Man Without a Word

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I cannot talk but you are still sure what I might want.
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My throat is so sore, so rough. Talking is painful, breathing is tolerable but not as straight forward as it used to be. I certainly need something to take my mind off what is happening to me. At least I can still send text messages. Maybe you can help me take my mind off this degree of pain. I send you a text message informing you of my medical situation, wondering if perhaps you would like to help me.

You receive a text message telling you about my situation. You are sure you can help me at least a bit, at least take my mind off what be happening. It might just be as simple as watching a movie together, but it also might be your skills that you have honed over the years. Perhaps that is why I am texting you after all, with that in mind. Either way, you are happy to help me if you can.

Thankfully it does not take you long to get to my house. It may be a bit on the small side, but it is a nice house, nonetheless. I invite you in with nothing but motions. I cannot even whisper my greeting to you. You get the idea of what I mean anyway with my motions. You see I have an orange juice on the kitchen bench. I point to it and then point to you. You guess I mean that I am offering you a drink. "No thank you," you say after the brief moment it takes you to figure out what I mean.

You see that I have not been as prepared for your arrival as I might like me to be. You simply sit down across from me at the kitchen table and ask how I am, partly as a joke but partly to genuinely find out how I feel. I motion as best I can to suggest that my throat is sore. I touch the rest of my body though and give the thumbs up. You ask, "Are you sure the rest of your body is fine?". I simply nod. You continue "Perhaps you can just sit there then and let me take care of you."

You can see I am thinking about what you might mean by 'take care of you'. As I do so, you get out of your chair and kneel down on the other side of the table slowly, partly to see if I understand what you may be implying. Seems I have not yet. Your knees make contact with the floor as I disappear from your view. You softly crawl over to me, avoiding the other chairs. I must not quite get what you meant by that before as my legs are still together, my pants still done up.

You reach out and touch my shin, giving a slight push to one side, hoping that I understand what you mean by being down there. I must have got it by now, as my legs part before you. You are able to move closer to me as you run your hand along my thigh. You look up at me to see what my face may be saying. I look down at you, obviously shocked but certainly thankful for what you seem to be offering me. You reach your other hand to my other thigh and part my legs some more.

I feel your fingers glide between my legs, running gently up my thighs. I want so badly to say thank you, but I have no doubt it would be hard to talk even if my throat was not in pain. The tip of your fingers press gently against my thigh through my jeans. You slowly rub a hand across the tip of my cock. I immediately take a deep breath in. The temptation of the moment is killing me. Your fingers work a magic across my shaft despite the small obstacle.

You slide a hand above my belt and begin to undo my jeans. I cannot help but let you steer the direction of the moment. I let you pull my jeans down my legs. I step over them as they hit the ground beneath me. You touch my cock with your hand again, this time feeling it so much easier with the only obstacle being my boxers. You can feel me begin to harden for you. I am certainly excited by the moment. You place your hands across the top of my boxers and gently pull them down.

My cock simply gets harder. You have seen it before and thus are not surprised by the size I am presenting to you. There are no obstacles before you anymore. You simply breath close to me, letting your breath tease me closely. You look up again to see what my reaction is like. It is easy to tell I am thinking of little else, bringing a cheeky smile across your face. You take your eyes away from mine and focus on my dick before you.

You lean your head a little closer and let the head of my cock slide gently between your lips. You only softly, gently begin to suck on the head, the little slit resting against your tongue. You know what will control me, snap me forward into ecstasy. You let a hand slide down to the base of my shaft to hold me closer to you, letting you have full control of where my cock goes. You can feel me begin to twitch with no small part of pleasure and anticipation.

With my cock in your mouth both of us are silent. You can see my hips twitching as I try to get myself in as good a position as I can sitting down. Your tongue presses harder against me, making sure you are where you want to be. You feel my fingers grasp into your hair. I am gentle but you are not sure I can be gentle for long. You intend for me to lose control of my grace and gentlemanly behaviour.

You softly work your fingers up the shaft of my cock as it quivers against you. It seems I am getting harder and harder; under the spell of the magic you are working me with. I force myself to keep my voice silent; I know it will hurt far too much otherwise. I simply close my eyes, letting just the thought of your face holding my dick inside it work its power over me. I feel each little movement your tongue gives me, joyful bliss building across my body.

You start to slowly build the speed of your sucking. You can feel my dick twitch within your mouth. My fingers grip you tighter, though I am trying not to take too much control. Your lips begin to slide further down my shaft. You can hear my breathing quicken as I lose air from my lungs from the power you have over me. Your mouth keeps sucking, stronger and stronger as your tongue presses firmly against my skin. You are sure I will not last long.

The grip of my fingers in your hair tightens further. You can feel the slight pull in your hair. You resist that feeling simply to try to suck me dry. My dick begins to rupture inside your mouth. You suddenly feel the warmth of my cum pound against the back of your throat. My fingers grip your hair as I gasp as loudly as simply breathing out allows. My grip remains as you rub your tongue around the head of my cock, making sure you lick every drop of me up.

It takes me some time to let my grip against you relax, your hair returning fully under your control. You hear a quiet and struggled "Thank you" underneath my breath. You look up at me, gleefully happy that you have helped my pain go away for at least a moment.

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AnonymousAnonymous3 months ago

a lot of tell and not much showing. maybe too much adverb as well? first-person present isn't popular, but that's a preference of a reader. didn't strike a chord as erotic. maybe a little mechanical? not bad but room for improvement. keep writing.

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