Keeping Quiet

They were visiting his parents' house for Christmas. It was the first time Sarah was meeting his family. Actually, it was the first time that John had brought any woman to meet his parents since his broken engagement eight years earlier. She was the first woman he had loved since his ex-fiancé. This was a big deal. His whole family was there.

The sleeping arrangements, though... John clenched his jaw again thinking about it. He was a grown-ass man, but his very conservative mom had decreed that they couldn't share a room because they weren't married. Sarah had taken the news in stride when he told her, saying, "Hey, I'm just going to be a guest. I'll follow whatever rules are laid out for me," but John had been irritated. It helped some when Sarah pointed out that he was the oldest at 32 and that his youngest sister was only 22. He would definitely not be OK with his little sister sharing a room with her boyfriend. So, in the interest of family harmony (and fairness and respecting his mom's wishes, as Sarah had also pointed out), he had agreed without further argument. It was only for a few days, after all.

But every touch made him remember that he wasn't going to be sleeping next to her. And they were always touching. Some of it was deliberate, but an awful lot was just habit. Sarah usually had her hand on his knee, or around his shoulder, or holding his hand. Always with small, unconscious caresses, tracing little patterns on his skin, stroking his leg through the denim, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. Today he had been hyper aware of her movements, and found himself getting more aroused by every little gesture. Each touch had made him want her more.

So, there he was, lying in bed, knowing that she was just a few doors down. He had an unbelievable hard-on, and it just wasn't going to go away without some kind of attention. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep with his painfully erect cock tenting through the sheets. John briefly thought about just taking care of things himself, but she was so close by.

****

Sarah yawned, stretched, and flexed her feet and legs, luxuriating in the crisp sheets, and smushed her face into the soft down pillow. John's family had been lovely, of course. She had known they would be.

The doorway cracked open, and a familiar 6'2" silhouette briefly blocked the light before slipping in and closing the door behind him.

"Are you awake?" It was a quiet whisper, very low, very sexy, and she was suddenly very, very awake.

"Yes."

He moved quietly through the dark room, not saying anything further. She just waited and watched in the moonlight as he took the chair from in front of the small sewing table and silently tipped it under the door knob. He came over to the bed, took the pillow and put it on the floor. The floor was carpeted, and there was a soft, fluffy throw rug on top of that, as well. John gently took her hand and stood her up. She was wearing loose pjs. He eased the bottoms off, and she stepped out of them. He was wearing a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, which he also stepped out of, pulling her hand to himself gently for her to feel the full extent of his arousal.

He sat down on the rug, lay back on the pillow, and gently pulled Sarah down. She straddled his hips, his erection behind her, and bent down to kiss him. Lips parted, tongues dancing, breathing deepening, she could feel his cock twitching against her back, and John could feel heat and wetness against his abs. He put his mouth next to her ear and practically breathed the words to her. "I was going crazy knowing you were two rooms away. The bed squeaks, and the floor probably does, too." They kissed again. John's hands wandered up Sarah's sides, brushing the undersides of her breasts. He moved so that his thumbs caressed her nipples, feeling them tighten under his touch, and she gasped. "We have to be seriously quiet," he breathed in her ear. "Light sleepers and a wakeful baby." He kissed her again. "Can you do that?"

She kissed him and pushed her tongue deep into his mouth, moved over to nip his earlobe, and whispered, "Yes."

Sarah shifted down John's body, putting his erection in front of her. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and stroked a few times, enjoying the feel of the soft skin covering his hard cock. She leaned her other hand on his shoulder and lifted up enough to rub the precum-covered tip of him against her clit for a few moments. John made a small hiss.

She shifted so that the head of his cock was at her entrance, and pressed down. She was wet, and he was slick, but they had not been fooling around very long yet tonight, and she was still very tight. She worked him in and out slowly, a little deeper each time. Each movement was creating more lubrication; each deeper thrust slipped inside just a little more easily. On the last downward stroke, when she finally took him all the way in, she bent forward and ground her clit against John's public bone. She was shaking as she leaned over to kiss his chest, and realized that he was sweating and had the throw rug in a death grip.

John opened his eyes as Sarah sat up and smiled down at him. He had begun to doubt his ability to go through with this plan the moment she had grabbed hold of him. Wild thoughts had crashed through his head all at once -- how bad would it really be if his parents and siblings knew that he was fucking his girlfriend in the next room? Would his sister really care if the baby woke up because the bed was rhythmically thumping into the wall? Did he even care anymore if the anyone heard what he sounded like having sex? What if he just grabbed Sarah, threw her on the bed, and...

She put her hands on his chest and started to move, riding him in a slow back and forth grinding motion. Her smile was gone, replaced by slightly parted lips. Her eyebrows were knit together in a look of concentration, and her eyes were no longer focused on his face. She leaned on him, holding his shirt in her grip, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she continued to move, grinding against him, ever so slowly increasing speed and pressure.

Her head dropped down, so her hair framed her face in the darkness. John let go of the rug and grabbed her hips, breathing heavily through his nose to try to avoid groaning and growling with each breath. They were both usually vocal during sex, John even more so than Sarah. He was having to focus to keep from making his normal pleasure sounds. Sex was usually filled with moans, groans, soft cursing, and telling Sarah how she was making him feel and other words of encouragement, like, "Don't stop," or, "Yes, just like that," or, "Oh, God, I'm going to come." And he shouted his climax. Having to keep silent was taking an unexpected amount of effort. It was as if not having the vocal outlet was causing physical pressure. He gripped her hips tighter, trying to maintain control while he felt himself building towards orgasm.

Sarah leaned down to her forearms and balled her hands into his shirt, pressing her forehead against his chest. She was grinding on him faster now. Leaning forward put more pressure on her clit, and meant that she could feel John's cock sliding in and out of her further than before with each forward and backward movement. She increased the rocking motion even more, pulling her hips further under each time she pressed forward, and pushing them further up on every backward stroke. The friction was sending her climbing towards release, and she tried not to pant and moan.

John put his feet on the floor and started thrusting against her with a silent urgency, and her movements became erratic, almost frantic. He tipped his head back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, feeling the pressure building.

Sarah's climax slammed into her. She felt like every muscle in her body spasmed at once. Thighs squeezed, core compressed like she was doing a sit up, her hands almost tore his shirt, and every internal muscle clamped around John. And then pulsed again. And again. And again. She took a gasping breath. And then she felt him.

John felt her orgasm squeeze every part of him, and it pushed him over the edge. He felt his balls tighten, and gave a final thrust. He held Sarah's hips to his body as he ejaculated, his face screwed up in what looked almost like agony, trying not to make a sound, digging his fingers into her. He felt like all of the pressure of keeping silent was forcing itself out through his cock, surging into her as he erupted.

Sarah collapsed onto his chest, and they lay there breathing for a few minutes trying to recover. She finally let John slip out of her, and rolled partially off of him. She felt boneless. Drunk. Snuggling up to John's ear she whispered, "I don't think I can stand up."

She felt him smile, and he quietly made an amused sound. In a very gallant move, he picked her up and put her back into bed, tucking her in with a kiss.

"You're amazing," he whispered in her ear.

He picked up the pillow and tucked it under her head. He put his pants back on, picking hers up and putting them under the covers with her, so she could put them on later. He then quietly moved to the door, unhooked the chair, and returned it to its place by the table. Sarah watched this all through sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

He opened the door a crack, and she saw his silhouette framed in the doorway for a second before he closed the door behind him.

John turned down the hall, and almost walked directly into his younger brother, Joe. Joe looked at him, looked at the doorway, raised an eyebrow, and smiled. "Shut up," whispered John.

"I didn't say a word," Joe replied in a whisper, still smiling. He let John get two more steps down the hall before he whispered after him, "By the way, Johnny, your pants are inside out."

John flipped him the bird as he disappeared into his bedroom, but he was smiling as he lay down on his bed, and was asleep in moments.