tagRomanceNever A Word

Never A Word


Lance strolled idly down the street, lost in his own thought as the merrymakers at the carnival flowed around him like different currents in a sea of humanity. Bright balloons strained at their tethers, children laughed, and parents scrambled to keep up with their hyperkinetic offspring. Lance, however, wasn't as happy as they were. His girlfriend had broken their date, leaving a short, brutal note for him. So it was clear now. It was over between them. He felt almost numb, trying not to feel the pain of having lost her. His eyes drifted across the faces around him. Happy faces, he noted with an inner wince.

Up ahead, he saw something that caught his eye, and made him curious. A girl dressed and painted as a mime was working the corner up ahead, a red beret upside down on the ground near the fire hydrant. There was a scattering of change in it, and a few crumpled bills as well. The girl definitely caught Lance's eye because she looked nothing like Rachel, his now ex-girlfriend. This girl had sunshine blonde hair, cut in a cute pageboy bob, whereas Rachel's hair had been raven-black, and almost long enough for her to sit on. Rachel's slight build was easily outshone by this girl's generous curves. Her hips swayed nicely as she walked and gestured, and her full breasts strained against the red suspenders that she wore. In spite of his own situation, Lance felt himself getting warm because of this sexy, mysterious, silent girl.

He approached and stopped near her, watching as she trailed after an invisible thread from someone's clothing. She wound her way through the crowd in a very convincing manner, following the thread to an older gentleman's sleeve. Pulling it tight, she mimed stretching the thread, and then playing the violin on it, to belly-deep laughter, before twisting the stray string around her finger and snapping it off. Dusting off her hands, she "sat" on an invisible chair, and picked up an imaginary sandwich from a table. Her first bite was taken with obvious relish, and she broke the sandwich in two, standing up and offering the other half to a few people out of the crowd. None of them played along and reached for it, but they did toss more change at her beret.

She turned towards Lance, holding her hand out, and her eyes shone with joy as he reached out, smiling, to take the sandwich. He pretended to bite into it, and she clapped with joy, then handed him an imaginary drink to wash it down. Playing along, he drank, and finished off his half of the sandwich. The crowd laughed harder, and more coins jangled their way into the red beret. Soon, the red and pink hues of sunset started to color the sky, and the mime girl walked over to the beret, picking it up as if it weighed a ton, and dragging it a few feet along the sidewalk. Looking up, she gestured to Lance to come to her, and he crouched down to help her with the heavy hat. As the two of them feigned a struggle off the corner, and to a nearby coffeeshop, the crowd applauded loudly, then began to disperse, seeking other amusements before the carnival closed for the night.

Lance and the mime girl sat at a small table in the coffeeshop, and Lance found his hopes of hearing her speak dashed when all she did was point to what she wanted on the menu. "So she takes her job pretty seriously," he thought. "Guess that means she enjoys it a lot." He sipped absently at his cappuccino as he watched her bright red-painted lips parting so that she could take another drink of her cafe mocha. She saw his intent look, and raised her eyebrows twice, then winked at him. He chuckled and winked back, and saw her raise a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Listen, you don't have to act any more. You're done for the day, right?" he asked, to which she only shook her head silently. "You mean you stay like this all the time, not talking at all?" he asked, and she only shrugged her shoulders a bit, as if it were nothing new, or of any real consequence. Lance found himself caught between frustration and a growing desire for her, for more knowledge of her than he had.

"Well, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked her, and she shook her head no, dropping another wink his way, along with a subtle lick of her lips. Swallowing, he smiled warmly at her, letting his hand fall on her thigh, hidden by the tablecloth, and ran his own tongue slowly across his lips. She parted her thighs slightly, looking casually around to see that they weren't being watched closely. He rubbed her thigh slowly, the worn denim of her jeans soft under his hand, and her flesh under it very warm.

Smiling, desire shining in her eyes, she let her hand slip down under the table as well, fingers trailing teasingly up his thigh and circling around his belt buckle. He felt himself heating up to her touch quickly, the warmth flaring up intensely. When her palm rubbed gently against his cock, it was bulging against his jeans, hard and hot for her. Smiling wickedly, the mime girl looked around quickly at the near-deserted coffeeshop and stood, walking around the table. She looked to him, and beckoned for him to follow her. Lance couldn't get to his feet fast enough to follow her across a bed of hot coals, if she'd wanted him to. Instead, her destination was somewhere closer nearby...the ladies' restroom.

She led him into the stall, closing the door and turning to face him. Wordlessly, she slipped her suspenders off, then her snug white sweater. Her full, heavy breasts looked ready to snap the lacy pink bra that tried valiantly to contain them. Lance licked his lips, and opened his mouth to speak, but she put one finger on his lips, shaking her head.

"Sssssssshhhh." she had finally made a sound, if not a whole sentence for him, and he understood the merit of silence in their risky situation. It was by sheer luck that they had both gotten in without being caught, and he wasn't about to fuck it up now. He reached for her bra, undoing the clasp and freeing what had to be a pair of good sized thirty-eights, probably a C or D cup. Leaning down, he lowered his face to her chest, to feel her arms cradling his head as he sucked on one nipple, bringing it to rock hardness, then switching to the other. She exhaled deeply, and rubbed her thigh against his crotch, making him squirm against her. Looking up at her, he knew that they both needed the same thing.

She tugged his belt loose, then pulled his pants down quickly. The sight of his swollen cock, already leaking his pre-cum, made her smile, and she knelt before him, engulfing him in her soft, hot mouth. She sucked slowly, up and down his throbbing pole, as he twisted his fingers in her hair gently at first, but then tighter. Then, she pulled off of him, not wanting it to end like that. She sat him down on the toilet, then stripped off her own pants, quickly followed by her lacy pink panties.

She straddled his lap, aiming his now-slick love muscle at her damp pussy. Plunging downwards suddenly, she had to bite her lip and cover his mouth with one hand to stifle his moan of surprise and delight. She began riding him, rocking quick and hard, taking him as deep into her as was possible. His hands reached up for her breasts, and his fingers claimed her sensitive, erect nipples, pulling on them and twisting gently, making her fuck him even harder. She was gnawing on her own lips now, fighting to hold in the cries that beat against the back of her throat. As she felt her whole body dissolve away in a wash of orgasmic bliss, she felt Lance buck under her, his hips rising to meet her motions. His hot cum gushed into her, filling her with a molten, smoldering heat. They slowed together, breathing deeply, regaining control over their breath so they wouldn't moan or sigh loud enough to be heard.

She got up then, and wiped clean with some toilet paper. He reached over and pulled off a long strip to wipe himself off with, and soon, they were dressed again. Minutes later, they were headed out the door, walking hand in hand as far as the bus stop. The mime girl got on the bus and waved goodbye, smiling sweetly at Lance. He waved back, feeling such an incredible rush of different feelings for this mystery of a woman he'd just shared such passion with, and realized that she had said so much. But just the same, she had never said a word.


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byJohnB73© 0 comments/ 15412 views/ 2 favorites
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