She Said Nothing

She wanted to kill herself. She had, right now, wanted to kill herself more than she had wanted anything else in the world. She said nothing.

Above her, the boy gyrated, blindly pumping himself into her, his ministrations so intense that she was almost breathless from the pain. He fucked her, indiscriminately, desperately, mumbling to himself as he did so. She said nothing.

When he was done, they laid together, him holding her sweetly, professing his undying love to her in whispers. He told her he loved her, told her that he would be happy for the rest of his life if he could only spend it with her. his fingers stroked through her hair as he told her this, the other hand gently cupping her face. He told her he loved her. She said nothing.

His mouth got nearer and nearer to her ear as his professions grew more adamant, then his mouth moved down to her mouth. He kissed her, hard, his tongue roughly invading her mouth, roughly pressing on her tongue. The hand that had so gently cupped her face was now gripping her hip, hard, as the other hand drifted from her hair to her neck to her breasts, where he seemed to be content to stay at for a while. She said nothing.

Slowly, his hand moved from her breast to her cunt, fingers pawing at the delicate flesh, jabbing around, trying to stimulate her, as his mouth moved to replace his hand at her breast. She arched her back to encourage him, hating herself for it, enjoying it as a sense of delicate torture that would have made her orgasm with intensity this boy never would. He raised his head, a wicked gleam playing on his sly grin. He took one of hands and moved it to her cunt. Taking the hint, she started massaging himself. He had always liked watching her masturbate. She got on her knees then, gyrating, tossing her hair about, making appropriate moaning and panting noises. He sat back, hands idly playing with his cock, eyes hungrily devouring her soft curves, her supple breasts, her flawlessly porcelain skin. Various phrases like, “Oh yeah, baby”, “God I want to fuck you right now”, “Does that feel better than my long, hard cock fucking your tight, wet pussy?” occasionally erupted from his mouth. She made appropriate grunts and gasps. She said nothing.

Writhing in front of him, her sex on display, she felt like a slut, a whore. She wanted to cry from how depressed she felt, how ugly it all was. She tossed her hair around, her waist length, jet black hair, and moaned harder as her finger flew over her clit. One hand played with her nipples, her red, red mouth an ‘O’ with feigned lust. She felt empty. She was surprised that he did not notice that she was faking it. She was faking everything. He moved towards her, naked lust shining in his eyes. She said nothing.

He straddles her chest, pushing his cock in her face. He then slid down her body, got on his knees and put his mouth on her pussy. He sucked on her, pushing his tongue deep within her cunt, massaging her with his tongue, stimulating her with his tongue ring. She made various and noncommittal noises. Her soul was empty as he filled her cunt with his tongue and mouth. She dug her nails deep into the wooden bed frame, relishing in the pain as she endured his ministrations. Unable to fake any longer, she pretended to orgasm, making loud, ugly noises, short screams, reaffirming his manhood, faking crests of pleasure and waves of contentment. He grinned, giving her cunt one last oral assault, on last lick. She said nothing.

He then moved up her body, trails of saliva streaking up to her, pools of it painting her breasts. He straddled her chest, once more pushing his cock in her face. She took it in her mouth, and sucked on it. She sucked and licked and gently bit, swirling her tongue and kissing and running her teeth lightly over his cock. She writhed above her with pleasure, gasping and moaning uncontrollably as she sucked on his balls, as she sucked hard on his cock, as she licked and kissed and caressed with her tongue. His head was thrown back, his face red, his hands desperately pawing at her breasts, occasionally reaching back to give her pussy a quick stroking. Tears fell from her eyes, staining the pillow, unnoticed to the boy pounding his cock into her red, red mouth. He gave out guttural grunts and low moans as he climaxed, as he emptied his hot, salty seed into her mouth. She said nothing.

After that, he entered her again, fucking her hard, slamming her down onto his cock, sucking on her nipples as he could. She cried out with the pain, masked as pleasure. He made ape-like noises and thought himself to be among the world’s best lovers as she faked another orgasm, timing it so she would come along with him. He kissed her sloppily, mumbling “I Love You” as he fell asleep, dragging her down with him, hands protectively cradling her breasts. She said nothing.

After she knew he was deeply asleep, she untangled herself from his grasp. Padding over to the mirror, she looked at herself, naked and covered with red teeth marks from their fucking. Kissing herself in the mirror, she started to run her hands over her body, admiring how truly beautiful it was, admiring her soft curves, her flawless skin, the perkiness of her nipples, the soft fuzz at her cunt. Her hands teased her nipples, ran down her thighs, finger inserting into her pussy. She stroked herself, she massaged her pussy hard. She moaned loudly, naked lust and pleasure coursing through her body. Desperately she massaged her clit, relishing the pleasure that spiked within her, so close to perfection, building up on itself, fingers pinching her nipples, head thrown back, hair brushing against her firm ass. She felt it coming, her orgasm. It was mounting, and in her mind, she called herself every insult she could. In her mind, she was a dirty little whore, a cunt, a pussy to be fucked, a sperm dumpster, a human urinal, fucking bitch. Her fingers were now flying over her clit, her small gasps and pants filling the room. Unknown by her, the boy had woken up, hand stroking his cock as he watched her please herself. She moaned, hard and loud, as her hand moved to get a small pistol that laid on a dresser next to the mirror. They boy was too entranced by her gently bouncing breasts to notice. His hand pumped harder, eyes half-lidded as he grew hornier and hornier. She felt her orgasm building, peaking, cresting, and she started moaning and screaming in agonized ecstasy. Tears trickled down her face as she brought the gun to her temple. The cool metal brought her over the edge, and her orgasm came down on her, swift and hard. She rode the waves of pleasure, hand flying furiously over her cunt, body taught with ecstasy, tears rolling down her face as she screamed. This was, quite frankly, the biggest and hardest orgasm that she had ever had in her life. The boy behind her came from hearing her scream. As she crested her orgasm, she felt so beautiful, so peaceful, so good. She felt like she could fly. She laughed aloud in happiness, then pulled the trigger. Her naked body flopped to the floor, the top of her head blown away. The boy on the bed screamed in horror. She said nothing.

(List Under Darkness)