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Silent Wank

"Sometimes there's only one thing you can do..."

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1.9k words 1.9k words
Oscar felt a chill on his face when he awoke as a light midnight breeze drifted in through the slightly open window at his bedside. He savoured the feeling, letting the air cool him and calm him down. Heavily and silently he breathed, his heart decelerating only in the slightest increments.

Staring up at the black ceiling, he recounted the glorious dream from which he had awoke, grinning. He could still picture perfectly the jaw-dropping figure of his imagined lover, the way her breasts felt pressed against his chest still vivid in his mind. He could still see her full moist lips as they kissed their way over his naked torso, following the neat trail of hair from his navel to his...

It was then that Oscar realised he was still hard as a rock, his stiff cock propping up his duvet like a tent. It throbbed and twitched as more images of his mystery seductress flooded his mind, begging him for attention. He could all but feel her warm mouth engulf his erection, tease the tip with an expert tongue and then suck him hard, sending a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

A loud snort from across the room caused his body to jolt. His eyes had been shut and he must have been dozing back into that most blissful of slumbers when his roommate Harry's blocked nose had rudely disturbed him. He looked across but there was no movement from Harry's side of the room, a sliver of moonlight highlighting his agape mouth and the strand of drool hanging from its corner.

Not even that image was enough to deflate Oscar's arousal and his cock strained yet more against his boxer shorts. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined to go back to sleep with his mind free of any curvy, sexy, horny, out-of-his-league girls it could conjure up. But the erection remained, uncomfortable and beckoning, its trusty companion, Oscar's right hand, itching to relieve its suffering.

Her hand beat him to it, taking a tight grip and easing back his foreskin, gently. Sensually. The look in her deep, azure eyes was unlike any he had seen in a corporeal woman—sheer lust and desire to please. A drop formed at the slit of his now exposed glans and, as she licked it hungrily, Oscar felt a wet patch form on his boxers in reality. Why was his own consciousness torturing him so when there was nothing he could do about it? The question vanished as he pictured her breasts, somehow larger than they were before, drooping down between his legs, grazing his thighs as they swayed with her movement.

Her manicured nails gleamed in the half-light as the fingers curled around his shaft began to slowly rise and fall, drawing out another droplet with every stroke. The tempo increased and Oscar's hand, of its own volition, glode beneath the duvet over his naked torso, down to the elastic waistband of his underwear and pausing on the taut fabric, his aching cock mere centimeters away. He couldn't do this, not with Harry in the room, but he could not shake the images that permeated his mind. One persuasive finger firmly stroked down the underside of his erection through the cotton and his toes curled, his body desperate for a release.

A rounded ass rose up like a mountain behind her and she began to crawl on all fours towards his lips, letting their young bodies touch each other; feel each other. His dick left a wet trail along her torso as she grazed against him, tantalizing him, her eyes never leaving his. Oscar felt her breath on his face, their bodies breathing and heaving in rhythm, perfectly synchronized. They kissed. It was more real to Oscar, more erotic, than any kiss he had experienced in real life.

She had positioned herself perfectly atop him, the aroma of arousal heightened by the heat. Lowering her hips, she ground against his cock, adding her own juices to the cocktail that coated it. As she slid back and forth, her lips seemed to envelop his length, grasping out for it desperately; needing it. The dream girl sat up, straddling him, and placed one hand on his chest, the other reaching down between them. His body trembled with anticipation, staring up in disbelief at the goddess about to ride him like a bronco. She pointed his cock towards her entrance, lifting her pelvis so that there was just barely contact, and flashed him a desirous grin before slam—

Oscar woke with a start, panting and sweating. He quickly threw the cover from him to let the cold air from the window cool his body. His hand instinctively went to his cock, grabbing it through his underwear and just holding it, as though to console.

"Damn," he cursed silently. What was about to be the best sex of his short life so far, whether in his head or not, had been ruined abruptly. He had little hope of ever recapturing the dream, the once vivid detail of his beauteous lover already fading from his mind in his alert wakefulness. He lay still for a few minutes, willing his erection away so that he might get some peaceful sleep.

Nothing. If anything, his cock throbbed and strained even more, persistent in its desire for relief. Frustrated, Oscar tossed and turned in his bed from one uncomfortable, or even painful, position to another. But what could he do with a sleeping Harry a few feet away?

He contemplated sneaking away to the bathroom down the hall, shared by eight guys in total.

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However, so obnoxiously protruding was his hard-on, and so great was the risk of waking Harry and being seen in such a state, that he didn’t think it a terribly wise idea.

It became unbearable, though, and Oscar, watching closely for the slightest movement from his roommate, gave in and eased his underwear down to just above his knees, unleashing the caged animal. It sprang out with force and slapped noisily against his abdomen, the echo deafening in the silence of the dorm room. Oscar hastily pulled up the duvet to cover himself, pretending to sleep while remaining vigilant to Harry. The sound of another grunt eased his tension and he pushed the covers off once more, peering down.

He was astonished by how large he appeared to be. His cock was engorged more than it had ever been, the veins defined prominently and a pulse evident, even in the dim light. His foreskin was almost entirely retracted, the bulbous head poking out as a purply-red pool ball being pushed through a tube sock. It would have been so easy at that moment for Harry to wake up, only to find his roommate naked with the mother of all boners. He would have to be quick, not that he imagined it would take much. Oscar pulled back the remainder of the skin with his left hand and held his cock slightly elevated at the base. With the palm of his right hand, he rubbed the dripping tip and began to spread the natural lubrication over his whole shaft. He was sensitive to the touch, pursing his lips to stop from gasping at the sheer pleasure of even this simple contact. His intact frenulum was stretched tight and, though it felt good to do so, he dared not touch it too much.

His forefinger and thumb did not quite touch as they usually did when he wrapped his hand round his cock, affirming to him that he was, indeed, larger than usual. He continued to hold himself with one hand while the other began to stroke his entire length, slowly and silently. Even at a walking pace, he could tell his orgasm was near at hand, hours of built-up tension ready to break at a moment’s notice. For the first time in his life, he was pleased to hear the steady snoring coming from across the room.

More and more of his pre-ejaculate leaked from him to enable his hand to glide smoothly up and down his dick, feeling every groove as his cock swelled and subsided like a living, breathing organism. He let himself speed up, careful not to make any noise, and let his head fall back on the pillow as he finally began to enjoy his long-overdue, silent wank.

As he closed his eyes, the image of her gradually came back to him, blurs becoming clearer until he could see her, sitting on top of him once more. It was no longer his hand that was drawing him closer and closer but her warm, moist pussy, gently squeezing his shaft as she rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She smiled down at him with fiery lust in her eyes, her nails digging into his chest as she rode him faster. Her breasts bounced with her movement, the big, erect nipples mesmerizing Oscar.

She started going harder and Oscar began to thrust upwards into her, seeking their mutual climax and getting warmer with every muted collision of his thighs with her ass. She kept silent, as though she knew not to wake Harry, but he could see the delight deep in her eyes, boring into him. He had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from making a noise, though as the orgasm grew, he was sure he would not retain such considerate composure. The noiseless image was surreal, like a silent black and white movie in outstanding high definition.

Her eyes shut and her head went back; she sank onto him completely, her pelvic muscles squeezing him as her body shook through the imaginary orgasm. It was enough for Oscar. She vanished as he opened his eyes to find his hand beating his hard cock furiously yet still, miraculously, silently. It hit and his entire body tensed, his toes curling for the second time that night. The orgasm coursed through him and found it’s narrow escape through his urethra, lashings of thick, white semen spewing forth across his torso and blasting the underside of his chin forcefully. It came and it came, his body remaining rigid throughout as he released a bigger load than he had even thought humanly possible. It surged out of his cock to land on his naked body.

At length, the flow ceased and the last dribble joined the pool in his navel. He hadn’t thought much beyond the release but it now seemed a pressing issue as he lay there, soaked in his own ejaculate. His cock ached a little but the relief had been got and his whole self felt like rubber, completely relaxed. Reaching down to the side of his bed, he found, to his delight, a discarded towel with which to clean up the mess he had made before tossing it into his washing basket at the foot of his bed. He yanked up his boxers and pulled the duvet over him again, his abdomen feeling a little sticky, and lay still, listening. After a few seconds of waiting nervously, a loud snort was emitted from his sleeping roommate and Oscar breathed a heavy sigh of relief, full of self-satisfaction at having successfully pulled off the Silent Wank.

Rolling onto his side, he drifted off to sleep, hoping to meet her again.
Published 
Written by clum
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