I remember how you used to talk to me as you undressed me. Telling me how you’d thought about me during the day. Telling me that I was your only true love. Whispering words in my ear that would make others blanch, but made me smile and shiver.
I remember the sounds that accompanied our ritual. The soft ‘phut’ of buttons being pressed through holes. The slow rasp of a zip being undone. The sound of your heavy shoes clattering across the floor as you kicked them to one side. The silky hiss of my stockings as you rolled them down each leg. The jingle of change in your pocket as your trousers dropped. The barely perceptible clicks of the fastenings as you undid my bra. My sigh as my breasts were liberated. Your grunt as your mouth found its way to one of them. My gasp.
I remember the whoosh of air escaping the mattress as our joint weight dropped onto it. The crumpling sound as you kicked the duvet aside, and the soft slump as it settled on the carpet. More words. You always had a way with words, choosing the ones that would turn me on as I lay beneath you. When you stopped speaking, I would sometimes hear the roar of my own circulation in my ears. The silent dull thud of my heart beating a tattoo for you.
I remember the rough sound of my finger running against your stubble. The click of your teeth on my fingernail as I pushed the same finger between your lips. The rustle of your hands through my hair and your breath against my ear.
I remember my sharp yelp when you bit my shoulder once and the slap that rang from your back as I tried to stop you. Your laughter and my giggle. And the springs of the bed groaning as we rolled together so I was on top. My own voice, so tentative in asking for what I needed. And your replies. Always so sweet. Always what I wanted to hear.
I remember the small sucking noises as your fingers slipped inside me. I would be wet from the moment you walked in the door. I was always ready for you. A small squeal of pleasure escaping past the teeth biting my lower lip. My sharp intake of breath as you added another finger. And then another.
The imperceptible sounds of two bodies sliding against each other.
I remember the dirty words that slipped so easily from both of us as you pushed your cock into me. Fuck! you’d say as you fucked me fiercely. The thump of your hips against mine, flesh chafing flesh. A groan. A cry. A sob. A grunt that sounded pained as you came hard inside me. My own shriek as your tongue extracted an orgasm from my swollen clit.
I remember the words you’d say to me afterwards as we lay together, clammy with sweat in the night. The best words. The ones you saved till last.
Now, there is only silence.