0 comments/ 4814 views/ 0 favorites Almost Goodbye By: Elizabug I had finally had enough; the pain this all has caused me was far too deep, and words could never contrive to express the depth of my agony. I knew I meant what I said the night before; I knew in my heart that saying goodbye was the right thing to do; I waited until I heard him stir, I had no desire to wake him. It felt like forever, and finally he rose and walked to the bathroom. Once more I waited for what felt like an eternity, and he finally stepped back into his room and crawled back into bed. I knew this was my moment-- this time I knew my choice was real and forever. It had to stop; the pain was too much. I mustered all my strength and courage and opened the divider. He seemed to be falling back asleep, and I just started speaking. "I'm leaving now, I wanted to say bye, and I want you to know I meant what I said last night, I can not come back anymore." He replied--a simple reply-- "OK." I babbled for a while, asking if I had anything of his to return and vice versa because I did not want to have to return to this place. I looked at him for a moment and stared at this man who I loved with a passion deeper than even I realize sometimes and asked "Would you like a hug before I go?" Stupid of me, I love self-loathing and being masochistic; I had to if I wanted to feel this heart wrenching pain. "Yes" another simple reply, I walked over to the bed and he opened his arms and I hugged him. After just milliseconds, I let go it hurt so much. I said goodbye again and asked if he wanted the divider closed, "Yes" Lovely, another simple reply. I shut the divider and started grabbing my stuff; it was time to leave. I thought quietly for a minute running through so many emotions: pain, gratification-- there was more paroxysms of grief than I anticipated. It was so hard to process my choice; I knew, for once in my life, I meant it. I was going to act on this, and nothing would change my mind. He had taught me that, if you make a choice, you stick with it and see it through. A change in that choice needs to be rare, you can change your mid, but you have to have good reason, otherwise you lose credibility. Once I finished racing through my emotions, I made a snap decision; I needed one last hug. I wanted to be close one more time. I needed to feel his arms around me, smell his skin; I wanted to make sure I had a clear memory, one that was not filled with pain. The previous embrace was weak and I was too tear filled to remember it. I dropped my stuff and ripped open the divider, and it happened again-- my heart filled with sheer agony and I babbled incoherently "Bees are making a nest in your shed, I killed one already it was lethargic from the cold but the brothers came too. I do not think you realize how serious I am (I do not think I knew how serious I was until that moment). I'm not coming back, I can not hurt anymore and I need one more hug..." I had already walked into the room further and his arms opened. I wrapped my right arm under his neck and held really tightly, my emotions ran wild and it took every ounce of restraint not to spasm under the emotional pressure. I breathed deeply so I could catch the smell of him, his soap mixed with the pleasant musky pheromone scent he had, the one that drove me up the wall with a passionate lust every time I snuggled him. I was suddenly snapped out of my private thoughts when I realized how tightly he was hugging back. To my surprise, he was rubbing my back, my side, and me. I loved his touch and could not understand what he was doing. It felt so nice that I never wanted it to end; but I knew the end had to be near. I figured I would hold on until he let go and then we would be over. His rubbing continued and I accepted, his rub was suddenly stronger, firm, but so pleasant and I began to realize why I did not want to end, this was our beginning foreplay, at least it had been. I knew he would never touch me intimately again, so I was petrified to attempt anything. His left arm ran down my right side, and goose bumps formed all over my body. Up his hand ran again, and down to the edge of my pants. He repeated the same swift movement on both sides now, while moving up and under my shirt and I was determining his attentiveness had to be his form of comfort; his goodbye. He rubbed so long, I could feel my desire rising and I needed to let go or I knew I would try and touch him. I was terrified of rejection. I was letting go emotionally; why couldn't I do so physically? I used my fingers to trace imaginary lines on his skin. I wanted to whisper something, anything, I wanted to know if he was trying to turn me on, if he wanted me to respond. I wanted him inside me, more right then than I ever wanted anyone in my entire life. His hand moved back up my side on the left, and I swore he was after my breast. I was so confused, but I couldn't move, I felt paralyzed. His hands then moved to my hair, I was choking him with my hair, I muttered this and he mumbled something unintelligible. I felt his lips brush my hair, and then they touched my neck, I do not think he has ever realized how much touching my body that way, or specifically my neck that way, does for me. I was trying not to let my breathing change, and my heart was pounding, if this continued he wouldn't have to touch me sexually, I would finish just with these movements. I could feel it, my breasts literally ached with want and my vagina was twitching, I was turning red, I could feel the color rush into my face as my heart pounded faster. I decided I needed to get up fast, I was confused and scared, and I moved just slightly giving access to my left breast, as I did this, one of his hand went up my shirt in the back and the other went up my shirt in the front to my breast. Now I had to respond, if I did not I would explode, I looked up just a little, I did not want him to see the color variation in my skin. The thoughts in my mind were so dirty and sexual I could not help but blush. Almost without any warning internally, I kissed him, once and then he kissed again. That was it, I was his and he knew it. His left hand slid up and with one swift motion, which would impress any woman, he found my bra hook, and, with little to no effort, it came unhooked. I was unhooked internally and I needed to be naked fast, but I was shaking and I hoped he wouldn't notice. His right and left hands grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up and off, taking the remains of my bra with it. I knew if I didn't distract myself with touching him, I would orgasm in minutes, I muttered that he needed to scoot over and he did so without replying and if he did I could not hear him. I needed to implement the images in my mind, so desperately that I couldn't put it into words. I kissed his chest, and made my way down to his nipple, he liked this and I always hoped I did it well. I felt his hand touch my cheek and he gently removed my glasses. I kissed down his chest, and down his stomach, I wanted to bite him gently, but I settled on kissing him softly. I continued downward and gently placed my left hand on his testicles, I rubbed them gently as I slid my other hand around his penis and placed it in my mouth. As soon as I pulled the foreskin down and moved my mouth around I heard him breathe deeply and sigh outward, his hand was rubbing my breasts and he was responding verbally, he let out a quiet moan. I loved performing fellatio on him, never as much with any man, than I did for him. He always seemed more appreciative and respectful. I couldn't take it anymore-- I wanted him so badly. I moved back up toward his face and snuggled into his chest; I was breathing him in. He moved so quickly now, and I felt a little more at ease seeing that his desire had rose some, perhaps he wanted it as much as I did the whole time, or maybe not. He moved over my body touching my breasts and then placed my right one in his mouth, I felt a clamp down as he bit slightly, moving quickly to the other, and keeping one hand on the one that wasn't in his mouth. My breathing was faster while I moaned quietly, and I knew if he simply did that I would soon finish with an extreme intensity. Again, with more speed and a slight aggression that was admirable, he ripped my pants down and I kicked them off. Suddenly he was all the way over me and his right hand moved my left leg outward, he positioned himself perfectly, and he slid right in. I tried to remain quiet, but the moan of relief slipped out of my mouth. He fit so perfectly inside me, he always had, as though my vagina was made just for him. It filled me, which made our encounters so much more fulfilling for me. I could feel him deeply and all the way around. I wanted to watch his face, but I was blushing again at the thought of this perfect fit, I wondered if it felt that way to him too; if when I was wrapped around him if it felt that good for him. Before this encounter he always went slow, and his speed rose as the need required. This time was different, he was going so hard, and so fast it wasn't taking long for me, My back rose slightly and I knew my moment was coming, I heard myself calling out his name and I became louder, I was reaching back and trying to find something to hold. I rubbed my leg on his thigh, then further upward, my back rose again and I felt my vagina lock down slightly. I came so fiercely that my legs were shaking, just as I was finishing, I felt him pulse within me, followed by an explosion of wetness, setting off an aftershock full body orgasm. He relaxed slightly and leaned down for a minute. Then suddenly he bounced up, and backward to find something to clean up with. I was glad I didn't have to move; I do not think I could have. At least not yet, and maybe not for a few minutes either.