Goodbye

I’m not sure what I expected ‘goodbye sex’ to be like.

I had pictured a spectacular hours-long session where we did everything we had ever wanted to do to each other… well, actually that sounds more like ‘hello sex’ after not having seen each other for months. And a few hours probably wouldn’t be enough time for us to do all that we wanted to do to each other anyway.

‘Goodbye sex’, in reality, was 30 minutes of rushed, semi-clothed passion which was over as quickly as it had began.

But it was spectacular.

—

About a month ago, Christopher walked back to my room with me after a night of gallivanting. To inform me that he had decided to drop out of college, was going to move in with his girlfriend and focus on his writing.

I was quite unsurprised. He had taken a long personal leave from college before, and I knew his academics were dragging along, and he didn’t seem as though he was getting what he wanted from his experience here. In all honesty, I think this is the best thing he could do for himself. He will probably be way happier. And he will be doing what he really wants to do.

What followed his admission was a lot of talking, and a few tears (from me…) and hugging, and affection, that inevitably derailed into kissing and… other things.

I know I haven’t shared this – me and Christopher had continued sleeping with each other for the past term. A couple of weeks after I came back from my exchange program, me and Christopher had been out drinking together one night, and he walked back to my dorm building with me. When we reached my door, we ended up kissing in the hallway and soon he had me against the wall, feeling me up… I opened the door to my room, and after a few minutes of indecision, he came in with me.

I couldn’t talk about it before now, though I wanted to, because me and Christopher really didn’t want our friend F to know. (She reads my blog occasionally.)

—

The day before he was due to leave, he emailed both me and F asking if we wanted to meet him for dinner. F was at work then, and couldn’t come, but I was able to make it.

We hung out for about three hours or so, just walking and talking. Eventually we ended up at the highest point of campus, silently watching the sun go down.

I haven’t experienced many spiritual moments in my life, but that was one of them. Sitting in the notquitecold, with someone I cared a great deal for, and nobody else around, as the sky blazed pink and purple, thinking cliche thoughts about love and time and endings and beginnings and how neither of them really exist… (And, also, though I’m ashamed to admit it, thinking of how how he had come to this spot with his girlfriend before, I knew that, I had seen the pictures…)

After it was dark, we started making our way back to the center of campus. The ground was iced over, and I was wearing Converses, so I had to keep grabbing hold of his arm or hand to keep from slipping. We reached a dirt road and were halfway down it when he stopped walking.

“I don’t want to go yet.”

So we stood for a while. He took my hands and we pressed them together, smoothing our palms over each other and twining and untwining our fingers. Eventually he told me,

“I really liked the time we spent together. And I’m sorry… if I hurt you… and I’m afraid of hurting you even more…”

We were standing close together and for once I took the initiative and caught his lips with mine.

He abruptly started walking again, while holding on to me with one hand.

“Where are you going??”

“Um… in the direction of your dorm, it looks like. Muscle memory…”

We kept going in that direction. He was supposed to show up at his best friend’s apartment in half an hour, so called ahead saying he was going to be a bit late because he was “hanging out with friends” (riiiight…). I was touched by the fact that he had started to tear up a little and had to make an effort to keep his voice cheery on the phone…

When we reached my suite, I cracked my door open and looked at him.

“Are you sure you want to…”

Before I could finish, he rushed towards me and pushed us both into my dark room, kissing me urgently. The door swung closed and I flipped on the bright, overhead light. Soon I was on my bed and both of us were working to get my clothes off. Naked, while he was still fully clothed, I lay back as he groped and kissed my breasts, moved down my body and buried his face in my pussy.

Christopher is fucking amazing at giving head. Some of it is technique, but mostly it’s just that he enjoys it so much. His warm mouth just engulfs me and all I want is to let him go at it for hours and hours. When we’d had ‘hello sex’ a few months before, it felt like that’s what happened, and I came so much and so hard and was so deliciously exhausted even before he had put his cock in me…

He comes back up to kiss me and I start pushing at the top of his jeans impatiently with my foot. This is how it always is – he gets so wrapped up in touching me that he can’t pause even for the few minutes it takes to let me take off his pants so I can play with him too. (Part of me likes that…)

He gets off me and stands next to the bed and drops his pants. I don’t waste any time. I lick the tip of his cock before sliding it into my mouth, relishing the feeling of it filling my mouth and gently hitting the back of my throat as I work it in and out.

Soon he pulls me up.

“You’re too good at that,” he says. “I’m going to come.”

Back on the bed again. I glance at the clock. It’s been about 20 minutes.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, considerate as always.

“Um,” I say. “I really want to fuck you, I just don’t know if we have time…”

“No, we can do that.”

As I’m about to get a condom from my desk drawer, we both get waylaid again – he starts licking at my pussy and slowly pumping his small, cute, thick fingers into me. I’m dripping wet. I can feel it. I had been speaking but I drift off mid-sentence and my head rolls back and my eyes shut. We manage to coax ourselves away from each other long enough for me to grab a condom.

He lay on my bed, half propped up against the wall, shirt still on and staring at me intently with half-lidded eyes. I roll the condom on and climb on top of him. He feels so good sliding into me – he always feels good – and I move up and down his shaft for a while.

I’ve never been good at being on top. Sort of annoying really. I’m not in very good shape, and I always need to brace myself against something with my hands. So I do so.

As I look down at him he slides his middle finger into his mouth, which makes my breath catch. Christopher – and my other lovers – just look so hot when they do that. I also realize what he’s going to do with said finger. As I keep up a leisurely pace, he slowly works it into my ass and when it’s fully in I flop forward onto his chest and sigh.

I really do love anal play.

He slides his finger in and out at a counterpoint rhythm to his cock. I start to moan. And then I notice him pulling the oddest of faces.

“Are you okay?”

“Just… trying… not to come…”

I make a ‘tsk’ noise.

“Stop that. Just… let go…”

The last few words are said quietly, into his ear, almost imperceptible, but he listens to me and grabs my hips with both hands and pistons into me, hard, at a pace that I could never hope to maintain.

I watch his face as he spills into me, then nuzzle the space in between his neck and shoulder.

No time for cuddling, though. I wrap myself in a towel to run to the bathroom and grab him some tissue, and after cleaning himself up he starts hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

I look at the clock.

“Wow,” I say. “Looks like you’re only going to be a few minutes late. Not that bad at all.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I came so fast and I…”

I want to go into detail about how I find making him come and watching him come just every bit as hot as he finds doing the same with me, but now isn’t the time.

After he gets dressed, he unexpectedly asks,

“Do you have any alcohol?”

“What??”

“For the smell.”

“Oh. No… oh wait! Will mouthwash work?”

He takes the mouthwash from me, grabs my trashcan, gargles and then spits the mouthwash over his hands into the bin.

I’m a bit embarrassed at the thought of his hands touching things in his friend’s apartment with traces of my wetness still on them.

“Um… you might want to just wash your hands…”

He finishes getting ready to leave and cups my face for one last, hurried kiss.

—

I know that I’ll always be Christopher’s dirty little secret. (Or, well… one of them, at least.) I have a strong feeling that I’m not going to really be able to be a part of his new life because of my status as, well… the person he cheated on his girlfriend with for a long period of time.

In a sense, his girlfriend won. Yeah, like it was even a competition in the first place. She had always won – even before this ever started. That’s not been on my mind really, but it has popped up a couple of times.

Am I ever going to visit him? Fuck no. That would be as awkward as hell – not to mention invasive. Is he going to visit me, read: the college? He says he will. Whether or not our sexual relationship will continue while he’s here is still up in the air, though he’s made comments that imply that he’d like it to continue.

I hope to still keep in touch – to still be close.

His leaving is, in a way, a good thing. With him gone, I have no choice but to stand on my own two feet. To be strong for myself, purely because I know there’s no one else around who will be.

Now, the door has closed – for good, this time. But who knows what the future holds?

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