Saying Goodbye 8

"Well, I'm glad we got that settled."

It was a conversation that I knew was coming. Had been for weeks. A conversation I had braced myself for and even still, it knocked the wind out of me.

It all started about a month ago. Up until then, we had been the best of friends. Well, hell, let's be honest. We were more than friends. It started as two lonely co-workers sharing a bottle of vodka. It ended as three times a week, sometimes during lunch hour, and always ending in multiple orgasms. That's the way it had gone for the better part of the past year. After work, before work. Sometimes all day Saturday. But somehow, we were never able to take it to the next level. It wasn't something I had ever talked to Charlotte about. It just never came up. We were friends that had a lot of sex. And that was enough.

Except, I guess, it wasn't enough for Charlotte. Like I said, it all started a month ago. That was when Brad had started to show up. Just background noise at first, but then, one morning, Charlotte's phone went unanswered. She was always horniest in the morning and an unanswered call meant...well, I don't know what it meant. It's never gone unanswered before.

Then a week later, our lunch date gets canceled. Three times a week suddenly dries up to a series of "I can'ts", "I'm busys," and "it's that time of the month." It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Before I tell you what happens next, I have to say, Charlotte was the best sex a guy could have. I'd like to say it was more than just the sex, and there was more, but the sex was indescribable. Charlotte was the kind of girl that would just about do anything.

I say just about only because I haven't had a chance to learn every depraved sex act known to man quite yet. As it stands, I'm only about halfway through the Internet. But all joking aside, this is something you have to understand before I can tell you the next part of my story. Don't just read it and nod. Think about it. Here's a girl that was a sweetheart by day, and the nastiest porn queen by night. Okay, she didn't always wait for nightfall, but you get my point.

"Hey Charlotte, let's 69."

"Who get's to be on top?"

"Hey Charlotte, I want to cum on your face."

"Okay, but make sure I get some in my mouth too."

"Hey Charlotte, have you ever thought about anal?"

"With your cock or my dildo?"

Am I exaggerating? Not even close. Charlotte knew more things to do with a cock than a chicken farmer. For almost a year, she had been milking the cum out of me with her hands, mouth, pussy, and ass three times a week.

You might understand why I'm a bit distraught. So you've probably guessed by now that we just had the, "we can only be friends" conversation. And you can probably guess my reaction, which was a mixture of sadness, panic, and somehow, from the bottom of my heart, happiness for her. I put on the brave smile and say,

"Of course we'll always be friends. We don't need sex for that."

She smiles. She knows that was going to be my reaction just as I know what she's going to say next.

"Of course not. We'll always be there for each other."

"Do you have any regrets?"

This part takes me by surprise and I tell her of course not. I wouldn't trade the past year for the world. But before I get the words out, she's already shaking her head.

"I don't mean that. Of course we don't regret the most unbelievable sex ever. I meant, is there anything we didn't do?" My mind spins, reeling out possibilities that are as far-flung as my thoughts; but I don't respond. It would be just too heartbreaking to think about. Instead, I say, "I love you Charlotte. Always will."

She smiles and we kiss, lasting far too long to be brotherly, but far too chaste to be anything else. I walk her back to her apartment, and all things considered, it was a pleasant evening. We had a great time, drinking far more wine than we should have; but the night was cool and the air was crisp. It was a good night to linger.

We do eventually get to her door and we kiss again. This time, far more passionately. I taste the alcohol in her breath and the sweetness of her saliva. It makes me think of the time that....

"I held you down and spit in your mouth. Do you remember?"

I don't respond. I just kiss her even more deeply, savoring the taste of her mouth. I reach around and put my hands on her ass, and....

"Remember the first time you put it in my ass?"

More kissing. More groping. And suddenly, I have to break it off. I pull back. It's too much. Too many memories. Too many times in too many different ways.

"I need to go." Charlotte says immediately, and I understand how she feels. This has to stop before it gets out of hand. I say,

"I need to go too."

"No, you don't understand. I really need to go. I have to pee." Now I realize she is crossing her legs and shifting her weight from one side of her body to the other. The image makes me laugh.

"Don't leave like this. Come in for a second and let me say goodbye to you properly." She opens the door and starts off for the bathroom. I close the door behind me and stand in her apartment uncomfortably. It seems so strange to me. Foreign somehow. I made love to Charlotte in almost every square inch of this apartment and yet, standing here, I felt like a total stranger. Why should I feel this way?

I began to get angry and then I realize I'm being silly. It was completely silly. I would see her tomorrow at work. We would go for coffee and talk about office politics and what was on TV and everything else we had talked about today at work.

It was the wine talking of course, and suddenly, I feel very foolish. Instinctively, I cross the room to tell Charlotte this. It's a bad habit I've developed since meeting her. I always tell her every little thing since we've become friends. I did it before we started having sex and I'll do it long after; so there.

Before I realize what I am doing, my hand seizes around the knob of the bathroom door and I push it open.

We stare at each other, shocked. Of all the times I've seen Charlotte naked, I've never seen her like this. Sitting on the toilet, her jeans and panties are pooled around her ankles; legs partly spread as a trickling sound starts below her. She doesn't move. I don't move. We stay like that, listening to the trickling slow to a small drip. I am vaguely aware that my cock is at full attention, awkwardly jutting from the linen pants I now regret wearing.

Finally she says, "Are you sure you don't have any regrets?"

Without hesitation, I stride towards her unbuckling my belt and kicking off my pants in the four steps it takes to stand in front of her; my enraged cock dangerously close to her moistened lips. Before she can move, I reach behind her and grab the roots of her hair in one fist, pulling her head back firmly. She sits back on the seat and I can see a tiny hint of fuzz just above the mound of her pussy.

For a brief second, my mind protests what the other half of my body is about to do. I try to reason with it but before I can, it pushes me away. I let go of these thoughts. Any thoughts. For me, Charlotte has been and forever will be the part of me that doesn't need reason. Doesn't need thought. Just sweet, perfect, and total release.

I point my cock down and as with the rest of my consciousness, my bladder let's go. I spray a stream of hot piss on her stomach before I can aim it down towards my target.

I had no idea how she would react but I'm amazed when she pushes her hips up at me, arching her back to let her pussy catch the hot stream that jettisons from my body. She moans, her lips part and her mouth opens. I pull her hair harder and kiss her parted lips. Long and hard.

When I finally look down, I see her hand furiously pumping between her legs, not noticing or caring that I am soaking everything. As my trickle slows down, Charlotte seems to be just starting up. She comes close to climax, and I help her along by reaching both hands down and propping her ass up. I slide my cock inside of her. A wave of fury pulses through her as she screams "I love it," over and over and over.

I back away. Not knowing what to do or what to say. I cannot believe what I have just done. If I was scared that I was losing Charlotte before, I'm downright panicked at this point. Her eyes recover from their post-coital glaze and she looks up at me, not saying a word. Unbelievably, she reaches down and pulls up her panties; soaked and still dripping from my mess. The wet lace clings to her pussy and as she gets up, she kicks off the equally soaked jeans that look as if they just came out of the washer. She fixes my gaze and begins walking towards me; even as I take several paces backwards.

Before I know it, she is pushing me onto the bed and climbing over me. Her hot lips touch my ear and I feel their caress before I hear the words, "You didn't let me finish in there." I feel the damp lace pressing against my still-hard cock as she climbs on top of me. She reaches down and pulls off her panties and I seriously begin to worry about what she has in mind. Before I can process the thought I hear,

"Can I finish now?"

I think she means to get another orgasm but before I can read a second meaning into her words she gets up on her knees and lifts her pussy just above me. Before I am able to respond, a rush of hot liquid covers my cock. Hotter than anything I have ever felt. It is as if I'm already inside of her. She reaches down and takes me into her hand, slapping my cock violently against her gushing pussy. Her strokes are so hard that I see liquid fly in every direction. Without knowing how to react, I instinctively open my mouth to groan. As I do so, Charlotte reaches down for her panties and inserts them into my mouth.

I don't taste it so much as I feel it. Warm, wet lace against my lips and face. I am vaguely aware that they are soaking in Charlotte's juices and despite what common sense tells me, I greedily suck at them; tearing them away from her. I know that this is completely wrong but as with everything Charlotte, it feels so right. And it leaves me wanting.

I thrust my hips upward, sinking my cock in her still-dripping pussy. The sensation drives us insane. A loud "Oh" from Charlotte is all I need to begin pumping my cock up and down inside of her as hard and as fast as my hips will allow. It sinks all the way to the hilt each time before our bodies rhythmically separate in anticipation of the next thrust. I don't know if it's her juices or my pre-cum but our bodies have become dangerously slick; slipping and sliding with a frenzy that in all the years of our lovemaking, have never been this intense.

I close my eyes and listen to every slap become wetter, sloppier, nastier. The rhythm accelerates and just when I think we are reaching our limits, I feel wetness slick down my face.

I open my eyes to see a stream of spittle fly at me as Charlotte tries to get the last bit of spit out of her mouth....and onto my face.

I feel the stream course its way down my cheek and Charlotte helpfully shovels it into my now-open mouth. She tries again and all she can manage is a stringy line that extends from her lips to mine. I reach up, pull her head to mine and we kiss like our lives depend on it. I feel the sensation of her pushing more spit into my mouth. Our shared taste being passed back and forth until her mouth begins to fill up again.

Charlotte sits up, sinking my cock all the way into her wetness. As she does so, she gives me a look that tells me that I should open my mouth. That I must open my mouth. And as I do, her pussy clamps tight around my cock.

A lump of spit hits the back of my throat just as the tightness in my balls relax, giving way to a flood of cum that gushes through my body and out of my cock.

Realizing she has set me off, Charlotte tries to lift up; only to encounter unrelenting hands pulling her ass downwards. The result is my cock pushed against the back of her pussy while wave after delicious wave of cum streams into her body. It sets off an orgasm so fierce that I can barely make out the words of her screams.

"Inside....Oh God, you're ....cumming....inside."

It's as if a floodgate has opened. Stream after stream. I feel as if I am pumping my very soul into her. The powerful orgasm that grips her body finally winds down and she collapses on top of me. My cock continues to jump as little waves force out the remaining cum from my cock. Of the hundreds of times Charlotte has made me cum, we've never allowed my orgasm to finish inside of her. Not that we've ever pissed all over each other either, but I guess our last night would be a night of firsts.

I hear her whisper, "I wanted you inside of me so badly. Not just your cock, but all of it. I needed it. It felt so good to have your cum inside of me." I kiss her. Slowly.

Passionately.

Finally, Charlotte swings her legs off of me and I feel the drip of my own cum splashing on my stomach. I look down to see a half- flaccid cock covered in glaze; the bed sheet around us completely soaked. Charlotte kisses me one more time and whispers in my ear, "I get to shower first."

I reach over for my cigarettes and realize that they're across the room. I want to smoke, but I don't want to get up either. Between dinner and what just happened, I am exhausted. But not just exhausted, completely slaked.

My eyes get heavy and as I start to nod off, I am vaguely aware that I am laying in a bed soaked with Charlotte. Somehow, I don't mind. Because it was Charlotte's, its somehow okay. Instead of rolling over, I snuggle myself deeper into the wet bed and soaking sheets.