Every good fling has to come to an end [MF] (Venla final)

I’m a traveling worker who wanders around the United States setting up shop in various National Parks. If it matters, I’m a fit 29 year old that has often been compared to David Tennant when clean cut, and Hugh Jackman as Wolverine when all bearded and rough around the edges (words of others not me; I think I always look like a nerd). This last season I ended up on several sexual adventures. This is a (final) story of my time with Venla, a 26 year old Finnish international visiting the US on a work visa. Venla is a tall (5’10”), dark haired, and green-eyed goddess of a woman with an athletic build and light freckling across her nose and cheeks. Sorry it took so long, this one was tough to write because I’m a sappy little bitch.

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5dq3s1/i_am_one_lucky_fucker/)
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5eld74/from_the_time_on_a_mountaintop_venla_episode_2_i/)

—

I knew from the start it would be nothing more than a Summer fling, but when Venla’s last day stateside arrived it still felt too soon. Venla showed up at my door with all her possessions carried by one of the many guys that had relentlessly fawned over her: Alan. As I opened the door, he looked from her with puppy dog eyes to me with disdain. Venla just smiled and came into my place, completely unconcerned with the feelings of the men who followed her everywhere, as usual.

“Thanks to you,” she said to Alan dismissively, “Bye!”

“You’re welcome! Oh, uh, by the way, I’m going to be touring Europe after th-” Alan began.

“Ohhh, am going to be soooo busy when I go home,” Venla assured, “We talk on insta.”

She nodded, waved, and closed the door on Alan before he could say anything else. Venla sighed, rolled her eyes, and motioned for me to dump all her bags on the floor.

“What, aren’t you going to miss all your ‘beetches’ when you get back?” I teased. She punched my arm, false indignation on her face.

“Just one beetch, really,” she said pointing to me.

“Well, you have to put up with me for a few hours more,” I said, “so there’s still time to sigh and roll your eyes about me, too.”

“No baby,” she consoled, “I cannot hate this one.” She cupped my groin in her hand and squeezed.

My flatmate wouldn’t be back for hours, and we didn’t need to hit the road juuuuust yet (bison traffic willing). The nearest airport here was hardly an ordeal compared to LAX, O’Hare, Atlanta, etc. She ran her thumb up and down the outline of my dick.

As I tossed her onto my bed Venla yelped in surprise. She was giggling as I climbed on top of her, removing my shirt. Venla pulled my hips forward to unbuckle my pants, and whipped out my already fully erect cock. She stroked me slowly, watching the veins bulge as she gave gentle squeezes. Venla bit her lip with that signature mischievous squint in her eyes that meant she was about to bust my balls. Thankfully, never literally.

“Yes, I will miss this one,” she said as she kissed my glans gently, “He better send me selfies when am gone.”

“Oh, you actually want me to send pics?” I asked walking right into her trap.

“Nyeh, not you,” she waved a hand up at me dismissively before brushing her cheek against my shaft, “Just this one.”

“Oh. Oh, really?” I responded, playing along, “We’ll see about that.”

I climbed off of her, and saw the look of confusion I had hoped to inspire. Grabbing her by the hips, I slid her to the edge of my bed with another surprised gasp. She was wearing my favorite short green dress, which I slid up to expose her panties. I kissed her thighs and nuzzled at her black thong, feeling the heat growing within.

“Now I want you to remember who did this,” I said as I pulled her panties off, “Me. Not him.”

I licked and kissed at her clit, encouraged by her little shivers and rapid breaths. She ran her fingers through my hair with one hand and gripped the sheets in a balled fist with the other. Venla moaned for me not to stop, so I didn’t, because who does that?

I flicked my tongue quickly against her clit, slipping one, then two fingers into her as she became more aroused. With slow but firm pressure against the inner walls, I curled my digits repeatedly in little arcs. Venla sighed and giggled, eyes closed as she let me have control. Eventually however I could feel her long muscular thighs flexing against my ears as she began to grind her hips against my face. I knew by now this meant she was getting close, so I thrust my fingers in and out of her as fast as I could while moaning into her with every lap of my tongue.

Her fingers tensed in my hair, pulling my head forward to press so firmly against her it was growing difficult to breathe. Venla moaned and squirmed as she reached her peak, then went quiet as her hips and thighs shook around me. After a long silence she gasped, as if she had forgotten to breathe. She trembled as the waves rushed over her, and I continued to kiss her smooth lips and trace little circles around her clit with my tongue.

“Ok, ok, ok, you point is made,” she said tapping my cheek lightly in approval, “Now give me that one.” She pointed down to my cock, still raging hard and now dripping pre-cum.

“You mean ‘Your point is made’,” I corrected her teasingly, climbing up onto the bed to loom over her on all fours. She was still wearing that tight green dress, though it was hiked up to her waist now.

Venla just smiled mockingly as she wagged her fingers mimicking someone chattering, “bleh bleh bleh bleh! Just fucking fuck me, you cocky beetch.” So I put on a condom, and I did just that.

She was so wet that I slid into her easily. I wrapped my arms around her, palming the back of her head with one hand and gripping her waist with the other. I tilted her head back as I pounded into her, kissing her neck and cleavage. We fucked passionately, wordlessly, for an indeterminate amount of time. I took her from behind against the door, watching her exquisitely tight ass bounce with every thrust. After that she rode me so long and hard I thought my bedframe would shake apart. I can’t even remember how many times we both came, for once completely unconcerned with the noise we were generating.

Then my cellphone beeped, and the next time I had a second to catch my breath I decided to check it. Shit, it was later than I thought. I had an IM from my flatmate, Derek:

“Hey dude, just let me know when you guys are decent.”

“What time is it?” Venla asked as she tried to fix her tangled dark hair.

“We should go,” is all I said as I picked up all the condom wrappers I’d flung about the room like a guy with a stack of ones at the strip-joint.

We cleared out of there fast, and I tried to avoid grinning like an idiot as I apologized to Derek on the way out. Venla blasted whatever she wanted the whole way. Amon Amarth, Nightwish, Therion, Eluveitie. It was better that way, not talking about the impending separation.

When I pulled up to the departures, it felt surreal. I got out, helped her with her bags, and hugged and kissed her goodbye. Whenever one of us would try to break the kiss, the other would pull them back in.

“I don’t want to go,” Venla said finally.

“I’ll come visit you in Europe,” I assured her.

“You won’t, baby,” Venla said with resignation, “but you think you will right now. So thank you.”

She laughed then, and brushed a hand through my beard.

“Besides, I know you,” she continued smiling, “You will find a new one. Fast. Don’t worry, a told all the girls at camp you give the best massage.”

“What?!” I said, feeling myself blush.

“My goodbye gift,” she said nodding triumphantly while flaring her eyebrows, “Beat that one, baby.”

We said our final goodbyes, and I drove home through a sudden thunderstorm. That’s the last I saw of Venla, beyond talking on facebook or instagram. She’s engaged as of just last week, actually. That poor/lucky bastard’s pelvis…

Anyway, I have a few more notable experiences (partially thanks to Venla’s final act as #1 wingman) if you want.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5g75q9/every_good_fling_has_to_come_to_an_end_mf_venla