Final Part: [MF] Backpacking through Asia and Hardfucking the girl of my dreams.

[part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6u8p7d/mf_backpacking_through_asia_and_hardfucking_the/)
[part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6uock9/mf_part_ii_backpacking_through_asia_and/)

[So sex is offset by ********* if you horny mother fuckers want to read about an attempted cream pie and good ol shower HJ. It got kind of long and self-involved so i don’t blame you if you do. I’m not a writer and writing about this took a lot more out of me than I thought it would. I like to think i’m pretty fucking zen about my life, my relationships, my experiences, and who I am, but fuck man, I guess this is still a little raw. I’m probably going to take a break from writing, but thanks for reading.]

*When i woke up, the room was still and stuffy, and the sun was hot through the curtains. I checked my phone. It was almost 10. i knew she needed to be at the village she was working at by 8, but she had left a note- “Get out of my room you creepy fuck! XXOO, K. PS, I’ll text you if i get reception up there.”*

*I picked up my stuff, and walked the mile or two back to my place and fell back asleep for a couple of hours. I had planned on leaving later in the afternoon, but God damn I didn’t want to go.*

I was suppose to leave that day. We had talked about it, acted like it was unfair but inevitable. Acted like it was what it was. Adults meet, connect, fuck, and then say good-bye. It’s what adults do, no reason to be a fucking bitch about it. But as I sat at the edge of my bed staring at my duffel bag, the scent of her pussy still on my hands, I knew we were fucking lying to ourselves and each other. I knew it then, and I still know it now. This was fucking different.

I took my time showering, getting dressed, and packing my shit. I took my time getting lunch, buying some snacks, looking for excuses to stay, and refusing to admit that i was killing time in hopes that I’d get a message from her. That she’d write me to say “Hey man. Maybe just stick around one more night. Let’s get a drink.” My phone stayed silent, and around 4 pm i ran out of excuses and things to do, so i rode off. I put down a little over 120 kms in the next hour and a half, and as the sun started dropping behind the hills the cell signal started to give out in places Not wanting to miss a text, and knowing she said she was usually back from the village by 5:30, I parked in a place where the signal was strong and waited. My phone vibrated.
“Hey!” It vibrated again. “How are you?” I thought to myself, ‘Don’t fuck this up Tommy! Do no fucking text that you’re doing horrible, that you’ve been listening to fucking Pete Yorn, and tearing petals off roses while writing haikus for r/emosadstoriesnoonewantstohear.
“~~good~~ ~~So good!~~ Haha… so maybe I kind of miss you?” I waited.

“I spent most the day wishing i could take a nap” My stomach dropped a little “And thinking about you.”

I wrote back “I’ve heard Maumere (the town I was headed towards) kind of sucks. Nothing but elitist 1 percenters”

“You should just be here tonight” she wrote back.

‘Fuck it!’ I thought, ‘don’t be snarky, don’t be coy, just fucking say it.’

“I don’t want to seem pushy or clingy. I don’t want you to feel obligated. But I don’t want to be anywhere but with you tonight. What if I just turned around and we drank warm beer tonight?” Send.

I waited, trying not to stare at my phone. My stomach felt light. My phone buzzed.

“Just get back here.”

I had already turned my bike to face the direction I had come from. I started the engine, pulled my helmet down and rode back. I wasn’t stupid about this. I knew it was juvenile and impulsive. I knew that every fucking 18 year old brit on gap year meets “the love of their life” in fucking cambodia, or bangkok, or madrid or some shit. Fuck, i had done the same thing with some italian girl in kathmandu 10 years earlier. But this? This was fucking different, but was it? I knew nothing about her, right? She had two brothers. No. two brothers and a step-sister. Her parents where doctors. She loved her dad, but respected her step-dad. Good Tommy. You’re doing good. She cared deeply about people and things, and little baby polar bears floating into oblivion because of greenhouse gas or some shit. She took life and death and compassion seriously but still made jokes about AIDs. She had been working in rural villages making sure solar somethings were doing something to help women? Women and orphans? No just women. She wasn’t cliche enough to work with orphans. She kept her toenails painted a perfect shade of red, and casually tossed Rage Against The Machine and Townes Van Zandt lyrics into conversations. She had a small triangle tattooed on her shoulder and Weezer symbol tattooed on her foot (record scratch, brake screech)… “Shhhh” she said when I asked if that was really a Weezer symbol tattooed on her foot, “high school ok?!” She looked younger than her age and acted older than she was. “Fuck it” I decided, “You fucking love her.”

By the time I got back into town it was dark and she was drinking at the towns only bar with some co-workers. I’m not sure why, and it instantly seemed stupid to me, but I hadn’t stopped to think that of course, after living in the town for 3 months, she’d have co-workers and friends. She introduced me to everyone and they were mostly nice. She told one of her friends, an indian girl with a british accent, “This is the guy I was telling you about.” The girl gave me a knowing smile and raised an eyebrow. Kristina swiveled around towards me, her back to the bar. I ordered a beer over her shoulder while i stood between her legs and she wrapped her arms around my hips. And like that, I knew I made the right decision. “I’m glad you came back,” she said. I laughed, my clothes smelled like sweat, and gasoline, “I am too.”
************
2 hours later we were both pretty drunk I was standing in her shower. The water felt good on my tanned skin. She opened the door and then closed it behind her. I watched her put her hair up, take her towel off, and hang it on the hook. I didn’t say a word. She didn’t say a word. She stood in front of me with a thigh pressed between my legs, lathered the soap in her hands, and then slid them up and down my body. my hands ran over her perfect little brown tits. my thumbs circled her plumb little nipples. She was so fucking small. it felt like I could wrap my hands around her waist. She grabbed a hold of my dick and began to stroke it while she pulled me close and ran her other hand over my ass. Her fingers where so delicate and quick- well defined veins stood out on the top of her hand- and my very average sized dick looked intimidating in it.

She squeeze me a little harder and stroked me a little quicker. I grabbed her ass, sliding one finger down between her cheeks and resting it on her tight little asshole. I pulled her in more firmly towards me. “hey,” she looked up at me, “let me take care of you.” She took the shower head and rinsed me off before she grabbed me by the dick and led me out of the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed as she straddle me. My dick pushed against her pussy and I could feel how warm and wet she was. she slid three fingers into my mouth, slowly pulled them out, and then rubbed my spit between her legs. She leaned back, picking her weight off my thighs and my cock slowly slid into her. I never fuck without a condom, but at that moment, it felt so right. It felt dirty, and stupid, and warm, and wet, and perfect.

She wrapped her arms around my neck- her body pressed completely against me- and slowly slid up and down my dick. “Fuck me daddy,” she whispered in my ear and she ground down against the base of my cock. “Fuck that tight little pussy.” i pushed my hips up off the bed a little sliding my cock even deeper into her. I was pushing against something inside of her and she swiveled her hips back and forth “Fuck me daddy” her lips were pressed against my ear as she repeated that over and over again. I laid back on the bed, she shifted forward so one of her brown little tits was in my mouth and fucked me like that until her breezing became shallow, until every muscle seemed to contract, until she pressed her mouth against mine, her spit dripping across my tongue “I’m cumming” she whispered and pushed me as deep into her as she could. Her pussy clenched against my dick, and i was barely holding back. “Just do it” she whispered with her mouth on mine. “It’s fine.” I couldn’t do it so i pulled her off, pulled her tight into me and let go with her body stomach pressed firmly against my cock.
*********

We laid there that night wrapped around each other talking about the future. Things we loved. Things we hated. Our parents. Relationships. The seemingly futile contradictions of love. “You’re probably going to stay here for a bit, right?” she finally asked. And I did. We spent almost every free minute she had together and slowly realized we were deeply, deeply in love, but would never be happy together.

As i sat there next to her at that bar in San Francisco 2 months ago, it all felt so real again. So vivid. Too vivid. Humid nights, and never ending rain storms pinging tin roofs. one of her thighs thrown over me as we slept on top of the sheets. Rolling over after she had left in the morning and the smell of her hair still on the pillow. The heat of the summer day burned off, the city grew slowly quieter, Leon Bridges was playing, my head began to spin a little from the whiskey. She was sitting so close to me, our thighs were touching. ‘Tommy,’ she said, ‘we were right, right? Like… we were right…’ I didn’t know. I don’t know. It didn’t feel like it was right decision at that moment and it didn’t as i drove off almost three years earlier, but it probably was. We had 2 perfect weeks. We were mad and in love and we had fire and passion. We were on top. Why ruin that by bringing it back to the real world. To real life. To paying student loans, and figuring out health insurance and car payments and wasting Wednesday nights watching reruns of Chopped. We’d end up fighting about stupid shit. Don’t all couples. Or maybe we wouldn’t. Her mom would wonder why I wasn’t working for a big firm. She cared so much. She cares so deeply, and me? I don’t. I don’t give a fuck about things. About refugees, or Trump, or making signs. I love polar bears, but I don’t care about them. I want to be good to the people I know. Kind to those I don’t, but I can’t get myself to do more than that, and I probably never will. She’d grow tired and frustrated by that. She’d grow resentful that I couldn’t care about what she had dedicated her life to and I’d resent her for resenting me. Or maybe we wouldn’t. It was too late now. “I don’t know K…” A couple walked by holding hands, and then a homeless woman with a cat resting on her head. I had a hard time focusing on anything but my hands wrapped around my glass, so i stared at them. “I don’t know K…” She put slid her hand, her perfect little hand, over mine and leaned in close to me. “I love you, you know. I always will.” The looked up and the homeless lady with the cat had begun to sing a justin bieber song. Wabi Sabi and shit. It’s all so odd, these lives we live.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6uuv7u/final_part_mf_backpacking_through_asia_and