Chapter 8: Only Memories Remain
When I wake up on Sunday morning, she’s already out of bed. She’s in and out of the room, and I’m in and out of consciousness for the first few minutes.
I’m fucking spent. It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked this much, and I’m also sore from the activity of running around Annapolis, and hung over from the seemingly endless amount of weed and drinks. She comes back in and joins me in bed. I begin to realize I’m starting this day on less than 4 hours of sleep.
It’s 8:37 a.m. “Just a Friend” by Biz Markie is playing in the background of the room.
She turns around and buried her head into my chest. She seems completely depressed. I’m shocked by this. She’s tiny, but she’s typically both mentally and physically tough. She’s never shown this outward, non-sexual emotion in the past. Even when we broke up.
“What’s wrong??”
“I don’t know. I’m just sad.”
“About what babe??”
“I just….”
“Do you want to talk about it??”
“I just need a few to gather my thoughts”
“Of course”
She laid in my arms for nearly 30 minutes. I hold her throughout it all. I rub her back. I kiss her head. I tell her everything is going to be ok.
She starts to regain herself.
“I’m so sorry” she says looking up at me from
my chest.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I just want to know you’re going to be ok” I tell her.
“I’ll be fine. I just…No one has ever made me feel as safe and as loved as you have. You’re such a nice guy” she tells me with tears welling in her eyes. We have our best kiss of the weekend in that moment.
It’s 9:24 a.m. “Maps” by the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs is playing in the background.
She makes breakfast. Same as the morning before – bacon, eggs, coffee, and mimosas. After talking about how depressing the next forever election cycles are going to be.
We retire to the couch. One last joint before i plan my departure in a few hours. We watch a rerun of The Daily Show. Soon after the show wraps she gets a call from a girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, I need to take this. My friend is going through a bad breakup. She’s supposed to hit the road soon, so this should only take 10 mins babe”.
“Oh sure, no problem. I hope she’s doing ok”.
They chat on the phone and right away I can tell this will be more than a 10 minute conversation.
As sweet as this morning has been, I have been plotting capturing at least one more fuck before I go. I mean after all, the amounts of times I’ll be able to will be very limited in the near future.
My depraved thoughts are starting to get the best of me. I can’t stop looking at her chest as she’s talking to her friend on the phone.
I take her left hand and I plant a kiss on it. She smiles at me and chats away. I slowly guide her hand under the blanket that’s draped over my lap.
She starts rubbing her hand over my hardening cock. It’s as big and hard as it’s been all weekend.
She alternates between rubbing the length of my dick with an open palm, to turning her fingers into a mini claw and lightly scratching my dick from to base.
I lower my shorts, my black cock bounces as it’s freed from the waist band of me boxer briefs . She wraps her hand around my cock and strokes it slow at first.
She quickly gains speed. Pumping my cock in her tiny fist, which is so small her fingers can’t connect when wrapped around the shaft
of my big black cock.
She never really looks at me or my cock as she strokes away. She just keeps chatting away with her friend. Occasionally squeezing harder than before. Occasionally removing her hand from my cock, briefly pulling her face away from the phone, spitting into her hand and back to stroking me. Not once making eye contact with me. The fact that she can’t even acknowledge my perversion turns me on more than she knows.
In my mind I’m thinking. “That’s right, act like I’m not here. Don’t you dare fucking look at me slut. Beat the cum out my fucking dick”. She continues playing the situation perfectly, and I eventually shoot a few thick ropes of cum all over her hand.
She licks it off of her fingers as she continues talking. Now she’s staring at me teasingly as she licks my sticky white nut from her tiny fingers.
We spent the rest of our time laying over each other in the couch and watching baseball. Once the laundry was all done, I showered and began packing my things.
We talk for a bit about when we can see each other again. I’m checking the iPhone calendar that contains my entire life. She retrieves her paper calendar that hold every important detail of hers.
We agree that the best window is the 2nd or 3rd weekend in May. We agree to reassess as the date gets closer.
I load up my bags near the door. She hands me a ziplock bag of chocolate chip cookies to take home. She so fucking adorable. I almost pinned her to the wall by her throat at that exact moment. But that thought quickly fades. I’m out of time. Time is once again the undisputed champion of all my regrets.
I pull her in close. I give her a slow and light kiss. I tell her that this weekend has been almost as amazing as she is.
She smiles. She kisses me while she rubs her hand on my chest. “I can’t wait to see you again” she says as she squeezes my arm.
I carry my bags down, and load them into the car. I plug in my address to the navigation, and I set off.
It’s 5:13 p.m. “Only Memories Remain” by My Morning Jacket.
It is appropriately the first song that hits form the playlist – our playlist – as I start the return trip home.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/us0gyx/the_dc_girl_chronicles_reunion_mf