[MF] Backpacking Through Asia and Roughfucking the Girl of My Dreams. Long

This is a repost. I posted this a couple of year ago, but deleted it when I stopped posting on this sub. I figured there might be some people as bored as I am right now who might appreciate it. I’ll have a new story up tonight or tomorrow.

Also I’ve bolded the sexy sex sex sex. Also, also, trigger warning. Are we still doing trigger warnings? Light spanking, slapping, and name calling. Just want to be clear with that. Here! We! Go!

The summer after I finished college, I decided to buy a little yamaha motorcycle in Indonesia, embark from Jakarta and take 4 months to ride it to Sumba. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, I had more or less failed out of college, and had watched most of my friends head to New York for investment banking jobs- you know- to “get jump on things” or some shit. I felt a summer and fall spent surfing and working on (in retrospect) really, really, I mean fucking really, bad poetry was better than whatever I did, but mostly did not, have going on. I got a hold of some austrian guy who had a bike for sale in jakarta, bought a ticket, packed a duffel, and took off.

The next 2 months were amazing and confusing as i rode through Java and Bali- incredible surf spots, long empty summer days, and cold shitty beer, were constantly tempered by this gnawing emptiness and feeling of disconnection. But I lost a couple of pounds, got a ridiculously good tan, and met quite a few life long friends. After a couple of weeks in Bali I became restless, re-upped my visa, headed over to Lombok, and instantly regretted it. For the next couple of weeks I was sick, couldn’t find good food, my bike started having problems, and I was kind of just feeling done. By the time I rolled into a tiny mountain town on the island of Flores, I was thinking about calling the trip, and heading back to Bali to surf until I ran out of money. Then, like 20 minutes later, i met Andrea, and things instantly changed.

I slowly cruised through a dirty town on a dirty road, on a dirty island looking for lunch and locked up my brakes when i saw her sitting alone outside of a little indonesian lunch place. She looked up from her copy of Atlas Shrugged (“knows your enemy” she’d explain days later) and smiled. “Hey,” i said, taking a chance she spoke English, “I’m looking for some tater tots.” She laughed and said, “All they seem to serve here is salmonella.” I parked my bike, grabbed some food, and walked back to where she was sitting. “Hey man,” I laughed, pointing at some kind of rice-ish puddle on my plate, “want to get sick with me?” “Nah bro,” she played it so cool, echoing my chilled out douchiness, “but I’ll drink some of your beer?”

We sat there and talked for the next couple of hours. She was from the states and had actually done grad school at University of Montana in some environmental-sustainability-development-solar-sustainable-something while I was there. It turned out we had some mutual friends and had even been to a couple of the same parties. I fucking adored her. She was funny as fuck, confident in who she was, and nothing i said seemed to offend her. Also, she was midget-tossingly adorable. Half indonesian, with long straight black hair, perfect light brown skin, and these hypnotic green eyes. A slight sunburned reddened her broad cheeks and small upturned nose. She had the type of face you wanted to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life.

Lunch turned to dinner, and dinner turned to drinks, and drinks turned to sex talk. She sat close to me at the bar. My hand rested on her exposed thigh, my fingers easily slid across her perfectly smooth skin and I told her, like the terrible poet I aspired to be, how I thought sex should leave you feeling empty, but full at the same time. How it should feel like two perfectly balanced forces crashing hungrily into each other. She took a swig of her bintang, looked me in the eye, smiled, and said “Yeah, maybe? Most of the time I just like getting choked.”

I didn’t choke her that night, or spank her, or call her a filthy little slut while I stuffed her underwear into her mouth. Instead, we closed the bar down, and I walked her to guesthouse and stood there with my hands in my pockets, oddly intimidated to ask her if she wanted to hang out the next day. We were standing far to close and she swayed a little as her beer buzz burned off in the still island air. I leaned in and we kissed. Her tongue parted my lips long enough to make me want to spend the rest of my life with her, before she pulled her mouth away. “Hey let’s hang out tomorrow,” she kind of giggle, “Just come over when you wake up.”

The next day is still a blur to me. We went to a waterfall. She swam in just her underwear and bra and then just her underwear and sat on my lap and kissed me as my hand ran up her side. Nothing else existed in that moment. I know we were at a waterfall because I still have a picture of us from that day. But as I sit here now I only remember my hand cupping her perfect little brown breast, and rolling her nipple gently between my fingers. Her warm thigh sliding over mine. A drip of water tracing a line from her shoulder down the back of her arm. The sunlight reflecting off her black hair as she squeezed her pony tail dry. Her arms wrapped tight around me waist as we rode back to her place. It felt like we’d been dating for years and by the time she asked me if I wanted to get some beers and just spend the night in her room, I was pretty sure i had fallen in love.

**The window was open and only a couple small candles lit the space. she crawled on the bed, and laid on her back. “Are you going to do this,” she smiled at me as she pulled her tank-top over her head, “or were you all talk.” Both of her firm little tits were exposed and she shimmied off her jean shorts. She laid on her back, propped up on her elbows, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Wearing nothing but an oddly bright red thong. I stood in front of her and pulled off my shirt and then stepped closer to the bed, she slowly spread her legs a little wider, and I undid my belt and felt my shorts fall to my ankles. “Eat my pussy first,” she said, “then do whatever the fuck you want to me.” I stroked my dick, my skin felt warm and I was buzzed from shitty whiskey. “Anything?” I asked. She laughed, “Don’t be a fucking pussy! I said anything!”**

**I knelt in front of her and moved the tiny thong to the side. Her pussy was smooth and i gently slid two fingers over it then slowly spread her apart. My other hand slipped up her body and under her ass, pulling her hips up to my mouth. I slid my tongue up the entire length of her cunt and instantly tasted how wet she was. She let out a soft little moan and ran her hands through my hair. I parted her pussy with my thumbs to expose her clit before i wrapped my lips around it. she pushed her hips up and i slid both hands under her ass so i could control her better. She started to grind into my mouth and i could feel spit dripping down my chin. Her pussy moved up and down me as my tongue worked her clit in slow but firm circles. Her breathing began to grow shallow and i could feel how much wetter she had become.**

**i slid one, then two fingers into her. Her warm walls held my fingers tight while i curled them up to begin stroking her g-spot. I pressed my tongue more firmly against her clit and made every stroke count. Her body began to tremble and she pressed her pussy hard into my face. “Don’t… fucking… don’t fucking stop” she let out small moans. The air was still and hot and wet and the room was silent except for her hurried breathing. And then, she came. Hard. Her entire body rocked with a spasm. She tried to pull away but I only pressed her pussy harder into my face and kept the same steady motion. She grabbed at the sheets, then my hair, trying to push my mouth off her. over and over again her body shook. She pounded her tightly curled fists into the bed and her thighs, slick with sweat pressed against my face. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she moaned pressing her legs even more tightly against me. Her toes curled. “Fuck!” she playfully yelled and she finally pushed my mouth off of her soaking wet cunt. Her little red thong was still pushed to the side and soaked with spit and her cum.**

**I stood up. My dick was dripping with pre-cum. “Now you’re fucking mine,” I smiled and nodded to make sure she was cool with moving into what came next. She rolled on to her stomach and arched her back. All I could see was her little round ass and the single red satiny strap of her thong. A faint tan lines traced her back. “Put a condom on and do your worst” she said as she ran her hand through her hair. “No you little slut,” I laughed, “you put the fucking condom on!” i grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to me. She came off the bed and i forced her to kneel in front of me. I held her head against my thigh and she reached up to pull the condom out of my hand. She giggled a little and pressed her head even harder into my thigh. “Is this funny to you!” I said sternly while i jerked her head by the hair. She slid the rubber over my dick and slowly worked it to the base of my cock with both hands.**

**Before she knew what was happening both of my hands were locked around her slight little neck. I was surprised by how small she felt, how my hands were able to wrap all the way around her so my fingers locked. I pulled her to her feet while she gagged a little and struggled to stand. I looked her in the eye, and nodded at her to make sure we were still on the same page. “We good?” I asked? She nodded, smiled slightly, and winked. I held her up so that her feet were barely touching the ground. “Is this what you wanted!? Is it you fucking little slut!” She nodded and i threw her tiny body on to the floor. “Get on your fucking hands and knees” I said as i kicked her legs apart. I pulled her body so that she leaned over the bed, her hips pressed into the edge and tore her thong off. i balled it up in my hand and reached around her, stuffing it into her mouth.**

**‘I don’t want to fucking hear anything from you while I fuck this pussy.”**

**She nodded and I pushed her underwear deeper into her throat with two fingers. I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. Her back was arched and her pussy glistened. I didn’t ease into her, but licked my hand, stroked my dick and slammed into her as fast and as hard as I could. Her body recoiled, but because her hips were pressed firmly against the bed she had no where to go. “Push back into me! Fucking push into me and take the dick i’m giving you,” I whispered in her ear as i leaned over her body and began pumping in and out of her. I grabbed her hair with both hands. she pushed her ass higher into the air and I fucked her harder than i have ever fucked anyone- her moans and whimpers muffled by her underwear that was slowly spilling out of her mouth and over her lips. Over and over again my dick plunged into her pussy and over and over again she kept her hips up and let me do what i wanted.**

**Finally, trying to hold back my orgasm, I flipped her on to her back and spread her legs. I stood in front of her on the bed, she spit out her underwear and winked at me again. i grabbed her thighs and pushed her knees to either side of her head, her fat little pussy pressed up towards me. I slid back into her as she locked her ankles behind my head. She grabbed my hips and dug her finger nails into my ass. I brought my open hand across her cheek “Don’t you fucking touch me!” i tried to be serious, but it came out as a laugh, and she didn’t let go. By then it didn’t matter any more. I was barely keeping myself from cumming.**

**I pulled out and yanked the condom off. I grabbed her and threw her onto her knees. She reached back, pulled her hair behind her head, and kneeled there with her mouth open, waiting for me. i stroked my dick once, and then twice before I began to cum. I let go and covered her mouth and then her chest. She moved up and down on her knees as my dick slowly stopped spasming. She gave me a kind of questioning look, before she grabbed my semi-flaccid cock and licked the last drips of cum off of it. “Fuck! Dre! What the fuck was that?!” I said as I ran my hands through my hair. She laughed and stood up as i wiped her chest off with a towel. “You’re not done are you?” she laughed as she walked into the bathroom.**

We fucked for the rest of the night and every day for the next two weeks and I’ve never felt more complete. Then one morning, after spending the night laying next to each other and digging into places in our souls we had no place being after knowing each other for several weeks, we realized we didn’t understand what was happening. We did seem to understand the consequences of connecting with someone like this, and maybe it was fear, or immaturity, or that nagging voice constantly telling you you don’t deserve magic- but I rode off. I rode off as the early morning dew lifted from the grass and didn’t look back. Except I did. I do. Over and over and fucking over again.

After we mutually decided that it’d be best if we just left the two weeks as perfect as they were and never spoke again, and I rode to some broke-ass port, and found a broke-ass guesthouse, so i could stare at some rusty, broke-ass ceiling fan while listening to About Today, on repeat, for like 3 fucking days straight, I got an email from her.

“Hey” the subject line said.

“How are you?” read the rest of it.

I didn’t want to respond. I kind of hated her. I kind of fucking loved her.

I responded.

Over the next week the emails that went back and forth successively grew more intense, then peaked, then started to wither and shrink. At first they were mostly sad, then a little more jokey, and familiar, and then only existed to rehashed why the fuck we decided to call quits, what was for me, the most passionate whirlwind of lust, love, sex, compassion, and understanding I had ever experienced. After about ten days it felt like we had run out of memories and the emails trickled to a stop. I moved on. I guess.

Eighteen months later, out of the blue, she followed me on instagram and since her insta had always been private, I followed her back. Being a vain mother fucker, I quickly scrolled back through her feed to the two weeks we had spent together.

There were three pictures. One of the day I visited her at the village she was working at with the caption “Bring a white guy to work day #diversity,” another one of a waterfall we visited together, and the last one, taken just a couple of days before I left, was the back of my head as i stepped out of the bus and captioned with an inside joke- ‘#serendipity.’

Scrolling through the posts i could tell that in the last year and a half she had finished her master’s degree, gone to a couple of yoga retreats, saw a Solange Knowles show, and attended like one fucking million weddings- all while looking drop dead fucking stunning. It looked like she had started dating a man with a nice beard, and they had gone to Spain together, then to North Carolina together, and then he disappeared, and wasn’t in another picture.

Over the next year, after she added me, I’d forget about her only to have small bits of her existence spring into my life at random times and places as i’d scroll through my feed. Andrea flying a kite on a beach with a corona in one hand. Andrea giving a disapproving look to a friend posing in front of that fucking gum wall in Seattle. Andrea at a Ryan Bingham show with a bottle of whiskey she had smuggled in. And then, 3 months ago, in a picture I had taken years earlier, Andrea standing in the water at a rocky beach in Flores. Underneath was a Dorothy Sayer’s quote, “I am at rest with you. I have come home.”

I reached out. I don’t know why. It seemed right. And so, after a couple of DM’s, I came to the bay area on a business trip, and we met up in the late afternoon, on the hottest day of the summer, at a small bar in North Beach. I sat down before she arrived, ordered a beer, and then watched her walk in. She moved so lithely. She moved so well, so fucking well- she always did. Like she was floating through and above it all. I awkwardly stood up to hug her, stumbled from not pushing the stool back far enough, and suddenly felt very self conscious that I was dressed like a trucker from the 70s. She sat down, ordered a beer, swung the stool around so she was facing me, and fuck- those green eyes. Fuck.

“So!” she smiled for a second, “how are you!?”

**It all came back. The first night together. The last night together.**

**”You’re not done are you?!” she laughed as she walked away from me and into the bathroom. I stood there holding my dick in one had, while scratching my head with the other. I heard the sink turn on, then off. The sliver of light from under the bathroom door illuminated my feet and the toilet flushed. She walked back out as she was tying her hair back in a pony tail.**

**The candles still flickered and the heavy stillness of the island night air was cut by the slow putter of a motorcycle. “You’re going to need to help me out,” I gave a small shrug and pointed at my dick. “Oh! I can help with that!” she said as she pressed herself against me and playfully began pushing me back towards the bed. I sat on the edge with my legs spread and she kneeled in front of me. “Let’s see what I can do to get you all fixed up,” she said as she simultaneously slid both of her hands up my thighs and wrapped her warm, soft lips around the head of my dick.**

**I leaned back slightly and she took all of it into her mouth. She pressed her tongue against the underside of my quickly hardening cock and then ran it up the entire length. Up and down. Her mouth growing wetter as she pushed my dick against the back of her throat and held it there. i could feel her spit dripping down the sides and over my balls. As i became completely hard, she brought her arms behind her back, grabbed her own wrists, and locked them there. She was only using her mouth now as she gagged on me.**

**i leaned forward farther, grabbed her ponytail with both hands and pushed my hips a little off the bed. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” I had total control of her mouth. It was my fucking hole to use, and she knew it. I pushed my dick into the back of her throat and she began to gag a little while I held her there. She steadied her self, spit dripped to the floor as she looked up at me, her eyes watered, but I could tell she was smiling. She fucking loved this. I pulled her mouth off my cock. “Do you like this?! i leaned forward, holding her face in front of mine. “Keep that mouth open! Do you fucking love this?!” she nodded her head enthusiastically and stuck her tongue out. I laughed. i couldn’t help myself. it was so much fucking fun. “Do you like this?!” I lightly spit in her mouth as her own spit rolled off her tongue and on to her thighs. She raised her eyebrows and nodded again. “And this?!” I leaned closer to her and spit in her face. Her mascara had begun to slightly run, as she kept her mouth open, but nodded again.**

**i stood up, still holding her by her ponytail. Her mouth was an inch from my dick “God damn Dre,” i said laughing, “what am i going to do with you?!” She looked up at me, wrapped both hands around my soaking wet dick, “Um buy me dinner and tell me i’m pretty?” she smiled slightly as she started to slip her hands up and down me. I laughed, and playfully brought my hand across her face, “nope,” I said. now my dick was pressed into her cheek and she looked up at me smiling “Do it again,” she said and i brought my hand across her cheek a little harder. ‘Again please’ she said matter of factly and she had stopped smiling. i slapped her again, this time harder- hard enough (since I had just met her two days earlier) that I felt a little uncomfortable. But almost instantly she was back on my cock, attacking it like she’d never suck a dick again.**

**Her hands reached around and grabbed my ass. i spread my feet apart to brace myself and she pulled me deep into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down as i repeatedly slammed into he back of her throat. “Fuck, Dre! Hey Andrea!” I pulled her off my dick, she looked up at my hungrily. “Hey, what the fuck am I going to do with you,” I repeated. She bit her lip, and then brought one finger slowly across it. “Ummm, fuck me?” And fuck her I did.**

**I pulled my last condom from my wallet while she bent over the bed. “Are you ok with spanking me?” She asked as she spread her legs in front of me. “Because I really like to get spanked.” This was truly serendipity. I brought my hand down over and over again on her tight, brown, little ass. I spanked her until my palm stung, her ass felt hot to the touch, and i could see her pussy was literally dripping. i couldn’t hold back any longer. i grabbed the shaft of my cock, spit on her pussy, and watched it slide down over her fat little lips. “Now i’m going to fuck you.”**

**”Do it daddy,” She responded.**

**And with that it was go time. i plunged in and out of her. i grabber her hips and pulled her off the bed. i fucked her as hard as i could. only slowing down to crack my palm across her ass, and then speeding right back up again. It felt like I was a fucking piston and her body was made for me. She reached back with both hands and grabbed her own pony tail, arching her back while simultaneously forcing her face into the bed. It was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen, but i didn’t let up. It only made me fuck her harder.**

**The harder I hit the back of her pussy the more she squirmed and finally, when it felt like i couldn’t fuck her for a minute more, her body began to freeze up. her muscles tightened. i could feel her flex her thighs and ass and push back hard into me. Her hands grabbed the sheets on either side of her. “Fuck, FUck, FUCk, FUCK!” she screamed. It was probably 4 am, no one else was staying at her guesthouse, but she was so fucking loud that even i felt a little reticent. “FUCKKKK, I’m… I’m cumming.” her body shook and rolled on my dick. She pulled hard at the sheets as i grabbed, and held on to, her ass as hard as i could. i couldn’t take it any more.**

**Her hips were still bucking up and down on my dick, but I pulled out and quickly jerked the condom off. my balls had begun to spasm and I couldn’t hold back any longer. She was still slowly writhing on the bed. Breathlessly she whispered, like she was talking to herself, “wait for me.” and slid between my legs and the bed. her eyes were closed and she swatted my hand off my dick, before wrapping her lips around just the head. That’s all it took and I came. Hard. Embarrassingly hard. She kept her eyes closed. Slid her mouth off my dick. Some cum and spilled on to her chin and she leaned her head back and swallowed. “Fuck” i said.**

**The candles had gone out, but the eastern sky was beginning to turn light blue with pre-dawn light. The air was still humid and warm and we sat on her little porch in nothing but towels listening to The Lumineers or some shit and smoking clove cigarettes. “I’m going to be shit today,” she said and took a drag. “I should, ummm probably, umm go home?” I responded. She leaned against me. Her hair was still a little damp with sweat. “Fuck off. You’re staying here.” Roosters had begun to crow and I could smell, when the breeze blew, wood smoke from a cooking fire somewhere.**

When i woke up, the room was still and stuffy, and the sun was hot through the red curtains- bathing the room in a dingey orangish light. 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 on her pillow-

“Get out of my room you creepy fuck! XXOO, A.

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. It was a one night. I didn’t even know her last name.

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, my thoughts punctuated by the steady click of the ceiling fan, and 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 not fucking text her that you’re doing horrible, that you’ve been listening to fucking Pete Yorn, and tearing up as you write emo haikus in your head.

“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 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 with something? Women and orphans? No just women. She wasn’t cliche enough to work with orphans. Her toenails were painted a perfect shade of red, and she 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?!” Like that was an excuse? 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. Andrea 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 and I was standing in her shower. The water felt good on my 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. my thumbs circled her 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 them.**

**She squeezed me a little harder and stroked me a little quicker. I grabbed her ass, sliding one finger down between her cheeks and resting it against her 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 straddled 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 as 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 tits was in my mouth and fucked me like that until her breathing 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 stomach pressed firmly against my dick. I could feel every spasm and she slowly slid her body up and down me. My pulsating cock quivering from what she had done to me. For me. She rested her mouth on mine and circled it with her tongue before sliding off of me and licking my cheek.**

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 for weeks and slowly realized we were deeply, deeply in love, but sometimes, and maybe always, it’s better to burn out than it is to rust. And then I packed up my bag and I rode away. And she pretended to sleep.

And then I was there, two months ago, sitting next to her at a bar in San Francisco, and all those moments came back to me, like motes of dust caught in the afternoon light, appearing, and shimmering and then just as quickly fading into shadows. I was back there again. At the end of the world in a little room. 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. waking up after she had left for work only to smell her scent pressed into the damp pillow next to me. Sweat and sun-burnt skin. Quiet laughter late in the evening or early in the morning. The blur of days and nights. Intimacy and distance.

And she is sitting next to me now and this bartender won’t stop talking to her about Wisconsin and she keeps turning to me and laughing and so much has changed but it feels like nothing really has. I can reach my hand out. I can hold her delicate fingers in mine. The heat of the summer day begins to burn off, someone next to us is smoking pot, the city grows slowly quieter, Leon Bridges is playing, my head begins to spin from the whiskey. All those memories. How were they still there? She is sitting so close to me, our thighs are touching.

’”Tommy,’ she says, ‘we were right, right? Like… we were right…’ And the question hangs there between us like a fucking lit bomb. I didn’t know. I don’t know. It didn’t feel like it was the right to not be with her at that moment and it didn’t feel right to leave her as i drove off almost three years earlier, and it doesn’t feel right as i type this, but I’m not with her so does it matter? We had two perfect weeks. We were mad and in love and we had fire and heat. We were on top. Why ruin that by bringing it back to this world. To this 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 real job. Or maybe she wouldn’t? Andrea cared so much about everyone, about hurt, and sadness, and fairness and little kids with snotty noses. 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 don’t march. Or fight for change. I don’t even fucking like change.

I like polar bears, and I guess I think glaciers are neat, but I don’t really 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. Maybe we’d be happy and I’d watch my child at her breast with his chubby hand wrapped around her finger as she stared past me- bathed in late winter sun. It was too late now. It can be too late? “I don’t know Dre…” The bartender had shut up about Wisconsin. A couple walked by holding hands, and then a homeless woman with a cat resting on her head passed by. I had a hard time focusing on anything but my hands wrapped around my glass, so i stared at them. All I wanted was to touch her. “I don’t know Dre…” She slid her hand, her perfect little hand, over mine and leaned in close to me. “I love you, you know. I always will.” I looked up and the homeless lady with the cat on her head had begun to sing a justin bieber song- to herself, and terribly off key. Wabi Sabi and shit.

It’s all so odd, these lives we live.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fl0imq/mf_backpacking_through_asia_and_roughfucking_the