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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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Archive name: letter.txt (MF, 1st)
Authors name: Alfred E. (alfrede65@hotmail.com)
Story title : Goodbye Letter
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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Goodbye Letter (MF, 1st)
By Alfred E. (alfrede65@hotmail.com)
***
You must be at least 18 to read this story. That's all of
your fingers and toes if you operate heavy equipment, and
a little more if you live in Arkansas. If you're not 18,
try reading alt.stories.boring.notsexyatall.
***
I am writing this letter to say goodbye.
By now it's 10 in the morning, and you probably just got
out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Most likely
you've noticed I wasn't lying next to you like I had been
every morning for five years, but maybe you didn't
notice.
Maybe you didn't even notice that my side of the bed -
the left side, even though you know I prefer the right -
had cooled. That I was no longer there, the pillow
indented where my head had been.
You've stumbled into the bathroom to relieve yourself,
and you found this letter, folded neatly, with the corner
tucked into the mirror frame. The letter that I was awake
at 4 am on a god damned Tuesday writing.
A letter that I wrote while I cried for you.
I cried for you: you who can't show any more emotion than
to hoot and shout with your animal friends as the Packers
win another game.
Can you see the tearstains? Can you see where the
scribbled handwritten ink is awash in my dried tears,
spreading turquoise spots in the sea of angry blue.
Can you see how much I loved you, how much I tried to
always love you? Can't you see the way you ripped my
heart out time and time again and ate it, ate it standing
right there in front of me, eating my heart, and I didn't
say a word. I never said a word, because dammit I loved
you. And I thought you loved me, too.
Well, I'm gone now.
I've left you, and if you don't know why, think about it.
Think about it, think about how you can't even understand
why I'm gone now, and you'll get it.
You'll see.
You know how much I tried to make you love me, and how
much I loved you, and how much I love you even now. God
damn it, you know at least that.
But that's not enough, you know? It's just not enough for
me to love you. No matter how much I tried to love you
enough for the both of us, it doesn't work.
It just doesn't work.
So I've left.
After five years of being married to you, it doesn't work
and I've left.
And I don't want you to think that this is easy for me.
Because it isn't. There may have been a lot of things
wrong with us, but damn it, there were a lot of things
right, and I hate to leave you.
There are a lot of things right about us, and I hate to
leave it all behind, I hate to leave all the good, but
there's so much of us that's rotten to the core.
But there are things that are right, too. I'll have to
admit, we were great in bed, weren't we?
Do you remember homecoming?
I know you must. Maybe not like I remember it, but I know
you remember.
I know you remember after the dance, but do you remember
the dance? We were all crowded inside our tiny high
school gym. It was cramped and hot: too many bodies in
too small of a space.
They tried to make it look formal and important, with
crepe paper running across the ceiling in our school
colors, blue and white, and fancy tablecloths on the same
tables that we ate at every day at lunch.
The DJ, some pimply kid from the AV class with good taste
in music, kept playing those throbbing dance songs. I
remember we both danced to the deafening thump of
Madonna's bass dance beat, throwing are bodies around the
dance floor, are eyes glued to each other.
I also remember that slow song, and maybe you remember
that, too. The air had stopped shattering itself 125
times a minute, and started to thrum. You pulled me close
to you, so close are bodies pressed desperately together
in the low light and oppressive heat.
I remember the heat of the room and our dancing had made
us both sweat. I snaked my bare arms under your too-small
tux jacket around you broad chest, and I could feel your
hot skin through the damp shirt. I laid my head on your
chest, listening to the powerful, reassuring thump of
your heart, imagined it saying, "I love you," every beat.
You were planting soft kisses on my neck, your strong
arms wrapped around me; our body's melted together,
molten. With my head against your chest I could smell
your smell, the musty scent of a man, hiding behind the
tangy-sweet fragrance of Old Spice.
Pressed against your body like that, I could feel the
heat of you and felt my own body awakening to your
attention. Trapped against your chest, my nipples began
to harden; until I knew you must be able to feel them
poking through the silky material of my dress - the kind
you didn't wear a bra with - into your chest.
I remember sighing, and feeling your own body respond to
mine. I felt your growing hardness press against me. I'd
never seen it, never felt it - I was the sweet girl that
sat in the back of the class, not the cheerleader under
the bleachers - but I could tell it was big, as it grew
against me.
The growing hardness only added to my own arousal. I
looked you in the eyes, then, gazing into that deep blue,
and kissed you, softly at first, but then aggressively,
with passion and desire as I pressed my hips into your
erection. I could feel my panties grow slightly damp and
that full feeling in my hips that told me I was aroused.
You leaned down a bit to whisper in my ear, "Do you wanna
get out of here?" and then "We can get room or
something."
When I said yes, you were probably glad that you found a
chick that would put out. I'll bet you ecstatic that I
was "easy."
But I want you to know that saying yes was one of the
hardest things I've done. And I didn't say yes because I
was easy - far from it.
I said yes because I loved you, even then, and I really
thought that you loved me, too. I thought that you loved
and knew that you definitely would if I slept with you.
And even though we never got along after that night, even
though I'm leaving you know, I want you to know I never
regretted saying yes.
Even though if anyone else had said the same thing any
other time, I would have slapped him, I never regretted
saying yes.
I never regretted saying yes, and not for your sake, but
for mine. Maybe we always fought, and maybe you didn't
love me, but damn it, the sex was always incredible.
You drove us to that Motel 6 down the street, where you'd
reserved a room the night before. I recognized several of
the cars outside the motel as your high school buddy's,
as we walked into the brown dimly lit room.
There was a bed and a bathroom, but not much else. It
didn't really matter; decor was the last thing on my
mind. I was a nervous girl that had never "done it"
before.
I may have been nervous, but I was sure that I wanted it.
You were strong and handsome, even now you still are. I
was in love with you, and I was still turned on from the
dance.
So there I stood, in the middle of the room, my eyes on
my feet, and WHAM, I was trapped in your arms, and you
were kissing me, your tongue probing deeply into my
mouth.
After I got over the shock, I kissed back. I liked the
feeling of being at your mercy, a slave to your passion.
It felt good to put my hand to the hard, flat muscles of
your chest, to sense the raw power.
You sat me down on the end of bed, standing over me for a
minute, tilting my head back with your hand on my chin.
You bent over to kiss me as I sat there, gazing up into
your eyes.
Your hand went to my breast, not a squeeze or a push, it
just rested there. I felt my breath come in sharply, and
my breasts swell suddenly as my chest expanded from the
air. My nipples swelled and hardened under your hand, and
my breathing deepened.
You brought your other hand to my chest, and pushed my
gently back onto the bed. I was more than happy to
oblige, kicking off my shoes as you had done yours, and
scooting up until the pillows were under my head.
You went to lay on the bed, not on top of me, as I had
expected, but beside me. You traced the curves of my body
with your large, gentle hand: the narrowing of my waist,
and the swell of my hips. Through the thin silk of the
dress, your hands felt the curve of my belly, the small
hollow of my navel.
As you raised you warm hand to rest just below my breast,
you kissed my neck softly, moving to under my jaw,
causing me to tilt my head back and moan softly.
Your soft kisses migrated lower and lower on my neck, and
you moved to lay over me. I spread my legs a little to
accommodate yours. Your body sank on top of mine, your
weight supported with your arms, so that I could feel the
heat of your body.
All the while you were still gently kissing and sucking
at my neck. Your kisses reached my collarbone, and your
tongue slowly traced the hollow of my collarbone, across
the top edge of my dress.
I felt you arms snake around my body, your large hand
lifting me easily, allowing you to unzip the back of my
dress as I began to unbutton your shirt.
After you had unzipped my dress, you pushed it down - not
off - exposing my breasts to the cool air. You kissed my
breasts softly, just to the inside of the dark circles of
my areolas, as I squirmed and breathed deeply in response
to your teasing.
You drew your head back, blowing gently on one nipple,
then moving the stream of air to the other, watching a
trail of goosebumps raise behind the cool stream of air.
You kissed the undersides of my breasts, and the valley
in between, lavishing attention on my firm young hills.
Then you began to slide my dress slowly down the length
of my body, continuing to slowly exhale over my flushed
skin. As you slid the dress down you caught my panties
with your thumbs, peeling them off of my damp mound,
exposing the slick triangle of my pubic hair.
Your cool breath meeting the wetness of my sex made my
hips raise themselves off the bed, the sultry scent of my
desire wafting into your nose.
Without warning, your tongue darted across the length of
my slit, licking up my juices and flicking across small
hard pearl of my clitoris. I bit my lip and inhaled
sharply, as you drew you head back from my eager hips,
teasing me.
Then you slipped off your unbuttoned shirt, and, standing
briefly at the end of the bed, slid off your pants and
boxers, exposing the full 8 inches of your horn, standing
out impressively against you sculpted muscles.
Spreading my legs with your gentle hands, you climb back
onto the bed, your member resting fractions of an inch
below the opening of my sex.
I bit my lip softly, preparing myself for the intrusion
of your hardness, but it didn't come. Instead, your
grasped me around the waist, rolling over suddenly, so I
ended up kneeling on the bed straddling you.
By the soft look in your eyes, and the desire behind
them, I know that you meant to let me have control of
this moment, to make my own decisions, and go at my own
pace.
I wrapped my hand softly around the length of your
hardness, feeling the heat of it as it pulsed softly in
my hand. I felt more than heard you groan with pleasure
as I pointed it straight up into the cool air, and
position my sex so the lips would just envelope your pink
head.
I could feel my own nectar drip onto your hardness, my
hands on your abs feeling you barely restrain a sudden
thrust, wanting desperately to be inside of me.
Slowly, more for my sake than yours, I let my body sink
lower, feeling the heat of you fill me slowly, my walls
stretching apart to accommodate something much larger
than my exploratory fingers had been. I sank down onto
you until I could sink no more, filled completely.
You had one hand on my hip, and the other fingered my
pearl lazily. I instinctively began that slow, primal
dance, feeling your now wet length move inside of me.
My eyes were half closed with pleasure as I rocked on top
of you. My lower body trembled slightly at the half
pleasure-pain my vagina.
I made slow noises as I breathed heavily, and we rolled
over again. You were kissing me, my mouth, my cheek, my
neck, and continued the slow thrusts inside of me, my own
body rippling in rhythm with yours.
After we had been slowly dancing inside of each other for
what seemed like hours, in slow lazy pleasure, I could
feel the walls of my inner self slowly beginning to
contract. Tension built up in my body, starting from my
hips and radiating into my legs and my chest.
I knew that the same tension was building in you as your
thrusts became deeper and faster, and you breathing came
raggedly between your almost clenched teeth.
The pressure within me built until I could stand it no
more, and my sex contracted violently, my hips bucking. I
could suddenly feel the warm rush of your seed filling
me, as you panted and almost let your weight collapse on
top of me.
We separated and you laid beside me. Both of us stared at
the ceiling, panting.
"I love you," I had said that night.
And you didn't answer.
You never answered.
Goodbye.
As always, I really appreciate any sort of comment you
have. Direct praise/criticism/credit card number to
"AlfredE65@hotmail.com"
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 22