10,000

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I saw the fear in his eyes when I confessed to him that something was missing. The reflection of my cracking voice in his face was exactly what I expected. The best thing that ever happened in my life had started to unravel and I couldn’t explain why.

We had been best friends for a year in grad school. An inseparable pair in our first study group, we made each other laugh uncontrollably on day one. We found ourselves innocently sharing our life stories in the library three nights a week. I was amazed at how intelligently he told the simplest of stories. Our classmates clearly saw where we were headed before we did.

We were both in dead end relationships until the day of graduation when we both found enough strength to face the fact that we had grown to be more than friends in that small college town. We were perfect for each other and we knew it.

And then we moved. Me to Boston and him to San Diego. For 27 months and 2 weeks we had the strongest long distance relationship imaginable. While I counted every day & night that we were physically apart – the longest drought was 54 days – I never really missed him.

Honestly I was either at work or we were on the phone. Always. We talked about work, travel, our future house, sex, the economy, his football team, my basketball team, sex, my clothes, his car, our mothers, politics and sex. We fucking completed each other.

And then we’d finally meet in person and, well, fuck each other silly. Not a lot of verbal activity. Condoms, lubrication and energy drinks. Very little talking when we in person. We just fit perfectly. And as soon as we were dressed and in front of the airport – yes, sometimes there was fuckery en route to the airport – we’d be back to talking nonstop.

So I couldn’t understand how I found myself telling the man I loved so deeply that there was something missing. And that something I could not explain.

The first two years in the same house were hectic because of outside reasons. We moved three times because of work, my mother got sick, there was that hurricane and we started planning a wedding.

But I remembered the night that he proposed that I had canlı bahis a twinge of fear that something was missing. I brushed it off as nerves, but I distinctly remember that piece of doubt.

I would describe that piece of doubt as the missing puzzle piece in a 10,000 piece puzzle that seemed meaningless when you had 100 pieces put together. But as we reached 2000 pieces the thought of that one missing piece started to annoy me. And there we were at 8,000 pieces and all I could imagine was that big fucking empty space in our perfect puzzle.

And I had no idea what that piece was. So I kept it to myself until we were down to our last 50 pieces.

Along the way, of course, I tried everything. From dance classes to making sex tapes, from quitting a job and finding a new one to getting a cat we didn’t need. And he happily went along for the ride because I was his best friend.

But I saw that the last few pieces were on the table and that piece was nowhere in sight. So I told him.

I saw the hurt in his eyes as clear as the glasses on his face. But I also saw that he’d known all along that there was a missing piece. So there was this brief comfort of knowing I wasn’t alone.

But that comfort ended when he kissed me on my forehead and grabbed his car keys. Without as much as a word he walked out of our front door with a pace that begged me to stop him.

But I didn’t.

A week later, I stopped crying. Unsurprisingly we didn’t try to contact each other. For four years we had talked constantly and now we completely understood that we needed space.

Space to find that missing piece.

Or come to terms with the fact that the missing piece had never really existed.

After another week I was ready to give up hope. We knew we were safe because he could see that I’d paid the bills online and I knew that he’d come by the house while I was at work to take out the trash, feed the cat and get fresh clothes. We weren’t avoiding each other but we were avoiding the missing piece.

And just as I had come to the realization that we would simply remain ghosts in each other’s lives, there he was.

In our kitchen. bahis siteleri

Making dinner.

I simply took off my heels and sat down to what was an amazingly curated meal of lemon roasted chicken, steamed broccoli & carrots and my favorite red wine. I tasted every delicious bite as though it was our last meal as a couple. The pepper in the chicken and the garlic in the vegetables lingered with every breath I engaged while I could hear his fork fall gently against his plate. These senses were heightened because I couldn’t dare look him in the eye as we quietly filled our house. I knew that if we made eye contact we would know if that missing piece was found.

Or if it ever really existed.

But I couldn’t let this silence go on forever. So I promised myself to take one last sip of wine to help me face my future. Shaking the entire time I slowly sipped my wine until my glass was empty.

And so was his chair.

I watched him slowly walk up the stairs to our bedroom. So I took the hint and followed. All of the upstairs lights were off and it was pitch black. I could hear him walk into our bedroom so I followed, but I added my own twist. By the time I reached our bedroom door, the light from the downstairs kitchen was gone.

And so were my clothes.

I stepped into our bedroom without worrying whether this was going to be our last night as a couple or whether there was even a stupid fucking puzzle. I simply got in my bed naked and found my best friend.

Naked.

His thigh brushed up against mine as it had a thousand times before and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. But before I could decide whether or not I could go through with this, I was given something most unexpected.

Headphones?

A pair of oversized, noise canceling headphones were gently placed on my head while my head rested gently upon my satin covered pillow. I laid motionless with a naked thigh against my thigh and headphones on my head.

“The Asian markets have traded favorably over the last couple of months and US interests have been better for it,” his voice declared. “It should come as no surprise that volatility in bahis şirketleri EU continues to send Americans east.”

The headphones were gently thumping my eardrums with his reading of some random economic news that I knew little about just as his hands gently found themselves caressing my arms. Every word and every stroke got me wet.

I melted as I heard his voice easily transition from economic turmoil in Germany to “an unforgiving workout routine for your triceps”. All the while his hands gently massaged my naked skin from my neck to my calves. He gently squeezed my breasts as I listened to him read the horoscope page.

Fuck!

When his warm tongue circled my nipples I was listening to the baseball scores. By the time he reached the second theater review that tongue of his was dancing on my clit and his hands were firmly holding my breasts. As he sucked the dripping juices from my pussy I began to erupt into a fury of orgasms that made me miss every word flowing into my ears. My thighs squeezed his head as he held onto me for dear life – as though my orgasms were his sustenance. I began to rub my own breast as I felt his right hand slip away to stroke his dick.

Fuck!

“These homes usually don’t attract,” was all I heard before I came against his face like I’d always imagined during our long distance relationship conversations. Sometimes I just got horny while he told me about San Diego weather, so I tried to rub one out before he noticed. I guess he noticed.

I didn’t even care if he was breathing at that moment because I was fucking his face like there was no tomorrow. I could only assume that he was going to survive based on how tightly he was grabbing my breasts and how vigorously he was pumping his own dick.

“With mortgages rates dipping,” I heard as I rotated my pussy around his face and impaled my mouth on his dick just in time to catch a load of cum that I swallowed before he’d known what hit him.

Fuck!

“The paintings in this exhibition,” his voice clearly began to explain as the smell of sweaty balls and sex began to compete for space in my brain. Unfortunately I couldn’t get my body to remove my face from his dick and my pussy from his mouth.

We simply laid there motionless in a puddle of our own filthy love juices as I joyfully listened to that last puzzle piece fall into place before drifting off to sleep.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın