The Last Time.

Had I known it was the last time would it have been different? Looking back almost a fortnight later there were clues I chose to ignore.  The way he looked at me with soft and gentle eyes all the while whispering the words that made me moan.  He has this way about him that is both in and out of complete control.

There had been a list of things he’d wanted to do with me before he left.  He’d sent a text the day before telling me he wanted to fuck my arsehole.  That is something that will only ever happen with a certain type of man.  He was that type of man, for certain.

He stripped me naked telling me I had never looked more beautiful.  When he speaks I listen.  The man sees me.  He pushed his cock inside with the gentleness of a man who knows exactly what this means to both of us.  He put his hand over my mouth when I started to moan and meet his thrusts.

Afterward he cradled me.  It is the nature of the giving.  I gave my body my mind my self.  Take me.  We talked a while before he had to go.  We had almost a week before he had to leave the country so I thought there would be one more kiss one more experience.  The list is incomplete.

I walked him to the door and watched him leave.  He turned around and looked at me.  He never did that.  I should have known.  Had I known would I have wanted it to end any differently? One week down – 51 more to go.