We shall see little of her in these pages, but if you must know...Mary is a cute and short brunette, all in soft curves, with nicely shaped if not large breasts, and wide hips underlined by a well rounded bottom. She is my girlfriend. Well...ex-girlfriend. We had a nice story, albeit too short and with a somewhat abrupt end. On this note, I wish not to bore you, so enjoy the read!
I woke up once more, sweet Mary sleeping face down, my arm around her. We had dozed off in an embrace after she had offered me this amazing treat. I was suddenly taken over by grief when thinking of what must then happen, shaken by the inevitability of the looming end. I marvelled one last time at her beauty, watching her smile in her contented slumber. I kissed her softly, my fingers gently tracing the light but visible marks left on her back the previous night by my nails and teeth. My own back must too have been adorned with such stripes. I smiled thinking of our wild ride. I would not soon forget this night where nothing had interrupted our quest for pleasure. These thoughts stirred my desire once more, despite all the action of the last few hours. I left my lover's lips and covered her cute face with light kisses, exploring her little rounded nose, her closed eyelids, her rosy cheeks, starting a very slow journey, kissing her ears, then her neck, her shoulders, her arms. I lingered on the warm, soft palms of her hands before moving to her back, long resting my head in the pronounced arch.
Taking up the journey again, I accompanied my kisses with the lightest touch, and caresses more and more sensual moving inexorably closer to her sensitive areas. I was nibbling at her round bottom and brushing against her inner thighs, dangerously nearing her core, when I felt a slight tremor, sign that Mary had just left the world of dreams to join me in her bed. She did not let it show however, probably preferring to enjoy and let me take the lead. When my fingers reached her slit, I found out just how much effect my kisses and caresses had had. I dared slip the tip of a finger inside her. Trembling. My finger pushed further, while another neared her button, already out of its cap. Sigh. A second finger joined the first, and my attentions grew more precise, bolder. My other hand took over from my mouth to caress the two beautiful half spheres I had still been nibbling on. My tongue dipped instead slowly into the valley, until it grazed against the tight, wrinkled hole. Moan. On the front, my fingers were more and more active, now three probing Mary's boiling core, and my thumb rubbing the erect bud. On the back, I was now frankly eating the forbidden fruit, my tongue teasing her, sometimes leaving place to an adventurous finger that went in to the first, then to the second knuckle. My sweetheart was now breathing heavily, but remained still. It's strange how sometimes the little things make all the difference: thus stimulated from all sides, it's when my teeth bit into her right cheek that Mary flew off, shaking, silent in her climax.
We made love again. It had nothing to do with the previous night anymore. Never had I known such tenderness, such calm. Our embrace was slow, soft, and from beginning to end, our gazes stayed locked into one another. We knew it was the last time.
* * * * *
Still lost in thoughts, I looked without seeing them at the two long legs and the checkered-skirt-with-nothing-underneath move away. Already 24 hours had passed since I had left a teary-eyed Marie. One last kiss where our lips had joined firmly, longingly, as if to carve in us the memory of the texture, taste, shape of the other's mouth. We were yet prepared. We knew our story was to end abruptly: Mary had just graduated in forest management. Jobs in that domain being obviously rare in the city, as are those for a musician in the countryside. Neither of us thought a long-term long-distance relationship could work. I was leaving for Europe for the summer. When I should return, Mary would already have left for Alaska, where she had found the job of her dreams. We were thus splitting despite ourselves, but conscious that life had simply decided otherwise, and conscious as well that both of us were about to live incredible, life-defining moments.
I had therefore left and met the others at the airport. Oh! I forgot! The purpose of my travels was this: a tour of Europe with a young-professional training orchestra, of which I was the timpanist, followed by a composition workshop in Rome. Between those, I had two weeks to travel at my will, and I planned to take the opportunity to visit a few major libraries, archives and other monastery crypts to further my musicological research.
