Remembering Him

James remembers the one that got away. 953 words.

I wish I could say that I don’t miss him still, but I really do. I can smell him on my sheets at night, even though it’s been months since he slept in my bed. They’ve been washed a number of times, I keep hoping each time I throw them in the machine his scent will finally be gone. But so far I have had no luck. 

My mind plays the events of that night over again like a movie I can’t seem to shut off. He had come home from another long day at the office. His musky scent filled the room and all I wanted to do was ravish him like an animal in heat. But he had other things to do. He always seemed to bring his work home with him on the weekends. He kissed me lightly on the cheek as he mumbled about having to finish a project, and he disappeared into the office.

It was late and he hadn’t yet come to bed. When I stepped into the office his head was on the desk. He had fallen asleep. I touched his shoulder lightly and he stirred awake.

“Please come to bed, the work will be there in the morning.” 

He groggily made his way to the bedroom and sat at the edge of the bed. I kneeled down on the floor in front of him and began to undress him. He gently touched my face, neck, shoulders and chest as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his slightly toned torso. I kissed his neck and he moaned ever so quietly. My tongue slowly found its way down to his pecks and I took my time gently nibbling at his perky nipples. He ran his hands through my hair and continued to moan quietly just to let me know he was enjoying my touch. My mouth kept kissing its way down his upper body and stopped just at his belly button. He laid back on the bed and I continued to allow my tongue to explore.

As I unbuttoned his pants I could feel his hard dick against my hands. I pulled his pants and underwear off in one quick motion and wrapped my lips around him, making him arch his back in pleasure. I kissed, sucked and fondled his dick and balls until he was just at the edge of cumming. I stood up, removed my underwear and laid down on his naked body, rubbing my own hard dick against his. He kissed me deeply and grabbed my ass pulling me closer to him. He looked into my eyes with longing and desire, reached for the drawer and prepared to enter me. It took my by surprise. I was usually the top. But I was so into this moment, I decided it was time I let him top me for once.

He rolled me over and brought my legs up to his chest. Gently and with thoughtfulness not to hurt me, he pushed his way into my ass. Slight bits of pain shot through me but not enough to want him to stop. He slid his dick in and out of me before finally thrusting all the way in, hitting me in all the right spots.

I moaned and writhed in ecstasy and exploded all over my own chest without even touching my dick. He kissed me passionately and shot his own load into the condom in my ass. He then collapsed onto me and said, “I love you” as he drifted into a deep sleep.

We awoke in each other’s arms in the morning. I had an ear-to-ear grin that just would not go away. He smiled, kissed me on the forehead and stepped out of bed. I heard the shower go on and I decided to join him. My morning hard-on was still throbbing as I stepped into the hot water. I stood behind him, kissing his neck and shoulders, rubbing my hard cock against his wet ass. He reached behind him and grabbed on to me, pulling me closer to him. We stood there with the hot water streaming down our bodies for what seemed to be forever. 

“Are you hungry?” I asked as we stepped out of the shower.

“Famished.” He replied.

He broke the news to me during breakfast. He was being relocated. Out of the country. My heart sank into my toes. There was no way I could join him. We weren’t even supposed to be together in the first place. No one in his office knew he was gay, let alone in a relationship.

As he continued to explain why he was unable to bring me along and why he needed to go, I grew more upset. Angry. Disappointed. It became increasingly clear that his priorities were to his job, not to me. And realizing this made things even harder to come to terms with.

That night I let him make love to me one last time. The passion was not nearly as intense, and it was actually a lot more of going through the motions. I pushed away tears as I watched him drift off to sleep. I am not sure even when I finally fell asleep, but I was sleeping when he left.

I woke up the next morning and he was gone. A note on the pillow next to me said “I’m sorry.”

The nights are the worst time. But every one that passes seems to go by easier and easier. I don't think I will ever be able to forget him. The best I can hope for is for the nights to grow shorter and time to heal the still open wounds.