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The Perfect Goodbye

Two hours has passed; I sit, and wait, and pace, wondering if it will still go as planned? Has he changed his mind? He hasn’t. What can be keeping him? My eyes roam the room I prepared, fixating my gaze for a moment on all the kinky stuff I have lying impatiently on the plain white sheet bed. I bet they’re as excited as I am. I bet they can’t wait. I know he will love them. He always has. It’s a wonder he’s still the same. I heard people change overtime. I bet he never will. He always eats his cake and has it. Well, this cake waits patiently to be eaten. Over again as all the time before.

Here he comes!

How can you actually come? I ask silently as I watch him take long strides across the lawn and into the building. Same gait, same strides! After everything you did. How stupid, how very stupid!

He plants an half open-mouthed kiss on my lips and I smile into his cold mouth. He likes iced water.

“How are you?” he asks, burying his lips in my neck, sensations travel down my spine.

“I missed you… I missed this,” I coo. Truly, I did. But he is only the lover I lost. No, the lover that threw me away in the most heart-breaking manner.

“Touching you still feels like magic,” he whispers, trailing kisses along my nape and slamming the door close with a foot.

You still have your way with words, I respond inwardly, letting him gain control over my body.

“I’ve been thinking about you, I couldn’t move on. I waited for you. Thank you for reaching out to me,” he whispers, kissing my jawline.

Lies! Lies! Lies! I scream in my head. Thinking about me? You dumped me in the most despicable manner, made me the talk of the town—the abandoned bride. You made me a gist topic, made my supposed memorable day a tearful one. Who dates for six years only to break up over text on his own wedding day? How dare you! You dumped me for no particular reason. Couldn’t move on? You’ve been flooding social media with your pictures, showing off how great your life’s been after completely ruining mine. How dare you!

In spite of the rage in my head, I simply smile and say, “Me too,” responding to his every touch. “Thanks for coming,” I add, turning and laying him flat on the bed. “You’ve been a very bad boy and mummy is going to punish you. Spread your hands!” I command, cuffing his hands and legs to the edges of the bed. I have it all planned out.

“You still turn me on like crazy,” I whisper into his left ear, biting his ear lobe slightly, not forgetting to drop wet kisses his neck and collar bone.

He shudders. You’re exactly where I want you to be, I say to myself and smile.

His expectant eyes follow me as I slowly catwalk away, stopping a few feet away from the foot of the bed. If he could, he would have come to me, but he has to painstakingly watch me as I slowly undress, not taking my eyes off him. I watch him swallow the lump in his throat. It is really hard not to salivate. I feel him burn under my gaze. I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Do you like what you see?” I ask him, torturing him. I have slimmed down, but I still have my shape intact. He swallows and nods, his eyes not leaving me for a second. I let my hips sway as I walk towards him. The soft foam acknowledges the weight of my knee as I crawl towards him. Taking my time to trail wet kisses on every inch his body, I feel his body get tense at the first kiss.

“Raise your head!” His eyes pop in confusion, his mouth mutters the word “baby”.

“I’m putting a blindfold over your eyes, close them,” I order, marveling at how big his gut is. He can even call me “baby”. He can, he shall. It would be his last.

With his eyes shut, his senses are heightened. I allow myself to be the sex goddess of the year. Memories flood my mind, I let them out with every whip. I never meant to fall too deep; he promised never to hurt me, I gave him everything I could. I forgave him every time he wronged me and gave him another chance. I trusted him. I was there for him. And all he could do was discard me like a broken vase. Then years later he had the guts to say “I’m sorry”? He said all it took was one bold move to change everything. All it would take was me loving him to forgive and forget. That was the path I am on—loving him to forgive and forget. I am getting my breakthrough, this is my breakthrough.

Without letting my voice get quaky, I repeat the words: “You’ve been a very bad boy, mummy is going to punish you.”

I snap the whip on his sides, forcefully landing it on very sensitive parts of his skin. He wriggles from the effect, moaning from pain and pleasure.

This shit is perfect, this right here is the perfect goodbye, I tell myself.

“How do you feel?” I ask him, my voice husky. I am trailing my tongue from his abdomen up his hard nipple. I stop abruptly just below it and blow air on it instead.

“Please don’t do that, please just do it.” He wriggles beneath me, his voice shaky.

“Shut your mouth! Don’t tell me what to do,” I order, taking his mouth in mine, and sucking angrily; he is responding with hunger. Without his restraint, he’d be pinning me down by now. Heightening his already raving desire, I slightly rub his nipple, pinching intermittently. He moans into my mouth.

I return to leaving wet trails down his abdomen and up his nipples, drawing circles around them, feeling him tense up and push his chest out. I keep drawing circles around his nipple and leaving wet trails down his sides, torturing him a bit more before finally covering it with my mouth, sucking and nibbling gently, then hard, while fondling the other with my fingers.

His moans drown the quiet song playing from the little speakers just above our heads. I become satisfied by the response I am getting, I decide to trail down his abdomen and even lower, liberating all of him from the hold of his pants. He gets hard! I hold him in my hands and pause, watching him, letting him wonder what I was up to.

He flinches. He still has beautiful lips. In a swoop, I have his tip in my mouth. A thousand sensations are coursing through his body, he lets out gasps of pleasures and I smile.

I taste his saltiness. I work my way up and down his length. I do not need a lubricant, my mouth is enough. His eyes are shut and his mouth is wide open; all he can do is feel and I am making sure that is what he does. I am giving him what he truly wants—me!

I gobble him down my throat, pulling out to tease his tip with my tongue. He urges me on. I work my warm mouth on him fast and fast and faster, until I can feel him close, so close. Then I stop!

“Fuck!” I hear him say.

I laugh, I will not give him that comfort, not yet.

I pull his pants away totally so that we are both left in our birth suits. Seductively, I proceed to sit on him—him in me. For balance, I place my hands on his hairy chest and ride him to where the stars align, a place we can only go and return together. My mind is set on riding him to the clouds, and I do not forget to carry his nipples along on this graceful journey. I ride him in crazy patterns.

We are not competing on who could moan louder but somehow our moans merge, making the music that spices up our journey. Gracefully, we mount the summit together.

I come down from him, panting. “Fuck, that was good!” we both say, laughing.

“You’re crazy as fuck,” he says, laughing.

“Yes, I am,” I laugh into his mouth as I kiss him. He can feel the cold against his skin.

“What’s that?” he asks, an amusing and confused look on his face.

“It’s a cold metal that can hurt you if you move too fast,” I say with a smirk on my face. “You just need to relax. It won’t hurt,” I promise, laughing.

I can feel cold shivers run down his spine. His body is covered in goosebumps. “What are you doing?” he asks in fear.

“Well, let’s say I’m doing what you asked me—forgiving and forgetting you. Allow me take your breath away baby,” I say, trailing his face with the cold edge of the knife, down his neck and side. He shudders out of fear and confusion.

His lips mumble words I can’t completely make out, but I pay no attention to. I just want to lose my mind; I want to complete the journey of forever he started at the altar; I want to dish him all the pain he has caused me, so he can taste them in a hundred flavours; I want to show him my imperfections. He promised to love me flaws and all. I have to fix our broken hearts this way so we can heal and finally move on.

I continue my trailing down his sides with the edge of the knife going deeper into his skin as it went down. I smile when I left a trail of blood instead of the wet kisses that was there a minute ago. It is funny how his moans suddenly turn into cries of plea.

“Please don’t kill me, I’m very sorry for everything,” he whimpers.

“I’m really sorry too, honey. But it’s too late, the Grim Reaper is here for your soul,” I reply him, making a face.

With all my strength, I plunge the knife into his side, burying it deep into his skin. He yelps in agony. I pull the knife out, his blood spurts onto the wall and the plain white bedsheet.

“What a beautiful sight it makes!” I yelp in awe.

“Oops! This silly metal must have gone too deep. I’m so sorry, does it hurt?” I ask, cupping his face with my bloody hands. He does not stop screaming.

“Does it hurt?” I ask again. He does not answer, as he continues screaming instead. The blindfold is soaked with his tears.

I am getting angry. “Does it hurt you?” I ask again, my voice louder than before. He writhes on the bed shouting and making a mess the pattern I thought was beautiful.
“Why are you ignoring me?” I ask, picking the knife, I plunge it back into the spot it had left, as deep as it could go and twist. I ask the question again as I twist.

“Fuck! Yes! Please stop!” he yells crying and calling for help.

I am now very angry. “Are you insane? I don’t understand, am I a joke to you? I asked you a question, you ignored me. Why are you ignoring me? And now, I’m playing with you, you’re shouting. Why are you shouting?”

He keeps on screaming for help and struggling to get out of his cuffs, getting me really angry.

“You really are a bad boy and mummy is going to punish you,” I say, pointing my index finger to his face.
I pick the knife again, my hands clutching it tight and raised it very high.

“Don’t be stupid!” I say, plunging it into his chest. As I am pulling it out, his blood spurts on my face, it only gets me angrier. I do not want to taste his blood, I want him to taste his blood.

How could he spurt his blood into my face and mouth? I ask myself angrily.

“Silly boy! Silly boy! Silly boy!” I say, plunging the knife right into his chest continuously with all of my strength. I pause to catch my breath but notice that he has gone numb, no muffled cries, no scuffles, no struggles, nothing!

“I had no idea, I was enjoying the way the knife went in and out, it got easier as I continued. I promised not to hurt you. Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you? I’m very sorry. Please give me a second chance in your second life, I’m really very sorry. I forgive you. Rest well and watch over me from heaven. I love you!” I say into his ears after kissing his open lips.

I gather him in my arms and rock him against my bosom; I sing him a lullaby so he can sleep well.

“Goodnight, baby, this is the perfect goodbye,” I hear myself say as I drift off to sleep.

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