Long legs, high and tight ass, long blonde hair, the most kissable lips, little turned up nose, and those eyes, those sapphire eyes… they were hypnotic… mesmerizing… I could stare into them for hours.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. I was waiting in the checkout line at the 7/11 with a case of beer and five bags of chips for a frat party. I turned around to find her standing behind me, her big tits in a tight t-shirt, her long tanned legs sticking out of a pair of cut-off jeans. She was barefoot, no makeup, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. And she was buying tampons, of all things. I pretended I didn’t see the light blue box, but I envied those tampons for where they were destined to go.
I struck up a conversation about the weather or some random shit just to talk to her. I smiled. She smiled. Our eyes met. We shook hands. Sparks fucking flew. And that was it. I pretty much knew I’d be fucking her by the next day. And I was. Because I had no choice. If I didn’t fuck her, I’d just die.
I turned on the charm and went full-court press on her ass. At first, it was just a game to me, as all women were. I would woo her with my ways, wear down her resistance, fuck the shit out of her and move on, like I always did.
Then, the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to be with her, and only her. She drove me fucking wild, man. A typical woman would get jealous as fuck if their man was flirting or getting hit on by other women. Not Zoe. She was not the jealous type. In fact, many times she’d joke about going home with other dudes, or bringing another man into the bedroom with us. I was like WHAT??? No fucking way! Homey don’t play that shit!
She was doing it just to fuck with me, but sometimes I thought she was serious. Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn’t. I just didn’t want to find out. I’d go fucking crazy just to think of another man fucking my Zoe.
So, I calmed down with the macho-male bullshit and made sure she knew I just wanted her. And things went great for a while, then slowly started to go to shit. She said I was too controlling (which I was), too demanding (guilty), too much of an asshole (uh yeah), and that I didn’t appreciate her. That one hurt because it wasn’t true. Granted, I had a hard time showing my feelings (I’m a guy, duh), but I appreciated the fuck out of her. Hell, I probably even loved her.
Then one day she just breezes in and tells me she’s moving to fucking New York after graduation to work in some publishing house as a copy editor. I was like, why the fuck do you want to do that?
She just shook her head and walked out the door. That was seven years ago. We talked a few times over the phone after she moved away, but finally I just let it go. Was I pissed? You bet your ass I was pissed. She just up and left, ripped my fucking heart out like it was a fucking Band-Aid on a scraped knee. The sad part about our time together and her leaving was the residual effect it had on my love life. Call it carrying a torch or whatever, but I haven’t been able to feel complete with another woman since Zoe walked out of my life. I keep finding myself comparing them to her. And no woman has ever come close to curling my toes—or breaking my heart—like Zoe Maxwell.
* * *
“Oh, Chad …” Bree’s moans jarred me back to reality. “I’m cumming…god… your cock... cum with me… cum…”
“Cum for me, baby,” I said, digging my fingers into her hips and arching my back to fuck her deeper and harder, as if I could push the memory of Zoe out of my body by shooting a hot load inside Bree. But it seemed the harder I fucked Bree, the more I thought about Zoe. It was a never-ending battle between my heart and my mind and my cock. It was a painful battle.
It was a pain that I wanted to heal, but wanted to keep as a reminder of a time in my life when everything felt simply perfect.
It was a time I never wanted to forget, couldn’t if I tried.
Maybe I was afraid that someday I’d wake up and no longer think of Zoe. I didn’t want that day to ever come. Even though she had moved on and was living her life without so much as a thought of me, I was not ready to let go of what we had, even after all these years.
The pain was all I had left of Zoe.
I would never let it go.
Never.
I’d never tell a soul because it was a very unmacho thing to say, but I missed Zoe every fucking day and every fucking night, even after all these years. Zoe Maxwell was mine for just a short time and I let her slip away. Fuck, who am I kidding… I pushed her way. She left because I was a controlling asshole with too much pride to swallow. If I had it to do over again, I would have dropped to my knees and begged her to say.
Right then, at that moment, with Bree moaning and groaning on top of me, I would have given anything to go back to that time with Zoe.
Even if it was just for an hour, just to feel the old feelings again. Maybe I just needed to say goodbye to her once and for all; have one last conversation that would help me close the Zoe chapter of my life.
Maybe then my heart wouldn’t feel so numb.
Maybe that was exactly what I needed to forget Zoe Maxwell once and for all.
I curled my toes and filled Bree with the hot load that erupted from my cock and balls with the force of a firehose. I closed my eyes tight and tried not to scream Zoe’s name.
* * *
I rolled Bree off my cock and rolled myself off the bed, going into the bathroom without saying a word. I took a good long piss, then washed off my cock with a warm rag at the sink, then went back to the bedroom door and tossed the towel at Bree.
“What the fuck Chad!” Bree said with a disgusted look on her face. She plucked the rag out of the air and shoved it to her cooch to stop the flow of my cum and her juices. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“I have something I forgot to do,” I said, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder toward the shower behind me. “Gotta grab a quick shower and run. Let yourself out. I’ll call you later.”
“Seriously?” Her mouth hung open and her eyes went wide. Her big tits bounced on her chest. “You just remembered right now in the middle of having sex with me that you had something you forgot to do?”
“I know, my brain turns to mush when you’re around, baby. Okay. Later.” I closed and locked the bathroom door, ignoring her protests that she needed to pee and shower, too.