I know this isn’t What Solo is for, but I need to pour my heart out. Stevie and I are over. Done. I told her I wasn’t taking the job, and she went absolutely fucking nuclear. She just exploded, told me that she was done with me, packed her bags and left. BUT I noticed she was sobbing her heart out. At 1:00am this morning, she phoned. She told me that this job offer was too good,to turn down and she knew it. She said that had I done so, itmwould have always been something between us. “A cancer that can only grow.” Even as she said the words, I knew she was right, and an enormous weight fell from my shoulders. I guess that’s why there has been a chill between us since it came up. Im grieving. Grieving for losing her, but she also has a career here. One she’s good at, and one she has wanted since she was 10. She’s worked hard and I guess this is the parting of the ways.
I’ve got four days off now, over Christmas, and no way could I sleep. I got up and reached for the Vodka intending to get paralytically drunk.
Feelings? Oh, you have no idea! Like a fucking pendulum! Excitement, crushing sadness, anger, but not regret.
I paced, drank, but couldn’t get drunk. Well, not as drunk as I wanted to get.
But, against all the odds, I was getting incredibly aroused. I’m a mean drunk...a very mean drunk...that’s why I don’t do it very often.
I flopped down in a chair and just let the feeling wash over me. Reaching up my dress, as expected, a pair of very wet panties presented themselves. (Why is one garment called a pair? I’ve never gotten that). Somehow, I managed to stagger to my feet, and, shucking the dress on the way, tottered into the bedroom.
The bed still smells of Stevie. Her hair....and was it my wishful thinking....her cunt too? A series of images flashed through my head...things we had done on that bed, and in the shower, and outside on the lawn. (Too fucking cold for outside tonight). Stevie masturbating. Stevie with me sucking her cunt with a finger in her ass. Stevie role playing the innocent virgin schoolgirl being seduced by her teacher. Stevie being a dominatrix, tying me down, dripping hot candle wax on my nipples, making me squirm. Stevie peeing all over me....me peeing on her.
By now, my hand was jammed in my sodden panties and I was masturbating furiously. All the time, I was yelling. (What the neighbors must have thought...) “Stevie, you fucking bitch....,you CUNT”. With every expletive, I felt something immense building.
My legs were spread wide, my breasts pushed up, my bra underneath them, and I was twisting my nipple hard enough to draw tears (or were they tears of grief).
I remember the orgasm starting....I don’t remember it finishing. My world just....exploded.
When I came too, I was drenched with sweat, and yes, I had wet myself too. Part of me...the part that was still capable of rational thought knew I wanted to be as dirty as possible...anyway, I enjoy it, so fuck it.
Was it coincidence that I had lain on Stevie’s side of the bed? Was it coincidence that I had (and I don’t remember doing this either) used her vibrator, always kept under her pillow? It was still inside me when I came round. She had left it....a final severing of the ties? I had bought her that when we first got together. The last cunt it was inside was hers, now it lay, trapped by my panties, inside me.
My throat hurt. Possibly from the shouting, but maybe from the rising vomit that I had to go take care of.
After I'd cleaned my teeth and showered, I felt better. Well, somewhat better.
Nursing the mother of all hangovers, I made myself the first of what will be many strong black coffees today, and thought things through again.
Of course, it’s the right decision. She knew that, and deep down, so do I. Maybe I saw a permanence in my relationship with her that was just never there. Maybe this was always going to happen.
I would always regret not going for this job.
And a part of me would always have blamed her for it.
I decided to make the phone call before I changed my mind (again). The director of the practice I’m going to said she was glad I’d changed my mind, and yes, the post is mine. So, notice in, and at the end of January, early February, I’ll be moving.
Strangely, as I sit here writing this, I have an almost overwhelming desire to get laid. Comfortable though I am with girls, right now, right this precise second, I need to be pinned down on a bed and fucked to within an inch of my life.
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