Summertime Sadness

"I'm going to miss you so much, Teresa," you say at last, long afterwards, after our hearts have slowed, our breathing has returned to normal, after you've pulled that second blanket over us because it's well after midnight now and the night air is cooling. Your voice is sad. Quiet, soft, the way it is when you're sunk in thought after we've made love, as we've made love so often over this summer. As we've just made love now. I rest my head against your shoulder, your arm under me, holding me. Your other hand reaches for me, brushes my cheek; brushes away the wetness of my tears.

"I have to go," I say, my own voice as quiet, almost a whisper. College. I've been accepted into the program I'd worked so hard all my last year at High School to get into. It's the College I want to go to. My dream. My cousin's there. Trinh is in her second year. She has an apartment and I'm moving in with her. Dad has everything packed in the truck. We're doing a road trip, we're leaving in the morning and lying here with Grant under the stars, I don't want the morning to come.

Two days to drive there, then Dad'll get me settled in and he'll stay for a few days before he turns around and drives back home. But now I don't want to go. I want to stay here, where you are. I can't bear to leave you but I know I have to. I know I have to go and the tears flood from my eyes once more.

"Don't cry, Teresa. Don't cry." You hold me, you kiss my forehead, brush the hair from my face, my long silky black hair that you love so much. You lips brush my cheeks, brush the tears away and then you're kissing me. Kissing the tears away, kissing my sadness away. Kissing me hard, crushing my lips under yours, holding me tight, as if your arms could hold me here with you forever, as if your kisses could drive away the tears

I only wish they could.

But tonight is all we have left. One last night.

You told your wife you're camping tonight with a buddy, an overnight hunting trip and you'll be back early in the morning. My friends are having that farewell party back down the side of the lake, the party that I walked away from to meet you here. The party's for a few of us that are leaving town, heading off for College, all over the country. Fledglings leaving the nest, all of us. Everyone else, all my friends, they're celebrating and having a great time.

Me? I'm sad.

The party? It's a sleepover, my parents aren't expecting me back until the morning. Neither you nor I are where we should be. There's no buddy for you, your truck is parked under the trees back by the road. I went to the party for half an hour, showed my face, walked away from my friends. Walked along the lakeshore to meet you here where you waited for me. Where you've waited for me before.

It's almost midnight now, the party's still going strong. We've talked about us before, about your wife, your children. We've talked about us all summer. Ever since this started. I know you love them, I know you can't leave them and I don't want you to. I know you love me too, just as I love you. Perhaps it's a crush for me, I know that's what it started out as. Perhaps it's a mid-life crisis for you. But it feels like love to both of us now, and if this is love, it hurts so much, because I can't bear to leave you, I can't bear to lose you.

Even though you're not mine to lose.

You hold me in your arms. You brush my hair back, you kiss my eyes, my cheeks, my nose, you do your best to comfort me without words, to take away the pain for both of us and both of us know there's no choice. You're staying here where your wife and your children and your business is. I'm going to College and I have to go and we've known this moment is coming ever since we began this, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. We're not talking about any of that now.

Now we lie together, you hold me in your arms as my eyes look at your face. I'm glowing in the aftermath of our love-making, but I don't want to sleep. Not yet. If I sleep I'll lose precious time with you and all that's left for us are a few hours together. Three, four months ago, this moment seemed so far away and now it's here and the reality is worse than I'd ever feared. I love you so much and I know you love me and I'm leaving and when I leave in the morning, we'll never be together again.

"What're you thinking?" you ask, one finger tracing my jawline, brushing my hair back from my face.

"I'll miss you," I say, honestly. "And I'm trying to memorize your face, every detail of your face."

The pores, the bristles, the wrinkles, the way your lips quirk into a smile at my words and I smile back and then you're kissing me again, kissing me gently, slowly, folding me closer to you so that my breasts press against you chest, skin against skin and I reach down but you're not hard. I hold you anyhow, there's comfort and reassurance in having your cock in my hand, even if it is wet and sticky from what we've just done together.

You kiss me again. "Swim," you say.

"Sure."I want to wash the sweat from my body, wash myself where you finished inside. You help me to my feet, wait as I tie my hair up, hold my hand as we walk towards the water. Your cum trickles from me, trickles down my inner thighs but in the darkness and on the beach, I don't care. We wade out into the water together, wade out until we're up to my breasts in the water and then you wash me with your hands. Wash me everywhere, tenderly, gently, the water cook on my heated skin.

After I've washed you, we walk back up onto the beach, the music background to our thoughts as we dance again in the dark, naked now, in each other's arms, alone on the beach under the moonlight and the starlight. Flames from the bonfire flicker in the distance, the music is distant, faint now because it's late and someone was sober enough to wind the volume down a bit.

I smile up at you as we return to the blankets and after we sit. I lean back against you, my head against your shoulder, your arms around me and now I feel your renewed excitement. Your need for me. I rest my hands on yours, lift them from my waist to my breasts. Hold them there, knowing this night is our last and then in a sudden rush, I turn, kneel, push you down on your back and kneel over you, taking you in my mouth and sucking and licking you until you're rock hard again.

Hard and eager as I suck and lick your cock, as I caress your balls, lick them, rub you across my face and then at last I move up, straddle you and you're more than ready for me. Your fingers touch me, tease me open, explore my slick wetness, butterfly across and around my clitoris.

"Ohhh," I sob, when you do that, "oohhhhh," and I have to brace myself with my hands on your chest, my hair falling in a silky veil around us and just like that, your fingers bring me to my climax and I'm squealing as those sensations ripple and wash through me and you're smiling up at me, watching my face.

"Ohhh ... ohhhh .... Grant .... Grant ..." I look down at you, helpless under your fingers and I can't wait, I want you inside me again and I reach for you with one hand, hold you upright as I lower myself onto you and my cunt is still dancing in the aftermath of that climax as I open easily to you.

"Uuughhhh." Your cockhead slips into me and I'm shivering as I ease myself down on you and I love our hardness and your size as you fill me inside.

"Teresa," you groan, looking up at me as I press myself down on you, all of you inside me. "Teresa, you're so fucking tight" and you're moving inside me, thrusting up at me from below and I want to ride you but I can't do anything. I'm helpless as I sit on you. All I can do is straddle you and balance myself as take what you give me, riding you, except I'm not. I'm just trying to stay where I am, seated on you as you move under me, as you fuck me and your cock's moving in my wetness.

"Teresa," you groan. "I love you ... I love you..." and your body slaps against mine. Your hands grasp my hips, you pull me down onto you, your cock impossibly deep inside me and I'm making those wet wet sounds as you pull me down towards you and roll me onto my back beneath you without leaving me.

You're no longer asking, you're taking from me and whatever I have is yours to take. Your hands take mine, pin them above my head, your cock slams and pounds and jackhammers into me and there's those wet wet sounds from my cunt, that steady slap slap slap as your body meets mine, as you take your pleasure with me, on and on and on.

"Fuck me," I wail, my back arching, wide open for you, your cock driving into me. "Fuck me hard ... fuck me hard."

You are already, but you go for harder still and I know I'll have bruises in the morning but I don't care. I want it. I want what you're doing to me and I love it when you lose all control like this and just fuck me as if there's no tomorrow. Fuck me exactly how you want to fuck me and it's so hard now that every thrust drives the air from my lungs and I'm gasping and moaning and my pleasure is building and building and our grunting and smiling because you know exactly what you're doing to me and you do it and do it and do it, on and on,

I can't not and you know that. You know what's happening to me, you know so well after doing this to me for five months and you smile, you kiss me, you move one hand between us and you squeeze my nipple hard as you pound your cock into me and it's enough to send me over the edge, crying out as my cunt pulses around your cock. Sobbing as those wild pulses build and wash through me to a crescendo and you choose that moment to lose your own control.

"Teresa," you groan, "Teresa..." You judder against me, suddenly holding yourself deep inside me and I buck beneath you as your cock throbs, spurts, ejaculating your cum into me in a great pulsing flood that fills me inside and how I wish I could have your babies. How I wish I could lie here with you night after night while you do his best to impregnate me and the sudden thought has me climaxing again beneath you as you slowly subside.

I hold you in my arms, cradle you with my body, your weight heavy on me as my hands rest on your back and with you still on me, still inside me, my eyes begin to close. I'm tired now, tired and exhausted and when at last you ease out of me, ease yourself of me I don't move. Your arms hold me, you kiss me, neither of us speaks. What else can we say that hasn't been said before.

This is the last night of our summer and tomorrow I'm gone. When next we see each other, we'll both have changed. We'll be older, I'll have made new friends. You'll still be married but I'll have dated other guys, I know that, even though I love you in this moment in time, in this moment of now. Even though the sadness of our parting grips me.

You raise you head, you smile, you kiss me but I see the sadness in your eyes. Summertime sadness. I know it won't last but I feel it, I share it. Your hand brushes my hair back from my forehead, your nose brushes mine. You kiss me again and my eyes close, I nestle into your arms as you pull the blanket around us closer. Your arms cradle me and I sleep at last,

It's the birdsong that wakes me. It's not yet dawn, but the sky is lightening. I can make out your face, turned towards me as you sleep. Your warmth, your presence next to me under the blanket, it's comforting me and warming me as I rest, one of your arms beneath me and I wish it could be like this always and forever.

I move a little and my movement wakens you, your eyes flicker open, you see me. You smile and almost instantly your kissing me. Kissing me hard, kissing me desperately, your body naked and hard against mine. Your hard, your aroused and as soon as I feel your cock hot and hard against my stomach, my own excitement is awakened instantly and I'm making soft eager noises as you kiss me, as your fingers find my wetly ready cunt and probe inside me.

I haven't washed since last night but neither of us care as you finger me, as I find your cock with my hand, already hard. My fingers stroke you, hard and fast because I want you now, right away and you move. You push me back and you move over me, move between my legs as I spread them eagerly for you and the blanket falls from us, we're naked in the cool morning air and you find me.

"Fuck me," I moan, because that's what I want you to do. "Fuck me."

You do, the steely hardness of your cock finds me, pushes through my entrance, thrusts up inside me, hard, a thick throbbing invasion that drives you to the hilt inside me.

"Harder," I moan, helpless beneath you. "Fuck me harder..." and you are, your cock driving so hard and deep it hurts and the hurt is good, it matches the sadness of knowing this is the last time and I'm climaxed beneath you, my cunt squeezing you, spasming on you and my cries aren't muffled at all, not out here by the lake and you make no effort to reduce the noises I'm making as your cock pump-fucks me and then your cumming hard, spurting your semen into me, shuddering against me and I know you've fucked me for the last time.

Silent, we lie together, your head on my shoulder, my body cradling yours, remaining inside me until at last you slip out of me and I whimper with disappointment and sadness. At last you raise your head, you look down at me, you kiss me and there's no smile. There's only sadness as you ease yourself from me.

"Wash?" you ask, taking my hand, but I shake my head. I do watch as you walk into the lake, slipping into the water, swimming. I'd swim with you but I want to feel what you gave me inside me for as long as possible. I want to smell you on my skin to the last possible moment. Your sweat, your culmination, I want to treasure everything about you for every moment we have left and so I sit there, naked, wrapped in the blanket, watching you.

You dress me. I know you love dressing me, working my panties up my legs, kissing me everywhere as you ease my clothes on. My panties, my bra, my red dress, zipping the back, fastening it and we can't postpone this any longer. You pick up the blankets, carry them in one hand, your other hand taking mine and we walk back together towards your truck as the sun begins to rise, glowing gold climbing into an azure sky. The sun's rays warm us as we walk hand in hand, neither of us willing to let go.

"Kiss me hard before you go," I whisper at last, as we stand by your truck, as you hold me in your arms. You do. A long kiss, on and on, a sharing of souls for we both know this is the last time. The last kiss. The last breathe we will share. The last time you'll hold me in your arms like this. The last time you'll hold me with tears in your eyes and tell me that you love me.

"I love you, Grant," I tell you, crying into your shoulder. "I love you, I love you." And I do and I wish, how I wish that we could climb into your truck and just drive away together. Just you and me, forever.

"Teresa ... Teresa ... I love you." Your words mingle with mine, our voices overlay each other, both of us saying the same words as you hold me, as one of your hands strokes my head, runs through my hair. My long black hair that falls to my waist because I know you like it so much and I've left it loose for you this morning the way I've left it loose for you on every morning we've had together and there's been too few of them. Far too few and it's so unfair that I've found your love and now I'm losing you.

"I have to go," I say at last, sniffling into your shirt. I wish I didn't.

I wish this was like two weeks ago when your wife was away at her parents taking care of her Dad while her Mom was in hospital overnight and I stayed over with you. Where I woke up in your bed early that morning, you were lying there watching me and smiling. My eyes had opened and as soon as you saw I was awake you'd folded me into your arms and we'd made love and I'd sat on you with you inside me and I'd shaken my hair out, letting it fall free to my hips for you to run your fingers through as I moved on you, smiling down at you until I couldn't smile anymore.

Afterward, you'd held me.

You'd held me for hours that morning and if only this morning and every morning to come was like that, it'd be a dream come true but it's not. It's not like that at all and I'm crying again because I have to leave you and this is it. There is no more us after this, after I turn and walk away it's over and the pain of that realization is unbearable. Its torture, its sadness and my heart is breaking, fragmenting, shattering into splinters. I can't see for the tears that flood my eyes and you're holding me as if you never want to let me go and I know you don't.

"Don't cry," you say, over and over. "Don't cry, Teresa. Please don't cry ..."

But I can't help it. I can't stop and for a moment, I even consider not leaving. But not leaving would be worse. Far worse because eventually the truth would come out. You'd make a mistake, or I would, or someone would see us and gossip would travel. The gossip and the backstabbing was bad enough when I broke up with my boyfriend after that party. I couldn't bear that to happen with you and me and your wife. I have to go, I know and you hold me and you stroke my head and you kiss my forehead, my nose, my cheeks, my eyes.

At last I dry my eyes. A last sniffle. A last hug, another kiss, a squeeze of my hands and you let me go. I stand there, looking at you, unable to speak until at last I choke out, "Goodbye, Grant," and I don't wait for a reply. I turn and walk away.

I don't look back. I can't, because if I do and I see you, I'm going to run back to you, run to your arms and if I do that, I'll never leave them and I have to leave. If I stay, I won't be true to myself and I need that. I need that peace of mind. I need to know that despite what we've been doing for the last five months, I haven't done any permanent damage.

I stumble blindly down the lakeshore towards the cottage, tears flooding my eyes. Behind me I hear your truck start, pull away, and I know you've gone. Now, now that you're gone, my heart breaks all over again and I sink to the ground and cry and cry and cry until there's no more tears. There're no more tears but the pain still remains. I know I have to get home. We're leaving soon, an early morning start.

There's sleeping bodies everywhere. No-one's awake and I need a ride. My old boyfriend's there and I suddenly miss him. I could ask one of the other guys but I want to say goodbye to Rog. I owe him that at least. I kick him the way I used to. Not a hard kick. Just a nudge but it wakes him up. Roger doesn't drink or smoke weed as much as most of the guys and I know he'll give me a ride if I ask. He always does and he's more likely to wake up. He does. "Hey, Rog, can you give me a ride home?"

"Yeah, sure, Teresa," he says, sitting up. "Oh fuck .. fuck, my head." He bolts for the bathroom where he throws up. He doesn't sound too good.

I can't smile. Usually I would but the sadness that fills me has driven out every other emotion. I bring Rog a glass of water from the kitchen but I don't need to. He's got his head under the tap. He comes up wincing.

"That hurts," he says. "Do you mind driving? I'm still a bit fucked up." He tosses me his keys.

"Sure," I say, and he follows me out to his beat up old Silverado, climbs in as I start her up. I've driven it so many times before I can drive it without thinking and I try not to because if I do I'll cry. Rog doesn't say a word for the next twenty minutes and that's good too, he just rests his head against the head rest with his eyes closed.

His eyes open five minutes out from home. He reaches over, takes my hand where it rests on the shift. "You okay, Teresa?" His eyes are penetrating for once, he's really looking at me. "He didn't hurt you did he?"