Saying Goodbye
Dark is all I can manage at the moment, so this will have to do.
"Oohhh...so hot."
Your voice betrays emotion, of a sort. Mine betrays nothing.
"Get on the bed."
Your eyes betray the hunger too. In fairness to you, it was always there. The one thing in you I could count on, absolutely and without hesitation.
Your bedroom eyes dim in disappointment then, as I pull out the little packet and slide a condom over my horsehood with all the sterile enthusiasm of a theatre nurse gowning up a surgeon.
You have the sense not to speak though. A rare blessing, for which I am grateful.
Ahh my beautiful wolf. You take my breath away like this, stretched out naked on the bed. I see your heat, and your impatience, and try to remember the other things instead. They are still there, somewhere, buried deep but accessible, like an old magazine sent to the archives but not yet ready for destruction. All in good time.
Your body holding mine, just because you knew I needed it. Laughter and a twinkle of mischief in your eye as we race along the sand. The way you sat beside me on the beach watching the gulls dance above the waves and fed me carrot chips and let me not talk because you knew I didn't have the words but couldn't stand the company of my own mind.
Or at least I thought that was why back then. Maybe you just thought I had nothing intelligent to say.
"Come on...I need you so bad."
You never needed me. Not even now, though your cock may beg to differ. You are dripping already I see.
You look just like I remember. I came through the door to see you on our bed, with your muzzle on a bull stud's cock and your arse full of horse and dripping just like that. Did he have to be a horse, and why did it matter to me so much that he was? Neither question is much worth answering I guess; the better question was, why did you do it again and again when you knew how much it hurt?
"You know I always want you babe..."
The trouble is we both know the answer my love. You want a part of me, but not the whole damned package. I can't blame you for that I guess. I wouldn't want the whole fucked up remainder either if I could choose.
"Get your head down and your arse up mate."
Your little shudder should be sexy. You think I am going to punish you just the way you like for your transgression, just like every time before. Redemption has become a game, but I am sick of being played.
On the bed behind you, your tail up and twitching, pucker clenching in anticipation of the hard ride to come. A little surprise instead.
"Ohhhh..."
My tongue always loved the feel of you. I could delight in your taste and your touch for the rest of my days, bathing your body in the loving caresses of my soul through it's gentle ministrations. You don't want gentle, I know, and you look back at me perplexed and a little impatient. You want the serious fucking of course, as always. I don't care, not now. This is for me, and I give you the long slow lick I crave, tasting your funk and your impatient pleasure like nectar.
"Ohhhh fuck...I need it bad...hurry up!"
"Shut the fuck up!"
I pull your tail up rough, enough to make you yelp. You managed to make me show the anger and the hurt, which makes me angrier still. I hate the way I am not in control around you, the way you can get to me every day. Most of all, I hate the way you know you can do it and that you like it. Even now you are grinning as if you have won even as you grimace with the pain. I know the game, of course; I always knew you thought you were better than me. I never thought it mattered though, because I would have agreed with you. It took an endless procession of guys you brought to our bed before I realised we were not that different after all.
"Now hold still..."
I press against you, and you grit your teeth expecting the worst. Not today my love. No anger left, no hurt, no pain, no regret. You wanted a fuck, now I will show you.
"Ahhhhhhhhh..."
Taking you slow always felt the best. My flare just nudging your hole, just barely inside, then a long careful entry, finding every spot that could feel and working it until you howled. That's what I do now, banking the memories for the future.
Body over yours, my muzzle on your ears, nibbling as we mate. Not the hard wild fuck you expected, is it my love? I grip your leaking cock and bring you along, our bodies moving in perfect sync the way our hearts never could.
"Yessssss...ahhhhh...yesssss...oh God...oh God...oh God..."
For a confirmed atheist, you could find religion at the strangest times.
When you lift your head to the ceiling and howl, I feel the shudder in your body, right to the tip of your cock. I know the signs, and I let you reach an ending, release wracking your body until I let you lay still collapsed on the bed in the aftermath of our lovemaking listening to your contented pants while I rest my head against yours.
I feel your paw on my muzzle, trying to draw me into a kiss.
You miss the signs, again, and laugh.
"Stop playing around babe and kiss me! Then fuck me harder, I know you haven't cum yet and I want to feel you lose it inside me."
I am not laughing now though.
Pulling from your tailhole, I stand beside the bed and begin to dress. You look over at me stunned, as the realisation slowly dawns. I don't care anymore my love, about so many things. About love, about the future, about you. I used to care, so fucking much. Now I just have the colossal emptiness and the deepest feeling of fatigue. You wore me out, emotionally long before physically.
I also don't care about shame; once upon a time I would rather have died than let you see me cry. Now I just don't give a fuck.
"Babe..."
"No. Not anymore."
"Babe?"
One last time, so you know what you are losing. One last time, so I can remember all the good times. One last time to say goodbye.
"Babe? What the fuck...don't you....where are you going? Come back you cunt...what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
The first time I caught you, you tore my heart it two. When I realised you didn't care enough to stop, you chipped away at what was left piece by piece until there was nothing left and we were alike in that absence, you and I. Now I know...now I know how it feels to be you I guess, as I trot out of the only home I had for the last time.
Through a succession of one night stands I searched for something. The first was the same night I walked out on you, and I found a willing feline in a pub who looked at me like you did that night, heat and need and hunger and not a lot else and who got the load you craved instead and thanked me like I had made his day. I have lost count of them my love, but the numbers didn't matter, just the fact that they weren't you.
Yes, none of them sit beside me on the beach watching the gulls dance above the waves and feed me carrot chips and let me not talk because they know I don't have the words but can't stand the company of my own mind. And none of them feel like you when we rested after the loving was done and just fought for breath together in the endless embrace of the damned. None of them feel like a part of me, or feel like leaving part of me behind when I go.
And if a part of me realises there was something there after all, something I couldn't hold no matter how hard I tried, or perhaps because of how hard I tried, I shake my head to banish the memories of our last time together, and set off again on my journey.
Maybe one more my love, and I can really say goodbye.