Chapter 8: That First Separation

I woke at around 8:30 on Friday morning. I was lying on my back, with Cheryl on her side, snuggled up to me, and her head on my chest. She was wearing a gorgeous white babydoll nightie that was pretty close to transparent. It felt wonderful, too. I couldn’t resist letting my hand wander up and down her back a bit as she slept. And of course that woke her up, which I hadn’t meant to do.

She yawned and stretched, and put her hand down to grab hold of my morning hard-on.

“Do you have to pee?”

“Not right away. Why?”

“I do. I’ll go and do that. You stay here, and lose the shorts, because when I get back here, I need that monster inside me.”

She jumped out of bed and ran out the door. I noticed that she hadn’t bothered putting on the panties that went with the nightie, so her bare ass was nicely exposed. If it had been possible to get harder, I would have. I pulled off my boxers and waited, under the sheet.

She was back in a flash, and shut the door, then pulled the sheet off me and dropped to her knees between my legs, running her tongue around the head of my cock, then sucking it into her mouth. She didn’t stay there long, just enough to tease me a bit. Then she pulled back, and lay on her back beside me.

“Get on top, John. And I don’t want to make love this morning. I’m going to be gone for the whole week, which is just as well because my period should start tomorrow anyway. But before I leave you, I want to get fucked. Hard. When I’m driving home with Megan this morning, I want to be able to feel how hard I got fucked, and know that the best man on the planet did it to me. I don’t need any foreplay. And I don’t care who can hear us. Just climb on top and put it in me. Now. Please! Fuck me!”

Have I mentioned that I have zero willpower when it comes to this girl? I did as I was told. Or at least I tried to. I must not have been doing it quite as hard as she wanted it, because she kept urging me to do her harder. I was pleased, however, with how long I lasted. I guess coming twice last night, once in her pussy and once in her butthole, had done me in, because it took me much longer than usual before I was ready to come in her that morning. She had two loud, screaming orgasms, and then as I ramped up to give her my sperm, she got started on round three. That put me over the top. When we were done, I checked the wall above the bed. I was sure I had dented it by banging the headboard into it so hard for so long. But it appeared that I hadn’t done any damage at all.

We cuddled briefly, then got up and ran to the bathroom and showered together one last time. Then we wrapped up in towels and went back to Cheryl’s room to get dressed. By the time we got out again, Megan was at the table, eating some toast. Cheryl gave her a hug.

“Morning, roomie. How are you this fine morning?”

Megan sighed. “If you want the honest answer, I’m horny as hell. I was woken up by the sound of someone who happened to be in the room beside mine getting the living shit fucked out of her.”

Cheryl giggled. “Sorry!”

“Yeah, right.” Megan snorted. “I bet you are.”

We ate together, quickly, then Cheryl and Megan got ready to leave. Before they took their bags to the car, Cheryl pulled me into her bedroom. Megan rolled her eyes at us. Cheryl shut the door, then pulled a gift bag out of her closet.

“John, please take this and pack it with your stuff to take home. It’s just a bit of a care package, ok? Don’t open it until you are alone in your bedroom tonight. Promise?”

I promised. She kissed me, and then we went back out to see Megan.

“That was some quick quickie,” Megan commented. Neither of us responded.

We all pulled on our coats, and then I carried both of their suitcases down to the car while they carried their laptop bags. When we got to the car, I helped them load, then got a hug from Megan and a deep kiss from Cheryl. Then she handed me the gift bag, and with much waving, they drove away. And I am not ashamed to say that as I walked back to my place and contemplated nearly a full week apart from her, after only a week of being with her, I balled my eyes out.

I had myself pretty much under control by the time I got back to my place. I put the clothes I needed for the weekend into a bag (most of it was dirty, but I could wash it more easily at home than I could in my apartment), threw in my shaving stuff, and added the care package that Cheryl had given me. I was dying to know what was inside it, but I had promised her that I wouldn’t look till I was at alone in my room at home tonight. And I was not going to break that promise.

Once I had it all packed, and had gathered my laptop and the books I needed for the weekend and thrown them into my briefcase, I headed out again to get the bus to the train station. The train ride was pleasant enough - I got some good reading done, and tried not to think about the fact that it was taking me in the opposite direction from the one Cheryl was driving in. When the train was about halfway to Sarnia, I got a text from Cheryl.

“Just dropped M off. Love u more than I can say. Miss u that much 2.”

I texted her back: “Almost to Mom. Love and miss u 2.” I thought about adding a weepy face, but decided that would be too over the top. Even if it was totally honest.

Mom was waiting for me at the station, and after a hug and a kiss I threw my gear in the backseat of the car and we headed for home. We made small talk, about the trip and my sisters. And then there was one of those silences that happen in every conversation, and Mom broke it by saying, “So, when are you going to tell me your big news?”

My mouth dropped open. I tried to bluff. “What big news, Mom?”

“Johnny, you’re my little boy. No matter how old you are. I can tell when something is going on. And it must be big, because you’ve changed since the last time I saw you. You’re so confident you’re looking almost smug. So what’s the news?”

So I told her about Cheryl. Not about meeting her a week ago in front of the Thistle, puking her guts up on the sidewalk. Just that we had reconnected, after meeting last year, and we were dating.

“Johnny,” Mom said, taking her eyes off the road to look me in the eye, “tell me the truth. What’s she like? Is she the kind of girl you should be dating? I want to see you happy, and I don’t want to see you hurt. And you’ve never had a relationship, at least that I’ve known about.”

I was quiet. How to answer that one.

“Mom. I am happy. Is she the girl for me? I hope so. I think so. Mom, every night for the last 12 months, or more, I’ve fallen asleep dreaming that I was with this girl. Am I infatuated? Yes. Totally. But I think it’s more than that. I really do. Mom, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I think someday Cheryl Roberts will be your daughter-in-law. And I can tell you that if that happens, you will never get a second daughter-in-law, because I will never let her get away from me.”

“I worry about you, Johnny. I just hope she cares for you as much as you care for her.”

And then Mom started to cry, just a bit. Lots of mothers might not care, or might not let on they care. But mine does. I have the best mother in the world and the best girlfriend in the world. How blessed can a guy be?

When we neared home, Mom told me that she had to get to work as soon as possible, as she had ducked out to come and pick me up. She’s the office administrator at our local elementary school, the one that my sisters and I all went to. I said I’d hang out at the house for the afternoon and do some more schoolwork.

“You going to go and get your sisters when school ends?”

I grinned. This was a habit of ours. It was necessary, once, and now it wasn’t anymore, but I still did it when I could. When all of us kids were in elementary school, I’d collect my sisters and walk them home after classes were done for the day. Mom had to stay for another hour, and sometimes longer. When I started going to high school, my sisters were in grades 3 and 5, and I would still go and get them from the elementary school and walk them home. I kept walking the girls home, even though they didn’t need me to, until I moved away to go to university. And when I was at home, if I could, I would still go and get them. They were both in high school now, in grades 9 and 11, so they could easily walk themselves back home after school. But all of us knew that I would be there to meet them when they came out of the school building at 3:15.

So Mom dropped me off at the house, and headed to work, and I went in. Nothing seemed to have changed since I had been home last, though it had been 6 weeks. I made myself a sandwich, grabbed a coke from the fridge, and went up to my room to get some work done. The afternoon passed quickly, and I was productive, even though I found myself thinking of Cheryl a few times. What would she look like, on my bed, on her hands and knees, in that green outfit she wore the other night? I shuddered, and shook my head to get my mind back where it was supposed to be.