This Isn’t Goodbye
Tiffany
Harrison has been with me almost a week now. Thanks to his help, I now drive a sensible yet sporty Toyota Scion tC. It’s a cute car, well within my savings account budget, but definitely not my BMW. I’m also adjusting to my smaller condo that is still in the same complex as before. I feel slightly stuck. I want to leave, but they were willing to apply the deposit from my previous place to this one, so until I have my money sorted completely, this will have to do.
What do I do about my career? I have a college degree, the one my father chose and paid for. He always said, “The key to success in my business, Tiffany dear, is advertising and marketing. Educate yourself in that field for the longevity of the business.” And I did just that. I hate the work, but it did prove useful in the business world.
My thoughts drift as I look up to find Harrison in the kitchen with me. He’s shirtless with sweats hanging so low the bubble of his ass is all that’s keeping them up. The V of his hips calls to be licked, and the dark trail of hair begs to be followed to the gift hidden below. He’s still as muscular as he was three years ago. His tattoos are on glorious display, the black and gray leopard’s tail wrapping his hip, ending in the hidden depths of his sweatpants, as the body wraps and claws its way up Harrison’s right side. The words surrounding the underbelly of the animal, written in a beautiful script, draw me in. “To thine own self, always be true.” The tattoo ends with the leopard’s head peeking out from under Harrison’s armpit, facing his chest. I reach out, tracing the animal and all of his spots.
“A leopard never changes its spots. He’s strong, fast, sleek, stealth-like, fierce, and focused. It’s a reminder of who I am at my core and to never change,” Harrison states, not removing my hand from his body.
Inching closer, I take in more of Harrison’s ink. Then I sigh, remembering when he and Matt got their eagle, globe, and anchor Marine Corps’ tattoos.
My attention moves away from that part of his chest to the words now inked in script over his heart. “Never settle for less than complete, unconditional love and acceptance.” It’s then that Harrison places his hand over mine.
“The words are true, Tiffany. Don’t settle for less. Love and be loved for exactly who you are. Accept no less.”
His words hit my soul. Captivated and intoxicated by this man, I boldly go up on my tiptoes and brush my lips briefly across his. Yes, I am playing with fire, but I can’t help myself.
Anticipating the rejection, I begin to pull back. Only, the rejection doesn’t come.
Harrison brings his hand to my head, his fingers in my hair, pushing me back to him for more. I open my mouth ever so slightly, allowing him to take over and invade all my senses as our kiss deepens, igniting in passion.
The kiss is fresh and familiar at the same time. The demand and dominance in Harrison is new and refreshing. Our tongues, however, explore each other in the same familiar routine as they did for so long. It’s like being home again.
Wrapping my hands around his waist, I pull him to me. His sweats are unable to hide the erection he’s developing. Knowing I still affect him like this only heightens my desire.
To have a moment with him, even if only this moment, I will take it and treasure it, because there hasn’t been much good in my life, except Matt and Harrison.
He breaks away only long enough to remove my shirt before he crashes down on my lips again, making me moan in pleasure.
With his hands now on my breasts, I arch forward, pushing them farther into his caress. Finding my nipple rings, he gently rolls one as he tugs almost harshly on the other. The pleasure combined with the sharp, unexpected pinch in his tug turns my insides out.
As I break away to breathe, Harrison chuckles against my neck.
“Oh, Tiff, baby, I love those piercings,” Harrison whispers in my ear.
Lust overcomes both of us as I push his pants down, taking his long, thick shaft in my hand. The velvety feel of his skin speaks of a gentleness that is overshadowed by the power, size, and firmness of his dick. He may feel soft, and he may be the kindest man on a date, but Harrison is a beast in the bedroom.
He’s growing even harder under my touch as I reach the head of his penis and feel the little, metal balls that adorn his king’s crown piercing. The multiple dydoe piercings surrounding the head of his penis hold promise for complete ecstasy reaching nerve endings you never thought possible. Liquid pools deep in my core at the memories of feeling Harrison’s pierced cock deep inside of me.
I leisurely stroke him as the power of our kisses overtakes me, my tongue now craving the taste of his saltiness, my mouth seeking the fullness of his cock. But before I can give in to this desire, Harrison removes my shorts and panties then lifts me onto the kitchen counter.
Kissing me fervently, he finds my folds, rubbing and teasing me. My thoughts and hand now abandon Harrison’s dick as I get lost in the sensations running through my body.
It’s been three years since he last touched me, three years since I have had anyone touch me. Therefore, as he inserts one finger into my core, I’m rocked deeply.
He maintains an almost torturously slow pace, and I want to push against him, but his other arm is snaked firmly around my hips, holding me immobile while he presses his head into the crook of my neck as he nips, sucks, and licks at it and my collarbone. I moan, trying to clue him in that I need more.
“Trust me,” he whispers with a rasp to his voice. “Let me go slow. I’ll give you the release you crave.”
For us, it’s never been like this: hard, fast, and shared control.
I feel helpless to my lust, my desires, and to the power Harrison holds, not only over my body, but my heart. I hear an echo in my head, a simple reminder, “Let him love you, Tiffany.” At that, I realize I need to let Harrison have his control. I need to trust him to take care of me.
Consumed in the slow, gentle pace, I manage to nod. At that, he removes his finger from my core and, wrapping my legs around his waist, he carries me to my couch. Then he leans over me, kissing his way down. At my breasts, he takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking in as he rolls the ring over his tongue. I feel like I’m going to combust. He then continues south until he reaches the juncture of my hips.
Breathing over my mound, he smiles up at me. “I’m going to claim your pussy, Tiffany. It’s mine today.”
Before I can think on what this means, his mouth is upon my core, ravaging me. His tongue is included on the attack to own every millimeter of my pussy.
He more than claims it. He captures it.
As he licks, separating my lips to find my swollen, sensitive, aching clit, I think I’m going to go crazy with desire. When he inserts two fingers at the exact moment he sucks on me, I come apart around him.
My thighs grip his head as the electric current washes over me. He doesn’t stop, continuing to lap and finger me as I ride out my orgasm. He uses his thumb to rub over my anus, using gentle pressure without breeching. Then he blows gently on my sex and sucks on my inner thighs, letting me build again from his fingers, the tightening in my belly radiating over my body.
He comes down, licking me once again, and as I relax into my coming orgasm, he increases his pace on the two fingers inserted in my pussy. I’m on the verge of release when he sucks hard on my clit and inserts his thumb into my ass, immediately pushing me over the edge.
I see stars as the world dances around me. My body trembling uncontrollably, I remotely take in Harrison’s gentle kisses now coming over my belly and back to my breasts. I stiffen with concern that he will take my overly sensitive nipples, but he quickly covers them with his hands, gently massaging to relax me.
“I got you. Relax, baby. You have to come down from that one.”
After I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, Harrison kisses me, his erection pressing into my leg.
I move, wrapping my legs around him, ready for him. And just as I think he’s going to enter me, the sound of his phone ringing stops the moment, and he drops his head to my chest.
Trying to be helpful, I reach for his phone. As I hand it to him, I glance at the screen. Sophia.
That is the cold dose of ice water I needed. This is a mistake.
I give Harrison his phone, wiggling out from under his body.
“Tiff, wait,” he says, not answering his phone.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can manage as I retreat to my bedroom.
Hiding in my bathroom, taking the longest shower I can sounds like a plan.
***
Harrison
Shit! What have I done? How did I let things get so out of control, dammit?
“Hey, Soph, sorry. I didn’t catch the phone in time,” I say when Sophia answers my returned call.
“Hey, I wanted to let you know Maggie and Brayden are home. Everyone is missing you.”
Everyone, huh? Does that include her?
Maggie called and left a message, so I knew they were already home. Sophia calling is more for her benefit than my own. But is it because she’s missing me and wanting more?
“I plan on returning tomorrow. Tiffany should be fine now,” I state.
“Okay, well, have a safe trip. See you when you get back.”
“I have a few things to square away before I get on the road. I’ll text when I leave. We need to have a talk when I return, Sophia.”
“Yeah, we do. Look, I gotta go. I have a client. I just wanted to let you know about Maggie. See you soon.” With that, she ends the call.
First, I have to face Tiffany. Then, when I get back to Charlotte, I have to face Sophia. Regardless of whether Sophia and I are in a committed relationship, I need to be honest with her about what happened between Tiffany and me.
I go into the kitchen to retrieve my sweatpants before heading toward the bathroom.
In the bedroom, I immediately take in the noise of the shower. I stand against the door and bang my head against it. Tiffany only has one bedroom and bathroom now.
This was not supposed to happen. Sleeping in her bed, even if only to sleep, was a bad idea these last few days. It’s created a closeness and intimacy we didn’t need to share.
I grab a T-shirt from my bag then pack up the last of my things and take my bag to the living room. Once Tiffany is done, I will gather my toiletries and get on the road.
She comes out, wearing oversized sweats and her wet hair piled messily on top of her head.
Her attempt at unsexy is failing miserably. I want nothing more than to rip those clothes from her body and finish what we started. My sweats won’t hide the desire burning through me if I don’t get my mind and dick under control.
“Tiffany, I’m sorry,” I start to say.
She puts her hand up to silence me. “It’s okay. I think we both are lost right now and got caught up. I don’t want to mess anything up for you. I know you can’t stay.” Her head drops, the motion contradicting her next words. “I’m going to be okay, Harrison. I know this is goodbye.”
Unable to stop myself, I pull her to me, holding her close. “This isn’t goodbye. I’m always only a phone call away. Even though we both fucked shit up in the past, I’m here for you now. All you have to do is call. Even if you just want to catch up, call. I have to get back to Charlotte. I have a job, family, friends, and Sophia there.
“I didn’t mean for things to happen today, but I don’t regret it.” I tilt her chin up so she looks at me. “I don’t regret anything with you. We’re friends. You can visit me anytime, and I promise I’ll visit you as soon as I can. This isn’t goodbye; it’s until I see you again.” I mean every last word of it.
This isn’t goodbye. I realize Tiffany is an important part of my life and always will be. There are so many things I never understood and I am still learning. I can’t turn my back on her, and I won’t.