The One That Got Away

We collapsed together and lay panting, she on my chest and held together until a couple minutes later my cock, deflating, slithered out of her ass and my cum dribbled onto us. She was nuzzled into me, my arms wrapped around her. We dozed off.

When I awoke the fire was low. She was still on top of me. I woke her with kisses and we went to the bed in the back of the loft, she sleepily trailing behind me as I led her by the hand and put her in the flannels sheets and comforter-laden bed. I banked the fire and drank a beer, closed the shades and got in with her and we spooned. I was in a world of bliss and joy and confusion. She sighed and soon we were both dead asleep.

In the morning we showered together and got dressed and I drove her back to a friend’s house, dropping her off and waving as she winked at me, walking around the back. I had her number and we were getting together later in the week. I went home and did my chores, Claire on my mind. I gave in and dialed the number. It was disconnected. That made me feel a little lousy so I drove to town. She’d never gone in that house; it was closed for the season. Probably slid around back, hopped a fence.

I went back home and did my chores in a glum mood but I shook it off. I’d done the same thing a couple times in my life but not after sex like that. When we parted I asked her what the letters on her tattoo meant. She seemed wistful, “To thine own self be true”. I guess she was. That was, hands down, the greatest fuck of my life.