Letter to a Lover Left Unsent

We stood silent and naked in my darkened apartment. I loved the warm smooth of your back. We swayed gently, not mindful of soft music playing on my cheap stereo. Times together had become strained with unmet expectations and the demands of college life, but on this evening we seemed at peace having accepted that our ending was near.  
  
The old B.J. Thomas album whispered in mournful tones, “We’re over and we still can’t say goodbye.” In a moment, all was silent except for the tone arm returning to its stand and a final click as the turntable stopped spinning.    
 
Your lips met mine in a kiss that betrayed a hunger. I thought you were feeling regret, but you kissed me again.  Then I felt your slender fingers moving up the inside of my thigh until they cupped my scrotum.  My cock was hard and standing out of the way.    
   
We found our way to my bed and caressed quietly for several minutes. Then, you rose over me and I saw the outline of you bowing over me as if in prayer. Your eyelids fluttered soft kisses up and down my shaft while your cool fingers gently cupped me below. Then your lips kissed lightly again and again as you moved to the tip of me and back.    
   
In the dim light I saw your small breasts that had been the focus of so much desire. I placed my hand on the arch of your bent back and felt your warmth, wondering what your future life would be. I felt your rib cage and blushed at how frantic and uncontrolled my desires for the core of your body had been. In thinking I was drilling deep into your soul, I missed much of your richness because of my obsessions and lust.    
   
As the fluttering across the length of my shaft continued, I remembered the painted lady butterflies we’d seen in the park and how your eyes moistened when you read that they typically live no more than two months. “Such beauty so fleeting,” you’d said. "Make love to me."  And we did, under a shady canopy.  
   
You continued your soft butterfly kisses and neither of us seemed to feel the urge for more. There would be no groping hands or unmet desires on this night, only resignation of our endings, and this, your parting gift.    
   
You seemed to sense my coming but continued the soft kisses. Your fingers pressed me gently as my creamy desires shot over my stomach. I moaned softly and you pressed your face against my throbbing and cried softly for several seconds. You kissed my stomach, pressing your lips into the puddle of cum. Your eyes glistened with tears as you leaned up to kiss me. I tasted the salt of my lust for you.    
   
That night and that kiss would be our last as life continued and we moved on from lover to lover. Eventually, there would be marriages, children, and successful careers for both of us in separate lives. I’ve seen photos of you in your doctor’s coat and hoped you’re happy. Out of respect for our spouses, we never spoke, but out of respect for you, I'll never forgot our final night.