Flight of Love

Alyce Walsh knew that tonight would be special. A part of her, however, wished this night would never have to come.

Walsh had risen to become the first foreign-born executive editor of Metropolis magazine, a role she had served in for five years before receiving a lucrative offer to become the editor-in-chief of Harbour Magazine, the most popular publication in her native Sydney, the publication that made her want to become a journalist in the first place. She loved New York, but as the famous Peter Allen song put it, she still called Australia home—and she was certainly thrilled to be fulfilling a dream once thought unattainable.

Yet she knew that her boyfriend, Martin Heath, could not join her. She had met Heath, then a young executive at RBC News, shortly after becoming executive editor and immediately fell in love with him. She loved his laugh, his warmth, his wit. She was awed by his life story—how he grew up disadvantaged in Brooklyn to become one of the country's most prominent African-American TV news executives—and how kind and graceful he was in a world of arrogant personalities. She wished he could join her—but she knew that he valued his career just as much as she did hers, and that under no circumstances would he abandon the chance to possibly become RBC News president, when that goal was just a few years away from being achieved.

Martin took the news well, telling her that as much as he wished she could stay in New York, he knew that this was an offer too good for her to pass up. He only asked for one favor: that before she left the States, before she broke up with him for good, that they make love just one last time.

Alyce readily agreed. She would miss the look and feel of his muscled dark body, the passion of his kisses, the taste of his cock. It was almost enough to make her want to stay.

Tonight was the night. Alyce was dressed in a tight white dress that accentuated every curve of her petite body. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, her blue eyes covered by sunglasses. As she stepped out of the taxi, she looked down at her pink shoes and imagined seeing them tossed casually on the floor of Martin's condo as they feverishly made love for the very last time.

Martin buzzed her in to his glamorous Manhattan apartment. She had been there numerous times before, but this time the energy was different, as if the very building knew that she'd be saying goodbye after this night.

"Hi," said Martin as he opened the door. He wore a black suit, white shirt, dark blue tie and black shoes; his curly black hair looked so gorgeous and smooth. Alyce immediately leaned in to kiss him, and sighed after the kiss concluded.

"You know, you can still back out, baby," he said, taking her hand and leading her into the lobby.

"I know," she whispered.

Martin walked into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of champagne. "Alyce?"

"Yes."

He leaned over to kiss her blushing cheek. "You know I'll always love you, right?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"I've never loved anybody like I love you. I always want you to remember that. Even if we find other people, I always want you to remember that."

"I promise you, I will."

Martin smiled, and Alyce sighed again. She would miss that smile.

"Martin?"

"Yes, Alyce."

"How do you feel about being my ex-boyfriend?"

"Honored."

"Oh, Martin!"

They both laughed, and Martin put his arm around Alyce, giving her shoulder a quick kiss.

"Alyce," Martin whispered.

"Yes, Martin."

"I can't wait anymore...I need you know. It's the last time..."

"Shhh!" said Alyce, placing her pale finger on Martin's full lips. "We'll always be together—we'll just be separate physically."

Martin nodded.

"I don't want to talk anymore, except to say this: Alyce, I love you."

Martin kissed her forehead and lips, removing his clothing as Alyce also began to strip down. Martin gulped as he saw the pink bra and panties on Alyce's toned body, and jokingly urged her to hurry up as she removed the underwear.

In just a matter of seconds, they were both nude, Martin's giant black cock shiny and beautiful, Alyce's pussy moist and pretty. Martin embraced her and motioned towards the bedroom; once there, the handsome black American and the sexy white Australian began to fuck for the final time.

Tears of joy flowed from Martin and Alyce's eyes as he kissed and licked her pink nipples while she caressed his strong, muscled back. As he kissed her stomach and licked her sweet pussy, he thought back to the first time they made love, and how improbable it was for a black guy from Brooklyn to hook up with this saucy Aussie. When Alyce felt Martin's gorgeous cock penetrate her for the final time, she remembered the first time she felt him inside her, and how thrilled she was to have her fantasizes about black men come true.

They stayed up all night after they made love, reminiscing about their walks in Central Park, their lunches and dinners, their birthday and Valentine's Day gifts, even their silly arguments. The next morning, they showered together and had one last breakfast before it was time to finally say goodbye.

"I will always love you," Alyce said, "and I will always miss you."

"Same here," Martin responded. "I love you, and I will always keep you in my heart forever."

Two days later, Alyce headed back to Australia, eyes filled with tears, mind filled with memories, and a heart filled with nostalgia for a love that had to end, but one that would last forever.