A Valentine's Day Erotica
A few years ago I was dating a girl named Valerie. Although I can’t say I miss her hysterical antics, I often miss her magnificent athletic body. And those huge diamond blue eyes. Oh, my… I get an erection just thinking about them.
Yes, God, or Mother Nature, or whoever was behind her design, had surely excelled in its execution. She was tall, nearly six foot, dark blond (strangely enough her pubic hair – the tiny bit of it, she didn’t shave – was so light it was almost luminescent).
She was a professional dancer and had trained her body to perfection. When she walked, she moved so stealthily and silently it was as if she floated half an inch above the ground. Her muscles were constantly tensed. Her back hollow and her head stood so straight on her shoulders, she could easily carry something on top of it.
She was also extremely reserved. One could even say she was cold and arrogant. Yet, is it fair to blame her? Most of her life every man who crossed her path desired her. While almost every girl in her vicinity envied her to such a degree, it must often have caused bitter resentment.
How I managed to seduce her I can’t quite figure out anymore since I was quite drunk, but I must have done a lot of things right. It was just one of those nights I guess… one of those rare occasions when all the elements align perfectly. And a certain gesture, a certain phrase, turns out to be the philosophers’ stone; the key to glory.
One evening, when she was out, I did something quite naughty: I read her diary. It was even worse than it sounds because this assault on her privacy was premeditated. I had seen her write in it and I was desperate to understand her better. Well, I did learn quite a lot of things about her, about us and about myself.
The most important conclusion I could draw, was that she was cold and arrogant… that we were going to struggle. And that I had made many mistakes. She hated my friend Jon.
Ah, well… she should have told me. It was hard to discern who she did and didn’t like. Ooh, she said some pretty nasty things about Jon! It actually made me laugh. There were some things about her family, about my family, about her friends…. And then I stumbled on the following entry:
February 15, 2013.
Sometimes I really hate Basilio! He always wants to do things his way. He doesn’t even want to celebrate Valentine’s day with me :-( He says it’s a ‘commercial non-event’ or some such rubbish.
But of course, he’s just awkward about how this commercial non-event will forever be linked to his name! That silly mister Valentine of mine. He told me the kids at school used to tease him with it.
He’d be quite confused if he’d find out what his refusal to conform to the norms of what’s required of a normal couple has led to! Yes, he’d be… but so am I. It was all so strange… I don’t quite know how to feel about it.
Because stupid Basilio didn’t want to celebrate Valentine with me (yes, yes, he took me out to some fancy Italian restaurant on the 13th, sigh…) I decided to spend the day with Alicia. I had mentioned the pigheadedness of my boyfriend to her and she had invited me over to her place. She was also alone because Dennis was in Miami for business.
From the moment I sat down next to her on her sofa, I felt something was… different. She was wearing her most beautiful dress. Her make-up, her fragrance – it was all too much, too sexy. She sat closer than she normally would. She stared at me; she stared shamelessly into my eyes. And she kept filling my wine glass after I had taken a few sips.
While reading this my annoyance was replaced by a sudden (and quite unexpected) wave of intense lust. Alicia?! Alicia coming on to Valerie?! Alicia was one of my girlfriend’s best – well, one of her few – friends.
I had concluded that their friendship was mainly possible because Alicia was an absolute goddess herself. They understood and shared each other’s burden. Oh, God! The idea of my girlfriend with Alicia! Too much!
I felt quite uncomfortable and intimated by the bizarre behavior of my dear friend. But I couldn’t help being influenced by the whine. I became drowsy and more confused. I tried to understand what she was thinking. Could I be attracted to her?
That Versace black lace dress did look awfully good on her! How did she get her hair to flow around her body as if it was an integral part of her physique? It was as if she had been drawn by Alphonse Mucha. I had often perceived the marvelous voluptuous fullness of her lips. Yes, I had, but not like this!
Before I could share these thoughts with her, she kissed me. It felt as wrong as it felt right.
I was already half-naked and playing with her breasts when she asked:
Do you mind if we let Dennis watch?
A jolt shot through my spine.
I thought your boyfriend was in Miami?! I said.
Yes, he is…
Do you want to record us?!
No, no… Here, watch.
She turned on the television.
If I click on this button Dennis will appear on screen… and he will be able to see us.
I realized I had been tricked into this situation. Why did I not run away? In a way, I had been betrayed. I find it hard to face this. I just couldn’t stop. The lust, the whine, the drowsiness; the whole occasion had turned me into a complete – ahum – slut.
So I did not object. I sheepishly greeted Dennis. I let Alicia undress me. Dennis undressed too, in his fancy hotel room in Miami. And then she introduced her sex toys.
A strange hybrid world in which we were and were not together unfurled. The toys became Dennis and I became Alicia… or at least merged with Alicia. And we came and came. It was raunchy, shameless, dirty, so dirty! But I have to admit it was wonderful. I’m soaking wet just thinking about it.
Well, that’s nice!
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