0 comments/ 58379 views/ 1 favorites St. Valentines Day By: patuk54 Every Friday evening we at my work place have some sort of celebration. Usually it is just a meal or something and on the odd occasion we hire a restaurant and have our own 'knee's up' so to speak. Most of those at work have partners and usually l am the odd one out, but that doesn't usually bother me, however, one such occasion was around saint valentines night and our restaurant was made out in that theme. Knowing that in advance I needed a guy to take with me and my only reliable contacts were all busy this particular evening, so I did something l never thought I would have to, that was to scale the yellow pages for an escort. Meeting Mark at a bar close by the restaurant I was soon to find out that he wasn't going to be like my usual dates on such occasions. For the get together I like to dress smart rather than sexy and felt so in a small beaded number that was high enough up my legs and low enough around my cleavage as to hopefully be stared at by the men (and woman) there, but not for that obvious reason. However, Mark had come, although smart, well a pair of shimmering black leather trousers that were tight enough to prove to he world that he was gorgeously well hung as we say. Also the hairs on his chest were showing through his almost transparent silky loose shirt. But he was a tanned hunky dream of a man and although I knew I would get daggers thrown at me as we made our entrance, the audience we were joining were all friends and I am sure they would see the funny side of it all. Deliberately, I held Mark back till we were late and knowing that when we eventually walked into the restaurant eyes and daggers flew into our direction, and over drinks the woman thought it amusing, but the men there wasn't so amused as quickly Mark became the 'king of the ball'. Surprisingly, Mark was very well mannered at such a posh do, and held his own in conversation and his mannerism. Afterwards however, I lost him to my girlfriends as the old doctors were picking on me to dance knowing that Mark was getting all the attention from the wives and girlfriend's. At last a slow romantic dance came on the juke box and Mark pulled hold of me and with my arms wrapped around my lovers neck felt his hands nestle cheekily onto my bum cheeks and push my groin tightly into his. "Have l done that Mark, or was it one of the others?" Knowing exactly what l was referring to my legs almost buckled as his hot breath exhaled onto my neck and he whispered... "All you Pat, all you". The song ended all to quickly and although I knew I was getting jealous eyes raining down on me. Mark had completely seduced me in that short record and all of a sudden I just wanted this party to end. It didn't of course and I was frustrated as hands from somewhere took my partner away from me. Every time our eyes met on the dance floor his lovely piercing eyes melted me and I just wonder what the guy dancing with me must have felt as my breathing stopped and l imagined my dance partner to be him. Was midnight, l had only bought Mark till then and think I would have paid him extra money if at this time he would have bid me farewell. I needn't have worried though, was the last dance and for only the second time that evening I got to dance with Mark. "My flat or yours Pat", was all Mark said to me as if it was a formality, it was and l shrugged my shoulders in a couldn't care less attitude. It was to be his, and with every woman in there kissing us with envious looks on their faces we said our goodbyes and left. The car ride home was strange, knowing I was going to have this hunk of a man inside me, a man I knew nothing off and didn't care, I was going to a flat that I didn't know where either. Hardly a word was spoken, usually full of conversation I seemed to have only one thing spinning around in my mind. At last his car came to a stand still and as he ushered me out of his car, the coldness of the night air and sudden silence around me excited me, as I was holding onto Mark's arm, my head resting on his now cool arm. Fixing me a drink at his bachelor pad apartment, looking around I was eyeing up the situation. I remember thinking that everything in the small flat was made for sex. Looking over to the bed, it was surrounded in black silky satin sheets, a small light was directing down onto the bed, just enough to see what was happening, but dark enough so as not to need turning off. My head was spinning as Mark clicked on his remote control and as if by magic that same record we were dancing to earlier suddenly filled the room and that was a cue for us both to put our drinks down and continue where we left off on the dance floor. This time however there was no one there to take my place and as if by accident we ended the dance at the foot of the bed in the semi darkness. Think it was the first time also that we kissed, gently and with our arms around each other, Mark's kiss was as magnetic as his personality as I heard and felt my zip being lowered and lowering my arms from his neck shook to let it fall to the floor. Easy, I might seem, but this was one time I wasn't going to let pass by and we stood facing each other as my long painted fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. Undone, it was soon running down his arms and as our naked bodies met for the first time we kissed as I let his shirt fall onto my wasted dress. I needed to see him naked, curiosity had been with me all night wondering about the size of him and without any objection from Mark I kissed down his body licking at the saltiness of it, as eventually I was on my knees and his mighty erection was now straining at the leather of his trousers. Our eyes were locked together as I fumbled with the buckle of his belt, eventually that was loosened and the tightness produced by his erection made it obvious I needed help with his leather trousers. Smiling, Mark realised this and from resting his hands in my hair proceeded to undo the button and zip of his trousers. Pushing his hand away then I clumsily reached inside and felt his hard erection for the first time. It was powerful, the whole of my hand encircled it and I remember thinking at the time that my hands wouldn't reach the circumference of his powerful tool. Eventually it was out, standing proudly looking at me in the eye, taking my hands away l lowered his tight trousers to his ankles and it seemed so natural to open my mouth wide and take his erection deep inside me. Feeling Mark's hands in my hair suddenly grip my head only helped to relax my situation I was in, and taking him in deeply now, again produced the same reaction from Mark as he again gripped firmly onto my head, all the while fumbling with his clothing and eventually had freed him of the bundle of clothes around his ankles. It was me who was over dressed now as Mark pulled my face away from my lovely sex toy as the light bounced on it, showing my spent saliva glistening on his proud manhood. "MMmm, this is your treat Pat", Mark tells me, helping me up off my knees. "But that felt so good Mark". Not answering but again we hug and as our lips meet again, this time a little more frantic as Mark laid me down gently onto the black satin sheets and he was soon on top of me and while our tongue's entwined I felt Mark's hands caressing at my excited and hot body. Working his way downwards Mark soon had my erect nipples in his mouth and feeling's of utter pleasure were tingling through my body as his strong hands searched around my groin and hips and a catch of breath from me told him that his hand that were now searching underneath my panty line was telling him to continue on further.. Gradually I felt my now wet panties being rolled down my legs and lifting my hips of the bed Mark, with his rough shaven face that was now licking and kissing at the area that had moments earlier been covered with my black silky panties. Almost roughly I felt Mark pulling my legs apart and quickly I relaxed my muscles and almost immediately felt his tongue licking at my wetness and his hands were soon hooking my thighs around his shoulders. "MMmmm..." that felt electrifying, almost unable to contain myself as he opened me wide and my breathing became erratic as Mark was licking deep inside me. Every now and again he would make me jump as his tongue flickered on to my clit and because I felt so aroused it must have been as hard as my already erect nipples. As I squeezed on one and with my other hand hooked around Mark's neck I was grinding my hips into him and felt my head spinning and my mouth drying as unhurriedly Mark knew l belonged to him and I felt both his hands now open me up fully and his lips bare down on my excited clitoris and could hear him sucking on it as well as feeling it sending shivers throughout my body. Wanting that feeling to last for ever l tried in vain to push Mark from me, but to no avail and struggling, surrendered my orgasm to him. His face stayed by my wetness for ever, I was laying flat, my legs aching after squeezing the life out of him and my hands now resting on the satin sheets, completely in love with the world. Another gentle kiss , hitting home again on my clit sent shivers through me again, and not even thinking he would repeat the situation I was suddenly moaning and groaning and making no attempt to stop him this time and laid back in complete contentment as Mark's expert tongue and lips quickly got me to the verge of my second climax. Stopping me there this time as he sensed by my breathing, and waiting for me to relax again before continuing. Haven't a clue how long he kept me high in that state, seemed for ever and given my wish, wouldn't have excepted that. But Mark eventually had other ideas and for the first time in ages saw his face appear from between my legs. This was the first time in years that l had really felt satisfied and this man was doing all the satisfying, but I wasn't complaining one little bit. Then to my surprise, still l wanted to feel his man hood, he asked me whether l remembered what his other profession was, looking puzzled l suddenly remembered he was a masseur and nodding he asked whether l wanted his sexual version. Knowing it was to involve his mighty erection l quickly agreed to it. Pulling me up from the bed I was suddenly standing, l staggered unaware that my legs had been tense from the feeling's Mark had given out to me earlier, but felt safe under the protective wings of Mark. Taking me over to a small dining table he lifted me up onto it, and l was suddenly amused, sitting on it with my arms intertwined around my legs wondering what treats await me now. Wasn't to wait many seconds either, Mark positioning me in such a way that l had a pillow under my head and my legs were half hanging off the end of this small table. Almost by magic, he slid the whole of me towards him and again lifting my legs up above him they were nicely positioned for him to enter me whenever he pleased. But l wasn't to be that lucky, instead he reached over and produced a bottle, which turned out to be scented oils and poured lots of it over my body. Putting the bottle down he came closer to me and l saw his erection for the first time agonisingly close to me, it was resting on my shaved mound as he proceeded to work in the oils to my already over heated body. Knowing I was to have that lovely heavy erection inside me at any moment heightened the excitement Mark was already producing as his magical hands worked my body so well. Unable to relax me though, think Mark soon realised that. Suddenly his oily hands took hold of each of my stockined legs, opened them wide and with a crafty movement from him I suddenly felt his erection pushing at my over eager pussy lips. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if 'she' opened herself fully and engulfed it without either of us helping, but in no time and although very hard and very big I could feel him deep inside me as he carried on massaging my body. Every now and again I saw his face change expressions and he pushed himself deep inside me and felt his hairs tickling against my shaved and by now very tender lips, my muscles holding on and clinging to his hardness as l felt him slowly withdraw and felt my wet lips kiss Mark's erection as it left me. With his hands still on my legs, l was looking up into paradise and l felt his hard tip probing at my opening once more. Always begging him to enter me he never failed either, and my breath was pushed from my lungs while he was deep inside me. I can't remember such an expert as Mark inside me and each time, or so it seemed, he wanted to, pushed himself deeply into me and the feeling's were becoming so intense and as if my vaginal muscles were pleading with him, they engulfed him wishing he wouldn't tease the way he was. He was getting me off at will now, I felt almost embarrassed at the ease l was climaxing, not once, not twice, but it seemed I was at his will to come whenever he wanted me to. I think and hope to this day that Mark decided enough was enough for me, my orgasm's were so intense, and coming at such regular intervals that suddenly I felt his rhythm increase and for the first time that evening I think he lost control and all of a sudden he was fucking me and I was able to see pure passion on his face and although I knew I was having my umpteenth orgasm I was so pleased to see his face and body tense and tighten, and it was the most wonderful feeling to date as he pushed every inch he had to offer into me and to feel his hot love juice explode into me was a feeling that will live with me for ever.... I was spent, Mark's erection wasn't and although he had come deeply and powerfully into me he still tried to ride me, a fruitless task though, and I was almost glad when he realised that also, and was relieved to feel his hardness leave me and feeling my openness expel all of our mixed juices made me feel so nice, a feeling that can not be equaled.. Probably 'lame' and unable to walk, Mark hooked his arms around my neck and legs and carried me to the bed. We could have carried on then, I don't know, but in the satisfaction states Mark scored a big ten..... St Valentine's Day Rub-Out As your key enters the lock I move into place. You open the door and I step into your path. Gently covering your eyes with my fingertips. The scent of wisteria fills your senses. Soft sounds of jazz guitar dance through the air. Leaning close to your ear I whisper, "Trust me," turning you around I slip the silk scarf around your head, covering your eyes. "Just follow my lead and relax, Happy Valentines Day. This is my gift to you." After the knot at the back of your head is finished, I encircle you with my arms, squeezing tight; light kisses on the back of your neck. I turn you back around and take your hands. "Walk with me," I say, moving into the room and closing the door, stopping at the soft furry throw in front of the fireplace. I unbutton your blouse and slip it off your shoulders. Laying it across a close chair, another zip and the skirt you were wearing is in my hands. Placing it in the chair with your blouse. You stand in front of me, in your lacy bra and silky panties. Returning to you, I remove the soft undergarments leaving you standing in all your beauty. A silk blindfold and a smile your only attire. Taking your hands again, my voice rising from the spot I had taken, on my knees, at the side of the rug. "Lay down here and relax," I tell you, slightly pulling your arms to start your movement toward the soft rug under your feet. You stretch out beside me, arms at your sides. I lean over and kiss your cheek and the side of your lips. Moving your hair from your shoulders, I reach for a small glass pitcher of scented oil, slightly heated by a candle flame. Whispering in your ear, "Take yourself to a special place, a beach, or mountains, or a tropical island, anywhere you would like to be, where your mind could be free, your soul could dance and sing out loud." I fill my palms with the oil and begin the smooth strokes along your shoulders and down your arms. Massaging deeply as I return to your arms and shoulders, kneading and rubbing your shoulders and the back of your neck, feeling your tension lifted. Tracing the curve of your shoulders down your back. As needed, I replace the oil that is making your skin glisten in the candlelight. You are a vision and I have to repeatedly stop to admire Gods handy work and marvel at the effort that must have been required to create such perfection. A soft sigh slips from your lips as the muscles begin to respond to my touch. Still sitting at your side, I work my way down to the delicate bow of your lower back, just before it joins with the smooth round globes of your lovely ass. Here I start to pay special attention. As I stroke the smooth skin and squeezing your tight buns into my palms, ever so gently, firmly. Slightly spreading the cheeks of your ass, I abandon the oil and begin to use my tongue to slip along the line between your sweet cheeks. Teasing the skin between your ass and pussy. Slipping inside your ass with ease. You are so relaxed. A deep moan begins in your chest and slips past your lips as my tongue finds its mark. But alas, this is not the goal of this valentine rub and my hands continue the journey down your legs. Massaging and rubbing the back of your thighs, again with the oil, as you like it. I tickle the back of your knees and you jump slightly. Further down to your calves, here I find a challenge, so tight, so stiff. I begin to rub softly and slowly deepening the massage. Kneading and squeezing, rubbing and stroking, I can feel them begin to give in and loosen the grip they had on your comfort. You ankles, feet, and toes fall next. I whisper for you to roll onto your back and again to let yourself relax. Reaching behind you I remove the silk band that was blocking your vision, but in turn warn you, "Please, do not move, let me finish." You can see around the room that there are candles surrounding you and filling almost ever spot imaginable. Almost every horizontal surface has candles. Short, tall, fat, skinny, and all shapes were represented. The sounds of the guitar in the background continue to drift in and out of your ears, the sweet smell of the small white flowers of the wisteria filling the air. I again begin my roaming across your warm skin. The tops of your feet and calves, up to your thighs, as you encircle my neck. Even as relaxed as you have become the muscles in your thighs are still very tense. It again takes an extra effort to get them to surrender, but this they do. Now, in a location that is too hard for me to pass up. Teasing the soft tuft of hair above the meeting place of your thighs. Running my fingers through the hair and blowing softly, my thumbs slipping along the lips and opening the pedals of your sweet treasure. My face so close you can feel the hot breaths that escape from my mouth. My heart is pounding; my tongue lightly slides along the small bud of sensitive flesh hiding in these pedals, its secret place. Raising your hips and pushing yourself onto my face, my tongue again tastes the nectar starting to flow from within. Sliding into the opening, your head drops back and the deep, long, moan fills my ears... But again as wonderful as this slight detour has been, it is off the track, outside the purpose of this rub, so continue on I must. Kissing the recess of your belly button, my hands and fingers again begin their quest. The massage of your breasts almost consumes me with the desire to linger, but I can not, for the end is almost upon me and the reward will be worth the disappointment of not being able to prolong the visits to the warm soft flesh I desire so. Your nipples are pointing at me as though to tell anyone that could see, that I am neglecting them and they are not happy. But the neglect has to continue. Finishing the rub, I kiss the lids of your eyes, the soft skin covering your cheek and finally the lips on the face I adore. Again leaning close to your ear I tell you, "Now for the special part of this gift." I lie beside you, again encircle you with my arms, and hold you until you drift off to sleep. Matching your slow deep breaths, I soon drift to the place where you have traveled.... Happy Valentines Day!! St. Valentine's Day Trip to Switzerland Their last journey together. Dear readers, although this story is offered as a tale of love and devotion, the subject matter is highly controversial. Some might find this story harrowing while others may not approve of the premise. I offer it as a different yet, hopefully, still romantic slant on the usual St Valentine's Day stories. Story: Emma awoke and rose early on the 14th of February for she knew she had a busy day ahead of her. She smiled, inwardly, as she glanced at her sleeping husband who still lay on their matrimonial bed. A bed they had shared over many decades; not always the same bed, of course, but one that they could proclaim as being a place where lovers lie together in harmony. "Oh Harold, I do love you so, and I have your Valentine's card right here," Emma whispered the words searchingly; however, she expected no reply. She moved to her chest-of-drawers and from under the pile of panties and vests produced a small white paper bag. She cringed at the rustling noise as she removed a card whose frontage was decorated with soft cuddly bears, hearts, and pale coloured ribbons. The inside section bore a message in shaky handwriting which read, "To the only man I've ever loved, and the only one I ever will." Harold has always been an old grouch when it comes to cards that mark events which he felt were exploitations and he had little to do with such occasions. He still however always accepted the cards presented to him at Easter, Christmas and on St Valentine's Day. In absence of a return card he would give Emma flowers instead; on St Valentine's Day the flowers were, more often than not, orchids. As if on cue, a knock on the door startled Emma from her daydreaming. She returned to the bedroom, shortly, after answering the call, carrying a solitary orchid in a small vase. She had asked a neighbour to do the chore she knew Harold could no longer perform that to purchase the flower. She placed the vase on Harold's nightstand and bent to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Harold, its beautiful!" The sleeping man's eyes flickered open on sensing his wife's tender lips on his cheek. His eyeballs flashed to the side of their sockets, first left then right. Today he had awoken knowing who and where he was but that seldom was the case, nowadays. Illness had ravaged his mind leaving him bemused and confused for most of the time, and yet there were still moments in time where his memory would return to taunt him and his wife; periods of precious time that grew less frequent with each passing day! Most days, now, he would not recognise his loving wife. Sometimes his objections to her intrusions manifested themselves with accompanying violence. "Who are you woman, go away, leave me alone." He would flay his fists while ranting. On 'good days' Emma and Harold reminisced of earlier times; of their family and outings to the seaside or trips inland to walk through forests and over grassy fields. They loved their English county countryside and, ever the more so, they loved the romantic names that the author, Thomas Hardy, had given to the same area. Harold now spent most of his days in bed and, at the times when he was aware of his surroundings, would love Emma to read from Hardy's novels. His favourite story and yet the saddest, for him, was 'The Mayor of Casterbridge.' That story starts out by relaying the tale of a twenty-one year old hay-trusser who, while besotted with rum-laced furmity, has a row with his wife and then auctions her and their child for five guineas. He is then too ashamed to immediately track down the buyer, a sailor. Although the hay-trusser succeeds in business and later becomes the Mayor he lives with his private shame of what he has done. He does later, partially, repay his debt to his wife and the sailor who bought his wife and child but the Mayor essentially dies a broken man. When Harold had first read that novel he was already well into his marriage to Emma; nevertheless, his mind was then sound and sometimes, when in a reflective mood, wondered if there wasn't a little of 'The Mayor' in him or, indeed, in every man. Had he always been as fair, loving, and caring as he should have been to Emma? Had he, metaphorically, sold her love for a mere five guineas on more than one occasion? The one thing which always reassures him is that Emma's love for him has been and remains tireless! In his more sombre moments, Harold knew that Emma was growing frail and he was becoming more of a burden to her. He also knew of a solution to their ills. He was aware that it would take a lot of convincing before his loving wife would consider honouring his requests. He decided not to broach the subject directly but would try to ease Emma around to his way of thinking; obviously, it would take time and he was reminded that his lucid days were fading fast. Way back in November, last year, Emma had sat in front of her PC and couldn't help but smile at the fact that, at her age, she had only just begun to realise the potential and power of the Internet. Harold had encouraged her to learn to use the computer. Emma's faithful next door neighbour, a much younger woman, had shown her the basics and she had become quite a proficient surfer. Harold set Emma computer orientated tasks to complete, one of which surprised her. That task was for her to research an old 1973 movie, "Soylent Green." Soylent Green: A gruesome science fiction film set in an over populated world where the awareness of food shortages ranked paramount. 'Older people were extinguished' is the barest minimum I need to say; however, in their final moments the elderly were allowed to watch scenes on large screens that depicted tranquillity, peace and harmony. This particular research left Emma first puzzled and then thoughtful as to what Harold was trying to tell her. Further requests and themes of research, from Harold, led Emma to web pages on Swiss clinics; clinics which were 'liberal' when it came to assisted death. Harold later spoke of his desire that on St Valentine's Day he wished to go on a day trip to Switzerland. No more was said on the subject. Harold's tired eyes finally focused on the solitary orchid. He smiled a watery smile through tear filled eyes. "Is it time for our trip?" Emma nodded and then, scarcely above a whisper, replied "Yes, sweetheart today is the day. I'll need to get you ready for our carriage will be here, shortly." The mention of the carriage caused her husband to chuckle childishly. The thought led his mind across fields and along unmade hole-potted roads. He had returned to Hardy's countryside and the carriage would, indeed, be a Fly. He could even hear the snort of the horse that drew the carriage: hear the swish of its tail swotting flies, and smell the leather of the harness as the steed chomped at the bit. His thoughts were edged in shades of green, 'Soylent Green'! "Aye, 'ee must ready me for the journey" he coughed out the sentence using Hardy's old English words whilst trying to raise his self up on weakened elbows. "Best you lay still and let me do my work," snorted his wife as she forcibly returned him to a lying position. "Let me get the washing of you organised." The brief exercise had sapped Harold's strength and so he lay resting quietly until his wife returned with a bowl of warm water, a face cloth, and a towel. It stirred him once more to action. "Please lay still, Harold, things are bad enough as they are without 'ee making it worse." After placing the washing materials on the floor, Emma rolled her husband first one way then the other while peeling off his soiled pyjama top and bottoms. She then commenced to wash his face. Softly yet skilfully she cleaned around his eyes and nose. A chill ran through her body; not one of foreboding but one of love and affection. Although Harold's eyes were closed she could feel their warmth. She could recall the steely strength and resolve those same blue eyes had shown whenever they had faced adversity. She sighed and murmured her affection, "Strong features, strong man." "My young lion" she continued in admiration. Her thoughts flew to Hemingway's 'The Old Man and The Sea' and equated Harold to the old man's dream of a young lion frolicking on the beach. A tear trickling down her cheek brought her back to today's reality. She washed his once strong hands, shoulders, and back. Emma wished that he had the strength to embrace her now as he had done so many times in the past. When she touched near his groin Emma felt his limp manhood flinch. She smiled for it had been quite some time since that had happened. She paused to see if he wanted pleasure. His growing hardness was his tacit reply. Her strokes were slow, gentle and deliberate. She did pause to wonder what others might think of her loving actions. Dismissing all negatives, after all it was an act of pure love, she continued until Harold reached fruition. In Emma's eyes such sexual acts were the exchanges that only true lovers share; especially, today of all days. The signs of satisfaction on Harold's face made his wife have second thoughts."We don't have to go on the Swiss trip for we could stay here at home!" "No, the time has come the Walrus said..." recited her husband as much in jest as anything else. "Are you sure? Yes, dear Emma, I'm sure." After finishing the washing of his body Emma struggled but managed to slip on Harold a clean pair of pyjamas. Leaving him alone for a moment she left the room to retrieve two small packages and a glass of water. She lifted and cradled her darling Harold in one arm while offering him the water and the first of two pills from one package. Once the first pill had been administered she gave him the second. Harold made the effort to cuddle Emma as she, in turn, cuddled him. The last question she ever asked of him was, 'Why on St Valentine's Day?' He replied "It's the day when lovers pledge their undying love for another; openly or in secret! I love you Emma with all my heart. Now, please read 'The Mayor' to me" Emma read until, she knew her husband was well on his 'Day Trip to Switzerland'. She rose and took a small suitcase from under the bed. The case was full of St Valentine's Day cards; one for every year of their 55-years of marriage. As Harold had discarded the cards so she had stored them away. She thumbed through her treasured memories recounting the precise year in which she had given each one; a true chronicle of her loving marriage. Climbing back on the bed, she took the two pills from the second package and with a sip of water, between each one, swallowed them. Emma took hold of Harold's hand, closed her eyes, and, in her mind's eye, started walking after the Fly carriage that seemed to be waiting just a short distance down the lane. She knew that soon she would be heading for the coast and along with her young Lion should be frolicking on the beach. **** Dear Reader, if I've raised emotion, of any kind, in you then I've accomplished my task. All comments and votes appreciated.