5 comments/ 16040 views/ 6 favorites Kim's Valentine's Day Surprise By: legerdemer Author's notes: This is an edited version of the original story, which was submitted in a rush to the Valentine's Day contest. My warmest thanks to Wylderos, the generous and perceptive reader who found most of the weak spots but was gentle in pointing them out. Any remaining mistakes are my own fault. ~~~~~ "Here goes...something," Kim said, as she sucked in air deeply, trying to fill her lungs. She was only moderately successful. She closed her eyes briefly, then pulled open the door to the club, moving from the nondescript parking lot lights into the club's warmth. Inside, she was enveloped in the blues and purples of soft neon bouncing off the dark-painted walls, their actual color hard to make out. She walked up to a small lectern where a gorgeous, perfectly made-up twenty-something hostess sat, chatting easily with a dark-haired man who looked to be in his forties. The hostess immediately smiled at her and subtly looked her up and down, not letting any judgement, if she'd made any, show. The man's eyes seemed to follow her as well, his expression verging on curious. Kim pulled her shoulders up and straightened her spine, deciding it was too late back out now. "I should be on the guest list, I signed up earlier today, on the web site," she said a little breathlessly, and gave her name. "Ah yes, of course, you're right here. You're... alone tonight? Your... husband, is it, he's not with you? Kim shook her head. "No, not my husband. My ex-boyfriend. No, we're no longer together. I wasn't sure what I owe." "Nothing, actually. The entry is free for single women. I see you haven't visited us in a couple of months. You may remember, the bar is through that door, and if you've brought any alcoholic beverages, just give them to the bartender. There're some finger foods right there, feel free to help yourself. And the play rooms are upstairs. Welcome back, we're so glad you joined us again." As Kim listened, she was aware of the man now openly appraising her with a calm, confident, maybe even thoughtful gaze. Neither predatory nor judgmental - a rarity in her experience. These people must be great at hiding their judgments, she thought. Good thing, or she'd have bolted. Her courage was a thin veneer, barely covering her discomfort and fear. She nodded at the hostess and started to turn toward the entrance to the bar. "We have a coatroom, if you'd like. We keep the club pretty warm..." "Thanks, not yet. Maybe later," Kim said, hugging her arms across her open coat a little tighter, and moving away from the hostess and her companion. She advanced through the door to the room that held the bar, the dance floor, and several large screen TVs playing porn flicks. The beat of the music was catchy enough but the dance floor was still empty. She wasn't ready yet to display herself publicly, so she turned toward the bar and handed over two mini-bottles of single malt whisky to the bartender. He looked them over and grinned appreciatively. "Good taste. How'd you like those?"
 "Thanks," she answered, tilting her head ever so slightly in his direction to acknowledge his friendliness. "One ice cube, please." He grabbed a glass, added an ice cube, and poured the contents of one of the bottles in it, then slid the glass across the bar to her. "A little liquid courage for you. Cheers, my dear," he said, and smiled broadly at her before moving down the bar to fill other orders. She sipped her drink slowly, trying to gather her courage about her. What a weird thing she'd done, coming to a sex club on her own. She was the only woman on her own so far, and though there were a few single men, most of the other patrons were in small mixed groups of three, four, or five. Low conversations hummed underneath the heavy drum machine beat, with the occasional peals of laughter. She discerned some of the voices were clearly relaxed while others were anxious and seemed slightly desperate. She didn't want to admit her anxiety out loud, though she felt it in her tight shoulders. She started playing a game with herself, trying to match voices she heard without looking to the people around her. And slowly, she felt her muscles beginning to unknot. She felt movement behind her, a light touch on her waist that disappeared almost as soon as she'd become aware of it, as the man who'd been talking to the hostess at the door leaned on the bar next to her. "Is the coat for warmth or is it armor?" he asked, getting right to the point. She tensed, then forced herself to relax. His voice had been soothing and straightforward, calm enough to dissipate some of her reaction. He had an easy-going smile and pleasing, not flashy, good looks. "A bit of both, I suppose. In truth." At least she owed him a civil answer, as uncomfortable as she was. "May I take it then, your coat?" "Uh, no, thanks, but I will take it off... soon," she smiled tentatively. Ummm, do you come here often?" "I suppose. A couple of times a month. And you?" "I've only come a couple of times total. It's been a while..." He gave her a good-humored smirk, and she realized, embarrassed, of the double entendre. "Is this your first time alone?" he asked. She paused for a few seconds, deciding how to answer, and settling on the truth rather than a snappy comeback. Her snaps nearly always sounded bitchy and mean. She had no reason to lie, though the question was entirely too personal for her. "Yes, my first time alone," she admitted. "My boyfriend and I split up, shortly after our last visit here." His eyes, so dark in the low light of the room that the pupils were entirely lost in the irises, watched her intently, as if trying to read her. He didn't seem to be on the make, or if he was, he was being either very subtle or very cautious. Measuring her in some way she couldn't easily define. "Did your break-up have something to do with the club?" She nodded. "Yes. A... misunderstanding that, well, we just couldn't resolve. I suppose we should never have come..." "His idea or yours?" She shrugged, a defensive gesture, she knew. As if she was guilty of some disgusting sin.... "I thought it was his. He said it was mine." "Ah, the old 'he said, she said... But you're back, so something must have attracted you." "I'm not so sure. I suppose it's a bit like... like that cliché about falling off a horse and wanting to get back in the saddle before the fear completely overruns the pleasure." "I see." Did he really? "Umm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I did, though, didn't I?" he continued. She gave him a small smile, acknowledging his apology. "Will you come and dance? They're playing one of my favorites, Whiskey For My Men. Toby Keith is very funny, not what you'd normally hear in a club like this." "I don't know..." "Aw, come on. You've finished your drink. And really, it's a beautiful, fun song." He pulled her gently up, waiting for her step in front of him, and when she did, he casually slipped her coat off and draped it over the back of an empty stool. When she'd turned to face the D.J.'s corner, he placed his hand low in the middle of her back, that warm protective gesture that only one or perhaps two men had ever used with her. This one's touch was firm, calming, as if he was simply an attentive host. He placed his hands on her hips and led her into an easy Western swing routine, leading her with what seemed to be his trademark soft pushes and pulls. He guided her expertly through a twirl with natural rather than practiced moves. "My name is Adam. What's yours?" "Kim. Pleased to meet you, Adam."
 "Thank you for the dance, Kim," and he pulled her in for a light kiss, a peck chaste enough that she really couldn't call it sexual, couldn't object and retreat. "Regretfully, I need to make the rounds upstairs for a bit," he said. "Would you like to come with me, or will you stay here?" She drew back a couple of steps, unsure. Upstairs were the sex rooms, of course, the rooms where everything... X-rated went on. "Not yet. I think perhaps I'll have my second drink."

"I'll be back down in not too long. I'll look for you. Would you wait for me?" What could she say to that? He was going to go up for a quickie, then was going to come back down and chat her up again, take her for another round on the dance floor? All she could muster was a noncommittal shrug. "Kim, I'm sorry. I didn't explain," he said, stepping close enough to her she could feel his breath expel through his nostrils and placing his hand on hers. "I work here. All I'll be doing is checking that everyone is OK upstairs, and that no one needs anything. OK?" He'd read her body language so well she was embarrassed. He didn't owe any explanation at all. She must have come across as petulant, needy. 
 "Yes, of course. I'll wait," she said, with barely a smile. ~~~~~~ A few months earlier. "Kim, we'll go if you want to." "I don't know, Greg... I thought you wanted to." "Yes, it will be fun. Different." "We've talked about this, several times before, but I'm still not sure."

"What's your worry?" "I don't know, exactly..." And yet she did, although she couldn't bring herself to voice it. She wanted to show him how important he was to her, that only he mattered, that she could be adventurous and stretch her comfort zone to please him. They'd been having a difficult time lately. He had accused her of cheating because he'd found some flirtatious emails with a colleague he knew had been a former lover. Nothing she said could convince him that it had been innocent, meaningless flirtation rather than the worst spin he gave the incident. But his jealous streak worried her. He'd convinced himself that she had cheated and she could do nothing to change his mind. It was ridiculous: she'd had plenty of opportunities over the years they'd been together, and had taken none of them, and this had come up all of a sudden. She'd dressed for him carefully: she had shaved herself all over in her afternoon shower and slathered her favorite lotion all over, then rolled on thigh high stockings, lining up the seams in back. A short, silky sleeveless dress with a splattering of sparkly decorations over the straight collar. The dress just covered her arse, and the black lacy boy short underwear she'd worn had already made her aware of how little material covered her private parts. The smoke-gray thin stockings cinched her thighs, sending teasing frissons further northwards. She'd added some light make-up and mascara, just enough lipstick to highlight her full lips. She'd thought about putting in contacts, but settled on her black-rimmed glasses. They'd had a leisurely light supper, started by sharing a dozen oysters and wine. Had talked about this and that, movies and books and trips they'd taken and trips they'd like to take next. They'd taken a walk in the park, the weather still mid-summer sultry. Suitably late, they'd driven to the club in her car, and had taken their time drinking the red wine they'd brought and dancing to the alternative rock sounds of the club's D.J. There weren't many people in yet, and he'd pulled close behind her and pressed himself to her ass. "Go to the bathroom and take your undies off," he said, breathing by her ear. She'd looked at him, seen that he was entirely serious, and went to do as he'd asked. In the bathroom, as she slid the undergarment off, she chanced a look behind her in the full length mirror. Amused, she had bent over further and seen the shadow between her ass cheeks and the already glistening lips of her pussy. She could not resist running her finger lightly along her plump vulva, dipping in just slightly and bringing the finger up to lick the moisture off. She bent over and took several pictures of herself, pulling at one cheek with her black-painted nails. She looked through the pictures, picking out the best and texting it to him. "Mmmm," she'd purred when she'd returned, rubbing her hips against his hardening member. "Thanks for the picture," he said, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips, using the old world gesture as a cover to sniff the scent on her fingers. "Nicely slutty! Where are they?" She gave him her underwear, and he took the lace and brought them to his nose, breathing in deeply. "Very nice aroma. Let's go upstairs, sexy. You've been teasing me long enough tonight. I can't wait to get at what's underneath that dress of yours." She was getting wetter, and let him lead her up. No one was upstairs yet, and she felt mild relief. He pulled her into one of the three-sided rooms and pushed her onto her knees on the bed in front of him. He ran his hands up and down her dress, pushing the silken fabric up her thighs, rubbed it back and forth across her now-naked buttocks. The soft silk contrasted with his forceful hands. Sliding them to her front, his fingers found the buttons holding the top of her dress closed and undid them one by one until the dress was opened down to her waist. He slid his hands in and cupped her breasts, while rubbing his pelvis against her bottom. He pulled the lace of the bra down and bunched the material under each breast, pinching her sensitive nipples and making her moan. He made her feel voluptuous and wanton, a floozy in an old Western brothel playing with her gentleman john. She pushed herself further into his crotch, unable to restrain herself. She heard him unzip his fly, freeing his shaft and rubbing it against her moist folds. He pushed the silk of her dress up her hips again and ran the swollen flesh of his cock between her ass cheeks. Just as he was about to push into her, she noticed he was distracted and exchanging words in a low voice she couldn't make out. He patted her rump and asked, "Do you want to include him in our play?" She turned her head to the right and saw a man sitting on the edge of the bed opposite theirs, looking at them, and rubbing himself. He'd directed his question to Greg. "What would you like, Kim?" "It's up to you, lover," she said, preoccupied less with the intruder than with returning Greg's focus to her. "What is he asking?" "He wants to know if you'd suck him." She thought about it for a few seconds only, then nodded, assuming Greg wouldn't have asked if he didn't want her to say yes. "I will if you want me to." Greg must have agreed, because the man scooted onto the bed next to her head on his knees, taking his cock out in front of her mouth. As he got closer, all Kim could see is the man's strong thighs and his clean-shaven member. She'd never touched another man even remotely sexually ever since she and Greg had started dating, years ago. She wanted to look at Greg while she asked him again if this is what he truly wanted, but he only patted her thigh. The man's cock was stretched toward her, and she barely had to lean forward to take it between her lips. He was bigger than Greg, and forceful but not in a bad way. As she sucked him harder, she could hear his moans of approval, and felt a new hand insinuating itself between her legs, rough-tipped fingers seeking out the dripping wet heat of her labia. Soon the hand went away and was replaced by Greg's cock again, rubbing insistently against her, entering and sawing into her. She wondered what Greg was thinking and how much he liked this, but soon her thoughts were drowned out again by the cock moving in and out of her mouth. The man placed one of his hands on her head, not pushing or pulling but simply holding her, making the contact. "God, so good, you're so good at that," he groaned, his voice deep and thick with desire. "Oh, yes, please, more." She snaked a hand behind his balls, rubbing them while the other squeezed the root of his shaft upwards as she swirled her tongue around his glans, taking him deeper. "I'm so close to cumming. Do you want me to pull out?" She had been so immersed in the act itself and simultaneously feeling the degradation and the power of giving a stranger a blow job while her boyfriend watched and used her cunt that she hesitated, not knowing what to say. She and Greg hadn't discussed this at all, it hadn't even come up. "It's up to Greg, he decides," she finally said, around the man's cock. She felt the slight dip in the mattress as the man reoriented himself and directed his question to Greg. She didn't hear the answer, and couldn't see behind her. But she couldn't stop, the lust coursing through her now, the decadence of being impaled on Greg's cock while sucking in another man's. Her lips tightened against the thick, smooth shaft, and she rolled the balls between her fingers with a firm grip, then rubbed his taint, pushing in towards his prostate. The groaned "I'm cumming!" warned her just before she felt his cream erupt into her, the cock pulsing forcefully, expelling the thick fluid that coated her mouth and smeared her lips. "Ahhhhhha, god, yes! Thank you. That was so good, you were so good. So lovely, thank you, both!" The owner of the cock retreated the same way he'd arrived, scooting back on his knees. The mattress moved again as the weight lifted off the bed, while she let her head drop helplessly, already her mouth missing being filled. She heard Greg zip himself up, then he pulled her up roughly. "Let's go," he said, his voice strained and hoarse. She wasn't sure what was going on, still dazed from the experience, but straightened and pulled down her dress to cover herself, buttoning it up. They walked out into the corridor and down the stairs, and collected their coats. "Leaving us?" the hostess asked. "Yes, thank you." She heard Greg's voice, surprisingly curt. Her fingers were having a hard time guiding the key into the car's keyhole, but she managed to open her door and unlock the passenger's side as well, Greg getting in silently beside her. As she backed the car out of the parking space and turned it around towards the exit, she felt Greg uncoil, and his hand lashed out at her head. "You slut! You fucking slut!" "Wha...? What the hell, Greg? Don't hit me!" "Slut! Did he come in you? Did you let him come in your mouth?" "I thought it's what you wanted!" "Did he come in your mouth? I can't believe it! You fucking cunt! You slut!" "Greg, I didn't do anything you didn't want me to do! I asked you! I told you it was up to you!" "Slut! Couldn't you tell I wasn't even hard? I couldn't get it up to fuck you, watching him fucking your mouth!" "What? I couldn't see you. You were in me!" "I wasn't half hard, you fucking cunt! Whore!" The shock as much as the force of his fist hitting her head again brought the tears and made the car swerve as she flinched to try to get away from him. She couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't say anything other than repeat what seemed obvious to her. "I thought it's what you wanted! We talked about it before we went to the club!!" She was trembling and crying, the tears staining her glasses and making it even harder to see. Luckily there was little traffic this time of night. What would she do? What could she do? She couldn't go home with him like this. The street lights took on distorted shapes, the reds, greens and yellows smearing up and down from their center. They were closing in on their house, taking the exit ramp, when she was surprised by another hit, this time in her side. Luckily the awkward angle dulled the force of the blow, but it was enough that she swerved again. And that hit was followed by another, this time to her chin. "What the fuck are you doing, Greg? Please, stop. You're going to get us both killed!" She barely made it off the exit ramp without crashing into the curb, and was about to pull to the side when he barked, "Keep going, don't stop here. Too close to the exit." Kim's Valentine's Day Surprise She was shaking and needed to stop the car. She turned onto the first street to the right and pulled on the side. As she sat helpless, crying and trembling, he jumped out of the passenger's seat and came around to the driver's side and pulled her door open, grabbed her arm and started to pull her out of the car. "You are a whore! A cunt! I can't believe you did that to me!" he screamed, hitting out at her and catching the corner of her glasses. They tumbled off her face into the street, and as he stepped forward trying to grab her out of the car, she heard the crunch. "Did what, Greg? You were there, you were controlling the whole scene. I asked you... I did nothing you didn't tell me to do... Please, please, I need those glasses, I can barely see without them, I can't drive." "You fucking whore!" "Sir, you need to stop or I will call the cops! I live right there, and can hear you all the way in my house. Ma'am, are you alright? Sir, please, step away from her and stop hitting her!" She heard the stern voice and for a minute it didn't register whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Whoever it was, she couldn't believe her luck, couldn't imagine what would have happened if the voice hadn't interfered. If she had not been driving she might have been able to defend herself against the blows, or at least ward them off, but as it was, there was nothing she could have done without getting them both into an accident. "We're OK, we're OK. I'll stop. She's fine..."
 "Sir, she is not fine. You were hitting her. Will you stop hitting her? I will call the cops..." "No, no, I'll stop. I don't know, I'm... I'll stop, I won't hit her anymore. Kim, I'm sorry, I won't hit you anymore. Here, here are your glasses, I'll try to straighten them out." "Sir, please, step away from her. Ma'am, would you like me to call the cops?" the voice turned from him and addressed her. "No, I..., thanks, no, not if he stops hitting me... it's OK, I just... I just want to leave. I need to go, I can't do this, I can't..." "Sir?" "Listen, please, don't call the cops, I'll leave. Kim, I'll just walk home, it's not far. Please, I'm sorry, Kim. It'll be OK, I won't hit you again. Bring the car home. The walk will help calm me down, and we'll talk." "I can't, Greg. This is the third time this has happened, I'm done. I can't do this anymore, I can't. Thank you, ma'am, thank you for stopping him." "Are you sure you don't want me to call the cops? Sir, I took some pictures... Please, do not hit her again, or I will call the cops." The voice was firm, brooking no contest. "I'm so sorry, Kim. Please, come home..." Kim started the car and eased it into drive and away from the curb, avoiding Greg as well as her savior, whose face she could not bring herself to look up to. She was still trembling and cold from the shock of the incident. She heard him yell after her, "Come home, Kim. Please, we'll talk. I'm sorry..." She couldn't think yet where to go, but could not bring herself to go home. She could barely see, the bent glasses perching crookedly on her nose, her head throbbing from his blows. She didn't have any friends close enough to go to. She doubted she could face anyone she knew at this point, feeling as she did. Eventually she reached a motel and parked. It was ten minutes before she could find the strength to get out of the car. She'd lucked out and found a coat she kept in the back seat, though the coat did not cover the ripped stockings and she was sure her face must be frightening. Still, she had no choice. At least she had her wallet. She needed to find a bed and figure out what to do after she'd gotten some sleep. ~~~~~~~ "Kim? Kim...?" The hand on her shoulder startled her, and she jerked her head up to meet the eyes holding a mixture of deep concern and puzzlement. Adam. She couldn't help closing her eyes to clear the memories that had taken over. She should leave. She was functioning nowhere near normal. She wasn't sure what she'd been thinking when she'd come here. She felt foolish, she should have known better. The memories were covered only by the thinnest of veils, and had come roaring to the surface. "I'm sorry, I'm... I was just thinking. I'll be all right. I should go home, though." "Wait, Kim. You're in no shape to be going anywhere, especially not driving." He had come around stood behind her stool, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. The contact with his body and his heat calmed her for some reason, though she couldn't think why. She didn't know this man from Adam. Except he was Adam! Gads, whatever was she doing here? "Kim, I can't let you leave, you're not safe. Even better, please, would you come with me? I'd like to take you to a quieter place, where you can think in peace. I promise, I won't compromise you in any way." One thing he was certainly right about, and that was that she couldn't drive right now. Did she trust him enough to let him lead her out of the club? She checked that she had her phone, and nodded. She was simply exhausted and spent, any energy she'd had entirely drained from her by the memory of that unbelievably horrible night. How had she let herself get into that situation? It made no sense. Not in a million years. He tugged on her gently, helping ease her off the barstool, one arm still wrapped around her shoulder, the other grabbing her purse. Slowly, he led her to the stairs leading up. When she realized their destination, she stopped. "What? Where are we going? I won't..." "It's OK, Kim, we're not going into any of the scening rooms. There's a private area upstairs that's very quiet. Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do..." She looked at him, puzzled - what was he talking about? His eyes seemed sincere, although he didn't explain farther and she wasn't up to insisting on an explanation. She gave in and followed him slowly up the stairs. Strangely, she didn't feel threatened by him. They walked past the rooms, unnoticed by the people engaging in various sexual games, down a short corridor she had barely noticed earlier. When they reached the door at the end, he reached into the pocket of his black jeans and extracted a key and opened the door, then closed it softly behind them. The door immediately muffled the sounds. The corridor continued for another ten paces or so and spilled into a larger hallway. They crossed and entered what looked like a large loft, moonlight spilling into the room through a large plate glass window. "Where are we?" "My place." He led her to a couch, eased her down into it, and draped a soft chenille blanket over her. "Please, relax. Let me get you something to drink? I think I'll make us both some hot tea." "Thank you, that sounds perfect. Warm." She sat and felt the contrast as the muscles in her shoulders, arms and stomach unclenched. "So... you're the club's caretaker? Is that why you live here?" "Caretaker of sorts. Owner, actually," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Owner," she repeated in a soft voice. "Oh..." He watched her, wrapped in the safety of the blanket and sinking back into her thoughts, while he puttered in the open kitchen, filling an electric kettle with water and flipping the on-switch. She lost track of his movements as he walked behind the couch to a wall, and electronic music filled the room at low volume. When he next approached the couch, he was carrying two steaming cups, one of which he set next to her on a glass end table. "I put a cube of sugar in it, I think you can use the sweet." "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I am sorry to put you out. I don't know what came over me. I'll be OK soon, drink the tea, and be on my way. I don't mean to interrupt your evening. Night." "Kim. You're no bother. The club is all right, and there are enough staff milling around that I don't need to worry about it. But I do worry about you, and what happened down there." She nodded. "What were you thinking about?" "The last time I was here, with Greg." "Did you meet anyone? Recognize anyone?" She furrowed her forehead, concentrating on his facial features. "No. Should I?" He shrugged. "What? I didn't meet anyone. I came with Greg and left with him. We didn't talk to anyone..." He nodded and left it at that. "Was that your first time having some sort of... sexual interaction with another man, not your partner? In front of him?" "Yeah... it was. How did you know?" "Logic, really. You'd been here before, without incident, but the last time, something disturbing happened. Right?" She nodded, and he continued. "And most people seek out a sex club to have out of the ordinary experiences. Venture out beyond their comfort zone." "Yea. Greg complained once in a while about boring sex. That I had fallen out of love with him, since the sex wasn't as exciting as it had been at the beginning." "Had you talked about it before? About what might happen? About someone joining you?" "I thought we had, but I guess not enough. Why do you ask?" He couldn't possibly know what had happened after they'd left. How could he? "There was something... not right about the way you two left that night. I pay attention to stuff like that. He was almost pushing you out of the club. It didn't look right, the way you were walking. And he looked extremely angry. It's important to me, as the club owner, that people have a good time. It didn't look like you two were happy when you left. It looked as if something bad might have been happening. Unfortunately, I didn't react fast enough. What happened?" She shook her head. She didn't want to go over it again. 'Was that what you were thinking about when I came back earlier, downstairs? Found you crying? You looked so miserable, Kim. So lost." She felt her eyes start tearing again, shrugged, looked around for something and didn't find it. He rose immediately and returned with a box of Kleenex. "Will you tell me what happened after you left?" "No, I can't. You don't want to know."

"Was he violent?" She didn't answer. Couldn't. But her silence must have been as clear as words. "You don't need to spell it out. He got violent, didn't he?" "Yeah, you might say so," she said, shivering a bit as she remembered that night. "It could have been a lot worse. When we stopped the car, someone heard us fighting and kept him from hitting me again. She threatened to call the police. He stopped eventually." She took a deep breath. "The scariest part was that he was hitting me while I was driving. I could have crashed the car. He'd never done that before, in the car." She waited, but Adam said nothing for a while, though he placed his arm around her, gentle and protective at the same time. "Have you gone back to him?" She shook her head. "No, I couldn't. I haven't been back. I just couldn't stay." "Good. He'd gotten violent before?" She was so ashamed to have been weak, not to have fought back. "He could get extremely jealous. It was the third time. And the worst." "That couldn't have been your fault. You might have misunderstood each other, but there's no excuse to assault someone for something like that. Something you had talked about and planned together." "I'm... Adam, please. I don't want to talk about it again. At least not now. It's just too soon. And I don't think I can talk about it with you." She shifted in her chair, hunching her shoulders, embarrassed. In reality, she didn't know why she'd come back to the club. Unless it really was in hope to find him. He scooted closer to her and embraced her, his arms around the blanket. His touch was comforting, calm. The complete opposite of demanding. His eyes were dark, nearly black, though in the brighter lights of his living room she could see some flecks of gold brightening them. Most importantly, they were accepting. Slowly she let her head rest on his shoulder, and he shifted her head to his chest, gaining more comfort for them both. Soon she let herself drift to sleep. Dreamless, the deepest, most restful sleep since she'd left the house she'd shared with Greg. ~~~~~~~ She woke from a relaxed sleep a bit disoriented until the previous night's events came back to her. She needed to leave. It was Valentine's Day, and she was sure that Adam must have plans. She, on the other hand, had none. Some Irish whiskey and a movie on Netflix after dinner. And maybe a date with her vibrator. "Good morning, Kim. How do you feel?" His voice, coming from behind her shoulder into her ear, was relaxed and unruffled, his breath a light caress on her ear. "Nice, really. I must have overslept, I'm so sorry. I'll get out of your way." "Get out of my way? What do you mean? You're not in my way." "I'm sure you must have plans, and lots of things to do. What time is it anyway?" "It's about 10. And the only plans I have are, hopefully, to entertain you. If you'll let me, that is." "Adam, really, that's very kind, but you don't have to. I don't want to interfere or intrude on anything."

"Seriously, Kim. I have no plans. I'm not seeing anyone, I have no one to spend Valentine's Day with, and there's no one else I'd rather spend it with than you. Would you do me the honor of joining me?" He wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in warmth. His voice seemed so sincere that she hesitated a few seconds, then nodded. It was enough for him to exclaim, "Great! Done! Unless you don't want to spend Valentine's Day with me..." "It would be lovely, though it will make my vibrator jealous," she said, not sure whether that detail was really necessary at this point. But she couldn't resist interjecting the tongue-in-cheek comment, and was relieved to see his smile. "Ah. Well, I'll make it up to him somehow. They're built extra tough to take rejection well, you know." She giggled a bit, and relaxed in his arms. 
 "OK. I do have plans for you, you naughty girl. Let's get dressed and do some food shopping. In particular, for some chocolate. I'm afraid this bachelor rather fits the stereotype of the empty fridge." "Well, this chocoholic approves! Would you mind if I use your shower?" "Not at all. It's just down that way. Let me get you some clean towels and all that." ~~~~~~~ The day unfolded like something between a first date and a Sunday among twenty other Sundays they might have spent together. He told her about working at a sex club, and regaled her with stories from the sexually charged to the ludicrous to the completely absurd. She told him about her own profession and its challenges. They exchanged stories about personalities they'd both run into - the asinine and the sublime. For the several hours they'd spent together, she had let herself enjoy the day without overthinking things or thinking about Greg and the mess their relationship had ended in. With a car full of groceries, few of which could be considered staple foods, they returned to his car. "Could I talk you into swinging by my apartment briefly, so I can grab a clean change of clothes? I'd feel much better. It's not too far," Kim asked. "Of course not, be happy to. With one condition..." "What's that, Adam?" "I'd like to pick your clothes to wear." She narrowed her eyes a tad at him, then said, "OK. I'm afraid you'll be rather disappointed in my wardrobe." "I'm sure I'll find at least a few things I'd love to see you in. The fewer the better, in general, but it would be nice to have some playful, sexy things to start the day in." At her apartment, she watched him surreptitiously as he looked around, eyeing her place without saying anything. It was a studio in an older but central neighborhood where a lot of university students lived. In fact, they had run into a couple of her floor mates, and she'd told him that late at night and early in the morning she'd been woken by moans and furniture rhythmically hitting the wall next to her bed. She did not tell him that she'd sometimes dreamt of introducing herself to her neighbors and joining them in their frolicking. That was simply evidence of her imagination gone wild. Perhaps Greg had been right and it was her own damn fault she was randy. Adam asked her to point him in the direction of her closet and chest of drawers and she watched him go through her things while she checked her email. It felt entirely out of character, a little dirty and exhibitionist to watch him go through her lingerie drawers so efficiently, sifting through the piles of soft, silky underthings and putting a few items on top of the chest of drawers. When he reached the black garter belt with the little pearl-white bows, he smiled and added it to the collection. He ran his hand across the thigh-high fishnet stockings and fingered the lace, then picked out a pair to add to the pile. Next he moved to her closet and easily slid the hangers from one side to the other, looking at each hanging garment briefly. She was afraid he wouldn't find anything he'd like her to wear, but he stopped at a couple of black skirts, one of them with a slit up one side, the other schoolgirl-short with a flap and a couple of pleats and buckles. He moved past the shirts, as if he hadn't seen any he liked, but then, going back to her lingerie drawer, he picked out a soft nearly see-through mesh T-shirt with a low V-neck and added that to the pile, along with a skimpy black tank top. "Mmm, where do you keep your shoes?" 

She pointed him to the closet near the front door, and watched as he picked up a couple, turning them around to look at the heels and examine their silhouette. But he left all the shoes behind for a pair of tall nubuck leather boots, with high but not outrageous heels. "I bet these look outstanding on you," he smiled. "OK, I think we're set," he told her. "Do you have a small bag for these?" She gave him one and he slid some of her clothing into it, leaving a few items out. "If you don't mind, I'd like to put these on you," he said, pointing to what he'd left out. She knew she blushed easily, but he took the cake with his comment - she felt the red advancing both upward and downward, reaching her cheeks, her neck, and the top of her breasts. She watched him for a few beats, then simply followed his invitation as he pointed to the sofa bed in the corner. He looked her up and down slowly, his eyes searing her, and reached for the buttons on her shirt to undo them. When she tried to take over, he moved her fingers away, pushing them gently to the side, and shook his head. "I'd like to do it, if you don't mind." He smoothed her shirt off her shoulders, running his hands lightly across her skin, keeping his eyes on hers. He inserted two fingers below the bra straps and followed them down to the cups, then dipped the fingers below the lace that enfolded her globes. His thumbs swept first across the skin revealed by the cups, then below. When he swooped across her erect nipples, she drew her breath in sharply and closed her eyes, letting the feeling and heat take her over. Just a quick flick, a tease, and he brought his hands down below the band that cinched her chest under her breasts along her stomach, circled her navel, then farther down and out, to her hips. "I like your bra. I'll leave this one on," he whispered. He pulled her tight skirt down and helped her step out of it. Bringing the backs of his hands together across the expanse of skin, his knuckles light and just under the top edge of her black panties. His hands turned and the thumbs now reached down, another swoop along the sensitive skin above her mound, then over it, both thumbs meeting just over the fleshy lips and dipping into the seeping moisture. It was he who closed his eyes now, briefly, as her hips jutted forward against him, encouraging his thumbs to dip farther in. Watching her again, he closed the distance between his thumbs, pushing her labia together and apart, dipping in, then beginning to circle her clit, then pulling it up and pushing in with soft but insistent motions. Kim's Valentine's Day Surprise He pushed her gently down onto the edge of the sofa bed, and outlined her legs, one at a time, from the juncture between her thighs and pelvis down to the knee and below, down her calf and to the foot. He enclosed her foot with his powerful fingers, kneading her instep and pulling on her toes, releasing the tension that had accumulated there. She had not put on any stockings at his apartment, and now he reached for one of the fishnet thigh-highs he'd set aside, gathered it in his hands, and slipped it over her toes. While looking up at her, he slowly, ever so gently, smoothed it up her calf, over her knee and up her thigh. She was bracing herself up with her hands on the edge of the bed, but now she brought her hands to his shoulders, leaning lightly on him as he kneeled in front of her. He adjusted the wide band of elastic lace around her thigh, running his knuckles unnecessarily high and close to the heat seemingly emanating from her sex but keeping just short of her nether lips. She felt the moisture, and saw a bit of the glistening juice on his thumb as he reached in and out of her cunt. He repeated the round trip down and up her other leg, then encouraged her to spread her knees wider with his thumbs pressing against her inner thighs. Both thumbs now found her clit again and circled, fingerpads almost but not quite meeting, leaving her needy and pushing against him. He refused to give her the satisfaction she was seeking. He settled back on his heels and looked at her cunt lips, his eyes nearly level with the fleshy mound. "May I?" he asked her, a whisper. "Yes please, Adam." He leaned forward and simply breathed out through his nostrils right over her mound, then lowered his lips to her own moist ones. She thrust against him, seeking to grind against his mouth, against his teeth, which grazed upwards to the nub that emerged, stiff, from its cloaking. Then she felt his tongue sweep upwards, dipping between the wet lips into the opening, picking up the thick viscous juices on his tongue, and up and around her clit, again and again and again. "It's the least I can do, to return the favor," he spoke and brought his mouth up to her own, smearing her own juices over her full lips and her nose. She opened her eyes fully. "What?" "Uh, nothing..." "Please, Adam, just a little more..." "Hmmm," he said, the vibrations rumbling into her core, "no, not now. I'm going to like thinking of you as needy and oozing as we drive. Thank you, Kim, for your letting me tease you. Very soon, I will please you completely, I promise," he smiled. Oh, damn him and his male control fantasies, she thought. But she'd wait for now; had no choice. She watched as he unfolded himself from his crouched position and brought over her boots, unzipping the side zippers, slipping each foot into a boot, caressing the instep and finally zipping them up. They reached just below her kneecap, the strap of leather he buckled around the top of her calf cinching the boots a little tighter. Then, his hands on her thighs, he looked at her and asked, "Ready?" With a light slap on her hips, he stood in front of her and leveraged her up by pulling on her arms. Finally, he helped her smooth down her skirt and pulled on the thin mesh shirt over the lace bra. "I can't go out like this, Adam. I'm flashing too much skin!" "Hmmm, not really, but I suppose, for the general public. Too bad it's not dark yet. Do you have a shawl, or a light coat?" She grabbed her black coat - her armor - and put it on, and with a final look around, she locked the apartment door behind them and they returned to his car. They didn't talk during the drive back to his apartment above the club. She was too on edge, and assumed he wanted to keep the suspense up. "Is it open tonight?" "The club? No, not Sundays. Not even for Valentine's Day." "Religious?" "No, not I. Just too few clients on Sundays. People tend to vege out most Sunday evenings. Football, family, whatever. Certainly I enjoy doing that." "Football?" "Veging," he smiled. "Sometimes with football." They grabbed the bags of groceries and clothing and tramped up the stairs. From the lack of sex smells, the club had been cleaned since last night, and she noticed how sleek and sparkling everything looked. As they wound their way up the inside stairs past the scene rooms open to the corridor, she took in the tightly sheeted beds, and couldn't help blushing, thinking back on the night she'd last been at the club with Greg. Her first sexual adventure had ended in such a disaster. She sincerely hoped this one would be very different. He put on some electronic music and they spread out the food to cook. He looked at her thoughtfully, pausing as if to say something. "What?" He just shook his head, and laid out the cheeses and prosciutto on the kitchen counter, and brought out tall flutes for the champagne. "Adam, you surprise me. Are you sure you don't have a girlfriend or a wife hidden somewhere around here?"
 "Why?" She tipped her head toward the champagne flutes. "I've never met a man yet who had bothered to buy champagne flutes for his bachelor pad." "Mmm, you're too right. I didn't. They're a Christmas present from friends, trying to up my entertainment game. Plus I think I'm rather unique in the male universe for liking champagne. My friends tease me for being in the closet, especially as I'm also one of the few men I know who's a chocoholic. I think it's about a 10 to 1 ratio of women to men who fess up to being chocoholics. All I can say is, more for me..." "More what?" "The three C's: more chocolate, more champagne, and more chicks for me. Hah!" He gave her a mischievous wink that softened his face, made her smile. "Ummm, you're being a little too sensitive here... are you sure you're not hiding an extra X chromosome somewhere?" He winked at her again. "Oh, darlin', I'll show you soon enough. You can be your own judge of that, OK? Now, I think we need to clean some strawberries and let them dry, and we need to melt some chocolate..." "Are we making chocolate dip for the strawberries?" "Maybe...," he said, eyes crinkling in a smile. They played around with each other, joking, drinking champagne, and nibbling slices of cheese. During one slow song, he came around behind her, laying his hand along her upper stomach, just below her breasts, moving them both in time to the music. She swayed her hips from side to side, teasing, feeling his shaft rise stiff against her back. "Go sit on the couch, I'll bring the food." She took over their glasses and the bottle, which was already more than half empty, then went back for the bowl of strawberries. "So, do you mind my asking, how did you come to own a sex club?" He brought over a large plate arranged with prosciutto slices, cheeses, and crackers, and went back for the double boiler that held the melted chocolate. She sat on the couch, trying to pull down her skirt and keep some sort of decorum, without success. "A friend of mine talked me into it, a few years ago. He needed some capital and some help running the place. He travels a lot, and, well, someone needs to keep a close eye on the place. And I was a bit at loose ends at the time. Rather dissatisfied with what I was doing." "How do you like it?" "It took some getting used to, but it's grown on me. It was a good change, and the life style suits me now. I used to be in IT, and got tired of that rat race. I made my money and wanted to get out. This was quite different from anything I'd planned." "And... do you ever tire of living so close to it?" "Not yet. Perhaps I will, someday. But for now I would like you to lean back." She looked at him, hesitated as she searched his face for answers: why was she here? what did he want with her? "You're overthinking it again. I will not betray the trust you've put in me, Kim. I would like to give you pleasure, make you let go. I'd like to teach you to enjoy yourself sexually more than you have. Show you how good it feels." "Hard offer to turn down. What I don't get, however, is why you're doing this with me...," she said. "It's a turn-on for me. Let go of your insecurities. Who cares? We're both here now, enjoying each other's company on this Valentine's Day. Why ever not you?" She smiled slowly. "Well, when you put it that way," and she leaned her head onto the back of the leather couch. "Here, let me put this underneath you," he said, and slid a light soft flannel throw under her, covering the impersonal chill of the leather. "Slide your hips down closer to the edge." She complied without further questions, letting herself enjoy his attentions. He rolled a prosciutto slice and brought it to her lips. She opened and took it in, nibbling the tip of his finger with her tongue after he deposited the slice between her teeth. "Now spread your knees for me." "Mmmm," she mumbled, as she chewed the prosciutto and let her knees fall apart, enjoying the flare of his breath on her thighs. "What about you? I thought you liked prosciutto as well." "Oh, I do, darlin', I do," and he pulled on her knees, bringing her pelvis right to the edge of the couch. Keep your hands to the side." She watched curiously as he pushed her skirt up, laying light little kisses on her inner thighs and between the tops of the thigh-highs and the pelvic seam. His chin, sporting a 5 o'clock shadow, scraped against her skin and sent tremors up and down her spine. She then watched, stunned, as he took a slice of the prosciutto and carefully laid it on her naked mound, letting it drape over the top of her vulva. She twitched slightly when the slice of ham made contact with her skin, and gasped as he ran his tongue up her thighs towards the juncture of her legs. "Don't move, Kim," he said, sliding his tongue up through her moist lips and under the slice, rolling it up as he went, then using his teeth to lightly scrape the meat off her. She couldn't take her eyes off him, watching him chew and swallow the prosciutto. When he was done, he returned to give her clit the attention of his tongue. "Yummmm," he murmured against her labial lips, now weeping liberally. "The salty sweetness of the prosciutto goes perfectly with your scent and taste. I wonder how you and the cheese will work together?" He wielded a small spatula to slice off some of the Explorateur cheese that had begun to melt on the plate and smeared it just over her clit. He ate the cheese off her with small nips and licks, his tongue straying over her sensitive, swollen nub and into her channel. His fingers dug into the top of her thighs to keep her from moving, as she struggled to stay still and failed. His tongue wandered deeper and faster over her clit, and soon he inserted a thin zucchini that he had carved with shallow, centimeter-wide grooves in a spiral pattern along its length. She had not seen him do that, and sucked in her breath wildly as she felt the grooves of the vegetable scrape against her inner tunnel. "Oh, oh, Adam, what..." He moved the carved zucchini in and out, swirling it as he did so while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. She had a harder and harder time keeping still and quiet, and finally gave up and let her gasps and screams fly freely. His tongue was scraping faster and faster against her clit, circles, side-to-side swipes, up-and-down swipes, randomly as far as she could tell. She lost her focus completely, her only thought on the heat and build-up of need radiating from her core until, finally, she shook uncontrollably from the spasms running through her groin. She lost track of time for a few minutes as she sank into the couch. When she came to she flushed with embarrassment, but his gentle embrace and his warm stare reassured her. "Here," he said, and brought the zuke to her lips after taking a bite of it himself. "The slight saltiness complements the zucchini so well, don't you think?" She bit crisply into the now semi-soft vegetable, and enjoyed the mirth in his eyes. Far from making her nervous, his sense of humor put her at ease. She realized she was having fun. She placed her hand on his chest. "That was... that felt... I've never felt like that before, Adam. I'd like to return the favor. I'd like to make you feel at least half as good." "Come then," he helped her rise from the couch, and held her close as he guided her farther into the apartment, down a short hall, and into the bedroom. The bed was low to the floor, with a slatted wooden headboard and satiny sheets. "Lay down and get comfortable. Unless you need the facilities? They're through there," he pointed to another door. "No," she shook her head as she settled on the bed and reached for the buttons on his fly. "May I?" "Are you sure?" "I'd love to. Please, let me pleasure you as you did me." He pulled off his shirt, watching her carefully. She breathed out heavily, entranced by his chest, dark hair interspersed with a touch of white sprayed across his pecs and surrounding his dark nipples. She enjoyed hearing him suck in his breath as she reached up and licked his nipples in turn, swirling her tongue around the small protrusions in promise of what she would do farther down. As she did so, he pushed down his jeans and briefs, his clean-shaven cock springing straight out at her. She ran her hands down along his hips and brought her mouth even with his swollen shaft. And as she let the head invade her mouth and slide in, sucking along his length and swirling her tongue around the glans, the lower ridge, and the V-shaped indentation on the backside of his member, she closed her eyes, transported to that other night when she'd swallowed the cum an unknown man on a bed in a room not far from where they were right now. She took his penis out of her mouth, though she kept her hands on him, a firm but not strangling grip. "It was you, wasn't it, that night? When I was here with Greg?" He looked down at her and slowly nodded. "Do you recognize me now?" She looked at him, finally comprehending the reasons behind the awkward pauses earlier in the evening. Heat started again in her stomach and rose to her neck and upwards. A moment later, her eyes began to tear. "Oh, lord, it was you I... I didn't recognize you until now, tasting your... I guess the lighting.... And I was wearing an older pair of glasses. Things were pretty blurry." She could tell she was babbling. It had been him she'd given a blow job to. Was that why he was being so attentive to her? "Yes, I was the lucky guy on the bed with you," he said, handing her a tissue and giving her time to blow her nose and dry her eyes. "I had - have - the feeling I was the cause of something really bad. But I didn't know then. I had just come out of my apartment and I saw you two just as you were settling into the room, on the bed. You were just starting to play, and you looked beautiful. Sexy, sensuous. I wanted to taste a bit of you. That's why I asked if I could join you." She heard his words but couldn't raise her eyes. She hadn't thought she'd run into the man she'd given a blow job to again. She had to admit in her craziest fantasies since that evening she had hoped she might, though she also knew there was no chance she would recognize him, certainly not his face. She'd been so into her own head, and the low lighting was such that everything was in shadow, indistinct. Except she now realized she recognized his cock, by the way it felt in her mouth. She nodded, not knowing how else to respond. "Would you tell me what happened?" he asked, and she noted his hesitation. "By the time I reacted, you were already driving away from the club," he continued. "I got in my car and followed you, but lost you along the way, and eventually turned back. But it's been nagging at me ever since that night... I wished I could see you, meet you back here. Kept coming back to that night." "It wasn't your fault, Adam. I guess it must have been my fault. He said it was. I must have misunderstood what he'd said. He asked me if I wanted to. It sounded like it was something that would turn him on." "I'm sorry. So... he didn't like you having someone else's cock in your mouth?" "I don't know. He's the one who asked - it sounded as if he wanted it. I told him it was up to him, but then he said he wasn't OK. He was behind me, and he didn't interrupt, and didn't say anything during the... scene." She blew her nose again, drew another breath. "Later he made it sound as if it was only me, that I was the only one who'd wanted it. And he... I... I let another man come in my mouth, and swallowed his cum. It made Greg absolutely furious." "If he hadn't wanted me to come in your mouth, he should have told me - I asked, both you and him. I guess maybe I should have read the vibes. But you made me feel incredible. I wanted to so badly. I should have known better. I didn't know you two, I should have tried to get to know you first, before..." She shrugged again. "It's a sex club. We came upstairs of our own will. No one made us. And I really thought he wanted me to..." "He clearly wasn't OK with it." She nearly snorted. "Far from it, no. But, you know, I don't think he really meant to hurt me. It shocked both of us." She wondered if their lovemaking was at an end. He stretched her out next to him on the bed and held her. "Kim, are you all right? I want you to feel safe, not threatened, not afraid." "I do, now, here... though I don't exactly know why." "Shhhh...it's OK," Adam whispered. He tightened his arms around her, and for what seemed like the first time in a long while, she let herself truly relax, drifting in and out, his warmth surrounding her. She did feel safe. She let herself get lost in the moment, in the pleasure of feeling desired, craved, unconditionally. Slowly, she rubbed her face back and forth across Adam's chest, feeling the pleasantly rough hair against her cheek. She squirmed to gain some purchase, then slid herself down slowly, kissing his chest, his arms, his stomach as she went. She nuzzled the lines of muscle that radiated in an upward V from his groin, and kissed the skin of his pelvis lightly, very lightly, on either side of his stiffened shaft. She climbed across him, letting her breasts and the hardening nipples caress his side and laying more kisses across his buttocks. He helped by bringing his knee up, resting his left foot flat on the mattress, making room for her. She slid down even more and ran her nose upwards in the crevice between his buttocks, then nudged him gently forward, stretching him out. "Mmmm," he groaned in answer to the heels of her hands kneading his back, starting with his shoulder blades and down his spine to his waist. She kept kneading lower, down to his buttocks and then down to his thighs and calves, all very nicely muscled. "Do you bike or run, Adam?" she asked, admiring his legs as she massaged them. "Both, at times." She leaned down, pushed his thighs apart gently and let her nipple brush against both of his balls. He moaned slightly and turned under her, and she found herself nearly eye to eye with his erect shaft. She let the nipple linger in the small V-shaped notch at the bottom of the mushroom head, reveled in the velvety feel of the sides of her breast touching the shaft and then the crown of his cock. When she looked up at him, she found his slightly hooded eyes fixed on her, concentrating on the pleasure, the muscles in his neck straining to keep his head up. Eventually she sucked his cock into her mouth, her lips sliding down, then sucking strongly on the upstroke, probing the slit at the top with the tip of her tongue before doing it again and again. She loved feeling him, swirling her tongue around his length and the velvety head. She felt in control, felt as if he'd abandoned himself to the pleasure she was giving him. Kim's Valentine's Day Surprise She moved her pelvis over his knee and rubbed herself against it, trying to relieve the longing and pressure in her clit. He noticed and flexed his knee upwards, and soon she achieved a perfect rhythm between sucking on him and using him to pleasure herself. After a while the pressure of his knee was no longer enough. She quickly straddled him, thighs tight to his groin, sliding her dripping cunt over his cock. Their eyes were locked, and she felt wanton and demanding and slutty and lush all at the same time, some dam released to let the waters of desire rush out, flooding every shy instinct and last whiff of self-consciousness she had out of their way. Finally she lowered herself onto him, hovering slightly as the glans had just cleared her inner lips. He brought his hands to her breasts, kneading them and rubbing the nipples, pulling and pinching them to hardness, at once relieving the pain and lust and need in them. Their eyes still locked on each others', he thrust into her, and she felt skewered, pressured from inside, his cock head rubbing against her as he changed the angle of his attack slightly with every deep stroke. She lost control of her breath, gasping with each thrust, barely drawing in air on the out stroke. "More, please... deeper. God, you feel so good..." His eyes were now wild, concentrated on his effort, watching her breasts bounce up and down. She struggled to keep her eyes open but couldn't, letting herself just feel, letting everything be what was between both of their thighs, their legs, the union of their sexes speak to each other as she'd never had the guts or abandon to do with anyone before. "Open your eyes, Kim," he whispered. "Feel me, look at me." They thrust against each other in synchrony, all her neurons simply screaming for the pleasure that was bubbling to the surface, beginning to overwhelm any self-control she might have still tried to exercise until then. And then she felt him stream into her, his cock pulsing, sending her over the edge into sensual, heavenly oblivion. After several minutes of catching their breath, she opened her eyes when she felt him squirm away from her, getting up. "Kim, I'm so sorry. I should have used a condom." "It's OK, Adam, I didn't give you any chance to, did I? I'm clean. It's in my updated club papers." "I know. So am I. But what about...?" "I'm protected, no worries there." He smiled, relieved, and lifted off the bed. She nodded off until she heard him return. He held a small tray that she couldn't see clearly in the dim light of the room and without her glasses. He put it on the night table and handed her a glass of water. "Thank you. So very thoughtful." "We both need it. And Kim," he said, bringing a red rose petal dipped in the melted chocolate to her lips, " happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart." ~~~~~~ Closing notes: I plan to continue the story in future stand-alone installments. Your constructive comments and votes are much appreciated.