The last rays of dusk had passed and the long shadows of darkness were settling themselves around the room as I sat on the couch and let the strains of my favorite CD wash over me. I drained the last dregs of my third glass of wine and shook my head cynically. Who would’ve ever believed I’d find myself drinking alone on Valentine’s Day swept up in a morass of unresolved emotions over my failed relationship?
Truthfully, Valentine’s Day had never ever been much of a big deal for me. Maybe I was just too much of a practical down-to-earth kind of girl. I’d always found it to be a day that typically raised all kinds of unrealistic expectations with the stores brimming with pink satin, red velvet hearts and love paraphernalia. And then of course, the biggest contradiction of all was the lingerie and chocolates! I mean, indulging in one meant steering well clear of the other.
Anyway, from my experience, most of the men I’d known hated buying that stuff, hated the pressure of having to make a big deal out of the day, hated having to play at being romantic over a delicately prepared dinner and being thoughtful on cue when they’d rather be eating a good steak, having a beer and getting down and dirty later. God, I sounded sour but I guess being alone on Valentine’s Day after losing my lover two weeks back had probably brought an extra edge of bitterness to the whole hearts and candy affair.
I wiped the beginning of a tear away furiously. Enough was enough! No more pathetic whining and self pity. He was gone. The pain still cut like a sabre through me but it was over. I’d throw the shirts he’d left in the laundry basket out with the trash in the morning and move on with my life. Two weeks of grieving and moping about was enough, but I’d hoped the wine would help to bring some relief from the tension and angst I’d been feeling. It hadn’t and I knew there was only one solution left. I needed to get off. An orgasm always relaxed me.
A fortnight without release was unusual for me but I’d not been in the mood. Every time the thought occurred to me, I’d be overwhelmed with the craving for his closeness, the warmth and heat as he slipped his hardness into me and the completion that always came with our coupling. He had walked away from what we had dammit, but I couldn’t help still wanting him.
I headed for the bedroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror as I shrugged off my clothes. Despite my gloom I was still what would be considered pretty. Not exactly the type a model agency would sign up but my dark curly hair fell softly around my shoulders and when my eyes weren’t red rimmed they were a deep green that sparkled when I laughed. I stripped off the blue jeans that clung to my long legs and mused at how lucky I was to still have a decent body given my tendency to occasionally binge on pizza and Chinese takeouts.
With my eyes closed, I lay on the bed and slowly began to stroke my breasts letting the tips of my fingertips tease the hardening nipples. Almost immediately dampness welled up in my pussy and I let my mind drift to a real nice place where I could believe that love and hope and passion were still there to reach for. Playing with my nipples was a sure fire way to get me aroused and I lowered my hand to the moistness between my thighs and stroked myself. Two fingers slid through the juice of my lust, parting the swollen pouty lips and dipped into the pooling wetness of my cunt.
In the background the phone rang and I plunged another finger inside myself. Whoever was calling could fucking wait, I was not letting go of this. Inside my pussy the three fingers stretching me were doing their work. I arched my back and thrust myself against my hand, imagining it was him. In the eye of my mind I could see his face just inches from mine, the fire in his eyes as he drove deeper and deeper into my pussy. A groan ripped from me as I recalled the way he panted with pleasure when my pussy clamped around him and he neared his moment, the smell of his musky maleness wetting my skin and the guttural sounds of his joy as he peaked.
God, I was almost there. Almost. Close. So close. The mountain of sensation grew, reaching for the peak that would burst in blissful joy. I panted as I felt my body shudder towards it. Sweat rolled down the cleavage of my breasts and the crack of my ass as I strained against my fingers that were relentlessly fucking the steaming cauldron between my thighs. The first rush of what would explode into ecstasy started somewhere in the pit of my belly and radiated out in hot waves pushing the breath from my body. I moaned and grunted rocking against my hand. My mind willed me on, frantic now on the edge of release.
The shrill sound of the phone echoed through the room shattering my concentration.
“Shit! Fuck!” I screamed in frustration as the peaking pleasure slipped from my grasp. “Oh God, nooo,” I moaned as the muscles in my abdomen quivered with tension, still desperate for orgasm. It had always been so easy to come with him.
The ringing ceased and almost immediately started up again. I grabbed the phone off the bedside table.
“Yes, dammit!” My voice was muffled, still thick with desire.
“Christ, Lucy these are the most screwed up directions, you’ve ever given me,” a strange male voice said. A note of irritation dripped from his tone, “I’ve been driving around for an hour and I still can’t find your place. Care to-”
“Excuse me,” I snapped, “There is no Lucy here. Never has been, never will be!” I was seething with annoyance and bordering on breathless rage. Whoever he was, he’d picked the wrong fucking minute to dial my number the first time he called and then he still had the gall to call again. I wanted to tell him his fucking fortune and then slam the phone down so loudly in his ear that it hurt. Asshole!
“Shit, I’ve got the wrong number, haven’t I? She actually gave me the wrong number, I can’t believe it!” I heard a loud thump and assumed he had slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “Christ I should have known better than to get sucked in by her again. This is yet another one of her stupid mind games.”
I swallowed my retort as I listened to him. Despite the cutting edge to his words, his voice was smooth and deep. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” he said in a warm apologetic tone, “It sounded like I might have woken you.”
I struggled to catch my breath. It was my turn to speak, to say something, to confirm that he had indeed dialed the wrong number and then to hang up, but inexplicably I didn’t want to. The throbbing between my legs had intensified and my hand dipped into my pussy again. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping,” I said as I choked back a groan of pleasure.
“Yeah well I shouldn’t have called anyway, even if it was her number,” he said bitterly. “It was a stupid whim to have tried to see her, what with it being Valentine’s Day and all.”
I impaled myself on my fingers and let my thumb slide over my clit as he rattled on. God, his voice was so good, so masculine. I needed him to keep talking. I bit my lip to cover the purring sounds in my throat and shut my eyes to block out everything but his voice. The rich male baritone continued, “…anyway this has been a good wake up call for me. I should have read the signs a month ago when she left me saying that she needed space and moved in with a friend.”
“A month ago huh?” I said my voice thick with arousal. “Too bad. Maybe she’s with my boyfriend. He left two weeks ago.”
“Hmmm, great month for relationships,” he mused. “Like I said, I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than listen to a stranger’s sob story. Sounds like you have one of your own and I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing.”
I shifted on my bed trying to escape the pleas from my wetly stimulated body. It was time to hang up and finish what I had started, but there was this voice on the line that I somehow didn’t want to let go. He was in much the same situation as I was; alone on Valentine’s Day and still raw from the emotional aftermath of a broken relationship.
“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, “I was thinking about him when you interrupted…” I couldn’t believe I’d said it. It wasn’t so much the words but the inference. He knew what I was talking about. I sensed he understood perfectly well what I’d been doing. The arousal in my voice must have been a dead giveaway. It was as loud and as clear as a cat’s mating call.
He inhaled sharply, “Yeah, I know about those kinds of thoughts. I have them occasionally,” he said softly. The loneliness and hunger screamed from his tone and struck a chord with me. At least we understood each other.
“I’m in Milner Drive, where are you now?” The words spilled from my lips as if they had a mind of their own.
“Kingsway Avenue. Why?” He’d asked the question, but I couldn’t help but think it was rhetorical.
“That’s two blocks away,” I said huskily. “I’m in the third house from the corner if you want to stop by for coffee or something…” Jesus, what was I thinking; inviting a complete stranger into my home when coffee was the last thing on my mind. The throbbing heat between my legs had not cooled during our conversation. If anything the aching was more intense.
“I don’t know,” he answered drawing in an uneasy breath. “The way I’m feeling right now I probably won’t be much of a conversationalist with a woman tonight. My intentions around seeing her this evening weren’t exactly without selfish motive or even honorable…” He gave a wry laugh, “But I’ve got your number now, so maybe some other time?”
“I’m not feeling too talkative myself, so don’t worry about that,” I countered, dangling my offer in front of him like bait. “But if you change your mind it’s number six Milner Drive. I thought we could… keep each other from thinking too much tonight.”
“You’re making it difficult for me to refuse.” His voice had dropped to a low sexy drawl. “Yours wouldn’t be the white house with the green roof and the bay windows, would it? I’ve just pulled up outside.”
Reality set in quickly with his last words and I hung up the phone, grabbed my robe and rushed to the window. I tried to steady my breathing. This was total insanity; he could be anyone, dangerous even; a perverted sex fiend or a violent rapist. My mind raced even as I felt the first flicker of fear mingle with the liquid tide of hormones between my thighs. Shit, the way I was feeling right now, nobody would have to force me too much. But still, I wasn’t the kind of woman who invited strange men over.
Dammit, was I really this desperate? Maybe he would go away. I didn’t have to actually open the door and he’d get the hint and leave. At this point it could still just be a bad idea and not a serious regret. But my curiosity got the better of me. I inched the drapes aside and peered out at him standing on the curb next to his car in the dim light of the streetlamp. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the house as if deciding whether he should venture up the driveway towards the front door.
From what I could see he was tall and well built without being overly muscular. His shoulders shifted in the loose leather jacket as he reached back into the car to retrieve something. From the distance I was, and the way he was positioned, I couldn’t make out his features and even if I could, it wouldn’t have made him less of a stranger. Maybe it was the wine I’d consumed. Perhaps it was just because I was so fucking tired of feeling miserable and alone. Maybe it was simply because it was Valentine’s Day and there was supposed to be passion and excitement in the air, I don’t know, but I acted completely out of character. A wave of recklessness washed over me as I walked straight to the front door and opened it just as he reached the doorstep.
Seeing him up close took my breath away. He was dark like a Brando biker with short well cut hair and a craggy face that pushed the word attractive to breaking point. His nose had been broken at least once and reset, but it was far from perfect and his grey eyes were big and inquisitive. They moved fast for their size, like a couple of quick boxers around a small ring. He looked like a tough guy and as if he ought to be dirty but I could see that he was scrupulously clean. Looking at a man’s hands was something I always did, and his fingers and nails were immaculate.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Edward.” He reached across and handed me a bunch of yellow roses. “Flowers by default,” he grinned, showing good white teeth. “Hope you don’t mind.”
He didn’t strike me as the flowers kind of guy, not even on Valentine’s Day. But he’d said he had plans for Lucy or whatever her name was, tonight. Stupid girl, her loss was my gain!
“Thanks,” I said reaching for the blooms and smiling. “I’m Rachel.” I tried to keep my tone purposefully casual to deny what we both knew.
His eyes slid over me and I felt suddenly naked and exposed. The silky white robe I’d thrown on hardly covered me. It rested against the top of my thighs and was casually tied at the waist but I knew that my dark nipples were probably clearly visible to his eyes. I stood frozen there for a moment.
“I… I guess I didn’t really think you’d show up,” I stammered.
“Let’s say I was curious. You have a sexy phone voice and when you invited me over, I thought I’d take a chance and see what was behind the voice.”
“Disappointed?” I asked feeling self conscious and terribly aware of his masculine presence.
“Quite the opposite,” he drawled as his eyes drilled into me. “But I can leave, if that’s what you want.” His mouth softened at the corners as he spoke but it was still hard as nails in the middle. Fuck, he was sexy and I felt the butterflies take off in my stomach. Leaving was the last thing I wanted him to do.
“No,” I replied a little too quickly. “What I’d like, is for you to come inside.”
“I’d love to come inside…” he said as he flashed me a knowing smile.
Jesus, talk about a bad choice of words! My face flushed and the heat raced through my stomach like it does after the first sips of whisky. The front door blew shut as we stepped into the house. I dropped the flowers on the table in the hallway and tried to steady my breathing, praying that my exhale would not come out as a shuddering moan of delicious anxiety. I was inches away from a stranger and my desire for him was inexplicable, something I couldn’t begin to understand. He wanted me too, I was certain of that but there were manners, conventions, codes of conduct, things that were done and oh God, not done.
“I’ll get the coffee going and change-” I said huskily trying for some semblance of sense and decorum. “Take a seat,” I said gesturing to the living room, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m not thirsty and what you’re wearing is fine,” His breath tickled my neck as he spoke and I shuddered in the muted light of the passage at the foot of the stairs He was following me. My heart hammered in my chest. I was afraid of what I wanted, and yet fearful that this frightening moment would pass.
My mouth was dry, but my heart was humming as the desire stewing between my legs threatened to overwhelm me. I tried to swallow but my saliva was gone. “Are you sure?” I croaked as I turned towards him flattening my back against the passage wall for safety and support.
There was sweat on his upper lip and moisture glistened in the chest hairs at the neck of his open shirt. I tried to lick at my lips as I waited for his answer, tried to smile at him as I anticipated his next move. But it was all too late. There were no manners left, no necessity for small talk. There was only naked need. Our hunger was frantic. His. Mine.
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling me towards him. He wrapped his arms around me like rope as his lips closed hungrily on mine. I kissed him back, my mouth open and wet, slippery with lust as our tongues slid together. The stubble of his beard rasped against my skin and I groaned in excitement as his lips consumed me. I wrestled his leather jacket off and let it drop to the floor. His cock still confined in his tight jeans pressed against me and I jammed my pelvis against him as my robe hiked up to expose my dripping pussy. He lowered his hand to my wetness and slipped his fingers through the matted hair into my pulsing heat.
“Oh God,” I moaned at the first delicious sensation of being touched. I drew my leg up to give him entry to my pussy and he fixed his eyes on me. They had taken on a faraway look but raw lust raged from them.
“Wait,” he groaned, moving me past him and onto the stairway. He urged me down so that I was sitting on the step that was third from the bottom and my face was line with his cock. It threatened to burst from the crushing denim fabric that was tautly stretched across it. I wanted it so badly. My mouth was watering. I needed to take his heat into my mouth and taste him. But he was in control. He sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine and positioned himself so he could spread my thighs open and lean in to taste me. His tongue lingered teasingly at the entrance to my swollen pussy lips and a groan of anticipation ripped from my throat when he finally plunged into the wet velvetness of my pussy.
He was a complete stranger and yet now he owned my intimacy. The realization shocked and excited me. His tongue explored with tenderness and then with passion as it slid through the folds and up to my clit. He licked and sucked it and then dipped his tongue back into my slit, pressing, drawing back, probing, driving me insane with feverish desire, making me gasp and grab at his hair as I tried to impale his tongue deep inside my cunt. I wrapped my thighs around his head and lifted up my ass to give him deeper access. “Oh Fuck,” I moaned as the sensations built. I could feel his tongue reaching deeper into me, his strong strokes exploring me. In, up higher then back to lap at my clit and all the way down my slit to the thin smooth strip that separated my pussy from my ass. For a second his tongue lingered and I knew instantly what was about to happen. He spread me wide open, and I lifted my butt off the step so that his tongue could slide between my buttocks. The thrill of indecent excitement shot through me as he pushed his tongue over the puckered ridge of my asshole and forced it inside. I screamed at the sensation and rocked against his tongue while I let my fingers slide over my clit. His movements speeded as he hungrily speared my ass.
“Oh fuck yess! Ooohh! ” I cried lost in the exquisite sensations. It was so nasty but so delicious. A moan bubbled from his throat as he replaced his tongue in my ass with a thick finger and resumed his skilled lapping and sucking of my clit, licking at my wet fingers and sweeping down into my pussy. A tight ball of ecstasy rushed from his tongue in my pussy to the drumming finger inside my ass and I bucked and reared like an animal riding his face like a saddle until the quake of pleasure crashed into me and swamped me in a storm of pure joy.
“Argghhh! God! ” I screamed as I gave myself over to orgasm. The muscles in my pussy and ass tightened and clenched around his marauding finger and tongue while juice spilled from me leaving its earthy animal scent lingering in the air above us. He moved his soaked face from between my thighs and unsteadily stood up leaning against the wall as he stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt.
“Thank you,” I gasped, still breathless. “It’s never been like that before.” He smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I felt so deliciously weak and shaky but I was still filled with the awareness of his diamond hard cock inside his jeans. “If we make it to the top of the stairs, there’s some unfinished business I want to attend to…”
By the time we reached the bedroom door, I had his jeans unbuttoned and my hand inside, reaching for him like a looter in a store, hurriedly grasping at the pulsing bulge so it wouldn’t escape from me. His cock reared against my hand pulsing like a heart as I pulled it free of its confines, and God, was he gloriously thick. My fingers were scarcely able to close around him. The taut skin of his cock was smooth and burning wet with his own excitement. He brushed against my tummy impatiently and my heart speeded up. My body was humming like a wire in the wind. I desperately wanted him inside me.
“Do it,” I groaned, “Fuck me, please.”
A slow smile spread over his face as he reached around and held the cheek of my ass, drawing my right leg up over his thigh as he guided himself to my entrance. Juice dripped from me in anticipation of the invasion and I gasped as he rubbed his cock head over my swollen lips.
For a millisecond the horror of unsafe sex crossed my mind. In a few minutes his sperm would be free inside me with all its dangers and secrets and frantic irresponsibility, but inexplicably the thought did not make me recoil. I realized with horror that this was exactly what I wanted. I’d always been so cautious, so responsible and now just once, with a desperation that bordered on the insane, I wanted to experience the basest sex of all with this strange man in my house on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to celebrate my lust and laugh in the face of lost love. I wanted to use the hugeness poling out of his jeans as a contraption for my pleasure and become a sex thing for him. For this night, I wanted to feel gloriously wantonly sexually alive.
My eyes must have screamed my thoughts because he bucked down and reared up invading me with a force that knocked the breath from my body. My feet flew off the floor and for a mind-bending second I hung there in space speared on his cock. One moment I was a void, achingly, agonizingly empty and then he was deep inside me stretching me, forcing my cunt to stretch open to take every rock hard inch of him.
“Ooohh,” I gasped as he split me wide open and reached beneath my ass to take my weight. His biceps strained and his knees buckled but he held me in front of him pressing me against the wall. He lifted me an inch or two higher as he drew his glistening meat out of me then let me down again to sink all the way to the base of him. Stars burst in my head at the depth of the penetration and the way his big cock head rammed into my core. I felt like I was being wrenched apart. My legs curled around him and I crossed my ankles in the small of his back to steady myself. There were beads of sweat on his lip as he carried me, still connected to him, to the bed where it had all begun with that phone call.
He thrust forward into me collapsing his body down onto me. The air rushed from my lungs as I clamped around him locking him in the hot whirlpool of my pussy. I kept my legs tightly hugged around him and dug my nails into his back.
‘Fuck me hard, please,” I moaned hungry for the friction and roughness of his lust. “Show me how much you want me.”
A guttural sound ripped from him as he drove back and forth fucking me in deep hard long strokes. “Jesus, you feel good,” he rasped, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. His mouth found my nipple and he latched onto it causing ripples of pleasure to race up my spine and explode in my already overloaded brain.
I groaned and twisted, writhing under him as the familiar twitches of pleasure began to grow again. Our hips slammed together and I ground my pubic bone hard up against him moaning loudly as the rhythmic spasms deep inside me built slowly and tripped over each other in quick tight convulsions that threatened to strangle him in the noose of my pussy. I shrieked with the intensity of my orgasm as a dam erupted in me. On and on it went, my quivering walls clutching at him and squeezing his steely hardness with the molten warmth flowing from inside me.
“Damn baby,” he screamed as his face contorted in a grimace of pure pleasure. “Fuck, oh fuck! God, I’m gonna come!” His hot breath fanned my face and his movements lost their coordination as his climax surged over mine. I felt his cock throb wildly as he spurted his release, spraying his cum in long ribbons deep inside me. My body rocked against his, wringing every drop of lust from him until he collapsed onto me. “Jesus,” he gasped breathlessly as his fingers traced along the sides of my body, “What a wrong number this was.”
I waited until our breathing had returned to normal and then eased myself out from under him. Satiated now, I was acutely aware again that he was a stranger.
“Should I make that coffee now, or maybe get you a drink…?” I said fumbling around for words.
He raised his head and fixed his eyes on me. “No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to make this any more awkward for you than it already is.”
“Awkward?” I said, trying to play it cool. “I think we passed awkward at the bottom of the stairs.”
He laughed and rolled towards me pulling me into his arms. I snuggled against his chest and inhaled his musky scent mingling with the aroma of our spent passion. “I guess, you’re right,” he replied. “But you were incredible and you saved me from being played for a fool tonight. There is something though that I am curious about,” he said sitting up and gazing intently down at me.
“If I called you again, would it be the right number?”
I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.
“Probably not,” I said softly not meeting his eyes. “Pining and falling into someone’s bed because of the end of one relationship isn’t exactly the best way to start another one.” It was time to move on with my life and I didn’t think a casual night of mind blowing sex with a stranger on Valentine’s Day qualified as the start of something new. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
‘That’s okay, no pressure,” Edward said as he rolled off the bed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for and that things work out for you.” He buttoned up his jeans and reached for his shirt. “But if you change your mind and want to see me again, I can give you my number.”
What was I supposed to say? Would he think I was a slut if I told him I’d got what I wanted from him? That I’d stepped out of myself for one crazy night, lost myself in wanton passion but that fundamentally I was cautious and responsible, hoping to meet Prince Charming in some acceptable and conventional way. I watched him dress. “Ok, now I do feel awkward,” I said. “Are you simply trying to make me feel less guilty about tonight or do you really want me to call you?”
He shrugged as he buttoned up his shirt. “Would it matter if I did? It’s your choice. Remember, I said no pressure.” His lips curled in a half smile as he glanced passed me to the phone on the nightstand. “Serendipity, that’s what they call it, don’t they? Tonight was a fortunate accident, and who knows sweet Rachel, maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.” His grey eyes locked with mine, “Or maybe we won’t. Let’s leave it to chance. Stranger things have happened.”
I waited until I heard the front door close and his car start up before I headed down to the kitchen. The yellow roses on the table in the hall caught my attention. Propped up against them was a small business card. I read it and softly mouthed his full name then dropped it a drawer with a stash of take out menus and pizza delivery numbers. They were all numbers I used when my cravings needed to be satisfied. I shut the drawer and laughed with the exhilaration of my new found liberation and freedom. Edward was totally delicious, definitely better than chocolates could ever have been on Valentine’s Day and it couldn’t hurt to keep his number. After all, there were times when I might need a hot and fast delivery on demand.
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