A Cute Little Valentine's Gift

She sat on the sofa. I handed her a martini, then sat down at the opposite end of the eight-foot sofa. I decided to take a few sips of the nerve-reinforcing liquid my glass held before starting the unpleasant, but unavoidable conversation to come. Apparently I needed more reinforcing than I'd thought, I sucked the first martini straight down and gobbled up the olives.

"You stay right here on the sofa. I'll be right back," I said, leaving to retrieve the big shaker full of courage.

When I returned, April was sitting at my end of the sofa, leaving just enough room for me between her and the arm of the sofa. Her drink sat, barely touched, in front of her. I sat down next to her, refilled my glass, topped off hers, sat the shaker on a coaster on the coffee table, picked up my glass, and held it aloft for a toast. She picked up her glass.

I made the only toast I could think of at the moment. "To unrequited love," I said, taking a small taste of the martini.

April turned her glass up and sucked it all down. She coughed and choked before downing the three olives.

"Careful, girl. I don't know how much drinking you're use to, but that's some high-octane stuff you're messin' with there. That shit'll hurt ya," I said, trying not to laugh at her.

"I know that, now," she smiled, her eyes still watering. "But the olives taste great and it has such a nice afterglow."

I busted out laughing at her. I couldn't help it, it was just so funny watching her trying to get her breath back and talk at the same time.

"Well, now, at least, I know how to make you laugh. All I have to do is try to kill myself and you find it absolutely hilarious," she grinned. "I'll have to remember that if you ever need cheering up."

"No, Honey, I wasn't laughing because you choked, but you shoulda seen the look on your face. It was priceless," I said.

"I guess it was. That stuff kinda took me by surprise," her smile grew bigger. "I like that."

"What, the vodka or being surprised?" I asked.

"Well, I liked the vodka, but what I really liked was you calling me Honey," she said. "That's what I liked the most. It sounded so warm and cozy coming from you. What does unrequited love mean?"

"Wow!" I replied. "Within thirty seconds I've made two major, poor-word choices. That's probably a record, even for me."

"I think it means, not returned, or not accepted," she said softly, a note of sadness back in her voice.

"I didn't mean it that way, Honey," I said, realizing a second too late I had called her Honey again.

"Then, you do love me!" she sparkled.

"Damn, girl, you're twisting my words around!" I replied, wondering how this little twenty-two year old girl with a high- school education was beating me at my own game. I'm a forty- year old, college grad with two degrees, one in English arts. How was she doing this to me. No, not how, but what, was she doing to me? I wondered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to confuse you," she said. "I do that to a lot of people. It really ticks my father off."

"It's not that you confuse people, it's just that you take their words literally," I tried to explain.

"How else would a person mean their words?" she asked.

"Okay, April, I surrender, I'm not going to play word games with you. I obviously wouldn't stand a chance against you," I replied, then I went right for the throat. "Just tell me what makes you think you love me."

"I know what love is. I've been in love before, but that was with men. I get the same feelings when I'm around you," she answered. "I get happy all over and all gushy inside, and that's what happens to people who are in love."

"A few extra turns on a merry-go-round will do the same thing for you," I said. "But that doesn't mean you're in love."

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked, her big, blue eyes started to fill with tears again.

"Of course not," I replied. "I'm just trying to say what one thinks is love may be nothing more than infatuation. Love is a pretty serious word."

"I know that," she said. "Do you think I just decided that I liked you a lot and started plotting a way to win your affection. I wish it had been that easy. This has been driving me just as nutty as it has you, probably even more so, at least you could enjoy the fantasy of thinking the roses were coming from a secret male admirer. I was stuck with the fact that I was sending flowers to another woman and had no idea what to do about it. I mean, how do you even approach another woman and let her know you have those kind of feelings about her?"

"I don't know, but it looks like you did a pretty damn good job of it. You damn sure got my attention," I replied.

"Yeah, I did that all right. I came right out here and managed to embarrass you and make a complete idiot of myself in the process. Yeah, I'd say I got your attention all right," she said, then threw down her second martini, olives and all, in one swift belt.

"Honey, you better be careful, that stuff will really put a hurt on you," I warned her again.

"At this point, I'm not so sure I care," she mumbled.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" I asked.

"Oh, believe me, I wanted to tell you a long time ago. I just couldn't find the right words, couldn't find the right time, but most of all, I couldn't find the nerve. I was afraid it would upset you and you might have me fired, and I really need that job.

"I was so scared when I started leaving the roses on your car. I have no idea why I even did that, but it seemed to make you happy and I have to admit it was exciting, so I kept leaving the roses," she explained.

April was really spilling her guts out now and I wanted her to keep going. That was what she needed; to get it all out in the open. So, I kept my mouth shut and let her rant on. I just shook my head and listened.

"I didn't want to tell you at work, but I couldn't think of a way to get you away from work until I saw your briefcase sitting there. I decided if I could get a hold of you and you really needed it this weekend, I would make up an excuse to bring it to you, so I would have a chance to talk to you privately. And with tomorrow being Valentine's Day and all, I figured it was now or never.

"Well, now I've had that chance and I've blown the whole deal. That's how I usually do things, just screw it up real good," she said starting to cry again.

I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Relax, April, everything's okay," I said trying to comfort her. I poured us a third martini. She reached for hers. I grabbed her wrist. "If you drink that one, you aren't driving away from here tonight. Either you'll have someone come after you, or I'll drive you home, or you can sleep here on the sofa tonight."

"After all I've done, you'd actually let me stay here tonight?" she sniffled.

"Why shouldn't I? I'm not mad at you about anything. You didn't do anything really wrong. You've just expressed your feelings, and no matter what they are, you have a right to express them," I replied.

She picked up the martini and took a small sip and sat it back down. Looking me in the eyes she said, "Do you realize you're in my bed right now? I knew I could get you in bed one way or another," she giggled.

That was it, I lost control right then. She had melted my heart. I couldn't resist her any longer. I leaned toward her and gently kissed her mouth. I was going to find out, once and for all, if she was serious about this whole thing or was it just a big, kid's game to her.

Apparently, she was serious, she eagerly met my kiss. Her tongue danced over my lips. I yielded to her probing tongue's persistence and parted my lips. Her wonderful delicious tongue shot between them and hungrily searched every inch of my mouth.

Finally, the deeply passionate kiss ended. Our lips separated, but our eyes locked. We sat there for a few moments staring at each other. Neither of us could speak or really knew what to say even if we could.

"Wait a second," I said. "How'd you get up there?" She had somehow managed to climb onto my lap and was sitting facing me, astraddle of my thighs.

She thought for a moment. "You pulled me up here, I think."

I had to admit to myself that it was a very cozy position. I was leaning way back against the sofa back and she was sitting on top of me and leaning over me. "I don't remember pulling you on top of me," I replied.

"Um, you didn't actually pull me over here. You picked me up and sat me on your lap," she said, her face came slowly down toward mine. Our lips met again. Our tongues intertwined like snakes in mating season. I slid lower on the sofa and pulled her closer to me. Her soft, supple body molded against me like a second skin. Even with all our clothes still on, I could feel her heart beating against my chest. And what a warm, wonderful feeling that was.

We stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other close and kissing each other's face and neck, with a touch of ear nibbling thrown in occasionally. I have never known such loving, caring kisses. It was like she had saved those kisses all of her young life, just to give them to me. And now that I had received them, I wanted more and more just like them. There was no rush to move on with the program from either of us. Even though our bodies were meshed together tighter than a wedgie, all our attention and all of our passion was focused from the neck up at the moment. Her little hands felt so gentle as she held my face between them.

She slowly raised up from my face; we both needed a chance to catch our breath. "I'm sorry to tell you tell this, but there's no way I can let you sleep on my sofa tonight," I said.

An unhappy shadow flowed over her face. "I knew I was messing up again," she whispered, trying to climb off of me.

"Yeah, I'm afraid you're gonna have to share my bed with me instead," I replied, grabbing her hips and pulling her back on to my lap.

That big, beautiful smile of hers suddenly cast all shadows aside. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm absolutely positive. It appears I have to completely rethink my life," I said.

"Well, while you're doing that, would you mind including me in a few of those thoughts," she softly asked.

"It's a little too late for that. I'm afraid you've just become a permanent fixture in my life, whether you like it or not," I answered, squeezing her tight.

She laid her head down on my chest and whispered, "I like that very much."

"We need to talk. This is all new to me," I said, smacking her on butt again, "and I need a drink."

"Me too," she said, climbing off of me.

I sat myself back on the sofa, properly, straightened my clothes and hair a bit, and took a big drink of my martini. April did the same.

"I have an overnight bag in my Jeep with a few things in it," she said. "You know, a nightshirt and stuff like that."

"Oh, so you'd already planned on staying here tonight?" I asked, smiling at her.

"No," she replied, seeming a bit shy at the moment. "I always carry the overnight bag in my Jeep. Sometimes I drink too much and stay at my friend's place. But, I do have to say that the thought had crossed my mind, more as a dream actually."

"I think we need to eat a little something or these martinis are gonna kick both of us in the butt, big time. Well, it's not the vodka, it's the darn olives. Those things really pack a punch," I joked, trying not to let my nervousness show through too much. I was wondering if I was prepared or not for what this night might hold in store for me. I looked at beautiful little April and immediately realized I definitely was ready. Even though I wasn't sure what it was, she was doing something to me I liked. Whatever that something was, was completely unfamiliar to me, but I wanted it to happen anyway.

"That would be nice, if you don't mind, I'm a bit hungry too," she replied. "I didn't eat lunch today."

"There's one condition," I said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"You have to stay in here. If you come in the kitchen with me, I'll never get anything made," I laughed.

"Okay, but it's not gonna be easy," she grinned.

"Do you want to call your friends and let them know you won't be able to make it tonight?" I asked.

She looked down into her lap; her face reddened a little. "I lied, there isn't any friend. I just needed an excuse for coming this way," she admitted. "But I do need to call my roommate and let her know I won't be home tonight. We have this rule between us that…"

I cut her off. "That's a good rule. The phone's over there on the desk," I said pointing at my office away from the office. "Is soup and a sandwich okay with you? I really don't think I could eat anything heavy tonight."

"Sounds great to me," she replied, walking toward my desk.

I watched her as she crossed the room and thought to myself, you really don't look too heavy to me. I mentally slapped myself across the face and whispered to myself, "Bad girl, bad girl! And just what do you have in mind?"

#

We sat side by side at the breakfast nook eating our small supper. I found it difficult to keep my hands off of her while we ate. I was constantly touching her arm, her shoulder, her knee, or just sliding my fingertips over the silky-smooth skin of her face and neck.

I was considerably larger than she was in all aspects, and I found this exciting in itself. All the men I had ever been with were larger than I was. I didn't mean that to sound like there had been a long line of them at my door; there actually had only been a few. April was just under five feet tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds. Even though she was small, she was well put together with a nice, curvy figure. Her breasts were perhaps a little small, but there was still enough there for me. She felt so fragile to my touch, I was afraid I might accidentally hurt her or break her if I wasn't careful with her.

After I had put the dishes in the dishwasher, I took her by the hand, and led her toward my bedroom. "Are you ready to go to bed yet?" I asked.

"I was ready when I first got here," she purred, a coy little grin on her face. "I'll go get my overnight bag."

"Is there anything in it you'll need tonight other than your nightshirt?" I asked.

"No, that's it," she replied.

"Then you won't be needing that bag at all, a nightshirt will just get in my way," I grinned, hastily leading her down the hallway to my bedroom.

The hugging and kissing earlier that evening had been tender and unhurried, but my passion was running hot once I had her in my bedroom. Patience was something I no longer possessed at that point, I wanted and needed her, now. I really didn't know why, I just knew I did. I hurriedly lit a candle on each nightstand and turned off the lights. After turning on the stereo and putting on some soft music, I was more than ready.

Between my thighs was already wet as I eagerly pulled her blouse out of her skirt and up over her head, I didn't even take time to unbutton it. Tossing the shirt on a chair in the corner, I wanted desperately to grab her young, lace-covered breasts. But I controlled myself momentarily; my eyes wanted to feast on the vision first. She just stood there before me, her big smile almost glowing in the dimly lit room.

My hands were shaking as I slid them into the waistband of her mini-skirt and slowly slid it and her half slip down over her small, round hips and down to the floor for her to step out of. Now my eyes really had something to feast on. Her small figure was perfect, with all the curves any woman could want. The pink floral-print of her bikini panties and matching, lace bra greatly complimented her lightly tanned, flawless skin.

She seemed even smaller after she kicked her high-heels off. I still just stood there, admiring her beauty. She struck a pose, looking almost too innocent, with a shy look on her face. Innocent or not, she was the one who had started this whole thing. She was the one who had set my heart aflame. And she was the one I was going to have, tonight.

She reached behind her back, released the hook on her bra, letting it fall over her shoulders and tossed it to the chair. Her breasts, not much more than a good hand full each, were perfectly shaped pert little mounds, tipped with taut dark-pink pea-size nipples, just begging for me to touch them.

She slowly, almost teasingly, slid the pink panties down over her hips and shapely legs, stepped out of the them and sent them flying through the air to join the rest of her clothing on the chair.

"Well, you like?" she asked, holding her hands out as if she was presenting me with a gift; which in reality, she was.

"Oh yes," I managed to reply. "Like, is an understatement." Me being a non-gay woman, I found it amazing how powerfully this little lady's gorgeous, nude body was turning me on.

April stepped close to me and slid her arms around my waist. "Wonderful. I was afraid you might not like me," she whispered.

My arms went around her shoulders; my fingers danced over the silky-smooth skin all the way down her back and over her sweet little behind. I gently kneaded the soft flesh of the cheek I held in each hand, pulling her tightly against me at the same time. I could feel the firmness of her womanhood when it pressed against my thigh. A soft little moan escaped her beautiful throat as she felt the same pressure. I released the pressure on her behind a little, relaxing the pressure against her mound. I pulled her tightly against my thigh again, but this time I pushed my thigh forward to meet her. I repeated this several times. Each time her moan was a little sweeter, a little louder. It was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard.

She pulled her head away from my chest and looked up into my eyes. "You better stop that," she said and moaned again, "or I'm gonna make," another moan, "a mess all over your dress," another moan.

"Yeah, I know," I smiled down at her, squeezing her just that much firmer and pressing my thigh into her a little tighter.

Her head fell back against my chest. Her feet came off the floor as her legs wound themselves around my leg. I no longer needed to pull her against my thigh, she was doing a wonderful job of that all by herself, working her hips back and forth. Her moans became deeper, more intense.

She looked up at me again. "I've gotta stop, before it's too late," she whimpered.

"Don't stop, Doll Baby," I whispered to her and kissed her forehead. "Don't stop, let go, let it happen. You need it bad."

As she stared into my eyes, her emerald-green eyes glazed over, her mouth opened wide, her body shuttered and shook as something approaching a scream blasted from her throat.

She squeezed my waist much tighter than I thought would have been possible for a girl her size as her insides seemed to be come apart on her. She continued to groan as her wetness flooded out of her in uncontrollable torrents. I felt her juices soak through my dress and start running down my leg.

I felt the strength slowly waning from her fragile, little body. Her arms loosened their hold around my waist and the vise-like grip of her legs wound around my thigh slackened.

"God, I didn't think it was ever gonna stop," she mumbled.

"That was absolutely beautiful. I've never watched anything so wonderful," I said, still holding her up by her butt.

She finally eased her feet back on the floor before I dropped her. "It was pretty wonderful from my side too," she said with a weak smile. "Oh no! I'm so sorry. I've ruined your beautiful, silk dress, look," she apologized after looking down where she had been riding my thigh.

I looked down giving her a big grin. "I guess that's a matter of opinion," I replied. "Monica Lewinski ain't got nothing on me now; I have a cum-stained, blue dress too. Only mine's much prettier than hers."