Conversation Hearts

I hung my keys on the hook in the front hall. Thank goodness I was home for the night. Work had been crazier than usual, with people running in and out of the store looking for the perfect last-minute Valentine's gifts for their loved ones. Of course, at the last minute, everything perfect was sold out. Which was somehow my fault.

On the stand beneath the key hook was a small box of conversation hearts. You know, those little candies with the cute sayings on them. I was addicted to the things; I was lucky they were only available around Valentine's Day, or I probably would have gained about a hundred pounds eating them.

I picked up the box and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. A note. I picked it up and read:

"Dear Lara,

"I know these candies are your favorites, so they're part of my Valentine plans for you. These aren't your typical conversation hearts. Each one has a special saying on it. Before you can eat the heart, you have to do what it tells you. Don't cheat; I'm watching.

"Love, Brett."

Sounded intriguing. Since I'd met Brett, he'd pushed my comfort zone, never farther than I could stand, but just enough to help me open up to things I never would have imagined doing. When we'd moved in together just before Thanksgiving, the zone pushing had increased. A small smile on my lips, I rubbed my wrist where a couple nights earlier, Brett had tied a scarf to secure me to the post on our queen-size brass bed. I'd been reluctant to try something that left me unable to move, but I trusted Brett fully and the experience had turned out to be more exciting than I could have anticipated. I couldn't wait to see what he had planned for me today.

I opened the box and took out the first heart. "Hug Yrslf," it read.

Easy enough. I crossed my arms over my chest and squeezed. "That's one," I said aloud, figuring that Brett had to be somewhere within earshot.

I ate the heart. Before taking the next one, I took off my shoes and curled up in the corner of the couch. Might as well be physically comfortable; my mind was churning at the possibilities of the hearts.

I took the next one out of the box. "Lick lips."

Another easy one. I slowly ran my tongue over my lips, the way Brett loved. He always said it drove him wild. I hoped he really was watching. I wanted him to be as excited as I was becoming. Following his orders was making me wet.

I ate that heart and took the next one. "Topless."

Now we were getting somewhere. My only problem with stripping off my shirt was the picture window across the room from the couch. I got up to close the blind and found another note from Brett on the table in front of the window. "Leave the blind open, no matter what the hearts say. And remember, I'm watching."

When Brett and I went out, he loved showing me off. Low cut tops, short skirts, high heels. The kind of thing I'd never worn until he started talking me into it. The idea that our neighbors might see me if they looked at the window probably didn't bother him in the least. It bothered me, but if Brett wanted the blind to stay open, it would stay open. Probably none of the neighbors would look at the window anyway. I sat on the couch again and took off my blouse. Beneath it I wore a lace push-up bra, which I also removed. In the cool air of the house, my nipples hardened, adding to my excitement.

"Where are you, Brett?" I asked loudly, hoping he would answer. I was still learning to be comfortable with my body; if I had to be half-naked, I wanted him there to encourage me.

But I got no answer. If Brett was in the house, he was staying hidden for now. I took another heart out of the box. "Dance."

Dance? That was too open ended. I could dance normally, or I could do the sexy, striptease style dance Brett had taught me by having me watch online videos. Since there were no further instructions, I decided it was up to me. Dancing was easier with music, but I wanted to get this over with, so instead of taking the time to turn on the radio I hummed quietly as I moved my body around the room. Glancing at the window, I saw someone on the street, looking toward the house. I quickly sat down.

Time for another heart. The next one sped up my heartbeat: "Strip."

Naked in front of the window? It was getting dark outside; I'd have to turn on the light soon. Anyone would be able to see me. The thought terrified me. And made me wet.

I didn't even think about going upstairs. If that was where Brett wanted me, he would have said so in one of his notes. The fact that he'd left a note by the picture window showed that he expected me to be in the living room. I stood and undid my slacks. Should I really do this?

Yes, I should. I had to. That was what Brett wanted. He was pushing my comfort zone again, but he wouldn't ask me to do something I felt strongly against. Being naked alone bothered me; being naked where anyone other than Brett might see me was worse. But it also excited me to think about it. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I slipped off my slacks and thong.

I shivered a little, more from excitement and anxiety than from cold. I was completely naked, no one around except whoever might walk past my window. And Brett, wherever he was. My pussy tingled, and my juices seeped onto my inner thighs. Whatever else Brett had in mind, he'd better plan on fucking me.

I sat on the couch again and took out another heart. I was barely interested anymore in eating them; I wanted to see what they all said. The new one read, "Tch Yrslf".

Easy to translate; not so easy to do. Brett loved to watch me masturbate, but I was never comfortable playing with myself in front of him. I enjoyed seeing how turned on it made him, but inside I cringed every time he asked me to do it. I had to follow the rules, though. I put down the heart and lightly touched my clit. A shiver went through me and my wetness increased. Damn, I was horny!

And was still displayed for all to see through the picture window. What a slut I'd seem if anyone saw, naked on my couch with my hand in my cunt. "Slut," I whispered as my fingers flicked faster on my clit. "Dirty little slut."

The words and the sensation brought me close to coming. I stopped myself at the brink. The heart had directed me to touch myself; it hadn't said anything about coming. I wasn't sure of all the rules of this game, but I had the feeling Brett wanted me to do only what was on the hearts. No matter how horny I was, coming would have to wait till I found a heart that told me to do so. Hopefully Brett had included at least one of those in the bag.

To give myself a break, I devoured the few hearts I hadn't eaten yet. Then I took another one out of the box. "Toy."

That definitely upped the ante. Only once had Brett persuaded me to use a toy on myself while he watched, though he'd used them on me a few times. Of course I used my vibrator sometimes when I was alone, which rarely happened since Brett and I had moved in together, but I wasn't alone now. Brett's note said he was watching. Even if I couldn't see him, he'd be able to see me with the toy. And of course there was the window... I looked toward it and saw one of our neighbors outside, staring at our house. Could he see me?

Damn... after that thought, I needed a toy. Though Brett's cock would have been better. I went into the kitchen. Last time Brett and I'd played with a toy, we'd been in there, and I recalled leaving the dildo we'd used in one of the utensil drawers. "For future reference," Brett had said. I opened the drawer and found a note wrapped around the dildo.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself," it read. "I know I am. You may fuck yourself with this, but no coming. That's for later. Take this back to the living room; you'll stay there until you find a heart that says different."

I hurried back to the couch and lay down. As I slid the dildo inside me, I almost forgot about the open window. Almost. A corner of my mind was still aware that I might be seen, though now that I was lying down someone would have to be on the front porch to be at the right angle to see me. Still, the thought was thrilling enough that it only took moments to fuck myself back to the edge of an orgasm.

Reluctantly, I pulled the dildo out of my pussy and set it on the coffee table. I always washed my toys as soon as I was done with them, but Brett's note had said to stay in the living room; washing the dildo would have to wait until this was over.

There were only three more hearts in the box. The next one read, "Pinch nips."

"Brett, you ass," I muttered. I hated having my nipples pinched; they were extremely sensitive, and even what some people might consider a gentle pinch hurt. But pinching and biting my nipples was another of Brett's turn-ons, one I allowed him to indulge on occasion because he enjoyed it so much. Now he wanted me to do it to myself.

I gave each nipple a quick tweak. "That will have to do," I said. I took the next heart out of the box. "Lick fngr."

That was a little easier than the last few. I'd never tasted myself on my own fingers, but I had on Brett's fingers and on his cock. I dipped my finger into the wetness between my legs, then licked it clean.

Only one heart was left. To put off reading it, I ate the last few hearts. What could Brett have planned for me next? I was almost afraid to find out.

But I had to read it eventually. When I took it out of the box, I sighed with relief. "Upstrs."

Finally, I could get away from the window. I went to the top of the stairs and stopped. All the doors were closed. Was Brett here? In our room or his study? "Hello?" I called.

No answer, but I thought I heard a snore from our bedroom. I pushed open the door and saw Brett on the bed. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep, but his long cock was hard against his belly, convincing me that the sleep was an act. Either that or he was having some very hot dreams. On his chest was one last conversation heart: "Fuck me."

This was one of Brett's fantasies, to be awakened by a woman sliding her pussy onto his cock. He'd asked me to try it before, but I never had; he worked so hard, I didn't want to wake him when he was sleeping. But the heart's command had to be followed, whether he was really sleeping or just faking it. A single drop of precum glistened on the head of his cock. I wanted to lick it off, but that wasn't on the heart.

I straddled him. He snorted as though almost waking. I thought I caught him half-opening one eye, but if so, he closed it again before I could be sure. I took his cock and guided it inside me as I lowered myself. "Mmm, baby, I hope you don't sleep through this," I murmured as I slowly moved up and down.

He opened his eyes. "What a nice way to wake up from a nap!" He grasped my hips, pushing me to ride him faster. "Did you like your hearts, darling?"

"God, Brett, fuck me!"

He laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Ride me, slut. Fuck me as hard as you want. I can feel how wet you are. You must be more turned on than you've ever been."

"And you wouldn't let me come," I whined.

"Poor little slut."

I clenched my cunt muscles, squeezing his cock as I fucked him harder. "You're going to make me come now, aren't you? You and that big cock of yours are going to make me scream."

"Fuck yes, baby. You proved you can follow directions. Now you get your reward. Fuck me with that hot cunt of yours. I want to feel your come on my cock. Come for me, Lara. Come for me now."

"Brett!" As always, his growled command sent me over the edge. "Oh, fuck, Brett! God, yes!" My voice built to a scream. "Yes!"

Brett thrust up into me two or three times, then I felt his come spurting into me. "Goddamn, Lara, you are the best fuck!"

He pulled me down to him, and our lips met in a short, sweet kiss. "That was amazing," I said softly.

"Yes, it was." He kissed me again. "Happy Valentine's Day, darling."

"Happy Valentine's Day."