Perfection

***

January ended and our next date was February 1st. I picked her up at her house this time and we went to dinner.

"Elena, Valentine's Day is coming up soon. Do you remember? That's the day we met for the first time."

"Of course. I think that's part of the reason I decided to find you when I did."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

She chuckled. "Because I remember last Valentine's Day. I was a little sad and a lot lonely but then I met this cute and seemingly nice guy and my mind was in overdrive with possibilities for a couple of minutes...until I realized he was a fan and recognized me from my old days. That was a shock and all those dreams went up in a puff of smoke."

"Sorry," I grimaced as I recalled the scene.

"No, don't be. It was my silly fantasy. The main thing was that we met again and you were still nice and didn't hold my past against me...or try to take advantage of me like some people do. I thought about it for a long time after that, but we never ran into each other again despite me going to that damn grocery store five and sometimes six times a week."

I laughed, remembering making more trips to that store than ever before during the same period. "Really? That many?"

"Yes, I wanted to see you again, and to see whether it would go anywhere. When I couldn't, for the life of me, bump into you again, I finally looked you up online, wondering if we might have a chance, now, later, or maybe even St. Valentine's Day, to meet at least."

Hearing what she was saying and remembering the day the year before, I suddenly made a choice. "Elena, since we missed out last year, will you be my Valentine this year? Will you share that evening with me?

She studied me for a few seconds, as if letting me squirm, before her baby blues twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up to show her pretty white teeth. She nodded and said, "Definitely."

***

How does one plan a perfect Valentine's Day for a perfect woman?

Elena claimed, of course, that she was nowhere near perfect, so I told her she was free to have her own opinion if she didn't mind me stubbornly clinging to the truth. I smiled afterward so she knew I was teasing, but I didn't tell her that she was as close to my idea of perfection as I'd ever seen.

Not having a clue on how to set up a special evening for her, I polled my female brain trust consisting of Lizzie (age 14), Darcy (age 24, my receptionist/junior CAD technician), Lisa (age 27, my newest project manager), and my mother (no, she wouldn't want me sharing her age). They were all glad to pitch in their two cents, giving me roughly the equivalent of eight cents and no good ideas. The ideas from several male friends and my dad probably didn't add up to 2 more cents between the lot of them.

One good thing did come out of the discussions; I was glad to hear that Lisa and Hogan had worked out their issues and were finally engaged. Hogan had attended a few company events over the past year and seemed to have finally recognized the true gem he'd already found.

Elena and I had several more dates over the nearly two weeks before Valentine's Day, and we spoke by phone or video conference most evenings when we didn't get together. She liked romantic comedies so we spent a Saturday when Finley was at his dad's watching movies, holding hands at first and snuggling together with my arm around her before the afternoon was over. We kissed a little, but held off on anything more physical, trying to give our relationship time to grow and develop without adding the stress physical intimacy might introduce.

As a result, I grew to care more about her with each passing day, with each conversation, each date, and each time we touched. Thinking of that and feeling "like" becoming something more, I spent some time each day trying to come up with that perfect Valentine's Day treat but finally realized that being together with her would make it a perfect day on its own accord.

Two nights before Valentine's Day, we had another date, this one a quiet evening at a little restaurant we'd both wanted to try. She'd made herself up and it reminded me of her during the height of her modeling career.

"Wow, Elena, words fail me. You're...perfect," I said when I picked her up at her home.

She grinned at me and replied, "You and that silly word. Always using it when it doesn't apply." She kissed me then, showing me how much she appreciated it despite her denial.

In the restaurant, we sat close, leaning in to each other to talk and touch like new lovers do; I loved her gentle caress, the smell of her hair and her perfume, and the warmth of her breath on my hand or ear when she whispered to me.

The server seemed to recognize our situation for she was like a ghost, there for a moment to take our order and then gone in an instant, leaving us to be together without distraction. She smiled at both of us, as if trying to draw us together. The young lady knew her job and she was very good at it.

It was, in a word, a perfect evening, the one I'd probably been envisioning for Valentine's Day—

"Hey! I know you!" said the man who appeared at our table with as much stealth as the waitress. Or maybe, as big and loud as he was, I'd just been distracted by Elena and my thoughts. To make matters worse, he had more than a little alcohol on his breath. He reached for her arm and said, "You're Alicia Astin! You were the hottest woman—"

When he started to reach out, I shot up from the table, interposing myself between them before he could touch her. "Mister," I interrupted in a loud and forceful voice, hoping to cut off or drown out any further comments before his apparent attempt at a compliment turned nasty, "you're drunk and you have the wrong person. Please go away and leave us alone."

"But she's—"

"With me and she's not whoever it is you're looking for. Go, or I'll call the cops."

He glowered at me, probably considering taking a swing. While he stood three or four inches above my 5'-10 and probably had 40 or 50 pounds on me, he was also drunk and he could see that I was pissed and wouldn't easily be pushed aside. He huffed, threw a vile insult under his breath, and walked away.

Hoping Elena hadn't heard him, I shook my head at him and thought, I don't know, asshole, but you never will.

I turned back to her and saw Elena was crying. She'd heard, all right, and I pulled her into my arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Do you want to go?"

She nodded and the waitress brought our meals to go rather than to the table. The manager comped it, apologizing for the interruption, and I left our waitress a great tip.

***

We ate in silence in her kitchen with Elena still visibly upset. She calmed somewhat when I took her hand and held it, trying to say with my touch what words couldn't adequately express.

When we finished, Elena looked at me, her eyes still cloudy, and said, "Dan, I'm so sorry. That—what happened tonight—has happened before when I'm in public."

I looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Elena, but I remember. I was one of them."

"But you were nice about it so hush." She flashed a hint of a smile at me before continuing, "That's why I usually don't wear much makeup or dress too fancy. I ended up with about thirty-five wigs over the years so no one would necessarily associate one particular hair color or style with me, but there's always someone out there who remembers me, who remembers their favorite photo where I had a certain style and color. Those are sometimes the ones who think that just because I did nude modeling for cash that I'm a complete slut and will be willing to listen to whatever they have to say, do whatever they want. When I won't, they hurl insults like that guy. 'You probably wouldn't be a good fuck anyway,'" she parroted, sounding at least a little like the insult he'd thrown. "That asshole!"

"I'm sorry, Elena. You don't deserve that."

"I'm sorry, too, Dan. You don't deserve it either, particularly not having to put up with assholes like that nor risk having to defend me every time we go out. I can't put you through that—"

"No, Elena," I said, shaking my head.

"—so I can't see you anymore. Please, just go. Just forget about me."

***

She wouldn't listen so I left like she'd requested, but I wasn't willing to accept any of it. I worked long and hard the next day and arranged it so I could take Valentine's Day off from work as a personal day.

There was a vase with a dozen roses outside the door to her yoga studio when she arrived to open that morning. The card read,

Elena,

I don't care about them. I care about you. Please be my Valentine.

Dan

I dropped them off less than ten minutes before she opened and hoped they'd still be there when she arrived. Her text minutes later proved they were.

Elena: Thank you, Dan. They're beautiful. It doesn't change anything though. The problem is still there.

I texted her back.

Dan: I don't care about the problem either. I care about you.

I watched my phone after hitting Send, seeing it be received, noticing that she'd read it, and seeing her starting to type something but then erasing it and stopping. I sighed, never having expected it to be that easy.

***

More flowers arrived at her studio, these delivered by the flower shop, at 11, noon, and 1. I didn't know if she was putting them in her office, on the front desk, or in the trash. She didn't send me any more messages and I started to worry that I'd messed up. If I had, she was really going to hate the next part.

I was waiting down the street when she pulled into her driveway and then into her garage. She'd be going to get Finley off the school bus shortly, so I waited a couple of minutes and then drove down and pulled into her driveway. Wearing a white t-shirt from my closet along with brown pants and white high-tops that I'd found at a Goodwill that morning, I put on the finishing touch, the only brown trench coat Goodwill had on the rack. It was a little tight through the shoulders, particularly for what I had planned, but I hoped it would be good enough.

From the back seat I pulled a boombox, or at least the closest thing the electronics store had to one that morning. Moving to the front of my car, I pressed Play and held it over my head with both hands, wondering all the while if this was as stupid as it felt or if Elena would even have a clue about what I was doing.

Peter Gabriel "In Your Eyes" started playing but it wasn't very loud so I lowered the box, turned up the volume, and started again.

A dog's bark caused my head to turn toward the sidewalk. A woman pushing a stroller while walking her dog had stopped and was smiling at me. She looked toward Elena's front door and then back to me. She sat there and I started to sweat even though it wasn't much over 50 degrees outside.

There was no reaction from the house, so I lowered the boombox once more, turned it up all the way, and restarted the song again. Stroller and Dog Lady smiled and gave me a thumbs up before continuing to focus on the front door.

The door opened then, but it was the door on the neighboring house, not Elena's, and an elderly woman came walking out to see what was causing the racket. She saw me, a light went on in her eyes, and she came over and joined Stroller and Dog Lady. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

I was getting really nervous by this point. It had to be about time for Elena to go to the bus stop to collect Finley, but she still hadn't come out. Looking about as uncomfortable as John Cusack had in the movie, I looked back at the two ladies only to find that there were now five ladies, a guy, and two more dogs watching my little show.

The song was ending and nothing had happened in the house so I started to lower the box and give up. It had been a stupid idea anyway. I'd read that even John Cusack, playing the character, thought it was a stupid idea in the movie. I sighed and lowered the box, debating whether I should try one more time.

"Play it again," called the elderly Neighbor Lady. She whispered something to the man who nodded.

With a deeper sigh, I pressed play one last time and slowly raised the box back over my head. By now, I was glad the store hadn't had a larger one.

The man, who'd now been joined by two other guys, at least a couple more women, and some young children, ran across Elena's yard, pressed the doorbell, frantically and several times it appeared, and then ran off the porch and down the side of her yard to rejoin the crowd. More people from down the street were hurrying up, coming to see what was happening.

I turned back toward the front door only to see it open and Elena to look out, a shocked expression on her face. She threw both hands over her mouth as she shook her head, and then she started coming toward me. A few steps in, she started to run and came even faster as she approached. I could see the tears in her eyes as she threw herself at me and wrapped her arms around me with the box still held over my head.

"I love you, Dan Carter. I love you so much," she shouted.

Doorbell Guy took the box out of my hands and lowered it while Neighbor Lady shouted, "Turn it down! Turn it down!" The volume was lower then and I wrapped my arms around Elena as someone pressed the button and started the song again.

"I love you, too, Elena Kempf," I told her, knowing that I really meant it.

***

I walked to the bus stop with Elena. There were a lot of people grinning at me and whispering to her. Elena spent the walk smiling as she held my arm.

"Finley, honey, this is Mr. Dan Carter," she told him after he got off the bus. "Dan's my new boyfriend and may come to the house sometime. Dan, this is my son, Finley Kempf."

The young man and I shook hands there at the bus stop and talked on the way home. Once there, he let me see some of the Lego kits he'd built in his bedroom and then we worked on a new set together.

Mrs. Kubichek, the Neighbor Lady, agreed to watch Finley again. "I took my husband to see that movie at the theater when it first came out, what? Thirty years ago? He always hated romantic comedies but he liked what came afterward. You really rocked it, young man."

I laughed at her comment and her compliment. I'd watched the movie on TV with Leigh sometime after we started dating, but I couldn't remember much about it except the one scene.

"Now, go treat her right," she added.

"Don't worry, ma'am. I will."

***

We canceled the dinner reservation I'd made nearly two weeks earlier, giving someone else a chance to get in sooner, and we went to my place to fix dinner instead. As soon as we were inside and I had the door closed, Elena wrapped her arms around me and said, "Dan, forget dinner. Take me to your bedroom and make love to me."

I looked at her in surprise so she put her finger to my lips and whispered, "Don't say anything, my sweet Valentine."

Believe me, I wasn't planning to. Our hands met and I led her upstairs.

Standing face to face next to my bed, we disrobed each other slowly and I saw my vision of perfection come to life before me. She placed her hand around my neck and pulled me into a kiss; I slid a hand around her waist and pulled her closer as my other hand cupped her breast for the first time.

Soft and supple, I kneaded her nipple a bit leading her to moan into my mouth. Her other hand cupped my balls and then slid up, her fingers encircling me to give me a slow, sensual pump.

"Mmmm," I moaned back at her, dropping my hand down to hold her sexy ass. I gave it a squeeze and a tiny smack, feeling its rebound under my palm. "Mmm-hmm," I moaned again, causing her to giggle in our kiss.

"You're silly," she accused me when we ended the kiss for a moment.

"And you're perfect," I replied.

She grinned but rolled her eyes at me, and I added, "And sexy as hell!"

"Mmm, Dan, I'm so glad you think so. You think we can?" She gave a little nod toward the bed, so I turned the cover back, helped her in, and then climbed in afterward.

We kissed and caressed for a while before I shifted to move down. She let me kiss her breasts—I recalled her size from back in her modeling days but knew now that numbers didn't matter when it came to such perfection. She shifted and squirmed as I loved on her nipples, throwing her head back in ecstasy as I brought them to hardness. My hands spread, I moved down, massaging her tummy and the soft, well-trimmed hair on her mound before reaching her legs and spreading wide to see her perfect little flower.

She was shaved down there and I loved the feel of her lips as I caressed them with my cheek. She quivered as I kissed the sides, her puffy outers, and nibbled the bits that projected out.

Opening her legs the rest of the way, her delicate lips slowly parted, allowing me to see a bit of the beautiful pink inside. I kissed and started to lick and it wasn't long before she was moaning.

"Dan, wait," she called, moving around in the bed. She ended on her side facing me but in the other direction. Raising her leg up, she gave me good access once again as she took my dick and balls in her hands and then the head in her mouth. As I focused on her clit, she started moaning again, but with her tongue and lips wrapped around me, I groaned and gave a shiver too.

When I started getting too close, I had her stop, pushing her to her back where I could dive in and finish the job on her. I moved back around to get a better angle and her moaning was soon increasing. She came that first time with her fingers grasping my hair, holding on as if for dear life.

"Oh, God, Dan," she moaned afterward. She gave a contented sigh and then pulled me up where we cuddled and kissed for a bit.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"So ready," I chuckled. Instead of lying back as I expected, she pushed me down and threw a leg across me where she rubbed her wet slit on my throbbing head. She writhed her pelvis against me and then grasped my rod and drove down on me.

Elena put her hands on my shoulders and let me massage her sweet breasts as she ground against me, up and down, front to back, over and over. Watching her facial expression as she watched me with love in her eyes, I realized she was getting good clit action in this manner. I moved my hands to interlace my fingers with hers as she kept rocking. As she tired, I took over, pumping from below, keeping her original pace at first before speeding up like a steam engine's drivers as we each neared our climax. My face must have been a frightful scene, scrunched up, teeth gritted, as I fought for those last few seconds, trying to drive her over the edge before I let fly.

Elena's face was beautiful and intense as she fought to get there; only then did I realize that, as beautiful as it was, was covered by a very similar look to my own, not beauty, not perfection, but love.

She moaned as the orgasm washed over her and I groaned as I let go and sent spurt after spurt of my seed flooding into her depths.

Our breathing and the soft whir of the ceiling fan were the only sounds for some time as we held each other. I finally drew a deeper breath and turned toward her where I kissed her shoulder.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Elena. I love you and I'm so glad we found each other."

She drew a deep breath, too, and turned toward me. Unlike me with her, she reached out and kissed my lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Dan. I love you too." A melancholy expression crossed her face. "But...Dan, you tease me about being perfect. That's not true, you know. What will happen when you realize that?"

I looked at her and smiled. "I know that sweetheart. Just look at your boobies. The left one is probably 2, maybe even 3 percent bigger than the right one."

She glanced down and cupped them, looking at them in horror, causing me to laugh out loud and her to punch me when she realized I was teasing her.