The Real Valentine's Day Gift

I was bending over to pick up something from the floor when I was impaled.

At least, that is how it seemed.

No words, no touches, no warning, no preamble. We were having a regular conversation about the weekend plans and I was tidying up, my hair piled atop my head in a messy bun, make up from the night before a bare memory across my face. Only the uncommon length and sootiness of my lashes hinted I'd been anything but barefaced and natural. Sure, it wasn't quite Valentine's Day yet but I didn't want to end up spending the day worrying about the state of the house when I'd rather worry about the state of my arousal... and yours. Well, apparently, that latter worry was far more apparent for you at this moment than the former!

My knees nearly buckled, unprepared for the sudden invasion, and I hardly registered the wet slide as you buried your cock deep into me, a single, perfect, wordless claiming of my body that left my mouth parted and wetly open, imagining another cock buried to the root between my lips as you worked the wetness between my thighs with a proprietary growl.

"You were ready for me," you breathe hotly into my ear.

I don't stifle the moan as I writhe my body suggestively under yours, squeezing your cock intimately with my body as I do. "Of course." I lean back a little, pressing my spine to your chest, rolling my hips against you, letting you feel the heat of my wetness stroking you like a warm, wet, velvet fist. "I am always ready for you. Even when you aren't home, I am imagining your body inside mine, taking me, using me, making me cum for you, teasing me until I can't control myself. I am.... *always*... wet for you, always aching, throbbing, needing you, in some way."

The growl of passion that tears from your throat as your mouth clamps down on my shoulder is almost enough to make me rise off the hard member inside of me, but you hold me fast as your teeth set into the flesh of my neck and shoulder and a hand captures my left breast, the sharp pinching at the nipple perhaps too hard for anyone else at any other time....for me, right now, my head a fog of heated lust, it only makes me spasm harder and let out an almost tortured cry of approval.

"Mine." You growl softly, your body being far more gentle than your tone, and my own form feeling like it is on fire beneath you. I want nothing more than to ride you, fuck you, bring myself upon you over and over, but you hold me fast and it only serves to make my body weep around yours all the more, slick silky trails of moisture spreading across the interior of my thighs as you continue to hold me, pinioned and grasping, upon the stiff intrusion of your cock wedged deep into my core.

"Gods yes." I gasp, and you wrap my hair into a rope around your fist as you move me to kneel and lay myself over the arm of the couch, no motion gentle, but each one infused with so much love and desire that the roughness is never uncomfortable. In fact, I just want more discomfort, if I am honest. I want it to hurt, just a little... because that tiny sliver of discomfort will make my body dissolve into a flood of wet cum, and I know it. If anything, your reverence chafes at me, and I don't want you to be kind. I want to be used. I want to be pushed. I want to be....

"Such a good slut." You murmur, making quick work of the last few articles of remaining clothing I possess by unceremoniously tugging them from my body and tossing them aside, leaving me bent before you, open, bare and vulnerable even as you remain nearly entirely dressed, appearing so very in control... save that I know that look in your eyes, and we both know *I* am not the one fighting to keep it together. That awareness makes me smile internally and I deliberately reach behind to squeeze your cock gently in my hand, it having slid from me as you moved me to the arm of the couch. Watching your feral gaze break a moment as you falter and moan, going stock still, I don't even hide the smile of wicked delight.

"Yes." I respond, slowly stroking you without pause. "I am a good slut. And you love me for it. You love knowing you can just come home and flip up my skirt and bury your cock inside my pussy and it will be hot, wet, and waiting for you. You love knowing I am ALWAYS wet for you, wanting you, needing you, desiring you... wanting you to come and claim me anywhere, any time, where anyone can see it.... even in public."

The moan that tugs from your chest makes my fist clench around you harder as I know I've hit on a very specific thing about me you love, something I adore about myself that I treasure giving you everyday, something that is only mine to give.... the acknowledgement of the depth of my desire and depravity and my ability to love and submit to it. To be aware that this thing we do, this game we play, these characters we embody, are more who we are at our essence than the daily wax mannequins that go about our daily routines, running errands, paying bills, raising children and wearing polite society smiles. When we are like this, there are no walls and you see me as I am, for all that I am. You grant me this beautiful gift.... the ability to be myself, untamed and completely unashamed and unapologetic.

You make me whole. You light the sacred flame in my soul. You know exactly how coax me to be my best, my most beautiful... and if I am honest, seeing as it is nearly the day when good boys and girls should be tipping their hats to the Gods and Goddesses of love, sex, desire and fulfillment, you also know how to make me feel more loved than any woman has a right to.

You can call me "slut", but we both know what you mean is that I am a creature of flame that will devour your cock as soon as worship it with equal amount of lust, glee and appreciation. You can claim I am property, but we both know what you mean is that I am treasured, to be loved and protected, placed above all others, and treated with a reverence reserved for jewels. You can say that you will punish me for disobedience but when I disobey it's because I love the sting of your hand across my ass, the firm hold of your hands at my throat, the sharp bite of your teeth in my flesh and even my punishments are a source of unending joy and delight for me.

I want nothing more than to make you smile... and to make you cum for me. That is all. I can think of no better gift to give you not just on Valentine's Day, but every day. This, my will, my desire, my lust, my heart... my soul.

"Take me," I whisper.

The darkness that invades your eyes makes my cunt grasp you tightly, aware that I have finally unearthed that part of you that speaks to the darkest, greediest, neediest, most volatile spark within my own spirit. That part of you that could very well hurt me if you let it... but you never could. There is too much between you and I, too many vows, too much love. While we ride the jagged edge of abandon, neither of us will ever really harm the other; we just aren't built that way. Not anymore. Maybe once, when we were young and stupid and didn't understand what real love was, and sex seemed to just be about the next orgasm. But not anymore. Now, the depth and darkness we allowed ourselves was just another facet and flavor of our union, a delicious spiced wine that is an impossible vintage to find or replicate. And I reveled in its decadence.

"And you like pushing me," You observe roughly, moving a hand down the front of our bodies to rub the insistent swell of my clit as your other hand clasps my body firmly to your front, molding me to you, no inch untouched. "Would you like it if I told you that you didn't have permission to cum?"

The words are enough to nearly make me lose my control and I know you can feel the sudden damp splash across your fingertips as a sudden wave of wetness issues from my cunt beneath your hand and I verbally moan aloud, unable to control the reaction your words evoke, my breathing now coming in short, quick, heated gasps as I try to maintain control over myself. "I will love anything you do to me." I manage to whimper as your hand curls around my throat once more, stroking the length of my neck as I arch against you, whimpering.

"Oh. Well, then." With a teasing note, you release me with a kiss and move as if to leave me abandoned and only half fucked over the side of the couch, and I cannot even manage a look of shocked outrage.

"Don't you fucking DARE!"

The laugh is genuine, but we both know the threat isn't. There is no walking away from this, not now. Laughing, you rid yourself of your clothes, and then drag me to you on my back, placing my open, defenseless body before you as I stare up, my gaze a heated beam of sheer unbridled need as I move it over your beloved body.... a body I want to do all sorts of creative things to.

"Fuck me." I instead say simply.

"No." Your gaze settles deep into mine as you move and position my body, angling my hips so that you can slide over me in *just* the right way... piercing inside my body so deeply, I swear I can feel the opening of my cervix like a small mouth upon the tip of your amazing cock as you slowly work yourself in and out of me.

The slow, sensual nature of it is more torture than if you had tied me up and whipped me. I almost want to crawl out of my flesh, so intense this burning arousal you were slowly building me. I wanted a hot, fast, intense fuck that would quickly feed my need to cum, but this... this...

"There we go," you say with a small smile of satisfaction, watching the slide of emotions over my face, the roll of my eyes, and wet gape of my parted lips. "There's my girl...."

My hands are clawing at your shoulders and dimly I think for a moment you ought to have tied me up because the sensations were so intense, I wanted little more than to tear into your body with my teeth and claws and bathe in your essence until my flesh stopped shining like a golden beacon of pleasure. I might have worried for your safety, so gone was I in ecstasy. But you held me, worked me, controlled me, your firm hands and measured words guiding me higher and taking from me my cares. You made me feel like a Goddess, made of pure flame, laid before you, her only purpose to do nothing but cum over and over upon the shaft of her Lord's cock until He was done with her.

And I wanted to give you everything and never stop.

I barely acknowledged the spread of dampness that soaked beneath me, flying so high in your embrace, my body leaking tears of joy over your thrusting cock, saturating the surface beneath me. I should have cared. I didn't. All I cared about was the building brightness in my mind, the trembling of my body, the incredibly seductive snarls of passion being pulled from your lungs as you begin to lose control inside my body, and that ever shining precipice of orgasmic perfection that we reached only so very often, but when we did.... it seemed like a melding of the soul, not merely that of the body or mind.

I was made for this.

I was made for you.

You are the best Valentine's Day gift I ever received. And I can only hope that you'll accept me as your gift.... every day, no matter what month it is. Because, truly, we have been blessed.

I Love you.

Happy Valentine's Day.