Valentine's Every-Day

I responded with a teasing, "Oh really..." and pulled her into my arms for a hello kiss that turned into four or five.

Breaking our kisses, I pointed at the bowls on the counter and said, "Let's eat before we... get too distracted."

Emily laughed and we sat at the kitchen table to eat our salads, chatting like the best friends we had become. Conversation flowed easily despite our recent complexities and was testament that our relationship was grounded and true. I felt closer to her than ever.

When finished, we both stood and placed our respective dishes in the kitchen sink. Emily turned to step away, but I quickly grabbed her by the waist and she squealed in surprise when I lifted her to sit on the edge of the counter. I stood between her legs, gazed into her eyes, and proclaimed from the depth of my heart, "I love you Emily Fulton."

I immediately pressed my lips against hers and she responded by wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching her legs around my waist. The slow, deep, passionate kisses that followed were an honest and true expression of our pure love, and nothing less.

Those first kisses filled with gentle romantic passion gradually evolved into more eager desire, our tongues exploring each other's mouths and searching for a greater depth of joining. I wrapped my arms around Emily's waist and lifted her from the counter, her arms and legs clutching me tight.

She giggled playfully as I collapsed backward on the sofa, her landing on top of me, straddled over my lap. Our kissing continued with her body pressed fully against mine, my hands roaming her back and enjoying the soft skin exposed by the open-back dress.

Emily occasionally shifted the weight of her hips from side to side as we made out. I sensed that maybe the position was uncomfortable for her, and asked between kisses, "Are you ok?"

She sat upright on my lap and reached for the bottom of her dress, "I'm fine, the dress is just bunched up and I can't move."

She planted her knees on either side of my lap and lifted upward to pull the dress out from underneath herself, revealing a quick glimpse of white low-rise bikini-style panties. At the same time, I took the opportunity to reach into my shorts and adjust my fully engorged cock to a more comfortable position, pointing the swollen head toward my stomach and utilizing the elastic waistband of my shorts to hold it in place.

Emily watched intently as I adjusted myself then momentarily studied the resulting bulge before pressing herself back against me. My length was firmly sandwiched between us and the feel of her body against mine was an indescribable new experience, even though it was through a few layers of fabric.

As we renewed our make-out session, Emily was enjoying the feel of my cock pressing into her stomach and slowly began inching her way up my body. When her mons came to rest over the base of my shaft, she began slowly rolling her hips forward in an effort to gain better contact with her panty-covered pussy. After repeated attempts without the desired effect, she momentarily pulled away from our kissing and very purposely shifted further upward to place her womanly heat squarely on the middle of my shaft.

She intently rocked her pelvis forward and backward, nestling my girth between her folds as much as the cotton barrier would allow, then increased her movement to slide up and down the length of the shaft. My hands instinctively moved to Emily's hips to reinforce her motions, then more boldly slid to cup and squeeze her ass.

The physics of her motions, and my erection's desire to stand upright, worked in concert to move the elastic waistband downward from where it had secured my cock against my stomach. The exposure was hidden from view by the hem of her sundress, but I easily distinguished the new sensation of her warm, wet cotton panties rubbing directly on the sensitive underside of my shaft.

We gazed lustfully into each other's eyes, heavily inhaling and exhaling, as Emily sat upright and wantonly pleasured herself on my length and girth. The movements pulled at the fabric of her sundress, rhythmically becoming taut with each cycling motion and imprinting her stiff nipples through the thin fabric. The temptation was too much, and my hands slid up the sides of her torso to cover her breasts through the dress.

Emily kept her eyes locked on mine when she brushed my hands away, then slipped the thin spaghetti straps off her shoulders allowing the top of the dress to fall away and pool around her waist. She continued grinding on my cock and watched intently as I took in the sight of her naked breasts for the first time. The perky mounds were in perfect proportion to her tiny frame and jostled slightly with each of her pelvic thrusts.

My fixation was interrupted by the longing in her voice, "Touch me Michael."

The luxuriously tender pillows conformed to the curvature of my hands, slightly puffy areolas and hardened nipples pressing into my palms. I kneaded them with fascination as Emily hastened her pelvic motions and vigorously crushed our genitals together with all her body weight. The product of her arousal copiously soaking through the thin panties and generously lubricating our 'dry' mating.

I cupped her breasts with my hands and squeezed them such that her nipples were gently pinched between my thumbs and forefingers.

The erotic sensations sent both of us over the edge. Emily's movements on my shaft became erratic and her entire body began trembling in the throes of orgasm. Simultaneously, my heavily swollen balls constricted and a torrent of cum surged through my cock, pumping stream after stream of milky fluid into the sundress that still draped over our joined mid-sections.

Emily collapsed onto my chest and laid motionless, only rising and falling with the movements of my chest as we both attempted to catch our breath. Once our breathing slowed, she spoke somewhat exhaustedly, "You didn't let me answer you earlier. I love you too, Michael Walker."

We laid together in post-orgasmic bliss for several minutes, lightly kissing and caressing. The repercussions weren't immediate like they were a few weeks before, but they did come.

We were both hit with the carnal reality of the situation when Emily climbed off me and we saw the front of her sundress completely soaked with a combination of our sexual fluids. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but the lewdly soiled dress was a graphic trigger for our guilt and shame.

We didn't have any way of cleaning and drying the dress in a reasonable amount of time, so we placed it in a grocery bag for her to take back to the dorm. Luckily, we had a small selection of women's gardening clothes in the hardware store, so Emily wrapped herself in a towel and we went down to the second floor, requisitioning a pair of women's overalls and a t-shirt.

It was better than nudity, but the ill-fitting clothing was an obvious sign that something was wrong, and it wouldn't be difficult for friends to figure out what was going on. We just hoped we could get her back to the dorm without someone noticing.

I led the way, walking a fair distance ahead of Emily and giving a signal behind my back if I saw someone approaching. On my cue, she would duck behind a tree, shrub, building, or other form of cover until they passed.

Our system worked well, but it could only go so far. Men weren't allowed in the women's dorm, so she would have to make the last leg of the journey on her own. We peered through the glass entryway and only saw the front desk student-worker who happened to be distracted with an iPad and earbuds. Emily made a break for it, quickly opening the door and scampering through the lobby until I lost sight of her.

I lingered outside the dorm for what seemed like forever before receiving a text, "Made it. Had to hide in the stairway for a couple minutes. Nobody saw me."

"Ok, good."

The adrenaline of sneaking Emily home faded as I walked back to the apartment, and it was replaced by the oppressive weight of guilt and remorse. Not only had I yielded to weakness and temptation, but we had broken even the most liberal definitions of Christian integrity and purity. Certainly privately, and almost publicly.

*******

I skipped my classes the next morning and laid in bed, wallowing in my guilt. Emily must have been doing the same, because I received a text from one of her friends asking if she was ok. She wasn't in class and wasn't answering her phone.

I called and she answered immediately, though with a somber voice, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I didn't feel like going."

"Me either."

"Emily, we have to talk about Valentine's Day. We both know what we're doing is wrong... we can't keep going on this roller coaster of euphoria and guilt."

She cried, and spoke in a trembling voice between sniffles, "I know... but... it doesn't feel wrong... when... we're together."

She was right and I didn't have a good retort other than 'the Bible says,' so I just stayed silent.

After a few moments of no sounds except for her muffled sobbing, she reiterated between gasps, "It... it doesn't feel wrong Michael. I love you... I want... nothing more than... to be... with you... emotionally... spiritually... sexually... and every other... way."

I gloomily agreed, "I know it doesn't make sense. I love you too, more than I can express with words."

We prayed over the phone for forgiveness and guidance.

*******

Everything Emily said was true and I ended the call with a sense of clarity. There was only one acceptable solution, and it was one that I embraced with enthusiasm and zeal. I cleaned myself up, put on a respectable outfit, and marched with determination over to Dr. Fulton's office.

I knocked on his door and heard his call, "Come in."

He extended his handshake in greeting as I shut the door behind me.

"Hello Michael."

"Hi Dr. Fulton."

He looked at me knowingly, "I presume this is not an academic visit?"

"No, sir. I've come to ask for Emily's hand in marriage."

Dr. Fulton smiled and said, "I suspected this question would be coming soon."

He paused in thought for a few excruciating moments, then queried, "Do you love my daughter?"

He already knew the answer and was more focused on assessing my sincerity.

"Yes sir, with all my heart, mind, and soul."

"Have you been a spiritual leader and maintained integrity during your courtship?"

I anticipated he would ask me that question, or something similar, but it still gave me pause. He was my future wife's father and I owed him an honest answer.

"I've always sought God's Will and direction for us, but I've made mistakes. I vow to continue seeking God and be the best leader and husband I can be for your daughter."

He raised his eyebrows a bit and probed deeper, "Have you maintained my daughter's purity?"

"We've... I've had physical temptations and, with God's Grace, have done my best to resolve them with integrity. I know that is a vague answer, so I'll cut to the root of the issue and tell you that we are both still virgins."

I paused for a second, then added, "I'm ashamed that I couldn't come to you with a simple 'Yes' to that question."

"I can respect that. Thank you for your honesty."

He stood and extended his hand to me, "I've never seen Emily look at someone the way she looks at you. She loves you very much, Michael. Make her happy."

*******

I used the rest of that morning for planning, then enlisted help from four of Emily's closest friends that afternoon. I laid out the plan and the girls were giddy with excitement, eager to do everything I asked. I only hoped they could keep the secret for 24-hours.

Early the next morning, I sent Emily a text message, "I love you, Emily. I think it might be good to enjoy some simple time together... maybe get some ice cream. Will you take a walk with me this afternoon?"

"I would like that. I love you, too."

I walked to the residence hall dressed in a nice pair of linen khakis and a white button-down linen shirt. Emily was sitting on a bench outside the entrance dressed in a white knit summer dress and white, flat strappy sandals. It was a simple dress with modest neckline and hemline, but she made it look absolutely stunning. Her woven wire necklace and bracelet complemented the dress nicely.

"I see you have your walking shoes on."

She giggled, pointed her feet outward, and said sweetly, "Yes, I do!"

I took her hand in mine and we strolled through campus talking and laughing just as we always had. Despite our challenges with temptation, our relationship was simple and effortless. It just felt right.

As we approached Stern Hall hand-in-hand, I passively steered us through one of the passageways leading into the courtyard garden. Emerging into the courtyard, Emily covered her nose and mouth with her hands, and tears began streaming down her cheeks.

Her parents, my parents, and all our closest friends stood in a semi-circle around the back side of the central fountain. A cascade of red, pink, and white paper hearts hung from the courtyard trees and shrubs, while a trail of red rose petals led toward a simple white chair surrounded by a dense mat of rose petals.

I ushered her to the chair where she sat, and I kneeled in front of her.

"Emily, you are my best friend and I love you with every fiber of my being. I know you are the marriage partner God made for me and, if you will have me, I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Valentine?"

Nobody standing around us understood the significance of that last question, but we did, and that's all that mattered.

Emily screeched, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and threw her arms around me as I kneeled in front of her. Everyone clapped and cheered as I slid a woven wire and resistor engagement ring on her finger, and we held each other tightly in an all-consuming embrace.

I could feel Emily's streaming tears as our cheeks pressed together and she whispered in my ear, "I want you so bad right now, Michael Walker."

I whispered back, "After we're married, Emily Fulton, it can be Valentine's every day."

*******

Emily didn't waste any time planning the wedding and quickly set a date for the end of July based on earliest availability of the church and reception venue. She chose a beautiful, historic lakeside retreat center that was once a hunting club for titans of the industrial revolution. She occasionally asked my opinion on things, but I wanted it to be her day, and my 'opinion' always supported hers.

I told Mr. Jacobs the news, to which he responded, "It's about time you married that girl!"

He was also thrilled that I would be staying in town through the summer and could work full-time at the hardware store. He asked me to take a more active role in managing the store and insisted on a rather healthy increase in pay. I offered to start paying rent, but he refused saying it wasn't really costing him anything for me to live there, and I needed to save the money.

Emily was fortunate to be offered a paid position at the Christian school summer camp and readily accepted.

Graduation came in early May. I received my Bachelor of Civil Engineering degree, and Emily received her Bachelor of Education degree. We both walked the stage and went out for a nice dinner with our families. Though our parents were very different, they genuinely enjoyed each other's company and conversation was easy. Mom asked Emily a lot of questions about her teaching degree and seemed to be reliving fond memories of her own college years.

Both of our respective parents quizzed us on our plans for living arrangements and careers after marriage. We responded that we both had some interviews scheduled but were still open minded and seeking God's guidance.

Emily and I celebrated the achievement alone together by going for ice cream and a long walk after dinner.

With a wedding within sight, we had vowed to resist our physical desires, limiting ourselves to hugs and 'reasonable' kissing. Kissing escalated a little beyond reasonable on a few occasions, including on a bench that night after graduation, but we did pretty well for the most part. Our clothes stayed on and there weren't any orgasms.

*******

The wedding was beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as Emily. I stood in my tuxedo at the front of the church and was moved to tears as her dad walked her down the aisle. I loved her beyond all words, and she was absolutely radiant.

She seemingly floated down the aisle in a stunning white satin and lace dress. The satin bottom billowed outward from a narrow-ribboned waistline into a simple, unadorned floor-length skirt. In contrast, the top was a fitted satin bodice with sweetheart neckline, ornately overlayed with lace patterning. The lace extended above the satin as a sheer lace fabric to create a secondary rounded neckline and full sleeves. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back into a small bun and adorned with wisps of baby's breath flowers. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.

The pastor led us through traditional vows after both of us took a couple minutes to exchange our own personal, heartfelt words. Once complete, our friends and family cheered as the pastor announced, "You may kiss your bride."

The reception was equally as beautiful as the wedding. Emily had done an amazing job orchestrating the decorations, dinner, and procession of activities.

While dinner was served, we led each other around the large timber-frame hall, introducing each other to our respective friends and families that the other didn't know and chatting with those we did.

It was a whirlwind experience, and our first dance was also the first 'alone-time' we had together since saying 'I do'. Emily reached her arms upward and hung them around my neck, while mine encircled her torso. We held each other tight, making slow circles in time with the music. Emily pulled my neck downward and we kissed as we spun.

I whispered in her ear, "Will you be my Valentine tonight?"

She responded with a deep, lustful kiss then said, "I'm counting the minutes."

After that, so was I. We continued dancing and mingling with guests, but my mind and body were distracted, and growing increasingly eager to physically express my love with Emily.

At the end of the evening, we said our goodbyes to friends and family that remained before packing Emily and her billowing skirt into the backseat of a rented Lincoln Town Car. My best man and Emily's maid-of-honor sat in the front seat and drove us to a historic bed & breakfast where I had reserved the honeymoon suite for the night.

The four of us chatted casually and reminisced the evening's highlights as we made the 20-minute drive. Emily and I held hands in the back seat, resisting the urge to maul each other in view of the unmarried couple in the front seat.

The exterior stone and brick of the old lumber baron mansion was softly illuminated as we approach the auto court, giving a regal sense of arrival. We said goodbye to our chauffeurs and quickly made our way up the monumental entry stairs and into the foyer. A trail of red rose petals led from the foyer, up an intricately carved-wood staircase, and through the large oak doors of the honeymoon suite.

We held hands as we slowly climbed the staircase, then practically ran into the suite as fast as Emily's dress would allow. I closed the doors behind us then swept Emily into my arms, following the trail of rose petals to a king-size four poster bed.

I laid her on the bed and climbed over the top of her, suspending myself over her tiny frame and looking into her eyes, "I love you Emily Walker."

"I love you too, Michael Walker."

I leaned downward and pressed my lips against hers with hunger and desire. She matched my eagerness and our mouths frantically searched for a deeper and deeper joining. I struggled to shed my tuxedo coat as I suspended myself above her, and she impatiently tugged at my shirt.