Well in Time for Valentines

He looked at me with concern, asking if I was okay. I felt that I had been torn asunder, and saw a red patch, develop on the towel that I had placed under my hips precisely to prevent a mess, ironically in the shape of a heart, proof of passing. But more than the ache was the realization that I had blossomed into a woman and my last frontier had been breached.

I had still not come, and asked him if I could be on top. He nodded,too tired to speak, marveling at my drive and my energy. We reversed positions and I straddled him, lining our loins up once more and lowering myself slowly, till I enclosed his shaft. Not only was he a perfect fit but I was experiencing the most amazing sensations, getting an internal massage, as I bounced up and down, slowly at first and then with increasing intensity.

It was much like riding a rodeo, my hair flying about wildly, as he held on tight kneading my swaying breasts with his palms. He was almost there and every thrust was smoother than a well oiled glove as my vaginal walls gripped his organ, inviting him into my parlor.

I could feel his organ vibrate, in anticipation of release and suddenly he pulsated deep within my depths filling me up with his cream. This triggered a series of orgasms of my own as I let out a primal scream, my walls coaxing out the remnants of his seed, before releasing their grip on his softening prick.

I collapsed on his chest, my body awash in sweat with all that exertion, and my womb full of his fecund seed. I felt a warmth of tenderness, radiate through my entire being, glowing with a love, that seemed boundless, as I was cocooned in his embrace, comfortable in his arms. As I drifted off to sleep, now a woman, fulfilled in every sense of the term, he was mine, and I his. In fact we were fused into one and merged in our love, as me became we, coming "well in time" for a perfect Valentine.