The New Valentine

by Sharlene Alba 6 months ago in erotic

Erotic Prompts Series

The New Valentine

What was it about me that made all men scurry away from the potential of something real? I didn't want to be bitter. But the aftertaste of being stood up once again, and on Valentines Day no less, planted itself within my taste buds along with the last glass of complementary wine my best friend's restaurant was allowed to offer me. I hated sulking in front of strangers. They'd witness my pathetic attempt at dismissing my misery in between snacking on appetizers and re-reading the same menu I've read over hundred times. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to go out on a blind date set up by my absent best friend today of all days.

Maybe it was too soon. The heartbreak I endured the day I buried my husband three years ago due to brain cancer, wasn't as palpable as it once had been, but it wasn't something someone like me would ever forget. I grieved for a man who did nothing but love me in a way that was as reckless and painful as the rough childhoods we both ran away from. And boy did we run. We ran right into the real world, where love wasn't enough to sustain two damaged highschool sweethearts, who had no clue how to lick each other's wounds long enough to make it last or end on good terms.

I wanted to believe I buried that part of me along with him. The rebellious and shameless shadow that followed me around whenever I had been in his presence was to be put to rest along with our memories and a love that was doomed from the start. I was ready now. The memories we shared were no longer crushing my lungs with every breath I took, or forcing me to go days without sleep due to the overwhelming sadness consuming me without him being beside me. Their only purpose now was to remind me to stay away from people who mirrored how incredibly messed up I was.

"Lights out in two minutes," Lucas, my gracious waiter for the evening informed me and I nodded, slipping him a twenty, and grabbing my purse from the back of my chair.

"Rough night?" The question came from my best friend, Nathan Adoubon, who had managed to break free from his busy evening of cooking for the crowded restaurant up until now. He stood proudly by the kitchen double doors while he dried his hands clean with a small kitchen towel, his piercing green eyes intent on figuring out what was wrong with me before I even said a word. He had a habit of seeing through me and he was probably the only person in the world who was allowed to. My dead husband envied him for it, and even tried to keep us a part for a while. Until he realized there wasn't much you could do with the kind of chemistry that burned so bright and so easily, that forcing distance upon it would only make it burst into the kind of flames you wouldn't know how to put out.

Nathan and I didn't do well without each other. And that's exactly how I ended up marrying the wrong man in the first place. His parents had forced him to move across the country our senior year, leaving me behind to settle back into old bad habits, like growing attached to emotionally unattainable guys, and marrying them in the hopes of perhaps one day turning them into the kind of men that didn't remind me of my absent father. Of course, that quickly turned into three years from Hell by the time I found out my husband was dying of brain cancer.

By then it was too late. Too late to decide to get up, walk away and start somewhere new. I was his wife. I made a choice. And he had no one else to care for him. In the end, he apologized for dragging me down along with him. And I apologized for loving him enough to let him.

"I told you blind dates were lame," I reminded him as he placed his towel in his back pocket and the corners of his mouth tried to keep themselves from forming a smile.

"Maybe he was just a little nervous," he offered as he gestured towards the kitchen and I followed him. He usually closed up during Valentines Day when he had no hot dates and the rest of the kitchen staff seemed to have gone home already. It was just him and I alone in the spotless kitchen now.

"Nervous? People still get nervous during blind dates?" I feigned shock and watched him roll his eyes.

"You don't give yourself enough credit. You're a fucking knockout and any guy would lose their mind in your company," he insisted, as he reached into a bowl of fresh strawberries, picked one and dipped it into a bowl of melted chocolate. He fed it to me and I instantly died from the decadent sugar explosion.

"Oh yeah? I don't see you losing your marbles over me," I joked as I reached for another strawberry and dipped it into the chocolate, unfortunately allowing some of it to drizzle down my chin and plunging neckline.

"Oh, shoot! Hand me a napkin, will ya?"

Nathan didn't move a muscle. He simply stood in front of me, marveling at the mess that was his best friend. But there was something else dancing in his eyes tonight. Something I'd seen before but never bothered to entertain because the thought was so ludicrous that I didn't put any effort into starting a conversation about it. Nathan Adoubon was staring into my defeated soul tonight and resuscitating it with his burning gaze. It was unexpected to say the least, how incredibly flushed my cheeks were now, my legs growing weaker the closer he gravitated towards me, and how undeniably wet I had gotten within the last five seconds without him barely touching me.

"I think my tongue can clean you up just fine, Amanda," he promised huskily, setting both of his knees onto the kitchen floor, his hands on my exposed legs as they hiked up towards my thigh-length skirt. Would it be crossing a line if I admitted I wanted nothing more than his tongue inside me? I didn't have to beg him for it. Nathan knew exactly where to go. He'd been my first at the tender age of sixteen and we weren't experienced in all things sex at the time. But the hormones had been devils on our shoulders for weeks before we had decided to give our bodies to on another.

We hurt alot of people back then. So much so, that we vowed to never speak of it again. But there was no one left to hurt but each other now.

Nathan's lips kissed their way towards my inner thigh, his hands pushing my skirt up towards my abdomen until he reached for my red satin panties and slipped them down my legs, tucking them into his pocket, followed by a grin. I watched him as he slowly parted my legs, and continued to kiss his way towards my damp folds. Once I felt his tongue flick at my throbbing clit, my back arched, my body grew tense with anticipation, and my hands weaved into his thick jet-black hair. While his warm mouth and tongue made themselves at home in between my legs, I reached for the small bowl full of melted chocolate and dipped my fingers into it. I slid those two fingers down until they were coating my swollen folds completely.

I almost came when Nathan groaned into my soaking wet mound. The tip of his tongue teased and flicked over my sensitive nub until I could feel another wave of pleasure rock through me as he licked off the chocolate delicately. I was so close, I thought I'd lose my mind the moment his tongue stopped moving inside me. He stood up, pressed his body against mine and kissed me instead. I could feel how hard his cock was, how much he wanted to finish this, but he seemed to be taking his time. He explored every inch of my mouth, our tongues colliding until I could no longer taste myself or the chocolate I provided for him.

He reached for another strawberry, swirled his tongue over it once and slipped it inside of me slowly, causing me to gasp lightly, my hands clutching at his growing erection. As he slipped the strawberry in and out of me, I unzipped his pants and brought out his springing cock. It was long and hard and I bit my lip as I tried to remember what it felt like inside me all those years ago.

Of course the sixteen year old me wasn't in the position to appreciate the male form in its entirety at the time. But I could sure appreciate how absolutely stunning and well-groomed Nathan had kept himself now. I stroked at his length, using his pre-cum as lubrication while he used the strawberry to make me cum for the first time tonight. It washed over me quickly, without control, forcing my body to surrender to its tremors as it recovered from the highs of desire.

My clit throbbed again the moment Nathan took the soaked strawberry coated in my natural juices and began to lick it slowly before he ate it. God, the man was insanely sensual and I wasn't sure why he'd chosen to be single all these years. To be honest, I wasn't sure why I never asked to begin with. Maybe there was a part of me that was too afraid to know.

I refocused my energy on his pulsing cock and kept stroking him. With every moan he made against the crook of my neck, the closer I got to being ready for a second round of pleasure. His hands made their way inside my blouse, and gripped at my full breasts as I stroked faster, using his thumbs to rub my nipples into hardened peaks. When I felt him about to explode into my hands, he pulled them away and began to suck on my nipples, one my one, biting and teasing them until they were raw and sensitive enough for me to whimper for more.

As soon as he was finished licking off the chocolate that had fallen in between the valley of my breasts, he hoisted me up onto the prepping counter, the bowl of strawberries and chocolate shattering onto the floor as he slid his hard length inside of me. He plunged deep into me slowly, his hand at my hip, my hands at his shoulders, until his cock completely filled me.

Nathan rested his forehead and his lips on mine as he began to thrust in and out of my slickness. If he went any slower, I'd go mad. I kissed away from his his lips and up to his ear, giving it a bite of encouragement to go faster. He grunted briefly and his grip on my hip tightened as he picked up the pace. His cock plowed into me until I couldn't breathe, coercing another orgasm to flow violently through me as his own body shook from the pleasure plaguing him as well.

He didn't stop fucking me. He used his thumb to rub circles over my clit, his shaft pumping faster and deeper, forcing a loud moan to slip out of me as I came again. Nathan's lips stole the last breath I had before I collapsed into his arms and chest. He held onto me tightly as I closed my eyes and allowed my body to recover, and my heart to regain its normal rhythm once again, eventhough I knew it would never really beat the same around Nathan ever again.

"Not bad for a blind date, huh?" Nathan mentioned, amusement in his eyes as I looked up at him. The restaurant. The no-show. The strawberries and chocolate. I should've known!

"It was you all along," I concluded, as his hand cupped my cheek and he kissed my forehead.

"It's always going to be me," he stated with a knowing smile, as if his words were already set in stone for future events, written in the stars. Damn, the man was good.

"Are we ready this time around?" I inquired, worried that we might not be thinking this all the way through. We did just have amazing sex. It tended to mess with people's minds a bit.

"Sounds like I'm going to have to spend the rest of this Valentine's Day proving just how ready I am to give you the happiness you deserve," Nathan added with another one of wolfish grins. He knew he'd get whatever he wanted with that smile of his. And apparently, that included me.

"For how long?" I worried too much. It was one of my many flaws. Lucky for me, Nathan was immune to them.

"Until we get sick of each other," he teased, and kissed the pout away from my lips, "and then I'll remind you why no one else will ever make sense."

"Smooth talker, huh?"

"Not with you. With you, it's always the truth," he stated, staring down into my eyes before planting another skin melting kiss. I smiled against his lips and sighed deeply.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Nathan."

"Happy Valentine's Day, my forever valentine."

erotic
Sharlene Alba
Sharlene Alba
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Sharlene Alba

Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry fleekonabudget Facebook: grungefirepoetry

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