Fuck Valentine's Day

by C. M. Stunich

  I swallowed hard, and realized that only a complete and utter idiot would go down on their knees and suck a guy in the middle of a courtyard at one of the busiest universities on the West Coast. Idiot then I must be.

  I pulled away from Quinn's mouth and sunk down, convinced that I was totally blowing it with my Mystery Man by doing this, but sort of unable to stop myself. I was a kink. Yes, I'll admit that. A virgin kink. Do you know how hard that is? I thought about dirty stuff, dreamed about dirty stuff, and never got to do dirty stuff. Plus, you know, I blamed the upcoming holiday and all of its pushy, lovey crap. Couples everywhere were amping up their PDAs, buying each other kitschy shit, and just generally being assholes to the rest of us that would like to have a sex partner. So maybe it wasn't the 'right' thing to do, but right and wrong are relative and I wanted to do it. I wanted to suck Quinn Prentis's cock.

  “Guess the box of chocolates worked?” Quinn joked as I examined my prey and tried to figure out what to do with it. I resisted the urge to flick him in the nuts and tried to concentrate.

  “I said I wouldn't touch your dick just because you bought me a box of chocolates. This has nothing to do with that.” And then I just went for it, wrapped my mouth around the end of Quinn's dick and swirled my tongue around in a circle. His hands came down right away and tangled in my hair for dear life.

  “You fucking rock, Andi,” Quinn growled which made my heart pump faster and my skin tingle with need. Shit, this is hot. I slid my mouth down as far as it would go until I felt the head of Quinn's cock pressing into the back of my throat. “I think I'm in love,” he groaned as I slid back, grazing my teeth gently along his skin and pausing as I tried to recall some tips Gen had given me. Whatever she said about sex, I believed because I had the sneaking suspicion that she was a nymphomaniac and she had plenty of practice at the art.

  Grab the base of his cock with your hand and pump it while you suck the tip. If he's uncircumcised, make sure you move that skin around with your tongue; he'll love that. This doesn't work for all guys, but it's like BJ 101, you know? You can't go wrong with this.

  So I did what she said and used my tongue to suck gently on Quinn's foreskin while my hand worked the shaft of his cock. His grip on my hair got tighter and his fingers were almost painful, but there was a pleasure to it that made my lower parts throb and had me wishing I'd taken him up on his offer to go somewhere yesterday. Oh yes, I very much wanted to fuck Mr. Prentis.

  “You've got it,” he told me and seconds later, he was thrusting into my face and coming. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I swallowed it. It was hot and salty and kind of gross, but also sort of sexy, too. Goddamn, I'm a pervert. “Holy shit,” Quinn breathed as I stood up and watched him zip his pants in the nick of time. A giggling couple came around the corner of the hedges next to the classroom, swinging their hands and gazing at one another with sheer, unadulterated affection. Disgusting. “Please tell me you'll go out with me tonight.” I wrinkled my nose and glanced over my shoulder. It only took me about two seconds to find what I was looking for. I spun around right away and just stared.

  My secret admirer had left me another Valentine's Day card with yet another hunk o' burning love on the front. I knew it was from him because there was a pink, glittery handcuff sticker on the lower right hand corner. I wondered briefly how he knew I was going to be the first one to get to it when the thought came to me.

  “Oh my God, he was watching us,” I whispered as Quinn wrapped his arms around my waist and started kissing my neck. My whole body went up in flames and I nearly melted.

  “Who was watching us?” he whispered as I reached up and plucked the card from its position next to a green flyer advertising a used motorcycle. “'Cause that's kinda hot.”

  “Quinn,” I said as I spun around and tried not to think about Mystery Man staring at me while I went down on the totally sexy badass/douche bag that was Quinn Prentis. What was I thinking? “I'm busy tonight. Call me tomorrow?” And then I took off, forgetting that he didn't even have my number.

  Happy Fucking Valentine's Day, Bitch said the card that my stalker – grr, my secret admirer – left me. Inside, in that tiny, perfect script it also told me that, I would never talk to you like that – unless you wanted me to. Come find me. And then there was an address, one that I knew well because it was across the street from the campus.

  My Mystery Man lived in Crest Haven Apartments.

  I slapped the card against my forehead and tried to breathe. Going to a creepy apartment complex alone was not a good idea. I needed to take someone with me. Gen had already left with Lance for the weekend and I couldn't imagine any of my other friends being much help in a dangerous situation of any sort. They were all limp-wristed toots as far as I was concerned.

  I had to call Quinn. Or Preston, I added unconsciously. But then, why would he come along? I mean, he did kiss me, but I still didn't know what that meant. Quinn, well, he owed me. Sort of. I mean, it wasn't like I was a prostitute or anything, but I did blow him off in the courtyard in front of our lit class, so I was guessing that if I asked him out, he'd say yes. I didn't exactly have to tell him what I needed him for, did I?

  I stood up, tucked my new card in my handcuff box and picked up my phone to call Quinn. As I scrolled through my contacts, I started to get irritated. It was nearly four in the afternoon and he hadn't called me, not once. Then I got to to the end of the alphabet and realized that he didn't have my number. Fuck.

  Now what?

  I stood up and kept scrolling, desperate to find someone, anyone, that I thought might be able to protect me against my possibly dangerous secret admirer. I was still of the mind that he was going to be one, hot tamale, but then there was always a chance that my pulsing clit and raging libido were clouding my mind.

  Horny Andi: Why don't you just go hire a hooker? They've got some nice, clean ones in Vegas.

  Rational Andi: Why fork out the dough when she's got Quinn around? I bet that boy would be damn good in bed. I mean, with the thousands upon thousands of practice sessions he's no doubt participated in, his skill shouldn't even have to be called into question.

  Horny Andi: He does have tattoos …

  Rational Andi: Yes, yes, he does.

  “Would you guys shut the fuck up?” I said aloud which was probably a really bad sign. At least there was nobody around to hear me losing it. That's a good thing, right? I paused in the P's and noticed that I had Preston's number. “When the fuck … ” I began and then remembered that he was once a project leader in my bio class and gave us all his number then. I chewed my lip until it was sore and squeezed my eyes shut. I pressed send and waited with a sick feeling in my gut for Mr. Ellis to answer the phone. It didn't even ring. It was like he was waiting for my call and suddenly, he was just there on the other end of the line.

  “I was hoping you'd call,” he said and his voice friggin' oozed through the speaker and fucked my ear. What the hell?

  “Um, hi,” I said, and I sounded like a high schooler calling up her crush for the first time. I cleared my throat and tried to sound nonchalant and carefree, like I was just checkin' in about that whole kiss thing or whatever. “Hey, are you familiar with that big white apartment building across the street from the north entrance to campus?”

  “Crest Haven?” Preston asked, sounding completely and utterly confused. Nice, he fucks my ear, and I don't even acknowledge that fact. I've been crushing on this guy for two years, and this is the best I can do? “Yeah, why?”

  “I, um, do you think you might be able to head over there with me today? I have a friend who's sick and needs me to stop by for a second, but I don't trust that neighborhood … ” Preston laughed and my lady parts got all giddy and started sending these tingly signals to my brain that made me feel like I was floating on candy clouds. Yummy.

  “Absolutely,” Preston said and then paused. “Was that friend me?” he asked and my heart leapt into my throat. Oh my god … is it … is it him? I swallowed
hard, too stunned to speak. If the first and second man on my crush list were one in the same, then Quinn could kiss my ass, because I was going to be handing Preston my virginity with a fucking bow and some sparkly wrapping paper. When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. “I mean, I live here. I thought you knew that.”

  Oh.

  Rational Andi started to speak, but I silenced her with threats to not only read the Twilight Saga, but also to watch it. She went silent.

  “Um, no, sorry, but my friend, he lives in … ” I scooted back into my room and checked the card again, just to make sure I had the number right. “Apartment thirty-six.” I could practically hear Preston smiling through the phone.

  “Ah, that's E.'s apartment. I know him well.” I paused.

  “E.?”

  “Well, that's what all his friends call him over at the boxing gym.” Aha. Pieces started to come together. E. I wanted to ask what it stood for, but figured that would kind of blow my cover, so I just laughed and pretended like I'd known that all along.

  “Right,” I said. “Sorry, I just usually call him by his full name.”

  “Sure you do,” said Preston softly. “Meet you in the lobby in twenty?” I nodded, realized he couldn't hear me and started to speak. Too late I realized he'd already hung up.

  Preston was standing outside the glass front doors of the apartment building with a tight, white T-shirt on over some dark blue jeans. His dark hair was slicked back and his glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, resting there precariously as he flipped the page in his book and smiled.

  I swooned and practically crashed to the sidewalk in a cloud of lust. If Quinn had a porn star mouth, then Preston had a kissable one with soft, full lips that would probably feel good damn good down below as well as up above.

  When he looked up and saw me stumbling down the walkway like a drunken idiot, he closed his book and moved forward to greet me, chest muscles bulging gently beneath his shirt. It was just enough of a peek at his body that I not only craved more but absolutely, one hundred percent felt like I had to have it.

  “You look really pretty today,” he said softly as he hugged his book to his massive chest and smiled gently at me. That whole ear fucking thing seemed a long ways off from the soft spoken man before me, and I couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. It's always the quiet ones, my brain thought as I tried to not to mentally measure the width of Preston's biceps.

  “Thank you,” I told him as we stood several feet apart in awkward silence. “Um, so, apartment thirty-six?” Preston flushed a pink color like he was embarrassed and nodded, turning without a word and leading me to the elevator. The atmosphere was tense and uncomfortable, nothing at all like it had been the moment he kissed me. I wanted to ask about that, but had no clue how to go about broaching the subject, especially when Preston was squished into the corner of the elevator hugging of all things, a copy of Gone with the Wind. Definitely a What the fuck? moment. Ear fuckers do not read period romance novels. I declined to mention it.

  “How long have you known E.?” Preston asked me as the elevator dinged and we stepped into a beige hallway with a horrible burgundy runner and framed oil paintings of fluffy dogs. I shrugged noncommittally.

  “Oh, you know,” I said vaguely as I waved my hand and tried to pretend like I knew where I was going. Preston paused and pushed his glasses up his nose with two fingers, his middle and his index. Very sexy. Very provocative. I had to swallow my lust down, and it hit me in the gut heavy and hard.

  “Apartment thirty-six is the other way,” he said, and I blushed.

  “Oh, yeah, that's right.” I smiled tightly and spun on my heel. The silence and the anticipation were freaking killing me. I'm about to meet Mr. Seven Inch. What will I say? What will I do? “So, how long have you known E.?” I asked back and Preston shrugged.

  “Oh, you know,” he said and we both chuckled at that. God, I like this man, I thought as we paused at a white door and my heart skipped a beat, making my whole chest hurt. I was about to meet my Mystery Man, but right now, all I wanted to do was get to know Preston. Just meet the guy and get it over with. That way, you can get him off your mind and make some decisions. I sighed and raised my hand to knock.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  I gave Preston a tight-lipped smile and bounced up and down on my heels. Seconds ticked past, long as hours, and nothing happened. I rang the doorbell. Nothing.

  “He was expecting you?” Preston asked, and I shrugged, again very vague and nonchalant. “Maybe he's running late?” he added as I continued to stare at the gold numbers on the door with a sinking feeling in my gut. Was Preston scaring him away? Maybe he really was a rapist or a murderer or something? But then, Preston seemed to know him pretty well … “Want to come over to my place and have a cup of tea or something?” Aw, tea. Cute. What a nice boy.

  “Sure,” I said as I tried to push back my feelings of disappointment. E. would show. He had to. Had to. For my sake and his. I mean, why play this game with me and then just disappear? Anyhow, I knew where he lived now and could do some stalking of my own, maybe tape a pic of my swollen clit to his door and see how he liked that.

  Preston turned away, stepped about ten feet and unlocked the very next door. Apartment thirty-seven. Huh.

  “Oh, so you're like next door-next door neighbors?” Preston nodded and stepped back, holding out an arm for me to enter. I moved over to his door and stepped inside to the sweet scent of dragon's blood incense and freshly mopped floors that gleamed. Damn. Neat and tidy and sexy and toned and wow … Preston was a one of a kind guy for sure.

  “Welcome to my life,” he said which I thought was kind of strange until I entered the living room, turned and saw a … a thing hanging from the doorway to his bedroom. “Darjeeling?” he asked me as I tilted my head to the side and tried to figure out what the black straps attached to the door frame were. “Green? Black? Chai?”

  “What is that?” I asked as I pointed at the thing with my finger. Preston stepped up next to me and adjusted his glasses.

  “That,” he began softly as he set his novel down on the glass coffee table to my right, the one without visible streaks of any kind. “Is a sex swing.” And then his voice was all sex again, ear fucking the shit out of me.

  I spun quickly and took a step back, certain that Preston was about to go psycho on me. He just stood there and watched me move back.

  “I'm in the mood for some green tea if that's okay with you?”

  “I think I should leave,” I said and then tripped on the edge of his couch, went sprawling back and landed in artfully arranged decorative pillows. Preston moved towards me and put his knee between my legs, leaning in close enough that we could kiss, but somehow maintaining this perfect distance that made my breath catch in my throat and my pulse thunder.

  “Why would you want to do that?” he asked me as he lifted his hand and ran his nail down the side of my face. “Then I wouldn't be able to fuck you.”

  “Um,” I said and then all words were knocked right out of my brain by this horribly delicious kiss that Preston gave me, tangling his tongue with mine and drawing me forward without using a single, other part of his body.

  I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his midsection, completely and utterly forgetting about Quinn and even – get this – Mystery Man. Two years of watching Preston prance his tight ass around campus had gotten to me, and I was not in the mood to hold it back. Fuck Valentine's Day, I thought as I once again pushed my lack of self-control onto the holiday's shoulders.

  “I … ” I tried to speak, but Preston was having none of it, kissing my mouth, my forehead, nibbling my ears and throat, caressing my breasts through my sweater. “We, um … ”

  “Shut up, Andi,” he said as he sat back, grabbed my hips and flipped me over, taking my ass in his hands and positioning me for … well, for easier access you might say. “The safety word is kitten, but I don't think you'll need it. We'll start slow.”<
br />
  “Kitten?” I asked. “Safety word?”

  “Well, it's not likely something you'll say by accident during sex,” Preston said as he did something behind me which was, presumably, to free his cock from his pants. “I tend to get rough, so I like to have a safety word, just in case.”

  “I can't do this,” I said suddenly. “I'm a virgin.” I tried to stand up, but Preston pushed me down so that my face was buried in fluffy pillows with tassels galore.

  “And that means what?” he asked as my skirt came up and my panties came down. “Are you not ready?”

  Horny Andi: Jesus Christ, girl, get it on already. I'm not saying you should give it up to the first prick that comes along, but seriously, it's just your virginity, it's not like you're selling your soul to the devil. Loosen up. You've been stalking Preston for years, remember?

  Rational Andi: Didn't you write 'Mrs. Fisher-Ellis' on the back of your binder like some grade school twit?

  Regular Andi: Fuck you both.

  “I'm going to take your silence as an invitation. If you change your mind, you know what to say.”

  “Kitten?” I asked as my lady bits pulsed and throbbed with need. The sudden exposure to air and Preston's warm bulge pressing against them didn't help me think any clearer. It wasn't until he let go of me and stepped back that I could finally breathe and remember the alphabet.

  “I'm sorry,” Preston said, and although it was undeniably weird to know he was staring at and talking to my vaginal opening, I didn't stand up. God help me, but I wanted him to plow me hard and fast. There was just one thing that I would not compromise on.

  “Condom?” I said, and I swear, I could hear a dirty, sexy grin spread across his handsome face.

  “Of course.”

  As Preston fished out a condom from somewhere on his person and opened the package, I put my hands on the back of the couch and held on for dear life.