The Valentine
Story Codes:  M/F, Consensual, Exhibitionism

The Valentine Package
By Gary Strong

Sara opened the door with a hesitant hand. Her fingers curved around the edge of the wood before
opening it. Dark brown eyes were wide as they peered into the room. The cautious movements made
her feel like a beginning burglar, and she could not help but chuckle at herself.

Her stomach became a torrent of nervous bundles, butterflies fluttering with their soft wings. One hand
ran down the oversized trench coat hoping it would ease the tension. It didn't. If anything it only made
her realize she was standing in a strange apartment wearing little more than an overcoat.

Sara could not help but snoop. The apartment felt more like a loft with a vast amount of open space
both above and around her. There were no walls, but the furniture all lay out in some random order
that suggested different rooms. Art supplies were everywhere. Canvas draped over everything.
Drawings and sketching and paintings and etchings all combined somewhere in the living room.

One painting on top of a love seat revealed a woman lying back with her eyes half closed. Her hand
draped elegantly over her stomach. The other hand dipped between pink silken panties. The young
woman in the painting wore only a trace of clothing. It accented her body rather than covering it. Sara
took a step closer.

Something warm touched against Sara’s sex as she studied the painting. The woman looked in the
middle of a scream or a moan. She seemed so free, as if daring people to look at her. She did not
care. She only craved her own orgasm. The painting revealed a woman at the final instant before her
body took over and waves of liquid hot pleasure rolled over her like the coming tide.

Sara felt a throbbing in her legs now. She could not stop herself as she squeezed her thighs together.
A jolt of pleasure skipped up her spine and made her toes tingle. She had to bite her lower lip to keep
from moaning.

"Do you like her?"

Sara whipped around at the voice. Her cheeks were a red flush of embarrassment and desire. Even
with the trench coat covering her entire body she still placed a hand over her breasts. The nipples she
felt through the coat were hard and tingling when pressed against her arm. Once more she felt that tiny
jolt against her sex.

"I'm sorry," She was breathless, barely able to speak. The butterflies had gone crazy inside of her
stomach now.

A young man emerged from behind a curtain. He had a tall build with sandy brown hair and dark eyes
that drank her in. His voice had been loud and low, but at the same time soothing.

Her sex now ached terribly.  When she moved she could not help but feel her cotton panties damp and
pressing against her warm skin.

"No need to be sorry. I put her out so you could see some of my work. I thought you might like it. Do

"I do!" The words ran off her lips before she even knew what she was saying. She stopped before more
would just flow through her. Somehow a flood of words had opened in her head. She wanted to say
anything. Why did she want to do that?

"I mean... yes. I like it. It is beautiful. She is."

"You are here for the Valentine package?"

Sara nodded. She fumbled around in the pockets of her coat before taking out a coupon. It had faded
pink letters that told of the Valentine Package. For a reasonable price she would have a private studio
for an hour. Sara handed it to him. He took it, but his eyes were on her and not the piece of paper.

Her eyes wandered. She never imagined him to be so handsome.

"Come in."

He pulled back the curtain for her. Inside the room the soft light covered everything with a fake curved
glow. It made Sara think of those soap operas than ran during the day. The light caressed with an
intimate touch. Faint music played in the background.

The bed in the center of the room had been covered in pink sheets, pillows, and hearts of various
sizes. The sheets had also been pinned up around the room.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh yes," Sara spoke, once more without thinking, "It is lovely, thank you."

Sara walked into the room. She was made aware of her high heels now. She only wore them for special
occasions. They looked good on her. She enjoyed how they made her walk. Sara swayed her hips
deliberately as she made her way inside.

She could feel his eyes on her. They seemed to caress her, like a warm wind intimate against her skin.
It made her aware of every move of her body.

And then Sara froze.

She did not know what to do. Once more her cheeks went bright red. She had never been to a photo
shoot before; never had her body looked at so objectively. And he had to be such a handsome
stranger too. Why did he have to be so handsome?

When she turned around, confusion set in her eyes.

"You should take off the coat."

She had it wrapped around her so tight now. It only revealed her face and elegant ankles in the high
heels. For a moment she thought of asking him to only shoot her feet. She didn't think she could go
through with anything else.

And then his hands were on her.

Sara made a small gasp as she felt his touch. She had not expected it or his breath against her neck
when he spoke.

"I'll get it for you."

Her knees threatened to buckle and send her hurling onto the pink Valentine bed. Sara tried to hide
this whimper as she let him undress her. Her arms fell to her side, limp, as the coat slipped from her. It
had been a barrier protecting her from this place and his leering eyes. Now with it gone she felt so

Underneath she had on her black nightie with lace underwear. It looked dull and flat on her body. It
covered up more than anything else. She looked down, realizing she should not have worn this at all.
What sort of fantasy involved old lumpy underwear?

"I don't have many outfits," she spoke softly, unable to meet his eyes. Her life had been a picture of
boring normalcy before tonight. She had been a good girl. She had never really explored the feelings
that made her panties dampen. The Valentine package had seemed almost innocent fun. Almost. But
even Sara could admit a darker pool of intimate fantasy when she thought about it.

"It's ok. I have something you can wear."

He took out a small rack with half a dozen different outfits. These small pieces of cloth with string
attached could not actually be considered clothing. She recognized some from magazines.  Certainly
not something a middle aged housewife should wear.

He picked out something sheer and black. Sara shook her head. She couldn't. It would reveal too much.

"I'm not... this is my first time."

"This," He said, taking her hand and guiding it to the nightgown, "Is fantasy."

Why did her skin tremble when he touched it? Why did he feel so warm? She found herself wanting to
wear it for him. She wanted to look good for him. Enticing.

"You are just dressing up to take some pictures. That is all. When I'm done with you, you can put the
old underwear on, bundle up in your coat and wear what you want. But until that time, you're mine. Go
put it on."

"Yes," Once more it rolled off of her lips. His. The thought nearly made her shiver with excitement. She
did not think she could ever be someone else's fantasy, but he was right. Valentine's Day was the time
to transpire, to explore the dull seated sexuality she had long since wanted.

By the time Sara's mind could gather any speed she was already walking towards the other end of the
room with the see thru nightgown in hand.

It wasn't until she closed the door behind her that Sara had a chance to breathe. Things had rushed
through her so fast, emotion and feelings that had been more than intense.

Inside the bathroom held a mirror. Sara could see the outfit she wore now. She understood why he had
sent her in here with something else. It looked tacky. The gown lumped against her skin, and swelled
out from her like a balloon. It looked like she had patches of cotton stuck under her clothing. She had
never wore such things to entice before, never even considered trying to buy lingerie.

She had never considered herself sexy.

Why was that?

Sara looked down at her body in the mirror. She certainly did have a feminine look, curved in all the
right places. Her breasts still hung high against her chest with little sag or wear. Her skin healthy, her
waist slim, even her eyes sparkled with the excitement of a first date.

Sara blushed at that thought.

She wanted to please him. Sara bit her bottom lip, once more glancing down at such a flimsy outfit.

"It's all pretend, right," she said, trying to convince herself, "Just a fantasy."

The stuffy old nightgown came off. She pried and tugged it away from her body until it lay a useless
heap on the floor. The new nightgown felt like a soft silk as it caressed her skin. She slipped it on,
checking herself in the mirror. Her hand ran down the fabric as they smoothed out all the wrinkles.

It fit her like a dream.

"Oh my God," She gasped when she turned to look in the mirror. It tugged against her just enough to
show off her curved hips. She could see through it depending on whether she moved left or right
against the light. Her nipples were hardening as the material grazed across them. A deep and selfish
moan escaped her. This dress would be deadly to wear.

Sara tried not to think about how she was profusely blushing, or how she would look so lewd coming
out of the bathroom, or how she was practically naked in this stranger's apartment. Part of that only
turned her on more. She stepped out from the bathroom before she could stop herself. She couldn't
stop now, because if she did she wouldn't have the nerve to keep going. This entire fantasy would be

"You look good," He said, and Sara could barely force her head up to acknowledge him. Instead, she
walked up to the bed.

"Yes?" she wanted and needed his assurance. She even glanced up at him, a soft and unexpected
flicker running through her. Why did she care so much for his approval, to look good for him? She
didn't know, but at this moment she absolutely needed it.

"Just beautiful," He nearly whispered the words as his eyes ran over her body. Any other day she would
think of him as some lewd stranger, but today she thanked him for his compliments. The one he spoke
aloud and the one he made when his eyes could not help but drink her in.

"Get on the bed."

Her heart beat a wild pattern of excitement and dread. She turned and kneeled down upon the bed.
This is the part she did not understand. She never knew the world of posing and photography. She felt
lost as she climbed on top of the pink hearted sheets.

She was about to turn and lay upon the bed when she heard him, "Stop."

Her body froze, trembling. She turned back at him with wild blue eyes that betrayed her innocence.

"Don't move," He came up next to her and ran his hand up the back of her thigh. Sara felt its warm
touch, unable to stop the small groan leaving her body. She felt this rush of heat against her sex. Some
core deep within her body heated her skin and made her face flush.

He reached up to the curve of her ass, slowly moving across her body. Sara did not want to push back
into him, didn't want to invite such a touch to continue, did she? She felt so torn, what was happening
to her. A darkened hunger awoke within in.

He grabbed the bottom of the nightie and pulled it down far enough so it would cover her ass.

"Now look back at me, like you want to fuck me."

Why did Sara think that look would not be hard to make?

She turned once more. Her hair hid part of her face. Lips were parted, taking in sharp breaths that her
body could not quite control. Her face reddened with the thought of what it would be like to fuck him.

Her eyes half closed in pure lust and she heard a loud click from the camera. A light flashed.


She was so eager to look at that picture. She must look unable to control such urges that her body
gave off. It reminded her of the painting earlier, the woman who had been lost in her own pleasure.

Is that what Sara was doing? Losing herself for everyone to see? Not everyone. Just him. Sara wanted
him to see.

Sara did as she was told. He began to pose her. He would take pictures of her at different angles. He
asked her to want to fuck him or be angry with him. He made her giggle when he told her how perfect
her ass was.

And Sara began to get comfortable.  She forgot her near naked state. She began to move on her own
now, a fluid motion against the camera. She would openly flirt with him.  Her tongue would race over her
lips. She ran her hand down her inner thigh.

She lay on her back, her eyes wide and filled with ideas.

"Touch yourself," He said, his low voice running down into her fingernails.  A naughty smile appeared
on her crimson lips.

"Like this?" She offered, running her hands down to her breasts. She squeezed them together. The
silken material once more stretched and grazed her soft skin. Sara tried to bite back a moan. She
closed her eyes now, oblivious to the furious sound of the camera capturing her body.

Fingers found her hard nipples, and began to pinch them. She loved having her nipples pinched. The
thumb rolled across her. She loved the feeling. She had never been unashamed, never wanted the
lights to be on when she touched herself, and never enjoyed such a lewd and candid eye upon her

She moved further down. Excited fingers raised the nightie from her body until she could slip under her
own panties and touch her heated sex. She cried aloud. Her body bucked hard against such a touch.

"Oh God," she was breathless now. Her aching sex ground happily against just one finger pressing into
her slit. She got lost in the rhythm.

And then she felt his hand on her thigh.

"Please," She watched as he kneeled down against her. His strong hand ran down her inner thigh.
Curious warm fingers replaced her own. She whimpered when she saw him take over. One finger slid

"Oh god," She bucked against it, pushing in deeper. She could feel the slick wet walls of her pussy grip
him.  She looked up at him.

His mouth descended upon her. She could hardly stand the sensations flooding through her body. A
deep set pulse ran through her that craved more. More. More and more. She wanted it. She needed it.
Quaking and reeling with desire she could only purr deep in her throat and beg for it.

His tongue worked found her clit and pressed into it. When she bucked into him her clit was trapped.
Lightening flashes of hot need raced across her flesh. Her body could not respond to it all.

Sara came just as he slipped a second finger inside. She cried out, throwing her head back and trying
to form words, but none came.  She erupted in sounds of pleasure. They were  a high enough in pitch
for even the neighbors to hear. Her body slammed into him, bucking and grinding. Her sex clamped
down on his fingers.

Sara tried to breathe, but could not. She lay on the bed panting out the last of her strength. She felt
him still inside of her.  Her body twitched and jumped every time he moved.

She felt him climb on top of her.

"I'm not done with you yet," Sara whimpered as she heard his heated words. His cock fat rested
between her spread thighs. The size of it frightened  and excited her. She had never taken one so big.

"Please," She threw her arms around him, "Be gentle."

She felt him line up against her. The head of his cock found her entrance. She spread her legs wide,
feeling the hot desire with just the tip. He pushed in slowly. Her lips pulled apart to invite him deeper.  
Waves of sensation thrummed through her. She couldn't take it.

"Oh god," The head slipped inside. She could feel his heartbeat running through his cock. She had
never been filled out like this before. The initial ache took a moment before dulling away. She could
feel a rising urge erupt somewhere deep inside of her.  She curled a leg around him, her heel digging
into his ass.

She didn't understand even as she tried to pull him further into her.

"Fuck me," She growled into his ear, her teeth coming out to bite him, "Fuck me."

His cock slammed into her. She felt every inch force its way inside of her. She had to cry out, scream
against his body, clutch him tight as if he were the only thing in the world. Her body gripped him. Finally
his stomach met hers and a sharp sigh escaped her pursed mouth.

She needed more.

Sara did not understand it. This was all new to her. She had never wanted to be fucked before, never
grinded against someone and begged for more. Her idea of fun and exploring in the bedroom was to
leave the lights on. She had enjoyed her sex life.  She did not love it, but she did not hate it either. It
had become a dull roar that she had accepted. This photographer inside of her, taking what he wanted
from her body brought out some new undiscovered side that Sara simply could not ignore. She raked
her nails against his back, feeling them leave marks as he began to fuck her.

She wanted to be used. She wanted to be treated like a whore. She wanted him to find her desirable.
She loved the look of her legs wrapped around his tight ass. Her high heeled shoes went perfect
against his skin.

He fucked her hard enough so her entire body moved against him on the bed. She felt like a ragdoll
being torn in half, ravaged in every way possible.

She bit him, holding back her own scream as she came once more. Her pussy gripped his cock. She
could only hold on tight against him as his mad thrusting destroyed her senses.

As she came it was too much and it was not enough at the same time. She wanted him out of her.  She
wanted more. She kissed him fiercely, finding his lips.

He came inside of her. His cock pressed in deep and then erupted hot and fierce. She loved the feeling
as his cock twitched, filling her to the brim. He kept deep inside of her until he was finished. His cock
jerked out spasms which slowly turned to simple twitches. He held her down as she still quivered and
shook at the final waves of her own heated ecstasy.

She felt him withdrawing from her. She could do little to stop him, but her weak grip did not want him to
leave. She fell from his touch and lie spent across the Valentine sheets.

It took her time to remember who she was and what she had done. For the time being Sara could only
breathe. Her body tingled with the past sensations. Pins and needles of pleasure kept her pussy
enticed and twitching as he leaked out of her.

"I...," she said as soon as her voice caught, "I should be going."

He nodded. He was dressed once more in front of her. He held the camera up. She didn't move as he
took another picture. She wondered what it would look like to see her laying back and relaxed, still
twitching from what he had done to her.

Slowly she got up and retrieved her trench coat. It only made her feel like that much more of a whore
when she put it on, knowing she would have to walk back to her car with another man's cum leaking
down her thighs. That thought turned her on all the more.

"You will get the package in a week," He said, pulling away the blanket to reveal his apartment. It was
like pulling away the warm walls of sleep and ending the dream. She walked on unsteady legs towards
the door

"The package?" She turned.

"Valentine package," He said, glancing down at the camera. She had forgotten. Sara blushed. How silly
of her. She had come here for a sweet erotic Valentine's package.

"Come back in a week. They'll be ready."

Sara pulled away. It would be a chance to see him again. More importantly it would be a chance to see
his pictures. She would see her selfish acts of wanton display for him, and indulge in his every fantasy
once more.

She glanced down at the not quite closed trench coat, seeing the nightie underneath.

"I forgot to give you back the lingerie," She said.

He shook his head, grabbing hold of the door, "Keep it. Wear it for me when you get back."

Sara could only beam, buttoning up the coat. She smiled at him. Her eyes sparkling with an awakened

Copyright© 2009 Gary Strong

Gary has found a passion with writing. While his erotica is few and far between, ever so often an idea
or concept comes along that he feels me must explore. He lives a fairly mundane life in the Pacific
Northwest and dreams of one day paying the bills with his art. He can be reached at Strongcomic@msn.