(M/F, mast, rom)

VALENTINE WISH


  " I wish we could come together at least once," she had said.  "It's a
dream I have.  And you know what Walt always says: A dream is a wish your
heart makes."

He knew it wasn't a complaint.	Nor was it a slam against his virility.  It
was just a simple wish: a simultaneous orgasm.	And when she had told him
that, he laughed and said, "With the billions of the people in this world,
chances are pretty good someone is coming at the same time I am."  Then he
held her tight, knowing she wanted more than a silly remark.  In a more
serious tone, he truthfully told her he wished for it also, and that someday,
they'd get the timing right.  That was a year ago on Valentine's Day.

Today, a year later, he was determined to make her wish a reality.  What
better present to give a loved one than a dream come true.

He watched as she knelt before him, and started to rub her fingertips lightly
up and down the prominent bulge in his pants.  He listened to her giggle and
then say in a throaty voice, "Oh, I think you like this."  And he nodded.

He watched as her hands carefully unbuckled his belt, undid the hook, and
slowly lowered the zipper of his trousers.  He smiled when she yanked them
down, letting them puddle around his feet, and then laughed when she said
"Where's that bad boy," while she opened the slit in his boxer shorts and
peered inside.

"Oh," she said, "there he is, and he wants to come out and play."  And then
she reached in and took a hold of his hard shaft, stroking it up and down
while it stayed hidden from view.  With her other hand, she moved the slit to
the side, and brought his manhood out into the light of the kitchen, where
she had mounted her assault when he came home from work.

He concentrated on her face, watching it change from playful leer to
lascivious delight before she leaned forward and engulfed his length in the
warm, moist recess of her mouth.  He could hear her hum as she slowly drew
back, her lips pursed around his pulsating shaft, and he saw her cheeks
hollow as she applied glorious suction.  He almost jumped as he heard a loud
*pop* when his head left her mouth, only to be sucked in again.

Her head moved forward and back, enticing his protrusion to its fullest
extent.  She kept looking up at his face, her eyes humid with want and
longing.  She was also watching with the desire to know his every feeling --
to know what pleased him.  She was watching with love.	And as he gazed at
her face, he saw how much love and devotion there was for him and he started
to cry.

The tears clouded his vision, so he paused the tape.

********

She had surprised him that past Valentine's day by greeting him at the front
door wearing nothing but an apron.  It had been a particularly grueling week
in what had been a lousy six months for him on the work front, and the
pressures were affecting their life at home.  He had become sullen, and the
usual spark of playfulness in his nature had dwindled to nothing.  And
through it all, she never complained.  She did, however, long to have him do
the little things that she'd come to love: him jumping into the shower with
her when she least expected it and giving her a thorough washing, him pawing
playfully at her while they were out in public shopping, the passionate
kisses that would lead to sexual explosions when he would grab her
spontaneously as they passed in the living room.  So she had decided to take
matters into her own hands and add some spice into what had become a routine,
yet still satisfying love life.

Despite his fatigue, the site of her in the doorway wearing an apron
embroidered with the words "FUCK THE COOK" on the front stung him with a
desire for her that he'd not felt in some time.  Actually, the words appeared
more like "fUCk the cOOk" as the apron followed the voluptuous curves of her
breasts.  As he continued to be drawn to the words, he wanted to take her
right there on the threshold.  He took a step forward, and kissed her as if
it were for the very first time.

When their lips separated, it was obvious they were both reeling from the
kiss.  But she recovered quickly, saying, "I don't think it would be a good
idea if Mrs. Johnson from across the way looked outside her living room window
and saw us boinking in the doorway."  And with that, she pulled him into the
foyer and closed the door.

Taking her husband by the hand, she had led him into the kitchen, pushed him
back against the counter top by the sink and said, "It's time to put some
spice back into our sex life.  You want rosemary or thyme?"

And he laughed, saying, "How about some time with Rosemary?"

"Good answer."  And that's when she knelt before him.

*******************

After wiping his eyes with the some of the tissues he'd placed next to him to
help with the inevitable clean up, he looked at his hands.  One held the hard,
cold plastic of the remote control while the other had returned to his now
softening erection.  He debated whether to start the tape over, finally
deciding to let it continue from where he'd paused it.

Rosemary continued sucking him on screen while he slowly stroked his penis
from the comfort of his easy chair.  He could feel his tears drying on his
cheek, and his eyes stung, as he watched his wife lavishly coat his erection
from a year ago with her saliva.  Her hand held onto his turgid shaft while
she gave it a tongue bath, and her other hand had reached beneath her apron.

He could hear his moans of pleasure from her ministrations harmonize with her
own vocalizations of ecstacy.  And he was aware of his own breathing and the
sound of his hand meeting his pubic bone as he stroked in time to the action
on their tape providing a rhythmic underscore to the sexual symphony.

He watched and remembered the sensations he had felt when he reached down to
her, pulling her to her feet, and holding her close.  He could almost remember
the feel of her buttocks as he saw himself reach around her, squeezing the
exposed flesh not covered by the apron.

On the tape, he saw himself turn her around and move her toward the kitchen
table.	She bent forward, hands on the tabletop, while he moved the flaps of
the apron to each side, revealing her shapely rear.  Then, taking each cheek
in hand, he opened her.  The petals of her flower parted, revealing the
smooth, moist chamber into which he would insert his need.

As he stroked his throbbing shaft, he saw himself enter her in one swift
thrust, her head lifted back as she let out a long sigh of pleasure.  His hand
tightened its grip as he watched himself rock back and forth, trying to
remember the feeling of her muscles clutching at his driving piston.
Subconsciously, his hand sped up as he saw his thrusts grow deeper and faster.

He no longer had to watch.  He just had to listen to the sounds of her groans
and squeals coming over the speakers of his television.  Closing his eyes, he
imagined his tight fist was her succulent chamber once more; that she had
returned to him for this Valentine's Day and was ready to receive his gift.

***********

She had reached orgasm before he did, which was unusual.  Normally, he would
come before her, and would lose his stiffness.  But he always tended to her
need with loving manual dexterity, and eventually, they would collapse in
blissful satiation together.  That day, she wanted them to come together.

Besides adding some spice to their sex life, and having them reach new
heights of satisfaction, she had also wanted to give him something to
remember the occasion.	So, unnoticed by him, there was a camcorder on top of
the microwave, recording all of the action.

When they had recovered from their kitchen tryst, she told him about her
wish, and he held her after making a smart remark.  Then he told her that
they would come together someday, kissed her, and went upstairs to shower.
With him gone, she took the opportunity to place the tape in a heart-shaped
box along with a note that read...

"When things get you down, and you feel like you can't face another day, just
pop in this tape and remember that no matter how bad things get, I'll always
be here to "perk" you up.  Happy Valentine's Day!!!  Love, Rosemary."

She died 2 days later of a brain aneurysm.

***********

He could feel himself passing the point of no return.  The rubber band within
him was taut to the breaking point.  He would not let her down this time.  It
had always been her dream and he was damned if the woman he loved would have
her dream unfulfilled.	He listened to her sighs, her moans, her panting
breath and grunts from exertion.  He tuned into the tempo, remembering just
how she sounded before she would tip over the edge and fall into spasms of
orgasmic ecstacy.  He strained with his ears to hear her because the blood
rushing through him was pulsing loudly.  He had been holding himself at the
brink; waiting, holding back, restraining himself, ignoring the pleasurable
ache within his loins that was demanding release.

He heard her moans quicken, then turn into long wails, finally reaching a
crescendo peppered with cries to her god.  And that's when the rubber band
within him snapped, and he shuddered as his loins were wracked with
uncontrollable spasms.	The felt his juices course through him.  His hand
held a death grip on his penis and he could feel his shaft expand mightily as
the contractions ran through it.  Jets of hot white liquid vaulted from the
slit in the purple head in all directions.  What seemed like minutes were
only seconds as each spurt of human magma spewed forth with diminishing
intensity.

Opening his eyes, he looked at the mess in his lap.  He tried to make a move
toward cleaning up, but all energy had been sapped from him.  Without lifting
his head, he looked up to see his video image tensing as he unloaded deep
within her cavern one year ago.  A sadness washed over him, adding to his
fatigue, and he just stared as he and Rosemary lay sprawled on the kitchen
table.

Finally, he saw her move and stand in the kitchen, pulling him up and kissing
him deeply.  And that's when she said, "I wish we could come together at least
once.  It's a dream I have.  And you know what Walt always says: A dream is a
wish your heart makes."

His other hand still held the remote, and his finger hit the "pause" button.
He looked at her image, wanting it to burn into his brain so that he would
never forget it.  And as he felt the impending waves of loss and loneliness
wash over him, he looked to the ceiling and whispered,  "We did it, baby, we
finally did it.  Happy Valentine's Day."  Then he started to cry.