My Dirty Little Valentine: An Erotic Anthology

by Pure Textuality Public Relations

  She laughed and buried her face in my neck. I felt her tears on my skin as more slipped from my eyes.

  "You and me, makes three," she said in between sobbing hiccups.

  "Um, Kara?" I said lightly, not wanting to hurt her feelings too much.

  "What?" She sniffed and pulled her head from my neck to look into my face.

  "I think it's, you and me plus baby makes three. Or some shit like that."

  "What did I say?" She cocked her head and looked confused.

  God, I wanted to kiss her. My wife. The mother of my unborn child.

  How fucking cool was that?

  "You and me, makes three," I repeated her earlier statement with a smile.

  "Well, whatever," she said in a low giggle.

  My hand went between us to rest on her belly. I kissed her forehead and stared into her eyes.

  "This is us. Forever. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift a woman could give a man."

  "You're welcome," she whispered. Then she gave me a devious smile. "You know... When a man is a sexual dynamo, his woman craves his sperm on an unconscious but very powerful level."

  I laughed at her quoting of the line from Meet the Fockers and her attempt to sound like Barbra Streisand. Last time we caught that movie on television, I teased her that that was us. Apparently, I was foretelling the future. Go figure.

  "I am that. And I love you, so damn much. And because you were nice enough to get pregnant with my child, I'm going to grant you a wish. You can have anything you want today, even if it's outside this room." Which I hope it isn't, I silently amended my statement.

  "Anything, hmmm." She tapped her finger on her chin while she pretended to think really hard. "How about you, me and a sudsy bath in the Jacuzzi tub?"

  "I'm on it." I kissed her until she was clinging to me again and I was semi-hard, before I disengaged from her body and set about making my wife a bubble bath.

  The next two weeks passed in a haze as I rode on cloud nine and made love to Kara as many times as was physically possible. I even let her leave the room a few times. And when we were leaving paradise, I decided I couldn't possibly ever be happier than I was right at that moment.

  And as life often happens, I realized months later that I was wrong. When I sat in a hospital bed with one arm around my amazing wife and my other arm around my beautiful, redheaded daughter Maggie, I learned I could, in fact, be happier.

  Sophy's Valentine Tryst

  Bianca James

  Sophy recognized him immediately. Despite being incongruously seated on the front door step with a small envelope resting across his knees, he was quite unmistakable. She would have recognized him even without the distinctive 'Button in Ear' tag. He exuded quality and his fleecy Alpaca fur looked as soft as she knew it would feel.

  Desmond! My favorite Steiff bear. What are you doing here?

  The only person who knew how much she had always admired Steiff bears in general and this limited edition, in particular, was her Mom. She reached down to pick it up, being careful not to dislodge the carefully placed envelope as she did so.

  There's no way Mom could afford this. Even if she could, there's no way she'd leave it abandoned on the front door step. Not something this rare and expensive.

  The bear felt every bit as luxurious and exquisite as she expected.

  Wow, this is the real deal. Not a cheap eBay knock off, that's for sure.

  Keen to peek inside the envelope and unravel the mystery of the gorgeous bear, Sophy fumbled for her keys in her handbag and hastily unlocked the front door. No sooner had she closed it behind her and she was offloading her bag and keys onto the hallstand with one hand while holding the cuddly, two foot tall bear with the other. Carrying Desmond into the kitchen, she pulled out a stool beside the island bench and placed the bear on the counter top before removing the envelope that rested on his cute little legs. Nervously, she opened the envelope and withdrew a crisp white card, upon which someone had meticulously written with the most precise calligraphy she had ever seen.

  Dearest Sophy,

  I'm Desmond, as you probably already know.

  I need to be at the Wall Street Heliport (Pier 6 & FDR Drive)

  on Friday February 14 at 7:00pm. Please bring me and your

  overnight bag, packed for an evening you will never forget.

  Yours,

  Desmond

  Peering inside the envelope once more to ensure that she hadn't missed anything, Sophy gazed once again at the enigmatic card, lost for words and more importantly, at a loss for any idea as to who might have left a $600 collectible bear on her door step.

  And how did they even know about the bear?

  * * *

  It took a while for it to start to make sense, but slowly, a few pieces started to come together. Having never been into the whole Valentine's Day thing, the date on the card meant absolutely nothing to Sophy when she first read it. Once she realized the significance of the date, she began to work the problem with a fresh perspective.

  I doubt it was Mom. Oh wait, that's got to be the biggest understatement since Noah said "looks like rain." She smiled at the thought of her Mom sending her a Valentine's Day invitation, an expensive bear and instructions to take him to a Manhattan heliport.

  Maddie? She doubted her new bestie would do something like this. Yeah, this is just a little too subtle and sophisticated for her.

  It was time to consider some of the men who had recently come into her life, taking her from her cloistered, lonely lifestyle and exposing a highly erotic and near insatiable part of her that had previously remained suppressed. Not that there were that many men, but thinking of them and the erotic adventures she had shared with them caused her to reflect on how far she had come since that groundbreaking night when she let an unknown stranger enter her home. And her.

  There's no way it could possibly be The Stranger. Unless he really is who I initially thought he was. I don't see how that's possible, though, she thought before dismissing the idea as being far too unlikely.

  Turning her thoughts to Rick, the commanding, charismatic and hard bodied VP at a leading bank, she recalled the passion filled night they shared and the fantasy he helped her experience. It had been a while since she thought about him and their brief but fervent session on the balcony. Even though so much had happened since then, she thought it curious that she hadn't given him a thought. Nor had she heard from him, so she assumed he felt likewise about her.

  One thing she was absolutely sure of, though, was that the bear didn't come from the body builder and inked parolee, Luke. Just the thought of him driving around town in his big American Muscle Car looking for a collectible, Alpaca fur bear made her smile. Sophy had quite a soft spot for Luke, but she knew there was never going to be anything more than some occasional fun with him, even if he was the highly unlikely bear sender.

  The list was dwindling. There remained only two possible candidates and she was quite sure neither of them knew about her Steiff bear penchant, adding to the growing mystery. Her number one suspect was Parker, the Wall Street Warrior who had the financial resources and style to put together such an insightful and generous gift. But the question still remained. How did he know?

  Finally, one name remained. Try as she might, she couldn't see how it could be him as she dismissed her efforts to make the pieces of the puzzle fit as nothing more than wishful thinking. Craig. Her long time neighbor and friend. Fit, trim and very easy on the eye. Well dressed and groomed. A real gentleman, too, despite his friendship with bad boy Luke. As she processed her mental checklist of his attributes, she felt compelled to acknowledge, at last, that she did have something of a crush on him. Despite her best efforts to force herself to believe otherwise, as a way of avoiding the possibility of getting hurt or being disappointed, the notion lingered and the longer it did, the more comfortable it felt.

  * * *

  As she opened the overnight bag on her bed, Sophy was almost sorry she didn't splurge a lot
more when she fulfilled one of her long time desires and bought her Prada handbag. It seemed such a waste to not have matching carry-on luggage on her mystery flight.

  Well, I'm assuming it's a flight. Why else would I be going to a heliport? A flight to where? She wondered, not for the first time. For fuck's sake, this is ridiculous. Why am I even doing this? Going God knows where with who the fuck knows. Am I serious?

  Yet, she knew she was. Very serious, indeed. Having recently awakened her own sexuality and a previously repressed desire for adventure and fun, having lived a protective and demure lifestyle for most of her adult life, Sophy knew she was never going to turn down an opportunity like this. No matter how mysterious or daunting.

  With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the piles of clothes, jewelry and underwear on the bed, trying to work out what to pack. Having no clue as to where she was going or what she might need, she considered her options very carefully, selecting a couple of dresses that might suit a formal occasion without looking stupid should she end up somewhere not so grand. A nice pair of pumps for each dress, a few sexy lingerie ensembles and she was about done.

  Carefully folding the dresses to avoid crushing them, Sophy placed them on top of the shoes, underwear and toiletry bags she had evenly spread across the small carry-on bag that had been her constant companion on many a business trip over the years. This was the first time, though, it had been packed with anything so glamorous. Usually, it held her business clothes, minimal makeup and not much else. Packing everything so that it arrived looking fresh and unruffled proved challenging, but finally, the zips were closed and the case stood to attention alongside her, handle extended, ready for whatever adventure was about to unfold.

  With a final check in the mirror, she nodded in approval at her chosen outfit for the evening. Her favorite little black dress and the complementary Prada handbag looked perfect together and they were finished off by the sensible, yet flattering, heels she chose.

  Perfect. OK, this is it. Let's get on with it, she thought as she made her way downstairs to the waiting cab.

  * * *

  A cold breeze blew across the pier as she alighted from the cab, tipping the driver an extra twenty dollars to standby for a few minutes, in case she needed an exit strategy. The driver handed her the case from the boot as she nervously slung her distinctive Prada handbag over her shoulder and looked for some clue as to what was expected of her next. Within moments, a middle aged pilot wearing a crisp uniform approached her and removed his cap as he introduced himself.

  "Good evening, Miss. You must be Sophy?" he asked as he held out his hand. "I'm Captain Bennett. I'll be taking care of you this evening."

  "Thank you. Yes, I'm Sophy. Where are we going?" she asked, not really expecting much of an explanation.

  "That would spoil the surprise, now, wouldn't it, Miss?"

  "Please, call me Sophy. Miss sounds so, well, formal." She corrected him.

  "Alright, Sophy, as you wish. Anyway, you're in safe hands and there's no need for you to worry. You're in for a real treat tonight. I see you brought the bear," he nodded toward Desmond, who was seated on the top of the small suitcase, resting casually against the extended handle.

  "Yes. I hope he doesn't have a fear of flying," Sophy joked, trying to relieve some of the tension she felt.

  "I'm sure he'll be fine. Do you want to let the cab go, now that you know you're safe?" he asked with a knowing smile, gesturing toward the cab driver, who was making something of a scene as he checked his watch impatiently.

  "Ah, was it that obvious? Yes, I guess so."

  With that, the Captain strode confidently toward the cab, said something to the driver as he leaned on the door, then made his way back toward Sophy. The way he carried himself, so self-assured and precise, gave Sophy confidence in him and she began to relax enough to give him a genuine smile as he approached her.

  "Thank you. I was so nervous, I'd actually forgotten all about him."

  "My pleasure. If you'd like to come this way, I can take care of some paperwork, then we can be on our way." As he spoke, he placed his arm gently on Sophy's elbow and guided her to a nearby office.

  Once the passenger manifest was almost complete, the Captain looked anxiously at Sophy as he absently rubbed his earlobe.

  "I'm sorry, I hate doing this, but I need to know your weight for the documentation," he said, hesitatingly.

  "No need to apologize. Unless you think I look so heavy that I'd be embarrassed to tell you."

  "No! No, really," he faltered, taking in her athletic physique, narrow waist and toned legs. "I just know that most women don't like to share that information with someone they don't know, regardless of how much they weigh."

  "That's OK," Sophy tried to reassure him. "I was only fooling around. I do that when I'm nervous."

  * * *

  As they approached the sleek, black Bell 206 JetRanger, Sophy felt a wave of anxiety surge through her. She'd never flown in a helicopter before. The thought of doing so, at night, over the New York skyline, was not a prospect she had given much thought to before she arrived.

  Too late to back out now, that's for sure. Time to harden up and make the most of whatever comes next.

  "Are you OK?" enquired Bennett as they approached the helicopter.

  "Sure. I've just never flown in one of these before. I work in IT and look at a lot of things from an IT perspective. When I look at that rotor all I see is a very unforgiving, single point of failure and not much else."

  "I can see where you're coming from," Bennett laughed. "But I can assure you, I wouldn't be flying this aircraft if it wasn't absolutely safe. This beauty has the lowest overall accident rate of any single engine helicopter. I wouldn't fly anything else," he added.

  "I'll be alright. Let's just enjoy the view and get going to the mystery destination." Wherever the fuck that might be.

  After she fastened her shoulder harness, Captain Bennett helped her adjust her headset and microphone, before buckling himself in and ensuring Sophy could hear him through the comms system.

  "OK, here we go," he said as he received his final clearance to take off.

  With a slight sideways lurch from a gust of wind, the helicopter left the helipad and began to race across the water, increasing altitude faster than Sophy had anticipated. Feeling as if her stomach was being left behind, her anxiety level rose with every foot in altitude the helicopter climbed. Very soon though, Sophy was enjoying the view of the city lights from a new perspective and her trepidation subsided as she sought out her favorite buildings in the New York skyline.

  Less than 20 minutes later, after a brief descent, the JetRanger settled smoothly and gently on another helipad. According to the signage visible from the cabin, Sophy could see they were at LaGuardia. It took nearly as long as the flight time for Bennett to complete his checklist and power down the aircraft ready to exit the helicopter. Finally he finished and packed his documentation into a small briefcase before removing his headset and turning to Sophy.

  "We're not done yet. This was only the first leg of the adventure. Next comes the really cool part," he smiled enthusiastically as he teased her, knowing she was dying to know where they were headed.

  "OK, so we're not there yet, but can't you even give me a clue? A tiny hint?"

  "Sorry," he said, shaking his head solemnly, "I really can't."

  After helping her exit the aircraft, Bennett proceeded to retrieve Sophy's bag from the luggage compartment and without bothering to extend the handle, he carried it effortlessly as he walked across the tarmac toward a gleaming, new private jet. He looked over his shoulder at Sophy and saw that she was in awe of the magnificent aircraft.

  "This is my pride and joy. The Gulfstream G650. She's brand new and the most sophisticated private jet money can buy. Isn't she stunning?" he beamed with pride as he turned to admire the aircraft once more.

  "I've never seen anything like this up close. It's gorgeous. If it's not a rude question, how much
does something like this cost?"

  "Depending on the configuration and options, they start at around $65 million."

  "Get the fuck outa here!"

  Oops.

  "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

  Laughing, Bennett stopped and turned to face Sophy.

  "Yes, you did and you hit the nail right on the head. It is an expensive aircraft, but she has a top speed of Mach .925. That's just shy of the speed of sound. Now, come on, tell me that's not cool?"

  * * *

  Having climbed the stairs, Sophy was the first to enter the cabin and was immediately taken aback. She expected to see an interior that was somewhat more upmarket than that of a commercial jet, but what she saw took her completely by surprise. The entire cabin exuded tasteful opulence in the extreme, with large, sumptuous cream leather seats complemented by tasteful wood veneer cabinetry and she imagined the breathtaking inflight views, courtesy of the enormous oval shaped windows that ran the entire length of the generously proportioned fuselage.

  "Wow," was all she could say as she suddenly halted in the cabin doorway.

  "Yeah, we get that a lot," commented Bennett as he guided Sophy into the cabin.

  "Let me get you settled, then we can run through the safety briefing so that you can start relaxing and enjoy your special Valentine's Day mystery flight."

  "If you want to freshen up or get changed, the bathroom is right there," he said, indicating a door at the rear of the aircraft. "And there's a small crew compartment on the left that you can use to get changed if you wish. We will be taking off in about 30 minutes, so you have plenty of time," he continued.

  Entering the ample and well-designed bathroom, Sophy was again suitably impressed. The classy wood veneer theme continued through to the bathroom cabinets which were upstaged only by the stunning marble countertops and flooring.

  Now, this is what an aircraft bathroom ought to look like, Sophy thought as she recalled a few less than pleasant bathroom experiences on some of the long haul flights she had endured for the IT security company she was contracted to.