NOTE: If any of you 'grammar Nazis' or other careful readers would like to help me with my newfound interest in writing, part 1 of this story (below) is written in the third person, upcoming part 2 and my other two (see links in sig) in the first person. Based on this limited oeuvre, do you think I should stick to one or the other, or just go with what feels right at the time? PM or post comments. Thanks, Sahara. :rose:​

As with all fiction, the usual disclaimers apply: any resemblance to real persons or forum members, etc., etc.

HIS VALENTINE’S DAY SURPRISE​

bySahara907​

She had been flying for many hours and awake even longer. The overnight British Airways flight from Tampa to London Gatwick, then a commuter flight to his city. For a matter of four days she had conducted an intense, online relationship with a married British businessman. She was, in fact, his online mistress, arising each morning at 3 a.m. to cyber him (and herself) to orgasm. A mere nudge on her IM screen would bring her running to the computer at any time of day like one of Pavlov’s dogs—and she would always perform to his satisfaction (and hers). She loved her sexual role in his life; even thinking about being his mistress made her warm and wet. Apparently the businessman’s wife didn’t object to his online sex play, but laid down a firm rule against any face-to-face contact. The mistress occasionally kidded him that taking her from behind wasn’t really face-to-face. He’d just laugh and tell her to get back to sucking his cock like a good little slut. And when he talked to her like that, it greatly enhanced her performance—and the result.

The problem she faced the previous day was that Valentine’s Day loomed on the fifth day of their relationship, and she was mystified as to how to handle it. It was too early in the relationship to do—or expect—anything significant, yet no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn’t come up with the ‘perfect’ non-gift. The idea finally hit her on Feb. 13 and she rushed to arrange and catch her flight to England. Once she was on the plane, though she might fleetingly second-guess her decision, she was determined to go through with it. ‘In for a Euro, in for a Pound,’ was her feeling.

She knew what she was doing was pretty crazy, but she’d had more than her share of crazy sexual adventures and wasn’t too worried about that aspect. But, it had been over a year since she had been with a man, since before she escaped an abusive marriage. There had been a few very enjoyable flings with women, but she knew she craved the taste, the feel, the touch of a hard cock. If things worked out, she was about to break a long dry spell. And try as she might to dismiss it as impossible, she knew, too, that her bold move might either end her brief but very satisfying role as an online mistress—or it might elevate it to a new level. That brought a smile to her face, and she blushed a bright red when a flight attendant passing by stopped to comment: “Looks like you’re having a happy thought.” Oh yes, a very happy thought.

A taxicab took her to his office—without a minute to spare, for it was twenty til noon GMT. She paid the cab driver double to wait for her, and entered the huge reflective doors of the office complex. It took her only a minute to find his office. A quick stop in a ladies’ room reassured her that she had somehow survived the travel looking fairly presentable, and she quickly donned the rest of her costume.

Standing now in the outer office, she looked perfectly calm and collected in her uniform-like black pantsuit, with white dickey and bow tie in the V of the suit jacket. A short-brimmed black cap hid all her hair and was pulled down low nearly to her eyes. A pair of large sunglasses hid much of her face. She thought she might pass for a messenger, but also knew she might look a little too good. She carried a small attaché case.

The receptionist looked up from her work. “Yes, can I help you?”

“I have a special delivery for Bruce.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I must give it to him personally.”

“He’s very busy right now.”

“I won’t be long.”

A spark of recognition gleamed in the receptionist’s eyes and she turned to her phone console and pressed the intercom button. “Bruce, there’s a special delivery for you,” and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I think your wife sent you a stripper.”

The intruder blushed a bit, but kept her composure and thought, Hmm, close.

The receptionist returned her gaze to the woman and said, “You can go in but he’s very busy and he has to leave in 10 minutes for lunch with his wife.” The warning and the accusatory tone were clear.

She opened the door and entered Bruce’s spacious office and took a moment to take in the details, for he was turned away from the door, typing rapidly on his computer.

Without turning around, he said, “Just a moment, let me just finish this trade or my wife won’t be able to afford to pay you.”

She smiled as she realized that the deception was still intact. Finally Bruce turned toward her in his swivel chair, saying, “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got. I have to leave here in 10 minutes.”

She removed her cap, shook her head once and her long, straight blonde hair cascaded down her back. Keeping her sunglasses on, she unbuttoned the suit jacket and shed it in a single motion by simply shrugging her shoulders once. One more quick move and the dickey-and-tie disappeared. She stood topless before him. She smiled when she saw him staring at her nipples with puzzlement. She knew they were her best feature, and wondered if he was beginning to catch on. His startled look told her that he more likely was wondering how his wife could know that his online mistress had long straight blonde hair and pencil-eraser nipples.

When she removed the oversized wrap-around sunglasses and finally broke into a huge smile, she saw his jaw literally drop.

“Oh, my God, Sahara. How did you...how could...you’re not...”

“BA,” she said, and then added, “frequent-flier miles.”

As he came out from behind his desk to greet her she stopped him with an outstretched hand. He clearly intended to embrace her, maybe even to kiss her. That would be going way too far. She had agreed to his wife’s rule about no face-to-face meeting, and was about to further to violate it. But kissing or hugging would, in her mind at least, be even worse. After all, face-to-cock wasn’t face-to-face, she thought wryly.

“The rules, Bruce. But, I’ve come to collect my Valentine’s Day present and there’s no time to talk.”

“But I didn’t get you anyth…”

“No time to talk Bruce. I’m here for my Valentine’s Day present.”

“Oh, shit, Sahara, I didn’t know…”

“Not another word about it. I’m about to collect my present now.”

Sahara dropped to her knees in front of him, grabbed eagerly at the impressive package that was barely hidden by his wool suit pants. She took the zipper in her teeth, looked up at him with pleading blue eyes and slowly lowered it. She then reached inside and extracted a long, lovely cock and immediately surrounded it with her hungry mouth, laving its entire surface with rapid movements of her tongue. She repeatedly brushed her hard nipples against his slacks and they brought heat and wetness to her loins.

He touched her head everywhere, with long slow strokes along her blonde hair, gently sliding the backs of his hands along her soft cheeks, fingertips tracing the lines of her neck. She felt petted and reveled in the attention.

Her fist grabbed the hardening member and pulled back the foreskin completely, revealing the full purple glory of his engorged cock. Her long tongue explored every crevice and ridge of his cock and spent time circling the base of the cockhead. A few random flicks of her tongue-tip teased the small opening from which would flow her present.

He reached down as far as he could with grasping fingers and found her nipples even more extended than he had ever imagined them to be. He took each between a thumb and forefinger and teased them—tweaking, pinching lightly, pulling a bit. She knew now that the trip would be doubly pleasurable for if he kept it up, she, too, would come. Her own wetness was already soaking her panties and she was glad for their last-minute addition, for she rarely wore them.

“Keep teasing them, Bruce, they love it,” she said as she reached into his pants to bring into view the rest of the package, paused briefly to admire the balls, then went to work with her tongue, tasting each and teasing the opposite with gentle, nimble fingers. She took each into her mouth completely and sucked gently, releasing each with a wet plopping sound.

Returning her attention to his glistening cock, she licked its length on all sides and took the swollen glans into her mouth to suck it, lick it and scrape her teeth along its sensitive surface. Reaching a free hand inside his pants she massaged his buttocks, then gently probed the entry to his anus with a circular motion.

He continued to play with her nipples as she began to take more and more of him into her mouth and throat with increasingly forceful thrusts of her head. Speeding up and feeling his cock begin to pulse she went into the frenzied face-fucking deep-throat mode that she knew would soon bring his release. As his cockhead continued to bang her throat, she began to tease his O-ring more insistently and managed to mumble muffled words from around his plunging pile-driving cock, “twist them, hard, now,” and thrust a finger into his anus.

He began to shudder and so did she as he began to maul her sensitive nipples. His forceful orgasm coated her throat and the inside of her mouth and she worked her tongue to try to capture every last drop. As his pulsations began to subside, hers continued throughout her body and she tried to maintain her concentration on gobbling down every last drop of her Valentine’s Day present. When he had finally stopped squirting into her, she used her tongue to clean his penis, milked the few last drops from it with her busy hands, then gave a final sucking kiss to the tip of his glans, savoring a final taste.

On wobbly legs she regained her feet, wetness pervading her crotch, her entire body flushed red, her face one giant smile as she said, “Thank you for my present, Bruce. It was exactly what I wanted. Now we must both go. You don’t want to be late.”
She put on the suit jacket, buttoned it across her bare breasts, placed the dickey in her pocket, donned the sunglasses, turned to leave and hesitated, tossing him the black cap like a Frisbee.

“A souvenir,” she said as she strode out of his office, still flushed from her own orgasm, a huge smile still on her face from the thought of his.

---​

Before returning to her waiting taxi, she put on a sheer, white blouse she had kept carefully folded in her attaché case.

At a hotel near the airport she quickly checked in for one night to await her morning flight back to Florida. As an afterthought, she asked if there were a pool and maybe someplace to buy a bathing suit. The front desk clerk sent her to the concierge to obtain a pool pass, and the friendly concierge informed her:

“You know we also have a very nice workout facility. And the gift shop also has gym togs if you need them. The people up there are very helpful and very friendly. How long will you be with us?”

“Just tonight, I’m afraid. I flew over for one short meeting today and am returning to the States tomorrow morning.”

“Short visit. Successful, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, successful.” Sahara blushed, then broke into a wide smile as she added, “As a matter of fact: Mission Accomplished.”

-30-​

(Part 2: HER VALENTINE’S DAY SURPRISE will follow shortly)​

 

amazing story. i came twice while reading it. sahara; you are a very talented writer, especially for an old slutty whore.

 

I think you should go with whatever feels right so far as using first or third person in your stories is concerned. Come to think of it, with your style you might even be able to handle a second person story.

 

Another amazing story Sahara. Cant wait to read your next one.

Btw, how've you been?

 

Thanks for the writing compliment, anyway, xc. Oh wait, maybe the last part was a compliment, too.

Thanks, e. Doing well, just trying to find the time to keep writing more.

 

Great story Sahara .Keep up the good work.:rose:xoxoox

 

Thanks for the advice, J.A.W. I may well try the 'second person' challenge and see where it takes me. Maybe the wastebasket, but it sounds like an interesting idea.

 

Thanks, Sexy! Kind words help keep the fingers typing.

 

Great story Sahara. Can't wait for the next one. Believe me...

 

Sweet

Another great story. Keep Writing.

 

.................................................nice Story!!!!!!!!! I Love It

 

Thanks, MP. Coming ones will visit exotic locales, and begin putting the fictional lead character into more challenging situations.

Glad you guys enjoyed it. I'm typing. There'll be more.

 

شكرا

 

To say that I am at a loss for words would be an understatement. I don't know if I just got praised or trashed or something else altogether. I'm kerfluffled.

 

Fantastic story Sahara (yet again !)

 

good

 

Thanks, guys. Appreciate the kind words--they keep me typing.

 

Impressive!

Your style of writing grabs a reader from the beginning and doesnt let go, plus crafts a perfect mental image as we go through the story, truly great work! Please continue to write

 

Thanks, JM, very kind words.

 

great story :-D