MICRO MONDAY, EROTIC ROMANCE, VALENTINE’S DAY EROTICA, FLASH FICTION
The Poke of Love
A Valentine’s Day quickie
I’d barely rubbed the sleep out of my eyes before he was on top of me, kissing my neck and prying my legs open with his knees.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” he whispered in my ear as I felt his cock swiftly sink into me, giving me the shot of adrenaline I needed to fully wake up.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” I repeated as I looked up into his eyes, admiring the crooked smile that got me every single time. I opened my legs wider to give him full access to my pussy, which had also woken up to the thrusts he delivered with the precision of a penile piston. I felt her opening, receiving, meeting his cock with her juices that sucked and sealed them together in very much the same way our hearts had been locked together for all those years.
Never breaking our gaze, never relaxing our mouths from the enduring, endearing smiles plastered on our faces, I wrapped my legs around his waist until my ankles comfortably fastened together. I began moving my hips up and down forcefully to meet his. I reached my hands out to rub his hairy chest, pinching his surprised nipples in the way he always loved, the way that always made him instinctively pound me even harder.
And he did. With determination and commitment, we thrusted and thrashed and wiggled and writhed until my walls clamped around his hardness and he squirted the culmination of our quickie into me. He collapsed on top of me, sweaty and satisfied, and I twirled his hair with my fingertips, trying not to think about the fact that he’d soon be gone.
I sighed, I couldn’t help it. He knew what it meant, and he lifted his body up and stroked my cheek with understanding reassurance.
“You know I have to go to work,” he whispered.
“I know. I just wish we could for once spend Val — ”
“I know. I get that. It’s okay,” he said before pressing his mouth against mine, making me long for another session.
But there was no time, I knew that. As he climbed off of me, I tried to hide my disappointed pout, tried to put on a brave face to support him.
After all, he is the embodiment of romance.
I watched as he grabbed his bow and arrow, the accoutrements of love, and put on his wings.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be my last poke for the night,” he said with a wink.
“Okay, Cupid,” I said as I felt my heart flutter.
More from Kiki Wellington:
