This work is an erotic piece of fiction and if it is
illegal for you to be reading such works, then please do
not continue. This work is copyrighted. Reposting or any
other use is prohibited without my written permission. I
welcome all comments, suggestions and even criticisms.
Email me at femNOSPACEecrivain at netdot dot com
or use the handy form on my website:
http://www.asstr.org/~Souvie
I've revised it a bit since it was posted on Valentine's
Day 2000. I took some constructive criticism, and hopefully
it's a better now. *smile*
(This was in reply to Shon's "Reinventing Valentine's Day"
challenge.)
The Folly of Eros
by Souvie
copyright 2000, 2001, 2002
EPILOGUE:
"You're gonna lose. I know you are." Discord danced on
the balls of her feet and looked smug.
"I will not," Anteros, aka 'Tony', replied.
"Technically, it's not even started," Eros added. "The
bet between you two was that he could make her fall in love
by *next* Valentine's Day."
"I don't remember that!"
"You were just too drunk yesterday to remember much of
anything," Anteros teased. He rested underneath the
branches of a laurel tree, chewing on a blade of grass. He
turned bright blue eyes to his brother. "She was toasted,
wasn't she?"
"Very," Eros answered.
"I was not!" Discord hollered, and stamped her foot like a
petulant child. At the looks from both she relented.
"Well, maybe just a tiny bit."
Anteros chewed his bottom lip and looked thoughtful.
"Look, you claim you thought it was this Valentine's Day, I
claim it was next -- why don't we compromise and say
Valentine's Day 2002?"
"Two years?!" Discord screeched.
"Don't get your in a bunch," Eros said. "Look at
her, Discord," he motioned toward the image that was
projected onto a cloud. "Not even could perform that
miracle."
"Well, I guess so," she said grudgingly. "Two years from
today it is then."
Eros laughed and clapped his on the back. "I just
hope you know what you're getting yourself into, little
brother. The love business was not all that people made it
out to be. It wasn't just flying around naked and shooting
people indiscriminately. Oh no. It involved careful
planning, timing and research. Much as any other job. The
only reason he'd turned a little of his workload over to
Anteros in the first place was because Psyche was
complaining that he was spending too much time at work, and
not enough time between the sheets with her.
"I have no idea what I'm getting into," he answered. "I
just know that I'm going to win. No way do I want to have
to do Discord's homework for
100 years."
The laughed. "Any more than I want to take
over polishing and cleaning Eros' arrows for the next
century."
Anteros looked up at the clouds and thought about a woman
with lines on her forehead that he wanted to smooth away,
lips with a slight tilt downward that he wanted to see
smiling and deep hazel eyes that he longed to see beckon
him with the fire of passion. "I promise you, by February
14th 2002, Valentine *will* know what it is like to lose
herself to love."
*****
"Aaaahhhhhchoo!"
"Geeze, Val, are you sure you're going to be fine here all
by yourself?"
Shelly asked, calling out from her bedroom.
"I told you, I'm fine. It's just a little cold."
"Well," said the blonde, hopping into the living
room as she tried to put on an impossibly high set of
shoes, "I just hate to go off and leave you when you're so
sick."
"When has it stopped you before?" Val mumbled into a
kleenex.
"Huh?"
"I said don't let me stop you."
"Oh. Well..." That was her word of the week. Every other
sentence started with that word. "I will ask Mrs.
Feinstein to come over and check on you."
"That's okay," Val said hurriedly. Ida Feinstein was 83
years and had garlic breath. She was also a 'talker',
and the one thing Val was counting on tonight was peace and
quiet.
"Well, I mean if you're sure now?" Shelly had finished
putting her shoes on and was now checking the contents of
her purse, fixing the spaghetti straps on her skin-tight
minidress, blotting her lipstick - the usual last minute
things did before a big date.
Shelly walked around to the front of the couch and gave
her roommate a sorrowful look.
"Shelly, it's Valentine's Day, and tonight's your big date
with Leon. It's all you've talked about for weeks now. You
will not stay home with me, and you certainly will *not*
worry about me while you're out dining and dancing and
doing other things that I don't even want to think about."
Shelly giggled and twisted the class ring she wore on her
left hand. Leon had given it to her when they were seniors
in high school and now, 9 years later, she was hoping that
tonight he would replace it with an engagement ring.
A car horn sounded from below and Shelly dashed to the
door. "Don't wait up," she giggled, blowing Val a kiss and
then locking the door behind her.
"Alone at last," Val muttered as she pulled the coffee
table closer. She inventoried her makeshift pharmacy -
cough medicine, nasal spray, tissues, lemon tea, the latest
Dean Koontz novel, remote. She didn't
feel much like reading so she started flipping channels.
Val was a realist when it came to almost everything. She
didn't believe
in the ever circulating 'urban legends', she refused to
forward along chain letters, she knew that it didn't matter
how much chocolate she ate, it wouldn't cause her skin to
break out in unsightly blemishes. And above all, she
didn't believe in everlasting love -- the kind that was
associated with Valentine's Day. After several failed and
painful relationships, she had come to the conclusion that
she was better off alone. She was happy with that...most
of the time.
She continued flipping through the channels, bypassing the
trite romantic movies, the played-out sitcoms, and the
tedious infomercials. Ah, here we go. "Predator." Val
snuggled into the cushions and lost herself in Arnold's
bulging biceps. It was very rare that she got to just "veg
out" like this, and even though she was sick, she was going
to enjoy it. She deserved it, after the day she'd had.
The day had started out on a bad note with Val waking with
a runny nose, watery eyes and a persistent cough that had
sent her running for a
glass of water from the tap. She'd called in to work and
asked for a sick day, only to find out that she didn't have
any more on the books; she'd apparently used them up when
she'd been sick with the flu a couple
of months ago. Resigned to losing a day's pay, she'd been
grateful when Shelly had kindly run down to the corner drug
to get cough medicine and other sundries for her. She'd
spent the bulk of the day coughing till her throat was numb
and using up a box and a half of tissues.
Thus it wasn't long into the before her eyelids
started getting heavy and the figures on the screen started
to blur. She shook her head, trying to stay awake a while
longer. The was almost over and it was one of her
favorites. Her fight was valiant, but five minutes later
she was snoring quietly as the played on.
***
Val woke up slowly, as if from a drug-induced stupor. She
realized with
a touch of humor that it probably was drug-induced; the
cough medicine likely had a 'drowsy' warning on the label.
She stretched and turned her head, expecting to see the
fuzzy white static of a station gone off the air. What
she saw instead was a staring back at her. She blinked
but he was still there.
"Hi."
Val rubbed her eyes. He wasn't really talking to her.
"I'm talking to you, Val."
She shook her head, then pinched her leg. "Ouch!" *Okay,
well that doesn't prove anything. I could still be
dreaming.*
"Come on, Val, you can't be that shy," he said teasingly.
"I'm not really seeing you. I'm hallucinating. It's that
damn generic cough medicine Shelly bought me."
"Just what do you see?" he asked playfully.
"A two-dimensional character, who happens to be a
figment of my imagination."
"Such a limited imagination, Val." He smiled. "I'll tell
you what you see. A guy with a nice physique - not too buff
but not too wimpy, either. hair with more than a
touch of to it. Blue eyes with laugh lines at the
corners. Tanned skin. All over. Want to see?" he asked,
reaching for the snap on his jeans.
"NO!" she yelled.
His laugh only made her madder. "Chicken."
"That's enough. You're only a dream. Go away."
He put his hands on his hips. "Oh no you don't. You can't
just dismiss me as you have all the other in your life."
She sat up straighter. "What do you know about my life?
Who are you?"
"Calm down, girl. That was just a lucky guess. I know
little about you, other than the basics." He held up a hand
and ticked off the facts on his fingers. "You are 26 years
old, your full name is Valentine Rae Sanderson, you work
for the school board, and you are a heartless cynic when it
comes to love."
"You could have found all that out by searching public
records. Except the cynic part." She ran a hand through
her tousled hair. "Now will you go away?"
"Why do you hate Valentine's Day so much? It's not just
because you were
named after the holiday, is it?"
"Valentine's Day is nothing but hype, perpetuated by
florists, the greeting card industry and chocolate
manufacturers."
"What a negative way to look at it!" he admonished. "I'll
bet you don't even know the origins of today."
She gave a small snort. "It started out as a pagan feast
of Lupercalia, then the church decided to 'Christianize'
it. Plus the talk of its being the day when the birds
start mating."
He was shaking his head by the time she finished. "All of
that is true,
to a certain extent, but what if I told you it was really
the day that Eros - excuse me, Cupid is the common name -
first saw and fell in love with Psyche." He waited for her
answer, a look of triumph on his face.
"I would say, 'So what?'"
"You mean to tell me you are so deadened to the magic of
today, to love in general, that you wouldn't like to, just
once, get a dozen long-stemmed roses? Or a heart-shaped box
of chocolates? Or spend a decadent weekend in bed with a
lover?"
"Why should today be any more special than say, March 3rd?
It's stupidity."
He frowned. "Are you this negative about Christmas?"
"That's different," she said, playing with the edge of her
blanket.
"Why? Because love isn't involved?" He shook his head and
looked at her with sad eyes. "What screwed you up so
badly that you can't love? Or accept the fact that someone
would love you in return?"
"I've had enough of this lunacy!" Val exclaimed. She
searched through the tissues on the coffee table. "Where's
that damn remote?"
"Want me to come help you look for it?" he joked, then
proceeded to shock the shit out of her by actually stepping
out of her set and into her living room.
There he was. All 6 foot something of him, standing
beside the television, his jeans tighter than the law
allowed and a boyish grin lighting up his face.
Val took the cough medicine and dropped it into the
makeshift wastebasket by the couch. She scanned the room
for the remote. Once she turned the
TV off, he would disappear and she could get back to
sleep. Her dreamless sleep.
A movement from him caught her attention. He was starting
to unbutton his shirt.
"What in the hell are you doing?" she squeaked.
"Getting comfortable," he replied. He winked at her.
"If you're going to strip, could you at least tell me your
name?" She couldn't believe she was having a conversation
with a spectre from her mind.
"For now, you can call me Tony."
"For now? Nevermind. Okay Tony, where is the remote
control?"
He was still unbuttoning his shirt. All he did was smile
at her.
She rifled through the couch cushions, muttering under her
breath.
He slipped out of his and tossed it onto the couch.
She straightened up and turned around.
"Where...is...the...remote?"
"Search me," he quipped, the light from the television
dancing in his eyes.
He had practically taken off a glove and slapped her
across the face, so blatant was his challenge. He didn't
think she'd do it. Ha! Valentine Sanderson was no
simpering schoolgirl!
Val walked up until she was standing toe to toe with him,
determination etched on her face. She reached into his
left pants pocket, felt around a bit, and pulled out a set
of keys, an ticket stub and some pennies. No
remote.
With her other hand, she reached into his left pants
pocket. All she came up with was some lint, a crumbled up
Twinkie package and a button. No remote.
She took a step back and put her hands on her hips. "I
need that remote. It's either in your drawers or your
socks." She looked at him, expectantly.
"Will she keep the luggage and Hawaiian vacation or go for
door #3?"
"Smart ass! Lose the pants!" She was going to find the
remote and turn the television off, thereby relegating this
pompous know-it-all back to never-never land, and then get
back to peaceful solitude.
He didn't seem phased by her orders, just slowly
unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed them down over his legs and
kicked them aside.
"Nice drawers," Val quipped, admiring the white briefs
with small hearts emblazoned all over. She knelt in
front of him and, with him standing on one foot, slid one
sock off. "No remote," she said. Damn, but she was
starting to get aroused. She would be lying to herself if
she said she wasn't turned on by this `game'.
The second sock quickly went the way of the first one, and
Val looked up from her kneeling position to find him
smirking down at her. "Ready to concede that Valentine's
Day isn't so bad after all?"
Val stood up, keeping her eyes off the package delineated
by the tight fit of his briefs. She didn't answer him,
just walked around until she was standing right behind him.
She pressed up close, feeling the heat from his back
through her shirt. She cupped his tight butt in both her
hands and squeezed lightly. He rocked on the balls of his
feet and then steadied himself.
"Firm, but no remote," she said. She smiled, and reached
her arms around the front of his body, slipping them
underneath his own. She slid her hands, palms flat, down
the front of his stomach and then into those tight briefs.
Her hands found something all right, but it wasn't the
remote.
He was chuckling now.
She pulled quickly away and in an accusatory tone, said,
"It's not on you!"
"I never said it was. My exact words were, 'search me'."
"You prick!" She was mad as a hornet but she couldn't
deny the wetness between her thighs. She blamed it on his
veiled innuendo, their heated debate, and the sight of him
in those damn briefs!
He pointed behind her to the television. "Is that what
you're looking for?"
She twirled around and there was the remote, sitting right
on top of the TV.
Dancing away, out of reach, she gave him a look of supreme
satisfaction as she snatched it up in her hand. "Now, as
much as this has all been...enlightening, I'm afraid it's
time to say goodbye."
He didn't look the least bit concerned; just gave her that
wide, smug smile.
She turned the remote to the and clicked the power
button. "Game's over." The shut off. But the in
her living room remained. She pushed the button again.
The came back on. She pressed the button a third time
and watched the on the tube disappear.
He crossed over to her and took the remote from her hands.
He tossed it back on top of the television. Putting his
arms around her waist he replied, "Game's just beginning."
"Wh-what?" she stammered, as he locked his arms under her
hips and carried her the few steps to the couch. He put
her down gently, so that
she was spread out on the cushions once more.
"You," he said, kneeling beside the couch and starting to
remove her clothing, piece by piece, "are probably the most
frustrating woman I have ever met. You refuse to admit
that you might just be the slightest bit wrong."
"Because I'm not."
"Uh huh." He grinned as if he held a secret that would
change the course of the world. "Let's see if I can't
bring you around to my way of thinking."
She was tempted for the briefest moment to slam her hand
into the side of his head and then scream for help. She
hated feeling helpless, like events were out of her
control, but then again, this was all a dream. Why not give
in, just once to that part of herself she kept locked away
from the rest of the world? "You'll lose," she said.
He didn't bother to answer her, just leaned forward to
kiss her and at the last moment, bent his head and kissed
the pulse point at the base of her neck instead. His tongue
danced a path down to the top of one satiny and
traced along the outer edge of it. He slowly and
methodically licked his way around it, squeezing the nipple
gently between his fingers. Her head fell back as a sigh of
satisfaction escaped her lips, her skin rippling with
excitement.
The dusky peaks quickly pebbled with the combination of
his roughened fingers and the cool air. He couldn't resist
such an open invitation. He licked his tongue across a
waiting nipple and then blowing on it, watched as it
constricted even more. He licked it once more and then
sucked the delectable morsel into his mouth.
Any attempt at thought was dashed to the wind, as Tony
moved his attentions to the other breast. Only sensation,
exquisite sensation, remained.
Minutes passed with him moving back and forth between her
sensitized breasts. The lure of her musky sex got to be too
much for him and he scooted down to bury his face between
her straining thighs. He inhaled the scent of her, a
mixture of sweat and desire. Pure ambrosia. Her moans and
whispered, incoherent words were all the encouragement he
needed.
Tony skimmed his palm over the dark triangle of hair at
the juncture of her thighs. He felt her tremble. He
kissed the inside of her thigh, never taking his eyes off
the luscious, swollen lips in front of him. They were large
and pink, the hooded treasure peeking out from between.
Wrapping his arms around her legs, his fingers tickled and
teased her thighs as his lips continued on their upward
journey.
He skirted her pouty, outer lips with butterfly kisses and
was rewarded with Val's sharp gasp of surprise. She pushed
her hips forward but with his upper body pressing down upon
her, she couldn't move that much. He sensed her movements
and pressed down on her abdomen with his hands. "Let me do
all the work, remember?" She nodded and bit her bottom
lip, her eyes wide and glazed with passion.
Tony knew that she'd anticipate his lips on her clit next,
so he stuck out his tongue and licked her, from her clit,
down the edges of her inner lips as far as he could reach.
He repeated the movement several times, applying more
pressure each time, until he'd broached her inner lips and
was tasting the fruit of his labors.
He massaged her flesh, gently pushing his tongue in
deeper. Holding it deep inside, he moved his head from side
to side. Licking her, her. Her moans mingled with
his own as her taste filled his mouth.
By the tensing in her legs, he could tell Val was close to
losing control. He reluctantly drew his tongue out of her
tempting and turned his attention to her pleasure-
reddened clit. He tilted his head forward and down some to
lay his tongue full upon it. He seesawed it back and forth,
increasing the pressure every other time.
His left hand held her lips open, wide and vulnerable to
his demanding mouth. His middle finger slid in and out of
her in a maddeningly slow rhythm. His right hand moved up
to fondle her breast, gently massaging first one and then
the other.
"Oooooooooooooohgooooodyeeeesssssss!" Val screamed as a
hot rush of pure, unadulterated pleasure flooded through
her. Her contracted as Tony rubbed his face in the
flowing juices and gradually gentled his mouth and fingers.
He raised his head and watched her as the last of her
orgasm faded away.
Her hands were clenching the couch cushions and a fine
sheen of sweat covered her slender frame. Her breathing
was slowing down, changing from the shallow, uneven breaths
she'd been taking just a few moments before.
She reluctantly opened her eyes, in time to see him
licking his lips, an
insufferable grin on his face. Shit! He was still so damn
cute!
"It wasn't hearts or flowers or candy, but do you now
admit that Valentine's Day isn't so bad?"
She snuggled deeper into the cushions and closed her eyes.
"Nope. It still sucks bug nuts."
He laughed. He couldn't help himself. He rested his chin
on his hand and watched as her breathing slowed, evened out
and she fell into a deep sleep. He whispered, "We'll see
about that, my stubborn lady. The game is not over yet.
Not by a long shot."
***
"Val! Time to wake up sleepyhead!" Shelly hollered as she
banged pots and pans in the kitchen.
Val moaned and rolled over. Something was different. She
wasn't on the
couch, but in her comfy bed. She rubbed her forehead and
blinked against the bright light filtering in through the
blinds. Last night was a haze of jumbled memories. She
remembered the and falling asleep. And then... Her
eyes flew open wide as she remembered the rest of last
night. She lifted up the covers, but she was dressed in her
old familiar sweats and t-shirt, not totally nude as she'd
feared. Next she looked furtively around the bedroom, as
if she expected to find - what was his name? Oh yes, Tony!
- Tony lurking in a dark corner. She giggled at her
silliness and shook her head. She must have taken more of
the cough medicine than she'd thought. "I'm awake now,
Shell," she called back. "Man, you wouldn't believe the
dream I had last night!"
"I can imagine," Shelly replied. "I already cleaned up
the living room. Could you do me a favor and the next time
you spill something on the couch, at least put a towel over
it? That wet spot is going to take hours to dry out."
Val thought she was going to hyperventilate. *It's sweat.
Or either my tea. Get a grip on yourself woman!*
Nevertheless, she hopped out of bed and ran to the living
room. Kneeling beside the couch she trembled as she
lowered her face to the dark stain on the cushions. She
inhaled the scent of lemons. It was tea. Just as she'd
thought. She breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed,
leaning her back against the couch.
"How did the dinner go?"
Shelly appeared in the kitchen doorway. "He proposed!
Right after dessert." She held up the ring finger of her
left hand. Gone was the senior ring and in its place was a
sparkling heart-shaped diamond.
Val jumped up and walked over to hug her friend tightly.
"Oh Shelly! I'm happy for you, I really am."
Shelly giggled. "Thanks. Now I'm going to finish cooking
breakfast. You look like you feel better today."
"I do," Val answered, following her into the kitchen and
sitting down at the bar. "I guess I just needed some down
time."
"Good!" Shelly worked over the stove for a few minutes
before wiping her hands on a towel. "By the way, I know
I'm sounding like a hen, but why were you eating
Twinkies last night?"
"Twinkies?" Val said, a tingling sensation traveling up
her spine.
"Yes. I picked up a package from in front of the TV.
When you're sick you don't need junk food," Shelly said,
looking back over her shoulder at her friend and smiling.
"Sorry. I'll quit preaching now." She turned back to the
stove.
Val felt her face lose all color. The wrapper hadn't come
from her. She willed her body to stop shaking. There was a
rational explanation. There always was. The alternate was
unthinkable.
THE END...(for now)
*Author's Note: Eros is the Greek counterpart to the Roman
god Cupid. Aphrodite, concerned that her son seemed
to have stopped growing, was told by him that only a
brother would cure the trouble. He was therefore given
Anteros who symbolized reciprocated love. Anteros is also
the god who punishes those who scorn love or do not return
love of others.
Eris is goddess of conflict and strife. Discord is her
daughter.
Anything else, in regard to mythology, that I might have
screwed up, well, consider it dramatic license. :)
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