Sally wore only a short, sheer, red robe that had black hearts and black roses woven in. Feeling nippy, she closed the second-story window and lost herself while watching the February white snow cover the red. The drag marks leading into the black woods bordering her property were already almost gone. 

She turned her attention back to Beau and kissed his porky, scruffy chest while unbuttoning his best plaid flannel shirt. “Thank you for the candy and the card, Beau. And you brought a rose, just like I asked.” 

A single hand-crafted tapered candle, heart-red on top and black on the bottom, was all that lit the small bedroom that night – a night with a new moon for old loves. Beau’s high school senior picture, taken more than ten years ago, was positioned on the nightstand next to the solitary twin bed. 

“You’re welcome, Sals. What’s Valentine’s Day without candy and flowers, right? And I know you always liked your candy.” 

Sally gritted her teeth as she unbuckled his belt.  “I did. Maybe too much.” Her face was as round as it had always been but her body was less so. Breasts too small for her frame had been upraised, as had her organs, shoved up into her lungs by years of abusive waist trainers. The candy would be flushed away when she was done here. 

“I have to admit that I was really surprised when you invited me and figured, 'no fucking way,' but then I checked your Insta and thought, ‘damn, she grew up good!’” 

Fuck you. Sally kissed him below his belly button and looked up at him through extra-long, very black falsies. “You too, so manly, even more than I hoped.” She licked her way up his torso, one continuous lap, and lingered at a nipple. 

“Damn, girl! I don’t get it. I like it, but I don’t get it.” 

The girl stood on red-and-black painted tip-toes, affectionately, seductively rubbed her body against his, and stuck her tongue in his ear. “You were my first,” she whispered. “On Valentine’s Day.” She jammed her hand under his waistband and seized his assets – hard enough to make him flinch but not so hard that he couldn’t chuckle at flinching. 

Sally pushed him to sit on the shabby bed and tugged his jeans off by the legs. “Recognize the bed, Beau? It’s the same bed, the same covers where you took me way back then. Isn’t it romantic?” She sucked on his prick through the fabric of his shorts, making it wet with her drool. 

“Oh, sure. Hope you cleaned them since then, heh-heh. Shit, that feels good.” 

“Does it? I’m glad.” Sally slid his shorts out from under him and let his rubbery erection spring free. “I remember when you didn’t think I was doing it right.” She easily took him as far down her throat as it would go, which wasn’t very far at all, and wiggled her tongue around as she kept the vacuum drawn. He moaned as she slowly pulled back and teased the tip. 

“I’ve been practicing – a lot – just in case someday you would let me try again. And you know what? I like to swallow now. Remember how you used to make me swallow? I was a silly girl then. How could I not love your man cream?” 

Sally lifted the hem of her robe to show off her smooth pussy. “But that’s not where your cream is going tonight, at least the first time. It’s going right into my cunt.” She climbed behind him and lay spread-eagle for him, patting her pussy with the rose. “Right. In. My. Cunt.” 

Beau scrambled to get on top of her but she stopped him. “Watch me make myself wet first. Would you do that for me? I wasn’t really ready before, back then. Maybe that’s why I cried.”  

She teased her lips apart and watched him, erect on his knees, as he watched her. Her delicate finger tapped the tiny bead that emerged from his mushroom tip and drew back a glistening cobweb; the bead that followed was left to hang. “You loved me, right? ‘Cause I’ve always loved you. You loved me when you made love to me?” 

“Sure I did, Baby. You know that’s true. But we were, what, seventeen or eighteen then.” 

“You broke up with me, though, right after. You said you wanted to be with her – the one you married after you graduated. I was bad in bed, wasn’t I? I was a bad fuck.” 

“No, no…” 

“Well, she was better, huh?” 

“Well, no…” 

“That’s okay. I let you take off the rubber. I let you cum in me. You said she let you. You said she swallowed. She must have been a better fuck because she didn’t love you more than I did.” 

The red half of the candle had dripped down onto the black. Sally stopped talking and Beau didn’t know what to say or do until she spread her pussy open for him. “Do you like that? Make love to me, Beau, nice and slow.” 

Beau fell on top of Sally and she grabbed his prick before he could jam it in. 

“Hey! I said slow!” she scolded before calming herself. “Baby, please,” she said softly, “let’s make this last, not fast. I’ve wanted this for so many years.” She allowed him in at her pace and rewarded him with a moan. “Hmm, yeah, that’s my big man. Not too quick. Make me cum. Let me cum first. I want to cum all over your prick for you.” 

Sally slapped the rose onto his back, piercing their skin with its thorns which only dug in deeper the more he tried to get away. "What the fuck, Sals!” 

“Shh, Baby, shh, it’s okay. It’s just a little prick. We have a blood bond now, a blood love bond. Oh, I’m gonna cum so hard, soon. Don’t you feel it too? Don’t stop. Aren’t I good now? Tell me. Tell me I’m a better fuck than your wife. You’re so much better than my husband.” 

She hadn’t mentioned a husband and it bothered Beau enough that he stopped thrusting. “You have a husband?” 

“Don’t stop, Beau. We have all the time we need – I think.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and jump-humped him to get him going again. “We have to finish what you started before he comes home. He can be a real beast.” 

The old bed creaked below the insubstantial mattress throughout Sally’s loudly enacted ecstasy until she stage-whispered, “Beau. Stop. Did you hear that?” 

Beau kept grunting until she repeated herself. “What? No, I didn’t hear nothing.” 

“Get off me, Beau. Get off. I heard footsteps.” Floorboards creaked under her feet as she crept to the door and peered through the crack as she opened it. “Nobody.”  

“C’mon, Sals! Li’l Beau’s gettin' cold!” 

“Oh, Beau, yes, I’m sorry. C’mere, Li’l Beau!” she giggled as she bounced back onto the bed. “Big Beau? I changed my mind. I want you to shoot Li’l Beau on my face. Cum on my face and not in my pussy, okay?” 

“Sure, sure…” 

“I mean it, Beau. I want you to make me cum and then cum on my face. Okay? Maybe my tits.” 

Beau grunted something that might have been an agreement; he was too close to care. Sally wrapped her legs tightly around him all the while humping furiously and shouting, “Don’t cum in me. Don’t cum in me…” 

He did. He emptied his balls into her pussy and she laughed about it. “You shouldn’t have done that, Beau!” Sally shoved him off, up, and over onto his back and scrambled to sit on his face before he could react. She wriggled his jaws apart and squeezed his spunk from her cunt into his mouth. 

“How do you like it, Beau?” If he was protesting, she couldn’t tell – his muffled words only served to buzz her clit. “You said you wouldn’t, Beau. Tastes nasty, doesn’t it? Your spunk is nasty!” Sally ground her cunt on his face, demanding that he make her cum. “You said! You said you’d pull out! You said you wouldn’t cum in my mouth! You said you loved me!” 

They heard the front door downstairs close. “Sally?” 

Sally froze and Beau tried to escape. She wound her legs around his neck and hung onto her ankles to keep him locked. “I. Said. Make. Me. CUM!” 

“Sally?” the voice called out again. 

“I’m up here!” she shouted. “You better hurry, Beau. My husband’s a mean one.” 

Beau finally shoved himself free with a curse. “Gimme my clothes,” he demanded. He cursed again when they heard footsteps thumping up the stairs. 

Sally threw open the window and tossed his clothes out to fall on top of the others. 

“Dammit, Sally!” 

“You can climb down the drain pipe. Quick! And watch out for the blood on your back. He can smell blood. I told you, my husband can be a monster when he wants to be. Run!” 

With no other choice, Beau climbed out the window stark naked into the darkness and cold and snow. Sally quickly removed his picture from its frame and set it afire with the dying candle’s flame. The dead candle landed on the ground just as Beau did and the charred photo fluttered behind them. “And don’t call me ‘Sals!’” She slammed the window down when Beau began to scream. The screams didn't last long.

“I’m in here,” Sally sing-sang. The new photo was in the frame, and the fresh candle was lit by the time the bedroom door opened. “Hi, Baby!” she said with her arms opened wide. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” 

“Wow, Sally, you look – wow! I was surprised when I got your invitation after all these years, and now I’m really glad I accepted. Happy Valentine’s Day!” 

“Aw, you remembered to bring a rose.” 

Three down…