13th February 2010 - News - Leave a Comment

Valentine Threesome.

Oh yeah baby, I’ve got a hot and horny threesome for you just in time for Valentine’s day. I haven’t written that many Valentine specific books but here are three that pretty much fit the bill.

First, Getting Physical. Terri meets John at the local gym, she has hang ups about her weight but so does he even though they are the complete oposites of each other. John is there to bulk up and Terry is there to slim down.

Through a chain of interesting events this pair finally get it together on Valentine’s day after lusting after each other for quite some while from a distance. Here’s a little snippet from their Valentine’s evening.

We decided upon pizza and I dialed, ordered, and disappeared into the kitchen to get wine. As I chose glasses, I took stock: a beautiful woman, good food, and sparkling wine on Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t possibly muck it up, could I? I could see my mother nodding her head vigorously from her sneering seat in Heaven. I remembered the dead cert of three years ago, where I managed to send the poor girl to casualty. It couldn’t possibly get that bad, could it? I took several deep breaths and walked back into the living room.

Terri had found the stereo and was flicking through my CD collection. Bent at the waist, her shapely bottom was straining towards me through the material of her dark-blue skirt. The glasses in my hand clinked and clattered, alerting her to my presence. She turned her head to the side and smiled. The glasses clinked some more as I placed them on the coffee table; one fell to its side.

“You okay?” Suddenly she was beside me, her hand hovering beside mine and righting the fallen glass.

“Yeah. Just a bit, you know, nervous.” Before now, all my worst experiences involved women finding out I wasn’t as experienced as I pretended to be. This time I decided I was probably a lot safer working it the other way round. I sat down as I didn’t trust my legs to hold me upright at that moment.

“Nervous?” Her lips lifted at a quizzical angle. “Why?”

She grasped the neck of the wine bottle firmly, tipped it, and the contents spilled forth in effervescent streams. It bubbled up higher and higher, ’til she stopped, and everything calmed down; the air still agitating the liquid, but its movement resting just below the surface.

I took the proffered glass and cradled it in my fingers. In for a penny, in for a pound…

“I’m not very good with women. I manage to insult them and sometimes even injure them—accidentally of course.” My eyes flicked up, and she was leaning forward, bent at the waist, pouring wine for herself. My gaze rested in the cleft of her bosom.

“There’s no need to worry,” she replied, straightened up, and then slipped into the seat next to me. “In fact, I’m kind of nervous, too.” She reached out and took my hand and laid it on her breast. “My heart is thumping.”

And it was. I could feel it: ba da bump, ba da bump, ba da bump. I could feel her nipple pressing into the palm of my hand, too. I licked my lips.

“I can feel it.” I gasped, lifting my gaze from my hand on her breast to her face. Then I felt her lips press against my own. Soft, plump, and giving, they undulated against mine which were hard with shock. The constant pressure worked on my lips until they were as soft and malleable as hers. My hand was still over her breast and experimentally I gave a gentle squeeze. I was rewarded by a sexy gasp that tickled all my senses. I squeezed again, cupping and moulding as my other hand grasped onto her waist. I needed to hold on, because I was afraid that if I didn’t, I’d be shaken out of the dream and back to my lonely reality.

Her hands were in my hair, fingers splayed, pulling me closer in a fiercely sexual way. One hand slipped down to my chin and gently cradled me there, comforting me, encouraging me. If I sat for a million years, I’d never be able to name every emotion and sensation that ran through me at that moment. I was a bundle of confusion, but I trusted her.

I trusted her to lead me, and I would follow anywhere.

“Stand up,” she hissed, our lips parting. “Stand up, stand up!” I stood up, wondering if I’d done something wrong, but she followed me. Stretching her whole body along the length of mine, she kissed me again as her fingers tangled in my buttons and pulled them apart one by one, until my shirt was totally undone. Her fingers ran up and down my thin, gangly body and as she pulled out of the kiss and looked at me. I wanted to cover myself up. I felt awkwardly exposed.

“No, don’t hide. You’re gorgeous,” she rasped, her voice heavy with emotion. I shook my head and looked down, but left my shirt open. I heard a rustle and looked up. She was undoing her blouse.

“I don’t think I’m beautiful,” she said, popping one button after another. “Do you think I’m beautiful?” She let the material fall from her shoulders.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “And I think you are gorgeous, even if you feel self conscious.”

She reached behind herself and unclipped her white bra. Pulling it forward, she threw it to the ground, and I felt my cock bob with pleasure as I watched her breasts wobble and settle on her chest.

“I am standing here, exposed,” she continued as she slipped off her skirt. I saw those perfect curves and moaned. She was, and is, a goddess. “And I don’t like how my body looks. I look down and I see saggy tits, drooping stomach, and fat thighs.”

“No,” I began to protest but she pressed a finger to my lips and silenced me.

“But, I want you to see me naked. When you look at me, I feel sexy.”

It hit me then, what she was trying to say. I shouldn’t hold back. She certainly wasn’t. I was sexy in her eyes, and she wanted to see me—nothing hidden.

I slipped the shirt off my shoulders and was rewarded by a sweet smile. I pulled at the belt of my trousers and heard her gasp. Letting my trousers drop away was difficult. I had been made fun of at school. I’d been called lanky, string bean, long streak of piss. I didn’t want her to be disappointed, but I needn’t have worried. Her response was more than positive. She moaned and hooked her fingers inside the waistband of her white, cotton knickers and looked into my eyes.

“Together?”

I nodded and inched down my boxers. My eyes were glued to her thighs and the material rapidly disappearing from between. I forgot all my insecurities as she stood naked in front of me.

“Beautiful.” I gasped and reveled in the visual bounty before me before reaching out to caress it. My hands moved over her flesh, enjoying the softness of her creamy skin. I skimmed my fingers down her back, curved over her buttocks, then moved my hands to her feminine hips. I was in awe, and I just wanted to worship her, every inch of her womanhood.

However, I was being distracted by her hands skimming all over me: my back, my buttocks, my chest and down to… Oh, fuck!

BUY Getting Physical NOW – $2.99
Next we move on to Getting Intimate. Now this story isn’t technically a Valentine’s tale but it does involve a Valentine’s day card in the middle of summer and a romantic re-enactment of Valentine’s day so I think it counts. Getting Intimate is the next installment in Terri and John’s story. They’ve been together 6 months and their relationship is going from strength to strength well, that is until the ‘stick insect’ gets involved and Terri begins to think that John is cheating on her. John has to convince her of how very much he loves her or the whole relationship will break apart.

Here’s an excerpt for your enjoyment:

The envelope languished there for most of the day before I looked at it again. I picked it up and purposefully carried it to the kitchen, meaning to dump it in the bin. I couldn’t do it, though. Yet I also couldn’t face opening it. So it sat on top of the fireplace for another hour while I did my best to ignore it. It worked, as long as I wasn’t thinking about it — but it would always catch my attention as I walked through my living room.
I managed to ignore it until five o’clock that Saturday evening. I just couldn’t leave it alone a moment longer. I walked in from the garden, where I’d thrown myself into pruning, weeding and digging. My garden appreciated it. Normally I was a terrible, neglectful gardener. I threw my garden gloves onto the kitchen table and walked into the front room. . It was scorching hot and I was glad to be in the coolness of my home.
I was going to sit down and gather myself before putting together something for supper, but I saw the red envelope on the mantelpiece and I found myself walking over to it. Before I knew it, I had it in my hands. I took a few steps, and then perched on the edge of the sofa. My eyes never once looked up from the letter.
Then I had an open envelope in my hand. I never worked out why or how; I don’t remember thinking that I would open it and I don’t remember opening it, but I did. I know I could still have thrown it away or put it back down, but somehow it seemed rude to do so. I pulled on the cream card inside and slowly eased it out, my hands shaking like I was in a deep freeze.
The card had a gorgeous, embossed red rose on the front. The words Be My Valentine were embossed below. I screwed up my brows in confusion, but opened the card.
Dearest Terri. Six months ago we met in the gym and I fell in love. We went on our first date on the fourteenth of February. I invite you to join me back at the gym at seven pm on the fourteenth of August. There I will prove to you that I love you with all my heart and I never, ever want to lose you.
I miss you so much. Please come.
All my Love,
John x

I was confused, really confused. Reading his words made me smile; remembering how we met made me smile; but then all I could see was her lips pressed against his and the tears began to fall again. I had to think, when was the fourteenth? I walked over to the calendar on the hall wall and looked and realised that it was today. John wanted me to meet him in just two hours. I didn’t know if I could. I wanted to, I wanted it to all be made better, but I wasn’t sure if I could bear it. Would I even be able to look at him without thinking of her and feeling disgusted? Could I give him another chance?

BUY Getting Intimate NOW – $2.99
And the last one of our Threesome is Secret Surprise. This story was released at this time last year by Total-E-Bound and is the story of a shy and retiring virgin who indulges her exhibitionist streak on the bus to work one morning. The bus driver then invites her to play hooky from work on Valentine’s day and gives her the ultimate present.

“Are you comfy?” he whispered and I nodded my head.

“If you need an extra pillow, use me, okay?”

“Okay.” I smiled and took another gulp of the wine. It was only as the film started that I realised how strange all this was. I had headed to work that morning planning to pass over a Valentine’s card to a bus driver I’d masturbated in front of and had ended up sitting next to him on his bed sipping wine and watching a DVD. Very strange indeed.

The wine started to work on me. My cheeks were flushed and hot, and my head was beginning to feel a little fuzzy. I reached over the side of the bed and put down the glass. It only had a little bit left in the bottom. I decided to leave it. I didn’t want to get drunk right now. I wanted to savour the moment. As I sat back up I felt a little dizzy and so leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder. He turned and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

I rested there for a while, comfortable and warm. I watched the film but couldn’t keep my mind on its simple plot. I was simply aware of his body so close to mine. I saw his chest lifting and falling and felt his warmth and hard body through the T-shirt material covering his arm.

“Hmm, let me just move a little. My shoulder’s falling asleep,” he said.

I don’t know if he meant it or if it was just an excuse to slide his arm around me. I found myself leaning against the top of his chest, just in the sensual curve of his neck. He smelled so good, musky and spicy and wonderfully masculine.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and I nodded my head gently, enjoying the stimulation of skin against his skin.

“I’m very comfortable, thank you, are you?”

“Oh yes,” he replied and stroked his hand down my arm then squeezed me. “I am very comfortable indeed, sweetheart.”

I was happy where I was, embraced and relaxed but underneath the peace and comfort ran a live wire of arousal that meant I wasn’t truly relaxed. I wanted to reach my hand over, to rest it on his crotch, to open the zip and touch his naked cock. I wanted to kiss his neck, to nibble the flesh and maybe even leave my mark. I wanted him to reach over and caress my breast or for his other hand to slide down from my shoulders to my waist and lower to squeeze and later spank my arse. I furiously boiled away inside and I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to make the first move. I was petrified of upsetting or hurting him.

“Jane?” His voice startled me from my thoughts and I lifted up my head.

“Yes—”

His lips fell on mine and he kissed me. I can’t say that we kissed. I was too shocked to join in. He kissed me. He pressed his lips hard against mine, and I took the heavenly pressure and tried to gather my thoughts. His hands wrapped around me, one rested on the back of my neck and the other cupped my waist. I pressed my hand out, almost in panic but instead of pushing him away, I ran my hand slowly across his chest.

The hand at my waist crept higher and it carried the light, scratchy material of my too-tight work shirt up my body with it. His fingers whispered over my flesh and I moaned with delight, unable to hold it in. His kiss deepened, his tongue slipped out into my mouth and tentatively, I wiggled mine in response, rubbing it against his.

I wanted to feel his skin, so I slipped my hand down to the edge of his T-shirt and slipped my hand beneath it. It was his turn to moan as my fingers crawled up over his stomach and chest. He felt good, hard but soft enough to give a little under my fingers. A few hairs tickled my fingers round his chest and his nipples felt hard and gritty as I experimentally swept my fingers across them.

“You minx,” he gasped. “My turn now.” He pulled away from our kiss and moved both his hands to the front of me. He fiddled with my buttons and eventually got each one undone. I watched him and helped to slip off the shirt. Before I could feel the cold air, his arms were around me and he was pulling apart the clasp of my bra.

“Tim,” I exclaimed as I felt it pop loose and my breasts dropped a little without the lifting aid of the bra. I was scared he’d hate the sight of my large breasts. They were nowhere near perky and perfect. I was worried he’d be disgusted.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I want to see you and feel you. Please?”

I nodded my acquiescence, and he pulled the bra forward and slipped it down my arms. “Oh God, Jane, you’re beautiful.” He ran his fingers down my chest and around my breasts, teasing the skin and zoning in on my nipples.

“So soft, so creamy, what beautiful breasts.” His eyes focused on my chest, his tone conveyed deep delight and his fingers worshipped my flesh. I felt elated and in a contrast to moments earlier I pushed my chest out wantonly and gasped as he took my nipples in his fingers and squeezed and tugged at them. A second later, he was man-handling one into his mouth. The feel of his suction drove me wild, and I groaned to let out some of the sexual pressure building up inside of me from his examination and gentle but demanding fingers.

He pushed me. I squealed as I fell back onto the mattress as I was taken totally by surprise. I pulled my legs up onto the bed and lost myself in a tangle of limbs, but after a moment of confusion Tim was above me, his legs between my thighs and his body above me.

“You scared me.” I slapped his arm. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“It’s more fun this way.” He laughed, and before I articulated a reply, his lips hit mine and I forgot what I was going to say.

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I hope those have gotten you in the mood for Valentine’s day. Enjoy!

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