Eleanor’s Valentine’s Day Wish


This story is a lesbian romance story with a twist. It has been entered in the Valentine’s Day contest.

Please vote.

A “thank you” to Robert, Bob, Molly, James and my sweet pussycat for your comments.

Though not necessary for reading this story, you can gather additional background on the characters by reading the first three installments of the “Grounded in Toronto” series and “Becoming a Domme.”

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.

Chapter One

Valentine’s Day 2018

It was a typical early Sunday morning, one of my favorite times of the week. It was quiet, and not just quiet in our house, but also quiet on my computer and phone. Even our cat was sound asleep. No person, no animal and no thing was making a demand on my time. I had already showered and was in my favorite robe and slippers. I was sitting in our breakfast nook, sipping my second cup of coffee, lazily scanning the Sunday New York Times.

After finishing my coffee I wandered around the house, occasionally picking up a displayed photograph or flipping through an unread magazine, feeling content and at the same time somewhat restless. Sometimes your soul needed solitude and this was the time to feed my soul and reflect on my life.

The calmness of the moment belied the tumultuous five years preceding it.

It was Valentine’s Day, and I had decided to assemble a photo book to chronicle my five years with Eleanor as my gift to her. Despite the travails of coming out as an adult woman, these were the happiest five years of my life. The photo book was wrapped and was accompanied with a card I’d made with a drawing of our house on the front of it. I’d always enjoyed drawing with pen and ink and our Victorian style house turned out to be a superb subject.

It was hard to believe that five short years ago I was a pharmaceutical rep on a heavy travel schedule, making a stop in Toronto on my way to London to see my new boyfriend. I ended up being grounded in Toronto. The London-bound plane had serious mechanical issues just prior to take-off that required the airline to put up all of the passengers at a nearby hotel. My seatmate in first class was Eleanor.

Eleanor was like no one I had met before. I found out she was a world renowned author of lesbian-themed fiction and that she was on her way to London to meet with her publisher. She was one of the most elegant women I’d ever seen. Her long lustrous blonde hair was put up in a chignon, and her clothes were expertly tailored and flattered her sensual curves. When we arrived at the hotel we agreed to meet in her room to share dinner. I happened to have two bottles of wine with me for my reunion with my boyfriend. Those bottles were consumed instead in Eleanor’s room, where the lively conversation soon morphed into lovemaking. That was noteworthy since that was my first sexual experience with a woman, and at age 32, it made my coming out with my parents and friends a difficult task. Eleanor was bisexual, but her preference was for women, and she turned out to be the best lover I’d ever been with.

Our five years together took us from Toronto to London to New York and then finally to San Francisco. I learned that Eleanor had an outsized personality and a large international fan base, and had never before settled down for any significant length of time with anyone, man or woman. Our London trip was marred by my sensitivity in my role as Eleanor’s new girlfriend. There was a lot of loose talk about how I was just Eleanor’s latest conquest, and in a word was a slut. Eleanor had to dissuade me of that perception, and during the healing process (which included out of control lovemaking) she instead brought us closer together.

However, it was when we first moved to San Francisco that those tighter bonds were tested. At that early point in our relationship Eleanor had not yet separated her “single” life from her status as “attached” and I had never before had a relationship with a woman. Those bonds were tested one night in a night club when Eleanor was pretty drunk and playing fast and loose with a bunch of her friends and hangers on. I was watching from afar when a tall attractive redhead came up from behind and struck up a conversation. Since I was fresh into my relationship with Eleanor, my mind for the first time was open to the possibility of sex with either a man or a woman. I eyed this voluptuous woman, who was and still is one of the most attractive women I’d ever met, with a jealousy fueled anger brought on by Eleanor’s slutty behavior. I fell under Kasey’s spell that night, lying in wait for her to ravage my body. She was still a Domme at that mecidiyeköy escort point, and used a vibrator, nipple clamps and a riding crop to show me the darker side of her personality, and mine. We didn’t have sex in the traditional sense, but we knew that evening that there was a strong sexual attraction between us. I felt compelled to confess this affair to Eleanor. Thankfully Eleanor was the bigger person, accepting my explanation of an inexcusable, but harmless, dalliance.

It was ironic, as Kasey Carter later came to be a dear friend of ours, and it was Eleanor’s idea to ask Kasey to be a bridesmaid at our wedding.

My quiet time was over. The mental rehash of the last five years made me yearn for Eleanor’s immediate presence. I went upstairs to wake her, with present in hand, but her peaceful sleep caused me to stop at the doorway to our bedroom and study her prone figure, displayed as if she was posing for a Rubens portrait. I first noted the gentle circular curve of her breast. Her head was reclined to the left, lightly snoring. Her arms were both bent with the hands under each breast, fingers overlapping one another. The nipples were erect, jutting proudly out, a rosy color hue tipped with a fleck of white. The snow white breast transitioned to the skin tanned by last year’s summer sun. The ring on her left hand was conspicuous, a handsome diamond I had purchased for her as her wedding present. Her long blonde hair was in a ponytail but bunched against the pillow. She had kicked off the covers and had one leg bent, exposing her sex. She was my wife, lover and best friend. I still couldn’t believe she was mine.

It wasn’t long before she stirred. Perhaps she could sense my presence in the doorway.

“Morning Camille,” she said in a crackly voice as she propped herself up on her arms.

“Good morning sleepyhead, and Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said in a chipper tone of voice, hiding the package behind my back.

Eleanor’s eyes widened. “Of course, today’s Valentine’s Day. I suppose I should have gotten you a present.” We played this game every year. She would pretend that she had forgotten Valentine’s Day, and then give me something amazing. I wasn’t going to fall for her act this year.

“Of course you’ve forgotten, just like all the other years where you dreamed up some fancy dinner or bought me an amazing present. What is it this year Eleanor?”

She flashed a smile at me as she slipped out of bed. “I guess you’ll have to wait till later to find out,” she uttered as she sashayed to the bathroom. I watched her nude form as she traversed the room, not ever getting tired of seeing her tall, elegant body. She flipped her hair out of its rubber band as she entered the bathroom.

I put her present on the night stand and jumped into Eleanor’s side of the warm, unmade bed, waiting for my wife to take her shower. I started to doze off when I felt her hand on my shoulder. Eleanor was standing next to me, still slightly wet from her shower with a towel around her body and another wrapped around her hair. She smelled of fresh cut flowers.

Eleanor mocked me. “Who’s the sleepyhead now?” she said as she ran her fingers through my hair. She picked up the package that was on the night stand. “And what have we here?”

“They ran out of lumps of coal so I couldn’t get you your usual present.”

My blonde haired lover tossed her head back and laughed. “Coal? Or perhaps coal in its compressed state as a diamond?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Diamonds? Isn’t the one I gave you as a wedding present enough?”

“Honey, a girl can never have too many diamonds.”

“True enough, but there’s still no diamonds in that package.” I picked up the package and thrust it into her hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

She was delighted when she opened the card. She was always thrilled when I took the time to draw something for her. She read the card and the beginnings of tears formed in her eyes. “Thank you for the lovely card and drawing.”

She then turned to the present, ripping off the paper. The photo book had one of our wedding pictures on the cover. She was suddenly silent as she flipped through the pages, turning each page and thoughtfully digesting the contents before going to the next. After a few minutes of silence she looked at me with tears now freely flowing down her face.

“It’s perfect.”

“I was hoping you’d like it.”

She gripped my hand tightly. “I love it.”

We flipped through the pages together. The first set of pages were pictures off of my phone from the first time we met in Toronto. I had taken a picture of Eleanor when she was sitting next to me in the first class cabin of our Toronto to London flight and snapshots of our sightseeing trip in Toronto after we became lovers. The second set of pages chronicled our trip to London and our ill-fated meeting with Eleanor’s publishers when I had a crisis of conscience as a newly minted lesbian. There were pictures of us in our apartment aksaray escort in New York, and then finally a series of wedding pictures and shots of our house in the Noe Valley district of San Francisco.

We were both glossy eyed as we finished our review of the photo book.

“Camille. We’ve already created so many memories. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” Eleanor reached into the drawer to the nightstand and produced a small wrapped box and a small card. She presented both to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day my sweet Camille.”

The card was lovely. On the cover were real pressed wildflowers and inside it said, “To Camille, the love of my life. Forever, Eleanor.”

I ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the small box. My breath was taken away. It was a white gold channel set ring with five diamonds in the channel.

“It’s an anniversary ring,” Eleanor explained. “I couldn’t wait until our anniversary in August so I thought today would be a good day to give it to you.”

“We were just joking about diamonds. This is an unbelievable gift.” I was breathless.

“I want you to have it. You mean everything to me.”

I slipped the ring on my finger and held it at arm’s length in front of me. It was stunning.

I looked at her with fire in my eyes. She heard my unspoken plea for her and unwrapped the towel from around her head, allowing her wet hair to cascade over her shoulders. My fingers quickly untied my robe, revealing my nakedness underneath it. My hands then grasped the towel around her body, flinging it to the floor, then reaching around behind her to pull her on top of me. Her breasts pressed against mine, the rubbing sensation creating a spark between us. She started grinding her body against mine, teasing me by putting her lips within inches of mine.

I stretched my neck so my lips could reach up to meet hers. We kissed. Our tongues danced with one another, but this kiss felt markedly different. There was a greater sense of urgency — a new found heat between us. Our kisses became frantic as our lust for one another rose to the surface. Eleanor made the first move. Her head dipped down, capturing one of my nipples in her mouth. She pulled on it hard between her lips, elongating both my nipple and my breast. She playfully bit my nipple, sending a raw current through me as a soft moan escaped my lips. She alternated breasts, teasing my nipples and caressing the silky flesh of my breasts until I could take no more.

I touched the top of her head, signaling that her presence was needed lower. Her wet hair trailed her head, dragging her damp tresses across my body as she planted kisses on my belly and then lower to my sex. My thighs parted willingly, welcoming her intimate advances. Her tongue flicked against my hardened nub to give me a taste of what was to come. The feather light touch sent an electric charge to my pleasure center and droplets of moisture appeared between my thighs. I started calling her name, grasping the bed sheets in my hands as I began the inexorable ascent to my release.

“Yes … yes … Eleanor …” I cried as the pleasure started to overwhelm my senses.

My cries caused Eleanor to redouble her oral assault on my pussy and clit, with the introduction of a wet finger teasing the crinkled border of my anus.

“Oh my God,” I screamed as her finger pushed inside my ass. I bore down so my anal ring gripped her finger tightly as an orgasm crashed through me, causing me to lose my sense of time and place. Those few moments of indescribable bliss too soon faded into a sense of inner peace as Eleanor rested her head on my thigh.

I brushed her wet ringlets of hair away from her face as we both recovered from her lovemaking to me. But the outer calm did nothing to quench my lust for Eleanor. The torch I carried for her within me was now a raging bonfire. As soon as I was able to catch my breath I extricated myself from her and used my hands to guide her on her back. Now she was mine to ravage, looking at me with soulful eyes, her nipples already erect and her sex puffy and wet with desire. Her alabaster skin already had a fine sheen of sweat and her voluptuous breasts made my tongue involuntarily slip slightly out of my mouth.

I drank in this erotic vision of beauty and sexual power. Eleanor couldn’t help who she was — a siren whose animal magnetism was irresistible to women and men. I wasn’t immune to her charms. To the contrary, they enslaved me.

I dispensed with the kissing. My unabated lust would not allow the time for it. Instead I used my hands to grasp her meaty globes, squeezing them and making her nipples protrude even further, licking and biting them as her breathing became staccato gulps of air.

“Ah … ah … ahhhhh,” she sighed as I made love to her luscious breasts.

But then I did what I loved best. I pulled her breast up by holding up the nipple between my fingers. Eleanor loved the pinching and stretching sensation as well as what I would do nişantaşı escort next, which was to run the flat of my tongue along the bottom of her breast, the most sensitive part of her breast. I licked back and forth as if I was a pendulum of a clock, feeling her shudder with each pass. Her back started to arch, telling me that her pussy was a swampy mess. My hand went to it, as if drawn to water, there to find her labia already open and slickened for my entry. I slid two fingers in, causing her to gasp. I started to slowly pump my fingers, probing for her g-spot and finding it.

Eleanor was now pleading with me to let her cum. But the moment was too short. I wanted more so I slowed my probing and licking, feeling her relax slightly. I took my two slickened fingers and lightly brushed her clit, keeping her at a simmer while I burned a mental picture in my mind of this greatest of erotic moments in my life. When I could resist no more I lowered my mouth over her sex and used my wet fingers on her asshole. As the fingers moved with more ease her moans became louder.

“Oh fuck, Camille …” she growled, while wiggling her bottom to magnify the sensations caused by my fingers.

“Can’t stop it … oh …oh …ohhhhhhhhhhhh.” Eleanor’s eyes rolled back in orgasmic bliss. I felt her hips pumping against my face as the ripples of her climax coursed through her rigid body. My face was now slickened with her copious juices, her scent enveloping the two of us. It was a perfect breaking point for our lovemaking, to now adjourn to attend to more mundane matters such as breakfast. But I ignored my usual instincts and went into our nightstand drawer, pulling out our favorite strap-on.

Eleanor could see me fumbling in the drawer as I retrieved the toy. Her expression changed from sexually satiated to sexually charged. She could sense my unfulfilled desires. She extended her hand towards me. I handed her the strap-on, locking eyes with her.

“Fuck me,” I begged in a strained voice. “Please fuck me.”

Eleanor donned the strap-on, now standing in front of me with her fake cock jutting out proudly in front of her. I dropped to my knees, caressing the phallus with my hands while slathering my saliva on it. I climbed up on the bed, kneeling on it and presenting my backside to Eleanor. She approached me, using her hands to caress my bottom. She parted the cheeks of my ass, dragging the side of her hand through my slit, rubbing the natural lubrication across my engorged labia and anus.

“Oh fuck Eleanor,” I moaned. Getting seconds on sex was a rare treat.

Presumably succumbing to her baser instincts, I felt Eleanor’s tongue, first lapping at my dripping cunt and then upwards to rim my asshole.

“You can’t get enough, can you Eleanor?” I groaned.

“Never,” was her reply, as she continued licking me.

There was a momentary pause where the only sounds in the room were our labored breathing. Then I felt the tip of the plastic invader massaging the entrance to my pussy, sliding slowly inside me, opening me up and filling me. My lover started to thrust, pushing her fake cock deeper inside me, the friction a delicious accompaniment to the feeling of fullness.

“Oh God yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard,” I implored. I was cumming, the orgasm slowly washing across me. I started to sag as the orgasm sapped me of the energy to kneel.

I felt Eleanor’s soft hands now grasping my hips, pulling me upright, as she pushed harder, her pelvis now pressed against my buttocks. Another orgasm crested, this one sharply spiking, making me feel as if my head was going to explode.

“Ohhhhhhh,” I cried out as I collapsed on the bed, Eleanor’s plastic phallus popping out of my vagina.

“That was scary good,” I thought. I’m never going to get enough of that. Ever.”

We were both exhausted, staring and thinking nothing, just experiencing the feeling of full contentment. Could it be any better than this? Could I have pictured five years ago that I would fall madly in love with a woman? The last five years had been a mad swirl of activity — fun, work, fucking, fighting and just plain loving. I tilted my head so I could see Eleanor, still with a glazed look in her eyes. The love of my life.

Chapter Two

Valentine’s Day 2019

Of course every tale has a bump but mine was a whopper. It was Valentine’s Day, and for some reason Eleanor was insistent that Kasey attend our annual dinner. We’d always spent Valentine’s Day with just each other so for Eleanor to insert a third wheel, even a good friend such as Kasey, was puzzling. I had the chance to visit with Kasey after Eleanor issued the invitation for dinner. Kasey also had no idea why Eleanor was so insistent, but having just broken up with Janice a few months prior her calendar was open.

Kasey showed up on time, all dressed up for the party. She always looked like the model in our group, a true redhead with steely blue eyes, legs a mile long and breasts that were large and shapely. She had on a long dress, slit on the side to show her attractive legs, with a deep V cut so we could see her impressive cleavage. Since Kasey was a bridesmaid in our wedding and a frequent dinner guest, her presence wasn’t unwelcome, just unprecedented.

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