A Valentine as yet Unsent

 Those of you familiar with my weekly bletherings will know how I bewail the lack of writing time left me for writing once I’m done with work. (Well I’ve got to socialize too, you know. An eroticist needs inspiration!) My Tuesday teasers allow me an outlet for all the stories which never get written, but some ideas are a bit too complex to capture in two hundred words. Like a certain story with a Valentine’s theme which has been with me for a couple years, but which I never get the chance to put in print. I’m going to summarize the plot here, as so far it only exists in my head. Then some unscrupulous bastard can nick my idea and write it themselves. Makes all kinds of sense, no?

Oh, it may be slightly rambling as there are various plot kinks (not those kind of kinks, oh dirty-minded reader) which need ironing out. It begins dark and dangerous, but ends up hot and rather sweet-natured, so stay with it. Here goes.

A young guy in prison overalls is crashing through undergrowth, head bleeding, heart pumping. He has memory flashes of a coach crash—all rending metal and fire. Then of him and another burly criminal linked together, making it cross-country until the other guy severs their ties (literally). Now he’s on his own and knows he’s being pursued by the authorities. So when he stumbles on an apparently empty lakeside house he stumbles there for protection.

A young woman has retreated to her family’s lakeside cabin, having dumped her boyfriend for cheating some weeks before Valentine’s Day. Now that the Day has arrived she needs alone time, away from all happy dating couples. Her solitude is interrupted however by noises out back and when she goes to investigate she comes face to face with the young delirious convict; in panic he grabs and restrains her with whatever he finds nearby. He ends up tying her up and gagging her in the house. So far so scary.

The point of view flashes back and forth between them. She’s terrified and assumes he’s a dangerous psychopath. He, it becomes clearer, is a guy caught up in circumstances beyond his control—a reluctant and concussed jail-breaker who’d been serving his time as quietly as he could until the coach on which he was being transported to some outside work project (or something) went careering off the road and the other prisoners made a bid for freedom. Now he finds himself on the run and having kidnapped someone who’s understandably scared shitless of him. He ungags her eventually and attempts to talk her calm as he grabs food and tries to focus on his options. She responds, at first through an instinct of self-preservation, then gradually perceiving, though still frightened, that he’s not the crazed monster she initially feared. Something of an understanding (as much as is possible when one party is trussed up and vulnerable) dawns between them.

Then he views a TV news report about the mass breakout of convicts and his own picture on the screen and breaks down completely. He was originally convicted for his part in a robbery gone wrong, having got involved in the scheme to prevent the family house being repossessed, his dad having been absent from the family home since he was a boy. Now as a jail breaker and kidnapper he feels all out of options. He has no way of making it to safety and even if he did make it across the distant border would face life as an outlaw with no way of helping his family again. Looking at the girl again he can’t believe what he’s done and is emotionally in pieces. Having recovered sufficiently, he unties her and tells her what the hell—call in the police. (See why I can’t just scribble off this story in a few days? To make this shit convincing would take serious time!!!)

She goes to make the call but has been moved enough by what she’s witnessed to hold off for a while. She’ll tell them that she found him unconscious but that when he came to, he told her to contact the police. Plus she’ll miss out the bit about the kidnapping. Before phoning she’ll tend to his injured head, prepare him something to eat and let him shower. Her decision is probably not uninfluenced by the fact that he’s a good-looking boy with a worked-out prison yard physique. Plus there’s that vulnerable-tough-guy factor and her realization that beneath all his misfortune is a decent human being. Did I mention that in appearance she’s a bosomy blonde cheerleading archetype with no illusions as to how she appeals to certain male fantasies?

It should be no surprise to the reader therefore when she joins him in the shower. The erotic heart of the story would be his reaction to finding himself briefly liberated from prison and being soaped down by a hot girl, and hers to having the rotten ex-boyfriend she’d once thought perfect replaced on Valentine’s Day by a muscular shaven-headed convict-on-the-run. There’s much hotness involving passionate slippery kissing under the jets, soapy tit-fucking and hard shafting against the tiled wall. Her fear all transformed via sympathy to rampant excitement, she can’t resist teasing the fuck out of him before making him explode—twice. He fucks with passion and gratitude, feasting on her however little he feels he deserves it. In response to her lust he becomes more strident, less controlled, but always retaining a thankful tenderness however hard he fucks. By the time they’re both done, he is amazed by her and she in a way by him. In short, and pardon me for resorting to visual shorthand, there’s a whole lot of this:

The authorities are duly called and she plays a blinder in explaining the alternative version of what happened. I’m not yet sure what words pass between them as they wait, but there’s a tender sadness between in the air. She has to play another good game when questioned and then watches as he is taken away. The focus stays with her confused thoughts as she views his departure in the police van. Not the Valentine’s Day she would ever have planned, but one on which something unique transpired between herself and a desperate stranger.

A possible coda to the story takes place in prison when she visits him, but about that I’m not yet sure. Whether the Valentine encounter should be a one-off or lead to a possible something more I have yet to decide.

There it is—a Valentine’s gift which I have yet to deliver. I’d be glad of any thoughts…