Snowballs For Valentines Valentine

Snowballs for Valentine's Valentines Valentines'

This is an older story from 1-21-2017.

2,984 words

13-minute read

Author's Note: If, for some reason, you feel offended by sexual stories, then I don't know why you have opened this one. Maybe to be offended, so you can complain about how awful it is that somebody writes stuff like this. If that's the case, my advice is to seek professional help. You need it. The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults.

This paragraph is stolen.

This author, DaleJaneHenparty, formerly used the name ExperiencedStoryteller on Literotica.

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Valentine's, Valentines, and Valentines' would be appropriate spellings for couples who had been in love, like Don and Jane. They had known each other longer than 30 years. They have been sleeping together for 30 years, with ups and downs along the way. They were both in their late 40s when they met.

They celebrated 20 years of marriage about 10 years ago. They were an old-fashioned heterosexual couple, raised in different states by very different parents, which meant that they did not have similar family, social, or cultural backgrounds.

Don and ExperiencedStoryteller had just met because Don had asked, "Sir, can you spare a minute to stop and visit?"

The author sat, and they visited. Don told ExperiencedStoryteller that he had about two weeks to live, and since he didn't want their kids to know this story, he wanted to tell ExperiencedStoryteller because sex was so important to both Jane and him. It seems Don had absolutely nothing left except this single memory of the 'Love of His Life.' He was easily able to get an agreement with me to write out his story and then publish it on the internet for him.

This story was orally related to the author as non-fiction. The story is as it was told to ExperiencedStoryteller by Don, the man in the story. These are his words. The author listened to this story at the bedside of this US Navy Vietnam Veteran at the VA  Hospital when the author was visiting the residential wards one day, as he often did now that he was retired. Believable? Absolutely, the author realized that these two were too straight for a tale.

This is MF, Valentines, first time, fetish, romance, non-fiction, stroke story, as related from the man's death bed.

~~~~~~~~~

Jane would have been 82, and Don was 84 at the time of this story being related about their personal history on Valentine's Day or Valentines' Day. That was more than 20 years earlier.

Don was a former Alaskan with a fierce independent streak. Often, he was perceived as a social recluse and an introvert when left to his own. He and Jane made a great pair, as he was NOT a micro-manager, was a secondary breadwinner for much of his kid's young lives, and became a writer, potter, and acrylic artist when he finally retired from a long and varied life of work. He was always very accommodating.

Jane was a micromanager, a controller, and a former long-time single Mom. She was a really convincing salesperson during a long and varied as well as checkered career. Jane loved the movies and was a cook and social hostess with incredible talents. When asked to describe her to ExperiencedStoryteller that first day, Don wept as he said, "The angels, she looked like the angels." When pushed, he admitted that she was actually fleshy, soft, shapely, curvy, and beautiful. She had soft, full hair of whatever color was black. She had typical dimensions of a 60-pound-over-weight, 5 foot 3 inches 'Big Beautiful Woman.'

Later, when ExperiencedStoryteller pushed Don to say anything more or to change anything, or edit something out before they quit, Don said,  "I told you that she looked like an angel. She truly did. What I didn't ever tell our children is that she had the sex drive of a sailor and a whore combined. I loved that piece of her life. Everyone can find a way to stay together with a 'snowball.' You will either love it or never do it again."

Don said he realized when he first spent time with her that what constituted the center of Jane was her lustiness, her insistence on the truth, and enjoying all of her life's pleasures.  He said that when he met her, she told him she knew about sex, had enjoyed it, but regarded it skeptically. She was about 45-50 when Don met her. He soon realized that she had never been loved with passion and caring.

His heart disease resulted in his developing Erectile Dysfunction in their last years. Along with that, he developed a broken sleep schedule. From then on, he slept 4-5 hours a night.

He would get up early and write. He was a potter, and he painted. He used the extra hours of waking time he had every day. He said that they used to awaken in the middle of the night most nights and have sex of many kinds and varieties, so his sleep issues changed their sexual frequency gradually until his ED stopped them.

Then, he could no longer always walk around with a hard-on for her. He said he used to have sex with her 3-6 times each day for over fifteen years. There was no doubt that she would have liked to have sex with him even more than that.

They then had a big change in their lives, and the frequency took a huge hit. He had ED. Next, he was placed on a heart medication that stopped his life from having another hard-on. He smiled and related that they then did a lot of oral sex, snowballing, and not just each traditional February to recommit to each other on Valentine's Day. She figured out how to massage his prostate, so she was able to enjoy all of his cum, because she applied the pressure it took to cause his cum to flow. She sucked and milked him all at once frequently.

Theirs was a romance a long time in fruition. With the dating world of today this budding relationship would have been crushed before it ever got started. They first met and saw each other professionally and casually a lot in their similar selling jobs. They became friends. They would occasionally take time together for an hour or two and just 'do' stuff like walk or shop.

As they became closer friends, on the spur of the moment one night right from work, they went out to dinner and then to a bar for a drink.

Don smiled as he told ExperiencedStoryteller that they wound up that night with him having purchased a rose for her from a peddler causing her to become all gushy when he did. That warmed his heart.

She said she was going to have just one drink. She ordered a Long Island Ice Tea. He ordered a triple Yukon Jack on the rocks. They visited, danced, and drank their drinks. They relaxed and then were drunk. The waitress asked him if they wanted to cash out and he just smiled, winked, then ordered another round without asking Jane.

Jane didn't hesitate and drank quickly and deeply of the second drink. As they sat together in the booth just after their last few dances, she slid her hand into the space between his legs and drug her fingers up his silk slacks all the way to his cock. She maneuvered her hand onto his stiffening muscle and said, "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

He reached down and unzipped his slacks and moved her hand into his zipper opening. She was easily able to feel him but wouldn't slip under the table to see him, and he didn't want to stand.

He said, "My place or yours?"

She said, "Follow me and park behind my car. We'll go in through the back."

He was completely toasted and very aroused. He followed her. They noisily went inside. She led him to her bedroom.

She said, as she stepped into the en suite, "I'll be right back." She disappeared. He sat on the bed, unsure of what her idea was exactly. Not wanting to make an embarrassing assumption, he just sat on the foot of her bed. She came out of the en suite with her dress over her arm under a pair of folded white granny panties.

She was wearing a red nightgown that was not long enough to cover the bottom of her ass cheeks. He saw it all as she turned to place her clothes on a valet stand. She stretched to reach the stand, the gown rose more, and then he could see her stomach beneath the hem as it seemed like an apron across her pubic area.

Don quickly rose as Jane wrapped him in a soul-warming hug, smoothed her mouth onto his, slipped his lips apart, and caressed his tongue while drawing all of his saliva into her mouth.

Don related to ExperiencedStoryteller, almost as an aside, a recalled idea, "That kiss was the most erotic sensation I've ever had."

She, all of this time, had been undoing his slacks and belt as she was kissing him. She followed his pants to the floor to remove his shoes, socks, and pants. He stood there in his starched white shirt. His cock was not visible under his shirt tails, but its presence was obvious by the bulge and quick-growing wet spot.

Before she could engage his cock, Don reached down and helped her to her feet and hugged her tightly against his chest and protruding cock. He kissed her eagerly but tenderly like she had kissed him. She swooned backward onto the bed. He watched and waited for her to get reoriented (the alcohol). He took advantage of the fact that her nightgown had fluttered and left her torso fully exposed when she'd swooned.

He searched her body up and down very slowly, from her nipples to her toes. He thought her big belly was a turn-on.

When he reached out to touch her, she reminded and questioned, "Now, I have shown you mine?"

He took the hint and removed the rest of his clothes and jewelry and grasped his very firm cock, and presented it to her, pirouetting around in a slow tight spin. He had grasped it at the base, and there was still about 4 inches of his cock protruding forward and upward from his fisted hand.

He said, "There he is, almost ready to meet you."

She asked, "Almost?"

He said, "Watch! Don't look away, now."

As he said that, he had very slowly and with a very tight grip encircled and tightly strangled his cock. He moved his hand from the base up toward the head. As he did, the precum poured copiously from his slit and formed a bubble and a slippery clear globule on a slimy silvery string that hung from the edge of the crown on the bottom of his cock. She quickly reached out with her fingers and raked up the strings along his cock, stealing the precum and placing them in her mouth.

"He's ready now," He said.

He kneeled between her legs to push her legs back. He grabbed her behind her knees and smoothly rocked her backward onto her back. He ended up standing at the foot of the bed. She was startled and disoriented. The alcohol again?

While she got reoriented, he noticed that her large stomach was keeping her legs from bending back to her shoulders, so he lowered her bare feet back down to the floor. One at a time he lifted them out and around her belly. Holding her leg out to the side, nearly on the bed up beside her shoulder, he reached and did the same for her other leg, pushing both of her knees to the bed outside of her shoulders.  Now he could see her face and her huge breasts. They were visible just over her rounded, soft, wobbly stomach and stomach apron flap, which was scrunched out, protruding over her big, heavy thighs. Her stomach apron flap was hanging forward over her mound so that her mound wasn't visible except from below.

He was presented with a wide, flat flap, or apron, below her huge stomach hanging over her vagina's engorged labia. Her cunt was now spread open but completely blocked from view by her inner labia protruding from between her outer labia.

Everything in and around that area was swollen and red in about 13,000 shades, from her clitoral hood, which was light bright pink, to her asshole, which was brownish-red. Her clitoris was stiffly pushed forward beyond her bright red clitoral hood. It appeared stiff and swollen. All of the wet pubic hair screened a clear view of her vagina. She was hairy from just below her naval all the way to her ass. Her hair was tinged with a sprinkling of gray, matted and dense, with her oozing vagina seeping heavily.

He dove in. First, he went to her apron of stomach. It was so soft and pliable and easily sucked and licked. He noticed the effect on his heart rate and had to move on, or he would cum. He next moved down to her butt because it was so naughty. He rimmed her, kissed her, and licked her as he pushed the pad of a thumb against her puckered opening until she started to shiver. He removed the thumb pressure when he moved his tongue down her vaginal swelling to the front of her clitoris. He played with the densest, wet patch of pubic hair he had ever seen. Her hair matched her head.

He then slithered his tongue and lips back toward her ass, stopping out of the way to loop his tongue around her clitoris, then back to rimming and trying to soften up her resistance to him getting inside her ass with his cock. She was softening, but it was probably the alcohol talking, he thought.

He asked her if he needed a condom.

She told him, "Only if you put it in my ass."

He interpreted that as permission of a sort, so he asked for one, and she said she didn't have any. He said, "Okay, that makes this less involved since I don't have one either."

He proceeded to push her legs farther backward, rolling her up onto her upper back. That, of course, rotated her ass and vagina upward toward him, standing at the foot of the bed. He softly held her legs, scooted her toward the foot of the bed so that her ass was just over the edge of the mattress. He bent over slightly, and into her vaginal canal, he could now clearly see through her swollen labia, which were folded open with her legs so widely spread.

He slid first his tongue along her open vagina, then as he slid his chin into her butt and his nose against her clitoris, she fondly uttered, "Ohhh...umm."

She was soaked with urine, slime, saliva, sweat, and perfume. And, she was a cunt-vagina-pussy, willing to be any, but hopefully, all of them, to get it eaten. She was ready and wanted to be eaten. She knew she was a delight to smell, suck, kiss, and lick.  Neither of them worried about the soaked bedspread. They just fell into each other's arms as his cock entered her. He stood looking down at where they were connected. He saw her fat cunt wrapped around his cock where she fucked him.

He said that she was so exposed in this well-lit room that he marveled at her openness and confidence. He was close, but he was drunk too, so he was sure of himself and continued to slowly push more and more cock into her until he was all the way in.

He suddenly hesitated. He waited very still. Quickly, she seemed to have a mission of her own as she slid away, turned around quickly, and took him in her mouth.

He exploded in her mouth. She seemed to be happy and was moaning when he had come all he could. She slid her mouth off of him and kissed him. She opened her mouth and allowed his come to slide and slime in and out of her mouth as they kissed. He swished and swirled it all around both their mouths, then he swallowed about half and gave it back to her to swallow while continuing the kiss.

There was something in sharing so intimately and trustingly. They had, independently, through the years, realized that sexual trust was the foundation of their absolute shared trust. That act of snowballing as their first sex was the base of their love forever.

For Valentine's Day she always asked for the same Valentine's snowball. They replayed that every year for about 30 years.

He was always sure what to get her for Valentine's Day.

Don had a tendency to overthink things and had decided that it was necessary to exchange Valentines on Valentines Day. He usually made her a card and, most often, a gift. He always sent her a red heart satin valentine card, a pair of red panties, and a box of chocolates. He always said in his handwritten note inside the card: "Will you go snowballing with me tonight?" He added another love note inserted in the folded card. He had jacked off into the note early on and discovered ants in the card as he was about to give it to her. He only did that once.

So, I guess it is both Valentine's Day and Valentines' Day.

FYI: Don lived long enough to see a printed version of the story, which he happily edited before he died.

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