Phaleg's Valentine's Day Games

Wishing you a happy visit from an overzealous cupid this Valentine's Day. Remember that the heart that we draw is just the shape of a bum ;)

*~*~*~*

A fact commonly known amongst humans is that Valentine's Day is a real bonanza for cupids. However, what they, the humans, are less aware of is that cupids are far from the adorable childlike winged creatures they thought them to be. So let's set the record straight:

Cupids are mischievous little imps. They lack the maturity of grown angels and display much of the temperament typically ascribed to the dwellers of Devil's realm. They aren't evil as such - but in their competitive games of who shot through the heart more they could easily be tempted to misbehave. Maybe if there weren't so many of the blasted creatures, the angels would've had an easier time keeping them in check. But since they multiply like rabbits, even the angels didn't blame each other when one chose to simply leave the creatures be instead of attempting to discipline them.

Phaleg had been particularly good at escaping such attempts. Amongst other cupids he was known as a bit of a gutter baby, raised more by the urchins behind trash cans and the wildlife in urban parks than any celestial creature. Some joked that he was the most street cupid there ever was. Whether that was true or not, Phaleg had certainly tried to live up to his reputation. And strongly believed that it was his street smarts that made him one of the best shots amongst them all.

To his credit, he was also one of the most worldly cupids. Whilst they typically stuck to one area, at most expanding to neighbouring cities, since their little wings struggled to carry chubby bodies much further, he travelled around and perfected his techniques. It is this way that he realised that putting a couple together on Valentine's Day was easier in the Southern Hemisphere, where the warm weather aided his goal, although making it happen in the Northern one was thus so much more satisfying of an accomplishment. He was no stranger to substances that helped with thrusting a couple onto one another's arms, finding the right spots outside night clubs and festival tents. And if he was close enough to someone using one of those modern inventions, The Apps, then he made sure to glance over the people's shoulders and aid them as best he could. There was no shame in making his own work easier. The humans were already doing so much to mate, they only needed a little push.

Because that is one more fact that humans didn't get quite right about cupids. Their arrows don't carry love - they are laced with lust. Love is too stable and boring to mischievous cupids, not to mention that it requires patience which they lacked. Lust, on the other hand, is quick, easy, addictive. Cupids get high off its fumes and thus continually seek to spread more of it around.

In Phaleg's case, he also enjoyed a challenge. Quite often he treated his games as a speedrun, trying to beat his personal best of people coupled in one day. The kind of drunken feelings such a spree generates fuels him weeks on end.

This year he wanted to see how quickly he could get a pair started. One of the other cupids had stolen a stopwatch from some coach, whom they'd distracted with an attractive new substitute teacher, and they agreed to time Phaleg from drawing his bow to the start of mating. Let the Valentine's Day games begin!

First he needed to know his usual time. The back end of the library on a local university campus was always a good shout. No-one had taken a book out of the Victorian law section in literal decades, but the space nearby was always filled with students looking for someone to share a good time with.

Phaleg spotted the lad in loose sportswear leaning on a bookshelf almost instantly, since his gaze travelled around so much like his own. He'd picked out a regular looking bloke: standard issue jeans, standard issue graphic tee, standard issue sneakers... The way he pretended to look at the shelves betrayed nervousness that only someone new to the legend of this library corner could exhibit. They'd be perfect!

The cupid's arrow aimed straight for the head, so that the boy would turn in the right direction with the impact; not that humans ever felt it, experiencing it as a mere hunch. The pair locked eyes on one another, arousal enlarging their pupils. The ordinary boy swallowed hard, hand tensing on the spine of a book he didn't even see the title of. Measuring looks were exchanged as they searched for signs of mutual attraction. But then the sporty lad slowly took his hands out of the pocket of his hoodie and pointed down with his chin with a meaningful look. Relief relaxed the other one's shoulders. There were smirks on both of their faces when they ducked towards the corner shelf, jeans boy dropping to his knees before they'd even got a good look at one another.

Phaleg closed his eyes, savouring the rush of well awoken lust, at the same time as the sporty lad closed his at the feel of lips around his cock.

"Two minutes eleven seconds."

Phaleg nodded. The real challenge began now.

There were already some young couples in a nearby park, taking a romantic stroll instead of spending money on dinners. This far North the chill was a contender, but Phaleg was confident as he picked his target: a woman in a maxi dress with a fluffy jacket over it and a man dressed entirely in black save for a purple beanie. The arrows hit true, first him, then her, in rapid succession.

"Fuck, I really can't wait to get home," the man moaned and his partner's breathing sped up.

"We're not that far, we can..."

"Let's do it here."

"Here?!" She looked around with half outrage and half arousal at the indecency of the suggestion.

"We can make it quick."

A wink was all the guarantee of trust that he offered. Without waiting for her response, he pulled them towards the bushes, somehow not entirely bare despite the February weather. The woman hissed when cold air grazed her naked arse, but bent lower, trying to hide as much as to give him better access. Their sex was quick, not even a minute, and they both looked embarrassed when it was over.

"Two minutes eight seconds."

An improvement - but not good enough. Probably would've worked better had they picked a warmer country and the couple didn't have so many layers on.

The same thing happened in a restaurant, where a couple enjoying their Valentine's Day dinner had to go to the bathroom to act on the cupid's arrow. In hindsight, Phaleg should've picked one sitting closer to that corridor, but no couple in that vicinity had that aura of urgency about them that helped speed the process along.

So the cupids tried at homes next. Surely if the pair were already somewhere private, they'd get to it quicker, right? Those two housemates certainly looked as if they were dancing around each other for far too long and could use a helping hand. Listening in on their conversation, Phaleg waited for the perfect moment to strike. On any other day he would've sent his arrows towards them now, but this challenge relied on timing.

"You know, we don't have to be miserable just because we don't have any dates." The young man, around mid-20s, clearly fresh out of uni and still finding out his post-humanities career, tried to sound cheerful. It was forced, but it worked and got the woman, an almost carbon copy of him, in the spirit.

"Yeah, we can have a good time tonight! At least the rest of our housemates won't ruin it with all their lovey-dovey bullshit."

Their high-five quickly turned to confused wrinkles on their foreheads.

"Sooo what do we do?" The woman asked, shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie; even her ponytail of blonde hair with pastel streaks tilted in question at her housemate.

Phaleg released an arrow towards her first, then immediately shot one at the boy, managing to time it just as he was saying:

"Why don't we...?" He blinked, a new sparkle lighting his brown eyes before he took a tentative step closer to her, one hand leaning on the kitchen counter. "Why don't we fuck?"

The cupids smiled; people who didn't mince their words always pleased them.

Yet, despite obvious arousal, the woman hesitated, the palm of her hand on the man's chest.

"Isn't that going to make things weird though?"

"It's a free pass." The way he leaned towards her left only centimetres between their lips. "It won't be weird unless we make it weird. Come on..." he added when she still hesitated, even as her entire body was now pressed to his and definitely feeling his erection. His mouth moved to her ear. "Why don't we show these coupled-up losers how to

really

have fun on Valentine's Day?"

She yielded, their kiss sloppy and wet, their hands grabbing at each other's bits over the clothing.

"Two minutes exactly."

Not good enough.

"I can do better," Phaleg's mouth was a line of determination.

For some time it had all been going well. They went from house to house and Phaleg shaved seconds off his time with each couple. One minute fifty three, one forty seven, one thirty five, one twenty, his time was improving with each arrow. Whether these people were already together or only danced around the subject, and in one case even total strangers who just happened to be in the same house, they all succumbed to the desires awoken by the lust-laced arrows. Their moans and glazed gazes fueled them on, fueled Phaleg to push himself harder and harder.

Until he plateaued.

The timer was unyielding in displaying one minute eight seconds for five times in a row, no matter what he did. Shooting faster, targeting a specific body part, listening to conversations, nothing made that number bulge any lower on the screen.

"Admit it, this is as quick as you can make it," the other cupid argued with a tired sigh.

"No," Phaleg ground through gritted teeth. "I will get below one minute, even if it's the last thing I do!"

It was getting late and there hadn't been any improvement for another handful of times. If anything, Phaleg's time was getting worse. But he pressed on until the late hour finally showed a sign of turning in his favour. There was one last thing that he could try. If that failed, he promised his helper that they would try no more.

From the outside the music was reduced to dull, rhythmic thudding. A queue began forming at the door, comprised mainly of small groups of young people, all determined either to forget their uncoupled status on the holiday of couples or to find someone to remedy that state with. The air was buzzing with latent sexual energy and the two cupids, already pleasantly high off their spree, felt this fresh buzz reinvigorate them.

Inside the sounds were deafening; this was no place for idle chatter or smooth lines. And judging by the sweat on the barmen's foreheads as the two of them tried to manage the non-stop flow of orders, it was going to be a great night for Phaleg.

He moved them to one of the upper floors. The first floor of a club was always too much of a corridor for people passing through. The crowd may have enabled someone to sneak in some inappropriate behaviour, but it was too packed to do anything about it. Meanwhile, the upper floors had a better balance of being busy without being stuffed to the brim. Some of the club goers there have been at the venue for hours, having partied hard at each level, interchangeably getting intoxicated and dancing all of the substances out of their system.

It was clear that he was looking for them the moment that Phaleg laid eyes on them. The dancing pair was drenched in sweat: a young man in baggy jeans and a tank top pressing himself to the back of a dark skinned woman in a neon mesh top with a mini skirt. Whether they arrived at the club together or not, they were together now, their moves deliberate in the body parts that were touching and how. The palms of his hands repeatedly flicked the tiny skirt up, moulded to the curve of the woman's arse whenever it wasn't grinding against his crotch.

This sort of display didn't need a cupid's help, only time. But he was going to offer it anyway, on the off chance that they weren't actually going to take the dance any further. One expertly released shot cut the heavy air of the club, striking them both at the same time as his palm and her arse made contact again.

But even Phaleg was surprised at how quickly it worked.

Without breaking rhythm, the woman turned to face her dance partner. The hand she placed on his chest travelled down, as did the rest of her swaying body, until she was squatting on her heels, knees spread, eyeing the bulging crotch in front of her with hunger. She gave him only two teasing brushes over the jeans before dropping to her knees fully and unzipping the fly. His eyes closed, not even the slightest bit surprised when she took his cock into her mouth, hands already in her hair. The people dancing around them didn't even flinch.

"That's..." The cupid stumbled in shock, though collected himself quickly. "That's nine seconds."

Nine seconds. It must've been a record. No,

the

record! Humans would've put it in their books had they known. Phaleg did a backflip in the air, ready to shout his victory from the rooftops.

His mouth had barely opened when so had the woman's as she stood up, the cock abandoned. This was unusual. Phaleg followed her movements, eyes locked on her lips as she said something to the man. Over the years cupids mastered the art of lip reading; it frequently eased the work of helping courtship advance. The woman was clearly telling him to look as if they were still dancing while he fucked her from behind. Didn't even wait for his response either, simply turned around, moving her underwear aside as she pushed her behind into his crotch, searching for the cock she just wetted with her mouth.

If their dancing was sexual before, their sex looked far more like dancing should. Slow and methodical, careful not to slip out, but also keeping to the now thankfully slower beat. To anyone around them they were simply indecently engrossed in each other, the mini skirt and the loose hem of his tank top doing much of the covering up.

Those who looked more carefully definitely saw the truth on both of their faces, mouths open and eyes tightly shut in pleasure. The dancing woman didn't see her friend, a lithe goddess in a gold dress and strappy heels whose mahogany skin glistened with sweat. And all her friend needed was one look.

She didn't even get a chance to say anything because her own partner, a muscular Black man in a wax print shirt, snaked an arm around her waist, his hand sliding down her belly and swayed them both. He whispered something in her ear and without either cupid interfering, the two joined their friends as the man fingered his girlfriend right in front of the other couple.

That was the domino block that pushed on the rest. One couple after another, they noticed the dancing disguised as sex, then proceeded to join. Soon enough they dropped the pretences of dancing and openly had sex with one another. A whole corner of the dance floor turned into an orgy, dicks sucked, clits stroked, hips thrusting, and groans disappearing under the never-ending thunder beats that drummed the rhythm of their carnal pleasures.

"You started an avalanche," said the other cupid, his wings a little unsteady from the sexual energy.

"I did," Phaleg whispered. He savoured the view and lapped up every moan that he could catch, swimming in them like in a pool of the finest ambrosia.

One arrow. All it took was one arrow and he unleashed this beautiful orgy that would keep him sated for months. And in record time too! The other cupids will write songs about him.

He was tempted to unleash more arrows on the clubbers who were still dancing, unaware of the depravities taking place mere steps away, but he decided not to. That would've been cheating. The beauty of this one was that it happened with only one intervention from him.

So the two cupids let this orgy happen. They couldn't always help themselves and moaned along with the people sucking, stroking, thrusting, and spreading fluids all over their already sweaty bodies. In one corner a beautiful woman with the longest legs and a shock of curls was getting eaten out by someone with a rainbow buzzcut, whilst two more people sucked on each little titty. Next to them, a pair of men jerked each other off, testing who would last longer and edging themselves mercilessly. Someone closer to a wall was keeping a woman suspended upside down, her knees hooked over their shoulders as they lapped at her pussy, whilst she was sucking another man's cock upside down.

Wherever Phaleg cast his eyes, he found a new picture of delicious depravity that he helped unleash. And his little chubby body filled with euphoria at the buffet that he got to feast off. He could die happy now, knowing that he'd have sated himself off the best that there ever could be. Not that it was that easy to kill a cupid...

The last thing he remembered was flying by a circle of men, all too eager to fulfil their bukkake fantasy as a curvy redhead knelt in the middle with a grin, not knowing where to even look, then closing her eyes as the first of the hot jizz landed on her cheek. Their orgasmic finish was the cherry on top for Phaleg, who seemed to have passed out with overindulgence in that moment for when he came back to it, the club was empty and not so dark anymore. His companion lay asleep on the bar counter, one arm hanging off the edge, wings limply covering his back in a makeshift blanket.

It was at that moment that Phaleg swore to himself to follow a new path. There was no need to chase the glory of being the fastest or the one with the most hits. Cupids did eventually grow into angels, but they did not necessarily have to become more mature. With a sated smile, Phaleg vowed to work his little wings to the bone to one day become the guardian angel of orgies.