Fuck Valentine's Day (2 page)

I
woke up an hour late and blew a big test in biology because I spent
all night masturbating to Quinn Prentis and wearing fuzzy, plastic
handcuffs that I bought at the store. I kind of felt stupid
handcuffing one of my wrists to the headboard, but I did it anyway
and had the best orgasm
ever.

“
Thank
you, sir,” I said as I unhooked myself and shook out my sore
arm. I threw on a pair of white and blue striped pajamas and waddled
down to the kitchen, just a tad sore down there from my new dildo.
It was called the
Randy,
and it was my special friend on
nights when I didn't have a warm body next to mine (that's every
night).

My
friend/roommate, Genevieve Pares, was busy necking with her fuck
buddy, Lance, on my couch. They kind of did other things on my
couch, so I was always covering it with towels and such to catch
juices,
and inevitably all my other friends would ask, “Why
the fuck do you have seven towels covering up your couch?” I
never quite knew how to answer that question.

“
Hey
guys,” I said. They ignored me which was okay because they
sort of did this often. I kind of liked to think of them as people I
could confide in. You know, the really good couple you could tell
everything to because they're both your friends? Well, except for
the fact that they never heard what I had to say. Oh, and they
weren't a couple. That's okay, I made do. I just told new
acquaintances that my boyfriend's name was Randy and my best friends
were Genevieve and Lance and nobody asked otherwise. “I was
thinking of going on a date with this guy, Quinn Prentis, because
he's like … ” I pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge
and dropped it when Genevieve moaned like a wild animal. White
liquid shot out everywhere, making me even more depressed for the
upcoming holiday.
That's the only white liquid that I'm going to
see spraying across my kitchen.

“
Lance!
Lance! Lance!”

“
Anyway,”
I continued as I grabbed a rag and started wiping up the floor.
“Quinn is seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen, and I
didn't think I had a chance with him, but … ”

“
Genevieve,
ride me, baby!”

“
Oh
yeah, you know it!”

“
He
actually seems interested in me.” I threw the rag in the sink
and picked up the empty milk jug, tossing it into the garbage can
next to the counter as the couch springs started to creak. “I
just don't know … I kind of wanted to keep my V for someone
special.” I sighed and traded my cereal bowl for a plate.
Guess it was toaster pastry time again.

I
threw a couple of the fatty, flaky rectangles in and held up a hand
to shield my eyes from my roommate as I made my way to the front door
and checked the mail. I was expecting a Valentine's card from my mom
(shut up, okay, I know that's fucking lame) with some money it and
hadn't gotten the chance to look yesterday. Lo and behold, there
were two pink envelopes in the mail that day.

“
Hot
damn,” I said as I carried them both inside past the fuck
buddies and sat down at the breakfast bar. One of the envelopes had
a stamp on one corner and my mom's return address on the other. The
second envelope was blank except for my name.

Andrea
Annette Fisher.

“
Huh,”
I said as I slid my thumb under the pink paper and opened the
envelope. The first thing that came out was a Valentine's Day card
with a sexy man on the front. He had abs like the Grand Canyon, all
mountains and valleys, and a
huge
bulge in his red and white
underwear.
Yummy.

Bitch,
please! You thought Cupid was a freaking baby? Check out this bow
and arrow.

I
laughed as I reached over the counter and grabbed at my toaster
pastries. Something slipped from inside the card and fell to the
floor, picture side down. I set my plate down in front of me and
looked at the message inside. It was blank except for an address
written in neat, tiny letters, all caps. I didn't recognize the
place, so I set it aside and climbed off the stool.

“
Fuck
me hard, Lance! Now! Oh yeah, right there!”

“
What
the hell is this … ” My voice trailed off as I grabbed
the picture and flipped it over. “Holy cock!” I yelped
as I came face to face with said object. There was a penis on the
picture, a real, live penis with wrinkles and everything. It was as
big as my
Randy,
long and wide, circumcised
perfection.
“Genevieve, seriously, come here and look at this.”

I
turned the picture around and around trying to find some sort of
identifying information. There was none. Except for the address in
the card. I sat back on the stool and examined the photo for
realism.
Was this thing Photoshopped?
There
was a man's hand wrapped around the base of the cock and little
droplets of moisture from a shower or lube or something. I, myself,
was getting wet just looking at the damn thing. That was even
before
I noticed the little silver ring through the skin near the head of
Mystery Man's cock. It was a Prince Albert.

“
I'm
coming,” Genevieve started shouting behind me, and I took that
as my cue to grab my quickie breakfast, my cards, and my penis pic
and get the hell out of there.

I
found Quinn Prentis hitting on some girls near the door to our lit
class.

The
act infuriated me to no end.
Told you to avoid this prick,
my
rational mind said as she stuck her tongue out at me. I had the
picture clutched in my hand and marched right up to the biggest bad
boy on campus.

“
Think
you're such a stud?” I said, and the two girls he was flirting
with moved away like I was poisoned. I mean, come on, I wasn't that
scary was I? Five foot nine, thin as a rail, brown hair, brown eyes,
I was just your average girl. Maybe they saw something in my face
that day that told them to back the fuck off, maybe it was
instinctual, some old forgotten woman vs. woman thing? I have no
fucking clue.

Quinn
held up his hands and sucked in his lower lip, big, blue eyes all
wide and innocent. I almost swooned, but I held my ground.

“
Hey
there, beautiful.”

“
It's
Andi,” I said, acidic tongue wagging at full force. “So,
you just leading me on or what? Why ask me out? Give me
chocolates?”

“
I'm
just hanging out. You know I was waiting for you, right? Didn't see
you in bio, so I thought something was wrong.”

“
Uh
huh,” I said, about to thrust the picture in his face and
demand that he explain himself. Then he stepped forward and his
should-be-illegal-because-it's-so-tight T-shirt rode up his belly and
flashed me wet worthy abs and a trickle of dark hair along with some
brightly colored tattoos. Tattoos that were most certainly
not
in
my penis picture.

“
I'm
all yours for tonight if you come clubbing with me. I won't even
look at another woman. Pinky promise?” he asked, and I stood
there like a deer in the headlights.
If Quinn didn't send the
pic, who did?
I had just sort of assumed it was him. I mean,
who else would've done it? Besides, it was pierced. Don't all bad
boys have pierced junk?

“
Um,”
I began as he moved closer to me and sent the hairs on my arms
standing to attention. He moved like a panther, all sleek and
muscular and
deadly.
I almost drooled.
Maybe he took it
before he was tatted?

“
What
have you got in your hand, beautiful?” he asked, apparently
allergic to using my first name. I took a step back and flicked my
eyes back and forth. Did I have a stalker? Was he watching me carry
his picture even now? Masturbating to it? And why was that idea
making me so wet between the thighs?

“
Is
your dick pierced?” I blurted, and Quinn paused. Then he stood
there and stared at me with a blank facial expression that made me
sick to my stomach. I kept myself from bolting by attaching my eyes
to his belly button. Now that,
that
was pierced. My Mystery
Man's wasn't. Shit.

“
Um,
no,” Quinn said, and that was that. “Save you a seat?”
I turned around and ran all the way to the parking lot.