My Valentine Pleasure

Being a Kiwi woman, we don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day over here. Well, we do kinda, but not to the same extent that the Americans do. Our retailers celebrate Valentine’s Day, by throwing up big posters “Show how much you love her/him” kinda thing. Costs an arm and a leg for one rose of course.

I like the idea of celebrating love. But I prefer to celebrate it every day, not just show it or prove it on one particular day of the year.

At the start of my road of dilemma between England and Canada, I had a problem when it came to sex. I mean, the ‘alone’ sex stuff. Trying to shut one out while I thought about the other (when the one I was trying to shut out, was the last one to make me feel so good by touching me in that way). It was damn near impossible for me to get any release at all (and let’s face it, noone wants to spend a couple of hours getting there by themselves right?). It’s a sad world when a girl can’t even rely on her own fantasies to get her over the edge.

I felt wrong thinking of Canada...felt disloyal to England if I did that...felt I had to shut Canada out of those thoughts entirely, considering I hurt him so badly, I deserved to leave him out of that side of things. Course, now, England’s gone walk-about for 2-3 weeks and prior to him taking off, things have hardly been rosy between us in that respect.

So, here is Valentine’s Day and I have noone asking for me to be their Valentine, or continue being their Valentine and I think, ‘fuck em all’ I’ll be my own Valentine to myself.

This morning, I lay back in bed closed my eyes and thought about Canada and thought about how wonderful it felt to be in bed with him...and during that time, thoughts of England interrupted and kinda got mixed in with the rest of my thoughts...and during the process of all this thinking going on, I got busy and had the best couple of orgasms I’ve had for a while. *the crowd goes wild*

So, from now on...I’ll fantasise about what I bloody well want to...I won’t feel guilty about either Canada or England being party to those thoughts, or not a party to them...these are my fantasies...so what if it feels like I’m having a threesome with two men that hate each others guts? They don’t need to know...I don’t plan to tell them. I’ll pleasure myself and think what I like and I’ll sleep better at night and be nicer to my children because of it. The rest of them can go to hell for the time being.

So here is my quick note of love to myself:
“Darling Sara, will you please be my Valentine?”
“Abso-fuckin-lutely, you’re soooo good at making me feel wonderful”

Yay Me!