St. Blue or Pink

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
Happy Valentine's Day.

This may be a strange take on a Valentine's day story, but I hope that someone gets what this means.

Submitted: February 11, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 11, 2012




His hand reached across the table, long slender fingers holding the stem of a chocolate covered strawberry. I smiled, leaning forward as I took a great big bite, the melted chocolate running over my red lips and tongue. He watched with something like satisfaction as I swallowed and smiled. He placed the stem onto my snow-white napkin and ran his hand down my cheek.

“Oh, Sam…”

I turned my face, pressing a small kiss to the palm of his hand. It was such a lovely night with him. Our candlelit dinner lay forgotten when he brought out the fruits and candies and chocolate fondue. We had been feeding each other the chocolate-dipped treats for a while now but we were growing weary of it.

There was tension between us but I couldn’t act on that just yet, because as much desire as I saw in his eyes, there was love and tenderness twice over. I took his hand and kicked off my heels, leaving me in just my slim fitting black dress. I pulled him away from the table, closer to the stereo where soft music filtered through the speakers.

Light was scarce, coming only from the candles, the dimmed lights above the breakfast bar and the moonlight spilling in through the skylights and large bay windows of the dining room. I pulled him into me, resting my head against his chest as we swayed with the music. Without my heels, I was about a head shorter than him, the perfect height to snuggle against him as we danced.

His hand was hot against my lower back and I felt him press a kiss to my hair that I had delicately pinned up around my head in a pretty but somewhat uncomfortable style. One hand reached up to tug the pins from my hair and inky strands fell around my shoulders, making my skin tingle. His fingers ran through my hair until his palm cupped the back of my head.

I tilted my face up to look at him. His eyes shone with love and adoration. “Sam…oh, Sam, I love you…” I shut my eyes as his lips pressed feather-soft kisses over my face: my nose, my eyelids, my forehead, my cheeks. Everywhere but my lips, he touched and loved.

“Jake,” I murmured, my voice cracking a little. His lips finally landed on mine in a kiss so sweet it brought tears to my eyes.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I grasped his hand and pulling back from him, I gave him my best seductive stare. It must have worked because he began to follow me to the bedroom. The moonlight caught in his eyes as we passed the bathroom, light streaming in through the small window. His eyes held such affection that it made my heart stop.

I walked backwards until we fell onto the bed. I reached for his zipper but he grabbed my hand, looking into my eyes. “No…tonight…I love you.” And his lips pressed to mine.


I jolted awake, staring at the dawn-streaked ceiling in my bedroom. My body was shaky and throbbing, but I tried to ignore it, shaking my head. I reached to my nightstand, pushing my glasses up onto my nose and tumbling out of bed.

I pulled some clothes on and walked to the mirror. Flannel shirt covering a scrawny body, baggy jeans. I stared into my face in the mirror, wondering why I had been born the way I was.

“Samuel! Come down for breakfast.” I sighed. I was no Samuel. I was a Samantha.


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