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I train a friend's wife to be a submissive slut.
With one of the dozen roses carefully pressed in the book, she sat down to enjoy her chocolate. As always, her emotions ran high, prompting her to turn in early. Her toy again replaced her unknown lover to lull her to sleep in the warm afterglow of a powerful orgasm.
Marie started her morning with a chocolate and a lingering sniff of her roses. After running her fingers over the petals for a few moments, she retrieved her paper - which was on time today, though still out in the snow of her yard - and sat down.
The paper sat forgotten in her hand as she stared at the roses, wanting desperately to know whom it was who touched her so, each and every year. She felt like a silly high-school girl again for getting so emotional, but she couldn't help it. Just as she pulled the rubber band from the paper, someone knocked on the door.
"It's me again," Paul said as he handed her the mail. "Pictures - do not bend."
Marie saw the address and knew that the pictures were of her new niece. Wonderful, another reminder that my biological clock is ticking away, she thought, and then silently chided herself for thinking it. "Thank you, Paul."
"Those are some nice flowers," he remarked, nodding toward the vase on the coffee table.
"Thank you. I just wish I knew who sent them," Marie said, carefully studying his face for any hint that he might be responsible.
"Oh - mystery man, eh?" He chuckled and said, "That was how I wooed my wife. Hope it turns out better for you than it did me. Better get going."
"Have a good day."
"You too, Ms. Collins."
Marie shut the door. Nothing in his face had really told her anything, but his mentioning that he'd courted his wife the same way pointed strongly in his direction.
As she watched him walk away through the window, she considered cutting to the chase and hinting that she wouldn't be opposed to him asking her out. That would certainly let her know for sure, and she knew she could do worse than to get over her aversion to dating anyway. He was a bit of a social pariah because he'd left the church to become a vocal atheist after his divorce, but it didn't really concern Marie. She didn't have a great deal of faith in a higher power since her marriage disintegrated, either.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caused Marie to pull up short as she turned back toward the couch. A peek out the window at the car revealed that it was nobody she knew, but then the blonde delivery girl who had brought the flowers stepped out.
Marie waited until the young woman started up the stairs to the porch, and then opened the door. "Hello again..." She trailed off, fishing for a name.
"Amy." The delivery girl looked from side to side, appearing a little nervous. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Marie agreed, holding the door open.
As soon as the door shut, Amy blurted out, "You can never, ever, ever tell anyone I did this."
Marie laughed and asked, "Did what?"
The young woman pulled a folded slip of paper out of her back pocket and said, "I had one of my friends look in the computer to find out who ordered those flowers for you."
Marie gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes locked on the slip of paper that would reveal the name of the man who'd given her reason to anticipate Valentine's Day again after her divorce. "I... Thank you," she softly said.
Amy held out the paper and reiterated, "You have to promise never to tell anyone that I gave you that, please?"
Marie took the paper, gingerly holding it between her finger and thumb and noticing that she was trembling. "I promise. I'll never tell anyone."
The blonde breathed a sigh of relief and then asked, with girlish excitement, "Aren't you going to open it?"
Marie grinned and said, "I'm afraid to."
"Well, I've got to go before someone sees me here and starts asking questions. Will you let me know how it turns out? I work the afternoon shift at the florists most days."
"I will," Marie answered, and then glanced down at the slip of paper in her hand a