1969: It’s Valentine’s Day

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***Author’s Note***

This story is a companion piece to my earlier story “1969: Ghost Before the Dawn” and a companion piece to any stories in the “1969” series, and related series.

You don’t have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together.


It was the morning of Valentine’s Day in 1969. Twenty-two-year-old Dorothy was bustling about, her cherry-colored uniform accentuating the peach curves beneath, her ink-black hair bunned, and her smile a permanent fixture of her face.

She rushed out with plates of foods and drinks, serving many a couple, from the group-date young sweethearts to the married elderly, and family sets and friends, or sometimes “friends”, she suspected.

Muffins, pancakes, croissants. Water, coffee, tea, milkshakes. Muffins. Muffins. Apple pie. Muffins. Lemonade. Extra sugar. More syrup. Little cakes for dessert. Pancakes. Pancakes…

And it was still only morning.

But thankfully for her, it would only be morning. The amount of waitresses available was unusually high, more-usually eager for money, and Dorothy certainly wasn’t going to risk her shift or way home going into the sunset of Shabbat.

Smiling. Tips. Creeps here and there.

Her shift was almost over.

Closer. Closer.

Almost there.

Annnnnnnd… Yes!

Dorothy finished up a handful of things before clocking out and goodbying some of the workers, her coat half on and purse in hand.

She practically ran outside, her smile becoming genuine. She was just about to walk home.


Dorothy turned to the man’s voice. A familiar black-haired and honey-skinned beau stood before her, leaning against his car.

“Hiram? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was just thinking about you and how busy things’ll be today… I figured you could use a ride.”

She laughed. “Showing up at my workplace? Oh, that’s not creepy at all.”

His own chuckle joined. “Are you coming or what?”

“I’m driving.”

“Oh, are you?”


She ran to the unlocked driver’s side and hopped in.

“Are you coming or what?”


Hiram could barely open the door as they kissed against it.

She threw him inside and hurriedly locked it.

His dogs greeted them, but Hiram diverted their attention with toys and kissed Dorothy harder.

“Is this why you drove istanbul escort to my place and not yours?”

Dorothy didn’t answer. She only kicked off her shoes, pulled the dress over her head, and tossed it to the floor before straddling him on the sofa, delivering kisses all over his face and neck.

“You’re actually wearing undergarments? Is it because of work?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day and you want to play Twenty Questions?” she laughed.

Dorothy unhooked the black bra, exposing her small breasts, and Hiram quickly returned to kissing her mouth, face, neck, and downward still.

He planted soft kisses upon the peach breasts, teasing close to her nipples, away, close, away, close…

She placed the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Oh, why must you torture me so?”

The two giggled and he gave a hard spank before flicking his tongue gently on her nipples, sucking and finger-playing with them back and forth.

Dorothy kissed the top of his head and allowed her hand to wander to his trousers.

She palmed his covered erection while his mouth roamed her neck once more.

He yanked off his shirt, showing his toned and athletic form. Dorothy slid fingers beneath her black cotton panties, and circled his nipples with her own wet lust.

Hiram just about growled as he spun her to her knees and put his face to the soft mound, taking in her sweet, feminine scent with a quiet moan.

He glided the fabric off and admired her intimate curls before licking the perineum

Dorothy giggled and tugged his hair.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Hiram rushed his clothes off and bridal-carried her to the bedroom, placing her on emerald sheets.

But Dorothy jump-attacked him, throwing his body beneath her and straddling his face.

He held her thick ass and pressed his tongue against her eager clit. She leaned over him, her breasts on his abdomen, her mouth at the base of his sex.

Dorothy breathed deeply through the nose, guiding his hard cock in her throat and holding it there for a moment. She wet and massaged his balls, and he glided a couple fingers in her sex.

The two consumed each other, their bodies hot with pleasure. He kissed and tongued her, come-hithered her with his fingers as she swallowed him again and again.

She writhed upon him, but he grasped her ass tight with a single hand, and she rose and rode his face, cock tight avcılar escort in her own grasp.

Heat grew at her core. Flames beckoning. Wanting. Needing.

She rode him harder. He stayed unwavering in his steady pace.

“Hiram!” she gasped and moaned, her body tightening and twitching.

She groaned out gibberish, growling and howling like a demon as she banged fists hard against him.

“Oh fucking— son of a bitch! FUCK! Shit!”

Tears streamed down her face, head spinning.

“Yessss! God, I missed you!”

Dorothy bounced hard. She cried and laughed hysterically. Her voice grew softer, lighter, until she gasped into silence, sounds, silence. Again and again as her sex twitched tight against the face of its willing hostage.

She collapsed.

Hiram chuckled and gave her ass a smack. Dorothy only mumbled incoherently.

“I actually have something for you,” he said. “I thought I might sneak it to you after synagogue tomorrow, and I probably would have brought it today, but it was sort of a spontaneous drive…”


“Uh, well,” he slid something out from beneath the bed. “This is for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She reluctantly pushed herself up, her eyes only half open.

It was a large, rectangular box, wrapped in newspaper and a black ribbon.

Dorothy forced her eyes to focus, and quietly spoke.

“Cultural Life in Cuba Thriving Despite—”

“Open it, silly!”

She carefully untied the ribbon and laced it around her thigh before tearing into the rest to see a large, white thing with a cord.

“What… what is that?”

“It’s called a Hitachi Magic Wand.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s really sweet. I think. It’s just kind of a weird shape. It might be too long for me, honestly. Unless it’s for my ass. Is it for my ass? That’s—”

“No, Dorothy. You don’t shove it in anywhere.”


He chuckled and plugged the wand in, then hauled her body toward him.

They were on their sides, her legs spread once more as he massaged his cock.

“Hold it right… here.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened sharply at the vibrations on her clit.

She giggled a shriek. “Oh, you are so bad!”

“Punish me later.”

Hiram pushed himself inside of her, arms around her chest, mouth at her neck.

The two softly moaned.

Dorothy’s hands clasped the strong arms, and little squeals escaped her.

His thrusts became rougher, şirinevler escort his balls drumming her ass, and his moans hot against her neck.

“God, Dor!”

She grabbed and clawed his neck, and he shoved her fingers in his mouth, sucking tight as he rammed her.

The heat between them bordered on the Arabian sun.

Her sex strangled his, twitching and pulsating with the vibrations. He took a fistful of her hair and the taste of her neck, her ears, her face, her mouth.

God, he was close. He was so close.

“Oh, Hiram!” she cried out. “Take me in the ass!”

He grabbed lube from the nightstand and she’d gotten on her knees, hands on her ass as she spread her cheeks before him.

Hiram lathered her entire ass, making sure to smack everywhere.

He playfully kissed and bit her ass before tonguing the tight hole.

“Oh, you tease!” she giggled.

He gave his cock a few jerks before pressing it at the base of her anus, and slowly entered.

She growled softly and held the wand to her clit again.

Hiram moved with a gentle ease. Her ass and vibrations were hot and tight on his body.

Dorothy buried her face in a pillow, muffling her fiery screams and moans.

Still, he was slow. Her gripped her shoulder and the once-bun-now-vague-ponytail of her messy locks.

It was too much. Far too much.

Dorothy gasped for air.

“My hand is cramping and I don’t give a fuuuuck!” she laughed.

“Dorothy, I’m—”

“Yes! You fucking cum in my ass! You. Fucking. Get that cum— in— my fuckin—”

He shot his hot load deep in Dorothy’s ass, coating it so completely. He gave her a few more thrusts, sure to get every drop of cum inside of her, and he slowly slid out.

His cum cascaded down her ass, drip, drip, dripping on the sheets.

The two collapsed together and she wrapped arms around him, holding him as he’d held her, and kissing his face.

“…hey, Dorothy?”


“Why’d we ever break up?”

“Which time?” she giggled.

“I’m serious.”

“Well, last time it was because you, you know, asked me to marry you… and I don’t know…”

Dorothy sighed. “I don’t think I could do that to you, really. I know my parents wanted me to marry Gabriel and I don’t know. Part of me wanted to make them happy… so I chose neither.. I guess?”

“You can’t live your life for your parents.”

“I know that. But more than that, I know that you can’t live your life for my parents. And I don’t think I’m ready to just… not? I know it sounds stupid—”

“Not stupid so much as sad… I— You know, let’s just rest.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“But go pee first.”

“Oh, right.”

“Otherwise, you might get an infection like that time in—”

“OKAY!” she chuckled.

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