I love Valentine’s Day. I have from the time I was a kid. Back then, the day meant spending hours making cards at home the week before because we couldn’t afford to buy any. Then bringing them to school, making mailboxes out of paper plates, and putting your Valentine’s cards in each one. Or most of them. Back then you didn’t have to give one to everybody. I always hoped to get a special card from the cute boy that I had a crush on, and dreaded getting that special card from the school creep.

When junior high and high school came around, it was the rare year that I was dating anybody, and if I was, I was lucky to get anything but a card. And maybe a grope or two at the movies in the balcony, but never anything very exciting. No flowers, no dinners, and never any sex.

Then I met my husband in my senior year of high school. We had been dating for about 6 months (and engaged for about 4) before Valentine’s Day rolled around. We had a rather traditional date: I got 2 dozen long stem red roses. We went out for a nice dinner and then to a movie. Not a romantic movie, though. He would have had to drag me kicking and screaming to one of those (and still would). We went and saw F/X, which was great, from what I saw of it. That balcony at the theater saw a lot of action that night, and we were probably lucky we didn’t get thrown out! There’s definitely something to be said for wearing a skirt on a date.

Then we went back to his place for some crazy Valentine’s sex. He bought me a sexy red bra and panties, the first of many Valentine’s lingerie I would receive. In fact, since that time, although he doesn’t buy me as much lingerie as he used to, he loves to see me dressed up in something sexy,

Over the years, we’ve celebrated a lot of ways. The roses are pretty much a staple, although he often has them delivered to my work so I can enjoy them the whole week long. They’re always red, and always beautiful.

The wild sex is a staple, too. We’ve had romping sex all over the house. We’ve had sex in cars and sex at the movies. We’ve done bondage play, from the light (tying me up with red silk sashes) to the heavy (red collar and cuffs and tied to the furniture while he spanks me with a heart paddle). I’ve been fucked with everything from red dildos to champagne bottles. And it just keeps getting better.

Some years we’ve had romantic dinners at home, where I actually cook. We have sexy desserts like strawberries and whipped cream, which lead to relaxing massages, bubble baths together, and other activities. Other years we go out for a nice dinner while we hire a sitter for the night. Those years we typically go to a movie, like Friday the 13th or My Bloody Valentine (it’s the romantic in me). Unfortunately, none of the theaters where we now live have a balcony, but the back row works just as well.

We’re still romantic often, but there’s just something special about Valentine’s Day. And now I have to go make my husband a card.