For Love, For Lust, For Me

Sadie had sworn this Valentine’s would be full of love. Intentional. Just her, her flat, and a promise she made to herself. After the last Hinge situationship fizzled out without even the decency of a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text, she’d sworn to take control of her own pleasure.

She wasn’t heartbroken, just irritated. Sadie was tired of false starts and the classic ‘I’m just not looking for anything serious/you deserve someone ready to commit’ texts. She was done with being someone’s almost. So she planned her Valentine’s evening with care, the way she wished other people would plan dates - thoughtfully and without rushing.

The lights were low. She slipped into a lace body, not because anyone was meant to see it, but so she could pause in the mirror to admire and honour herself before her self-love ritual began.

Her phone lay on the bedside table, face down, deliberately ignored. For once, tonight belonged to her. She took her time. Let the hours stretch. Let the silence of her favourite vibrator feel heavy and deliberate. She moved through her evening with intention, grounded in her body, present in herself. This wasn’t about distraction or proving anything. This was about remembering who she was when no one else was watching.

And then, as if the universe was waiting for the exact moment she’d fully relax into herself, her phone buzzed. She ignored it at first. But something inside her stirred, like an intuition almost. She frowned at herself for caving, then reached for it. In an instant, the air in the room shifted.

Him.

Not the recent one. Not the almost. The other one - the man she’d never quite closed the door on, no matter how much time passed. The one who had always seen her clearly, even when she hadn’t known how to explain herself yet.

“Happy Valentine’s x”, the message read. Her breath slowed, but her pulse didn’t. She stared at the screen a little longer, letting the familiar pull settle into her chest.

“You always did have good timing”, she typed back.

His reply came almost immediately. “Are you alone?”

Sadie smirked: not sweetly, nor shyly. It was the kind of smile that curved slowly and knowingly, as she leaned back against the pillows and let herself enjoy the moment.

“Very x”, she replied.

There was a pause. Long enough to feel deliberate. And then came the kicker: “Do you still have the Jive?”

Heat curled low in her stomach: not sharp, not urgent, but dark and steady. She exhaled, steadying herself, and typed: “You remember everything.”

“How could I forget?” he answered. “Would you let me take care of you tonight?”

Sadie closed her eyes and began to imagine all of the good times they’d had together with this weapon of mass pleasure.

“I suppose”, she typed.

The shift in tone was immediate. Subtle, yet electric.

The We-Vibe Jive wasn’t new. It was something they’d already played with together: miles apart, late at night, their trust unspoken but absolute.

He didn’t rush her. He never had. She rested her phone on the bed by her side and stared at the ceiling, letting the moment stretch. Letting anticipation do the work it always did best.

When the first sensations began to bloom, it was a gentle touch. Intentional. Enough to make her smile instead of gasp.

Her phone buzzed with another message: "Too much?"

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it.

"You know better than that," she replied. "You always do."

The connection between them felt quieter now...steadier. But no less charged. Eventually, she exhaled and let the moment settle, the warmth between her legs lingering like an echo rather than a climax chased too hard.

Another message appeared: "Missed this version of you."

Sadie turned her face down, a slow smile pulling at her mouth.

She never left, she thought. She just knew exactly who she trusted to meet her there.

Time began to blur as if her orgasms began to roll over one by one. She felt powerful in her stillness, in her willingess, and in the way she let pleasure come to her instead of chasing it.

When the moment finally passed, she lay back against the pillows, chest rising and falling, a soft laugh escaping her before she could stop it. Not breathless, just...alive.

Her phone buzzed again.

"Feels like a slippery slope," he wrote. "In the best way."

Sadie smirked, satisfied and glowing.

"It does, doesn't it?" she replied.

There was a longer pause this time. One that felt heavier.

"Maybe we should stop pretending that we won't keep finding each other," he finally said.

Sadie considered it, but then she looked around her flat - the candles, the outrageous bedding, the calm she'd built for herself from the ground up.

"Maybe," she answered. "Maybe not."

She placed the phone back on the table, face down once more, and let the room settle. Whatever came next in her life, with him or anyone else, would happen on her terms.

Sadie stretched beneath the sheets, body loose, mind clear, lips curved with a quiet, dangerous smile. Valentine's Day had delivered exactly what she wanted. Not a knight in shining armour. Just a reminder: she was always the one in control.