A/N: Ok guys, this is a very special one off edition of Erik's Requiem for Valentines Day, so grab it whilst you can. I won't be continuing this one as it is purely a one off.

This is my offering to the gods of the 'Erotic Massage Contest'. I hope you enjoy my humble submission. Just a little tittle tat for you all the read.

Erik's Requiem-Valentines Day

I Blame The Merlot

"Valentines Day.

I love it.

My most favourite of all the Hallmark holidays it must be said! Although I am a fan of a more low-key display of affection, it has to be said that I do enjoy all the over exaggerated trappings and trimmings that Valentines Day encompasses. (I mean…I am well aware that I won't get anything, but that is something I have come to get used to I suppose!) I just enjoy all the celebrations and the build up that goes on around me!

You see when I was a young lad, we had none of this lovey dovey stuff. No sentimental cards, or heart-shaped chocolates. No red roses sent by Interflora, no giant balloons nor heart felt poems. No not of that malarkey. You see, in my day it was celebrated at a much less commercial level. In my day, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who their valentines would be. They would wear these names on their sleeves for one week and see who claimed them! It was all jolly good fun, until some poor unfortunate maiden picked the bumbling village idiot! Sometimes there would be the occasional dance or jig in the village square, or maybe a special feast in one of the hallowed halls of some rich high-to-do nobleman. Oh we did have some laughs back then; such simple wholesome fun. But very different from now-a-days I can tell you!

Yes, Valentines Day has to be the best holiday of them all…(except Christmas of course!)

It's the one day out of 365 that's its completely acceptable to show your undying affection and unwavering adoration for your most loved one. I think it's sweet how even the most unromantic individual seems to adopt an altogether more amorous and passionate persona for that single day. Like an intoxicating elixir, it gets into you for twenty-four hours and you become utterly infatuated and in love. No-one seems to be immune from the Valentine charm.

And I must say…the dandy and Little Miss Hammond are no exception.

I thought that a simple well chosen card, maybe a classic red rose would be sufficient enough to inform the other party of your feelings for them.

How wrong could a suit of armour be?

It is as if they are taking pride in out shining each other in the romance stakes. I mean, the other day, the cad came in with a disgustingly huge teddy bear that he could barely get his arms around. Miss Hammond then snuck off to her room with an enormous bunch of red heart balloons. Then the harlequin bought red roses, then Evey bought a huge platter of heart shaped biscuits…oh the list is endless! Sneaking around the gallery like sly little devils, acting in a most secretive and bizarre manor. Although it is highly entertaining to watch and be a party to all this build up.

But would it all be worth it?


The big day eventually arrived, or should I say the big evening. (The pair had decided to celebrate in the evening, so they could share their love over a nice and very expensive bottle of Merlot, and not have to feel like alcoholics for drinking it first thing in the morning.)

After much preparation and hard work, the gallery was all decked out. Rose petals everywhere. Soft glowing pink candles. Frank Sinatra on the Wurlitzer. The huge teddy bear V had bought was in its rightful place with a big red bow around its neck. The bouquet of roses looked splendid. Evey had scattered chocolate hearts and biscuits all over the place. The perfect Valentines meal was already to be served and even I joined in and had one or seventy little heart stickers stuck to me. I was really enjoying the atmosphere and the place looked very romantic.

Evey came from her room looking ravishing in a pretty backless black dress. And I must say the cad looked acceptable too in his get up.

This was going to be a lovely and very pleasant and refined evening, I could just feel it.

A few glasses of wine and an exquisitely cooked fillet mignon with asparagus later, the evening was going swimmingly. Evey adored her bear, V loved his balloons and they were both very much in love. It was truly a sight to behold. Never had I seen too people so enamoured with each other, made me want to cry almost.

I just love watching people that are in love.

But as is the usual course with such evenings, the wine turned to saucy chatter. The saucy chatter turned in to a hand upon a knee. The hand upon a knee turned into a little kiss. And the little kiss was turning into…well you can guess I'm sure.

A massage.

I can handle that, and I was alright with it. I know how these things are when two young people are in love. And besides, surely if things get any more heated they'll move to a more private setting?

I couldn't have been more wrong.

The evening had descended into nothing more than a debauched groping session. Roman emperors and their sadistic desires had nothing on these two randy beasts! What happened to romance, love and affection? Has it been replaced by sexual innuendos, intimate petting and the exploration of each others mouths?! Why is it so vital that the hands make sudden and frequent trips to the groins of the other person?! I just couldn't believe it! Sweaty panting, lusty moans and pained shouts of pleasure rang in my ears. There seemed to be hands, lips and other body parts everywhere!

And the language?! Never have I heard such gratuitous and repeated use of words such as nipple, lips, swollen, cock, fingering, pyke-staff and thrusting. My delicate ears shall never every be the same again.

But before the lovebirds could even get to the bedroom, they decided to treat me to a floor show…right there…in front of dear old Erik.

And what I saw next, words cannot describe.

The massage from hell.

I've never seen a woman bent into such a position and I didn't know it was possible for the human tongue or hands to move that fast around such a curve. The noises they were making were more akin to noises that wilder beast crossing the Serengeti make! I could not believe what I was seeing and hearing. My innocence…lost…lost in one violent sweaty grunt.

How many times must the letter V be screamed in one evening. Had I ears I would have ripped them from my head in disgust and shame!

A massage? Not by my books it wasn't. But then again, arms and legs akimbo, I couldn't tell what the hell was going on. I only knew I didn't like what I was seeing.

Why o why couldn't they have moved me? Turned me to face the wall? Moved me to another room just for the night? Why couldn't they just let me have my delusions of romance, hearts and flowers? Of love and simple adoration? Why did my perfect vision of Valentines Day have to be shattered in one dirty thrust?!

There they were, blissfully unaware that I was having to watch the whole nastiness of V's 'erotic massage' upon Evey. That was no normal massage I can tell you, I doubt there is a masseur in all of England that would knead and stroke the places that he did! And I thought masseurs had to keep their clothes on and be professional when administering a massage?! His nasty hands upon her skin made me feel ill. Her hands gripped tightly upon certain areas of his anatomy. His tongue in the most holiest of holes and places! Her fingers….well…you don't want to know.

I feel sure I blacked out from the horror of it all, as the very last thing I can remember is a large bottle of baby oil, V in a 'hung like a stallion' posing pouch, a pair of lacy black French knickers (that ended up on my head, stuck in my plume of feathers!) and many many greasy hands.

But when I came round and finally re-established myself in hell, it got worse…I wish I had never opened my eyes.

My gag reflex kicked in right there. Why didn't I just keep them shut…why?! Why did I have to look? Wasn't the sound and all the noise bad enough? I should have guessed from the 'mmms' and the 'ahhhs' that the event wasn't over. Far from it…I feel the climax had only just begun.

In this sick performance of Valentines Day expressions of love, Evey had only just come onto the stage.

It was my Evey…indulging and enjoying her turn to administer her own version of a massage. Why…WHY? My little angel, my sweet and innocent Evey…how did she know such things?! Why were her hands there? Why is she licking her lips? What was she doing with her mou…

Oh sweet Jesus…please tell me that she isn't…

Oh no…she just did.

No…no dear readers…don't be fooled into imagining that there were hands involved in this one.

I think you can guess what I'm hinting at. An erotic massage of a very different kind.

Happy Valentines Day…."