James had known Jill for the better part of a year, but had never met her.  Their
contact had been limited to the telephone and letters. The long-distance bills
were ridiculous, but neither paid great attention to them.  James could not do
without her voice now and then.  So beautiful.  So soft, yet confident.  Her
laugh warmed his heart and her wistful sighs sent spikes of fire through his
spine. He occasionally caught himself, while talking with her, imagining that
those sighs were instead reactions to his touch and caress.


She was an educated woman.  Currently reaching for her Ph.D., she could entertain
him for hours with tales of digs in this land or that.  He enjoyed sharing her
passionate interest in biology and marine life. Her slender body and oval,
defined face with seemingly chiseled lips, cherub eyes, and soft, ivory skin
pleased his eyes.  Her unrestrained intellect pleased his soul.

She possessed everything that he loved about women, all in one body, mind, and
soul.

He knew very early that she was special.  He could not easily state why or in
what way, but the way she made him smile and his mind turn end over end was
undeniable.  She spoke of lacking much femininity, but he saw clearly that she
was as sensual and delicate as the most spoiled princess.  She also exposed other
fantastic parts of herself that he found lacking in many women.  A great
confidence and aggressiveness.  Stubbornness.

Oh, that stubbornness.  She could work him into a stalemate on any topic.  He
would, sometimes, provoke her into an obvious debate on some minor thing which he
knew they had opposing views of.  He didn't care so much to argue, as he did to
flirt.  Her outright insistence that she was right and that she _knew_ she was
stubborn enough to win aroused him.  Such determination and confidence and... and
he knew few words spoken in any language that would so aptly describe what she
did to him.

But, he wondered, did she reciprocate the interest in flirting with him or was he
the only one who found their mild confrontations and teasing comments on the sly
as 'flirting'?  God, he was so attracted to her and he felt not only illogical,
but pathetic.  To be so stricken by a woman and to feel compelled to admit that
compulsion to her seemed silly to James.  He hoped she gathered the sincerity
with which he spoke to her about his feelings.  He hoped she did not so idly
dismiss his heart as the fleeting thoughts of a horny male or a desperate person
searching for another person.

It was not any of those things, in truth.  Should she be thrown into the tangle
of a million people, he would still be able to seek her out.  He hadn't known a
single person with such intellect, beauty, and sweetness.  She unknowingly sent
his bitterness away with her gentle voice, like a priest exorcizing some maligned
and desperate demon.

Over the months which they spoke, he fought to keep his emotions and feelings
from becoming 'real'.  He insisted that one could never feel like this about
someone they had never met.  Then he realized otherwise.  Other people had
convinced him that it was, indeed, feasible and understandable to become
delighted in another without the intimacy of a face to face conversation and
meeting.  He threw another thorn at the prospect of his feelings and banished
them for availing themselves so soon.  Such an impossibility!  Falling for
someone in so little time?  He was a grown man with experience, not a giddy
parochial-school-girl.

Oh, but did she have to entice him so?  And without intent-- the more evil and
sadistic!

He occasionally slept nights which taunted him with images of her skin brushing
his or her lips taking from him the breath he dared not breath.  Images of her
darling eyes conveying all the meaning of this world to him in silence.  Always,
he awoke with this yearning for her.  With her intense and admirable
determination to succeed in her goals of education and career, he knew she may
never find interest in a relationship.  Neither did he care for a long-term or
eminently serious courtship.  Women had been to him what salt is to a slug. Each
time, slowly trodding away from broken relationships with a pitiful trail of
slime marking his path.  Always assuring himself that no woman would be of his
liking again.  He had tasted enough fruit to banish the tree.

But Jill was a different tree.  God, she was existing in an entirely separate
forest.  And would it that he be hurt, he cared little.  To taste those lips or
experience the trembling of her body as he placed kisses over it.  It would be
enough for him to experience only once and burn forever after.  To experience
such tenderness and passion with a well-educated and confident woman.  To bring
her as much pleasure as she might bring him...  He could not imagine fleeing from
that opportunity should it befall him.

And though they talked constantly over those months, there were words beneath his
words.  And meanings beneath his meanings.  He longed to be bluntly honest with
Jill, but feared to.  It made him snicker, for no woman had so surely rendered
him into such a peaceful and trusting state yet left him censoring his thoughts
as they formed into words and sentences and conversations.  He knew what he
wanted but was afraid to tell her.  What if she mistook his blunt and honest
manner for the self-centered and superficial males she had probably dealt with
before in life?  He wasn't the typical male and... and these feelings weren't
even his typical feelings.

He wanted to make-love to her.  To give her all his gentleness and care.  To
touch her in places that only worthwhile eyes might ever gaze happily upon.  To
share with her something that few people share with any one person.  With the
paths their lives would be walking for the seeable future, James was quite sure
that there was nothing possible between them more than brief and occasional
intimacy.  He would be lucky for that and he assumed nothing.  She had her life
and it was away with success.  He had his.

If only there was not the distance.

That was where the conversation took it's change that night.  He had made only a
teasing comment and Jill's response made him speechless.

"There's so much book-work I need to finish before I even think of completing
this paper,"  Jill sighed, "and it's due in a week."

"You're swift under pressure," James replied, "you'll pull through. Don't you
always?"

"Of course...  I could probably work better if I took a break now and again.  But
I'm one of those people that likes to work and can't take their mind away until
they've finished their project."

"Oh, I think I could occupy your mind for awhile," he said in a low, almost
whispered voice.

"Could you, now...?" She teased.

"I could.  And I would occupy more than your mind."

"What else could you occupy?"

"Your hands."

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe your bed."

She was quiet for a moment then responded, "But my bed is hundreds of miles away
from yours."

"We'll have to do something about that then, won't we?"  James countered, slyly.

"Better get on that airplane then, boy," she cooed.

It was James' turn to pause.  He thought.  He didn't need any time to construct a
reply, only time to gather the fortitude to speak it.  "I could have a ticket and
be there in a week, dear-- that'll show you to make suggestions!"

"Are you serious?" She asked.

"I-- Maybe...  I mean-- yes, but... God, I should shut up, shouldn't I?"

She giggled in that beautiful staccato laugh of hers.  "Oh, I don't think you
should shut up.  I would...  I was serious when I made the suggestion."




Seven days and a nervous flight across the states brought James to her city.  She
had offered to share her apartment with him for a few days while he stayed, but
he insisted that he take a hotel room first.  If she still liked him in person,
she could offer again if she truly wanted him with her.

He arrived on Valentine's day.  Traditionally a pointless and missed holiday by
James, but this year might be a little different.

He settled his things into the hotel room and turned out the lights to rest his
eyes from the agitating flight.  He'd slept for less than an hour when he heard a
knock.  He looked through the lens in the center of the door and saw Jill.

He quickly let her in.  She handed her coat to him and he hung it in the closet.

"It's very dark," she observed.

"Yes-- I'm sorry.  Shall I switch a few lamps?"

"No... It's very nice like this.  The lights of the city outside the window."

They stood close.  Her body emanated so much heat.  He found himself trembling. 
He was thankful for the darkness because he would hate to shake so much in front
of her.  But it _was_ she that did this to him.  Neither of them spoke.  Both
were obviously nervous.

James reached out to her form in the dark and touched her hand.  She curled her
fingers around his and he drew it to his chest.  Then he kissed her knuckles. 
She had the scent of Vanilla.  She didn't even begin to pull away.  He was still
very scared, yet pleased that she wasn't disgusted with him.

He kissed the inside of her wrist.  He wasn't able to see it, but she bit her lip
and closed her eyes.  He followed her arm and kissed, so softly, the inside of
her elbow.  Softly like wings of a small bird. She could hardly feel the touch,
but reveled in the sensations.  He pulled her to him and stood.  She followed his
gentle guide and they were soon chest to chest.  Their breaths both awkward and
heavy. Their bodies trembled and shook.  She was so warm.  James was afraid he'd
soon become a puddle of flesh on this wooden floor.  All this time and all this
desire finally coming to be recognized.

James touched her face with his fingers as he moved to kiss her.  His lips
pressed hers.  He was as delicate as he was capable, but even that seemed so
violent against the impossible softness and kindness of her lips.  They felt
innocent.  She felt innocent.  From the tales of her life, he knew she was
anything but pure, but she felt so nonetheless.

Her lips quickly shed the soft white clothing of a delicate virgin and took to
his mouth with an urgency.  As they kissed, raping one anothers mouth like a fire
born of lightening raping the crops of a land, she reached to his jeans and
unbuckled the belt.  His pants dropped to the floor and he stepped from them.

In return, James fumbled with her corset.  His fingers were almost useless
against the threads, however, as he was trembling with quakes of her touches. 
She quickly helped him and after the corset came to the floor, so too did her
ankle-length dress.

They stumbled to the bed, unwilling to relinquish hold of one another for even a
moment.  They fell to the mattress and she rolled to her back.  Spreading her
legs for him, he lay himself between them.  His hips were startled with soft and
firm thighs and his penis was pressed against panties that were smooth and wet.

He arched his back as their lips ate hungrily at each other.  He pressed the head
of his penis against the panties.  They were thin and he pressed hard against
them; entering Jill with the cloth between them.  The tip of his cock disappeared
inside of her and they both squirmed.  He was so hard and drawn to length while
she was wet and unimaginably warm inside.  He moved back and she slipped away the
panties.  Her legs pressed against his body and her feet touched his back,
encouraging him to resume his previous position.  With her apparent eagerness, he
returned both to her lips and the world between her thighs.

She was very wet and he sank completely into her body without effort. Deep
inside, he moved little.  He absorbed the sensations of being enveloped.  Her
arms snaked around his neck and he learned the movements of her tongue.  It too
was gentle and sweet with him.  In the dark, their bodies moved like coiled
beasts.  The complete circuit; receiving such great pleasure and giving it in
return, was flowing.

Their mouths soon parted for the need to breathe deeply.  Her undulating and
writhing body beneath his own tempted him to orgasm. The pleasure of pleasing was
so great for him that he feared disappointing her.

She began to whimper and as he moved inside of her, the whimpers grew to moans. 
Those, too, lived to become soft cries and desperate outlets for overwhelming
sensations.

"Harder," she whispered between breaths.

He obliged, his entry coming with more weight and pressure against her body.  She
answered his adjustments with a cooed chain of "yes's".  He continued his rhythm.
 Her cries came to be much shorter and frequent.  She tightened around his shaft
and squeezed him. Spasming.  Body tensing like stage-wire.  He wanted to come
with her. Could have.  But should she never allow another intimate experience, he
wanted to prolong this.  God, he wanted forever.  She was something that could
grow to an addiction.

Her arms, around his neck, scratched downward to his waist where she pulled him
against her.  He understood what she needed and ceased his movements.  Simply
staying buried within her belly and resting against her.  Silence.  Only the
beating of their hearts and breathing of their breaths.  They were still, though
there were lips to be kissed and places remaining to be touched.

Jill unleashed a final, long "Oh", sighed from the most angelic of throats.

He lay over her, with her breasts against his chest.  Heart pounding against
heart.  He desired to continue and to climax and come within her, but abated for
worry of upsetting her in her satisfied and peaceful glow beneath him.

After long minutes, she pressed her palm against his shoulder and pushed him onto
his back.  She followed and lowered onto his penis again.  His eyes closed tight
for a second and he gasped.  She giggled; pleased.

She reached far over the bed, without losing her position, and retrieved the
laces of her corset.  James smiled, knowingly.  She tied the laces around his
wrists and bound them to the headboard.  He moaned happily and awaited what
fiendish things this devil in angel's wings might propose.

Sliding off of his cock and moving to the foot of the bed, far from his reach,
she asked him, "Do you remember all those times when you cited me as a crazy
liberal?"

"Of course...  I don't know many other liberals-- none crazier, at least."  He
replied.

It was a running game for months now-- she was happily quite Liberal and he was
quite bluntly an economic Republican.  It was the basis of much argument and
possibly the fuel for their equally stubborn and passionate natures.  They
ignited when rubbed against each other like flint.  One would peg the other as
either Liberal or overzealous Republican when poking fun at one another's
argument s or political beliefs.

"Well, this Stubborn Liberal is going to sit here until the Crazy Republican
gives in admits he's wrong about everything he's ever contradicted me on."

He growled.  He knew he was defeated.  But he was also stubborn, like her.

"Admit it!"  She reiterated.

"Never, you left-wing whacko," he countered.

She crawled back to him and knelt between his knees.  She rocked forward and
pressed her lips to the shaft of his penis; drew her tongue upward.

"There's more when you admit to your error in logic," she said.

He growled again.  He was too stubborn to let her 'win'.  But her lips were magic
on his own and he could only imagine the trouble they might do to him elsewhere. 
Sweetness might be his only playing card in giving-in to Jill's stubbornness.

"And here I was going to ask you to be my Valentine," he pouted.

She laughed, "Baby, you're already my Valentine.  Now give in.  You know you want
more of me."

Oh god, she was right.  And worse, she knew she was right.

"Give in, Give in, Give in, Give in," she chanted, teasing.

Thinking of what she was offering made his stubbornness and maintenancee of being
'right' less important and he fell like a paper-house in a hurricane.

"I'm a Crazy Republican.  And you, my dear, dear Jill, are always right,"  He
answered sarcastically.  The words were enough for her and she considered herself
the victor.

The darkness of the room was covered by the darkness of the backs of his eyelids
as James felt those unforgettable chiseled lips draw around him.

She made him weak.  She made him wrong.  And now she made him happy.