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From: ***************@*********.*** (Brother Cadfael)

Subject: 'Valentine Jill' (Brother Cadfael) [ MF ]

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Copyright 1998. Distribute freely, but change nothing.

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Synopsis: James is falling for Jill, with whom he has struck a fine

friendship over the telephone. They decide to meet and spend some

time together. Not knowing if his attraction is reciprocated, he

awaits the moment with great anxiety.

-[ Valentine Jill ]-

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 maintenance

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.

-fin-

--

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