If I Had My Chance

The following consists of two sex scenes from a fan fiction time travel novel I'm planning to write. I'm not trying to be annoying by posting only from the middle of the story; quite honestly, these are the only part I've written so far. Yep, I skip right to the good parts! That's what fan fiction is all about, anyway...and I'm sure you'll be able to perfectly understand what's going on. ;)

A little bit of background (and the only bit that you need to know in order to understand where we are in this scene):

Girl goes back in time to save JFK (doesn't really know how it happened...). She gets there about a month beforehand, and, well, some good things happen. Corny, yes...delightfully!

*

1. THIS IS THEIR FIRST TIME:

They lay in bed, shoulder-to-shoulder, hand-in-hand, looking up at the stars just beyond the skylight in the low ceiling. Tonight would be their night. Both knew, and both were silent in that moment's reverie. It was so delicate a moment, so vital; without words, Jack and Valerie mutually agreed that this night would inevitably mark some grand turning point which would seal the bond between the two of them from there on after.

Jack was nervous. Sure, he'd been around the block, screwed probably triple the amount of women he could even remember—but it suddenly dawned on him that he probably hadn't ever made love to anyone--at least not in several years.

What if he didn't remember how to do it right? What if he couldn't please her, messed something up somehow?

He drew Valerie close and held her tight. He realized he was shaking a little, and she felt it, too.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just—I just love you. God, I love you, Valerie."

"I love you, too."

They began kissing, and piece by piece, all of their clothing gradually found its way to the floor. Valerie ran her hands softly over every part of him, tracing all the outlines of this perfect being, the other half that, once, could not have been more gone, more far away. She wanted to feel him completely, and when she closed her eyes, that given moment's caress became a lifelong memory, forever encapsulated in the tips of her fingers.

Jack closed his eyes and reveled momentarily in her gentle touch and the light tickle of her fingernails that gave him goosebumps and little shivers all over. He kissed her neck and then her chest, her stomach, and Valerie suddenly shivered violently and laughed aloud. He smiled playfully and embraced her.

"You're sensitive, huh?"

Valerie blushed, embarrassed.

"Me too," said Jack happily, so grateful, it seemed, that this was something they shared. Valerie breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone else she had been with had always acted like it was a bad, or at the very least a strange, characteristic. He held her tight and then let go, releasing all but her small left hand, which he cradled in his own as he kissed her inner thighs and, then, between her legs. Valerie moaned quietly, overwhelmed with a sudden and urgent longing; she needed to hold onto him, to see and feel his pleasure in sync with her own. She took hold of his other hand and pulled him upward, until he lay on top of her and the two of them were face-to-face. His shiny, fluffy hair was indeed unlike any other hair she had ever seen; she messed it up a little and relished its silkiness between her fingers. Jack kissed her forehead and turned over onto his side, his body pressed tightly against hers.

"Lie with your back to me," he whispered. Valerie turned over, and Jack curled his body around hers. This was so wonderful, this feeling of her being completely surrounded by his warmth. It drove her crazy the way his soft hair tickled the back of her neck, the way his breath made a warm breeze in her ear. Jack embraced her, brushed her hair away and kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear. He took her left hand in his right.

Valerie looked back and kissed him.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He eased inside of her slowly until at last he gave her all of him, and her pleasure was deep and thorough. He felt amazing. Her body shaking from the power of sheer euphoria, Valerie gripped his hand tighter as if to steady herself, and reached her right arm back to caress him.

"Am I hitting your spot?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse from pleasure and still a bit of that previously unfamiliar nervousness.

All Valerie could do was nod and hold onto him. Jack smiled blissfully, buried his face in her neck. He said: "We were made for each other." Valerie kissed him wherever she could—his shoulders, his hand, his neck, his hair, his lips.

She adored him beyond anything words could describe. How truly special and new was this experience of his body connected with hers in so many ways, all at once—their hands, their lips, their most sensitive places. As he made love to her, the two of them seemed to become one being, one soul. Valerie had never felt so complete before in all her life.

"I'm yours," Jack whispered. "Forever. I love you."

"Closer, closer...I need to hug you..."

He moved back on top of her, and they clung to one another. Together, they finished, their bodies rendered helpless in their precious shared moment of euphoria.

Together, they crashed, hearts pounding, drenched in each other's sweat. Their limbs were completely numb, their ears buzzing from a lightheadedness so intense that it held them at the brink of inebriation. He nuzzled her with a new level of comfort and familiarity, and the two of them laughed lovingly in unspoken astonishment as they gasped for air.

"Wow, huh?" said Jack.

"Yeah. We're good at this!"

The crisp night breeze that circled their room from the skylight to the open window quickly chilled the sweat to freezing, and soon their hair dripped icy raindrops down upon their tingling skin.

They huddled together--Valerie with her head against Jack's chest, listening to his miraculous heartbeat, silently vowing to protect him, no matter what it took, to die for him, if need be. Nothing bad would happen to him now; she was here. And nothing bad would happen to her, not here, in his arms.

They shared a gentle kiss goodnight, and surrendered to exhaustion, falling fast asleep, but never letting go.

2. NOVEMBER 21, 1963 (one week after the first scene)

Jack and Valerie snuggled close on the bed in their hotel suite, resting in each other's arms while the tv mumbled white noise in front of them. She wore her new pale pink silk nightie, he a pair of soft white boxers; they were dressed appropriately for bed, permissibly for love.

Tomorrow would be the day. Every few seconds, Valerie felt terrifying waves of anxiety, which she did her very best to hide. Such fear was most certainly unfounded, seeing as all necessary measures had been taken to ensure the safety of her beloved. No need to worry him and scare him again in the midst of his campaigning. She'd set everything right, and if she knew only one thing at all, it was that she would never let anyone take him from her.

She nuzzled him, whispered in his ear: "Could you do me a favor?"

"Hmm?" Jack kissed her forehead and ran his fingers sleepily, gently through her hair.

"Can you just let me go down on you until you finish? Just relax, and let me make you feel good?"

Jack closed his eyes and breathed her scent. It was so amazing to have someone who cared so much about his every feeling, who truly wanted to know him in all possible ways. To finally have her here, so warm and so real beside him, almost made him wonder if Heaven and Earth had not in fact merged completely.

There was no woman in the world who could please him like she could; he had eyes only for her now, he knew where he belonged and that there was no better time or place to be.

"Okay," he whispered, curious, flattered, and intrigued by her request.

Valerie hugged him, briefly massaging the back of his neck.

"I love you," Jack whispered as the palm of his hand brushed over the length of her smooth back.

She pulled off his boxers and teased him with her tongue, then felt his erection grow within the warmth of her soft mouth. She wanted desperately to watch his passion climax without the distraction of her own mind-altering sensation, and she wanted total control of her intimate devotion.

Jack reached for her hand, and their fingers intertwined. With her other forefinger, Valerie followed the trail of hair beneath his belly button, tickling, building his excitement, then abruptly drew her hand upward and ran it back down along his side, stroking his ribs with soothing pressure, tracing his hip and his thigh and, at last, his throbbing arousal. She moved her hand up and down with ease over the thin coat of her saliva that coated him, and he gave a soft cry of ecstasy as his loins pulsed with a wave of sudden pleasure. Valerie loved how she could feel his little spasms, hear his every quiet moan. As he squeezed her hand and lightly stroked her hair, she caressed him and explored his sensations, longing to become fluent in the intricate language of his body.

He threw his head back, held fast to her hand, and as he twitched and tossed with pleasure, he was purified. So many years, so many women; so many women who never stayed the night, who sought only to spoil his secrets and steal his information. Countless nights had stolen so many passionate, genuine, and desperate embraces from his lonely and all-too-trusting heart, so young and so fragile despite his heavy burdens and responsibilities. And he could never get those embraces back. Used up, betrayed, so dirty...always the married girl's second pick, the social climber's ladder.

...but not anymore. Jack Kennedy had found her, or rather, time had found her, and destiny had brought her to him. His twin soul, his everything, as he was hers. No woman would ever have him again, and it seemed his past just lifted, disappeared, as he realized that none of those heartaches had ever truly been for real.

He dug his nails into the mattress.

"Okay," he gasped. "Okay, you can..."

No. She would not pull away. She enveloped him in her lips and massaged him with her tongue, reveling in the taste of him just as she had the sight, the scent, the sound of his voice, and the blessed physical touch.

Jack cried out loudly this time, losing all control as she ignited and fueled his explosion, the joining transfer of warm fluid from his body to hers. So very personal.

Valerie let him lay still until he caught his breath, and then she pulled him up so that he sat face-to-face with her and she settled onto his lap, wrapping her arms and her legs around his smooth and slender body.

She draped her head over the back of his shoulder as she held him, so that he would not see the look of sadness that had come over her face. She examined the back of his neck with her gentle fingertips, and the unforgettable Zapruder film haunted her; that first shot, the bullet hit him right there. Safely out of his sight, Valerie winced and squeezed him tighter. She kissed this spot ever so softly, and ran her fingers up through his luscious hair, tousled and wild from the heat of his euphoria.

Oh, God...oh, God, no...it was permanently engrained in her mind, his exploited on-screen death, the exact moment of his horrific departure from this world. With reverent tenderness, she combed through the hair on the back right side of his head. The tears were there, but she refused to let them flow. She gently leaned his head to the side, and kissed this spot as well, her lips lingering atop his soft, messy hair, her eyes closed and determined not to damage it with tears.

She leaned back and brushed the hair from his deep and enchanting eyes, and he tilted his face upward, reveling in the tingling sensation this caused in his scalp. Before he could look back down, Valerie rested her palm on his forehead, holding him there with this delicate gesture while she leaned in and kissed his fragile throat, on the site of the exit wound caused by the first shot.

Jack did not know the significance of these kisses, nor did he pick up on her perfectly-concealed, seemingly-paranoid sense of dread. November 22nd had not happened yet, and she had spared him of all gruesome details, of course, when she had warned him of his impending doom so that they could avoid it. He was tired from his orgasm, and relaxed enough to sleep like a baby. He grabbed her playfully around her waist and pulled her down on top of him, grinning up at her with mischievous sleepiness from the fluffy paradise of his pillow. Valerie smiled back, a very sad smile. She lay flat against him, sighed, and kissed his cheek.

"The world doesn't deserve you," she whispered, and at once he sensed her worry.

"I'm going to be fine, Angel," he assured her, cradling her small figure with strong, confident concern. "We're going to be great. We've got our whole lives ahead of us."

"I know," said Valerie, doing her very best to be convincing. She rolled off of him and lay with her stomach against his side, her body still touching the length of his. With her fingertips, she spelled out the word "invincible" on his chest and stomach, as if it really would work as a protective spell for the rest of his precious life. It felt good to Jack, this subtle tickling, for as far as he knew, it was nothing more. He became even more relaxed, and closed his eyes, his left arm limp about her shoulders, his right hand playing with the ring on her left, the symbol of their devotion, as he drifted off to sleep. 'Not until death do us part,' Jack thought, as the real world slowly lifted and the dream world set in. As one tends to know unusual, sometimes preposterous things in dreams, Jack simply knew that their love was forever. He dreamt he was laying on an endless beach, and she was right beside him.