Chapter 1: Let's Get Together
Bill Clinton was the last person Hillary expected to be knocking on her door at 9pm on a Sunday. Especially given that she had just spoken to him less than an hour before and he knew she was feeling like death warmed over. But there he was, scraggly and smiling, orange juice in one arm and a paper bag in the other. He seemed a little nervous, she could tell by the way he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She had to admit it was endearing, and she smiled in spite of her pounding head and scratchy throat.
"Chicken soup," He thrust the bag at her by way of explanation. "You sounded so awful earlier, I thought this might make you feel better, I hope it's ok." He honestly sounded so flustered that she couldn't turn him away, so she stood back against the open door and ushered him in with the sweep of her hand.
"Come on in," she said as she motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa in their small living area. She pulled one of the dining chairs across from him and sat down.
"You came all this way just to bring me this?" She asked, genuinely surprised and flattered.
He smiled and seemed to relax.
"I don't mind. Besides, I wanted to see you." She could see the color rise slightly in his cheeks.
She couldn't figure this guy out. They had had a great time on their jaunt around the campus and their first "date" at the museum, but then he had seemed aloof at the the party in her dorm later. Despite being in Vermont with David for the weekend, she had found herself thinking about him and wondering if she had imagined anything between them that night in the courtyard, when he lay his head on her shoulder as they had talked. And now here he was, tending to her. She was perplexed.
"How come you were so quiet at the party the other night?" She asked hesitantly.
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly.
"Because I was interested in learning more about you and your friends," he replied.
She smiled in return. He was sweet.
"And what did you learn?"
"That you're smart and funny. You have a great laugh. You seem like a good friend and people gravitated toward you. You're beautiful, even if you dress a little funky. And I am fascinated by you." The last words were just above a whisper, but he looked her right in the eye. She was touched by his honesty.
She laughed self depracatingly. "I've been called a lot of things, but fascinating is not one of them."
Bill seemed rather incredulous.
"That's just it. You are completely oblivious to the effect you have on people. It's magnetic."
Now it was Hillary's turn to blush. She had never really given much thought to how others viewed her personally, always more interested in listening and facilitating when she saw a problem. It was a bit unnerving that someone she had spent only a few hours with could see in her things she couldn't see in herself.
"Thank you," she said simply.
He reached for her hand and she gave it to him.
"I hope you'll let me get to know you better," he implored.
She nodded. "I'm seeing someone," she reminded him, more to appease her own guilt than out of love for David. Although she certainly had feelings for him, she wasn't sure where their relationship was going, even after all this time.
Bill squeezed her hand in response. "I know. And if that means all we can be is friends, I can accept that."
He stayed and they talked for hours, moving from subject to subject almost in a stream of consciousness-she was impressed by his broad range of knowledge. He could be at times passionately excited, at other times somber and she realized he felt deeply about many things, wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way that was refreshing for a man, especially one so young.
When at last Hillary was having trouble keeping her eyes open, he stood and pulled her up from the other side of the couch, where she had moved as their conversation had progressed. He led her by the hand to the door and kissed her cheek as he opened it.
"Is it ok if I call you tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.
She nodded, half asleep, but already anticipating it.
"Get some rest, I'll talk to you soon."
"Goodnight Bill, I'm really glad you came by tonight. Thank you for being so thoughtful."
She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. She had a strange feeling her life was about to get a whole lot more complicated, but she thought she might just be alright with that.
One week later
The past few days had been a blur of coffee and studying. Sleep was taken in short bursts and pads of notes were consumed over hasty meals in the library or wherever they happened to be cramming for finals. At present they were in Hillary's dorm and Bill was finishing up a sandwich at the small table while Hillary poured over her Advanced Child Advocacy study guide on the couch. She was deep in concentration, which allowed him to steal longing glances at her without her noticing. The truth was, he was totally enamored with her and it was driving him absolutely insane that she was at least feigning disinterest. Bill was not used to being the smitten one and it was disconcerting to him. The more he had learned about her over the last week, the more he realized he was developing real feelings for her. She was, in his mind, almost perfect.
He watched as she took her pen and put it in her mouth, closing her lips around it and sucking absently. Jesus Christ, did she know what she was doing to him? Every move she made was pure seduction and she honestly had no idea.
"Bill, come here a sec," she called without looking up.
He composed himself and went to sit next to her on the couch-she automatically moved closer to him, thighs touching, shoulders together and pointed to something in her notebook. She asked him a question but all he could think of was how her her hair smelled like lavender and he leaned closer to breathe it in.
She was looking at him expectantly but he had no idea what she had even said. He had to get out of there before he did something untoward.
"I've got to stretch my legs for a while, Hillary," he said as he quickly rose from his seat.
She looked confused as he raced for the door.
"Hey, I'll go with you, I could use a break too," she started to follow him but he put a hand up to stop her.
"No!" He practically shouted and he could immediately see consternation and then hurt cloud her features.
He softened. "I just need a little air and time to think. I'll be back in a bit, promise." He smiled but she looked unconvinced. He knew she was probably wondering what the hell had gotten into him, but he couldn't explain it to her right then. He had to put some distance between them and try to gain some perspective, so he closed the door without a backward glance.
Bill had said to her earlier that he would be satisfied being her friend and nothing more, but it was becoming clearer every day that he wasn't going to be able to keep to his word. He wandered the campus aimlessly, thinking about how he was going to extricate himself from her without anyone getting hurt-it was probably best-after all, she had a boyfriend and she didn't need some lovesick goofball making a fool of himself and making her uncomfortable in the process.
After about an hour and a half he was outside her dorm. Time to get it over with. She flung the door open on the third knock, eyes blazing, and folded her arms as he walked through. She shoved it closed and it slammed behind him. She was clearly pissed and wasted no time addressing him.
"You know, I've been sitting here, racking my brain since you left - trying to figure out what I did wrong and why you ran out of here like this was the last place on earth you wanted to be. I have yet to come up with a reason, and I think you owe it to me to fill me in. What the hell is going on Bill?"
He sighed. "I can't do this with you, Hillary. I can't be your friend, I'm sorry."
He saw her wince at his words, then square her shoulders and steel herself, no doubt a defense mechanism.
"Tell me Bill, what changed between this morning and now? What the fuck happened? I thought we were getting along great, but clearly I've misread the situation."
He scrubbed his hand over his face, agitated.
"I'm fucking crazy about you, that's what happened!" He ran his fingers through his hair and started to pace the room.
"I thought I could be happy being your friend because it would mean I got to be around you, but it's torturing me. I want more Hillary, and you don't have it to give. And that's ok, but for my own sanity I need to pull the plug before I end up heartbroken. I know that's stupid and I'm sorry but I need to go. Take care of yourself, ok?"
He moved to leave but she blocked the door. They stood there, staring each other down for a moment until she walked up to him and placed her hands on his cheeks. Then she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. It took him a second to relax but he caught on quickly, circling his arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him. He could feel her tongue seeking entrance, which he swiftly granted, and the kiss turned from soft to heated in an instant-her hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck to hold him to her-heads tilting, tongues tangling, soft moans escaping both of their throats. His hand rested at the small of her back, fingers digging into her flesh, branding her like fire. He eased out of the kiss but held her close, looking down into clear blue eyes that danced with emotion.
"Did it ever occur to you, Bill Clinton, that I just might be a little bit crazy about you too?" She smiled.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep, relief flooding through him in a torrent.
"Really? What about David? I want to be with you Hillary, but not if you belong to someone else." He was guardedly optimistic.
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "First of all, I don't BELONG to anyone. Secondly, I have no intention of staying with David when I want to be with you. I already told him I met someone else. I can't say he was too impressed that it was you, but the bottom line is, we're through. Anything else?"
He tilted her chin up with his finger and brought his face close to hers. "Just that I'm going to kiss you again, do you have a problem with that?"
"Please do," she whispered.
So he did.
Chapter 2: Back to Basics
“The function of muscle is to pull and not to push, except in the case of the genitals and the tongue.”
Leonardo da Vinci
For mature audiences.
The smell of spring flowers permeated the air as Bill turned off the main road and and headed up the hill toward the the lookout point. It was a gorgeous May Saturday and they had decided to make the 2 hour drive to central Massachusetts for a picnic at the Quabbin Reservoir, Bill's orange station wagon wending its way slowly through the quaint New England countryside as they chatted amiably. While they drove, he had told her the sad story of the 4 sleepy towns that had been sacrificed to create the reservoir, and how the residents had all gathered in the town of Enfield for a huge ball the night before they were legally disincorporated in 1938. The last song they played as the clock struck midnight was Auld Lang Syne. By 1945, they were submerged under thousands of gallons of water that would serve as a drinking supply for the eastern part of the state. Hillary felt a pang of emotion, as she always did, for those who had been displaced, even so long before her time. She wondered what secrets lay in the watery graves of those towns.
The car came to a stop at the Enfield Look Out, and Hillary stopped her musings to take in the scenery before her. Miles of green hills beneath a cloudless cerulean sky, rising out of the sparkling waters of the reservoir. It was breathtaking. Bill reached for her hand and they sat in silence for a moment, basking in the beauty of nature and the quiet appreciation of simply being together. Though they were young and their relationship was still new, it sometimes felt like they were in perpetual motion-it was refreshing to stop and breathe. Hillary couldn't imagine another person on earth she'd rather be with right then and she squeezed his hand affectionately.
Vehicle access was prohibited on most of the grounds so they carried the picnic basket and blanket down one of the pedestrian trails that followed the line of the water and found a secluded spot to set up their lunch. There was still a slight nip in the air so the whole area was all but deserted, for which Bill was eternally grateful. Every second he could spend alone with his girl was one he cherished. They had been together less than a month, but to him, she was the end - smart, beautiful, witty and unapologetically direct, he just couldn't get enough of her.
She spread out the old flowered quilt in the grass as Bill set to unpacking their food - savory meats and cheeses, a loaf of crusty bread, a bottle of drug store wine and a platter of assorted fruit - a meal fit for royalty, especially to the 2 struggling law students.
She came to sit beside him and he popped a grape in her mouth, catching her by surprise. She bit gently on his fingertips as he pushed the juicy fruit inside, the look of longing in her eyes and the feeling of her tongue flicking against his fingers made his cock jump in his pants. Over the course of the last three weeks they had done their fare share of kissing and fooling around but it hadn't progressed further than that-Bill was happy to take things at her pace so he was being careful to respect her boundaries. Hillary, for her part, was hopeful that Bill would take the lead. He was sweet with her, almost worshipful and she was starting to get the feeling that he was afraid she'd reject him out of hand if he pressured her, which she knew Bill Clinton was not used to. On the contrary though, she was more than ready to take that next step and hoped an opportunity presented itself soon - the near constant ache between her thighs was driving her slowly insane.
They ate and drank in the afternoon sunshine, bellies full with food and their blood singing with wine, feeding each other and letting the mood build slowly. Afterwards Bill laid down on the blanket and pulled her next to him. Hillary was good and tipsy - just enough to loosen her tongue and her inhibitions - a dangerous combination with all the sexual tension in the air.
She lifted up on her elbow and kissed him languidly, the sweetness of the wine and his own unique taste combined with the lightness in her senses causing a heady rush which left her unbalanced. He anchored one hand in her hair while the other stroked up and down her back, drawing it out, keeping her close to him. After a time, she withdrew from the kiss with her eyes closed, then looked down on him dreamily, tracing his face with her fingers as he moved his hand to her hip.
"Tell me something, Clinton," she began. "How come you haven't tried to get me into bed? Don't I turn you on?" She took her glasses off so her nearsighted eyes could get a good look at him.
He chuckled at the ridiculousness of her question. If she only knew.
He took her hand and placed it on his cock, hard and needy in his pants. "Does that answer your question?" He asked gruffly as she began to rub him through his clothes.
She hummed in response and began to kiss his neck, never stopping her ministrations below his waist. She could feel his breathing quicken, he was trying valiantly to control himself, but that's not what she wanted. She wanted to make him lose that control, force him to be the aggressor.
"It seems to me," she said between kisses, "That there's one sure way we can alleviate your tension." She giggled and started to unbutton his pants but he was quicker than she anticipated- she was on her back so fast her head spun - him straddling her hips, pinning her wrists firmly above her head. His aggressiveness sent a flood of wetness straight to her core and she writhed underneath him.
"Not so fast Baby," he cooed. She looked at him, chest heaving and eyes blazing with undisguised lust.
He let go of her wrists and her arms immediately came up to touch him-he forced them back down, indicating with a look that she should leave them there so she twined them loosely over her head while Bill's hands stole under her shirt. He dragged them seductively up her sides, bringing the shirt with him and lifting it effortlessly over her head so she lay before him in just her pretty pink bra. His breath hitched. She was gorgeous-pale and soft, her flat stomach leading up to pert, full breasts which all but begged to be touched.
"So beautiful," he said as he drew a fingertip from her chest, between her breasts and down to the waistband of her jeans. She shivered, both from the chill in the air and the anticipation of his hands on her.
"Do you want me to touch you Hillary?" He drawled.
"Yes. I want to touch you too," she implored.
He nodded. She rose up to rid him of his shirt and they sat facing each other on the blanket, eyes locked as he slowly reached around her to unhook her bra. She shrugged it off and it slid down her arms-she allowed him to pull it off and drop it on the grass next to the blanket. Then they were finally, gloriously skin to skin and he lowered her back down, warm hands covering her breasts as his tongue insistently demanded entrance to her mouth. She whimpered against him when he rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb, but she wasn't idle. She brought her hand down and cupped him again, her fingers brushing his hard length, causing his to falter against her breast.
"Hillary," he warned. "We don't have to-" She put her fingers to his lips to stop him.
"I want to Bill. Right here, right now. Please," she begged.
"What about protection?" He didn't mean to be a mood killer but had to ask.
"I'm on the birth control pill. Don't worry," she assured him.
He rolled off of her without another word and stripped off her pants, then took off his own. They kissed again, he lay half on top of her and slipped his hand into her panties to touch her intimately for the first time.
"I want to make you feel good" he whispered against her neck. "Show me how you like it."
She shuddered and put her hand over his as it rested just inside her panties.
"Like this-" she guided their fingers into her entrance, dripping wet and slick, and then to the hard knot of her clit, circling lightly. She moaned. "Yes, just like that. That feels so good." Dip, retreat, circle, circle. Again and again, fingers in tandem until her toes curled into the soft blanket beneath her feet.
"God, you're beautiful. Do you want me to make you come baby? Let me-". She removed her hand from atop his and balled her fists at her side.
Dip, retreat, circle, circle, once more and her hips arched, inner muscles clenching and rippling around his finger. "Yes, I'm coming Billy, don't stop!" He kept at it as she rode out her orgasm, head thrashing and eyes screwed shut. It was primal and sensual and the thought that he was giving her that pleasure had him so worked up he could have come with her had it not been for the thought of embarrassing himself in front of her.
He brought his drenched fingers to his mouth and licked her juices from them-her taste coating his tongue like a salve. She watched him with wide, sated eyes.
"I want to put it in you, Hill, so deep. Will you let me make love to you?" He was almost out of his mind.
"God yes. I'm so ready," she husked in response. Her orgasm had barely taken the edge off of her desire. 3 weeks of almost constant arousal and she needed to feel him hard inside of her.
They worked together to push her panties off and his underwear down his legs and he pulled her astride him, centers brushing. She took him in her hand and began to stroke him but he stopped her.
"No baby, I'm already so close. Please just get on me. I want to watch you ride me," he pleaded.
God, every course word was hitting her right between the legs. She sank down on him with a groan.
"Fuck Hill, you feel amazing. So tight." He thrust up into her to the hilt and she threw her head back in pure ecstasy.
She bent down to kiss him and took over the rhythm, long deep strokes that ground her clit against his pubic bone and massaged his cock like nothing he had ever felt before. She grabbed his hands and threaded her fingers through his, pinning them above him and using them as leverage for the thrusts of her hips.
"That's it baby, I'm so fucking close." She could feel his thighs start to quiver beneath her and reached around to massage his testicles. They drew up tight in her hand.
"Let go, I want to feel you," she murmured hotly in his ear, her own movements becoming erratic as the flutters began deep within her.
"Hillary, shit!" He shouted as he came. The hot streams of his semen bathed her insides, triggering her own release - not as intense as the first one, but no less pleasurable.
She buried her face in his neck and his arms circled her back to hold her close, until the cool air on their sweaty, overheated bodies caused her to shiver. "You cold, Hill?" He asked and she nodded into his shoulder. He reached for his shirt and helped her sit up to put it on while he looked for his underwear and jeans. When they were sufficiently covered, she settled back into the crook of his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She stroked his chest and he her back. Their legs tangled lovingly. Feeling sated and sleepy, she let herself drift off with the spring breeze.
"Hill, Baby," she felt the softness of his lips on her forehead.
"Mmmm, yeah?" Her sleepy eyes looked up at him. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep but she could tell the sun was sitting lower in the sky and the air was even chillier than before.
"Its getting late," he said softly. "We should probably start packing up and heading back to the car." She nodded and sat up, the telltale sting in her muscles a delicious reminder of what they had done earlier. He pulled her back down for a quick kiss.
"Thank you for this afternoon, it was amazing," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled down at him. "Definitely something I can't wait to do again. You're quite a guy, Bill Clinton."
The sun was setting behind the green hills at Enfield Lookout by the time they got back to the car, and they stood, arms around each other as it dropped out of sight. She had known when she got involved with him that she would never be bored, and so it was fitting that their first time making love was just a little bit out of her comfort zone. She loved that he challenged her and pushed her boundaries, but at the same time made her feel safe and cherished. Love, a word that she hadn't thought seriously about before she met him. Now it seemed to be on her mind all the time. William Jefferson Clinton now occupied a space in her heart - one she wasn't sure he'd ever vacate.
Chapter 3: Coming out of the Dark
“The problem with surviving was that you ended up with the ghosts of everyone you’d ever left behind riding on your shoulders.”
― Paolo Bacigalupi, The Drowned Cities
Trigger Warning: Talk of suicide
September 21, 1971
"Bill," she gently shook his shoulder to no avail. "Honey, you fell asleep on the couch again, come to bed." He stirred slightly but didn't wake up, though he was in such and awkward position she didn't want to leave him there or he'd be hurting in the morning. She shook him harder and bent down in front of him. "Come on Billy, wake up."
His eyes snapped open and for a second she swore he looked frightened, like he almost didn't recognize her. "Hillary? What's the matter?" She stroked her hand over his forehead and lowered her voice in an attempt to comfort him. "Nothing sweetheart, you fell asleep out here again and you looked uncomfortable. Why don't you come to bed?"
There it was again, that look of fear flashing in his eyes. She sat next to him on the sofa and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in her warmth. He clung to her, resting his head on her chest like a small child. She was worried about him. "Bill, Honey what is it?" She could feel silent tears soaking through her thin pajama top and it made her want to scream at the injustice of it all. He had been subdued since finding out about his friend Frank Aller's suicide the previous week, but aside from an initial outpouring of grief, he had remained fairly silent since then. She hadn't wanted to push him if he wasn't ready to open up to her but now it was clear he was really struggling.
"I can't go back in there, Hill," he whispered against her. She was confused. "Back in where, Billy? I don't understand." He held her tighter, like a drowning man grasping for purchase. "The bedroom," he wailed. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Frankie. Happy, relaxed, smiling like the last time we were together. But then, something changes and I picture him laying lifeless, covered in blood, eyes open and on me. It plays over and over in my head like a movie. All fucking night. Every night. I don't want to see that anymore, Hill. Please."
She squeezed her eyes shut to stem the flow of tears. He sounded so weak and afraid, her heart broke for him and what he must be going through.
"It's ok sweetheart, we can stay out here," she soothed, stroking up and down his back gently.
Suddenly he sprang up and began pacing the length of their small living room, eyes watery and unfocused. "I should have done something, Hillary. I knew when I talked to him last that he sounded down and I didn't say or do a goddamned thing. I even wrote about it in my fucking DIARY, but I still hung up the phone and went on with my life and now he's dead. I could have helped him," he swiped at the tears and looked to her as if he was hoping she'd agree with him.
She spoke softly from the the couch. "What should you have done?" She asked. Maybe playing devil's advocate would help him snap out of this mire of blame he was trapped in.
"I don't know!" He closed his eyes and put his palm to his forehead. "I should have suggested he see someone. A psychiatrist or something. Get some help, I don't know. I shouldn't have just pretended like everything was fucking golden when I knew it wasn't. I shouldn't have stuck my head in the sand."
"I think," she began carefully, "That Frank was battling a lot of inner demons. But I also think that he was doing his best to appear ok to the outside world. Everyone sounds down once in a while, but we never think they're going to do...what Frank did-"
He interrupted her. "Say it. Killed himself. That's what Frank did. He killed himself and left the rest of us here to live with that. How am I supposed to do that?"
She tried again. "You have to accept that it's not your fault, Bill. I didn't know him, but I can only imagine he wouldn't want you to blame yourself."
He sank back down onto the sofa with his head in his hands. "This fucking war," he whispered. "Frankie was not cut out to go against authority. Wrestling with his conscience and resisting the draft, it broke him. His dad begged him not to do it, but he couldn't allow himself to be thrust into a war he was dead set against. And in doing so, in resisting, he became a prop for the movement, for those who got their deferments and didn't have to worry about being considered a criminal. They lauded him, and treated him like a hero, and paraded him around at marches and rallies, and the weight of that, he just couldn't handle it. And then, when it all got to be too much and he went home to submit to the draft, those same people treated him like some kind of pariah, they lashed out at him and cast him aside like trash. It must have just crushed him," he reached for her hand and she gave it to him, tethering himself to her strength. "But finally, it seemed like he was forging a path. And then he put a fucking gun to his head and pulled the trigger, and what I want to know is why? Why the fuck did he do it Hill?" He was crying again and she bent down in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face and forcing him to look her in the eyes.
"Listen to me, ok? I don't know why Frank killed himself. We can never truly understand someone's struggles if they're unwilling to share them with us. But I do know this, Bill. I know that you, you of all people have the ability to make changes to the system, from the inside. To make sure that no other men like Frank Aller have to suffer or die because of an unjust war, whether they are fighting it or resisting it. You said you should have helped Frank, and maybe it's too late to help him in this life, but you damn sure can honor his memory and make him proud by following your path and making a real difference. To give up your dream in a moment of despair would be doing Frank, and so many others like him, a grave disservice."
He squeezed her hand and nodded. "You really think I can do it?" He asked.
"I absolutely KNOW you can do it. You, Bill Clinton of Arkansas, are brave and brilliant, caring and fair. YOU are what this country needs, in any capacity you decide. Just please don't let your doubts consume you, ok?"
She reached up to hug him and he bathed in her essence. He'd be absolutely lost without her. "I love you, Hill. Sometimes it scares me how much. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, I hope you know that." She kissed his neck and nodded into his shoulder. "I love you too, Billy. Why don't you come to bed and let me take care of you. We can stay up all night if you want, just come lay with me."
She took him by the hand and led him to their bedroom where she instructed him to take off his shirt and lay face down on the mattress, then she sat on his hips and began to massage him. Light, gentle strokes up and down his back followed by the pads of her thumbs kneading the knots in his tense shoulders. After a few minutes she felt him relax and thought maybe he had even fallen asleep, when suddenly he rolled over, eyes flashing with agonized desire. "I need you Baby," he implored as he grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her face close to his. "I need to feel something other than this hurt. I need to be inside of you," he was pawing at her now, his hands fumbling to get her clothes off in desperation.
She stilled his hands and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. "Shhhh, it's ok, I understand. I've got you."
She slipped off her pajama bottoms and underwear and helped Bill out of his briefs, and without preamble, sank down on his already-hardened member. She set a slow pace at first but when she saw the raw emotion in his eyes, she rolled them over so he could take what he needed from her body. "Hillary," he panted into her neck, thrusting relentlessly into her. It was hard and needy and even though it was for him, she loved feeling him moving within her. "I love you, I love you, I love you," a mantra against her skin, marking her with his words. "I'm sorry," he sped up and his movements became erratic, eyes falling shut as his body prepared for release. "Let go Honey," she whispered. She tightened her inner muscles and felt him stiffen as the first flutters of orgasm rippled through her. Bill let out a primal groan as he came, pouring out all of the pain and sorrow he had been feeling and releasing it into her body with every thrust of his hips. She let it fill her, felt it all trickle out of her, seep into the sheets under her hips. She pictured it dissipating, and along with it, Bill's overwhelming guilt over Frank's death. He collapsed into her arms and sobbed the last of his tears into her shoulder.
Chapter 4: Good Fortune
"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?"
- J. B. Priestley
This one went totally off the rails.
November 24, 1971
The Nor'easter had been raging outside since early morning, dumping almost a foot of snow in New Haven and the surrounding counties. They had spent the day housebound, reading in front of a roaring fire or playing cards at the table, but by early evening Hillary was going stir crazy. She wanted out and she was doing everything she could to convince Bill to go with her.
"Come on Bill, where's your sense of adventure?" He scoffed but had to admit her childlike excitement was rubbing off on him. "Look at how beautiful it is out there! The air is clear and crisp and the snow is still pristine. Let's just go for a walk, please?" She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hoping to use her feminine wiles to get him to go outside with her, if even for a few minutes. She loved the first snowfall when everything was sparkling and white, and the sense of insulation and adventure she always felt outside before people started venturing back out and ruining the intrinsic beauty of the landscape.
Bill, on the other hand, having not grown up around snow or cold, had little use for either although he did concede that the first snowfall had a certain magic to it. After that, though, he spent the remainder of the winter longing for the thaw of spring, when the sun came out from behind the hazy gray of the winter sky and the birds began to chirp again. But Hillary was, as usual, very persuasive so he decided he'd humor her at least for a little while.
"Ok, you win! Let's get our coats on and go. But I expect you to warm me up when we get back inside, you know I hate being cold."
Hillary, who was still in his arms, brought her lips to his ear and whispered seductively, "Don't worry baby, you'll be so hot when I'm finished with you, you'll be begging to go back outside." She bit his earlobe playfully and then sauntered away to get bundled up. Bill watched the sexy sway of her hips for a moment before he joined her, and the two of them headed out the door.
The last strains of daylight were glinting off the piles of snow in front of the house, giving them an ethereal quality and Hillary's eyes lit up as she took in the surroundings. Thankfully their upstairs neighbor had shoveled off the front steps but the plows hadn't come to clear the roads yet so wherever they went, they'd be slogging through at least 12 inches of snow. Bill scowled upon realizing this, but Hillary took his gloved hand in hers and pulled him forward in the direction of the law school campus.
It was slow going, trudging through the drifts, but she made it worthwhile by stopping every few minutes to kiss him, keeping him warm as promised. At the corner of Grove and Temple, she bent down on the guise of tying her shoe and gathered up a fat snowball, launching it with precision right at the back of Bill's head as he walked a couple of paces ahead of her. He yelped when it hit him square between the shoulders and turned around to face her, adorably stunned. She threw her head back and laughed at the look on his face, until he tackled her and laid them both out on the lawn of Dow Hall. They were howling with laughter, laying on their backs with chests heaving and breaths visible in the cold air. Bill rolled over to her and gave her a long, heated kiss and just as she began to moan from the pleasure, he quickly shoved a handful of powdery snow up under jacket and shirt. She squealed as the slushy mess made contact with the warmth of her abdomen.
"You're going to get it Clinton," she shouted as he sprinted away. She caught up to him and jumping on his back, forced him to carry her piggyback through the street until he was gasping for breath from the exertion. By this point they had walked almost the length of the campus and were more than halfway to the little theater on Lincoln so Hillary suggested they see what was playing which would give them a couple of hours to warm up before they had to make the mile trek back home. They made it to the Lincoln by nightfall, and with the exception of the old man who ran the place, it was unsurprisingly deserted due to the storm. But it was open nonetheless, so the appreciative couple bought their tickets and filed into the empty room, happy to rid themselves of hats and gloves and jackets wet from their roll on the ground earlier.
They had their pick of seats but chose a dark corner in the back, one where they could hang their jackets and things on the backs of the seats in an attempt to dry them out a bit. They sat down just as the lights went out and the click of the 35mm indicated the start of the film. It was a second run of "Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory" - not their cup of tea ordinarily but something fun to pass the time before they headed back home.
By the time that bastard Grandpa Joe hopped out of bed and started dancing around and singing "I've Got a Golden Ticket," Hillary's head was resting on his shoulder. As the group filed into the Wonka Factory, her hand moved to his thigh, creeping ever so slightly toward his groin. He was beyond thankful they were the only people in that theater. He already felt dirty for being turned on by her as they watched a kids' movie, but he couldn't help it, her hand was getting closer and closer to his cock and she was enjoying every second of making him squirm.
The Oompa Loompas started their routine and she brushed his crotch and laughed. He put his hand over hers and held it to him, rocking his hips ever so slightly against it as he looked at her sideways. "You're loving this aren't you?" He whispered. Her eyes were playful as she bit her bottom lip and cupped him through his pants. "Just warming you up baby. You want me to stop?" He shook his head.
Charlie and the old man were floating toward the exhaust fan in the Fizzy Drinks Room when she reached over and undid his jeans, then stuck her dainty hand right in and started fondling him. Bill closed his eyes and groaned at the contact, but the angle was awkward and she couldn't seem to wrap her fingers around him, frustrating both of them. He reached behind him, grabbed his jacket and spread it out over his lap to cover their illicit activities, then lifted out of the seat to push his pants and briefs down his thighs. Hillary slipped her hand under the jacket and picked up where she had left off, this time without the barrier of his jeans to impede her movements. She began stroking him as Veruca Salt sang "I Want it Now" - he threw his head back in the seat and shut his eyes - his senses on overload.
Hillary continued to caress him from base to tip and back again, making sure to curve her hand over the sensitive head the way she knew drove him wild. He opened his eyes just in time to see her lick her palm then start back in on him, the extra moisture allowing her to speed up her movements in time to his now-thrusting hips. She leaned close to his ear and murmured, "Does that feel good Billy? So naughty, getting a handjob in the back of a movie theater. I'm going to make you come right here in my hand. Is that what you want?" He blew out a breath and nodded against the headrest, too worked up to even form a coherent thought.
Technicolor images flashed before his eyes as her small hand pleasured him in the dark. It was all too surreal and funny and insane and oh god it felt so amazing and then he was coming, hot seed pumping out of him as she milked him dry. His white-knuckled hands held the armrests as she gave one final pull to the head, then withdrew her hand and wiped it on her pants. She found her scarf behind the seat and tenderly wiped the wetness from his thighs, leaned in and gave him a kiss - which he returned with enthusiasm - just as Willy Wonka and Charlie soared over the city in the glass elevator.
They stumbled out of the theater, disheveled and laughing at the absurdity of what had just happened. She could only imagine what that old owner must have been thinking upon their exit, but she didn't really care - they were young and in love and filled to the brim with unbridled joy. Bill didn't even mind that he had to walk a mile back home in the deep snow, as long as they were together he'd always be warm.
Chapter 5: South of the Border
"There is a shade of red for every woman." —Audrey Hepburn
1. I figured out the basic premise of this fic - to take real events that transpired in their lives and find a way to make them have sex during them. So yeah, it's pretty transparent, but hey, let's just go with the idea that they had A LOT of sex in the beginning and then all this seems plausible, right? RIGHT.
2. I did it - I used the "p" word in this one. I'm not particularly comfortable with this word, though some people like it. I'm attributing everything to their loosened inhibitions - and hoping it doesn't come off too crass. If anything offends you, apologies in advance.
Ixtapa - Zihuatanejo, Guerrero Mexico
Hillary felt, rather than saw, the sunlight on her face. Its brightness filtered through her closed eyelids and she smiled, happy to have some solitude, save her traveling companion, after the last 3 hectic months.
It was finally over. The disastrous McGovern campaign that begat the reelection of that crooked, war-mongering monster Richard Nixon. While they were certainly disappointed with the outcome, working with Bill in Texas had been many things: a quick study in how not to run a political campaign, an opportunity to meet good people whom she hoped would be life-long friends, and above all a chance to spend time with the person she loved, doing something he loved.
She reached out a hand and felt his solid form beside her and her smile grew. Seeing him in action over the last few months had really cemented her belief that he was destined for public life. He was a natural who could charm anyone. From a millionaire to the garbage man, something about his warm, easy personality resonated with them and people practically lined up to be in his presence. Herself included. She just knew he was going to make a big impact on the world someday. But right now, it was just her and him, and she was grateful for the respite before they had to return to Yale and finish the semester they hadn't even had a chance to start.
He squeezed her hand in return and she rolled to her side on the sunny beach, squinting in the bright light to get a look at his face. "This place is paradise," she sighed, propping herself up on her elbow. And it was. It was no more than a village really with rocky, unpaved roads and a rickety footbridge leading from their tiny hotel to the beach, but it was warm and the people were friendly, the drinks were flowing and he was beside her. She couldn't ask for more.
"Mmmm, you're right about that," he replied, shading his eyes with his forearm as he turned his head in her direction. She shifted closer to him on their blanket to place a soft kiss on his bare shoulder. Like a shot, he pulled her on top of him and craned his neck, fitting their lips together in a light kiss imbued with the gaiety they were both feeling. She rested her head on his chest but made no move to disentangle herself from him, content to remain in his embrace under the balmy Mexican sun.
"What do you wanna do today Hilly?" He asked, cheek pressing against the top of her head. She snuggled deeper against him and he gave her ass a playful smack before running his hands lightly up and down her swimsuit-clad back. Oh those hands. She could think of a lot of things she wanted them to do to her, but she'd save that conversation for a more private time.
"Can't we just stay like this for the rest of the day?" She murmured into his neck. He kissed the top of her head.
"I think we might get burned to a crisp Baby. I can already see your shoulders getting red. All those adorable little freckles are starting to show on your face." He tipped her chin toward him so he could see her. "Mmm hmm I was right. There they are. Let's play connect the dots.." He brought his index finger up to the newly visible freckles on her forehead and began to trace them until she batted at his hand, laughing. She absolutely adored this lighthearted side of him, even if it did mean a bit of teasing at her expense.
He drew his finger down between her eyebrows and to the tip of her nose, giving it a little tap. "How 'bout we go for a swim? I'll show you my backstroke," he chuckled. She kissed his chest and pushed herself up.
"Race you there Clinton!" She shouted over her shoulder as she sped toward the surf. It didn't take him long to scramble up and after her, catching her around the waist before she hit the water and slinging her over his shoulder like a rag doll. She yelped in surprise but it was too late - he marched them waist-deep into the water, tossed her in then dove in after her, grabbing her ankle and dragging her sputtering and laughing, back to where he now stood. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her damp body delectably against him in the tepid water.
"You don't play fair," she pouted.
He brushed his hips against hers and quirked an eyebrow. "Who's not playing fair?" He drawled.
Good lord, he was half hard already. She felt a rush of satisfaction that her mere proximity could have such an effect on him. She also felt desire, uncurling low in her belly and settling heavy at her core. Her skin prickled in the light ocean breeze, nipples tightening where they touched his bare chest through the fabric of her bathing suit. He splayed his hand across the small of her back and pulled her flush against him, his fingers dipping ever so slightly under the plunging back of her suit and resting at the base of her spine, just above her ass. He looked down at her with unbridled lust and she shuddered.
"I bet..." he began as his other hand traced a slow line down her front...
"...that if I were to check right now..." he pulled aside the crotch of her suit...
"...I would find you drenched, in more ways than one..." he slid his middle finger into her and groaned when it was immediately enveloped by her moist, tight walls. She closed her eyes and hummed as the exquisite pleasure rolled through her. "Mmmmm, just as I suspected. So soft and wet," he confirmed.
"Billy," she sighed.
"Relax Baby, let me make you feel good," he whispered seductively. His voice was rich and smooth like velvet and his finger was dragging torturously from her entrance to the hard knot of her clitoris - She couldn't have denied him anything.
He circled lightly around her clit then ghosted his fingers over the rest of her mound, touching her but not in the places she most needed him to. She plunged her hand under the water and grabbed his wrist.
"Don't tease," she begged.
He grabbed her wrist in turn and pushed her hand lightly behind her back. "How do we ask nicely?" He demanded.
"Please," she said on a breath.
"Please what, Hillary". His words were stern but his eyes were soft.
"Please, please touch me Bill." She implored.
He dipped his finger in her well again and spread the dewy moisture back up to her clit, this time caressing her the way he knew would make her weak. He continued to restrain her arm with his other hand, holding her in place.
"Like that?" He cooed, circling the sensitive bundle with precision.
"Mmmmm hmmmm," she whimpered, her bottom lip caught gently between her teeth.
To the casual observer, they would look like a couple having an intense conversation and sharing an embrace. But anyone within earshot (which thankfully was no one) would hear the soft sobs slipping from the back of her throat as he continued to finger her, and the murmured words of love and sex from her companion as he encouraged her to give into her release. They would hear her cry out sharply when he curled his finger up and swirled it over the spongy patch of her G-spot, then the low, continuous moan as she came fiercely in his hand. One might see her stand on tip-toe to fit her lips lazily to his, and notice him hold the back of her head lovingly to keep the kiss going. They would all observe a deep and abiding love between the nice young couple standing together in the warm waters of the Pacific. That is, if anyone were around.
Bill and Hillary swam for a short time longer then waded back to the shore and packed up their blanket and towels and headed over the rickety footbridge to their tiny hotel, where a siesta awaited them.
Yep, they were definitely buzzed. Bill was trying to catalogue in his head what they had had to drink during their 3 hour dinner, but he kept getting distracted, which wasn't difficult given his state of mind. And his dinner date, who kept playing footsie with him under the table.
First there had been the mezcal with orange slices, on the house at the owner Luis's insistence. Smoky. Interesting. Strong. Two of those and they were feeling loose. Next, they simply had to compare the mezcal to its better known sister, tequila, so there had been a shot of the good stuff, again at Luis's recommendation. He was now under the distinct impression the restaurant owner got his jollies from getting American tourists hammered, not that he minded. The tequila had led to a discussion about margaritas, and suddenly two giant margaritas had appeared in front of them, and had just as swiftly disappeared. Somewhere along the way, the tie of Hillary's peasant dress had come loose, and he found himself fascinated with her red bra strap as it peeked out at him from across the table. She took a long drink of her beer (the last on the list of alcoholic beverages that evening) and leaned in conspiratorially, crooking her finger in a come-hither gesture.
"Just a reminder," she whispered too loudly. "Liquor before beer, we're In the Clear. We're in the clear Bill!"
She leaned back, smugly satisfied that she had just delivered a sage piece of advice. He, of course, nodded vigorously. She really was brilliant, especially when she was tipsy. She was also beautiful. And sexy. And that red bra strap was teasing him, though she was blissfully unaware of it. He wondered if she was wearing red panties to match and he made a mental note to investigate further when they were alone.
The band took to the makeshift stage and the strains of a salsa tune started to fill the air of the empty restaurant. Luis and his wife (at least Bill thought she was his wife) began to dance, a series of steps and turns that sent her spinning away from him and then found her pulled back against him just as quickly. Their hips moved rhythmically and they stepped in perfect time to the beat of the horns and drums. The two gringos watched with rapt attention, clapping loudly and joyously when the song concluded.
As the band began the next song, Luis came up to their table and took Hillary's hand in an attempt to pull her up out of her seat.
"You dance?" He asked in his broken English.
Hillary laughed uncomfortably. "No, no, no," she protested, but he was insistent.
"I teach you. Es muy facil...easy. Come!"
He finally got her out on the floor over her many objections and thanks to Bill's finagling, which earned him a glare from over her shoulder. Bill saw her giggle self-consciously when Luis put one of his hands on her waist and took her hand with the other, then held their joined hands up beside their shoulders.
Luis stepped in place with an exaggerated sway to his hips, then began shuffling to the side, encouraging Hillary to follow his movements. God bless her, she was trying valiantly but it was hilariously painful to watch, and Bill had to put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. She wasn't a bad dancer ordinarily, but having been sufficiently lubricated with alcohol her motions were stunted and ungainly. Luis looked exasperated but he was nothing if not determined. He stopped her in the middle of the floor.
"Mira!" He shouted over the music, indicating he wanted her to watch him.
"Uno, dos, uno, dos, uno, dos." He picked up his feet and swung his hips in time to his counts and Hillary mimicked him.
"Si, si, si!" He said with glee.
He started to move them sideways again, counting as he went.
"Uno, dos, tree, four," he repeated over and over as they danced. Hillary managed to keep up so he pulled her to him again, arms locked, and stepped them back and forth across the dance floor.
Luis must have felt his student was ready for a more advanced lesson because on their next pass he flung her away from him and then back in rapid succession. Hillary's hearty laugh bubbled out of her like a wellspring, and she threw her head back as Luis spun her around and around. God, how Bill loved seeing her so buoyant and carefree.
The song ended and she gave her dancing partner a wobbly bow, then returned to Bill pink-cheeked and out of breath. She flopped into the seat across from him and propped her head up on her hands, smiling.
"How'd you like my may-reng-gay?" she asked, annunciating the last word in a perfect, if slightly inebriated version of Luis's accent.
He gave her a round of applause and she dissolved into a fit of giggles, leaning forward on her elbows. There was that damned bra strap again taunting him from its perch on her shoulder and he thought he might go crazy if he didn't get a look at the rest of her underthings soon. His intentions must have been obvious to Hillary, who was now looking at him with a mixture of amusement and hunger and licking her lips unconsciously.
"I have some moves I'd like to show you," he drawled. "But I'm afraid they're not appropriate for public consumption."
She rubbed her foot up his calf under the table. "Hmmmm. Well, now I'm intrigued," she whispered, toying with the rim of her beer bottle. She took the last swallow and placed it down on the table, obviously ready to depart.
Bill did the same and snatched her up from her chair, bidding adios to their hosts with a friendly wave as he practically dragged her out the door.
They had barely stumbled into the room and shut the door when he had her pushed roughly up against it, hands cupping her face and thigh shoved between her open legs. He devoured her mouth like a starving man, plunging his tongue between her lips and teeth with none of the gentleness he usually possessed. Hillary didn't seem to mind though, judging by the animalistic grunts escaping her every time the back of her head hit the door.
He yanked her dress off her shoulders and pulled it down over her hips, letting it pool at her feet where she quickly kicked it off and out of the way. Sure enough, a pair of red, lacy panties adorned her hips. Those luscious fucking hips that he couldn't wait to bury himself in. In fact, he wasn't going to wait. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs and arms around him, then he carried her the few feet to the bed and flung her down on the end. No words had yet been spoken.
She leaned back and rested on her elbows while he trailed his hands and lips down her chest, licking, nipping and sucking from neck to waist, stopping only to help her shed her bra and toss it behind him onto the floor. He paused at the waistband of her panties and looked at her, eyes blazing and hot breath fanning over her abdomen.
"I'm going to fuck that sweet pussy so hard Baby," he growled as he tore off her underwear and placed himself on his knees between her parted legs. She cried out and clenched her thighs at his course words. She was so wet she was practically dripping onto the hotel bedspread and he wasted no time sliding two fingers into her and sweeping them around.
"Fuuuckkkkk Bill!" She rasped.
"You like that?" He murmured against her inner thigh. "I'm going to fuck you with my mouth until you're begging me to stop." As if to confirm his statement, he latched onto her clit and sucked hard then flicked his tongue against it, lapping at it like a cat. His fingers never stilled. Hillary arched off the bed with a keening wail, hands twisting forcefully into the blankets on either side of her hips.
"That's it, take it!" He demanded. "So fucking sexy riding my fingers."
"Oh fuck! oh! Shit! fuck yes! there, just like that! fucking Christ! Bill!" She stuttered. He did not let up, lashing her clit mercilessly and driving his fingers into her over and over and over, her slick juices flowing out and onto his fingers, down his wrist like warm honey.
She truly was begging now, so close to that perfect release but hanging perilously on the edge. "I need it Baby," she was pleading, head tossing from side to side, toes curling around the edge of the bed in a rictus of ecstasy. "Don't stop! God I need to come, please, please!" She sobbed.
He took pity on her and reached his other hand up twist her nipple, rolling it firmly between his fingers as he continued to pleasure her with his mouth. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers tighter than he'd ever felt before and she howled.
"Ohhhhhhh Goddddddd FUCKKKKKK!" Spasm after spasm after spasm rolled over his thrusting fingers until finally she collapsed with a whimper and threw her forearm over her eyes. Her chest was heaving and her breathing was ragged. But Bill wasn't done, not yet. He shucked his clothes and stood in front of her at the end of the bed, stroking his hard length as she eyed him hungrily.
Without a word she reversed their positions so Bill was sitting on the end of the bed with her between his knees. She batted his hand away and looked up at him from under thick lashes as she inched closer to his erection. He spread his legs and leaned back.
"You want this cock?" He purred.
She wet her lips and nodded before wrapping her hand around the base and leaning in to swirl her tongue around the leaking head. She licked the drop of pre-come from the slit and stroked her hand up to squeeze the tip, then followed her hand back down by engulfing him completely in her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.
"Christ Hill," he groaned. "Look at that pretty mouth sucking my cock. So hot."
She caved her cheeks in and sucked greedily up and down, pausing each time she got to the head and running her tongue around the rim. Her other hand reached between his legs to press firmly on his taint with her middle knuckle and his hips bucked. He grabbed her hair and thrust into her mouth with abandon.
"Oh my God!" he cried and threw his head back. "That feels fucking amazing baby." Her warm wet mouth and talented hands were rapidly hurtling him towards release and he wanted, no needed to be inside her when he came.
"Stop Hill, I want to come inside you," he implored.
With a final whip of her tongue, she raised up off her knees and sat astride him, taking him into her body with one long, luscious push. They both hummed in absolute gratification.
Hillary wrapped her legs around his back and used his knees for leverage as she began to ride him in earnest.
"Yesss! That's it, fuck me with that tight little pussy. God I fucking love you," he grunted. He was so far gone already, he was almost unintelligible.
She pressed her sweat-slicked body close to his and, lips at his ear, breathed, "This pussy is yours Baby, take it!" Oh God, hearing those words from her sweet mouth had him shaking, a fucking hair's breadth away from shooting his thick seed right into her.
She was grinding on him now, rubbing her clit against him every time she lifted up and he knew she was close too, so he coated his fingers in their juices and found her slippery clit with the pad of his thumb, tapping it lightly then circling it until she released a rush of moisture around him. Just then, she came with a cry, clenching and releasing his cock until his balls tightened and he felt thick, creamy jets rush out of him with every stroke.
"Oh, Goddamn, fuck!" He yelled.
He collapsed backward onto the bed and took her with him, neither one able to form a coherent thought, despite several mono-syllabic attempts to convey the sheer and utter fucking hotness of what had just transpired. The best either one of them could manage was a weak "Holy shit," from Hillary as she rolled onto her back and stared blankly at the ceiling. Bill could only nod in agreement for fear his pounding heart might actually burst through his chest cavity and kill him.
He finally managed to sit up and the first thing he saw was her red panties and that goddamned red bra where they lay in a heap on the floor.
If red wasn't his favorite color before, it certainly was now.
Chapter 6: Lady of the Lake
I'm running out of ways to make you see
I want you to stay here beside me
I won't be ok and I won't pretend I am
So just tell me today and take my hand
Lake District, Cumbria, England
Those might have been the most difficult words Hillary had uttered in her young life, and certainly probably two of the hardest for Bill to hear.
He had taken her rejection of his proposal seemingly in stride, attempting to brush it off as though he realized she hadn’t meant ‘no’ definitively, but as the evening wore on, he became more and more sullen, almost despondent. He was brooding, she could tell. And she didn’t know what to do about it.
“Hmmm, I can’t decide what I want,” she said as she absently looked over the menu. They had decided to eat at the restaurant at their hotel, a choice Hillary was quickly regretting. She had been trying to keep the mood light all evening but it was exhausting dealing with the seemingly endless barrage of flippant comments from Bill, whose mood had continued to deteriorate and was now exacerbated by the ale he had begun drinking.
“You had no problems making a decision a couple of hours ago,” he scoffed and tipped the pint to his lips.
Hillary bit her tongue and held the menu in front of her face so he wouldn’t see her irritation and hurt. It was killing her that he was so upset but at the same time, his constant needling was starting to make her angry.
“Honey, maybe you should lay off the beer,” she countered, then realized it was a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. He looked at her, eyes burning.
“Who are you my mother? Certainly not my wife.” He took another gulp in defiance.
Hillary set down her menu with an eerie calm.
“I’m just trying to keep you from embarrassing yourself by drinking too much,” she said, attempting to keep her voice as steady as possible. She had to make a conscious effort not to lose her temper.
Bill emptied the contents of his glass then slammed it down on the table, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Don’t worry Hillary, my humiliation was complete earlier. I’m pretty sure having a few drinks is not going to make it worse. Thanks for your concern though, better late than never I guess.”
That was it. She had spent the last few hours trying to be understanding and thoughtful of his feelings but she wasn’t going to sit there and take his attitude anymore. She stood up and pushed her chair back, then leaned toward him, palms down on the small table.
“I’m sorry you’re angry at me right now, but before one of us says something we regret, I’m going to get out of here.”
Bill laughed bitterly. “You mean like ‘Not Now’? But then I suppose you don’t regret those words.”
Hillary let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m going for a walk Bill. I need some air. I’ll see you back at the room later,” she said, feeling his eyes follow her as she bolted out the door.
Wandering through the grounds of the hotel aimlessly for an hour, she finally spotted a bench in one of the gardens and took a seat. Now that she had walked away from him she felt bereft, mostly because the thought of causing him pain or discomfort of any sort ripped at her heart. Had she made the right decision in turning him down? The fact that she had been so steadfast in her answer and now she was doubting herself mere hours later simply because she didn’t want to see him hurt told her what she already knew.
She loved Bill Clinton with her whole heart. A kind of love that she could easily see herself getting devoured by, and the prospect of that was absolutely terrifying. No, she couldn’t marry Bill yet. At least not until she found her own footing, knew she could make her way in the world independent of him. If only she could convey that to him without seeing that defeated look in his eyes.
Hillary rested her elbows on her knees, chin in hand and listened to the night sounds of the beautiful country around her. She was determined not to let this one thing ruin what was meant to be a romantic trip, she just needed to convince Bill that her love for him remained as strong as ever despite the fact that she couldn’t commit to marrying him just yet. She set out to try and patch things up.
She found him curled up on the bed in their room, facing the wall away from her. He was motionless as she shut the door behind her; she thought he might even be asleep, so she slipped off her shoes and crawled up next to him on the bed, pressing her face into the soft folds of his shirt and bringing one arm around him, the other hand caressing the nape of his neck. He said nothing but his hand covered hers where it rested on his chest, squeezing lightly to acknowledge her.
“I love you,” she breathed next to his ear, her chin placed softly on his shoulder.
Bill nodded but didn’t turn around, though she could tell from the slight shaking and sniffling that he’d been crying. The thought of it tore at her and she pulled on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back facing her. His eyes were red and watery but they crinkled at the corners when he gave her a weak smile.
“I’m sorry Baby,” he said, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I was upset and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair of me.”
She smiled down at him, so open and vulnerable in front of her.
“I’m sorry too. The last thing I wanted was to hurt or embarrass you. I’m so sorry I can’t say yes to you right now. Please understand it’s not that I don’t love you.”
He closed his eyes with a sigh.
“I know Hilly. It’s just...” he hesitated.
“Tell me,” she urged quietly.
“How am I going to be away from you?” he whispered.
She smiled sadly.
“Oh, Honey. I don’t want to be away from you either. The thought of it is killing me, but we will make it work. We’ll talk on the phone, visit each other when we can...”
“I’m afraid that you don’t need me like I need you,” he admitted almost under his breath. “When you’re with me, I feel like I can do anything. You buoy me, make me a better person. I don’t feel whole when you’re not there,” he croaked. She stroked his hair as he poured his heart out.
“You don’t need that, Hillary. You’re so damned confident, and competent, and unafraid. And I’m so scared you’re going to get to Cambridge and the distance will be too great, or you’ll realize you’re better off without me.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at his words.
“Oh Bill,” she whispered. “You’re wrong Baby. I’m terrified. It hurts to breathe when I think of how I won’t be waking up next to you in the morning. That our triumphs and failures will be shared long distance. That I won’t be able to touch you and kiss you and make love to you whenever I want. But that’s exactly the reason I need to do it. I have to know that I can. I know it probably doesn’t make any sense but I have to feel confident in my own skin and my own head before I can commit to sharing my life with with you in such a permanent way. Please, please don’t think that diminishes my feelings for you in any way because I’m hopelessly, breathlessly, completely in love with you.”
He wiped her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and brought her face close to his for a kiss, licking the salt from her lips before pulling the bottom one into his mouth. She moaned into it and tilted her head so their mouths melded deliciously together. So soft and sweet. She eased out of the kiss and rested her head in the crook of his neck and he caressed her back with light strokes up and down, his cheek pressed to the top of her head. Despite their relaxed positions, he could feel the bow-string tightness in her posture.
“Why don’t I run you a bath?” he asked a moment later. She nodded against him and he slipped out from underneath her and to the small bathroom to get it ready for her.
The hotel had done a good job of providing elements for a romantic setting. Candles were set out about the room, which Bill lit, and a bottle of sandalwood bath oil sat atop the window sill. He ran the water in the antique claw foot tub and drizzled some in, it’s warm woody scent drifting through the room as it diffused into the water.
When the steamy water had filled the tub, he went to fetch Hillary from the bed, finding her eyelids fluttering where she lay.
“Come on Hilly, your bath is ready,” he said, pulling her up from her spot and leading her into the bathroom.
The flickering of the candles and the heavenly smell of the bath oils hit her senses and she smiled.
“You’re such a romantic,” she teased, enjoying the sweet blush that crept up his neck in the dim light.
He reached out his hands to help her undress but she stopped him.
“No,” she said. She crossed her arms over her waist and drew her shirt slowly up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside her. Her eyes remained steady on Bill as she reached behind her to unfasten her bra and then roll her shoulders forward so it slipped down her arms and off.
Bill’s eyes drifted toward her full naked breasts and he licked his lower lip then took it between his teeth. He was transfixed as the cool air hit her nipples and they tightened deliciously in response. Oh how he wanted to touch her.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said reverently.
“I hope you’re planning on joining me in there,” she said with a seductive smile and a nod toward the bath tub.
“Of course,” he replied and quickly divested himself of pants and shirt until he stood before her in his slightly tented briefs. Now it was Hillary’s turn to lick her lips at the thick bulge already visible through his underwear.
“Come here,” he demanded, hooking a finger in the waistband of her pants and pulling her toward him.
“Why don’t you help me out of these?” she asked breathily.
“With pleasure Baby.”
He unbuttoned the top button and slid the zipper down and she wriggled out of her pants and panties. Piece by piece they continued until they were both gloriously nude in the middle of the room. Bill held her hand and helped her step into the steamy water, then climbed in after her.
She sat with Bill in front of her, settled in the cradle of her thighs, and she pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin of his back. She flicked out her tongue to catch a stray droplet as it ran down the center and she felt his swift intake of breath. Her fingers caressed up and down his sides.
“Mmmm,” he said.
She continued to trail her lips up the ridges of his spine, raising to her knees behind him while licking and kissing her way upward until her chin could rest on his shoulder. Her hot breath tickled his ear.
“Let me wash you,” she said and reached for the small pitcher on the windowsill next to the tub, then filled it up and poured it gently over his hair. She watched, rapt, as the rivulets flowed down his shoulders and over the front of his body until they disappeared seamlessly into the water surrounding them.
Tipping the bottle of shampoo over, she squeezed some into her cupped palm, then rubbed her hands together to create a lather, which she massaged into his temples and scalp. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto her shoulder while she rinsed his head, seduced by the feeling of the soapy water running sinuously down his shoulders and in between where her breasts and the curves of her hipbones were pressed against the skin of his back.
She tilted her head so her mouth was at his ear.
“How’s that?” she breathed.
In response he turned, seeking her lips and curling his arm up to cup the side of her face as the kiss deepened. Simultaneous moans filled the silence of the room. Her soft wet skin slid easily and delectably against him and the hard points of her nipples grazed his shoulder blades - he was lost.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered against his lips, almost a plea.
They both watched as her hand came around his waist and followed the line of his abdomen to his cock, it’s pink tip visible just above the water. She ran her cupped hand over the head once, twice until she heard him say “Fuck,” then circled his girth and slid her hand down to the base and back up. The angle was incredible and allowed them both to watch as her small hand pumped him, aided in part by the sandalwood oil Bill had added to the water earlier.
“That feels so good Baby,” he murmured, hips bucking slightly at her skillful touch.
“Mmmmm,” she said, biting his shoulder then licking the spot her teeth had sunk into. She was so turned on just watching that he could feel the undulations of her hips against him, feel her short breaths on the side of his face.
“Hillary,” he groaned. Her hands and mouth and the sounds of her practically purring in his ear were pulling him closer to the edge and he didn’t want to go without her. He put a hand over hers to still her movements.
“I want to make love to you Sweetheart,” he pleaded. He felt her nod against his shoulder and withdraw her hand from around him, allowing him to maneuver so that his back was against the opposite end of the bathtub and then pulling her astride him, hovering over his cock on her knees.
Bill wasted no time sliding two fingers into her velvety depths, so slick and swollen with her arousal. His thumb found her clit and pressed lightly, continuing to plunge his digits in and out of her in a rocking motion until she was whimpering and riding his hand. Her hands gripped the edge of the tub tightly as the pleasure continued to build.
“Goddd Bill,” she shuddered. “Don’t stop Honey, please!”
“That’s it Baby. Tell me what you need,” Bill husked into her chest.
“You. Here,” she pleaded, guiding his head to her breast. He ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple before taking it gently between his teeth. Between his mouth and the way he was relentlessly driving his fingers between her thighs, he could tell she was close.
“Yessss,” she hissed. Her movements began to falter when he moved to the other breast and suckled the dusky peak. He lightly brushed her g-spot and she threw her head back and started to pulsate around his fingers. Her breasts and neck flushed red as the ripples grew stronger.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” she sobbed, each contraction seemingly stronger than the one before it. Her thighs quivered around him from the exertion of staying upright, until finally she collapsed against his damp chest. He ran his hands over the tightened muscles of her back, up and down in a soothing motion while she floated down from her climax with a sigh.
It only took a moment for her to remember he was raging hard against her.
She cupped his balls from behind her and licked his neck as she said, “Time to take care of Billy.”
A slight lift of her hips and she sank down onto his cock, feeling every thick, throbbing inch as it pushed inside of her. Bill stilled her movements and leaned his head back on the edge of the tub to compose himself. She felt so fucking good surrounding him and he didn’t want to come before he had a chance to savor the feeling of being inside of her.
“God Baby, we’re so perfect together. The way you feel around me, fuck, it’s incredible.”
He loosened his grip on her waist and moved his hands around to her ass to aid her movements as she began to create a decadent rhythm. Using the back of the tub for leverage, she swept up his hard length and then ground her clit against him as she swallowed him again. It only took a few minutes before they were both whimpering and moaning.
“Ohhhh Bill,” she mewled.
“Shit, so good. Keep going Hilly, I’m getting close.”
Hillary leaned forward on his chest and began to lick and suck his earlobe. “I love it when you come inside me, Honey. Let me feel you.” In emphasis, she clenched her passage tighter around his pistoning member and he slammed his eyelids shut and let out a string of expletives.
“Fuckkk,” he said over and over like a mantra.
She sped up until water was splashing over the sides of the tub every time she fell against him.
It was all just too hot and sexy and beautiful and Bill couldn’t hold out any longer. He reached down and pressed his thumb to her pearl, not wanting to go without her.
“I’m going to come,” he choked a moment before he tossed his head back and let out a primal groan.
She clamped down on his still-spasming member with a whimper a second later, letting out a soft series of sighs as she came for the second time.
Bill tilted her chin up so he could kiss her soft pliant mouth, wrapping his arms tightly around her back in the cooling water to hold her to him. He would have been content to stay that way forever, had it not been for the feel of her shivering in his embrace.
“Water’s cold Hill, let’s get out of here and into that nice big bed.”
She nodded sleepily against him.
Later, as they lay tangled up in the darkness of their room after another intense round of lovemaking, he spoke.
“Hilly, you awake?”
“I know you’re not ready to accept my proposal, but can you do something for me?”
“Anything,” she said without hesitation.
“Will you come to Arkansas before you start at CDF? Please?”
“Of course Honey. When were you thinking?”
“June sometime. I’ll show you all the old haunts, you’re going to love it.”
She smiled despite the fact he couldn’t see her face.
He was quiet for a while and she thought he was drifting to sleep, when she heard her name again.
“Hilly?” this time softer.
“Why don’t you take the Arkansas bar exam, you know, just in case you ever change your mind. It couldn’t hurt.”
Her smile grew wider in the dusk. “You’ve got a deal,” she said and she could feel him relax against her.
“Yes?” she said with a hint of amused exasperation.
“Good night. I love you”
“Love you too Bill. Sweet Dreams.”