by Jamie Knight
Just as the plane lands, I come out of my dream of having her as my wife, my forever partner in business and in love. I quickly get myself dressed, and then move to dress her up in something before we land completely and have to disembark.
As I’m dressing her some, Shay is still half asleep. I shower kisses on her. She wakes up, and that’s when I tell her we’ve reached our destination. She blinks at me, not quite understanding.
“We’ve arrived in Texas, at my mansion,” I repeat. “The airstrip right outside of it.”
She gives the sweetest, sleepy moan, and that’s when I realize I’m going to have to carry her in. Poor thing is still exhausted and spent from all the sex and fun I gave her. I scoop her up in my arms, gently putting her high heels back on her dainty feet.
Right after I finish getting her heels snugly on, I hear the passenger door being opened and the stairs being deployed. I quickly carry her toward them, stepping down the stairs with an even speed. I want her again as soon as possible, and any more pleasantries or lollygagging is just going to get in the way of that. As I tell the pilot to take a break and hang out in his quarters until she needs to fly back, I whisk her away to my mansion.
I carry my girl into my bedroom in the mansion, which is just as Western-themed as that room I rented out, except better. Shay is cutely asleep in my arms when we get there, and I kiss her some more. I take her over to the bed, lying her gently stomach down on it. I kiss her back, shoulders and hips as I do, enjoying the fact that I get to undress her again. And spank her some more as I do. Lightly, getting her to wake up, and also get in the mood.
As I continue to kiss her, fondle and smack her ass, Shay gradually wakes up. When she lays eyes on me, it’s as though I’m her greatest treasure. She’s glowing and happy, and actually snuggles into the firm hand still giving her light, wispy pats on the ass.
“I’m going to take you for a ride again, darlin’,” I say, leaning her against some pillows, and pulling her up on to her knees. As I do, I grab a riding crop from nearby, and test its pliability, it’s quality. It’s good and flexible. Ready to bring her as much pleasure as I can muster.
I pat her gently with it, teasing the curl of the crop along her clit and lower lips. “Kneel up. Hands and knees,” I say, taking off my pants, and climbing onto the bed with her. “Scoot forward,” I command, giving her another tap with the crop.
She gasps under it but moves forward dutifully. I smack her again, telling her to stop. She does, and I immediately crawl up on her, spread her lips and cheeks, and slip my hard cock inside her wet, ready pussy.
As I begin to fuck her hard and fast, I thwack her ass cheeks with the riding crop, one after the other, gathering speed with that as I increase my speed inside her. With each crack of my crop, each smack of the leather loop, I feel her quiver and shake. I feel her insides grab and suck my cock with energy and demand. I continue warming and marking her with it, whispering what a good girl she is for me.
“You’re going to get another reward after this,” I whisper, feeling her cream on me. Her pussy shaking with joy. “You’re going to get to go for a ride on some horses.”
I kiss the back of neck her firmly, giving her quivering, happy butt more attention with my crop. As I feel her quivering and shaking increase again, I unload. I splash and pump my cum inside her.
This woman has got to be my wife. She’s got to be mine not for just this morning, or the one after, but for every morning of my life. I’m going to take her for a picnic, a horse ride. And then tonight, I’m going to ask her to be mine. To stay here with me forever.
****
It’s a little past noon now.
We’ve been riding our horses for the last couple of hours, just to get to the perfect picnic spot. We finally reached it. A secluded place on the very edge of my property with lots of trees, and a small little pond. One of the places they usually take my cattle to graze, but they been put in a different pasture today, just so that Shay and I can have some alone time.
For never having ridden a horse before, Shay is doing marvelously. She hasn’t fallen and hasn’t had any kind of misfortune along the way. Even with a picnic basket on the back, stuffed full with sandwiches and drinks.
“We’ve made it to my picnic spot, girl,” I say, signaling for my horse to stop and for me to dismount. As I do, I immediately take the saddle off mine, and throw it to the ground. I then go over to Shay’s horse, and take down the picnic basket, attached to the saddle. “Now that you’ve ridden both horses and me, which one do you prefer?”
Shay gets off her horse with my help. “I like riding horses and you a lot,” she mumbles, looking toward the saddle I’ve just laid down in the grass. “But I prefer riding you more.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” I say, and immediately guide her toward the saddle. I lay her over it with her stomach down against the leather, wasting no time in pulling off her new jeans I had bought for her, and down her panties. I begin to finger her hot pussy with one hand, while I spank her with the other. “Such a good girl you are, you deserve another treat before we have some food.”
She squeals and cries out with pleasure and pain as I finger and spank her. As my hand comes down on her skin, I notice the marks from the riding crop. The beautiful tattooing left there from the leather, and this urges me to warm up her cheeks more. I want to bring more color to them, as I slip in and out of her velvety, warm center.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I pull her onto me, and make her ride my cock again. With me laying against the saddle now, I pull her hair in my hands like horse reins and urge her to go faster, harder. Like she’s been under my direction for longer than one night, Shay obeys. Intuitively, she slips and slides along my length, twisting slightly so my cock hits her pussy walls.
I blow my load in her before too long, and with my cum inside her again, we finally sit down to some sandwiches and wine, cheese, fruit and crackers, along with some chocolate cake for dessert.
After that, bellies full and cock and balls emptied, we fall asleep in each other’s arms. I’m gonna make you my wife. I’m gonna make tonight the night you say yes to me, not goodbye.
Epilogue - Shay
I awaken to the glimmer of stars.
When my eyes open, that’s all I can see the blackness of night, and pearly, winking light up above. There is no moon, but I’m not afraid. Colton’s arms are wrapped around me, and I can think of nothing more perfect. I’ve never been happier. Here, lying amongst the tall grass, the ancient trees, and the horses grazing nearby, I don’t miss my college life. I don’t miss the classes or the peer pressure, or the fact that my parents are going to have a coronary if I drop out.
“Well hello there, sleepyhead,” murmurs Colton, kissing me. “This is perfect, isn’t it? All of it is just right.”
I shiver in his arms, though I’m not cold. “It is, Colton,” I say.
I wish I didn’t have to leave. I wish I could stay at your ranch forever. I wish I could just be here and help you with the horses and the cattle. Make beautiful babies with you, who then get to come out and ride and play to their hearts content, never having to worry about that stupid old city ever again.
“You sound sad,” he says, bringing me closer to him.
“I am,” I say, feeling big, wet tears splash down my cheeks.
“Why?”
“I know you just asked me here for a visit, but I don’t want to leave,” I sputter, surprised at how sad I really am and how pathetic I sound in this situation.
“Well, darlin’, what if you didn’t have to?”
I stop the tears flooding out of my eyes, the shaking in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“What if you could stay here? Would you?”
“I would,” I say excitedly, but not seeing any way that I could make that dream come true. “But I don’t see…”
“Well, my wife could leave or stay at this ranch as she pleased. She could mak
e her own decisions, and if she chose to say, no one and nothing could make her feel bad or wrong for doing so.” He snuggles me close, kissing me on my lips. “ ‘specially her husband.”
Wife? Husband? Is he asking me to marry him? In the starlit darkness, my heart thuds in my rib cage.
He feels me trembling. He must feel my heartbeat too, because he adds, “That is, if you want to. But you’d have to marry me, be my beautiful, rainbow-haired wife for the rest of your life.” He brings me closer, and I don’t even have to think about my answer. I already know it from the bottom of my soul.
“I will marry you,” I say, feeling my excitement churning out more tears, “Oh my God, yes! I was born for this ranch, not that damn city!”
“Wonderful!”
Colton kisses me deeper than he ever has. In that one all-consuming case, I feel myself being drawn up off the grass, and toward a fence post. Something I can barely see in the dark, but Colton seems to know like the back of his hand.
“Let’s celebrate, my wife-to be!”
As “celebrate” echoes in the air, I hear him slipping off his belt. I feel him gathering my wrists and wrapping them around a part of the post directly after. As “to be” sounds in the air, I feel the belt wrap around my wrists, affixing them to the post. Colton’s rough hands orchestrate the movement deftly, before leaving to grab and tear off my clothes.
As my new shirt rips and splits away from its tight threads, I gasp in anticipation of being taken, and in the cold air. My bra and panties come next, ripped right off me. And now I’m completely exposed, and shivering. I know Colton can hear me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up with a bit of attention from this whip, wife.”
As he says that, I hear the whip in question moving along at the ground. The tale of it, preparing to meet me. I tighten excitedly, waiting. And then it comes, the first strike. It’s delicious, the way the leather slaps my ass. It sparks sensations into my skin.
After the one strike, there are many, many more. Each one coming across my buttocks, and the upper part of my back, is enough to have pleasure seeping from my pussy. I moan and yip under his further attention, finding myself begging for him. His thick, hard cock.
“Please, Colton,” I whine, as he continues to warm my ass with the whip. “I want you inside me. I want your thick dick buried as far as it can go!”
I stick my ass out at him. At this, I get one more blistering strike with the whip, before I feel him grabbing and spreading me.
“What my little lady wants, she gets,” he says, and plunges inside my hot, wet pussy.
The feeling of his length and girth is even more pleasurable than I remembered, and I cry out against it. I almost tear up from the goodness of it, of him.
“That will always be the case, my darlin’,” he continues.
Under this, he’s pounding me fast but tenderly. Strong but calculated, slipping and moving as though he’s my dance partner, not a wild animal.
I lean forward, eager to accommodate him. I spread my legs apart for him. He growls softly, pounding me harder. As he does, I hear him say, “You and I will make beautiful babies.”
And it’s perfect.
I got everything I ever wanted and didn’t know I needed.
THE END
Masking His Virgin
Club Lush Book 4
Copyright © 2019
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
Chapter One - Karen
It all started as a celebration. A party for one of my best friends at NYU, Melissa. It’s her twenty-first birthday — a milestone I hit a few months before. So far, the night has proven to be unusual. We’ve gone from one dance club to what appears to be a sex club, Club Lush. A place we shouldn’t be, but we are and now I want to experience all of it…to the fullest.
Seated on the other side of Shay, my roommate, as I am, in a booth near the dance floor, I’m anxious already. I run my hand down the side of my head feeling the wisps of my pixy cut, my short, bright red hair. Ever since we set foot in this sexy club, I’ve wanted to get going, get exploring, and lose my virginity to some hot, wealthy guy.
While I would rather be doing anything else other than sitting here with my friends, waiting for Miss nineteen forties Blond Bombshell — who says she is the owner, Lady White — to finish talking to us, I can at least take comfort in knowing I look like I belong here. Unlike the rest of my girlfriends, I bothered to get my hair styled and colored on the off chance that we’d actually party. I’m also wearing dark and revealing clothes. A skirt and cropped top made of see-through black nylon-like fabric, edged in baby-pink satin, and decorated in sequins.
We’re supposed to be here celebrating her birthday, but it looks like Melissa is going to ditch us. I just know it. She is too shy for anything fun like this. In the time that it’s taken me to pull a tube of lip gloss from my clutch, that’s enough time for Melissa to do just as I’ve guessed she would — run the hell away. There she goes. And just as that woman’s starting to explain the rules of the club.
I roll my eyes at Shea, putting the lip glass on and puckering my lips together. “Looks like we’ve got a runner.”
“Looks like it,” Shea whispers back, trying not to distract from what’s going on around the table. Namely the fact that Bombshell has introduced herself as Lady White, owner and proprietor of the club we find ourselves in. She’s just told us that we should participate actively tonight if we wish to stay.
Since we arrived, I’ve had my eye on the various walls and stages displaying people in various states of bondage and ecstasy. I have every intention of experiencing something new and interesting here. Being a creative person, a painter, I’ve developed a taste for the unique and the uncanny. My love of art is something I got from my parents who are both successful painters. Because of them I go seeking new and wonderful experiences. I want the loss of my virginity to go the same way. I also want to soak up as much of this “scene” as I can, so I have something to take back with me and immortalize on a canvas.
Violently disturbing my fantasies — my plans for my one and only night in someplace so wild — my thoughts are interrupted by Britney and her noobish question. “What kind of activities?” She pauses, then adds, “Sexual, obviously, but what exactly do we have to participate in?”
“You could be someone’s pet,” answers Lady White. “You could be someone’s toy.” She pauses, gesturing to an area where people are strapped to walls, and there are tables full of gadgets waiting to be used on them. “You could even be someone’s prisoner, if that kind of thing suits you. Either way, you will be required to serve and submit to the club members already present, until you become members, or you show yourselves to be competent in more dominant roles.”
Britney looks as though she’s finally got more answers than questions and some risk she wants to take, some theory she wants to test — she’s that kind of girl. An odd mix of stylish, and bookish. Dark brown hair looking like it’s something out of a seventies cartoon, and boxy, trendy glasses, she’s someone I don’t hang out with a lot. I would love to paint her sometime, but I like to do nudes, and she hasn’t taken me up on my offer. “I see,” she says, “I think I have some ideas now.”
It seems everyone else does as well, because, the moment Lady White wonders away from our booth, after wishing us good luck for us ourselves and our evening, we all immediately disperse. Becky goes off into the crowd somewhere. Samantha heads straight for the bar nearby, and I immediately get up to go look more closely at the dungeon walls and stages.
At least, that’s what I think I’m going to go do, until Shay grabs my arm like a fucking life raft. She acts like she and everyone else is going to drown without me. “Karen! Stay here!” She implores me, before looking at the rest of the girls with just as much fear and anxiety. “Remember the buddy system, ladies! Pair off and stick together! Don’
t get separated unless you know what each other is up to, or who they’re going with!”
I don’t even need to see inside her head to know the kind of catastrophizing she’s doing. After being her roommate for nearly two years, I know what goes on in that dark, anxious head of hers.
“Would you relax?” I say, sticking my lip gloss back in my clutch and freeing my other wrist from her death grip. “If you want to be a mother, go join the Girl Scouts. This is a sex club, and I want to have fun. You should too.” I squint at her, hoping she knows I mean it. “You would if you didn’t try to control everything.” With that, I get up and wander across the dance floor toward my objects of interest.
I study the stages and walls, and the people being strapped (or already strapped) to them, beginning to be pleasured and dominated by their partners. Indeed, there are black, velvet trimmed carts near the center of every stage, the edge of every wall, stuffed full of various toys, clips, and gadgets designed to inflict exquisite pleasure and pain.
My excitement increases the more I look at and study everything. It’s not just pleasing on a sexual level; my artistic side is hard and happy as well. She drinks in every detail, every shimmer and shine of cuffs, chains, nipple clips, high-end vibrators and dark, edgy whips. Everything that comes under my eyes, I commit it to memory. I absorb it, allowing my pussy to warm and clench. I imagine the paints I am going to be splashing across the canvas.
I continue my tour of everything on the stages and the decorated walls, enjoying the way the rainbow lights ripple and shine off of everything. People writhe and gasp in and out of masks, and from behind ball gags. I want to commit their faces to memory as well. Their looks of ecstasy, the way their bodies are tight and loose against the restraints. I lick my lips, wondering just how these faces and bodies are going to change when they release. When they get all the pleasure they came for.