Russ had always kept me guessing which lover I was with at any given time. He could love me with slow, exquisite tenderness, bring me to orgasm over and over with his fingers and his lips before entering me to take his own pleasure. Or he could use my body for his pleasure primarily, mine coming only from the masterful control he wielded. He also seemed to know that I loved pleasuring him with my mouth, always, but never more so than when he demanded it and made me struggle to take him deep into my throat, his incredible length and thickness almost impossible for me to handle, though with practice I was getting better at it.
This morning, he was playful, and in spite of my half-hearted agreement, Russ seemed determined to jolly me out of my moodiness. Pushing me away, he said sternly, “I don’t recall saying you could touch my cock.” His face was serious. Even though I knew it was a game, that stoic face didn’t brook argument. Then he rolled to his side, his back to me.
I thrilled to the challenge, spoken in his deep, sexy voice, knowing this game. Without protesting that he had put my hand there in the first place, I said in the smallest, meekest voice I had, “Please, Russ, please may I touch your cock?” Just saying the words caused me to tighten inside. Fuck the headache, I really wanted this.
“I’ll think about it. Stand up and let me look at you.” I got off the bed and walked around to enter his view where he was now lying, stretched out on his side, lazily stroking his erection. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. This was the hardest for me to obey, something buried deep in my past inhibiting me from touching myself intimately for his inspection. But, I had done it before, and I knew that once I overcame my shy reluctance, it would be the ultimate turn-on. Aside from watching his big hand doing what I wanted to do, that is.
Licking my lips, I put my forefinger in my mouth and wet it, then reached between my legs. “Spread your legs, I want to see what you’re doing.” My nipples contracted at his forceful demand, and silently I obeyed. After a moment, Russ impatiently scooted toward the middle of the bed, saying, “Your hand’s in the way, I can’t see. Get on the bed, on your back, and pull your legs up.” A tiny movement of his jaw betrayed his growing arousal, and I could see the dewdrop clinging to the tip of his engorged rod, swelling each time his fist stroked upward. I would have given anything to take it on the tip of my tongue, but that wasn’t what he’d told me to do.
I obeyed, splaying my legs to expose my pussy and swollen clit. “Now play with yourself again, and I want to see you feeling it.” I dipped my middle finger into the source of my moisture, beginning to pant with the lascivious titillation that overtook me as I performed for my man. Eyes half-closed in languorous arousal, I watched his face as he watched my fingers playing my flooded sex like a musical instrument. His eyes grew narrow as he licked his lips, watching avidly for the first clue that I was ready to come. When I tensed, the orgasm threatening to spill over, Russ barked, “Stop!”
I jerked my hand away, fearful that another second would bring the orgasm that he didn’t want me to have yet, and my eyes flew open to meet his. Stormy blue met green and a flash of tenderness passed through his before they grew stern again.
“Would you like me to let you suck my cock?” he inquired roughly, breath ragged and jaw clenched. The member in question was still grasped in his hand, his thumb circling the underside of the head.
“Oh, yes, I would.” I breathed. More than anything, now that he’d teased me with the thought that I could.
“How do we ask?”
“Please. Please Russ, may I suck your cock?” Getting a bit carried away, but no longer playing a role, I went on, “Please, god, please, may I suck it until you come?”
“We’ll see. You may touch it, and suck it. But you must stop immediately if I say so, do you understand?”
“Yes, Russ. Thank you,” I added, looking at him from under my lashes and wringing a grin from him before he put on the stern face again. Because I had made him break character, he added a twist.
“Turn around and straddle my chest. I want to see you play with yourself while you suck my cock.”
I gasped. This was going to be hard, since I needed a hand to support myself and I liked to grasp him at the root while I went down on him. But he was in charge, so I would do as he’d directed, knowing it would be ultra-hot. Turning, I straddled him, and then yelped when his hand smacked my opened bottom, delivering a stinging slap to my clit.
“Go ahead,” Russ said, “Suck, and get that hand back here to stroke yourself. Now.”
I lowered my head, taking him into my mouth without being able to guide him, since both hands were occupied. It was all I could do to obey his directive to play with myself, because each stroke caused me to twitch and gasp, loosening my mouth and tongue on his engorged rod.
“Put your fingers in,” the order dimly heard but immediately obeyed as I dipped my middle finger in and out, alternating with strumming my clit. He let me struggle for a few more minutes, and then said, “I’ll take it from here.” Before I could react, he thrust what must have been three fingers into me, and rubbed my quivering clit in a circle with his thumb. I screamed with the surprise of it, and immediately dissolved into the orgasm that had been hovering for a while.
Sobbing, I grasped his cock and sucked, transferring all the intensity of my orgasm to my lips and tongue, to give Russ what he’d just given me. My ears were buzzing, tears streaming down my face as I worshipped that magnificent specimen with my mouth. “Mmmm, mmm,” I moaned, the vibration low in my throat against him. His hands clutched my hips, digging into the flesh as he pulled me back and thrust me forward, pumping his hips up into my greedy mouth. I barely heard him shout “Stop”, until he pulled me forcibly away.
“No,” I moaned, “I want you to come.” Drunk with the passion, I tried to take him into my mouth again.
“I will, Kitten, turn around and come here.” The command was implacable. Reluctantly, I left him throbbing and turned around. With a swift move, he pinned me on my back on the bed and straddled me. Russ’s face was slack with lust, his eyes boring into mine as he pushed his erection back to my lips. I opened them to him, mesmerized by the piercing gaze, sucking until he pulled out, and with one stroke of his own hand, spewed creamy, thick jizz onto my breasts with a groan that I could feel deep in my core.
I watched his fist milk every last drop from his veined shaft, spurt after spurt of warm, thick seed landing on my throat, my lustfully-parted lips, where I licked it off with flicks of my tongue, and my breasts, covering my nipples. Though I nearly swooned with the lust that transported me, I fought to stay with him as the last shudder wracked his powerful physique.
It was the hottest thing he’d ever done with me. I purred like my namesake as he rubbed the thick liquid into my skin, spreading it so that it tantalized my nipples, with a look of rapture on his face that I could hardly meet without feeling a gripping spasm inside.
The clean, chlorine-like scent of his ejaculate made my mouth water, an intense sense-memory of the first time I’d gone down on him. Then, watching him come, I had been ashamed that I was surprised into pulling away. Now I wished I’d at least had the presence of mind to direct his jets toward me, to experience the salacious awareness of his essence on my naked breasts. If I had only known!
“God, Russ, that was...incredible!” I said, crushed with disappointment that I had no grander words for it. It was more than incredible, the heat in my core was incandescent, demanding to be quenched. Lifting my chest to entice him with my still-taut nipples, I whimpered my need.
“We’re not through,” he whispered. “I just need a minute, and then I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
Though I’d started coming down from my lust-induced high, the swift reversal left me reeling, especially when he drew me into his arms and began toying with my nipples. The thought that he might tease them with his mouth, when they’d so recently been covered with his own cum, sent me frenzied, my slick folds flooding again and throbbing with the need to be fil
led. Being fucked senseless was exactly what I wanted, what I needed.
A few minutes later, I felt him stirring against my belly, and reached to fondle his growing erection. This part would be tender and sweet, I sensed, though I was still more than willing for him to be rough. However, when he entered me, I savored each slow movement, wanting to remember the sensations after I’d left him. Our eyes locked together, our heaving lungs fighting for more air, we coupled in perfect cadence.
A musky scent that represented us, mingling our juices together, wafted into my consciousness, intensified my pleasure and urged me to pull him closer and deeper into me. As his pace grew faster and harder, my heart leapt with the joy of it. Bucking wildly up to meet him, my legs locked tightly around his waist, I met Russ’s hard thrusts in kind, wishing it would go on forever.
I bit his shoulder, drawing blood, when his climax brought my third or fourth, the most intense of all, though I’d lost count. The bite only seemed to inflame him more. Wrapping his fists in my hair, he pulled my head back to expose my neck, where he spent an eternity slowly licking from my collarbone to jawbone, alternating with nips of my earlobe, and sucking at the pulse point where the collarbone was divided before dipping his head to reach a nipple with his lips and tongue, pulling hard. He still filled me, but his whole body jumped with each twitch of my internal muscles, until with an oath he jerked away and left me bereft. Then, he collapsed onto me, pinning me to the bed and gasping for air.
As he wiped away my tears, Russ asked me tenderly, “Kitten, what are these for? Are you in pain?” His face was wreathed in sympathy and concern.
I’d forgotten my headache, but it wasn’t that. Flooding back into my consciousness was the fact that we were on our way back to the ranch, and there was no longer any reason for Russ to keep me there. I’d be leaving him soon and the thought was crushing. But I couldn’t tell him that.
Instead, I said, “No, but that was so good...”
His swift, fierce kiss spared me the need to go on. He’d seen me cry with the release of passion before, so I got away with it this time. It made him so happy and proud to bring me to that point, an endearing trait that belied his bossy nature.
§
Even Russ seemed subdued as we started on the final leg of our journey. We had a hurried breakfast in the hotel restaurant and were on the road by eight a.m., expecting to make it back to the ranch in time for lunch. There was nothing more to say, so it was a silent trip, with Russ brooding and me simply staring out the windows at nothing. Finally, Russ turned on the radio and we listened to country music to avoid listening to our thoughts.
When we got to the ranch, lunch was in full swing, and we could hear what sounded like a party going on as we approached the back door. The men quieted as we came in, but several called out to Russ, “Welcome home, boss.” He grinned and asked them what we were missing.
Hank began telling a story about one of the younger hands getting backed into a corner by a mad momma cow and ending up seated in a pile of fresh manure, much to the kid’s embarrassment. Even I knew who it was, based on the bright red face on the other side of the table. One of the guys started to say something, but Janet gave him a frown and he stopped before I could catch the gist of his question. After lunch, Russ told me he needed to get updates on a few things from Hank and said he’d see me in the house later.
I knew Janet wouldn’t let me help her clean up, but I was beginning to get cabin fever again. Other than brief encounters with attorneys and being in the midst of strangers, I had seen no one but Russ for several days. I was used to being with many women and children on a daily basis, so at first it had seemed like heaven to have relative isolation. Now it felt like prison. I wanted some female company, and Janet was it.
I sat at the kitchen table and asked her how things had gone over the few days Russ and I were absent.
“About the same, dear. Not much excitement around here in the winter,” she said. It was only mid-October, but the early snows had definitely put the stamp of winter on the land. I couldn’t get any more conversation out of her, so I finally went into the library to read. Russ joined me there after about an hour.
“Kitten, we need to talk,” he said.
“Russ, I’m tired of arguing with you. I intend to leave in the morning, with or without your help.”
“No, I don’t think you will. I’ve been hearing Hank’s report, and you need to know that the men who came to the door the other day are convinced you’re here. They’re hanging around, patrolling the highway between here and Rawlins. I’m not taking you to town, and you won’t find any of the men or Janet willing to take you, either. And if you think you can make your way to the highway and hitch, that RALDS posse is most likely going to find you. Is that what you want?”
Shocked speechless, I sent him a desperate look. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to do what I’ve been telling you all along. Stay here. Let me protect you. If you still want to go when they’ve given up and left, we’ll talk about it then.”
“But, Russ, that could take days!”
“I don’t care if it takes months. I don’t care if they never give up. I want you here.”
I knew that the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave, but I didn’t seem to have a choice. Going straight into the clutches of the RALDS was not an option, and Russ had the means to see that it didn’t happen. I was stuck.
“All right, I guess I haven’t a choice, but could we please try to contact my mom? At least I’ll know what my options are after things settle down.” This was my way of telling Russ that I hadn’t given up, and he seemed reluctant when he answered.
“Okay. Do you know her number?”
“I know the last one she called me from. She moves a lot, though. I don’t know whether she has the same number.”
“You had a great plan when you stole the Prophet’s car and headed for St. Louis without even knowing your mom was still there,” he answered, his tone not betraying the sarcasm his words conveyed. He was right, though. I hadn’t given it a thought until I was on the way, and only half-formed ones after that.
“We’ll try that number, and if she answers, fine. If not, maybe I can help you find her, but that doesn’t mean I want you to go. Maybe she would come here.”
“Russ, that’s crazy. Just let me talk to her and see where we are after that.”
Of course, it couldn’t be easy. The universe was conspiring against me to keep anything from being easy. The number I remembered was disconnected, and there was no new number. Russ smirked at me as if to say ‘told you so’, but did promise to get in touch with a skip tracer he had used before.
First, he wanted to call the sheriff in Rawlins and let him know that there may be arrest warrants out for certain out-of-towners who were hanging around and harassing the ranch. That would at least get this batch of them off our backs and give us room to move.
§
The next two days were among the most boring and uncomfortable I had ever experienced. Janet wouldn’t let me lift a finger, it was too cold to do much wandering out of doors. Not to mention that Russ or one of the hands would have to guard me all the time, since we didn’t know whether the men pursuing me would have the nerve to lurk on the ranch property. And I was too out of sorts to let Russ touch me.
After I rebuffed his advances the night of our return to the ranch, he went to his own room, and his demeanor toward me was as cold as mine toward him. Except for the smoldering looks he sent my way when he didn’t think I was paying attention. He didn’t seem to understand that I felt them as intensely as if he had touched me. In equal measure, I longed for him to sweep aside my objections and carry me to my room, there to repeat the incredible sex we enjoyed before I put an end to it. And yet, I felt irritation in the extreme, as if his every breath grated on my nerves.
I didn’t understand myself, and was almost as irritated with myself as I was with Russ. In an effort to avoid snapping at anyo
ne who crossed my path, I asked Janet to fix me a tray for meals, that I carried into my nest in the library to consume.
It was on the morning of the second day that I finally understood my mood. This had to be PMS, since my period was due. In fact, it was a day overdue, and I was normally as regular as clockwork. I asked Janet if there were any feminine supplies in the house, and she promised to have some delivered with the next food delivery as she was beyond the need. Meanwhile, I would just have to hope that whatever had delayed the onset, stress most likely, would keep delaying it.
I kicked myself for not purchasing supplies in Salt Lake City, but events had skewed my sense of time. So much, in fact, that I asked Janet for a calendar to count again and be sure. But I was right. Due on the 17th, and it was now the 18th. Had to be stress.
On Saturday, the 19th, Janet sent one of the hands to pick up the supplies order for the week, among them my required items. Russ happened to see the exchange when Janet gave the box to me and a look of comprehension crossed his face. His smirk irritated me more than ever, so I sent him a withering glance and went into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. But my period still hadn’t appeared, nor did it appear the next day.
Russ had contacted his skip tracer on Friday, so we were hoping for some news on Monday, and were not disappointed. The man had found my mother, but the news wasn’t good. She lived in a broken-down trailer on the seamy edge of St. Louis, and didn’t have a phone. He wanted to know what to do. Since I couldn’t call her, I begged Russ to have someone take her a message from me and wait for a response.
My message was simple: ‘Mom, I’ve left Bethel City. Can I come to you?’ I was anxious about the answer. It seemed she had fallen on hard times. Having a grown daughter suddenly appear on her doorstep may not be the easiest thing. While I fretted and paced, Russ kept his own counsel, and kept his distance from me. I guessed he didn’t want to feel the edge of my sharp tongue if he didn’t have to.
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