Mail Order Bride (Closed for intriguess)

[Tio_Narratore]

Jake Hollinger was on his way from Fort Washakie to Scottsbluff to get himself a wife. A mail-order bride, the advertisement had read, but there was no catalogue to look through. You paid the transport and showed up when the women arrived. Then you could bid on them to try to get your pick or just wait and get whoever was left over. He was prepared to bid, but he figured there wouldn’t be much fighting over the kind of woman he was interested in.

It was three years now since Jake had left the Wild Bunch; he was nearly forty years old, and a bit tired of running from the law. Not that he couldn’t still run. And ride. And shoot. He was still strong in his nearly six-foot frame, a little grizzled, but still handsome, and still quick with a six-gun or a rifle. But he had found another job, a legitimate one, one that depended on all his old skills and abilities as well.

He found his new career on a trip East with Butch and the Kid. Sundance brought them all to his hometown in Pennsylvania, and then on to New York City. What a revelation that was for Jake. No fleas in the hotel. Good food. And good women. No two-dollar whores who’d just lie there for you to cum in your two-minute limit. The bell-boy at his New York Hotel brought him something new, a courtesan, she called herself. She didn’t just lie there, she did things, things Jake had never imagined. But she did more than just bedwork, and that’s what impressed Jake the most, that’s what changed his life.

She took him on a tour of the city, and that tour brought him up the West Side to the American Museum of Natural History. She showed him the great dinosaurs the curators had reassembled, and he told her he knew where to find more. They were all over the West, in the Badlands from the Dakotas and Wyoming on down to Arizona and New Mexico. The courtesan was smart, too, and she knew that what Jake knew was worth some gold. She knew her way around, too, even knew one of the curators, and she brought Jake to the offices to meet with him.

When Jake described the things he knew of, the curator offered him a job, and something called a finder’s fee to the woman. It was a good job, good money and interesting work. Jake would find the dinosaur beds, telegraph the curator, and he’d send out a crew to excavate in the summer digging season. In the meantime, Jake would be a hired gun, protecting the finds from other museums. Yes, Jake was surprised to hear that these fancy Easterners hired guns to steal or to protect what they had found, but maybe not that surprised; after all, he was an outlaw and knew a bit about men’s greed and jealousy too. And so he took up his new career.

It paid well and steady, and Jake found himself settling down a bit. And with that, he found himself less willing to find his bed and his pleasures in the cowtown hotels and saloons. He figured it was time he found a wife.

Not just any wife, though. He had always been impressed by Sundance’s girl, Etta - well, maybe she was Butch’s girl too. She was pretty, smart, adventurous, and independent; Jake liked that. And he was hoping to find a bit of that, at least, when he got to Scotsbluff. He figured, and probably rightly so, that the other men would be clamoring for youth and beauty; plainly pretty was fine for him, and age even less important. He wanted smarts and independence, though, and he knew most men didn’t care for that in a woman.

He stopped for the night at Fort Laramie; with early starts, he’d be in Scottsbluff in four days.

 

[intriguess]

She knew there was a chance that no man would want her as she quietly packed her bags. Maggie could have affored the ticket on her own, but that wasn't the point. She knew her family would be relieved and furious, it wasn't as if she didn't pull her own weight, caring for babies, cooking, mending, altering clothes, heck making the clothes. With five brothers all around her age with five wives and many children, she was busy.

But she always felt like an outsider, despite the family connection, perhaps because the wives were not her sisters, but her sisters in law. She had no home of her own, no refuge, and once her last brother married and had his first child she felt the pull to leave stronger than ever before. She was just past twenty six and already considered a spinster aunt. She took on work outside the house at first to have something to do, in those rare hours when the babies were asleep, but she took great pride in figuring out how clothing was put together so that she could do it without the use of a pattern.

She had been shocked when her sister in laws suggested she give them her money to help pay for the household, such a suggestion always resulted in her leaving almost immediately. It was amazing how greedy they could be, resentful that she had anything of her own. One sister in law had destroyed her best dress in the laundry. The memories of being treated like a slave or an idiot were too numerous to mention. She didn't bother her brothers with the details, merely writing each of them a letter stating she didn't feel welcome in any of their households anymore and so she was going west so as to not be a burden to them anymore.

She knew there would be an uproar about her taking all of her things with her, as she carefully packed needles and thread. An entire suitcase of tools and fabric that she had so carefully purchased, saved and maintained. She knew a few of her sister in laws would call her a thief, but she didn't care. There was only one purchase that any of them would really bitch about and that was her sewing machine. She had scrimped and saved, especially as her inlaws began nitpicking over the food she ate, she took in work and since she was a fine tailor did very well. She could have made a living out of it, if the thought had crossed her mind. The sewing machine however, would stir up all sorts of trouble, as each wife would claim to have lent her money for it or in some way paid for a great portion of it. She smiled seeing her brothers all coming together to sort it out and realizing that all five wives could not possible have paid for half the machine.

The machine and her bags were heavy but she was leaving under the guise of a move, and so no one objected to helping her carry them out to a hired car. She went straight to the bank, withdrew her money and the few items of jewellry her mother had given her and went back to the car. The train ticket, well she'd been lucky to get it, as personal mail was rarely personal and more than once such items as been mislaid, or tossed for her own good.

She smiled at the kindly driver as he helped load up her bags, and with one tear in her eye she said goodbye to the only home she'd ever known. She settled in on the train, her long dark hair coiled up on her head. She'd always been told she was plain, that she looked too much like her father, with a square build, freckles, and a face that was too round.

Maggie bit her lower lip and hoped there would be a kinder older gent who wouldn't be enamored by the frail beauties that joined her along the way. Not that they weren't nice girls, but most of them were either running away from a suitor, or being forced to leave due to having a few too many sisters. She chatted with them, despite knowing that once chosen they'd undoubtedly end up in vastly different towns. She was surprised at how little the other girls knew about the place they were going.

She watched the landscape change outside and tried to sleep when night fell. When she woke the sun was shining on her face and the world seemed to have turned flat, she heard the other gawking about the amount of space. Maggie pulled out a map, and tried to determine where on the path they were.

Before she knew it she was there, Nebraska, a name that seemed majestic somehow.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Jake got an early start for the last leg of his journey to Scottsbluff; he wanted to be there to meet the train, to see the potential brides, to find out a bit about each before the bidding started, and so he’d have to ride long and hard to make. Time went quickly for him, though; he loved the Platte River Valley, with its history. The wagons of the Oregon Trail had worn deep troughs in the limestone banks before Jake was even born, and he relished this feeling of the past being present.

He probably would have gone on past grade school, he always thought, if his Pa hadn’t have been killed in that barroom fight. His Ma did her best, but by the time he finished school she couldn’t even make a cent in the dirtiest saloon in town. So when he was fourteen, she kissed him on the forehead and left for places unknown. He’d been on his own since then, and, as he felt now, alone for too long.

Early on his fourth day out of Laramie, he saw the Bluff off in the distance. Time to ford the river and continue on the south bank to Mitchell Pass and on to town, on to the bustle of the folks still making their way west for a new life or just to hide from the old one.

Some food and drink at the first saloon, and Jake headed for the railway station. The train would be in soon, less than an hour if it was on time, and he was going to get the first look at the girls. Or so he thought.

There were more than a dozen others already there waiting with just the same idea as him. Maybe not quite the same. These men were all sharing tales of what they were going to do with the woman they’d win, and most of their stories were centered on the girl’s quim. “No more two bucks a shot for me,” one said, “and I’ll have it whenever I want it!” “And she’ll keep it clean for me, too,” said another, “I’ll be the only one getting in.” “A third hoped they’d be told which were virgins: “I want a fresh piece for my money, and I’m willin’ to pay extra for it!” The others agreed. “They’d better be young,” an old geezer declared, “I ain’t paying for a bag as old as me.” And so it went.

Jake was used to this kind of talk, but it didn’t bother him. In fact, it buoyed him a bit; he was sure now that if a woman he was interested in was on the train, he’d have little competition for her.

“Here’s the train now!” one of the hopeful husbands shouted, “Let’s see how good this shipment is.”

“Only the best, sir,” announced a portly man in a wool suit and blocked hat who introduced himself as the “marriage broker.” :You’ll all get a chance to inspect the merchandise, respectfully, of course, before the bidding begins. And you’ll each get a chance to ask the lovely ladies a question.”

Jake stood back from the milling crowd of men so as to get a good look at the proceedings before diving in.

 

[intriguess]

Maggie had dressed appropriately for travel and the weather that was expected upon her arrival. The broker had assured them, that the men would behave themselves, at least until after the marriage had been agreed upon. Maggie had felt a odd sort of fear then, never imagining some dirty pervert who had scraped enough money together for a bride using her body like a whore.

Dealing with her five brothers their wives and the inevitable pregnancies she knew more about what went on between a man and a woman then many of her younger traveling companions. She suddenly longed for running water as the smell of unwashed bodies assaulted her. She stayed to the back, trusting her bags would be unloaded for her. She silently hoped that these young women had a back up plan or enough money to get home if things went sour.

She glanced around and was glad that there were far more men than women, having a choice was reassuring. She was glad not to be young and pretty, or having foolishly shown off her curves, as the men ogled several young beauties.

She was polite, courteous, and unmemorable to those men who found themselves stuck speaking to her while waiting for one of the others. She knew the numbers were to assure that no girl was sent back, but at the same time she saw that same sort of dissapointment as she was looked over. Eventually they were ushered into a local bar or something to get something to eat and have a little more face time. Bidding, how she hated that word, would happen closer to sundown. Eventually the broker approached her and said he'd only had one man interested in her. She was surprised at that and when he pointed out the gent, she couldn't recall speaking with him, but the mass of unwashed bodies and poor oral hygiene, her memory wasn't at it's best.

She smiled and nodded to him, and was glad when he approached her table and took a seat.
"Magdaline Corey, but my family calls me Maggie." She introduced herself and tried not to be rude about staring at him.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Jake, Jake Hollinger,” he replied, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

Jake had looked the women over well; he new what he was looking for. The young ones were attractive, to be sure, youthful and exuberant, though some seemed a bit dismayed at the words and antics men who lined up to “court” them. This one seemed to be the oldest of them all, but not nearly his age, and the most level headed. And he saw more than most men did.

His Ma had always said of him that he had the gift of “seeing the forms inside things;” he was able to look at a surface and see what was inside. It was that ability that got him his job with the museum, after all, where other men saw nothing but rock, he could see the hints of teeth and bones beneath that the shapes and patterns of the surface revealed.

And so it was with this woman. She dressed demurely, to be sure, but the folds and creases, the slight movements, of her dress showed him a well-curved, shapely woman beneath. He saw more, as well. A book and a map showing in her hand luggage suggested intelligence and curiosity, her presence was enough to declare her adventurousness, and her demeanor spoke eloquently of her independence. “Yes,” he told himself, “she may be just what I’m looking for.”

He continued his introduction: “I have a steady, legitimate job, but it does take me away for most of the spring and fall. I’ve bought a house in Cheyenne so I can put down roots with a wife. I drink, but not to excess. You can ask me anything else you wish.”

He looked closely at her as he spoke. She wasn’t what anyone would call beautiful, but she was pleasant to view. A little round-faced, some might say, but he liked that. And her freckles, he found them delightful, and couldn’t help but wonder if they were found in places other than her face. Her slight smile really won, him, though, not least because it seemed so sincere.

He concluded, “I don’t expect you to tell me anything about your back life except what you want me to know. When you come out West, you’re free to start a new life. But I do have two questions: Can you ride? and Can you shoot?”

He sat back in his chair and waited for her reply.

 

[intriguess]

"I've left no debts or broken hearts back home." The word home was said sadly, there was no place she really considered home anymore. "I'm afraid I can't ride, but I'm good with animals, and," she paused chuckling softly, "I don't think any of he girls can shot a gun. I know how to clean and prepare animals though."

She took an instant liking to him, he was different, not in a bad way. He had a sort of neatness about him, he was a cut about the rest of the men, and he had a plan. "I'm a very good cook, and seamstress, you'll never want for a hot meal." She found herself stifling a chuckle. It was strange to be trying to talk herself up to a man she just met, but she did not want to think of what she'd be facing if she returned to her family.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

He thanked her, and let her know he’d be bidding on her, but didn’t look on it as buying her. And he took his leave, saying “marriage is a serious business, but out here it often starts with necessity; I’m willing to try it with you if you’re willing to give it a try with me.”

The women were all then assembled at the station and the broker commenced with the bidding. Starting bids were set at the girl’s transportation cost plus ten percent. He started with the prettiest of the young ones.

“Gentlemen, the opening bid for this lovely young lady is $44.00, who’ll give me that?”

Two dozen hands immediately shot into the air.

The broker pointed to one man and said, “I believe your hand was first, sir. Now who’ll raise the bid?”

The crowd of men started shouting, and the broker kept sorting them out. When the bids passed $200, the battle calmed down. It was the old rancher who finally won; no one could better his bid of nearly a thousand dollars.

As the girl collected her belongings, she said to one of the others, “it may not be so bad, marrying an old man; maybe I’ll be a rich widow while I’m still young enough to enjoy it.” She hurried on down and met her husband-to-be after he paid the broker. A preacher was standing there, ready to marry them for $10, two marriage certificates included. The next auction began as they said their “I do”s.

With the old rancher satisfied, the rest of the girls went for far less cash, most of them for three to four hundred dollars. And it might well have been for less. Jake noticed one man there who hadn’t been at the meeting. He’d bid up the price, and then drop out when it was down to two men. Jake pegged him for a shill, and kept an eye on him.

Maggie came up last; the broker probably figured she was least desirable and he might benefit from a bit of desperation on the part of the men who hadn’t yet won a wife. Sure enough, there were a few who joined in the bidding, including the shill. Jake won in the end, but it cost him $250 on her fifty-dollar train ticket.

When he went to pay, he brought the shill along, by the collar. Jake let the broker know he didn’t care for such shenanigans and that he didn’t think the others would either. The broker accepted $150.

Jake headed to the preacher with Maggie, and handed her the hundred-dollar difference. “This is yours,” he said, “keep it if you stay or use it to go back if you wish. Now, should we go see the preacher?”

 

[intriguess]

The bidding was embarassing, and she tried not to glare at the man who had bid on every woman. The broker knew how to make a deal, and she was relieved when Jake Hollinger won out. She took the bills and tucked them into her wallet.

"I do," she said with a determined smile.

This was not how she pictured her wedding day, the outfit was a far cry from the gorgeous confection in her dreams. She knew this was how it was going to be and smoothed the dusky rose wool dress once more. The ceremony was simple enough and she was glad Jake could write his name easily. She signed her own name without hesitation, and only now realized this would be her wedding night.

"Shall we be staying the night or heading out?" The sun had set, but she was used to travelling at night, but was unsure of what kind of travelling arrangements he'd made, or if he'd reserved a room for the night.

She had made a special nightgown, it was fine white linen, and wasn't good for much but for show, but she had figured it was as close as she was getting to a wedding gown, and had taken the time to work with the fine material.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“I have a room at the Lincoln; it’s the best place in town,” Jake said to her, “They’ve a good dining room there, too. I expect you’re a bit hungry, Maggie; we can have our first dinner together.” He called over a boy to bring his new wife’s luggage to the hotel, then he offered Maggie his arm for the short walk to the Lincoln.

They sat down in the dining room, and he asked if she drank. With the answer, he ordered a split of champagne, “for a wedding toast,” he said, and they ordered their meals.

During dinner he discussed traveling plans with her. “There’s a train back on the spur line late tomorrow, and from there we can get the main line to Cheyenne. It’ll be a two day trip. If you’d rather, I’ll get a wagon and horses tomorrow. That’ll take about four days. I’m content to go whichever way you want. Think on it, and let me know in the morning.”

As they finished dining, he said, “I figured you might be feeling a bit dusty and stiff from your travels, so I’ve told them to have a hot bath ready for you. I had one before the meeting; it really perks you up. The bath’s upstairs, just down the hall from our room; I’ll stand guard outside if you’re worried.”

After her bath, Jake escorted her back to their room and waited outside while she got ready for bed. He went in eagerly when she called him.

He broke into a big smile when he saw her standing by the bed in her white linen nightgown. It was soft and flowed with her curves, and her silhouette was outlined by the light of the kerosene lamp behind her. His heart skipped a beat as she undid the bun and let her hair fall down her shoulders.

She turned down the bed covers and started to close off the lamps wick.

“No, Maggie,” he said, “don’t douse the light; I’d like to look on you. You’re beautiful in that gown.”

He stepped up to her, still grinning from ear to ear, and put his right hand around her waist, palm on her lower back. Then he took her right hand in his left and drew her to him until their cheeks touched. There wasn’t much space in the room, but it was enough, so he began to lilt in three-quarter time in her ear as he led her in a little dance. “Can’t have a wedding without a waltz,” he whispered as he finished the fourth bar of his tune.

As they danced, he felt the softness of her full breasts press against his chest, and he couldn’t help but let his lips caress her neck from shoulder up to ear. He felt the blood filling his organ with excitement and noticed that something similar was happening to her nipples. As they pressed stiffly against him, he wondered again if her freckles went all the way down from her face.

The dance ended, he stepped back to look at her again, and again she turned to put out the light.

“No, Maggie,” he said, “I want to see if you’re as beautiful without the gown as you are with it.”

 

[intriguess]

The bath helped relax her, she was nervous as she slipped the nightgown over her body. It fit loosely, but accented her ripe curves. She was still nervous as she called him in, and went to put out the light, he stopped her and she obeyed. She didn't want to dissapoint him, but knew this could hurt, and the dancing did put her slightly at ease.

She hoped it would be pleasant, and hoped she would be able to produce children. Maggie understood the mechanics but was woefully inexperienced as his mouth landed upon her creamy skin. She blushed the faint pink tinge spreading down her neck, unaware of the way her other freckles beckoned his mouth.

He stopped them and she went to turn off the light again, but he once again stopped her and she gulped nervously. This was it, the moment when the marriage would become permanent, she blushed again at the compliment.

She trembled as his work roughened fingers slipped the straps so slowly off one shoulder and then the other. "I've never," she started to say but one finger landed on her lips.

"I know," he said and she tried to stop trembling.

She knew he had been with plenty of women, but this was different, at least she hoped this was different, as the soft fabric slide down, catching briefly at her bosom. His fingers tugging the fabric over the fullest part of her body, before falling to the floor. She stepped out of the garment and went to turn off the light once more, not surprised that he halted her once more.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“No need to be shy, Missus,” Jake said softly, “we are married.”

He stood looking at her, obviously pleased with what he saw.

“Turn around, if you would,” he asked, “slowly?”

Her curves delighted him, and her freckles...they were, indeed, everywhere. When she completed her turn her faced him again, he simply said “beautiful,” and stepped up to her.

He cradled her cheeks in his hands and leaned in to kiss her once again, a long, warm, lingering kiss. As he kissed, his left hand drifted down from her cheek, his palm gliding over her neck, then shoulder, and finally coming to rest on her right breast. His fingers pressed gently as they encircled it, kneading it slowly, in rhythm to his lips on hers.

His mouth left hers, and began to travel the path blazed by his hand - her neck and shoulder again, but now her chest as well. He slipped his hand lower to cup her breast from beneath, and he began to trace its outline in light caresses. His lips spiraled inward over her breast until they reached the center of her areola. He sighed as he drew her nipple into his mouth and began to stroke it with his tongue. As it stiffened, he began to twirl his tongue around it in a sensual pirouette before sucking slowly on it, drawing it lightly between his lips and then forcefully deep into his mouth again and again.

His other hand had found her other breast while he suckled, and he cupped that one from beneath as well, rubbing its nipple between thumb and forefinger as his hand languidly kneaded the full, round flesh. He brought his lips to this breast too, and caressed it, moving upwards this time, over chest, shoulder, and neck before returning to her lips. A firm kiss on her mouth, and he moved his head back to look at her once again. As he stood there, he took her hands in his and brought them up to the neck button of his shirt. He left them there then, and smiled at her, waiting...

 

[intriguess]

It would only be much later that she would realize that her sister's in law told her the grimmest tales in hopes of scaring her into never marrying. Maggie had never considered that it could be more than pleasant, and was frozen for some time. Her body still taking in the sensations his lips provided.

When his hands shifted her hands up to his collar, it took her addled brain a moment to realize what she was to do, her fingers trembling as she undid the buttons slowly. She thought she knew what would be next, the parting of her legs, the forcing of his body into hers. She tried not to think about that as his shirt landed on the floor.

He had taken care of himself, he was no portly banker, or greasy cook, no he had worked hard and had a hard body in return. Her shy fingers ventured along scars and muscles, keeping her questions inside as she ventured down to his pants. All the while his mouth and fingers heating her skin, and melting her heart.

Her fingers felt clumsy and awkward as she undid his pants, wishing he'd let her turn off the lights. It just seemed so unseemly to have the light revealing everything.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Jake sensed her unease, and her frequent glances at the kerosene lantern hinted at the cause.

“If you’d prefer it dark, Maggie,” he said reassuringly, “you can put out the lamp. But before you do...”

He gathered his thoughts and then spoke again. “There’s nothing to hide between ourselves, nothing to be ashamed of, and if we’re to stay married, I don’t want it to stay in the dark. I like to look at you; I’d like to see you as I kiss you, and I’d like you to look at me.”

He stepped out of his pants and took a step back from her. “ So, before you dowse the lamp, take a look at me the way I took a look at you.” He turned slowly around, just as he had asked her to turn, and, when he faced her again, added, “Ask any questions you want; touch any part of me you’re curious about. And then we’ll lay down in the dark for tonight, if that’s what you want.”

He stood, waiting for her to speak or act.

 

[intriguess]

"The light just makes it seem unnatural," she wasn't sure how else to say it. It just seemed whorish to be together with the lights on. She wasn't embarassed about her body, but the way he looked at her, well no man had looked at her that way and she wasn't used to it.

"I suppose I don't want you to feel bad if you hurt me," her skin flushed pink and she blew the light out. She moved close to him again, allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. "I," she stammered, "I'd like to make love under the sun someday." She was glad for the dark as her blush spread over her skin. She felt more relaxed as he led her to the bed, and she felt so inept again. She sensed he had been with far more experienced women, both in and out of the bedroom, and knew there was no way for her to measure up. Maggie was glad of the darkness as she pulled her hair to conceal her face.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“The darkness can be kind,” he said, “if you’re frightened or unsure; we’ll leave it dark, then, until you want the light.”

He laid down beside her and buried his face in her hair. “I may not see you,” he said, “but I have the sweet fragrance of your freshly-cleaned hair to smell.”

He laid his cheek on her breast and said, “I still don’t see you, but I can hear the rapid beating of your heart, the nervous flow of your breath, and the echoes of your words.”

Now his lips found hers and pressed against them. “Still no sight of you in the darkness, but your taste is sweeter than any wine I’ve ever had.”

The back of his hand brushed over her cheek and down her throat. As it reached her chest, he turned it palm down and briefly massaged her breast. On down her side, then, over her hip, and he brought it to rest on her pubis, his palm on her mons and his fingers lightly covering her labia. “Not in sight yet, but I can feel the smoothness, the softness, the warmth of your flesh.”

He kissed her again, hard and warm this time, and he massaged her pubis, his palm pressing and rolling on her mons, arousing the little pearl well-hidden in the flesh beneath. His fingers stroked her labia, and they spread for him as they became moistened and engorged with blood. She gasped at the touch, and his tongue found its way between her lips to allow him a full taste of his new bride’s sweetness.

 

[intriguess]

His experience showed, as his fingers moved between her legs, touching that secret spot. It was all forgotten as her skin tingled, an awareness of her skin was heightened. She was puzzled over his speech, it seemed odd, but at same time comforting, sweet.

"Thank you Jake," she whispered her voice soft and low before his mouth landed on hers, her mouth parting, the feel of his tongue strangely pleasant. Her shy fingers stroked up and down his back, wanting to please him, touch him, but uncertain of how best to do that.

She wanted to touch his dick, but wasn't sure if that would help or hinder, she didn't want to rush things.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

He kissed her again, and reminded her that she could touch or ask about anything. “There’s a lot of names around for what’s between a woman’s legs; what do you call yours?,” he asked as he stroked it slowly and gently. “A lot of names for what a man has, too, I call mine my ‘johnson;’ would you like to touch it? I wouldn’t mind, you know. In fact, I think I’d kind of like it.” His laugh was light and friendly.

His hand found hers in the darkness, and he brought it to rest on his dick. Back to her mound again, and now his lips met her breast, once more tracing its circumference with caresses and settling gently on her nipple. He drew it slowly into his mouth and played on it with his tongue. He rubbed her pubis from side to side, gradually opening a small space between her thighs, and making room for his fingers to slide between her labia and massage her pearl with no flesh intervening.

 

[intriguess]

"I," she paused speaking slowly trying to decipher the new pleasant feelings spreading through her body. "I call it my pussy, or vagina," the words seemed so old fashioned instead. Her fingers found his dick and the flesh was warm, and she could feel the veins along the way. The tip was even bigger than the shaft, and she touched it tenderly as if afraid to break it or otherwise touch it too roughly.

She hoped she wasn't too small, as his dick seemed abnormally large, then again she'd never seen or felt a fully aroused man before. "Do you want children?" she asked softly, knowing there were ways to prevent conception, even as she wasn't completely sure of where she was in her own cycle.

"That feels nice," she whispered her voice soft as if expressing such thoughts was difficult.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Jake smiled to himself, finding it endearingly cute that a mature and independent woman like Maggie would be as anxious as an eighteen-year old for her first time.

“Yes, it does feel nice,” he said, “and it feels nice to be touched by you, too, Maggie. And don’t worry, it isn’t all that fragile. Do what you want with it; if you hear me yelp, you’ll know to stop.”

“Children,” he added, “I think they sort of come on naturally, don’t they? I’d be happy to have a few, no farm family, though - I do like to move for my work. And it’d be nice to have just a wife, all to myself, for a while. But in the end, I guess what happens, happens. How do you feel about it?”

As he directed her own question back to her, he gave her pussy - such a cute name for it, he thought, ‘quim’ being the one he heard most often out of all the names it seemed to have - an affectionate squeeze and turned on his side towards her. He put one arm around her waist and hooked his foot behind the knee of her far leg. Then he pulled, turning her on her side towards him. She rolled with his tug, and ended up holding his johnson tight against her belly with her leg between his and her head resting on his arms while his mouth met hers for another kiss.

“So, now tell me about children, and about any other things on your mind,” he said as he cradled her in one arm and explored her back, and front, with the other. He continued as she spoke, gently circling over her shoulder blades, down to the small of her back, and over her backside, then up her arms to her face, before sliding bach down over her front to caress her breasts with his fingertips. From the waist down, their fronts were locked together, his leg over hers, and the other pressed against hers, her hand still holding his dick as it grew stiffer, warmer, and wetter against the soft skin of her belly.

He felt her getting warmer too, and trembling a bit. Her nipples were stiffening as well, and his fingers encouraged them, rolling them between thumb and forefinger as she spoke. And he interrupted her words with random kisses, both playful and passion-filled, on her lips.

 

[intriguess]

"I hope we have time to get to know each other before children," she paused unsure of whether that was possible, but glad it wasn't a major concern. "I guess I gave up on idea of being a mother," she was glad he couldn't see her, as she closed her eyes tight to fight the tears. His touch was so nice, and he rolled them into the bed, with a grace she had not expected. She could feel his dick swelling, growing bigger, as her hand wrapped around it, squeezing slightly nervous.

She let her thoughts drift as he touched her, "My mother had fairly easy pregnancies, I'm one of six children." He voice was soft and the sentences drifted apart as she was distracted by his touch. "I've heard them talk about me, when they thought I wasn't around." Her lip trembled, "I had to leave before they insisted on marrying me off to a man twice my age or thrice my size."

She felt his lips on hers, and her fingers found a way to stroke his dick, feeling each bulging vein. "I don't want to be a dissapointment to you." She liked Jake, how he had treated her as a person and not some slab of flesh to plow into. "I know how it's supposed to be, but knowing is different then doing." She returned his kisses, sweet, tender, and innocent, no real plan in how she kissed him.

"I'm practical, and I don't expect a fairy tale ending. Just a happy begining," she sighed as his mouth touched her in ways she had not considered, it was struggle with how good it felt, and what she thought she normally happen. Maggie was not about to complain.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

He enjoyed her random kisses; they were so real, so personal. The two-dollar whores didn’t kiss, while that courtesan in New York was incredibly skilled and practiced at it. But this was meant, this was from feeling, and it made him feel good. He returned her caresses, kiss for kiss, and abandoned himself to her, kissing here and there, on mouth, arms, breast, ribs, everywhere, sometimes hard, other times just lightly brushing, at times even tickling her with his tongue. His hand still explored her as well, pressing on her mound, gliding up and down her furrow, and gently playing with her clit.

He interrupted his kisses now and again with words, reassuring her that the past was past, and, no matter what she expected, that she didn’t have to give up on being a mother, and all that really mattered was what actually was. And that what was was her and him and a sweet, warm beginning, his words becoming as confusing to him as they were to her.

He rolled over on top of her then, his legs barely squeezed between hers and his elbows keeping him high enough not to crush her chest, but low enough to feel her breast against him. He slowly pulled his johnson from her hand, and let it rest atop her mound. He leaned forward, and kissed her warm, and hard, and long on the lips, prying hers apart with his and thrusting his tongue into her mouth to twirl and twist with hers, to let them each taste the other. He finished the kiss and lifted his head.

Looking at her in the darkness, he said, “Maggie, I want you; If you want me, too, open your legs and wrap them around me. Let me inside to be part of you.”

 

[intriguess]

She knew what he meant by it, and the possibility of having children, well it opened a whole new aspect to her future. Maggie nodded in the dark, her legs shifting to be on either side of his body, she wished she'd paid more attention to animal husbandry. She stifled her urge to ask him once again to be gentle. She silently told herself to relax, and felt her heart beat jump as he settled between her legs.

Then it occured to her that while it was her first time, it was probably the first time he'd been with a virgin, making her concerns somehow less worrisome and more.

"Jake," she whispered his name a soft husky plea the one word filled with unknown longing.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Maggie, “ he whispered back as his organ slid between her labia, “I’ll be honest with you: I’ve never first with a woman. I know what to do, but I don’t know how well...”

He was interrupted by his own cry, “God! That feels so good,” as the head of his dick pressed against her membrane.

A bit of his composure returned, and he went on, “I’ll try to be gentle, let me know if...”

His composure was lost again as took her face in his hands to kiss her again as he slowly but insistently pressed at her entrance. He lifted himself up and slid his hands over her breasts and down to her hips to hold her tight and to pull her towards himself. Her hymen held firm against his thrust until it suddenly yielded, releasing him to glide quickly and deeply inside her. His body trembled as he moaned softly on his entry.

In and out slowly now, soft and easy for her, driving a little deeper with each stroke. There was no planned pattern to his movements; his rhythm was irregular and his angle shifting. He responded only to his feelings and her reactions, doing without rational thought whatever seemed to please them both. He pushed himself forward to bring his cheek to hers, and it lifted her hips upward. His johnson stroked the roof of her pussy, and he could feel her sheath tighten and quiver at his thrusts. He sighed, and then breathed her name into her ear, so deep and long that it seemed “Maggie” the totality of his universe.

 

[intriguess]

She tried her best to relax, and Jake did his best to help her relax. She felt him pressing against her and it was uncomfortable at first, then she moved a little and he moved a little, and after a short spike of pain it went back to being pleasant, and then more than just pleasant as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her.

Kissing him was, indescribable, soft sweet and so much more, as their bodies joined under the cover of darkness. She shivered slightly from time to time, as she adjusted to the strange new feelings, rippling over and through her skin.

She could feel a warmth building inside her and was just about to ask him what was going on when that strange ball of warmth exploded outward, and she felt as if she'd wet herself. She was stunned she'd done something so pathetic. But since Jake didn't seem to mind, well she just wrapped her legs around him and went with it.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

The warmth and tightness of her legs around him was comforting as well as arousing; Jake felt that he was someplace where he always wanted to be. Her voice, too, well not really a voice - there were sounds, but no distinct words - excited him, and led him into a rhythm in his thrusts. Her voice responded to his rhythm, and he realized his voice was joining hers.

“It’s like we’re playing music!,” Jake thought to himself, “Goddamnit, It’s the music of a heavenly concert!” He laughed to himself at the apposition as a wave of pleasure swept over him from head to foot and back up to his groin.

His tempo increased, and Maggie’s breaths and sighs and moans kept pace, and then took the lead, driving him even faster. His senses grew very sharp, and he could feel - maybe even hear - the trembling and quivering of his bride’s body. His back began to sweat and then, suddenly, his body arched and stiffened as a rush of blood flooded his brain. It seemed to him he was that way for an eternity, but it was only a moment before his dick erupted inside her, sending jets of hot semen coursing up his shaft to burst out his glans and crash into the back of Maggie’s pussy. Her sheath gripped him so tight that he could feel the movement of each bleb as it found its way out and into her, and he could feel the spasms in her vagina milking every drop from him. He felt a wetness from her, too, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He had heard about women having wet orgasms, and he hoped that was what it was.

His breath and his motion returned slowly as his orgasm waned, and he collapsed on top of his new wife. “My God, Maggie,” he whispered breathlessly in her ear, “I’ve never felt like this before. You feel wonderful.” Then he thought to himself, “and I hope it was just as good for her.”

A few deep breaths, and he rolled off her and onto his back. He slid his arm under her neck as he rolled, and then pulled her gently on to her side. She lay there beside him, her head in the crook of his arm and her breasts and torso and legs warm against his side. He smiled, and asked “not too bad a wedding night for a couple of strangers, do you think?”