Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden Series Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden Series Book 1)
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"This, sweetheart, is also fucking," I whispered, lowering my head to kiss her. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't chaste. I plundered her mouth with my tongue just like my cock worked her pussy. Reaching between us, I worked her hard clit, pinched it between my fingers, which set her off like a firecracker. I didn't need more than to see her shatter with her release to find my own, my eruption building until I was shooting out thick ropes, washing her womb with my seed.

 

Catherine

 

I didn't know what was happening to me. Jake had woken me twice during the night to fuck me before finally leaving me alone to sleep. There had been no resistance on my part, only pleasurable insistence that he fill me. I needed his cock. God! I did. I
needed
his cock. I never, ever, thought that would be the case. I'd heard married women in St. Louis talk about how they endured their husband's attentions and I worried if I would be stuck in similar misery.

The pleasure - oh, the pleasure! - Jake wrought from my body was indescribable. It was as if I were drugged with a lust that I couldn't control. The first time he'd taken me, I hadn't been filled with the cork. The other two times, it had been so tight, and the strangest of sensations came from my bottom as I was fucked. The cork had moved, shifted and I came the second time from the rubbing across something sensitive back there.

When I awoke, the sun was high in the sky and Jake was gone. My body was loose, relaxed. Sore. Inside, where my maidenhead had ripped, it burned slightly. My muscles, even the lips of my...pussy, were swollen and sore. My bottom was still stretched by the cork. Yet with all these discomforts, my clit, that place where Jake told me my pleasure could be found, pulsed. Little hot bursts of pleasure shot forth in a way that had me squirming in the sheets.

I rolled onto my stomach so my clit touched the mattress. Oh! The rubbing rekindled my need. I shifted my hips to press even harder. Yes, just like that. Jake had said I could touch myself there anytime I wanted. And I wanted. As I rocked against the mattress, I felt the seed that had filled me all night long drip out and onto the sheet below me.

The pressure wasn't enough to bring me to that pinnacle I'd felt every time Jake fucked me, so I pushed up on my hands, which dug my hips in harder. I rocked, rubbed. Over and over. I closed my eyes, thinking of Jake's cock buried deep, his hard body behind me, pushing me down into the mattress.  My inner muscles clamped down on nothing, which made me crave Jake even more as I worked my clit. Sweat broke out on my skin and I was breathing hard, climbing, climbing until...yes! My pleasure broke. I cried out, almost sobbing in relief, sagging back onto the bed. The release had taken the edge off this all-consuming need that simmered.

"That was quite the sight, sweetheart," Jake murmured from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, where he’d been silently watching me. Heat burned in my cheeks at being caught.

"I'm so sorry. Please, don't spank me."

He pushed off the doorframe and came to sit next to me on the bed. Thankfully, I was face down and most of my intimate areas hidden. Running a hand down my damp back, he asked, "Why would I spank you? You did nothing wrong."

I turned my head to look at him, to see if he was telling the truth. From the soft glint in his eye, I could see he was being honest.

"You can touch your clit any time you want. You can touch your body, do whatever feels good, make yourself come even, anything except remove your cork. All right?"

Relieved, I nodded and relaxed all my tense muscles.

"I've got a treat for you."

A treat? I smiled. "Really?"

"Go over to the bar and I'll get that cork out. Then you can go use the washroom. I'll get you dressed and then I'll show you. Come on, sleepyhead. Out of bed before I decide to fuck you again."

He must have seen something flare in my eyes because instead of pulling me from the bed, he groaned and just pulled my hips up, leaving me with my head low, my face turned to watch him. "Forget it. I can't wait." Jake opened the front of his pants and fucked me. Only later, after he gave me pleasure again did I make it to the bar.

After cleaning up in the washroom to remove the copious amounts of seed that ran down my legs, Jake showed me a plug. It was completely different than a cork, which resembled a wooden spool for thread. The plug he slowly worked into me was similar in width to the corks I'd worn previously, but it was long, oh so long, perhaps the length of my hand. He'd told me it was to train my ass for his cock, which was thicker and longer than the plug that now sank deep, very deep within me.

Not only would it fill me all day long, but the training began with his pulling it almost all the way out, then pushing it fully in again. Over and over, just like his cock had fucked my pussy. I was, for the first time, glad for all the greasy, messy ointment that was in the pill. Having Jake work me like he had would have been excruciating otherwise. As I held on to the bar, with a hard wooden plug fucking my ass and surprisingly heating my blood once again, I realized how generous and thoughtful my husband was.

An hour later, I sat on the very edge of my chair, leaning forward so the large plug didn't push into me any further than it already was. Sitting at the dining room table, this dainty position forced my corseted and exposed breasts forward outlandishly, a deep line of cleavage visible along with my protruding nipples. They were tight and almost itchy, as if they needed to be rubbed. I longed to touch them, to tug on them to soothe this prickly feeling. I refused to give in to the notion in front of Jake and at the dining table. It was completely inappropriate.

“More coffee?” Jake asked, holding up the pot. Why did he seem completely at ease with a scantily clad woman seated across from him? Was this normal? It seemed so to him.

I leaned forward, holding my mug out to him to fill; as I did, my breast dipped into the syrup on my plate. It coated the underside of my right breast where I couldn't see, but I could feel the sticky substance.

“Oh!” I was so embarrassed. My bare breast had been in my plate of food. The way they stuck out, the way my bottom was filled, how could I prevent it? Why was everything so hard? Would I always make such errors?

“Mm, that looks delicious,” Jake said, eyes flaring hotly at the sight. “We can clean that off several ways, sweetheart. I can lick it off you, I can use a cloth to wipe it away or you can wipe it off yourself.”

I closed my eyes at the mental picture of him licking the syrup from my breast. Would his tongue be rough? Would he suck on my nipple as if a babe? All the images had heat pulsing through my veins. I wanted Jake to touch me. There. My mental transformation from yesterday to today had been overwhelming and difficult to understand.

“There's something wrong with me,” I whispered, trying not to cry.

“What, sweetheart?” Jake asked, all calm and easy going.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I was craving him again. And it had only been such a short time since he'd taken me. And before that, I'd rubbed myself to achieve pleasure, all alone. He'd been right. I craved his touch, craved my own hands upon my body. Needed it. No, this couldn't be happening! I knew it was though, and I had to fight it. “I'll...I'll wipe it myself,” I finally answered.

Jake dipped his cloth napkin in his water glass and handed it to me. Carefully, I rubbed the wet cloth over the sticky spot, the fabric of the napkin all but abrading my sensitive flesh. I moaned.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Jake moved over to me, ran his hand over my hair. I still hadn't put it up; it hung loosely down my back.

“This napkin is rough,” I said, confused. How could the napkin be rough? I was losing my mind.

“It's not rough, baby. Your breasts are sensitive now. This is why they need to be uncovered. It would be too uncomfortable for you to have them be in a city corset or beneath a blouse.”

“They weren't yesterday,” I countered.

“I hadn't fucked you yesterday. At least not until late,” Jake said, smiling at me.

I looked down at my breasts, amazed. “They're like this because you fucked me? What's happening to me?” I wondered aloud.

“You're becoming mine. You're such a good girl. See how your body does just what it's supposed to do? I'm so proud of you,” Jake said. “Should I clean that syrup for you?”

I took a deep breath, realized it plumped up my breasts even more, exhaled. “Yes, but not the cloth. Please don't touch me with it.”

"All right," Jake said, his voice soothing.

Looking to him, he smiled. I didn't have to say a thing before he knelt by my side and slowly licked the syrup off. Only his tongue touched me. I cried out in frustration at the hot, wet touch. He didn't near my nipple, wouldn't take my breast in his hand as I craved for him to do.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his voice all concern. He looked up at me, his blue eyes searching mine, watching me as his tongue continued its ministrations.

“No,” I whispered as I shook my head. The place between my legs pulsed now, that greedy little spot there throbbing. When I clenched my legs together it helped the ache briefly, but only until I relaxed my legs. I felt wetness between my thighs. I cried out, a needy, desperate plea.

“It's like you're in heat, sweetheart. Your body's dying to be fucked. Go on. Touch your pussy. Rub it. Learn what makes it feel good. Go on.” He pushed up my skirts in the front so I could do so.

I did as he said, unable to help myself. It was all so mortifying, doing this with Jake watching, kneeling so closely. I knew he stared at the motions of my fingers, looked upon what, up until the other day, was a private place on my body. Sounds of my wet fingers working this needy flesh filled the air. It was so humiliating, so demoralizing positioned this way, but I couldn't stop.

I didn't seem to care anymore. Regardless of the shame behind each stroke of my fingers, my body forced me to comply to its needs. I
had
to touch myself. My fingers worked through the slick folds, finding one spot in particular that had me gasping. If I pushed hard, the feeling was more intense, just like in bed earlier. My clit. I retreated, worked my way back and felt the plug in my ass, felt how my flesh was stretched wide around it. Working my fingers forward again, I spread those thick, protruding lips and rubbed.

My small digits weren't enough. My skin was damp with sweat, my pulse frantic at my neck. I wanted Jake's cock. That was what I needed, what I craved. Oh God! I
was
in heat. Just like the animals on their ranch. The ache intensified.

Jake's gaze burned into me. He knelt there, waited, as if he knew what I needed but wanted me to say. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I grabbed his shoulder. "I...Jake, I need your cock."

"Again, sweetheart?"

I nodded my head with such fervor it made Jake grin.

"Remember I've got a treat for you? Let me up and I'll get it for you." I let go of him and he stood, went and got another chair, placed it in front of me. “Is this what you want?”

I stared at the chair, transfixed. It was just like the one in which I sat, but it had a cock, a wooden cock attached to the seat. It stood straight up, thick and proud, just like Jake's.

Confused, I glanced up at Jake. "Sweetheart, I've got to go out and work the ranch. I've spent the morning filling you with my seed, but the ranch doesn't stop for your greedy pussy. Today, I need to move cattle to the north pasture. Tomorrow it might be to brand. I'm not going to be here to fuck you like you need. Hell, if I could, I'd keep you in bed and be balls deep in you all the time."

I flushed hotly at the very idea.

"But I can't. So this chair's for you. Anytime you need, you can fuck the chair."

Fuck the chair? I glanced at the wooden phallus. The idea of putting that shaft of smooth wood deep within I felt wetness seep down my thighs. My nipples hardened impossibly further.

“Yes. Oh god, yes,” I cried out. Jake helped me to stand and adjusted the special chair next to me.

“Such a good girl. Just lift your skirt and let your body do what it wants,” Jake told me.

I did as told, lifting the long fabric and bunching it up, but it was only in the way and an annoying distraction. Frustrated, I had to remove it. All I wanted was to sit on that wooden cock and the obstinate buttons wouldn't come free. I finally was able to push it down and off me so I stood just in my corset. Since it didn't offer any amount of modesty, I was all but naked.

“That's right. You don't need clothes if you're in heat,” Jake murmured. Why did his voice always soothe me? Why were his words just what I wanted to hear? “You don't want anything to get in the way of being fucked.”

Turning around, I faced away from the chair, ready to sit down and slide that
thing
deep inside me, to impale myself. I needed, oh God, I needed it! It would soothe this ache. I knew it would. I just had to put it in me and I would feel better.

“No, baby. Straddle the chair. Use the back to hold on,” Jake told me, his voice dark.

Tentatively, I reached for the wooden back and spread my legs wide around the seat. The wooden cock protruded straight up and I felt my inner muscles clench in anticipation.

“Look at that pussy open up,” Jake admired, gazing at my exposed flesh. “I love those big lips and how I can see them so well.” Jake rubbed a hand over the front of his denim pants.

BOOK: Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden Series Book 1)
4.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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