Do you know what it’s like to ache for something you’ve never experienced? To want a love, a passion you’ve only read about? A freedom that may not even be possible, but you want it, you want it, you want it.

~~~
Anne’s body ached from bumping around in the wagon the past month. It was a trail all right, though a smooth one it was not. The Oregon trail promised to lead to opportunity, escape from city life, a fresh start.

Every jolt of the wagon sent spasms through her cunt. Stop thinking about your cunt, stop it! But the more she tried not to think about it, the wetter she became. There wasn’t much to occupy her mind, so she tried to focus on the scenery.

The open land, not a tree in sight for miles, was enough to drive any tree-appreciating person insane. That, and the dry air she still wasn’t used to. So this was the Wild Wild West. There was a certain beauty to it, though, the golden grasses, the shades of clay-colored rock.

Her thoughts drifted back to her cunt, her husband’s festering seed within her, spawning a demon for all she knew. Anne never wanted kids, but it seemed to be her only option. At least it was her only option back in Philadelphia.

She could see it so clearly, thirty years old with four kids (at least). Everything would be about the house, the family. And when she lay down in bed at night the man next to her wouldn’t even appreciate all she sacrificed. She knew there was more for her out west.

She didn’t want to have a baby, and definitely not with him, the cold, distant man who sat in front of her, guiding the horses. And maybe she didn’t have to.

The thought alone filled her with joy. She let her hand creep up the underside of her skirt and let her fingers find the dripping cunt she couldn’t get her mind off of. She didn’t have to work hard for all the rocking and jostling of the wagon. Soon she was gasping and panting, gripping the edge of the seat.

“Did you say something, darling?” her husband called back from his position at the head of the wagon.

“No, everything’s fine here!” her voice was higher and breathier than usual but he wouldn’t notice. He never did.

~~~

Anne stepped up to the saloon, her shoes caked with dust but otherwise looking every bit the lady she was. Though exhausted, she carried herself shoulders back, chest proud.

She nodded her head at the prostitutes standing outside. A respectable profession if not for her. No, she was a lady. And she intended to keep her dignity, she thought as she pushed open the door.

Brushing her wavy auburn tresses behind her ears, she saw her target. Dressed more finely than the other patrons of this establishment, he sat at the far end of the bar, deep in thought. He had the same type of hat as the men gambling at the tables, but his was a better quality, less shabby, as was his coat.

She ignored the atrocious deer heads on the wall and proceeded to the end of the bar.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked innocently. She knew it was not. None of the seats at the bar were taken except for the man’s.

“No. You can sit there,” he answered, barely looking up from his spot on the wall he’d been fixated on. “What can I get you? Whisky?”

“Oh, I don’t really drink.” Lies.

“We’ll take another whisky for the lady.”

Well, this man was certainly bold. She’d have to get to the point.

“Traveling alone?” he asked.

“Yes, my wagon got destroyed crossing a river. My family didn’t make it.”The info she omitted was that she had a husband. Had being past tense. Not anymore.

~~~

It happened when they got to the river. It was nearly dark and they could have stopped for the night before crossing, but being the stubborn man that he was, her husband insisted they push on. The river didn’t seem especially deep from the edge, but as they traversed, it became apparent that this was no easy feat. Water started sleeping in the bottom of the wagon, the horses reared back, but her husband kept urging them on.

“Might have been better to just go around the river,” she said.

“Are you seriously challenging me right now?” he said, teeth clenched, vein sticking out in his neck. There were so many things she wanted to say in that moment but instead, she just said

“No.”

“I’m the boss and the sooner you learn it the easier time you’re going to have. Now get out and help me push this thing.”

She waded into the water with him. They pushed the wagon until she was waist deep and couldn’t push anymore.

“I can’t do this,” she gasped, practically treading water. “Maybe we leave the wagon and just take the horses.” He gave her the look of death. Not only was he tired, he was seething from the frustration of this journey.

“Do you ever just think? Do you ever just think for a second-“ and that was when she did it. She grabbed him before he could think and shoved him into the river. She couldn’t afford to fuck this up. She held him under the water until she felt the life drain out of him. He was stronger than her and fought back, but she had something better than strength: determination.

She left his body in the river. Really, it was the perfect alibi. He died on the trail, didn’t make it. He drowned. No one would investigate. She quickly gathered a small bag and detached the horses, leaving the wagon with the rest of their life behind.

She knew enough about how to ride the horses from watching her husband. It was pretty intuitive, and she found she liked the feel of the slight breeze in her hair. She gripped her legs together, leaned back, and howled.

~~~

“Why don’t you hitch a ride back then?” he asked. Good point, unnamed man. Why don’t I?

“I was hoping to find work here, maybe at the Pony Express.”

He laughed, for the first time, seeming truly entertained. His eyes crinkled and he leaned back in his seat.

“They don’t take women at the station or as a rider,” he said. “But there’s a cafe across the street for the riders, maybe they’ll take you there.”

Cafe wench. Not a bad option. But that still leaves the issue of a roof over her head.

“I was also hoping to find a room for rent.”

“It’s dangerous out here for a lady. Bad things have happened to girls like you alone in these parts.” His eyes flashed dark. “What’s your name?”

“Anne.”

“Charlie. Nice to meet you. There’s a lodging house in town but that’s no place for a lady the likes of yourself.”

Anne fought one corner of her mouth from curling. She returned it to her innocent slightly parted lips. He continued, “But I’d be happy to give you the guest room in my house until you figure something out.”

Anne cast her eyes down submissively.

“I’d be ever so grateful if you were to help,” she replied. She trusted him. Maybe it was the way his eyes crinkled, how he spoke, the way he dressed, but she trusted him. The bartender, who’d been silent up until now, spoke.

“You don’t have to worry about him sacrificing your virtue. The man’s got no interest in women. I’ve seen him in action. Many a lass will come in and he doesn’t return their flirtations never mind leave with one.”

“Is this true?” Anne asked Charlie.

“I just like to keep to myself generally,” he replied.

They left soon after, Anne riding her horse behind his. What was she doing going home with this man, a stranger? Another decision in a long line of questionable decisions.

Anne wasn’t naive enough to think she was going to get by without a man. Women didn’t have many options it seemed, even in this strange new land with seemingly different rules. She shuddered to think what may have become of her had she stayed at the lodging house.

Soon they arrived at a house on the outskirts of town. It had a large main room with a door to another room on the lower level (Charlie’s room) and a small lofted room up a ladder.

“Loft’s all yours,” he said gruffly and set about lighting the fire and fixing dinner.

At dinner, Anne tried to get some information out of the man.

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” she said.

“There’s not much to tell, really. I came here alone, to seek my fortune like many others. I dig for gold during the day and take odd jobs here and there. Try to help out a neighbor when I can.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she replied.

“I have one rule while you’re under my roof. You’re not to leave at night. It’s not safe out there.”

Now Anne didn’t come this far to be bossed around by another man, although a devilishly handsome one at that. So she took his words with a grain of salt. She’d do as she pleased. This was the Wild West and the rules didn’t apply. At least, that’s what she’d heard. But she nodded in faux agreement.

After dinner, she retired to her lofted chamber. Charlie played his guitar by the fire and Anne fell asleep to his strumming. But she was awakened soon after by a door closing and then the sound of horse hooves clopping away. She looked out the small window of the loft and saw him riding off. But where would he go? And why?

She snuck down the ladder, the fire still burning low enough to emit some light. She told herself she was just getting a glass of water, but her curiosity got the better of her so she lit a candle and opened the door to Charlie’s room. No wall of shotguns, no skinned animals, the room seemed rather plain.

But then she saw the closet. Stop yourself, Anne, have one sliver of self-control. But she did not have a sliver of self-control. And so she opened the door and was practically hit on the head with the floor to ceiling tumbling piles of cash. That, and hordes of jewelry a man like him had no purpose for.

She quickly shoved the money back in the closet and shut the door. She climbed back up the ladder and tried to sleep. But she was haunted by images of Charlie, riding off into the night with stolen goods, cackling.

Eventually, she fell into a deep sleep, but woke to the door opening. It must be Charlie, it must, she thought. The alternative was too much to consider. But sure enough, it was him. He climbed up the ladder to check on his “sleeping” beauty, and couldn’t help himself. He took off his pants and snuggled up next to her in bed, careful not to wake her. Still delirious off the high of robbery, he planted small kisses upon her neck. Her nightgown was loose and he was able to slip a hand up the underside of it. He pulled himself closer to her and slowly stroked her naked body. Her skin was so soft and smooth. She responded by arching her back and letting out a little moan. He pulled back, but she still seemed to be asleep, so he continued, this time grabbing at one of her buttcheeks, kneading it softly. She stirred but her eyes stayed shut. He moved his hand over her belly and up to her breast. It fit in the palm of his hand. He skimmed his fingers over a nipple, making her writhe. He stopped, making sure her eyes were still closed, then slipped his erect cock between her legs and luxuriated at her damp entrance before pushing himself in.

At this point, Anne was clearly awake, but enjoying herself far too much to make him stop. She pushed back against him and savored the full feeling of him inside her.

Anne was no innocent, but the sex with her late (single-tear) husband was never like this. He would thrust lazily for a few minutes before tensing and quickening his pace only to leave Anne wishing for more. She’d usually finish herself off on her own.

Furthermore, Charlie had no clue whether her “virtue had been taken” or not, and he didn’t seem to care. For all he knew, this was her first time.

When he came, he pulled out and spilled himself onto her bare ass. Still pretending to be asleep, Anne smiled. She would have been content to sleep with the cum on her but Charlie left and came back with a towel to wipe her off. She fell back into a deep dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Anne nuzzled backwards toward what she hoped would be Charlie’s body, but the other side of the bed was empty.

She came downstairs to find Charlie had biscuits ready and hot water on the kettle. He was puttering about the kitchen, putting away dishes and wiping down counters. I guess we’re pretending that never happened, Anne thought. Fine by me. The coffee was just strong enough, the biscuits were perfect (crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle) and she felt inclined to offer to help around the house.

“There’s a couple things we could use from the mercantile,” he offered and gave her a list before heading off.

Just who is this brute she was sharing a house with? The kind of person who will think they fucked you in your sleep and then act like it never happened? A thief? She needed to know for sure. Try as she might to push the thought from her mind, she couldn’t stop wondering.

Curiosity got the better of her and when night came she followed him into town. He traveled on foot and came up to a shopfront. He pulled out a small tool from his pocket and picked the lock.

So he was a crook! Not that she was one to judge, she was technically a murderer. But still, the man had more money than he’d know what to do with. He must want to be the richest man alive. Sneaking back to the house, she was asleep before he came back. This time he spared her and just let her be.

The next morning, another delicious breakfast lay on the kitchen table. How much longer would this go on before he was laying on the couch demanding his breakfast prepared imminently? When would the charade end? Anne thought to herself.

Anne ate the breakfast and did dishes, even offered to cook for dinner. He declined, insisting she was the guest and that she just take the day to figure out her next step.

All day, she contemplated going to the cafe to apply for work but just couldn’t bring herself to do it. The thought of being the accomplice of Charlie-whatever-his-last-name-was just sounded so much better.  When he arrived home after digging for gold - he was covered in dust so he must be telling the truth about something - she made up some lie about how they didn’t need any help at the cafe at the moment.

Anne lay in bed listening to the faint sounds of nature coming from outside. There was a creek nearby and the babbling she found quite soothing. There were no babbling brooks in Philadelphia. None she was aware of.

Then she heard it, the sound of music in the distance. Harmonica, banjo, fiddle perhaps?

According to her calculations, Charlie wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. She could be back in time to be asleep (or at least fake it) and he would never be the wiser. She slipped outside, wrapping her light coat around her and followed the sounds until she came to a bonfire.

There were a dozen or so men sitting, their faces flickering in the fire. A few women amongst them were drinking out of small pitchers.

One man offered her a drink and knowing better than to ask what it was, she threw it back. Straight down the gullet. A cheer went up in her honor. Things are starting to look up for me, Anne thought. The music picked up, the women started to dance and soon everyone joined in. The men swung her around. She even danced with the women a bit. One of them pulled her in for a kiss.

Soon she’d lost track of time and realized she’d better hurry back. She promised to return and smiled to herself the short walk back to the house. The lights were low, he was probably still gone or if he had returned he most likely went right to sleep, she thought. Wrong.

When she opened the door, he was there, sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a pipe.

“Where have you been?” he asked, a poor attempt at his usual unperturbed manner. Read: he was angry.

Her heart stopped in her chest. She thought of a good excuse but had none.

“I was taking a walk. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Perhaps I hadn’t made myself clear. I have one rule in this house. You are not to leave after nightfall.” With this, he strode toward her, gripped her by the arm and dragged her over to the kitchen table. He pushed her down against it, lifted up her dress and spanked, hard. He kept spanking until her gasps turned into wails and the wails turned into sobs. He stopped for a second, to see that she was ok, noticing the trail of juice trickling down her inner thigh. This gave her just enough time to speak.

“I know what you do! At night, I know what you do,” she panted. He paused, assessing her anew.

“What are you referring to?”

It could have been a number of things.

“You steal. You go to shops and take jewelry and money.”

“Is this a problem for you?”

“No, well-“

“Good. I take what I want. Manifest destiny, bitch.” And with that, he lifted her onto the table, freed of his pants, and impaled her on his massive cock. It somehow felt bigger than it had the other night.

“How do I know you’re not going to rat me out?” he growled into her ear.

She struggled to respond, mainly because of the intensity of his thrusting but also because she didn’t know how to prove her loyalty. It wasn’t that he was thrusting quickly. Rather, he was deliberate, his eyes boring into hers, forcing her to look at him. She couldn’t look away.

It was all too much and soon she shook violently, collapsing into his arms. Almost immediately after, he spewed his cum on her inner leg and it dripped all the way to her calf and then her ankle. She shivered, exhausted.

Once she’d caught her breath she spoke.

“Let me go with you.” There was a long silence.

“I’ll have to think about it. You’d better get some sleep.” He carried her to his bed and lay her down next to him for the night.

Perhaps to be continued…