“You’ll always be mine, Abigail. Always.”

He grips my hips until his cock stops pulsating. Slowly he pulls himself free from my heat, leaving a trail of his cum dripping down my thigh. He reaches for my hand, helping me up. He runs a finger over my lips, his hand going to the back of my neck, pulling me forward. 

“Clean it, Abigail, put my cock in your mouth and clean it.”

I look up at him, eyes widening. He can’t possibly mean what I think he does. 

He continues pulling me towards his cock, pausing when it’s almost touching my lips. 

“Put. My. Cock. In. Your. Mouth. I won’t repeat myself”.

I purse my lips for a moment, his hand tightening in my hair. I open my mouth then he shoves his cock in as far as it can go. I suck our mixed juices off him as he softens. I continue to hold him in my mouth. He pets my head, his fingers running through my hair. 

“That’ll do, Love.”

He helps me to my feet, pulling my body into his, his arms wrapping around me.

“I don’t like hesitation. I won’t often tolerate it, wife of mine. But you’re learning; I can be patient when I want to.”

He leans down and kisses me. He lifts me like I weigh nothing. But then, compared to him, I probably don’t. We're opposite in every way. He is tall, muscular, and solid. I'm small, petite. Dark to his blond. The top of my head barely reaches his armpits. Putting me down on the bed, he covers me with the blanket and goes to turn the light off before joining me in bed. 

“John, we're not dressed for bed...”

“Come here, Wife.”

I scoot over to him, and he wraps an arm around me, bringing my head to his shoulder. 

“I’ll keep you warm. Besides,” he glides a hand down my side to my hips, then idly up my front, rubbing over a nipple, “I like you naked and pressed up against me, I can take you in the middle of the night without having to fight your blasted nightgown.”

I stretch my hand on his chest, drawing patterns with my fingers in his chest hair. I nod. 

“When I’m home, I want you naked, Abigail. I want to see you, all of you. I want to see what you’ve given me, what belongs to me. I want to bend you over the kitchen table and take you there or pull you onto my lap in the sitting room. Do you understand?”

“Yes, John. But what if someone comes over? What if-”

I feel his finger come to rest on my lips. 

“Nobody will come here unannounced when I am home.”

I nod again. His hand drifts over my back and hips and back up. Silence descends between us. I stifle a yawn. He kisses the top of my head. 

“How innocent are you, Abigail?”

I lift my head, looking at him questioningly in the dark, the moon casting a silvery light over us. 

“I know you’ve never been with another man. But have you ever done anything else with one? Or were you completely chaste on our wedding day?”

“Thomas Carpenter kissed me once before you came. You do it better, though.”

“That’s it? No touching or tasting anyone else, or anyone else touching or tasting what’s now mine?”

I shake my head. 

“Good, I don’t like sharing.”

He lifts me on top of him and onto his waiting cock in what seems like one single movement. I gasp both in surprise and moan because of the sudden fullness. I haven’t been on top yet. He holds me tight against his chest for a moment, slowly pumping in and out of my slick channel.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he murmurs against my neck.

Grasping my shoulders, pushing me upwards, he slides even deeper inside me. His hands go to my hips, pulling down as he thrusts upwards. My breasts bounce and sway with the movement. He does it, again and again, fixating on my breasts, bobbing and swaying to the motion he was creating. He stills slightly, lifting his hands to my breasts, lifting them, holding them, watching as they fill his large hands perfectly.  His fingers slide to my nipples, pinching and pulling, twisting and kneading them between his thumb and first finger. Harder and harder he does this. My breathing quickens; I feel my core come alive again with heat. My hips begin a swaying dance of their own. The pressure at my nipples is more and more intense with every movement of my hips. 

“Move. Move your hips, Love. Put your hands on my chest and ride me.”

I stare down at him and place my hands on his chest. He pinches and pulls at my nipples while thrusting up into me. I close my eyes a moment and begin undulating on him in a rhythm that matches his. I imagine riding my horse, attempting to mimic that action. I squeeze my thighs against his hips, raising myself and lowering back down while swaying my hips to and fro, side to side. 

“Give me your eyes, Abigail. Let me see you.”

I open them, looking down at him. Unseeing at first, but as I focus on his eyes, that unseen blanket of intimacy covers us again. I lift from his chest and put my hands on my thighs, still undulating on him, him thrusting into me. I pick up speed, a sheen of sweat covering my body. I lean back and lift my hair, letting it fall back around me.

He abruptly sits up, bringing us chest to chest. His hands come up on either side of my face, his fingers digging into my hair, tilting my face to his, kissing me deeply, his tongue matching the motions of his cock. Thrusting in and out of my mouth, he moves my arms around his shoulders, and I grab the opposite elbow, continuing to move my hips, his left hand sliding down to my bottom, caressing it lightly. Then, suddenly, there's a loud crack, followed by a burning sensation on my right cheek. I rear back, but his arms hold me against him. 

“Are you saying no?”

“I… no, I’m not saying no, John.”

“Don’t pull away, and don’t stop riding me, feel it, absorb it.”

His right hand caresses my left cheek, then he slaps it too, the burn following the sound of him hitting me, his arms holding me still against his chest, him being the only movement in the bed. Three, four, five more times on each side. My face is buried in his shoulder, sobbing against him while my hips begin to move frantically on his cock, but as he delivers his tenth spank on my right cheek, I cum around his cock harder than I ever have, spurring his ejaculation as well.

I cry out, and he covers my lips with his own as he swallows my cry. His hands caress my back and buttocks, curling into my hair, soothing me. I move my hips unhurriedly on top of him, as he is still meeting me gently, thrust for thrust as our orgasms complete.

He lifts me from him, then without a second thought this time, I kneel between his legs and take his wet cock into my mouth, cleaning it with my tongue, sucking lightly until all traces of our lovemaking are gone. His cum creates a lazy trail down the inside of my thighs, marking me. I stay kneeling before him in our bed, my head facedown in his lap, my mouth full of his softening cock. I feel him take my hands and gently pull them behind me, placing them at the small of my back.

I stay like that for several minutes. He reaches down and taps my cheek with his finger, gently laying me beside him. He rises and leaves the room. I'm half asleep at the minute he was gone. He rolls me over and spreads my legs, gently cleaning the traces of our lovemaking from between them. Kissing me at my core, he tosses the towel away and climbs into bed beside me. My back to his front, his arms wrapping around me, a hand cupping my breast, he nuzzles my hair with his nose, and whispers;

“Well done, Love. Well done.”

Kissing the top of my head we both fall asleep quickly. I wake alone the next morning, I see a note on the other pillow:

I hope you slept well, Darling. It was hell pulling myself away from you this morning. Remember, if you leave the house, I need to know. -John

I stretch lightly; I am pleasantly sore. I think about the spanking last night. I'm not sure I'm ready to think about it too hard though, it would mean a conversation with John I wasn't sure I wanted to have yet. I had enjoyed it, hadn’t I? I wanted it again, didn't I?

Sighing, I get out of bed and go to get dressed, pulling on a full navy skirt and an ivory blouse that billows from shoulder to wrist. Tugging stockings and my shoes on, I go to the bureau mirror. Taking a look at my disheveled hair, I pull my brush through its tangles. A half chignon would do, letting the rest be down and free today. I wonder briefly if John would approve of my hair being down. I make up the bed and put the laundry in the hamper. The laundress would be by later this week with last week's things and would pick up this week's. I wonder if he is serious about my being naked when he's home. I assume yes, as he’s been serious about everything else. 

I pour myself a little coffee, adding sugar to it, allowing myself to remember the events of last night. Blushing rosy red over some, no, all of the things we did. That is not what my married friends had talked about in hushed whispers. Had they been keeping this a secret? Or is it different for them?  Do I want to please him? Can I completely turn myself to him the way he wants me to do?  Something inside me tells me he is holding back, a lot. Do I want him to be uninhibited with me? Can I handle him? 

I don't have answers to any of those questions. Deep in thought, I rinse the few dishes clean and set them to dry. Going into the garden, I pluck a few weeds and gather a few ripe vegetables, popping one of the cherry tomatoes in my mouth enjoying the warm burst of flavor on my tongue.

Last night was chilly, but it looked like we might get a few more days of warmth. John told me he would help finish harvesting the garden this weekend, and I would preserve the rest of the vegetables up for the winter next week. Tonight though, it seems like a good night for stew and fresh bread. I make the dough and leave it to rise.

Grabbing a light shawl and my hat, I close up the house then begin my short walk to town, thinking of the few items I need from the stores. I decide to stop at the grocer first, for some spices I think would go well with the stew.

As the clerk is bundling up my purchases, I feel a large hand at the small of my back; I look up and my husband's face is looking down at me. 

“Wife,” his voice hard.

“John? What are you doing here?”

“Interestingly enough, I was wondering the same thing. I’ll escort you home now.”

He moves us out of the store quickly, his hand never leaving my back. 

“John, I still have to go to the butcher...what are you- oh.”

I stop abruptly and look down at the ground, tears spring to my eyes.

John lifts my chin to look at my face. 

“Oh- what?” 

“I forgot, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you, I was thinking about last night and then my grocery list. I must have walked right past your office and not even seen it. I was so preoccupied.”

He lifts an eyebrow. He leans down and kisses my lips briefly. 

“We’ll talk later, Abigail. Let’s get to the butcher and get you home.”

His voice is full of something I can’t quite pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment? But we’ve also only known each other for six weeks, too, I think wryly. 

We walk into the butchers, and I ask for a roast. I want to cut some of it down for the stew tonight and use the rest for a roast tomorrow. 

We walk in silence, John carrying the packages in one arm, my hand on his other arm. He hasn’t said a word to me the entire quarter-mile home. Opening the door, he walks in ahead of me, placing the packages on the table. I sigh, then put my shawl and hat on the entry table. John walks out of the kitchen, back towards me. 

In a low voice, he says, “I have four rules, Abigail, and I don’t believe they’re very complicated, do you?” 

I lower and shake my head. 

“Strip and meet me in the sitting room. You, my Love, are getting your first punishment.”

He turns into the sitting room. I remove my clothing quickly, placing it on the railing of the stairs. I pad softly into the sitting room, pausing before the door. The carpet silences my bare footsteps even more. I stop just inside the room and wait for him to acknowledge me. Apprehension rising in my chest, causing my breathing to accelerate, I feel myself flushing, but resolve that I want to be here with him.

He gets up from the desk after a minute or two, pushed the chair in, and walks over to me. Lifting his hand, I recoil away abruptly with a sharp intake of breath as it comes to rest on my face gently. I place my hand tremblingly on his. He pulls me against him. He has a quizzical look on his face. He sits on the settee and pulls me onto his lap, his hand stroking my back. 

“Abigail,” he sighs, “You can say no. Always...just now, you flinched away from me. You’re flushed, and your heart is about to beat out of your chest. I don’t think it’s from excitement. Why did you flinch away from me?” 

“I lied yesterday, I wasn't ready to tell you. My Father, he wasn’t nice,” I blurt out in one breath. 

“Carl?!”

“No... Carl is my stepfather, he's never put a hand on me. My father died about five years ago. Mama didn’t know he beat me. He was careful.”

John stills against me, his voice low he asks, 

“What do you mean, ‘he was careful,’ Abigail?”

I sigh against him, realizing this is my time to tell him my secret. 

“He was harsh, beyond harsh, especially when I was done with school two years before he died. And my mother left punishments up to him and she would leave the house every time because I gave her headaches. He told her we had long talks, and then I was given extra chores or had to write lines. I don’t think she ever knew he put his hands on me, or whatever was within reach.”

I feel John stiffen even more, pulling me against him and exhaling his anger rippling off him in waves, “Like what, Abigail?”

I shrugged. “It depended on his mood. Or how much he’d been drinking. A switch, a ruler, his belt, a strap or something from the barn if he put much thought into it.”

I shrug my shoulder again, my eyes becoming unfocused as I drift back into my personal hell. 

“He never struck me below my knees or above my tailbone. He didn’t want Mama to find out. The first and only time I told her, I don't know if I sat comfortably for a month afterward. She didn’t believe me.  He punished me for telling her. If I ever moved or lost count, it started all over again. If I was too loud, he’d hold my face into a pillow with one hand while he hit me with the other.

“He left me on the floor. My mother found me almost an hour later. She blamed my cycles. The next time a week or so later, he gave me extra lashes for not finishing my punishment the last time.

“I never thought I would ever be the kind of person to be thankful that someone had died. But I cried happy tears when Mama told me he’d been in an accident. It’s part of why I fought you last week and a little last night and why I’m having a hard time with the punishment part. I promised you I’d try, and I will. I’ll try because I love you. I’m just scared you won’t love me if I can’t do it.”

I start sobbing against him. 

“I’m sorry, I want to try I do. I didn’t mean to...“

“Abigail Rose, shhhh stop. I would still love you if you couldn’t do anything sexual with me. I didn’t fall in love with you for your pussy. Your father was a shit father. Your mother should have known something was wrong. Baby, they both wronged you. I won’t hurt you. Never like that. Never. That was a sore abuse of power, Abigail. Abuse-period. What I’m offering is sexual, erotic, and pleasurable for both of us. Never abuse, and never just pain, my Love.

“You will cum, frequently. You will always end with being pleasured. You can always say no. I will never degrade or hurt you because of how you feel. Look at me, Abigail, Amoré. I. Love. You. Yes, I love your body, how your pussy seems made just for my cock. I love your laugh. I love your face when you’re in the garden. I love the sounds you make when you’re coming apart on my cock, I love when you’re sleeping, and you turn to me in your sleep for warmth and comfort. I love that even with all the shit you just told me, you're brave enough to walk through that doorway. So now, I’m asking you. Are you saying no to this?”

His hands drift between my legs and rub against my clit gently as he waits for my answer.

I soften against him and run his words over in my head. I lift my face to him, and he responds by brushing his lips over mine softly. Tentatively I reached up and put my hand on his cheek, pulling him back down to my lips. Opening for him, I reach my tongue out to meet his. We pull away breathless as he removes his hand from between my legs. 

“Will you tell me why it upset you that I forgot to stop by your office today? And then I’ll answer you.”

He pauses, thoughtful, as he brushes his other hand down my side to rest on my hip, pulling me closer to him. 

“Because if I don't know where you are, I can’t protect you. When Jake told me he saw you go into the grocers, I panicked. I wasn’t in control anymore, and I can’t protect you when I’m not in control.”

“Ok... you can make it good? Last night was good, but it wasn’t a punishment, was it? And, you’ll stop? If I ask?”

“No, last night wasn’t a punishment, Love. This isn’t a punishment anymore either. And yes, Abigail. I will always make it good for you. And as soon as you say the word, I stop. Always.”

He tilts my chin up a little further, forcing me to look at him. Seeing the indecision and desire at war each other in my eyes. He stands and gathers the blanket on the end of the couch, lifting me and carrying me into the backyard towards the grove of trees behind our home. He sets my bare feet on the sun-warmed grass, laying the blanket flat.

The late fall air crisp, though still too early to be cold, especially this time of day.  He begins removing his clothes, tossing them to the side. Once naked, he reaches his hand out to me, reminding me again this is my choice. I slide my smaller hand into his. He guides me to the middle of the blanket. Sitting, his legs straight in front of him. He pulls me down beside him and rests his forehead on mine. 

“I want you to lay across my legs, with your legs spread open and straight out, you can put your hands above your head or on the small of your back. Once you decide, they stay put. You can make noise, wriggle, but if you get up or say stop, I stop.”

I quietly do as he says, resting my hands in the small of my back, my belly across his lap. He runs his right hand up one leg and down the other, up to my back and brushing my hair away from my face. His hand went back to my buttocks, caressing each globe, squeezing each one gently. I begin to relax against him. His left hand rests above my hands on the small of my back without any pressure. His right hand still caressing, he raises his hand and delivers a light yet sharp smack to my left cheek and then to my right.

Then he rubs both spots lightly again, soothing. Then he gives another slightly harder set of smacks followed by caresses. He continues this way, each time the spanks become more frequent with less time caressing me. Sharper. I feel the warmth spreading across my backside and a teensy bit of that delicious inner spring coiling on my insides. His left hand moves to my hands, holding them lightly down as he spanks me without pause with five of his hardest swats yet.

I moan and shift against him, pressing my pussy into his thigh. His hand rubs my backside against the throbbing heat. He delivers several more, his eyes holding mine captive. My eyes go hazy as the warmth shifts into my core, causing the spring to coil tighter inside. I shift my hips against him and moan again. Five more swats, then he pulls my hips upwards, moving out from under me.

Positioning himself quickly behind me, he slides into me in one swift thrust, his hips against my ass. He reaches around me at the same time, pressing against my clit. I explode around him, crying out his name. He pulls back and pushes his cock back into my hole.

My muscles rippled around his cock, pulsating against him. Holding onto my hips, he rams himself back in, his fingers still rubbing at my clit. He pushes my hips down slightly, letting some of his weight rest on my body, driving his shaft into me relentlessly. His cock pushes back into me, and again I feel his sharp smacks on my ass as he pulls out. Pushing his cock back in again, he smacks the other side as he pulls back out. 

“Give me one more, Abigail, cum for me.”

I moan. “I can’t... it’s too much.”

“You can and you will. Give it to me now, Abigail.”

I shudder beneath him, so close. He smacks me three more times as he fills my hole with his seed, his wet heat pulsing against my womb. I cum with him again, my orgasm triggered by his. He kisses my shoulders, pushing my hair out of the way. He kisses the back of my neck as he pulls out, rolling to the side, pulling me to him. I kneel at his side, my hands behind my back, to take his cock in my mouth to again clean our lovemaking from him. I feel his cum dripping slowly down my thighs, making me shiver. I finish cleaning him and relax, his cock in my mouth and wait for his direction.

After a moment, he taps my cheek, my signal to release him. I lay down next to him, curling against his chest with his arm around me, rubbing up and down my arm. The cool afternoon breeze brushing over us. 

I feel him look down at me, and I look up to meet his gaze, blushing a little. 

“Are you ok? Was that-“

“Yes, shhh, I’m fine. That was just amazing. Thank you.”

“What the fuck are you thanking me for?!”

I smile, reaching up with my lips kissing his cheek lightly. 

“For loving me through my past. For showing me how amazing it can be. I’ve never told anyone any of that before. I’ve never felt like that before. It’s been an afternoon.”

He runs his hand down my hair, pulling against the tendrils lightly. 

“I like your hair down. Would you want to do this again?”

“Yes. I think I would. You bring me pleasure. The intent is different. You won’t hurt me like he did.”

I hear the awe in my voice, kissing his chest I say again; 

“You won’t hurt me.”

“No, my Love. I would rather cut off my arm than hurt you. Let’s get back home it's cooling off now.”

He wraps the blanket around my body and pulls his pants boots on. Grabbing his shirt, he puts it on as he begins walking with me back to our house. Silently again, but peaceful this time. He takes the blanket from me as we enter the house. 

“Your ass is such a lovely shade of pink. I’ll do that again. Soon.”

I blush, remembering what had just happened outside. I nod slowly. A smile spreads across my face, matching his. 

“I might let you.”

He grins as he moves to go upstairs, and I turn into the kitchen. I put the bread in the oven. I feel him against my back; his hand splayed on my belly. Kissing the hollow of my neck, he turns me to face him. 

“I’m sorry you went through that with your father. I will never hurt you, I love you.”

I warm at the earnestness in his voice and eyes. 

“John, I trust and love you too.”

He nods, wrapping his arms around me. 

“I need to get back to the office. I’ll be back in a few hours. Are you going anywhere else today?”

I shake my head. 

“Good. Put a robe on or get dressed again, I’ll be home later.”

He kisses me softly, pats my sore bottom, and leaves. 

I lean against the counter, recounting the last hour. Smiling, I turn to get myself a cup of water, then go to get dressed. I knew we wouldn’t be disturbed when John was home, but I couldn’t be sure if anyone would stop by if he wasn’t. 

Tying an apron on, I begin cutting up the meat and putting the stew together for dinner. As I finish up and remove the bread from the oven, I run through the last few weeks in my mind. In a whirlwind, I met and married John, moved out of my stepfather's house and into John’s. And today, I began confronting my past. I was tired from the last few late nights, and the last hour or so, I smile as I lay down on the couch, thinking of all the things John makes me feel as I drift to sleep. 

“Abigail! Wake up, Love. Open your eyes! Jesus, please. Abigail!”

Jerking, I wake up soaked with tears and sweat. Sitting up, I look around, confused. I turn to see John on one knee at my side in front of the couch. 

“Jesus, Aby, you terrified me. I was about ten yards from the front door and heard you screaming. Then I couldn’t get you to wake up... what happened? Are you hurt?” 

I start crying, jump off the couch and try to run out of the room. 

John grabs my arm as I try to rush past him, pulling me to him.

“Abigail, what-“

“Please let me go, John, please. Just give me a minute.”

Looking at me standing there sobbing, he holds me briefly, then nods. I pull away and run up the stairs into our bedroom. Closing the door, I turn, then slide down the wall beside my bureau.

I bury my head into my knees and sob. 

A few minutes later, I hear the door click open. John moves quickly across our room to kneel in front of me. He rests his hand on my shoulder. I flinch slightly but then lean into his hand. He moves forward and lifts me in his arms. He holds me like that for a moment, kissing the top of my head. He stands me up, quickly undressing me, then pulls me into the bed. Me, under the blankets with him on top. Settling in next to me, he pulls me to lay my head on his shoulder as he runs his hand down my hair and back. Over and over, soothing me as the sun casts its pink and orange glow in the room around us. His voice rumbles in his chest against my head,

“Are you ready to talk about what happened between when I left you earlier until now?” 

I burrow my head into his chest. I blink away the remnants of my tears. 

“I fell asleep...I must have had a nightmare. It’s been forever since I’ve had one like what you described. You and my mother should compare notes.”

His hand pauses briefly, then begins rubbing my hair again. 

“Do you remember any of it?”

I shake my head. 

“No, I rarely remember much, just the feeling I have. I'm always scared. Right before I wake up, I see just his face. It's looking down at me like when he was alone with me. But that was years ago. I’m not sure what today was about; it’s been so long.”

I knew I must have sounded confused and probably lost. Which is what I felt if I was being honest. 

There was a long silence. Then John spoke again.

“Love, I am not going to spank you again. Not once. Not even if you ask me to. I’m so sorry, Little One.”

He buries his face in my hair, holding me to him. I push against him, sitting straight up, the blankets pooling around my waist.

“What? Why? Did you not like-“

“Abigail. You have to see the connection. You haven’t had a nightmare in years, and the first time you do is after I spend the afternoon spanking and sexing you! My God, Aby, I should have known I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have pushed-“

“Stop. I LIKED it—your spanking and sexing. John, I liked it and I could have said no. I could have stopped you. That didn’t cause… this!” 

He looks at me tenderly, reaching a hand out to cup my face. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, wiping away the remnants of my tears. 

“I caused this, so let me finish. I did this to you. And Abigail, I will NOT ever raise my hand to you again. I don’t ever want to hear your screams of terror, to know you’re fighting a battle so deep in your soul that I can’t pull you out of it. I can’t help you in there. But I can damn well keep you from getting to that place. I’m going to get our food, then we’re eating in bed tonight. This discussion is over.”

I gape at him as he gets up and leaves the room. Anger is tempered with my fear. Does he still want my submission? Will he touch me in other ways again? I liked it all today. I had never cum so hard. I was confused by the quick turns our very short relationship had taken in the last 24 hours. But I liked it. Was he right? Did the spanking today take me back to the beatings of my past? Or was it all of the talk of the past that took me back to that place? Am I still what he wants if we can’t do that? Does he still want me? He walks back in the door with a tray and kicks the door shut behind him, I lower my eyes to the quilt on top of the bed.

“Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking because I guarantee at least half of it isn’t true, and I won’t like any of it.”

I chose to ignore his words for the time being. 

“You only have one bowl of soup. I thought we were both eating?”

I try to distract him from my thoughts. 

“We are. I’m feeding you tonight, and then we’re both going to bed early.”

He sets the tray on the bureau and sits in the large easy chair beside it, placing a pillow on the floor. In a silent direction, he crooks his finger at me. I rise from the bed and walk to him, hesitating in front of him.

“Kneel on the pillow and let me feed you.”

I kneel before him, feeling awkward sitting in front of him completely naked. I pressed my knees together and almost wrapped my hands around my body. Blushing, I lower my face from his gaze. 

“Don’t hide. Put your hands on the top of your thighs and spread them apart. Show me what’s mine, Abigail.”

After a brief hesitation, I do what he says, looking down at my hands. He shifts forward to push a strand of my hair over my shoulder, his hand lingering at my jaw, drifting to my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I like seeing you like this. Showing me everything, sitting in front of me, offering yourself. You have no idea how incredible you are.”

He leans back, taking the bowl and spoon in his hands. Testing the temperature against his lips, he offers me the bite after I swallow, then gives me a bit of the bread with butter and a sip of the red wine he brought up. He follows this whole routine, not taking a single bite for himself until I shake my head, completely satiated. 

“Are you sure you’re full, my Love?”

“Yes.”

“Sir. Say, ‘Yes Sir’ or ‘No Sir’ when we’re alone, please.”

“Yes, Sir, I am full.”

He begins eating, pausing briefly, he pulls my head down to the inside of his thigh, pushing it down until my cheek is resting against his leg. He let his fingers linger on my cheek for a moment. 

“Stay put. One day soon, I’ll eat my dinner while you eat my cock.”

I shiver a little, imagining that picture in my head. We sit in silence, occasionally with his hand resting on my head while he finishes eating. He offers me another sip of wine before pushing the tray back further on the bureau. Leaning down, he lifts me into his arms, settling me in his lap, my head against his shoulder. We sit in silence for a while, watching the sun go down. His hands gently touch and stroke my body while we sit. 

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“Where did you move here from? I was just wondering.”

“New Mexico, I was the sheriff in a town down there, your mayor offered me a job here in July, and I was here by August. Many of the locals spoke Spanish. I picked up a few things while I was there.”

I nodded. 

“And the problem, with the men on the train? Is that-“

“Abigail, I don’t want to talk about work tonight. But you are safe, I am safe, and the town is safe.”

“Yes, Sir”, I say smartly.

He grins down at me.

“I do like hearing that from your lips, sassy or not.”

He tilts his head down, kissing me sweetly. I turn to him, opening myself to him. Propping myself up on his shoulders, I bring my legs on either side of his legs, kissing him deeper. His hands go to my hips, holding me steady and caressing them, gently trailing his fingers down my spine to my bottom and back up again, stopping at my hips.

I thread my hands through his hair, fusing our lips together. I feel one of his hands go between my legs, his fingers sliding against my already wet folds. He hums lightly into my mouth, slowly inserting one finger inside my body. Lazily moving it in and out, adding a second finger, I moan into his lips, shivering. Our kisses become more passionate. His other hand moving to my hair, pulling my head back, he moves his lips down my neck, finding a particularly sensitive place, and attacks it with ferocity. I'm sure I’ll wear his mark tomorrow.

Eventually, he moves down my neck to my breasts. Alternating between each nipple, his fingers still at work between my legs, he begins circling my clitoris with his thumb. My legs begin to tremble. His teeth nip at my left nipple, pulling it taut, then the right. 

“John! I’m going to...”

“Cum? I certainly hope so,” he chuckles against my breast, then moves to my other breast. Moving back up my body, he suckles the other side of my neck, stopping when I tense against him, kissing and sucking at that spot. He fuses his mouth to mine again, pushing against my clitoris with his thumb as his fingers brush against that sweet, dark spot inside of me.  My body arches against his, and I cry out against his lips. 

“That’s it, Love. Let go, I’ve got you.”

Shudder after shudder comes out of my body as he gently brings me back down from my orgasm. I drop against him, gasping, I press my lips to the side of his neck. He removes his fingers from inside of me, holding them to my lips. I open and suck his fingers clean of my juices. 

After I catch my breath, he pushes me gently to the pillow on the floor.

“My turn. Open your mouth for your dessert, Pet.”

I kneel in front of him, opening my mouth. He lays the tip of his cock on my lips, watching me intently as my tongue reaches shyly out to lick the bit of moisture already seeping out of his slit. 

“I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

“I’m yours, John- Sir. You don’t need to hold back.”

His eyes glimmer at my words, the tips of his fingers caressing the sides of my face, his fingers moving into my hair, holding my head still.

“Tap my left leg if it gets to be too much.”

“I will, sir.”

He pushes the tip of his long member in, inch by inch, and pulls back out again. He leisurely pumps in and out of my mouth, occasionally letting his cock bump against the back of my throat. He pauses for a minute as his cock pulses in my mouth.

He pushes it all the way in, holding it against the back of my throat. My eyes start to water a bit, and I attempt to pull back. He grips my head still a moment longer, then pulls out again. 

“Next time, Abigail, swallow against it. I want down your throat.”

He pushes back in, his cock stretching my jaw open. I feel him tilt my head back slightly as his cock bumps the back of my throat. As he pushes against my throat, his hands tighten in my hair as he murmurs,

“Swallow against it the tip, Love...ahh, that’s a good girl...”

I start swallowing against him, and the third time I swallow against him, he pushes in all the way. My gag reflex kicks in, but he holds me still against him. My nose is pressed against his pelvis, his balls resting against my chin, he pulls out quickly, a string of my saliva dripping down my chin.

My eyes are watering, his eyes dark with lust. He looks into my eyes and pushes his engorged cock back down my throat again in a single movement, my eyes going wide, his hands still holding my head in place. A hand moves to my throat as his hips begin thrusting roughly into me. He rubs my neck, feeling his cock moving in and out of my throat, my body fighting against him.

His hand is fisted into my hair gripping me firmly in place. My throat is pulsing against the thick intruder, my eyes watering as my gag reflex continues to attempt to push his cock from my throat. It seems to push him further over towards the edge.

He pulls out again, and I gulp air into my burning lungs. He takes a step forward, almost tilting me backward, positioning his body over mine, his cock in front of my face. I see his precum oozing from his hole. I reach out with my tongue and lick it from him. He groans and thrusts roughly back into my mouth. My tongue moves over him as he shoves his cock shallowly into my mouth. Pulling out, he pushes me down further, his balls against my lips.

“Suck.”

I lick his sack, sucking each of his testicles into my mouth. A single one filling my lips, I alternate between the two. His hands tighten in my hair as he abruptly lifts my face back up and shoves his cock back into my mouth, my cheeks puffing out around him. He continues deepening his thrusts. He bumps against the back of my throat again, and I swallow against him, allowing him the access he needs to push himself back into my throat.

“Good girl... my beautiful girl is a fast learner.”

With that, he shoves himself further into my throat than he had before, my nose being nestled firmly against his pubic bone. Short thrusts keep him locked in my throat, his pubic bone stays pressed against my nostrils. The lack of air makes me hazy. I surrender into his hands as his hips press and gyrate against my face. His hand is on my neck again, he thrusts three more times, his cock seems to become even more engorged as he stills against my face. 

“Swallow it all. Not a drop leaves your mouth, Abigail.”

He slowly pulls out of my throat enough so I can take a deep breath through my nose again. He presses back in with five quick, forceful thrusts as he explodes down my throat, pulsing. His cum filling my mouth. Clamping my lips over his erection, I make sure nothing escapes. I carefully suckle him clean while he’s in my mouth. Maintaining eye contact with me, he pets my hair and rubs my cheek softly. Soon he taps my cheek, and I release him from my mouth as I remain kneeling before him. 

He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed, climbing in beside me. I lay my head on his chest and tentatively lay my leg over his own. 

I yawn against him and murmur

“All yours, John...” as I drift off to sleep with the feel of him surrounding me.