Bedding Abigail
An “Old West” Erotic Fantasy
By Katie M. Bell
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 by Katie M. Bell
All rights reserved.
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Cover Photo © Iakov Filimonov / Dreamstime.com
This e-book contains explicit dialogue, sexual situations and explicit depictions of sexual intercourse and is suitable for adults only.
If you are not 18 years of age or older do not read past this point.
Bedding Abigail
Majestic Peak, Colorado
1888
From her window seat on the train, Abigail saw Clarice waiting for her on the platform. In appearance, her childhood friend had changed little in the five years since Abigail served as the maid of honor at her wedding. The energetic blonde jumped up and down and waved to Abigail. As she came closer, Abigail thought that Clarice might be a little be heavier and was certainly wearing more rouge than she would have ever worn back home in Richmond. Her clothes and hat were also somewhat flashy compared to the fashions back east.
“Oh, Abigail,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you. I thought I’d never see you again.” Clarice stepped back and looked her up and down. “But darlin’, you’re skinny as a rail. We’ve got to put some meat on your bones.”
Abigail laughed. “I didn’t come here for you to take care of me, even though you always did when we were kids. You were always the strong one.”
“We were the only sisters either one of us ever knew with both us growing up in a house full of boys.”
They hugged again and over Clarice’s shoulder, Abigail caught sight of a man staring at her. Leering was more like it, she thought. He moved out of the shadow of the train depot awning, and his lawman’s badge glistened in the bright sunlight. He removed his hat to reveal thick, honey-colored hair. His chiseled features and blue eyes gave him a handsome appearance. He nodded to her and smiled in a way that made her insides tremble, but he crossed the street without speaking. Her eyes followed his back. Get a hold on yourself, she thought. You’re here to forget about men not find a new one.
“My driver will collect your things from the train,” Clarice said. “And we’ll go straight to the hotel.” She paused and Abigail had the strangest feeling that Clarice was keeping something from her. “I have a lot to tell you, Abigail, but all in good time.”
Clarice had been married at eighteen to a much older man with piles of money. Shortly after their marriage, they headed west where he opened a hotel in the Colorado Rockies and died one year later. Clarice’s family and friends had expected her to come back home to Richmond, but she was determined to make a go of it in her new home, Majestic Peak.
A young woman brought out a tray of tea and cookies and set it on the small table in the reception-area parlor. Abigail stirred a small spoonful of sugar into her tea and looked around at the opulent room decorated in reds and pinks. The artwork really caught her attention. Paintings of nearly nude women in suggestive poses decorated the walls. Abigail had been told that European mansions contained such art, but one would be hard-pressed to find anything of such an erotic nature in an upper-crust Richmond home.
“I love the name of your hotel,” Abigail said. “The Hotel Belle Amour sounds so romantic.”
Clarice smiled. “Belle Amour was Harlan’s pet name for me.”
“How have you been doing since he passed away?”
“I’ve managed.” She paused and sipped her tea. “So what brings you all the way to Colorado?” Clarice asked as if to change the subject.
Abigail placed the fine china cup back on the table. “I had to get away from Richmond for a while.”
“What about Robert, the man that you wrote to me about?”
She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “That’s why I had to leave. I found out that he was married, Clarice. He had a wife in Baltimore and a baby on the way.”
Clarice made a face. “The rat, he led you to believe that he would marry you.”
“Yes, he did, and I…I gave myself to him. It was just one time, but still, I feel like such a fool.”
“Well, sweetie, you’re not the first woman to make a fool of herself over a man.” Clarice paused and nodded to a young woman who came in the front door and went upstairs.
“Is this one of those ladies’ hotels?” Abigail asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve only seen women here. Other than your driver, I haven’t seen any men.”
“Oh, well, oh…we entertain men, as well. Just not today,” Clarice said. “Let me show you up to your room. I reserved the turret room for you right next to my private suite. It has a beautiful view of the mountain.”
Abigail saw more erotic paintings decorating the second-floor walls. These, however, went beyond suggestive to full nudes reclining on beds and sofas. The centerpiece of the third-floor landing was a statute of a nude couple embracing. The subjects bore a striking resemblance to Clarice and her late husband. Abigail was taken aback by the bold nature of the third-floor artwork. These paintings depicted men and women enjoying carnal pleasures.
“So do have guests on this floor?” Abigail asked. “Or is this your private living area?”
“This floor has two other suites besides mine and of course, the turret room,” she said. “You might say that the highest-paying guests, and special friends, get to stay on this floor.”
Clarice led her into a room that was decorated in more of the garish reds and pinks that colored the reception area. No expense was spared on the furnishing. A large, four-poster bed with an overstuffed mattress was placed against one wall. A two-seater sofa sat in front of the fireplace and a cushioned window seat was placed in front of the turret’s rounded bay window. A large mirror hung on the wall opposite the bed. Not that I want to see how I look when I wake up in mornings, Abigail thought. A few more pieces of erotic artwork decorated the walls. In the one hanging over the bed, a buxom nude woman straddled a man’s mid-section.
“Clarice, do you mind if I ask why there are so many paintings of naked people in the hotel?”
Clarice’s cheeks colored and then she chuckled. “Harlan envisioned the Belle Amour as a honeymoon hotel. When it came to sex, my late husband was a free spirit. Harlan believed in stimulating the libido with reminders of how beautiful the naked body is.”
Crossing the room to a narrow doorway, Clarice said, “In this little room there’s a porcelain tub and washstand, so you can have a private bath. Just let housekeeping know when you want to have a bath drawn.”
She walked back over to Abigail and gave her a hug.
“I have some business to attend to, so I’ll leave you to freshen up,” Clarice said. “I’m having the cook prepare all your favorite foods for dinner. We’ll eat at six, and you can catch me up on everything that’s been happening back home.”
Abigail walked over to the window to take in the scenery Clarice had mentioned, but her eyes drifted instead to the lawman standing across the street below. His eyes looked upward as if he could see her looking down at him. She moved away from the window and sat on the end of the bed. Now that she’d arrived in Majestic Peak, she’d begun to have misgivings. Clarice seemed to have changed in a way Abigail couldn’t quite define. She had a gut feeling that there was something different about her friend.
* * *
Abigail was startled awake by the sound of a woman moaning as if she might be in pain, and she heard a man’s muffled voice, too. Clarice’s room was next to hers. She stood up against her headboard and pressed her ear to the wall.
“Oh, Ooooooh,” Clarice cried out.
The masculine voice said something she couldn’t make out. What was the man doing to Clarice? She looked around for some kind of weapon, and picked up the heaviest object she could find—one of the naked lady statuettes that decorated the hotel. She secured the loops of her dressing gown and slipped out into the dark hallway that was illuminated only by the sliver of light emanating from Clarice’s room.
As quiet as a mouse, she moved toward the door that was about six inches ajar. From her vantage point she could see a man standing with his back to the door. He appeared to be stark naked. He turned so that she could see him in profile. She gasped and placed her hand to her mouth. Other than on a horse, she’d never seen an organ that big, and it was standing erect and hard as a boulder.
She ventured closer and saw Clarice nude and reclining on the big four-poster bed with her legs spread wide open. A second man was kneeling over her, cock in hand, spurting his seed onto her belly, while Clarice giggled. Her womanly parts were as bare as the statuette Abigail held in her hand. Had Clarice shaved her private parts? she wondered.
“I feel wicked tonight,” Clarice said. “How about a little double or nothing, boys?”
The man with the huge organ moved over to the bed and laid down on his back. Clarice climbed on top of him as if she were mounting a horse. She groaned and bit her bottom lip as she took the man’s enormous organ into her body an inch at a time.
“Oh, Matt, you’ve got the biggest cock in Majestic Peak,” Clarice said.
“Fuck, woman,” he said. “You’ve got the only pussy in Majestic Peak big enough to handle it.”
With one hand, the other man stroked his member back to a state of arousal and leered at Clarice’s plump ass. “Who was the pretty gal you picked up from the train today?” he asked. “I like redheads.”
Abigail recognized this voice as the one she’d overheard from the other side of the wall. She didn’t like the looks of him at all, and the fact that he’d noticed her made her nervous.
“She isn’t going to be working here,” Clarice said. “So don’t even entertain the thought.”
The man sneered and licked his lips. With his cock stiffened again, he placed his hand against Clarice’s back and pressed her forward. Clarice let out a screech when the man tried to shove his hard member into her ass. Abigail almost dropped the heavy statuette. Those men are going to tear Clarice’s body apart, she thought.
“Son of a bitch, Adam,” Clarice said. “There’s a jar of petroleum jelly on the washstand.”
Abigail watched the man smear the yellow substance on his cock and rub a dollop on Clarice’s puckered hole. This time his organ slid into Clarice’s ass without resistance, and she moaned her pleasure.
“Oh, boys, my ass and pussy feel so fucking good,” Clarice said.
Her large breasts swung with the rhythm of the man’s thrusts. The man on the bottom squeezed one of her tits and sucked a nipple, causing Clarice to cry out again.
Abigail backed away from the door and crept back to her room.
A little while later, after the screams, cries, groans and grunts died down, she heard Clarice say goodnight to the one called Adam but Matt stayed. Two more times during the night, Abigail overheard them. Her mind was so full of thoughts and questions she didn’t sleep a wink for the remainder of the night.
The next morning she went down to the dining room for breakfast and found Clarice as chipper as if she’d slept all night instead entertaining men until the wee hours of the morning.
“Well, good morning, Abigail,” Clarice said.
Abigail nodded.
“Your face is flushed,” Clarice said. “Are you feeling all right this morning?”
“I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep too well last night.”
Clarice poured Abigail a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. “I guess you’re tired from your long trip.”
“A little.”
“Abigail, there’s something I have to tell you about the hotel.” She inhaled a deep breath. “You see, when Harlan died, I found out that we had this beautiful hotel and little else. We were broke.”
Abigail drank her coffee and didn’t look at her friend.
“The railroad wasn’t bringing in the tourists the way the town thought it would. Everyone wanted to go to Pike’s Peak instead of coming to our little mountain, so I had to find a way to make this hotel turn a profit.”
“I think I know what you’re getting at,” Abigail said. “I saw you…engaging in…intercourse with two men.”
Clarice laughed. “Intercourse? It’s called fucking, Abigail, and we do a whole lot of it in this hotel. Harlan had no head for money, but the man knew how to fuck, and he taught me every way there was to do it. When I was faced with the choice, I decided to turn a profit with this hotel doing what Harlan did best.”
Abigail nodded. “I see.”
Clarice reached for her hand. “I know that you come from a genteel world where intercourse is done is secret behind closed doors. Out here, it’s different. It was a shock to me, too, when I first got here. These are tough men out here who do tough work. If they didn’t have the women for relief, there’d be all kinds of violence and killings.”
Her eyes widened. “And so they take out all that violence on women?”
Her friend shook her head. “No, I don’t allow them to beat up on the girls, if that’s what you mean? But men are strange creatures, Abigail. Fucking seems to relieve the same tension that fighting does.”
Abigail didn’t know what to think. The Clarice she’d grown up with wasn’t the same woman who was throwing around coarse expressions as if it was second nature to her.
“I hate having you look at me that way,” Clarice said. “As if I’ve knocked myself off the pedestal you’d placed me on.”
“I never had you on a pedestal. It’s just a lot for me to take in.”
“Well, it wasn’t something that I could write to you in a letter and prepare you for.” She stood and adjusted her corset. “Anyway, eat your breakfast and after you dress, I’ll give you a tour of the town.”
Strolling around town, Abigail found it interesting that most of the townspeople greeted and treated Clarice with respect, even though they had to know what type of business she was running at the Belle Amour.
“The people of Majestic Peak seem very accepting of you,” Abigail said.
“I could introduce you to a few who would love to put me out of business,” Clarice said. “But the truth is when Harlan had plenty of money to throw around, he threw it around. A lot of people in Majestic Peak wouldn’t have homes or businesses had it not been for Harlan. I suppose they accept me out of respect for him.”
They stopped in at the general merchantile store, and Abigail looked at dress patterns and fabric while Clarice ordered groceries for the hotel kitchen. Before she even looked up, she felt his eyes on her. The handsome lawman had spotted her through the window and stopped to blatantly stare at her. She met his gaze and held it until Clarice came to her side.
“Who is that?” Abigail asked.
“That’s our sheriff, Zach McNichol. He generally looks the other way when it comes to the hotel, but he’s looking at you like he could rip your clothes off and take you right here in front of everyone.”
Abigail felt her cheeks grow warm, and she giggled. “Clarice, don’t say such things,” she said, but she continued to stare back at the Sheriff for a moment before looking away. Warmth filled her cheeks, and she patted away the small amount of perspiration that popped out along her hairline.
“Do you find it hot in here?” she asked Clarice.
Clarice grinned. “Not really. Maybe the sheriff warmed you up a little.”
Abigail pinched Clarice’s arm before turning her back on the window. She was usually attracted to men of business in their nice suits and slicked back hair. A rugged man such as Sheriff McNichol had never been her cup of tea.
“Come on,” Clarice said. “There’s a beautiful meadow I want to show you further up the mountain. Harlan and I used to take picnics up there.”
Clarice’s face fell, and Abigail could see the sadness in her eyes.
“You still miss him, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Always will. Oh, Abigail, I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as Harlan made me even it was only for a few years.”
The smile returned to her face, and she grabbed Abigail’s hand. “Let’s go,” she said. “We still have a lot of sights to see.”
* * *
That evening, Clarice opened the Belle Amour to business. As Abigail descended the main staircase, she heard familiar music coming from the ballroom. Out of curiosity, she peeked inside. The room was well-lit by almost a dozen well-placed candelabras on tall stands. A man played a Mozart piece on the grand piano that Abigail remembered from one of her many music lessons. Two naked young women danced in the center of the room. Their mounds, along with other body parts, were shaved, so their skin looked smooth and perfect in the glow of the candlelight. The girls each held one end of a long, red silk ribbon. When they came close to one another, they touched each other’s bodies in intimate ways. Abigail was mesmerized by their skillful movements. The dance ended with the ribbon wrapping them in a tight embrace. The dancers departed and the pianist continued his concert with a livelier, more contemporary piece of music.
Several small sofas lined the walls of the room, and each was occupied by a lady and her male companion. Abigail’s attention was drawn to one young woman who was seated on a man’s lap. She wore stockings and a corset but no drawers or corset cover, so her tits and pussy were naked. This didn’t shock Abigail, considering that most of the women in the room were in similar states of undress. The woman shifted her position, and Abigail could see the man’s cock nestled in the woman’s pussy. The woman leaned forward, balancing herself on the man’s thighs and bounced up and down on his cock with the rhythm of the music. Each time she went down, she took in more of his organ until it disappeared within her folds. The man reached up and pulled on her protruding nipples. She tossed her head back and let out a squeal, but no one paid any attention. By this time, all of the couples were engaging in some sort of sex play.
Feeling warm moisture pool between her legs, Abigail stepped away from the door and headed toward the kitchen at the back of the hotel. She’d decided to take her evening meal with the hotel staff in order to remain inconspicuous. Clarice was in the kitchen, giving orders to the cook. She was wearing a white, ruffled robe. It was open down the front revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath except for a pearl necklace.
“Hey, Abigail,” Clarice said. “You’ll love the roast chicken. Henrietta’s is the best this side of Denver. I’d eat with you, but I’ve gotta run. My number is coming up in the ballroom. Remember how I used to love to sing. Now, I have an audience—not that I think anyone will be paying attention to me.”
With that, she sashayed away, her robe flowing behind her, as if being naked were the most normal thing in the world. Clarice was never shy about her body. When they were fourteen, Clarice suggested they go skinny-dipping in the small pond near her grandmother’s farm. A group of boys caught them, and Abigail had hidden in the bushes, while Clarice taunted and teased the boys with a glimpse of her nipples. It took another year for Abigail’s breasts to develop into a womanly shape, but she never did grow as large as Clarice.
Abigail wasted no time eating her dinner and returned to her room by the back stairs. As she approached the second floor landing, she heard voices. The door to the room just off the landing was standing wide open. In the dim light of an oil lamp, a young woman she recognized as Jillian was with a man Abigail assumed to be a customer. They were semi-dressed and didn’t seem to care that the door was open, and they could be seen. Jillian sat on a red velvet settee, and the man stood in front of her, holding his cock near Jillian’s face.
Abigail moved into the shadowed side of the stairs and tried to be as quiet as possible. Jillian wrapped her hand around the man’s organ, gave the head a lick and sucked it into her mouth. Licking it as if it were a lollypop from the candy store, Abigail thought.
The man reached to fondle the red blooms at the tips of Jillian’s breasts.
“Will you let me taste your tits later?” he asked. “They’re twice the size they were last time I came through town.”
She removed her mouth from his cock. “You’ll have to be gentle,” she said. “They’ve been real sore the last few days.”
Abigail noticed for the first time the swell of Jillian’s belly and realized that she was carrying a child. She’d hid it so well in her clothing. Jillian went back to work on the man’s cock, licking from balls to tip and back down again. She covered the head with her mouth and pumped the shaft with her hand.
Abigail rubbed between her legs to quiet the twinge in her pussy but the more she rubbed, the more the twinge grew filling her belly. Slick moisture seeped through the thin cotton of her undergarments.
Jillian took more of the man’s cock into her mouth, and Abigail wondered how her mouth could hold so much. Bobbing her head up and down, the woman seemed to take more each time she went down. When the man thrust his hips up, it looked as if his whole cock was contained within Jillian’s lips. How does she keep from gagging? Abigail wondered.
Jillian caressed the man’s balls and gave them a squeeze.
“Oooh, fuck,” the man moaned.
His hips jerked and he clutched Jillian’s shoulders for support. She gave his cock a long, hard suck, and a creamy liquid oozed out from around the edges of Jillian’s mouth. She released his cock from her mouth long enough for Abigail to see more of the cream spurt from the tip. Jillian lapped it all up, licking his cock clean and even licking up what had run down onto her hand.
Abigail crept past the door and went to her bedroom. She laid back on her pillows, pulled up the hem of her dress and petticoat, and slid her fingers into her soaking wet pussy. She hadn’t touched herself in that way since she’d learned the truth about Robert. She used to close her eyes and imagine him making love to her, but she never wanted to imagine that face again.
Her fingers found that little knot of pleasure that she’d discovered with no thanks to Robert. Their one experience at intercourse had been quite lackluster, to say the least. He’d spirited her away from the Valentine dance into a darkened room where he propped her against a table and threw up her skirts. Without so much as a kiss or a caress, he’d shoved his cock into her. When she cried out in pain, he’d clamped his hand over her mouth and told her to keep quiet. In what seemed like less than a minute, he was done. In retrospect, she was much better off without him.
She rubbed against the bundle of flesh, and a tingle radiated through her groin. Abigail arched her back and closed her eyes. A face did appear in her imagination but it wasn’t Robert’s. It was a rugged face, hardened by a frontier upbringing and his years as a lawman. Pressing her fingers into her well, she imagined Sheriff McNichol thrusting in her pussy with his hard cock. Her eyes sprang open, and she shot up in bed.
Why was she thinking about him—a man she’d only seen from a distance and wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to know better?
She got up off the bed and changed into a muslin chemise and her green, velvet dressing gown. Maybe a good book is what I need, she thought. She headed down to the second floor library and tried not to pay attention to the noises coming from the rooms she passed on the way. Abigail remembered from the tour Clarice had given her that this room, along with the large dining room and reception area directly below it, was lit by gas lamps. She felt for the switch on the wall inside the door. Fortunately, the library seemed to be the one room in the hotel where couples weren’t engaging in sex acts.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves held hundreds of books, and a custom-made billiard table took up the center of the room. A long, comfortable sofa was placed against one wall, and an overstuffed chair with matching ottoman sat in the corner. Abigail wandered over to a table where a book was displayed on a pedestal. Illustrations of couples in various sexual positions jumped out at her. Before she could stop it, her mind wandered once again to the handsome sheriff. She imagined herself as the woman in the picture, ankles wrapped around the Sheriff’s neck, while he filled her pussy with every inch of his cock. Abigail shook off the image in her head. Being in the Belle Amour is turning in me into a wicked woman, she thought. I should pack my things tomorrow and head back home to Richmond before I end up like Clarice.
She wandered over to some of the newer books and took down a copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. This is right up my alley, she thought. She reclined on the comfortable sofa and began reading. She didn’t get to page three before a young man burst through the door. By his appearance and the badge on his chest, she knew that he wasn’t a patron of the Belle Amour.
“You’ll have to come with me, ma’am,” he said. “You’re under arrest.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “For what? Reading?”
“The sheriff told me to round up everybody in the hotel. You’ll have to take that up with him.”
When they reached the head of the stairs leading down to the reception area, she saw him in all his raw maleness—hands on hips, shirt open to the second button revealing a little patch of blond chest hair.
“Why are you arresting the girls?” Clarice asked him. “We’ve always had an understanding, Zach.”
“The new U.S. Marshal wants this town cleaned up, and I have to take orders from him,” Sheriff McNichol responded. He paused when he looked up the stairs at Abigail. His eyes glazed over and the corners of his mouth raised in a half-smile “And where did you get this one, Clarice? I’ve seen her around town with you.”
Clarice shook her head. “Abigail isn’t one of my girls,” she said. “She’s my friend from back east. Let her go.”
He smiled. “We can sort it all out at the jailhouse,” he said and then paused, pointing a finger at Abigail. “Or, maybe she can help us make a little deal, Clarice.”
“What kind of deal?” Clarice asked.
“Jesse, bring her down here,” he said to the deputy. “And take everyone else into the ballroom.”
Abigail was in no mood to play games with the Sheriff no matter how often she’d imagined him loving her, or no matter that her whole body tingled when he reached out and ran this thumb across her chin.
“Give me this beautiful filly for my bed until tomorrow morning,” he said. “And I’ll continue to look the other way, so long as you and the girls are discreet about your business, and you don’t let the men become rowdy.”
Clarice glanced at her. “I told you. She’s not one of my girls. Abigail’s not even the kind of woman…”
“Oh, I think she is,” the Sheriff said, interrupting Clarice. “At any rate, why don’t we let her decide.”
“Abigail, you don’t have to do this,” Clarice said.
She had to admit that letting Sheriff McNichol have his way with her for one night certainly couldn’t be a fate worse than death. And if she did it and got it over with, it would put to rest the yearnings she’d been having for him.
“I agree to your deal,” she said.
Clarice took her by the arm and led her aside. “Abigail, are you sure about this? You’ve only had one experience with a man, and Sheriff McNichol may demand things from you that you aren’t prepared to give.”
“It’s time to stop taking care of me, Clarice. This time, let me take care of you.”
Abigail turned back to the Sheriff. “So starting now until daybreak tomorrow morning?”
His smile spread into a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Another young deputy approached the trio. “Sheriff, the Mayor is here,” he whispered. “He says it will be mutually beneficial if you let him go.”
“Daniel, take Mrs. Atkins into custody at the jailhouse, and tell Jesse to let everyone else go.”
“Can I at least put some clothes on, Sheriff?” Clarice asked.
He nodded without taking his eyes off of Abigail.
“Follow me up to my room,” Abigail said.
He reached for her hand. His touch warmed her. “No, not here,” he said. “We’ll go back to my place.”
“Just what I’ve always wanted,” Abigail said. “To be fucked in a seedy little room above the Sheriff’s office.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Come with me.”
She couldn’t have been more wrong about the location of her surrender. He took her to a large cabin on the outskirts of town near the meadow that Clarice had shown her earlier that day. He drove the buggy up to the barn, and Abigail could hear water running.
“Is there a river or stream nearby?” she asked.
“Yep, and there’s a small waterfall that you can stand under. It feels like heaven on a hot summer day,” he answered.
She jumped down from the buggy into his arms. In the light of the full moon, her hands looked so small on his broad shoulders. She looked up at his face, and his mouth came down on hers. She parted her lips for him, and his tongue darted inside. She caressed it with her own, and he pulled her closer with strong arms. Giving in to all of her imaginings, she sucked his tongue and raked her fingers through his hair.
He released her mouth, and ran his hands up and down her back.
“You’re not wearing a corset,” he said. “Let’s go inside and find out what you do have on under this fancy robe.”
He unlocked the front door and turned to her. “Wait while I light the lamps. I wouldn’t want you to trip over anything and get hurt.”
When he motioned her inside, she walked into a rustic but spacious room furnished with a couch and a couple of chairs. She could see doors leading off to other rooms. It seemed awfully big for a single man to occupy, but still, there was something homey about the decor. She would have been willing to bet that a woman decorated the place for him.
“Nice place,” she said. “Did you build it?”
He laughed. “Yeah, with my own two hands.”
“Was that a sarcastic answer or a truthful answer?”
“I do like you Abigail. I knew that I would.” His face became somber. “When I first came to Majestic Peak, I didn’t come alone. I was married, and my wife fell in love with this house. Unfortunately, she died from the influenza a few months after we moved in, so she never really got to enjoy living here.”
For some reason, his confession saddened her. “Oh, that’s terrible,” she said. “How long ago was that?”
“Two years,” he said. “For the first year after she died, I couldn’t live here.” He paused and flicked her chin his index finger. “I lived in that seedy little room above my office. Then one day, I decided to come back to my home, because I knew that’s what she would have wanted.”
She wanted to kiss him again. She touched his face, and he kissed her hand. Warmth settled in her abdomen, and her hands trembled as she untied the loops on her gown. She tossed the garment across a chair and allowed him a moment to look at her, knowing that the thin muslin chemise she wore left little to his imagination. He took her hands.
“Come over to the couch,” he said.
She followed him to the big, leather sofa, and he tugged at the hem of her chemise while he kissed her. She pulled it over her head and flung it to the floor. He caressed her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs before running his hand across the curve and swell of her buttocks and hips as if examining delicate china. What she lacked in tits, she did make up for on the bottom.
“Your ass is perfect. Round and wide,” he said as he moved her onto his lap straddling his legs.
It would have made a nice erotic picture for the hotel, she thought. She, naked on his lap like a temptress, and he fully clothed.
His hand moved lower brushing the inside of her thighs, sending a shiver up her spine that spread through her whole body. His hand cupped her womanly parts. His fingers moved in such a way that the aching need she’d been feeling in her groin returned, along with the slick moisture. She lowered her head and kissed him the way they’d kissed in the yard—all hunger and passion. His fingers played with her pussy, parting the lips before dipping inside her opening to massage her inner parts. His finger penetrated deep inside her. She couldn’t breathe and had to break off the kiss.
“Your cunt is very tight,” he said. “How many times have you been fucked?”
“Once.”
His fingers stilled. “What?”
“He took my virginity,” she said. “But he promised to marry me.”
“Oh, well, that’s an old story,” he said and probed deeper inside her, causing her breath to catch.
“When I found out that he had a pregnant wife, he paid me to keep my mouth shut. I took the money and came out here to see Clarice.”
“Have you known her a long time?”
“For as long as I can remember,” she said. “Our families were neighbors. We went to the same schools. I was her maid of honor when she married Harlan.”
With his free hand, he fondled her tits again, circling each nipple with his index finger until they became hard pebbles, aching to be sucked by his rough tongue. When his mouth covered on of the buds, her belly tightened, and her pussy wept around the fingers that were still exploring her.
“I had no idea that my new life would be in a whorehouse,” she said. “Or that I would end up being the sheriff’s personal whore.”
He removed his fingers from her pussy.
“I have to go back to town to take care of some business,” he said while lifting her off his lap. “But I won’t be gone more than thirty minutes.”
What? How could he take her so far and then drop her? What kind of game was he playing with her? Seeing the bulge in his pants when he stood up told her that he’d been just as aroused as she was.
“If you want to freshen up, the bath house is right outside the back door. If you want something to drink the hand pump in the kitchen sink brings in fresh, cool water from the stream out back. I have a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen cabinet but don’t get drunk. I want you to be sober when I fuck you.”
“There’s no danger of that, Sheriff. I don’t like the taste of whiskey.”
He bent down and kissed her, but she was too confused to kiss him back.
Abigail picked up one of the smaller lamps and went exploring. What am I doing naked and alone in this strange house? She hardly knew Sheriff McNichol but she couldn’t let Clarice sit in the Majestic Peak jail waiting the for the U.S. Marshal to charge her with operating a house of prostitution. She thought of Clarice’s family back in Richmond and what the news would do them and their reputations.
She wandered into a bedroom, but it didn’t look like the sort of room in which the Sheriff would sleep. It was too feminine with lace curtains on the window and a fancy quilt on the store-bought bed. She climbed the stairs to the loft. Yes, this was where he slept on the big bed that looked as if was rough-hewn and handmade. She set the lamp down on a small table and started to get under the covers, but it was a warm night. She folded the covers down across the end of the bed and laid down to wait for his return. She waited for what felt like the longest time. Is he coming back or has he left me this way to cause me humiliation? She wished she’d brought her book that she was reading.
A little while later, she heard a door open downstairs and his footsteps. She caught sight of him as he ascended the loft stairs. He was naked from the waist up and a towel hung over one shoulder. Has he bathed for me? That would be a considerate thing to do, she thought. His upper body was strong and muscled like a man who was no stranger to physical work. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
His mouth dropped open, and his eyes glazed over as he came near the bed. He placed his hand on top of her foot. From there, he ran his hand up her leg, pausing to entwine his fingers in the red curls between her thighs. Abigail held her breath. He continued across her abdomen and up to one breast where he stopped and pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger. She moaned.
Without taking his eyes off of hers, he sat down in the chair near the bed and removed his boots. He stood and unbuttoned his pants, revealing his thick, erect cock and thighs that were as muscular as his upper body. She pulled her knees up and opened her legs. He moved between them and cupped her face with his hands. His thumb caressed her lips before he took her mouth, pushing his tongue inside. She responded to his kiss and to the rock hard cock that was pressing against the v-shaped mound between her legs.
He broke off the kiss and stared down at her face.
“What’s your last name?” he asked.
“I guess I should properly introduce myself before you fuck me,” she said. “It’s Bingham.”
He raised up, sat back on his haunches and took his cock in hand. He rubbed the head of it through her red curls and penetrated her outer lips. She held her breath waiting for him to enter her. Instead, he placed his cockhead against that glorious spot just above her entrance and a pang shot through her abdomen causing her breath to catch and her belly to contract. Zach massaged the sweet nub until Abigail thought that she would scream. Just as she was about to reach that place that she’d discovered while pleasuring herself, Zach took his cock away.
“Turn over, Abigail and get up on your hands and knees,” he said.
She’d seen this position in the picture book in Clarice’s library, and she willingly complied if only to arrive quicker at that exquisite point where pain and pleasure mixed and her whole body gave in to it’s carnal nature. He penetrated her opening, and she exhaled the breath she’d been holding. With her first experience, there had been a sharp, stabbing pain, but this time, it was just the soreness of her body stretching to take in Zach’s girth. He kneaded her buttocks with his large hands, while he rocked his hips and pushed deeper inside her.
“Oh, oh,” Abigail cried out when the friction of his thrusts hit a spot that set her loins on fire.
When it seemed that he was completely filling her, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her backward so that she was sitting on him like the woman she’d seen in the ballroom. In this position, she could feel every inch of his organ inside her, pulsing with need and straining against her tight walls. She wished that they were back in her room so that she could look in the big mirror and see him inside of her. He grabbed her tits and squeezed her nipples causing her to arch her back and take more of his cock into her body.
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asked.
Unable to speak, she just nodded.
“Move your body the way it moves when you ride.”
Abigail rocked her hips, remembering the last time she’d ridden and the rhythm of the horse beneath her. Her inner walls rubbed his shaft in places of pleasure she’d never dreamed existed. She spread her legs and bent them at the knees, so that her movements could be bigger.
Zach groaned. “Oh, yeah. Fuck me, woman.”
He held her waist to keep her balanced while she bounced up and down on his rod. His cock penetrating deep into her body sent a searing heat through her insides, and she struggled to catch her breath. A new sensation, created by the rubbing of his organ’s thick base and the tickling of his man hair against the barrier between her pussy and her small asshole, caused her butt cheeks to tingle.
Brushing aside her long tendrils, he kissed her neck from her ear to her shoulder. He stopped and sucked one spot at the base of her neck while clutching her mound and sliding a finger inside the crease. Abigail whimpered when his rough fingertip found that spot again—that wonderful spot that took her breath away. A pang shot from the swollen nub into her chest, and all of her muscles clenched. She cried out, which only made Zach rub harder.
“Oh, please,” she cried. “You’re going to kill me,”
“Kill you with pleasure, woman,” he said.
As that little bundle of nerves took control of her body, her hips jerked faster, and her pussy tightened around his cock. She could feel the whole length and girth of it moving inside her.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” he said between clenched teeth.
Her legs started to tremble, and she could feel her heart pounding throughout her body. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy released a torrent of sweet juices. She let out another scream—louder and more intense than the first.
With his firm grasp still on her waist, he put her back on her knees and pounded her pussy several times. She could feel his balls slapping against her mound and his hairy thighs rubbing against the back of her legs. The thunderhead built deep in her belly again and radiated to her extremities. If she let herself go again, surely she would have a heart attack and die, she thought.
Zach’s breathing became ragged, and his thrusts came hard and fast. When he let out a long, low groan, Abigail felt warm, creamy liquid gush from her pussy and run down the inside of her thigh. His cock remained inside her for a few moments and then she felt it soften and slip out.
He massaged her back and butt cheeks.
“Lay down and catch your breath,” he said.
She dropped down onto her belly and tried to relax the beating of her heart. Zach got up off the bed and went to the wash basin where he took two wet cloths, soaked them and wrung them out in the water. He cleaned himself with one of the cloths and then came back to the bed and cleaned her with the other. In spite of the fact that she was sore and spent, his ministrations with the washcloth were threatening to arouse her again.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I got carried away, and I didn’t mean to finish inside you like that.”
She bit her bottom lip, remembering how scared she’d been for those three weeks after Robert had released his seed inside her. Even though he’d promised to marry her, she’d still been terrified. Somehow, the idea of carrying Zach’s baby didn’t fill her with so much dread.
“I could use a drink. Do you want something?” he asked.
She sat up in the bed. “A glass of water would be nice,” she said. “My throat is parched.”
She shifted position and winced at how tender her pussy was, and it was a long time until daybreak. Perhaps Clarice had been right in warning her. What she and Zach had done far outmatched her wildest imaginings. She laid back on the pillows and closed her eyes until she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
He came back with a glass of water and a smaller glass of golden brown liquid that she guessed was from the bottle of whiskey he had stashed in the kitchen. She took the water and swallowed enough to soothe her dry throat.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded while downing a gulp of whiskey.
“Why did you want me so badly?”
He grinned and grasped a tendril of her hair. “I wanted to see if your passion matched your hair color.”
“Oh, is that all? I saw at least two other redheads at the Belle Amour,” she said.
“No, that wasn’t all. When I saw you at the train station with Clarice, you looked so sweet, almost angelic, and none of Clarice’s girls could be described that way.” He paused and took another sip. “Then when you stared back at me, I saw the yearning in your eyes.”
“Really? I didn’t know you could see so much in my eyes,” she said.
Abigail set her glass on the table and moved between his legs. She reached out and touched the silky length of his semi-erect shaft.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Do you want me to pleasure you with my mouth?”
Zach closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Do you know how?”
“I’ve seen it done.”
“At the Belle Amour?”
She nodded. “I watched a woman sucking a man’s cock. She seemed to enjoy it.”
“Did you like watching it?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“Did it make you wet between your legs?”
Her cheeks blushed, and she nodded, but she didn’t tell him what she’d done afterward or what she’d discovered about her attraction to him.
He laughed. “Oh, Abigail, I knew you were a stick of dynamite just waiting to be lit.”
He covered her hand with his own and brushed his cockhead against her mouth. Her tongue darted out and gave the head a tentative lick, and it grew and stiffened in her hand. She covered the head with her mouth and swirled her tongue over it. He groaned. She widened her mouth to take in more of it, licking and sucking the hard ridges. To her surprise, she liked the feel of it in her mouth and the taste of the salty liquid that leaked from the slit. Wouldn’t the people back in Richmond think I’m a wanton woman if they could see me with a mouthful of cock? she thought. She moved her mouth up and down the shaft the way she’d seen Jillian do it. Her own loins ached and became wet again. She grazed the head with her teeth, and she saw his belly convulse.
“Oh, go slow,” he said.
She licked him from his balls to the tip and back down again. Using the tip of her tongue, she traced the rigid contours before covering the head with her mouth. She wrapped her hand around the shaft that was now hard as granite. Bobbing her head up and down, she fucked Zach’s cock with her mouth. She took as much as she could without gagging, and each time she went down, she tried to take more until the head was all the way at the back of her tongue. She sucked him hard and massaged his balls which tightened and contracted in her hand.
“Oh, ah,” he moaned. “You’re going to make me shoot off in your mouth.”
She looked up at him and nodded, smiling with her eyes. Zach’s abdomen rippled, and he shoved his fingers into her hair, holding her head down as the first juices spurted from the tip, filling Abigail’s mouth. It tasted a little like raw oysters, she thought and swallowed it down. He removed his hand from her head, and she pumped his cock with her mouth again. More cream shot out the opening, and she swallowed it, too. She removed her mouth and used her hand to coax out the last of his seed then licked it up.
It seemed to take Zach a while to catch his breath. When he finally did, he lifted her up to sit in his lap.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he said while sliding his fingers into her pussy. “And you liked it you little hussy. You’re soaking wet.”
Her hips moved in response to his touch, and she arched her breasts up toward his mouth. He bent his head and claimed a nipple that was ripe for the sucking. She ran her fingers through his hair.
“Oh, I never knew anything could feel so good,” she said.
He nibbled the tender bud with his teeth while stroking her pussy with his fingers. Her hips flexed, and her sex tightened around the finger he inserted.
“Mmm, someone is ready to be fucked again,” he said.
His cock stiffened against the back of her leg, while he continued to pleasure her with his fingers.
“Why did you want me so badly, Abigail? And don’t say you’re only doing this to free Clarice—not after the way you sucked my cock.”
She ran her hand across his muscled chest and down his flat abdomen. “Curiosity,” she said. “Ever since I saw you, I’ve had…imaginings. Being in the Belle Amour has done something to me.”
“Really? Maybe the legends are true,” he said.
She straightened. “Legends?”
“Clarice didn’t tell you? Majestic Peak is supposedly an ancient Indian ceremonial ground. When couples were married, they would come to this mountain to consummate their marriages. The Indians believed there was some force present here that made people horny.”
“Horny?”
He laughed. “You’ve never heard that expression? It means you have a strong urge to fuck.”
That certainly described how she’d been feeling.
“When white men first came here to mine the silver out of the mountain,” he said. “There was a whorehouse built on the same spot where the Belle Amour sits today. It was called Miss Sally’s House of Pleasure. Rumor has it that men came from all over the territory, because Miss Sally’s girls could fuck better than the best whores anywhere else.”
Abigail laughed. “And so you think I’m being tempted by some ancient Indian sex spirit?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “When Miss Sally died, the town tore the old whorehouse down, because they wanted a new and better image for Majestic Peak. Several years later, Harlan came along and bought the place. After hearing about the legend, he decided that the Belle Amour would be a honeymoon hideaway in the Rockies. You tell me why his widow would turn the place into a bordello.”
She shook her head. “I can’t answer that. The Clarice that I grew up with was always a little wild, but I would have never imagined this.”
“I will say one thing for her,” he said. “She runs a very high-class establishment, catering to men with plenty of money to spend.”
Rolling her over and pulling her legs up around his waist, he drove deep into her pussy with his first thrust. She was still a little sore from the first time they’d fucked, but the pain quickly gave way to pleasure. He pumped harder and deeper, as if he knew that she loved the way he filled and stretched her. Like the picture she’d seen in the book, she lifted her legs as high as she could and wrapped her ankles around his neck. She raised her head and looked down so that she could see his cock moving in and out of her. The sight fueled her desire, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.
Her breath caught when his fingers went to work on all of her private parts from back to front. With one finger he teased her small puckered hole, while he used the large pad of his thumb to work his magic on that wonderful little knot. Her legs and arms trembled. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, Zach inserted his large middle finger into her ass.
“Ooh, Oh, Zach,” she cried out as the unfamiliar intrusion caused a burning pain, but it also sent a tingle up her spine.
His finger plugging her small hole made her pussy grip his cock even tighter. As if they had a mind of their own, her hips rocked and bucked against his penetrations.
“You like that, don’t you? Before the night’s over, I’ll fuck your beautiful ass,” he said.
Whether it was the influence of ancient spirits or not, she wanted to be fucked by this man in every way possible. The movement of his cock in her pussy matched the rhythm of his thumb as it massaged her nub. Abigail could feel her blood pumping through her body and her pulse pounding in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, and at that moment, she was glad that Zach lived a mile away from his nearest neighbor. The scream she let out could have awakened the dead. She opened her eyes when she felt Zach’s warm seed pelting her belly.
The sun streaming brightly through the window awakened Abigail, and it took her a moment to realize that she was alone in the bed. She pulled her chemise on over her head and went downstairs. The back door was open, and she walked outside past the bathhouse and outhouse. Where was he? She heard the running water again and remembered him telling her about the waterfall. She followed the well-worn path and saw him standing naked under the rushing water bathing himself. All of her desires came to the surface again. His body reminded her of the statues of Greek gods she’d seen in the art museum back in Richmond.
“Good morning,” he said. “Want to join me.”
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. She’d lost count of how many times they’d fucked during the night before finally falling asleep from exhaustion. Yet, he looked and acted refreshed and raring-to-go, and she could only imagine how terrible she must look.
“Isn’t the water cold?” she asked.
“At first,” he said. “Until you get used to it. It’s just too warm to fire up the cauldron and take a hot bath.”
In his opinion, she thought. But my sore butt could use a hot bath.
“If it’s all the same,” she said. “I’d rather head back to town and get Clarice out of jail. I don’t want her to sit in that cell a minute longer.”
He stepped down from the rocky ledge and waded to the bank. He dried himself with the towel he’d dropped in the grass.
“Well, that won’t be necessary,” he said.
Abigail’s heartbeat sped up. She crossed the grass and stood in front of him.
“Please don’t tell me that you’re reneging on our deal, because I would be very angry with you.”
He placed his hands on her arms. “I’ve already reneged on our deal, but on my end—not yours.”
She backed away from him. “What? I don’t understand.”
“When I left last night and went back to town, I tore up the charges and let Clarice go.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she started to tremble.
“And it just slipped your mind to tell me when you came back,” she said. “You didn’t think that was something I needed to know.”
He inhaled a deep breath and looked down at the ground. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted you, Abigail. I guess I thought you might change your mind about last night…”
“You lying bastard,” she said.
She balled her fist and swung at him, but he grabbed her wrist and whipped her around. A hard slap landed across her backside. The first blow stung through the thin layer of muslin covering her ass cheeks. He gave her another smack, not quite as hard as the first but enough to raise her ire.
“You need calm down,” he said.
She wrenched her wrist out of his grip and skittered away.
“Abigail, get back here,” Zach called after her.
She trembled with anger and…something else…desire. Heaven help her, she did desire him. He’d taken her to heights of euphoria she’d never known existed. She ran back in the house and pulled on her dressing gown, making sure to secure all of the loops. She could walk the mile back to town, if necessary.
He charged in the back door and flung the towel across the back of the couch. She turned her back. The last thing she wanted at the moment was to be enticed by the sight of his naked body.
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