Authors: Natasha Stories
My one and
only plane ride in my life had taken me from St. Louis to St. George and my
father’s keeping. It wasn’t an experience I was interested in repeating, so we
decided to drive. It was now nearly two, and the drive to St. George would take
four hours, with another three hours on to Kingman. Russ said if it was all the
same to me, he’d like to show me a little of Salt Lake and finish our trip
tomorrow, when we were fresh. That suited me fine; I wasn’t at all eager to
enter the lion’s den.
Russ opened
his laptop to see what might be fun to do here tonight. The mid-October
afternoon was absolutely perfect, much warmer than Wyoming had been. We decided
to walk around Temple Square and Russ wanted to take me shopping for some
clothes of my own. Later, he had a surprise, but he wouldn’t tell me what it
was.
I have to
admit, I went crazy in ZCMI. Russ followed me, watching carefully what I
touched, what I looked at with longing. Then he took me to a sales woman and
told her to put me in a dressing room and have me try several things that he
liked among those I had appeared interested in.
The fabrics
were divine, soft, silky dresses that draped in such a way that my curves were
emphasized, while my waist looked too tiny to be real in the mirror . Each
outfit had to be tried on, a pair of shoes brought to complement it, and the
look shown to Russ, who sat like a king and signaled which ones he liked. I
thought we were just playing, but after the first session, at ZCMI, we had so
many shopping bags that I wondered where I was going to put the clothes in my small
suitcase.
When he
ushered me into Macy’s, I told Russ that it was too much, and I didn’t want to
do it again. He continued into the store without a word, purchased a matched
set of luggage that would have accommodated a wardrobe for the Queen of England,
and grinned at me unrepentantly when I scolded him. Then we visited the
lingerie department, where he bought everything a girl’s heart could desire,
including bras that fit me. At last, there would be no more stuffing myself
into Denise’s smaller cups.
We checked
into a nice downtown hotel, where he told me that the clothes I was wearing
would be perfect for our evening. In keeping with the jeans and flannel shirt,
he took me to a barbecue place for dinner, where there were buckets of peanuts
on the tables, and shells on the floor. The food was delicious.
Afterward, we
drove a few miles to a sort of museum, a working farm in the middle of one of
the closer suburbs, where an elaborate haunted house was set up for the entire
month before Halloween. Russ told me that there were several others, but this
one had been his favorite as a kid, a tradition his parents kept every year. He
enjoyed squiring me through the attractions, laughing uproariously at my
screams when someone jumped out of the shrubbery with a chain saw and drove me
to take refuge in his arms.
It was more
fun than I’d had since I was a young girl, and the delight on Russ’s face every
time I shrank into his protective embrace made me love him all the more. In a
sober moment, I realized that our mutual enjoyment of this silly entertainment
might mean we were compatible out of bed, too, and that gave me hope that
someday I could be worthy of his love. It was a wonderful evening, marred only
by the realization that I would soon be on my way to an unknown fate.
§
The drive
south was uneventful, a different sort of scenery than that which I had driven
through on the drive north. Utah is a mountainous state in the middle, with
large areas of desert on both the east and west borders. I had driven a tortuous
route through the mountains, skirting them on the east side once I got through
them. I15, however, slashed down toward the southwest corner of the state, with
the peaks a few miles to the east where they were easily visible, but not for
the most part in the way of the road, which stretched straight and level into
the distance.
Russ explained
that most people ignored the speed limit in a headlong rush to get from Salt
Lake City to Las Vegas, six hours away, in only four or five hours. I could
believe it as car after car passed us. Russ seemed to understand I was in no
hurry to make it to Kingman, so he kept to the speed limit, in spite of the
people who tailgated him until they could make their way into the faster lanes
to the left.
We lunched in
St. George, which I remembered as a rather small town. Apparently there had
been a building boom that took advantage of its year-round mild temperatures;
it was much bigger than I remembered. I gave a passing thought to Johnny, but
said nothing to Russ. Johnny was my past; Russ, with any luck, my future. After
I had weathered my legal storm, educated myself and proved I was an adult by
getting a job, of course.
We arrived in
Kingman just before four, and before he made his way to the district attorney’s
office, Russ checked me into the nicest hotel he could find. Kissing me gently,
he told me not to worry, handed me the TV remote, and left. We had arranged
that he would call me if the news was good, and come straight to the hotel to
get me if not.
Russ was so confident
that it would be good that we hadn’t discussed whether he would run away with
me or have me turn myself in if it wasn’t. Unable to concentrate on any of the
silly TV programs, I stared at the set without seeing it until the phone in the
room rang, making me jump.
“Hello?” I
could barely hear myself. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello?”
Stronger this time.
Russ spoke
from the other end of the line, “Kitten, you’re all set. We have a meeting with
the DA in the morning to take your deposition. I have a written memo of
immunity for you in my hand. Put on your favorite of your new dresses, we’re
going to paint the town red!”
From what I
had seen of Kingman on the drive to the hotel, I seriously doubted if there was
anything worth painting, but I was so happy in my relief, that Russ’s request
for me to dress up matched my need to celebrate perfectly. I was putting the
final touches on an elaborate braided up-do when he strode into the room and
ruined my effort by picking me up and twirling me around before I had enough
pins in it to hold it. After which, he set me on my feet and finished the job
by running both his hands through it and tugging slightly as he devoured me in
kisses.
“Russ, if you
ruin this dress like you just ruined my hair, I’m going to be very annoyed,” I
said, having no more dire a threat to match my severe tone. His wonderful laugh
rang out, and he apologized for ruining my hairdo.
“Leave it
down, Kitten, I love it that way.”
I tried to
explain that waist-length unruly red hair didn’t go with the elegant green silk
dress, but he took my face in his hands and said to me very earnestly,
“Whatever you do, from now on, know that you will
set
the fashion, not
follow it. There are still things you don’t know about me, woman. I’m going to
take you on the ride of your life.”
I couldn’t
imagine what he meant, so I just smiled at him. He had bought me the elegant
dress. If he wanted me to wear it with my hair flying around my shoulders, then
so be it. I was seriously overdressed, even for the best restaurant in town.
Embarrassed at the stares, I ducked my head and looked neither left nor right,
but when I sneaked a peek to see how Russ was taking it, he looked proud to
have me on his arm, so I stood taller and tried to match his confidence.
§
That night,
back in the hotel, Russ had me stand still in the middle of the room while he
undressed me, slowly and reverently. He steadied me as he lifted each foot and
removed the shoe, dropping me a good four inches to my normal five-foot three.
Lifting my hair, he combed through it with his fingers, sniffed it and sighed,
“You smell so good, Kitten!” I signaled my happiness by reaching to hold his
hand against my cheek and pressing into it, content to immerse myself in the
exquisite pleasure he would bring to me.
Turning me so
that my back was to him, he slowly unzipped the long zipper, letting his hand
linger on my bottom when he got there. Turning me around again to face him,
Russ gazed into my eyes while he lifted the straps from my shoulders and slid the
dress down my arms. He kept his eyes on mine as he dropped the dress so that I
could step out of it.
Only then did
he drop his eyes to my breasts, spilling out of a half-cup bra that was
designed to push my cleavage to the strategic cut-out in the bodice of the
dress. Green satin, to match the silk of the dress, the bra was edged with lace
that he ruffled with his thumb. Everything this man did when we made love set
me on fire, but this time the heat would have melted diamonds.
My nipples
wanted to escape that bra so badly that I threw my shoulders back in an attempt
to push them out over the tops of the cups. I needn’t have worried. Russ’s
thumb dipped into the bra and flipped out a taut bud, rolling it between thumb
and forefinger, before doing the same with the other breast. I moaned, and
leaned into him.
His grin was
lazy and oh, so sexy as he put both arms around me to release the catch on my
bra, allowing my straining breasts to spring into his chest. He tossed the bra
aside and returned his attention, and his hands, to the slow exploration of my
breasts and nipples that sent electric sparks through me and started the
melting in my core that he’d soon savor. Drawing me with him, Russ sat on the
edge of the bed, with my body positioned between his knees, and took one nipple
into his lips.
A flick of the
tongue, a nip of his teeth, and I was arching helplessly into him, begging him
to take the nipple and areola fully into his mouth and suck.
“What will you
do for me if I do, Kitten?” His voice was soft, as were the feather-light
strokes his hands were giving my nipples.
“Anything.
Whatever you want. Please, Russ.”
“Call me your
love.”
“My love,
please.”
His mouth
engulfed one nipple as I clutched his head to my body. If he hadn’t been
holding me, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, my knees would have buckled at
the sensation of pure pleasure flooding me. Pushing back against my hands, he
moved to the other breast, giving it equal attention, as one hand crept around
to push my panties down and dip into the gathering moisture he found between my
thighs.
Now I was
having serious issues standing up, and a burning desire to kneel and take him
into my mouth overcame me. As I sank to my knees before him, he whispered, “Ah,
god, my Kitten, that’s so good.”
He allowed me
only a few moments to pleasure him, though, before he got up and lifted me
easily onto the bed, turning me onto my stomach and capturing my arms behind me
with one big hand around both wrists. He nudged at my calves until I got the
idea and pulled my knees under me, gasping with raw sexual need when his tongue
worked between my innermost folds and traced a trail of fire up over my
perineum to the small entrance above.
At the touch
of his tongue on my anus, I flinched, lifted my head from the pillow and
gasped, “Russ, what are you doing?”
“This is what
I want, Kitten, but not now. Someday you will beg me to take you this way. For
now, you aren’t ready.”
How could he
read me so well? I hadn’t objected, only questioned. I would have given him
what he wanted, because my heart was overflowing with love and gratitude, even
though I didn’t think I would have enjoyed it. He couldn’t see my face, how did
he do it?
My thoughts
were interrupted by the tongue of fire tracing back down and into the exposed
entrance to my core. Thrusting with his tongue and wiggling inside me, he drove
me to biting the pillow under my face to keep from shrieking my pleasure and
bringing hotel security to our door. Then as abruptly as it had entered me, his
tongue was gone, and I felt the engorged head of his shaft pushing where it had
been seeking entry.
Russ kept
nudging my legs with his, urging me to lift my ass higher, while his hands
pushed under me to knead my breasts. Finally, he had me where he wanted me, and
his hands seized my hips, pulling me into him and pushing himself into me with
regular, crashing thrusts that made me gasp.
The
overwhelming sensations sent thrills through my entire body, but my pussy got
the best of it. Each thrust brought me to the brink until I spilled over and
shook with the powerful frenzy of orgasm. Then I heard his groan that meant he
was nearly there…followed by the exquisite sensation of his hot seed flooding
my passage and coating me inside like thick, warm cream. Spent, I collapsed
with Russ’s weight pinning me to the bed. When I could speak, all I could say
was, “Oh, god!”
His chuckle
tickled my back where his mouth was pressed against my upper spine. “Russ, or
Lover, will do, Kitten. You don’t have to call me god.” I giggled. As a matter
of fact, if he would do that again, I’d call him god and mean it. I wiggled
until he rolled off of me and then turned to face him. I wanted nothing more
than to bury myself in his embrace and stay there forever.
The following
morning found us in the office of the district attorney, where I swore to the
truthfulness of the affidavit that Russ´s attorney had prepared. I was free to
go, with the stipulation that I would return to testify when called. The
thought had me quaking in my shoes, especially when I remembered that my dad
was among the accused. Russ had asked about leniency for him, but it would
depend on several factors, none of which we could control.
After our
meeting, we had lunch, then started back for Salt Lake City, where we would
spend the night again before returning to the ranch. I had little to say on the
way back. I was depressed about my dad, and the meeting had felt like an
anticlimax after all the stress I had suffered over the possibility I would be
charged with auto theft.
I was also
worried about the children. The DA had said that the women wouldn’t be charged,
since they were victims. But their husbands, and therefore their livelihood,
would be gone. In addition, made cynical by the past few years of betrayal, I
didn’t trust the authorities not to remove the children to foster homes. It had
happened before.
Russ seemed to
understand, and left me to my thoughts as the miles passed. I must have fallen
asleep at some point, because I woke with a start as we took an exit ramp near
the hotel where we’d spend the night before completing our trip back at the
ranch. My mood was still gloomy, as I was groggy from sleeping in the car. It
didn’t help that I had begun to feel that our return to the ranch was the
beginning of the end.
Now that my
legal status was settled, there was no more reason to avoid getting on with my
life, and that meant leaving the ranch and getting to St. Louis, if Russ would
agree to lend me the money for a bus ride from Rawlins.
After checking
into the hotel, Russ asked what I’d like to do for dinner and afterward. I
really didn’t feel like doing anything, so I told him room service would be
fine and that I’d watch TV or go to bed after that. I should have known better
than to think that would be acceptable. With two swift strides, he was at my
side, swinging me into his arms and tilting my chin so he could see my face. I
cast my eyes down, unable to meet his gaze.
“Kitten,
what’s wrong?” Such tender words, spoken in such an angry tone. I could only
shake my head, because I didn’t want to cry. “Tell me,” he insisted.
“I don’t
know,” I answered, knowing it wouldn’t fly.
“That’s a
cop-out and you know it. Tell me what’s wrong or I’ll spank you again.” His low
chuckle, meant to jolly me out of my funk, only made me more stubborn.
“I’d rather
you didn’t touch me right now, Russ. Please let me go.”
“No. If a
spanking won’t put you in a better mood, we’ll sit here and talk until I know
what’s wrong, but you’re not going to shut me out.” Now he was genuinely angry,
and I was a little frightened of the intensity he showed.
“Russ, it’s
not that I’m shutting you out.” I sighed. That wasn’t going to fly. “Okay, I’ll
tell you. I’m depressed about my dad’s situation, confused, tired and most of
all, upset because I know I have to get on with my life and I have no idea how
to do it. I don’t know what I’m going to do, other than go to my mother. I
don’t know if she will take me in, I don’t know how I’ll be able to get a job,
go to school, do all the things I should have been doing for the past three
years and become a normal, adult woman with a future. And now I feel
responsible for all those women and their kids. It’s exhausting to think
about.”
The words
poured out of me, some of them surprising me because I hadn’t consciously
thought those thoughts. By the end of my explanation, my voice had risen an
octave, my throat constricted with unshed tears. I’d have given anything not to
have dumped all that on Russ, but my compulsive truthfulness had once again
betrayed me. Miserably, I stared at the floor.
“Kitten.” The
word, the voice, were soft and tender, and served to release my tears. They ran
unchecked down my cheeks as Russ pulled me into his chest to hold me.
“Sweetheart, don’t worry. I’m here for you. I’ll help you with all that.”
“My god, we’ve
beaten this subject to death. I can’t accept your help, beyond the loan of some
money for the bus. What we feel isn’t real. It’s something that happened
because of the cabin, that’s all. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, I do,
but I have to move on.” Exhaustion, both physical and mental, weighed on me and
I didn’t want to argue any more.
His only
response was to hold me tighter. I couldn’t see a solution. With no money, no
clothes of my own that he hadn’t purchased for me, no transportation even, I
had no choice but to let him take me back to his ranch, where I hoped to
persuade him to let me go. Failing that, I’d hitchhike to Rawlins, assuming I
could get there without freezing to death, and throw myself on the mercy of
Traveler’s Aid or the welfare office. Somehow, I had to take control of my own
fate.
Eventually we
ordered something from room service, which I was unable to take more than two
or three bites of before it turned to dust in my mouth. I did finish a glass of
wine that Russ had ordered with the dinner. And then a second. For someone who
was unaccustomed to alcohol, that was all it took to send me to sleep, fully
dressed, on the king-sized bed.
Early the
following morning, I woke with a pounding head in a familiar position; naked,
with Russ wrapped around me. I knew now that he would not have taken advantage
of me while I slept, but he had obviously undressed me and put me to bed.
I could have
complained that he didn’t put a nightgown on me, or that he was naked also, but
in truth, it was comforting to wake up in his arms. I was getting used to it,
and that was a dangerous state of affairs. I needed to stay strong to follow my
plan against his opposition. Enjoying his nearness wasn’t helping. I shifted
away from him, but Russ drew me back, like a kid cuddling a teddy bear, and
trapped me there in his embrace.
Resigning
myself to remain where I was until he woke up, I closed my eyes and tried to go
back to sleep. Before long, though, nature called insistently. I was going to
have to untangle myself and go to the bathroom. Doing so woke Russ, who
protested sleepily.
“I’ll be back.
Just need the toilet.”
“Mmmph, ‘kay.
Hurry back.” I wasn’t even sure he was completely awake, thought he would
probably be asleep again when I returned. Instead, I found him propped on one
elbow, sweeping the sheet and blanket out of the way so I could climb back into
the bed. The sight of his cock, erect and ready for me, almost made me forget
the jackhammer at my temple.
“Feel like
foolin’ around?” he drawled.
“Don’t tempt
me,” I said, crawling back into bed with him, but meaning that I would go along
with whatever happened. My brain knew I should stop having sex with him, but my
body wasn’t in agreement, and I couldn’t deny it. My nipples were harder than
bullets under his hooded gaze, and the moisture was already gathering between
my thighs. When Russ took my hand and guided it to his erection, the choice was
taken from me. My hand contracted around it with no volition of my own.
“So you
do
feel like it,” Russ said.
“Not really. I
have a headache,” I answered, but my hand was stroking him and my traitorous
body rolled to plaster itself against his.
“That’s not
very original,” he murmured.
“Not meant to
be. I really do have a headache. I’m not used to wine.”
Instantly, he
was concerned, and he grabbed my hand to stop its stroking. “I’m sorry, Kitten.
We don’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
“You are the
most confusing, contradictory woman I’ve ever known,” he said, exasperated. But
his arms came around me, leaving my hand free to continue its mission, and his
erection grew again in my hand.
Russ had always
kept me guessing which lover I was with at any given time. He could love me
with slow, exquisite tenderness, bring me to orgasm over and over with his
fingers and his lips before entering me to take his own pleasure. Or he could
use my body for his pleasure primarily, mine coming only from the masterful
control he wielded. He also seemed to know that I loved pleasuring him with my
mouth, always, but never more so than when he demanded it and made me struggle
to take him deep into my throat, his incredible length and thickness almost
impossible for me to handle, though with practice I was getting better at it.
This morning, he
was playful, and in spite of my half-hearted agreement, Russ seemed determined
to jolly me out of my moodiness. Pushing me away, he said sternly, “I don’t
recall saying you could touch my cock.” His face was serious. Even though I
knew it was a game, that stoic face didn’t brook argument. Then he rolled to
his side, his back to me.
I thrilled to
the challenge, spoken in his deep, sexy voice, knowing this game. Without
protesting that he had put my hand there in the first place, I said in the
smallest, meekest voice I had, “Please, Russ, please may I touch your cock?”
Just saying the words caused me to tighten inside. Fuck the headache, I really
wanted this.
“I’ll think
about it. Stand up and let me look at you.” I got off the bed and walked around
to enter his view where he was now lying, stretched out on his side, lazily
stroking his erection. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. This was the hardest for
me to obey, something buried deep in my past inhibiting me from touching myself
intimately for his inspection. But, I had done it before, and I knew that once
I overcame my shy reluctance, it would be the ultimate turn-on. Aside from
watching his big hand doing what
I
wanted to do, that is.
Licking my
lips, I put my forefinger in my mouth and wet it, then reached between my legs.
“Spread your legs, I want to see what you’re doing.” My nipples contracted at
his forceful demand, and silently I obeyed. After a moment, Russ impatiently
scooted toward the middle of the bed, saying, “Your hand’s in the way, I can’t
see. Get on the bed, on your back, and pull your legs up.” A tiny movement of
his jaw betrayed his growing arousal, and I could see the dewdrop clinging to
the tip of his engorged rod, swelling each time his fist stroked upward. I
would have given anything to take it on the tip of my tongue, but that wasn’t
what he’d told me to do.
I obeyed,
splaying my legs to expose my pussy and swollen clit. “Now play with yourself again,
and I want to see you feeling it.” I dipped my middle finger into the source of
my moisture, beginning to pant with the lascivious titillation that overtook me
as I performed for my man. Eyes half-closed in languorous arousal, I watched
his face as he watched my fingers playing my flooded sex like a musical
instrument. His eyes grew narrow as he licked his lips, watching avidly for the
first clue that I was ready to come. When I tensed, the orgasm threatening to
spill over, Russ barked, “Stop!”
I jerked my
hand away, fearful that another second would bring the orgasm that he didn’t
want me to have yet, and my eyes flew open to meet his. Stormy blue met green
and a flash of tenderness passed through his before they grew stern again.
“Would you
like me to let you suck my cock?” he inquired roughly, breath ragged and jaw
clenched. The member in question was still grasped in his hand, his thumb
circling the underside of the head.
“Oh, yes, I
would.” I breathed. More than anything, now that he’d teased me with the
thought that I could.
“How do we
ask?”
“Please.
Please Russ, may I suck your cock?” Getting a bit carried away, but no longer
playing a role, I went on, “Please, god,
please,
may I suck it until you
come?”
“We’ll see. You
may touch it, and suck it. But you must stop immediately if I say so, do you
understand?”
“Yes, Russ.
Thank you,” I added, looking at him from under my lashes and wringing a grin
from him before he put on the stern face again. Because I had made him break
character, he added a twist.
“Turn around
and straddle my chest. I want to see you play with yourself while you suck my
cock.”
I gasped. This
was going to be hard, since I needed a hand to support myself and I liked to
grasp him at the root while I went down on him. But he was in charge, so I
would do as he’d directed, knowing it would be ultra-hot. Turning, I straddled
him, and then yelped when his hand smacked my opened bottom, delivering a
stinging slap to my clit.
“Go ahead,”
Russ said, “Suck, and get that hand back here to stroke yourself. Now.”
I lowered my
head, taking him into my mouth without being able to guide him, since both
hands were occupied. It was all I could do to obey his directive to play with
myself, because each stroke caused me to twitch and gasp, loosening my mouth
and tongue on his engorged rod.
“Put your
fingers in,” the order dimly heard but immediately obeyed as I dipped my middle
finger in and out, alternating with strumming my clit. He let me struggle for a
few more minutes, and then said, “I’ll take it from here.” Before I could
react, he thrust what must have been three fingers into me, and rubbed my
quivering clit in a circle with his thumb. I screamed with the surprise of it,
and immediately dissolved into the orgasm that had been hovering for a while.