A Mail Order Bride Ch. 01

I watched Jonas tending the mare and cleaning the new colt, and I think for the first time really saw him and how attractive he was. Jonas was a big man, tall well over six feet and probably close to two hundred pounds. He was solidly built, with a hard, strong body sculpted from years of working out of doors wrangling horses and running cattle. His dark hair was just beginning to show strands of gray that complimented his tanned complexion and chiseled facial features. His piercing, steely grey eyes, and stern, no-nonsense mouth were highlighted by the lines and creases earned through a lifetime of hard work were made even more noticeable by the unexpected appearance of a deep dimple in his right cheek that became obvious when he laughed.

In the evenings, I would hear him when he rode up, shouting instructions to his foreman before he washed up and came into the house. I always had his supper ready, and the small kitchen would be filled with the scent of whatever I had prepared for him. He would take his seat at the table and patiently wait while I made a plate for him. In the short time that we had been together, I think he realized that despite his first impression, I was, in fact, an excellent cook and housekeeper, and though he had never said as much, I knew he was secretly impressed and appreciative of my efforts.

*****

Gradually, as winter softened into spring, I noticed a softening of Jonas' attitude and demeanor towards me. Of course, he could still be gruff and short with me, often letting me know that he was disappointed with me and threaten to divorce me and send me back to Wisconsin. It didn't, however, take long for me to realize that when he acted or said hurtful things to me, it was usually when I had been defiant or refused to let myself be intimidated by him. He hated this; he hated losing control over me.

At other times in spite of himself, he could be thoughtful and considerate. Sometimes if he took me into town with him, I would feel the light pressure of his hand on my back as we walked through the streets from shop to shop. I was flattered by his protectiveness, the way he would cross in front of me, or gently pull me to him if people, particularly other men, came to close. I remember once Matt and I were in the stables, and in casually I mentioned this to Matt, and he chuckled a little to himself and said, "Jonas, is a man who has a strong sense of what belongs to him . . . he was letting other men know that you were his, that you belonged to him."

Jonas McQuade

Grudgingly I had to acknowledge that my feelings toward her were slowly changing. In the evenings after supper, when we would sometimes talk about ourselves, our previous lives, I came to understand that she had had a difficult time after her great aunt died. She told me of the incident involving a trusted, respected family friend who had come to the house after her great aunt had passed. He had arrived one evening to "pay his respects," but had actually come for something else entirely. He had exposed himself to Katie, and though he wanted more, the bastard had eventually forced her to take off her clothes and jerk him off until he finally came, filling her hand with his thick white cum. When she spoke about that incident, it was clear that the experience had traumatized her and she was in fear of him coming back again and wanting her to do more. It was easy to understand why she had felt compelled to answer that mail order bride application and leave her hometown.

*****

Katie was slowly proving me wrong about everything, without being aware, changing my initial feelings about her. To say she was a good cook and managed the house well was an understatement. Katie, in spite, her youth was smart, eager, and willing to learn. It gave me a good feeling to watch her with the horses, her gentleness and kindness obvious. These qualities were not restricted to the animals; the ranch hands liked and respected her as well.

I knew my feelings were beginning to change toward her when one day, while in town picking up some repaired ironwork at the blacksmith's, I saw a stove for sale, an old Empire wood burning stove. I thought of Katie bending over that hot, dangerous hearth cooking and before I realized it, I had bought the stove . . . for her.

Katie had been my wife for almost three months. Thinking of what had happened to her before, it was sometimes all I could do to keep my distance and not pressure her sexually. Hell, she was just a girl really, and though a married woman now, she was still relatively naive and inexperienced. I felt if I waited for her, didn't frighten her, we would sooner than later enjoy marital sex, it would happen on its own.

Katie Alston

Jonas had never been overtly sexual with me, and for that, I was grateful. Though there was no physical intimacy between Jonas and me, our relationship, at least to me, seemed to be a comfortable one of cooperation. Because he had treated me in all other ways as his wife, I, foolishly, naively thought he was satisfied with the relationship as well. Then, one evening after supper, we had sat at the table talking and laughing unguardedly, unselfconsciously about something of no importance when he suddenly became quiet and sat looking at me as if for the first time. Feeling self-conscious, I remember, finally standing up and after gathering, the soiled dishes took them to the dish basin to be washed. As I stood with my back to him, I felt him come up behind me and press himself so close to me I could feel his hardness. I stood there, unsure of what he was doing until I felt his hand slip under my blouse and cup my breast.

"Oh Katie," . . . he said, his warm breath against my cheek.

"What are you doing, stop . . . stop," I said, pulling away from him.

"What are you doing?" I asked again as a wave of unexpected panic washed over me.

I stood looking up at Jonas, and the expression on my face, and my reaction must have surprised him as much as they surprised me. Jonas, with a questioning look on his face, turned and walked out of the house.

"Oh my God, what had just happened? I thought, what just happened?"

*****

Neither of us spoke of what had happened.

Jonas was gone most of the next day, and that evening when he got home, after tending to his horse and washing up, he came inside. A bit quieter and more subdued than he usually was, he sat down to eat his supper.

Though not rude, he was dismissive toward me and ate his supper without much conversation. When he had finished, pushing his empty plate aside went out and got more wood for the night's fire. Returning to the table, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and lit up one of his cigars as I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen area.

It had been an exhausting day, and as the hour grew late, I changed into my nightgown and went and sat in the old rocking chair near the stove and began to brush my hair absently. I was surprised when I looked up and saw Jonas quietly watching me before he quickly looked away. Eventually, I must have dozed off there in the rocker. When I awoke, I was lying on the bed with a light blanket covering me. Through half-closed eyes, I could see Jonas at the table working. As sleep overtook me again, I closed my eyes and welcomed it.

In what I thought was a dream, I felt large, hands caressing my breasts and then the buttons of my gown being impatiently undone. My eyes opened, and there bending over me was Jonas.

"Stop, Katie, stop!" he growled as I tousled against him. I managed to get off the bed and tried to run, but he grabbed at my gown from the back, and I could hear the fabric rip when he spun me around.

"Let go of me . . . let go of me," I screamed.

The look on his face was frightening . . . wide, wild eyes that were glazed and lust filled.

"It's my right! This is my right!" Jonas kept saying. Confused at first, I quickly understood what was happening and began to struggle and push his hands away; panicking, I kept trying to get away from him. In my naivety, and with so many other thoughts and emotions flooding my mind, the reality that he would want to use me in this way against my will in all truth had not occurred to me.

"Take your nightgown off," he ordered.

"Get your clothes off, Katie," he said again, more threateningly, and before I could move, he reached out and tore the front of my nightgown open and yanked it off my shoulders.

This was so unlike Jonas . . . he was scaring me badly.

Speechless with shocked surprise, I stood in front of him naked from my waist up, trying to cover myself with my hands, my eyes brimming over with tears.

He pulled me down onto the wooden floor, straddled me, and with his right hand, freed himself. Bunching the hem of my gown up above my hips, with his knee, he spread my legs open and thrust his hot, swollen cock inside me. I can still remember the sound of my high pitched, frightened scream when my husband, Jonas, took my virginity. His thrusting seemed to go on for a long time until he came, spewing a hot, wet stream of his cum inside me.

After a few minutes, he helped me up and pulled me to the bed, where he climbed on top of me and put his cock inside me again.

Jonas lay slumped on top of me afterward, and when he withdrew, his spent cum, now stained pink flooded out. With his mouth close to my ear, I could feel his moist breath when he mumbled: "it's my right, Katie, you're my wife," before he rolled off me and with one arm possessively draped across my waist fell asleep.

*****

Jonas McQuade

It hadn't happened the way I thought it would.

I had been pissed off and angry for the last couple of days after noticing how friendly she and my foreman Matt had become. She didn't seem to have time for me, but I couldn't tell you how often I would find her and Matt talking and laughing together, even going off horseback riding alone. I don't think anything was going on between them, but the suspicion just kept eating at me, and I couldn't seem to let it go.

I had come in from having spent most of the day out at Morganston's ranch sorting horses, and I was tired, hungry, and unsure about what I would find when I got home.

After washing up outside, I stepped into the house. The house was warm, and the smell of a hot supper filled the room. She was at her new stove, preparing a plate of food for me; I sat down at the table as Katie placed my supper in front of me. Fixing a plate for herself, she settled into a chair at the other end of the small table and began to pick at her plate.

As I ate my supper, I couldn't seem to take my eyes off Katie for very long and kept stealing glances at her when I thought she wouldn't notice.

We ate in silence; she had only a few small bites before getting up and going over to the dish basin. I watched her under half-closed lids as she busied herself. She was small, with large eyes, long dark lashes, and full soft lips. Her hair that hung almost to her elbows was thick, wavy, and a shiny brown; I recalled how, when I stood next to her, her hair smelled of jasmine. She wore a yellow skirt patterned with small green and white flowers that swished from side to side when she moved, and a simple white blouse, the both of which she had brought with her from home.

I sat quietly, watching her as she moved about doing her work. The blouse hugged her breasts, supporting them, lifting the pale white crest of her breasts upward, a soft sheen of perspiration, making them glisten in the warmth of the kitchen.

It had been a long while. I had never been one for prostitutes or whores, and as I watched the girl, I could feel my cock jerk between my legs at the thought of her innocence.

When I finished eating, I leaned back in my chair, lit up a cigar, and smoked it leisurely as Katie finished clearing the table. As the hour grew late, Katie washed up and changed into her nightgown. Throwing a shawl about her shoulders, she pulled the rocking chair up closer to the still hot stove and began brushing her hair. She brushed her hair slowly and braided it into a long, plait, unaware of my lustful stares and throbbing cock. Not long afterward, I looked up and saw she had fallen asleep in the old rocker. I stood and picking her up, carried her to the bed and covered her with a blanket.

"Goodnight, Jonas," she sleepily said as she settled under the cover.

"Night" . . . was all I said as I walked to the smaller bed against the wall rubbing my cock in the darkness, lusting for her.

I must have tossed and turned for what seemed like hours and now lay in the small narrow bed listening to the soft, breathing coming from across the room. "This wasn't right," I told myself. Katie was my wife.

I got up and walked over to her bed and stood there, staring down at her sleeping form. She was beautiful, pale creamy complexion that was now lightly tanned, full pink lips, and thick, brown hair that had come unbraided and lay tousled on the pillow.

I bent over her and slowly unbuttoned her gown at the hollow of her neck. Pulling her top open, I cupped her breasts and began squeezing and pinching her nipples until they were hard and long. Katie moaned softly in her sleep and then slowly opened her eyes; realizing she was not dreaming, she grabbed my hands.

"What are you doing? Stop! What are you doing?" She shouted as she brushed my hands away and struggled to push me off her.

"Stop, Katie! Stop. This is my right . . . my right, you're my wife. You're my wife, God damn it!"

"Take that gown off," I told her, my need and lust, making my voice thick.

"I told you to take your clothes off, Katie."

I pulled her to me and pressing my mouth to hers, kissed her hard, forcing my tongue into her mouth and my hand between her legs. Katie broke away and tried to run, but before she had taken more than a few steps, I grabbed the back of her gown, ripping it from her upper body.

She stopped, frozen in midstride.

After a long pause, with a sigh of resignation, she stood in front of me. I looked down at her, and in an uncharacteristic moment, I wiped away the tears that brimmed in her eyes and had begun to trail down her cheeks.

My cock was so hard and swollen it had begun to hurt. Taking her hand, I pulled Katie down onto the bare floor and fucked her. There were no words of intimacy or reassurance when I took her innocence, just me pushing up inside her, having my way with her. After a few minutes, I withdrew and pulling myself up, knelt between her legs, and looked at her as she lay quietly, staring into the darkness of the room.

Helping her to her feet, I pointed her toward the bed.

"Go and get in the bed, I told her, from now on we'll both sleep in that bed."

Still not speaking, she slipped into the bed as I stripped out of my clothes and got in beside her.

The second time I took her, it was slower, my urgency now tempered. When I did cum, my orgasm was so intense I found myself clenching my teeth and holding my breath as I exploded deep inside her tight, warm pussy.

I collapsed on top of her, my face buried in her hair, inhaling the scent of jasmine. I pulled out of her, and momentarily felt a sense of remorse at having treated her as I had.

"It's my right, Katie. You're my wife; having you when I want you is my right," I whispered against her ear.

*****

At some point during the night, I awoke to find her sleeping fitfully with me spooning behind her, my hand cupping the soft fullness of her breast, my leg draped over her hip, and my semi-hard cock pressed tightly between the lengthwise crevice of her butt cheeks. The feel and smell of her aroused me, and within minutes, I had a much stronger erection, long, thick, and ready to penetrate her. I reached over her hip and began to fondle between her slim white thighs and rub her engorged clit. Her arousal grew, and when I heard her moan in her sleep, I slipped one finger and then another inside her. Katie subconsciously pushed her hips back against me, presenting her pussy to me, and from behind, I positioned the leaking tip of my cockhead against her pussy and slowly inched inside her. Without forcing my entry, I began to stroke until my whole length was inside her moist welcoming pussy. As I stroked, I continued to rub her clit, and when her eyes fluttered open, she started to whimper and her body to tremble; "Jonas? Oh, Jonas," she said in a soft quivering voice, and I knew she had experienced her first orgasm. Before her orgasm had a chance to ebb, I began to thrust deeper, faster and harder bringing her to another orgasm as I ejaculated inside her, enjoying her warm, moist tightness and the way her pussy instinctively milked my cock until I had emptied my load.

Neither of us spoke, but I remember the feel of her fingers intertwining with mine as we drifted off to sleep again, my still pulsing cock buried in her warm, velvety sheath.

*****

Somehow we both had managed to sleep, and as the early morning chill crept into the house, Katie had untangled herself from me and slid out of bed. I opened my eyes to find she had already stoked the fire and seated herself in the old rocking chair with a blanket about her shoulders. Getting out of bed, I walked naked across the room toward her, my cock hanging heavily between my legs and swaying from side to side with each step.

Katie looked up as I approached, and considering how she had clung to me as she orgasmed, rubbing and grinding her body against mine the night before, I was surprised by the anxiety reflected in her eyes. In a shaky voice, she said, "stay away from me! I will clean your cabin, cook your food, help you with your work here on the ranch, but I will never willingly let you touch me again the way you did last night."

I said the words calmly, even as my anger at her defiance grew, "And just how do you think you'll stop me . . . stop your husband from having relations with his wife?" I took another step toward her and stopped when in disbelief, I saw her flinch away from me, obviously thinking I was going to strike her. She involuntarily raised her hand in an attempt to protect herself and screamed when I grabbed her wrist.

"You'll do what I tell you to do," I told her.

I stood for a moment watching her as she began to cry, and I'm not ashamed to say that even with her having voiced her loathing of me, I could feel a renewed desire for her.

Turning abruptly, I grabbed my jeans from the floor, pulled them on, and stepped onto the porch to wash up. After splashing cold water on my face, I inhaled a deep breath that filled my lungs with fresh, clean air.

Did she think I would strike her? Hell, I would never have hit her, but if given half a chance, I definitely would have fucked her again, right there on the kitchen floor.

Taking another deep breath . . . in the chill of the morning air, I admit I felt confused by Katie's reaction and infuriated with myself for caring how she felt.

*****

Katie Alston

The days passed as those before had, and true to his word, Jonas had taken his place in our bed. Each night, he would pull me under him, mount me and begin to stroke and thrust inside me. I felt hurt and humiliated by what he was doing to me, but despite my futile efforts to stop him, my body would eventually succumb. I would begin to cry when to my disgust, my hips would involuntarily start to rise and fall in rhythm with his movements until an orgasm washed over me, leaving me drained and wanting more of him.

When he was finished, I would lie there next to the man who perversely used me to satisfy his baser needs night after night; Jonas groaned in his sleep and pulled me closer to him.

I closed my eyes after a few minutes and finally slept.