Bozeman by Christmas

When Emma noticed the shirt coming undone, she pulled back and watched River with suddenly fearing eyes. She went to speak, but no words came out, though she knew her lines. A fierce, prudish thought invaded her drunk mind: this needs to stop now.

Having undone the last of her buttons, River let her blouse come open, revealing her pink breasts and her hard, pink nipples. They filled Emma with a rippling excitement. She wanted them but wanted also to stop herself from wanting them. River sensed this rending battle in Emma's mind and joined the side she knew to be winning. She placed a hand on the back of Emma's head, and drew it down so that Emma could taste them. It was all she needed to cast off the lines of morality. She kissed the breast in one place, then in another. River moaned in pleasure from the sensation of the tender wet lips. She arched her back and pressed her hands against Emma's head to feel her mouth more. Emma kissed it with her tongue. She drew her tongue across the skin until she reached a harden nipple. It was a perfect, motherly breast, she thought as she sucked on the soft flesh.

She tried to imagine the intensity of the pleasure that River must feel as she grazed the sensitive skin gently with the hardness of her teeth and the sucking with her mouth. She wanted to feel what River felt.

When she was finished with one breast, she moved on to the next, and when she was done with that, she moved downwards, kissing with her mouth towards River's thin midriff. River writhed on the bearskin with every kiss.

When she arrived at the top of the pants, Emma attempted to remove them but fumbled with the belt. River helped her by whipping the belt off with a snap and unbuttoning the top. Emma did the rest, sliding the jeans down River's legs. She felt the sound that the wet jean pants made as they slid down River's legs like a searing electric sizzle between her thighs.

She moved to her own riding skirt. Neither had yet spoke, and both were breathing hard, as if to touch each other's bodies was precious fresh air.

Failing at the buttons of the skirt, Emma simply ripped the buttons loose and the buttons fell with a plucking ripping sound from the top of the skirt. The skirt fell loosely around her hips.

Her undergarment came next. River pulled it down over Emma's hips and the ensemble came crumpling down to her knees to reveal her pale tufted vulva.

River reached out and with her fingers, touched the skin of her inner thigh. The cool touch caused Emma to whimper. As the finger raked upward, Emma tightened her legs together. The fingers arced around the edge of her vulva to the top and down into the pubic hair and then, into the top of the slit to touch her swollen clitoris. Emma gasped and flinched as River gently rubbed. She rubbed it with her thumb and her forefingers plunged gently into her.

She squeezed her arms against her breasts and her hands clutched at her hair, and she bit her bottom lip in overbearing pleasure as River rubbed. She moved her hips with the rhythm and closed her eyes to extract the most pleasure from River's fingers.

She broke the hot silence with a breathless whisper. "I never..."

River responded, also in a whisper. "Yeah. Me neither."

Emma looked down at River. Her coffee-brown eyes flickered with the spitting flames deep with lust. Her lips were wet apples. Her hair turned auburn in the red-orange glow like autumn maple. A woman from the garden put there by the Lord. Emma moved her hips to feel the warmth of her hand against her clitoris, and inside her vagina, deeper, to rub against her inside, rubbing until the desire to taste her and to feel her skin against her skin flooded her like madness.

She fell atop River on the bear rug. Their breasts squeezing against each other, their midriffs and their mons pubis rubbing. Their legs entwined. Hands grasping. Their lips touching. Their faces touching. Saliva glistening on cheeks as they held each other so closely that their bodies were one.

Emma kissed down River's neck, and then her shoulder, causing releases of moans. She then went down. Below the breasts. Below the navel, towards the tufted mound, and opened her mouth to taste the forbidden fruit. River moaned louder and spread her legs to open herself to Emma's incursion. Emma went straight to the clitoris with her tongue. River clawed at the back of her head with desperate hands for more of her tongue and Emma gave her more. She slid her fingers into the vagina and felt the muscles squeeze in pulses around her fingers.

"Oh god!" River cried and her thigh muscles and her abdominals tightened. This encouraged Emma to continue. She plunged deeper with her fingers, and sucked harder on River's sweet, sticky flesh until River erupted and screamed, and pushed hard in a moment of extreme ecstasy, and then relaxed all her muscles at once, sinking into the rug.

When it was done, Emma thought only to stand up to drink water. She was thirsty and the water flask was singularly on her mind. She stumbled trance-like to the flask hanging by a nail on the wall of the cabin. She quenched her thirst then stood unsurely and naked above River while River quivered restlessly on the bearskin from her aftershocks. Spotting the whiskey bottle sitting lonely on the table, she drank from that as well. The whiskey went down her throat in a cool, cleansing burn and she savored the bitter flavor. It paired well with the taste of water, and the taste of River.

"What now," she muttered.

River answered, "you just stand right there," and she got onto her knees and crawled to where Emma stood to place a multitude of quiet kisses on her abdomen.

"Turn around," River whispered.

Emma obeyed.

"Now bend over."

Emma obeyed again, placing her hands on the table.

She felt first the warm breath and River's warm, wet hair against her soft skin, then the wet touch of River's mouth on the fat of her thighs.

Her knees weakened as she felt River's tongue reach in between her thighs and between her labia and she yelped at the sensation. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. No one had ever explained to her the pleasure of another woman's touch. No one had explained raw pleasure. But they warned her for years of carnal sin. She acted sinful now, and it felt like heaven.

She collapsed downward onto the table and grasped onto the whiskey bottle for balance as the earthquakes of passion surged through her. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto the tabletop. She screamed as she felt River's tongue divide her. The rapturous wave came at her unrelenting like the snowstorm against the cabin, squeezing her on all sides, wanting her to burst like a ripe fruit. She wanted River to taste her for all that she was worth squeezing. Her face scrunched with excruciating pleasure.

"Yes!" she screamed like the shrill winter as she felt tongue inside of her. Her grip tightened on the bottle as the rumbling ecstasy came through her to gush outwards. She screamed once more with her quaking eruption and she crumpled down to her knees and onto her back to meet River on the soft bearskin rug.

They held each other in their rapture. Squeezing each other. Running arms against each other.

Never had Emma felt closer to anyone. Not even to Percy. Percy was her love eternal, of course. But this was something more. It was a primal closeness.

River scraped a hand across her naked leg. Emma sighed and watched the calm fire spin. They scrunched into each other. For once, it seemed, Emma's mind was an empty shell. It was a good feeling because often her shell felt filled with busy nervousness. And now it was clean and empty. The storm outside calmed like a dog at the end of the day curling into warmth and sound sleep.

River kissed Emma on the back of her head and hugged her tight. The fire hugged them both.

"What now," Emma asked with a wavering voice.

"Bozeman by Christmas," River responded.

That was not what she wanted to hear, Emma thought at first, but then she thought, with a coldness brought on by the vanishing whiskey spirit within her: that's what she ought to hear. So, she closed her eyes, and put a smile on her face, and pressed her back against River's body. Worried thoughts shot through her mind like hurried, inconspicuous fish for a long while, but eventually, she drifted deep into River's warm security and slept dreamlessly.

~~~

The next morning, Emma woke in River's arms. She was sober and without a hangover. Her head was clear, and her body rested. They were both wrapped in a wool blanket, which River must have pulled over them in the night. It itched her skin, but she was comfortable there feeling River's body tightly against hers, and feeling her breathing, and her heartbeat.

The fireplace glowed with ashen embers, and the smell of pine smoke filled the room. Sunbeams snuck through cracks in the boards that they had nailed to the shattered window.

The sexual adventure of the night came to Emma in vivid pictures. It occurred to her that it should have been calamitous to her life, but with the morning soberness, no emotional outburst came. She found her impartial reaction odd at first but thought that perhaps the emotional outburst did not come because of how apparent it was that the night could be buried. That she could carry on with the rest of her life because River would not be in her life again after today, just as she wasn't in her life before yesterday. She only wondered whether she could bury that part of her soul as well.

But then River would be gone from life forever. The thought hit her like a heavy weight to the chest. She turned to face River to watch her sleep. There was a peace on her face. She watched until River opened her eyes and yawned and smiled at her.

"Good morning," she whispered.

Emma smiled back weakly. "Good morning," she replied.

"Quite a night," River said.

"Mmm."

River sat up and stretched out her arms then stood up slowly. She seemed unshaken. Emma watched from the rug as River moved about the room in the nude. Her firm thighs rippled as she walked. She stoked the fire and placed another log in, then when the fire came alive, she opened the cabin door.

A fresh layer of snow hung half-way up the door. A bright blue morning illuminated the cabin with a pale, smokey light from the doorway.

River breathed in the fresh mountain air. "The storm has passed," she declared.

"Will we be able to make it to Bozeman with all that snow?"

"Sure. It ain't too bad."

Emma secretly hoped that River would say no that they would have to stay longer in the cabin, that they would be together for another night.

River pushed against the top layer of the snow in the doorway with her hand. "It's a dry snow. It'll be easy to travel through, I reckon."

"I see," Emma replied.

"Alright, I'm gonna go check on the animals, and then put some breakfast on. Go ahead and get dressed, and we can be on the trail before midday, and in Bozeman by sundown at the latest."

River and Emma dressed. Breakfast was warmed biscuits drizzled with a thick chestnut honey and dried summer berries softened in melted butter over the fire.

The sun heated up the day. Steam came off the top of the fresh snow and snow fell from the pine boughs as River and Emma fixed their saddles onto the horses. When they were set to leave, Emma turned to River and said, "River, about last night..."

She sighed. There were two competing thoughts that she wanted to articulate. The first, that the night should be buried forever. The second, that she did not want River to disappear from her life. The taste of her still lingered on her tongue, and she wanted to taste more.

River didn't give her a moment's chance to decide her next words. She shuffled over through the deep snow and embraced Emma and kissed her.

Emma turned her face downward. River lifted her chin up with a finger and kissed her again.

"You'll forget all about me when you're with your fiancée and eating your Christmas ham, and drinking your sherry."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you."

"I suppose you're right. You never forget your first time."

Emma laughed. "It's not just that."

River responded, "It'll have to be," and went to her horse.

They left the hut and back to the trail by the railroad, which could not be seen on account of the snow, but they could tell where it was by the clear cut in the dense evergreen. The horses pushed through the light snow easily, as River had said, and they made their way through, pushing through like a fleet of ships down the mountain.

Lonely winter songbirds disturbed the mountain silence to sing echoes from the deep spruce, and every so often the horses would disturb mountain grouse, causing them to fly up from the snow. Emma tried to keep her mind busy with the sounds of nature and the grandeur of the mountain valley, but it was hard not to linger back to thoughts of River.

They came around one last bend and saw Bozeman in the distance, a glittering square of a city in the flat prairie below them.

The sun was low on the horizon when they arrived at the city. The city smell -- the burning coal smell, and the smell of horse and wet hay, and the city sounds, the laughing men, the sounds of bells and hammers and the shoveling of snow from the fronts of shops invaded Emma's senses. Even for Christmas Eve the frontier town was lively and jarring to her.

River called to her, "what hotel was it again?"

"The Imperial, I believe."

River nodded. "That'll be on Central Avenue. We'll be there shortly."

When they were there, they tied the animals to a nearby post, and a hotel porter came out to help with the baggage and word was sent to Percy about her arrival. The hotel had a grand, luxurious look about it, with tall Italian columns and Italian motifs, a copy of the architecture Emma once saw in Venice. Electric lamps adorned with wreaths and red bows lined the entrance.

A man in top hat and a long coat and with graying sideburns, an employee of the hotel, came out to greet them and inform Emma that her fiancée was on his way down and proposed that she head to the lobby to have a hot tea. As she started to follow him in, she spotted River feeding an apple to Annabelle at a horse trough and went to speak to her.

The evening light casted a golden aura and long shadows through the city streets. Emma sighed deeply as she approached River. River turned to her and winked.

Emma stood politely and said, "Miss Langtry. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Well, I owe you money. But I... well... thank you for everything."

Before River could reply, a voice rang out from the lobby. "Emma!"

Emma swung around to find Percy running towards her. "My sweet, sweet Emma!" he shouted.

With a wide grin on his face, he embraced Emma tightly and lifted her off her feet.

Percy kissed her cheeks exuberantly, and said, "I got your telegram. You had us so worried when you didn't show last night. Father had to reassure me you would stay in Livingston until the storm had passed. I had half a mind to go up in the mountain to search for you myself. But here you are. What a pleasant surprise!"

He spotted River from the corner of his eyes and turned his attention to her. "And you must be the one that brought Emma. Thank you very much for bringing her all in one piece."

River nodded and responded, "don't know about all in one piece but I can assure you, nothing's missing."

Percy burst into laughter. It was a gracious laugh. He took out his wallet from the breast of his jacket and thumbed banknotes from it.

"How much do we owe her darling?"

Emma glanced sheepishly at River.

"I've already paid her a hundred dollars."

Percy shook his head. "Well, for your trouble." He counted the money and held it out to River. "Another hundred."

River shook her head. "You really don't..."

Percy pushed the money into her hands and clasped her hands shut with the banknotes in it. "I really must insist. To do this for us. On Christmas, for heaven's sake, when you could be with your own family."

River took the money and said, "thank you. It's really too much but thank you."

Percy smiled at her and held Emma tightly to his side.

"So, Miss Langtry, forgive me for being so nosy, but do you have any plans for Christmas? Do you have family to spend it with in Bozeman?"

River shook her head.

Percy looked to Emma and then back to River and said as if it were obvious, "you must spend it with us here."

River laughed. "Don't think that's a good idea. Nothing personal. I'm just more comfortable in my own company."

"She's a free spirit," Emma said.

Percy smiled and said, "well, I must really apologize again for pushing, but where are you lodging for the night then?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet, but they always got room for me down at the... at the..."

"We'll put you up here."

River frowned.

"I promise we'll stay out of your business."

Emma added, "Please Miss Langtry. It's Christmas. Allow us to be generous. Percy here won't have it any other way."

Percy nodded. "That's right."

River sighed.

"Alright, if you're going to twist my ankle."

Percy clapped once and exuberantly shouted at the hotel receptionist to find a room for River. A room was found.

It was dark when Percy and Emma arrived with River to the foot of her hotel room door, which was at the very end of the red-carpet hallway on the same floor as Percy's family. Percy once again urged her to join them for dinner, and River once again politely refused.

When it was time to say goodbye, Emma clutched River's hand in hers and said, "Miss Langtry, it was an immense pleasure. You have a Merry Christmas, and a safe trip back."

She was careful not to look into River's eyes. River squeezed her hand. She squeezed back then turned to walk with Percy to his room.

That night, they had Christmas dinner in Percy's parents' suite. The room was dressed up in nice Christmas decorations. A twelve-foot fir for a Christmas tree stood by the fireplace blushing with glass Christmas ornaments and candles. The table set out by the hotel's kitchen staff brimmed with rich food - roast beef, roast potatoes with rosemary and butter, browned turkey, and cranberries.

Percy introduced Emma to his parents for the first time at the dinner - George and Mary. George was short and plump like the turkey and wore tiny spectacles that twinkled with the candle glow. Mary was tall, and graceful and wore a satin green tea dress. They were both full of joy and charming people, and this relieved Emma.

The conversation went immediately to Emma's harrowing overnight journey through the mountain pass, and the family was delighted to hear it and made light of it.

"You should have seen her. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear my Emma was being escorted down the mountain by Calamity Jane herself."

George chuckled and spilled a bit of wine on the table skirt. Mary's eyes went wide with excitement and she touched Emma's arm and said, "this place will turn you into a savage if you're not careful," and drank her wine. Her face flushed.

Emma smiled at her and responded, "Oh River is not like that at all. I'll have you know that despite her strange appearance, she's a true gentlelady. And an intellectual by the way. She's a lover of literature."

"And she's a quicker draw than every gambler and fur trapper in the state," Percy added in jest. George chuckled deeply, and Mary giggled. Emma gave Percy a light-hearted slap on the arm with a 'tsk' and laughed along for posterity.

"I will say that she was -- you'll forgive me for saying this Emma - a positively handsome woman," Percy said.

Emma responded with a nod in agreement, "she was certainly something."

Mary turned to Emma and asked, "did you say she was without a husband?"