Matchmaker 05: May

Michelle nodded and smiled. "Yep. I saw the tack in the room. Want me to show you?"

Curt smiled and shook his head. "No, if you say you can do it, I believe you. Like I said, I'll be up every couple of days to check on them to make sure they're getting along okay. If you have any questions, you can holler."

"You're welcome anytime, Mr. Beechen, but you don't have to worry about your girls. We'll take good care of them. Would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Thank you..." His gratefulness was a question.

"Michelle."

"Thank you, Michelle, but I got to get back."

"Okay. Thank you again for letting us use your lovely cabin, and the horses."

Curt touched the brim of his hat again and settled into the truck. It rumbled to life, and he made a big loop in the parking area before disappearing up the road.

"We've got horses!" Michelle all but squealed. "I know what I'm doing after lunch!"

"Do you really know about horses?"

She nodded as she gently stroked Penny's nose. Shamrock was obviously jealous and stretched her head to me for some attention. I forced myself to not step back and carefully stroked her head. It was like touching a fur covered board.

"Yeah. I rode a lot growing up. Mom tried out for the 1980 U.S. Olympic Equestrian team."

"Did she make it?"

"No, but even if she had, if you remember, that was the year the U.S. boycotted the Olympics. Even now she's still an excellent rider."

How did she expect me to remember that? It was eight years before I was born and was likely an equal number for Michelle. "I don't know anything about horses."

"Want to learn?"

"Not really."

"Okay. You can stay here and chop wood or something while I go riding."

"On the other hand..."

She snickered. "Come on. Help me feed and water the girls, then we'll have lunch."

I followed her instructions, doing the heavy lifting for her. The animals were so big they made me nervous, but they made no threatening moves and the only thing they seemed to want was be petted. By the time we were done feeding and watering, I was starting to think of them as giant dogs.

I followed her into the house and went to wash up. We'd spent most of yesterday afternoon getting me equipped and buying food. After unloading our supplies, Michelle had started dinner while I changed clothes and chopped a few more pieces of wood. I wanted to be sure there was enough wood for this morning, and I wanted to try out my new work clothes. While the clothes didn't show off my physique like my tailored shirts and pants did, they were a hell of a lot more comfortable to swing a maul in.

Dinner last night had been a simple affair of baked chicken and buttered potatoes, and after dinner, we'd sat in front of the fire talking about inconsequential stuff.

With no television, no telephone, and no internet, there wasn't much to do. I'd tried to seduce her, twice, slowly caressing her breast as we watched the crackling fire, cautiously becoming bolder until she warned me off. It wasn't a hard rejection, and she didn't seem to object to my touch, except I guess she felt it was too soon. I didn't get the whole 'no fucking on the first date' thing many women had, but Michelle wasn't the first woman to warn me off with a soft promise of something later.

I could wait. I'd fucked a hot bitch the night before I left to join Michelle and had gotten a blowjob from her that morning before I paid for her taxi ride home. I didn't know what else she thought we were going to do at night except fuck. I'd give her a day or two to come around before she and I had a frank discussion about what was expected. Despite what Brooklyn said, I didn't pay all this money to be chaste for a month.

Lunch was grilled sandwiches with a thick slice of ham slathered in melted cheese. I'd worked up an appetite at the wood pile and wolfed mine down, washing it down with water to hydrate. When she was finished, she cleaned the kitchen while I went back to the wood pile, put away the maul, and stacked the last few pieces of wood.

I finished before she did and stepped around to the front of the stable. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" I asked Shamrock. I assumed I'd be riding her because she was the bigger of the two animals.

She was sniffing at my hands when Michelle arrived. "Making friends?"

"Maybe. I don't know what she wants."

"This," she said, handing me half of an apple, keeping the other half for herself. I started to bite into it when she started to giggle. "For the horse, dumbass!"

"Oh!" I felt silly, and I didn't like her calling me dumbass, but I guess that was how I appeared to her. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You're right. I shouldn't have made fun of you."

"She won't bite, will she?"

"Not on purpose. Hold it like this," she said, demonstrating by holding her half of the apple, cut side up, in the palm of her hand with her fingers held tightly straight.

I did as she instructed and held my hand up, my heart thudding in my chest. Shamrock's lips caressed my palm, and the apple was gone as she crunched it before she came back, looking for more, nudging at my hands. She was being very gentle, but I could tell she could easily push me around with her nose as she searched for more treats.

I tried to saddle Shamrock, watching what Michelle was doing as she explained it to me, but I became hopelessly confused by the straps and buckles after putting on the blanket and saddle and she had to do it for me.

After she saddled my horse for me, we led them out of the stable and mounted up. Where Michelle rode with an easy, fluid grace, I felt out of control and only seconds from falling off, so I spent a lot of time holding onto the saddle horn for stability. I couldn't tell if the horses knew where to go or if Michelle had some plan, but she led us through the forest until we popped out beside a beautiful clear lake, the water a deep rich blue that reflected the clouds above. She pulled Penny to a stop, Shamrock walking up beside her and stopping on her own.

"Did you know this was here?" I asked.

"No. I was just following a game trail."

"What trail," I asked, looking behind me. I wasn't even sure where we'd stepped out of the woods.

She looked at me and smiled. "You didn't see the trail we were on?"

"No."

She smiled and looked away. "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't enjoy outdoorsy stuff."

"No, I wasn't."

"So what do you think, now that you're out of the city?"

"The scenery is better," I allowed, "but I'll trade that for the conveniences of living in Seattle any day."

She slowly shook her head. "Not me. I need some breathing room."

"Which is why you live on your farm?"

"I guess. My commute's pretty nice. I step off my porch and I'm at work."

"I still don't understand how you went from living in Spokane with lawyer parents to growing tulips in Clear Lake."

She pulled her horse around. "Because that's where the tulips are."

That really wasn't an answer, but it was the same answer she'd given me last night, and now I knew she was ducking the question. "Yeah, but that's a pretty big leap. My dad was a businessman, so I'm a businessman. I'm surprised you didn't become a lawyer, like your brother."

"Standing around arguing about stupid stuff didn't interest me."

"But tulips do?"

"Plants do, yeah."

I decided to drop it. I didn't care why she'd choose grubbing in the dirt over making a lot of money as a lawyer. That was her business. Shamrock followed Penny back to the stable where I had more luck getting the stuff off her than I did getting it on. Once the stuff was put away, I brushed her coat as Michelle instructed. I wasn't as fast as Michelle, and she helped me finish my horse after Penny was fully brushed.

After we finished tending the horses, we returned to the cabin where I added wood to the fire and brought in more wood, filling the stand beside the fireplace, while Michelle puttered around in the kitchen. I felt a pleasant tiredness as I put the last few sticks of wood into the stand, like I did after a strenuous workout.

I'd finished my chores for the day and settled onto the couch, but I quickly became bored just sitting there. I didn't even have Michelle's boob to play with, so I rose and wandered into the kitchen area. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back into my chest.

"Need any help?"

She didn't try to twist away or stop me as she peeled potatoes. "Are you volunteering?"

"Maybe. Depends on what you want me to do," I murmured as I nuzzled her neck.

"Know how to peel a potato?" she asked, turning and handing me a spud and the knife.

I took the knife and slowly began to peel the potato as she turned her attention to other tasks. This wasn't what I had in mind, and as I peeled the frustration and annoyance began to rise within me, but I forced it down. When I'd spoken to Brooklyn, she'd made it perfectly clear this was it. If I rejected or drove off Michelle, she wouldn't attempt to pair me with anyone else. I loved women, and I loved fucking women, but I was getting tired of the one-night stands and meaningless fucking. It felt good while I was doing it, but I was weary of trying to remember some chick's name the next morning and coming home to an empty house.

I liked Michelle. She had spunk and she wasn't afraid of telling me I was full of shit. Randi, the first woman Brooklyn had paired me with, had been sexy as shit, and I'd fucked her good, but she had nothing to offer except her body. Her opinion was whatever I told her it was, and the final straw had been when she wouldn't even dress herself without my approval.

The next woman, Callie, had fire, which I liked, but she was a class 'A' bitch! She seemed to delight in pushing my buttons and pissing me off. Like Randi, she was sexy as hell, but had I fucked her, and I would have, it would have been nothing but a revenge-filled hate fuck. There was nothing there, and we both knew it.

Michelle was just right, the sexiest of the three women, and not as pliable as Randi or bitchy as Callie. She was her own person, something she'd proven when she told me she was staying at the cabin and I was welcome to leave if I wanted to, but at the same time she had enough softness to her that I didn't want to slap the shit out of her. She needed me like a fish needed a bicycle, but she seemed to enjoy my company, and I enjoyed hers.

Peeling a few potatoes was a small price to pay to find out if something would develop between us. "This enough?" I asked, looking at the dozen or so potatoes and the pile of peelings in the sink.

She inspected my work. "Looks good. Now, cube them up into the pot."

We worked together in the kitchen as she put together another hearty stew. It wasn't nouvelle cuisine, but it seemed fitting after a horseback ride and chopping wood.

After dinner, we again settled in front of the fire. The soup had been delicious, because of my excellent peeling and cutting up of potatoes I was sure, and the thick slices of homemade bread had been the perfect side.

"I had a good time today," she whispered, leaning into my side as we watched the fire, my hand slowly caressing the top of her breast.

"So did I."

"Did you really?"

I looked at her. "Yeah. Surprised?"

"A little."

I smiled. "Me too."

She snickered and stared at the fire in silence. "What are we going to do for the rest of the evening?"

I tipped her face up. "I have a suggestion."

"Oh? What's that?"

I didn't say anything, but I showed her as I took her lips with mine.

I opened my eyes, sleep vanishing like smoke in a wind, and the first thing I wanted to do was cry. I hadn't slept well last night, waking up several times to think about what I'd done, and like this morning, each time I felt like crying. I remained silent, staring at nothing as Garret breathed slowly and deeply behind me, his arms wrapped around me, my back against his chest as he held me in a warm and comfortable spoon. He had an erection, his massive cock pressed against my ass, and She scratched at her box.

I had a darkness inside of me, something I kept hidden from the world. I called her She, and she terrified me. I'd tried to rid myself of her, but I might as well have been trying to excise my soul, so I'd learned to control her. I kept her locked in a box, deep inside me, only letting her out when her screams for freedom became intolerable, and only when I was alone in my bed. That was when I could let her play without worrying about anyone getting hurt, subduing her with dark fantasies as I fucked myself with toys.

Last night she'd escaped her prison for the first time, and she'd consumed me. I sniffed, fighting back the tears. When Garret had kissed me, I knew we were going to bed. I hadn't slept well the first night as the couch wasn't nearly as comfortable as the massive bed he was sleeping in. I'd wanted him the first night, desperately wanted him. She whispered in my ear that I should take him to my bed, but I couldn't give myself to him after only knowing him for a few hours. That's what She would do.

Yesterday, She wouldn't stop whispering, and I'd spent more time than I should have watching him through the window as he split wood, his chiseled body calling to me... and the dark bitch that lived inside of me.

The horseback ride had been the perfect ending to the day, quieting She's whispering. As we sat staring at the fire, his hand gently caressing my breast, my mind kept going back to him standing among the pieces of wood at his feet, shirtless and sweating, as he worked. She had started scratching at her box again. Then he'd kissed me, and I was lost.

It had started out wonderfully, our slow easy kissing building me up but not calling She forth. She was a dark, malevolent bitch, excited by rough, hateful fucking, by being dominated and trying to dominate in return. She liked big, aggressive bodybuilder types, and men who took what they wanted, as She did, caring nothing for love or tenderness. And most importantly, She wanted her lovers hung like a porn star. In the past, even when one of my lovers excited her, I'd managed to keep her contained. But not last night. I sniffed again, my guilt for my actions consuming me.

Garret had taken me to bed, and as we slowly undressed each other, kissing and touching, he'd been She's fantasy made real. Big, muscled, and sporting a cock as big as any I'd seen in porn flicks. She began to howl, demanding her release, and I'd struggled to contain her. Garret had started out wonderfully gentle, but as She screamed and struggled for freedom, I began to lose my grip on her, and She started taking me over. As She forced me to become more aggressive, he'd risen to match, which made my hold on her even more tenuous as the circle tightened.

When She'd finally broken free, our fucking had become brutal. She'd luxuriated in it, not caring if She hurt him, and the pain of our erotic violence had excited her even more. I was appalled at my actions, but I couldn't stuff her back in her box while Garret refused to back away.

She'd challenged him, and he'd challenged her in turn. At one point he was on his back, head bent over the edge of the bed with my hands tight on his throat, choking him as She fucked him, and still he'd refused to back away. With a sneering growl, he'd wadded his hands in my hair and roughly pulled my head back as he began fucking her. I'd come so hard that I'd lunged forward with a wail and tumbled off the edge of the bed. He'd followed, and he'd finished her off on the floor.

I began to move, wanting to slink away from him, but he tightened his grip, holding me close. "Where are you going?" he sighed, kissing my shoulder as he caressed my breasts.

She, having found her match, began throwing herself against her box, trying to break free. I flung more chains around her prison and cinched them tight. "I'm going to start breakfast."

"Stay," he whispered. I whimpered, I thought silently, but he moved and rolled me to my back. "What's wrong?" he asked, holding my gaze.

"Nothing," I said, looking away.

He had a scratch on his cheek, two hickeys on his neck, and several painful looking welts on his chest. I suspected he had more welts on his back and ass. During our throes last night, if I'd had any nails, She would have opened him up good. He turned my face back to his.

"It sure looks like something."

I slowly licked my lips. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me," I lied.

"You certainly got wild, alright."

I felt the tears threaten again and turned away, trying to get control of myself. He took my chin and gently turned my head, forcing me to look at him.

His face softened. "Hey... hey... what's the matter?"

"I hurt you."

"The harder fought the battle, the sweeter the victory."

"It's not fucking funny!" I snarled, throwing myself out of bed and stomping to the bathroom, sitting down on the commode to relieve myself.

He appeared a moment later. "What's wrong with you?" he growled. "Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"No!" I could see that stung.

"No? You sure seemed to last night."

"Well, I didn't!"

He stared at me as I rose and flushed, pushing past him. He took my arm. "Michelle, talk to me. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Just leave me alone, okay?" I tried to pull my arm away as he held it in a gentle but unyielding grip.

"Was it something I did?"

"Yes. No. It doesn't matter," I said, jerking my arm free.

He followed me into the bedroom. "It sure as hell matters to me. You were all over me last night, and now this morning you're giving me the brush-off? What the fuck, Michelle?"

"Just leave me alone!" I yelled before gathering my clothes, throwing them on, and pounding down the steps.

I started breakfast, and by the time he appeared, scrubbed and dressed, I'd calmed down. I had enjoyed myself last night, and that was the problem. He walked up to me and gently turned me to face him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"No. There's nothing to talk about."

His face hardened. "I think there is, but if you want to keep it all bottled up inside, that's on you. I'm sorry if I got too rough with you last night, but with the way you were acting, I thought that was what you wanted."

He stomped away to stoke the fire, leaving me alone in the kitchen. "It was," I murmured, too softly for him to hear.

Breakfast and the rest of the morning was chilly despite the warmth from the fireplace. When he went outside to bring in more wood, I took a shower. I was bruised and sore as well, and I had a deep aching tenderness in my womanhood. He'd worked me over good last night, proving how strong he was by throwing me around like I weighed nothing, and muscling She into compliance before fucking her into submission.

I washed, taking note of my bumps, bruises, and aches. He hadn't marked my face, and he'd avoided getting too rough with my really tender areas, like breasts and pussy, but he'd pounded that beautiful cock into me for almost an hour before we were finished, and that was enough to make any girl sore. Not to mention fucking on a hardwood floor. Next time we were going to have to keep it on the bed. I smiled. At least I was thinking about a next time. First thing this morning, the only thing I could think of was running home with my tail between my legs.

Most of my bruising was on my hips, where'd he gripped me as he repeatedly slammed me down on his cock or held my hips tight as he jackhammered me from behind. My scalp was also a little tender from where he'd gripped my hair as I'd choked him, probably the result of me falling off the damned bed while he was pulling my hair.