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This
is a work of fiction based on the characters established and defined in the
movie titled The Quick and the Dead. It
is strictly for entertainment purposes. Please do not copy, publish or alter
this work in any way without the written permission of the author.
Any information stated as fact is the creative license of the author.
The use of God, as a title of deity is used strictly at the discretion of
the author for character enhancement. A
New Life ©2002
by: Songbyrd Green
trees, Cort couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so many green trees,
or if he ever had. It was cooler
here in the mountains of But
they were just her dreams, the next year the fever came and took her to heaven
and their father, well he just left them to fend for themselves. Cort
didn’t know where he went and didn’t care. So, at the tender age of
12, after burying his mother, he packed up his 6 year old little sister and went
to the nearest town. The preacher there took them in and tried to bend Cort to
his bible ways, but Cort was too attracted to guns. He was around them any
time he could. There was something about the power a man had when he was good
with one; a power and respect that Cort wanted. So, eventually they went
their separate ways and Cort ended up with Herrod. Cort was 16. The preacher
moved away and took his baby sister with him and Cort never saw her again. One
day he hoped he would see her again. But what were the chances of that
happening? Well, God had a way about him that Cort still didn’t
understand. Someday maybe God would choose in his own way, in his own
timing, to bless him with family again. He hated being alone. He believed
that God did not design his people to be alone. It’s
funny the way life changes things, now he understood what the preacher had been
telling him all those years ago, he had just been too young and foolish to heed
the truth of those words. The gun only led to damnation and death.
Cort realized the truth of those words as soon as he pulled the trigger on the
priest. Redemption, it was a sort of penance to rid the world of an evil
man like John Herrod. What kind of a man kills his own son? No man that
Cort wanted to be. But it took too much death at his hands
to realize it. But,
in spite of everything that happened, Cort still felt that killing was wrong.
Ellen was right in that some men just deserved to die, but he didn’t want to
be the one to make the decision. However, it seemed no matter where he went
there was always some kind of violent justice to be done and he was constantly
being thrown into someone else’s troubles. He couldn’t just stand by and let
the innocent be hurt. Not when he had the ability to help, such as it was. When
Ellen threw him her Daddy’s star Cort knew he wouldn’t be able to wear it.
The town had begged him to stay but he had been on the wrong side of the law for
too long to wear the star. He would feel like a hypocrite. He felt
God would strike him down for the blasphemy of it. He stayed long enough
to heal from the wounds and they had rewarded him with enough cash to get
himself a decent horse, some clothes and of course, a gun. He smiled as he
remembered the first thing he did, was take a bath. He must have been in the
water for over an hour, scrubbing all the dirt and grime away. He smiled
at all the offers he had to share that tub, but he bathed alone. The only
one he’d wanted had left town. Whores, he didn’t judge them.
They were doing what they thought they were supposed to be doing. But he
wanted no part of them. They weren’t part of the life he wanted. He
knew he had to try to start a new life somewhere. A new life doing what,
he had no idea. He would never be a farmer, but he did know horses and had
a good way with them. Maybe a horse ranch up here in He
had just ridden up to a beautiful stream to water his horse, admiring the beauty
and serenity of the area when he heard it; A woman’s blood curdling
scream. It came from the north, it echoed through the trees like hell
personified, overly so because it rang in contradiction to the beauty of the
place. He galloped towards the direction of the scream when he heard another and
then a gun shot and another scream. He rounded a bend, slowing his horse
and what he saw before him was enough to make his blood boil. Just 20 or
so feet away were two men. One standing over the body of a man, lying
still beside a fire pit, obviously dead, rifling through his pockets. While the
other man had tied a young woman, by her wrists above her head to a tree, her
feet barely touched the ground. Cort saw him backhand her so hard it was a
wonder her neck didn’t snap. He was cutting her clothes off with the
biggest knife Cort had ever seen, one layer at a time, he was almost to
her underclothes, he saw the man stroke himself in front of her. Cort
slowly walked his horse closer and surveyed the situation before him while
remaining in the shadows. He heard the man speak to the young woman.
“Ya
know, I ain’t never fucked me a virgin ‘fore. Maybe I’ll make you
bleed real bad and you’ll swallow my dick in yur tight little virgin pussy.
You might even make me scream. I got a nice big dick for Ya.” He opened
his pants and exposed the hardened prick. He grabbed her by the hair
and forced her to look at him. The man sneered as he continued to stroke himself
and trailed the sharpened blade along her neck and down between her trembling
breasts to pull the fabric towards him, the fabric gave way and her pale
youthful breasts were bared to the world, he pulled with his hands and tore the
rest of the garment from her, uncovering her entire upper body, licking his lips
in satisfaction. She cringed as well as wriggled to try to move from his reach
as she saw the look on the man’s face knowing there was nothing she could do
to stop him from doing exactly what he wanted. He reached out, grabbed her
breast and tugged on it to the point she screamed in pain. He just laughed
at her scream. Cort grimaced. He then took the knife to her skirt and
everything but her pantaloons fell to the ground. They were light cotton
and you could see the darkness of her at the apex through them. The
young woman squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn her head away from the man.
His teeth were rotted and he smelled of sweat and stink, his body and his hair.
Who knew what kind of vermin he had on him. His clothes were caked with his own
fluids from years of wear. It was enough to make any human gag. Cort could
smell him from where he was, about 15 feet away still in the shade of a huge
tree. He could only imagine what it was like up close. He started to jerk his
body with the continual stroking and pumping, then he came and his thick fluid
spurted all over her lower body, “Don’t worry whore, I gots lots more where
that came from,” he leaned to her and took his fluid covered hand and
slid it under the cloth next to her skin, “Nope, I ain’t never fucked
me a lily white virgin ‘fore now.” He snickered as the woman
tried to pull her body away from him as he groped her between her legs. Cort
had seen enough. “I’m afraid you aren’t going to now either.” Cort’s
voice was loud, clear. He slowly came towards them. The man stopped.
“This
ain’t nun of yur business mister.” The man turned just enough to look at
Cort, his hand still between the woman’s legs, violating her with his hand. He
still held the knife in his hand. She was squirming to get away,
unsuccessfully, his spent cock shrinking down but still revealed outside his
clothes. The
man leaning over the body of the dead man had said nothing up to now, he was
just as filthy as the other. He turned as well. They both smirked at
Cort. “Well,
I am making it my business.” Since
there was two of them and only one of Cort they did not see him as a threat, but
when Cort came into the light of the clearing they got a good look at him and
the one over the body swallowed. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the shiny
Colt 45 in Cort’s holster; the sun glinted off of it like a shiny jewel. Only
one kind of man wore a gun like that. The gun and the clothes, white
shirt, dark leather vest and black duster, not to mention the black hat sitting
low over his brow, it was obvious who and what he was, but the eyes,
bright green, the color of the trees. The shear size of the man’s shoulders as
he sat the horse was enough to give a man pause. The horse was a massive black
stallion that was at least 16 or 17 hands. The man shivered. This was not a man
to dally with. But there was after all, two of them and only one of him. Then
the man near the woman made a mistake, he turned his head away from Cort and
faced the woman tied to the tree. He pulled his hand from inside her and wrapped
his sticky fingers around her neck. He began to raise the knife towards her to
finish cutting her clothes from her when he spoke, “I’m gonna fuck me a
virgin and you ain’t gonna git in my way.” He sneered. “I
don’t think so,” then in the blink of an eye Cort drew his Colt, fired and
the man felt the sting of a bullet pass through his hand holding the bowie knife
causing it to fly out and hit the ground. The blood spattered all over the
woman’s breasts and upper body. Her chest heaving from fear, her eyes moving
from one man to the other, not her head, just her eyes. He howled in pain
and ran to his partner over by the body, blood dripping all over the ground.
Cort holstered his gun and dismounted. “Are
you alright miss, considering?” Cort asked his voice soft and compassionate.
She nodded the look of relief evident on her face. He tried not to look at her
below her neck out of respect. He reached down to the ground, his eyes
never leaving the two men, picked up the knife and walked over and cut her free.
He stepped in front of her so the two men could no longer see her. He shrugged
out of his duster and handed it to her. She took up a position directly
behind him for safety, quickly donning the duster to cover her quaking body,
behind Cort’s massive shoulders. He could feel her pressing up behind
him; feel her body trembling in fear. Then he heard a very soft ‘thank you’
brush into his ear. He shivered slightly at the softness of her voice. Colt
had his hands resting on his gun belt casually, his hand an inch away, but his
entire body was still, anything but casual. “Now I am going to give you to the
count of ten to get on your ponies and ride away nice and friendly like.”
His voice was soft, but cold as steel. He started counting, but the two men had
just enough whiskey in them to give a false courage, the one standing over the
body spoke for the first time. “Whatcha
gonna do, shoot us unarmed. That’s murder, even in these parts.” The two
snickered at the thought they had him. “Really?
Unarmed? What do you call that gun tucked into your backside that you think I
can’t see?” Cort’s voice feigned innocence at their remark, “What did
you do to that man lying on the ground there, blow him over with your breath?
I don’t think so. Looks like a bullet hole to me. He doesn’t appear to
be carrying a gun, so I think it would be an even trade, of sorts. Not
that I think your sorry stinking hides are worth this man’s but I don’t like
shooting men dead if I don’t have to. And we won’t even discuss what you
were about to do to this young lady if I hadn’t come along.” He
started his counting again. Cort’s
eyes never left theirs as he studied them, his intense glare was enough to make
any man shiver and these two were no different. They were going to try
something, he knew it. DAMN! He didn’t want to kill them. It was
wrong. But sure as hell if he turned his back on them they would have no
reservations about shooting him in the back. What is it with these kinds of men
that they couldn’t see right from wrong? They moved and in a matter of
seconds, it was over. Colt drew, two shots, dead center. The two men stood
there with a look of shock on their faces. They hardly even moved and it
was like lightening, before they could blink the shots had been fired and
Colt’s gun was back in his holster. Then they both fell over dead. “SHIT!”
Cort snorted, his voice filled with regret at what he’d had to do. “I wish
they hadn’t done that.” He turned around to speak to the young lady just in
time to see her waver, her eyes looked directly at him but they didn’t see,
they were glassy, and then she fell over in a faint. Cort had just a
second to catch her before she hit the ground. ************************* Ruth
opened her eyes to the light of late afternoon and felt the hardness of the
ground on her back. She looked above her and saw the green trees whispering back
and forth to one another in a soft voice, a secret language that only other
trees understood. They swayed gently; the coolness caressed her cheek
gently. It was comforting. Then she remembered, the two men, shot Brian in
cold blood and what that pig would have done to her if that other man hadn’t
come along. Her mind cringed at the idea. Luckily, her virtue was still
intact, such as it was. She
heard something, it sounded like digging. She turned; she ached from the
beating, her face felt bruised and sore. The rest of her just felt violated and
dirty. Not the first time, she would get over it. She focused on the
movement. What she saw made her blink twice. 25 feet away was the man,
shirt and vest hanging on a nearby tree branch, standing in a ditch digging, he
was waist deep in the trench. His massive chest was heaving at the
exertion, glistening with sweat, the large full biceps straining with each
thrust of the shovel into the soft ground. She looked around and saw two graves
already done; a cross on each of them. His hat was off and she saw his
hair was long past his ears, a reddish brown. She also noticed scars on
his wrists. The hair on his abdomen narrowed to his waist and into the band of
his trousers. She flushed as she thought of what was beyond her vision. He
was a beautiful man. Ruth had never seen a man the likes of this one; a handsome
stranger who had saved her life. She
looked around and noticed she was lying on his coat and that she had a light
covering of a petticoat from the mess the two men had made of the packed goods
from the wagon. He was a gentleman. She knew that the moment he refused to
look at her nakedness, he had purposely looked at her face when he spoke to her.
That was very unusual out here, especially with a man in his line of work. She
must have groaned because he looked up to see her awake. “You’re
awake. It’s about damn time. I thought you might have lost your
mind from the shock of what happened.” He jumped out of the ditch and
walked towards her. He grabbed his shirt from the tree branch and slipped
it on over his sweat soaked chest. “My name is Cort Montgomery.” “Ruth
Wells, and that young man there is my brother Brian. We were on our way
home from “What
in the hell were you two kids doing traveling alone out here with no protection?
Christ, it’s a wonder you got this far!” Cort’s voice revealed his
aggravation. If it weren’t for their foolishness he wouldn’t have had
to kill anybody. They didn’t have the sense God gave a goose. “It
isn’t our fault!” her voice was indignant that he would make this her fault,
when it was those disgusting men who. “Then
who’s is it? If you’d taken the train or a coach your brother would
probably still be breathing and I wouldn’t have had to kill anybody.” “Oh
you poor thing, why did you help us at all then, if it was such an all fired
inconvenience. You seem so adept at killing; from the ease of your skill
I’m sure this wasn’t the first time,” she said snidely, “what difference
do two more make.” Colt raised his eyebrows and squatted down to look her in
the eyes, his pants tightening over his thighs to reveal how thick and strong
they were, his wrists resting on his knees as he glared at her. She had
her hands clinched into the covering he had placed over her. He noticed her eyes
were blue, dark blue; they were sparkling in their anger. Very lovely.
His reflected the green of the trees and his look was so intense she backed away
by pure instinct. Even in a squat position, Cort was intimidating just by
the size of his presence. “Just
because I’m good at it, doesn’t mean I enjoy it. Those men were rotten
to the core, there’s no denying that. But I dislike being the one to
decide their fate. I helped you because I couldn’t sit back and let them
rape you.” He was just pissed off enough to use the rough language to
let the truth of what almost happened to her sink in. When he saw the
tears, he regretted his words. Cort had always hated it when a woman
cried. His mother cried often because of something his father did and he hated
it. He swore he would never be like that. Disgusted with himself, he
rose, stripped off his shirt and went back to his digging. There
were three graves all side by side. Cort bowed his head and said a prayer
over all of them. No matter who men were, a prayer would be said. Ruth had
washed, dressed and was there to say a prayer over her brother. He did not
blame her for spitting on the grave of the other two, considering. It
was evening and there was no use in trying to travel. It would be a slow
trip now. They would spend the night and leave in the morning. He
couldn’t just leave this woman out here to fend for herself. She would
never survive. He would put her on a stage for He
looked over at her as she continued to fold and put the things away that the men
had torn apart. He surmised her to be about 18 or 19, if that. She
was beautiful, no getting around that. Dark wavy hair, long down her back,
those blue eyes and he remembered the soft satin body and those beautiful
breasts. They were fuller than most women her age. Young breasts
with sweet rose bud tips just made for a man’s lips. Cort shook his head and
shifted to try to ease the tightening below his belt. These thoughts would get
him nowhere, except in trouble. “Do
you have any food in that wagon or just petticoats?” His voice harsher than it
should have been. Cort inwardly cringed at his own mulish behavior, when did he
get to be such a heel? She really didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Her
head snapped up at the insult. “I had planned on fixing us something to eat.
I just wanted to get some order to this mess first. Do you think you can wait or
are you going to faint dead away from hunger?” Her voice was just as
insulting. Cort
was fixing a fire and ignored her barb. Christ, the young, they think they
know everything. He remembered back, he certainly did when he was that
age, and look at all the pain he’d caused then and since. He was younger than
her when he killed his first man. Ruth
was a good cook; she had made a good meal without much fuss and cleaned up
without saying a word to him. She had asked once for him to fetch water
but that was the only request she made of him. She was quiet as he leaned
against a log by the fire chewing on a blade of grass. There was a gentle breeze
and it was a nice evening, in spite of everything that had happened that day. He
felt the need to apologize, “I’m sorry I was so hard on you earlier.” His
voice was soft. She
was sitting by the fire wrapped in a blanket. It really wasn’t cold
enough to warrant a blanket. She probably needed it for security.
Considering what she had been through it was totally understandable. “It’s
alright, you were right. We should’ve never tried this on our own.
It was Brian’s idea that we could get home faster if we didn’t wait for a
coach. I tried to talk him out of it. But I couldn’t let him come
alone either. He was always impulsive, acting without thinking. Uncle Zeke
will be heart broken. He has always loved Brian like a son.” She
didn’t mention any parents. They sat in silence when Ruth spoke again. “I’m
sorry for prying, but how did you get those scars on your wrists.” She waited
for the rude retort but it didn’t come. His look softened, she could
tell he was thinking, pondering what to say. He moved his hands to look at the
scars. Remembering like it was yesterday and not over a year. “I
wasn’t in jail if that’s what you were looking for. I was bound and
shackled for a number of days and they were too tight. The skin was rubbed
raw and it healed over with scars. They don’t hurt anymore.” His answer was
concise and succinct, answering the question but giving no more information than
was necessary. It made him think of other things. He
was in another place, Redemption and Ellen. She was such a wounded spirit.
He would’ve liked to spend more time with her, but she was hard hearted and
didn’t want to be close to anyone. She had shared her passion with him, her
body and he had thought there was more there, but she thought human closeness
was a sign of weakness. But, Cort saw it not as weakness but as strength.
People were stronger when they had others around them who cared. He thought it
was the way people were designed to be. But most were afraid, as was he.
He wanted to find something to make him feel whole again. The mission had
done it for him, for a short time. But that was gone and he didn’t want
to go back, he wanted to move forward. There was something else out there
for him. He could feel it, but he didn’t know what. God had taught
him patience. He would wait. When he found it, he would know. He
stretched out on his back, crossing his legs at the ankle and using his saddle
as a pillow. He lowered his hat over his eyes and dismissed her. “Better
try and get some sleep, we travel in the morning, early.” ************************** When
Cort awoke at daybreak he felt something warm against his back. He looked
over his shoulder to see Ruth snuggled up against him fast asleep. She had
a blanket over her and she was still fully dressed. He pulled away slowly
and went to the stream to get some water for coffee. When he returned she
was up, the blankets were packed and she was fixing a quick breakfast for them.
She looked up. “Are
we going to leave the wagon behind and just ride horses?” Her question was
honest without a whine or snicker. “I
see no need to leave it behind. We can hitch the horses up, She
turned and looked directly at him. Her eyes were bright and clear.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I know you didn’t have to and
I would certainly have died at the hands of those animals if you hadn’t come
along.” She turned away towards the wagon and then turned back, “I
know this is an inconvenience for you to do this for me and I have no way to
thank you other than I will cook your meals and try not to get in your way.”
Then she turned and went back to the wagon where she started loading things into
the back, packing in such a way to evenly distribute the weight to make the load
balance. There was something kind of bland about her voice. No expression.
Kind of odd. Cort
wasn’t sure what to make of her. She seemed young in her look and her
dress. But her words conveyed a maturity that most people his age didn’t
possess. And he was 32. She moved at a steady pace and never once
asked him to help her. Cort decided it was time to stop acting like a
self-righteous heel and help her. He walked over just as she was trying to
lift the cook box. “Here
let me do that.” He reached down, bent with his legs and lifted, it was
heavy. But it took just a little effort to place it in the back of the
wagon. Within moments they were ready to leave. Cort knew they
needed to travel It
was slow moving and a very quiet ride. Ruth sat next to him for part of
the way and then asked if she could drive the wagon, she assured him she could
do it and he would ride. Cort felt that she was uncomfortable having him
sit so close, he had to admit some distance between them was a good idea.
He obliged her and found she was perfectly capable of guiding the team. He
soon realized she was perfectly capable of many things. She was no
shrinking violet. It
was midday and they had been traveling for almost 5 hours when he suggested they
stop, water and rest the horses. They pulled to the side of the road and
Ruth fixed a quick meal and they rested for an hour or so, then they were on the
road again. She had not said a word the entire way. He never met a
woman who didn’t like to talk. She was unusual. Not that he
minded. It made for a more peaceful trip. Still, it made him wonder about
her. It
was close to nighttime and he suggested they look for a place to stay the night.
She nodded and they found a nice secluded spot in a grove of trees not far from
a creek that pooled into a small waterbed. He made a fire while she
prepared a meal. It was complete and had started to get dark when Cort
spoke for the first time in over an hour. “You
can make your bed under the wagon; it’ll be the best place for you.
I’ll stay up for awhile.” She did as he suggested without question.
Soon she was fast asleep; Cort studied her in the moonlight. She was more than
lovely, she was beautiful. Her face was perfectly shaped. The eyes,
closed in sleep, her dark eyelashes rested lightly against the softness of her
pale skin. Her long thick hair was pulled back in a large braid, practical
in sleep. His mother had always done that with her own hair and his
sister’s. She told him it was better because then the hair was easy to
comb in the morning. It was funny that he would remember that now. He
leaned down and made his bed next to the wheel. Close enough to protect
her if need be, far enough away to not touch her. He would be hard pressed
to stop at just one touch and that just wouldn’t do. Cort
felt it, warmth against his back. Human warmth, he loved the feel of it.
He hadn’t felt it in such a long time. An arm had snaked around his
waist and was pulling on him from the back, Ruth. His body reacted; he was
hard in a matter of moments from her touch. She was up next to his backside, all
woman. She felt so good; he could feel her softness against him. He
had a light blanket over him and she had crawled underneath it. Her hand
was resting against the flat of his abdomen, he could feel her touch burn him
through his shirt. He shifted to try to get her to move without touching
her, she just clung tighter. He started to feel sweat break out on his forehead
from the depth of his self control on his body. He started to recite a
bible verse to get control of his aching body. “The
Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He
maketh me to lie down in green pastures.” Green
pastures, lying down, why was it he could read something physical in everything
when he was around this woman. He knew he had no choice but to pull away.
He stretched and carefully removed her hand from his body. He looked up and saw
the moon full overhead. He decided a bath in the creek would do him some
good. He grabbed soap and a cloth towel, walked over, stripped his clothes and
was in the cold water. He was a little uneasy at first because he didn’t bring
his gun. It was probably 3am, even nere’ do wells were asleep this time
of night. “Brrrr!”
But it felt good. He swam more than he washed, loving the feel of the
water against his skin. . “Ahhhhhhh.” The cold water refreshed him and he
felt his body settle down. He loved the water. He leaned back in the water and
looked over head at the stars. He thought of Ruth’s eyes and how much like the
stars they were and he felt his body start up again. He reached down and
stroked himself, even the cold water didn’t stop him from groaning at the
pleasure of thinking of her along with self-gratification. He pumped a
little harder and then he was thrusting his hips with each stroke of his hand on
his swollen member. This was what he really needed, a much desired
physical release. He was feeling close when he arched his back, moaned and let
go. His fluid squirted right into the water. He was so focused on
what he was doing that he didn’t notice the pair of dark blue eyes watching
his every move from behind a tree. Ruth
was sure he was the nicest man she had ever met, and definitely the handsomest.
Just looking at his body made her tingle in places she had never tingled before,
she saw his back, the muscles playing in his shoulders as he was intent on
something in the water she couldn’t see. She watched him play in the water,
his body was like it had been carved or painted. It rippled and stretched;
when he stood up she could see the roundness of his bottom. Every part of
him was muscled and flexed when he moved. He threw his head back and ran
his hands through his hair. She wondered what that hair would feel like to her
hands. His eyes were so green, like the trees, but sometimes she would look at
him and they would be blue. He was kind and gentle; his voice was soft and
reassuring to her. He jumped around in the water like a little boy, free
and without a care. She envied him that freedom. She
owed him so much she could never repay him. She felt horribly guilty over
what Brian’s foolishness had cost. She would take the entire trip trying
to make it up to him. It was obvious what Cort was, or used to be. She had
never in all of her life seen anyone draw a gun as fast as he did. The gun
was like an extension of his arm. But he had so many convictions about killing.
She wondered where the change had come. She knew there was something by the
faraway look in his eyes when she asked him about his scars. He didn’t snipe
at her but he didn’t really answer the question either. He was shackled,
but that was the sum total of it. He
had saved her life, she knew that. No one had ever done that before,
except her daddy. Her Daddy, Richard Jordan, she missed him so much. She
had thought her life wasn’t worth a penny when he arrived and rescued her from
her it, caused and manipulated at the hands of her drunken whore mother, Lillie
Mae Foster. She leaned against the tree as she watched Cort and let
her mind travel back to her childhood, such as it was. Ruth
was born in the back of a filthy brothel on the outskirts of She
spent most of her time in the kitchen with an old Negro woman by the name of
Lizzie. It was there she learned to read and write at Lizzie’s hand, she was
nice and taught Ruth how to cook and stay out of the way of the men who visited
the house. She taught Ruth that no matter how bad things were, her body was the
only thing that truly belonged to her and that the only man entitled to its
blessings was a husband. Ruth spent very little time with her mother who
clearly didn’t want her around. It was all the education she had as a
child. Ruth had always been a beautiful child and all the women had commented on
her looks and what a money maker she would be when she was a little older, much
to her mother’s dismay. Then
when Ruth was 14, her mother lost her in a poker game to an old gambler by the
name of Harry Wells. He wanted a wife to take care of him, and her mother
was more than happy to oblige. “Didn’t know what I was going to do with her
anyway. She was getting too pretty to have around. Soon, she would steal
all my business, can’t have that.” She revealed with a snicker, then
shooed her away like she was a fly. The women dismissed her as if she was
nothing. With fear and trembling Ruth said goodbye to Lizzie, who protested long
and hard, but to no avail, and the only life she had ever known to live with her
husband who was at least 50 years old. She loathed him. She never saw her
mother again. Ruth wanted to die. Ruth
spent 2 years waiting on Harry Wells, hand and foot. Cooking and cleaning the
little group of rooms that he rented in the back of the hotel; Letting him use
her body when he wanted, this filled her with a sense of loathing; His clammy
sweaty bony body moving up and down inside her and all of his grunting and
panting. She hated it and him. She was tired and used up at the age
of 16. She hated her life and had even considered ending it when she had
received word that he had been killed in a saloon brawl when he was accused of
cheating at cards. Ruth
felt no grief, she just felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of her
shoulders. She moved in with Mrs. Crabtree, the owner of the local
boarding house. She helped in the kitchen and cleaned the rooms. Mrs.
Crabtree told her that her life wasn’t over and that someday something would
turn around for her. She continued her education on her own by reading
constantly of all the books belonging to Mrs. Crabtree who assured her she could
stay with her as long as she wanted. It wasn’t a great life. But
she found a quiet solace living in the boarding house, life was clean and good.
A far cry from anything she had known before. Then
one night a man came into the house, she could tell he was a cowboy by his
clothes and the dirt on him. He was tall, handsome and polite. He asked for her
by name. Mrs. Crabtree said that Ruth was a good girl and that he could
just take his requests elsewhere. Then the conversation turned in a
direction that shocked everyone, especially Ruth. “Ma’am,
you totally misunderstand, I am not looking for Ruth for that. I believe
she might be my daughter.” Then the three of them sat down and talked.
Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. The man, Richard Jordan, had been
passing through on a cattle drive and had spent a couple of days in the company
of her mother. Not something he was proud of, but he had no idea she had
born him a child until she had written him a few months back and told him
everything. He pulled the letter from his pocket and gave it to Mrs. Crabtree,
who read it with great interest. He had gone back to the house where Lillie Mae
had been to find that she had passed away a month earlier from consumption. Ruth
had been named after his mother, something he had told Lillie Mae. Then he
told her of a birthmark he had on his chest that Lillie Mae had told him that
Ruth herself possessed. It was a strawberry like mark just to the left of
her breast. That
day marked a change in Ruth’s life. She returned with Richard Jordan to
his home in Then
6 months ago, Richard Jordan was thrown from a horse, the likes of which he had
broken a thousand times, the fall snapped his neck like a twig. The father
she had known and loved for the past 9 years was gone in the blink of an eye.
And now Brian, gone as well, life just wasn’t fair. What had she done to
deserve this kind of pain? She closed her eyes as the tears started to
flow and she couldn’t seem to stop them, she wrapped her arms around her knees
as she wept for all she had lost. It was a river coursing down her cheeks
until she slumped in an exhausted slumber next to the tree. That
was how Cort found her; Slumped against the tree. What the hell was
she doing here? He looked at the angle of the tree to the stream
where he had been swimming, A direct view. She probably needed to
know where he was. He had left her alone under the wagon. He chastised himself
for being so selfish. She had probably awoken and been afraid when she
couldn’t find him. Shirtless and wearing only his trousers barely connected he
bent down and lifted her up. She felt good in his arms, in her slumber she
snuggled into his warmth as he carried her over to her bedroll and tucked her
back into the covers. He dressed and then stretched out beside her on the
top of the blanket. She curled up next to him and sighed. Cort set aside
his own feelings and tried to comfort her as best he could. Not something
he had experience at doing, but he was determined to do it just the same. He
rose before her in the morning; he didn’t want her to be embarrassed over
anything so what she didn’t know would protect her. He went to fetch
some water so she could wash and make some coffee. Ruth
was very solemn and quiet the next day. She seemed sad and distant to
Cort, every time he tried to solicit conversation all he would get would be a
one word response or a shrug of her shoulders. What was wrong? They
day wore on and he could see dark clouds forming in the horizon of their
destination; Thunder and Lightening. SHIT!! The wagon would be
no protection against the power of a lightening bolt. Then he saw
it, an old barn, off the road. He leaned over towards her. “Ruth,
we need to find shelter against the storm coming.” He pointed to the
horizon, and then to the barn. Still she said nothing. She just nodded in
agreement and hurried the horses toward the barn. They didn’t see any signs of
life and the barn had seen better days, but the roof was still intact and the
stalls would do well for the horses and there was still room for the wagon. It
would keep them dry. It would be a perfect place to hold up until the
storm passed. They
worked together to get the horses settled in stalls and backed the wagon against
the doors to keep them closed against the wind. It was only an hour or so
before they heard the beginning of the thunder. The horses skittered a bit
but soon they became accustomed to the loud booming noises and they munched on
the hay that Cort found in the loft. He shifted some hay in one empty
stall for Ruth to lie on. When he showed her the private area he had made
for her, she spoke for the first time that day. “Where
will you be?” She asked in a quiet question. “You aren’t going to leave
are you?” Her eyes seemed to challenge, her look fearful. His heart fell
that she would think him capable of such a thing. “Ruth,
I would never leave you out here to fend for yourself. I’ll be in the
next stall.” He pointed to the stall next to hers, an entire wall between
them. He pulled her toward him to sit down on a hay bale, he squatted down
in front of her. “What is wrong? Have I done something to upset
you? I know I was hard on you that first day and I feel bad about that.
I was hoping we’d gotten past it.” His voice was soft and tender in
his regard for her feelings. But his words fell on deaf ears. “I’m
fine. I’m just missing my brother that’s all.” She stood up
and went into her stall to get ready to retire for the evening. She
certainly wasn’t going to tell him what was really bothering her. That
she was close to falling in love with this gentle handsome stranger. Distance
was the best thing, she was growing more and more dependent on him and that
bothered her. She had depended on her father and he left her, her brother
did as well. She needed to learn to take care of herself. But she
was not stupid; she needed Cort to help her through this time. She would
survive this. If she could survive Lillie Mae Foster and Harry Wells, she
could surely survive Cort Montgomery. Cort
was troubled, there was something seriously wrong and he was afraid she was on
the brink of something. He didn’t know anything about the mind, but it
was easy to see that hers was in serious danger. She had been through a horrible
ordeal and probably needed to talk about what happened to her brother and to
her. That pig didn’t rape her but he got pretty damn close. But unless
she agreed to talk there was little he could do. He went to the stall and
settled in for the night to try and sleep. But his thoughts were never far
from the woman lying just a few feet away on the other side of the wall. Ruth
was dreaming, she could see the fog swirling around her in a circle, her father,
her brother, her mother, her husband they were all around her; Circling
her, pulling at her. She reached for her father, but he kept getting
farther away as did her brother, they were just out of her reach. Her
mother kept screaming at her that she was in the way. Her husband just
stood there and yelled at her to fix his food and strip her clothes because he
wanted her again. Then they disappeared in a puff of smoke, Lillie Mae,
Harry, then her father and her brother and then there was Cort in the middle
just standing there smiling at her, and then he was gone too. Then it
would start again, the fog, the circle, the leaving. “NO DON’T LEAVE
ME, DON’T LEAVE ME, DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!!!!!”
Ruth had no idea she was screaming. She was so afraid of being all alone.
Everyone she cared about left her. Cort would leave her.
She wanted him to stay with her for always. But he would leave, they all leave.
She was throwing herself back and forth trying to quell the demons. Cort
awoke to screaming, Ruth! He jumped up and ran to the stall where she was
sleeping and saw her. She was bathed in sweat all over her face, still
asleep in the throes of a nightmare; Her head shaking back and forth in fear and
trembling. He knelt down next to her, her face was beautiful even in
its agony, maybe more so in her vulnerability. He placed his hand on
her shoulders and gently shook her. “Ruth,
wake up.” He spoke as softly as possible to keep from frightening her more.
It had to be from the shock of earlier. Poor Ruth He shook her again, just
a tad harder than before. Then he took his hand and brushed her hair away
from her face, it was sticky from the moisture beading there. Tears were running
rivulets down her face. He stroked her cheek to try to calm her. Her eyes
opened, not lucid and he knew she couldn’t see him. She was still
screaming. “DON’T
LEAVE ME, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME, I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE. DON’T
LEAVE ME!!!” Her voice was completely hysterical. Cort
had no choice but to shake her harder. Still she didn’t awaken.
Then he just laid his body down and drew her trembling body to his, her head to
his bare chest and held her as close as he could in an attempt to calm her. He
didn’t know what else to do. His heart filled with a compassion he
didn’t know he possessed. There was nothing he could do but hold her.
He kept whispering quiet words in her ear to try and reassure her, the trembling
was so strong he wasn’t sure she could survive this much longer when he felt
her body slow in its trembling and she stopped screaming. “Ruth,
it’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is alright, I’m here, and
I’m not going to leave you. I’m right here. It’s okay.
You’re alright. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” Over
and over he spoke the words, his hands stroking her hair and back until her body
calmed, he pulled his head away and saw her eyes were closed and she was asleep.
Her arms clung to his body and she was not relaxed in her sleep, she clung to
him in insecure desperation. Then as her body relaxed Cort too relaxed and
allowed himself to sleep. The storm raged on outside and Cort slept
better than he had in a long time, in the arms of a beautiful woman who needed
him. Warmth,
Ruth was warm. Warmer than she remembered being in a long time, if ever.
It was a different kind of warmth. Human warmth. She opened her eyes
and saw a bare chest with a light furring of hair; A broad chest with
strong arms around her. She could hear a heartbeat thumping in her ears as he
slept. A strong solid beat, just like him. How good it felt.
She never slept like this with Harry. She couldn’t stand to have him
touch her so with him she always slept on the floor. Sometimes
her daddy would hold her when she had bad dreams but it didn’t feel like this.
She felt a tingling in the lower half of her body, the private part of her body.
She wanted to kiss him. Should she, was this what she was supposed to
feel? Lizzie had always told her as did Mrs. Crabtree that what a man and
a woman did together was designed by God and was meant to feel good, for the man
and the woman in the marriage bed. She didn’t know what that meant until
now. She thought about her mother and what she did, if it didn’t feel
good then why did so many men pay to have it? Then
on an impulse she kissed the warm skin before her. She felt a warm
softness there on his skin. She kissed it again; she loved the feel of him
beneath her lips. She rubbed her hand across his chest, examining the
hardness of his muscles. She looked at him from the waist down. He had
only trousers on and she could see the large bulge beneath the surface of the
cloth. She wasn’t afraid of it, only intrigued. Her father had
explained to her about reproduction and about why men were shaped the way they
were and the object of it. Men and women were designed to fit together;
The man inside the woman. Just now when she thought of it, she felt her
body grow warmer. The
arms around her shifted and she looked up to see Cort looking at her with those
beautiful green eyes, soft and tender. She moved a little and he bent his
head towards her. She shifted and moved up to him, their lips met. Ruth
had never felt anything like it before. His lips were soft and they just sort of
melted over her, he tasted like heaven to her. His mouth was warm and tender as
he kissed her. She felt hot and tingly all over. Cort pulled her closer so she
was almost on top of him. He pulled her close and kissed her again. He sighed
and pulled his lips away when he spoke to her in a hushed whisper. “Ruth,
the only reason I’m here is because you had a bad dream and I wanted to calm
you. I don’t want to take advantage of your innocence. You’re very
sweet and I want you very much, but I’m a grown man and you’re just a girl.
This isn’t right for you. I should go back to my own bed.” Ruth
sighed, trying hard not to be hurt by his words. He didn’t really want
her. She was not deserving of love of a man like him. Then she spoke, “I
understand, its okay. It was very kind of you to help me when I was
dreaming.” She pulled away, turned her back to him and wrapped the blanket
around her body to quell the shaking of humiliation. She couldn’t hold
back the tears. “Ruth,
you didn’t really hear me did you?” Cort asked as he lay on his side with
his lips right in her ear. “I said I want you very much. You’re a very
sweet girl and you’ve been through a terrible ordeal and I don’t want to do
something together that you’d regret later.” Still he could feel her
shake, he knew she was crying. “I
said it was okay, you don’t have to say anything to try and make me feel
better. I’m fine.” Her voice stilted. Cort wasn’t convinced.
He grabbed her gently and pulled her around so he could look at her. Her
eyes and eyelashes were filled with unshed tears and her cheeks were wet with
those already shed. SHIT! He hated it when women cried especially
when he caused it. He reached up with his thumb and brushed the wetness from her
cheeks beneath her eyes. She was so beautiful and hurt; all he wanted to
do was to make the hurt go away. “Look,
Ruth, you’re not fine. I’m not an idiot, I can see that my words have
hurt you and I didn’t mean them too. You’re very special and the last
thing I want to do is hurt you. It appears I’ve done exactly that. I’m
sorry.” He leaned over and kissed the wetness from her face and then
brushed a tender kiss on her forehead. His fingers were lightly caressing
her skin as they stroked her hair away from her face. “I
don’t know what to say to you, Cort. I’ve brought you into this place
where I know it’s the last place you want to be. You’re burdened with
me and I can do nothing to help. I’m just this stupid helpless woman who
can’t do anything. If I’d had a lick of sense I would’ve never
allowed Brian to venture out alone. It’s because of me he’s dead. If I
hadn’t insisted on taking the trip to Cort
was surprised by her use of the word whore. Then a thought came to him to
try to understand this amazing woman, strong let vulnerable, alluring and shy at
the same time. “First of all, you’re not a burden and you’re not to
blame for what happened. You were a victim just as your brother was.” He spoke
softly and then asked, “Ruth, will you tell me about your dream?” He asked
softly. “Why
would you want to know about my dream?” she asked timidly. “Because
I want to help you and I think it’s good to talk about the things that trouble
us, so will you tell me about your dream?” His voice was soft against her
cheek. He was so close to her, he was warm with arousal but he was a grown
man and he would use all of the self control he possessed. There was a time for
everything, and this wasn’t the time. She
shook her head in the negative but she stayed close to him. She loved the
feel of him. His body was warm and his touch so tender. She would stay as
close to him as possible as long as he let her. “Okay,
can you answer a question for me?” he asked gently, trying a different angle
to get her to talk to him. She nodded her ascent. “Who is Harry?” “My
husband.” Her voice quiet, so quiet it was almost a whisper.. Cort
couldn’t believe his ears. SHE WAS MARRIED! SHIT! “Your Husband?” He
thought of where he was and his state of undress and hers and felt the
tightening of a noose around his neck, again. “Yes,
my husband, he died 10 years ago in a saloon brawl for cheating at cards.” Her
voice was devoid of any feeling. TEN
YEARS! How are on earth could she have been married ten years ago? “Ruth, how
old were you when you married him? And why did you?” “I
was 14, I married him because my mother lost me to him in a poker game. It was
either marry him or be his mistress. I chose marriage.” Again her voice
was soft and missing any emotion. Cort
was shocked and appalled at the realization that a mother would do that to her
child. But that meant Ruth was 26 years old. The things she must
have endured. But it answered so many questions. Her maturity, her
reticence about being close to him and then not wanting to be alone; It
was a conflict of interests. “And
your brother?” Ruth
started telling him about her life. Cort was so easy to talk to. He
held her close, she felt so warm and safe with him. She started slowly
talking about her birth, where she was brought up and when he displayed no signs
of judgment or distaste she told him the rest. Her loveless marriage, her
time at the boarding house, her daddy, her brother and the ranch in Denver where
she truly felt a part of something for the first time in her life. Then she
spoke openly about her dream and her fears of being alone. She told him
how much she missed her father and wasn’t really sure what she would do
without her father and brother. Cort
listened to her, her body calm and lucid. He held her close and felt the
beating of her heart next to his. He felt so close to her, that she had
given him a precious gift in her honesty and openness. Then when she
finished she looked up into his eyes and saw a comfort there. “Cort?”
She asked. He
looked into the deep blue depths, his heart in serious trouble. “What?” His
voice, so soft and comforting in its timber. She looked down at the hand resting
on her waist and took it in hers as she grazed her fingertip across the scar on
his wrist. “Tell
me about your life, it is surely better than mine?” Her voice soft, hesitant. “Not
really, I was born in the desert of west “You’re
like your mother aren’t you?” “What
makes you say that?” “You
love the water. I could tell that night you were in the creek.” Cort
smiled, “Were you watching me?” He wondered how much she actually saw of him
in the water that night. “Yes,
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your private time. You
just looked so free from worries. I was envious.” She said quietly.
Her heart beating fast at his closeness and the softness of his voice in her
ear, she felt warm and tingling. “I
didn’t know you were there until I found you at the base of the tree,
sleeping. Then I carried you back to bed.” He smiled but she couldn’t
see it because she had her head resting on his chest. Her fingers lightly
scratching the skin there made him shiver with desire. She was probably unaware
of the effect she had on him. “I’ve always loved water, swimming, bathing,
whatever.” He confessed. It was the whatever that was uppermost in his mind
with the proximity of this soft woman. He could easily picture her naked
in a waterfall with the rivulets cascading over her breasts and caressing the
skin between her thighs. Her body would glisten from the bubbles of the
falling water. Her neck thrown back in abandon to the tingling sensation brought
on by the force of the falls. Her words brought him out of his reverie. “I
don’t know how to swim, I’ve always bathed in a tub.” She admitted shyly. “There
is nothing wrong with a big tub of hot soapy water to soak in.” He confessed
again. The image of Ruth in a tub of water, covered in nothing but soapy foam
with her beautiful breasts red and swollen from the heat. He could see the
sheen of perspiration form on her neck and shoulders. Her eyes closed in
the satisfaction of relaxation. He could see her raise her arms above her
head with a cloth and squeeze it to dribble water across her breasts and rub the
nipples until they became hard and distended. Then he pictured himself in the
tub with her, soaping those breasts and massaging them ‘til she groaned in
desire. He shook his head to clear it. He was having a great deal of trouble
controlling his ever increasing arousal and the pictures in his mind didn’t
help at all. “So
what made you become a gunfighter?” her question curious, not condemning. “I
hooked up with a man who felt I was the only one to be as fast and fearless as
he was. I was 16. Herrod and I’d go all over and I had no regrets for
anything that I did at that time. I was a stupid foolish kid.” His voice
couldn’t disguise the self loathing he felt about himself at that time. He
felt her stiffen when he spoke of that part of his life so he stopped,
“Herrod, do you mean John Herrod?” She asked quietly. “Yes,
how do you know him?” “He
came to the house where my…” her words faltered , “…where my mother
worked and I grew up. He was mean and without any feeling at all about
anything.” “What
did he do?” Cort figured he knew, John had no morals or personal beliefs that
Cort ever saw. He also had no respect for women on any level. He felt he was so
superior to every one else that a whore would be no more valuable than dirt.
So there wasn’t anything he could’ve done that would surprise Cort. “He
was dissatisfied with the performance of Jacy, one of the ladies, so he killed
her with his bare hands and shot our bartender when he tried to intervene.
He was evil that man. I remember his laugh and his look of challenge to
anyone who dared stand up to him. No one did. He murdered her and no
one tried to stop him. I was 6 years old. I saw him. I’ll
never forget the look on his face, he scared me. I hid in the closet.”
She shivered at the memory. Cort tightened his embrace to warm her. “I’m
sorry you had to witness his evil. I was too young and foolish to see how
he really was deep down.” Then he went on to explain about shooting the priest
and renouncing all violence for almost 2 years until Herrod’s men burned down
the mission where he was working and shackled him. Then he told her about
Redemption and all that had happened. She took his hand, linked it with
hers and brought the scarred wrist to her lips to kiss it. The kiss was
tender, an attempt to heal. Cort was moved at the gesture that someone who had
experienced so much pain as had Ruth would reach out to render loving care to
him. “So
you killed Herrod.” “I
could have, I would have, but I didn’t. It was not for me to decide his
fate.” Then he told her about Ellen and her revenge. Herrod was dead and
so was that part of his life. Amid
thunder, lightening, rain and the power of nature, they talked softly about
their lives and all of the pitfalls. He held her close and he felt the
beating of her heart next to his. Then they slept in each other’s arms again,
Cort was sure he was falling in love with her. There was so much to her, she was
soft and vulnerable. In the same light she was strong and capable of just about
anything life threw at her. She had so much to offer a man. He
wanted it to be him. But could he provide for her in the way she needed? All he
knew was a gun? Security was so important to her, it was also important to Cort
that he give it to her. But Cort was also sure that God brought her into his
life for a reason. Love was from God, at least he thought so. Ruth
awoke in the early morning to a warm sensation at her neck. It was Cort
kissing the skin there. She moaned at the wonderful feeling, his lips were
warm and soft. She stretched just slightly to open her neck for him to continue.
His hand was rubbing across her abdomen just below her breast. Just softly
stroking, sending little jolts of feelings she couldn’t describe in between
her legs causing her to tingle and throb at the same time. He was on his
side with his body leaning over her body. His leg was draped over her lower
body. It was warm and she could feel heat radiating from his skin to hers
through the light clothing she wore for sleeping. “Ohhhh, Cort that feels
wonderful. Please don’t stop.” Her voice was throaty and honest. “I
don’t want to stop, I want to taste every inch of you.” His hand was
moving lower on her abdomen and down her leg. His lips moved from her neck
and earlobes to under her chin. His voice was a soft rumble in her ear,
“You know in ancient cultures they believe that if you save the life of
someone, that life belongs to you.” Her
hands had been pinned in between their bodies but she was able to bring them
around and hug him to herself. She spoke quietly in his ear as she hugged him.
“Does that mean I belong to you?” Her body tingled at the touch of his
lips on her throat. “Ummmmmmm,” was all she could say in response to the
pressure of his lips. “Absolutely,”
His voice was soft and wet as he continued to kiss her. His lips moved to
her lips, the top and then the bottom, licking them with his tongue; Pursuing
passion and desire. She tasted like honey from the hive, dripping with
sweetness. Ruth
spoke in between his kisses, her voice breathy and unsure, “Mrs. Crabtree told
me that what a man and woman do together is for both,” She started
panting as his hands continued to rub and incite tingling all over her lower
body, but continued, “she said that God designed it for pleasure, is that true
Cort?” She knew he would not lie to her, she trusted him with her life. He
paused at the honesty of her question, it touched him and he answered honestly
because she deserved nothing less. He pulled just an inch away to look
into the deep blue depths of her eyes, so she would know he meant every word. “Absolutely.
It is a man’s distinct privilege to show a woman, his woman, how much he loves
and cares for her by bringing her to as much pleasure as is humanly possible, by
making it good for her, he pleases himself.” Then he kissed her cheek and
placed his lips just next to her mouth, not on it. Just far enough away so
she could still speak, but just barely. “Are
you? I mean will you? Show me, I mean, can you help me know what it should
really be like?” her voice hesitant. “Yes,
Yes and Yes.” His voice oh so soft and husky. Then Cort let his lips
claim hers in a kiss designed to incite desire and arouse. He opened his mouth
over hers and she responded by opening hers. His tongue invaded her mouth
and he heard a groan from way deep down inside her. He was in heaven. He had
dreamt of her this way, willing and soft in his arms. He trailed his hand down
her leg and pulled on her skirt, bringing it up, inch by soft cotton inch, he
needed to feel the smoothness of her bare skin under the skirt. She wore
no pantaloons to bed. Thank God! His hands were burning a path up her
thigh. His hand continued its ascent up her bare leg. Her upper thigh was
quivering in anticipation of their joining. His fingertips were whisper
light on her skin. Getting closer to that center where he knew she was waiting f
or him. Cort
was sure she would be wet. He wanted her to drip for him. As much as he
wanted to be enclosed in the wetness of her he knew he needed to take his time
and be very gentle with her. After all she had been through he needed to
make sure she knew who she was with. “Ruth,”
his voice was raspy and soft with desire. “I don’t want anything as much as
I want to make love to you. But I want you to be sure this is what you
want. I need you to be here with me, right now. Not in the past.
I will not hurt you. Please trust me.” His words soft but spoken with
conviction. He wanted her to want him on her own. He could seduce
her with very little effort but that wasn’t what he wanted. She had to want
this. He was only a breath away from her; he looked at her and smiled as he
waited for her response. Her eyes had darkened to almost black and he saw
the surrender there as she spoke in a hushed murmur for his ears only. “Cort,
I don’t know anything about this but I know I want to. I feel all hot and
tingling inside me. I shake from something I don’t know. I’ve
never felt this way before. I know it’s you making me feel this way and I know
you’ll take care of me and bring me to where I need to be. And yes, I trust
you. ” She circled her hand in his hair and pulled his lips towards hers.
Their
lips came together in a scorching kiss, the likes of which Cort had never
experienced. Was this what it was like to truly have the body and emotions
completely involved together? This was much more than momentary lust. Cort
groaned as his hands reached up to the buttons on the band of her skirt.
They opened with ease. His hand caressed her lower abdomen and he felt her
satiny skin quiver in anticipation of his touch. He reached for the buttons on
her blouse, but she had already reached up and was unbuttoning them. Her
fingers trembled as she slowly opened her bodice to reveal those beautiful
bright globes that Cort had dreamt about. They were unbound because of her sleep
state and Cort just looked at her and then helped her remove it completely,
exposing her pale arms to his gaze. He pulled on the skirt, she raised her hips
and in moments he saw Ruth as God had made her; pale and lovely, an illuminating
glow through the slats from the sliver of moonlight streaming in. His heart beat
fast and he had trouble breathing. His pants tight from his wanting of
her, he was on fire. He spoke, his voice rumbled in tenderness. “Oh
Ruth, you are beautiful. I knew you would be. I have dreamt of you
naked in my arms, for me to arouse and love. I want to take my time,
because you deserve all the love a man can give and I intend to be that man.”
He allowed his hands to again stroke her body; her arms, her legs, her breasts,
her face. Then he lowered his lips to hers and felt her complete surrender; a
meshing of hearts and souls. Scorching him through and through with her
innocent fire. He
took her hand and guided it to the part of him that was all male. He
wanted her to know him, know his body. “Don’t be afraid to touch me.
This is part of me; this shows how much I want you. I can’t hide it, I
don’t want to.” Her hand was soft and delicate as she stroked him
through the softened fabric. She reached for the closure, it opened and she
reached inside to the heated skin of him. “Oh, I’ve longed for you
like this, your hands on me. I’m on fire and you’re the only one to satisfy
the burning in me, right where you are.” She pulled and surrounded his
throbbing cock with her heated embrace. Ruth
was awash with sensations she couldn’t describe, Cort’s hands were so gentle
in their exploration of her. She felt his hardness in her hand, his blood
pulsing on her hand. She pushed on the fabric so she could see all of him
and in moments they were skin to skin. Natural in loving position.
Ruth wasn’t afraid; she knew he would never hurt her. She had never in
her life trusted a man in the way she trusted Cort. She loved him.
She had never loved anyone before, but she knew she loved Cort. There was
no other explanation for it. Her entire body throbbed with need, a need to be
with him, all of him. She
kept her hand on him and he guided her on how to pump and thrust. He was
groaning when he started his assault on her body with his lips. He started
at her neck, all around, one kiss and then his tongue and then his lips again.
Then her throat, more lips, he lowered his body and kissed her breasts,
surrounding the nipples and suckling them until they were hardened and red with
arousal. He groaned and sighed at how sweet they tasted. Cort had never
felt this way about a woman. He wanted to feel everything with her and of
her. His hand brushed the soft furring at the apex of her femininity and
went lower, he found the hot bud, it was engorged and throbbing for him, he
rubbed it and felt her legs open to give him more of her to touch. She was
so wet and trembling with need. He massaged and then penetrated her
softness with his finger; she arched her pelvis at his hand and groaned. His
skin was hot all over, her hand was pumping him, he reached for her hand and
pulled it away so he would be able to wait a little longer, he was so close.
He brought it to his lips and kissed each finger before he spoke in a hushed
whisper. “I
want to be inside you when I come and if you don’t stop that won’t
happen.” Ruth
shivered at his voice in her ear; his lips were on her skin burning it. His
hands were making her jerk towards something. Then he shifted to be above her,
his hand came away and she sighed at the loss of sensation, then she felt his
hardened member near her femininity, she was quivering. She parted her
legs even more to bring him closer to her, bending her knees. He was
there; he placed his hands next to her for balance and then very slowly entered
her. “Ahhhhhhh, Oh Cort. What a feeling?” She whispered in desire.
She closed her eyes in response to the pleasure and arched her neck, her skin
flushed with desire, it was a sexual response so natural Cort could do nothing
but watch the beauty of her in arousal. He felt himself harden inside her.
Her walls instinctively reacted to his enlargement by contracting around him.
Her sheath becoming tighter, causing him to harden more and extend inside her to
the point he could feel all the way up. Her pelvis tightened even more. It
was as if her body was not going to allow him to leave. All the better. Cort
just smiled, “You think this feels good. This is just the beginning.”
His voice softly hoarse and full of promise. He started to move, up and down,
slowly, wanting her to feel every inch of him, wanting to bring her as much
pleasure as he could. He ground himself into her, rubbing against her
sensitive spots, he felt her rise up to meet his every plunge into her wet
sheath, and each time she would intake her breath with an “ahhh?” He
smiled at the look of wonder on her face at each forward surge of his ever
hardening cock. She was totally engrossed in what his body was doing to hers.
He thrust harder and harder, he was close and so was she. He could feel
her body start to convulse faster and thrust upwards to meet him as he pushed
into her. He couldn’t help himself, he lost control and pushed harder and
thrust into her, wanting to bring her over the edge of sexual insanity.
Her hands were gripping his shoulders as she was lost in it all. That was
what he wanted. Her
entire pubis was now convulsing and thrusting to reach that fulfillment. He
ground into her and she screamed amid a rush of tingling and throbbing, bursting
and pulsating. Never in her life had she ever felt anything like this. The heat
of his fluid rushed into her. She convulsed over and over absorbed in her
own pleasure and then looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes. She smiled
softly, the smile growing into a grin as she circled his neck with her hand and
brought him down to her lips for a warm soft fulfilled kiss. They were
one. They slept wrapped in each other, a blending of arms, legs and passion,
with him still sheathed inside her. Cort felt more complete than he had
ever remembered. The storm raged on outside, but inside they were wrapped
in their own pleasured filled cocoon. Cort
felt no qualms about this, he was in love with her and she was his. End of
discussion. He would make her forget all the pain if it took him the rest
of his life. THE END
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