Summary: A Saloon girl spends a very special night with Adam Cartwright.

Rated R            Wordcount: 6, 055

SEXUALLY EXPLICIT

Velvet Series:

Velvet Captive
Velting the Cowboy

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There he sits at the corner table in the Saloon. Confident, sleek, and frothing over with a hunter’s grace as he leans back in the wooden chair, nonchalantly rocking the chair back until it balances on its two posterior wooden legs. Its balance is perfectly poised under the lean of the man who sits in it.

Clad in black work clothes that molds to his muscular body, from the strength of the taut muscles in his legs and solid chest and his powerful back that were chiseled so appreciatively to the virile male form it was as if an artist were creating his depiction of a Greek god. There was no doubt about which God too: Adonis. Yes, Adam Cartwright was a man of strength. Powerful virile strength. As well as extraordinary sex appeal. And he knew it too. Anyone could see that Adam was aware of his sex appeal by the way he wore his buckskin chaps. For Gods’ sakes they framed his crotch in a heart-shape! There could be no more obvious advertisement of masculine allure and potent sexuality and being aware of it too than that!

Now here Adam Cartwright sits in the Saloon, overtly exuding his own male musk of sunshine and leather and dark sexuality. He was a black panther among mortals prowling the Saloons of Virginia City. And it just happened that the Bucket of Blood was one of his favorite haunts.

Fortunately, I was working that afternoon. I say ‘fortunately’ because I’ve carried a torch for Adam Cartwright since my first day working at the Bucket of Blood Saloon when I saw him walk through those batwing doors.

Now today, here he is again and my body feels like a living torch as I let his larger-than-life presence seep beneath my skin. He must’ve just finished working hard on his family’s ranch since he was still wearing his chaps. And I’ll tell you, I’ve never seen such a perfect male specimen before. He stood in the center of the Saloon by the giant front window, taking in the ambiance as he looked around to see who else was in attendance. But in that split moment when he stood there, a sparkling ray of the brightest sunlight shone through the window and landed on the pleasing bulge of Adam’s manly package. The chaps’ heart-shaped frame around it definitely drew the ladies’ attention. At least it did mine, and oh how I grew dewy hot with the thought of unwrapping it. But as that bright spear of sunshine shone on his generous package, it was as if it was now screaming “Hey, look at me! I’m the Man!” Any second now, I expected the heavens to open up and a host of angels to start singing “Halleluiah!” Then he sat at his usual table and I licked my lips that were suddenly parched for something other than a cold beer.

Long have I wondered what type of woman did Adam Cartwright like. I had heard the town’s rumour mill cranking out stories of Adam being involved with an Amish lady, Regina; a Saloon girl Sue Ellen who was before my time; and even an innocent Jewish girl, Rebecca. I didn’t put much stock in secondhand gossip, but if these stories were true then it would appear that Adam’s type was that he didn’t have any type. Adam preferred to judge people – and women too – on their own merits. He wasn’t afraid of differences…and as they say, opposites attract. Hmmm, maybe I had a chance with him after all.

I have, shall we say, unusual tastes in the bedroom. Bondage has always excited me and nothing arouses me more than having a man tied up as I tease and torment him, making him a slave to my sexual desires…and his own too. My long-time lover, Bleu, from a few years back, made it sound abnormal, like I was some kind of freak or pervert for getting aroused in such a way. Bleu refused to take part and after a heated argument where a lot of hurtful words were fired at each other like bullets, he finally fell quiet and just looked at me as if I was something subhuman. Then he declared I was “possessed by the devil” and walked out the door without looking back. I never saw him again and have been on my own ever since. That’s when I started working at the Bucket of Blood Saloon. I never found a man who would indulge my unusual sexual desires and I wondered if I ever would. Was I destined to be alone and never find a man who was my perfect fit? It certainly felt like it.

Now here was Adam Cartwright…a man like no other. A man of education and intelligence, a man of poetry and music…definitely a rare combination in these rough and tough parts of Nevada. He was also a man who didn’t judge others unfairly, who was open to a wide array of differences. Could Adam be my fit?

Time to find out. I grabbed a bottle of our best bourbon whiskey and two glasses from behind the bar and breezed over to his table.

“Hello Adam. I’m Velvet,” I began as I stood by his table. Adam looked up at the silken sound of my voice, I could see an appreciative gleam sparkle in his hazel eyes as he took in the purple velvet sheath of the dress I was wearing. I knew it clung to my curves in an enticing manner and pushed up my ample breasts to swell like moonlit crests of sea foam above my low-cut neckline. My auburn hair tumbled about my shoulders in soft waves and I’ve been told it was the perfect compliment to my sea-aqua eyes.

“Would you like some company?” Adam just nodded and smiled, revealing those dimples that was a sumptuous dessert all on their own.

“It would be a pleasure,” he answered in his voice so rich that I felt like he just drizzled honey all over my naked flesh.

“Oh honey, the pleasure is just beginning,” I said as I sat down.

Long into the evening, the hours trickled by as Adam and I talked. I discovered that besides being my type – the talk, dark, and incredibly handsome type, I mean – Adam was also a good listener. He listened as I talked.

I told him about my relationship with Bleu; of how much in love we were for the first two years, but then his love turned to hostility and contempt once he learned of my… “sexual deviation.” I couldn’t bring myself to come right out and say to Adam I’m a bit kinky and bondage turns me on, how about you? I just said “sexual deviation.” Adam was intrigued and wanted to know what I meant. I hedged and pussyfooted around the topic, but Adam could see that I needed to talk about it, and so with a little more prodding from him, I did.

I told him how bondage heightens the sexual pleasure, I told him how being teased and tormented arouses me sexually, arouses me to near ecstasy in fact. Adam was beyond intrigued; he was fascinated, maybe even rivetted. He wanted me to tell him more. I looked in his eyes and saw only honest curiosity there. No judgement, no condemnation as I received from Bleu. Just curiosity about my alternate lifestyle he was not familiar with…yet.

‘If you want to know so badly, maybe you should give it a try?” I asked coquettishly with a raised eyebrow. Then I stood up and held out my hand. The choice was his.

Three things happened in rapid succession:

Adam looked at me with what could be called his “bedroom eyes” look.

He licked his lips in a highly sensual manner.

Then he stood up and took my hand.

My heart fluttered beneath my breast before somersaulting in mid-flutter. And so, began a night I will remember for the rest of my life.

~~1~~

My room above the Bucket of Blood Saloon was small and modest; unlike the kiss Adam and I shared as we fumbled our way through the door. Hastily, I kicked it closed with my heel but as the heat rose up between us I wouldn’t have been surprised if the metal of the doorknob and lock melted to form a soldered mass, imprisoning us into the room and in each other’s arms for who knows how long. Adam would certainly receive an education in bondage then! As would I.

Taking control of the situation, I broke away from Adam’s smoldering lips and took a step back, my hand on his chest as I kept him at arm’s length.

“Is this where the fun begins?” He asked, his hazel eyes were like a sultry midsummer sky kindled with curiosity and intrigue about what he was about to experience that night, as well as something else smouldering in their clear depths…desire. Yes, as a Saloon girl I’ve certainly seen my share of men feeling the heat of desire. But somehow as I looked in his eyes, the desire he was feeling just below his civilized surface reminded me of a volcano, long dormant, but ready to erupt with a heated desire so fierce that it would put to shame all of those other patrons, and one so big I had yet to encounter. Judging from the bulge that was steadily growing larger and larger in his pants, I could well believe that Adam was more man than I had ever seen or known. Much, much more man.

You’re my prisoner now, Mr. Cartwright,” I said, head held high, proud and in control. Then with my hand, I loosened the straps on my shoulders. My eyes never broke away from his as the straps slowly fell off and my dress slipped down, purple velvet pooling around my feet.

I stood before Adam, proud in my nakedness. His eyes drizzled heat over my breasts, heavy in their voluptuousness; the smooth narrow plain of my belly his eyes grazed; then to the cleft of my womanhood barely contained behind my black lace thong, his eyes lingered. I heard his breath catch in his throat and I smiled. He was ready. He was my captive.

I step out of the purple velvet puddle around my ankles and start toward him…but stop when he reaches out for me.

“Not yet, big man. You don’t take me until I ask you to,” I purr in my sexiest feline voice. Then I walk around him, intentionally brushing my nipples against his arm. I feel the hair stand up, not just on Adam’s arm but on mine too. Though I don’t let on, the magnetic pull between us is undeniable.

“Trust me,” I whisper hotly into the coiled conch of Adam’s ear as I push him backward into the wooden chair behind him and tie his hands behind his back with a long strip of black velvet that was lying on the table beside the chair. I always keep it within arm’s reach for such occasions. I straddle him, nestling the fiery furnace of my sex against the generous swell that is steadily growing in his pants. Only the thin black strip of my thong contains my fire as well as Adam’s pants containing his, but barely. A tent is steadily raising up. I feel like asking him is that a tent pole in your pants or are you just happy to see me? Oh, how I would love to be your pole dancer!  Not wanting to embarrass him as I know this is his first time – being tied up that is – I get to work and place a gag also of black velvet over his mouth, tying it at the back of his head.

“The anticipation is half the fun and this will just increase it,” my lips are a silken caress against his ear, lightly suckling his earlobe before giving it a teasing nip.

With my hot strawberry tongue I trail a warm, wet, sizzling lava flow down his neck to the V neckline of his shirt that has always aroused me with just that peak of manly curls that covers the wide expansiveness of his chest.

But then, it doesn’t take long for me to get aroused when it comes to Adam Cartwright. Everything, from how his buckskin chaps frames the crotch of his black pants in a heart-shape to the dark stubble that graces his most manly jaw to his well-muscled arms and his elegant hands whose fingers had been honed by plucking the strings of his guitar. Oh, how I wish that I was his guitar and Adam was plucking me…of my petals and strumming the strings of my pent-up desire. How can so much smoldering masculinity live in one male body?  I’m surprised he hasn’t erupted like a volcano from all the heat he gives off…all this in one very virile, scorching hot man, and all at my fingertips…I feel jumpier than a virgin at a rodeo with a crowd of cowboys who hasn’t seen a woman in at least a year! Well, like I was saying. Everything about Adam Cartwright arouses me.

When I come to his V neckline and the nest of curly hairs it exposes, I kiss that most provocative display then I gently suckle the dark curls into my mouth, rolling them around with my tongue, letting them twine about my hot probing tongue and even working a few between my teeth as if I was flossing them with the luxurious curls. I lightly pull them with my teeth before releasing. Adam rewards my attentions with a long drawn-out moan.

“This neckline needs to be lengthened,” I say as I bite off a button on his shirt. When I bite off another button, his shirt falls open to reveal his nipples. What a tantalizing treat, I think to myself as the fiery furnace of my mouth encloses over his right nipple, playfully rolling the sweet bud inside. Then I pay the same homage to its twin. Adam moans under the sweet torments of my mouth and tongue working in concerto together to bring him such exquisite pleasure. His arms writhe against the velvet ties but the knots are holding him tethered. So far.

Slow and steady, I bite off every button…until his shirt is completely undone. My hot tongue flicks into his belly button and Adam squirms even harder against the velvet knots. His low guttural moaning only increases as my tongue probes harder into his navel. I can’t understand the words Adam is trying to say, but I can definitely understand his body language.

His pelvis bucks violently against mine where I straddle him, my legs are stretched wide apart as I do so. My black lace thong is already thoroughly wet from my own arousal, but as Adam’s pelvis bucks and thrashes against mine, he excites the wide spread of my vulva even more and causes my juices to flow like a flood, making the florid inner petals slippery wet as they open like Aphrodite from the womb of the sea, beckoning him with the promise of a treasure that’s waiting for him to lay his claim.

“Oh Adam, I want you so badly,” I coo enticingly as I stroke my flower’s inner pink petals. “I want you inside me Adam. Oh how I want you to take me, Big Bronco-busting Man. Take me, take me Adam, as only you can,” I say in my sweetest turned-on voice of arousal. I feel a fresh gush of sweet cream flow forward from the fountain inside me and pool at the open mouth to my canal of pleasure. A small dollop spurts out, creaming Adam’s pants and fragrancing the air between us with the scent of sex. With a coy look I dip my index finger in the treat pooled at my entrance and with my fragrant juices clinging to my finger I hold it up in front of Adam’s face.

“This is what you do to me, Adam. Only you can turn me on like this,” I say, sweet and sincere as can be.

Adam’s eyes glaze over with unreleased passion as he looks at the juice dripping down my finger, then at the inviting spread of my legs as my hips straddle him, causing my vulva to open before him like a flower revealing her secrets.

His hands are tied behind him – what a merciless tease I am – but his hips are free. Again, he bucks against me like a bucking bronco, his pelvis grinds against my lady garden, exciting my wet heat even more. I feel my breath quicken with Adam’s moans and bestial grunts and I answer his grinding hips with a tantalizing sway of my own hips against his.

I can feel his manhood straining against the wet fabric of his pants. I had told Adam that bondage would just entice him even more with the prolonged anticipation…but it was doing the same for me too. Adam was not the only one whose breathing was coming hot and heavy. Mine was too. I feel like I’m about to climax any moment…I unbutton his pants and am about to slip my hand inside and release him – but I don’t have to. Once I undo the last button, his manhood pounces out like a lion, and if it could roar it would have. There it was, protruding outside and carnivorous for some action. Throbbing proud and lord of his desire. I gasp at the sheer majestic impressiveness of it.

An avid reader of distant places, I dreamed of traveling to such wonderous lands such as Paris and Italy. I had seen pictures of the Eiffel Tower in Paris and read descriptions of its grandeur, but as I looked at the proud pillar of Adam’s manhood standing tall and throbbingly erect so that the veins stood out underneath the glistening florid skin of his engorged instrument, obviously ready and eager to be the conductor of the most wild, roaring riptide I have ever known, there is no way the grandeur of the Eiffel Tower could come near to the grandeur of Adam’s phallic tower. It paled in comparison. The Eiffel Tower was just a dirt-poor peasant under the shadow of Adam’s majestic pillar of his manliness. Even the leaning tower of Pisa was just an insignificant trinket…but Adam’s tower didn’t lean anyway. It stood ramrod straight, the bold thickness of his shaft reminded me of the barrel of a pistol, potent with firing power. Oh, how my love canal yearned for Adam to fire the bullets of his virility into me.

It will be the sweetest treat that my long-neglected lady garden has ever known. I can feel my love canal salivating in eagerness, dampening my nest of chestnut curls that sprouts around its entrance like a desire-scented garden.

“Oh Adam, its so very big, tremendously so,” I praise his male magnificence, glistening wet and rich with unspent virility. At last Adam has managed to wrangle his mouth free of the velvet gag.

“You bet it is, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and husky. “And it’s hungry for …your purring kitty.”

I tingle in the most delicious places at his dirty talk. Then I gasp in surprise as Adam’s arms wrap around me after wrangling themselves free from the velvet ties and shrugging out of his buttonless shirt, leaving the garment abandoned on the floor. Clever man! He holds me tightly in his muscular embrace, his prairie of chest hair tickles my rosebud nipples erect.

“Oh, but my kitty is no domesticated feline, but a lioness in need of taming…is your lion powerful enough?” I ask provocatively as I stare into Adam’s eyes alight with a primal fire, an inviting smile curves my wet lips. My hand lightly caresses the swollen length of his proud manhood, then I increase the pressure as with a sharp fingernail I trace along the ridges. I am rewarded with a deep guttural moan from Adam as he suddenly grabs my hand from his prominent penis.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Adam hisses, a hot fierceness in his usually in control voice. Had I finally shaken apart his presumed civilized restraint? A thrill surges through my blood at this provocative possibility.

“I’ve broken the wildest broncos and ridden the fiercest horses, I think I’m up for the task of taming your…lioness. Don’t you think so?” Adam says as he gives a thrust against my vulva, intentionally brushing his hardened shaft against my clitoris, causing it to sparkle under the teasing contact.

   Didn’t I think he was up for the task, he had asked. What excitingly true innuendo! Yes! Adam was definitely ‘up’ for it, I think to myself as I moan and lean forward, hungry for more contact.

   At last I am the one captured as his lips seize mine in a dance so sizzling hot that it would leave scorch marks on the floor if it was our feet that was dancing and not the hot persuasion of lips parted and inviting inside the other’s probing tongue. But I am the most willing prisoner there ever was and eagerly I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders as Adam inserts his finger between the frail fabric of my thoroughly wet thong and my pulsing hot vulva, then with the faintest tug of his finger he rips away the useless barrier.

“There, now that’s better. Much better,” Adam says as he places his index finger over my clitoris, that pearl of pleasure that’s been begging – no, screaming – for his attention.

“Oh yesss Adam, Oh yesss,” I breathe heavily under the exquisite sensation as my pleasure bud tingles and then hums and soon Adam works my little red bud until it’s buzzing with a delirious frenzy, making it happier than the happiest honeybee buzzing around a honeypot.

I throw back my head and arch my torso forward, my heavy breasts jiggling to and fro in a dance as I ride the little crests of pleasure that Adam ignites in me as his finger flickers over my clitoral wick.

I feel myself teetering on the threshold of becoming a supernova…then Adam stops, withdraws his finger a bit until it’s just hovering, poised, over my ruby red pearl of pleasure.

“No! Oh, please Adam, don’t stop,” I cry out in protest. Adam just smiles indulgently at me and chuckles.

“Are you asking now?” His eyes are full of mischief and the confident knowing that he was the one in control now.

“No! I’m begging…please,” The irony was not lost on me. I had told Adam not to take me until I asked for it. But now I was way passed asking…I was begging to be taken, pleading for my pleasure.

When our night together began, he was the thrall to my kinky amorous appetite. Now, our roles were reversed; I am the thrall and Adam the master. No happier thrall there ever was than I as I surrender to the pleasurable mastery of Adam’s sexual prowess. I can tell by his indulgent smile that he knows it too and is thoroughly enjoying the power reversal. As am I.

My blooming plump labia lips that were once starved for affection, were starved no more as they smiled wide an invitation that Adam was very pleased to accept. And girlfriends, when people talk about how fast on the draw he is with his gun and that Adam has the fastest gun in the West, they are most definitely only talking about the pistol he carries in his slung low-on-his-hip holster, NOT the pistol he carries in his pants! There is nothing fast and hurried about Adam behind the bedroom door. Maybe someday a country western singer will sing a song about “a lover with a slow hand”, and when he does, that song will most definitely be about Adam Cartwright!

But where was I? Oh yes…Adam may be a lover with a slow hand, but he was not about to leave a lady lingering in wanton unrest.

Then with one fluid motion, Adam lifts up my hips and sets me on top of his huge throbbing phallus, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel like a crown on the head of a king. He smiles a very manly smile while he watches me gasp and sigh in exhilarated delight as the head of his pure potent immensity nudges apart my inner pink petals from their usual seductive pouting posture. The gates are now open to him, but he doesn’t rush to enter. Instead he waits with the silken head of his love muscle teasing open the mouth to my love canal. Why is he holding back? Oh, please take me Adam, I silently plead, I’m gushing a wet warm welcome to you, only you, like rose petals scattered before the entry of royalty so has the desirous nectar of my lady garden prepared herself to welcome you within and feed you the most succulent ambrosia our night of pleasure has to offer. I try to spear myself on his strong ramrod stem, but he holds me back.

“Now you’re my prisoner, Velvet,” Adam says as the swollen head of his desire-engorged love muscle nudges open my entryway a little more, then it slips inside an inch or two, and I blissfully sigh at the sheer wonder of how just the head of his immense shaft fills the foyer to my love canal, teasing and stroking my fleshy folds and causing the tremors of pleasure to come before the volcano erupts.

“I’m a happy prisoner to your pleasure,” I cry out as a wave of ecstasy overwhelms me.

“Oh, please Adam come inside, please take me now. Please Adam, take me now before I die,” I cry out again, my voice getting higher in my desperate need to be ravished, utterly and completely, beyond thought, beyond reason, beyond any other sensation but that of Adam taking me where there is no return. I am not willing to be silent any longer. My stoked-up fire of arousal makes me bold and I am not at all embarrassed over my pleading. How is a lady – or anyone for that matter – supposed to get what she needs, wants, or just plain desires, if she doesn’t speak up for herself?

“I’m always ready and willing to oblige a lady,” Adam’s normally rich voice is roughened in his own desire for satiation.

Neither of us are willing to hold back the tide any longer, so with Adam’s hands guiding my hips I slowly lower myself down onto his immense manhood, down…and down some more I have to go for Adam possessed the biggest and thickest and by far the most potent phallus I had ever encountered, until with one final plunge I sank down. At last, the pulsating essence of his very virile manliness was completely inside me. At last, I was impaled. Deliciously impaled. Adam had sheathed my velvet darkness with his spear of light. He filled my stillness completely with his motion.

As Adam started to move inside my velvet sheath with smooth fluid strokes that soon graduated to strong and extremely pleasurable thrusts, I flexed my muscles around his rigid penis with each thrust, wanting to give him as much pleasure as he was giving me.

“No wonder your name is Velvet,” Adam grunted his surprise and appreciation at my generous fortitude as I again spasmed my lover’s muscles around his very talented penis, holding him captive for a moment within my velvet depths before releasing. With each thrust he hit all my sweet spots, stroking me to the heights of ecstasy I had never known existed before.

Then, holding me securely against the ever seductive expanse of his virile-wrought chest, Adam stands up with me still stretched wide and tightly impaled on his magnificent phallic powerhouse, my legs entwine around his waist, holding him to me as my love muscles still constricted around his extremely talented tool, my pelvis still moving in perfect rhythm to his smooth and strong strokes, ravishing my depths, plucking me as if I were a rose and he my attentive gardener…there was no doubt about it. I was the thrall to his instrument of pleasure.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Adam whispered hotly in my ear.

“I certainly hope not,” I breathed just as hotly, my rosebud nipples fully aroused awake by the sweet tender treat of his chest’s lush abundance of hair rubbing against them until I felt like I could orgasm from that sweet friction alone.

But before I had the chance to, Adam sloughed out of his pants with a few minute motions I was barely aware of (the only motion I was aware of was the explosive feeling of him moving deep inside me), and when he laid me on the bed, his body covering mine, we never broke contact. My arms encircled his shoulders, caressing his taut muscles rippling beneath sun-kissed flesh while my legs were clinging vines about his waist, drawing him even deeper into me if that was possible.

My flower was thoroughly drenched under the rain of my rapture that Adam caused and only he could quench. So wet was I that I could hear the squelch of juices as he thrusted into me, his strength piercing my sweet, deep and even deeper until I felt like he was going to split me in two like firewood. But I was already on fire as well as being a Gemini…so I was already there. Adam was the match to my wick and I was the spark to Adam’s passionate eruption. He was giving me so much pleasure, I hoped I was doing the same for him. I gave voice to these thoughts.

“Oh Velvet, you give as much as you get. You’re giving me more than enough pleasure to handle. But I won’t allow myself to climax until you do,” Adam said huskily as he stared into my eyes. What? A man who actually cares about my pleasure? I felt like climaxing at his words, but all I did was smile and held him close to me, my hand straying downward to gently cup the twin jeweled orbs behind his powerhouse penis, lovingly stroking them, gently fondling them.

Wanting to give this rare jewel of a man the ultimate pleasure, I spasmed my love muscles around his powerful totem with each thrust driving deep into my warm welcoming depths by his bronco-riding hips. With each thrust I held him captive, his virility embedded in my feminine folds as I worked to flex my love muscles around him like an SOS code: Oh Adam, finally I have you deep inside me, Oh Adam, you set me on fire, Oh Adam, please don’t stop poking my flames into a raging inferno, Oh Adam, yes, yes, YES! I shuddered out and he shattered in reply.

The fire may have been dampened but its frenzy was far from being quenched. Adam grounded out a deep throaty groan as he cupped my fleshy round bottom in both of his hands and lifted it up a foot from the bed as he drove into me, fast and slow, deep and shallow, hard and pleasantly easy. Like a dance, he varied his routine of sexual expertise to give me the most pleasure for the pleasure I was giving him. Adam was the first and only man to show me what pleasure there is with a generous lover who cares as much about his lady’s pleasure as his own.

Once I felt starved for this man’s attention as I used to watch him from afar and dream of his hands branding my naked flesh with his touch. Heck, he could melt my clothes and render me naked with just one look cast my way from his bedroom eyes. Sure, I pleasured myself and could reach my peak as I indulged in my fantasies of the man, but it’s nothing like having your fantasy fructify into reality and reaching your zenith with the real article and not a dreamed-up imitation, to have the real man you have long desired actually be inside you, thrusting away your fantasy as he thrusts you into the reality of pleasure, bringing you into a new dimension you two now share together.

There is nothing like it, girlfriends, you can take my word for it because that’s what was now happening to me with Adam.

And as I climaxed, I actually cried. I didn’t cry just because I hit the zenith of exquisite pleasure, but I cried grateful tears that I was with Adam and sharing this experience with him. Once I reached my crescendo, then so did he, howling out his release as he spilled his seed into my deeply furrowed depths. No sooner was I riding the ebbtide of my climax, then Adam brought me back again…and again. And do I dare say it…again! And being the generous person that I am, of course I did the same for him!

Adam filled me up completely…not just my heart with his smooth-talking poetic words, not just my soul with his music, but he filled up my velvet sheath with his most magnificent manly sword. Adam was the perfect fit. I knew he would be.

Then afterwards, as I laid in Adam’s embrace, my body deliciously languid from being ravished so thoroughly, I still felt the rosy glow of my climaxes and releases and I reveled in the delicious sensation. My head was cradled in the crook of Adam’s right arm, my tousled auburn mane fanned out behind me on the pillow, and Adam was leisurely tracing circles around the areola that haloed my rosette nipple. Seeing it awaken and perk up under his attention, he smiled a lazy but satisfied smile at it then leaning down, he gently suckled the bud. I started to moan and my hand went to the back of his head, my fingers entwining in his glossy black waves as I held him to my breast. Then he released my nipple and in the most loving way, he trailed gentle kisses around it.

“Thank-you for the education, Velvet,” he said so tenderly as his crystal-clear hazel eyes stared into my aqua depths. No man had ever spoken to me with such loving tenderness before. They were always out the door once their climax was over…never had a man ever lingered in my bed and looked in my eyes and spoke in such an intimate way. Never had a man wished to bask in the afterglow with me. But Adam stayed behind to linger. Together. It felt…nice. No, it felt more than nice. It felt like…bliss. I felt tears sting at the back of my eyes at this tender togetherness that Adam was sharing with me.

“You’re welcome…and Adam, thank-you for staying awhile and sharing these moments with me,” I said softly and I couldn’t stop the single tear trickle down my cheek. Silently, Adam wiped it away with his thumb, kissed my forehead and held my head against his bare shoulder. I nuzzled it underneath his chin as he caressed my hair.

As we continued to bask in the afterglow of our satiated passion for the other – satiated for the moment, that is – there was no denying that it had purpled our souls with the promise of possibilities. Where do we go from here? Only time will tell. But for this night let us enjoy the gift of the present.

I may be a Saloon girl and have even put up for sale my mound of Venus for the right price, but being enveloped in the tenderness of Adam’s encircling embrace, I can’t go back to the rawness of that life again. Not after knowing the rarity of being treated like a person and not a deviant. Being with Adam made me realize my sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of – quirks and all – and the worst bondage is not having the freedom to be yourself. Being with Adam made me realize I deserve so much more. And I will settle for nothing less.

Tags:  Bondage, Saloon