Summary: Adam Cartwright has more erotic encounters with the free-spirited Velvet. A sequel to Velvet Captive, though this story can be read on its own.

Rated R      Wordcount: 8,886  SEXUALLY EXPLICIT

Velvet Series:

Velvet Captive
Velting the Cowboy

Velveting the Cowboy

  There he slaved over the hot sweltering forge behind the barn. He was hammering an object on his anvil. Was it a horseshoe or a steel rod for fencing…or maybe a giant key for him to dangle over his crotch the next time he came to see me wearing his well-worn chaps?

   He once told me “I have the key to your treasure and it’s just the right size too.” He said this with a raised eyebrow and his traditional lean against my door frame that always turned my bones all milky while my blood boiled and my lady garden started to gush its own brand of cream. Warm and spicy and waiting – no, aching – for Adam to churn me into butter.

   He had come by one night to my room above the Bucket of Blood Saloon. I was in the process of clipping on my garter belt to my stocking and at the sound of his smooth baritone voice I lost my hold and my garter belt snapped away from me. I turned swiftly, a telltale wanton flush already kissing my skin as I saw him there. In my bold and unashamed way, I stood before him in just my lacy thong – this one siren red – my well-endowed breasts stood proudly, the dusky-rose nipples already erect as they anticipated the leisurely seizure of Adam’s mouth upon them as he took each one inside, suckling one until it was standing at attention like a toy soldier. Only then would he turn his attention to its sister.

   How long had he been standing there? I found it quite arousing to think that he had been watching me dress and I was not even aware of it.

   I replied “You don’t need a key. My treasure is always open to you – and since our first night – only you. But you’re right. You’re just the right size to my fit. Oh, so impressively long as it is thick. So bold, eager, and patient to give pleasure. So strong and sensitive just like you.” I walked up to him with my practiced feline grace, nestling my lithe body against the lean of his as I ran my hands up his black leather vest and encircled his neck, gently rubbing my mound of Venus against the growing bulge in his pants.

   “I have seen the sun rise over the Sierra Mountains and have even seen the tallest Ponderosa Pines cast their shadows completely across Lake Tahoe, but until our first night together I had never seen anything as magnificent as this,” I whispered against his lips, my hand straying downward to firmly cup his swollen manhood being restrained inside his pants. I gave it a provocative squeeze. His breath became as ragged as my own at the contact. I stared into the liquid fiery pools of his hazel eyes as I swayed my hips and fitted every curve and contour of my volcanic vulva to every hard and rigid line of Adam’s manhood. Its immense, bulging elevation was straining to burst free. And it was hot. Very hot. It was emitting more heat than coals in a bedwarmer.

   Adam’s strong, calloused hands gently caressed my bare back before moving down oh so sensually slow and taking a firm hold of the twin half-moons of my buttocks. He squeezed them as he drew me closer to him, kneading my naked derriere. In my aroused state, I couldn’t stay still. I was hungering for more contact, so I turned around and arched my back like a cat against Adam’s front, grinding my bottom against his immense hardness, sighing and moaning lasciviously. His hands that a moment ago were firmly caressing my round bottom were now on my vulva. His left hand moved up to tweak my hardened nipples while his right laid over my juiced-up sex as if he was claiming it. He nuzzled his face into my neck as the index finger of the hand that laid over my sex prodded it through the red lace of my thong and with expert precision, it was on my hot little bud that was sure to make me a firecracker as Adam worked it into a frenzy.

   “This garter belt doesn’t seem like you. It’s too restrictive. Too conventional. Not like my original Velvet at all,” he whispered huskily between the trail of kisses he was blazing down my neck.

   “I was trying a new look…” I said, my voice already several octaves higher as I felt my crescendo near.

   “Don’t change.” I smiled at his reply. It was so nice to be with someone who accepted me as I was and his words brought me even closer to the edge as surely as his very talented hand. His index finger was working my clitoris, but without missing a beat he switched his finger for his thumb. His thumb was just as talented and while it was working me, Adam inserted his index finger into the hungry mouth of my sex. My feminine folds enclosed around him, fitting snugly around him like a glove as that most skillful digit lavished my hot volcanic core with shallow strokes that deepened into very pleasurable plunges. After a moment of feeling the strong thrusts of that one finger, then he inserted a second, his middle finger. So, while he was igniting a ring of fire around my clitoral wick with his thumb, he had two fingers inside me, stroking a rhythm at first slow and gentle, then he increased the tempo, his fingers moving faster and harder as he paid extra attention to that special spot inside my love canal. The magical spot that was sure to take me over the edge. I already felt myself teetering. Never one to deny my feelings, I let loose a riot of sensual sighs and throaty melodious moans that soon turned into staccato cries. I felt Adam smile against the soft nape of my neck as he whispered huskily how much he appreciated my enthusiastic responses. Adam was not only a finely skilled musician on the guitar, but he was also a musician – a sensualist musician – of the love making arts and majored in taking a woman to that place where thought or reason doesn’t exist. Only a firework display of the most crucial pleasure. And when I came, I didn’t know if I came because of what Adam was doing to me physically, or his words telling me not to change. I think it was a blending of both.

   I smiled as I thought back on that pleasure-charged memory and I could feel my juices pool at the entrance to my lady garden in response to it. I remembered the seductive way that Adam smiled at me and I smiled the same way right back at him. Forget the hot coals in a bedwarmer! Adam Cartwright could warm up my bed any day, any night, and in the most pleasurable ways too. Most definitely, Adam Cartwright was my preferred bedwarmer. My only one.

   My girlfriends and fellow working girls at the Bucket of Blood Saloon, Millicent and Leylah, could hardly believe it and asked why I was limiting myself to one man when there were so many others offering to buy me drinks for my time. How could I explain this to them? I told them “I could never settle for pork chops again when I’ve just had the juiciest and tenderest sirloin steak of my life.” Obviously, they were intrigued and wanted to know more. “Start dishing out the dirty details, Velvet,” they would say. But I wouldn’t. Never.

   Even before meeting Adam, I’ve always believed that gossip is the lowest form of conversation and I have better things to do with my time, better topics to discuss. Now, since Adam came into my life and he showed me that I deserve so much more, I would never cheapen our time together by circulating it as the latest gossip. I valued Adam – and now myself – too much for that. Some things should be kept private, especially between a man and a woman with genuine affection and genuine respect for the other. That’s how you show your partner that you cherish them like a jewel.

   Privacy is a precious jewel. It shines the brightest when a man and a woman keep it between themselves, but if you put it on public display and allow others access to it, then its lustre dims and its shine is just a pale flicker of what it once was. What was once a jewel has become a cheap piece of glass. Privacy is the light it needs to continue to shine purely.

   Since that turning point in my life when Adam showed me that I deserve so much more, I have stopped working at the Bucket of Blood. With his help, I found a small room at the International Hotel where I now live…and work as a seamstress. But not just any seamstress. I don’t cater to those fashion divas sporting the latest craze for egret-plumed hats. No, that’s not for me. Velvet’s not that conventional.

   I’m a seamstress for cowboy wear, specifically those buckskin chaps that cause me to flush hotly and turn me on like nobody’s business. Those rough and rowdy chaps that hug a cowboy’s legs that are strong enough to be shelling oysters, crushing walnuts, busting broncos…or riding me if that cowboy happened to be Adam Cartwright. Those chaps that accentuate a cowboy’s buttocks in the rear while in the front they frame his crotch in a most provocative display of blatant sex appeal and rugged sensuality that dared a lady to try to tame the man who wore such chaps. I had tried with Adam, but I’m still not sure if I were taming him or if I was the one being tamed. Hmmm…my ego won’t settle for a complete defeat, so let’s call it a draw.

   And since a person should follow their passion, I followed mine by designing and creating cowboy chaps in the daytime. But at night, I followed my passion for my favorite cowboy who wears them. Adam Cartwright.

   Which brings me to the reason why I was at the Ponderosa that day. I had just finished making a new pair of chaps for Adam. They were the traditional buckskin that he favored, but I added something special to them. I had deepened the contours of the heart-shape that would frame his manly package to be even more obvious. I even added some tassels with beads for a finishing touch. I couldn’t wait to give them to him.

   But before I did, I took a few moments to enjoy the view. The view of Adam working and sweating over a hot fire in the forge behind the barn, the sun sending its rays to shine on his raven-black hair, glistening over the sweaty sheen of his skin, ornamenting the swell of the muscles in his arms, over his strong back and powerful chest with a golden shower, wet and wanton.

   Nothing made me randier than the smell of a natural man. The salty tang of sweat that speckled a man’s brow like work-wrung kisses, ripened under the hot sultry sun as it trickled down his brow, down his rough chiseled jaw and neck, trickling further down into the manly fur that covered his extremely well-muscled chest, so firm and taut that you could bounce a silver coin off of it.

   The spice of his sex and his own personal aroma of masculine musk that clung to the pasture of curls on his chest, and how those scented curls trailed below the waistline of his pants, they just whetted my appetite to follow that trail. My sexual appetite, that is. No doubt, their scent would be even stronger on the curls that sprouted like a crown around the totem of his manly glory. The smell of a natural man ripened by sweat and sex, leather and sunlight, was Mother Nature’s aphrodisiac for those ladies who naturally ‘juiced up’ when in the potent presence of such a man. Such as I. Especially when it came from Adam Cartwright.

   His shirt was open as he worked over the hot forge, so the salty trails of his sweat ran out of my view. But I knew they were running into secret places where many a lady yearned to quench her thirst. And I was one of them. But more than that, I had quenched my thirst on the stream that sprouted from the tool of his virile power as I ran my hands over the plains and valleys of his country, his perfect physique, how it stirred my juices to the boiling point, how it caused my cookie jar to ache for Adam to remove the lid and taste my most delicious treat. The oven between my thighs had baked it just for him. I licked my lips lasciviously at the thought of Adam…eating me. Hmmm, yummy!

   “Enjoying the view?” Adam asked without turning around, his rich baritone voice was a sensual caress I could feel in the most intimate places on my body.

   I was wearing a dress of my own creation: a patchwork of different shapes of russet suede sewn together with moss-colored velvet, and at the bottom was a fringe adorned with turquoise beads. The dress fit me snugly as was my custom with the deep scoop neckline hugging my breasts while pushing them up at the same time. It was very flattering to my curves and very stylishly sexy. Some may say it was too much. Too sexy, too revealing. But I could say the same thing about those haughty ladies. Their dresses were too inhibited and restrictive with those high necks (I’d feel like I was suffocating if I were to wear them). Didn’t those women realize how corsets and restrictive clothes inhibited their movement and that’s why they were discouraged from participating in so many activities? Not to mention that their skin couldn’t breathe properly and their clothing was not only restrictive, but also very hot. Hot in the way of getting overheated from the sun. Hey, I like getting hot too, but not that way. Hot in the presence of a man is my preferred heat.

   My motto about clothing has always been, ‘why have a figure that other women would die for even if they would never admit to it, if you didn’t seize the opportunity to show it off?’ And so, never one to care what those uptight prim and proper ladies thought and with my determination to be true to myself, I designed and created the kind of dress I would want to wear. Even wearing the hemline scandalously high at my knee level. I could never wear an ankle-length skirt. I would just feel too repressed, too hidden. Too constrained like a caged lioness at a zoo.

   “Always,” I replied with a lustful smile, not surprised to discover that Adam was aware of my presence. Clever man. It was hard to get anything past him, even my visit, as silent as I thought I was. He was still aware of me.

   “Now what brings you to the Ponderosa, Velvet,” he said as he turned to me, unleashing the full force of his ‘bedroom eyes’. I could see that I was right as he stood before me: all sweaty, dusty and grimy with a petulant lock of hair falling out of place and over his forehead. He was still the sexiest man I had ever known, and I suspect, the sexiest man who ever lived.

   “I finished work on your new pair of chaps. I brought them over to you…they’re special,” I said as I walked toward him, the chaps folded across my left arm.

   “Ah, the chaps. Well, I suspect anything made by you would be special,” he said as he picked up a towel laying over a fence post and proceeded to wipe his hands, then was about to mop the sweat and dust from his brow with it…

   “No, let me,” I blurted as I took the towel from him.  I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be near Adam’s ‘natural aroma’ that aroused me so much. Tenderly, I patted the towel across his forehead, down his neck…then the curly fur on his virile muscular chest. I was right again. His natural scent of sex and sweat and sun clung to them. I felt my lady garden tingle deliciously as my nectar started to flow forth until my petals were dewy and unfurling their own aroma. I could feel them growing warm and rosy and pouting for attention. Soon, I was so slippery wet as if I had a tidal wave inside me and it finally broke free, drenching me in the orgasmic crashing of its hot-blooded waters.

   “Show me the chaps,” he said as he smiled a very manly smile. He knew well the effect he had on me. I held them up in front of him. He looked down at them.

   “Tassels?”

   “Well, if you’re going to advertise your sex appeal and masculinity in such a blatant manner as having a heart-shaped frame around your…manly glory, then you might as well go all the way and have tassels to go with the heart,” I replied pertly.

   “You should be grateful that I didn’t add bells too. I almost did” I added saucily upon seeing Adam’s look of uncertainty. Then he chuckled.

   “I should’ve expected this when I asked you to design another pair of chaps for me.”

   “Yes, you should’ve,” I said in my unabashed way. Then I strutted up to him, tilting my face up for Adam’s kiss. His lips were a luscious dessert upon mine, warm and salty sweet and all-consuming. Too soon, the kiss ended. I smiled. My appetite had been thoroughly whetted with that kiss and I knew that it was just a truffle to the delicacies we would soon share that day.

   “Try them on, Adam,” I said, still feeling the heat of our kiss. As did my body, it was warmly tingling.

   “Right here?”

   “Go in the barn and put on the chaps.” Adam smiled at me. He had told me once that being with me was like a breath of fresh spring air. He never knew what to expect. But as he turned to the barn, I surprised him with my next request.

   “And Adam…just the chaps. Take off your old work pants and just put on the chaps,” I said hungrily, my voice husky in the heat of my desire.

   “You are just a Pandora’s box of surprises today,” Adam said silkily as he turned to me.

   “Was Pandora as turned on by cowboys in chaps as I am? I don’t think so,” I said, answering my own provocative question. Adam recognized that mischievous glimmer in my aqua eyes and wondered what kinky adventure I had in store for him. With moi, the irrepressible Velvet, he could never tell. He learned where I was concerned, to expect the unexpected.

   “Yes, ma’am,” he said intimately as he appraised me appreciatively, then turned and went into the barn.

   As Adam changed, I took a moment to look around. The metal he had been working on now cooling on a table; the fire hissing as it died down in the forge; a bridle hanging on the outside barn wall. Then, another object grabbed my attention. Hanging casually on a fence post was a lariat. I went over to it and lightly ran my fingers over the rough fibers of the rope.

   “Mmmm, this definitely has potential,” I murmured to myself, thinking of the various possibilities – erotic possibilities, of course – that I could put to use with this rope. On a ranch such as the Ponderosa, such a rope would be looped into a lasso to catch runaway calves, and bring down steers and cows alike. The essential and obvious ranch work. But surely this rope could be used for some erotic play perhaps? I mused to myself and smiled.

   “Well Velvet, what do you think?” came a voice behind me. I whirled around to find Adam wearing the chaps I had made for him…and only the chaps. I had asked him to take off his work pants and put on the chaps. But he didn’t stop with just removing his regular work pants. He also took off his black shirt.

   Adam stood before me clad in the prime of his masculinity. The hard contour of his unshaven jaw softened by the sweetest and most seductive of smiles. The shadow of stubble that darkened his throat. The viridescent light of his hazel eyes, so clear, so deep, so open to what was new and untried. The broad shoulders swelled with the strength of his muscles, strong enough to lift a six-foot-long log – or a lady after falling in the street. The pasture of silken curls on his deep chest had since dried and now sprouted luxuriously over it as a symbol of his pure virility, potent with the best of what it means to be a man.

   Then downward my gaze wondered…and there it stayed transfixed. The chaps fit him perfectly as I knew they would. They hugged his strong legs and the heart that I took such care and gave extra attention to as I deepened the contours and accentuated its shape…framed his phallic powerhouse to absolute perfection.

   I took a few moments to walk around Adam, running my hands over his exposed buttocks, so firm, so taut, so perfectly molded by years of ranch work. My circle brought me back to face Adam where he stood with head held high, unabashed under my appraisal.

   “Do I meet your standards?” he asked, almost smugly, as he stared into my sea aqua eyes.

   “You’re overqualified,” I said a little breathlessly, as I trailed my hand down his chest to the belt holding up the chaps. It stopped as I fell under the spell of his love muscle framed by the heart and before my eyes, it flexed itself to life. A lot of people – okay, probably the vast majority of people – would say that the penis was not a love muscle and it was definitely not a muscle in any meaning of the word. But to me, it most certainly was. The way it grew big and rigid and swelled with strength, how it pulsed with power and even flexed as its elevation grew more pronounced, the pleasure it gave to a lady, and if there was genuine love or at least a shared affection between the couple, then the penis was most definitely a love muscle. In every way that mattered.

   I looked at it; at the impressive length and the equally impressive breadth; how it was growing bigger and thicker before my eyes. It was not yet fully erect, it was still a junior python but it was quickly on its way to becoming an anaconda.

   I wondered how many ladies had it pleasured, how many lost their maidenhead to Adam’s deflowering tool? I knew better than to ask. Adam would never tell me nor would I expect him to. As I said, privacy is a jewel and one that Adam greatly valued. Besides, a gentleman never kisses and tells. Neither does a lady. I guess that makes me a lady despite my soiled reputation from working in a Saloon.

   I couldn’t take my eyes off the sheer immensity of it! At last, the junior python had grown up into a full-fledged force of nature, potent with sexual prowess and the pure magnificence of masculinity. In just a few seconds, Adam’s anaconda appeared. It was swollen with strength and as rigid as the steel rod he had been working on in the forge. It stood away from his body as if it was a separate living entity in its own right.

   It was pointing at me, or more accurately, his anaconda was pointing at my pelvic area…as if it knew that just behind the skirt of my dress was a hot and very moist little cavern that was ready to welcome him inside.

   “Oh, Adam it’s glorious,” I breathed as I kneeled down in front of his anaconda. It was so engorged with unspent virility that the veins stood out beneath the flushed taut skin and its head was as glistening red as an unplucked cherry. I looked at its single eye and it looked back at me as if it really was a snake’s eye. A milky drop appeared from the eye.

   “Oh god, it makes me hungry. Oh Adam, it makes me so very hungry,” I crooned ravenously as I leaned forward and with my tongue I licked the milky drop. I closed my eyes as I savored the sweet treat. The proud pillar of Adam’s manhood quivered under my tongue’s raspy lick.

   “Hold on cowboy, you haven’t experienced anything yet,” I said as I stood up and walked to the fence post, aware of Adam’s eyes on my every move. I retrieved the rope and walked back, confident in myself and my sexual technique.

   “Now what are you going to do with that?” Adam asked, his eyes glazed over with stoked-up desire. Even his voice was roughened by the unreleased flames I had stirred to life in him. I could tell that he wasn’t wary of my intentions with the rope though. After all our time together, he was used to my kinkiness. Rather, I’d say he was intrigued.

   “You’ll see,” I said mischievously as I grabbed one burly arm and he relinquished the other with a smile, catching on to the game. Then I proceeded to tie his hands together behind his back, trying not to get distracted by Adam’s excellent posterior display. I couldn’t help caressing those bare succulent cheeks as I circled around him. And kneeled down before the feast in front of me.

   “You make me so hungry,” I sighed insatiably and Adam smiled down at me.

   The hot summer sun was blazing down on us, its bold light turning my autumn tresses into a halo of fire around my head. These were the days that screamed for the sweet need of ice cream, but the only ice cream I desired was right before me. Adam’s anaconda. Adam’s love muscle. So many names for the proud pillar of Adam’s manhood. So many names for the ultimate dessert I craved. Could it satiate my insatiable hunger? Time to find out.

   I took a moment to look at it again. Such a delicacy shouldn’t be eaten in a rush, but approached slowly to truly appreciate its flavor before the searing seizure of my mouth made its claim. So that’s what I did…but only for a split moment. Okay, okay…it was only a split second. A second of waiting was all I could endure before enjoying my dessert.

   Red and throbbing, it excited me. Big and hard, it drew me to it more than the richest sundae. My mouth watered in anticipation of taking it all into me, hard and deep, it was the only dessert I desired. Not willing to window-shop, or in this case window-eat any longer, I trailed a ring of liquid fire with my tongue around the base of the head.

   Adam moaned and his breath quickened as I opened my mouth and with one gulp I enveloped the head of his anaconda. Its head was already slicked wet with his own juices, but under the hungry seizure of my mouth his juices melted into me like my favorite chocolate dream. But sweeter. Much sweeter than anything else I’ve ever eaten. Sinfully delicious. In fact, I moaned as I savored and suckled the tremendous treat in my mouth.

   Then slowly letting it slide out, lollipop-style, I let the sweet cream of my mouth flow down the long shaft, thoroughly saturating Adam’s passion-pulsing male force. My saliva, as hot as it was, didn’t cool him down but turned up the heat instead. I felt it quiver and jerk in front of me, its glistening red head butting against my face. Adam’s moans were deep and guttural and he strained against the ropes but they held him securely (I learned to tie better knots). His anaconda butted against my throat, my cheek, my nose…my mouth. As a lover of animals, even the reptilian ones, I couldn’t deny feeding this snake. It was so very…pleasurable.

   But first I had to show some love to the large twin sacs that encased his “family jewels”. They dangled behind his giant throbbing phallic powerhouse, waiting for their turn for some affection. I gently cradled them in my hands, caressing them and gently tugging them as I bent my head and licked them, making sure I salivated all over these succulent appetizers. Adam’s anaconda eagerly butted against the side of my face while his moaning became deeper, more primal, and his hips…he couldn’t keep still. They had a rhythm of their own as I continued to lavish affection upon those sweetmeats. Oh, how I loved eating him! I savored every morsel! I took his family jewels into my mouth, sucking them as I lightly grazed them with my teeth. First one, then the other. I wanted to take both in my mouth at once, but with Adam, that would be just too much of a mouthful. As big as he was, even those jeweled orbs, both of them just wouldn’t fit. So, I gave them loving attention one at a time. When I released them from the case of my mouth, I nibbled them all over, then my nibbling turned into kisses and when I was done, his family jewels were covered in my cherry red lipstick.

   Now it was time to feed the anaconda. Adam couldn’t wait any longer…I had driven him into a frenzy with the loving I had shown to his sweetmeats. He was my thrall and needed to peak soon, so the full bloom of my lips made their claim again. I suckled the anaconda’s head into my mouth, then sucking hard as I took more of him inside me – as much as I could – finally I released him so I could brand his thick luxurious length with my own brand of fiery cherry kisses.

   With deep throat action and a strong sucking rhythm, I worked the magic of my mouth over him. I ran my tongue over the potent gun of his arousal, tracing along the hard ridges of the engorged veins, hot and slow. With the rise of each tantalizing degree, down and up again I traced strawberry swirls with the erotic art of my tongue. I felt Adam tremble with the ecstatic tremors I was provoking from him, along with the appreciative grunts and the heavy breathing to accompany my ‘mouth music’. I could tell that he was trying to hold himself back.

   “It’s alright to surrender yourself to the music I’m playing over the instrument of your desire,” I assured him as I looked into the primal fire of his eyes. “You’re a musician too. Surrender.”

   Then turning my attention back to the feast before me, I coveted his instrument with velvet licks down his leisurely length…with a powerful primal howl Adam started to buck his hips again, and knowing what was about to come I opened my mouth wide. Adam gave one tremendous thrust into my mouth with perfect precision. Holding him encased within my hot moist mouth and even the narrow passage of my throat, he filled me up beautifully.

   Then immediately, Adam followed that powerful thrust with another thrust and another. The time was now. He had to appease his own needs. His pace quickened as his thrusts became more urgent…then finally he exploded.

   Greedily, I drank the exotic treat he spilled down my throat. Warm and inviting, I took it all into me as I would the most decadent ice cream. But with Adam, as he thrusted his love muscle deep inside my mouth and then spilled his sweet treat down my throat…well, he was much better than ice cream!

   I basked under the luscious sensations he showered over me, like a starfish under the sun so did I glitter under his virile spray.

   Having been satiated and his anaconda losing some of its strength, he withdrew from my mouth. He looked at me as if dazed by the animalistic explosion of our oral feast.

   “What was that?” He mused out loud.

   “I call it ‘velveting the cowboy’,” I replied with a big smile, my eyes sparkling brightly.

   “And you didn’t mind swallowing…” Adam marveled at my originality. Most men, and Adam was no different in this regard, enjoyed and often loved it when a woman they were sharing such intimacies with, was so accepting as to swallow their seed. A lot of women didn’t like it, but Velvet…she seemed to revel in it.

   “No, of course not Adam. It’s a part of you,” I assured. “And Adam, I can tell you quite truthfully that you taste more divine than chocolate, you are more delicious to me than all the flavors of ice cream combined. You will always be my chosen dessert.”

   Touched beyond words, Adam tenderly caressed my cheek – in a manner of speaking. Though he was still tied to the back of the fence post, his eyes were so expressive that I could feel him touching me with just the sensitive, compassionate current of his gaze. On my face, my cheek, my mouth. I could feel his intangible touch very tangibly. He looked at me with such warmth crackling in the depths of his hazel eyes. It made me feel…cozy. And cherished. Feelings I wasn’t accustomed to experiencing. In my mind, I nuzzled my face into the warmth of his cupped hand as I closed my eyes and relished this tender show of care and affection. I softly sighed in contentment.

   When I opened my eyes, Adam was still looking at me. A furrow creased the space between his dark brows. “But you didn’t have your climax yet. You were concentrating on my pleasure so much that you didn’t have yours. Now, that’s not right. I need to rectify that as soon as I recover,” Adam said seriously, as if my pleasure was a primary topic of concern. I’ve never met another like him. He is such a gentleman. In every sense of the word, I thought to myself.

   “Oh, believe me Adam, giving you pleasure was my pleasure,” I asserted. “I loved eating you,” I said low and husky and licked my lips to drive home the truth. Adam smiled at the gesture.

   “But still. You need your climax. And I’ll make sure you get it,” he said authoritatively, his eyes glittering with tongues of green and brown fire stirring to life with his renewed passion. I looked down at the man-meat I had been feasting upon. It was now back to its normal size of a junior python but even that was impressive. Extremely impressive. I could see a stirring to life in its thick length and I knew it wouldn’t remain a junior python for long. Not very long at all. I flushed hotly at the thought and I felt a delicious quickening stir to life within the depths of my love canal. My intimate quickening seemed to be in tune to Adam’s. As I watched his love muscle grow and swell and flex…so did my love canal tingle sharply, causing its waters to flow.

   “I’m sure you will,” I concurred, my eyes mesmerized by the growth of the object of my desire, framed deliciously by the chap’s heart. No, not long at all. In the meantime, there were still games to be played.

   I stood up, dusted the dirt and hay off my knees and untied Adam. I gave another lingering caress to those posterior succulent cheeks again before circling back to face him. He was rubbing his wrists from where the ropes had chaffed him.

   “Now, I’ve always wanted to learn how to use a lariat,” I said as I swung the rope from my right hand. “Will you teach me?” There was a barely concealed suggestive note in my question that I could see Adam readily detected from his smile.

   “Have you ever lassoed anything before?” He asked as he took the rope from me and proceeded to loop it, then knotting it to form the lasso.

   “My little sister Cashmere once. She took my emerald earrings.” Adam chuckled softly.

   “Now, this is the proper way to hold a lariat,” he said as he placed the lasso in my grip with his hand over mine to show me how to get it in the right position.

   “Oh. I need to get closer to you. Much closer,” I said in my insatiable feline voice as I backed up into Adam standing behind me.

   “Ahh, now that’s better,” I sighed, wiggling my behind against Adam’s crotch. “No, on second thought…” I said as I lifted up my velvet and suede patchwork skirt so I could nuzzle my bare bottom against Adam’s bare essentials. I wasn’t wearing any panties that day – not even my traditional thong – aren’t I the shameless one! So, with skin against skin, it was easier access to our pleasure.

   “Now, that’s much, much better, ahh, oh yeah, hmmm yummy,” I sighed lushly as I pushed back my round bottom into Adam, then swayed my hips against him, nestling my behind against his sweet spot like a kitten nestling into her bed of comfort. Only the bed I was seeking was a bed of the juiciest, hottest, most sensational pleasure I could reach.

   “Are we done with the lesson for today?” Adam asked huskily. I could hear the desire in his voice rising…as well as feel it. The junior python had disappeared and in its place the anaconda had reappeared. It was fully awake again and pressing fierce and fiery against my bottom as I grinded myself against him.

   “Hmm ymm,” I sighed, eyes closed as I gyrated myself harder against Adam and he answered with a pelvic rhythm that pushed the virile force of his hardness against my bare behind, seeking the hungry mouth of my sex.

   “Oh yeah…there’s another lesson I want to learn,” I crooned in my mounting desire as I arched the back of my hips upward so the fiery bed of my vulva was dancing wantonly against Adam’s enormous lady-pleasing instrument. It was so juicy that I kept slipping and sliding against Adam and in just a few seconds his anaconda was thoroughly saturated in the scented nectar of my lady garden…as well as my inner pink petals being branded with his phallus’ virile milk. In essence, our juices mingled. Deliciously so.

   “Oh Adam, you make me feel so good and you’re not even inside me…”

   “Yet,” Adam finished my sentence as he ran his calloused hands up and down the creamy softness of my thighs. His touch was electric and caused me to writhe against him. I felt the head of his anaconda prodding apart the desire-engorged lips of my vulva, seeking to enter the hot moist cavern that laid ahead. But I couldn’t hold still and I knew – as Adam knew too – that half the fun was getting there. So, my hips continued to writhe and dance, my vulva teasing and taunting Adam’s anaconda just like any expert snake-charmer. Only this snake-charmer was just as aroused as the snake and both desired the same goal: union.

   Get on with the lesson, Velvet! I chastised myself. There’s a time for teasing and there’s a time for torching…and that time is NOW. Let Adam and I torch each other until the sun drowns his fire in the west and the stars exhaust their radiance after watching the radiant ignition of us.

   “Adam, the lesson I want to learn is…” I said breathlessly.

   “Lesson? Am I to be the teacher now?” he chuckled, his lips trailing fire from the nape of my neck, down my throat and to the swell of my proud breasts straining against my plunging neckline.

   “What lesson do you wish to learn, Velvet.?” He asked all silky and sensual.

   “Not so much a lesson as a manner…I want you to take me horsey-style, Adam. Oh Adam, take me from behind in the manner of horses. Take me horsey-style,” I excitedly said, my voice rising several octaves in my desire to be thoroughly ravished in such a way.

   Adam’s hands stopped their roaming as I gave voice to my equine preference. Then squeezing about the waist, he held me still for a moment as I felt his teeth lightly graze the contour of my throat.

   “As you wish,” he whispered hotly against my skin, causing the fine hairs on the nape of my neck to shiver excitedly as if a balmy breeze blew by. I felt like I was a beach, my sand baking for the longest time under the sun’s oven-rays, and Adam was the incoming tide, hot and passionate, coming in to quench my thirsty beach-sand body. If he could. My beach-sand has been known to be unquenchable, an insatiable sensualist. But Adam was a sensualist too – as he proved that when his sensuous mouth opened, and with his hot tongue he licked a trail of lava up my neck to my jawline and having reached his destination he gave my earlobe a sharp nip. My heart leapt up at this thrill and I felt a silvery tingle sparkle through my body at what was to come. Adam’s hands meandered down my dress and stopped at the fringed hemline. Then, with a sudden startling motion, he lifted up my dress and I instinctively lifted my arms. He whisked my dress over my head and tossed the garment against the fence.

   “First of all, horses don’t wear clothes,” he said in his most seductive voice. The way that turns my knees to jelly and makes me feel like a riot of fireflies are in my belly. “Get ready for the ride of your life.”

   His words, said so low and intimate, caused my heart to leap wildly – very much like a nervous mare before her first ride – only this mare was very much looking forward to being ridden. The wilder the ride the better was the axiom formulated in my boiling blood.

   My breathing accelerated as Adam, with his hands on either side of my waist, bent me forward until I was on my knees while at the same time he lowered himself over me. Eager in my heat, I put down my hands, spaced wide apart so I was well balanced.

   The beast with two backs, I thought to myself as I felt Adam’s chest envelope my back, its luxurious mat of curls tickling my polished plains. He kneeled behind me, his strong thighs were the shadows of mine as his buckskin chaps pressed against my tender bareness.

   And so, there I was. Positioned ‘horsey-style’ on my hands and knees with my round bottom cushioned against the seat where stood the totem of Adam’s virile power as I waited – in wanton unrest – for my stud of a stallion to ride me. Like I’ve never been ridden before in my life.

   His most talented tool, his lady-pleasuring instrument thrusted forward and rubbed against my vulva, causing its pleasure-petals to buzz deliciously with each honeybee stroke. My breathing, ragged and rapid, was accompanied by the heavy and harsh breathing of Adam situated over me as he teased my opening. Oh god, it felt so good!

   His potent totem skirted close to the mouth of my vulva, teasing it relentlessly with unfulfilled promises, then skirting away. Oh, how it hungered for Adam’s tremendous treat…to sink himself into it and savor it like sponge cake. What a sinlicious dessert!

   “Adam, please!” I begged, pushing my behind backward, seeking the ultimate pleasure of Adam’s love muscle.

   “Please, what?” he asked with feigned innocence.

   “Please take me!” I cried.

   “Are you sure you’re ready?” He teased, but as he asked such a ridiculous question his right hand moved from my waist to my unfurled orchid. He felt my wetness. I was so wet that I was dripping…literally dripping the dew of my desire. I could sense him smile a very satisfied smile. I was beyond ready. I was ‘dripping ready’ and he knew it.

   “You’re so wet…,” he grunted over me, inserting two fingers inside.

   “…as only you can make me,” I finished his sentence, my love canal pulsing around his fingers that gently stroked the first two inches inside my velvet glove, giving them a firm hug. Then with a stronger pulse, I drew them deeper inside. But pushed them out again with the next pulse. I could tease too.

   “Oh, you little…lioness”.

   “Tame me if you can,” I panted, pushing backward into him again.

   Finally reaching the limit of our little game, Adam readied his powerful love muscle at my gushing-wet entrance, his hands on my breasts. I felt him poise himself for the plunge.

   “Hard,” I panted in my rampant heat. “Come into me hard…take me hard and deep.”

   Adam hesitated for barely a second, then I felt his hands leave my breasts to take me by the hips, holding me steady for his powerful entrance.

   And powerful was the perfect word for it. As well as magnificent. Gathering all his strength and directing it into his tremendous love muscle, Adam drove into me. Hard and hot and oh so deep.

   He howled and I screamed…both with rapturous pleasure of course. Together, we moved with the rhythm of a horse and rider.

   His hands were back on my breasts, massaging the voluptuous mounds until my rosy nipples were hard and erect and pressing into his palms. Oh, how I loved it when Adam squeezed my breasts as if he were milking them to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, milking me of all I had to give…and I gave it all. When his long fingers tugged on my nipples, those hardened bullets of desire, I screamed his name until my voice was raspy.

   Then his hands left my breasts to take their place back on my hips as he raised me up, and holding my hips snugly against him, he pounded into me and plundered my juicy depths. I felt like an over-ripe fruit split open and turned inside out and upside down and oh, as Adam brought me to the edge and plummeted me over, how I thought I was going to die from the excruciating pleasure. There was a good reason why the French called orgasm ‘la petite mort’. The little death. And I was dying little by little. In wave after convulsing wave.

   “What about you and your climax?” I had asked as I could see he was holding his back as if it was wearing a bridle.

   “Don’t worry about me”, he groaned out. “This is all for you Velvet. You served me earlier without any thought to your climax. Now it’s your turn. And I’m going to give it to you, any way you wish, and more.”

   Then before I had a chance to recover from ‘the little death’, Adam varied his sexual prowess and started circling his powerhouse penis inside me…above, below, the sides…all thrummed and pivoted under him until I felt like I was an orgasm that would never end.

   After a few moments his rhythm changed, becoming more fluid then fierce. Like any faithful mount, I followed my rider’s lead. As we moved together and I met Adam’s forward thrusts with my backward thrusts, I flexed my love canal around the luxurious length of his love muscle. Our ride was just like breathing. But Velvet here, was in a fierce mood for her cowboy’s ridership abilities.

   “Take me harder, Adam! Please, don’t stop. Take me harder!” I screamed as I felt myself climbing to meet my next crescendo.

   My heavy breasts swayed and bounced in joyous response to the force of Adam’s earth-shaking thrusts slamming into me while his twin sweetmeat sacs slapped against the crown of my vulva, causing my clitoris to hum with pleasure. This time, when I reached my crescendo I didn’t do it solo. But Adam took off the bridle and together we exploded in a duet of screaming fireworks and a disemboweled constellation of stars.

~~1~~

   We really did ‘torch each other’ until the sun had sailed to the west, because when we came back to earth that was exactly what the sun was doing. His sails were unfurled in streaks of lavender and dusky pink, a silhouette of amber was all that was left as he drowned his fire below the horizon. We had since donned our clothing but we were in no hurry to part. Together, we stood at the fence post and watched the twilight claim the sky.

   Adam had his muscular arm around my shoulders, playing with a wayward tendril of my auburn tresses, absentmindedly coiling it around his fingers while we enjoyed this moment. And basked our souls in our shared afterglow. As for me, I felt…fulfilled. Adam not only filled up my hot and juicy love canal – how he filled it up so beautifully I could never find the right words to express the cosmic magnitude of our coitus – but he also filled my soul with light, my heart overflowed with feelings I’ve never felt in the presence of a man before. Only with Adam. As we stood at the fence and gazed at the sky together, I just basked my soul in these feelings. It seemed a sacrilege to speak at such a moment. There were times when silence should reign and this was one of those times.

   Until we heard a wagon approach, its wheels crunching the dirt and pebbles underneath. We turned at the sound. It was Little Joe having returned to the Ponderosa with a wagon-load of supplies for the Midsummer solstice party the Cartwrights were planning on hosting later that night.

   “Hi Velvet. I didn’t expect to see you today,” Little Joe said as he jumped down from the wagon, his usual jaunty twinkle lighting up his mossy green eyes.

   “Yes…I had to bring over Adam’s new chaps,” I said nonchalantly.

   “I’ve heard a lot about the chaps you design. So how do they fit, Adam?” Little Joe asked, leaning against the side of the wagon and smiling his charming smile.

   “Ummm, they’re a perfect fit,” Adam said hesitatingly.

   “In every way,” I had to put in with a big smile. Adam softly chuckled.

   “I’m looking forward to seeing them later,” Little Joe said as he walked to the back of the wagon and missed seeing Adam’s raised eyebrow and amused smirk. I had to stifle a laugh. There was no way Adam would model his new chaps for his little brother the way he had for me!

   “By the way, Adam, here’s the Virginia City Chronicles you asked for,” Little Joe said as he tossed the newspaper to him. Adam unfolded the paper and scanned the front page. “Uh oh, there was an earthquake in San Francisco,” he said, his black brows arching downward until they resembled crows’ wings.

   “I thought I felt the earth move,” I said in feigned seriousness. Adam looked at me, trying to let me know to take it easy with the innuendo around his kid brother, but he knew I wouldn’t take him seriously when he was suppressing a smile.

   “This happened last week,” Adam said.

   “Oh…it must’ve been another earth-shaker I was feeling this afternoon,” I playfully mused. I couldn’t help myself – I was having too much fun!

   “So, Velvet…are you going to stay for the Midsummer party tonight?” Little Joe asked, not catching on to the hidden meaning behind Velvet’s words so he started to unload the wagon, placing the boxes on the ground.

   “I don’t think so, Little Joe…I’ve already got a lot of sun this afternoon,” I said, thinking of the sunburn I could already feel on my back and legs…and my posterior cheeks. I could tell that Adam had the same thought as he discreetly patted my extra-tender tush. I playfully pushed his hand away before Little Joe noticed. Adam had already offered to apply some soothing ointment to those sensitive areas later, which I was looking forward to. Hmm, more yumminess!

   “That’s too bad,” Little Joe sympathized. “We’re going to have roast beef, roast pork…and for dessert Hop Sing has made ice cream and sponge cake!”

   “I’ve already had lunch…during my visit Adam served me the juiciest and tenderest piece of steak I’ve ever had in my life…and then for dessert I had ice cream. Well, actually I had the ice cream before the steak,” I said innocently, my eyes wide. Adam did his best to stifle a belly-laugh at my clandestine candor.

   “And I had sponge cake for dessert,” he said, his brilliant hazel eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

   Little Joe looked from Adam to Velvet and back again. He felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure out the joke.

   With Adam and Velvet, who knew?

The End

Tags:  Barn, bondage