Sweetest Submission

Due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship, this story is intended for mature readers only.  My muse of late has been Florence, with her überdrama-queen lyrics, primal rhythms, and soaring, exultant vocals.  Plus those crazy ladies over at the Gunsmoke Gang Proboards.  They are exceedingly demanding taskmasters.  Fics on Demand, at your service…

“Bedroom Hymns”

This is as good a place to fall as any
We'll build our altar here
Make me your Maria
I'm already on my knees

You had Jesus on your breath
And I caught Him in mine
Sweating out confessions
The undone and the divine

This is his body, this is his love
Such selfish prayers and I can't get enough, oh

Yeah, I can't get enough

Spilled bitter tears, I did this for you
Spilling over the idol, the black and the blue
The sweetest submission, drinking it in
The wine and the women, the bedroom hymns

Florence and the Machine, Ceremonials c2011

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Beau’s lips are soft, warm, living velvet nuzzling first my cheek, then my skirt pocket for the treat he knows I’ve hidden there.  I slip out a sweet, juicy apple and shine it on my bodice, taking a small bite to gently tease him.  He nickers and bobs his head, and I smile, holding the apple flat for him to eat out of my hand. 

I come here to Moss’s quiet stable whenever I can manage to slip away from my rowdy saloon, to stroke my horse’s sleek neck, look into his dark, soulful eyes and breathe in his earthy smell.  After an evening of dealing with drunken cowboys and overfamiliar patrons, these nighttime visits to my overgrown pet calm me and restore my sanity.  I whisper in Beau’s ear as he crunches, telling him what a handsome boy he is…what a good boy…

Suddenly behind me, a low, familiar voice in my ear asks, “How come you never say that to me?” 

His breath stirs the curls on my neck, tickling my skin as my lips curve into a smile.  “I never knew you needed me to tell you when you’re being a good boy, Marshal…”

“You’re gonna’ make Buck over there jealous…”  His lips hover near my temple as he protests, “Apples?  Buck never gets apples…”

“Oh yeah?”  I pull another apple out of my pocket, and Buck whinnies softly at the sight.

Matt reaches over me to rub beneath Beau’s forelock and complains, “I wondered why my horse was getting fat.”

“Oh, Matt…”  I pout prettily and head to Buck’s stall, holding the sweet apple out to the eager horse.  I can feel Marshal Dillon following me.

I stroke Buck’s forehead as he chomps the fruit and feel Matt’s arms wrapping comfortably around my waist.   I close my eyes and lean back heavily against him.  I hope Moss Grimmick doesn’t come back from his supper anytime soon.

I can feel Matt’s voice rumbling in his chest as he admits, “I’ve missed you.”

Matt has been away in Hays City for five days.  He’d been serving as witness for the prosecution for a man who killed his wife’s lover in cold blood.  The wronged husband hunted the paramour down and shot him on Front Street in front of witnesses.  Matt had been troubled by the facts of the case, and before he had left, I’d lain awake with him, discussing his doubts and convictions into the wee hours of the morning. 

“I’ve missed you, too, Cowboy.  Are they gonna hang him?”

“Yep.”  A heavy sigh.

“The law’s the law, Marshal.  Doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

“That’s my speech, Kitty.”

“I know...”  I turn my head to nestle my cheek against his broad chest.

He pulls me more tightly against him and kisses my hair, stroking my arms while he silently ruminates.  Then his voice turns contemplative.  “Ever made love in a barn?”

“What?” I laugh.

“You heard me.”

“I know but…”  I roll my eyes incredulously and chuckle, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He nuzzles my ear and breathes, “Nobody’s here but us…”  His big hands slide up my belly to cup my breasts through the material of my shirtwaist.  “…and the horses…” 

“Matthew Dillon!  Why, I never…”

“I know you’ve never…” he chuckles and nibbles at my ear.  “That’s why I thought…”

I slip away from his grasp and whirl around, pointing my finger at him.  “You’re crazy, Matt, if you think I…”

The mischievous look on his face gives me a split-second warning to duck his impending lunge.  I dart behind a wooden beam, my finely chiseled eyebrow creeping slowly upward.  “Ma-aatt…” I caution him.

He stands stock still, hands folded while smiling innocently.  Suspiciously, I eye him from behind the beam.  Suddenly he dashes towards me, and I take off running, peals of raucous laughter trailing behind.  I reach the hayloft ladder before he does, quickly climbing halfway before he manages to catch me, wrapping his arms tightly around the skirts at my knees, effectively pinning me.

“Matt, let me go, dammit!” I demand, through a hiccupping giggle.

To my utter astonishment, he responds by firmly biting my derriere through the folds of my skirt.

“Ow!” I howl, laughing so hard I think I may possibly fall off the ladder, except for the big teeth apparently holding me resolutely in place.  I shake him off unceremoniously and quickly climb the rest of the way up the ladder, collapsing in the sweet-smelling hay on my belly in a breathless heap.

I hear Matt clambering up behind me, flopping down noisily, halfway atop me as I grunt.  He wearily removes his hat and tosses it to the side.   The fleeting thought that I am glad I am wearing my sturdy, dark broadcloth skirt tonight and not something fancier flits through my mind.  But then, I forget everything when Matt growls and his warm, wet tongue slides into my ear.

“Ma-aatt,” I moan.  “We can’t do this…”  He silences my protests by ferociously capturing my lips with his own.  Matt knows how to kiss me senseless, and he single-mindedly begins to do precisely that.  He plunders my pliant mouth, his tongue sliding hotly inside, his lips teasing and caressing mine until I’m burning low in my belly and he knows it.  He reaches a hand down, as his kisses sear the tender skin of my neck, to slide my skirt up my leg and over my hip.

“Oh, Matt, we can’t do this here…” I hiss as his big hand slides up and down my thigh until I shiver wantonly.

“Watch me…” his voice rumbles, and he rises to his knees, drawing me to my hands and knees as well.  He gathers my skirts and shoves them above my waist, his nimble fingers expertly untying my pantaloons and tugging them down my hips.  I groan when the air rushes over my heated sex and Matt’s burning eyes drink me in. 

“Relax, Kitten,” he sooths, nudging my knees further apart. 

Closing my eyes, I bite my bottom lip and lay my head low on my folded arms when his intentions become clear to me.  His tongue darts out tentatively to taste me from behind, and I shudder with anticipation, gooseflesh prickling my sensitized skin.  His fingers comb my auburn curls apart, and his breath is hot and damp between my legs.  As his thumbs part my folds, a soft whimper escapes my throat and my entire body trembles while the flat of his tongue rakes over my nakedness.  I feel his hungry mouth humming against my aching exposed flesh, which I give to him freely for the taking.  He takes and he takes until my center is dripping for him, and I hear my name chanted from his ministering lips again and again, brushing against my molten sex to the sound of my helpless cries.  His fingers join his lips and tongue in tirelessly pleasuring me, until he finds my tremulous, pulsing nerve bundle. 

“Jesus, Matt,” I hiss against my folded arms, my fingers clutching at the silky fabric of my sleeves, my hips instinctively writhing against his face.

“Come for me, Kitty,” he breathes, and his tongue works its dark magic on my sweat-sheened body until my head is swimming and I can’t hold myself up.  He clutches my thighs and kisses me intimately in a way no one will ever touch me except my sweet cowboy.  This is my last rational thought when white light explodes behind my eyes and my inner muscles quiver helplessly and I am crying out and crying out and clutching the hay beneath me until I think I might die.

When I come to myself, Matt is stroking my hair and asking softly, “You okay, honey?”

I groan quietly with one eye open, “Am I still breathing?”

“I sure hope so, sweetheart, or else I wouldn’t be able to finish this…” he chuckles, unbuckling his gun belt and laying it aside.  I smile as I watch him bonelessly through the curls of my mussed hair, unbuttoning and freeing his impressive length, quite obviously ready and waiting for me.

I manage to rise somewhat shakily to my hands and knees, and murmur in a sultry voice, “Come ‘ere, Cowboy…”

 He grins a little shyly and bends over me, taking me from behind.  I am so wet and slippery due to his skillful ministrations that his hard length deeply penetrates my glistening sex with ease.

“Breathe, sweetheart…” he soothes, and one hand reaches down to unbutton my shirtwaist, slipping inside to cup my breast beneath my corset.  “That’s better…” he murmurs when my breaths begin to quicken as he kneads my soft flesh and rolls my aching rosy-peaked nipple between his fingers.

He moves inside me slowly, taking his time, caressing my heaving bosom and whispering low in my ear.  My breath hitches in my throat and I begin crying, like my heart will break, and I don’t even know why. 

Matt brushes the hair from my face and asks softly, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I don’t know…  Nothing…  I…” My voice breaks and my heart swells in my chest.  “I just…I just love you so much, Matt.  Sometimes it’s overwhelming...  I’m sorry…” I apologize as I swipe at my eyes.

He shushes me and kisses the tears from my cheek and murmurs, “Don’t ever be sorry for loving me, Kitty.  Please don’t ever be sorry.”

I whisper back to him, “You’re so good to me…  So good to me…”

His fingers slip down to caress my secret, aching woman’s flesh and I gasp, “Faster, Matt…”

He obliges me by thrusting with a primal rhythm that helps to slake our carnal desire for each other’s bodies and makes my intimate muscles tense exquisitely tighter and tighter until I can’t hold on any longer.  Once again, my body shudders with abandon, and Matt groans when he feels my velvet sheath tighten and pulse over his hard length.  He comes inside of me, hotly, with a guttural cry.  At last he collapses on top of me, our bodies tangled together as one in the sweet hay. 

He moans tiredly and his hand strokes my back comfortingly.  “Did I hurt you, baby?”

I roll over to face him and lightly kiss his cheek.  “No, I’ve gotten kind of used to all that weight on top of me over the years…”

He begins picking hay out of my hair.  “Very funny, Miss Russell.”

I pick a hayseed out of my teeth and delicately flick it away and say, “I’m a mess.  I’m going to have to sneak out of here.”

“And go up the back stairs to your room?”

“Why do you think I had those stairs put in?”

He gently rubs the remaining stray tears from beneath my eyes and pipes up, “I thought it was so I could sneak in.” 

With that, the front entrance to the stable bangs closed, and I can feel my eyes get big as saucers.  Matt’s eyebrow flies up in alarm as he places a cautioning finger over my mouth.  Moss is back. 

Matt jumps up, quiet as a cat and quick as lightening, scrambling to fasten his pants and gun belt while reaching for his hat.  I furiously button my shirtwaist and help to brush the copious amounts of hay off of Matt’s clothing and hair. 

Wait here, he mouths before peeping cautiously over the edge of the loft and heading down the ladder. 

Before he is halfway across the room, Moss’s voice calls out a greeting.  “Evenin’, Marshal!”

“Evenin’, Moss.  Say, I was just makin’ my rounds and I thought I heard something.  You wanna go out back with me and check it out?”

“Sure, Marshal, I’ll go with ya’.  Was it a critter…or a man?”

“Don’t know, Moss.  Let’s go take a look…”

Matt throws a last glance up over his shoulder as he urges Moss Grimmick toward the back door.  I peer over the edge of the loft just in time to blow him a silent kiss before I clamber down the ladder and head for the back stairs of the Long Branch, scattering hay in my wake and chuckling quietly to myself the entire journey.

End

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