Lassoing the Virgin Mail-Order Bride

By: Alexa Riley

I run my hand over the bulging tip, thinking about how her tight pussy would squeeze it, and I feel my eyes roll to the back of my head. I’d love to spread her legs and see if she’s got blonde curls on her pussy, too. I don’t know why porn magazines always have women with bald ones. It does nothing for me. But thinking about Clare and her having a sweet little pussy with a patch of hair on it makes me want to bury my face in it and eat her.

Licking my lips, I moan as I picture her tiny legs wrapped around my head, holding me to her as tight as she can. She has some curves under that apron, so I know she’d be so soft. She’d be sweet and ripe for the picking. I wonder if she’s on anything or if she’s fertile. I bet even by getting the tip of my cock into her, I could get her pregnant. I could work on shooting my cum out hard and long so that it could get inside her, even if I can’t go all the way.

I start rubbing my cock in longer strokes thinking about it. How I need to cum inside her and make her mine. Each thrust into my hand is getting wilder and less controlled. I can’t hold on much longer.

Picturing her sweet face looking up at me as she licks her lips, I toss my head back and grunt out my release. I feel the force of my cum shoot out of me and onto the shower wall in front of where I’m standing. I open my eyes and smile at the white splatter on the stone. Should be a good enough length to get the job done.

I soap myself up and wash off, thinking about what I need to do to keep Clare. First off, we need to go into town in the morning and set this marriage thing right. She’s going to be Mrs. McCallister, and that’s the end of it.

I grab a towel off the rack and dry myself off. When I’m finished I stand there for a second thinking about what I’m going to do. Normally I just go into my room and get into bed naked. But I know Clare is in there, and I don’t know if she’s asleep or not. She may not be used to the hours on a farm and the frequent early nights and early mornings.

No matter what, my clothes are in my room, so I need to go in there.

Walking from the bathroom, I go to my bedroom and turn the knob slowly. It’s not locked and that makes me feel good. At least she isn’t trying to keep me out. Once I go in, I close the door behind me.

The room is almost completely dark. I see Clare asleep on the bed, the moonlight streaming in, showing her on her side, still fully dressed. I can’t help the pull I feel to her as I walk over to the bed and put my knee on the mattress. I hesitate for a second, but then pull my towel off and drop it to the floor as I pull back the covers and slide in. I spoon up behind Clare, thinking she could get cold, and I pull some of the covers over her as well. She moans a little in her sleep, and I stay stock-still as she moves a bit to cuddle into me. Once she’s settled, I put my head next to hers and bury my face in her hair. She smells like fresh-cut apples and home. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever smelled in my life, and as I drift off to sleep, I can feel the smile on my face.

She’s my home.

Chapter 5


I melt into his embrace, loving the feeling of having his arms around me. I feel cherished. Even if it isn’t real, I’m going to soak it up for a little longer. I can’t remember the last time I was cuddled. As a child maybe? A range of feelings flood through me at the thought. My mama and I loved each other, but she wasn’t super affectionate.

I breathe in his scent as he nuzzles into me a little more, his lips against my neck. He still smells like the sun, but this time it has a hint of soap. I shouldn’t be surprised that telling him to sleep on the couch wouldn’t work. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who could be told what to do. He did the telling and everyone jumped. I bet even when he was a little boy he probably stood his ground. The image flutters into my mind. I imagine a small, dark-haired boy wearing a cowboy hat that’s a little too big for him, but he still has that commanding look on his face. I’d guess Cash could stop a bull right in its tracks.

I don’t know if I should be irritated that he climbed into bed with me, but this is his house, and we’re getting married. Well, I think we are anyways. He hadn’t chased me down last night, or rebuffed my comment about him picking a bride more to his liking. Though at the moment, he seems to like me a lot. The man has yet to introduce himself to me properly, but he can’t seem to keep his hands off me.

Right now he has me locked up tight. It’s going to take some serious maneuvering to break free without waking him. I keep telling myself to get up from the bed, that I need to get a start on breakfast before everyone else rises, but here I lie, wanting to keep breathing him in.

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