Abruptly, he slammed into me. I buried my face into the bed and screamed, I couldn’t decide whether it was pain or pleasure, but I didn’t get a chance to decide. He was pounding into me, hard and fast, and I was thoroughly exposed with my ass all the way in the air. He was in deep, deeper than he had been before. Deeper than I knew I went. I gripped the stocking tight as he continued to slap against me, every few pumps spanking one cheek, then the other. Then, he slowed, easing me down so that I was lying flat on my stomach, legs together, while he straddled me. I felt some warm oil being dripped onto my back, and he began stroking his cock into me, slow this time, in and out in what felt like a lullaby compared to what he was doing moments before. As he was doing this, he began massaging me, starting from my shoulders and working his way down until I felt immensely relaxed, and the tension was all gone. I felt more oil drip, onto my buttocks this time, and he began massaging them, continuing his slow in and out motion. He adjusted his position slightly so that his penis was pointed more downward, and it began rubbing against my g-spot, which I hadn’t even previously known existed. Still massaging my ass, he slid both thumbs inside my ass, just a tiny bit, maybe a half an inch. I groaned and lifted it slightly. He froze.
“Are you moving again? Do I need to get my horse whip?”
Horse whip? Well, that certainly escalated fast. “No, sir, I’m sorry sir.”
I settled down and forced myself not to react to his movements. He continued massaging for a moment, thumbs moving slightly just inside the rim. Then he removed one hand and slipped it around to the front, two fingers massaging my clit as he slid his other thumb all the way inside me and I felt the full weight of his body lay on top of me. He stroked my g-spot with his cock, and my clit with his fingers, and it took everything I had not to arch my back and slam my ass against him, for now I was craving the pounding he had given me moments before. I felt the pressure begin to build again, my g-spot swelling and making him feel bigger in the smaller space. I wanted my hands, wanted to touch him, hold him. My breathing became faster and my moans louder as the inexplicable explosion began to again build inside me. Without removing his cock from inside me, he managed to flip me on my side, straddling one of my legs and putting the other on his shoulder as he began to drill inside me deep and hard again, still angled at my swollen g-spot. The building orgasm doubled in its power, and I backed away unconsciously. He followed me, pounding harder, deeper until I could take no more, and just when I was at the edge of the chasm, about to fall head first into the incredible oblivion of rapture, he ripped the blindfold off. “Look. Watch yourself cum all over me,” he said as he lifted my head so that I had a clear view of him going in and out of me, his throbbing shaft disappearing and reappearing rapidly. The moment happened, and to my surprise, I was squirting all over, like a waterfall was coming from inside me. It soaked his entire midsection, and he kept going until the last drop was exhausted.
Swiftly untying the stockings, he yanked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and carried me through the doorway into the bedroom I had slept in the night before. I rubbed my wrists, happy to be free, but at the same time enjoying the sensation. His cock still inside me, I jumped with every step as it jolted my sensitive insides. He crossed the room and set me down. I thought he was done, but as I went to softly kiss him, he whipped me around, placing my hands on the wall, one on either side of a window. My eyes widened in horror as I saw all the guests milling around on the lawn below, laughing, drinking glasses of champagne. And here I was, butt naked and spread eagle right in front of the window with only a thin, almost translucent white curtain between me and them. I struggled to back away, but he held my hands in place on the wall as he entered me from behind. “Look at all of them, down there waiting for you. Do you think anyone can see you? Do you think any of them are watching from the corner of their eye?” I gasped, hoping they couldn’t, terrified that at any minute one of them would glance up and try to make sense of the moving figures behind the curtains.
“Oh, god, Jack, what are you doing?”
We were going to get caught any moment, I knew it. He instructed me to keep my hands right where they were, and he moved his to my hips, bouncing against me. It felt so good, but I was so scared. I wanted to close my eyes and disappear, it was humiliating, the thought of someone seeing me. My parents were down there, for god’s sakes! I tried to close my eyes but I couldn’t, I frantically scanned the crowd for someone looking my way. They had to all be waiting for us to come back down, someone was bound to glance towards the house, weren’t they? The outline of my naked body braced against the window wouldn’t be easy to miss. I continued my surveillance, heart pounding, as he continued pummeling inside me from behind, and I felt his grip tighten and him emit a series of low moans. Suddenly, an orgasm hit me out of nowhere, I hadn’t even felt it coming. My adrenaline level had been sky high for fear of discovery, but as the spasms rocked my body, I suddenly didn’t care anymore. Let them see. I cried his name out, and just as I did, he yanked me away from the window, and we fell onto the bed. He took just a moment to catch his breath, then stood up and began laughing. “I thought you were scared of getting caught? Why were you yelling for their attention?”
Feeling bold, I removed the stocking still hanging from one of my wrists and threw it at him, then I began laughing myself. He swatted it away, then laughed harder. He disappeared from the room for a moment, returning with a bowl and a washrag wearing a clean shirt, tie draped around his neck. “Clean yourself up, Mrs. Hudson, we have guests to entertain.”
I buried my face in my hands. “How humiliating, I’m sure we’ve been up here for hours, it’s so obvious what we’ve been doing. I can’t face them.”
He glanced at the clock. “Well, not that I give a damn what anyone invited to my house to see me marry my wife thinks, but I understand you still have your delicate sensitivities. It’s only been about 40 minutes, my dear, if you dress quickly, you’ll have a perfectly good excuse for your absence. A woman is expected to take some time to change out of her wedding dress. I’ll go down and warm them up. There is a reception dress for you hanging in the wardrobe, and you’ll find clean undergarments in the drawer.”
40 minutes? It seemed like we had been up here forever. The wedding ceremony seemed ages behind me. I jumped up quickly, giving myself the quickest of sponge baths, and dressed at the speed of light. Looking at myself in the mirror, I fixed my hair and powdered my face. I heard his voice float through the window. “You know how women like to take their sweet time getting ready. I suppose I’d better just get used to it now that I’m a married man.” I peeked out the window and saw him standing with my parents, gazing at the window with a smile. My parents were laughing and agreeing. Everything seemed ok, at least they hadn’t seen me at the window naked as a blue jay. I took a deep breath, trying to shake the fog from my head. I felt intoxicated. I checked myself over once more, and went downstairs to join the party. It all still seemed surreal, all these people treating me with reverence, as if I were someone important. Even my parents were behaving that way, acting all fancy and complimenting me on the house like it was mine. Well, I suppose it was now, in a way, but it still hadn’t really sunk in yet that I was married, that I lived here. Heck, I’d only seen a few rooms of the house.
We fulfilled all of our traditional obligations at the reception before wrapping it up. My parents were driven back to the train station (they were as impressed by the car as I had been) and they promised to visit again soon, my mother already hinting about grandbabies. The entire day felt like a whirlwind, and I found myself at the end of it collapsed in the parlor, staring into the fireplace. Jack came and sat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Big day, huh?” I nodded, eyes partially glazed. He brushed my hair back and pivoted his body so that he was facing me. “You really did look absolutely incredible today, you know.” I thanked him politely. His brow furrowed. “Are you ok?” he asked. I sighed. “Yes, I’m ok. Just tired, I guess. T
his has just been so…fast.”
He nodded, still studying me. “Why did you want to do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you assured me that no one was forcing you to get married, but why did you want this? Why sign up for the service? You’re a young, beautiful girl. Why not give yourself a chance to fall in love naturally?”
I shrugged. “I just wanted to find a good man to marry.” The words sounded as empty as they felt. He shook his head and clucked at me. “Now, Elle, we can’t very well expect to have a successful marriage if we can’t be honest with each other. Tell me what it is you want, what’s your end game? Everyone has motivations. Hell, obviously I had my own.”
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t want him to feel like I was using him, either. At the same time, I didn’t want him to think me a fool like my parents had. I cleared my throat. “Well, I come from a small town, there’s nothing there. There’s just the same old people doing the same old things, there’s never anything…better.”
“Better, huh?” He nodded as he took a sip of whiskey and puffed on his cigar. “Yeah, I can understand that. If you get a chance to get out of some dirty old town so that a man with good money can take care of you, why not take it?”
Suddenly, the fatigue I had felt from the whirlwind of a day I had had vanished, and I felt that old familiar fire rise up in me. I knew my parents had told me to keep my mouth shut and do as I was told, but I realized there, in that instant, I couldn’t. So this was my moment, it seemed. Sink or swim. I turned to face him, and he looked a bit shocked at the crazy must have seen in my eyes. “Why is it that people think all I could possibly aspire to is being taken care of? That the climax of my life, the best position I could possibly be in is to be taken care of? I don’t care about your damn money, Jack, and I certainly don’t care about being taken care of. I came here because there were no options for me back home. At least here it’s different, bigger. I know you just want a wife who will keep her mouth shut and do what she is told, and I appreciate all you’ve done to make me happy- the beautiful ceremony, bringing my parents here, I know you didn’t have to do all that, and I’m grateful, I really am. I will do what is expected of me, you don’t have to worry about that. But, no, my big goal in life was not to be taken care of.”
Jack was now sitting on the edge of the couch, looking at me as if I were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. “So what DO you want, Elle? What is your big goal?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve made it clear you want a woman who will do as she is told and be at your beck and call. I read your agreement. You’re very particular about how a woman should behave. I can do that. I just- I just don’t want you to think I’m only here for your money. I appreciate being able to live in comfort, it’s better than being at home, but money is certainly not the most important thig in my world.”
He sighed. “I didn’t even write that stupid agreement, my lawyer did. I don’t want some mindless drone of a wife. Look, yes, I do enjoy when a woman will submit to me completely, do as she’s told. But, in case you haven’t noticed, that’s really only something I care about in the bedroom. Call it a- weird fetish, or whatever. It’s just something I’ve always liked. Normal lovemaking never did it for me. I’ve had other women, yes, and I know I’ve gotten a bit of a reputation. I’ve had my fun, but even when I decided it was time to settle down and get married, I was surrounded by all these women that felt like robots, like they had no mind of their own, and even when I was enjoying myself, they were just…there. Playing a part. Now, forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you really seemed to enjoy yourself.”
I dropped my head, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, as I tried to withhold a giggle. He tilted my chin up so that I would look at him, and he laughed when he saw the sparkle in my eyes. “See, that’s what I mean! I’ve never had a woman like you, who enjoys what we do and actually asks for more, and I’ve certainly never had a woman who, as you so eloquently stated, doesn’t care about my damn money. So yes, Mrs. Hudson, your goals DO matter. It may have only been one day, but so far, you have made me pretty happy, little lady. What can I do to make YOU happy? What, besides making love to your husband, turns you on and puts a smile on your face?”
I stared at him, feeling like a dam that was about to burst. He was actually interested in my needs. I had all but resigned myself to a life of being the obedient wife, and here he was, asking me about my true passions. I took a deep breath and said the words that I had been mocked for my whole life, any time they left my lips.
“Learning, Jack. I love to learn. I want to get an education, a real one. I want to read books, all of them, not just the very few I could manage to scrape up back home. And I want to actually make an impact on the world. I want to go to university, I want to pass with flying colors, and I want to be a lawyer. I know that’s all very silly, and very rare for a woman. Everyone I know, especially my parents, have told me that time and time again. I know it probably won’t happen, but that’s it. And I want to travel, to experience other cultures, other places. I want to dine on strange food on an island where everyone doesn’t look and sound like me. I want to really experience life to the fullest. Those are my goals. That’s what puts a smile on my face.”
He was sitting there, staring at me, open-mouthed, and apparently dumb founded. Here it comes, I thought. I was about to get a lecture on how ridiculous I was, how he had expected me to say something like that I wanted my own garden or a brand new sewing machine. He was going to laugh at me. I saw his eyes light up and a smile cross his face. Yep, here it comes, I thought, and my spirits sank as I waited for the onslaught. Instead, he grabbed my hand and jumped up. “Come on!” he said, and yanked me from the couch, pulling me out of the parlor and down the hallway, almost running. We turned a corner, and at the end of another hallway we came to a set of closed doors, big and wide and made of deep, rich wood. He turned to me, panting. “You know, I haven’t given you a wedding present yet. I was going to take you shopping tomorrow, and let you pick out some fancy new dresses and some decorations for our bedroom so that it felt more like home, but I’ve changed my mind. This is your wedding present,” he said, gesturing at the door. “Consider it yours.” I looked up at him in confusion. He was giving me…what? A room? He was standing there, almost vibrating with excitement, literally looking like a child on Christmas morning.
“Well? Open it!” he exclaimed, nudging me towards the door. I put my hands on the handles and pushed the doors inwards. My mouth dropped open and I stood, frozen, eyes surveying what I saw in front of me. He pushed me into the room, easing me forwards, for it seemed my feet had forgotten how to move. I dropped to my knees, mouth still agape. Books. On every single wall, from floor to ceiling, books. There was even a rolling ladder to reach the books on the upper shelves, the likes of which I had only seen in pictures of libraries. The floors were wooden and covered with the biggest Persian rug I had ever seen. There were 2 couches and a chaise, plush and oversized. The only break in the walls of bookshelves was a large bay window complete with padded window seat, overlooking a small pond. There was a large desk that faced the window. I stood up slowly and approached one of the book shelves, running my hand over the book spines with complete reverence, as if I was witnessing one of the great wonders of the world. Eyre, Dickens, Whitman, Thoreau… I scanned the titles and authors frantically as if I was starving to death and someone handed me Thanksgiving dinner. I whipped around to face him, eyes brimming with tears. “For me? All of this? Me?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Yes, for you. And as for University, I believe classes start again next month, if you’re interested.”
“But- will they even let me go?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “My dear, the only reason that institution has any books to teach its students with at all is because I donated the library to them. Trust me, if I say my wife wants to learn, my wife will learn. We will arrange private
classes just for you, even.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I stared at Jack, the almost childlike glee he was expressing, all because he was able to make me happy. I had never before had someone actually care this much, let alone provide it for me.
“I was wrong, Jack. I absolutely love the way you take care of me.”
“No, my dear, I am simply enabling you to be able to take care of yourself.”
And with those words, I knew I loved him. I fell asleep in him arms that night, wrapped tight against him in our bed. I marveled at this feeling inside of me, this excitement, and this hopefulness. I felt like life was worth living and that I had a beautiful future ahead of me. It was such a stark contrast to the life I had come from, and I didn’t realize until now that I hadn’t been living, not really. I had simply been waking up and making it through each day. I had always had dreams, but it had felt like that’s all they were- dreams. I had never truly expected to achieve them. Now I had this beautiful house, this amazing husband, and a library. I had my very own library, and I would be starting university in less than a month. Life was incredible, and nothing could touch my happiness.
Jack spent the next week showing me around town and getting me familiar with my surroundings. He took me to some of his mines and explained the operation. He took me to Main Street, and we went in and out of the stores, each shop owner seeming thrilled that Jack Hudson himself would grace them with his presence. We strolled along, hand in hand, eating ice cream, buying little trinkets, tossing bread crumbs to the ducks in the park. He asked me about my life, my family. I told him all about where I had come from, what my father did for work and my mother’s obsession for sewing. I told him how they had tried for more children, but after me, my mother was barren, and so she had always talked about the hordes of children I was going to have. He laughed and asked me how many children I wanted. I told him that I would like children, maybe one or two I supposed, but I never saw myself chained to a stove while an entire schoolhouse circled my ankles. That was my mother’s dream, not mine. I was more concerned with my career, I hadn’t really begun to make baby plans just yet. He listened to everything I said, genuinely interested in learning everything there was to know about me, down to my favorite color, and whether I preferred my toast with jam or without. It felt like we were courting, though we were already married. It was lovely.
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