Would this Cassidy Boone like what he saw in person?
My thoughts drifted now to him. What sort of a man was lonely enough to order a bride? It wasn't unheard of, of course. Many men in the west wanted a woman to take care of matters indoors, especially those who had lost a wife or ran a large farm. Would he have children? I hoped not.
In my bag was a dress I'd sewn on my own, with only the finest fabric. Surely marrying a stranger wasn't quite what I had planned for myself, but the thought of a wedding had always been so dreamy to me. The news of the priest in his letter was alarming and discouraging, but part of me was equally grateful. Maybe now we would have time for falling in love, so I could be happy on my wedding day. Happier than I would be with a stranger, at least.
Thinking of it now, my heart sped up. I could see myself standing in front of a mirror, pinning up the troublesome hair of mine, slipping into the folds of the wedding dress. I'd need to find something old, something blue, and something new.
What would we talk about when we met? What was Mr. Cassidy Boone like, anyway? Questions plagued me, and I felt as if I'd be unable to stop my talking when we met. If he was a soldier, would he be gone a lot, or was he out of the service? Had he been injured somehow?
Frustrated with the lack of answers, I learned my head against the window, closing my eyes and trying to drown out my thoughts with the vibration of the glass against my skull as the train rolled onwards. It was doubtful sleep would be able to claim me, but I could at least try to ignore the pounding of questions that throbbed against my ears and eyes, causing the most horrific headache. Oh, how I hated being so impatient.
Finally, the train puffed into the station, and I stood eagerly. Part of me considered curling up under the seats, hiding, finding my way back home to where safety and familiarity would comfort me. But instead, I urged my feet forward, climbing off of the train with the hem of my dress bunched tightly in my hand to hide the shaking.
I saw nobody who looked anything like the picture did, a handsome young man in uniform, twinkling eyes, a ghost of a smile. Around me, families were hugging, shouts were being called out, and couples ran into large hugs and displays of public affection. Could it be my own husband forgotten about me?
An older man, probably nearing his late 50s, came up to me at that moment. At first, I hardly paid a glance, but he stood there observing me so closely, I had to pay attention. His eyes were a bright blue, kind, hidden under bushy brows. They felt... familiar almost, but I shook my head and avoided his look. Surely he wasn't Cassidy Boone, the beautiful soldier. It couldn't be.
"Abigale?" He spoke, so tentatively. It was hard to imagine someone so tall and strong sounding so meek, and I had to look again. Dismay beginning to set in, I said nothing but held his gaze.
"Are you Abigale?" He asked once more, confident this time, a smile starting to tug on his lips. The way he formed the words this time confirmed my fears and I gave a slow nod. Part of me wondered if maybe Cassidy, the real Cassidy, had sent a farm hand or something to fetch me.
Then again, it didn't seem like the gentleman from the letter to miss my arrival. Confusion began to cloud my features, and I held tighter to my bag. Inside, the wedding dress lay carefully folded, crafted with perfection to be worn by me as I married a handsome young man. Not... not this fellow.
"You were so beautiful, I did not realize it was you at first," He answered kindly, offering his hand and gesturing to where a carriage sat by the station. I frowned slightly, not taking his palm.
"Are you my husband?" I asked bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush.
A slight pause, but then he nodded. I stood there, unmoving, my facial expression masked. I didn't want to be rude, but at the same time, disappointment was beginning to fill me. I'd been fooled! Tricked! I'd come all this way, spent so many hours on that hard bench, just to be greeted with a man old enough to my father!
"Get in the carriage. Come home," Cassidy told me, voice firm, authoritative. Still, I hesitated. I thought about turning to get back on the train.
"Now," He commanded, eyebrows raising. His voice wasn't hostile, just sounded like he knew he was in charge.
"I don't think...." I start, but fall into silence. What happens if I go home? My friends would laugh. My family would be disappointed. My reputation will have already been tainted beyond repair. My future was hopeless. "Fine. I'll get in the carriage."
The ride to his farm house was quiet. He may have said a few words, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, staring at the dusty surroundings.
"Are you hungry?" He asked me when we arrived, lighting a candle to illuminate the house as dusk began to set in. I nodded, telling him I was, and sat down at the table. Staring at he, he gave a little chuckle, and grabbed some unappetising bread from the counter. It burnt slightly, and I turned my nose up to.
"Is this all?" I asked, knowing how snobbish it sounded. Cassidy's lips formed a thin line. He was angry, but sat across from me anyway, hands folding together.
"As of tomorrow, you'll begin your wifely duties. I don't have a list or nothin', but I can make one if you need," Cassidy began to explain, his Southern drawl making him at least sound youthful. "Cookin', cleanin', bakin', the flowers out front need tendin' to."
I nodded slowly, dread setting in once more. I knew this was going to happen, but suddenly a life full of nothing but chores for an old man seemed dull in comparison to the carefree, lonely life I led at home.
"And of course, tendin' to me."
My heart skipped a beat. Did he really mean...? "I'm a virigin. I wouldn't know where to begin, I-I'll need you to be slow with me. Gentle. Tender."
Cassidy's eyebrows rose, and he stood, coming around the table to stand behind me. He propped himself up by his hands on the smooth wood of the tabletop. "I don't do gentle, my dear."
Oh, God.... I knew then I should have gotten back on that train immediately. Pushing back the chair, I stood, taking a step back from him. "Well, you'll have to do. Slow and tender. I'm your wife, you have to... to listen."
My bravery faltered, and he noticed, motioning me over to him. "Let me at least kiss you, then."
Though I wasn't sure I was okay with the idea, I stepped him, and let him kiss me. It wasn't my first – I'd been popular in the schoolhouse with the older boys. Cassidy kissed me deeper than they ever had though, and I felt my heart race in the most alluring way. With my eyes closed, he wasn't horrible.
In a swift movement, Cassidy was sitting again, with me bent over his knee. I squealed, but the house was empty, and neighbors were miles away. He pulled my skirts up, exposing my plump, firm ass, and slapping his hand down hard on the tender skin of my ass. I squealed again, kicking my legs up as his hand fell down onto my backside twice more.
"You don't make the rules, sweetheart," Cassidy sighed, allowing me to stand once more. I flew backwards from him, hitting the wall, eyes wide. He stood, walking closer. "Are you afraid?"
The genuine hurt, the concern in his voice... I shook my head no. It was relieving, the flicker of compassion in his eyes.
"Good."
Cassidy smiled, coming in close, fingers slipping past my undergarments and into my panties. I gasped, head leaning back and hitting the faded wallpaper. Instantly, the older man had managed to find my sweetest spot, touching places that had never been given such attention before.
The flick of his fingertips felt better than anything I could have imagined, and I may have fallen to the floor in a heap if his other arm wasn't holding me up. It felt dirty and scandalous and so wrong, our wedding hadn't even happened yet, but I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to, the sensations were taking over. A finger, and then two, slipped past my entrance and into my hole.
This must be what Heaven feels like, I imagined, eyes rolling into the back of my head and my fingers gripping his shirt. I could hardly breathe, it felt so amazing.
"What are you doing to me?" I gasped, weak, my voice quivering as the most pleasant feelin
g began to take over. My knees buckled, my heart stopped, and I slid out from his grasp on accident, hitting the floor. All over, I shook, and vibrations from the pleasure still coursed through me. "W-what just happened?"
Cassidy smiled, looking down on me, putting his fingers into his mouth and sucking off the moisture dripping from them. His hands were dirty, but he didn't seem to mind. I stared at him, wide-eyed.
"There was your slow and gentle," Cassidy answered calmly, removing his hat and placing it on a hook somewhere above my weak figure on the dusty floor. His hand extended out towards me, and this time I took it, coming to a shaky stand with a small laugh.
"Was that so bad?" I teased him lightly, shaking my head to hopefully fix the curls escaping.
"Yes. It was. Tomorrow, I'll make sure your properly broken in," Cassidy answered, heading out of the kitchen and to the front door. "I've got to tend to the horses for the night. Upstairs is your room, I'll take the couch. Get some rest, we rise at 5am."
With that, he was gone, heading out the door with the candle while I stood in the dim lighting, clinging to the table.
____________________________________________
Cassidy wasn't kidding about an early morning. Not even the sun was up yet when he rapped loudly on the door, calling for me and announcing that I'd had an extra ten minutes to lay there and be lazy. Today, my new life started.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I took inventory of the few ingredients he had. Eggs for an omelet with some pig, a little bit of buttermilk on flat cakes. I knew a trick, and sprinkled some brown sugar into a pot with water and milk, creating a thick brown syrup that I poured lightly over the flat cake. Breakfast had been my specialty back home, and I felt as if I owed it to Cassidy, and I selfishly wanted to impress him.
The loud footfalls of his heavy boots on the stairs alerted me to his presence, and I grabbed his plate and chipped drinking glass, setting them on the table and fixing the napkin to look as pretty as possible. Looking down at the dented silverware, I wished I'd had time to give everything a proper cleaning. How long ago since a woman's touch had brightened the dull home?
"This is a little much," Cassidy commented, but a smile was brightening his weathered face. Picking up a small plate of my own, I sat in the same seat I'd sat in the night before, facing him and returning the smile. It was wrong of me, but I was hoping he meant what he said about "breaking me in" would happen sooner rather than later.
"I wanted it to be perfect," I answered carefully, picking up my cup and sipping the milk. "I wanted to thank you."
His eyebrows got all bushy, lowering over his eyes. "Thank me for what, sweetheart?"
My cheeks were flooded with heat. "Um.. To thank you, for, well, for last night."
"Ah," Cassidy answered, putting a bite into his mouth, and I could have sworn I heard amusement in his tone.
"Um.. Mr. Boone?" I cautiously started, not sure what I was to call him.
"Yes, Mrs. Boone," Cassidy replied, and I felt as if he were mocking me. I wasn't sure how I felt, being referred to as such, but gave a polite smile anyway.
"Yes. Right. Anyway, I wanted to know if... well, what happened to her? Your wife? Surely you've been married before."
A silence fell over the table. I regretted my words the moment they left my lips.
"No. Never."
I was surprised at that. He'd never been married yet he knew how to do the things he'd done to me last night? I suppose he was never married because he was too busy practicing! Curious, I thought about pressing more questions onto him, but remembered my place and remained silent for the rest of the meal.
Afterwards, he was gone without a word, a quick kiss to my lips and a small wave were all I received. Disappointed, I began to clean up the dishes, staring out the window distractedly as I scrubbed. My mind couldn't move past the events of the night before. I was surprised, but I couldn't stop thinking of the spanking, how alluring it had been. Of all the things to get me feel so hot and bothered, that was it, and it was hard to even think about the rest of the happenings of the night before without feeling faint.
I couldn't finish the wash at that moment and fell into a chair by the table, laying my head down on my arm. Still my mind was replaying the events slowly, lingering on every touch Cassidy had placed to my body. It was beginning to grow hot and uncomfortable, moisture leaking out once more from between my legs as I obsessed over the thoughts.
Slowly, I began to move my hand towards my pussy, fixing to care for myself in the same way that Cassidy had done hours before. But I stopped before allowing a touch of my finger to indulge myself. I was about to be married, and it wasn't proper to enjoy my body. Not without him, and besides, I likely wouldn't come close to being as good as he. My experience was absolutely none, compared to what I imagine was a rich history of women.
Frustrated, I stood, returning to the sink with a renewed vigor. Were my days to be like this now? To wait for the return of my husband and do trivial tasks with my mind preoccupied with desire and lust? How boring.
I decided to throw myself into my work, and to keep myself motivated with my daydreams. The bedroom upstairs was small, so I started there, getting to work with dusting and scrubbing away the bit of filth that had accumulated. To pass the time, I looked at the bed posts, imagining how Cassidy could press me down into the mattress, kiss my body, bring pleasure over my skin and throw me into convulsions as he had the night before.
As I moved to the hallway, I dusted the pictures, staring at the faces of foreign people. Would I meet them? Would pictures of my own family be put up?
In my minds eye, I pictured Cassidy chasing me up the stairs, slamming into the wall so hard the frames shook, one falling. I closed my eyes, leaning against the wallpaper, breathing in deeply. He'd kiss me then, roughly, pulling at my dress to expose my body to him. Oh, how we'd make the walls quake with our ferocity of lust.
If only I could get over my nerves, which began to peak everytime I imagined what it would be like for Cassidy to actually slide inside of me, stripping me of my virginity. The girls back home would say it hurt, and how they'd bleed.
Finally, I made my way into the kitchen, looking around at the dull dishes. After a bit of searching, I managed to find some polish, and threw open the closet by the door to find some shoes. The next several hours were filled with scrubbing the pots in the sink, shining his nice church shoes, and wiping down each surface and crevice in the kitchen. Never before had I been so dedicated to cleaning, but the thought of Cassidy's skilled fingers kept me wildly entertained and often would I stop to close my eyes and take a quick break, reveling in the magic of my own lustful, sinful imagination.
Perhaps when I became more brave, we would fuck in every room of the modest farmhouse. Perhaps outside, in the stables.
The morning hours slowly dwindled into evening hours, and I had prepared a modest dinner in comparison to the breakfast that morning. A vegetable soup, chicken pie, and softer bread, that wasn't burnt in the slightest, for dinner.
Cassidy opened the door finally, and I had to beg my heart to be still. I prepared the table for him, nudging his shoes out of the walk way when he wasn't looking. It was time to make this place tidier, and I intended to do so within the next few times. I clearly had more than enough time to do so now.
"How was your day?" He asked me politely, digging in to his food. I was pleased he seemed to like what I had prepared, and hid my beaming smile with a bite of my own chicken.
"Not too eventful," I answered carefully, eyeing him from across the table. How mysterious he was, I realized, watching him chew. As a silence fell back onto us, I decided he must be a man of few words, and any conversation would be led by me. "I'm considering making some curtains, if you'd like that. Not that these aren't just lovely, it's just they seem a bit older. You know?"
Cassidy nodded, no words leaving his lips.
"Other than that, this place is beautiful. I looked at the flowers, and I think I can save them. Just
some tender loving care, and we can have a garden by next spring. Would you like that?" I continue to chat, cutting my food nervously before eating it.
"If you would," He answered simply. How could one talk with such a silent man?
"How was yours?"
As he swallowed, Cassidy looked as if he were thinking. It occurred to me it may have been a long time since someone asked how his day was. "One of the horses threw a show. Have to get her to the blacksmith tomorrow in town. It’s going to cost a pretty penny, but I need her for the lumber haul next week."
Silence returned. I had not a clue on how to answer him, as I knew nothing of the work of a ranch owner. At least he was answering me now more, and I made a mental note to spend some time reading up on ranches, or horses, or something that would interest him. "Oh. My. Is she going to be okay?"
"Yeah, she'll be fine with a new shoe. Got spooked or somethin'. You need me to get anything for the house while I'm there?"
I nodded, remembering I had scratched down a quick list. Fishing in my pocket, I paused, looking up at him hopefully. "Actually, Cassidy, can I go with you? Please? Truthfully, I was so bored today. I can't take any more hours stuck in here alone, please let me go."
A chuckle came from him now, and I was surprised. His face always seemed so stoic, it was startling to see emotion cross it. "If you're feeling up to, I suppose that would all right."
"Feeling... up to it?" I questioned, timid suddenly, pushing my hair back from my eyes. I'd left it down that evening.
"I already told you. I'm breaking you in tonight, all proper like." Cassidy took a bite, then a drink, and another bite. Lord, but he ate so slowly.
"When? I'm ready. I'm ready now," I finally blurted, my food left mainly untouched. He raised his eyes up to meet mine.
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