His Passionate Pioneer

by Maggie Ryan

  "I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't think clearly," she said.

  "I'm glad you realize that. Let's just make sure you do take the time to think clearly next time, shall we?"

  "Richard, that's not necessary. I understand and I won't sass again." Since she'd made that same promise several times before, it soon became obvious that her husband was done with simply lecturing. He untied her drawers and pushed them down to her knees and, before she knew it, he had sat down on the barrel and she was dangling over his knees. Before she could get her sense of balance, her hands scrabbling for something to hold onto until she found his leg, he had his finger between her nether cheeks.

  "What are you doing? No, stop it!" she begged, never before having had anyone touch her like that.

  "Oh, yes, little one. When I feel you need a quick reminder to behave, I'm going to push my finger into your little pucker."

  "No, you can't!" Anna begged—then squealed and learned that he could as he began to press his finger into her. "It hurts!" she wailed, shame engulfing her. His arm around her waist tightened, ensuring she would go nowhere until he released her. He continued to press into her virgin back passage until his finger popped past her very tight muscle. She felt she'd die of shame, tears flowing down her cheeks. As he began to pump his finger in and out of her, she trembled and began to sob. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise. Please stop, take it out, it burns, please… you're embarrassing me!" Richard pressed harder into her, causing her to go up onto her toes.

  "I'll decide when to stop or pull out, Annabelle. Are you focusing on me now, young lady? Is my finger pumping in and out of your bottom hole reminding you that you must listen to me? Is having my finger in your arse making you wish to behave?"

  "Yes, sir! Please Richard, I'm sorry I sassed you."

  "You are being reminded not to be naughty, Annabelle. If I have to remind you about your sass or minding me again, I'll paddle this fanny until you can't sit down. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sir," she sobbed, her hands trembling as they clutched his legs. Hearing someone calling from outside the wagon reminded her that people were milling around as they packed up after the morning meal. Her fear that someone would either see or hear her shame came true as she turned to see the back of Mr. Morgan's head. She sobbed harder, more from intense shame than from the ache in her bottom. "Please Richard, please, I'll be good. Please, oh God, please take it out." He pumped his finger into her a few more times and then popped his finger free. Anna sagged over his lap, her bottom stinging and burning from his horrid reminder.

  "Do you think you'll truly remember to hold your sass?" he asked as he lifted her from his lap and pulled her to stand between his legs. "Will you remember to mind what I say?"

  She sobbed. "Yes, sir, I promise I'll be good. I won't talk back again."

  Richard nodded and reached down to pull her drawers back over her bottom, retying the laces into a bow. "See that you don't, because if I have to paddle you for sassing, it won't be just my finger causing your arse to burn."

  Anna lowered her dress and wiped her tears with her hands. She was completely embarrassed by the intimate act, more so than when Richard had taken her virginity and seen her naked on their wedding night. Making love was different. Being naked beside her husband who was also naked felt natural, while this, being half bared while her husband probed her-her… back there, was totally humiliating. She blushed hotly when she heard him assuring Mr. Morgan that they'd be ready to go in less than five minutes. Though she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and hide, she accepted every item Richard passed to her and quickly put it in its proper place.

  He lifted her from the wagon only to lift her again onto the wagon seat. He took his seat and released the brake. As he snapped the reins, the brand he'd chosen for his oxen caught her eye. Though the man had just given her the most embarrassing punishment she'd ever have been able to imagine, seeing the rose reminded her that he loved her.

  "I'm really sorry, Richard. I promise to do better. Please don't be mad at me."

  He reached out and pulled her to his side. "I'm not mad, little one. I was just very disappointed and upset when you continued to sass. But, Anna, it's over. Once I've punished you, you are forgiven."

  "I love you, husband," she said, laying her head against his arm. Determination to do better filled her as his response filled her heart.

  "I love you, wife."

  Chapter Nine

  After a week, things began to settle into a routine, one that began every morning with Anna packing the wagon as quickly as possible so that they would not be late. She'd been on her very best behavior since that horrid morning days earlier. Though she loved spending her days with Richard, the monotony of the routine began to wear on her spirit. Cooking each meal alone soon became boring as well.

  One evening, after a full day's travel, the wagons had been pulled into position and Richard had taken the oxen to be watered and staked out for the night. Anna was speaking with some of her new friends around the camping fires. "I'm tired of doing all this work, every day the same thing. At the very least I need to learn some different ways to cook," she said.

  Harriet, a much older lady, spoke with a grin. "I'd be glad to teach you, honey. In fact, why don't you and your husband come over tonight and eat with us?" Anna's face lit up and she quickly agreed. Charity and some of the other ladies were soon discussing a pot luck dinner and everyone agreed to bring something and share their evening meal. This soon became a habit and eased the strain of cooking the entire meal themselves. The men and children enjoyed it as well. Sharing their evenings reinforced the extended family concept of the train. After the meal had been shared, the adults would sit around and talk about the miles covered as well as the miles ahead. The women would sit together and do mending while the children ran around and played until their parents told them to settle down. Some evenings, harmonicas were played and there would be dancing. Anna had pointed it out to Richard the first time she saw Wyatt dancing with a pretty brunette. Richard had grinned and pulled her to her feet, leading her around in a circle as they joined a square dance.

  Anna remembered being surprised the first time a boy of about six was told to stop playing so rough. The boy ran off and, within moments, had pushed a smaller little girl down. As the girl wailed, more shocked than hurt, the boy's father stood up and called for the boy. The boy slowly walked to his father, who took his hand and led him to their wagon. Within minutes, the boy's shouts and wails could be heard above the conversation. Anna thought about how embarrassed the boy must be, knowing his spanking had been heard by several others. What she hadn't expected was to see him returning, rubbing both hands against his backside and making his apology to not only the girl, but to everyone gathered there. Once done, he'd glanced up at his Pa, who nodded and tousled his hair. Grinning, the boy immediately ran off to join his friends, the smaller girl eagerly following.

  Anna looked over at her husband and saw Richard grinning at her. She felt her face flush and had to lower her gaze. She turned around and saw Harriet watching her.

  "Don't you fret yourself, honey. That George is always getting into trouble. He certainly is a handful for his Ma and Pa. Getting a spanking is good for him and will help him remember to be a good boy—well, at least for a bit. I'm sure we'll see many of these young hooligans getting their bottoms smacked. It's a long way to Oregon, and I've never experienced a young'un able to be good that long."

  Anna nodded and relaxed. That evening, she had looked up at the paddle and strap still hanging on their hooks, grateful that Richard hadn't had cause to remove either one to use on her own rear. She snuggled into her husband's side and he drew her close.

  "Thinking about that boy's bottom?" he asked, his smile evident in his voice.

  She flushed, grateful it was dark in the wagon. "I'm just feeling sorry for him. I bet he was so embarrassed."

  Richard chuckled. "I'm sure he was much more upset at having been pulled a
way from his play. Anna, you know children get spanked, and you'll learn that naughty wives do as well."

  With a daring that came from desire, she sat up and leaned over her husband's prone form. "And, pray tell, what happens to very good wives?"

  She discovered the answer when Richard easily pushed her onto her back and began to slowly move down her body. His lips nuzzled, nipped and kissed every inch of her skin. When he began to suckle on her breasts, she moaned, her sex dampening as bolts of lightning shot through her.

  "I love your breasts," he said softly as he moved slightly in order to give her other breast the same loving attention. His fingers stroked down the side of the plump mound and across her taut nipple. "I could suckle on your nipples all day long. They are like the ripest, juiciest strawberries I've ever tasted."

  Her body flushed at his words and her hand moved to the back of his head, her fingers stroking through the thick black strands of hair, pressing him tighter against her breast. She felt his knee nudge her thigh, indicating he wished her to spread herself for him. Shyly opening her legs, she gasped when he released her nipple to begin kissing down her stomach until he was looking up at her from between her spread legs.

  "Richard!" she hissed, her eyes darting to the wagon flap as if expecting to see a crowd of spectators. "What… ohh, oh, God." Any protests instantly died when he began to draw his tongue through her sex. It was a sensation she had never imagined experiencing.

  She arched and moaned as he began to lap at her core, licking her gently and then burying his tongue deep inside her. Anna was shocked and yet her body was loving every caress of his tongue, every kiss of his lips and every nip of his teeth. Olivia had never said one word about this, and she wondered if her cousin even knew how incredible it felt. She pushed the thought of anyone else aside as Richard slowly but deliberately licked her all over her center. Reaching down to grab his hair was met with his stopping the wonderful loving as he looked up her body.

  "Hands," he said simply. She moaned but raised her arms above her head. He'd told her he loved it when she had to simply feel, to accept whatever pleasure he wished to give her. Though she often ran her hands over his skin or her fingers through his hair, or simply clung to his shoulders as he made love to her, she'd discovered great satisfaction in being forbidden to touch. The order had her focusing on nothing more than what her husband was doing to her body.

  Richard put his hands under her knees, draping them over his shoulders as he slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her to his mouth. Anna gasped at the sheer bliss he was giving her as his mouth and teeth closed over her throbbing clitoris. She couldn't help but buck as he gently bit her, squealing as he pinched her bottom.

  "Be still," he ordered, and she truly tried to obey. She moaned and pressed her lips together, trying to be quiet as he loved her. When she climaxed, though, she cried out with the intensity of her orgasm. Richard smiled as he lapped up her juices and then lifted his hips into position. He drove into her with one stroke and she cried out again. As he plowed into her depths again and again, she felt the wagon shake. She no longer cared, this was her husband loving her and she loved every single minute of it.

  He stayed deep inside as he sat back and pulled his wife up, her knees on either side of his lap, her cunny against his groin. Leaning against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, both of them breathing hard. She was getting accustomed to his use of her but still felt amazed at the new things he was teaching her. "Ride my cock, Anna, ride me well," he said.

  She blushed but nodded. He moved her arms behind her and held her wrists as she began to move up and down his thickening shaft. At her moan, he covered her mouth with his as she rode him. He bent her back further, raising her breasts to his mouth and took each nipple again and again, rolling the swollen buds between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. As she slid up and down his thick cock, he began to push hard into her, and she felt her body tensing. Anna threw her head back and moaned and, when he bit down on her nipple, she exploded, screaming her climax, her entire body convulsing as he held her tight, controlling her movements. He pounded harder into her and the intense contractions of her warm, tight cunny around his cock allowed him to join her as he spilled himself deep inside her.

  As they came down from their passion, he gently laid her down and then lay beside her. The wagon was hot and steamy from their efforts and they both lay naked on top of the thin mattress, neither desiring the heavy covers. Anna felt totally alive and very feminine as she felt the air brushing over her heated body. Richard pulled her tight into him, spooning her bottom to his front, his cock finally slipping from her body. He pressed his lips to her shoulder.

  "I love the way you ride, wife," he teased. She moaned as he ran his hand over her breasts, whispering that she loved him as well. He kissed her again and then pulled the covers over them. They slept well, secure in their love for each other.

  Anna discovered fairly quickly that rocking wagons were a common fact of life.

  * * * * *

  "This is truly incredible," Anna said as she stood on top of a small rise. Charity stood beside her, with Hope on her hip. "I never imagined how hard it is to keep everything under control."

  The two women watched as men on horseback whistled and called, lariats at the ready to snag any cow or steer in trouble as they made their first river crossing. The wagons had crossed first; Anna clinging to the edge of the wagon seat, her heart in her throat. She'd much rather have clung to her husband, but he needed to keep his concentration on guiding their wagon across the river, following in the previous wagon's wake. They'd been at the river for two days now, and it would take the rest of the day to get the cattle across and driven ahead so they could recover from the crossing and graze.

  "Oh, look." Charity pointed downstream and Anna turned to see a younger calf struggling against the current. From where they stood, the distance was too far to distinguish any brand but both women held their breath, praying it was not one of Richard's. The men's skill was proven yet again as a perfectly thrown rope dropped over the cow's neck. Anna did recognize the cowboy.

  "That's Richard!" They watched as Wyatt rode over to help get the cow moving back in the proper direction. The water had been clear when the members of the train had first seen it. Now it was a muddy brown, sediment churned up from the bottom by both wagon wheels and the hundreds of hooves struggling to find purchase.

  The women watched a bit longer until Charity suggested they get supper started. Anna knew that Richard and all the men would be exhausted, and had volunteered to prepare a meal for his hands that evening. Charity had quickly offered to help.

  "How about you do the biscuits and I'll start the stew?" she suggested, only to hear Charity giggle.

  "You do know that the only way to learn to cook something new is to actually cook it, right?"

  "Yes, but even though I'm willing to test out my culinary skills on poor Richard, the other men don't love me as he does. I swear, I'm beginning to think the man has an iron stomach."

  Anna did cook, but she did because it was necessary to sustain herself and her husband. Charity and some of the other women were far more skilled, and seemed to enjoy preparing a wide variety of meals.

  "Come on, I'll help you with the rabbit and we'll both do the biscuits. And, as a special treat, we can use the last of those blackberries and make a cobbler," Charity said.

  They held hands as they navigated the slope of the rise and walked to where the wagons had been positioned. After placing the baby in her basket, the new friends laughed and chatted as they worked together.

  "That was very tasty, ma'am," Matt offered as he tipped his hat to Anna. "Those biscuits were light as a feather, and that cobbler was one of the best I've ever eaten."

  Anna smiled. "I think the fresh butter helped to disguise the biscuit's flaws, but thank you." She had been amazed to learn that butter could be made by simply hanging a pail of milk from the struts under the wagon. With all the bouncing, sway
ing and jostling of the wagon throughout the day, by the time they stopped, the butter had churned itself. "As for the cobbler, you can thank Charity for that. She's a great cook, as well as a great teacher," she added graciously.

  The men had indeed been exhausted but, given time to catch their breath and fill their stomachs, they had been able to relax and enjoy cups of coffee and blackberry cobbler. When Wyatt pulled out a harmonica and began to play, their group drew more people until several others were playing along, two guitars joining the impromptu concert. Anna smiled when she saw Agatha move to sit on the ground in front of Wyatt. If she were to make a prediction, it was that Wyatt was soon to be a married man.

  "Having fun?" Richard asked, bending down to speak into her ear. She turned to look up at him from her place on his lap.

  "Yes. I still can't believe nobody got hurt and not a single cow was lost, but I am truly grateful."

  "We all are," he agreed. "I'm just grateful the first crossing was an easy one. At least it gave people an idea of what to expect when the more difficult crossings need to be made."

  Anna nodded but her heart was pounding a bit. She'd been quite terrified until their wagon had safely climbed the bank. The water surging around the wagon, the oxen bawling as they strained against their harnesses, had been frightening—the look of absolute concentration on Richard's face, the vein pulsing along his jaw had her terrified. Every day was teaching her that while she had cooking, washing, cleaning and mending to do, none of her chores or responsibilities were matters of life and death.

  "Thank you," she whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

  "For what?"

  "For everything. I love you so very much." She watched his eyes soften, the last of the day's tension draining from his face.

  "Ah, little one, I love you more. Come, I believe it's time for my wife's sweet voice to join the concert."