Cowboy
By
It was late. Rose shifted sleepily against the warm bulk of Mac’s chest, not quite asleep, but not awake either, somewhere in the happy limbo of passive awareness. She sighed.
“I thought you’d dropped off—we lost the Alamo by the way—“ Mac rumbled into her hair playfully. The two of them lay entwined on the sofa as the soft glow of the television screen washed over their pajamas. The faint sounds of battle echoed around the room.
“Again? Dang! You’d think Jim Bowie would catch a clue this time around,” Rose muttered sleepily, making Mac laugh.
“You’d think. I love this movie though—“
The woman in his arms snorted, burrowing closer.
“You love WESTERNS, Mac. Horses, cowboys, saloon girls—“
He gave an appreciative groan, and his hands slid down Rose’s back to cup her flannel covered bottom.
“—Oh yeah. I DO tend to like those.”
“Those as in my butt or those as in saloon girls?”
“Both,” he answered honestly and promptly, making her squirm a little. The friction was pleasantly sensual, and with a bit more wriggling Rose found herself slightly breathless. Mac pointed the remote at the set and turned it off, leaving them in the dark.
“Hey!”
“I know how it ends, remember? They ride off into the sunset—“
“—Straight to the whorehouse,” Rose giggled, kissing Mac’s neck. He tried to hide his laugh with a growl.
“Hey, hey I’m the one with the lusty Old West fantasies here, not you—“
“Really?” Her tone was unexpectedly mild; Mac felt a blush move up his face even though neither of them could see it in the dark. He drew in a breath.
“Well sure—part of the whole appeal you know—getting in touch with a much baser side of my nature,” he mumbled. Rose made purring, encouraging sounds.
“So you like the idea of unshaven and slightly uncivilized kind of fun? The hot sweaty cowboy flirting with the saucy saloon girl?”
“Flirting?” he blurted indignantly, arms tightening around the warm body on his. Rose shifted until her mouth was at his ear.
“Dancing?” she teased. Mac shook his head, his voice dropping into a low whisper.
“Didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you,” came his embarrassed reply, “--but no. I’m picturing the hot sweaty cowboy relentlessly screwing the saloon girl with enough passion to make the damn bedsprings creak all with way downstairs.”
She gave a soft giggle.
“Mac I never knew! I thought your fantasies were all about hockey in the nude—“
“Yeah, well a guy can only take so much ice you know—“ He replied defensively as Rose warmly nibbled his ear. His hands squeezed her rump and she gave a gasp.
“Okay, okay! If you want, maybe someday your cowboy will GET a chance to ride into town and ride his girl—“
“Ohhhh. That would be—“ Mac sighed as Rose kissed the corner of his mouth.
“—Naughty!” she finished with a knowing giggle.
*** *** ***
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Pete Thornton looked around with complete satisfaction. The fact that he was dressed as a man of commerce circa 1870 did nothing to faze him; he pulled his gold pocket watch from his vest pocket and checked the time.
“We’ve got an hour until the Living History exhibit ends, Helen—want to take the tour?”
“Love to,” his companion beamed. She took his proffered arm, smiling at him; Pete patted her fingers, admiring her burgundy hoopskirts and lace-trimmed bonnet.
“Old West is a good look for you—“ he teased. She rolled her eyes, blushing all the same.
“Could say the same about you Mayor Thornton,” came her soft reply as they sauntered down the wooden sidewalk outside the livery stable. They peeked into the open barn along with the rest of the tour group.
The docent, a young Asian American man dressed as a Chinese Coolie, had the microphone and was talking to the crowd of tourists.
“Welcome to Oak Creek’s Livery stable. This is Nathan Shea, a typical cowboy of the period—“
Seated on a bale of hay, MacGyver waved a hand briefly at the watching group and went back to the work of oiling the bridle in his hands. The docent continued.
“Nathan is taking care of his harness before storing it away. As an independent cowboy for hire, it was essential that he safeguard his personal property and maintain it in good condition. He’s wearing a wool shirt, suspenders, and the earliest version of Levi Strauss’s canvas pants, made of demin, covered by chaps. His boots are former cavalry or army wear since he’s probably a veteran of the Civil War.”
“Which side?” Someone from the crowd demanded. MacGyver grinned. His long hair was slightly tangled, and the huge handlebar mustache he wore twitched slightly.
“Can’t rightly remember—had to be one of the two—“ he drawled, bringing a laugh from everyone. The docent chuckled.
“The west was where men went to forget the past and claim the future. Nathan, and thousands of men like him often turned up here in an effort to better themselves. The money made in ranching and cattle drives was good, but the hazards they faced were equally formidable. After Nathan here faced hostile Indians, floods, stampedes and rival ranchers, he’d come to town and spend his pay, usually in the course of a few days. Have a meal, bath and shave, visit the saloon—“
“—Visit the women—“ another voice in the crowd called out good-naturedly. Mac waggled his expressive eyebrows, drawing another laugh. The docent blushed a little.
“—Of course. But the price for civilized comforts ran high, and there’s a good chance that Mr. Shea here isn’t going to be riding out of the town of Oak Creek with anything more than a hangover and memories.”
“Yeah, but they’ll be mighty sweet memories—“ Mac shook an oily finger at the coolie. Pete and Helen stayed behind as the crowd moved on towards the Mercantile. Mac and the docent exchanged shoulder swats.
“—Nice recovery, Hudson!”
“It’s been like that all day, Mac. You’d think I’d get used to the prurient interest of the average tourist. Oh hey Mr. Thornton!”
“Hey Hudson, Mac—looks like you two have this Living History thing mastered!” Pete smiled. Mac glanced down at his cattle duster and brushed it lightly. Helen reached up to touch his thick handlebar mustache.
“Fake?”
“Yeah—growing one like this would take me at least a year—but it’s glued on tight. You could even tug it and it won’t come off—“ he grinned. Helen dimpled a smile.
“Pretty soft—“
“Jest the pomade, Ma’am—“ Mac teased. Pete cleared his throat.
“Mac, if I could talk to you a minute—“
“Sure Pete—“
They stepped off to the side of the livery stable. Pete sighed.
“I have a big favor to ask of you. It looks like the security guard isn’t going to make it up here tonight.”
“Does Claire know?” Mac asked politely tipping his hat to a passing family with cameras. They smiled at him. Pete waved at the toddler in the stroller.
“She does, but it’s too late in the day to get someone else up here, and she’s concerned. Do you think you and Barnum could camp out tonight?”
Mac looked over at Pete and chuckled happily.
“Oh I think you could talk me into it. Rose and I have our stuff in the Jeep, and I know Barnum loves having the run of the place.”
“Yeah. Claire’s got the keys for the main gate, and a quick list of instructions, but it’s pretty much a cakewalk—the whole place is fenced in, and there isn’t anything here valuable enough to steal.”
They strode up the street heading to the Post Office, stepping into it. A short little woman in a long grey skirt and starched blouse bobbed up to them.
“Mac! Has Pete filled you in on our little emergency?” she demanded softly. He nodded, taking his hat off and holding it in his hands as he looked at her.
“Got no security guard?”
“He was in a car accident—nothing serious, but he’s in a cast and certainly in no shape to come all the way up the mountain tonight. Can you stay the night in Oak Creek?”
“I’d love to,” he admitted with a grin. Claire gave a huge sigh of relief, and rubbed her eyes under her wire rim glasses.
“Thank you! You and Rose can have the saloon to yourselves since it’s the most equipped building—phones, bathrooms—and I’ll have dinner sent up so you won’t go hungry either. We’re locking up in about two hours and I still have a million things to do, but you’re a real lifesaver this time, MacGyver!” Claire told him with a pat on his forearm.
“Glad to help—this place is great!”
“Yeah, Mac adores playing cowboy,” Pete replied with an indulgent smile.
Over in the Saloon, Rose unloaded a tray of root beers and smiled at the family
sipping them.
“Genuine stuff!” she beamed. The teenage boy was staring at her and blushing; she winked at him. The father was hiding a grin.
“I thought you’d have rotgut whisky and sour mash here,” he commented, sipping the dark cold drink.
“We do, but Oak Creek has no liquor license, so we can’t officially serve it—“ Rose told him with a mock sigh. The teenager burped and turned red. Rose giggled.
“Nice one, partner, but I can do better—“
“You’re kidding—“ the boy scoffed, still pink.
Rose took his drink and tipped it down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled.
She belched, a long, loud rolling burp that sounded as if she were hollow. Everyone in the saloon paused at the sound, and then the wave of laughter rang out. The boy was in tears, wheezing as his father shook too.
“Oh my GOD, Miss—that was INCREDIBLE!”
“It’s a talent—“ she admitted modestly, looking up as Mac stood in the doorway, laughing.
“Found me the gal of my dreams!” he hooted loudly, making his way over to the table. Rose smiled at him.
“Hello Handsome!”
“Howdy Miss—can we talk for a moment?” he asked. The boy and his father had taken their root beers and were heading for a closer look at the player piano, so Rose motioned for Mac to lean over the bar. He swiftly explained the situation.
“So I have to stay. If you want to go back to the motel that’s fine, of course—“
“No way! I’m sticking with you here. Is that all right?”
Mac looked at her for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her. Rose wore a bottle green velvet can can dress with layers of black crinolines under it filling it out. Although the dress was modestly mid-calf length, the top bared her arms and shoulders, and the low neckline showcased her cleavage delightfully. Her red hair had been braided and wrapped around her head, then decorated with black ribbons. Her stockings were black, and she wore high button boots.
“Oh that would be just fine with me, Missy—“ he drawled. Rose caught the hungry look in his roguish brown eyes. She cocked her head, letting her gaze answer his.
Question asked and answered.
“So it would,” Rose sighed sweetly. “Tell me, were you looking for a little—company--tonight?”
“Indeed I am, indeed I am.”
*** *** ***
The sun was just going down over the tops of the trees. Mac locked the gate and gave Barnum a quick pat on the head.
“Let’s head back and see if the rest of the town’s secure, Barn.”
The dog chuffed, and obediently followed Mac up through the center of the pioneer town. MacGyver checked each door carefully before stepping over to the brightly lit saloon. The player piano was playing a lighthearted tune as he pushed through the swinging double doors and looked around.
“Rose?” he called out hesitantly. She straightened up from behind the bar and flashed him a smile.
“Sorry stranger, nobody working here by that name. Can I help you?” she called out across the room to him, her tone low and sweet. Mac paused. He felt a smile cross his mouth and sauntered over.
“Oh I suspect you can. Just got in with a pocket full of gold and a few itches to scratch—“ he replied, pulling his hat off and tossing it on the bar. Rose poured him a shot glass and passed it to him.
“Well the Serenity Saloon is the right place to take care of all those, Mister--?”
“—Shea. Nathan Shea from Missouri,” he replied, gulping down the drink. It burned, and for a moment, Mac coughed a little, aware of Rose stifling a giggle. She poured herself one and sipped it neatly.
“You’re a long way from home, Mister Shea—“ she purred. He stared at her hungrily.
“Oh just call me Nathan, Miss--?”
“—Emma,” she replied. For a moment they looked at each other, gauging the mood, the moment.
“You’re mighty pretty, Miss Emma,” He observed. She lowered her lashes.
“So I’ve been told,” she murmured demurely. Mac let his gaze travel from her face to her body, staring blatantly. Rose shivered; Mac was always polite and respectful. Nathan obviously was not.
“I need a dinner, a bath and a bed,” he announced, mustache twitching, “But it doesn’t have to be in that order. What do you suggest Miss Emma?”
“Cook’s got some stew going that will take the edge off your appetite,” she offered carefully, leaning forward and letting her cleavage deepen. Mac licked his lower lip.
“Stew’s fine. And the rest of it?”
“Mrs. Brooke runs the rooms upstairs. Two dollars for a bath and a bed, another five if you want company for an hour,” Rose replied, fondling her shot glass. Mac flashed a roguish grin at her.
“Oh an hour’s not enough for what I need, darling. Supposing I want company through the night?”
“Mrs. Brooke makes us charge more for that, Mr. Nathan. She loses money on customers with requests like that you know—“
He leaned close, sliding his hand up over hers around her glass, the heat of his palm a contrast to the cool glass.
“I’ve got enough gold to keep her off my back and you on yours until dawn, Miss Emma,” he purred at her, his gaze hot and direct. Rose felt the roll of heat rise through her face. She swallowed hard, and Mac gave a masculine chuckle.
“Fifty dollars in gold, cash. Mrs. Brooke can’t argue when it’s in her hand,” he looked smug. Rose poured another shot of the sour mash into HIS glass.
“Sainted Jesus! For that kind of money you could have every girl in the house!”
Mac threw back his shot of whisky, letting it burn down his gullet before clapping his glass down on the bar.
“I’d rather spend it on quality than quantity, Miss Emma. Like handling mares—I’d druther break one spirited beauty in to my command than tackle a whole stable of ‘em. Makes the riding that much sweeter.”
Rose blinked, feeling his rough grip caressing the back of her hand. He hadn’t let go, and she felt his fingers tighten on hers.
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Nathan Shea?” her voice trembled. He nodded and let his thumb stroke the back of her hand.
“Lemme go settle up with the madam, and then I’ll take a bowl of that stew. You ought to eat too, Miss Emma. Gonna need your strength.”
So saying, Mac winked at her and strode off towards the saloon kitchen, smiling at her gasp behind him.
The stew was a vegetarian ratatouille, fragrant and steaming. Mac took the proffered
bowl with a smile, then ripped open a hot roll and dipped it into the soup.
Rose watched him from the other side of the table, fascinated by his total lack
of manners. He glanced up at her.
“Eat up, it’s good-“
“Don’t you want a spoon?” she asked softly. He shook his head, tangled hair swaying, then picked up the bowl and tipped it into his mouth, wetting his moustache. Rose sighed.
She ate daintily, managing small mouthfuls and neatly buttering her roll as her companion rattled on.
“—Ornery sons of a bitches, but we got them to market in time for the spring rush. I’m making my way back to Arizona before the next drive. Got my eye on a sweet little claim my sister’s husband left me after he died of measles. Ever been to Arizona?”
“No,” Rose lied easily, nibbling one of the rolls, “This is as far west as I plan on being. Didn’t plan on being here either, but that’s another story. You want more?”
“Surely do,” he nodded, wiping his hand over the back of his mouth. Rose reached out to help him, fingers brushing over his scratchy cheek. He sighed.
“Heard about your kin from Mrs. Brooke, and I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Emma. It’s hard to lose them all—“ he prompted. Rose thought quickly.
“Oh yes—Mrs. Brooke looks out for me—she’s very careful about my gentlemen,” Rose blushed again. It was fun to tiptoe around in someone else’s life, to play games with Mac. From the expression he wore, he was enjoying it hugely too.
“So I found out—don’t matter to me though, I’m patient. Once I get under that skirt of yours I can take my time getting my fill.”
“Nathan!”
“Miss Emma?” he grinned back, teeth very white against his tanned face. She shot him a severe look.
“You are quite the rascal, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been called that and worse in my time, darlin. Any dessert on the menu? Besides you that is—“
“Ahem! I believe cook’s made some molasses cake with frosting. I’ll bring you up a plate while you take that bath you so desperately need—“ she replied as she picked up the dishes from the table. Mac watched the sweet sway of her ass as she sauntered away from him and grinned broadly.
He locked up the downstairs of the saloon, leaving the back door slightly ajar for Barnum. The big dog was enough of a presence to keep any animals from getting near the door. Mac headed up the stairs, thinking about the tightness in his lower stomach, the hot ache of arousal in his system. Rose looked and acted the part so damned well. He adored the way she played off of him, the way she threw herself into it wholeheartedly. Trusting Rose with his fantasy had been a big step, but seeing her act it out with him was truly a mindblower. MacGyver quickened his step up to the landing, hearing the sound of running water.
“Nathan?” she called playfully. He pounded up the last few steps to the long hall. Rose lounged in the doorway of the first bedroom, shaking her head.
“Come here Mr. Shea and get the dust of the trail off of you—“ she called to him. Mac took three steps and yanked her to him, letting her slam against his chest.
“In a minute, gal—need a kiss first—“ he insisted. Rose looked up at him breathlessly.
“I suppose that would be . . . fine . . . “ she murmured, slightly dazed as her lips drifted up to his. Mac dropped a kiss onto her mouth, slick tongue caressing the seam of her lips, parting their heated softness to slide in. She started, jerking against him and moaning.
“Mmmmmmmmph!” she protested, small fists pounding his shoulders. Mac broke off
and laughed.
“Mr. Nathan, please! There’s a time and a place for a kiss like THAT,” Rose gasped, slightly dizzy. He cupped her face.
“Now’s a real good time, Miss Emma, and let me tell you there are lots of places for a kiss like that.”
“We have a bed you know—“ she tried to object, but he shook his head, long hair falling over his shoulders.
“I’m thinkin’ bout places on you, darlin. That pretty mouth is just a good starting place.”
“Oh,” she squeaked, caught in his hot gaze. He lightly rugged his nose along her cheek, speaking against her mouth.
“Got those big round tits in mind, and that smooth neck of yours. Bet you’ve got a belly like silk, Emma and the sweetest wettest pussy—“ he growled, drinking in the soft scent of her skin.
Rose’s eyes were as wide as saucers; she trembled against Mac, body rocking against his in the doorway. He kissed her face, beard stubble lightly scraping her skin, savoring the feel of her weight stroking against his erection. Rose shivered at the soft brush of his moustache and gave a soft sigh.
“Nathan, talking like that’s not nice—“ she chided, her hands gripping the front of his shirt.
“Nope. But it’s the truth, Miss Emma. I want to kiss you everywhere under your skirt ‘cause I am randy as fuck ALL right now. Here—“ he grabbed her hand and ran it firmly down the hard ridge at his crotch, forcing her small fingers to caress him through the denim. Rose shuddered again.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph! That’s never going in ME!” she hissed, perplexed. Mac groaned; Rose instinctively knew just how to drive him insane.
“Oh yes it is, Buttercup, trust me,” he gasped before plunging into her mouth again, his thick moustache brushing her face. Pliantly Rose opened her lips, sucking lightly on his tongue as she shifted to straddle his long thigh. Mac took his time plundering her mouth, tasting her flavors, stroking her back with his big hands. The front of her right thigh was sliding against his stiff shaft in a teasing stroke.
“Ohh you flirt, you—“ he accused with a laugh. Rose gasped happily.
“Just want you to get your money’s worth, Mr. Nathan,” she purred, pulling away. “Now climb into the tub, cowboy, before the water gets cold—“
“Come help me then, Miss Emma,” he countered, taking her hands and bringing them up to his chest, “I’m lousy with buttons.”
She shook her head, but let her fingers lightly undo the bone buttons one at a time as Mac shrugged out of his duster and slipped his suspenders off his broad shoulders. Slowly he pulled the wool shirt off. Rose looked at his bare chest and sighed. She brushed his hair back and untied the bandana from his neck; he tossed it on the bed.
“Boots,” he ordered playfully, “I can get them on, but it takes two people to get them off—unless you want me to wear them to bed—“ his hopeful expression made Rose snort. She shook her head.
“Spurs are hell on the sheets, Mr. Nathan. Besides, you’re bathing first,” she insisted firmly. She knelt down and gripped his right boot around the heel and gave a yank. Mac watched her fall back on her rump, boot in hand and laughed.
“Good thing you got a right pert little tuffet to land on, darlin,” he chuckled. Rose shot him a sour look, but moved to the other boot, being careful NOT to fall this time as she pulled it off and tucked it under the bed behind her. Mac reached for the buttons on his fly.
“Think I might need help with these too—“ he rumbled. Rose straightened up and pressed up against Mac, hands reaching to curl around his.
“My, my, Mr. Nathan, why EVER are your britches so tight? I’ve got to WORK to get these buttons undone—“ she teased, her fingertips stroking the heated velvet of his cock through the gaps between the buttons. Mac shivered, mouth nuzzling hers as he bit back a moan.
“—Oh I think you’ve got a FEEL for it, Miss Emma,” he gasped as Rose managed to undo the buttons and rub her palms against the hot suede length of his cock. For a hot wild moment she stroked him, hard and impatient in her hands while he watched.
“Mmmmmmmmmmohhh Jesus!” Reluctantly Mac gripped her hands, stilling them. Rose breathed up into his face, her cheeks flushed.
“Like that?”
“Oh damn, yeah, I do, but we’ve got all night to play. Don’t want to splash on that pretty dress of yours,” he sighed. Rose dimpled at him and stepped away, grateful for a chance to catch her breath.
The whole thing was more fun than she thought it would be, Rose mused to herself as she stepped into the water closet and checked the bathwater. Mac was obviously loving it, and playing a floozy had a secret erotic appeal of it’s own to her. She giggled. The tub was a claw-footed monstrosity standing in the middle of a small tiled room. She checked the water and looked up as Mac stood in the doorway, a striped towel around his hips, barely covering his erection.
“Only for you Miss Emma,” he pretended to grumble, stepping into the room. Rose shook her head at him.
“Get in, Mr. Nathan,” she ordered with a smile.
The bath was more enjoyable than any MacGyver had had in a long time; he let Rose scrub his shoulders and wash his hair, making soothing comments the entire time. Once or twice he caught her eye and knew she was playing her part with perfect aplomb.
“I knew there was a gentleman somewhere under all that dust and sweat—“ she pretended to grumble. He snorted.
“A gentleman I am NOT, Miss Emma,” Mac replied firmly, reaching for the towel as he clambered out. Rose pulled the plug and dried her hands. She noticed Mac had unpacked a few of their toiletries, so she brushed her teeth quickly.
When she stepped back into the bedroom, Mac had lit the kerosene lamps on the bedside tables, and the room was bathed in their soft glow. He still wore the towel and was sprawled in the chair in the corner, watching her.
“You—“ he accused, “Are overdressed, Miss Emma. I think you ought to change that.”
Rose shifted a hip, shooting him a flirty look as she reached behind her and began unhooking her dress. She artistically slid it off her shoulders and let it drop to her hips with a little shimmy. By the way he drew in a sharp breath she knew Mac was certainly appreciating the show. She sighed, kicking the dress away.
“Better?” Rose ran her hands down the whalebone corset that molded her hourglass figure and supported her bust. Mac shifted forward, brown eyes dark and hot.
“Come here—“ he rasped, reaching out for her. She stepped closer, letting him rest his hands on her hips. He stroked the soft as butter cotton drawers she wore, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin cloth. Mac tightened his grip, and Rose dropped her hands on his bare shoulders.
“*One* more thing, pretty gal—“ he sighed, standing up, sliding his body up against hers. She looked up into his face, eyes half-closed, giddy with desire, drinking in his heat, his nearness.
Mac reached for her hair. Slowly he pulled the pins from it, setting them on the nightstand. With deliberate care he unwound the coil of Rose’s hair and unbraided it, letting it fall loose and slightly rippled across her bare shoulders and back. She shook her head, letting it spill out.
“Oh Miss Emma, you are a beauty—“ Mac sighed, dropping his mouth on hers. Rose felt the brush of the mustache against her and squirmed. Mac slid his hands around to cup her ass and grind up against her with shocking directness.
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” she gurgled as they broke off the kiss. Mac stepped forward, forcing Rose to back up until she bumped against the bed; she toppled backwards on it with a squeak. Mac loomed over her, long hair damp and tangled, unshaven and heavily mustached.
“Let’s see what’s under them fancy drawers of yours, Missy—“ he drawled. Rose shivered. Slowly, Mac reached out a big hand and rubbed the rounded rise of her mound between her legs, making her wriggle.
“Mr. Nathan—“ Rose pleaded, trying to catch his wrist. He frowned at her, shaking his head, water drops flying. He kept up the soft stroking up her thighs.
“Tush, Emma—“ he untied the strings holding the flap closed and peeled it down, revealing the soft damp auburn curls of her sex. Rose squirmed again, but Mac sighed.
“Ain’t that pretty?” came his pleased rumble. Rose glanced down her body, quivering as his hand slid up and stroked the soft fur. She tried to bring her legs together but Mac had shifted between them, reaching up across the bedspread for something.
“Settle down, sugar,” Mac caught her wrists, kissing them briefly and bringing them together up over her head. With a swift loop, he wrapped the red bandana around her wrists, tying it tightly. Rose glanced up, eyes wide and questioning, but Mac held her gaze reassuringly until she relaxed. He pinned her hands on the bed over her head, and then stretched on top her. Hot warm contact made both of them groan appreciatively. Rose felt his cock throb against her hip.
“Ever watch a stallion cover a mare?” he asked intently, planting kisses down the side of her neck. The tickle of his mustache made Rose arch up.
“N-n-no—“ she gasped. He laughed softly in her ear, then kissed his way up the slope of her breast, his hair tickling unmercifully.
“It’s a powerful sorta courtship. He herds her, Miss Emma, and nuzzles her face and ears. When she’s quieted down and knows he means business, she lets him shift his nippy kisses along her withers, and her ribs—“
So saying, Mac flicked his tongue over her breast, circling the hard nipple, drawing a low moan out of Rose. Her face was pink, and her hips were rolling a bit. Mac pressed his face against the corset, letting his breath seep through to her skin, letting go of her bound hands as he moved down her body, nose nuzzling the exposed patch of skin between the bottom of the corset and the top of the drawers. He flicked his tongue across it as he spoke again.
“He heats her up, gets her ready to be mounted. Mares ain’t creatures to be hurried. By the time a smart stallion’s reached her rump she’s usually making a little noise, shifting a bit—“
“R-really?” Rose moaned, her legs sliding around his ribcage. Mac crouched, his mustache trailing down one thigh as his hands slid up under her rump.
“But he doesn’t take her yet, no ma’am.”
“He doesn’t?” Rose’s groan of disappointment made him grin; Mac blew lightly across the damp curls under his nose, making her twitch and try to sit up.
“No. He shifts her tail, Miss Emma. He slides a hot tongue along her to make sure of his welcome. The sight and taste of that mare’s enough to make both of them trickle—“
“Ohhhhhhhhh—“ Rose tried harder to sit up, but Mac brushed his mustache over the top of her fur, and let his tongue flick out, gliding into the slick folds of her sex in a warm, deliberate probe. Rose arched up off the bed, gasping. Mac cupped her bottom more tightly and laughed low in his throat.
“Gets her squealing and prancing good—“ So saying, MacGyver pressed a demanding kiss onto the hot cleft of her sex, letting his tongue circle the throbbing little bud between her thighs as Rose gave a long whimpering groan and tried to thrust up against him.
Taking pity on her, Mac suckled softly, feeling her entire body begin to stiffen. He gently slid a finger into her, marveling at the silky tightness, the incredible heat within her. He stroked in and out as he suckled, and after a few minutes, Rose shuddered, a sigh rolling out of her throat, her bound hands bouncing on her stomach helplessly.
“Ahhhhhhhh!”
“— *Then* he takes her,” Mac muttered through gritted teeth. Roughly, he yanked her ass to the edge of the bed, cock rubbing across the top of her curls. Swiftly, he lifted Rose’s tied hands so they were around his neck; this pulled her chest up from the mattress. She looked down between their bodies, eyes big and blue. Mac reached down and rubbed the glistening head of his cock against her slick folds, his breathing raspy as he savored the sight of her open knickers framing the lush triangle of fur now spread wide for him.
“Watch me, darlin—“ he growled, thrusting with a hard push of his hips. Rose wailed as hot pleasure spasmed through her, sullen and sweet after her orgasm. Mac grunted, pulling back, planting his hands on either side of her hips on the edge of the bed.
“Sweet, Ro- Miss Emma, oh damn, damn you are so tight!” he hissed, nipping at her cheekbone. She gave a breathy little sigh with every thrust he made. The springs creaked; her full chest slapped against his with every stroke.
“Take me, cowboy, fuck me hard—“ she pleaded into Mac’s ear, hips corkscrewing. Those groaned little words were the last tantalizing taunt, and Mac pistoned his hips powerfully, the rhythm of his raging lust going ragged as he dropped onto Rose, driving deeply into her.
“CHRISTHONEYYES!!!” he howled against her mouth. He came hard in slow relentless spasms. Rose held him close, letting his tremors die down, letting Mac catch his breath. Both of them dozed for long dreamy moments, lost in the sheer bliss of release, basking in the afterglow and tingling.
Gradually Mac lifted his shaggy head from Rose’s shoulder and looked at her, his mahogany eyes glowing in the lamplight.
“The gates of Paradise are right between your thighs, Miss Emma, because I have purely died and gone to heaven,” he sighed dramatically. Rose giggled, her chest jiggling against him.
“Mr. Nathan, you sweet talker! I have never been so overcome at the thought of animal husbandry in my life.”
“Passion,” Mac reflected with a mischievous grin, “Is a strange and wonderful thing, Miss Emma.” He reached behind his neck and untied her hands, then used the bandana to gently blot between her legs. Shyly Rose watched him, running a light and loving touch up his shoulder. He sighed again, this time with contentment. Mac pulled at the covers of the bed.
“Rest up in my arms, Miss Emma for it’s cold outside and I’m lonely—“
“Surely Mr. Nathan, surely—“ Rose kissed him and burrowed into his side under the musty quilt, both of them dropping into a deep contented sleep.
*** *** ***
A few hours later, Rose woke up, needing the bathroom. She slid out of the bed, shivering, and tottered into the water closet, grateful that the saloon had indoor plumbing. The thought of using a cold chamber pot with Mac snickering at her was NOT an option she wanted, no matter how authentic it might be to his cowboy fantasy, but everything else so far had been nothing short of amazing. Rose sighed, hoping he wanted to keep their game going for the rest of the night.
After taking care of personal business, she scurried back into the bedroom, seeing in the dim light that Mac had burrowed down in the covers. One corner was held up.
“Scoot back in here before you freeze, Miss Emma,” came a low seductive voice. She grinned, and dove in, meeting the wall of Mac’s bare chest with a shiver of delight. He radiated heat, and smelled of musk and male arousal.
“My you’re warm, Nathan Shea—“ she accused, turning her back to him, rubbing her bottom against his reviving erection. He growled playfully, sliding an arm around her corseted waist, pulling her closer against his body.
“Burnin’ up,” he agreed cheerfully, nuzzling her ear through her long hair. The brush of his mustache tickled, and she squirmed.
“Settle down, you’re too frisky by half—“ she accused in a saucy tone, belying her words by giving a wriggle that made Mac groan wetly in her ear.
“I can’t, Missy. You’re sweet enough to entice a saint and I’m hardly that,” he breathed, tightening his arm around her. Rose gave a shimmy of her hips and leaning over her, Mac licked Rose’s neck in a long let stroke. She shuddered with pleasure. In the dark, Mac’s touch was deft and sure.
“Be good!” she ordered, but he ignored her and let his hand slid up her cotton-covered thigh, stroking softly.
“Oh I can be very good, darlin,” came his confident reply. Rose felt a pulse of heat follow his fingers as he slipped his hand into the open panel of her pantaloons. The tickle of his calluses over her fur made her shiver; Rose gasped.
“Ma-My goodness your fingers are cold, Mr. Nathan—“ she protested in a hollow voice as she fought the wave of pleasure at his teasing touch. Mac chuckled, a low, very masculine sound deep in her ear.
“And you’re very warm, Miss Emma. Such an accommodating heat right here—“ his words ended in a nip against her throat, right at the soft join of neck and shoulder. Rose groaned wantonly.
“Gracious saints, you’re a randy one—“ she accused. Mac didn’t reply; he was too busy nipping lightly. Rose gripped the edge of the mattress and pried herself out of his grip, reluctantly. Curious, Mac let her slid away as she rolled to so that they were on their sides facing each other. The dim light through the window left the two of them in shadow and twilight.
“You need a lesson in Mattress manners, Nathan Shea—“ Rose accused in a playful tone, her hands toying with his furry chest. Mac gave a wounded sigh through a smiling mouth.
“I would dearly love a lesson then, Miss Emma. It’d be a sheer pleasure to study under you—“ came his unmistakable innuendo.
Her hands slid down his chest to his stomach, stroking lightly, and Rose bit back a giggle, scooting closer. She ran her booted foot up the outside of his leg in a teasing manner and was rewarded with a throb of interest from the thick shaft pressing against her stomach.
“First lesson—when en flagrante with a lady, always present yourself in the best possible way—“ she told him. Her hands encircled his erection, softly gripping the velvety warmth of it, making Mac groan very softly. She let her fingers slide repeatedly along the veined length, caressing and teasing as she did so.
“Mmmmmmm--Is that a fact?” He asked in a distracted voice, one hand cupping the back of her neck, the other over her hip. Rose smiled, feeling him stiffen and swell under her strokes.
“Oh yes, Mr. Nathan. When you have as much manhood to offer a lady as you do, it’s only fair to do so generously, don’t you think?”
“Ummmm,” came Mac’s slightly strangled reply, “W-whatever you say, Miss Emma—“
“Oh I do, sir—now when the mood takes her, a lady might very well be inclined to indulge her continental appetites—“ Rose pressed an open mouthed kiss on Mac’s lips as she continued to caress his cock. Eagerly he slid his tongue over hers in slow deep plunge. His hips rocked as he thrust into her hands, and she gave a happy moan at the simultaneous rhythm. After a while, she broke off the kiss and nipped his nose.
“—As I was saying! If she so desires to devour you in such a fashion, Nathan, you must be a gentleman, and accommodate her . . .” Rose shimmied down the length of Mac’s heated body until her face rubbed against his cock; he shuddered when her breath caressed it.
“Oh darlin, let me BE a gentleman!” he hissed playfully, hands stroking her hair. Rose lightly licked the shaft in her hands, feeling it throb again. With slow deliberation, she let her tongue trail over it, swirl around the wet blunt head and down again in a provocative tease, drawing out the moment. Mac gave a growl through clenched teeth. Rose chuckled, and in one smooth plunge let him slide into her heated mouth.
“Ahhhhhhhh—!“ Mac’s response thrilled her as his grip on her loose hair tightened.
“Ohhhh Miss Emma!” he gasped, hips rocking. Rose gave a soft hum and sucked with tender finesse, feeling the muscles of his thighs tense and flex with every stroke. Long pleasure soaked moments later, Rose pulled away regretfully, hearing Mac’s guttural cursing when she did so.
“Language, Mr. Nathan!”
“I was on the verge of seriously accommodating you, Miss Emma!” Mac growled in frustration. She pushed his hip, forcing him to lie on his back, then knelt by his ribs and kissed his face, starting at his unshaven chin and working her way up to his eyes. Rose smiled into their dark lust-soaked depths.
“Dear Mr. Nathan, I’m delighted with your progress. You’ve plunged forward and strained to please me with your lengthy skills. But the last lesson in the one I think you’ll find the most deeply satisfying.”
Mac, sweaty aroused and frustrated, drank in the sight of Rose leaning over him, her chest spilling out of her corset as she licked her lips. He groaned, reaching for her, but she pulled away and gently slapped his hands.
“Ah ah—“ she mock-sternly ordered, “You reach up over your head and get a good grip those brass rails, cowboy—“
Reluctantly Mac did, keeping his hot gaze on Rose, who got to her knees and seductively ran her hands through her long hair.
“Last lesson, Mr. Nathan—“ Rose shifted to straddle his hips, lifting herself over his straining cock. Mac growled again, watching her tear the cotton drawers wider, stroking the dark triangle of fur exposed there as she lightly rubbed herself against the head of his shaft.
“Always offer a lady a good firm seat—“ she moaned, reaching down and slowly, wetly impaling herself. Mac’s entire body tensed, his stomach going rock hard as his lean powerful hips thrust up and a deep pleasured grunt escaped his throat. He braced his feet on the mattress, thighs coming up under Rose’s bottom.
“Oooohhhhhh yes, baby, Ohhhh, GOD yes!” Rose whimpered, her hands bracing on his hard stomach as he bucked, nearly lifting her off the mattress, Mac kept his grip on the brass headboard, sweat rolling down his neck, pooling in the hollow of his throat. The bed creaked again, in loud squeaky counterpoint to the relentless slams on the mattress. Rose bounced, her cries of pleasure hot and loud in the night. Under her, Mac quickened, his thrusts wild, powerful, mindless.
“MmmmDAMN,OhfuckI’mgonnaCOMMMMMME,OHHHHH!” Mac bellowed, arching up with wild, passionate strength, emptying himself in slow deep spurts. Rose clung to him, lost in her own release, curly hair flailing over her shoulders as she slumped down onto his sweaty chest.
For long dazed moments they lay in a collapsed heap, letting their heartbeats slow down, trying to recover their senses. Rose spasmed with pleasurable aftershocks, and weakly scooted up the prone length of the man under her. Mac let go of the rails and brought his arms around her tightly. When she pressed her cheek to his scratchy one, she found it damp.
“Honey?” she asked carefully, kissing him. He gave a shuddering sigh and tightened his grip on her.
“You. Are. amazing,” he confessed in a choked voice. Rose laughed softly against his mustached mouth, but he persisted.
“Sexy as hell, loving, playful— in a word, amazing, Rose,” Mac rumbled, kissing her.
“I love you too,” she sighed, snuggling down in utter contentment under the damp sheets.
As the first pale light of dawn lit the window, Mac stirred. His eyes slowly
opened, and he looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling, wondering for a nanosecond
where he was. When memories of the night flooded back, he drew in a deep sigh,
smug beyond reason, well pleased with life in general. He dimpled a smile and
rolled to curl his big rangy frame around the sleeping Rose at his right side.
“Miss Emma? You awake, darlin?”
“Grrrrrr—“ came the sleepy, slightly annoyed growl as Rose burrowed into the lumpy pillow. Mac kissed her smooth warm shoulder, mustache tickling it by her reaction.
“A wildcat at night and a bear in the morning—gal, you are full of surprises—“ he reached around over the corset to cup her breast, thumb playing over the erect pink nipple. Eyes still closed, Rose snarled, but Mac only laughed.
“Not a lark, up with the sun, are you?”
“Mr. Nathan, you cannot be serious,” Rose grumbled. “ I have—obliged--you twice now, and you had a bath and dinner besides!”
“Far be it for me to abuse your hospitality, sweetheart, but parts of you are so tender and tempting—“ Mac sighed with a grin.
Rose let him tease her breasts, cupping them as he rolled her onto her back and leaned on one elbow looking down at her. Rose stretched like a cat, arching and flexing, her warm body shifting within the corset. Mac drank in the sight of her: half-dressed, hair loose across the pillow, mouth curving in a smile. He watched his hand caress the warm hollow between her breasts, feeling her heartbeat against his palm.
“I purely do love to touch you, sweetheart,” he sighed happily, letting his fingers trail down over the corset until he touched skin again, the exposed triangle of glossy auburn curls visible through the open cotton pantaloons. Mac let a finger trail through Rose’s curls and stroked the slick inner folds of her sex; she rose up on her elbows and watched him do it to her, hot-eyed and trembling.
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” she sighed, opening her thighs to Mac’s teasing strokes. His fingers fluttered with teasing skill, sliding and tickling with delicate erotic intent.
“Beautiful, seeing you like this, all soft and quivering, feeling how hot you are, how excited—“ he growled, his dark-eyed gaze shifting from her face to her pussy. Whimpering, Rose reached a hand to touch the shaft straining against her cotton-clad thigh, but Mac shook his shaggy head, kissing her breast, tongue circling her stiff nipple.
“Just you. Wider sweetheart--show me that sweet secret between your legs. I’m going to play with it good—“ he huskily insisted. Rose bit her lips, but eagerly shifted her thighs, opening herself brazenly in the golden light of dawn. Mac slowly sank two fingers into the slick pillowy depths of her, his thumb ever so lightly sliding over her swollen bud; Rose let her head drop back and gave a moan.
“M-more—“ came her breathless demand. Mac’s mustache twitched, and he gently thrust himself against her leg.
“Oh God you fucking turn me on—“ he confessed with a blush as he slowly stroked his fingers into her. Rose lifted her hips as she tried to push against his hand, but his teasing thumb barely stroked against her quivering little knob. She writhed, head lolling back, panting a bit as Mac kept his tauntingly slow pace, watching her and licking his lips.
“I love the way your luscious garden looks right now, exposed and hungry through those damn drawers—you’re so hot, so wet sweetheart,” he gasped. The iron ridge of his cock was sliding forcefully against the outside of Rose’s thigh. She groaned in frustration.
“Don’t tease me, touch me! I need it, rub it, rub it—“ came her pant. Mac let his thumb press harder; Rose quivered with pleasure, hips rocking up to make his fingers slide in and out of her juicy depths.
“So sweeet, love. Tastes so good too—“ Mac taunted, feeling Rose begin to spasm, tightening around his fingers as her body. She gave a low moan of utter delight, her chest bouncing as it flushed and deep shudders wracked her frame. Mac let her ride his hand for long minutes, and felt her slump down, sated before he drew in a breath.
“Roll over—!“ it wasn’t quite an order, but the hot desperation in his voice reached through Rose’s afterglow and she gave a knowing smile. She reached for his hand and languidly licked the wet fingers. Mac cursed.
“Damn it, NOW!” he hissed, dark eyes fiery with need. Rose got to her hands and knees, tossing her long hair over her shoulders.
“Mount up—“ she teased. Mac got to his knees behind her, one hand clumsily guiding himself in. He plunged forward, grunting, making Rose sigh. His big hands gripped the corset as he began to pump his hips, moving in deep, deliberate strokes.
“Jesus, I love you Rose—“ he gasped, lost in the slick heat, the sensual suction of Rose’s body. She tossed her head back, long hair spilling over his grip on her corset. Mac arched over her spine, breathing hoarsely, his tangled hair swinging as he thrust himself deeper. Rose quivered, panting with each strong stroke of his cock. Mac groaned as all of his senses began to hit an exquisite overload; his hips rocked faster.
“Oh yes, ohhh yesssss—“ came his rough voice, husky with lust. Within long moments, Rose tensed, the fluttering undeniable flare igniting between her thighs. She panted.
“Ohohohoh,YESYESYES!!!” Rose gasped, utterly lost in the overwhelming pleasure fireballing through her veins.
“YeahoooohhhhhhGOD!!” Mac hoarsely grunted, burying himself deeply. Dimly she felt him drop heavily on her sweat slicked back, his body pinning hers as he shuddered.
“Ohhhhhh. I love you. I cannot believe you actually went along with all of this, and I totally and completely love you, Rose,” came the tired whisper in her ear. She squirmed, trying to get out from under the heavy body on her back and giggled faintly.
“Pfffft! I had the time of my life, Mac! Got to be a total tease, got to see you have a lot of fun, and got—“
“—Laid?” Came the slightly embarrassed, deeply contented comment. Rose made a happy humming sound. Both of them heard the thudding of Barnum coming up the stairs; the dog whimpered at the door and Mac sighed, slowly rolling off of Rose’s back and kissing the damp nape of her neck.
“Ah well. Time for Nathan Shea to ride off into the sunset.”
“With Miss Emma waving to him from an upper window?” Rose joked gently, pushing herself to a sitting position, and shaking her hair out. Mac wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck.
“Oh no. See, Nathan proposed. Since he’s got deeded land waiting for him, he’s ready to homestead, and he’s not the sort to do it alone. Miss Emma’s just the woman he needs.”
“How do you know she said yes?” Rose snorted turning to rub noses with Mac while his mustache tickled her lip. His brown eyes danced with amusement.
“Honey, not more than ten minutes ago you were howling, and I quote, “oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, yes—‘ sounded pretty definite to ME, Miss Emma.”
Rose blushed, and kissed him to cover it.
“You ARE such a sucker for a happy ending, Mac!”
END