Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden 1)

"That was a mistake." I felt my cheeks heat at the memory.

"No, it wasn't. Sam and Cole have actually been staying away on purpose. They will see you like this, and in other ways, so you better get used to it."

I remembered Sam putting in my cork and I felt my nipples tighten. There was no way to hide that from Jake.

He grinned and stared at my breasts. "It's like that, is it?"

"Like what?" I attempted to cross my arms over my chest but it only lifted my breasts even higher. I quickly dropped my hands in my lap.

"The idea of Sam touching you is arousing." He watched me carefully.

I looked everywhere but at Jake.

He leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. "You act all outraged and fuss about Cole or Sam seeing your breasts, but your body betrays you, sweetheart. Are you worried I'll be upset that you are aroused by my brothers?"

I swung my gaze to him, but couldn't speak.

"You are. Good girl."

My mouth fell open. "Good girl?"

He stood, carried his plate into the kitchen, returned. "They're not going to fuck you, so don't even think about that. But they'll have their hands on you, to be sure. This is a big ranch and there's only so much of me to go around. What happens if I couldn't get back to you last night like I had? Would you want me leaving you in that condition, all sore and needy?"

"Well," I sputtered.

"If I couldn't be here, I would make sure Sam or Cole kept you safe, tended to your needs."

"You'd let them...lick me?"

"Hell no. That pussy is mine. There's other ways to make you come. Don't worry. I'll take care of you. And that includes making sure someone else does when I'm not here." He stroked my hair. "As I said before, Maura will be coming by in a bit. You will not cover yourself. You will not touch your cork. Otherwise, I hope you have a good day. If you're not too sore, you may use your special chair. I will see you at dinner."

Maura arrived an hour later, catching me as I straddled the arm of the chair Jake had put me in the night before, my legs bent over each side as if I were riding a horse. I kept my shirts down and beneath me so that I didn't leave a telltale stain on the arm. My pussy dripped copiously and there was no way to stop it. It wanted to be fucked. I wanted to be fucked. The soreness inside was diminished, and hopefully gone soon. I longed for Jake's cock. In the meantime, I avoided my special chair and decided to rub myself on the soft arm cushion instead. I was rocking my hips back and forth, pressing my clit against the surface, my breasts bouncing, when Maura found me.

"There you are! Oh, you poor dear," she said, surprising me at her sudden appearance. She was in her early thirties, long blond hair. She was tall and thin, willowy, quite beautiful and clearly happy.

/> Straddling the arm of the chair as I was, I was mortified. I didn't know what to say, what to do. But then I realized she wore a blouse identical in style to mine. Her breasts were not as ample as mine, but her nipples were larger and elongated. I realized I was staring and started to cry.

She came in to the room and pulled up a chair to sit next to me. "It's all right. Really, it is."

I could only shake my head in disagreement.

"I found my pleasure in those first few months of my marriage by grasping hold of the bedpost and rubbing myself while standing there. I would also just lie back on the bed and touch myself. I never got anything accomplished."

"Really?" I sniffled.

"Really." She patted my hand. "I'm going to go into the kitchen and make us some tea. Make yourself come. You'll feel better. Then we'll have a little chat." She gave me a reassuring smile, then left me alone.

Knowing I couldn't leave myself wanting like I was, and regardless of the embarrassment, I rubbed myself to pleasure, trying to remain silent as I did so. It took a few minutes to pull myself together, but I couldn't linger. Having Maura see like this was bad enough; I didn't want her to seek me out. I adjusted my skirts and met Maura in the kitchen as if she hadn't caught me in a most compromising position. It was hard to look her in the eye, but then I saw that her bosom wasn't covered, but equally as exposed as mine, so I didn't feel so shameful, nor modest.

We sat across from each other at the table, the other woman sitting daintily in her seat, her body leaning slightly forward, her breasts thrust out in a way that was indicative of a full ass. It was a position I was quickly coming to recognize because I positioned myself in a similar fashion. "I'm sorry. It's almost impossible for me not to stare. I haven't really seen another woman's body before, and certainly not in the kitchen."

She smiled kindly at me, placed her hand on top of mine on the table. "You didn't have a momma?"

I bit my lower lip and shook my head. "She died when I was quite small. My father was a drunk and didn't think of me much. I think it might have been better that way. Regardless, my mother would not have known the ways of the Bridger men and I would still have been woefully unprepared."

Taking a sip of her tea, she nodded. "You might just be right. Now though, you've got a strapping husband."

I blushed. "He is very handsome."