19. Indiscreet
Chapter nineteen
Indiscreet
Half an hour later, mules checked, camp secured, wagon lit with a lamp, Clem reclined on the inside step to the driver’s box still dressed, watching Kizzy in her prim and proper nightgown make their bed for the night, arranging blankets and pillows.
She rose, face flushed, and came to stand between Clem’s legs.
“Oh, no, something’s wrong,” Kizzy complained, grabbing herself through her gown with both hands. A distinct twinkle in her eye put the lie to her words.
“Oh?” Clem’s heartbeat quickened as she played along and reached for her. “Shall I take a look?”
“Yes, please,” said Kizzy with a grin, sitting on Clem’s lap, wrapping one arm around her neck. She wiggled, wriggled, and jiggled. “I feel a little… empty.” She pointed. “Here.”
“Well,” Clem said, raising the nightgown to expose the area in question, “maybe I can help.” Running her hand between soft thighs, she trailed a finger along the velvety slit. “Does this make it feel better?”
“Ummm, yes…” simpered Kizzy, “but I need more.” She spread her thighs, holding her breath.
Clem dipped two fingers in her honey pot, pulling them out to lick the creamy wetness from them.
“Me, too,” she said, voice growing husky.
“And I want to see what I’m doing.” She stood Kizzy up and pulled off her nightgown, leaving her naked, skin gleaming by candlelight.
Spreading it over the box step, she sat her in the same place and said, “Spread your legs and hold yourself open for me.”
“I like when you tell me what you want,” said Kizzy, doing as asked. As her arms reached down center, they pushed her breasts forward, her nipples darkening from pink to red.
“I want to make you come like thunder,” said Clem, moving in close and taking a lick.
She busied her tongue dipping, licking, diving, twirling all along the sweetness spread before her, enjoying the sight of swollen pink flesh, the smell of Kizzy’s arousal, the taste of nectar on her tongue.
As velvet touched her lips, and satin-smooth skin teased her fingertips, she stroked hips and thighs.
“Oh, oh, oh…” Kizzy simpered, her want sending Clem’s two fingers into her, diving deep. “Yes, yes, but I want more.”
She reached for Clem, pulling her up for a kiss as her hands reached for the buttons on her jeans. “Put your new johnson in me again.” Kizzy’s teeth caught her bottom lip, her eyes sparkling as she grinned. “I liked it from behind,” she emphasized, “a lot.”
Swatting her hand away, Clem took over the unbuttoning, pulling her johnson out. “Then turn around and brace yourself.” She stood back to watch Kizzy kneel on her nightgown, then bend forward with her head on her arms, eyes filled with the sight of her.
Has anyone ever been as lucky as I am? She met Kizzy’s eyes, heated with desire.
“Like this?” Raising her naked ass, she wiggled her hips, which shook her back cheeks, and made her breasts jiggle.
Clem sucked in her breath. “Yes, that’s right, like that,” she said, getting set behind her.
Leaning forward, she ran her hands over Kizzy’s naked body, kissed her back, caressed her breasts, and pinched her nipples.
She nuzzled her neck and whispered into her ear, “Spread your legs and open for me, darling.”
In the flickering light of the suspended lamp, Clem leaned back and took another moment to appreciate Kizzy’s lush body, before guiding her leather johnson into her wet center.
“Yes, yes.” Kizzy gave an eager cry, pushing back against her until filled. “That’s it.” She looked over her shoulder, eyes smoldering. “Take me the same way you did out there.”
At her urging, Clem started stroking in and out with long, slow motions.
“Yessss,” Kizzy hissed with pleasure.
Clem started easy but soon increased her speed, using her strength.
Kizzy moaned, encouraging her to go faster. “Yes, like that.” She slammed back into Clem, urging her on.
With enthusiastic joy, Clem tightened her grip on Kizzy’s hips, pushing into her with vigor. “Oh yes, woman,” she groaned as the wagon filled with the sounds of their passion.
“Do it harder.” Kizzy grunted with each shove, tossing her head, her braid slapping her back. “Harder,” she demanded.
Clem grabbed her braid, pulled her head back, then double-timed her.
“Oh my God.” Kizzy panted, crying out, “Yes! Rougher, harder, like that – I… want… more!”
Reveling in her demands, Clem rocked faster, harder, deeper, rougher than she’d ever been before. Excited by the sights and sounds of Kizzy’s pleasure, her own climax roared to life, and she bucked against Kizzy’s ass, grinding her hips, and crying out, “Damn, woma…”
A loud knock on the side of the wagon shocked them into stillness. Too distracted to notice the noise they were making, the clatter of things rattling in the wagon settled around them into silence.
“Ahem, Dennison, a word?” The voice of the trail boss sounded loud, only a few feet away.
“Oh, hell,” Clem whispered, pulling out and kissing her shocked wife’s raised bottom. “You stay here, we’re not through yet.” She rose, tucked in her johnson, adjusted her clothing, and then stepped up to the driver’s box through the drawn canvas.
“Evening, Mr. Cushing,” Clem said, trying to look casual. “What can I do for you?”
The big man squinted up, rolling a finger along his mustache, smoothing it in place. “I stopped by to tell you I looked at your mule, and to talk over a couple of things. Seeing your wagon lit so bright told me you were still up, and wouldn’t mind company.”
He pulled off his hat, ducked his head, and avoided her eyes. “But as I got close I could hear this isn’t a good time.” He stuck his hat back on his head, speaking low. “Couldn’t make out the words being said, son, but some other noises caught my attention.”
Grateful for the dark night, Clem wondered if her burning face would crumble to ashes and blow away; she’d never been so embarrassed. But she’d be damned if Cushing was going to know that. Clem straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and nodded once in acknowledgment.
The trail boss smoothed his mustache again, then shot her a knowing look under a raised eyebrow.
“You’re a healthy man with a pretty young wife, and it’s natural you want to get,” he cleared his throat, “closer, but you ought to know sound carries out here. And in darkness, light is an invitation to look.”
Clem kept her face as neutral as his, cringing inside at her foolish mistakes, “I appreciate you stopping by to let me know about the molly and,” she paused, “everything, Mr. Cushing.” She clamped down on a nervous laugh trying to escape, stuffing her hands deep in her pockets like a man.
“I’ll come by your wagon around noon tomorrow to have that chat.
” She looked him straight in the eye, nodded her thanks without smiling, then turned back into the wagon, tossing over her shoulder, “In the future we’ll be more discreet. ”
“Much obliged,” she heard Mr. Cushing say, moseying off to bed down his wagon train. “Y’all have a good night,” he called back with a small chuckle.
Kizzy watched Clem climb back in with embarrassed eyes and red cheeks, once again wearing her nightgown.
“Did you hear any of that?” Clem asked.
Kizzy sighed. “No, you barely said a word and he spoke too low. Did Mr. Cushing hear us?”
“Not what we said, but he heard what we were doing, which means others can, too.” She pulled the candle shade down, darkening the wagon. She sat back on the box step and patted her knee. “Come here.”
Perching on her lap, Kizzy’s head sagged as she muttered, “Oh God, the scandals I was in in Rocheport never bothered me, but this… this is embarrassing.” Her cheeks flamed bright pink. “I can’t attend services tomorrow.”
Clem cradled her, caressing her blushing face, brushing away stray tendrils of hair.
“Sure you can if you want to. Go to the church meeting in the morning, watch Mr. Cushing while he preaches at you, and thank him for the sermon after, just as you would if he never stopped by. He won’t mention it to you, he’s not that kind of man.
It’s none of his business what happens in private between married people, which he knows as well as anyone. ”
She kissed the top of Kizzy’s head, smoothing her braid.
“You,” she added, wrapping her in a warm hug for emphasis, “are the same incredible person I married and no one, not even you, Keziah Walker Dennison, may say anything against my wife. I know how lucky I am, and won’t allow you to think any less of yourself.
I’m proud of you, and even prouder to be your husband. ”
“What?” Kizzy whispered, growing still and stiff in Clem’s arms. Then she squirmed, struggling free of her embrace.
Startled to see tears in her eyes, she let go. Both of Kizzy’s arms flew around her neck in a tight squeeze as she buried her face in Clem’s neck.
A small voice muffled by her shirt asked, “You’re p-proud of me?” The arms tightened around her neck. “D-don’t say it if you don’t m-mean it.” A strangled whimper escaped.
“Oh, darling, don’t cry,” crooned Clem, holding her. “I do mean it.” She rubbed soothing circles on Kizzy’s back. “I am very proud of you, the woman you are, and the wife who puts her trust in me.”
Hot tears wet her skin as a low moan rose between them. This isn’t about getting caught in an embarrassing situation.
Kizzy had laughed when she told Clem about the series of ‘scandals’ she’d faced at the church in Rocheport, everything from theft (she took a pencil from the church registry to draw with), laziness (caught taking a nap when she should have been cleaning the pews) and raising her hand against her father (who failed to mention to his spellbound congregation that his wicked daughter had yanked the belt he was beating her with from his hand, and turned it on him).
As she grew older and blossomed into maturity, the accusations grew more frequent, and even more absurd; egregious vanity (a charge leveled by the mother of a plain spinster), reading pornography (those silly penny dreadfuls), and animal cruelty (she’d forgotten to feed the Sunday School goldfish for a week, and a class of toddlers grew hysterical when they found it floating belly up).
The list was so ridiculous, long, and creative Clem wondered if it was the prurient moral rigidity of both church and community that found sin in everything Kizzy did, or if it was her physical beauty they came to admire while she was compelled to repent before them.
Shuddering sobs wracked the poor girl’s body as her arms clutched Clem around the neck. She rocked Kizzy and hugged her close. But this goes far deeper than that.
“Shh, shh…” Clem rose with Kizzy in her arms, kneeled on the floor of the wagon, and laid her on their bed of blankets.
“It’s all right …” she soothed. Soft cries wrung her heart as she hurried to undress, blow out the candle, lie beside her, and pull the bedclothes over them.
“I’m here …” she crooned to her love, gathering her into her arms, kissing her forehead as they nestled.
“You’re safe, Kizzy. I’m here. No one will hurt you. ”
When she calmed, Clem leaned up on one elbow to look down at her, smoothing stray hair from wet cheeks.
She broached the subject of the Sunday sermons delivered as parental discipline, disguised by her father as church doctrine, and locked eyes with Kizzy.
With restrained strength, she said, “Sweetheart, please listen to me.”
Clem bent close, nose to nose, eye to eye.
“I am proud to be chosen by such a kind, adventurous, and brave soul. You are smart as a whip, good-hearted, and the best company I’ve ever had, bar none, even Barney.
” She kissed Kizzy’s forehead. “I don’t believe in a god but I do believe in miracles, because I married one. ”
Her words fell on deaf ears.
Kizzy’s tortured eyes turned inward. In an almost silent whisper through tight lips, she recited a vile litany without breathing.
“I’m Satan’s spawn, an abomination, a pervert, un…
unnat…” she gasped for breath, “an unnatural freak,” she spat out.
Forehead wrinkled in a scowl, she shrugged with a hopeless sigh and shudder.
“And unfit to live among decent folks.” Cold eyes glazed with unshed tears.
“Kizzy,” Clem said, caressing her soft cheek until she focused, “darling, that’s one man’s opinion, and totally untrue.
I haven’t met my father-in-law, the so-called Reverend Walker, but I already know he’s a stupid lout.
” She shrugged at Kizzy’s startled look.
“He’s a weak, fallible man; even though he claims to speak for your god, his nasty choice of words is his own. ”
She leaned down and grazed along soft lips, murmuring, “I’m not an idiot, and I will tell you the truth so often it drives out his evil lies.” Clem kissed Kizzy with everything in her heart, wrapping her in strong, gentle arms. “I’m proud of you, and will tell you every day.”
It took a while, and several repetitions, but as her words sank in, Kizzy’s eyes cleared. She sighed, blinked, and then focused on Clem with a returning hint of her playfulness. “You don’t need to tell me every day,” she suggested with a slight smile. “Maybe twice a month would be better.”
“Twice a week, twice an hour, whatever it takes for you to know your own worth.” Clem kissed her dimple and rolled Kizzy onto her side facing away.
She offered her arm for a pillow as if about to spoon, then tugged the nightgown up over Kizzy’s bare bottom to feel her heat.
“And I haven’t forgotten what we were doing before we were interrupted.
Let me check that emptiness you complained of earlier. ”
Clem arranged them so her free hand could caress between Kizzy’s thighs at their juncture.
Leveraging her top leg, Clem leaned her forward and tugged her warm bottom close.
As she entered Kizzy with a supple finger, she flexed the arm pillowing her head, and tilted her back enough to give her shoulder a little nibble.
Kizzy’s gasp, and the sudden arching of her back, shot spikes of pleasure along Clem’s spine.
Maybe she couldn’t kick Kizzy’s asshole father to hell and back, but she could help her forget him and relax.
With soft words and subtle caresses, she made slow, tender love to her wife until she climaxed, shuddering in her arms, and then a while longer just for comfort. When finished, they spooned.
Long after Kizzy’s breathing evened and warm body relaxed, Clem basked in the glow of holding her. She had become more important than anything else in life. Nestling Kizzy close to her heart, she fell asleep, lulled by her soft snores.