TEN

I flipped my horse's reins over the hitching rail and looked at the house with new eyes – the way Sibella might view it – and saw how well-built and imposing the Ponderosa was. The day was going to be glorious, the breeze, cool, like the breath of an angel. Clouds scudded across a clear sky and as Browning said, "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world." I smiled thinking how Iwould go inside, sweep Sibella up into my arms, kiss her lovely mouth and tell her I loved her. I didn't expect her to respond in kind – after all she was inexperienced, but she would know how I felt. I had rehearsed my words and anticipated Sibella's face going from near-tears to a beaming smile of happiness. But I tend to underestimate the women I've loved – or overestimate my draw for them. Anyway, I was ready to win over my new wife's heart. But instead of Sibella coming out to meet me, it was Hoss who rushed out of the house and onto the porch with a worried look.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Adam, I swear to you – Joe and me – we didn't know Sibella was sittin' there listenin' or we never woulda…"

Sibella came out, her face stiff. Hoss, seeing her, stepped back inside and shut the door but not before saying to me, "Joe and me, we're sorry, Adam."

Sibella stood in silence, slightly trembling. "Sibella, what's wrong? Hoss just…" And then she slapped me with all her strength. Now I've been punched by men who hit like a mule kicks and I've been worked over by a few thugs in my time but that slap stung my pride like a hive of bees. "You get one," I said, my voice a low threat, raising one finger. "One - and that was it."

Sibella, her hands in fists by her side, practically spat, "I know where you've been! I know about your 'woman' in Carson City - your whore!"

"Well, what did you think I did for sex? Diddle the heifers?" And then Sibella slapped me again. I grabbed her by the arm, propped a foot on one of the chairs, turned Sibella over my knee and walloped her. My hand came down on her sweet ass - I don't know how many times. She struggled and yowled and I became angrier and angrier. She hadn't even given me a chance to make amends. And then my father came rushing out of the house.

"Adam, what are you doing? Adam, stop….Adam! Adam!"

I continued to smack Sibella, feeling her buttocks tighten beneath my hand with each smack; the light dress she was wearing, didn't provide much padding.

"Adam! That's enough!" My father stood on the other side of me and I looked at his face. His expression of shock stayed my hand. I returned Sibella to her feet and her face was as red with embarrassment as I imagine her ass was.

"I hate you!" She shouted, rubbing her backside. "I wish I'd never married you! I hope you fall off your horse and break your neck or get trampled to death in a stampede!' Bursting into tears, she ran into the house.

"Adam, what was all that about?" My father waited, his hands on his hips.

I was breathing heavily – partly from exertion and partly from fury. All my plans for our happiness had been destroyed by that little bitch. "I was going to…it doesn't matter what it's about, Pa." I pulled off my jacket and threw it over the chair, composing myself. "I'm going to take care of my horse."

My father grabbed my arm. "You better take care of your wife. Sibella found out about Donna. No one told her. Last evening, she was at the desk writing her parents when she overheard Hoss and Joe talking on the porch. They were playing checkers out here and the window was open and Sibella heard them talking about you and Carson City and Donna. It wasn't intentional, but, Adam, you never should have gone."

"I know that now, Pa, but it's a little late for self-reproach, isn't it?"

"If you apologize to Sibella, I'm sure she'll…"

"Pa, please! I know you mean well but this is my business. Whether you're ashamed of me or not for having a mistress or for spanking Sibella, I have to tend to my own peccadilloes in the best way I know." I started to walk away but wheeled about to face him. "And what I was going to tell Sibella is that I've cut off my relationship with Donna. But I guess now it doesn't matter. Actually, it looks as if I may even regret doing it. Maybe I will have to start diddling the stock."

My father looked confused at my last comment; I guess he hadn't been eavesdropping on my conversation with Sibella; he's more honorable than I would have been in the same situation,

Finally, after tending my horse and putting him away, I was up in my room and able to wash those parts that needed it and shave off my almost three days' growth. Before the razor cleared away the bristles, I resembled a highwayman – an intimidating one, at that. As I went through the usual actions of washing and shaving, my mind was roiling. I should have known better than to expect a happy resolution – read too much poetry and worst of all, I was actually a romantic at heart. Despite all my failed relationships with the "gentler" sex, I yearned for love, not so much for someone to love, but for someone to love me. A little pathetic, in my opinion, but I think all men – perhaps all women as well - yearn to be loved.

I suppose my father would say that it was because I had never really had the love of a mother for any substantial length of time and searched for it in every woman I met. But trust me, I never wanted to fuck any of my stepmothers like I did the women I met, although had I been older, I might have considered Marie, Joe's mother, if she'd been so inclined.

I was getting dressed, buttoning up a workshirt when a knock – more like someone pounding on my door, drew my attention. I opened it and beheld Sibella, a cross between a scowl and a pout on her beautiful face. She was dressed in a dark blue traveling suit that brought out the color of those beautiful eyes of hers.

"I'm leaving you," she said. "Hoss is taking me into town and I just wanted to tell you that. I'm going home to my parents for the time being. And as for the money my father gave you, my dowry, I suppose it's yours to keep but it would be gentlemanly of you to return it."

I laughed – derisively, of course. I decided that I wouldn't yet tell her that the draft was made out to her. "You can call it a dowry if it makes you feel better, I'd call it a bribe but I'll gladly give it back to you."

"And how much money did it take for you to marry me?"

I could see her anger building and I have to admit I enjoyed aggravating her. "Sibella, your father doesn't have enough money for that."

"Oh, you…you…" Sibella raised her hand to slap me, I raised an eyebrow, and her hand fell back down to her side. "Why then did you marry me?"

"Why, you asked me, Sibella. At the time, it seemed rude to decline."

"OH!" She tried to slap me again but I caught her hand.

"Oh, Sibella, you shouldn't have done that." I pulled her into my room and pushed the door shut. She fought me, struggling to get away and called me various names – names that would have made her mother faint dead away had she heard. And again, Sibella said she hated me. I sat down on the side of my bed and pulled Sibella over my knee and tossed up her skirts. Her ass was as round as a peach and when I pulled down her pantalets, despite her desperate kicking and attempts to cover herself with her small hands, I saw that delightful split. And then she stopped struggling; I'm sure she could feel my hardness poking her belly – enough to give her pause to reconsider her situation.

My hand came down hard on her tender skin and she started howling again but I didn't stop until her buttocks were red. Then I stood her up and she looked like a naughty child having been spanked for stealing cookies before dinner, her pantalets having fallen about her ankles, her hair halfway tumbled down about her shoulders, tears on her face.

"Well," I said, "now you have even more reason to hate me."

Sibella stood before me, not moving, not speaking and then, suddenly, she threw herself onto me, knocking me backwards on the bed, and covered my face with kisses. I could taste the salty tears on her lips as I responded and within a few minutes, she and I were rolling half-naked on my bed, her white pantalets still hanging from one ankle like a flag of surrender, as her legs wrapped about my waist. And thus, after what, as a boy, I called a good tanning, Sibella lost her virginity and I had a wife.

We spent hours in that room that afternoon, and I showed Sibella the varied ways a man and a woman could satisfy and please one another. I suppose a poet might say I "ravished" her and I did. She cried out at some things I did, her back arching in pleasure, and moaned at others, twisting the sheets with her hands. I luxuriated in the sensations of her sweet mouth on my prick as she practiced pleasing me and she seemed almost intoxicated when she kissed me afterward. We wallowed in the delight we found with one another and finally, we were sated – at least for a few hours. And when I told my Sibella I loved her, she lay her head on my chest, hugged me, and swore she loved me and wanted me from the moment she saw me in her mother's parlor. Then she bit one of my nipples and I reached down and smacked that rosy ass again.

Suffice it to say, Sibella and I are very pleased with one another and after a year and a half of burying myself up to my balls in her every chance I had, she's with child. My father is delirious with joy. This will be his first grandchild. Seems that Joe and Jessica Moritz were no longer an item; as soon as she agreed to marry him, Joe couldn't seem to back away fast enough.

And I discovered something very important; what makes good sex is not necessarily love, not necessarily even technique, but heat, passion. And Sibella realizes it too, so every so often, she'll get a mischievous look in those lovely blue eyes, twitch that shapely ass in my face and then start an argument. I, of course, then pull her over my knee, smack her exposed ass and then we have sex – great sex. And who could ask for more? And if this isn't a romantic ending, well, I don't know what the hell is.

~ Finis ~