How The West Was Done 4 (Patreon)

Thorne would’ve slapped her, spanked her, but that would be hasty. So he used his words instead: “Not much meat on those timbers. But what is there looks sweet.”

Her legs swooped down from the swell of her ass, slender as a doe’s, but with Sofia there, Thorne felt like a prophet. He could foresee how Claudia’s thighs would thicken, her ass round out, and it would only make her more luscious. Her hair, the same flavor of chocolate as Sofia’s, was tightly braided on top of her head.

Thorne pulled out the wooden pins that held it in place. When her tresses tumbled down her bare back, Sofia let out a moan. She knew what Claudia was in for.

Dark hair rustled against Claudia’s brown skin. The firelight made her flesh and Sofia’s gleam with the same fervor. Thorne came around in front of Claudia and saw in her eyes, reflected back at him, the sweat that was making his face glow.

“Do you want to be mine?” he asked her. He meant to say it in a neutral voice, but his words got husky somewhere. “Because once you are, I mean to use you. Could be you won’t like it.”

“I think I’ll like it,” Claudia said tersely, though she was still pouting, still trying to look dead ahead instead of at him.

“You’ll like it,” Sofia purred, going to her knees to tug down Claudia’s bloomers. “If you don’t, I’ll throw his cojones out the window.”

Thorne didn’t jump, but he did say “You could’ve told me that before we started” more as an exclamation than a carefully composed statement.

“I have every faith in you,” Sofia assured him. Claudia’s bloomers were now below her hips, under her high buttocks. Just a faint dusting of hair where Claudia was woman. Thorne wondered if Sofia had trimmed her or if the Vergaras were just naturally sparse there. “And in Claudia. A Vergara can inspire a man to greatness!”

Thorne fisted a hand in Claudia’s unbound hair. Forced her head back. Let her feel the power of him, able to manhandle her slender body, overpower her no matter what Sofia said. He saw the fear in Claudia’s eyes. Then the excitement.

“Last chance,” Thorne told her, his voice a rasp. Then he forced levity. “You can still go off and be a schoolmarm.”

“I want to be a whore,” Claudia said, looking up into his eyes. “I want to be your whore.”

“Oh, nena,” Sofia sighed, her head still down at Claudia’s newly formed nakedness like she wanted as close a look as possible at what would happen to it.

Thorne took her into his arms, but it was Claudia’s mouth that found his—the meeting fast and easy and sweet. Her eagerness both surprised and didn’t surprise him. It was the same as Sofia’s, he realized. Just in another woman, where he didn’t expect it.

She pressed herself to his body, his groin, like she wanted it to complete her now, now. The same impatience showed when Thorne was unbuckling his shirt. She simply tore it off him, and Sofia helped her. Claudia kissed him and Sofia pulled at his boots and someone’s hands were in the way when he went to unbuckle his belt.

“I can take my own clothes off,” he told them.

“Not quick enough!” they both said at the same time.

Then they had him naked and both their gazes were down on his manhood. Sofia flushed red—she would’ve liked to have him again, and she unconsciously fanned herself as she sought to bring her body under control, to make sure that this was Claudia’s quinceañera and not her own.

Her own moment of womanhood had been forgettable; memorable largely for how disappointing it was. She wouldn’t ruin Claudia’s. Instead, she would savor what a wonderful experience her niece was about to have.

Claudia, however, ran her tongue nervily over her lips. “I don’t think… I am big enough. It can’t fit. You are too much.”

“No man is too much,” Sofia told her, taking hold of Thorne with fingers as delicate as butterfly wings. “He’ll be just right. You’ll see.”

“Can’t we find someone smaller?” Claudia whispered.

Sofia laughed. “It is not hard to find someone smaller. The trick is to find someone as muy macho as Mr. Thorne. And he knows how to use it, too. Let him use it, Claudia. Once you know how good it feels, then you will understand. Pleasure takes sacrifice.”

Thorne drew her to him gently, holding her loosely enough that she relaxed at the soft pressure, relaxed more when he rubbed her body with his hands. Her taut muscles uncoiled and she leaned against him, her breasts nestled into his chest hair.

He kissed along the crown of her head, not passionately like he’d attacked her lips, but softly, soothingly, letting each little caress score on her body and give voice to the pleasure seeping into her. He knew he didn’t have to force her—only get her to listen to her body. If it was anything like Sofia’s, it would soon scream at her to give in.

He lowered her to the rug beside the fire and kissed her lips, only a little roughly, mainly as a bridge to keep the connection while his hands molded her breasts, making the nipples so hard that she tensed with pain at how erect they were, all the feeling generated when his callused fingers were on them. Then his hand was down at her flat belly, following the lines of her hips until he was where she was moist. He circled his finger there and she got even wetter, until her slight hips were pushing at his hand, wanting the contact, wanting even more.

“Admit it,” Sofia breathed in her ear. “You need it. It will be even better than this—and even if this hurt, you would still want more of it, Verdad?”

“Si,” Claudia trilled. “But it won’t hurt much, will it?”

“It will hurt as much as it hurts,” Sofia said. “But he will make it hurt nice. He will make it hurt so you won’t know how you ever thought pain was a bad thing.”

Thorne didn’t know if Sofia was speaking from personal experience or just making a Barnum of herself like she would for any sex she was selling. But he knew he felt like a cannon with the fuse almost burnt down. So while he tried to calm his ardor—hard to do when the only thing crowding his thoughts besides Claudia was Sofia—he slid a finger into the niece, testing how tight she was, how far he could go. Then slipping his finger back out to test her again. How loose she’d become now, if she was any wetter than she’d been the last time.

“Oh yes,” Claudia gasped. “Oh yes, please—that’s just your finger?”

Stroking and slipping, petting and pushing, he wore down her resistance until he knew she was ready for a second finger to enter her. Claudia winced at suddenly being penetrated twice over, but her eyes when she looked at him were clouded with passion and her hips were beginning to move with a life of their own.

Her hands flailed about, reaching down for his cock, but Sofia took care of that. She grabbed Claudia’s wrists and held them down amidst her disheveled hair, keeping Claudia steady. Thorne settled between her legs and found the openness waiting for him. He pressed into her as gently as he could, then stopped. She was too narrow for him, not letting him in the way an experienced woman would open for him.

But Claudia was too far gone to stop now. With a determined look on her face, she tossed her hips upward—her mouth flew open in shock when the feeling she herself had tried for ended up overwhelming her.

He was sunk into her and the pain of being pierced suffused her. Sofia rained little kisses on Claudia’s flushed face, comforting her as Thorne wasn’t sure he’d be able. Either it worked or it was a wasted effort: almost immediately Claudia was swirling as tightly around Thorne’s manhood as the stripes on a barber pole, her little hips pumping and thrusting and twisting.

Thorne bore down into her with masculine certainty. Slowly grinding her to the ground with the fullness of his entry. It seemed to take a very long time before he felt his balls come to a rest on her quivering ass.

Claudia was thrumming steadily, tossing her sweat-soaked face from side to side, crying out in her native tongue or in no time at all. Then he felt her come, a shudder going through all of her, exploding through her from where his coarse belly hair met her dewy pubic thatch all the way to the contortions of her face, which now reached a zenith. Eyes shut, teeth clenched, nostrils flaring—“Too much! Too much!”