Encounters with John Wayne

Diana Maitland was in the middle of one of her dreams about John Wayne again. He had just laid her down on the bed, kissing her, his hands exploring all over her body and she was begging him to fuck her. She could actually feel his large hands cupping her breasts and moving lower to stroke his fingers in her pussy and...wait a second. Something about this dream felt all too real...

She started to become aware of a large, warm body pressed against her back, with rough, but gentle hands roaming over her. The bedspread had been pushed off the bed and the sheet was down around their waists. She twisted her body onto her back, turning her head to try to see who it was, but it was too dark to see his face; she couldn't see anything but shapes and shadows from the soft glow filtering in through the windows. She had no idea what time it was.

Then she heard the voice that she had heard a thousand times in her dreams say, "I need you, Diana."

She moaned, then said breathlessly, "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up!"

He heard the longing in her voice, and he brought his hands up to her face and stroked her cheek with his fingers, and said, "This isn't a dream...it's a dream come true...I need you, little girl!"

"Then take me, big man, because I need you, too!" she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

The passion in her voice was almost his undoing. He had planned to make slow, sweet love to her, but she sounded desperate again, and every time he heard that, it would just escalate the urgency of his need to satisfy her. He groaned and crushed his lips to hers, forcing her mouth open to thrust his tongue inside. Then he remembered he had yet to put his mouth on her breasts as he had been yearning to do.

He dragged his mouth from hers, trailing it down her jaw to her neck, kissing and licking the hollow where her neck and shoulder meet, delighting in her moans of pleasure from it. Then he kissed and licked his way down her chest, paying special attention to the sensitive areas along her collarbones and the valley between her breasts. She was eliciting soft moans the whole time. Then, he took a deep breath and worked his mouth from between her breasts to the soft undersides, and then to the peak of her left breast. He was mostly using his tongue, but when he reached her nipple, he wrapped his lips completely around it and the areola and sucked softly, then fluttered his tongue quickly and softly over the tip. She moaned loudly and arched her back, forcing more of her breast against his face.

She loved the feeling of his mouth on her breast, but it was just increasing the fire in her pussy and she needed to feel him inside her again; she needed that connection again. She grabbed his head and lifted it toward her face, and said, "I love the way you suck my tits, but, right now, I need you to put your big dick in my pussy and fuck me hard!" What she had really wanted to say was, "Make love to me; make me yours; tell me you'll never love another woman like this again!" But when the thoughts had popped into her head, they scared her and she felt too vulnerable.

"Oh, God!" he groaned. She had complete control over him—he was powerless to refuse her anything.

He kicked the sheet down to their feet, then planted himself on his knees between her legs. She lifted her legs so that her thighs were straddling her torso, her hips were pointed upward and her pussy was stretched as open as possible. He positioned the head of his dick at her opening and he could feel she was already sopping wet and hot. He couldn't hold back and he thrust his hips as hard as he could and buried his thick shaft completely in her. She half screamed and groaned loudly, then begged him in her desperate voice, "Fuck me, big man. Please, fuck me hard!"

He couldn't stand it; she had his blood boiling, and suddenly he felt like an animal in heat and he just started pounding his dick in and out of her pussy as hard as he could. She was moaning loudly and just kept saying, "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

He started to growl, he was fucking her as hard as could in that position, but if she wanted it harder, then by God, he was going to give it to her harder! He pulled completely out of her on his knees and backed up just far enough to grab her body and completely flip her over onto her stomach. Then he reached down and grasped her hips, lifting her ass up in the air. He leveraged his right foot up so that he was kneeling on his left knee and right foot. Then he lined his dick up with her pussy and rammed it into her again, with one hard thrust.

She screamed, and he held still for a moment, completely buried in her, and growled, "Was that hard enough for you, little girl?"

She groaned, "Yes, oh God, yes! Fuck me with your big dick! Ram it into me as hard as you can!"

He groaned, he could not refuse her at the moment, but he wanted to make her cum as quickly as possible because he needed more than just to fuck her. So, he did as she asked and started ramming his thick shaft in and out of her as fast and hard as he could, while grasping her hips for leverage. She was moaning loudly, and saying, "Yes, yes, yes..."

Then, instead of just grasping her hips, he started using the strength of his arms to actually pull her hips backward as he thrust forward, literally "pounding" into her. The sound of their flesh slapping against each other driving him even harder, and she had started another even louder moan, "Ohhhhh...!"

Suddenly, he had a burst of energy and his hips almost doubled their thrusting speed and power. Then she screamed again, like she had before in the shower. Only this time, her body responded by using all her energy to thrust back against him even harder while her pussy convulsed around his dick, and she continued to scream. He kept thrusting for all he was worth, until he felt her body go limp, then he stopped his thrusts as quickly as possible and pulled his still hard dick out her, and her body just crumpled.

He immediately laid down beside her, wrapping his arms and his body around hers; he could feel her chest heaving, and he asked worriedly, "Oh, God, little girl, are you all right?" as he stroked her hair away from her face with his left hand.

She slowly nodded yes, as her chest continued to heave. He watched her carefully as she slowly recovered to normal breathing. Then she turned toward him and her body curled up slightly, and she sighed heavily against his chest, but it didn't sound like a contented sigh. Something didn't feel right to him, and he needed to know what it was.

"What's wrong, little girl?" he asked softly.

"Nothing," she squeaked; it sounded like she was crying.

He leaned back from her and put his left hand to her face, which he could just see, outlined in the soft shadows, and used his thumb to trace her cheek—it was wet; she was crying. Suddenly, he was afraid that he had physically injured her and she was afraid to tell him. "Diana, tell me the truth—did I hurt you?"

"No!" Then a sob escaped her, and her body started to shake as she began to cry harder.

He didn't really believe he had hurt her; he thought he knew enough about a woman's body to know if she was in pleasure or in pain. And everything had seemed to indicate that she had felt nothing but pleasure. So why was she crying? His chest started to feel tight as he felt her body shaking; he gathered her to him and held her tightly while she cried softly.

When she calmed down, he pulled back from her just far enough so that he could put his hands to her face, and he used the sheet to wipe the wetness from her tears away. The he tucked her head to his chest just under his chin, and said in his most gently commanding voice, "Now, little girl, tell me why you were crying."

She hesitated, and then said, "I'm not quite sure how to explain it."

"Explain what?" he asked.

"Why I'm upset!" she exclaimed.

She's upset about something (no kidding!)—she was not going to make this easy. He asked, "Was it something I did?" She said no. "Was it something I didn't do?" She was silent.

He asked gently, "What does that mean, Diana? How could you be upset by something I didn't do? As far as I can remember, I did everything you asked me to, even though some of it was not what I wanted to do!"

"I don't know!" she said desperately. "It just didn't feel like I wanted it to!"

"What didn't feel like you wanted it to?"

"The fucking," she admitted quietly.

Ah, now he felt like he was getting somewhere. "What was it supposed to feel like?"

"Like...like...I can't explain it!" she exclaimed sadly.

He sighed, "OK, I think you've already admitted that, at least physically, it was good for you...right?" He could feel her head nodding yes. He continued, "Then that must mean something about it was not emotionally right for you, is that it?" Again, she nodded yes. Softly he asked, "What was emotionally wrong about it for you, Diana?"

"I didn't feel...the connection...I wanted to feel with you," she half whispered.

"Well then, we certainly do agree on that," he stated.

She was silent for a moment as she sniffled a couple times. Then she asked worriedly, "Was it bad for you?"

"No, Diana, I could never feel 'bad' about anything we do. It's just that, when I woke up and saw you sleeping next to me, I just felt at that moment that I needed to make love to you...slowly and passionately. But it seemed you had other ideas—and I am almost powerless to resist anything you want me to do!"

She started to cry again, softly. He felt his chest tighten again, so he held her closer, and asked huskily, "Why are you crying again? Please, little girl, you're breaking my heart, tell me what is wrong?"

She tried to take a deep breath, to calm down and stop crying, but she couldn't breathe because she needed to blow her nose. She started to cough a little and managed, to choke out, "I need to go blow my nose!"

So, he released her and she rolled off the side of the bed and started to make her way to the bathroom, and he asked her gently, "Are you OK?"

She whispered back, "I'm fine now, I'll be right back," and she went into the bathroom and closed the door, then winced as she turned on the light. She needed to go to the bathroom as well, so she blew her nose while she was sitting on the toilet. She felt like such an idiot, she had let her fears from the past several years keep her from asking him to make love to her, when it was what he had wanted, too.

When she closed the bathroom door, Wayne sat up and turned the bedside light on, then grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it, then leaned back on some pillows, waiting for her. He was still worried as to why, exactly, she was so upset, and he hoped she would explain when she came out—if not, he would figure out some way to get it out of her!

When she was done, she splashed some cold water on her face to try to help rinse away the evidence of her crying, and then blotted her face dry. She turned the light out before she opened the door so he wouldn't be able to see her face, but when she opened it, she saw he had turned the bedside light on and was smoking a cigarette. He was staring directly at her with a worried look on his face, so she smiled at him to try to let him know she was all right.

She owed him an explanation, so she started to speak as she walked toward the bed, "I'm so sorry I acted like that—I never wanted to do anything to upset you or make you feel that you upset or hurt me in any way!" She had reached the side of the bed that she got up from and sat down next to him, twisting her body and leaning on her left arm to look at him. Then she continued, "This was all my fault because...I was afraid to tell you what I really wanted; how I really felt," she lowered her eyes with her last statements. Then she looked back up at him again, the passion returning to her eyes as she admitted softly, "I wanted you to make love to me, too." She saw his eyes start to glow, then she felt nervous to admit this next part, so she lowered her eyes again, and continued, "I wanted to tell you to make me yours, and I wanted you to tell me that you would never...love another woman like you love me..." Tears started to shimmer in her eyes, and she was too afraid to look up to see his reaction.

His reaction was...delayed; he wasn't quite sure he had heard her correctly, and then he realized he was starving for oxygen because he had forgotten to breathe—again! He had the wind knocked out him the moment he saw her, and now she had just done it again by telling him...what? That she wanted him to love her? Did he love her? His immediate first reaction to her had been pure lust, but he knew now that there was a lot more to his feelings for her than just that but...was it love? He put his cigarette out as he searched his feelings for a few moments, and when he glanced at her face, he noticed a single tear rolling down her right cheek and that she was trembling slightly.

Then, it felt as if a lightning bolt pierced his brain and his heart at the same time; she was scared. He remembered she had told him that she was afraid to be vulnerable to a man because of that bastard who stole her heart and her virginity, and then just dumped her. And she had just admitted to him that she wanted his love...did that mean she loved him? He reached out his right hand and gently placed his fingers on her chin, nudging it slightly to get her to look at him. When she lifted her eyes, he saw her fear, but the passion was also still smoldering underneath the sheen of tears.

"Diana, he asked huskily as he kept his fingers under her chin so she couldn't look away, "do you love me?"

She couldn't speak from the tightness in her throat, so she slowly nodded her head yes, then managed to croak, "All my life!"

He closed his eyes and his hand on her chin lowered; he already knew she did, and he had wondered if she would ever admit it, because he knew she had never started this...thing...with him intending to get him to marry her. She had just harbored her love for him thinking, as she had said before, that she would never be able to have "the real thing." She never expected that this chance to meet him would become a dream come true for her because...he had to have her the second he saw her...and he still wanted her, craved her, needed her...loved her? He opened his eyes; he already knew he did, he just hadn't wanted to think about it because he had no idea how this...thing...was going to end up. They would have to discuss that at some point, but right now, he needed to show her that he had never, and probably would never, love another woman the way that he loves her.

When he had opened his eyes, he saw her eyes were closed again. She had a slight frown on her face, and he knew it was probably because she was afraid of how he was reacting to her admission of love for him. He leaned toward her and kissed her softly on her lips, lingering for a few seconds until she opened her eyes and met his passionate ones. He saw her passion increase as she returned his gaze, then he closed his eyes and deepened the kiss slowly. Then he leaned toward her with his right arm around her shoulders, forcing her to lay down as he leaned partially over her. He continued to kiss her, deeply, tenderly and passionately for several minutes.

Her mind was reeling; he hadn't said a word to her, and yet, she was sure that if he did not love her, he would have told her because he was too honorable a man to toy with her emotions. And everything he was doing at this moment sure felt like he was "making love" to her. His deep, tender kisses while stroking her hair, her face, her neck, her shoulders and down her back with his large and firm, but gentle hands, were making her heart flutter as well as igniting the fire between her legs again.

She couldn't help but respond to him with equal passion, and she put every bit of her love and desire for him in her kisses, and by wrapping her arms around his body and clutching him to her as tightly as she could. She never wanted to let him go...but she also feared that, for some reason, she could never be with him forever... She pushed that thought away, she would figure it out later; right now, she needed him to love her and that's exactly what it felt like he was doing.

Even though his dick was still rigid since he had not cum during that recent hard fuck, he was having no problem keeping his lust tempered because he wanted her to know, in no uncertain terms, that he was "making love" to her. And she seemed to be responding in kind; their mouths melded perfectly together—lips moving in harmony, tongues stroking in rhythm, and soft moans of passion that seemed to echo each other.

He slowly broke their kiss, opening his eyes to look at her beautiful face, then he lifted his head just far enough so that he could see all of it. She slowly opened her eyes, and he could see her love and desire for him shining in their depths, all traces of her tears gone. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as he stared into her eyes and stroked the side of her face and neck, and said in his tender, gravelly voice, "I love you, too, little girl. I have never loved another woman the way I love you—with a passion that I have never felt before, and probably never will again in my life!" He saw the look in her eyes deepen, and the shimmering of tears returned.

All she could think was, "Oh, my God; I thought it was true, but to hear him actually saying those words to me...and it's not a dream! If I died right now, I would be happy for the rest of eternity, no matter whether I ended up in heaven or hell!!!" She slowly started to smile and brought her right hand around his side from his back to stroke his chest, then moved up to his left shoulder and the side of his neck. Then she said softly, "Make love to me. I'm already yours; I've belonged to you my whole life, and you branded my pussy with your big cock the first time you fucked me. I'll never want or need any man the way I do you—ever again!" She saw the desire burning in his eyes increase when she said he had branded her, and she could feel him breathing heavier.

Her words and the look in her eyes was almost making him lose control again, but he was determined that if she thought he had branded her pussy, then he was going to make her understand that she had also branded his cock. Yes, he has always enjoyed sex, but she is the only woman who has ever made him crave it—especially the need to feel his thick shaft buried in her tight, warm pussy. She says she has always loved him, and there definitely is no doubt of her desire for him, because her pussy seems to get wet whenever he just looks at her! And she is always so wet for him, so he has never hurt her with his thick cock, unlike a few women in his past who were just a little too tight and could never get wet enough, no matter how hard he tried to stimulate them.

Yes, she had definitely branded him as well. He reached up and clasped his hand over hers on his neck, turned his head and brought her palm to his mouth and kissed and licked the palm of her hand, and then trailed his lips and tongue to her inner wrist. He heard her inhale sharply and he looked down at her eyes, seeing her desire intensifying. Then he took her hand and guided it down his body to wrap hers and his hand around his throbbing shaft and stroking it a couple times, causing him to groan as he said, "You're the one who has branded me, little girl. I told you that it felt like your pussy had been made just for me—and I meant exactly that. If it were possible, I would slide my big, thick cock deep into your lovely, soft pussy as far as I could, wrap myself around you and never let go. If I died like that, I wouldn't care if I ended up in hell as long as I could carry the memory of how heavenly it feels to have my body wrapped around and inside of you."