Page 45 of My Darling Clementine

“Get ready,” Clem said, then rose behind Kizzy, grasped her waist, and pushed her groin into her hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall.

“Ouch!” shouted Kizzy, pretending shocked pain. “Ow, wait, ow…” She took a deep breath before clutching the blanket with tight fingers, crying out, “Ow, oh slow, please go slow…” She shrieked as Clem did it again, grinning over her shoulder as they set up a steady rhythm. “Oh, oh, oh,” she grunted between strokes.

“You’re making me crazy,” cried Clem, blurting out the truth as she enjoyed the sight of Kizzy bouncing on the bed before her. “Yes, yes, do that. God girl, that’s good.”

Kizzy responded, bouncing back into her with more and more vigor. “Oh, Clem,” she cried out every few moments, moving her hips and rolling them in tantalizing circles against her groin. Her moans grew deeper, faster, and more insistent, very realistic.

Clem’s heart raced. Oh God, if just listening to her makes me this eager, how long would I last if I were inside her? A delightful image developed in her mind’s eye, of Kizzy in the same position before her, spread wide and naked. “Lord help me,” she cried as the vision took hold and blood rushed to her center. “I can’t wait.”

She tossed Kizzy up and onto the mattress, spread her knees wide, and pulled her close. Clem grabbed her hips, rocking and rubbing, picking up speed. Even through several layers of clothing, her lust grew with each creaking bedspring and tap of the headboard against the wall.

On her hands and knees, Kizzy pushed back into Clem with just as much enthusiasm, tossing her head from side to side, long hair flying. Piercing eyes twinkled over her shoulder as she licked plump lips before shouting, “Oh, oh, Clem!”

With a grin, her wicked wife cried out as if beside herself. “What… oh, God, what are… you doing… to me?” Her voice rose higher, shriller. “Oh, Clem,” Kizzy declared, “that feels so good now. Don’t stop, darling, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.” Her panting grew faster and faster as her body tensed in anticipation. “That’s it, oh, faster, oh yes, harder, that’s it, yes!”

Clem doubled her speed, her grunts louder with each shove.

Kizzy tucked her head in the bed cover and keened. Her voice became shrill before she threw back her head and howled, “Ah-woo!” and gave a most convincing imitation of an orgasm. “Yes… yes, Clem… yes!”

Kizzy is giving me a reputation as a great lover.

That realization sent Clem up and over the edge. With the unmistakable growl of a husband claiming a wife, she grabbed Kizzy’s hips and pulled her close, stroking into her, rubbing her johnson between her legs and groaning out her name for a long, satisfied moment. She ended with a convulsive rock, rock, rock, for good measure. She fell down on top of Kizzy, and the headboard tapped the wall one last time. They tumbled together, both of them breathing hard, laughing, and shushing each other.

They heard Mr. Bates downstairs call, “A toast to the bride and groom!” followed by a round of cheers, hooting, and clapping. Jimmy started his last set of the evening with a raucous tune. It sounded as if everyone in the world was dancing.

“There, you see?” Clem smoothed loose strands of hair from Kizzy’s bemused face. “It wasn’t that hard to fool all those people.”

“Do you think every new couple does what we did? Pretend like that, so people aren’t listening when you actually do it for the first time?” Kizzy sat up and began unbraiding the small crown of hair circling her head.

“Or maybe they take care of first times before the ceremony. Allow me,” said Clem, kneeling behind her on the bed, dexterous fingers separating sections, smoothing long tresses. “People have preconceived notions of how others will act. If you stick to their expectations, no one looks close enough to get suspicious.” She kissed a bare shoulder. “We looked as they expected, did the things they expected, and they have a solid impression of us based entirely upon their own suppositions.”

“Not solely,” Kizzy laughed. “You really did think everything through to the last detail. That was an excellent imitation of a climax.”

“I might say the same for you,” said Clem, moving closer, “except I have my doubts it was faked.” She licked Kizzy’s shoulder. “As I undress you,” she nibbled her ear, “I’ll check between your legs to see how wet you are.” Kizzy quivered under her hands.

“There,” she said, pushing the cascade of hair over one shoulder. “Now I’ll undo your buttons.” With each one, she kissed the widening expanse of bare back. “Why, what’s this?” she asked, finding the laces of the corset.

“The latest style from Europe,” Kizzy sighed. “Untie and relax the laces for me, and I’ll show you how it works.” When they were loose, she took a deep, freeing breath. “Sort of like your linen, but not,” Kizzy laughed, rising to stand beside the bed. She motioned to Clem to sit still. “You stay there and watch.”

With a short shiver and teasing smile, she tugged the lowered sleeves until the unbuttoned gown dropped, collapsing at her feet, leaving her standing in new blue silk pantaloons lined with lace, and her loosened corset. Arms busy behind her as she undid the laces, her breasts fell out, rising free as the heavy contraption of whalebone came loose. Teasing, Kizzy held it up in front of her breasts to cover them, then turned around, showing her back as she dropped it on top of the growing heap of her clothing.

“Stay like that a moment, beautiful,” said Clem, eyes drinking in her delicious form, the opening in her silk pantaloons providing a delightful view of her round bottom. “I like these pretty wedding dainties.”

“Do you?” asked Kizzy, moving to see herself in the mirror. Shock and outrage crossed her face.

“What? Eek!” she cried, both hands plunging down to cover the opening to her crotch. She wheeled around and saw the rear side was just as open, and split her hands, front and back. “Oh, my God!” she shrieked, blushing bright red. “I had no idea. I just thought they were soft and light!” Shuddering with distressed laughter, she covered her face with both hands.

Clem laughed, unconcerned about how a bridegroom’s delight might sound to the partiers below. “So, you didn’t know what you showed me when the hoops sent your skirt up?” she teased. “It was a sight to behold, one I’ll never forget.” She rose from the bed and walked to Kizzy, who stood trembling with shock. Running hands up and down tense arms, she massaged with gentle fingers. “And shall treasure always.” Clem folded the flustered young woman into her arms, holding her close.

“These aren’t mine. I’m not this type of woman.” Rigid against Clem’s shoulder, a sound half laugh, half sob escaped Kizzy, who then hiccupped. “My bloomers aren’t open; I don’t wear things like this.”

Clem almost laughed at Kizzy’s sudden embarrassment about pantaloons after faking such passion a moment earlier. But, holding the unnerved girl, she remembered Kizzy’s mortification earlier when she explained the town’s expectations.

Raised religious, she’s probably never been anywhere but her finishing school. Having to put on that act was humiliating, and those frou-frou things aren’t like her church-girl bloomers. The women who dressed her weren’t her mother and friends, and I am not a normal husband, which she never bargained for to begin with. I didn’t give her much choice.

Kizzy trembled as she suppressed another sob, followed by a choked-off giggle, and another hiccup, lip quivering. “I’m just b-be-being silly.”

Standing in the center of the room, Clem wrapped her in protective arms. “No, you’re not. In fact, I think you’re quite a woman. At barely eighteen, banished by your father in a public denunciation, you didn’t cry and beg to stay; you struck out on your own.”