Isabellaís Dream © Copyright,, May 2000
All rights reserved Ė copy prohibited in any manner

Not for use by other sites Ė Part of my Private Erotica World

The world had always been far to confusing for her delicate being. No one quite understood her need for fantasy but then no one could ever imagine how in her world of security and fantasy he came to her every night.

On that particular night Isabella wore a white nightgown reaching to her ankles of the softest, warmest cotton. The nights in a small cabin on the prairie were cold, leaving no comfort to those who didnít dress for the cold nights. Isabella went to the dresser taking out a pair of knee socks and then reached for a heavy quilt. Making her way down the stairs from the loft she walked across the wood planked floors toward the large room that was both at one end the kitchen and at the other end a living room with a large stone fireplace. She placed a large kettle of water on the logs in the fire to warm the air with moist heat.

It had been a night when the wind howled through the canyon and raged over the prairies. Isabella had shuttered all the windows and stoked the large fire to life. She had looked at the sky that early evening and knew the winds would be screaming in a few hours. She had already made sure the horses were snug in the barn and the ranch animals were secure. She waited quietly in her cabin to wait the windstorm she knew was on its way.

Sitting in the large oak rocking chair she snuggled beneath the quilt, in front of the fire. The fire danced on the logs and she could hear the wind start to pick up outside. She didnít care - it had been a long day and she knew all on her ranch was safe and bolted down. Isabella gazed into the flames as they jumped from log to log sending little sparks up the chimney in a glow like fire-flies escaping a jar. The fire warmed the cabin, as the prairie storm grew and the wind slammed against the shutters. She relaxed knowing she only needed to wait out the storm and a good nightís sleep would help her get ready for her chores in the morning. Sitting and watching the flames she began to run her brush through her long chestnut hair. Each slow stroke felt like a loverís caress as the brush slid sensually through her hair. She did this ritual every night while relaxing under her quilt Ė the last thing before sliding into sleep and her dream.

As she gazed at the flames lapping at the large logs her eyes gently began to close. The brush moved slower, until her hand gently let it drop. A few times she quickly opened her eyes when the brush fell and she realized she was falling asleep. Finally, with the warmth from the fire seeping into her body she closed her eyes and slid into the dream that made her nights bearable. It was the same man she seemed to always dream of. She would be sleeping in front of the fire and she would hear his horse whinny as he came to a halt in front of her cabin. Always he would ride up to her cabin at nightfall, on the most magnificent black horse. She would rise from the oak rocker and walking to the front door open it and walk to the rider and horse. As strong and powerful as the stallion was it would gently nuzzle her hand as his rider dismounted. Not even tying the horse to the hitching rail the horse would walk to the water trough and then back to the rail and wait for a command. She would hear the riderís gruff voice say to his horse, "Be back in a while." The horse would snort and trot off to the barn in search of hay and oats.

She would walk back to the doorway and watch him walking up the stairs. When he took his hat off and said, "Hi, pretty lady. Iíve missed you." She would walk into his arms and be wrapped tightly to his body in a hug. Walking into the small cabin his size seemed to make her seem small as they walked into the living room. Isabella was far from a small woman. She was tall and large boned. She had always hated being that big when all the women seemed small and petite. But, they lived in town and had a very gentile life. She lived on a ranch and had to wire fences, feed chickens and do things the other women would laugh at a woman doing. It hadnít always been like that. As she sat with him in front of the fire she thought of when her father and mother had lived on the ranch but the fever took them five years ago. Now, well over the marrying age she was considered a spinster by some, by others just that crazy Isabella woman that lived on the prairie. On the rare occasions she took the buggy to town for supplies she would see the women looking at her and snickering and whispering behind their hands. She overheard one of them say she had the build of one of the loggers at the camps. She never answered but was always polite and glad to escape back to her cabin and the freedom of her ranch.

His deep voice questioned, "Isabella, what are you thinking with such a frown between those pretty green eyes?"

She smiled, "Oh nothing, just silliness about the women in town."

His laugh was deep, "Those chicken legged women? Heck, woman, they couldnít shoot a rifle like you or back a man up when he needed a good shot fired!" His arm snaked around her shoulder pulling her down onto the blanket in front of the fire.

His voice got deeper, "And those chicken skinny ninnies couldnít love a man like me like I like to be loved by a woman. So, Isabella, are you now over that silliness?"

Her arms went around his neck as his hands began to pull up her ivory nightgown to find the softness of her body. His large, calloused hands gently pulled her nightgown from her body. The fire threw a golden glow on her already tan skin as he quickly kicked off his boots and stripped his jeans and shirt from his body. Pulling her roughly under his body his lips came down on hers. Slowly the fire warmed her as his lips caressed hers until she parted her lips. Low moans of pleasure filled the small cabin as his hand captured her large breast and squeezed the soft flesh. He pulled his mouth from hers and whispered, " Beautiful and big. You my woman, Isabella?"

Her whimpered yes made him lick her already hardened nipples. He kissed and fondled her ample breastsÖsuckingÖnipping at them. Taunting her nipples with kisses and squeezing her breasts together he suckledÖteasedÖmolded. Until her moans turned to whimpers of need and she whispered, "Derek, please, I need you."

His whispered chuckle was teasing, "For what Isabella? To help fix the fencing? To fix the barn? For what?"

She didnít want to need a man this much. She didnít want the heartache when they left for some pretty little woman in town from a proper family. She didnít want to want him but her body betrayed her. She answered, "I need you. I need you to make me feel like a woman."

His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it, "Oh youíre all woman alright! And a damn fine one at that! My woman, Isabella, and donít you forget that!"

She felt tingling sensations as his body was sliding lower following his hands and lips as they trailed fire down her body. She heard herself whimpering for more as his hands were pushing her soft fleshy thighs apart and his lips were kissing at the juncture of her thighs. She reached down to pull his lips from her private flesh but he pushed them away as he kissed the brown soft curls between her legs. She whimpered as his tongue parted her pussy lips and she felt him licking at her. Her juices were flowing to his lips as he sucked on her and brought her private flesh to swollen need. She moaned deep within herself as his finger began to insert and push into her slick wetness. Two fingers pushed in and she arched pushing down on them. His tongue licked and pressed on her clit sending torrents of shivers through her body. She was moist and soft under his tongue. Her hips arched upward bringing her pussy freely to him for the taking. She felt him plunging his fingers into her over and over. She was gyrating on his fingers. She was hot and wet and wanted to come for this man. As his fingers delved deeper and stretched her with each ramming into her he sucked harder on her clit. The fire was hot but Isabella was whimpering in need until she couldnít hold back any longer. She felt him holding his mouth on her clit. She felt him sucking it harder and harder. The rode his mouth as it brought her to the brink. Her hands grasped his head holding his lips tight to her clit as she screamed his name into the fire. Her body in a final urgent thrust felt like it had exploded in a thousand pieces as she climaxed over and over.

She felt an exhausted wonderful sleep taking over as he pulled her into his arms and she tasted her wetness on his lips. The last thing she heard as she fell asleep was his deep breathing and whispered, "Such silliness woman. Youíre better than the lot of them!" Her sleepy whisper was barely audible, "Iím glad youíre a dream so you never leave me." She always heard him answer, "Isabella, Iím not a dream. You just say that every time."

As the night gave way to the dawn she woke to find herself alone in her cabin. She looked around for a sign of him but there was none. The thought she could smell the faint scent of his after-shave but then she thought it was just the smell of the morning flowers from the garden. Rising she went to change and drove to town to pick up the monthís supplies. She wore a dress even though it interfered with driving a wagon properly but she had learned to only wear menís jeans when no one was coming to the ranch. She walked into the feed store and greeted the owner, "Hi, Mr. Jenkins, How is Mrs. Jenkins doing?"

Mr. Jenkins had always treated Isabella like a daughter, "Sheís doing just fine but was just asking about you. How about coming to dinner Ė Our nephew is down in town today from up in the mountains."

She laughed, "The mountains? He lives up on Gentry Mountains? I didnít think anyone could live there?"

Mr. Jenkins grinned, "Other than Derek Ė no man in his right mind would want to live up there. Iíd never say this to the wife but her nephew is a bit touched in the head!"

Isabella thought it an odd coincidence about the name but didnít answer anything. They both turned to look at the door when it opened and a cold chill came over her body at the man that walked into the feed store.

Mr. Jenkins yelled to his wife, "Martha, youíd wanna be getting on out here to the front. That nephew of yours just walked in! Derek get your hat off your head and say hello to Isabella."

A slow smile broke over his face as he said, "Hi, pretty lady."

Mr. Jenkins cut in, "That ainít no way to greet a lady you donít know!"

Derek walked up to her and smiled. She stood their not saying a word just staring at her dream. Her mind was racing how could he be standing there when it had been a dream now for months.

She stammered, "Pleased to meet you. You live up on the mountain?"

His finger was running over her lips, "Yes, Maím During the day I live up on the mountain but the nights I live on the prairie. A small cabin with a big fireplace."

She repeated as if in a trance, "A small cabin. Big fireplace."

His voice was deep and it was the same voice she longed for every night, "Would you consider spending some time during the day up in the mountains? Nights on the prairie. Then days on the prairie and nights in the mountains?"

Mr. Jenkinís voice cut in, "Derek, stop speaking foolishness to Isabella. Isabella donít you mind him none. He had fever for a few months and hasnít been the same since!"

Isabella felt as if she had fever. She felt hot and wonderful and confused. She felt his finger still running over her lips and she gazed into his eyes whispering one word with all the need she had for this man, "Yes."

He pulled her into his arms answering, "Iím not a dream Isabella. Never was but you seemed to need that more than me being real. Iím real Isabella."

As his lips caressed hers she heard Mrs. Jenkins yell, "Derek, what are you doing?"

Mr. Jenkins answered, "Doing the first thing that has made sense if you ask me!"

Ignoring them they walked outside where his black stallion was waiting next to her wagon. She looked across the street at the women by the Church staring at her.

His voice cut into her thoughts, "Yep, damn chicken legged, the lot of them. Not like my woman at all and Iím damn glad woman! How about we go to that cabin of yours? We can come back later for dinner and the feed for the horses?"

Isabella laughed and then laughed harder, "Yes. You sure youíre not a dream. Youíre not going to leave?"

Derek winked at her, "Well, woman, tell ya what weíre gonna do. First Iím sure never gonna leave you. Second, how about we go up those stairs of yours to that loft in your cabin and Iíll prove I ainít no dream of yours."

Isabella knew he would always be with her and her nights and days would be filled with passion. She grinned at him and answered, "You have a lot of proving to do! We better get back to the cabin so you can start."

Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins came out on the store porch as Derek said to them, "Weíll make dinner tomorrow night instead of tonight. Iíve got a lot of proving to do."

Mrs. Jenkins said, "Derek, you ainít making any sense. Come back into the store!"

Mr. Jenkins just grinned at his nephew and said to his wife, "First time the manís made sense in years." Turning to them he said, "You two go on and git out of here and weíll see you tomorrow afternoon."

Derek laughed. Then turning to Isabella, who had already guided the horse and wagon into the street, he yelled, "Come on woman! I want to get to that proving!"

The black stallion and the horse and wagon raced out of town to the gasps of the petite, polite, chicken-legged women at the Church.