Chapter Text
It had been months since you started staying with the Van der Linde gang at Horseshoe Overlook, after being picked up on their way down the mountain from Colter. You were lucky they stopped when they saw your overturned wagon and discovered you, the only survivor of the crash, along with the bodies of your parents and brother. They got you to a doctor in Valentine, who was able to set your broken leg, and they allowed you to stay in the camp while the women of the gang kindly helped you recover. Ever since, you had been working around the camp trying to repay them for their kindness and earn your keep.
For the most part, you were happy living and working with the gang. Although it wasn’t easy dealing with the aftermath of the crash, you were glad to have people around you while you did so. Without them, you’d have nowhere to go, as your family had sold their home and were trying to head out west when they crashed on the mountainside.
Having lived with your parents until now, the experience of living in the camp was starkly different. Meeting all these new people from different backgrounds, with wild stories of criminal exploits and bounties on their heads was exhilarating. Perhaps even more exhilarating was being surrounded by dangerous attractive men. They were certainly nothing like the boys you’d known from home — the farm hands from up the road, the boys you’d gone to school with, your brother’s friends. Young, eager, and a little boring. It wasn’t that you were completely innocent; a few of those boys had been nice enough to fool around with a little, but you’d never gone all the way with any of them.
Being thrust into a world where you were around grown men was a little intimidating. At first you questioned whether something might be wrong with you, because some of the most innocent interactions with the men could make you start to get hot and bothered. Sometimes it was a man brushing past you when you were in their way, or sitting too close to you at the campfire, or grabbing your hand to help you off a horse. When you confided in Karen about it, she laughed out loud.
“You’re laughing at me? Come on, I’m serious! I’m startin’ to think I need to go to a doctor or something,” You whispered to her, dropping the laundry you were folding into the basket.
Karen stifled her laughter with a hand over her mouth. She put one arm around your shoulders and leaned closer to your ear to say, “You don’t need a doctor, you just need one of ‘em to take ya for a good tumble.” She patted you on the back and went back to pulling laundry off the line with a chuckle.
Your ears went red and you picked your unfolded shirt back up. “I can’t just do that, I haven’t done it before,” you said, hoping Karen wasn’t going to make too much fun of you.
“What?!” She asked, almost screeching.
“Shhh! What are you trying to do, tell the whole camp?” You moved closer to her to whisper.
“I’m sorry. But how old are you, at least 20, right?” She asked more quietly.
“Not polite to ask a lady’s age, Karen,” you said, turning away to put down your folded shirt.
“Psshh,” Karen rolled her eyes. “Well don’t you at least do it for yourself, then?” She asked.
Your cheeks flushed. “Of course I do, but not here — there’s no privacy,” you explained.
“You’ve been here for months,” Karen said, trying to suppress laughter. “And you wonder why you’re feelin’ all hot? Just take care of it when nobody’s around. You and Tilly got that tent, that’s plenty private.”
“Somehow I don’t think Tilly would agree with you on that count,” you said, finally letting yourself have a chuckle.
“When she’s not there, obviously,” Karen shook her head at you. “It’s either that or keep nearly creamin’ yourself every time Arthur and John look at you.”
“Hmm, well thanks for that information,” you said, throwing a shirt at her.
“What?” She asked, catching it.
“That you want both Arthur and John? I never mentioned any names, that was all you.” You smirked at her.
“Well what am I supposed to think, that you’re losin’ it over Bill?” Karen said with a laugh.
You joined in, but felt a little mean for it. “He’s not that bad,” you said. “A girl could do worse.”
Karen leaned close to you again to say, “That’s how I know you’re dick crazy, you’re entertainin’ the idea of fuckin’ Bill!”
“Shut up,” you said, playfully pushing her away.
That night while you were laying in your tent, you thought about Karen’s advice. Tilly was there in the tent, but she was sound asleep, snoring softly and facing the other way. Maybe you could just… no. You couldn’t relax enough to do it with someone so close. So you waited.
The next day, you were standing in front of the cash box talking to Mary Beth, who was trying to decide on some items to donate. You heard a voice behind you say, “Excuse me, dear,” and then felt large hands on your hips. You were shuffled off to one side as Dutch moved past you to look at the ledger. Your cheeks felt hot just from his touch, and the fact that he was standing in front of you with his broad shoulders and strong back bent forward over the ledger had your heart rate picking up. You quickly wrapped up your conversation with Mary Beth before she could notice a change in you and went off to the food wagon to wash dishes.
As you stood there scrubbing dishes, you couldn’t get that moment out of your mind. Did his fingers squeeze your hips just a little, or were you imagining it? Did he brush his leg against yours on purpose as he stepped past you?
I’m getting so horny it’s actually pathetic, you thought. For the rest of the day, you could hardly take your eyes off Dutch whenever he was in view. You hadn’t fully appreciated just how attractive he was before. His authority had always been attractive, since you first met him. The way he spoke and everyone listened, the way his word was final, appealed to you. But now you were noticing how attractive those hands were, now that they’d touched you. You wondered what the rest of his arms looked like, fully uncovered. And his chest, would it be strong and hairy and perfect to rest your head on, the way you were imagining? God, you just couldn’t stop imagining. You wanted to know what his hands felt like lower, on your ass. Higher, on your breasts. Would he be able to be gentle with those hands? Or maybe it would feel good if they were rougher, if he knew what he wanted and took it, unlike the hesitant young men you’d let close to you before.
That night, the girls decided to go into Valentine, and you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to finally get some time alone in your tent, so you stayed behind. You waited until those who hadn’t gone on the trip to town seemed occupied with evening activities, and then slipped off to be alone.
Dutch sauntered around the camp smoking a cigar, thinking. When he passed by some of the girls tents, he thought he heard something. Hadn’t they all gone into town? He stepped closer to where he heard the noise, and then quickly realized what he was hearing — soft, breathy moans, and words so quiet he couldn’t make them out. Even as quiet as it was, it was unmistakable — the sound of a woman in pleasure. He was about to step away when he heard his name.
“Dutch —” it was so quiet and almost covered by the breathy moan that followed it. But then he heard it again. “Please, Dutch, oh —”
He couldn’t stop the mischievous grin that spread across his face as he backed away and walked back to his tent. He was tempted to go into the tent and take you right there, but he knew this was not an opportunity to waste by rushing in. So he waited.
After getting some relief, it was much easier to focus and not be constantly thinking about the men around you. But after a few days, you found yourself looking at Dutch again and remembering how good it had been in your fantasy. You hoped you’d get another opportunity soon to touch yourself and think about him; as soon as that thought crossed your mind you felt extremely embarrassed, but you couldn’t deny it to yourself.
About a week after your alone time, there was another day where camp was nearly empty. Most of the men had gone on a robbery, Pearson and Sadie had taken the wagon for shopping, and most of the women had taken the opportunity to hitch a ride into town. The atmosphere was eerily quiet while you were washing dishes behind the food wagon, but you enjoyed being able to hear the birds. Your calm was disturbed suddenly when Dutch appeared in front of you.
“Miss?” he asked.
You looked up at him and went still, like a startled deer.
“Those can wait for a minute, I’d like to speak with you in my tent,” he said quickly, before turning and striding back to his tent.
The plate you were holding fell back into the dishwater with a slight splash due to how surprised you were. You quickly dried your hands and then walked over to Dutch’s tent, your heart beating fast. Dutch’s tent flaps were down, so you peeked through one of them and asked, “May I?”
“Come right in,” Dutch said from where he sat on his cot. As you did, he gestured to a chair across from him and said, “Please, take a seat.”
“I understand you’ve been with us for a few months now. Since just after Colter, right?” Dutch asked, his tone friendly.
“Yes, that’s right,” you replied, straightening your skirt as you sat.
“So it’s been a while since you were with your family and friends from home,” Dutch said sympathetically. “Have you made friends here?”
“Oh, yes, all the girls have been so kind to me. The men too, but — a-and you, of course, have been so kind to take me in —“
“Of course, dear, I know how grateful you are,” Dutch said, his head slightly tilting as a smile flickered on his lips. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked since you’ve been here. But it seems you have some needs that are not being met.”
“Needs?” you asked curiously, not sure what he meant.
“Recently when I was wandering through camp, I accidentally overheard you,” Dutch said calmly, his face not betraying that this was anything other than a perfectly normal conversation.
You instantly knew what he was talking about and felt heat flash in your face. You were absolutely mortified and didn’t know where to run. “I’m so sorry, I should go —“ You stood and tried to rush out of the tent, but Dutch grabbed you before you could get far from your chair, his hands gripping your upper arms to hold you in place.
“Don’t go anywhere, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, dear,” he said, his dark eyes staring deep into yours.
“No, I’m — you weren’t supposed to hear that, I know I shouldn’t —“ you tripped over your words, desperate to erase this entire interaction from existence.
“Shouldn’t what, sweetheart?”
“Shouldn’t — shouldn’t think about you like that,” you said, trying to avoid his gaze.
“If I can be of assistance to a lady who needs help… getting to her destination, if you catch my meaning, then that is my pleasure,” he said, softening his voice and his grip on your arms. “I only ask for one favor in return, and that is that you tell me what it was that you were imagining.”
Your eyes widened in shock. He’s going to make me describe it? you thought. And yet you were starting to feel heat between your legs. “I—I don’t know if I can —“
“Well, just give it a try, darling,” Dutch said as he guided you by the shoulders towards his cot. He had you turn and sit down on it and sat next to you, placing one hand on the cot behind you to angle himself towards you.
Your heart was racing as you tried to figure out what to say. “What do you… want to know?” you asked.
“Just start at the beginning. When you started to touch yourself, what were you picturing?”
A complete description?! you thought with alarm. “Um, I pictured… you were kissing me.”
A faint smile started to show on Dutch’s lips. He turned your chin towards him with one large finger and placed a soft kiss on your lips, his moustache tickling your nose and upper lip. It was softer and more gentle than you could ever have imagined he’d be able to kiss.
“Was it like that?” he asked as he pulled back.
Sensations were flickering in your stomach. “It was a little more… strong,” you said, remembering how in your mind he had kissed you deeply.
“More like this?” he asked, holding the back of your head in his hand. He used it to tilt your head upwards as he kissed you forcefully. It was slow and deep. Your mouth opened for him and his tongue pressed against yours. You could feel his hot breath coming out of his nose against your skin.
When he pulled his lips from yours you were almost breathless, and barely managed to say, “Yes.”
Dutch’s eyes seemed to glint with mischief as the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “What happened after that?” he asked as he took the hand from the back of your head to run it down your upper arm.
Your cheeks felt hot again as you remembered what came next. “You put your hands on my chest.”
“Over your clothes, dear?” Dutch asked, as if it were a run of the mill question. You nodded, and he took the hand that was on your upper arm and gently ran it over top of your breast, cupped underneath it, then caressed it with his thumb. “Does that feel good?” he asked, starting to knead your breast gently. He could already tell from the look on your face and your shortening breath that it did.
You forgot to speak as you were enjoying yourself, and just nodded instead.
“Use your voice,” Dutch said, quietly but firmly.
“Yes,” you said quietly.
“Now tell me what happened next,” he said, his tone starting to become more of an instruction than a request.
You realized he was going to make you keep speaking while he was touching you, and that only flustered you further. “Um, next, we st— we started to take off our — our clothes,” you sputtered your words, trying not to maintain your composure.
Dutch put a hand on your back to urge you forward. “Why don’t you stand up for me, let me see how you take them off,” he said.
You stood up and started unbuttoning your blouse with nervous fingers, but Dutch quickly grabbed you by the hips and turned you around to stand in front of him so he could watch you. He leaned back on the cot, using his hands behind him to prop himself up, sitting with his legs parted.
“Keep undoing those buttons, sweetheart,” he said, keeping his eyes on your chest.
You undid your buttons and pulled your blouse out from where it was tucked into your skirt. You took it off your shoulders, revealing that you were wearing a short, sleeveless white undershirt, and dropped your blouse on the chair behind you. Next you unbuttoned your skirt in the back and let it fall down to the floor, revealing that you were wearing short white drawers that hugged your hips and knee-high white stockings in your black boots.
“Here, put your foot on my knee,” Dutch said, beckoning you to step towards him with a hand.
You did, and put your right foot on his knee. Dutch unlaced the boot and set it on the floor next to the cot, then took your stocking off. He repeated the process with the other boot. Now you were standing closer to him and the cot, your knees in between his. He still leaned away from you, holding himself up with a hand behind him.
“Now take that top off, angel,” he said, looking at you with a fire in his dark eyes that made sparks of arousal seem to flicker all over your body. You took the undershirt off over your head and tossed it onto the chair behind you. Standing in front of Dutch with your breasts exposed made goosebumps start to form on your arms.
“You are just lovely,” he said, an air of wonder mixing with the deep, dark sound of lust in his voice. “Touch those beautiful breasts for me, show them off for me,” he said, looking up at your eyes.
You weren’t quite sure how to put on a show for him, but wanted to please him. You started by cupping your breasts, moving to caressing and kneading them, before taking your nipples between your fingers and lightly pinching and twisting them. You didn’t realize at first, but your breathing was getting heavier and small, breathy whimpers were sneaking out of your throat occasionally. You looked at Dutch and saw he had a slight smile on his face, but his eyes were fixed on your chest. As he adjusted his weight on the cot, he briefly rested his hand on his thigh not far from his crotch. When he took it away, you thought you could see the outline of his cock. It looked longer and thicker than the ones you had seen before, and you felt a tightening, tingling sensation in your stomach, wanting to see it unclothed.
“Very good, now let’s see you without those drawers, shall we?”
You were shy to be completely naked in front of him, especially because of how aroused you were. Young men had touched you there under your skirts, but you’d never been fully nude in front of one. Now it was going to be a big, intimidating, powerful older man who would be the first to see all of your nude body at once, and he was going to see that your cunt was wet and waiting for him. You pulled your drawers down, showing him how your breasts looked pressed together when you bent forward. After stepping out of your drawers and tossing them on the chair behind you, you were standing in front of him nude, fighting the urge to use your arms to cover as much as you could.
“Oh, my darling. Beautiful,” Dutch said, looking you up and down, drinking you in. “Take a step back.” You did so, and Dutch said, “Let me see you from behind, turn around.” You turned around to show him your back, and shyly looked over your shoulder at him. “Beautiful from every angle, ain’t you,” Dutch said, sitting forward to look closer at you. “Spread your legs apart, just a little.”
That raised your nerves, but you wanted to please him badly. You moved your feet apart about six inches.
“Bend over,” he said firmly, telling, not asking. You bent forward, placing your hands on your thighs. “Further,” he said. You placed your hands on your knees and bent further.
“Mm, mm mm. What a sight to behold,” Dutch said, his voice low and dark. What he was seeing made his cock twitch in his pants. Such a pretty cunt, with glistening wet lips that looked swollen with arousal, ready to cushion you when he drove his cock into that tight, sweet little hole. “Come back here, doll.”
You stood up and stepped back over to stand in between Dutch’s knees. He put his hands on your hips and softly rubbed them for a moment as he said, “That was perfect, sweetheart. Lay down here for me.” He patted the cot next to him and shifted himself down a bit so you could lay there. He arranged your legs so that you were laying with your knees together and bent, your feet sitting just next to his thigh. Dutch placed a hand on your knee and ran it down onto your thigh.
“Now I want you to keep telling me about your little fantasy,” he said, gazing into your eyes softly, “and show me how you like to pleasure yourself.”
Your heart raced and your stomach felt like it had flipped. Right here? With him this close, looking down right between my legs… You thought you were too shy for that, but at the same time your cunt was throbbing with need. With every pass of his big hand down your thigh, you wanted to spread them open and let him see everything. After a moment’s contemplation, you opened your legs, and Dutch took hold of each of your ankles to help spread them further apart.
“Lovely, my dear,” Dutch said as he ran one hand down the inside of your thigh, getting so close to your cunt he could feel the heat radiating off of it. He turned to reach down to the end of his cot, to a crate that had his cigars and matches on it. He took one, cut it and lit it. Only then did he turn back to you and place his free hand on your knee as he puffed on his cigar.
You weren’t sure where to start. Your hand was laying on your belly, fingers reaching out wanting to go lower.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened in your fantasy when we were undressed, darling,” he suggested, exhaling smoke.
“We laid down on a bed and you… let me touch you.” Your voice was already getting ragged. “Your cock,” you said, quietly, nervously.
“Mmm,” Dutch hummed, raising his cigar back to his lips. “Tell me more.”
Your fingers reached down closer to your lips, and started to tease them and spread them. “I touched it until it was hard, then I wanted it in my mouth,” you said, the image of it in your head causing even more arousal in your body, and you looked at Dutch’s cigar, avoiding his eyes. “I sucked on it,” you said, your eyes drawn to his, out of your control. You ran two fingers down between your lips on either side of your clit. “It felt so good in my mouth,” you said, feeling bolder the more aroused you got. “I wanted—” you paused, short of breath, “wanted to make you co-come in my — my mouth,” you tilted your head back, looking at the ceiling. “But you wanted to fuck me,” you said, rubbing your clit down over its hood.
Dutch exhaled more smoke, and used his free hand to caress your inner thigh close to your cunt. “Oh, I do want to fuck you, angel,” he said, his voice low, almost menacing. “Tell me what it was like and I’ll make it happen for you.”
You couldn’t help but let out a whine when he said that, and he removed your hand to replace your fingers with his own on your clit. “I was on my hands and knees,” you said, your chest rising and falling quickly with short breaths. “You took me from behind,” you said, giving in, no longer caring how desperate you looked, wanting to come in front of him.
“What did you want when you said ‘Please, Dutch,’” he asked, rubbing your clit.
“Ohh, I — mmm, I want — wanted you to let me — make me come —” Your hips were rocking against his hand, quickly starting to get close.
“I will, sweetheart,” Dutch said, sinking his thick index finger into your hot cunt, making you groan. “Say it again,” he said, putting his thumb on your clit to rub it in circles.
For a second you weren’t sure what he wanted you to say, you were so caught up in the pleasure of the moment, but then it clicked and you said, “Please, Dutch,” louder and more desperately than you meant to.
His thumb made your clit tingle and throb with pleasure, as he watched you with his cigar clenched between his teeth. You couldn’t control the moans coming from your throat as your orgasm started to wash over you. At the point where you would have stopped touching yourself, Dutch didn’t. He was still rubbing you, making the tingles in your clit start to feel sharp. He thrusted his finger in and out of you faster, and the pressure inside started to build further. You gripped Dutch’s wrist, not sure if you wanted him to stop or not stop.
“Just a little more,” he said firmly. “Let yourself go, sweetheart.”
“Please— ”you whined, then gasped as your orgasm reached a sharp peak and your hips raised up off the cot, trembling for a moment before they fell back down, your wetness dripping out.
Dutch trailed his hand up and down your thigh, using broad pressure to soothe you. After a few moments he said, “You did so well, my dear.”
You felt euphoric as you laid there breathing heavily, still reeling from your orgasm. His cigar had gone out while he was distracted by you, and now he set it back on the crate at the end of his cot. He used both hands to pick up your calves and lay them across his lap so you could stretch your legs, and he could caress them.
“Thank you,” you said in a soft, slightly weak voice.
“You are more than welcome, my darling,” Dutch said, looking at your face with an expression of satisfaction and a slight smugness he tried to hide. You looked relaxed and content but slightly out of it, as if you were a little high. If one good orgasm could make you look like that, what would you look like once he really gave you all the pleasure that beautiful body could take? He couldn’t wait to find out. “Next time you feel in need, you will come to me, understood?” Dutch asked as he massaged one of your calves.
Still in a haze, you looked in his eyes and nodded.
“Say, ‘Yes, Dutch,’” he said, quietly but firmly.
“Yes, Dutch,” you said softly.
He reached up to gently caress one side of your face and said, “Very good, darling.”