The Apocalypse

15

After a brief yet intense encounter in the barn that caught the attention of a few passersby, she found herself seated on her horse. Her tender pussy throbbed with soreness as she settled onto the saddle, the discomfort evident on her face. Maurits couldn't help but sport a smirk, relishing in her obvious discomfort.
"Isn't it perfect?" he taunted, his smirk widening, causing her to blush deeply. The undeniable flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks as she struggled to find a response.
"People heard." She muttered out as her heart ached suddenly. People were gonna stare.
"I am sure they did, but you should not care. People have fucked in the open in this town. A few noises won't hurt them." He casual replied, but His words only served to intensify Maeve's feelings of despair. Regret seeped through her veins as she anxiously bit the inside of her cheek. "Darling," he warned, grasping her wrist and pulling her closer to his face while she was on horseback. "Do not dwell on negative thoughts. These past few hours we've spent together have been the most wonderful moments of my life. I couldn't care less about what others think, for their opinions hold no significance compared to my love for you. However, if you ever feel uncomfortable or notice people treating you differently, come to me. I will do everything in my power to assist you." He told her in all seriousness.
"I promise that next time, no one will hear a sound except for me." Maeve visibly swallowed, her unease apparent.
"Do I not keep my promises?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows when he noticed her continued distress. After a moment of hesitation, she slowly nodded in agreement.
"I need words, darling." He ordered
"You keep them," she replied.
"Stop overthinking, my darling, it only gives you wrinkles," he urged, planting a gentle kiss on her lips before releasing his painful grip on her wrist. She looked at him with a side eye but a smile appeared back on her face.
He tightly grasped the reins, taking charge of Cow's movement as he guided the majestic creature outside the stable with Maeve perched gracefully on its back. He climbed on his own horse as They embarked on a leisurely stroll through the picturesque farmlands, immersing themselves in the tranquil surroundings. After traversing the idyllic countryside, they reached the outskirts of the town, where a delightful sight awaited them—a petite forest nestled amidst a lush grassy field, the perfect expanse for an exhilarating ride.
"Do you still recall the intricacies of proper riding?" Maurits inquired, his eyes fixed on Maeve. She cast her gaze downward, acknowledging his query with a subtle nod. "I do remember," she assured him, her voice brimming with confidence.
"Excellent," Maurits murmured, granting her permission to take control by relinquishing the reins. Maeve's face lit up with delight as she gently nudged Cow forward, gradually increasing their pace. Her radiant smile, accentuated by the rhythmic bounce of her hair upon her shoulders, bestowed an air of joyous anticipation.
As they neared the enchanting tree line, Maeve deftly adjusted Cow's course, guiding the equine companion parallel to the verdant edge. Sensing her longing for an invigorating experience, she urged Cow into a spirited gallop, savoring the rush of wind against her face and the harmonious rhythm of hoofbeats against the earth. Minutes passed which turned into an half hour.
Maurits's watchful eyes followed Maeve's every move, captivated by her grace and finesse. In a display of appreciation, he pursed his lips and released a resounding whistle. Responding instinctively to his call, Maeve executed a graceful turn, effortlessly bringing Cow back towards him.
Maeve allowed Cow to saunter back, prolonging the enchanting experience in a bid to savor every last moment. Deep down, she knew that once she reached Maurits, their exhilarating ride would come to an end, at least for the time being. However, her radiant smile remained intact as she approached Maurits, who reciprocated with a warm smile of his own.
"Once you've gained enough experience, you'll be permitted to ride on your own," Maurits informed her, his gaze fixed upon her. Maeve's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she gradually nodded in agreement, eager to demonstrate her progress.
"Come on, let's grab some lunch. Tomorrow, we leave town to go scout," Maurits declared, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. Confusion washed over Maeve's face as she questioned him, seeking clarity. "Leave? Where are we going?"
Maurits patiently explained the purpose of their departure, emphasizing the dire need for supplies, "we need new supplies especially the need of
tampons." Maeve's eyebrows furrowed slightly as she absorbed this information. The idea of venturing outside this new familiar surroundings left her feeling hesitant.
"I'm not coming," she responded, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and defiance. However, her defiance only elicited a scoff from Maurits, who wasted no time in voicing his strong objection. "Like hell you won't," he growled, his tone laced with determination. "You are not staying here. The only person I trust is Johnny, and even that trust is sometimes in doubt. You are not staying here!"
Maeve's heart raced within her chest, torn between her newfound sense of security and the undeniable authority in Maurits' voice. "But I don't want to leave. I've grown to like everything here," she pleaded, hoping to sway his decision.
"I don't want to hear another word!" he spat, abruptly halting their steps and turning to face Maeve. His eyes burned with anger at her resistance, causing her panic to intensify. She desperately searched for the right words to convey her concerns but found herself lost in a jumble of thoughts.
"Maurits, please," she begged, her voice laced with a tinge of desperation. Before she could utter another word, his grip on her knee tightened painfully, silencing her instantly.
"Maeve, enough!" he barked, his tone commanding obedience. "If you don't want me to lose my temper, you better listen carefully." The severity of his grip and his words sent a shiver down Maeve's spine, rendering her momentarily speechless.
Without another word, Maurits swiftly secured the saddle and effortlessly positioned himself behind Maeve. Her mind whirled with a mixture of emotions, leaving her at a loss for words or actions. The reality of the impending departure sank in, and she grappled with the conflicting sentiments stirring within her.
This place, their current refuge, had gradually become Maeve's newfound sanctuary—a haven where she felt an unusual sense of safety. Unlike her previous home, which had never offered solace, leaving it behind had been a relatively easy decision. While this place had become a refuge, much of that sense of security emanated from Maurits himself. The fierce protectiveness he exuded, his unwavering presence by her side, had woven a safety net around her.