Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Adoré

   A Tale of Romance By The Star*

   [Author's Note: This story predates the "Audry" series.  'Adoré' is
spelled with an accented "e" as the last letter.  Her mother is big-money
eastern rich...  so sue me.  :-) Dunno if that will come through in .txt
format.  Sometimes formatted letters are just dropped by my ISP.]



   Chapter One - Her First



   The crash of the shattering vase in the brick fireplace was most
satisfying.  She'd thrown it clear across the room, too.  Not bad...  Then
she flung herself onto her bed and sobbed, her body shaking...

   Her distress wasn't sorrow, it was rage, fanned by frustration.

   How could he?

   How could any boy?

   He actually told her he didn't want to take her to the Fourth of July
picnic.  He'd see her there, but he had plans with his brother and hers and
a couple other guys.

   Where did he get off with that crap?

   Adoré knew very well how she looked.  At fifteen, she was pure drop-dead
gorgeous, a stereotype teen goddess.  And her family, the Parmentiers of
Richmond, were 'old money' Atlantic coast aristocrats.  Her name alone
would ensure entrée to any 'society' function.

   So what was Marty's problem?  Didn't he know how many boys were panting
for the chance to be her escort at the big annual family party?

   Though she sometimes came across as a spoiled little rich bitch, Adoré
was really a much more sensible, mature, and aware girl than her tantrum
would suggest, not all that full of herself.  She was blessed with abnormal
beauty and knew it, but tried to act as if it was no big deal.

   The problem, simply, was that, though she was only fifteen, she had
chosen her man...  and he hadn't figured it out...  Yet.

   Rolling over, she wiped her eyes, sniffled, and sat up, smiling ruefully
at herself.  Marty was barely sixteen, after all, and everyone knows girls
mature much sooner than boys.  OK.  She'd decided on her man.  In fact,
she'd chosen him when she first saw him, seven years before.  She just
needed to convince him of the self-evident fact that they were a
couple--and make him think it was HIS idea!

   That was the kind of challenge her sharp feminine mind could latch on
to.

   She rang for a maid to clean the glass from her fireplace while she
washed her face, put on the light dash of lipstick that was all the makeup
her mother allowed her to use, and changed into the skimpiest "summer
casual" clothes she had.  Her chestnut hair in a neat ponytail, a thin
cotton blouse tied below her unfettered breasts in place of a bra, and
short shorts, completed the look she wanted.

   Hustling out the back of the huge house, she skipped across to the horse
barn, where she found her brother and cousins.

   "Hi, Dory," Jeff called.  "Watcha doin'?"

   "Just gonna ride a bit." She knew her brother had already exercised his
show mount, and wouldn't want to ride any more.  "Anybody want to go along?
Marty...?"

   Like a trout in a mountain stream, he started to rise to the lure.

   "You can ride Chief..." She knew he'd love to ride her mom's jumper--and
her mom wouldn't mind him riding the horse, just for the exercise, as long
as they were careful.

   He took the bait...  "OK, Dory.  I'll ride along with you."

   Hiding a little smile, she knew the chance to ride Chief alongside her
would get him, hot as she looked.  After a bit, she'd set the hook.

   That summer of 1963, the nation was just beginning to become involved in
a little Asian country called Vietnam.  Most had not heard of it.  The
Cuban missile crisis was more immediate.  In San Francisco, the 'Hippies'
were proclaiming the 'Age of Aquarius.' Grass and sex and burning bras--as
well as draft cards--were the big thing on college campuses.  Peter, Paul
and Mary were one of the top singing groups, with the Limeliters giving
them a run for the top of the charts.

   The Pill wasn't invented yet.  But AIDS hadn't appeared either. 
Abortions were still against the law in all but a very few states.

   The Parmentier family controlled one of the great American fortunes. 
Although not as well known as the Cabots or Gettys, they were comfortably
within that class of wealth.  Those who needed to know about them did. 
Into real estate, building, shipping and commodities, management of the
family fortune was divided among "experts".  One branch of the family
concentrated on shipping, another branch 'specialized' in real estate, and
so on.  Adoré's father was the family's "money expert".  Although
relatively young, this made him the 'patriarch' at the moment.  He
supervised the large family trusts and advised all of the extended family
on investment and financial strategies.  He also coordinated the family's
lobbying effort, which was substantial.

   The Steeles were the experts on cattle.  They'd moved to San Francisco a
hundred years earlier, to profit from the gold rush.  Then one enterprising
young man moved north, to Oregon of all places, and homesteaded a ranch in
the foothills of the Cascade Mountains.  He'd done well, too, shipping beef
all over the northwest, even up to Alaska.  The San Francisco Steeles had
been wiped out in the Great Earthquake, leaving the Oregon ranchers the
only remnant of that branch of the family.  Now the Steeles shipped beef
all over the country, the quality commanding premium prices from specialty
packing houses.

   Marty Steele's mother was a Parmentier, too.  She'd met his dad during
his only trip to Richmond--for Adoré's grandfather's funeral.  They'd
fallen in love and married.  Hazel Parmentier Steele made it a point to
visit the east regularly.  She brought her two sons every two or three
years, feeling that it was important that they know about their roots and
their relatives...  And that their relatives not forget about them.

   Adoré felt it was unfair of her father to look down on the Steeles as
'country cousins'.  Rick and Marty were as bright as any young men she'd
met.  And better looking than most...

   Riding along the lane in rural Virginia, the beautiful girl considered
how to consolidate her position.  Marty and Rick would return to the ranch
soon.  It would be most of another year, at best, before she could see him
again once he left.

   "I sure wish your dad had a couple of good western saddles," Marty
complained.  Not whining, just making conversation.

   "It's not dad.  Mom doesn't want them around.  Says cowboys are just...
cowboys." She aimed a brilliant smile on her companion.  "Kinda like
cowboys, myself." Marty smiled back.  What sixteen-year-old, full of
teenage hormones, wouldn't, with such a fantastic fox giving him her full
attention?

   "Marty, what's your life like?  On the ranch, I mean.  Where do you go
to school?  What's the nearest city?  What do you do for fun?"

   "Oh, you know, Dory, we're 'home-schooled.' Mom teaches us from books
and lesson plans the state sends out.  It's kinda fun--except when mom
doesn't understand something either.  Then we have to call the school--it's
in Sisters--and get one of the teachers to explain it to us.  Once we all
had to drive in there and spend two days with a teacher.  Mom took the
instruction along with me and Rick.  What a trip!"

   "But, don't you have any friends?  Anybody to do things with?"

   "Sure.  Rick and I are best friends.  And there's a couple of kids on a
ranch over a ways that we see now and then.  In August, there's the fair.
That's always fun.  We show our cows, and chase heifers..."

   "Why?  Aren't they penned up?"

   Marty chuckled.  "That's what we call the farm and ranch girls that come
to the fair."

   "Oh!" Adoré blushed.  "That's not very nice."

   "It's all in fun.  They don't mind.  They have names for us, too."

   "Is there any special girl in Oregon, Marty?"

   "Nah.  I don't get to see any enough to get to know them.  The fairs are
all quick gropes and lots of giggles.  Nothing that amounts to a hill of
beans...  Not that I'd mind finding a good girl.  But how can a ranch kid
date?"

   "I don't know.  That's why I'm asking all these dumb questions...  Don't
you get awful...frustrated?" 'Horny, is what I wanted to ask him,' she
thought.

   "That's a fact!" he agreed.

   "What do you do?"

   Marty looked sharply at her.  "Why are you asking this stuff?"

   "Because I want to know, is why.  I care.  And I'm curious about your
life out there."

   "Why don't you come for a visit?  Maybe for Christmas?  You can see for
yourself."

   "I'd like that.  Can you get your mom to invite me?  Mom won't let me go
otherwise."

   "Sure, if you really want to come."

   "I really do, Marty."

   "OK.  I'll see what I can do."

   They rode in companionable silence for a while.

   Then Dory asked, "Marty?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Do you think I look all right?"

   "Huh?"

   "Is there something wrong with how I look?"

   Marty just stared at her, dumbfounded.  "Don't you have a mirror?" he
finally asked.

   "Oh, sure.  I think I look OK.  But it seems guys either ignore me, or
want to jump my bones.  And," she grinned, "I am well aware that guys our
age will jump anything female that's breathing..." She sobered again.  "So
why do guys ignore me?  I don't think I look that bad and I'd like to know
what's wrong."

   Marty was confused.  His experience with girls was VERY limited.  Adoré
was a cousin, so he had treated her like family.  Her flirtation, though,
said she wanted to be treated like a girl he might want to be with or
something.  He didn't have the experience to know how to read the signals
properly--nor the knowledge that the degree of blood relationship was
pretty distant, and that Adoré was an 'eligible female' in every respect.

   He finally decided to just play it straight and answer her question.

   "I think, Dory, that maybe you're too pretty...  Guys are scared of you.
So they over-react one way or the other...  Does that make sense?"

   "Maybe.  Explain, please?"

   "Well, a guy looks at you and just knows that every guy wants you.  So
you got to have lots of guys trying to date you, and so on.  So they tend
to just leave you alone, feeling they can't stand up to the competition--or
too proud to face being rejected...  Or, they try to hustle you right then,
feeling they will only have the one chance, before somebody else gets there
ahead of them...

   "That's the best I can do.  I dunno if I'm right, but that's my best
answer."

   After a moment, while their horses plodded down the country lane, Adoré
looked at him and asked, "Do I scare you, Marty?"

   "Sometimes.  When I look close at you.  Mostly I just consider you're
one of my cousins--one of the nicer ones."

   "Well, I'm glad for that much...  I always think of you as Marty, my
friend.  The cousin part doesn't mean anything beyond that to me, it was
just how I met you."

   "Thanks, Dory.  Now that I think of it, you've always been a friend,
rather than an opponent, or a giggly girl."

   "Marty, I don't ever want to scare you off.  I think you're right about
why guys act like they do around me...  So, would you be there for me?  Let
me be ME with you?  And not worry about the packaging?"

   "Sure, Dory.  If that's what you want?"

   'I really want lots more than that, but it's a start!' she thought. 
Aloud, she said, "I'd appreciate it, Marty.  I don't have anybody I can
really talk to.  I guess I intimidate most girls too--if that's what's
really going on.  And Jeff is just typical older brother.  I love him, but
he's such a jerk at times!"

   "You can talk to me, Dory.  Any time, about anything."

   "I'll take you up on that...  Will you watch the fireworks with me
tomorrow night? ...  I know you want to run around with the guys during the
picnic."

   "Sure.  I'd like that."

   The annual Parmentier Fourth of July picnic was a large affair, with
somewhere upwards of 600 family and guests in attendance.  Food and drink
was set out under canopies erected by the caterers.  After dark there was
always a nice fireworks display, as well as plenty of firecrackers and
sparklers for the kids.

   Adoré kept track of Marty off and on all afternoon, as he harassed
adults with firecrackers and generally goofed off with their brothers and
friends.  When it started to get dark, she got blankets to sit on and
staked out a secluded spot where they could see the fireworks display fine,
but have privacy from all the other guests.  Grinning to herself, she
thought how nice it was to know the grounds better than anyone who didn't
live there.

   Returning to the pavilions, which were still doing a brisk drink
business, she found Marty looking for her.

   Pleased, she said, "I got a blanket to sit on.  It's over here a ways."
Taking his hand, she led him off to her spot.

   "Kind of out of the way, aren't we?" Marty asked, when he saw the place
she'd selected.

   "Well, this way we won't get trampled by little kids, and my older
relatives will leave me alone.  I just want to spend some time with you and
watch the fireworks without being hassled about it."

   "Yeah.  I can see that.  I don't need any hassle, either."

   Adoré had laid out her blankets so that they could watch the display
best from flat on their backs.  "If you lie down, with your feet that way,
the fireworks will be almost over us," she suggested.  When Marty had
dropped to the ground and was comfortable, she lay beside him.  They
chatted about this and that, until they heard the sound of the first
firework soaring into the night.  The explosion, when it came, was very
loud, and seemed to be right on top of them.  Adoré jumped, and clung to
Marty.  After a moment, she pretended shame at her action and apologized.

   "Sorry, Marty.  It startled me."

   "That's OK, Dory.  What are friends for?"

   Adoré was careful not to move her head off of his shoulder, though she
didn't press it.

   Soon, she felt Marty's hand on her waist, as his arm held her.

   "Mmmm.  That's nice.  Thank you."

   Marty didn't reply, but his hand started to gently rub her stomach and
side, where it naturally fell.

   A few minutes later, another very loud firework exploded right over
them. Again, Adoré turned and clung to Marty, making sure her abundant
breasts were mashed against his side and chest.

   Marty held her tight, stroking her gently.  When she stopped quivering,
he looked at her, to try to judge how frightened she was.  Her eyes, that
close, were huge, and her lips were slightly parted.  He couldn't help
himself.

   He kissed her.

   She controlled herself and didn't attack...  she just kissed him
back--the soft, gentle exploration of two inexperienced teenaged kids. 
Marty rolled more to his side, so they were facing each other and could
continue their kissing more comfortably.  His free hand stroked her face
and shoulder.

   "I think I could get used to this," he said softly.

   "I know I could," she answered, almost breathless.  "More?"

   Willing to oblige, Marty kissed her again, and Adoré increased the
urgency and fire in the exchange.

   Her mouth opened and her tongue learned the shape of his lips.  When
they parted, she sought their inner sides and the hardness of his teeth. 
His tongue entered the fray and she tried to suck it down like candy.

   All this was very exciting to a ranch-raised teenager--and to Adoré,
too. Marty's hands began to stroke her back and sides, while hers clenched
his shirt and pulled him tightly to her.  Purely instinctively, her hips
began moving against him rhythmically.  When his free hand moved to her
face, tracing its contours, then down her neck to the collarbone, she moved
back a bit, to give him room.  The hand, almost of its own will, outlined
the shape of her clavicle, then traced the upper slopes of her ample
breasts.  When he would have moved upward again, she moaned and arched her
back, putting more breast into his eager hand.

   Moving to cup her offering, Marty echoed her moan, their mouths joined
again.  When he rubbed his palm over her stiffening nipple, she broke the
kiss, to gasp and moan louder, pressing her chest against his hand.

   In moments, Marty was kneading and caressing her, and she had begun to
unbutton his shirt.  As soon as she had some of the buttons open, her hand
slid inside, to rub softly against his hard chest.  Adoré thought to tease
him with gentle caresses, but she was too frenzied, and could only touch
and rub and clench at him, while Marty worked over her breast, still
enclosed in her blouse.

   His fevered brain wanted to touch skin--and realized that she was still
wearing what she'd worn on their ride.  He quickly unknotted the blouse and
was thrilled to see that she was not wearing a bra.  In fact, he was
transfixed by the beauty of the large, firm teenage breasts laid bare
before him.

   Adoré pulled him to her, so she could feel the skin of his chest against
the bare skin of hers.  Then Marty pushed her back, so he could see and
touch--and kiss and lick--the lovely flesh revealed to him.

   Their passion soaring, their remaining clothing melted from their
bodies, and Marty found himself kneeling between Adoré's widespread knees,
as she tried to steer him into her.

   Neither of them had much idea of what they were doing, except that their
need was such that they'd have consummated their lust even if all their
parents were standing around them.  When he felt himself in her entrance
and Adoré removed her hand, Marty lunged forward, entering her rather
brutally.  Adoré's choked scream of anguish sort of brought him to his
senses, and he stopped still where he was--firmly embedded within her, the
head of his tool seated against her cervix.

   "Sorry, Dory," he gasped.  "I got carried away."

   In her pain and passion, Adoré's brain carried the message that she
needed, first, to reassure her man.

   "It's OK, Marty," she panted.  "Just hold still for a minute, until I
get used to you."

   Marty held as still as he could.  It was all he could do to keep from
shooting into her right then.  The sensations he experienced were more
exquisite than he had imagined in his wildest wet dreams.  Of course, Adoré
was more woman than any in his wildest wet dreams, too.  Soon, his urgency
eased and he was back in control of himself--a little bit.

   Her pain receded and Adoré moved against him, testing the sensations she
was feeling.

   Marty backed out an inch, then moved in.  Then again.  And again.

   Adoré was getting into it and felt the familiar rush of impending
orgasm--except that this was not the result of fingers stroking herself at
night.  This was HER MAN, who had just made her a WOMAN.  It was too much
and, out of nowhere, her orgasm overwhelmed her.  Gasping and flopping,
Adoré came.  And came again.  And, when Marty moved in her, came yet again.

   Her internal muscles spasmed too--it was all too much for a teenage boy.
Marty spewed semen inside her like he was taking a leak.  He'd never come
like that.  In the end, he collapsed, drained, on top of her.  That was OK,
because Adoré was mostly out of it, too, and enjoyed the solid feeling of
his weight on her.  When he started to come back to reality, Marty realized
he had come in her.  Remorse and anxiety hit him like a hammer.

   "Dory?" he said.

   "Mmmmm?" she dreamily replied, nibbling on his neck.

   "Dory.  I'm sorry!"

   "Why.  Didn't you like me?"

   "Not that.  Dory...  Pay attention! ...  Dory, I came in you."

   "'s OK, Marty.  I wanted you to."

   "But...  you might get pregnant!"

   By now, she was alert enough to see that he was really concerned,
although his cock was still embedded within her and, she could tell, was
'waking up' again.  Careful not to dislodge him, she moved her face back so
he could look at her.

   "Marty, relax.  It's OK.  You didn't do anything I didn't want.  OK? 
And if I get pregnant, it's my own fault.  But I don't think I will.  It's
the wrong time of the month.  We're probably OK for another week, darling."

   Her reassurances broke through his concern.  Hearing that, one, they
were safe from pregnancy and two, she wanted it, his old one-eyed snake
woke up.

   Adoré giggled.  "Looks like you didn't do anything you didn't want to,
either, lover." She rolled them over so that she was on top this time and
pulled her knees up beside him.  Bending over, she kissed him tenderly,
while she rocked up and down gently.

   Neither of them was prepared for the sensations this created.  Adoré was
kissing the man she loved.  Her nipples were abrading his chest, sending
lustful messages up and down her body.  And her vagina was firmly grasping
her man, while his pelvic bone intermittently crushed her clitoris.

   Marty was over-stimulated.  He gasped for breath, then moved his hips to
counter hers.  In seconds, it seemed, he was spewing into her again.

   Fortunately for them both, Adoré was on just as short a fuse.

   The next thing either of them was aware of was the 'grand finale' of the
fireworks display.  With a sly grin, Adoré said, "I think you produced
better fireworks than daddy bought, my love."

   Marty didn't know quite how to handle the expression of endearment, but
certainly concurred in the sentiment.  "I was inspired by a goddess!"

   "Good.  Hold me?"

   "Any time, Dory.  Just any time at all," he said, gently clasping her
limp body to his, while he kissed her with love, but not passion.

   "Dory?"

   "Mmmmm?"

   "Does this mean...  Ah...  that you're my girl?"

   "Do you want me to be your girl, Marty?"

   "Ah...  yeah...  I guess I do..."

   "Marty!"

   "Huh?"

   "Do you want me, or not?"

   "Yeah, I want you.  I'm not sure you want me..."

   "Marty, lemme tell you something about girls...  A girl only has one
first time.  It's an important thing for us--when we become women.  You
were my first...  because I love you and I wanted to give you something
only I could give you.  That's important to me.  I hope it was important to
you."

   "Yeah, Dory.  You are my first, too.  I didn't mean to do this, but I'm
glad I did--if you're not mad at me?"

   "Why would I be mad at you?"

   "Well, I came in you, and didn't do anything about protection..."

   "Marty.  That's sweet.  I'm glad you cared.  From what my friends tell
me, most guys wouldn't even give that a thought.  I'm glad you came in me,
and I'm glad it was good for you.  OK?"

   "You're not mad?"

   "No, I'm not mad."

   "Then that's OK...  Dory?  Would you be my girl?  It's a lot to ask. 
I'm so far away, and don't get out here very often.  Could you stand to
wait for me?"

   After a strong hug and a kiss that curled his toes, Adoré said, "Yes,
Marty.  I'll be proud to be your girl."

   "I think I'd better work hard to get you to the ranch this Christmas..."
Marty mused.

   "I think you'd better.  And you'd better get some rubbers when you're in
town next.  Because I think we both will need to do this often, so we will
have memories for the cold, lonely winter nights coming up."

   Marty hugged her strongly, then backed away, so he could look at her in
the moonlight.

   Adoré was well worth the look.  Many teenage girls are beautiful, but
she was flat-out stunning, with long chestnut hair, green eyes,
aristocratic nose and cheekbones, and a figure already too developed to be
a fashion model.

   "God you're beautiful, Dory," he breathed.  "...  You're REALLY
beautiful!"

   Smiling shyly--after all, he was well and truly hooked now--she said,
"You are too, Marty."

   "Dory?  I...  I think...  I think I'm in love with you..."

   "That's good, Marty.  I've been in love with you for a long time."

   "You have?"

   "Yes." A quiet affirmation of something she'd known for years.

   "Dory, when I told you about guys being intimidated by your looks... 
You know I was talking about me, too."

   "No need for you to be.  You have me, if you want me.  The looks are
just part of the package."

   "God Dory.  You're too much."

   "I hope not.  I hope I'm just enough.  Enough to keep you happy and
satisfied with me..."

   "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

   "I hope not.  You see, I've never even dated.  I've been in love with a
guy since before I was old enough to date, and wasn't interested.  So I
don't know how to keep a guy.  I don't know all the games and tricks most
girls use with guys."

   "Dory, I don't either, so maybe we can teach each other?"

   "I'd like that, Marty," she breathed into his mouth just before she
kissed him again.

   Their kisses soon turned passionate and they joined for the third time.
This time was almost violent in its intensity.  They knew they were loved
and they were giving pleasure to the beloved...  and they were young,
inexperienced teenagers.  That Marty was able to bring Adoré to climax with
him was not a tribute to his skill, but to her hair-triggered need.

   The following day, any who paid any attention at all could see that
Marty and Adoré had connected.  They were inseparable and touched or held
hands often.  That evening, Adoré's mom found time to chat with Marty's
mother, Hazel.

   "Well, Hazel.  Looks like Marty's a chip off the old block."

   "My side of the family, anyhow," Hazel agreed.  "You have a problem with
it?"

   "Not especially.  I hoped she'd marry money.  Not that we need any more,
but because of what she's used to..."

   "We do OK, though I know what you mean.  But I left all this, you
know... and I've never been sorry I did."

   "A bit different, Hazel.  You already had Rick, and Marty on the way..."

   "True.  But I married for love.  Both boys were conceived in love, too.
No regrets.  I'm very happy with my life."

   "That pleases me more than you know, Hazel.  I'm glad for you.  I
wouldn't trade with you; but then, I married for love, too."

   The women smiled at each other in mutual satisfaction and recognition
that they were both those rare creatures--women who really loved their
husbands--then hugged briefly but warmly.

   Hazel asked, "I wonder if they've got each other's cherries, yet?"

   "Pretty sure they did--last night, I'd bet.  You know, Hazel, Adoré has
had a crush on Marty for years."

   "I didn't know.  I hope it has turned into love, 'cause I suspect those
two will be making babies soon."

   "Probably.  Is that a problem?"

   "Not with me.  Can Dory stand ranch life?  It's pretty lonely, after the
social whirl of Richmond and this place."

   "She's a pretty tough girl; amazingly self-contained and self-directed,
too.  Really, Hazel, the girl has mostly raised herself.  Her father and I
provided a framework for her, and put some opportunities in her path, but
she's mostly done it all.  She's so mature and steady...  I'm so proud of
her I could just bust my bra...  Now, Jeff, on the other hand..."

   Both women laughed, knowing the struggles she'd had with her son--who
was a fine young man, really, but had been a handful to raise.

   "I know Marty is going to ask, so before he does, what do you think
about Adoré coming to visit us for Christmas?"

   "I'll let her ask me...  and snivel a bit...  but I think it's going to
be necessary, if they're going to make it.  I think they'll need to spend
summers together, too--more on the ranch than here."

   The two loving mothers continued their discussion.  They approved of the
choice their children had made, so they would do all they could to help
their children grow in their love--while never forgetting that they were,
really, VERY young.

   Hazel extended her visit, so Marty and his brother Rick spent four more
weeks at the estate and in Richmond with the Parmentiers.  During that
time, Marty and Adoré cemented their relationship as well as young people
can, knowing little of life and what they faced, but sure in their hearts
that they were meant for each other.

   Soon, Marty was sleeping in Adoré's room.  Their parents were aware of
it, but said nothing, as the kids had been discrete and didn't rub people's
noses in it.

   Hazel made sure that Marty had a big box of condoms--she bought them for
him.  She quietly told him that she knew about his affair with his
cousin--and was all for it.  But he had to use protection EVERY TIME.  And
he had to be faithful to Adoré.  If he just wanted to screw around, he'd
lose her support.

   Marty jumped at it.

   Adoré got permission to visit the Steele Ranch for the Christmas break.
She would spend three weeks there.



   -- + + + + + -

   Mid-December found the Steeles in their station wagon, picking up Adoré
at the Portland airport.  When she came up the ramp from the aircraft, she
ran to give Aunt Hazel and Uncle Ad big hugs and profuse thanks for letting
her come.  A hug for Rick, and a kiss for Marty that made his knees
weak--and hers too--and the group moved off to the baggage claim.

   Even bundled up against the December cold, the stunning girl attracted a
lot of stares from people trying to figure out if they'd seen her somewhere
before.  A face like that should be in magazines or movies, right?

   They spent the night in Portland, then got an early start for the ranch.
Adoré enjoyed the verdant Willamette valley, the scenery much like that
around Richmond, only with Douglas fir instead of pine.  Through the snow
at the summit of the Cascade Range, then suddenly in the drier climate of
eastern Oregon.  The forest changed to yellow pine and the land was more
arid, though still green.  At Sisters, they turned south, on a
poorly-maintained gravel county road, and their speed dropped remarkably.

   An hour later, Marty said, "Well, how do you like the ranch?"

   "Where is it?"

   "Everything you see to your right..."

   Adoré whacked his arm.  "Come on, Marty.  I don't see any ranch."

   The family laughed, with good nature.  "Dory," Hazel asked, "what do you
think a ranch is?"

   "Huh?"

   "It's mostly land--on which we graze cattle and raise feed crops."

   The light was starting to dawn.

   "You mean...  all of this is yours?"

   "Well, not all...  The county road runs along our eastern boundary.  To
your left is part of the national forest.  But most everything you can see
to the right is Steele Ranch."

   "Wow!  It's sure pretty here."

   "Yep.  That's a big part of why grandpa homesteaded this place.  He fell
in love with it when he first saw it.  We're lucky he was able to grab such
a big chunk.  The national forest surrounds us.  They'd dearly love to have
our land, too.  In fact, they tried to get it, but we were here first. 
Anyway, we don't have any trouble with neighbors.  And the feds are really
good about leasing us grazing rights."

   Steele Ranch was an old-time 'old west' cattle operation.  It made its
way by raising beef.

   The ranch headquarters was a big two-story house on fieldstone
foundations, with three big barns, a stout bunkhouse, and sundry sheds and
outbuildings containing things like the smithy and smokehouse nearby.

   Adoré looked around her with wide eyes.  A lot of what she saw was old
and weathered.  But it was all in good repair and functional.  As her eye
took in the total setting, to her it appeared 'perfect'.  The buildings and
corrals fit into their setting.  A lot of paint and trim, like her parents'
'farm,' just wouldn't be appropriate for this place.

   The house was painted and clean, inside and out.  It was clear that the
people who lived here cared about their home and ranch and worked hard to
care for them.

   Adoré's bags were placed in Marty's room, without comment.  Grinning,
Hazel mentioned to her, when she was showing her around the house, that she
could have her own room if she preferred.

   "Thanks, Aunt Hazel, this will be fine," she replied with a grin of her
own.

   After their separation, both Adoré and Marty were anxious to relieve
their teenage hormone pressure.  But both were well-raised kids and were
willing to wait until after supper, when Ad dismissed the family from the
table.

   Adoré offered to help with the dishes.

   "Maybe tomorrow, dear.  Rick will help me tonight."

   Alone in Marty's room, they suddenly turned shy.  Reluctant to be the
first to undress, both fidgeted and fussed, as Adoré looked at the items
collected over the years in the room, and asked questions about
them--postponing the moment of truth.

   Marty finally swept her into his arms and kissed her firmly.

   That was all they needed.  Adoré melted into him and returned his kiss
with mounting passion.  In moments they were naked and in bed, caressing
and stroking each other in a frenzy.  Not much foreplay--it wasn't
needed--and they joined joyfully.  Adoré *knew*, in that moment, that there
were no doubts, no 'considerations', no 'issues'.  THIS WAS HER MAN!  She'd
been in love with him before: now she knew that she'd never love another.

   December in eastern Oregon high country is too cold for extended
horseback trips, but she insisted that Marty take her on some rides near
the ranch headquarters.  He even found an old English saddle for her,
buried in a corner of the tack room, when she complained that she just
wasn't comfortable on her aunt's western saddle.

   She was impressed with the horses she saw on the ranch, too.  Not the
jumpers and show horses she was used to at home, these animals were raised
to carry their rider all day in the high ranges and work cattle.  But they
were not scrub cow ponies.  Ad and Hazel had ruthlessly culled their string
and had spent a lot of money on two stallions and three mares to improve
the quality of their small herd.

   Marty was especially proud of one of the stallions.  He'd spotted him at
the state fair three years earlier and suggested to his dad that they buy
him.  The horse was being ridden as a jumper, but hadn't done very well. 
Marty and Ad believed it was because the horse hadn't been trained very
well and his rider wasn't all that good.  Anyway, the disgusted owner let
them have him at a bargain price, not dreaming that they wanted a stud, not
a riding animal.  One of his colts was a particularly fractious
two-year-old.  A magnificent animal, he was just too mean and jumpy to be
ridden.  Adoré was quite interested in him, though.  He had size, and his
conformation showed the promise of strength.  She insisted that she ride
him--on her English rig.

   Ad wasn't sure he wanted to let her try.  "Don't think it's a good idea,
girl," he said over supper when Adoré asked him.  "That colt's too mean. 
He's thrown most of us and we ride bucking saddles.  In fact, I was going
to geld him come spring."

   "Uncle Ad, I've been bucked off before.  I'd like to try.  I think I
could make something of him.  And he's much too pretty to cut."

   "There's a lot of potential there, I'll give you that.  But a horse you
can't trust is worthless out here..." She just looked at him.  "OK, Dory.
You can try him.  But for your own safety, I want to be there when you do."

   It was quickly agreed and, in the morning right after breakfast, Marty
had a rope around the colt's neck and was snubbing him down for the saddle
and bridle.

   Adoré asked that they move him to a smaller corral and move all the
other horses out of it.  When she had him alone, she moved easily to his
head, grabbed an ear, and had the bridle on him before he knew what
happened to him.  Then she rubbed the quivering animal between the eyes,
stroked his neck, and told him he was a good boy and they were going to
have a lot of fun together.

   Ad, watching from the rail, said to Hazel, "Damned if I don't think that
fool horse understands what she's saying.  Look at him.  I've never seen
the like."

   Hazel put her arm around her husband and murmured, "I think the girl's
got a touch for horses--almost as good as her touch for Marty."

   Ad grinned, kissed the top of her head, and turned his attention back to
Adoré.

   After leading the horse around the corral, talking to him constantly,
she led him to the rail, to the small saddle pad and the light English
saddle.  She showed him the pad and let him smell it.  Then she carefully
placed it on his back.  He twitched, but didn't shy away from her.  He was
nervous about the saddle, but allowed her to place it on him and tighten
the cinch.

   She then put an arm over the saddle and put a little weight on it.  When
he accepted that, she pulled on the stirrup leathers.  He didn't like it,
but didn't react violently, like he normally did.  He seemed to like the
sound of Adoré's calming voice.

   Adoré told him she was going to get on him now, then smoothly mounted.
The horse didn't know what to make of it.  He seemed confused.  Should he
buck?  Should he just stand there?  What's the right thing to do in this
situation?  Adoré kept talking to him and petting his neck while he got
used to her weight on his back.

   When he seemed resigned at least to having her there, she urged him
forward, just at a slow walk.  Moving, she started to teach him about the
reins.

   By lunchtime, both horse and rider were exhausted-from nerves.  But the
horse was obeying signals from his rider and cantering around the corral,
changing direction and leads on command.

   At lunch--still the 'big' meal of the day on the working ranch--Ad was
fulsome in his praise.

   "Dory, I've never seen the like!  I've worked around horses all my life,
and I've never seen anyone do what you did this morning.  Remarkable.  How
do you do it?"

   Smiling in appreciation of the compliment, she replied, "I don't know
that I can explain it, Uncle Ad.  I've always been around horses, you know.
I just seem to know what a horse needs and wants.  They are such simple
animals...  but they sure have their own personalities! ...  I just talk to
them and know what to do based on what they tell me back."

   "Well, you did a job on that guy this morning.  Maybe I won't have to
cut him after all."

   "Oh, please don't, Uncle Ad.  In fact...  would you sell him to me?  I
think he'd make a good jumper.  I'd really like to have him."

   Putting on a stern face, his gruff tone caused Adoré to miss the twinkle
in his eye.  "No.  I can't sell him to you!"

   "But...?  Why not?"

   "He isn't mine to sell."

   "Huh?  I thought all the horses were yours?"

   "Except that one."

   "?" Her face showed complete confusion.

   "That one's yours," Ad said, putting her out of her misery.

   Hazel, Rick and Marty grinned at her, in appreciation of Ad's little
joke.

   "But...  Uncle Ad, he's a valuable animal.  You can't just give him to
me!"

   "You're right.  I can't.  Because he's already yours." Ad couldn't
resist tweaking her a bit.

   "But...  but...?" Seeing the smiles around the table, she subsided. 
Then she got up and gave her uncle a big hug.  "Thank you.  'Champ' and I
will make you proud."

   "I know you will, honey.  You've named him, I take it?"

   "Yes.  I think he'll be a champion and make me one, too.  So I'll call
him that.  Maybe he'll believe it."

   "If you tell him, I'm sure he will."

   For Christmas, Adoré didn't expect much.  She'd already been given Champ
after all.  There were several presents for her under the tree, though,
including a big box from Marty, with her name on it.

   She had no idea what it might be, but expected a new saddle pad or maybe
even a new saddle.  Opening it, she found another package, in bright
Christmas paper.  Opening that, she found a smaller package, and that
contained one yet smaller.  Finally, she opened the last package and found
displayed there a gold ring with a diamond set on it.

   Her mouth opened and tears came from her eyes.  It was too soon!  But it
was so RIGHT!

   She hit Marty playfully on the arm.  "You rat!  You know you should wait
until I'm sixteen at least!"

   "Well, you know how we talked about all the guys who hustle you.  I
wanted to get there first..." He kissed the tears from her cheeks, before
he gently kissed her lips.  "May I put it on you?"

   Breathless, she answered, "I think you'd better.  I'm shaking too much
to do it myself."

   That night, their lovemaking was not very spectacular.  They were both
too eager, and too much in love to worry about it.  They joined, they
satisfied each other and, content, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

   All too soon it was time for Adoré to return to Richmond.

   "Don't worry baby," Marty said.  "I'll see you right back here the
seventh of June."

   "But that's five months from now," Adoré wailed.

   "Hush, love.  It's a long time.  But we have a lifetime ahead of
us--together.  I'll cling to that thought.  We'll make it."

   She controlled herself--with great difficulty--until she was seated on
the airplane.  Belted into her first class seat, she gave herself over to
the tears that would not be denied.  Later she swore she cried all the way
to Richmond.

   In spite of daily letters and occasional phone calls, it was a tough
winter for both Marty and Adoré.

   Champ took a lot of Adoré's time--and probably kept her sane.  She had
to school him in jumping and dressage, and learn his foibles while she was
at it.  Her parents were surprised, then amazed when she said she had a new
horse and they had to arrange to have it flown from Oregon to Virginia. 
They were especially impressed that Adoré had recognized the potential in
the animal and had broken him herself.  (She preferred to say she'd
'gentled' him.) She claimed that Champ would make her a champion, just as
she had at the ranch.

   Adoré was a busy girl, with school, horse, and daily letters to her
fiancé.  At first, her friends were excited about her engagement--the first
in her circle, very young for that group.  Soon though, they found other
interests, since Adoré was not interested in giggly gossip about this boy
or that--or what it would be like to lose one's virginity.  And she was too
busy for much of the high school social scene.  Plus, of course, she would
not date.

   She progressed rapidly with Champ, soon having him performing basic
dressage and jumping, with honing to top level merely a matter of time and
practice.  Aside from that, she was turning into a dour, silent girl.  She
needed her man!  Her mother called Hazel, who cheerfully confided that
Marty wasn't in much better shape than Adoré.  Maybe they should get
together Easter?  Both mothers were encouraged that their offspring weren't
wavering in their devotion to their chosen, even though the separation was
terribly hard for them.

   Marty managed to spend a couple of weeks in Richmond over Easter.  And
the first of June, Adoré arrived in Portland again.  She'd only be able to
stay a week or so.  She was campaigning Champ in the Virginia horse shows,
and she needed to be home to work with him and attend the competitions.

   When she'd been on the ranch a few days, she asked Marty if they could
take an overnight ride.  She'd like to see more of the ranch and the
mountains Marty loved so much.

   Although she tried the western saddles again, Adoré just didn't find
them comfortable, so this time, she brought her old English rig with her
baggage.  She'd leave it at the ranch, so she'd have something 'civilized'
to ride on when she visited.  Her brother had given her a brand new saddle
for Christmas, anyway.

   Early in the morning, right after one of Hazel's 'stick to the ribs'
breakfasts, they were off, Marty handling a pack horse as well as his own
mount.  They headed southwest, up into the mountains.  The peak of the
middle 'Sister' was their aiming point.

   "Where are we going, Marty?" Adoré asked.

   "What does it matter?" he teased.  "It's all away from the house."

   "I'd like to be able to keep my bearings.  And to tell the others where
we went when they ask."

   "Just tell them we went up into the forest.  I'd just as soon you don't
tell them about this place.  It's my favorite spot and I'd hate to see it
ruined."

   "OK.  But where is it?"

   "Well, you follow this slope and keep climbing, with the middle Sister
in front of you.  Once you get over that ridge up ahead, turn more west. 
There's a real faint trail leads up over the next ridge.  Then you'll see
it."

   "What will I see, Marty?"

   "Why don't you just wait and see?" he grinned at her impatience.

   "Why won't you tell me?" she giggled back at him.

   "'Cause you're a greedy, impatient wench?"

   She hit him playfully, then trotted ahead.  At the top of the first
ridge, she turned to see how far he was behind her.  The panorama took her
breath away.  Spread before her was the ranch and the central valley of
eastern Oregon.  An exceptionally clear day, she thought she could see all
the way to Idaho.  (She couldn't but she could see easily a hundred miles.)

   When Marty and the packhorse reached her position, she leaned over and
kissed him hard.  "Have you ever seen anything more beautiful, Marty?" she
gushed.

   "Sure.  Lots."

   Stung, she challenged, "Like what?"

   "Like every time I look at you, baby," he answered quietly.

   Sudden tears sprang from her eyes.  "I hope we get there, wherever it
is, pretty soon.  I need you, real bad."

   "Soon enough, Love.  Take your time and enjoy the ride.  This is the
prettiest part of the ranch, I think.  I want to share it with you--often!"

   "OK.  OK.  I'll be good...  Or I'll behave.  Tonight, I'll be good."
They both chuckled.  The joke wasn't very original, but it did fit.

   Marty led them straight down the back of the ridge, not very far as the
trail soon began to climb again.  Adoré couldn't see what trail he was
following.  "It's there, honey.  Just stop a minute and _look_.  Don't
think about Virginia bridle paths.  Think about how you have to go to get
to the top of the ridge."

   Adoré closed her eyes for a minute.  Then opened them and scanned the
terrain and forest before her.  After a minute she said, "I think I see it.
Can I lead?"

   "Sure.  Go ahead."

   The trail was anything but straight, but it took the path of least
resistance to where they wanted to go.  And, once she got the hang of it,
the trail was as plain to see as if it was marked out with signs.

   At the top of the next ridge, she looked back and discovered that the
vista from here was really spectacular.  The earlier ridge was just a
teaser by comparison.  They were pretty high in the Cascades now, well into
the national forest.  When they turned to continue their ride, Adoré saw a
lovely meadow below them.  Green with lush grass and surrounded with
stately yellow pine, it was a perfect place to camp, with plenty of dead
wood for cooking fires.  A small stream ran across the meadow from the rock
basin of the spring that fed it.

   "Be careful going down here," Marty cautioned.  "I don't want to scuff
up this trail too much.  I'd just as soon nobody else finds this spot..."

   "It's lovely, Marty.  Thanks for bringing me here."

   "Well, you knew I'd take you to the prettiest place I could think of
where the others wouldn't bother us.  This is it."

   "You done good, my love.  Where do you want to camp?"

   They rapidly unloaded their gear and removed the tack from the horses.
With hobbles, they wouldn't have to worry about pegging them out.  Besides,
with the grass and water in the meadow, they weren't going to go anywhere.

   While Marty gathered wood for a fire and built a reflector for it from
sticks and sod, Adoré set out their bedrolls and unpacked the cooking
equipment.  There was some discussion about who was going to do the
cooking. Adoré won, saying she had never cooked for him and it was about
time he got some idea of how she could do.  And besides, he could cook
breakfast.

   Their meal was simple.  Steaks broiled over the flames, while potatoes
baked in the coals, and a can of beans warmed at the fire's edge.  When
they finished, they checked that the horses were OK for the night and laid
out their bed.

   That night, they made love under the stars for the first time.  Caring
intensely for each other, they were attentive lovers, gaining experience
rapidly.  They were also emotionally mature for their age, learning that
there was a lot more to their relationship than making love--or simple
fucking.  They cherished the relationship for itself...  and were
profoundly in love.

   *(c) 2001 Extar International, Ltd.  All rights reserved.  Single copies
for personal, non-commercial use may be downloaded or printed.  Any other
uses, including reposting, or posting on an archive site, must have prior
permission from Extar International.  Comments always welcome. 
<extar@hotmail.com>