Learning The Trade E-Book

Nicola Nichols

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Learning The Trade

Leseprobe

LEARNING THE TRADE

Little Jill: A Western Whore

BOOK TWO

Nicola Nichols

Copyright © 2021 Nicola Nichols

All Rights Reserved

1

I let my gaze drift out across the desert landscape, wanting to revel for a time in its apparent, deceptive emptiness. The desert teems with life, but signs of it can be scarce. In some odd way, that reassured me.

I traveled west, sharing a stagecoach with a preacher’s wife who had made this leg of the journey tortuous. That we were both headed west was our only common bond. Her sights were set on Navajo country, where she would meet her preacher husband and save the heathen savages. She wallowed in her self-righteous view of the world and rambled on about the heavy burden shouldered by those doing the Lord’s work, bringing them to God.

For my part, I was continuing a journey intended to take me from my parents’ house and reunite me with my husband who had gone ahead to homestead in Lizard Creek, in the New Mexico Territory. It had been an eye-opening journey, one of exciting experience that transformed me from a penniless young wife, to something grander.

Although I still headed for Lizard Creek, my life had changed, and while I still headed for Lizard Creek, I now traveled in a different universe—one that the preacher’s wife would never comprehend, even if she allowed herself to imagine it. I was a whore, new at the work, and while I was still learning the trade, I prided myself on being a quick and eager student of the profession.

Fortunately, at our next stop, in Samson Flats, the paths Mrs. Stuffy Preacherwoman and I followed diverged. While she went off to visit with her sister, I’d go off with a man, a man I’d never met.

I knew the man’s name, Clayton, and that he expected to meet a whore. He was paying to have me indulge his sexual fantasies during my layover in Samson Flats, but that was all I knew about him. The prospect excited my body and my mind, and I looked forward to providing him with whatever pleasures he desired.

I’d taken to this life when it was suggested by a lover, a banker named Warren Lewis. I hadn’t realized the amount of money I’d need to make the trip, and after feeding me and fucking me, he suggested that I could earn money by entertaining his clients. After enjoying my services, that client asked me to entertain a client of his. And I was started on my new career.

I knew I had experienced little of this new life; I knew I had much to learn about what pleased men, both the things I’d like and the things I’d never thought of. Despite my inexperience but based on the way things had gone so far, I was certain I wanted to pursue it the life. I wanted to learn more about men, learn more about their desires, and what it might take to slake their hunger for women.

When I resumed my trip, Warren gave me his telegraph address. He also wired Clayton, singing my praises, he said. That was how it came to be that I was meeting Clayton… a rich rancher who banked with the branch there.

The preacher’s wife would pray with her sister, and I would fuck a strange man.

At the station, I saw a dowdy woman embrace the preacher’s wife and hustle her off. As the men unloaded the bags, I turned my attention to a tall, thin man in of middle age, dressed in a fine suite. He held a bowler in his hand and ran a hand through his thin, sandy hair.

“Clayton?” I asked.

His eyes danced over me, then he smiled. “Little Jill?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“That’s right,” I said.

My birth name was Alice Larson, and my married name, Mrs. Dave Rogers, but when I started this adventure, heading west I’d adopted the name Jill. Jill Larson was the name I’d given Warren Lewis when we first met. Warren was my lover, my seducer, and the man who first raised the idea that I might like being a whore.

Along with recommending the life of a high-class whore, he was the one who gave me my nickname, started calling me Little Jill. As I am petite, the name seemed right. As far as that went, a men who paid to fuck me could call me whatever he wished.

“You certainly look as fine as Warren promised,” Clayton told me, his relief showing in his face.

I gave him a lingering look. “I can say the same about you, sir. And I’m looking forward to us doing a lot more than looking.”

That pleased him.

“Put the lady’s bag in my carriage,” he told the men unloading the stage. “It’s parked out front.” When he’d tipped them, he held out a hand and helped me in, just like he would a proper lady.

It was a fine start.

“I thought I’d take you to my ranch,” he said. “It will be private there.”

“Excellent,” I said, and off we went.

“I understand your layover here is for three days,” he said as we followed the dusty trail.

“That’s what the manager said. The stages run less frequently the further west I go.”

“Fewer people.” After a moment, he got to his point. “I know that our arrangement is for today and tonight, but I wondered… are you available tomorrow and through the night as well?”

“I have nothing planned,” I said.

“Now that I’ve seen you, if things go well, and I’m sure they will, perhaps you could stay with me a second day. At the same rate, of course,” he said, adding the last hurriedly.

It was a good rate, and as there was a branch of Warren’s bank here, I could deposit any I didn’t need for my trip in the account Warren had talked me into opening. I caressed his arm and leaned against him. “If that appeals to you, then I can make myself available. Are you afraid that I won’t be able to satisfy all your desires in one day?”

He laughed. “No, no, not at all. I was thinking about my son,” he said.

“Your son?”

“He comes home from boarding school tomorrow. He’s a strapping young lad, and this summer he will enter the social scene. Because we have money, he will be a target for the daughters of many families and the schemes of their parents.”

“I see,” I said, although I didn’t. “You think he will have his head turned in a wrong direction?”

“Lead him by his prick, more likely. I’d like you to teach him the difference between marriage sex and sex for pure pleasure, the distance between lust and love.”

“Ah.”

“I want him to be happy, and I’m a firm believer that happiness in marriage comes from marrying a woman who is right for a man’s heart and head. Some excellent wives, women like his mother, might not be the best source of sexual satisfaction. He needs to learn that he can hire a woman who will provide that and shouldn’t marry to get pussy.”

It was becoming clear. “You want me to be his first sexual experience and make it clear that a woman like me is always available, that there are other qualities he should look for in potential wife.”

“Right. He marries a partner, and if she doesn’t satisfy him sexually, his money will get him all the wonders he wants. Once he sees that, when he chooses to marry, it won’t be simply to get laid. Or he won’t get a girl pregnant and have to marry her. No, with that knowledge, if he picks a wife because of her sexual prowess, then that will be a deliberate choice, an adult choice.”

I found that Clayton’s arguments made a strange sort of sense. More significant at the moment, was that satisfying him, fucking his son, would earn me a nice sum of money.

“If that’s what you wish, I would be delighted to show him all the pleasures a willing whore can offer.”

“Perfect.”

I leaned against his arm. “Given your philosophy, I assume that today, for your time, we will try to fulfill desires your wife is reluctant or unable to satisfy.”

His eyes sparkled. “That is the idea.”

I enjoyed letting my mind summon up my own ideas of what a wife might not enjoy, the things we would do. These, I knew, were the things that would be of great value to me in my career. If I could excel at things wives didn’t allow, I’d be in constant, delicious demand.

“But now, I have to pee.” I said.

He glanced at me and smiled. “Here?”

“This seems to be where we are,” I said.

He stopped the carriage and gave me an eager smile. “Then I’ll watch.”

I smiled. “If that pleases you,” I said.

When he stopped the horse, I climbed out. He came around to my side of the carriage to watch as I hiked up my dress and pulled down my knickers. “You might as well take those off completely. Toss them in the carriage. You won’t need them until you leave.”

So I did. Then, holding my dress around my waist and balancing myself on the carriage with my free hand, I squatted. I glanced at him, seeing that this turned him on. I licked my lips as I let go a stream of warm urine that immediately soaked into the dry earth.

When I finished, I stayed there and looked at him. “Do you watch your wife pee?”

He grinned and chuckled. “No. Jane is a woman of modesty. I doubt she’d ever pee outside. She’d burst first. Although she revels in a hard fuck, she doesn’t enjoy nudity.”

“But you like it?”

“Spread your pussy lips apart for me,” he said by way of answer.

As I did as he asked, he undid his pants and worked out a stiff cock, holding it and stroking it in my face.

“Watching me excited your delicious prick,” I said, letting my delight float in my words.

“Yes. Enough that I want to fuck you now. I want to take you out here under this open sky. Please stand up and face the carriage.” I moved, and he got behind me, bending me forward. I grabbed the edge of the carriage, feeling him press the head of his cock between the lips of my pussy.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

I answered him with a wiggle of my ass that caused the head of his prick to slip inside me. Then, in case there was any doubt, I said: “Yes, Clayton. I want all of your hard cock inside me, fucking me.”

I did. I was glad he was horny because I was too. All the thinking about my life while the preacher’s wife droned on, remembering the variety of hard cocks I’d taken in the short time I’d been in my new line of work, had aroused me. Now I focused my attention on the one that Clayton thrust into me. I moaned at the delicious way it stretched my cunt as he penetrated me, filling my hungry cunt. I pushed my ass back to meet him, forcing his prick deeper inside me.

Gripping my hips, my new client took me energetically, pumping his manhood into me. I felt his desire, his burning and urgent need. Happily, even with that frenetic fucking, he lasted far longer than I expected before reaching his climax. I was near coming myself when I sensed the first warm rush of his spunk surging up my cunt and the sharp twitches of his prick that accompanied its release.

As his tool softened, and then slipped from me, I decided this job might prove to be a satisfying encounter—for me and my client. That made my work sweet.

Walking into Clayton’s big house, I thought it seemed hollow and empty. Deserted, perhaps.

He saw my curious look. “My wife has gone east for a time,” he said. “She’s visiting her sister and when she travels, she takes the maid with her. I gave the other staff a couple of days off.”

“So we have privacy to indulge your fantasies,” I said.

He nodded and pointed to a bar that sat on the side of the sitting room. “Fix us each a drink,” he said. “I’ll have a neat bourbon; make it generous. You have whatever you like.”

“That sounds good to me,” I said, heading over and setting up two glasses.

“It’s such a lovely warm day and we should take advantage of it,” he said, slipping off his coat and undoing his shirt buttons.

“By all means,” I said, pouring the amber liquid.

By the time I got back to him and handed him a glass, he was shirtless. “Let’s take these outside,” he said. He took my hand and led me out onto a patio that opened onto a beautiful green lawn edged by colorful flowers. “It’s so lovely,” I said as he sat on a long lounge chair next to a round table.

He sipped his drink. “I like it out here.”

I smiled. “But your wife won’t undress out here?”

He nodded. “It isn’t what proper ladies do.”

“But you crave a little of the improper?”

“I do. More than a little, perhaps.”

He smiled at me expectantly and I took the hint. After a long sip of my drink, I licked my lips while putting my glass on the table.

“And that’s why I’m here,” I said. I began undoing my dress, exposing my breasts to him and enjoying how the flush of arousal colored his neck. He sipped his whisky as I lowered my dress to my waist and then pushed it down my hips and stepped out of it, picking it up and putting it on the table.

Naked, except for stockings and shoes, I picked up my glass and turned for him, taking in the view as I sipped my drink. The house wasn’t my style, but I knew I could get used to living in places like it, with space and privacy when you wanted it. All it took was money, and I knew one way to get money. Whether that would ever be enough was another question.