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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cannes-d'Eau Episode 10: Hot from the Farm (Mf mf oral anal) {Varkel}
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Date: Sun,  7 Aug 2005 20:10:02 -0400
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Cannes d'Eau
Episode 10: _Hot from the Farm_

a Series by Varkel
Summer, 2005



Theodore Chalmers Cramdon awoke at dawn despite the unusual quiet in the
house.  He lay a moment, pleased to fondle an erection sensitized by an
uncomfortable bladder, recalling that until Monday his family and most 
of the servants were still gone into the mountains for the cooler air.
Only Enoch was left to tend his master, and this Saturday morning Enoch
remained in town, presumably having found strange -- or at least 
uncommon -- cooze.  Cramdon had his estate to himself for the weekend.

He rose and wandered through the house in his night shirt to the 
coolness of the back yard, intending to piss outdoors on his own 
property, a whimsy he indulged several times a year to emphasize his 
possession of it.  He had not always been rich nor always owned land of
his own.  With the place to himself not only could he piss on the bushes
at will, he could masturbate nude in the main parlor if he chose -- 
careful of course to catch the product in a handkerchief.  As he ambled
well away from the house, he considered the result should he do either 
in the presence of family or servants and laughed aloud at the thought 
of their expressions, then frowned darkly at the realization of all that
would follow.  "Ought to make them drink it," he jeered aloud.

He raised the tail of the night shirt, caught his still turgid member in
hand and cut loose on the inoffensive bush before him.  Smiling in 
satisfaction and relief, he cast a proprietary eye over the manicured 
lawn.

Suddenly a head of tangled hair, light brown when clean, popped into 
view just beyond the bush, revealing a girl's face.  Bright blue eyes 
scanned him from spouting penis to beard.  He would have quenched
the flow but for the pain of doing so in full flood.  This unknown girl
was a trespasser, which strengthened his resolve.  He stared back at 
her, thick stream undiminished.

Instead of the expected revulsion, her expression was one of interest.  
"Make them drink pee?" she asked in a piping voice.

This was not a small girl, though her face seemed very young.  She wore
an unbelted dress, wrinkled and stained, originally an indifferent shade
of blue paler than her eyes.

"What are you doing on my property," he demanded.

"Sleeping.  A dog scared me and you got a brick wall."

"How'd you climb it?"

"Dropped from a tree limb."

"A tomboy, are you?  Don't you have a home and a bed?"

"Not any more."

She came around the bush and stood at his hip, eyes on the now dribbling
member.  "That's a nice one.  It's rizz, ain't it?"

He studied the well-filled upper part of her garment, a prepubescent 
girl's knee-length dress now riding just above the knee.  One of the 
short sleeves had been torn off and not replaced.  The waist was too 
high on her torso.  It was meant to fit a smaller girl, one without the
emphatic chest and twin nipple points under the cloth.

"Rizz?"

"Ready to fuck."

"Not exactly, my dear.  Men often wake with -- ah, yes -- risen cocks."

She nodded.  "Piss hard-ons.  Can I feel it?"

Continuing to hold the night shirt up, he thrust his hips in her 
direction.  She took him in hand, snapped a leaf from the bush and wiped
the glistening tip.  Her hand jacked him several times.  "Sure feels 
ready!"

"Little miss, how is it that you are so familiar with a man's parts."

"My daddy and brothers raised me.  Daddy taught me how to please a man."
She looked up ingenuously and announced, "All men are alike."

"Peas in a pod.  Your daddy, eh?  And where is that free-thinking bast--
ah, gentleman?"

"In prison.  He got caught selling other people's horses."

"Presumably without their permission.  Such public spirit!  When did 
they put him away?"

"Last week."

"What's his name?"

"Caleb Tristam."

"And your name?"

"Amalda."

He grunted.  "I'm Chalmers Cramdon."

She blinked.  "I've heard of you.  This is your place?"

"Yes, it is."

"I ain't got none now."

The girl stood a head shorter than the man, whose penis she continued to
stroke slowly.

He looked down at her gentle hand.  "What else can you do to one of 
these?"

"Suck it.  Fuck it.  Anything you want."

"Where's your mother?"

"Dead when I was born'd."

"Your daddy and brothers raised you?  How many brothers?"

"Two, older'n me."

"No wonder you talk a good fuck!  Where are those uncouth brothers?"

"Got jobs in St. Louis.  Least, that's what they said."

"Think they'll be looking for you?"

She shrugged.  "They been gone since New Year's."

"Where was your daddy's place?"

"Near Lillington."

"That's a long walk!"

"Didn't walk.  Uh, if I do what you want, can I have something to eat?"

"Do I understand correctly that you'll pleasure me in exchange for 
food?"

"Pleasure?"

"Fuck me."

She nodded.  A lascivious expression appeared on the girl's otherwise 
young, innocent face.  The organ in her hand actually grew firmer.

"I know how to fuck," she said, jacking faster.

"Yes,  Amalda, I suspect you do.  _Amalda_.  That sits too long on the 
tongue.  Let's try _Amy_.  Will you answer to Amy?"

"'Amy,'" she repeated thoughtfully.  "I like it."

"Come with me into the house.  You'll have the run of my pantry for the
next couple of days.  Then I'll find a place for you to stay."


* * *


In the kitchen Cramdon removed her single garment.  As the dress went 
over her head, she paused only briefly in her voracious swilling of 
meat, bread, fruit, cider and milk.  She stood beside the table while 
his hands roamed her at will, especially the high breasts with the 
conical shape of youth.  Fingers probed her vagina and found no 
obstacle.

"How old are you?" he asked the naked girl.  She had worn only the 
single garment.  "Your pretty face suggests ten or eleven, but your body
looks sixteen."

"I'm thirteen," she said through a mouthful of sweet cake.  "Be fourteen
next month."

"Save some food for later, girl.  Let's get you cleaned up for a round 
of pleasuring."

Her eyes sparkled.  "That means fucking!"

"Oh yes.  Come on.  You need a bath even worse than a camp follower.  
We'll use the servant's bathroom."

"What kind of camp?"

"It refers to women who follow soldiers in the field."

"Soldiers?  I never thought of them.  Will they feed a gal?"

"Cock especially.  Come along now."

In the course of the next half hour he washed the girl's body and hair,
relishing the soft flesh beneath his hands.  His night shirt long 
discarded, he led her into the adjacent bedroom.  She scooted onto the 
mattress immediately.

"You seem eager enough," he said, looking down at her well-fleshed, 
shapely legs and the sparse pubic bush. "How many men have you 
pleasured?"

"Just my daddy, unless brothers count."

"Count at what?  They fucked you too?"

"All the time."

"Did they have girlfriends?"

"I was the only girl on the place."

"Good!  Then you're probably clean.  When did you bleed last?"

"Bleed?  I scratched a mosquito bite just --"

"I mean between the legs."

"Oh.  That stopped just yesterday.  Good thing too.  I couldn't find any
fig leaves."

"Fig leaves?"

"I lost my rags.  What you care about that for?"

"Because a week or so before and after the onset of your monthly 
bleeding, you are unlikely to become pregnant."

She blinked.  "Become what?"

"Caught."  He grunted.  "I thought all girls knew that word."

"Caught, like Daddy?"

"No, caught like a mare after the stud has been turned to her."

"Huh?  Oh, you mean _knocked up_."

"Right.  I'm saying you can reduce the chance of getting knocked up if 
you're careful when you fuck."

"Really?  I didn't know that."

"I'm surprised you haven't yet made a baby."

"Daddy and my brothers always pulled out at the last minute and squirted
on my boobs or face."

"Even so, you've been lucky.  But you're safe for the next week."

He sat on the edge of the bed to re-explore the clean young flesh, but 
mostly he wanted to taste.  He suckled the firm, pert breasts, 
respectable in size though not yet possessing the fullness of maturity.
His mouth tarried on the smooth belly and against soft inner thighs.  At
last he licked the half bald vulva.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, lifting wide eyes.

"Does it hurt?"

"Oh, no!  It feels ...  It feels ..."

"Feels how?"

"So good!"

"You mean Daddy and brothers missed something?"

"_I_ missed something.  No one ever did this before!"

A few minutes later, after her first noisy climax, he mounted her and 
pressed his fat member into the tight, slippery hole.  She returned his
thrusts with evident enthusiasm, climaxing again.  Her agitation 
hastened his own climax and he spewed into her depths.

He dropped onto his side, breathing deeply, and held her with an arm 
under her shoulders.  "Well, Amy, now you've fucked a stranger you just
met."

She grinned at him.  "I ain't sorry."

"I believe you enjoyed the experience!"

"I always do, but what your tongue did ..."

"What about it?"

"Ooo!"

He chuckled.  "Tell me this: would you fuck two or three strangers a day
in exchange for a nice place to live, fine clothes and all the food you
want?"

Her eyes opened wide.  "Oh, sure!"

"In that case, Amy, I know just the place for you.  But not until 
tomorrow evening.  Until then I intend to explore each of your major 
orifices a number of times."

"My --  But I don't have any offices."

Reasoning that this was not yet a common whore, he kissed her lips for 
the first time.  "I'll explain as we go along."  He wriggled two fingers
at her anus.  "Did Daddy do you here?"

"No," she answered in breathy wonder, "but I know it feels good."

"Let's verify that."

He returned from the kitchen with a larded thumb.  At his direction she
turned belly down and knelt with upraised buttocks, regarding him with 
interest over her shoulder as the thumb probed her anus.  He caught her
hips and waddled against her, pressing his greased organ into the 
delicate rosebud.  She made a face and groaned.

"Just relax," he told her.  "Don't squeeze."

"If I do relax ..." she began.  An oddly hissing flatulence sounded and
suddenly he popped through the sphincter.

"Oh!" she gasped and immediately began to giggle.  He chuckled, setting
off a peal of girlish laughter that he found contagious, not least for 
the diaphragm flutters passed through her entrails.  He pistonned 
himself to full penetration and sent two fingers around her hip to 
stroke the swollen clitoris.  Gradually she relaxed all over.  "Ooo," 
she murmured.  "You make it gooder and gooder."

At his age the second ejaculation was not easy.  She gave evidence of 
two other climaxes, including a nipping sphincter, before he responded 
in kind.  At last he flopped, exhausted, on the bed beside her.  "God, 
Amy, you're a wonder!"

She stretched and rolled over against him.  Her hand went behind her.  
She held up wet fingers.  "You done come twice in one morning!"

"You seemed surprised."

"One time Brother Clem sneaked back from the field and did me twice."

"Thank you, my dear."

"Huh?"

"It's sweet to be told one can fuck like a teenage boy."

"Oh.  He didn't fuck me up the ass.  Do only old men like it there?"

"Old men may be less squeamish.  Hmm.  Why did you say, 'old _men_?'"

"Well, I'm a-guessing you's older than Daddy."

"But you said he didn't ...  Wait a minute.  You also said you didn't 
walk here from Lillington.  So how'd you get here?"

"On a train."

"Oh.  You had enough for a ticket, did you?"

"Enough what?  Didn't need money.  Good thing, 'cause I ain't got none.
The Illinois Central tracks run by Daddy's place.  I'm a-watching the 
trains yesterday when along comes one with an open boxcar, going real 
slow.  This old man is a-looking out the door.  He sees me standing 
beside the track and stretches out his arms.  I just reach up and grab 
on.  He pulls me right in."

Cramdon's chin dropped.  He rose on an elbow.  "You what?  He _what_?"

She smiled slightly.  "He was one strong old devil."

"Was he!"

"Yeah.  He throws me back in the straw and pushes my dress up."  She 
chuckled a little.  "Course I got a bloody rag tied on and think that'll
stop him.  Guess what."

Cramdon sighed.  "I'm afraid to guess."

"Well, it does sort of stop him.  He pulls the rag off, sticks his 
pecker in my pussy once, then turns me over and shoves it up my ass.  
That hurts!  Who would think he'd do such a thing?"  She grinned lazily.
"I'm learning fast."

"My god, he fucked you up the ass?  All the way?"

"Huh?  Far's his pecker would reach, I guess."

"I mean did he come?"

"I guess.  Didn't take him long.  After that he wants to talk some.  
Says he's called Old Bill.  Gives me some sausage to eat.  And a jug of
moonshine to drink from.  Burns my mouth but I'm thirsty.  Wants me to 
suck him."  She sighed.  "But he couldn't get it up again."

"My god, Amy!"

"In the morning the train's standing and he's gone.  Some man in a blue
suit sees me drop down from the boxcar and chases me, but I outrun him.
I try to steal a dress on the line but a dog takes after me, runs me up
a tree.  He won't leave, sticks around all day.  I'm so thirsty!  A limb
hangs over this brick wall.  I work around to it and drop down to the 
ground and right away come to a little branch.  It's cool and wet and I
drink till my belly gurgles, wash my pussy too, but the bleeding has 
stopped.  I go up a hill till it gets too dark, fall asleep under the 
bush where you nearly peed on me."

Slowly Cramdon shook his head.  "Old Bill, eh?  Would you like to see 
him punished for raping you?"

"For doing what?"

"No, I can see you didn't really mind."  He sighed and shook his head.
"Some women truly live a different kind of life!  You sucked him when he
asked, did you?"

"Sure.  But it didn't do no good."

"Well, on this one it might."

"Ooo, it's rizz again!"


* * *


"You know, Ted, I don't really need another girl just now."  Madam Ruth,
made up and dressed for the evening, sat behind her big desk.  The 
setting sun shone through the tall windows behind her, limning the 
hennaed hair.  "Business falls off in hot weather.  Of course, I also 
don't want to antagonize you.  You've been important to the success of 
Cannes d'Eau."

Cramdon waved a hand negligently.  "Don't worry about me.  But I see 
I've expressed myself poorly.  Actually I don't want Amalda to service 
your clientele, even though she talks like a full-blown harlot and has 
the same attitude."  He grinned sheepishly.  "The fact is in the past 
couple days she's become too precious to me to let her go.  May I board
her here?  I'll pay whatever you ask."

The woman scowled.  "I'm not in the business of renting rooms, Ted, for
longer than a night -- especially to pubescent girls.  Furthermore it 
seems you'll visit the child for your pleasure and cease to be a paying
customer."

His grin became confident.  "Cannes d'Eau won't suffer, not with you in
charge."

She leaned back in her chair.  "It will be expensive for you."

"I can afford it, Ruth.  I made a fortune supplying the Philippines 
pacification."

"So I've heard.  Why don't you put her up in a boarding house?"

"Huh!  If I visited her, you know very well how fast the word would get
out.  I'd feel far more secure having her live with you."

The woman studied him thoughtfully.

He continued, "I can think of another alternative, such as letting her 
stay with retired women who wouldn't pay attention to my visits.  I mean
retired whores."

She shook her head and said dryly, "Retired whores, Ted, keep their gold
under the mattress, not in their hearts.  They'd blackmail you in an 
instant."

"Oh."

She mused, "There's unused space in the attic that could be walled and 
ventilated."

"I'll pay for the changes!  But I need to move the girl in today.  
Tomorrow my family and the servants return.  Surely you have a spare 
bedroom."

Ruth's gaze turned to Amy, who stood apart on pigeon-toed bare feet, 
wearing the same wrinkled blue dress.  Her hair had been combed but 
straggled down her back.  The girl's height and almost mature body were
inconsistent with the childish face.  Ruth understood the contrast that
fed Cramdon's passion.  Indeed she felt a touch of it herself.

"I assume you want her properly outfitted."

"Well ... yes."

"You sound doubtful.  But this one dress is all she owns, right?"

"It's not the money, Ruth.  Go ahead and buy her what she needs -- as a
young girl."

Ruth chuckled.  "You can't keep her an ignorant farm girl, Ted.  Girls 
learn what they have to know wherever they are."

He took a deep breath.  "I guess you're right."

"You know I am.  Okay.  I'll compute my expenses then give you a price."

He brightened.  "Splendid!  I'll leave her in your care.  Amy, dear, 
give us a sweet kiss."

The girl looked anxious.  "You gonna leave me here tonight?"

"Yes, dear.  But you _know_ I'll be back!"

"Can I ... can I kiss your pecker?"

Ruth could not suppress a twitch of suprise.  "Precious indeed!"

Cramdon grinned lamely.  "Now you see what I mean."


* * *


Amy sat on the edge of the bed in her newly assigned room that was 
larger than any in her father's home.  Aside from the big bed, it 
contained a table, chairs and a commode with pitcher and wash basin.  An
electric fan whirred in the open window, its breeze ruffling her hair.
Beyond the window dusk was falling.  The door to the hall stood open.  
Painted in gilt on one of its varnished panels was the number, 23.

She had just finished her first meal in the dining room downstairs.  
These quarters and food were far better than she had ever known before,
but what was she going to do between Mr. Cramdon's visits, which he had
said would only be twice a week?

"Hey!" called a high voice.

Amy turned as a young girl advanced through the open door.  "I'm Sally,"
said the newcomer with a bright smile.  She was a pale blonde, long hair
streaming behind her, in a clean grey dress and brown pinafore 
embroidered in pink rosebuds.

"And I'm Tunny," announced a slightly shorter boy who followed her in.
He wore jeans and a dirty short-sleeved shirt.  Both newcomers were 
barefooted.

"My name is Amy," she said, turning fully to face them.  "How old are 
you?"

"Thirteen," Sally announced.  "Both of us."

"So am I," said Amy.

"Your _face_ looks thirteen," agreed the boy doubtfully.

"All of me's thirteen!" Amy retorted.  "You both live here?"

"Yeah," they responded together.

"But this is a whore house.  Do people pay to fuck you?"

Sally blinked, perhaps at the frankness.  "Not really.  I guess they 
think I'm still too little, although I've already had my womanhood 
auction."

"Your what?"

"You know, where they auction off your cherry."

Amy's eyes widened and her chin dropped.

Not to be outdone, Tunny declared, "A guy once offered me five dollars,
but I turned him down."

"Five dollars!  To do what?"

"Get naked and lie still.  Are you a new girl?  Clancy said you wa'n't 
supposed to do tricks."

"Tricks?"

"You know: fuck."

Amy sighed.  "Mr. Cramdon is paying to keep me here.  I'm only supposed
to fuck _him_.  He said he'll visit me during my safe period."

"What's that?" the boy asked.

Sally thumped his shoulder.  "That's when I let you fuck me.  I don't 
want to get knocked up."

"You two fuck?" Amy asked conversationally.

"I have to share her with the senator," Tunny remarked.

"Not too often," said Sally, staring at him pointedly.

Amy gazed appreciatively at the pretty boy and said, "Mr. Cramdon told 
me I won't be a whore, but he said nothing about boys who don't pay."

Sally's eyes flared.  "Tunny is mine!"

Tunny protested, "I share you with the Senator.  It's only fair for me 
to try out other girls."

"You already do, Tunny -- most of the girls in this house!"

"That's not the same," the boy said, extending a hand to squeeze one of
Amy's breasts, which were far better developed than anything on Sally's
chest.

"Damn it, Tunny!" screamed Sally.  She caught his shoulder and threw him
back bodily.  He scrambled away and she chased him from the room.  Amy 
scurried to the doorway and watched them proceed down the hall, Sally 
admonishing the boy for his "rudeness" and "ill manners" and Tunny 
mumbling apologies.  Reaching the stairs, he managed one last glance 
over his shoulder.  Even at that distance his wink was unmistakable.

Amy smiled but muttered plaintively, "I never had a girl friend."


* * *


She searched her room but found nothing of interest except a dime novel
entitled, _Tammy's Sweet Love_.  The room was now too dark to read 
despite the light in the hall, and she had discovered no oil lamp and 
matches.  She sat on the bed and considered a nap, but Cramdon had let 
her sleep very late that Sunday morning.

The house was noisier.  Unintelligible voices penetrated the walls, 
along with the clash of crockery from the dining room still in use 
downstairs.  Feet trod in the hall and voices grew louder.  She went to
the open door.  A man and woman were approaching.  His hand fondled a 
breast freed from her low-cut gown.  Her face was heavily painted.  She
craned her neck and licked his ear, causing him to duck.

His eye fell on Amy and he declared through his grin, "Hey, a new girl!"

The woman's smile froze.  Her eyes flashed.  "What're you doing here, 
kid?"

Amy stammered, "Uh, uh, b-boarding, I think."

"That's right, Madam Ruth mentioned her at supper."  The woman recovered
her smile.  "She's _reserved_, honey, too young for you anyway.  Here's
my room."

The coupled disappeared and the door closed behind them firmly.  Shortly
a giggle penetrated it.

Amy sighed, returned to her bed and lay back.  Her eyes were drifting 
shut when a voice said, "Oops!  Didn't know you was asleep."

She rose on an elbow and dimly perceived the boy, Tunny, standing just 
inside the door.  "I'm not."

"If you want to go to sleep, you oughta shut the door so the drunks 
don't fall in on you.  Huh!  What're you doing in the dark anyhow?"

"Ain't no lamp."

"Lamp?"  He twisted a small knob mounted on the wall beside the door.  
An electric bulb dangling from the ceiling burst into brilliance, 
causing her to blink.

"Gosh!"  She sprang out of bed.  "How'd you do that?"

With an expression of pleased wonder she turned the knob several times,
flicking the bulb on and off.  "Electricity," she murmured.

"Well, at least you _heard_ of it!  What'd you think turns that fan?"

She stared at the boy.  "I didn't think.  What you want?"

He grinned mischievously.  "Thought you might want to see something 
good."

"What?"

"Ludie snagged herself a pair of brothers."

"Ludie?"

"One of the girls.  She's a tangger."

"What's that?"

"Want to see her at work?"

"Uh ...  They let you _watch_?"

He chuckled at her incredulous expression.  "No, they don't.  Well, 
Ludie wouldn't holler, but the men would.  We can watch anyways."

"She leaves her door open?"

"No.  Come on.  I'll show you how."

The barefoot youths slipped silently up the short hall and down the long
hall to the closet at the front of the house.  Most of the many doors 
stood open upon dark rooms.  The door at the end of the hall was closed.
After checking back over his shoulder, Tunny opened it, shoved some 
hanging garments to one side and exposed a steeply rising staircase.

"Come on up but keep quiet."

"What kind of room is this?" she asked.

"You never seen a closet before?"

After closing the door behind them, Amy followed him up to a partially 
floored attic stretching into dim distance.  It contained several 
trunks, boxes and discarded furniture.  At the far rear crouched 
powerful electric motors to drive the ducted fans that would ventilate 
the lower floor when the outside air had cooled.  She kept close to the
boy as he wove among the discards.

At the edge of the flooring he warned softly, "Careful now.  Only walk 
on the joists."

Windows under the eaves admitted enough light from the city beyond for 
her to see and mimic where he placed his feet.  He led her to two holes
in the planking below the joists, which she realized must be the ceiling
of the room below.  He motioned to one and bent his own face to the 
other.  Light sparkled on his expectant eye.

She lowered her face and peered straight down to a bed.  It seemed to 
contain two men, each face down, one lying before the other.  The head 
of the one behind was bent to one side to avoid the other's buttocks.  
They wore white shirts and suspended stockings.  White butt cheeks 
gleamed, dimples appearing and disappearing.  But the bed contained too
many arms and legs.  She soon realized that the men covered a woman's 
torso.  One was humping the concealed vulva, the other the face.

Amy breathed, "Two men at once!"

"You ever do that?" asked Tunny.

"N-no."

"You watch: she'll get them both in her bottom in a minute."

"Wh-where?"

"Ludie likes two cocks at once.  She'll take them anywhere, in separate
holes or together in her pussy or even her asshole."

"Two in her asshole?"  She had turned to regard the lad, mouth open.  
Her hand went under her skirt.

Barely visible to her, he grinned up from his peephole.  "You like that
idea?  I'll bet you love to fuck."

"It feels so good!"

He studied her dim face.  "You really love cocks, don't you?"

She licked her lips.

He chuckled and fumbled at his waist.  "Want to try this one?"

"I want ...  I don't want to make Sally mad."

"You think I'd tell her?  Look, it's already hard."

He guided her hand.  "Huh!" she sniffed.

"What's the matter?"

"It's ... different."

"You know a lot about cocks, do you?"

"Well, five besides this one."

"Just five?  What's different about mine?"

"It's so little!"

"I'm still a kid!" he declared defensively.

"Can I ..."  She hesitated.

"Can you what?"

"Suck it?"

"Oh."  His voice softened.  "Sure.  You suck it and I'll tell you what 
Ludie's doing."

He twisted his torso so that the exposed groin faced her.  She hitched 
herself around, bent and enclosed him.  He grunted.

She suckled him briefly before raising her head.  "Thought you were 
gonna tell what Ludie's doing."

Both heads went down.  He stiffened.  "They're switching!  Take a look."

She abandoned the stiff little organ to reapply her eye to the spy hole.
The woman below had turned on her back atop one of the men.  Her hand 
reached under one hip to guide his penis.

Amy asked, "You think she's putting it in her asshole?"

"Yeah.  And it ain't going."

One of the men knelt beside the superimposed couple.  After watching 
their contortions, he spat into his hand, leaned closer and stroked the
unsuccessful penis several times.

"Ho, ho!" murmured Tunny.  "You don't see one guy grab another one's 
cock that often.  Must be queer."

"He's just making it wet."

"I guess that's the idea," responded Tunny as the stroker at last 
effected the penetration.  After a few convolutions of the joined hips,
the kneeler wheeled over the two bodies and lowered himself carefully 
between the woman's raised legs.  The threesome began to move in a 
complex rhythm.

"They really are fucking her together!" breathed Amy.

"Yeah!  Now come on, suck me."

"But she's a pretty woman."

"The prettier they are, the more they like to fuck."

She raised her head to regard him.  "Who told you that?"

"Well, it's true around here.  You ought to see Maybelle when she gets 
going."

"Who's she?"

"My mother.  She's the prettiest."

"Oh.  You know your mother?"

"Everybody knows his _mother_!  Now suck me, damn it."

She rotated to his groin and produced slurping sounds.  He twitched.  
"What in hell are you doing?"

Her face lifted with a wet grin.  "I wondered if I could.  Don't sucking
everything feel better?"

He blinked.  "Balls and all!"  He frowned.  "Only 'cause I got such a 
little cock."

"Well, yes," she admitted.  "But don't it feel good?"

"Balls ain't got no feeling but hurt.  Suck the cock, right on the knob.
And don't go bragging how your mouth took everything I got."

"Bragging?"  It was her turn to blink.  She shrugged and lowered her 
face.

Attention to the knob soon brought results.  Her mouth filled with the 
familiar, tasteless liquid.  She swallowed avidly, still gently sucking.
He grunted with each squirt, his body shuddering, but allowed her to 
retain the organ.  At last her face rose, dry-lipped.

She grinned at him, mouth working briefly.  "Did you like that?"

"Yeah."  He took a deep breath and backed away on the open joists.  "I 
... I got to go check on the kitchen stoves."

"Stoves?"

He reached the flooring and stood up to button his fly.  "Keeping the 
scuttles full is my job.  See you later."

"But ..." she began, eyes wide and mouth fallen open as he turned away.
"What about _me_?" she called after him piteously, but he had 
disappeared in the stacked junk.

Her hand slipped under the dress that was still her sole item of clothing 
and her eye returned to the spy hole.  The threesome below was arrayed
as last seen, though the motion had grown frenzied.  Cocking her ear to
the hole, she heard the meaty slapping of flesh.  Her own climax arrived
as the three below separated to lie, grinning and panting, in each 
others' arms.


* * *


A knock woke her.  The whirring fan in the window reminded her where she
was just as the door opened to admit light from the hall.  A dark figure
entered the room.  The overhead bulb flared to reveal a strange man 
standing in the doorway, his hand on the rotary switch.  No, not quite a
stranger.  She recalled seeing him in the dining room at supper.

In the warm night she lay naked atop the bedcovers.  She thought of 
springing up to get her dress, hanging nearby over a chair, but weren't
girls supposed to be naked in whorehouses?

As he approached the bed she rose on an elbow to study him.  He was bald
with a pepper-and-salt fringe on his temples.  Most of his head hair had
apparently concentrated in a heavy black handlebar moustache.

"I'm Jake Dawson," he said in a deep voice.

"You was at supper."

"Yeah.  Madam Ruth mentioned you."  He stood looking down at her and 
grinned.  "Your name is Amalder, or something like that.  You're 
special."

"Call me Amy."

"Okay, Amy.  How come you're special?"

He wore formal clothing whose fineness she noticed.  She smelled whisky
and cigars, odors familiar from her father, especially the whisky.

"Special?  I guess I'm not supposed to fuck for money."

"That's special enough here."  His grin widened as his hand dropped to 
caress a conical breast and pinch the sharp nipple.  She caught her 
breath.

"I'm checking on you on my way to bed," he explained, a forefinger of 
the other hand falling unerringly upon the thickening flesh above her 
clitoral tip.  "Just locked the foyers.  It's two o'clock on Monday
morning and only a couple of all-nighters are left."

Curiosity caused her to ask despite the pleasure spreading in her groin,
"Ludie's two brothers?"

"Yeah.  Ha!  How'd you know about them?"

"Two at once."

"Yeah, two at once.  You like that idea, do you?"

She shivered.

He chuckled and asked ironically, "Who's Ruth think she's fooling?"  His
coat went over a chair.  With a snap the suspenders popped off his 
shoulders and he stepped out of fallen britches that were left crumpled
on the floor.  He wore no underpants.  She stared at the oddly shaped 
penis thrusting out from between white shirt tails.

"Fooling?" she asked.

"About you not being ready to fuck."

"Oh, I'm _ready_!  What ... what's wrong with your pecker?"

"Some girls really like it."  He thrust it close to her face.  She 
smelled peanuts, again as she had with her father.  He chuckled.  "It's
got a big head that knocks a womb pretty damn good, so they tell me."

Indeed the swollen glans, uncovered by erection as some are, was thicker
than the supporting shaft.

"Ooo!" she breathed.

"Where do you want it?"

She spun sideways on the bed, fell back and drew up her knees.

"That's plain enough," he admitted, sagging between her legs.  "Put it 
in for me."

She caught the member and guided it with a sideways riffle to part 
labial lips.  He thrust strongly and she grunted as it squished into 
her.

"A real wet one, by god!" he exclaimed, falling more upon her, hands 
descending to clutch her buttocks.  Her arms encircled his neck and 
their mouths met in a slobbery kiss that endured despite the 
complementary motion of their hips.

Womb knocking?  She felt the strong blows deep in her belly that 
confirmed the words.  Her father's member had done almost as much.  Her
sight dimmed as ringing bells and flashing lights erased her thoughts.

When he finally lifted off her, she lay gasping for breath, her body a 
solid bar of fast-fading bliss.  He stood looking down at her with a
contented grin.

She surged up, caught him around the waist and begged with voice muffled
in his shirt, "Don't leave me, Jake."

"You want me to stay the night?"

"I want you to fuck me again."

She felt his chuckle.  "Do you!  Then clean me up."

"Huh?"  She withdrew enough to look up into his face.

"Suck my cock clean."

She took it willingly.  Belatedly she understood why the taste was 
strange.  When released, it no longer dripped.  She backed away, licking
her lips.

He unbuttoned his starched shirt.  "I'll stay with you a little while, 
but I have to roust out Ludie's boys at half-past seven."  He threw the
shirt over his coat, removed shoes and stockings and grinned at her.  
"You like womb knocking, do you?"

She took a deep breath.  "I love you, Jake."

"Of course you do, honey.  Either they love it or they hate it.  How 
about in the asshole?  Some girls get off popping the ring."

She shook her head, forefinger pointing unmistakably.  "Right here, 
Jake."

He shrugged.  "Since I ain't paying, it's whatever you say."  He 
returned to the door to turn off the overhead light.  A moment later she
felt his weight bounce the bed.  His hands caught her.

"This time you can do the work."

"Work?"

"You can get on top.  But first tell me how you learned so young to love
fucking."


* * *


"Come in."

Cramdon opened the door, stepped into the office and closed it behind 
him.  Madam Ruth looked up from her desk.

He asked, "Did you send for me?"

"Yes, Ted, I did.  Come over here and sit down.  We need to talk."

He marched across the carpet, took the indicated chair before the desk 
and removed a white rectangle from his coat.  "I've got a check here, if
that's the problem.  Tell me what I owe you."

She nodded.  "Let's get that out of the way first."  She slid a business
paper across the desk.  "Her outfitting, quality stuff as you specified,
came to $183.  Her room and board for two weeks is another hundred."

"Fifty per week for room and board?  Now Ruth, you know --"

"I told you it would be expensive."

He gulped.  "All right.  I guess I have to sit still for it."

"It's because she's using facilities that could make money."

"Facilities?  You mean her room?  How are the attic renovations coming?"

"Scheduled for Tuesday.  But I think I'm going to cancel them."

His hand, reaching for a pen to fill out the check, paused.  "Cancel 
them?  Why?"

The madam smiled ironically.  "Mainly to make her happy."

"Happy?  What do you mean?"

Ruth studied him narrowly.  "What did you expect of her, Ted?"

"Expect?  Hmm.  Nothing much, I guess.  That she wait for me and stay 
out of trouble."

"She has done neither."

He blinked.  "She hasn't ..."

"Ted, I recently discovered some interesting facts about your baby-faced
Amy.  In the first week she was here, besides entertaining you twice, 
she fucked every male in the place, including Razor and young Tunny, at
least twice.  Jake Dawson, my imperturbable houseman with the knobby 
cock, was so taken he spent every night with her.  Girls in the rooms on
either side complained of the bed noises, which is how I found out."

Cramdon had perked up.  "Jake, that pussy-footing bastard?  He's been 
fucking my Amy?"

She grunted.  "Every night for a week.  She says his knobby cock sends 
her to heaven."

"You fired him of course."

"No, I did not.  He saved my life on at least two occasions.  He can 
have any female in the place.  Except Amy.  I ordered him to leave her 
alone, which I believe he has done since, despite her importunities."

"You mean she pursued him?"

"I told you: she loves his cock.  I've heard other girls rave about it.
If it's any consolation, they seem to like the man a lot less than his
equipment."

"Nevertheless I should speak to him."

"You leave him alone, Theodore Cramdon!  Speak to your hot little tart 
if you must speak to someone."

"Now, Ruth, she's not --"

"The devil she isn't!"  The woman's eyes glinted.  "As soon as some of 
the girls showed her how to wear her new clothes, your baby-faced 
round-heel was down in the parlor soliciting customers of her own -- 
except of course on the nights you were expected."

"She ... she _what_?"

"And she pocketed their money herself."

He stood up suddenly.  "I certainly shall speak to her!"

"And tell her what?"

"She can't _do_ that!"

The madam smiled cynically.  "You'd do better telling the rain to quit 
falling; it will eventually mind you.  This is a girl who loves fucking 
even better than I do."

"Well, I'll ... I'll lock her up."

Ruth shook her head.  "They call that kidnapping, Ted.  By no stretch is
she your daughter."

"Well, no, of course not!"  He took his own deep breath.  "What do you 
suggest?  I don't want to ... lose her."

"You already have, if you had any idea of exclusive access."  She 
studied him thoughtfully.  "I do have a proposal."

"Let's hear it."

"Let her turn professional."

"You mean ..."

"Let her do properly -- if that's the right word -- what she's already 
doing behind our backs.  I'm willing to try her, Ted.  If she sticks --
though she may not.  Girls with strong appetites tend to cling to the 
men who send them to heaven.  But if she sticks, you can still keep your
schedule with her."  The woman grinned.  "It'll cost you a lot less 
money."

"You said business was off."

"Not that far."

He thought a moment.  "She's ... _clinging_ to Jake?"

"Initially.  She dropped him when he dropped her, but you know others 
will come along."

He produced a long sigh.  "I guess you're right."

"You had her for what, a couple days?  You must have noticed her 
eagerness."

He nodded slowly.  "That, and her innocence."

The madam laughed frankly.

"What?" he asked, blinking.

"How we believe what we want to believe!  She was never innocent, Ted, 
except in her looks."


END

Contacts:
Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis: kellis@dhp.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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