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Meet Gemma - A real pro!

1/19/2007

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Gemma peeked around the corner of the hall into the parlour
and scanned the waiting clientel. There was that Denton
fellow, who liked a fast screwing and then spent an hour
sucking on the girl's tits. Then there was Tate Jackson.




Now that was a likely one. He liked to pump away for as long
as the girl would allow (which was fine with Gemma, as long
as she wasn't needing to work the rest of the night)
but it seemed like the man would never come. And he had no
finesse. He just climbed on and went at it. The only other
one was that Tommy Dickens, who worked all week long just
to come down to the whore house for a fifteen minute fuck.
Wham, Bam and Gone.




"Boring."


Gemma muttered under her breath. She just ... knew... that
if she walked through the room, one of them would grab her
and she'd have to bite her tongue not to say something
deadly. And Miss Lily didn't much appreciate her girls
getting nasty with the customers.




She didn't know what was wrong with her lately. She
liked sex. Always had, ever since she'd found out at
nine years old that something down there sure felt good
when you rubbed it. She was only twelve when she found out
a man could make you feel really good. And she'd been
at it ever since, one way and another. But the last couple
of weeks she had been real choosey about her customers.
Miss Lily had even asked her a couple of times if there was
something wrong. She'd just shake her head and mumble
some excuse about being out of sorts and go up to her room.




The front door swung open and a familiar voice called out,
"who'd be hidin' the whiskey from me this
time?"


And Percy strode into the parlour.




Now ... there... was a man Gemma could bed with passion.




"Bloody well right, " she said, and straightened
her shoulders and swayed into the room.


Percy smiled as he saw Gemma enter the parlour and walked
up to her. She was possibly one of the most beautiful women
in Miss Lily's, if not the most beautiful in the town.




"Good evening lass."


He said, kissing her hand lightly.




"Ellothere Mr. MacLeod, 'ow might I 'elp
ye?"


Percy could barely control himself from saying that he
had wanted to ravish her right there, but clenched his teeth
and smiled.




"Well Gemma, I can't help but remeber the last
time we uh...hehehe" He smiled, blushing.


"Oh, I remember!"


She said, blushing also.




"Maybe we can go upstairs?"


He asked, feeling his cock stiffen a little as he suggested
it.




"Anything you say luv."


She said with a smile, a slid passed him, putting her ass
against his crotch as she went upstairs. He smiled and followed
her up as her rear swung back and forth as sheclimbed the
stairs.




Gemma smiled. She could feel Percy's cock growing
with every step as she moved her ass against him. He was so
tall that the steps brought her ass into just the right position
when she took the step above his.




She'd always liked him. More than she'd ever tell
him, o'course. He was always such a gentleman, even
when they were rolling about on the bed.




Considerate, that was it. And he was a handsome man, a right
looker. She liked that he preferred to wear his kilt. His
legs were strong and lean, he'd proved that a time or
two.




As they reached her room, Gemma turned around and leaned
against the door. She knew she looked fetching in the pink
lace trimmed corselet that pressed her breasts up as though
they were on a shelf, being offered for the taking. Her knickers
had lace on them too. She liked lacy things. And from Percy's
eyes, she could tell that he liked 'em to.




She reached up and grasped the lapels of Percy's coat
and pulled him off balance against her. He looked a bit startled
for a moment, then he settled himself against her, pressing
his hardness into her yielding belly.




"Now, m'lord, d'ye think we might retire
to me room, or per'aps ye'd prefer to visit the
baths."


She knew how much he liked cleanliness. And it was a treat
to be able to play in the warm water.




"Aye, lass, I think that be a grand idea."


His hands were warm on her waist as he pulled her tighter
to him. Her breasts tingled where they were mashed against
his broad chest. He plunged his mouth down over hers and
she opened her lips to suck in his fiery tongue. He tasted
of whiskey and cigars.




She groaned and wriggled against him. If he kept at this,
she'd be wanting to tumble them into the bed rather
than the tub. The heat and tugging in her pussy was making
her impatient and greedy. She tangled her hands in his hair
and tried to reach deeper into his mouth with her tongue.




Percy pulled back and grinned down at her.




"You seem a bit in a hurry, sweet lass, " he said
softly.


He grasped one ample hip and squeezed hard, thrusting his
cock against her mound.




"I want the same. And soon. But your baths, Gemma,
are more pleasure even than this."


She needn't be told twice. Slipping out of his arms,
she led him to the bathing room.




A huge wooden tub stood in the centre of the room, already
filled with water. She dipped her hand in it. Not quite hot
enough. She opened the spigot that led from the large boiler
on the stove in the corner and watched as the scalding water
poured into the tub. When the temperature of the water in
tub satisfied her, she turned off the flow and refilled
the kettle. The room was very warm.




Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Percy watching her as
she moved about the room. He sat in a chair, leaned back,
his eyes half closed as he smoked a cigar. His gaze was like
a hot touch on her body. When she bent over to pull a couple
of heated towels from the warming cabinet near the stove,
she heard him get up and walk over to her.




When she turned to find him behind her, he took the large
fluffy towels from her hands and placed them over the back
of a chair. His eyes were glowing as he let his gaze rove over
her heavy curves.




"I dinna like me woman to be a bag o' bones. I like
a bit of meat to hold, " he murmured.


"And you more than please me with your curves."


He dropped a breathy kiss on the mound of one breast, and
then turned his attention to the other. A soft moan escaped
Gemma as his tongue snaked out to lap at the salty trail between
the pearly mounds.




Her head thrown back and her eyes closed in ecstasy at the
nibbles and licks that he bestowed on her sensitive flesh,
she barely heard him when he whispered, "How about
that bath, me bonny?"


He'd been holding her waist while he graced her flesh
with his attentions, and it was all she could do to stay on
her feet when he released her. Her knees felt like water.




"Aye, you cunning Scot, but first we must see what
lies beneath that kilt."


She giggled as the front of that self-same kilt moved over
the shaft that thrust up beneath it.




Gemma dropped a little kiss on Percy's smiling lips
and slipped his jacket from his shoulders. She divested
him of the shirt as quickly as her fingers could move. She
loved to run her hands over the solid beneath the fine muslin.
Too many of the men who frequented Miss Lily's were
stringy specimens. But this man was solid and muscular.
As far as Gemma was concerned, a true man.




Percy's hands fumbled at the laces and hooks of Gemma's
corselet. He had been plying his tongue over the smooth
globes of her breasts, but he wished to feel the softness
of her belly and hips as well. To some men, he supposed, she
would appear fat. But he liked the mounds of soft flesh that
accepted his maleness like a feather mattress.




It took several minutes of slow exploration and unfastening
of buttones and laces before they both stood naked. Percy's
cock stood out proud and hard, his balls tight and close
underneath it. Gemma giggled, and slipped a teasing finger
along the underside up to the tip. He gave out a mock groan
of frustrated passion and slapped her lightly on her ample
ass as he chided, "Get on with it, woman, before you
find out how surly a frustrated Scotsman can be!"


He lifted Gemma and set her on the stool that was immersed
in the waist- high tub. She squealed at the heat of the water
as she tried to gently lower her backside into it. Standing
straight again, still perched on the stool, she bent to
reach for a bucket of cool water. Her lovely ass was suddenly
presented to Percy and he grinned mischeviously as he leaned
toward her, pulled her hips toward him and pressed a kiss
on each full cheek. Another squeal, this one of delight,
graced his ears as he slid one hand up her inner thigh and
slipped it along the hot, moist crest of her cleft. The squeal
turned to a sultry moan as she wriggled her hips to try and
draw his fingers deeper.




In seconds he was in the water with her, sitting upon the
stool with Gemma seated on his knees.




"Now wash me, woman!"


He said with mock sternness and handed her the cloth and
the soap. Meekly she bathed his shoulders and chest, sliding
the bar of soap and then the cloth luxuriously slow over
his skin. As she rinsed him she planted little kisses and
nibbles over his arms and chest. With a teasing glance up
at him, she raised his hand to her lips and drew the index
finger into her soft hot mouth and suckled at it as a child
would at his mother's tit. She drew its length deep,
bathing it with her tongue. She could see his breathing
quicken and his eyes grew dark as he bacame more aroused.




With a growl, he lifted her until she straddled his thighs,
face to face with him. He buried his face in the long fall
of auburn curls at her throat, using his teeth to raise the
loose skin a bit and then letting it go. His big hands grasped
the soft flesh of her ass and he yanked her tight against
him, his hard cock between their bellies.




A kittenish mew escaped her as she rocked her hips, rubbing
her flaming pussy against his hardness. Her face was flushed
from the heat of the water and the heat in her groin. He felt
huge and rock hard as she rubbed herself on him and she almost
hurt deep inside from wanting him inside her.




She had not long to wait. With a quick move of his hands, he
raised her up and settled her over his length until there
was not of inch of him that was not buried in her fevered succulent
flesh. His nibbles moved down over her shoulders and her
breasts. As she began to move against him again, sliding
on and off of his bursting cock, he fastened his mouth to
her nipple and alternately tugged and licked it.




Gemma was in a frenzy of passion. Her moans became cries
as he assisted her motion, holding her waist and raising
and lowering her over him. Her heels tugged at his hips where
her legs encircled him, desperate to take him in even as
she reached the apex of the stroke.




Percy was gasping. Her sheath hugged him so tightly, yet
the snugness was fluid hot and never resisted his thrusts.
She felt like flame and ice around his cock, her flesh like
sweet heather to his mouth and nose as he trailed his tongue
over her breasts and nipples to heighten her clenching
passion. The more he suckled, the tighter she bacame, the
hotter the fire.




And there was fire in his loins, too. Fire that was burning
for release, but still he held back. He would bring her to
her heights and feel her explode before he allowed his own
release.




And even as he spread his mind afar to take the urgency from
his own thrusts, he felt her stiffen and her molten pussy
clutch at him again and again and again. Like exquisite
torture, she spasm'd around his cock, the ripples
sucking at him, and he could wait no longer. With a deep,
gutteral roar of triumph his voice joined hers and the lava
in his balls spurted deep into
her as he jerked her hard against him, pounding his groin
against hers to bury his seed in her, deep and deeper.




Gemma flailed against Percy, her own hands pulling at his
arms as he rammed his cock deep inside her spasming walls.
In the instant of his release he seemed to expand to huge
proportions inside her and still she wanted more as she
thrust her pelvis hard into him. The waves of her pleasure
seemed to roll through her like the pounding of an Atlantic
storm until she fell, exhausted, against the Scotsman's
broad chest. His heart beat loud against her ear.




Percy held the soft, warm woman close to him and felt a tenderness
in his soul that made him tighten the grip he had on her, even
as the flush of passion faded from his skin. She was so much
woman. He always looked for her when he came to Miss Lily's
because she had the innocense of a child and the fire of a
courtisan. He was not a man for marriage. That much he knew.
But if he ever thought of it ...




Gemma snuggled into Percy's chest and smiled. He was
a love, was this one. She was a whore and she kept her heart
and her work separate, but this man always cared as much
for her pleasure as for his own. That was rare enough, but
he seemed to like to hold her too, and that was something
none else did. Even now, when other men would be wanting
to finish up and get on with other things (or be trying to
sneak in two times for the price of one) this man was cuddling
her like a child. She could get to like this one too much,
if she wasn't careful ...




"My wee lass, " she heard him whisper against
her hair.


The tone of it made her smile.




The afternoon found Frewling settled in at the boarding
house and on the steps of Miss Lilly's. Considering
MacTavish, he'd probably been frequenting the place
if he was still here in Rattlesnake Gorge. Frewling doffed
his hat as he entered, and scanned the salon carefully.
Nice furnishings, obviously brought from back East, none
of this local axe-hewn stuff from the local hackers. Soft
carpet, clean, well-kept. And the burly fellow lounging
at the bar had to be the bouncer.




Frewling approached the man.




"Good afternoon."


"Afternoon, " the man said around his toothpick.


"If ye're lookin' for one'a th'ladies,
ring that there bell over there."


"I'd like a word with you first, if you've
got the time, " Frewling replied.


The bouncer scowled. This looked like a complication in
what had been a quiet day thus far.




"Well, siddown. And who d'I have th'pleasure
of adressin'?"


Frewling took a seat at the bar.




"Whiskey, please, " he told the barkeep.


He reached into his jacket and flipped out his railway badge.




"John Frewling, special agent for the Carnegie Lines.
I'm here looking for a man who robbed one of our trains.
Made off with five thousand dollars in gold from our payroll,
an unknown amount of cash from the mail car, and killed two
mail clerks and our engineer."


He sipped his whiskey, controlling his instinctive sneer
at the low quality. Obviously the public room here got the
cheap stuff.




The bouncer's eyebrows drew together.




"If'n he robbed th'mail car, how come the
Federal Marshal ain't here 'stead a'you?"


Frewling smiled a tight little smile.




"Because I know the man, sir. I've looked into
his past and know his habits. The Federal Marshal's
office tends to post a reward and hope for an informant.
As well, they automatically assume that all train robbers
go to either Nevada or Mexico."


He gave the "x" the proper throat-clearing
pronunciation.


"They're searching in the wrong Territories."


"Hmph. What makes you think he's run here?"


The bouncer folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.




In answer, Frewling took out a slip of paper, and carefully
unfolded it. He handed it over wordlessly.




The bouncer scowled. Damn if this wasn't the spittin'
image of Roger Kyle, that new man out t'the ranch was
workin' with McCall and his horsebreakers. Reward,
huh?
Five hundred gold would do him well. Best to set this lawman
on the slow trail, the better to collect that money hisself.




He handed the wanted poster back.




"Yeah, I seen him."


Frewling raised an eyebrow in interest as he folded the
paper and tucked it back away.




The bouncer continued.




"He's been in here a couple'a dozxen times.
Usually goes to see Miss Tina. She's right busy right
now, though, with that oil surveyor fella. Miss Georgia's
not doin' nothin' right now, though, and I b'leive
that feller's been to se her a time or two."


Frewling nodded.




"And where would I find Miss Georgia?"


"Third room on the right at th'top a'th'stairs."


Then, as Frewling made to rise, "But it'll cost
you, same as if you went to see her for business reasons.
Our girls' time ain't free, no matter what y'do
with'em, talk or not."


"That's not a problem, " Frewling said
as he stood.


"Would you prefer cash or a railroad voucher?"


The bouncer snickered at the idea of one of the girls taking
a check.




"That's b'tween you and Miss Georgia, although
if I was you an'wanted t'keep m'nuts, I wouldn't
go offerin' her no paper."


Frewling nodded, allowing himself a tiny smile at the jest.




"I'll take that under advisement, " he
said, and went up the stairs.


Florabelle swept the upper hallway again, she never could
manage to get all o the sand out, it seemed to drift in overnight,
of course ... that was their busiest time of day. Anyway,
she needed to get this done before she began tidying the
rooms. And then there was the playroom, she never could
quite figure out just what it was that these menfolk got
out of that, when they could have any of the pleasures of
a dozen women.




Sarah's carriage bumped along the rutted road. She
began wondering to hersel if maybe she shouldn't have
left school to come out and see Laura. The gentle rocking
of the carriage began to lull her to sleep. Her last conscious
thought was of the day she had last seen Laura, the day Laura
had left her at the school.




Sarah 's carriage hit a rather large bump as it rattled
into town.




She had asked the driver to take her to the address Laura
had given her if she ever needed help. They pulled up to Miss
Lilly's. Sarah stepped out of the carriage a little
confused about where she was. She had never asked what her
sister did, and didn't really know what this place
was.




Never one to shirk at something unknown, Sarah straightened
her shoulders and went up the steps to the door. She knocked
on the door as she straightened her clothes.




Florabelle heard the knock on the door, thinking that it
was early in the day for any callers she went to the door.
Opening it, she looked at the young lady outside and said,
"May I help you miss?"


"Yes, I am looking for my sister Laura. My name is Sarah.
Is she at home?"


"Well now, did you say Laura?
And you is her sister Sarah?
Well now. Won't you come in?
Let me get you in outta the heat. Laura?
Well now, it sure has been a long time since anyone has called
her that. Come in Come in.




Gemma made a strong effort to restrain the sway of her hips.
It wouldn't do to sashay into the cafe at Jake's
as if she was strutting through the parlour at Miss Lily's.
It was Sunday afternoon, after all. And she'd been
requested to join Mrs. Meghan Campbell for tes.




It had been many years since she'd been for tea with
anyone. At least the fancy kind of tea that Mrs. Campbell
meant. Tea at home had been the evening meal, which her father
wolfed down like a starving man before falling asleep in
his chair. She could almost hear the snores ricocheting
off the walls.




Well, she might not be a lady, but she could mind her manners,
all right.




Especially at tea with the richest woman in town.




Gemma stopped outside the door of Jake's All Night
Place. The sound of a poorly tuned piano came through the
door. But this time, she wasn't going into the saloon.
She straightened her bonnet and smoothed the wisps of hair
around her face back into place. Running her hands down
the front of her shantung skirt, she smiled. This dress
had come to her by way of a wealthy silk merchant who had come
to Miss Lily's looking for a little distraction.




She'd provided what he needed for three days, and he
had left her with this cloth and a weary smile as reward.
She had hired the snotty town seamstress to make her up this
afternoon gown, in the height of fashion. It, and the lovely
hat, had cost her nearly a month's wages, but it had
been worth it.




She liked knowing she had a dress that was suitable for any
occasion. When she went out like this, with her deep red-brown
hair tucked up under the bonnet, and no paint on her face,
there weren't many in town who could recognise her.
The men tipped their hats and wondered who the pretty new
gal in town was and where she stayed, and the lady's
nodded to her and smiled. It was almost like being respectable.
Which is how she had come to meet Mrs. Campbell.




Gemma strode past the door of Jake's and around the
corner to the entrance of the cafe. She stood in the doorway
for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior.
Tables, covered with neat white cloths, were occupied
by some of the town's more respectable citizens. Jake
had had more foresight than she gave him credit for when
he opened this place. Now that the town had grown up, there
were more and more families moving in. And not just farmers.




Bankers and lawyers (there was Mr. Latton now) and business
men. It was still a small place, by Eastern standards, but
fast growing.




As she glided into the cafe, she caught sight of Mrs. Campbell
seated at a table in the far corner. With a smile and a subtle
wave of her gloved hand, Gemma made her way there.




"Mrs. Campbell." she struggled to subdue her
natural Cockney lilt.


"Good afternoon to you."


Mrs. Campbell didn't speak, but she nodded and indicated
with a wave of her hand that Gemma should sit. The waitress
came to the table and Mrs. Campbell quietly ordered tea
and sandwiches. WHen the waitress had gone, she daintily
cleared her throat and said, "Miss Darcy, I am glad
you consented to meet with me."


She seemed very nervous as she toyed with the fork at her
place.




"Think Nuthin' of it, Mizz Campbell. You been
so very kind ter me, what with teachin' me ter read,
an all."


Gemma leaned forward.




"An' do call me Gemma. Me mum was ever so proud
o' that name."


"Uh ..."


Mrs. Campbell paused as the waitress laid the tea before
them. Gemma admired the fine bone china pot with it's
lovely picture of a tower along the sea coast in delft blue.
Kind of made her homesick, seeing the little bit of England
depicted on it. The lady seemed unaware and Gemma lifted
the pot.




"Mind if I am mother this time, madam?"


What was the matter with the lady, Gemma thought. She nodded,
her eyes cast down at the table. Gemma poured.




Putting a heaping spoon of sugar into the cup and a splash
of milk she stirred it and drank noisily. Twas good tea,
and she intended to get full enjoyment of it. But the woman
across from her continued to sit quietly, her hands in her
lap.




"Wouldn't you be enjoyin' your tea, ma'am?"


Gemma was puzzled.




Suddenly, Mrs. Campbell lifted her eyes to Gemma and leaned
toward her, her eyes blazing with urgency.




"Miss Darcy, you must help me!"


In the next second, a bright blush stained her cheeks.




"This was the only way I could meet with you and not
be indescreet. But I can wait no longer!"


The woman reached out and grabbed Gemma's gloved hand
in her own, and stared beseechingly into her face.




"My husband, Miss Darcy, will leave me and my two children
if he ... Her voice broke and she glanced nervously at the
nearby tables. None was paying them any attention. Her
voice strengthened a bit as she said, "He will leave
if I do not accede to his wishes. This I cannot do, Miss Darcy.
So I have come here to procure your services. I will pay you
handsomely, Miss Darcy ... Gemma ... if you will come and
ply your trade on the man who means my life to me. Do it well
and you will be handsomely rewarded!"


Gemma was stunned.




"Why don't he come to Miss Lily's, Mizz Campbell?
Any of the girls there could take care of him."


She was truly puzzled. Most of the men in the town found their
way to Miss Lily's at one time or another.




"He will not, Miss Darcy. He has a position to uphold
in the community. I ... asked him."


Meghan Campbell blushed and dropped her gaze from Gemma's
curious stare.




"`Ow will you do this, Madam? Won't yer husband
find it strange that you bring another woman into the `ouse?"


"He will not if he thinks you are ... someone other
than you are."


Again the woman's eyes pleaded with her.




"I have a plan. You will come to the house as a poor cousin
of mine, newly arrived in this country. I can tell him that
you came to me after ... an unfortunate liason. If he believes
that you have been involved with a man before, he may not
feel that he must resist your charms."


The lady grimaced.




"He has pressed several perversions upon me when
we were ... It astounds me that he finds the thought of a lady
of the night distasteful. I could not yield to his wishes."


Her voice became urgent.




"He must not know that you are an employee of Miss Lily's!"


"But, ma'am, I can't stay with you for always.
I am contracted to Miss Lily! And I make good money when it
gets busy."


"I am hoping, Miss Darcy, that you can teach me what
I need to know to please my husband. I find the whole business
distasteful" -Gemma found this astonishing- "but
I will do whatever I must to keep him with me."


The woman shuddered.




"You find it distasteful to lie with a man? But it can
be most pleasureable!"


Gemma could not hide her surprise. All the women that she
knew found sex as much fun as she. Even her mother, poor dear,
had wakened Gemma many a night with her moans from the next
room. She had had ten children before her death as a result.




"Per'aps it's because your husband is ever
in a hurry. Men give little pleasure if they hump like a rabbit."


She ducked her head in apology.




"Don't mean ter offend your sensibilities,
madam."


Mrs. Campbell sat stiffly in her chair and stared at Gemma.
Gemma smiled ruefully at the woman.




"I have ter go ask Miss Lily if it'd be all right
for me ta do this. An' she'll be settin' the
price."


"I have money, never fear. But it must be soon. My husband
grows more restless with each day and I fear he may either
force himself upon me, or leave me. I do not know which I fear
most."


Gemma's mind was going round and round. How was she
to teach another woman the secret of pleasuring a man, when
the woman had no idea how to find pleasure herself?
The two things seemed somehow dependent on each other.
The idea of living in Mrs. Campbell's big house, even
for a few days, was very tempting. But how was she supposed
to get the man into her bed, when he wouldn't even go
to the place in town where nearly every man around relieved
his ache?
She sorta liked the challenge of it. But Miss Lily might
find it too much of a temptation for her to be around all that
wealth. After all, Miss Lily had paid for her to come here
from New York, where she had lived when she first arrived
from England. She had barely managed to feed herself, living
on the streets there. She sure as hell didn't want to
go back to that kind o' life!
Not when Miss Lily took such good care of her.




"I will send word when you are to arrive. Simply have
Miss Lily let me know your fee for, say, two weeks. I will
arrange the rest."


Meanwhile, back at Miss Lilly's, Rhett, the heretofore
unnoticed piano player was running his fingers up and down
the keyboard. But when she was close enough he caught Miss
Lilly's eye, and she sauntered over and stared down
at him.




"What is it, Rhett?"


He usually just played all evening; not bothering anyone,
but he noticed things.




"Look over there, " he jerked his head in the
direction of a sofa in the most remote corner of the room.


Some pretty surprising things had happened on




the green upholstery, but usually with at least two participants.
Tonight a lone figure sat huddled in the corner. Lilly looked
and then turned back to Rhett.




"So? Maybe he's waiting for Irish. She's
been busy all night."


"Look again. 'Mite young, wouldn't you
say."


"I see what you mean."


The boy sitting there didn't look more than about fifteen
or younger. Smooth cheeks seemed to indicate younger,
though it was hard to tell in the over-sized trousers, shirt,
jacket and cap he wore.




"Well, we get them young."


"Nice hands, too." Rhett said.


"Oh. Now I see. Know when he got here?"


"Came in with a farmer about an hour ago. He sat the
kid down on the sofa and went upstairs with Angie."


"I'll go talk to him. Hold on."


Miss Lily floated over to the love-seat and sat down next
to the boy, who huddled even farther into it. He blushed
bright pink as Lily put her hand on his thigh.




"Are you lookin' for someone in particular?"


Lily asked.




"I'm-I'm waitin' for my uncle to fin-come
downstairs."


"I see."


The boy's voice didn't seem to have changed yet
either.




"Well, " Lily went on, "since your uncle's
such a good customer we might arrange something for you,
if you'd like."


The boy was staring at his long, white hands and squirming
uncomfortably.




"N-no, ma'am. Thank you." he mumbled.


Lily smiled and stood up.




"Well, you just let us know if there's anything
we can do for you."


She went back to Rhett who was smiling to himself as he played.




"I think you're right, " she said.


"What do you want to do?"


"Well, I'm about ready for a break, " he
said.


"I thought I'd get something in the kitchen."


They smiled at each other. Rhett's room was off the
kitchen.




"Kid might be hungry, too."


"Thought so. Think his uncle will mind?"


"If he's stupid enough to leave the kid here...
Go ahead. I won't tell."


The piano player broke off in mid-chord and stood up. Lily
watched him go over to the love-seat. It took even the handsome
black-haired man a couple of minutes to coax the boy out
of his corner, but eventually he accompanied Rhett back
into the kitchen. Lily was beginning to think she craved
something from the kitchen, too.




Gemma smiled as she lifted her spoon to her mouth, and watched
Evan Campbell through her lashes. In the week since she'd
been at the Campbell's, he had been watching her - and
she had pretended not to notice. It was interesting to play
the demure, though slightly-tarnished, cousin Delia
from Devonshire. Theonly struggle had been to restrain
her naturally exuberant spirit and cockney speech. It
was almost like being on stage, as she had been for a time
in London (though the plays she had performed had been baudy
rousts for the entertainment of the common people, not
the kind of thing that required taste or dramatic skill.)




She sipped her soup and cast another glance in Evan's
direction. Hmmm.




There he was again, sneaking a look at her that took in more
than just her face. He surely must be contemplating what
she would be like, should he find the courage to try her on.
He seemed little concerned that his wife might see the interest
he was taking in Delia. Actually, he had seemed little concerned
for his wife at all, and Gemma wondered what the woman saw
in this man.




Oh, he was handsome enough. His dark hair and blue-grey
eyes were an interesting contrast and his figure was tall
and well-proportioned, but there was a certain coldness
to him that made Gemma a bit wary of what she might encounter
should she go ahead with the plan.




Ah well. She had made her bargain. The victim was primed.
Tonight she would play the part, and Mrs. Campbell would
observe. After that, it was only a matter of time before
she could go back to Miss Lily's.




As she took another spoonful of the excellent soup, Gemma
was surprised to find that the prospect of resuming her
old life wasn't as pleasant as it once was.








This word was chosen for it’s unusually high frequency
in erotic texts. It is marked to draw attention to when,
why and where it is used. To some, it may stimulate, to others
it’s a bore. What does your brain say?

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