One Whore's Town Ch. 01

Ghent swiveled his hips, stirring the head of his cock inside her. Betty reached down and began stroking her clit. She could feel the rapid throbbing of his cock, and knew how excited he was, but he held his desire in check, allowing her to relax enough to admit him.

He slipped deeper with a groan, and she drew in a gasp through clenched teeth. When she looked over her breasts, she could see that a little over half of his big cock was buried inside her, stretching her to her limits. It was her turn to groan when he slowly withdrew. She could feel every vein and contour of the hard organ sliding along her walls.

"You know what I want, honey," she told him when he paused with just the head inside her.

"Uh-huh."

It was easier the second time the massive organ plunged into her depths — just short of banging into the entrance of her womb. After bedding her so many times, he knew exactly how deep he could go, and he had the control to do it. For such a big man, he was incredibly gentle. Betty moaned and whimpered as he slowly plumbed her depths. She continued to tickle her clit with the tip of her finger, but that wasn't the orgasm she was after.

Ghent maintained a slow, methodical pace. His eyes — full of love and arousal — roamed over her body. She had to wonder if his face ached from maintaining the wide grin adorning it.

She felt the first tickle after a few minutes, and it caused her pussy to squeeze around him. Ghent growled and — somehow — his grin grew even wider. He knew what the goose bumps breaking out on her sweat-dampened skin portended.

Betty's heart began to race when that tickle swelled behind her mound. Few men could make her come at all. Ghent had introduced her to something altogether different when she acquiesced to let him try to get her there — expecting to fake it for his benefit. The deep, powerful orgasms he gave her were beyond compare. The first time it happened, she'd nearly fainted and ended up giggling uncontrollably for the longest time afterward, once she caught her breath. She had thought it a fluke until he duplicated the feat the next evening — and the next.

She could feel it building. Ghent could see it in her face, feel it in the involuntary twitches of her body, and hear it in the rising pitch of her voice. Every slow thrust added to the coiled pressure waiting for release. After more than a half hour in her hot, wet, clinging pussy, the strain was evident on the big man's face, but she was nearly there.

Unlike a normal orgasm, it wasn't preceded by an acute, anxious need to come. She was in a state of wonderful, aching bliss for thrust after thrust, until finally, it hit her like a thunderclap. Betty lurched beneath her lover, her back arching and her body trembling. Instead of the electric jolts that stimulating her button caused, it was a rumbling earthquake that was all over, all the time.

On and on it went. Gasping cries and groans escaped her, and she grew lightheaded from the relentless onslaught of her climax. She was barely aware of anything except her beautiful agony until she heard Ghent's low, rumbling growl. She gave full voice to her pleasure in a scream when she felt his hot cum blasting against the entrance of her womb.

Once again she slipped into the sweet abyss of her orgasm, until he pulled free, leaving her empty. A stream of their mingled cum immediately dribbled out of her gaped canal. Betty slowly drifted down from her heights while Ghent collapsed next to her with a groan — his bulk rocking the wagon.

Betty edged closer to him on weakened arms — holding the linen pad between her legs to avoid soiling the mattress — until she could rest her head on his shoulder. While they lay panting and perspiring in the dim light, Betty could hear Jan and Lana quietly chatting while they cleaned up at the water barrel on the side of the wagon.

Neither she nor Ghent flinched when the flap of the canvas whipped open, and cool night air rushed into the interior heated by their romp.

"Damn," Jan remarked, her eyes fixed on Ghent's huge, pussy-slick cock lying across his thigh. "It's as big as my arm."

Ghent was too spent to do more than grunt, but Betty chuckled.

Lana asked, "Going to let anyone else have a go at that?"

"Not a chance," Betty answered.

"Stingy," Lana said with faux cattiness.

Betty stroked her hands over his abdomen and said, "You girls have to work. Can't have him splitting you in half."

"I think it actually might," Jan said, still staring at his member.

That drew a weak chuckle from Ghent.

"Thought one of them was going to pass," Lana said. She then shook a pouch that clinked with the sound of coins. "Jan jiggled the girls in his face, and he hopped right on."

"Good going, girls. Don't forget the boys standing guard. They'll want a turn. Told them you'd get up and give them a ride when the watch changes. Go ahead and take your half now before you put the rest in the strongbox."

"Really? Thought we didn't get half until we got to town," Jan said.

"I'm in a good mood, and you have to get up in the middle of the night for a hump."

"Thanks, Miss Betty," the two girls said one after the other.

"Speaking of getting to town..." Lana said, and then gave Jan a tap on the arm.

Jan picked up the cue and said, "The drivers said there's one girl whoring in Hard Creek. Said what she was asking was too rich for their blood."

"Actually, they said she must think her pussy is made of gold," Lana elaborated with laughter in her voice. "Young, red-brown hair, pretty, and big boobs."

Betty shrugged. "If she's the only girl milking their pricks, she can get away with milking their purse too. Won't know how that's going to go until we get there."

Both whores let out little sounds of agreement as they deposited half of the coin they had earned in the strongbox.

Betty sighed, sat up, and then leaned down to give Ghent a kiss. "Okay, big boy. Time to go get me a rag to clean up with, and make room for the girls to get some sleep."

He stuck his lip out into an outrageous pout and whimpered like a kicked puppy, prompting all three women to laugh.

She gave him a smack on the butt. "Go on, you goof. You need your rest too."

"Okay, Betty."

There was something so satisfying about watching a physically imposing man crawl unsteadily to his clothes. Then, her heart skipped a beat when he gave her a sweet smile before slipping out of the wagon.

She wasn't sure how to react when she felt a pang of sadness because she wouldn't wake up to him at her side in the morning.

****

The three prostitutes waved and smiled when the wagoners split off just outside the small town of Hard Creek. While the men were continuing on east — trailing a drifting cloud of dust — they ran this route frequently. If things worked out, they could very well be the first regular customers of a brand new brothel after two nights of Jan and Lana taking extra special care of them.

A few buildings stood off the side of the road leading from the main thoroughfare into town. The nearest was easily the most impressive. It was two stories tall, featured large glass windows, and appeared to be made primarily of wood and stone. The windows and wood spoke of great wealth by their mere presence, as both were surely imported from the north. The stone was cut and mortared, which was always a symbol of extravagance.

As the wagon approached, they saw the front door open. A man stepped out, tucking his shirt into his pants as he walked. He moved toward a horse, mounted, and trotted off into town before the wagon reached the house. When it did, a flutter of movement on the second story caught Betty's eye. She looked up and saw a nude woman looking down on them.

Almost instantly, the woman's eyes turned as hard as agates, her upper lip curled, and she dropped the curtain — hiding her from view.

"Think that's Miss Golden Pussy?" Lana asked, having noticed the woman.

"Probably," Betty agreed. The woman fit the description offered by the wagoners. The opulence of the house suggested that perhaps the men had underplayed how much she was charging. It was easily as big as Alice's Kip.

Betty began to seriously reconsider her choice of location.

They passed a small farmstead and another well-appointed house in the final approach to town. Just off the road, a boy playing in the dirt caught Betty's eye. She leaned forward and whispered, "Stop next to that boy there."

"He's watching," Ghent said, knowingly.

That was what Betty thought as well. The boy seemed far more intent on the people passing in town and the approaching wagon than his oddly shaped dirt mounds. She also knew he was older than he was trying to appear.

The boy looked up when Ghent brought the wagon to a halt.

"Excuse me," Betty said. "Is there an inn or hostel in town?"

The boy nodded, offering a smile that looked as false as his play. "Big place up the other end. Can't miss it."

"Thank you so much," Betty said and then tapped Ghent on the shoulder. The question she'd asked was a legitimate one, but she was more interested in his lack of reaction to something else. The series of subtle hand gestures that Raven had taught her should have elicited a response even from a green thief's lookout. The boy had obviously seen them but had looked confused.

Certainly not part of an organized guild, and probably had little contact with other thieves, according to what Raven told her.

As soon as the wagon started moving with a groan of protesting wood and clomping of hooves, Ghent said, "Looks like she got herself a bully boy, and he's following us."

Betty turned as if to talk to Jan, but cast her gaze down the road as she did. The stocky, muscled man walking toward them fit the bill of a whore's bully boy.

"Head straight for the inn," Betty instructed. "Last thing we want to do is have you beat the tar out of a local — no matter how fun it would be to watch. He should think twice about starting something around other people."

"Yes'm, Betty."

Curious looks greeted them on their journey through town. As always, there were plenty of lustful glances from men, and angry stares from women as well. Unlike Windsholme, where every building had a facade giving the illusion of a larger, more prosperous town, Hard Creek didn't put on airs. The roads were hard-packed earth. The buildings were mostly made of sun-baked mud bricks, with a smattering of real bricks here and there. The bully boy had set a quick pace, and he wasn't very far behind when they pulled up next to the inn.

Betty said, "I saw a stable out back. Take the wagon around there, give the horse some oats, and behave yourself."

Ghent's brow furrowed and he turned to stare at the man tailing them. "What if he tries to grab you?"

"Then he'll take a nap," Betty answered. "I know you too well, honey. The moment he looks at one of us cross-eyed, you're going to want to thump him."

"Maybe he needs thumping."

Betty chuckled and rolled her eyes. "This isn't the Kip, honey. We're going to have to be on our best behavior until folks get used to us."

He did not look happy about it, but said, "Okay."

"Go on, then. Come on, girls."

A few people turned toward them — and several men stared — as the three women crossed the taproom and approached the innkeeper's desk. He stepped out of a room behind the counter and asked, "What can I do for you ladies?"

"Do you have three rooms available?" Betty asked.

"That I do. That I do," he said. "Even got three together."

"That's perfect," Betty answered.

"And how long will you be staying?"

"Just have to see about that, honey."

Betty heard the door open behind her and glanced over her shoulder. It was hardly a surprise to see the local whore's bruiser. She turned back to the innkeep and asked, "How much."

The man behind the counter looked past her, toward the front door, and then quoted a price of a copper crown per night, which was better than Betty had expected. She was reaching for her coin purse when he said, "Have to tell you that I can't have no... Uhm... I can't have no whoring in my place."

Betty heard Jan and Lana gasp, playing their parts perfectly. "What a rude thing to say," Betty said, putting her hands on her hips.

The innkeeper waved his hand between them and said, "I'm sorry to offend, but that sort of thing brings trouble, and I don't want no trouble. I don't want there to be no misunderstanding."

That certainly put a kink in Betty's plan. "We'll take the rooms, but I don't know how long we'll be staying after that," she said with just the right amount of acid in her voice.

"Again, my apologies," he responded.

Betty fished out the three crowns, and when she heard the door open again, she saw the bully boy leaving. That explained the innkeeper's sudden change of tone. They had him over a barrel somehow. She slapped the coins on the dark-stained counter, accepted the keys, and gave the girls theirs.

"Go on up and wait. I'm going to go fetch Ghent," Betty told them.

Both girls nodded and made their way toward the stairs while Betty exited. She saw the whore's tough walking back toward her place — apparently certain that his work was done. She let out a little growl and walked back to the stable.

"Uh oh," Ghent said when he saw the look on Betty's face.

"We'll talk about it up in the room." A little of her foul mood evaporated when she saw the stableman gawking at her with undisguised longing. Her low-cut dress was conservative by her standards, but the women she'd already noticed were dressed on the prudish side, and the young man couldn't take his eyes off her tits.

Ghent nodded. "Two bits for feed and a stall. Another bit to keep the wagon under the roof."

Again, it was less than Betty had anticipated. She winked at Ghent, and he chuckled, knowing what was next. The stableman looked as if he was going to faint when she started sauntering toward him, and he still couldn't tear his eyes away from her cleavage.

"We're real fond of our horse, honey," she said while offering a sweet and sultry smile. She then lifted a hand to her chest, further drawing attention to her breasts, and asked, "You'll take real good care of him, won't you?"

He nodded so vigorously that his long hair flopped down in front of his eyes. He brushed it aside and answered, "Yes, Ma'am. I surely will. I'll put down fresh straw and even get him an apple."

She reached up and caressed his cheek, which made him blush furiously. "Why thank you, honey. That's so sweet of you." She fished out the small copper coins for one day, placed them in his hand, and then closed his fingers around them.

"I'll go fetch that straw right now."

She nodded and returned to where Ghent was waiting with the wagon. The big man whispered, "Probably have to change his drawers as soon as we leave."

"Thought about kissing his cheek, but then we'd have to wait for him to wake up to pay him."

"Lonely boys. Good for us."

She pursed her lips and let out a grunt. "Maybe not. We'll talk up in the room. Stow the crossbows, get the strongbox, and the potion case. You can come back for the clothes later."

Betty leaned against the wagon and tried to figure out how she was going to turn things back her way again.

****

Betty wasn't happy as she talked to the girls later that evening. She'd decided to go ahead and give them both another quarter of what they'd earned on the trip in, and asked them to go about town shopping. Their real mission was to flirt with men and get the lay of the land. She did the same.

What she learned wasn't good, and only confirmed what she already knew. There was one whore named Josephine who charged outrageous prices — three times what the Kip charged in a much larger town. She also only humped when she felt like it.

Beyond that, virtually everyone clammed up and refused to talk. The only other detail any of them had been able to ferret out was that there had been a couple of older prostitutes in town when Josephine came around, but they left not long after, even though they'd lived there all their life.

Several men had also danced around the issue that they were scared to death of her bully boy, Damson, and of the law in town.

That avenue exhausted, she was just about to go down and fetch Ghent to see if he'd picked up anything. He'd been buying drinks and chumming up with people coming into the taproom to those ends. He saved her the trouble by knocking their coded knock on the door. Betty got up and let him in.

"Got something," he said. "This pock-faced fellow who lives a little ways down the road got real talkative once I poured a few drinks in him. At least, he did until a couple of other fellows started tossing things at him and calling him names. Took off for home after that."

"What did he say?" Betty asked.

"Said this Josephine showed up in town a couple of years back out of nowhere and moved into that big house. She started whoring right off and made out good. Picked up her bully boy when he came through town not long after. Wasn't long after that when the law started rousting the two women who had been whoring in town."

Betty sighed. It was only getting worse. "She's humping the law and using them to run off anybody else. She just moved into that house?"

Ghent nodded. "It was some rich fellow's summer place, but ain't nobody seen him in a dog's age before she took up there."

Lana guessed, "He said something, and she used it to roll him."

"Something bad if he gave up that big old house," Betty mused. "He'd still be coming around if she was just stringing him along."

Ghent said, "After a while, she started asking more and being picky about when she felt like humping. That's all that pock-faced fellow told me before he got fed up with the rousting and went home."

Betty dropped her head into her hands and groaned. When she sat up straight, she said, "I'll pay you for wasting your time, girls."

"So, we're going home?" Lana asked.

"I don't see any way around it. She's got some powerful people sucking her tits, and everyone else under their heel," Betty admitted.

"You want to go alone?" Ghent asked in a tone that left no doubt that he didn't approve.

Betty shook her head. "We'll head out to the main road early each morning and try to hook up with a wagoner or a merchant who has guards. You can't stand guard all night for two nights in a row, even if you sleep all day in the wagon. I'm the only other one who can sort of drive the wagon, and I doubt you'd be able to sleep through that."

"You do okay," Ghent argued. "Just need to get used to when to be soft with the horse, and when to give him a smack."

"Pretty sad that I could get a man to walk to hell and back by batting my eyelashes at him, and I can't get a damn horse to even walk in a straight line," Betty said.

The usually somewhat reserved Jan said, "Horse is smarter than a man with a hard prick."

That set them all to laughing.

"No sense dwelling on things," Betty said with a shrug. "We're not going to be here as long as we thought, so we may as well use some of that coin. Girls, let's go down to the taproom, get drunk, and send all the boys home weeping because they're not getting any of this pussy."

****

Betty awakened confused and groggy. She was hovering on the nebulous line between still drunk and hungover, not quite sure where she was. Faint morning light shone through the window, stabbing into her brain.

Her head was resting on Ghent's shoulder, and her hip was sitting in a cold, clammy, wet spot in the center of the bed. When she shifted position slightly, she could feel her thighs sticking together. It was hardly a surprise to see Ghent's cock lying limp across his thigh, covered in dried pussy juice.