Fingers grip the blanket tighter around her naked body, keeping her guard up with the unknown, strange woman in the room. ‘I’m sure he paid a pret...y penny on you.’ She says, flipping through the rack of clothing. Occasionally she would take a dress off the rack and place it in a nearby chair before pulling shoes out from the bottom of the cart. ‘I keep telling him he should invest that money instead of blowing it on little tarts like you.’ ‘You know why I’m here?’ She asks a little. The further tilt of your head pushing back against me, exposing more of your neck to my assaulting lips, a soft mewl and purr as I savour. Your body bushes against mine as my warm hands ignite the desires that lurk within, your mind melting and body following in kind. My hands travel south back over the rise of your hips, fingertips finding the hem of your dress and teasing the material up your thighs. "Baby..." huskily spills from your lips accompanied with a gentle writhe. Your playful. At any rate, we all sat down to dinner after Abe gave thanks. That was another southern thing because, in the south, even those who didn't go to church and didn't practice religion were tolerant of those who did. It was considered right and proper. I had become comfortable even though my parents had not brought me up in a church atmosphere. Jane, of course, was right at home with it.As people finished eating and were just chatting, I stood for attention. Jane had whispered to me that it was. Ginger followed him inside. The Saloon was dark, dirty, and reeked of bile. There were small tables around the place, and men around them drinking. There were also women walking around, the whores of the house. They were constantly leading horny men up and down the stairs to their rooms. The sounds of moaning men could be heard withe laughs of the drunk. Taking a seat at the bar, Pete and Ginger each ordered themselves a drink. The bartender was a slim man, short brown hair, hazel eyes. A long.
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