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This is my story for the CAW7 - Calling All Writers Challenge #7
the challenge was to write a story about.

“Females For Hire”
I chose to go with a western, modeled after the two-reeler that were shown at Saturday Matinees . This is the fist chapter of serial.
Of course with the prerequisite cliffhanger at the end.

Hardwood Saloon

The cattle drive was finally over it had been a month of Sundays since I had been back in DeSoto city, my home Town.
The days were at their shortest and the nights were cold and long but no more sleeping on the ground in a bedroll tonight, oh tonight a bed a real bed indoors out of the cold.

After dropping my horse at the livery.

Plowing thought the dust I crossed the street and headed for the Hardwood Saloon.
Weighed down by my saddlebags, my heavy boots causes the boards on the sidewalk to clatter and bang as I proceeded on my way.
It had been quite a spell since we had any appreciable rain and the boards had all shrunk and become loose.

The town was almost deserted I wondered where was everyone?
Opening the storm door I entered the saloon everything was where it belonged, to the right was the bar, of hand polished mahogany running a good forty foot long with an L at the front end just beyond the bar there was a set of stairs leading up to the second floor and the “guest” rooms.
A mezzanine spanned over the stage at the back of the room.

There were maybe sixteen round tables scattered around the floor each with a half dozen chairs.
The big potbelly stove was warming the place nicely.
The floor was of red oak hence the saloon’s name.

“Well look what the cat dragged in”.
“It’s nice to see you to Aunt Katharine”.
“ Shush your mouth. I’ve told you before not to call me that here, I don’t want the customers to know that”.
Looking around “What there’s only one old man in here and he’s asleep.
“ OH that’s just Bill, you remember him he’s the piano player”.
“Ok, ok Miss Kitty. So where is everyone”?
“You have been out on the trail a long time haven’t you? It’s December 24, Christmas eve most are home with kinfolk”.

Katherine, oh I mean Miss Kitty went over an yelled up the stairs
“Ginny get your ass down here there’s someone here to see you”!
“Tell him to come back on Tuesday I’m on a fucking holiday” she bellowed from her room upstairs.
“No I think you’ll want to see him, better hurry before he gets mad and leaves”.
A long period of silence followed before she finally appeared on the balcony.

EEEEK “Ben your back”!
She bounded down the stairs and nearly bowled me over in one fell swoop;
wrapping her arms around me she gave me a bear hug that almost took my breath away.
Leaning back and gazing up trying to Look me in the eye “you’ve grown” she exclaimed
“No I haven’t I’m still eighteen hands tall”
“NO you big lummox, I can’t get my arms around you like I use to”.
“Well I guess I did put-on a few pounds
just sitting in the saddle for six months can do that don’t you know”
“Be careful or I might say the same thing about you to kid, all you do is……
Miss Kitty leaned over and put a finger to my lips “ Now Ben you know that there are ladies present”.
Ginny was only two years younger than myself and oh how I loved to give her a hard time!
“Come on let’s get you settled in your room out behind the kitchen” Miss Kitty said

Dropping my things in my old room I rejoined them in the kitchen sitting at the table I began telling my tale.

On this drive Cooky brought his wife Bertha
with him. He was a big Swede and his wife was even bigger. They manned one of the largest chuck wagons to sail the prairies. It was built by the smith company.
It had three axles with six wheels and was twenty feet long with a tin roof and a fold out bed. More like a gypsy caravan.

We had only been on the trail for about one week when they got into a squabble.
That evening he got really drunk and started to badmouth her. Finally he offered her to anyone who wanted to have their way with her!
I myself had no interest in her; let’s just say that if she were to wonder into the herd you would have a hard time picking her out. I told the rest of the boys that if they wanted to eat well on the drive they should steer clear of her.
The trail boss Jim Walker had also had a bit too much drink that night, after Cooky passed out he took him up on his offer. In a nearby grove of trees you could hear her squeals of protest for half the night. Quiet like a mouse we snuck up on them and watched the show

That next day Cooky was defiantly in a foul mood and we all kept clear of him lets not you wanted to catch a meat cleaver.

The following morning big Jim didn’t get up for breakfast, one of the boys went to check on him they found him dead. There was no sign of a struggle he just passed on in his sleep. He was in his fifty’s and maybe it was his time. At least he got in one last roll in the hay.
At the next town I sent a telegram to the owners informing them of Jim’s demises and word came back promoting me to trail boss putting a pretty penny in my pocket. Being nearly thirty I was the second oldest and most experienced hand.

Sitting at the table as I told my story I felt something brush past my leg at first I thought that it was just one of the cats that mill around the kitchen but then it started to crawl up my britches.
Just as I was about to jump up and shoot the critter Ginny saw the vexation in my eyes and said “sorry BEN”!
Having been out on the land for so long your first reaction when something crawls on you is to shoot first and ask questions later.

At dinner she started to play footsie again. Now I was more receptive to her advances. She had never done anything playful like that before and it caught my totality off guard.

After dinner we retired upstairs to Ginny’s room. She had the nicest room in the place with two windows; the walls were papered with a large floral print with matching curtains. The ceiling was painted white, a braided rug on the floor and an oversized brass bed.
On the dressers stood two oil lamps of cobalt glass set on either side of the wash basin in front of a large mahogany framed mirror.
That bed looked so inviting it was all poofed up with a dust ruffle and pillow shams.
The lamps cast a warm glow in the room but the saloon itself was growing cool, with no patrons that night the fire in stoves was left to die down.

Before we went up I stopped at the bar and procured a bottle of Cognac off the top shelf along with two fine long stemmed glasses.
Over between the widows were two upholstered chairs and a small table with a very ornate frosted oil lamp resting upon it.
I set the glasses on the table pulled the cork from the bottle and partially filled the snifters.
We sat in the chairs and caught up on the last six months as the bottle got lighter and lighter.
The icy fingers of a late December night were trying to poke their way into the saloon.
Ginny said she was getting cold; I wrapped a shawl around her and went off to tend to the stoves.

Upon my return I found the bed covers turned down and Ginny reposing on the bed wearing only some frilly Lingerie.

“I though that you were cold”?
“I won’t be if you come here and keep me warm in bed”.
I didn’t need any more encouragement
than that. I peeled off my shirt and dropped my pans were I stood.
She then cleared her throat and pointed at the chair. Blushing with embarrassment I picked up my things folded them and placed them on the chair.
“Well hurry up before I catch my death of a cold”.
Blowing out two of the lamps I hopped into bed and drew the covers over us.

Did you hear that”?
“No what”?
“Up on the roof, there it is again,
it’s kindaof a clicking sound.
I’ve got the strangest feeling that we are being watched”
“You're just imagining things it’s just the wind blowing that long branch on the roof” she said.

“There, over there it’s the windows that clicking”

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, Was a miniature person, and peeking he had been here.
So lively and quick he took off across the roof lickety-split

Closing up the window I headed back to bed
“that kid was lucky if I had, had my gun I would have really made him dance”
That clicking sound was back “get the hell out of here you little scallywag, picking up one of the tiny pillows I threw it at the source of the noise.
“Oh look it’s just one of the cats and he got a mouse in his mouth”. And it was still clicking

Picking up a second pillow, “I hope I didn’t damage that pillow there so delicate”. Inspecting it further I notated the little tag that read “Microsoft filling” “what the hell is Microsoft “? I asked Ginny
“I don’t have the foggiest idea all I know is it comes from the west coast”.

Pulling the covers tightly over us we held each other tightly a slight shiver overtook us as we shook off the cold.
Our lips meant as things started to heat up.
Rubbing her back and drawing close to me when suddenly I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Mercy woman your feet are like ice”!
“I just wanted to warm them up; your thighs are so hot I didn’t think you would notice”.
“God Ginny you want it to shrivel up and disappear you did that on purpose.
Finally settling down cradling her in my arms we started to kiss again soon our tongues meant mine gliding over hers, then hers over mine.
Rolling onto my back I placed her demure body atop mine.
Rubbing her shoulders with my hand she started to rhythmically gyrate her hips against my cock
Savoring every inch of her back and needing It so.
Tongues danced to an unsung melody as body temperature rose.

Breaking the kiss we roiled on our sides my hands went to her full round breast the velvet smoothness in stark contrast to my calloused fingers. Her hand stroking across my abs as she made small cooing sounds.
Roiling her nipples between my thumb and fingers caused her back to arch sending her hand to my manhood. Wrapping her dainty hand around it. Stroking gently it at first but soon thrashing me with great vigor.
I held her hand in mine stopping her, looking into her violet eyes “Let’s take it slowly we’ve got all night, it’s not like there is someone waiting to take my place”.

At first I thought that she was going to slap me but with a small shrugged of her shoulders.
“You're right, Sorry, old tricks diehard”.
After all the time I spent dreaming about this night I didn’t want it to be over in just five minutes.

She giggled, I laughed.
As if someone had turned the page back we started over resting quietly I ran my hands slowly over her noticing when she would flinch or sigh
Finding my way back to her breast I cupped one in my left hand. With my right I raised her head up to mine and we kissed. A warm and tender kiss to savor our time together again.

My left hand with a mind of it’s own playfully pinched her nipple
Her hand found its way to my balls she rolled them gingerly massaging one then the other diving under the covers she swallowed me down in one gulp
With her in this position it was easy for me to pleasure her
Crawling back up she throws her leg over me settling down on my stomach lightly sweeping her tits back and forth across my chest
Her tawny hair fell in ringlets upon my face tickling my nose she always wanted to be on top and in control.

Sliding her hands between us she grasps my cock in her hand guiding it home letting it part her oh so slightly
I tried to thrust up to meet her “ No, no, no how just the head, you said that you wanted to take it slowly” with an almost inaudible grown I relaxed relinquishing to her
It felt like she was kissing my little head her lips would flutter around the head as she gradually inserted it only to pop it right back out over and over she had my boiler stoked and with a full head of steam I though that my pop valve was going to blow.
Sensing the imminent explosion
Ginny withdrew and rested our lips locked with tongues exploring the caverns beyond as if it was a lazy summer afternoon.

In due time her hand snaked its way back down guiding me back in and to my relief she let me slide all the way in.
She wasn’t through playing her little games though. Once I was all the way in she clamped down on me like a vice did she ever have muscle control and control them she did sending delicate waves of pleasure up and down my spine.
Bring me to the brink once more.
Ginny was really enjoying her devilish game.
Then, Oh, then oh god she rode my like the stallion I wished I was.
I held back as long as I could eventually being over cumed by the most magnificent climax a man has ever experienced.

Both of us well spent we embraced in the bliss of the afterglow
Just before we drifted off to sleep with one last kiss as our lips parted and in unison we said “Merry Christmas”

The next morning when I got down to the kitchen the stove was cold
“Hello, Miss Kitty what do I do about breakfast”?
Poking her head around the corner
“We go up the street to the new place next to the marshal’s office; come on I’ll take you there now”.
The clock on the wall read 9.12 when we entered the small shop but even at this hour the establishment bristled with activity. Taking a seat at a table, the thing was barely big enough for two. An older rather plump woman came over to our table “hello Miss Kitty”.
“Good mooring Flo, this is Ben he just got back into town, been out on a cattle drive for the last six months”.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, hunn now what will you have”?
“Bacon & eggs with coffee”.

In a blink of an eye she was gone
“ Dunkin open this place last September and It’s has been thriving ever since. His secret is the coffee Chase & Sanborn he get’s its from Boston the first coffee company to package and ship coffee in tin cans
“What are those little cakes that they are eating over there”? I inquired
“ Oh that’s his other money maker, It’s deep fried dough in the shape of an O that’s way it cooks all the way through”.
“ Deep fried Dough, Nuts those things must sit like lead in your stomach all day”!
“No they're delicious. You're going to have to try one and see for yourself”.
And with that Flo was back with my food.
“Boy your fast” I said as she set the plate in front of me
“Well I hope you're nice and slow” giving me a wink. She was back in an instant with two mugs of coffee and a plate of those fried dough thingies giving me a quick goose as she departed.

Grabbing the utensils and preparing to dig in, but the spoon was so slippery it shot out of my hand and landed on the floor. A flash and there was Flo bending over to retrieve it giving me a magnificent view of her overly ripe melons
Wiping the spoon on her little apron she placed it in my hand closing my fingers around it her hand lingering “Try to hang on it could be a bumpy ride”.
I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead as she departed, the sight of that grand canyon etched itself into my mind. Oh what great mammarys
Taking a gulp of coffee
Dam that’s stuff is good not like the mud Cooky would make out on the trail. I nearly drained in before setting it back on the table. And there was Flo with a coffee pot trying to fill it up again.
Putting my hand over the cup “whoa nelly I’m only paying for one cup”.
“You silly nit it’s a bottomless cup”.
Picking up the mug I held it over my head and looked at the bottom.
“The mug’s all there if not the coffee would be all over the floor” I said as I set it back down
Filling it back up “You're just funning me I know that you're not as dumb as a hitching post”.
She said as she headed back to the kitchen

“that wasn’t very nice of you; you were just funning her weren’t you”?
I just sat there with my big who me grin on my face.
Finishing off the bacon and eggs I picked up one of the dough noughts it was greasy feeling with a bit of a hard crust bringing it up to my nose it a pleasant aroma. Then I took a bite, I thought I had died and gone to heaven! Never in all my born days had I ever tasted anything like that before.
“These are inedible”!
“What, you mean that you don’t like them”?
“No, No there really good”.
“OH you mean incredible”.
“Yes that’s the word; I could eat a dozen of these things”.
“What was that you said about them sitting like lead”?
“That’s before I tasted one”.

Flo returned “I see that you’re finished this there anything else I can get for you, Coffee, tea or me”?
“Now Flo cut that out your embarrassing the boy”.
“We got to get going, how much do I owe you”? I said starting to stand up.
“Did you like the coffee”?
“Yes it was very good”.
“Well in that case it will be $4.50”.
“No just getting you back for earlier,
its three bits”.
I pulled out a fifty cent piece, placing it in her hand “keep the change”.

Flo gave me a pat on the ass on our way out
“ youall cume back soon now”.
“Looks like someone has taken a shine to you”
Miss Kitty taunted me on our way back to the saloon.

After breakfast I took my saddlebags over to the bank
“ Hi Clayton I would like to make a deposit” I said as I dumped the contents of the bags on his desk.
“How much did they pay you on that last drive”?
“Not this much, But I’m darn good at playing poker”.
“You see Clayton this I reckoned it to be my last trail drive. The railroads are pushing west and there no need to drive the cattle all the way to Dodge City anymore. I made the most of this trip and won nearly every hand of poker I played to the sorrow of any man that sat at the table with me”.
Clayton proceeded to count it out making piles upon piles and after three times through.
“Good god man do you know how much you got here? You got more money than me”!
I just stood there and grinned, little did he know that wasn’t all of it. I also had a Secret
stash buried outside of town just in case.
Handing me a bankbook and shaking my hand like a pump handle.
“I’m so glad to do business with you Ben Thank You for stopping by. Oh and by the way here is an 1888 calendar to celebrate the New Year”.

Kitty opened the saloon back up on Tuesday afternoon and by 8pm the place was packed , the crowed was a rowdy one most of the men had been stuck at home for the past three days and they needed to blow off some steam. Around ten I went upstairs to get away from the noise and confusion. Things were much more peaceful out on the trail; it was going to take some time for me to get accustomed to this environment again.

Ginny and I were back on her bed
suddenly a shot rang out the place went quiet then someone screamed
“He shoot bill”
Grabbing my gun I rushed back down to confront the gunman.
God he was big, but also quite drunk enabling me to land a sucker punch sending him stumbling backwards falling and hitting his head against the bar as he dropped . Down for the count, I was able to hog tie him and sent for the marshal.

Miss kitty tried to comfort bill. His wound was severe and before doc could get there, with his final breath “tell my wife I love her” he slipped away.
In the short time that it took for help to arrive the saloon had emptied out.
Marshal Tomas and his depute, Daug burst through the doors the small crowed that remained parted to let them pass.
Looking down at the man I just finished tying up “ NOT you again, your in a heap of trouble boy”
He then looked over to Miss Kitty.
Still holding Bill in her arms all she did was shake her head.
Turning back he let go a mighty kick simultaneously waking him back up and then causing him to pass out again.
“Get this piece of shit out of here”. he said as he turned to face me then started to laugh

“For gods sakes man go put on your pants”.
That’s when I realized that in my haste to get down to see what had happened I forgot something.
As I turned to retrieve me dignity Ginny was standing there holding my trouser.
The next day they held a funeral for Bill
Most of the townsfolk turned out to pay their last respects the small church was overwhelmed with more people than had been there on Christmas.

There was a young black man played the piano, I was quite impressed with his ability
after the services I asked the preacher what the young man's name was and he replied “Mr. Joplin”.
That night the saloon was quiet, real quiet with no one to play the piano. A few of Bill old friends stopped by and held an Irish wake for him.
The next day I sat down with Miss Kitty, Ginny and the rest of the ladies. It was decided that things were changing and that some new rules needed to be implemented.
First no guns allowed inside, if you had a gun it needed to checked at the door.
Ginny mention that the building next-door was empty. The emporium occupying it had just gone out of business.
I made a bid and bought the building with it, it nearly doubled the size of the saloon.

we commenced to remodeling opening up the wall opposite the bar with two elegant arches to the new space. In the front portion of the new building we positioned the poker tables and through the rear arched passageway leading to the brothel.
The walls were covered with emerald green velvet flocked wallpaper Persian carpet covered the floor with velvet curtains everywhere
Chaise Lounges, wing backed chairs and leather ottoman with dark walnut accent end tables
made a very posh the waiting room.

We kept the entrance to the saloon as it had been but now just inside the door to your right in the alcove between the bar and the front windows was partitioned it off to form the gun check.
Surrendering your firearms you received two bar tokens one to get your gun back and the other good for one free drink, three fingers of two cents plain. These also could be redeemed at the brothel. Ten got you a free bath.

The word was put out that we were looking for a few more qualified ladies of the night to augment our staff
After Miss Kitty and Ginny had interviewed them I got the Pleasure too!
Out of the two dozen that applied we picked out four young ladies that seemed well suited for our clientele. It was exhausting work but I was up to the challenge and I knew that it would pay off well.
Mr. Joplin was hired as the new piano player.
I really liked his style it was so much different than what Bill played.

The stage was set with new lighting and velvet curtains.

Soon we were booking vaudeville acts from all over the east.
The hardwood saloon became the talk of the town and business grew tenfold

One day near the end of February the marshal came in early one evening. Seems that the widow McTavish had come to town that morning while in the general store she had fallen ill. They took her to doc’s office but there was nothing he could do for her and she died that afternoon. Her last dying words were “someone please take care of Sandy”

He said to me “Well Ben I don’t know who Sandy is, it maybe a cow or it could be her youngen. Since her husband died she always came to town alone so I don’t know anything about if she had a kid. But I do know that they had some cows. Now you benign cattle man and not tied down would you mind riding out to her ranch and take a look around see? I’ll try to find if she had any kin about”.
“I guess I can do that, I’ll leave first thing in the morning. Where is the place”?
“It’s about twenty miles west of town just over the ridge beyond the railroad tracks”.
“Dam that’s goanna be a long ride to bad the train doesn’t make a stop out there”.

The next morning I went over to the livery and picked up my horse and the widow McTavish’s wagon. I was rightly impressed with it. It was a mightily fine Studebaker wagon.
The day warmed up fast and those half dozen cups of coffee I drank earlier wanted out.
Stopping the wagon I climbed down unbutton my britches and let loose a good healthy stream on a small bush. Suddenly a rattler sprang from under the shrub piss off being pissed on
this startled the horses. The horse hitched to the wagon started to rear up as more snakes came out from under the rocks.
With my pants down around my ankles I was barely able to make in into the back of the wagon before he took off at a gallop.
Bouncing around amongst the provisions trying to get my pants up.
Rounding a bend in the road, to my horror there up ahead were the tracks with a train highballing its way toward me!

Will Ben get the wagon stopped in time or is this the end of the line?
Come back next time and find out!

Anonymous readerReport

2015-05-05 18:50:14
Yes, it is a good story! I'd like to read more of it.

Anonymous readerReport

2014-10-24 06:13:59
I liked your story,

Despite numerous spelling errors, incomplete sentences and other things irksome to those of us who would like to preserve the English language, I enjoyed your story. Aside from the characters and background, I especially liked the historical references, like Studebaker wagons, Chase & Sanborn coffee and Mr. Scott Joplin, the brothel's piano player. Keep up the good work!

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