Learning The Trade (Book 2 of "Little Jill: A Western Whore")

By Nicola Nichols

As Little Jill heads west, dreading the uncertain reunion with her husband, she continues working for Warren—satisfying his clients’ lusts. Amazed to find the sex trade exciting and lucrative, she looks forward to an encounter Warren scheduled for her layover at her next stop. With her future dubious, she is focused on learning her new trade—mastering the skills of a western whore.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

Then, with him satiated and feeling good about paying for the room, he took me downstairs to the club dining room for a late lunch, after which we went to the bar for a drink and to meet his friends.

“Clayton, dear boy,” a tall woman said, coming up to him and kissing him on the cheek.

“Esther,” he said delightedly. “I want you to meet Little Jill.”

Esther’s face was attractive, but too strong to be beautiful. She had a lush, full figure and large breasts. Her provocative dress showed their fleshy tops, and the way she pulled her shoulders back you knew she was proud of them and took delight in people noticing the prominent orbs.

As we took the measure of each other, Esther’s eyes devoured me. “Aren’t you a delightful little one?” she sighed, touching my cheek softly. I tingled.

“Esther is our club’s de facto social director,” Clayton said.

“Not that this town has much that is social to direct,” she said. “Between the religious prudes and the ones who are just humorless dolts, it’s all a person can do to find any fun at all.”

“Well, you do seem to manage,” he said. “And Little Jill is neither of those.”

“Excellent,” she said, and then swept us into the bar. Soon I had a straight whisky in my hand and she took my arm, drawing me into a small whirl of people who touched as they talked.

“This is Edgar, my husband,” she told me, introducing me to a burly man with a nice smile. Then they introduced me to another couple, Jake and Elisabeth Anthony (“Lis,” the woman corrected) who were friends... just passing through on their way home to Santa Fe. Jake had shoulder-length brown hair that hung free. Elisabeth’s golden hair was tucked into a bun. They were both attractive people, but the most remarkable thing about them was the glimmer of enthusiasm, the sparkle of life in their eyes. It matched a sense of delight in their voices perfectly.

After them I met three or four rather faceless men whose names I missed.

After a circuit of the room, Esther took me aside and handed me a drink. Putting her own down, she rested her hand possessively on my arm and smiled. “I understand you pleased both Clayton and his son rather nicely,” she whispered. “Individually and as a team.”

“I hope so,” I said, seeing no point in being coy. Apparently, Clayton told her all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boruma Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Feb 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005029272

Book preview

LEARNING THE TRADE

Little Jill: A Western Whore

BOOK TWO

Nicola Nichols

Copyright © 2021 Nicola Nichols

All Rights Reserved

1

I let my gaze drift out across the desert landscape, wanting to revel for a time in its apparent, deceptive emptiness. The desert teems with life, but signs of it can be scarce. In some odd way, that reassured me.

I traveled west, sharing a stagecoach with a preacher’s wife who had made this leg of the journey tortuous. That we were both headed west was our only common bond. Her sights were set on Navajo country, where she would meet her preacher husband and save the heathen savages. She wallowed in her self-righteous view of the world and rambled on about the heavy burden shouldered by those doing the Lord’s work, bringing them to God.

For my part, I was continuing a journey intended to take me from my parents’ house and reunite me with my husband who had gone ahead to homestead in Lizard Creek, in the New Mexico Territory. It had been an eye-opening journey, one of exciting experience that transformed me from a penniless young wife, to something grander.

Although I still headed for Lizard Creek, my life had changed, and while I still headed for Lizard Creek, I now traveled in a different universe—one that the preacher’s wife would never comprehend, even if she allowed herself to imagine it. I was a whore, new at the work, and while I was still learning the trade, I prided myself on being a quick and eager student of the profession.

Fortunately, at our next stop, in Samson Flats, the paths Mrs. Stuffy Preacherwoman and I followed diverged. While she went off to visit with her sister, I’d go off with a man, a man I’d never met.

I knew the man’s name, Clayton, and that he expected to meet a whore. He was paying to have me indulge his sexual fantasies during my layover in Samson Flats, but that was all I knew about him. The prospect excited my body and my mind, and I looked forward to providing him with whatever pleasures he desired.

I’d taken to this life when it was suggested by a lover, a banker named Warren Lewis. I hadn’t realized the amount of money I’d need to make the trip, and after feeding me and fucking me, he suggested that I could earn money by entertaining his clients. After enjoying my services, that client asked me to entertain a client of his. And I was started on my new career.

I knew I had experienced little of this new life; I knew I had much to learn about what pleased men, both the things I’d like and the things I’d never thought of. Despite my inexperience but based on the way things had gone so far, I was certain I wanted to pursue it the life. I wanted to learn more about men, learn more about their desires, and what it might take to slake their hunger for women.

When I resumed my trip, Warren gave me his telegraph address. He also wired Clayton, singing my praises, he said. That was how it came to be that I was meeting Clayton… a rich rancher who banked with the branch there.

The preacher’s wife would pray with her sister, and I would fuck a strange man.

At the station, I saw a dowdy woman embrace the preacher’s wife and hustle her off. As the men unloaded the bags, I turned my attention to a tall, thin man in of middle age, dressed in a fine suite. He held a bowler in his hand and ran a hand through his thin, sandy hair.

Clayton? I asked.

His eyes danced over me, then he smiled. Little Jill? he asked, sounding hopeful.

That’s right, I said.

My birth name was Alice Larson, and my married name, Mrs. Dave Rogers, but when I started this adventure, heading west I’d adopted the name Jill. Jill Larson was the name I’d given Warren Lewis when we first met. Warren was my lover, my seducer, and the man who first raised the idea that I might like being a whore.

Along with recommending the life of a high-class whore, he was the one who gave me my nickname, started calling me Little Jill. As I am petite, the name seemed right. As far as that went, a men who paid to fuck me could call me whatever he wished.

You certainly look as fine as Warren promised, Clayton told me, his relief showing in his face.

I gave him a lingering look. I can say the same about you, sir. And I’m looking forward to us doing a lot more than looking.

That pleased him.

Put the lady’s bag in my carriage, he told the men unloading the stage. It’s parked out front. When he’d tipped them, he held out a hand and helped me in, just like he would a proper lady.

It was a fine start.

I thought I’d take you to my ranch, he said. It will be private there.

Excellent, I said, and off we went.

I understand your layover here is for three days, he said as we followed the dusty trail.

That’s what the manager said. The stages run less frequently the further west I go.

Fewer people. After a moment, he got to his point. I know that our arrangement is for today and tonight, but I wondered… are you available tomorrow and through the night as well?

I have nothing planned, I said.

Now that I’ve seen you, if things go well, and I’m sure they will, perhaps you could stay with me a second day. At the same rate, of course, he said, adding the last hurriedly.

It was a good rate, and as there was a branch of Warren’s bank here, I could deposit any I didn’t need for my trip in the account Warren had talked me into opening. I caressed his arm and leaned against him. If that appeals to you, then I can make myself available. Are you afraid that I won’t be able to satisfy all your desires in one day?

He laughed. No, no, not at all. I was thinking about my son, he said.

Your son?

He comes home from boarding school tomorrow. He’s a strapping young lad, and this summer he will enter the social scene. Because we have money, he will be a target for the daughters of many families and the schemes of their parents.

I see, I said, although I didn’t. You think he will have his head turned in a wrong direction?

Lead him by his prick, more likely. I’d like you to teach him the difference between marriage sex and sex for pure pleasure, the distance between lust and love.

Ah.

I want him to be happy, and I’m a firm believer that happiness in marriage comes from marrying a woman who is right for a man’s heart and head. Some excellent wives, women like his mother, might not be the best source of sexual satisfaction. He needs to learn that he can hire a woman who will provide that and shouldn’t marry to get pussy.

It was becoming clear. You want me to be his first sexual experience and make it clear that a woman like me is always available, that there are other qualities he should look for in potential wife.

Right. He marries a partner, and if she doesn’t satisfy him sexually, his money will get him all the wonders he wants. Once he sees that, when he chooses to marry, it won’t be simply to get laid. Or he won’t get a girl pregnant and have to marry her. No, with that knowledge, if he picks a wife because of her sexual prowess, then that will be a deliberate choice, an adult choice.

I found that Clayton’s arguments made a strange sort of sense. More significant at the moment, was that satisfying him, fucking his son, would earn me a nice sum of money.

If that’s what you wish, I would be delighted to show him all the pleasures a willing whore can offer.

Perfect.

I leaned against his arm. Given your philosophy, I assume that today, for your time, we will try to fulfill desires your wife is reluctant or unable to satisfy.

His eyes