9 comments/ 24436 views/ 7 favorites Arabella By: littlejenni1985 Chapter One It had been fifteen years since the end of the great war between the north and south. I had fought along side my Pa and my brothers in the victorious fight against the rebels. After the fighting was done, I went back home for a year or so, but found that I liked the adventure of traveling and gambling. This led me to St. Louis, Missouri. I took a job as a security officer with a river boat gambling company. I was well suited for the job. I'm a large man at six feet five inches and right near two hundred and fifty pounds. The battles in the war had left my face with a scar from my ear to my chin on the right side. Not many men liked me. Most feared me. The women avoided me. I had been in St. Louis for nearly two years when I became restless. I got that way sometimes. I had heard of the gold and silver mines in California and thought I would try my hand at getting rich. So, after collecting my pay, I told the boss man I was leaving and I never looked back. I headed out at first light, stopping at the general store to get supplies for the journey. A new canteen, chewing tobacco and some jerky. My horse, a steady Morgan named Runt, had new shoes and a full belly. We were ready. Although for what, we didn't know. The early September air was cool, but not cold. I knew that would change as I neared the Great Rockies I was prepared. My pack had my winter gear, my Winchester and my life savings and Runt had an extra set of shoes and a warm blanket. I always carried extra shoes for him. His hooves were twice the size of a regular horse and it was hard to find a smithy who could make them right. I used to have a smaller horse, but he tired quickly. I figured it was mostly because of my size. I had been on the trail for three days when I hit Kansas City. Although it was sunny and warm now, I had just traveled through two days of a cool rain. It was mid afternoon as I rode into town. I watched as the children ran around but mostly ran away as I rode up the main street. I watched as the women hurried them inside their houses and closed the doors. The people on the street gave me wide berth. Women scurried into businesses and the men rested their hands on their pistols. It was almost like I was a gunfighter. I had killed my share of men, but only in my battles in '64 and '65. Runt felt tired so I set my eyes to look for the livery stable. I could usually tell when he had enough. His stride slowed and his back began to sway from side to side. Even this sturdy horse tired of me on his back. I had to admit that I too was tired and could use something besides the jerky I had bought in St. Louis. I found the stables and tied Runt to the post out front. I heard the pounding of a hammer on steel coming from inside. As I walked in, I saw the smithy; a smallish man well less than 200 pounds, hammering a shoe into it's final form. He was wearing a leather apron over his dirty shirt. His shoes bore holes from the hot coals burning through them, I thought. In my normal deep voice, I yelled at the smithy over his pounding. "You got room for my horse for the night?" The smithy looked at me as if I had interrupted his sleep! Then as his eyes focused on me, his anger melted into a sheepish grin. "Um, yessir." The little man said as he sat his hammer on the floor. "That'll be two bits. Four if you want me to feed and groom him." "He's a Morgan. Any extra for him?" I asked. Most stables charged extra because he weighed almost double a normal horse. "No, that's OK." the smithy said. I reached for my pocket and pulled my change. Tossing him two quarters, I thanked him and turned to leave. "The saloon is right up the road. They have rooms there too if you need one." I tipped my hat as I walked out to grab my pack from Runt. The smithy stuck his head out the stable as I was throwing my saddle bag over my shoulder. "Damn, he's a beaut! What's his name?" he asked. "Runt." I said as I slung my pack over my shoulder. The smithy laughed. "I'll have him ready by sunup, Mister...." I glanced at him. "Jim...Jim Worrell. They call me Big Jim." I said. As the smithy slipped the reigns off the post, I heard him mutter, "No shit." I walked up the muddy street, the result of the two days of rain I had been riding in. I caught a glimpse of the sign on the front of the building. "Arabella's Saloon and Hotel" looked like an old weathered building. The sign was hanging a bit lower on one side. As I walked up off the street, the wooden planks creaked and bent under my feet. I walked up to the double doors and peered into the saloon to see about 10 people inside. Four men were playing cards in the corner. I thought that I might get into the game after I settled in. The rest of the place was occupied by men sitting in groups of two or sitting alone. There were two men standing at the bar. The barkeep was at the far end, washing glasses. I swung the small doors open and just about every head turned to see me saunter in, my pack and saddlebags slung over my shoulders. The barkeep saw me but just kept on doing his chore. The place grew silent. I was used to this. It happened everywhere I went. I tried to ignore it but sometimes the silence was deafening. This was one of those times. I tossed my bags on the floor at the near end of the bar and tossed my hat on the top beside me. The barkeep staid his course and didn't move. He barely looked up when I called him. Defiant little cuss! I raised my hand and slammed it on the bar. I watched as the other men at the bar picked up their glasses and walked further down the bar. One of the men, sitting alone at a table raised his hand to his six-shooter and rested it there. The barkeep sat down the glass he was drying, threw the towel over his shoulder and made his way toward me. He stopped about ten feet away. "That'll it be, Mister?" he asked. I heard his voice quake. I saw him glance down to the twin Colt's hanging from each of my hips. His throat moved as I saw him swallow nervously. "A beer and a room for the night." I said. He backed away and drew me a glass of a dark brew. I knew by the color it was going to be potent. I wondered how long he had been drawing from that barrel. He walked to me and sat the beer barely within my reach. "That'll be five cents for the beer and fifty for the room." he said, his voice still shaky. I reached for my pocket to fetch my change. The barkeep backed away slightly. "Fucking coward." I remember saying to myself. I threw two quarters on the bar in his direction. I lifted the glass and drank the beer down quickly. I slid the glass toward him. "Keep the nickel and gimme another one. I'll need the key too." I said. He retrieved my beer and grabbed a box from under the bar. Setting the beer down, he opened the box and pulled a small ledger out of the box along with the only key inside. "All we got left is room six. It's in the front and you got a good lock on the door. Nice view of the street too." he said, his voice steadying a bit. "Up the stairs, to the right, end of the hall on the left." he said. He handed me the ledger and I signed my name and he handed me the key. "You got a barber shop in this town?" I asked as the barkeep walked away with the box. He turned and pointed his thumb to the right. "Three doors down. Laundry is right across Main Street from there if you want to get cleaned up. They have a bath there too if you want to get the trail dust washed off." I downed my beer, grabbed my pack and headed up the angular staircase. I reached the top and looked down the hallway. There were six doors. Another door with a window in it was at the end illuminating the path. The door was unlocked. The room was sparse. There were a bed, a mirrored table and a wash basin. A towel lay beside the empty basin. There was a handwritten sign on the mirror above the table. "If you need water, the well is out back." I looked out the window and saw steps leading from the door outside the room down to the back of the building. I tossed my pack on the floor at the foot of the bed. Drew my wallet from my saddlebag, grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a shirt and headed out the door. I decided to go down to the street by way of the door outside my room. I locked the door and slipped the key into my pocket. Heading down the street, I spied the Barber pole outside a small building right where the barkeep said it would be. I walked through the door to see a small, balding man sweeping the floor. I laughed to myself at the irony of the barber going bald. He looked up, and by up, I mean way up. He must have been only 5 feet tall, but he was as big around as he was tall. His vest was open and his well-fed stomach overlapped his pants. A pair of red suspenders seemed barely able to keep his pants from being forced off his fat ass. He didn't seem afraid though. I admired his fortitude. "Ah, the last one of the day!" he said as he swung his chair around toward me. I sat in the chair as he asked me, "What'll it be stranger?" As I sat in the chair, I was still eye to eye with him. I wondered if he was going to be able to do a good job. "Shave and a haircut." I answered. He went to throw the towel around me when he noticed that I was still at eye level to him. "Damn, you're a biggun! He said. "Let me adjust the chair if you will." he said. I stood and he cranked the chair lower. I had never seen a chair do that before. "It's a newfangled chair I got from New York. Cost me nearly fifty dollars! Nice, huh?" he explained as he saw my reacion. "Pretty fancy." I said as I smiled and sat back down. As he began cutting my hair, we talked. I told him of my plans of finding gold in California. He told me that he has talked to quite a few strangers in the past who was doing that very thing. I asked him why I was going to be his last customer. "Hey! It's Friday. I'm going to the saloon and watch the dancing girls. Maybe I'll get lucky!" he said. I laughed. I thought to myself that he had a snowball's chance in hell of doing that. "I always close up around four on Fridays. Most places around here do, especially when the dancing girls come over from Wichita to Arabella's place." I thought to myself that it might be entertaining to see them myself. He began shaving me and like all other barbers, he commented on how tough my beard was. "Tough man, a tough beard, I suppose." he said. "Myself, personally, it seems that the hair just falls out." he said. I looked at his balding scalp. "Yea, I noticed." He looked at me and started to laugh. I liked him. It was refreshing to meet a humble man. He finished and withdrew the towel from around me. I stood and admired his rather good work. "How much?" I asked. "Fifteen cents." he responded. I tossed him two bits and told him to keep the change. "You did a fine job." The barber grabbed his broom and quickly went about sweeping up my hair. He was right behind me as I walked out the door. "What time do the girls start?" I asked as he locked the door. "Half past five. Should I save you a seat?" he asked jovially. "There's usually only standing room at the bar when the girls are in town." he explained. "No, I'll take my chances, but thanks, um..." "Joe. Joe Schmidt." "Jim Worrell. Nice to meet you Joe." I said as I began to cross the street. A bath was starting to feel really good. I entered the laundry right across from the barber shop. There was a very small Chinese man sitting in a chair right inside the door. "You need bath?" he said to me with a heavy accent. "How'd you know?" I asked. "Wear dirty clothes. Have clean in hand. Always like that when need bath." He explained. "You want I clean clothes. Bring to you in morning?" His broken English and high squeaky voice made me chuckle. "Yes, that will be fine." I said. How much for both?" I asked. "Want hot bath?" he asked. "Yes." "Ten cent. I bring clean clothes in morning. You at hotel?" I handed him a dime. "Yep. Room six." The Chinaman led le through the store to a curtained off area in the back corner of the room. He had a well tap right in the corner. He drew six large buckets from it and poured them into a big steel tub. From the other corner of the room, he had water boiling in the hearth. He dipped four buckets of the steaming water and poured it into the cold water he had already poured into the tub. "Take clothes off. Put outside curtain. I bring you in morning. Maybe six. That good?" "That's fine." I said as he closed the curtain around the tub. I tossed my clothes outside and got into the water. It felt good. A bit warm, but nothing I couldn't handle. I relaxed a few minutes before I began the job of cleaning my dirty skin. As I dressed after the bath, I heard the Chinaman grabbing my clothes. I finished dressing and drew the curtain open. The man had already started washing my clothes. "Aren't you going to see the dancing girls?" I asked. Just as I said that, a Chinese woman emerged from the back of the store. "No, he not! He go home. Eat dinner. Go bed." she said sternly. The man looked at me and just shrugged his shoulders. I laughed. "You want me get cologne?" he asked. Never being the one to like that stuff, I declined. "OK. Six A.M., Room 6. I remember." I agreed and walked out of the store. Walking back across toward the hotel, now clean and groomed, I wondered if the girls would live up to the expectations the barber had went on about. I decided I would see if they would. I went back up the outside steps to my room and went in to leave my hat. Locking the door, I proceeded to the stairs that led to the bar. As I approached, I heard voices and clinking glasses. A piano was being played. As I got to the turn in the staircase, I saw the bar was now packed with town folk. As I got about halfway down the second span of steps, I saw the majority of them looking toward me. Again, the place quieted although not totally this time. I walked past several men and a few women as I took my place at the end of the bar where I had stood when I first arrived. A second barkeep, this one not being as gun shy as the first, walked up to me right away. "What'll it be stranger?" "A bottle of your better whiskey." I said as I rested my elbow on the bar. "You want the whole bottle?" he asked. I turned to him sternly. He backed away and grabbed a bottle from under the bar. Setting it in front of me, he said "That'll be seventy-five cents, Mister." I chucked a silver dollar on the bar. "You want a glass?" he asked as he grabbed the coin. "Yea." I said as I pulled the cork and took a long gulp of the firewater. It didn't burn as bad as some I had drank, but it wasn't watered down either. The barkeep slid a glass next to the bottle and sat a quarter next to it. "Thanks," I said as he went about his job. Chapter Two I was on my second glass of whiskey, watching the different characters in the bar. Some were getting drunk and the night was just beginning. The same four men were still playing poker in the corner. A few were talking. Some looked at me while they were. I imagined that they were wondering who I was and if I was an outlaw. I got that a lot in a new town. I had even been accosted by different deputies and sheriffs along the way. And while I had never killed a man outside of war, I guessed that I looked like I did to many people. About fifteen minutes of this passed when I heard a clamor at the other side of the bar. "Arabella!" they yelled. I turned to see a woman slowly working her way down the steps. I could tell she was a 'sturdy' woman but I didn't mind. I actually preferred my women on the heavy side. When I finally saw her form emerge into view, I was struck stiff! Arabella was indeed one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. Her face, round and done in very little rouge, was aglow. Her hair, a wonderful auburn brown cascaded over her olive colored shoulders. Her bright red dress did nothing to hide the fact that she was very buxom. But I could see no signs of a corset. Her hips, wide and sturdy, flowed gently from her waist. Her nails were painted red. She wore black pointed boots. And even though she was not of normal size, she seemed to glide down the steps as if she were sliding. "Hi Boys!" she said as she got near the bottom step. Some of the men there clapped as she stepped onto the wooden floor. But soon they were right back to their regular revelry. The original barkeep stopped her as she neared the other end of the bar. I saw him and than her glance my way. Then she flat out stared at me. I feigned tipping my hat in her direction. She made no reaction. She began circulating amongst her clientele. She made her way to the piano player and he tinkled out a few chords. The men grew silent. "You men come for the dancing girls?" she yelled. The entire place erupted in catcalls and whistles. Arabella raised her hands and the place again quieted. "Well, Here they are!" she yelled. She swept her hand toward the stage to her left and the curtain opened. A group of six women, all in fluffy skirts, face paint and pointed shoes. They began kicking their legs high and turning and throwing up their dresses exposing their leggings beneath. I had seen much more scantily clad women on the river boats in St. Louis so this show was tame as compared to that. But the men in the saloon seemed to like the show. They were whistling and hooting up a storm as the women threw their skirts around with their hands as they twirled in a circle. My attention was riveted on Arabella. She was making her way around the place. She stopped and talked with some of the men there. She seemed very friendly but looked as if she took no guff from them as well. She made her way toward me, stopping at the table where the men had not stopped their poker game even though the girls were performing. As she closed the distance between us, she looked directly in my eyes. She walked up beside me, saying nothing. Just as I was about to greet my host, she grabbed the glass from my hand and poured a glass of whiskey from the bottle and drank it down. I admired her fortitude. Not many would have dared thinking about doing that let alone actually doing it. I smiled at her. "Can I buy you a drink, Ma'am?" "It's a little late for that, wouldn't you say, stranger?" she said. Her voice was silky and flowed from her unpainted lips. Her dark eyes met mine. "The name's Jim, ma'am. Jim Worrell." I said. "Just passing through, Jim?" She said as she leaned on the bar next to me somewhat closer than necessary. I could smell a slight floral odor coming off her. It was sweet like lavender. "Yes ma'am. I'm heading to California from St. Louis. Your barkeep put me up in room six for the night. I'll be leaving at first light." "You like the show, Jim?" she asked. "It's a bit tame compared to the river boats I worked on back in St. Louis, but they're nice." I said. "And what about you Miss Arabella. You from Kansas City?" I asked. "No. I grew up south of Wichita. Daddy still lives there." she answered. I offered her another whiskey. She pushed the glass toward me. As I filled the glass, Arabella reached for it and she touched my hand as I held it as I poured. It had been a long time since I had a woman touch me. At least one who I hadn't paid to touch me. My eyes found hers. She was staring right into mine. I have to admit that she was even more attractive now than I found her as she descended the steps. I stood straight up as she drank from the glass. Her head followed mine and her eyes got slightly bigger as she saw me at my full height. She placed the glass back on the bar. "Damn, you're a tall one, ain't you?" she said. I smiled. So did she. Just then the girls finished their show and the curtain closed on the stage. The men began cursing and yelling for them to come back. Arabella excused herself. "Gotta go calm the mobs." she said as she walked away. She got to the stage and announced that they girls would return in a half hour and that they need to rest their legs for a bit. Although this wouldn't have calmed me if I were them, they seemed to respect her and they did quiet. I was going to find out shortly that there was also fear along with the respect. Arabella began circulating among her customers again. She also stopped to talk to her bar help. I couldn't keep from watching her as she walked. She seemed to almost float. Arabella About a half hour later, once again the curtain on the stage opened and the girls began the same routine as they had done the first time. Now in St. Louis, when the second act started, the girls became more brazen. The dresses became shorter and the routines more risque. But not these girls. They did the very same act with the very same dresses. Even they looked as bored as I felt. And so was one of the men in the middle of the bar. He stood and yelled for the girls to do something different. Immediately Arabella glared at him and he sat down, although not for long. About ten minutes later, he again stood and cursed at the girls. But this time Arabella had made her way to him and as he stood on the chair and yelled at them, she reached between his legs and grabbed his gun belt. She yanked hard back toward herself causing the man to fall off the chair and hit his face square on the hard wooden table. The whole place erupted in laughter. Even the dancing girls stopped their routines and cupped their hands over their mouths and laughed. The piano player stopped playing and just about fell to the floor laughing. The man, bleeding and dazed, lying on the floor holding his face in one hand and his crotch in the other, turned to look up at Arabella. "Dammit, Jed! You do this every time the girls come here! How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?" she said, looking down at him. Jed got up slowly, grabbed his hat and staggered out of the bar, in pain and embarrassed. The whole place came alive again as they cheered Arabella. I was clapping myself, which is rare for me. It grew dark outside as the girls finished their last show of the night. Arabella had not been back near me again that evening. The bar began thinning out right after the girls finished their show. I was about ready to turn in myself when Arabella came over to me and asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee. I took her up on her offer as I had finished the bottle of whiskey except for the two glasses she had. I thought it would be a good idea to knock the haze from my own head. She went to the barkeep and he filled a pot and put it on the fire. The place was almost totally empty by the time the coffee was done. Even the poker players had left, leaving only four or five customers. I watched as Arabella grabbed two cups from the back of the bar and then the pot and motioned for me to join her at a table. I had not moved from my spot all evening and found my legs a bit wobbly as I made my way to the table in the corner near the piano. Arabella poured the coffee into the blue ceramic cups. The warmth of them felt good in my hands. Arabella and I talked for a long time. She told me about how her husband had bought the bar right after the war and how he had died defending her from the outlaws. "Well, he surely taught you well, judging from old Jed." I remarked causing her to laugh. "Well, he's really not that bad. Just when he gets drunk. He'll be in tomorrow to apologize to me." she explained. "That's if he can walk, Miss Arabella." I said laughing. "Please call me Belle. All my friends call me Belle." "Well, Belle, You sure know how to handle yourself. I quit wondering how you had the guts to walk up to me and take some whiskey. Not many would do that." I said. "I imagine that's so, being as big and mean looking as you are, but I knew better." she said. I looked at her quizzically. "Oh, you did?" I said. "You have gentle eyes." she explained. We talked for what seemed hours. It was only when the barkeep said that he was leaving that I realized that the three of us were the only ones left in the bar. I had been so engrossed in her words that I didn't even notice that all of the remaining customers had left and the doors to the bar were shut. I pulled my watch from my pocket. "It's after ten. I gotta be getting to my room. The Chinaman is delivering my laundry at six in the morning." I explained to my sweet host. "It's a shame you can't stay for a while, Jim. I think it's going to be a nice week end. As she said this, she put her hands around mine as I held my coffee cup. Her hands were gentle on mine, almost caressing them. Although I tried to fight it off, I found myself strangely aroused by her touch and her statement. I excused myself and stood beside the table. Suddenly shy, I backed away from Belle and turned and climbed the steps to go to my room. I locked the door behind me and lay on the bed. I cursed myself for not taking charge as I normally did in that situation. Strangely I couldn't muster the guts to try to have my way with Belle. I eased my self loathing with the fact that I really respected her. She was indeed a lady and not just a barmaid. I fought to go to sleep that night. It had to be well after midnight when I finally slept. I awoke with a big head, and cursed myself for drinking almost a full bottle of whiskey the night before. I pulled my watch from my pocket. It was almost nine in the morning. I should have been two hours closer to California by now. Again I cursed myself and finally decided to stay in Kansas City another day. Hell, at least the company was good. I opened the door and found my laundry wrapped in paper laying on the floor in the hall. I tossed it on the bed, put on my hat and went to check out the bar and maybe get some breakfast. I hadn't eaten since the day before, and even then it was only jerky. As I reached the bar, a man I had not seen was there cooking over the fire. "Ah, you must be the man in room six, right?" he asked. I mumbled something about him being correct and asked if he had any coffee. He pulled a pot from the fire and poured a cup and set it in front of me. "You want some hash?" he asked. I drew from the cup. The coffee was strong, just the way I liked it. "Yea, that sounds good." I said as I drew another mouthful of the hot brew. The man, John as I learned, scooped a plate full and sat it in front of me along with a wooden spoon. As I ate and drank more coffee, I realized that the doors were open and the bar seemed to be open but I was the only one there besides John. "Is it always like this in here in the morning?" I asked as I finished the hash. "Well, it was busy earlier. We usually get busy around five in the morning and normally it's like this by now." he explained. I had forgotten that it was now after nine in the morning. How much for breakfast, John?" I asked. "It's on me, Jim." he said. Just less I have to store for tomorrow. I walked to the doorway. Belle had been right. It was a beautiful day. Not too hot and not a cloud in sight. I stepped from the bar into the late morning sunshine. I walked back into the bar and asked John what there was to do in Kansas City on a Saturday. I thought about Belle and what she might like to do as well. "Well, they have a rodeo out at the old Durham ranch north of town every Saturday." he said. I walked over to John. "Do you know what Miss Arabella likes to do when she's not bloodying up her customers?" I asked. John laughed. "Did Jed act up again last night?" he asked knowingly. I nodded and smiled. Well, when her man was still alive, she used to like to take a buggy ride once in a while, Why do you ask?" he said. I explained the night before and he got a knowing twinkle in his eye. "You were the man she was up all the way to ten o'clock last night talking to then?" he wondered. I confessed that I was."How'd you know about that?" I asked."News travels fast here. Especially about strangers." he explained. "I heard it from one of the guys at breakfast." I asked for another cup of coffee and John obliged me. "So do you think Miss Arabella would want to go on a buggy ride with me?" I asked as I sipped the strong brew. "I'm not sure, but maybe if you just set it up, it'll force her hand." he said. I figured that I had better go let the smithy know I was staying another day anyway so I thought I would see if they had a buggy I could rent for the day. I walked to the stables. The smithy was busy at the anvil as he was the day before. I explained that I would be staying another day and asked if he had a buggy for rent. He said that he did and motioned to a really nice covered buggy in one of the stalls. I told him that Runt could pull it if he had the rigging and he stopped pounding long enough to fetch the rigging from over a short wall. I paid him for the rental and for another day of caring for Runt. I hitched Runt to the buggy and pulled it out of the stable and rode over to the saloon. I set the brake and walked into the saloon. Belle was sitting at a table near the bar sipping on coffee and eating a plate of hash. She greeted me with a big smile and invited me to sit with her. I leaned over the bar and asked John if he had said anything to Belle. He shook his head silently and smiled at me. Belle was in a beautiful yellow dress. It had a big bow on the front which drew it tight to her ample bosom. Her cleavage was even more apparent than the night before. Her face, devoid of any powder or rouge, was even more radiant than the previous night. Her nails, still painted brightly red, slowly revolved around the coffee cup sensuously. I sat across from her. "How did you sleep, Jim?" she asked between sips. I smiled, wondering if I should be honest. "It was a bit hard getting there, but when it came it was good." I decided to be honest. "I see that you decided to stay another day. I must say I'm pleased." she said smiling. "Well, to be honest, I slept in this morning. It was nine o'clock when I got out of bed. I figured I might as well stay another day since I had lost three hours of traveling time." Belle finished her coffee. Anyway, Belle. I rented a buggy for the day and I was wondering if you would accompany me on a ride into the country?" I asked. I watched a tear come to her eye. "Why, I haven't been on a buggy ride since my husband died. How did you know I liked going on buggy rides?" she wondered. I wasn't going to tell her but my glance toward John gave away my secret. Belle looked at John and smiled. "Well, Mr. Worrell, I would love to go on a buggy ride with you. It has been over two years since I have been out in the country and I couldn't think of a nicer gentleman to take me." she said, almost coyly. She wiped the tear from her eye and I got up and offered her my hand. Belle lay her hand in mine and stood. She walked beside me, not letting go of my hand. I helped her into the buggy. When I walked around and climbed into the buggy, Belle noticed Runt. "That's not one of Cappy's horses. Is that your Morgan?" she asked. ""Yea, that's 'Runt'." I said. Belle laughed. "That's kind of like calling you 'Tiny' isn't it?" she said laughing. I grabbed the reigns and slapped them gently on Runt's hindquarters. He came to life slowly and we started north out if town. Chapter Three We were barely out of town when we started to get to know one another better. I explained about my time in the Great War and how I had gotten to St. Louis from my home in Pennsylvania. I told her about my job on the river boats and about how the dancing girls were different there than in Kansas City or even Wichita. She told me how her husband had died defending her from the Indians and explained why she had gotten so emotional when I asked her to come along on the buggy ride. We were getting along nicely when we came to a clearing with a large apple tree right in the center. I stopped right next to the tree and helped Belle down from the buggy. I grabbed my blanket out of my pack and spread it down under the tall, shady tree. I picked a couple of ripe apples and handed her one. It was sweet and crisp. "So what made you keep the saloon open after your man died, Belle?" I wondered. "Well, I really didn't have anywhere to go and I had a roof over my head and I was making money so I figured that I might as well keep the place. It was hard at first. Dealing with the drunks was the hardest. Then there was a supply problem I had to deal with. The distilleries wouldn't sell to a woman. My brother John started working with me and I kind of let him order the hard stuff, just so I can have it." she explained. "Oh, John is your brother?" I asked. Belle told me that he was. "He's pretty nice. He gave me breakfast for free this morning. Coffee too!" I said. "Yes, I know, I told him to. I figured you'd have a big head from the whiskey last night. I left him a message before I turned in last night." she explained. "So that's how he knew I was in room six." I said. "I told him to look for a big, rugged-looking man with a scar on his face." she said. "Yep! That about describes me, alright!" "How'd you get the scar, John?" she wondered. "It's a funny thing, really. As many bullets and balls that were flying in the air in the war, I got this from a falling tree branch." I explained. "I was hunkered down behind a tree in Manasas, Virginia. The rebels were retreating, what there were left of them. I stood up after the sergeant gave the all clear and I heard a shot ring out. It was one of the greenhorns. He was so nervous that he pulled the trigger on his colt and it shaved off the branch right above me. It came down and smacked me right on the face. Put me out of circulation for a week. Still can't see too well out of my left eye." I explained at length. "Well, the doc did a good job of closing it. I've seen smaller scars looking worse." she said. "It was the company doc. He'd amputate a leg before trying to get the metal out of it, but I made sure he did my face good." I said. "It's not like I was anything to look at anyway. But between the scar and my size, I tend to scare a lot of people." Belle looked me dead in the eye. "Well, you don't scare me. Jim Worrell. And I'm kind of fond of your face too." she said. She reached over and grasped my hand. "Well, Miss Belle, I'm kind of fond of your's too." I replied as I raised her hand and kissed it. "But I have to ask you something." Not waiting for her permission, I dove right in. "What did you mean when you said I had 'kind eyes" last night?" "Well, Jim, when a man looks at another man they don't look at his eyes. When they look at you, they see a huge man. One who looks like he can handle himself. One who has seen many fights and probably won them all. The scar adds to that. That's probably why the women don't want to get near you either. Nor the children. My Mama taught me to look into a mans eyes to get a real feel into what kind of man he is. And even though you have this tough exterior, these calloused hands and that scar on your face, your eyes are gentle. They tell me that the man inside is really nothing like the man on the outside." I sat back and thought of what she had told me. She was right, of course, but I wondered why she was the first woman to see it? What made her so different? These were questions left unasked. In truth, I didn't want to know. And even though I had been with my share of women, women quite more worldly than herself, I found myself wanting to stay near her. And this was what confounded me more than anything. I took the last bite of the apple and threw the core at Runt. "Well, Belle, I have to say that you are some different kind of woman. So how come some lucky man hasn't snatched you up?" I asked. "Well, maybe I haven't let them. Maybe the right one hasn't come along. Hell, maybe they're as scared of me as they are of you! I don't know." she said, laughing out loud. "Well, I'd be scared of you too if you jerked me like you did old Jed last night!" I retorted. Belle smiled and laughed again. "He'll be talking funny for a week!" I said. Sometimes you just gotta get a man's attention before he'll listen to you!" she said as she made a jerking motion similar to the one she made on Jed the night before. "Well, Miss Belle, you have my attention. I watched as she turned a little flush in her cheeks. Still holding my hand, she leaned toward me. I watched as she closed her eyes as her face neared mine. She reached out with her other hand and placed it on the back of my neck and drew me to her. Our lips met slowly and softly. I felt a stirring that had been long dormant. I raised my hand and touched her cheek. If I had ever had a more perfect kiss, I couldn't remember. It had just the right touch. It was just the right length. And I thought it served exactly the purpose she had intended. Belle had brought the boy out in me. My thoughts turned to those of her petticoat and of loosening her dress. They turned to lustful wishes that I hadn't felt in years. I had planned on taking her right there. But Belle had other plans. "Well, john," she said as she looked me right in the eyes. "We had better start heading back to town. I have a saloon to run, you know." Slightly disappointed, I righted myself and stood and offered her my hand. She helped me dust off the blanket and roll it back up. I helped her back into the buggy and I turned Runt and we headed back to town. As the buildings of Kansas City came into view, so did the town folk. Belle was well liked in her town. Many people and children alike waved and smiled at her as we passed. I'm sure that most also wondered who I was because I had begun tipping my hat to the people and smiling at the children. For some reason, I didn't feel the need to keep up my 'tough guy" image around her. It didn't really matter anymore. She knew the truth and that was all I seemed to care about. When we pulled up in front of the saloon, and Belle had gotten out of the buggy she thanked me for a very enlightening day and asked me if I were going to stop by this evening. I told her I wouldn't miss it for the world. I tipped my hat as I coaxed Runt to head out. After dropping Runt and the buggy at the livery stable, I walked back to the saloon. John was still there and I pulled up beside him and asked for a beer. "I hear you're Belle's brother." I asked. "Yep. Have been all my life!" he said jokingly. "And you made quite an impression on her, I can tell you that! She seemed like she was floating on air! She didn't even say 'hi' back to me before she went upstairs." he said. I leaned toward him slightly. "She made a hell of an impression on me too!" I confided. He looked at me as if I had been intimate with her. He didn't seem to like what I had implied. I felt no need to have him thinking what he probably was thinking. "No, John, not like that." I said. "She's just a nice woman. I haven't met many like her." John seemed to understand what I was trying to tell him. He handed me the glass and smiled. "She deserves a nice man too." I had a bit of time to kill, so I went out exploring. I passed houses and businesses. I walked by a church with a graveyard on the side. That was right across the street from the undertakers place. I walked out to where someone was raising a building. It was framed but had little else done. A man was pulling planks up to the roof using a pulley and a rope pulled by a horse. I stopped to watch mostly because I rarely had seen how buildings went up. I noticed that the horse was straining to pull the planks and thought that Runt would have no trouble doing it. Then I saw why the horse was having so much trouble. The rope broke and the horse stumbled forward. The planks fell in a heap and a bang. I thought that they might have overloaded the rope. Then I heard someone yelling that someone was under the fallen planks. I ran over and started tossing the planks off of the man. There were nearly fifty of them and the man they had fallen on was out cold and bleeding like a sieve from a wound on his head. I pulled the last plank from him and grabbed my kerchief and put it on the deep gash and held it there. I had learned this from my service in the war. "You got a doc in this town?" I yelled to a boy nearby. He didn't answer and just stood there stiff as one of the planks I had just pulled from the man. Someone yelled to get the doc and came beside me to help. "That is the boy's father." the man said as he knelt beside me. The man had not moved but was moaning so he was at least still alive. A crowd had formed and I heard someone say to let the doc in. Soon an old white-haired man knelt beside me and asked me what I thought I was doing. "I'm holding something on his head so he don't bleed to death! What the hell do you think I'm doing?" I said angrily. "Let me see it. Move your hand a minute, Mister." the doc said. I moved my hand and my kerchief. "The doc looked at the man's wound and said that it must have been a glancing blow or he would be dead from those planks falling on him. "Looks like he just got scalped a bit." he said. I got to get him to my office so I can get him stitched up. Can you help me get him over there." the doc asked. "Hold this on his head." I said to the doc as I handed him the bloody kerchief. As he did, I picked up the man and carried him the nearly 200 yards to the doc's office. I laid him on the table and the doc thanked me and told me he was sorry for what he had said. Arabella I stepped back and watched as the doc pulled out some kind of needle and thread and began sewing the man's scalp back onto the rest of his head. I watched as some people looked into the doc's window. I felt like I should leave and let the doc do his work. As I opened the door the man's son was outside. I stood outside of the doc's office and pulled the door closed. The boy, barely ten I figured, was looking up at me. Then out of nowhere, he ran up to me and hugged me. I knelt down. "The doc says he'll be OK, boy." I said. He's just going to have a sore head for a while. The boy threw his hands around my neck and hugged me again. In the smallest of voices, he said, "Thank you, Mister!" I felt a rush of emotion. I had to get up and walk away. As I did, town folk began patting me on my back and telling me thanks. Some even clapped like I had been on a stage! As I walked through the crowd, a man walked up to me. "Mister, you looking for a job?" he asked. I turned to him. "I need someone like you. You're as strong as an ox! I saw you throwing those heavy planks like they were kindling wood. And I gotta get someone to replace Frank in there 'til he gets back." "No sir, I'm not. I should have left this morning. I'm just passing through." I explained. "Well, if you change your mind, come see me back at the construction sight, OK?" he said. I told him that if I did, I would. I walked back toward the center of town. I actually felt really good about myself. That's something I rarely felt. But then I would rarely have done what I did before I got to town. I cursed myself for getting soft. As I walked up to the saloon, Belle was standing out front. She smiled at me as I strode up to her. "Is Frank going to be OK?" she asked. "Damn, news travels fast in this town!" I said as I smiled at her. "Yeah. The doc says he should be OK, but he got scalped a bit." Belle smiled at me again. "You going to take Mr. Perry's offer of a job?" she asked. I was astounded at the rate of travel of the news! "Not unless I get some kind of sign that I should be here. But as of now, I'm leaving at first light." Belle moved to the side and I walked past her into the saloon. I stood at my spot at the bar and John pulled me a beer and slid it in front of me. "It's on me, Jim" he said as he explained his reasoning. That being my deed at the construction site and for being a gentleman with his sister. "You're not going to pay for another one as long as you're here. Your money is no good." he explained. "What is Belle going to say about that?" I wondered. "What Belle doesn't know won't hurt her, will it?" he said. I agreed. It was getting near five o'clock and the town folk were beginning to congregate at Belle's. Most of the same crowd as the night before with a few faces I hadn't seen. The same four men were sitting at the same table playing poker, still seemingly oblivious to the other people. The show would be starting soon. But Belle was still standing out front still wearing her dress from earlier. I stood at the end of the bar, lost deeply in thought. I turned when I noticed that Belle had came inside and was heading for the steps. She said nothing to no-one on her way through. I even thought I had seen a tear in the corner of her eye. I wondered if I should say something to her, but my stubbornness kept me where I was. I was going to do what I wanted, I told myself. I had convinced myself that I would be gone and she would forget about me. I thought it would be better for her. And I thought it would be easier for me. But just as soon as I tried to convince myself of this, something told me I was wrong. But I told myself that unless I knew for sure; that unless I had gotten some kind of sign; I would be gone at first light in the morning. Belle made her grand entrance as she had the night before. She was draped in a green gown. Soft and flowing. Her face was devoid of any fake flush from the rouge that so many wore, just as she was the night before. And just as then, she made her rounds, stopping at each table to meet her customers. The only thing different in her routine was that she avoided me. Even though I smiled as she approached, her eyes looked away. She introduced the dancing girls as she had the previous night, but her flair was gone. She showed much less enthusiasm. She walked off the stage and stood at the opposite end of the bar. The swaying to the music that she had done last night was gone. The brash, confident aura that surrounded her had faded to almost schoolgirl fearfulness. I figured that she was trying to distance herself from me because she knew I would be gone before she awoke. John was talking to her but she was not answering him. At least not that I saw. He waited until Belle began making another round amongst her clientele and then he walked down to my end of the bar. "What the hell did you say to her?" he asked forcefully. I turned and glared at him. He held his ground. "I didn't say anything to her. I just told her that unless I got some kind of sign, I was leaving in the morning." I told him. "Well, do you need that sign to hit you on the head before you see it?" he asked me. "What do you mean?" I wondered. "Damn it, Jim! Can't you see that she is hurting! I haven't seen her looking like this since her husband passed. If you're looking for some kind of sign, just look at her!" he said. "John, she doesn't need a man like me. I get bored easily. I uproot myself every two years or so on a whim. I'm downright mean at times." John looked at me dead in the eye. "Maybe you haven't found something to keep you in one place yet. And you might get angry once in a while, but you sure as hell ain't mean. Not when you do what you did this afternoon with Frank. A mean man would keep on walking." he said. I thought about what John had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe Belle was someone I could stick around for. But she was going to have to tell me she wanted me to stay. Chapter Four I watched as Belle made her rounds. As she neared me, I reached out and grabbed her by the arm. "Tell me you want me to stay, Belle. Tell me you don't want me to leave." Belle pulled her arm from my grasp. "I will not, Jim Worrell. I won't stand in the way of a man's dream ever again. Go out to California and get rich if that will make you happy. I wish you all the best." Belle walked away. I couldn't say anything. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe john was wrong. But if she wouldn't tell me she wanted me to stay, then I was going. I guzzled my beer and walked out the front doors of the saloon. I didn't want to walk past Belle on the way to my room. I turned the corner and started up the outside steps. I looked into the window as I got to the landing. Belle was looking up at me as I passed. I had to forget her. But forgetting her was something I wasn't going to be able to do. Even though I had willed myself to sleep, sleep didn't come. I kept seeing visions of her. I saw her painted fingers as they played around the rim of the coffee cup. I saw her as she fearlessly poured the whiskey from my bottle and drank it. I saw her practically de-nut old Jed. I saw her sitting under an apple tree and talking to me as if I was really important. I saw her face as it closed in on mine when we kissed. Then I saw her as she stood out front just hours ago. I saw her avoiding me as she walked amongst the crowd. I just kept seeing these images. They flashed through my mind incessantly and repetitively. I told myself that it was best for both of us. I told myself to get over her. My heart told me that I was lying to myself. Then my mind stopped. "Aw, dammit!" I said to myself as I sat up on the side of the bed. Why did this have to be the one time I was going to listen to my heart? Why this town? Why this woman? "Why?" I said out loud. I got up and put my hat on. I slung my door open and took one step. "Belle?" I said as I saw her there. Her tears told me all I needed to know. I reached down and put my arms around her. I felt her chest heaving as she cried on my shoulder. I walked backwards into the room, drawing her with me. I found the towel beside the wash basin and handed it to her. "I was thinking about taking that job with Mr. Perry." I watched as her eyes lit up and the tears pooled on her lashes. She ran to me and slung her arms around me tightly. "He pays a fair wage, doesn't he?" I asked jokingly. Then I did something that I hadn't done since I was a boy. I began to cry. "Belle, I'm sorry I put you through that tonight. And I promise that I won't ever do it again." I said through my sobs. She raised her head and kissed me. "You better hadn't! You do remember what I did to old Jeb, don't you?" she said chuckling. We dried our tears and I sat her on the bed. She dabbed the towel to her eyes one last time. "Do you know what I was coming up here to do?" she said, placing the towel on the bed beside her. I shook my head. "I was coming here to give you a sign." she explained. I smiled at her broadly. "Well, considering how I acted, the sign should have read 'dunce.'" she laughed. No, I was thinking of something a little more flashy." she said as she stood in front of me. She turned me around and sat me on the bed. Then she went to the windows and pulled the shades. Her last act was to close and lock the door. Belle turned to me and saw that I was smiling. Then she stepped away and grasped the top button of her dress. "I like what you call 'flashy,' miss Arabella!" I said and started to stand. Belle pushed me back on the bed. "Oh no you don't, Mister James Worrell. You just sit right there and watch!" I did as she wished. Not that I thought I was being punished anyway! Bella began unbuttoning her dress. When she got to the waist she let it fall to the floor. Her white sleeveless petticoat was staring me right in the eye! My eyes were steady on the cleavage that was revealed as she slowly unbuttoned it. The petticoat slowly peeled down the front of her bosom, revealing itself two inches at a time. I watched as her fingers twisted each button through it's hole and saw as this resulted in just a bit more of her heavy chest being revealed. I had to wipe my mouth on the towel that Belle had left on the bed. My drooling was akin to seeing the goose being plated on Christmas day! With one simple circular motion, Belle moved her hand toward me. I knew exactly what she meant. I reached up and started my own show for her, although I thought my show to be a poor comparison to the one I was receiving. By the time Belle had reached the first button under her hefty bosom, I had my vest, shirt and under shirt completely off. Belle began undoing the rest of her buttons just as slowly as she had the rest. It was agony watching inch by inch of her white skin being exposed to me. She got to the last button and raised her hands, holding her ample chest up and in, recreating the cleavage that I so desired! Then she put her arms through the wide straps at the top of the petticoat and let it fall to the floor. She was exposed to my eyes fully. And the sight was magnificent! Her heavy flesh was prominent and well self-supported despite their weight and they were seemingly defying gravity! Belle, reached up and released the pins in her hair, allowing her tresses to flow regally past her shoulders, just licking at her firm, brown nipples. With her hands at her side now, I lowered my gaze to the sacred spot where her legs met. The hair was full and rich, much the same as the ones on her head. Just outside of this, her hips swelled beautifully outward from her waist and then flowed like a river down onto her legs. Her feet were dainty, even smallish as compared to the rest of her frame. I found this sight irresistible! I raised my hand and Belle placed hers in mine slowly. "My God! How beautiful you are!" I said as she slowly let me pull her to me. I kissed her deeply and circled my arms around her exposed flesh and ran them up her back. She sighed heavily through her nose as I touched her for the first time. Her passion rose with each stroke I made on her naked skin. As did mine. Wanting to take my time and yet strongly needing to touch her wondrous orbs, I slowly ran my hands down her back and lay them on the soft skin of her behind and pulled her closer to me. Her kisses became deeper, more intense. I let my hands slide around to her sides and slid them down her legs. Belle moaned into my open mouth as she felt my hands begin their journey back up her smooth skin. I gently raised my hands until they touched her gently heaving breasts. She moaned yet again as my hands sought out her incredible mammaries. Even my large hands were no match for their size, although I was able to grasp most of them and raise them up. My fingers found and then circled each pink-brown nipple, which hardened under my touch. Letting them fall to their natural place, I found her nipples again and squeezed each one gently at first and then with slightly more force. I was testing to see what she liked. I broke our sensual kiss and lowered my mouth toward my fingers. Belle pulled my head toward her bosom as my lips neared her soft, heaving mounds. I placed my hands under her breasts and lifted first one and then the other nipple to my lips, gently suckling them like a newborn babe. Belle inhaled sharply as my mouth met each firm nipple. Her caresses begged me to continue. As I surrounded her right teat with my lips and began suckling it, I heard her moan and say, "Harder. Oh God yes, harder!" Knowing full well what she wanted, I complied with her wanton desire and began sucking each one harder and harder every time I placed my lips on them. Soon I felt Belle's legs begin to shuffle and I stood and sat her on the bed. When she sat, she almost instantly reached up placed her hand on my manhood through my britches. She reached up and began to unbutton them. The slowness of her own undressing had left her. She almost seemed in a hurry now. Her hands shook as they released the buttons. When the last one was undone, she place her hands on the side of them and drew them down my legs, her eyes never leaving the spot where my manhood caused them to bulge. She helped me out of them and then her hands moved up my legs and Belle firmly grasped me and kneaded my staff with a look on her face best described as hunger! She squeezed it with both hands, kneading it like dough. Very stiff dough. I could hear the roughness of her breathing as she watched her hands encircle me. But I did not need this attention. I was hungry. I took Belle's hands from my manhood and lay her back on the bed, helping her to ease herself onto the pillow. I lay beside her, our lips met yet again as our hands explored each other. Her hand again found my manhood and mine searched for her warm, hair-covered mound. As my hand sought and then found it's prey, I felt Belle shudder and heard her moan as my finger parted her most private parts, searching for her glory! Our kisses became more wanton, more needful as we gorged on one another's flesh. My fingers, long being out of practice, finally found that which they sought and plunged into the depths of Belle's womanhood. Belle moaned as I inserted first one finger and then a second into her cavity. She started bucking her hips up to meet my digits as they plunged into her. Even this was made easier because of her wet discharge. Her scent was driving me to insanity and I felt that if I didn't have her soon, I would surely go mad! But Belle was bucking violently against my fingers now. Her head was pressing back on the pillow as if she were in acute pain. Her hands were clenched so tightly her nails were digging into her palms. Her orgasm had begun, and I would not deny her. Her moans were steady and deep. Her pelvis bucked hard against my body. I felt her tender folds encompassing my fingers and then pulsate around them. I had my fingers in her so deeply that I was touching the entrance to her womb! And even it was moving. I was enthralled with her ease of obtaining her ultimate pleasure. I developed a strong liking of listening to her in the throes of her passion. Her moans, gasps of breath, pelvic thrusts, all were so enticing that I was enamored; smitten by her passion! Belle lowered her hand and pulled mine from her moist privates. As I removed it from her depths, she began kissing me yet again, breaking this passion only long enough to beg me to make love to her. I needed to be asked only once. I lifted my body away and over hers, still maintaining our sensual buss. As I got into position between her firm but quaking legs, Belle lowered her hands and grasped my manhood, placing it at her hearth. Rubbing it up and down the length of her heated lips she caressed herself with me, making me even more wanton of slipping my staff into her. Belle must have known I needed to be inside her as she spread herself and placed me at her entrance. I pushed into her slowly. Her hands found my bottom and she pulled me into her more sharply. My head reared back in lurid lust. Another stroke found my member completely within her heated folds. She brought her hands up from me and began kneading her heavy breasts. Belle twisted her nipples and begged me to suckle on her. I arched my back and found her hard protuberance and suckled deeply. Belle held them up for me, easing my access to them. As I did this, I slowly began withdrawing myself and then pressing back into her. She enveloped me with every stroke, punctuating every stroke with a moan as I sunk as deeply into her as my body would allow. I returned my lips to her lips. Again seeking her passion, I grasped her bosoms and kneaded them soundly. Belle brought her legs up toward her heaving, breasts and grasped then at the knees, allowing me better access to her depths. Her moans began to shorten and gradually were replaced by guttural grunts. She had her hands on my hips once again and was pulling me into her more violently and more frequently. Quickening my pace to match her desire, I started bouncing my body on hers, causing a slapping sound when our bodies met. I enjoyed watching as her gently rolling breasts became fluid masses bouncing on her chest. I began to feel my seeds release from my scrotum and my own bliss was becoming more pressing. I would have to concentrate if I wanted to make sure that my climax matched hers. But it would take all of my will to keep from spraying my seed before she had reached her peak! The walls of her womanhood were closing in on me. As I had felt with my finger earlier, her tender canal engulfed me with it's tension, begging me to push her over the edge of her climb to euphoria. And yet I was to do this without falling off that very edge before her. I was precariously perched when I heard her reach her peak. Her hips were pushing into mine. Her breath came in short gasps and long moans. Her voice directed sweet bliss to my ears and gently pushed me to release myself from my torture. I pressed myself deep within her and spilled my seed in gloriously erotic spurts. Bell's voice told me she could feel me spraying her womb with my seed. Her hands pulled me in so as not to let one drop spill from her. My gasps coinciding with every spurt of my manhood. I fell into a place with no time. It was as if I was floating above the bed! My only connection was the tether from my hips to hers. Slowly I regained my own will. I opened my eyes to see Belle lying beneath me, her hands clenched and her eyes closed tightly. Her breathing was rapid and deep, much like my own. I lowered myself and caressed her cheek with my lips. She turned her face to me, but her eyes remained closed. Her legs were surrounding my still hips, not allowing me to escape from her depths. Her arms encircled me, drawing me to her bosom. Her lips drew mine to hers again. I felt as my manhood contracted and slipped from her. I was spent. Belle must have sensed this because she allowed me from between her outstretched legs. I lay beside her, still kissing her and caressing her moist skin. Arabella's Dilemma Once upon a time, in a kingdom faraway lived a beautiful maiden called Arabella. She had long, flaxen hair and beautiful eyes the shade of the sky on a clear blue summer's day. She was a delight to behold with her slim, tightly corseted waist and full riding bosom that always seemed to spill over the top her restraining, but exquisitely guilded bodice. As she gazed out of her bedroom window, twirling a soft lock of her hair through her fingers, her mind wandered away to her latest. His cum was still sticky on her lips, slightly stinging in the back of her throat. She swallowed again. Savouring the taste, she explored the corners of her mouth, running her tongue lightly over her lips seeking to remove the last remaining silver traces. As she longingly watched her latest leave, Arabella missed the drips that had found their way down her chin into the deep cleft of her generous breasts, or else, she would have fished them out and devoured them, too. Arabella could feel the fluid heat of her pussy juices oozing down her thighs, and seeping into her satin underskirts. The aching sense of fullness at the top of her thighs persisted. She could not help but groan with frustration and the throbbing was almost too much to bear. She turned from the window as he rode away and collapsed into her rumpled bed sheets. Yet another had tried to deflower her, but failed. "Damn this curse!!" she hissed as she raised her skirts and attempted to appease the angry red petals between her legs. Instinctively, she moistened a finger. Not that she needed to. Her juices were smeared between her thighs and glistening in her golden pubic hairs. Arabella tapped her clit and gently strummed the two painfully swollen lips. She tried to finger her hole, but her sex was so engorged, it was swollen shut. Arabella moaned. She traced the outline of her breasts gently, and then kneading firmly, for her corset was binding, found her hard small nipples. She pinched and tugged as best she could. Growing increasingly aroused, she forced her hands down into the top of her corset, fishing out her large, soft pillowy bosom. Arabella lifted both breasts to meet her outstretched tongue, so that she could savour the tight, pink rosebuds. As she flicked away at them, circling the areolae, her fingers found the sticky remnants of cum that had escaped her lips nestled deeply between her breasts. She coated her fingers with it. Eagerly, she reached down to tenderly caress her rearing clit with what remained of the cum juices. With the first stroke, she heard a flurry of footsteps outside her door. She righted herself immediately with the first rap on the door, her breasts perched painfully atop her corset. "Time for the banquet, My Lady!" an impatient courtier called through the door. "I'll be right down." Arabella replied. Quickly, she donned her shoes, straightened her tiara and smoothed her gown. She tugged at her bodice, as she attempted to stuff her unruly breasts back into her dress as best she could. With a final glance in her ornate full-length mirror and a quick toss of her ring-letted locks, Arabella made her way to the awaiting carriage. The bumpy five-mile journey over the cobble-stoned road to the banquet did none too good to quell the rising unresolved feelings still deep within her. Every movement of the rocky carriage contributed to her already heightened state. The carriage was dark and she traveled alone. She slipped off her shoes and raised her layered, frilly skirts. The soft rustle of fabric was almost lost in the hurried clash of hooves on the cobbled street. Arabella again moistened her finger, seeking those tender pink lips. She steadied herself by bracing her stockinged feet widely against the wall of the rocking carriage. Moaning, she kept her finger motionless on her clit. The rocking carriage was sufficient for now. Feeling herself swell, she slowly slid her finger back and forth, over her clit. As she touched her inner lips, they felt so stiff and engorged, so painfully sweet. She strummed her pussy lips, pulling, caressing, rubbing, and tapping her clit ever so gently. She glanced out of the window. "Almost there..." she thought as she attempted to force a finger into herself. Poor Arabella. When she was incredibly horny, her pussy lips got so large that they swelled shut, making penetration impossible. She made a 'V' with the forefinger and thumb of one hand and attempted to pry her pussy lips apart with it. The action made her groan with painful pleasure. With the other hand, Arabella attempted to penetrate her opening, slowly worming her way in, between the full slippery lips, as her juices trickled down her hand. Agonizingly sweet pain engulfed her center, as she encountered her maidenhead. She tried to push through the pain, but to no avail. Her maidenhead would not give. Not to be deterred, she flicked her clit in her typical cum hither fashion that always got her off. She felt it coming now. Breathing hard, she intensified her clit strokes, releasing the pinned labia, as they schlupped softly together. Arching her back, Arabella pulled back the foreskin covering her protruding clit. She pressed in on it, rubbing hard. The raw sensations engulfing her bare clit were too much to bear. Arabella exploded. Her pussy juices spewed high out of her, arcing through the night air in pulses, soaking her underskirts, as she writhed in ecstasy. Arabella cried out loud, and then caught herself, turning to muffle her sounds. She managed to pull herself together just in time as the carriage arrived at the ball. She tumbled out of the carriage on weak, damp legs. Kicking her sodden petticoats to prevent them from sticking to her legs, Arabella made her way inside. As Arabella entered the banquet hall, she collected her thoughts. She was here to find the one man who could deflower her and give her full release. Failing that, she would have any man who could do the same and end her torment. The hall was exquisitely decorated. Soft lighting, delicious treats, and a stringed quartet, softly serenading the diners. Arabella joined the guests and ate, but the conversation grew dull. Her mind strayed to her dilemma. It all started at the grand ball held in honour of her twentieth birthday at her Grandfather's castle. Arabella had developed a crush on Wyatt, a handsome young knight at the Castle. She fantasized he would be her first. Unbeknownst to Arabella, Wyatt was said to be courting Drucilla, a young sorceress' apprentice, who had in reality bewitched him. Wyatt despised Drucilla, but could never tear himself away from her. It was Arabella that he loved. When Arabella saw Wyatt at her ball, she seduced him away to the garden, where beneath a large oak, his eager cock plundered her mouth. Drucilla suddenly appeared then, having searched for Wyatt everywhere. The shock of seeing Wyatt, britches encircling his ankles, plunging his organ into Arabella's hungry mouth was too much to bear. She roared at them. Startled, Arabella pulled her head away from Wyatt's cock. Arabella withdrew so roughly that the great suction she had created made Wyatt forcefully ejaculate long spurts of semen that smacked the face and breasts of his terrified lover. Drucilla cursed them: Arabella would forever flow with copious wetness, but her maidenhead would be impenetrable to all but Wyatt. Wyatt was banished into the unknown. Arabella glanced around the room, scanning the dancers for someone new to help break the curse. "Slim pickings", she mused to herself. Faltering on her search to find Wyatt, she had unwillingly resigned herself to any man who was able. There had been a myriad of nameless cocks that attempted to pierce her unyielding maidenhead without success. Tears welled in her eyes as she contemplated a life of perpetual virginity. Her heart sank. She hurriedly left for the garden, not wanting the other guests to see the tears streaming down her face. She took shelter under a large tree, her chest heaving from the exertion of her sorrow. Her tears flowed freely now. She lifted her skirts, in an attempt to comfort herself again. Opening her legs, she found her sweet spot. Arabella's fingers glided over her button, playing cum hither with it. Moaning, she collapsed against the trunk of the tree. Her copious juices flowed through her skirts and seeping into the earth as her excitement grew. Arabella braced herself against the mighty tree trunk, digging her heeled shoes into the ground for anchorage as she heatedly stroked herself. As her pussy watered the earth, the great tree shuddered, as if seeking to seep up her juices. When Arabella climaxed, this time her juices squirted into the ground, saturating the earth around her. The tree rumbled and with a loud crack, the trunk split in two, throwing her roughly to one side. Terrified, Arabella struggled to her feet as best she could, only to look up and see her long lost beloved climbing from the belly of the tree. "Wyatt!" she called, running to his arms. "Arabella my beloved, I thought you would never see you again." Wyatt explained that he had been banished to the oak by evil Drucilla. Arabella looked up and about her. In her deep sadness, she had not realized that this was the very same tree under which she had first tasted his cock. Wyatt gathered Arabella up into his arms, and gently laid her out on the dried leaves littered about the ground. He cradled her head in his arms as he tenderly kissed her lips. "I have waited so long for you, Arabella". "And I for you. Now I know why I could not find you anywhere," She replied. "I was convinced I would die intact." Wyatt, wanting to remove that horrible possibility from ever coming to pass, gently parted her legs and climbed atop his long lost love. He lovingly rained kisses on her face, neck, and hair. Wyatt hands searched the back of her bodice and finding the fastening, pulled on it to free her breasts. Arabella sighed as he gathered them up, burying his face in them. Wyatt tongued their peaks, and in turn spanned her areolae with his mouth, trying to leave no pink exposed. Moaning his name, Arabella gripped his waist with her legs. "I want you now, " she whispered, brushing his ear with her lips. Wyatt eagerly obliged. Pushing his britches from his legs, he threw her skirts higher, as his hard cock sought her soft wetness. Accustomed to painful attempts, Arabella braced herself. Feeling her stiffen, Wyatt reassured his lover. Although he wanted her desperately, he tried to restrain himself from driving his cock straight through to the very center of her. Arabella breathed hard in anticipation. Wyatt pressed into Arabella's pussy, through her pain, parting the tight, full lips with his rigid cock. When he came upon her maidenhead, he nudged it with tip of his cock at first. She groaned in sweet agony. He hushed her. Kissing her lips sweetly, he tore through her maidenhead with a sharp upward thrust of his cock. Waves of pain engulfed Arabella, as she realized Wyatt was completely embedded within her. Groaning, as he buried the root of his cock in her tightness, Wyatt began the first of many tender strokes within his lover's pussy. As Arabella's pain turned to pleasure, her bloody wetness ran clear and she thrust her hips to meet Wyatt's. The lovers heaved and sweated, their groans filling the garden, as birds fluttered away from their night roosts. Arabella rode these new sensations of pleasure to their natural culmination. As she came, she cried out, flooding Wyatt's thighs with her juices. The rhythmic pulsations of Arabella's pussy squeezed Wyatt's cock with such force that he too came. Abandoning restraint, Wyatt gripped Arabella's hips and pummeled into her, spewing jet after jet of hot cum deep into her belly. Spent, the lovers lay in the leaves of the moonlit garden. The curse had been broken. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and with a flash of light, evil Drucilla appeared. Arabella had a plan. As Drucilla approached, she quickly whispered to Wyatt, "Seduce her!" Puzzled, he agreed. They met Drucilla with kisses that led to fondling. Taken aback her rage soon turned to desire. Drucilla grabbed Wyatt's cock roughly, "Fuck me, now" she grunted. Without missing a beat, Wyatt vengefully threw Drucilla to her knees, driving his thick angry cock into her gaping hole. Wyatt stormed Drucilla's pussy mercilessly as she groaned with pleasure. Meanwhile, Arabella positioned herself so that Drucilla could lap her pussy. As Drucilla licked, Arabella's wetness flowed. With no maidenhead to stem its flow, the wetness quickly watered the tree once more. The tree stirred as Drucilla licked and fingered her enemy. As Wyatt neared his climax, he fucked Drucilla ferociously until he erupted with a shout. Burying himself balls deep in Drucilla's cunt, Wyatt unleashed a torrent of punishing cum that battered her pussy with each hot squirt. Wailing, Drucilla bucked and writhed in exquisite pleasure under Wyatt's exertions as his cum welled out of her, splattering the leaves beneath them. It was then that Arabella came too, with a mighty gush that was sufficient to crack the tree open once more. Arabella jumped to her feet and with Wyatt's help, she swiftly pushed the evil Drucilla towards the open tree trunk. Realizing she had been tricked, Drucilla put up a valiant fight, fueled by jealousy and unquenched desire. She wanted her release and she most certainly did not want to be trapped inside the tree, horny forever. However, after a grand struggle, the young lovers managed to keep Drucilla in the bowels of the oak long enough for the tree to swallow her up. Horny, evil Drucilla, was never to be seen again. Elated, the Arabella and Wyatt embraced and made their way back to the castle and they lived happily ever after. The end. Arabelle's Library Break Arabelle was an exchange student from France. When she first heard about the study program, she seized the opportunity to come to America. Here at Chesterton College, she experienced many new things. Although at first, Arabelle was a little shy and a little homesick, she spent lots of time in the school's library to forget about it. She loved the library. She found it exciting reading upon the hundreds of thousands of books. During the Christmas break, Arabelle didn't go home for the holidays, she stayed on campus. She figured she would do lots more reading in her most comforting place. One day while she was walking amidst the shelves, she came to a section of the library in the far right hand corner. There was no category placard or anything. She picked up the first book she saw and the title was "Hidden Desires." As she opened the book, the first page ensnared her. "The first time I experienced self-pleasure was when I was alone in my house getting ready for my shower. I studied my naked reflection in the mirror. I had always known I had a sexy body. I had full tits with large brown nipples, a skinny waist, full, fleshly hips, a nice round ass, and my pussy was always clean-shaven and soft. I let my hands examine myself. Pulling my hair above my head, I let my hand trace down my neck and down onto my breasts. I teased my nipple until it was rock-hard. I let out a small moan of pleasure, as waves surged from where my hand was, curling down between my legs. My hand then went down touching my belly and fell between my legs where moisture began to pool. I shivered as I turned on the water and got into the shower..." Arabelle was captured. She knew these things were taboo to speak about. It's not like she never had sex before. She did have a boyfriend back home. She got up and put the book back in its place. She noticed that her panties were damp. "I must have really been turned on." She went further down the shelf and grabbed another book to see if all these books were the same as the first. The next one was titled, "Naughty Girls." She opened again to the first page. "You've been a naughty girl Kara. I must punish you for what you've done. Get on your hands and knees you slut! Kara obeyed Master Chellie. She got on her hands and knees. Master Chellie went round to Kara's ass. She spanked her firm ass with her hands. Kara let out a moan,"ohhh! Please Master!" "Oh, that's right you filthy slut, you like it when I spank your ass? That's right," as Master Chellie spanked her again and again until Kara's ass was red and swollen. "Oh Master, please punish me some more!," begged Kara. Then Master Chellie demanded Kara to stand, and she obeyed. Master Chellie told Kara to stand with her hands behind her back and her legs spread apart. Master Chellie then bound Kara's hands behind her back and told Kara if she moved her legs, she would whip her. Then Master Chellie touched Kara's lovely breasts roughly and pulled on her nipples until they were standing at attention. Master Chellie then began to play with Kara's pink pussy. She slowly licked her clit, stroking in firm circles. Master Chellie slid two fingers into Kara's slit as her tongue continued to work her clit. Kara moaned with pleasure. "Ohhh, Master, oh, yes please punish me...I am sooooo naughty! Ohhhh, I'm cumming! Oh, ohhh," as Kara climaxed, her juices filling Master Chellie's mouth and running down her face. Arabelle gasped as she shut the book. Her breathing was heavy and she looked around to see if anyone was around. The library was quiet, since it was break. No one was around to see what Arabelle was reading. Arabelle had noticed that her body was responding to what she read. Her nipples were hard peaks and her pussy was slick with juices. She quickly looked around again and made sure no one was around and slid her hand up her shirt. Arabelle had never experienced self-pleasure the way the book described it. She knew she had a beautiful body. She had 38C tits, the perfect hourglass shape body, a luscious ass, and long shapely legs. She had always shaved her pussy ever since she started growing pubic hair. She massaged her tits with one hand as the other went down to explore her pussy. "It was a good thing I wore a skirt today," thought Arabelle. She never felt this way before. A slow moan escaped her lips, as she felt her slit all slick with her pussy juice. She felt her little nub and she gasped as the pleasure swept through her body. She inserted a finger into her tight hole and started to rock against her hand. Her pussy kept getting juicier and her breathing was getting heavier and then she inserted another finger into her pussy and her thumb was massaging her clit sending waves of pleasure through her body. Arabelle quickly looked around again, and saw no one so she continued. She knew she was close to orgasm. A few more minutes and she would explode. She felt her orgasm so close to her and she furiously pounded her pussy with her fingers and pulled on her tits until she screamed as her orgasm swept through her body. Her juices exploded out of her body and her pussy tightened around her fingers as she came. After her orgasm, she just sat there as little shocks of pleasure went through her body. She lifted her fingers to her mouth and slurped off the juices. Arabelle looked at her watch and figured it was time to eat. She stood up and grabbed the first book off the shelve that she looked at and the other one, shoved them into her bag and headed off for dinner. "This is going to be a great year here at Chesterton College," as a smile crept up to her face and she headed for her car. Arabelle's Toy As Arabelle lay on her bed the next day after her library session, she closed her eyes. She loved how her body quivered as she came and she loved feeling her own body. Arabelle would never have gotten to experience these things back home because of the strict school she went to. Arabelle let her mind wander a bit and she started to think, she could actually buy a dildo now that she didn't have to order one through the internet. There was a porn shop just 30 miles from campus. She hopped off the bed and got her shoes on. She all but ran down to her car and started driving. Her pussy was throbbing just thinking about all the fun she would have. As Arabelle pulled into the shop's parking lot, she looked around before she parked the car and got out. The lot was pretty desolate except for a few cars, which she figured had to be the people that were working. Even though the majority of the students left campus, she wanted to be sure that she was not seen. She stepped out of the car into the chilly winter air, breathed deep and went into the shop. There were bells on the door letting someone know she entered. An employee greeted Arabelle and asked if they could be any help and she politely declined, saying she was just looking around. She wandered over to where the vibrators were and browsed through them with eagerness. She then moved on to the bigger more expensive dildos were. Her tummy was doing flip-flops with excitement and her nipples had stiffened into hard peaks. She looked at the different dildos with determination. Arabelle knew what she wanted and she wasn't going to just buy any dildo. As Arabelle kept looking at the different dildos, she finally found the one she had dreamt of. It was a 7" rotating dildo made of jelly stuff and it had a clit attachment that vibrated for extra pleasure. By the time Arabelle bought the dildo and batteries, and got into her car ready for the drive back to campus, her pussy was sopping. She could hardly wait to try it out. Arabelle's breathing got faster as she made her way to her dorm room. She quickly entered and undressed. She lay on the bed and opened her new toy. She put in the batteries and started to play. She first started by touching the tip of the dildo to her clit and then sliding down her already wet slit. She turned on the rotating part of it and slowly pushed it into her pussy. The tip rotated and Arabelle gasped as she relished the new sensations of her new toy. She slid the dildo into her pussy further and started moving her hips in rhythm with her hand. She then turned on the vibrating clit attachment and shoved the dildo fully into her sopping love hole. A loud groan escaped from Arabelle's lips as she fucked her new toy. Her clit was hard and she was on the verge of orgasm. She slowed her pace to control her climax. She pulled the dildo out of her pussy until the tip was just barely touching her outer lips and then thrust it back into her pulsing pussy. She kept this up until she was ready to cum again. When she was almost on the verge of climaxing, Arabelle changed rhythms, she fucked her pussy faster and harder as her juices slid down her thighs. Arabelle bucked her hips as she came. Her screams echoed into the room, bouncing off the walls as they murmured her pleasures. When Arabelle was finished, she cleaned up her dildo and put it down. She then pulled out the book she had gotten from the library entitled "Hidden Desires." She turned to the second story. "From the time I was 16, I was always a sexual being. Whether it was masturbating or with my boyfriends, I loved getting off. I had always had this fantasy though about being with a woman. I never indulged it because being a lesbian was not a cool thing and people were not okay with it. But when I got into college, I made some friends and they were lesbians, but I still never let my fantasies out of my mouth. I have to admit though, my sophomore year is when I really got curious. I had this really pretty Literature professor and I sometimes caught myself fantasizing about her in class. I would be concentrating on what she was saying or whatever and then my thoughts would wander off to what her tits looked like unclothed or what her ass looked like under her skirts. My pussy would become wet and my nipples would become painfully erect. I excused myself and went to relieve myself in the bathroom. I was so incredibly turned on that I didn't even check to see if the stalls were empty. I went into the first stall and slid my thong off and inserted my index and middle fingers into my dripping wet pussy." Arabelle was getting horny again and started to play with herself. She began stroking her clit in light motions and then moved on to slide two fingers into her pussy. She began lubricating herself with her juices starting from the top by her clit and going on all the way to the bottom of her pussy by her anus. Then she began a rhythmic motion fingering herself. With her free hand she picked up the book and kept reading. "As I was finger fucking my pussy, I heard the bathroom door open. I quieted my heavy breathing and slowed my fingers. I watched carefully as the legs passed my stall and went two stalls down from me. I heard her peeing, get some toilet paper and flush the toilet. She then proceeded to wash her hands and then leave. All the while, I'm still fingering my wet hole. I was so ready to burst when she left, that as soon as I heard the door close, I slid another finger into my pussy and fingered myself furiously for all of 30 seconds before I came. A scream escaped my lips as my pussy hole tightened pleasurably around my fingers when I came. When I was finished I mopped up my pussy juice with some toilet paper and put my thong back on. I then washed my hands and slipped quietly back into the lecture room and looked around to make sure no one had seen me leave or come back into the room. Sure enough no had. A few students were sleeping and some were actually listening to Professor Johnson." Arabelle's hand was getting tired, so she pulled her fingers out of her wet pussy, licked them clean and continued on with the book. "When the bell rang, the Professor asked if she could see me for a few minutes after class. I was sure I was caught. My heart pounded and my pulse raced. "You wanted to see me, Professor?" "Yes, Ami. I noticed that your grades are slipping and that you have been absent a number of days now. Is there anything going on that I should know about?" "Uh, ummm...nothing really," I stammered. "I haven't been sleeping well lately. I've just had some ah, personal things on my mind I guess." Professor stared at me for a moment and then laid her hands on her desk. "I think I may have a solution for you Ami. Let me help you," she glanced at her clock on the wall and looked back at me. "I don't have another class for two hours and I know you don't have another class until 5:30, so now would be an excellent time for us both." "Okay," I said slowly. "But what did you have in mind?" "You just let me worry about that," she said with a sly grin. My nerves just went up a notch. I wondered what she was going to do to help me. What if she knows about my visits to the bathroom? "Come over here," she said as she motioned me to sit on the loveseat she had in the office. I went over and sat next to her. She then started to massage my neck and shoulders and I relaxed against her touch. I could use a massage I thought to myself. Then she moved down my back and to the top of my ass. "Why don't you lie down and I can get your back better," she suggested and I followed her suggestion. Her hands moved along my back so gentle, but firm. I could feel all the tension running out of my body. Then, I felt her hands touch my ass again, and I tightened up. "Relax your muscles, Ami, this is all part of a body massage." I did as she said and then she moved down my ass and down to my thighs. I have to admit, feeling her hands touch me made me so horny. I had always fantasized about this. Now my fantasies were coming true. She moved back up to my ass and was kneading my cheeks with both hands. All the while, my pussy was starting to get wet and my nipples were starting to harden. "Does that feel good Ami? Do you like it when I rub on your ass? I know you do," Professor Johnson said in a husky voice. "I see the way you look at me Ami. I see the passion in your eyes. I know when you leave the classroom in the middle of my lectures, that you go finger your little love hole." I sat up and faced her with terror in my eyes. "You're not going to tell are you?" "No, Ami, I'm not going to tell. On one condition that is." "I'll do anything Professor. Anything that you want," I pleaded. "Good. Now take off your clothes. All of them. I want to see your naked body," she replied. I did as she asked. I took off my shirt and then my skirt. I unhooked my bra and let my tits fall free. Then I stepped out of my thong and tossed it aside. "Turn around Ami. Let me see your body." I turned slowly so that the Professor could see my body. I ran my hands down over my breasts and over my tummy. "Come sit by me," she motioned with her hand. I walked over her and sat down next to her. She wrapped her arms around me kissed me. First softly, and then more urgently pushing her tongue all around my mouth. I responded moaning softly as all of my hidden fantasies about being with a woman spilled out. Her hands went to my breasts and fondled them playing with the nipple on the left on first and then moving to the right one when my nipples were hard peaks. She moved on to my belly and kept moving downward towards my dripping pussy. She found my hard nub and stroked it until I almost came. Her mouth had attached to my tits and her tongue was flicking my nipple. "ohhh, yes, yes, yes...please Professor, give me more...oh yeah," I squirmed on the couch. The Professor slid two fingers into my lubricated pussy and began slowly fingering my hole. I kept moaning and moving in rhythm to the professor's hands. The professor moved from my breasts to my clit and concentrated on that. She slid another finger into my pussy and began pounding her hand and worked her tongue over the nub in her mouth until I exploded with pleasure. My juices burst from my pussy and all over the couch and the professor's hands and mouth. I screamed and pounded my fists as the orgasm swept through my body. The professor licked her hands and said to me, "Get your clothes on, I have a class in 10 minutes. I hope this lesson has proved to be useful. Your grades better be up or I'll have to have another lesson with you." I quickly got dressed and exited her office. That was so incredibly amazing. I have never felt anything like that before. I was hoping that I would have more private lessons with her. And the next day I did. And they continued all throughout the semester. Lo and behold I got an A in Literature." Arabelle put the book down feeling so horny. Her pussy was already wet and throbbing. Her nipples were hard and painfully erect. She slid her hand down and started playing with her clit. She stroked it until it was a hard little nub and then slid two fingers into her sopping hole. She fingered herself until she almost climaxed and then grabbed her dildo. She rubbed it in her pussy juice along her slit and then rubbed it on her hard tits feeling shock waves of pleasure. Arabelle then gets on her hands and knees. She dips the dildo in her juices again getting it all lubricated and turns it on. She switches the speed to high and fucks her self faster and harder. She's so close to cumming. She lays on her chest and face and raises her ass into the air. Her pussy muscles contract around the fake cock and she lets out a scream and rams the cock deeper into her love hole as her juices gush out from her pussy and down her thighs as her orgasm rips through her body. Arabelle cleans off the dildo and sets it aside. She sighs contentedly and looks at the clock. It's only 7:00. She books up the other book entitled, "Naughty Girls," .....it's going to be a long night.