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When she boarded the train in Denver, if she was frugal, she'd have enough money to make it to Philadelphia.

The following morning, a man approached her while she enjoyed the scenery as the train chugged east. "Excuse me Miss, but do you know a Mrs. Trowbridge in Denver?"

"Who's asking?"

"I'm Wilhelm Zimmerman from St. Louis." He pronounced it Vil-helm.

"Well Mr. Zimmerman, I've met Mrs. Trowbridge."

"Isn't your name Addie, and weren't you Mrs. Trowbridge's flute player?"

"Mr. Zimmerman, please. I wish you'd leave."

"Miss Addie, you do realize we're on a train going almost thirty miles per hour."

"Well, then leave me alone before I call a porter to have you removed from this car."

"I have a business proposition for you."

"Mr. Zimmerman, please, I'm not in that business anymore."

"No, no, you misunderstand me, Miss Addie. I need someone to be the Mrs. Trowbridge of a house I have in St. Louis."

"I'm not going to St. Louis. I'm going to Philadelphia."

"What are you going to do in Philadelphia?"

"My family is there. I know what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to do what I did for Mrs. Trowbridge."

"Addie, a woman who does what Mrs. Trowbridge does can accumulate thousands of dollars very quickly."

"You mean I wouldn't have to . . ."

"No. Like Mrs. Trowbridge, men would pay you and you'd give the girls a percentage. My house has twenty girls working and they're busy every night."

Addie looked at Mr. Zimmerman. He appeared to be over sixty. Balding, greying, but looked trim and very well dressed. "Mr. Zimmerman, my ticket is to Omaha and then I transfer to Chicago and then on to Philadelphia."

"If you'd like, in Omaha I can have your ticket from Omaha changed to St. Louis. I'm sure you'll get a substantial refund."

Mr. Zimmerman, let's make one thing clear. I will not play the flute for anyone including you. EVER!!!!"

"I understand. Addie, I'm looking for someone to manage my house. In St. Louis, one of the benefits of owning the house is the girls are available to me whenever I choose, and I have two flute players. I need a manager, not a whore."

"Mr. Zimmerman, one more thing. You will not use such language in front of me, and I am not Addie, I am Mrs. Ferguson. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Ferguson."

Mr. Zimmerman arranged for a new ticket to St. Louis in Omaha and as he promised, gave her the refund from her ticket to Philadelphia. Mr. Zimmerman also didn't bother her while they were on the train. By bother, I mean suggest she play his flute.

They talked business. "The men pay twelve dollars; it's fifteen if they want one of the flute players. The girls get half of the first six rides. You and I split the rest."

"You mean I get three dollars for every man who walks through the door?"

"Exactly, but that's not all. After the sixth ride, a girl gets eight and you and I split the rest. Plus, one room is a saloon, open to only men who've come for the girls. A man can quench his thirst while he's waiting. A drink cost a quarter. You get a nickel for every drink we sell."

"That seems very generous, Mr. Zimmerman."

"Please Miss Ferguson, call me Willie. Of course, there are very nice accommodations for you on the second floor. If they're not to your liking, we can arrange something else."

In St. Louis, Addie found that Willie was a man of his word. Her apartment was beautiful far more beautiful than any place she'd ever lived. "Last month, if I had a manager, she would have made eight hundred dollars. Here's an advance on this month." He handed her four hundred dollars.

"Now, let me introduce you to some of the girls." Eight or nine girls gathered in the parlor; the same parlor where they showed off some, but not all of their assets to men. The others were busy. The house was almost always busy. At any given time during the day five or six girls were working.

They had little use for a manager. They thought a manager was unnecessary and cost them money. They were wrong and over time many of them learned that a manager promoted the house, offered them protection and made sure they were fairly compensated.

They didn't have much use for Addie personally, but they did appreciate that she was a woman. Most had worked for male managers who insisted on their availability for his personal pleasure. Some demanded they have their flute played even if the girl wasn't a flute player.

Within a few weeks, Addie earned their respect. Addie impressed upon Willie in front of the girls the need to make sure that the girls were never cheated out of their money, and that the men never did anything to harm them. "One more thing, Mr. Zimmerman, you make a lot of money in this house, the least you can do is be generous when you ride them or Daisy plays your flute. No more free rides." The girls clapped, cheered and nodded their heads in appreciation.

Then there were rumors. One day three girls, including Daisy, one of the flute players, confronted her. "Miss Ferguson, we heard that you worked in a house in Denver. Is that true?"

"Ladies, my personal life doesn't concern you. What should concern you and me, is how can we make more money."

"Your personal life does matter to us," said Matilda, "it'd be nice to know that the madam of the house, knows what it's like to have men drool on top of you six or seven times a night."

Daisy added, "or have their dirty cocks in your mouth. You know some of those men haven't bathed in a month."

"We heard that in Denver you were a very accomplished flute player. Is that true?" Henrietta asked.

Addie blushed. Her face was so red, she didn't have to give them an answer, but she did. "Yes, I worked in Denver, and yes, I was a flute player, but Daisy, I've seen you on your knees. I was never as accomplished as you." Addie meant it as an insult, but Daisy took it as a compliment from another flute player. In the coming days she asked for more money.

Of course, Daisy, Matilda and Henrietta passed this information on to the other girls in the house. It may have been a coincidence but from that week on, the house made more money. It was as if the girls worked harder; took on an extra client. Fucked or sucked better.

And the men were more generous. By that I mean, in addition to what they paid at the door, they left them a little extra on their bed when they were finished. The house and Addie made more money. So did Mr. Wilhelm Zimmerman. "One day he was reviewing the ledgers with Addie. "Miss Ferguson, I've never seen such glowing numbers. You've been a god-send. And Miss Ferguson, I'd like to get to know you better, on a more personal level."

"Mr. Zimmerman, from the day we first met, I made it clear that there'd be no more flute playing. If you want your flute played, I can arrange for Daisy to entertain you. If you want one of the other girls to spread their legs for you, you know I can make that happen, too. But it won't be me." She was almost yelling at him now, with a finger poking him in the face.

"Miss Ferguson when I said I'd like to know you on a more personal level, I meant I'd like to court you."

"You what? Mr. Zimmerman, you know what I was in Denver, and I know that you see one or two of my girls every month, I know what you are. Why would you ever want to court me, and why would I want to be seen with a man who spends a goodly amount of his time in the company of whores?"

"Because I know what you were and you know what I am; we're perfect for each other and no one else will have us. I couldn't possibly court any respectable woman in St. Louis, and no respectable gentleman would consider bringing you home to Sunday dinner to meet his mother, knowing what you were and are."

Addie knew he was right. Yes, the house was doing well, and every month she saw more money than she could imagine, but no gentleman called on her. "Mr. Zimmerman, if I were to allow you to court me, you would have to agree not to see any of the girls in this house or any other house in St. Louis or for that matter in the United States."

"Of course."

"And furthermore, you shouldn't expect me to get on my knees or on my back for you."

"Of course not. I'll always treat you like a lady."

For the next two months, two or three times a week, Addie and Wilhelm were seen together in public. Wilhelm, was a perfect gentleman, and it wasn't until late in their second month together that she gave him a kiss on the cheek when they said good night.

Addie, however, was curious. "Henrietta, when you were with Mr. Zimmerman what was he like?" It was no secret that Wilhelm Zimmerman owned the house.

"Miss Ferguson, I could never share that information. It wouldn't be right."

"Why not? I've seen you with other men. You know I've even seen you on your back, and once or twice you looked like a dog in heat."

Henrietta blushed. "I know, but I just couldn't."

A few days later, "Matilda, tell me when you were with Mr. Zimmerman, what was he like?"

"Oh, Miss Ferguson, I just couldn't. That's between Mr. Zimmerman and me. I know that sometimes you look in our rooms to make sure the boys aren't getting too rowdy, but Mr. Zimmerman insists I lock the door."

"I noticed that. What did he do to you and you to him? You sure were noisy." Matilda was a big woman, with massive breasts and thighs. She wasn't the most attractive girl, but when men left, they had a smile on their faces and were worn out. Matilda gave every man the ride of his life. She never worried about repeat business. "I hope Matilda is working tonight," was commonly heard.

Addie asked Matilda two or three times what Wilhelm had been like. The answer was always the same. However, one day without prompting, Matilda said to Addie. "Come with me." She led the madam to her room and locked the door behind them. "I just can't keep it in any longer. I'm so embarrassed."

"What is it?"

Matilda was blushing. "It's about Mr. Zimmerman. Miss Ferguson, we've been together more than a few times but he's never fucked me and you know I'm not like Daisy. I'd never stoop to playing the flute for Mr. Zimmerman or any man. I love Daisy like a sister, but I find what she does disgusting."

"Oh?"

Matilda's face could not have been any redder. It's as if she'd given some customer the ride of his and her life. "Ma'am, all he wants to do is . . . oh, Miss Ferguson, I can barely say it." She blurted it out. "Miss Ferguson, he just wants to stick his tongue in my pussy."

"Oh my." Addie pretended, "I've never heard of such a thing in a house like this. Is that all?"

"Yes ma'am. He barely plays with my titties and you know all the boys love them. All the girls say the same thing about Mr. Zimmerman, even Daisy. He won't let her play his flute. Like you I'd never heard of such a thing. Some of the older girls call him a pussy eater. They say they're rarer than snow in July."

"Matilda, I have one more question for you. Does it feel good?"

If Marilda could have gotten any redder, she might have burst into flame. "Ma'am, it's the most marvelous thing. I've worked here over two years, none of the men I've fucked make me feel like Mr. Zimmerman make me feel."

"Thank you, Matilda. I promise, no one will know what you told me. Pussy eater, huh?"

The next time Wilhelm called on her, Addie invited him to her quarters. "Mr. Zimmerman, you've been nothing but a gentleman. I'd say it's about time that we became better acquainted."

"Are you sure, Miss Ferguson?"

"I'm sure, and in here, please call me Addie." She put her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. "Please Wilhelm, don't be a gentleman tonight." She started to undress for him.

He didn't. He sat on her bed and watched. "Oh, come now, Wilhelm, join me."

"Miss Ferguson, Addie, I'd like to see all of you before I join you. Lovely. My Addie, they're lovely and not just for a woman your age," Wilhelm said as Addie lowered the top of her dress."

"Wilhelm, tonight, they're all yours." It had been almost six months since Addie and Hortie left Denver, but Addie had not forgotten how to entertain a man. She hiked up her dress, straddled him and offered her huge tits to Wilhelm's face.

Wilhelm, although he'd prefer to have his face between Addie's legs, wasn't stupid. Yes, his hands, his mouth, his lips and tongue found her tits. "Marvelous, Addie, they're marvelous."

She hugged his head to her breasts. In Denver, she had been a flute player, but men did enjoy her titties and she had to admit, some of them made them feel good. Now, she willingly, without any money changing hands, allowed Wilhelm to kiss, lick and suck them.

It felt so good to have a man in her arms again. "Here Wilhelm, do the other one." She guided a nipple to his mouth."

Addie let Wilhelm play, and she giggled when he rubbed his face between her breasts. Straddling him, she felt his hard cock. Yes, playing with her titties excited him. Then, "Wilhelm, I suspect a man like yourself wants more than just these."

She dismounted and removed the rest of her dress and her undergarments.

Wilhelm was shocked. He'd never seen such a thing. If you recall Addie was hairless and had been since before the war when her husband suggested it.

This very morning, she'd taken a long hot bath and made sure that her pussy was as smooth as her breasts. She smiled, hoping that Wilhelm would find her pussy intriguing; as intriguing as the Mayor of Denver had.

"Wilhelm, it's all yours." She got on the bed next to him and spread her legs.

All his adult life, Wilhelm had enjoyed the taste of pussy. Not that he hadn't fucked it and had his flute played. It was just that in this house; a house he owned, all that young pussy running around was irresistible.

And they were young. Matilda and Henrietta weren't yet twenty and Daisy, the flute player just turned twenty-one. Their young and tasty pussies were his whenever he had the desire. Now, he was faced with Addie's forty-year-old pussy; hairless pussy. Something he'd never seen before.

Wilhelm Zimmerman was intrigued. More than intrigued; he was eager to taste it. "Addie, before I get undressed and make love to you, I'm curious as to what a woman looks like. May I?"

He spread her legs wider and Addie opened her pussy lips for him. "Wilhelm, my pussy is all yours to do with what you want. Wilhelm, I'm freely giving myself to you."

He thought her pussy was beautiful; as beautiful as any of those twenty-year-olds. "Addie, you're so beautiful."

She knew he was talking about her pussy. Miners in Denver had told her she was beautiful but that was when she had their cock in her mouth, vigorously playing their flute. Now, she just had her legs spread. After what Matilda told her, Addie was anxiously awaiting his tongue.

She didn't have to wait too long. "Addie, your pussy is so lovely. Please, may I kiss it?"

To herself, Addie smiled. Aloud: "Wilhelm, I told you it's all yours. This is something new, but for you I'm willing to let you try," she lied.

The next hour was the best she could remember. Wilhelm Zimmerman was, as Matilda and other girls could attest, an avid pussy eater. It's not just that he liked to eat pussy; he loved to eat pussy.

Wilhelm loved the smell, the taste, the reaction of a woman when his tongue found that special spot. And now, the look. He was mesmerized by her bare pussy. For a while, his tongue just licked Addie's slit.

Addie didn't miss playing the flute in that brothel in Denver. She did, however, miss the Mayor's tongue. Now, she was finding that Wilhelm was just as skilled. "Addie, your pussy tastes so good," he mumbled.

"Keep eating my pussy, Wilhelm. I love what your tongue does to me." She was hoping he knew where she really wanted his tongue. A spot that the Mayor of Denver made sure he found time and time again when they were together.

Wilhelm proved insatiable as he licked and licked. "Wilhelm, you're so good to me. You're so good to my pussy."

It was then that Wilhelm's tongue found her clitoris. He didn't have to search for it; he knew exactly where it was. He didn't go right to it for fear of scaring Addie away. "Ooooooh, ooooh, ooooooh, Wilhelm, oooooooh, ooooooh, oooooooooh, just like that. Just like that. Oooooooh my pussy, my pussy. Keep licking my pussy just like that."

Wilhelm wasn't about to stop. He didn't know what it was called but he'd heard women scream with pleasure, beg for more, beg for his tongue, beg him to do anything he wanted, just don't stop.

No, until Addie screamed with joy, he wasn't going to quit. When she did, "I've never tasted a woman so sweet." He kissed her all over: on both thighs, her fat outer lips.

For Addie, what Wilhelm did to her was so far superior to what Mayor Tompkins had done. She remembered that he'd used his tongue on twenty-year-olds like Matilda and Daisy, and some of the other girls, but now he was telling her that she had the tastiest pussy.

"Wilhelm, do me again."

He did and Addie had another orgasm. She didn't know the word, "oh, Wilhelm, yes, Wilhelm, it's happening again. It's happening again."

Time after time over the next few hours, Wilhelm's tongue made it happen. In between, he kissed her from her thighs to her bare fat lips. Sometimes crawling up and doing her titties with his pussy-juice covered face. "Miss Ferguson, your pussy is delightful."

She giggled. "Mr. Zimmerman, your tongue is beyond delightful. If you are going to court me like this, I will welcome you with open arms."

"And spread legs."

"Definitely spread legs," she laughed.

"I should go. If I stay too much longer, you and I will end up with a reputation we won't be able to shake," he joked.

"It's a little late for our reputations, but if you like you can sneak out the back door. Mr. Zimmerman, I trust you'll be discreet," she laughed.

"Oh, you can be assured of that. If the world were to find out how sweet your pussy is, I wouldn't have you all to myself."

"Wilhelm, I assure you that if you use your tongue like you did tonight, my pussy is yours and only yours."

TO BE CONTINUED

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