Thread: Tombstone Endures(tidal station ~ Daddeo)

Jacqueline Jean was a 19 year old red head with wild curls that typically earned her more work than the other girls at the saloon. She tied it together when she was sprawled out on a mattress, and she dressed in large black dresses in order to showcase her wide jawed cherub face. Her cheeks were naturally red, and her eyes were as seductive as the motion of her parted knees. Something odd about that night, the demand for whores was slow. So, when Mr. Murphy requested two women, he just so happened to have receive the two greatest cunts in Tombstone. No one had denied it, and the owner gave the girls a wink as he handed them two bottles of whiskey. The owner cared for new business, the man had ordered one thing, and he would receive well more than he paid for in many ways. He's had a long trip, some things ya can jes tell about a man. Mr. Collins had never seen him before, either. Handsome too, take good care of girls, Jack, Maris. Make sure he gets fed when he pleases as well. Will do sir, Marisella, Maris for short, she leaned over to kiss Mr. Collins as they exchanged the whiskey behind the bar. Some poker players and some devoted drinkers watched as the two skirts shifted themselves up the stairs behind the lone rider, and into his room. Maris wore bright colors, and her dresses were shorter, lighter, she looked more like a peasant than a royal. Jacqueline and Maris were like water and fire. Maris had one layer on underneath her corset. She wore mens boots instead of dress shoes. And she looked like a child in many ways. Her eyes were open and bright all the time. Hair was blindingly blonde, and there was an innocent illusion in her gaze that always made it look like she was over a thousand miles away. She was short, her breasts were small. By the time the two of them had gotten to the room, Maris was holding both of the whiskey bottles in her hand. They had expected to see a man toying with his weapon. It happened so often, men often play with their weapons before the fuck a whore. It was part of their job, they had a hundred different things to say to a man with a gun in his hand. So, walking in on Allen with a wet towel in his hand, oxygen filled their bodies in no time, and they were flustered in a matter of seconds. Their boss was right, he was a handsome man. The night was young. Maris went to the bedside table, and immediately ignited the extra lanterns to fill the room with light. She tended to the bar, and she stripped out of her clothing immediately. Jacqueline had closed the door. Her hands were free, clean, she smelled of cinnamon and black pepper. She caught the man in the mirror and wrapped her fingers around his right wrist gently. How was your trip sir, Mr. Collins said you came 'long way. Her accent wasn't as thick as the others, she hadn't grown up here. My names Jacqueline. That's Maris over there. Jacqueline's red cheeks grew even brighter as she looked over to see Maris' bare skin. The small framed whore had a girdle on that held her under garments in place. Her ass was sticking out under her slip. The mound of hair in the darkness between her legs poked outward as she poured out three shots of whiskey. It may not look it, but she's actually quite older than I am. Maris laughed without turning around, Jacqueline giggled seductively into Allen's ear. We're here to keep you company for a little while. Tell us, Stranger, where'd you come from, nahw? Her drawl was developing. As she finished asking her question, Maris turned around with three shots of whiskey in her capable fingers. Her slip covered her breasts, but they were easy to see under the weightless cotton sheet.