Trolley No. 1852

soft-footedly down the curved, plushly carpeted staircase. I’ve already intimated that my own natural impulses with regard to sexual attraction must be relatively inactive compared to most men; yet, the registration of this drove of encroaching sprites (all without a stitch on, mind you) caused an undeniable stirring, shall we say, southwardly of the belt. The well-brawned patronage was already dispersing as this bevy of long-legged, high-bosomed, and pertly nippled women came off the stairs.

Erwin, a smile so long it contorted his face, made to approach them but I clutched his sleeve in a sudden self-consciousness.

“Gads, Erwin! I’ve never been to a place like this before. What should I do?”

The question flabbergasted him. “Do? Come on! You pick a dish and go with her, man!” and then he walked briskly to the feminine congregation and its sea of wanton grins. I remained, standing nervously and watching couples pair off. The girls seemed to swoop upon the men with a hearty enthusiasm; but, lo, none “swooped” toward me. Never much of a ladies’ man, I expected as much; these younger and much more masculine specimens easily overshadowed my thin-limbed form. I would always tell myself that what manly attributes nature had left me lacking in was more than made up for in my superior intellectual capacity, but what a facile consolation that was now! In a whorehouse, with no whore showing the least bit of interest in me! Erwin was latched onto and led summarily up the stairs by a doe-eyed, plushly curved girl with a head full of shining black tousles. Good for you, I thought with some bitterness. Within the merest of minutes, the men were arm in arm with each of these delectable women whose bare bottoms I was left to peer forlornly at as they each in turn took their partners up the steps. I felt akin to the perfect ass, but just as it seemed that all the denuded girls had found their match, my arm was snatched by a short, voracious thing with beaming green eyes and nary an ounce of excess fat on her splendid little body. “I’ve got you now!” she exclaimed and quickly hauled me toward the stairs. “My name’s Ammi, but don’t bother telling me yours. In a place like this?” and she laughed.

The sight of her, and the feel of her hot hand about my wrist, left my tongue sufficiently tied. Instead, my eyes drunk up the vision of her gleaming white nudity; the compact buttocks flexing with each step up; the seductively trim waist and adorable bellybutton. Already my groin was tightening…

“Don’t talk much, I see,” she commented and now we were on the first landing where a statue of, I believe, Tycho Brahe, telescope in hand, seemed to cast an approving eye my way. “But we’re not much about talk here at the club—” Her hand slid up my arm. “We’re all about doing.”

Finally, my powers of speech were re-afforded to me. “You’re, uh, quite a delight, Ammi. I, um—”

Her hand brazenly cradled my rump as we stepped up to the second landing. “Oh, don’t be so nervous. I’m going to show you a great time!”

Patrons ahead of us disappeared behind various doors. Ammi took me sprightly along the carpeted hall, almost bounding with each step. She approached a door and simultaneously slid her hand across my groin, whereupon I came close to lifting off my heels.

She paused at the door, turning to me with a scolding grin. “Shame on you, sir. There’s no reason to do that, you know. Not here!”

It was only then, receiving my first frontal look at her, that I became apprised of the extent of Ammi’s diversity. To call her a “colourful” girl would be a howling understatement: her hair was a long silken coppery red while obsidian-black eyebrows adorned her forehead. The abundant hair of her pubic area, however, shined blond as sunlit wheat. Breasts the circumference of tangerines sat erect on her chest. Only after fathoming this full glance at her did I recollect her odd remark.

“Pardon me, but I don’t know what you mean. There’s no reason to do what?”

Her hand found my groin again, and played there ever intently. “This package, sir, can’t all be you,” she giggled. “Oh, I know how men sometimes stuff socks and whatnot in their briefs to make themselves look bigger to the ladies but—really!—in a brothel, sir, the truth is always out once the breeches are down.”

I stared in utter bewilderment. “Socks, did you say? Really, miss—I can’t imagine what—”

“Come on!” she exclaimed, opened the door, and pulled me in.

The door itself was a marvel: nine panels, and hung within a stunning embrasured frame that I knew at a glance to be pure Federal Period. The bed-chamber impressed me even more, as I’d always been one to revel in the designs of the past rather than those of tasteless modernity. “A genuine William and Mary poster bed!” I gasped. The black-oak bedstead was a work of carven art. A Chippendale half-table sat beside the splendid bed, while opposite stood a grand armoire that could only be a genuine Hepplewhite. My host’s delightful breasts bobbed as she closed the door, then strode toward me. She grabbed my hand and pulled, and said as if to a naughty toddler, “You’re a bad boy, sir. Ammi might have to punish you with a spanking for what you’ve done.”

She grabbed an exquisite steamed-wood chair about and plopped right down in it, positioning me to stand before her.

“I say, you’d be advised to treat that chair with care, miss,” I warned. “Unless I’m mistaken, it’s a genuine Adam. The canework alone is without peer.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” she sputtered and at once fumbled with my belt. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. If it’s all you in here, I’ll be a monkey’s aunt…”

I remained mystified by her coy complaint. A sudden modesty overwhelmed me when she unfastened my trousers, then hastily slid them down along with my briefs.

Ammi stared with a dropped jaw, stared right at my bared groin. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“What?” I asked, but my feet shifted a bit, from the cringing embarrassment of being so closely and privately examined. All I could think to utter was, “I, uh, I suppose it’s not as large as you’re use to,” and I chuckled nervously “But there’s little I can do about that.”

She gaped up with jade-green irises burning beneath the blacker-than-onyx eyebrows. “Not as large? This is the biggest prick I’ve ever seen…”

Her remark befogged me, for in her tone I detected not a trace of prevarication. “You, uh, you mean to say that my… member is more sizable than the average you’re accustomed to?”

She snapped in a course delight. “It’s the biggest cock I’ve ever had hanging in my face, and I can tell you, there’ve been quite a few!” and with that she began to stroke the drooping shaft of flesh with a lithe finger.

I chuckled. “You flatter me, Ammi, but I’m sure you’re being over-lenient in your assessment of my privates.”

She giggled another “Shut up!” and without reservation sucked the entirety of my flaccid penis into her mouth. The adroitness of her oral skill sent shivers through my being. (This, for me, was a pleasure long forgotten; my ex-wife had a knack for it, I will say, but her preference for penetration always won out. Many was the night I’d gaze at the ceiling contemplating Poe, Machen, and Blackwood whilst she hopped ludicrously up and down on me, enfrenzied akin to a mare in heat.) But as for this highly spirited and deliciously naked Ammi, erecting my manhood seemed to be her most steadfast desire. It didn’t take long before its girth actually stretched her lips. She nearly gagged sliding it out. “Jesus Christ, mister! It’s so big I can’t even get it all in my mouth!”

“I—I… don’t know what to say…”

She checked my hands, examining them, evidently, for traces of a wedding band. “So you’re not married?”

“Oh, no, not anymore.”

“Well, it’s an awful shame that some happy woman isn’t getting this stuck in her every night!”

I felt foolish presuming to converse whilst my nearly erect privates wobbled up and down, and that was not to mention the preposterous entails of our discourse. “I was married once but I’m afraid the halls of academe proved far more my forte than the pastures of domesticity and wedlock.”

She glared at me. “Shut up!” and then she yanked me to the bed and nearly threw me down on it. “Now… I’ve just got to know!”