Date: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 21:19:42 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: A Whorehouse Christmas

                      A WHOREHOUSE CHRISTMAS
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     My father had wanted to take me when I turned eighteen years of age in
August, but my mother strictly forbade it and managed to thwart his plans
to sneak me out of the house. But when Christmas came along, he'd had
months to plan it all out and all her entreaties and ultimatums came to
naught. So on Christmas Eve of the year 1892, my father and I dressed in
our best clothes and set out to make me a man, that is, he was taking me to
a house of wayward women to let one of them initiate me in the ways of a
man with a woman...in short, we were going to a high-class whorehouse for
me to lose my virginity once and for all. A woman's virginity is a blessing
and treasure to be guarded carefully, but a man's virginity is a curse and
to be cast off at the first opportunity. So why was my stomach fluttering
worse than the summer I'd learned to first ride a bicycle?
     The cab took us to a neighborhood that had been fashionable some
decades before, now the few remaining houses of the well-bred were
surrounded by larger, ugly businesses. It was to one of these few houses
that the cab driver pulled us up to and drew his horse to a halt and said,
"Here you go, governor!" to my father, in what I misdoubt was a fake
Cockney accent meant to impress us gullible New Yorkers.
     I looked at the house while my father settled the bill, my stomach
churning worse than ever. I didn't want to walk into this house and
promptly ask to use the facilities, but at this rate, I would have little
choice!
     The house was a beautifully kept structure, the small yard now covered
with a light fall of snow, but still bearing hedges and bushes on either
side of a stone walk that led to the oak door over which hung a light that
was definitely not red. This was where I was to make love to a woman for
the first time? I felt dirty, worse, I felt disreputable and unwashed and
ashamed.
     "Now, Son, come on, let's get in out of this cold." my father said
heartily. "Plenty of warmth waiting in there, huh, boy?" and my father
laughed and slapped me on the back so hard I nearly fell to my face on the
sidewalk.
     I followed him like a prisoner follows the warden to his
execution. "Father, I...." I started when we reached the door.
     "What is it, Son?" my father looked at me.
     "Nothing." I said miserably. I was filled with doubts, riddled by
guilt and uncertainty. None of this comported with the lessons I'd learned
in school, or at church. My father sat in the same pew as I did every
Sunday, how could he smile and nod so amiably there every week and yet
stand here, on this stoop between the old, worn stone lions on either side,
and laugh about taking a woman other than his wife (my mother!) in his
arms. There was so much I didn't yet know about being a man! I'd always
been the most dutiful of sons, quietly obedient to my mother's wishes and
now, now I was to lay with a woman and make love to her. I knew what to do
(my grandfather had sat me down one afternoon and told me all I needed to
know on that point, and more than I was certain I still remembered).
     My father lifted the heavy, ornate knocker and let it fall, then again
and again, each time it made a single, dull thudding-iron sound.
     There was the crinkling noise of more than one lock being unfastened,
and then the door opened, and a quite sedate matron stood in the
doorway. "Hello, gentlemen, and welcome!" she said in lieu of asking our
names. "Come on in. Bella, come take these men's cloaks."
     A colored woman (Bella) took our coats and I felt naked with the
removal of this single garment, but the entire house was well-warmed,
warmer than my own home. The matronly figure led us into a room that was
undoubtedly the parlor. "Take a seat, gentlemen." she said. "May I offer
you a drink?" We sat where indicated on a couch, before us were a pair of
doors on either side of a barren piece of wall. I felt it would have been
better had a small table held that place, it was some eight feet wide.
     "Later." my father said easily. "Madeline, this is my son Andrew. He's
just turned eighteen a few months ago. I brought him in to get better
acquainted in the better parts of being a grown man."
     Madeleine smiled. "And you've come to the right place for that."
     "So which of your girls would be best to take a young boy through his
first experience best?" my father asked.
     Madeleine considered this with a look I actually recognized. I'd seen
it on our waiter at a French restaurant when my father had asked which wine
he felt would be best with our dinner. "I think you'll want Emily for
that. Emily!" she called out.
     Out came a woman nearly twice my age, but still very, very
fine-looking and grand. "You'll remember Emily, Mr. Mountbatten, you
visited with her several months ago. She's not too young as to not know
things herself, but not so old as to make him feel he's bedding his own
mother or something."
     I had to agree, Emily was in her late thirties, and didn't look at all
like my mother.
     "What do you think of her, Son?" my father asked me.
     I was surprised. "I get a choice?"
     All three of them thought my question was foolish and they
laughed. "Of course you can choose." my father told me. "Whoever you
choose, will be yours for the entire night. You'll breakfast here, but I'll
come get you in time to go to church with us Christmas Day as usual. So if
this one doesn't suit you, tell me how and why and we'll find one that
does."
     I looked over at Emily and she struck a slightly different pose, more
aggressive and yet still womanly. Like a woman who has seen a man she
favors and wants to approach her. "How about it, young man? Fancy a go with
me?"
     I could only nod dumbly.
     "Wonderful." Madeleine said to my father. "Emily, take him to the gold
room. Only the best for the son of Mr. Mountbatten. It's his first time, so
be careful, and be thorough. Teach him everything he needs."
     "He'll be safe in my arms." Emily replied and held out a gloved hand
to me. I rose and took it, like a maiden accepting a dance from a
gentleman, and in this turnabout of roles, I followed her out the second
door. As we did, I realized that this was why that section of wall was
blank and unadorned even by wallpaper, it was a backdrop for the men to
view the women and select them.
     The second door led to a short hallway that ended with a set of steps
that led upstairs. "Come along, dove." Emily cooed to me. "We'll want to
get right down to it, I imagine."
     As we made it upstairs, I heard through the walls, the unmistakable
sounds of lovemaking. I'd only heard it before by my older friends
discussing it (the remainder of my education to date), the sounds they'd
made imitating themselves in the throes of passion with some loose woman or
other, and the realization that this was not an imitation, but the actual
act, for the sounds were male and female, and came from more than one room,
and I stopped dead in my tracks.
     "What's the matter, love?" Emily queried. "Come along, the golden room
is waiting for us. I'll show you a wonderful time, you'll see."
     I opened my mouth and the word that came out was "No."
     Emily's face at first held anger and annoyance, but the look quickly
vanished. "Have you changed your mind on me, then? Shall I ask Madame to
find you another?" When I didn't answer at once, she went on, "It's all
right, love. We're always quite busy on Christmas Eve, what with all the
travelers away from home and feeling lonesome. All we have to do is go back
downstairs and...."
     "No." I said again. "I...I don't want to do this! Not like this!" I
said, my words forming themselves. The back of my brain was in charge, but
it knew what it wanted and was talking for me. "Look, you're a very
beautiful woman and I'm sure you're very good at what you do, but I don't
want this, I just...don't want this." And my back of the brain silenced
itself again. It was refusing the opportunity any young man should be
giving his left arm for!
     "Ah, a good and honorable man, is what you are!" was the kindly turn
Emily put on it. "Well, you stay right here, don't talk to anyone, and I'll
be back with Madame in just a minute."
     And she left me alone but was indeed back in no time with Madeleine. I
repeated my determination to the two of them, and Madeleine also treated
this as no large crisis. "Go back to the waiting room, Emily." she told her
and then to me, "We'll keep you here until morning, and I'll give your
father back the fee for Emily. Just your room and board for the night. You
can tell him for yourself whatever you like, I won't say a word about it
either way."
     "Thank you!" I said, grateful from the bottom of my heart. "You're
being very kind, I expected all kinds of trouble for turning down Emily."
     "No trouble at all, our aim is to please our customers, and when you
are ready, we'll still be here."
     "Thank you."
     "My only problem is that this is a very busy time of year for us, and
I need the golden room for my customers. Let me think this through." Again
she got the look of that French waiter. "We can put you in with Edward. If
we need him, you may be awakened in the night, but otherwise, you can sleep
there undisturbed until morning."
     "That will be fine." I agreed, relieved beyond measure.
     Bella was summoned and I was taken back downstairs and towards the
back of the house. This was the quarters for the women, I realized, where
they slept when they had no customers. Smaller, but clean and neat, much
the sort of place a kindly master would keep the staff of his manor
house. Edward's room was one of these.
     The door was opened and a figure stirred on the single bed, reached a
long strong arm out to turn up a gaslight, and I saw a strong bull of a man
sitting upright, rubbing his eyes as the door opened. "Someone for me,
Bella?" He asked.
     Edward was a man of the racial mix known as a "quadroon," that is, a
man who was three-quarters white and one-quarter black. The mixture gave
him a dark, exotic but aggressively masculine flavor. His face was a dusky
pale brown rather than the "white" tone of myself and my father, his face
was quite Caucasian and regular in features, his hair was tightly curled
but not the kinked curl of a colored man, and his eyes were deep, deep
brown. His chest held a luxurious coat of taut curls of hair, making a
myriad of circles upon and between his breasts, and extending from his
lower neck all the way down to where they vanished under the bedcovers.
     "Only a bedmate." Bella said. "Young man here for his first time who
wasn't ready after all. Madame said he was to bunk with you tonight."
     Edward took this in stride and simply scooted over in the bed, which
still left only a minor portion of it for me, and tossed back the
covers. "Come on in."
     Bella closed the door and I made a furtive move toward the bed as I
was. "No, no, get out of those clothes." Edward grunted. "If you're staying
the night, you'll have to wear them again tomorrow, don't want to get your
night sweats all over them."
     He was right of course, so I began to undress carefully. Edward never
stirred from his sitting position on the bed as I did, and when I hesitated
at my underclothes, he said, "Come on, all of them. You were going to get
naked with one of the ladies, you might as well get naked with me. I've
seen more naked men than you'll ever meet in your life, you have no
mysteries for me."
     I had to laugh at that, I was liking this strange man upon this brief
acquaintance. "And how have you been seeing all these naked men?" I asked
him semi-playfully. "Are you a bouncer here?"
     "If I were, I wouldn't be sleeping tonight, now would I?"
     "I guess not." I admitted. "So what do you do here?"
     Edward was silent as I slid into the bed and pulled the covers up over
me, we were so close our arms touched on our nearer sides, just a light
brushing, but steadily. "Madame Madeleine believes in catering to all of
her customer's needs." He began. "And while most men are content simply
with a single woman, there are those who wish more than one. And some of
these want another man with them in the bed to enjoy those women with him."
     I had heard worse at my school. "I've heard of that." I said. "So you
are hired to join in when they need more than one man in their bed." I
considered, then paused, "So why don't they ask their friends to come with
them?"
     "Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't." Edward agreed. "And there
are those men who want not just a woman in their bed. They want three in
the bed, and the third one to be another man."
     I considered this with my limited knowledge. "So do you both take the
woman at the same time?"
     "If that's what he wants." Edward said. "But most of them want to be
taken by a man as they take the woman. So that's when I'm called in to help
out by Madame Madeleine. She pays me for my services then, and the rest of
time, most nights, I get free room and board. It's not a bad life at all."
     "Now this I had never heard about. Call me naive or ignorant if you
will, but remember the times, children were kept innocent of most of the
duties of a man in bed until he was ready to get married. "And you can do
this?" I blurted out. "I don't understand. How can you do that?"
     Edward's hand grasped my wrist and placed my hand under the covers at
the nexus of his legs, and I found my hand full of a fully erect male
phallus. "I do it with this." He said. "Plenty of the clients crave a big
tool like this in their bottoms while they're sticking their own in a
woman. What do you think?"
     I was agog with the feel of his prong. It was much bigger than my own,
and that was the only one I'd ever felt stiff like this. I ran my hand up
and down it, judging its size. It must be well over six or seven inches in
length (my own size), and so big around, my first finger and thumb barely
touched around the girth of it. I slid my hand up and down, up and down,
feeling the heat and the warmth and the strength of it.
     "What do you think about it, young fellow?" Edward asked me as my hand
played with his virility and his power.
     "It is a strong tool, all right." I agreed.
     "You like the feel of it, do you?"
     "I...I guess so." and I realized what I'd been doing and let go
hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." And he had put my hand on it,
after all.
     He compounded my embarrassment by reaching over and finding my own
manhood and his fingers gripped it with a knowledge and certainty that said
he'd fondled many a man's tool in the past. "Ahh, and there's yours." he
said.
     "Yes, it is." I blushed, I'm sure, for I had an erection fully as
stiff as his own.
     His hand moved up and down my dong as confidently as if I'd invited
him to. I guess, in a way, I had, for I wasn't fighting him off. "Yes, you
missed a chance to make one of these ladies awfully happy all night long. I
bet at your age, you could go at it again and again every hour on the
hour."
     "I guess I could." I gasped. His hand was making me feel so very, very
good. It wasn't like me playing with my own cock, it was both more intense
and more exciting. Masturbation is a solitary, incomplete and ultimately
unsatisfying thing, but this promised to make me completely whole and
satisfied.
     "You know it's Christmas Eve. Maybe even Christmas already." Edward
said. His hand caught hold of mine again and ferried it toward his crotch
again. "Why don't you and I share a bit of Christmas cheer tonight, just
you and me?"
     My hand landed on his prick again and my fingers folded themselves
around it.
     "We could have a good time and never tell anyone." Edward invited.
     I didn't answer, I just began to pump on his prong with energy and
verve. Edward groaned as I did and his own hand sped up, making me moan
along with him.
     "On the table, next to the light." Edward gasped. "The bottle. Hand it
to me."
     I looked and without turning loose of him, I grasped the bottle and
ferried it to him, it was the sort that holds those delicate oils favored
by some people for various reasons, such as to lubricate their lips after a
day of sailing and such.
     Edward pushed back the covers to expose our bodies to our knees and he
undid the bottle with one hand and upended it, poured it over my hand and
his cock in one motion. "Work that in for me." he panted. "You want some
for yourself?"
     "Uh-uh." I grunted. His hand was holding me so tight and firm, it felt
wonderful. The oil was making my own hand slip about in a way that had to
be diminishing his pleasure. He'd poured so much, it was really unworkable,
a little might have made it better, but this was layering his prod thickly
all over.
     "Get me all greased up, yeah, like that." Edward breathed
huskily. "Get me all lubricated, you'll enjoy it, you'll see."
     I didn't understand that, but in my current state, with his muscled
hand and arm pleasuring me, I didn't much care. I moved my hand to
lubricate him instead of pumping him, and he said, "Yeah, that'll do it."
He let go and moved suddenly, his arms caught me and pulled me toward the
center of the bed and then his arms were lifting my legs upwards and he was
between them and I realized then what he intended to do.
     "Oh, my God! You don't mean to...hah!" I felt then the touch of his
glans against my nether opening, and I felt frightened. "Please, I didn't
mean this, I didn't!"
     "This is what they all want from me." Edward said as he pressed his
cock against my sphincter and I felt it open slowly against the
pressure. "All the men who prefer a man to a woman. That's you, isn't it?
You prefer a man to a woman?"
     It wasn't until he said those words that I realized it. The fluttering
in my stomach, the nervousness. It wasn't virginal flightiness I'd had, it
was the sheer panic of a man faced with sex with a woman when it was
against his very nature to do so. Was this what I'd always wanted? My
furtive sexual fantasies in my bed when I'd pleasured myself, who was that
phantom figure above me on the bed, what was he doing? He? HE!
     Edward pushed into me further and I didn't resist him any further, I
groaned and flexed my buttocks in an effort to pull him in deeper. Edward
gave a rich, baritone chuckle when I did this. "Yeah, this is what you
want, isn't it?" He pushed a little harder and the glans of his cock popped
into me and I moaned. "Looks like I'll be working this Christmas after all,
won't I?"
     "Yes, oh, yes!" I moaned and clutched his broad ribcage and my hands
moved over the muscles rippling in his back. He felt so good, he smelled so
good! So perfect! So RIGHT!
     "Just let me work this into you deeper and then we'll get started."
Edward took his time and slowly moved into me, every push of his hips only
served to send his prong a fractional amount into me. But he persevered and
soon I felt his pubic hair brushing my expanded sphincter like a plush
washcloth might.
     "Now we got it all into you." Edward panted. "You tell me when you're
ready for me to start moving it for you."
     I didn't understand and was about to say so when I felt my bowels
gurgle and suddenly the intense pressure of his cock was lessened. The
pleasure of it was less, as well and I moved a little to restore that, and
as I did, I felt my inner body being brushed in a way that sent waved of
pleasure up my spine the same as my dong had done earlier. I gave out a low
groan and began to move myself more, and every movement was joy, joy, JOY!
     Edward felt it, too and he gave another of those masculine chuckles
and without waiting for me to give the word, he began to move atop me. His
strokes were masterful and elegant, sending me into an ecstasy of delight
that washed over me with every thrust of his hips.
     And as I moaned, so did he and his tempo of stroking increased. As he
did, so did his kindness. It was less like I was being treated with kid
gloves, now I was getting the unfettered, undiluted lust of a man and his
huge organ throbbed as it moved, as if his masculine energy was begging to
get out.
     As it was in me, as well. My own orgasm grew in me and I panted
harder, as did Edward. "I'm...I'm...I'm getting close!" I managed to get
out.
     "Me, too, kid!" Edward began to ram me harder than before, now the
sound of his hips colliding with my buttocks was an audible slapping noise
that shook me to the very core, and I gave out a loud, long groan as my
climax struck me and then I arced my back, and my cock sprayed both of us
with a lavish, heavy geyser of raw sexual energy. Hot splashes of my spunk
struck Edward's stomach and chest, and heavy drips of the jism rained down
on me, other spurts were lower and reached to above my breasts.
     And as my own climax slackened, Edward gave out a roar, his hips
thrust his dong deep into me and he moaned again and again and I felt a hot
boiling lava of hot man-jizz seething within my bowels, his cock was
darting back and forth within it and I hung onto Edward in exhausted bliss
as Edward finished his own ejaculation and then fell heavily down onto me,
his weight oppressive and heavy with sweat and his breath rushed at me as
he panted, washing over my right cheek and neck and the smell of his spent
lust filled my nostrils and I knew then the essential completion of my
childhood had been effected, I was now, unmistakable and unredeemably, A
MAN!
     "Hooh, ho, huh, hah, uh, uh, ah!" Edward gasped and then he lifted
himself bodily off me on his arms. "That was so fucking hot!" He
breathed. "You are so damned good, kid! I haven't come like that in a long
time!"
     "Me, either!" I agreed.
     "Oh, oh, uh!" Edward said. "Let's get some sleep now, but I'm going to
want to fuck you again before morning, so don't be surprised if you wake up
with my cock back in your butt." He then withdrew his spent, slimy organ
from my bowels. "You paid for all night, I'm going to give you all night."
     "Yeah, all night." I said dreamily and he pulled the covers over us
and together, our bodies all semi-tangled and sweat-soaked and reeking,
Edward and I went back to sleep.
     He proved himself a man of his word, I awoke a bit later to find
myself on my side and his dong back inside me. He kept it up a while, then
rolled me onto my stomach and finished like that, again I shot my load
along with him, this time soaking the mattress under us with my own seed.
     Twice more, he hammered at me before the sun rose, and I heard the
knock at the door. "One-half hour until breakfast." came Bella's voice.
     The showers were a row of them that the women were using, Edward led
me into there as casually as if we belonged, and the women didn't react. I
showered myself with them and then went back to Edward's room to draw on my
clothing again.
     After breakfast, I sought out Madame Madeleine. "I want to thank you
for your understanding and hospitality." I said.
     "Not at all, Mr. Mountbatten." she said. "It's the policy of my house
to please all who enter here."
     "Yes, and about that, the money my father paid you for Emily. Instead
of giving it back to my father, could you give it to Edward instead?"
     "He's earned it?" she asked me.
     I found myself unashamed of what I had done. "He has, in full
measure." I agreed.
     "Then that's what we'll do." There was a ring at the door and Madame
Madeleine went on, "That'll be your father calling for you, I think. Are
you ready to face him?"
     I nodded and she went to answer the door and it was indeed my
father. I went out with him and he said nothing until we were in the cab
and riding back toward my own house. "So, Son, how are you feeling this
morning? Is everything all right?"
     "It's more than all right, Father." I said fervently and he laughed.
"Best Christmas present I ever had! I'm never going to forget it!"
     "So let's get you home for the rest of the holiday, Son."
     "Merry Christmas, Father!"
     "Merry Christmas, Son."

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM