The Temptation of Eve
This story came out of a trip to Kelly Country and to where a thriving town once stood in the Woolshed. A heady mix of prospectors, Chinese community and selectors, and it rather sparked my imagination about the hotels and the ladies of Sebastopol.
Banner by Erendira
The young man at the door held back a little, leaned against the wall in the shadows and put his hands in his pockets, his fingers jingling the warmed coins that nestled deep at the bottom. Not much, he thought for what seemed to him a momentous thing. Doing that. Peering around the corner he could see men approaching and pushed himself further back against the wood. Cursing while he waited for the men to pass, he surrendered to the anxieties that once again gathered forces in his mind, spinning together until his stomach ached with it all. He closed his eyes to run through it for the umpteenth time, to try to quell the adrenalin that said ‘ah forget it...sure Aaron will be about. Go have a laugh with yer mate instead’. Though in shorter hand perhaps.
Resolutely he reminded himself:
They did this all the time
It was fair exchange, he wasn’t forcin’ anyone. In fact they’d probably be grateful for the money however little it seemed to be.
It would be over quick and he could get out of here, knowing that he at least was no longer a virgin.
See but there was the trouble, least one of them. That issue of ‘quick’. What if he spilled in a second or two- what about if it was even before she opened her legs? She would laugh at him. Or worse still- what if he didn’t fancy her much and he couldn’t get it up in the first place. His cock seemed to retreat further into his body at the thought of being exposed as a sham. Fuck, why was this so difficult? He reran discussions in his head about that Cathy who had let him get so far before she scrambled up and told him that he’d have to wait ‘til after they was married for that sort of thing.’ Perhaps he could try a bit more persuadin’?
Thinkin’ about Cathy and her small breasts like round apples in his hands had rallied his cock a little at least and he swallowed hard. She was on her guard now though, before he got anywhere near she would look at him with those big blue eyes and tut her disapproval. Ah sure she loved him- she said so herself- but that didn’t mean he was going to get in her drawers all the same. No he was definitely doing this.
These women didn’t worry about rings and all that. This place and the one along the way had been going for years. As trade slipped away with the gold prospectors’ dreams their lustre had diminished slowly but they still played music into the night- you could hear it caught on the wind through the trees, its tune fading in and out with the gusts. And, well Michael and Paddy had said you just had to go in and there the women would be. Waitin’. He had watched them sometimes, him and Aaron, the comings and goings of the women in the wooden town of Sebastopol, the brighter colours despite the frayed hems, and the fullness of their lips as they laughed extravagantly for an audience that might just be noticing. He wondered briefly what those lips would feel like, whether it would cost extra and whether he would have enough coins for that. In any case the thought of it was enough to do the rest of the coaxing his cock needed; a pulse of hopeful blood had him wince a little. Sh it, getting ahead of yerself Byrne, will you just go in!
Straightening his jacket and polishing his boots on the back of his trousers one last time, he pushed the dread to the back of his mind and entered the door. A haze of smoke made things look disappointingly ordinary in the gloom, it might have had a few more tassels but otherwise it was predictably familiar and awkwardly he looked around for some kind of a sign to say what a fella was expected to do. There were women sitting at tables with men, drinking and kissing some, but no suggestion of anything nearing what he was hoping for, nor how one would go about stating his intentions. Perhaps he had made a mistake. He was busy considering turning about on his heels when a voice came close.
“Good evening, a fine night wouldn’t you say?”
Christ. This is it. Joe breathed shallow and turned to greet whoever had spoken to him.
“What can I do for you? Mr....?”
He felt himself pale, hadn’t even considered that he would be required to give a name really. Never mind a Mister. Was that necessary? Quickly he searched for something. “Mr King. Aye, good evenin’” He tried to look confident that it was how he was used to being addressed and smiled quickly, his hands diving deep into his jacket. He most certainly didn’t want to shake on it.
The woman opposite him grinned back and glanced over her shoulder. His rising consternation not helped by the little chuckle he thought she had barely troubled to conceal. His eyes followed hers to the bar at the back, where now he could just see a whole bunch of women just standing. Waitin’ as Michael said. Trouble was they looked as if it was him that was to be doing the entertaining, not the other way round. There was a lot of them, that was for sure, and without wishing to stare openly he let his eyes glance at the rather bigger apples that appeared to be almost spilling over the top of dresses and onto the dark wood of the bar. Despite himself a warm expectancy grew in his stomach somewhere even if he did feel like a fish flappin’ on the banks of the creek.
“What can I do for you then.... Mr King?”
Jesus. He wasn’t expected to spell it out right here was he? Surely she must know?
“A drink maybe? While you decide...?” she was throwing him life lines, he just wasn’t sure which one to grab.
He cleared his throat, suddenly anxious too that his voice, when he could finally speak, would come out high and squeaky just to add to his embarrassment. This was all going wrong and throwing his lot in with her seemed like the solution, so he let his panic show in his eyes, a silent plea to her to remove him from this stage in the middle of the room. “Aye. Perhaps”
“Ah, it’s alright- don’t you be so scared. We won’t bite!” which seemed to cause a louder chuckle from women that he was now steadfastly ignoring. Nevertheless she led him by the arm over to where they gathered and ushered him into a chair. “May as well sit down then. Hey, Lily- pour the lad a whiskey, on the house will yer? He looks about ready to keel over”
Lad. He was about to sigh with resignation, marriage it was then- and it better be bloody soon, when a hand slipped over his thigh. Fingers strayed all to close and he felt his body leap.
“Haven’t seen you here before- though you look familiar to tell the truth- we never forget a handsome face do we girls? Is it your first time?”
It took something not to just crumple and plead with them to please just let him leave- he would give them the coins he had in his pocket just to do so and say no more about it. But those apples, for want of a better image, were just within reach. Like when yer scrumped from old McGinty’s tree and were reaching out into thin air, a ripe juicy one almost tasting in yer mouth before your fingers got to touch. Come on Joe! If idjuts like Michael could come in here, it couldn’t be that hard!
“Aye, I’ve not been to this place before.” He threw back the whiskey in one to cover the fact that he wasn’t intending on giving a completely full explanation of his sexual history, such that it was. He may even have smiled as he sat back in the chair a bit, the warmth of the grog hitting his stomach, and if he was truthful the interested if amused gaze of half a dozen women gave him some cheer. Not to mention the hand that seemed to be inching ever closer with every stroke.
Surrounded by scented roundness , the rustle of cloth and the gentle touches of fingers Joe could feel himself slip. Truly this dark and gloomy place must be heaven after all.
“Are yer not from the Woolshed then Mr King? Passing through?”
Joe, comfy now and a little dizzy with it all smiled and let his tongue spin a story. “Ah yes, that’s it! Doin’ a job of work on me way to New South Wales selling horses an’ all. Lovely little town it is here though, maybe I will stay a little while” He wondered at her chuckle, but frankly his mind wasn’t up to puzzling anything other than the precise distance between that hand and his c ock.
The next question though made him stop mid breath. “So we’ll be getting busy soon Mr King, have yer decided who it is to be?”
What... now? How was yer supposed to decide just like that? Biggest cleavage? Prettiest smile? The one that wasn’t openly laughing at yer? He turned to his new found guide to express his difficulty and watched her face soften and accept what she thought was his choice.
“Me? Oh well aren’t I the lucky one, come along then. Don’t say much do you darlin’?”
He couldn’t stop her could he? Say that he was still considering options and perhaps larger breasts would be more to his taste now he came to think of it? That would hurt her feelings he guessed, did it work like that here? Christ he wished he had enquired more fully of Michael, the exact nature of it all. In any case they were already half way along the hall and up the lamp lit stairs before he could catch a breath.
It felt all back to front to be following her up the stairs to a room that she decided, to be so powerless, least some of him considered so. Hardly the romantic lead that he had read about was he? Sweeping fair damsel from her feet and whisking her off to a tryst where she opened the petals of her delicate flower to him. But Joe, whilst he may have acknowledged the more wistful part of his nature in the heavy handed poetry he sometimes wrote, or in the dreams he entertained, was also a pragmatic sort. And what he wanted right now was to do and feel exactly what it was to enter a woman’s body. Perhaps from in the middle somewhere he could see the difference and hold both in their rightful place.
Nevertheless he couldn’t quite stifle the frown as she threw open the door to a small room, a thin bed which the previous occupants had done their best perhaps to make but evidently in a hurry. A faded orange cloth at the window that attempted to add some exotic charm but really only succeeded in highlighting quite the opposite. He shook his head slightly; really he needed to stop thinking about the furnishings- a point that was underscored by a woman already unbuttoning her dress on the bed.
Christ. He watched deft fingers pull ribbons undone exposing pale skin with some wonder, his breath catching as the cloth fell away to expose her breasts almost luminous in the gloom.
“Come on darlin’ come over sit by me eh?” His slightly wide eyes had her smile and pat the bed beside her “no sense in standing on ceremony all the way over there eh? This is what you’re paying for”
With a flush he remembered that part of this relationship and fished quickly in his pocket to pull out the coins. Was he supposed to pay before?
“You really are raw eh? Just leave it there on the table Mr King for now. Come and enjoy yer self first eh? Oh and yer had better take them boots off, house rules” And with a flourish she lay back on the bed, her own hand cupping her breast, extending it to him, an invitation that his brain finally surrendered to, and his body took over the reins.
Shameless, open, encouraging, active she led him into bliss. Nothing surely ever would feel so good as having a woman’s hand round yer c ock while yer face was buried in soft bouncing round skin. This wasn’t going to take long, but he found that suddenly that really wasn’t of any consequence, if only she didn’t stop. He had quite forgotten anything else when her low voice reminded him that he could in fact have it, right now. Speaking was perhaps beyond the question so he just nodded as she laid down underneath him and pulled up what was left of her dress to expose herself, enticing, threatening and black. Mary Mother of God.
Her smile and the way she lifted her hips had him gasp as if he were drowning, scrambling between her legs he caught a final breath as a virgin and plunged back into wet warm darkness.
His breath hardly settled before she was climbing off the bed, reaching down for stockings and putting pins back in her hair all at once. Despite the tingle that would have him lie there for a week savouring its ebb and flow he reached for her arm “Do yer have to go so soon? I don’t even know yer name...are yer alright?” He wasn't sure if that was quite what he was asking, but it seemed only polite.
She turned and smiled at him, unable to stop herself touching an earnest face as he struggled to get up off the bed, those muscles seeming to prefer horizontal.
“Aye, I have ter get back to work. You’ve a few minutes- but don’t stay long or someone will be falling on top of yer!” The alarm in his eyes had her giggle. “Sarah, me name’s Sarah.”
“Sarah” his round gentle voice cast it in stone in his mind. Swallowing hard as he grabbed for his boots he looked up at her face, a debate in his mind that he should tell the truth, that it might make a difference to her. “Well thank you then Sarah. It was me first”
She stood and swept the money from the table into her hand, he really was too sweet. “Aye I know” a wink made him blush “You was fine, but bring a bit more money next time eh Joseph Byrne?”