Prudence in the Big Citybymaxdname©
Prudence in the Big City
2 April 1911
New York City
I watched her place her carpetbag down next to a wooden cart on the train platform. I had been waiting for an hour to collect a shipment from "a friend" in Baltimore without a sign of my package. The girl I spied was taller than most and even in her country garb the outline of her large "virtues" shown through the simple fabric that covered her slim but sturdy frame.
The bulk of the guests and servants, assigned to pick them up, had met and wandered away by this time, leaving only a few still on the dock. Several young lads, no more than ten years of age, began to circle the young woman taunting her with threats and lewd questions.
"Oy!" I barked at the young roughs. "Leave her to me, ya ragamuffins."
"What cha' gonner do, grandpa? Make 'er yer wife?" one called out to the amusement of the rest as they swarmed about her long skirt that she gathered in her fists in defense.
I hiked myself up to my full six feet two inches and pulled aside my coat so that my 45.70 "hog leg" pistol, that I had made in Albany, could flash in the afternoon sunlight. The biggest of the boys socked one of the others in the shoulder and made a mad dash towards the lower docks at the sight of the shiny metal. The rest followed their leader like rats into the darkness beneath the wooden planks.
The young woman blushed furiously but turned to face me in spite of her embarrassment.
"Sir, I surely thank ye. But I have not a thing to offer in thanks." Her accent betrayed her country upbringing. Auburn hair pulled up in a bun set off her fair complexion and bright blue eyes. The delicate features of the young woman caught me unaware and my breath caught at her beauty. The wide-brimmed hat atop her head cast a shadow on her slightly upturned nose, dusted lightly with freckles. This young woman was obviously a girl from the farm, newly arrived to the big city, but her agent had yet to arrive.
A "copper badge" of the New York Pinkerton Force strolled towards us twirling his baton as he approached.
"Ay, now! What's this all about?" The man barked in a thick brogue.
"Follow what I say," I whispered to her. "Or there'll be trouble."
I turned to face the man in the tall rounded hat.
"Just a little tardy in catching up to my niece. 'Tis nothing more." The private policeman pushed out his lower lip, cocked his head and drank in the young girl's outline. The sun shown through her simple fabric and the "copper" must have liked what he saw. A slow smile built up on his face.
"Me thinks this young lady should show evidence of her happenstance in New York City." His smile turned cruel now. To any man who frequented these docks, like myself, his intentions were clear. He would take this young beauty below the platform and have his way with her before he took her to the station house to be booked on a vagrancy charge. Many newly arrived young women had been treated the same by the Pinkerton cops.
"Easy, Paddy. She's my niece, that's all." I tried to soothe his raging libido.
His head snapped towards me at the "Paddy" comment. A suspicious eye burned into me and then shifted back to the terrified young woman. The cop made a grab at her elbow.
"She'll prove it by me, first." The young girl jerked her arm from his grasp and he snatched up his baton to strike her. I beat him to the punch and rapped him in the head with the pistol I had hidden beneath my coat. He fell to the ground in a heap.
"Come on!" I grabbed her bag and sprinted towards the corner. The young woman hesitated.
"You don't wanna be here when he comes 'round..." I added breathlessly.
She trotted to catch up. I slipped around the corner and checked the man once again. He had yet to rise and I hurriedly steered the woman towards my apartment.
Once inside the stairway to my building I took the steps two at a time while my young female ward followed more slowly. With the door flung open I pointed inside and offered quietly, "Hurry." She looked down the hallway towards the street once over her narrow shoulder and stepped through the threshold — the threshold into my room, the threshold of a man she did not know but soon would know intimately.
"Oh my!" she whispered breathlessly. "Oh my!"
I bolted the door and set her bag on the floor.
"Please, sit down while I get ya some cool water."
"Oh my! I don't understand what just happened but I think I owe you some kind of thanks, again, sir." She was seated and fanning her flushed face with a handkerchief when I handed her a glass of water from my icebox. Seated on the divan, her back was ramrod straight and only a portion of her tender looking bottom perched on the edge of the purple fabric.
"Ay. The 'cops' will have their way with ya if ya don't 'ave somebody awaitin' on the platform."
"Sir!" Her head dipped so that her wide-brimmed hat covered her flushed face. It was obvious my comment had embarrassed this simple country girl.
"Sorry, miss. But 'tis a fact. They're not a nice lot." I added before I took the empty glass from her hands. The slender fingers that held the glass that did not betray signs of hard work.
"Was someone supposed to meet ya, here?"
She cleared her throat quietly before she spoke. "Yes, sir. My cousin. She has found me a working position at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory where she is employed. I should go now to find her." With that she rose quickly, her hands clasped together around her purse that she clutched to her waist. I felt the blood run out of my face. The poor girl had not heard.
"Oh, miss. I am, deeply sorry. But there was a fire there just two days ago. Many lives were lost and the..." My voice trailed off as she fell back onto the divan, a blank stare on her face.
"Oh my. It can't be. I have this post..." She dug into her worn silk purse and pulled out a letter that she extended towards me. A trembling hand held a letter with scrawled writing across the front: Prudence Harris, Rural Post Hagerstown, Maryland. Inside was a happy little note about a position as a seamstress that had come open at the plant. It was signed: Kate Harris. I handed the letter back to the girl, sighed and closed my eyes for a second while I thought out my next words.
"Okay. I'll go check to see where..." I hesitated, not knowing how to explain to the young woman that more girls died in the inferno than escaped alive.
"Wait here." I finished.
She thrust out the letter, now crumpled in her tiny fist.
"Please..." she shook her head slightly as she stammered, "...her name is... Her name is on this. Please, take it to be sure."
I nodded and started off. Passing through the doorway I remembered the cop I had thumped and looked over my shoulder towards the pretty woman seated on my divan staring into space.
"Bolt this door. I'll knock twice, wait, then twice again."
Slowly her head turned towards me. Large tears rolled down her creamy cheeks and I felt something inside my gut twist at her plight. She nodded once, rose and shuffled to the door. I hurried to the mid-town hospital to check the names of the deceased and survivors.
I stood frozen before the door to my own apartment dreading what I had to do. Amongst the list of dead was the name of the young woman's cousin. This country girl who had traveled so far for a job that no longer existed, to stay with a cousin who had passed to the next world. My fist poised at the ready I wondered at this girl's fate.
Knock knock. Pause. Knock knock.
I heard dainty shoes click-click on the floor of my apartment and the bolt unfasten. I took a deep breath. Her head was dipped low as if she already knew my answer. I stepped inside and locked the door against the outside world.
"Miss Harris, I'm... I'm so very sorry." She nodded but did not speak. "Do you have money to stay in a boarding house until you can return home?" She fell onto my chest sobbing at my question. With trepidation I put my arms around her to comfort her.
"You don't understand. I can't go home," she managed between sobs. "I am a sullied woman," she bawled.
It took some time but I was able to calm her at last and she related her tale in depth. While riding bareback on the family plow horse she spurred it to a cantor and experienced a great thrill in her loins. After riding for several miles she felt her entire body shake and a "most peculiar pleasure" threatened to knock her from her mount. While recovering from her experience under a tree the local Vicar happened by and, he being young and handsome in her eyes, they made love under that tree.
The Vicar confessed his sin to his superiors and was sent to Africa as a missionary while poor Prudence was banished to New York City as punishment for "being lusty."
"So, you see, I cannot return." Leaning forward, close to me, I could feel the heat of her breasts on my arm, though they did not touch me. I swallowed with some difficulty.
"Well..." I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat to hide the stiffness in my trousers. "You have no one else here that you can depend on?"
"No, sir." Her eyes pleading as she stared into mine.
"Only two silver dollars. Not enough to stay in a reputable house."
I sighed. "So be it. You can stay here until you find a job and get yourself setup."
She collapsed onto my arm pressing her face into the fabric of my coat.
"Thank you, sir," she gushed.
"Please, call me Samuel... no, Sam will do."
Popping upright on the divan she looked into my eyes and then slowly lowered her gaze before she spoke.
"I am, Prudence." I caught her chin in my hand and pulled her face up so I might look at it more closely. When our eyes met her breath seemed to leave her body in a rush. Her face was an oval shape with a dainty chin and full round lips perched above. The few stray freckles made her creamy fair skin almost glow and with her face clasped in my palm she blushed fully making her look all the more beautiful. Her mouth parted slightly and her breathing became labored as she searched my eyes and I knew then she would be mine tonight.
Inching forward I pressed my lips to hers and felt her hot breath on my face. Panting slightly, she allowed my tongue to split her lips and enter her sweet mouth. I dabbed at her tongue briefly to coax it from her mouth and into mine. A trembling tongue cautiously slid between my lips. Then with a rush of breath she fell forward onto me, stabbing her tongue deep into my mouth searching, most likely, for that "most peculiar pleasure" she had found riding astride her horse.
She pulled her face away from mine momentarily
"Sam," she whispered. "You have been most kind. I will abide by thy wishes." When she finished I felt her weight push me back onto the divan, allowing me to measure the heft of her chest pressing into my ribs.
"You'll abide by my every wish?" I cooed into her ear. The young woman answered earnestly.
"Sam, I have but little choice. You are the only option I know of. Please, don't cast me out. I have paid for my sin a hundred times over. I only wish for a place to stay secure from danger and the weather." Then she set her jaw, pointing it at my face as she did. "If you cannot bear to be with a woman such as..."
I put my index finger to her lips to quiet her voice.
"No, sweet Prudence. I find you most beautiful but I am older than thee by almost twice, I am sure." Her hand wrapped around mine and she pulled my finger from her lips.
"That matter's little in this world, dear Sam. I have been spoiled by my own lust and few men of any age would have such a coarse woman..."
"Stop it! You are truly a fine woman, I am sure. I have not seen all of you but I can..."
A change swept over her delicate features — nostrils flaring while her lips parted slightly. Rising slowly she stood only inches in front of me. Her breathing was labored while she peered down at me, intent on my every move.
"Let me show you what I am, as a woman." She choked out the words between her ragged breaths.
A thumb and finger popped the first button at her throat and continued down the long line of buttons that held her dress tightly closed. With each button released so it seemed her ardor grew. I eased myself back into the fabric of my divan to take in her seductive display. A grin, I could not hide, grew, and I could no longer hide the tent my cock was making of my trousers. She glanced at the rising fabric quickly and turned away.
"How many men have seen you, Prudence?" I asked her this question because she seemed so at ease stripping off her clothing in front of a man she hardly knew.
"Before the vicar there was..." Prudence blurted out her answer but then she froze, unable to move at all, it seemed.
Her hands trembled now and tears welled up in the corners of her blue eyes.
"Tell me, Prudence. What's wrong?"
She burst into fits of sobbing and collapsed at my feet.
"Oh my! I am cursed with a passion, decent men can't tolerate." Now she bawled loudly, "And my father..."
"Did your father touch you?" I asked quietly.
"No! But what did he need with his new bride? When mother died I thought I'd be the woman of the house but he wouldn't touch me and he married a girl even younger than I!" I patted the back of her head as she sobbed into my lap. Now I felt as though my cock would rip through my trousers. I pulled her face away from the buttons of my pants with regret.
"You can't ever go back home, can you?"
She shook her head sadly and fell back to weeping.
For several more minutes she cried and at last she sniffled and looked up at me from her spot on the floor at my feet.
"I only wanted him to be happy." I nodded. "Do I make you happy?" she whimpered.
"Yes," I hissed softly gazing into her bloodshot blue eyes.
"I told my father I was ready to be a wife... his wife. But he married a woman much too young and sent me here to be a prisoner of this place." This poor girl had such good intentions but they were mislaid. I gently kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.
Prudence sniffed as her tears subsided and I felt her face burrow into my lap while her lips pressed against the underside of my cock encased in the thick fabric of my pants. Her fingers slid to the buttons that held my hard flesh prisoner and in a trice it was exposed to the cool air, standing proudly erect.
With wide eyes she surveyed my organ and queried softly, "Is yours bigger than most?"
It was and I nodded. "Yes it is. But I'll be gentle with you." A nod from her and she licked the underside of my flesh in a long careful maneuver. She smacked her lips and slipped the glans into her mouth and held it briefly. She was trying not to gag as she grew accustomed to having my erect cock in her mouth.
"Breathe through your nose, Prudence," I whispered.
She moaned her assent which caused me to suck in a deep breath. With a slurp and a swallow she asked, "Was that right?"
"Yes. That was wonderful," I gushed. "Where did you learn such an art?"
"The Vicar asked me to do this. He said he learnt it in seminary. But I choked rather badly. Since then I have practiced on many vegetables but yours is again as big as any carrot from our garden."
A quick grin flashed across her face before she bobbed face first onto my turgid flesh once again sucking a good four inches quickly into her mouth. This dive caused her to gag but she swallowed and attacked it again this time slipping it deeper into her throat. Prudence only wanted me to be happy and the warmth of her wet mouth was happiness enough.
"Prudence, my sweet," I begged as I pulled her willing mouth off my cock. "I want to see what charms you have hidden beneath your dress."
She dropped her eyes to the manhood inches from her chin. "I hope it meets your fancy." There was a certain sadness to her voice. A country girl has no need of beauty, though she certainly had that. Moving without wasted motion she stood before me. Her face contained a hint of mischief now as she picked at the remaining buttons holding her dress tight.
Prudence shrugged and her dress fell in a heap around her ankles. With deliberate slow actions she plucked at her remaining layers of clothing until she was able to shed her top dressings. The beauty of this simple girl lit the room and she slowly lowered her arms to her sides so I might better take in her form.
Now, I'm a man who has seen a good number of women unclad but Prudence was an equal to any I have viewed and some have been famous dance hall girls.
Well formed heavy breasts stood away from chest proudly. The nipples of this woman were a soft pink color and somewhat small in comparison to her ample bosoms. There was a smooth curve from the bottom crease —a delicate fold against her ribs — to the long straight expanse of pale skin that led upward. The soft outline of a couple of ribs and her collar bone framed her flesh above while two ribs shown below. She was not like the husky farm girls I have seen in the past, Prudence was tall but better defined than any women I've seen prior.
"'tis most beautiful," I whispered. My comment fueled her ardor. Her lips parted and her breathing sped up. Never have I seen a woman who so desperately wanted approval.
Palms pressed flat against her ribs as she slipped her fingers beneath the layers of cloth that covered her hips. A easy graceful push and the layers of white cotton slid over her thighs to land atop her dress. She sucked in her bottom lip and was fairly panting now, standing before me uncovered to the breadth of her womanhood.
Her hips were still slim, not yet taking on the wider stance of an older woman, but the soft auburn fur between her legs could not hold back the sweet aroma of a real woman: a woman who begs to hold a man's firmness inside her dewy folds. She stepped to the side, away from her piled clothing clad only in her knee-high white stockings — a tiny pink ribbon at the top to hold them tight above her calf — and her high-top buttoned shoes. Kicking up her foot behind her she reached towards the black buttons of her shoe.
"No, leave them on," I whispered. She stood before me naked — except for her white stockings and black shoes — waiting for me to make a move.
"Take your hair down."
Both arms went above her head to fumble with her hair combs revealing a long straight dimple along the center of her stomach that stopped right above her bellybutton, clearly defining the muscles that lay beneath her supple flesh. Below that, the soft swell of her belly curved gently towards the treasures of her womb. Shaking her head let loose the piles of thick locks that flowed over her bosoms in silky auburn rivulets.
"I stood before my father just like this." There was a quiver her voice. "But still he sent me away..." I could not see her eyes through the shiny hair that spread out across her face and shoulders but I could hear deep sadness in that timid voice.
"I only wanted him to be happy," she squeaked through her tears.
"Sh, now." I stood and wrapped my arms around her slender body to pull her close. While standing, my suspenders slipped off my shoulders allowing my trousers to fall and my hard flesh pressed against her lean stomach while the damp tip of my organ pressed against the bottom of her heavy bosom. A delicate hand wrapped around my erection and I shivered at her touch.
"Oh my. I am so cursed with this lust..." she whimpered.
I pushed her away from me with my hands on her shoulders. At arm's length I spoke in a somber tone to her.
"If you are cursed then you should be punished."
"What punishment is left for me?"
I pointed to a straight back wooden chair. She turned, looked at it and then looked back at me, puzzled. After pulling up my pants by my suspenders I pointed again.
"Stand behind that chair and put your hands on the seat." My voice was stern now and Prudence dropped her gaze to the floor before she walked softly, in spite of her shoes, to stand behind the chair. When she leaned over the back of the chair, she exposed her creamy white bum to my gaze and I walked into the washroom to get my razor strop from its hook.