Her Last Trick

Pilgrim Press

Her Last Trick © 2014 by Huck Pilgrim

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places,
characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any
actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is
entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work
are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.
It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic
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Cover images courtesy of nickp37 &
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Cover by Joleene Naylor.

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Copyright 2014 by Huck Pilgrim

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Contents

Her Last Trick

More from Pilgrim Press

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An innocent girl allows herself to be used as
bait in a prostitution hustle, but then one night something goes
wrong and she must kneel to satisfy the john. An adult work, Her
Last Trick is a single story from the Carnal Series.

In "Her Last Trick," Jenna Morris got out of the
orphanage on her eighteenth birthday. She's an attractive girl with
a confidence problem. Her older brother Dale is a debarred MMA
fighter who is doing the best he can to look out for his little
sister. The two of them are traveling across the country, hustling
men in small bars. Jenna is the bait, Dale is the brawn. One night
they enter the small town of Carnal and everything goes so
wrong.

No matter the length, Carnal stories are always
dark and dirty. Each story takes place in the small town of Carnal,
where it’s always burning, no matter what the season.

Her Last
Trick

Jenna Morris sat at the bar, nursing a tonic
water.

Her brother, Dale Morris, sat in a booth, across
from the bar, pretending he didn’t know her. He was big, a muscle
bound tough. Tonight he wore a loose fitting black jersey, as much
to hide his physique as to conceal the identifying tattoos on his
arms and chest. The bar was dimly lit. Smokey. One of those places
men go nightly to drink themselves to death.

Dale had found it.

Jenna worked to keep her eyes off Dale. He’d
paid to get her fine black hair cut short, spikey. Even bought a
stud for her nose. It was Dale’s way of boosting her confidence.
She loved the look but felt self-conscious wearing it.

Fidgeting on her stool, she looked to the man
sitting on her left. He was big, broad shouldered, with dark,
smoldering eyes. Not long ago, he’d purchased the tonic water she
now held in her hand. The barkeep had placed the glass in front of
her and then nodded to where the man sat across the bar. Jenna
grinned at him appreciatively. He crossed the bar and took the seat
next to her. His size alarmed her, but Dale had dealt with bigger
men. Jenna and Dale had a good hustle together. Jenna would take
the mark into the parking lot and agree to do him for a small fee.
She always insisted on getting her money up front. “
You can’t
unsuck a cock
,” she’d chirp. Her youthful exuberance always
made the marks grin.

Jenna would toy with the mark until her brother
showed up. He was ruthless. Barred from the UFC for life, Dale knew
how to take a man down. He was quick. Deliberate.

“What’s your name?” the big man sitting next to
her asked.

Jenna could feel the nervous tension in her
tummy. Except for a brief appraisal before he took his seat, he
hadn’t even looked at her. He held his whiskey to his mouth and
scanned the room.

“Natasha,” Jenna said. Her voice sounded high
pitched. Squeaky.

The mark slowly turned his head to her, a big
grin on his face. He seemed to know it wasn’t her real name. He had
a bald head and a strong chin. Jenna could see some sort of tattoo
peeking out from the neck of his jersey.

He lowered his drink to the bar and appraised
her body.

Jenna’s cheeks went hot, but she enjoyed the
warmth. She liked the look in a man’s eyes as he calculated her
worth. Not her true worth, but the amount he was willing to pay for
twenty or so minutes of her time. She wore cutoff jeans and a
halter top. Leather combat boots, laced just above her ankle. Dale
felt her best bet was to dress like an innocent—some sort of
truant, a waif or a runaway. But he warned her not to overdo it.
He’d given her a fake driver’s license that said she was drinking
age. She needed to look the part.

She swiveled on the stool to give the mark a
better look. Make her intentions clear. She crossed and then
uncrossed her legs, tapped her boney knees together. Tossing out
her small breasts, she bit her lower lip and watched his eyes slide
to her navel, her slender hips.

The big man leaned forward.

Putting his lips near her ear, a hand on her
knee, he whispered that he’d be willing to give her one hundred
dollars to “go” in her mouth.

Jenna felt an electric pulse in her groin.

She had yet to sit with a boy in a darkened
theater. She’d never felt a boy’s hand in her own, nor walked with
a boy under an umbrella. Never felt her shoulder collide with a
boy’s, listening to the patter of raindrops above her head. A few
weeks ago, on her birthday, Dale had come to collect her from Saint
Joseph’s Orphanage for Abandoned Girls. She been living there since
she was eight years old.

Saint Joe’s had certainly never offered her an
occasion to let a boy
go
in her mouth.

Squeezing her thighs together, she sipped her
tonic water. Setting her glass down, she held up two bony fingers.
“Two hundred,” she whispered.

She looked at the mark.

He straightened on his stool.

She didn’t know why she was asking for so much.
It wasn’t like the negotiations even mattered. After Dale knocked
him out, they would just take all his money.

The big man stood and knocked back his
drink.

Jenna focused on her sweaty glass.

She was afraid to look. If he walked off, she
would have to lie to Dale. Make something up. They would have to
get back on the road again. Move on to the next little town. Sleep
in Dale’s van. Maybe this time they could head towards Florida.
California. Some place warm.

Jenna hesitantly cut her eyes to the mark.

He grinned. Tilted his head toward the door.

Jenna’s mouth dried up. Negotiations did matter.
They mattered to her.

Two. Hundred. Dollars.

Her heart beat faster, her pussy grew moist. Now
she wanted to suck the big man’s cock. Wanted to somehow repay him
for what he had just given her. Slipping from the stool, Jenna
couldn’t suppress a big, silly grin.
Two hundred
dollars.

She forced herself not to look at Dale.

Jenna briskly strode to the spot Dale had showed
her. It was in the alley behind the bar, past a small fenced in
area for dumpsters. The mark suggested spots of his own, but Jenna
kept a purposeful stride, rattling off excuses why those other
places wouldn’t do. Slipping into a small but surprisingly deep
brick alcove, she turned to face the mark.

A streetlamp in the alley threw the alcove into
deep shadow. The mark looked around and took a deep breath. Turning
his back to the alley, he gazed at Jenna.

She hugged her arms, though the night air was
still quite warm.

Reaching for her ear, he stroked her neck. She
nuzzled his hand and grinned. She held her hand out, rubbing her
fingertips together.

“Money?” she asked.

The mark laughed and reached into his
pocket.

“Right,” he said. “Can’t unsuck a cock.”

Jenna looked at him curiously. She’d been saying
that to marks for weeks and could no longer remember where she got
it. It wasn’t hers, but she’d never heard anyone else say it
before.

He started flipping through the wad of bills in
his hand, but then just handed all of the money to her. “Count it,”
he said.

Jenna felt a warm buzzing in her pussy as she
flipped through the bills. Slipping the cash into her shorts, she
licked her lips.

This was maybe her favorite part. Once in
Atlantic City she’d watched a young black man stroke his cock until
the big head glistened with something wet. She’d wanted to reach
out, touch the moisture with her finger. Put her finger in her
mouth. In Scranton she’d actually placed her hand on the throbbing
bulge in a truck driver’s pants. He’d had curly red hair and sky
blue eyes. As Jenna massaged his manhood, she watched him close his
eyes, and then his head suddenly rocked forward with the force of
Dale’s punch. At the Jersey shore, she’d only just reached out to
the black man’s penis before he went tumbling head over heels into
the sand.

She watched this mark undo his belt. He opened
his pants, lowered his fly, then fished his penis out of his
shorts. Jenna gazed at his long cock. It was pink and veiny, a
thick shaft that arced gently toward her, its bulbous head swaying,
like some sort of naked charmer.

Jenna felt a delicious rise in the alley’s
temperature.

Looking into the mark’s eyes, she saw his
desire. It was just how she’d always imagined a boyfriend might
look at her. She reached out, gingerly touching the shaft with her
fingertips. She blew air gently from her lungs. Using both her
hands, she held her first dick. She felt its warmth. Felt it grow
in her hands.

She listened for the soft padding of footsteps.
Hearing nothing, she quickly bent over and nuzzled her cheek on his
cock.

Jenna stood. Chuckled.

She was beside herself with her own good
fortune. Her cheek tingled where his cock had been. She let go of
his penis, then wiped her hands on her shorts.

She grinned at him.

A dog barked somewhere far away.

For the first time since she’d started working
with Dale, she considered what she’d do if he didn’t show up. A
stab of nervous energy coursed through her chest and Jenna chewed
her bottom lip. Dale always showed up.

Suddenly the mark startled, as if he had just
remembered something.

“Oh,” he said. “Right.”

He reached for the collar of his shirt and
pulled it over his head. His chest was magnificent, hairless and
tattooed, his arms thick like muscled oak. He deftly folded his
shirt in half, then half again, and placed it on the ground at his
feet.

He grinned.

Jenna felt her knees go weak.
Where was
Dale?

Her heart raced but she smiled.

Reaching out to the mark, she took his hands in
her own. She held onto him for a few seconds, then used his hands
to help lower herself onto her knees.

She looked up at him, looked at the cock
wobbling between them.

She took it in her hand.

Looking away, she waited for as long as she
dared. When nothing happened, she simply turned her head, opened
her mouth, and wrapped her sweet, young lips around his big pink
head. For the first time in her life, Jenna had a cock in her
mouth.

It was warm. It didn’t taste like anything,
really. Maybe a little salty. She put her hands on his hips. Forced
herself to relax.

His dick is inside me
.

Nuzzling her head, she filled her mouth with his
shaft. She felt his pubic hair caress her nose.

I’m sucking a cock
, she thought.
I’m
sucking a cock.

She felt him grow larger in her mouth.

Letting him fall from her mouth with a slurp,
she took his dick in her hands. She was breathing heavily. She
stroked the wet length of it.

Looking up, she grinned.

“Does this make me a cocksucker?” she whispered.
The question popped into her mind and came out her mouth before she
could stop it. She felt embarrassed.

He chuckled.

To prevent herself from saying anything more,
she put him right back into her mouth. She used her fists, her
tongue. She hoped against hope that she was doing it right. She
remembered the money he had given her and redoubled her effort.
Jenna had to stop every so often to catch her breath. During one of
her breaks, she found herself listening for Dale, only this time
she hoped he wouldn’t arrive.