“How do you deal with the pain?” Sally asked.
“It isn’t painful. It might be, at first, but the pain quickly transforms to amazing pleasure.”
Sally’s eyes widened in confusion. “How is that possible?”
Chelsea showed her what the men might want. She sucked on Sally’s index finger, licking and tonguing Sally’s appendage as any working girl might do on a customer’s cock. Chelsea instructed her to close her eyes and suck hard. “The harder you suck, the faster they will come. Now you try on me,” Chelsea instructed.
Sally nodded her head gravely, but then dutifully took Chelsea’s thumb into her wet mouth sucking and slurping with professional adeptness. “You’re a fast learner,” Chelsea praised. Chelsea even showed Sally what customers wanted if a dick suck was not enough. This is what Sally feared the most. She had always heard that sex was brutally painful.
“You’ll be fine. Lie back,” Chelsea soothed her.
Sally laid on her back staring up at the ceiling cringing for what would happen next. Chelsea lifted Sally’s skirts. Sally’s legs tingled from the air hitting her bare legs. Chelsea marveled at Sally’s smooth creamy skin. She carefully shimmied Sally’s undergarments down. She lightly gasped at the stunning sight of Sally’s bright red pubic hair clustered above her lips.
“I’m just going to use one finger to give you the idea of what it will feel like,” Chelsea purred.
Sally held her breath and nodded. Chelsea sucked on her finger making it wet and slick before sliding it gently into Sally’s pussy. Sally released air from her lungs in a long sensuous pant.
“Let yourself feel how good it is,” Chelsea murmured as she pushed her finger in and out of Sally’s wet cavern. Sally moaned loudly; the new sensation thrilling her.
Sally opened her eyes and looked at Chelsea. “Do you think you could put two fingers? Just so I know what it’s like.”
Chelsea nodded. She pushed a second finger in a twisting motion making Sally writhe in bed. “It’s important to enjoy yourself with these men. There is nothing wrong in feeling pleasure too,” she told Sally pushing in deeper. “When you need to release, do it.”
Sally shut her eyes tightly wanting to stop the rumbling shudder inside her, but also not wanting to, because the tingle was too delicious. Sally let go, feeling her pussy contract around Chelsea’s fingers. Her body trembled vigorously. She felt renewed and victorious, feeling for the first time in her life that sex might possibly not be as loathsome as her mother once told her.
Chapter 9
Henry volunteered to serve in the Union army. He was part of the New York Fire Zouaves, the 11th New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment, under Elmer Ellsworth. He never forgot the enormous crowd of people on Broadway cheering as he and 30,000 other men marched off to war. He felt heroic and brave that day. That aggrandizing feeling of valor soon dulled when Henry actually engaged in bloody battle.
Henry had been working in the factories as he’d always done since his father took him out of school, but he was eager to do something more with his life, so volunteered as a firefighter. Colonel Elmer Ellsworth, a close friend of President Lincoln, came to New York City himself to recruit soldiers. He went straight to the volunteer fire companies entreating them with praises that the New York Fireman were the finest men in the country.
On the battle field of the First Battle of Bull Run, the 11th New York supported the cannon but ultimately were unable to withstand the incessant barrage of artillery and infantry from the Confederates. They retreated and fell back to Manassas-Sudley Road. The 11th New York tried to mount Henry Hill four times, failing each time.
Each time Henry charged up that hill with his brothers, there were less of them than the attempt before. In the end, over 400 of his fellow Zoaves lost their lives while dozens more were taken as prisoners or were injured. Henry survived, but even Colonel Ellsworth died of a gunshot to the chest. Henry shot dead many Confederate soldiers himself, which tore at his soul for the rest of his life.
Henry was a valiant and noble solider, but war can sour a man. No matter what sweetness he comes upon, the bitterness of war is caught in his throat. After the war, Henry shuffled around despondently unable to get the sourness out of his mouth, until he met Dinah. She floated through life taking what she needed to survive and what she wanted to feel alive.
Her vagabond lifestyle enabled her to cross paths with other meandering souls, many who wandered simply because they were wanted in other states. Before she met Henry, Dinah didn’t have the nerve to rob a bank on her own. She stuck to petty theft: pilfering from a general store or swindling old women with a sob story of her hard luck. By the time she met Henry and his gang, she was ready to step up to bigger hauls.
Henry never understood Dinah’s persistence to live life on the edge. He’d seen war with his own two eyes. He wanted to live with his two feet firmly on the sturdy ground, but Dinah loved the adventure of it. She thrived in an adrenaline rush.
Any money they stole, they quickly spent. Dinah’s mantra of living in the moment pervaded their way of life. They tossed their money around senselessly. Just as quickly as they had it in their hands, it was gone.
Their world shifted drastically when Dinah became pregnant. Dinah foolishly believed that nothing had to change just because of a baby, but Henry knew that things would never be the same if he could help it. He set Dinah up in Sonora. He bought horses and cattle with the intention of living honestly again like the Union soldier he once was.
He hired Silas, who had been herding cattle with his father and brothers, from Mexico to California since he was a small boy. Silas was dependable and honest. He was a man of a very few words, but Henry grew to trust him. It was nice to be around an upstanding man like Silas after so many years of associating with grifters and men with shifty eyes who he constantly feared might cheat him if he wasn’t constantly alert.
Silas and Henry would be away for weeks at a time driving cattle. When they returned, Dinah had somehow spent all the money. Henry worked harder, but he never could catch up. The memories of gaining fast cash tugged at him. When Tallulah was born, the memories tugged harder until Henry, too feeble with worry over his expanding family, began to romanticize his bandit past.
Chapter 10
Daisy rose early the next morning energized and optimistic about her new life as a wife and stepmother. She had grown up in the presence of servants cleaning, cooking, and managing her mother’s household. She felt confident that she gleaned enough from being in their presence that she could get her own household in supreme shape. This was the path she had chosen, albeit a hasty path initialized by vengeance, but she intended to make the very best of it.
She cleaned the best she could, using a broom and mop as she’d seen it done before. The floors didn’t shine, but she, at least, cleaned up the tracks of mud leading into and out of the house. The girls’ toys were scattered about even in the most unlikely places: in a kitchen cupboard, in a pile outside near the backdoor, or randomly thrown on the bookshelves.
She set in her mind to get breakfast on the table. Without a woman around, she wondered how long they all had been without proper meals. She entered the chicken coup swelling with bravado. How hard could this be?
The hens were more cantankerous than she expected chickens to ever to be. They squawked and fluttered their wings at her sending up flurries of feathers and dust. She was too afraid to reach her hand near the contemptuous animals. She took a deep breath and slowly edged her hand under one of the hens. With quick methodical jab the beast pecked her wrist sending Daisy flying out of the coup screaming, “Merde!”
Out of breath and perplexed, she looked up to see Silas watching her laughing to himself. “What’s so funny?” Daisy asked brushing down her skirt mortified.
“You need some eggs?” Silas asked.
Daisy bit her tongue and acquiesced, “Yes.”
“I’ll get them for you,” Silas said walking to the coup.
Dai
sy, momentarily relieved to be unburdened with the dreaded task, decided against helplessness and asked instead, “Can you show me how?”
Silas’s eyes shot up in surprise. “Sure.” Silas showed her how to coo to the birds and gently pet their backs to soothe them. With adeptness, Silas retrieved six eggs in a matter of minutes. “You try.”
With shaking hands, Daisy cooed and pet the hen that originally pecked her. She then reached under and retrieved an egg. She felt pride rise up inside of her for something she once thought was an easy task since others in Charleston had done it for her all her life. There were many things about everyday life that Daisy simply did not know about.
“Thank you,” Daisy said sincerely. Silas nodded and headed out to tend to the cattle.
By the time the girls woke up, Daisy made biscuits and eggs. It was her first attempt of ever cooking food. She loosely followed what she had seen Mamie do in the kitchen substituting ingredients based on what she found in the cupboards. As a girl, she often sat in the kitchen watching Mamie cook. She loved keeping her company in the safe confines of the kitchen, a place her mother never fully entered, only standing from the doorway to speak to Mamie or the other servants. It was where Daisy could talk to Mamie about anything she wanted without her mother around. Mamie, a tall, strong limbed woman from Haiti, spoke French, too. Mamie called Daisy, mon canard, my duck because Daisy quacked all day and all night to her.
If Mamie were there, she would have seen her little duck flailing about the kitchen with smoke billowing from her pan, trying her best to make an edible breakfast. The biscuits were hard as rocks and the eggs were burnt to hard crunchy crisp.
“Bon appetit,” Daisy said to the girls, Henry, and Silas.
Henry scooped the food into his mouth smiling. “Thank you. Tastes great.”
Lilah took a miniscule bite and then instantly spat it out. “Dégueulasse!” she said.
“Je suis vraiment désolé,” Daisy said embarrassed. “I’m not a cook. I’ve never cooked before.”
“Bien sûr!” Lilah said standing up and throwing her hands up in the air.
“Lilah, take your seat please and show some respect,” Henry said. Lilah threw herself back into her chair crossing her arms in defiance.
“It’s a good try for a first ever attempt,” Silas offered knocking the biscuits on the table and examining them like a geologist.
“Merci,” Daisy said looking down feeling like a failure. Possibly that white powdery substance wasn’t the correct powder to use when making biscuits.
“Qu’est-ce que la mère?” Lilah asked.
“Our mama is wonderful cook,” Tallulah explained.
Daisy nodded knowingly suspecting this woman she was supposed to replace was a magnificent cook, mother, wife, seamstress, egg retriever, and house cleaner.
“Your mother was, but she isn’t here. Your mother would want you to respect Miss Daisy,” Henry said sternly.
Lilah flew to her feet slamming her hands on the table making the flatware clink. “You don’t know my mother and what she would want!” she hurled at Henry. She stormed out of the kitchen with heavy determined steps. Tallulah dutifully stood, gave Daisy a wave, and ran after her sister.
Daisy crossed her arms and leaned back on the counter heaving a hefty sigh. “You don’t have to eat that,” she said to Henry and Silas.
“Muchas gracias,” Silas said gulping water down to get the burnt aftertaste out his mouth.
Henry stood and put his arms around Daisy. “You’re doing great.” Daisy leaned her head against his shoulder. She doubted that.
Daisy cleaned up the failed breakfast and cleared the table for the girls’ lessons. She looked through bookcase and found “Little Women,” a book she knew many girls raved over after its publication a few years before. She was curious about the book herself and thought this would be a good start to their lessons together.
Henry went into town for an errand of some kind; he didn’t elaborate much about it. He assured her again that she was doing a fine job, and he couldn’t have asked for a better wife. Daisy didn’t want to let him down or the girls, since they surely missed their mother and needed as much love as possible.
“Lilah! Tallulah!” she called for them searching every room, which wasn’t that difficult in such a small house.
On the front porch, she called out to Silas. “Have you seen the girls?”
“They usually camp out in the stables with the horses. I’ll go get them,” Silas offered.
“Thank you,” Daisy said to him relieved.
Silas led the girls into the house. Lilah dragged her feet while Tallulah tramped up to Daisy and promptly sat at the table.
Lilah whined to Silas, “Queremos quedarnos contigo.”
Silas answered as he left, “After lessons, you can come back out and we’ll groom the horses.”
Lilah and Tallulah’s eyes widened with excitement. “Si!” they both exclaimed.
“You speak Spanish?” Daisy asked.
“Silas has been teaching us. He speaks that in Mexico. Did you know Mexico is a country?” Tallulah answered. “I do. Silas told us.”
Lilah’s eyes burned as she said to Daisy, “Si, pero no hablas español.”
Daisy and Lilah stared at each other long time in a silent stand off before Daisy said, “I suspect you said something about me not being able to speak Spanish. True, I don’t. I also suspect that the two of you are quite clever, able to speak several languages, and able to drive people away with your wiles.” Lilah shifted in her chair and stared out the window. “I don’t want to be your mother. I want to be your friend.” Daisy held up “Little Women.” “We can read together as friends. I haven’t read this book yet.”
Lilah rolled her eyes. Tallulah piped, “We’ve read it bunches. I mean: Mama read it to us.” Tallulah then looked down and said, “Lilah reads it to me now that Mama is gone.”
“Wonderful! Then you can read it to me,” Daisy said eagerly handing the book to Lilah.
Lilah stood rebelliously and said, “I don’t need any friends. On n’est jamais trahi qu par les siens.” (We are always betrayed by someone close to us.) She held out her hand to her little sister. Tallulah hopped off the chair and grabbed her hand. Daisy stood in the kitchen alone again feeling great pity for the little girls, especially Lilah, who fortified her heart out of grief. Lilah left the book on the table. Daisy sat and began to read about the March sisters.
The postman arrived, interrupting Daisy’s reading, with a letter. She knew the handwriting at first glance and remembered her hastened letter sent to Charleston. She tucked the letter into her undergarment drawer without opening it. She had to focus on her urgent tasks at hand. There was no time to waste.
Compelled by the March sisters’ gumption, Daisy refused to make today a complete failure. She walked to the stables emboldened with determination. Trying her best to ignore the girls who were shocked by her appearance in their sacred space asked Silas, “Which horse can I ride?”
“You ride?”
“Bien sûr!” Daisy confirmed. Silas pointed to a nearby black horse. “Muchas gracias,” Daisy said in the best Spanish accent she could manage. Atop the horse, she saw the girls gape as she galloped away; their faces stunned by Daisy’s ability to ride and aptitude to pick up a small bit of Silas’s language already. They ran out from the stables to watch her sprint away.
Lilah smiled impishly. “Au revoir!”
Tallulah twirled around with her arms flung out, head back, and eyes closed. Lilah watched her sister dizzy herself senselessly. Tallulah tumbled down into the dirt laughing. “Au revoir!” she said waving at Daisy’s figure getting smaller and smaller in the distance.
Chapter 11
Rhett knew his weakness, rather he knew his one weakness: idleness. His father was once mayor of Charleston, being recently ousted by the up and coming Huguenot, Peter Gaillard. Huguenots, who seemed like perfectly normal people to Rhett, angered his parents who felt Charle
ston politics should remain in the hands of descendants of the English. His father desired for Rhett to take up legal practice and pursue politics, but Rhett had little inclination towards law, reading, or working, in general.
His father knew Rhett’s prime weakness too and used this knowledge to indirectly orchestrate Rhett’s life. He loved his son, despite his indolence, and in consequence used his political influence to keep him out of the war. A lazy son was better than a dead one. Rhett would never survive in grueling conditions. The boy rarely woke before noon. Idleness came with a high price tag. Only the privileged could laze about aimlessly. Without money, Rhett would need to find a vocation he was ill prepared to acquire since he was a perpetual lousy student with scant motivation to care.
Mr. Calhoun knew about Rhett and Daisy. A young man was allowed to have his dalliances. God knew he did before he married Rhett’s mother. When Rhett told him that he had plans to marry her, Calhoun could not have been more surprised. The Calhouns had been in talks with the Hampton family about their daughter, Nelly.
The Hamptons were wealthy merchants of English stock, active members of the Baptist church, and most importantly, eager to invest in Calhoun’s idea of expanding the normal everyday general store with more merchandise as he’d heard a gentleman in New York City, Alexander Turney Stewart, had done. Stewart built a department store with eight floors and nineteen departments. Eight floors were a bit much for Charleston, but their city was profitable port city. Why couldn’t a department store thrive here too? A successful department store in Charleston would bring acclaim and praise for Calhoun, which would ultimately mean he could be elected again.
Calhoun advised Rhett plainly that if he married Daisy Manigault, he would promptly be cut from of any financial ties to the family. He could move out into the world with his wife, find a job, and raise a household on his own. He reminded Rhett that Daisy’s family was not keen to the custom of extravagant dowries so he hoped Rhett had plans for some kind of occupational advancement.
Daddy Plus One: A Single Dad Secret Baby Billionaire Romance Page 15