Her Last Trick

by Huck Pilgrim

  Pilgrim Press

  Her Last Trick © 2014 by Huck Pilgrim

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  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 language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

  Cover images courtesy of nickp37 & canstock.

  Cover by Joleene Naylor.

  Pilgrim Press

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  Her Last Trick

  Huck Pilgrim

  Copyright 2014 by Huck Pilgrim

  Smashwords Edition

  First Edition

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  Contents

  Her Last Trick

  More from Pilgrim Press

  Contact

  Introduction

  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.

  Soon she heard the mark grunt.

  He took her head in both his hands and began rocking his hips. His fingers splayed in her short, punky hair. Jenna knew what was about to happen. If she felt a little trepidation for what she was about to receive, she no longer felt self-conscious about her hair. She soon found herself wishing he would just do it. Wishing he would go in her mouth, just as he’d said he would. She promised herself she would at least taste it.

  And just as Jenna made this promise, she . . . got her wish!

  She felt the first splash of his juice at the back of her throat. It went down before she could stop it. Before she could even taste it. She felt some disappointment, but she didn’t have to wait long for a second chance. Another warm stream jetted into her mouth. She repositioned his cock and let his semen pool on her tongue.

  He grunted and milked himself.

  With his cock in her mouth, she watched his abdomen seize and release. She noted the way his tummy contracted in synchronization with the fresh sprays he added to her mouth. Soon he slowed his writhing, stopped his squirts.

  With a noisy slurp, Jenna removed his cock. She looked at him, her eyes wide. Her mouth filled with his warm, salty cum.

  “You don’t have to—”

  Jenna lowered her head and worked the muscles in her throat. She swallowed it all. Looking back up, she gasped. She rubbed her palms on the legs of his pants.

  He made a lusty growl deep in his chest.

  Jenna remained on her knees, panting. She continued to kneel to give herself time to think. She knelt to come to terms with what she had just done.

  I sucked a cock. I swallowed a mouthful of cum.

  Jenna felt a warm pride blossoming in her chest. She’d finally done it.

  For two hundred dollars.

  She felt the fat lump of bills stuffed in her shorts and thought: I’m a whore.

  Jenna winced. She bit her lip.

  A cocksucking whore.

  She swallowed to temper the taste in her mouth. She watched as he began assembling his pants. Suddenly his head jerked violently forward.

  Jenna quickly sat back on her haunches.

  The mark toppled forward, his arms rising to protect his head. Dale was on him, peppering his kidneys and head with hard thudding blows. Scrambling to safety, Jenna watched the two men go to war. She cringed when the mark connected with her brother’s head.

  But then Dale threw the big man over his shoulder, and Jenna felt a pang of something in her chest. She’d never felt anything for a mark before. He was on the ground, doubled over, his head locked between Dale’s powerful arms.

  Jenna stepped forward.

  The mark’s eyes were clenched, his face bright red with exertion. She could see a huge vein throbbing in his forehead. She reached out to him with the tips of her fingers. His eyes popped open. He looked as if he wanted to say something to her. Jenna tilted her head. She moved as close as she dared.

  For a moment,
he had the most peaceful expression.

  And then his eyes lost focus.

  He noisily exhaled.

  His eyes closed and his body went limp.

  Dale groaned with relief. He relaxed his grip. The big man’s head lolled forward, then pitched back. Jenna caught it in both her hands, a big, sweaty melon. As Dale extricated himself from his opponent, she lowered the mark’s head to the blacktop. She retrieved his shirt and used it as a pillow, nestling his head into the soft folds.