Mrs. Babcock

by weyland

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Heterosexual, True Story, .

Desc: True Sex Story: A young man's education in sex in a southern brothel



Chapter One

"How in hell could you spend an entire summer working in Evansville and not save a penny?"

My mother was on me again. She'd bring this up whenever she couldn't think of anything else to pick a fight about. She'd been doing this since I went back to college my junior year - without having saved anything. That was 1963; now it was 1995.


In the summer of 1963 I'd gotten a job working as a draftsman for an engineer for the summer. My folks were just moving to Chicago from Evansville because my father changed jobs. I was nineteen years old. I stayed behind in a small apartment. living on my own for the first time, cooking, doing my own laundry. I was even able to buy beer when I bought my week's groceries at a small mom-and-pop grocery in the neighborhood. I'm sure they knew that I wasn't old enough, but they let me get a six-pack when I bought my food. If a guy is living on his own, I guess they figured I deserved a beer with my dinner. They never asked and I never said.

I'd had a girlfriend that last winter at school, but we broke up in the Spring and now I was truly alone and I was having a problem with the loneliness - and honestly, I was horny. I wondered if I could find a hooker, but there really weren't any streetwalkers in the town and I didn't know where to look until someone suggested I ask the bellman at one of the local hotels.

Leroy said he could get me a woman, no problem. What was my room number? When I said I didn't have a room, he said that I ought to go see Mrs. Babcock on Fourth Avenue and tell her he'd sent me along. About thirty minutes later, I showed up at her door.

Mrs. Babcock was a little old white-haired lady in her seventies. It was a bit disconcerting; she reminded me of my grandmother. When I said that Leroy suggested I come see her, she invited me in.

The house was a small one with a living room off the hall. The television was on and Mrs. Babcock and a woman of about 25 had been watching a sitcom. Mrs. Babcock introduced her to me as Rita. I was introduced to her as Dave (the name I gave).

Rita took my hand and lead me to a rear bedroom containing a double bed, two dressers and a chair and asked me what I wanted. I told her I wanted sex and she said that it cost $10 which I gave her. She left me there for a few moments and them returned with a pan of warm soapy water. "I need to see your dick babe," she said. I realized she wanted to check me for VD. I was nervous, but I unzipped and produced my package. Rita smiled at me and stroked me a few times.

Satisfied that I didn't appear to have anything obviously wrong with me, she gently washed me off and dried me with a small hand towel. She was wearing a house dress which she had undone when she got the wash basin. She wore nothing underneath it. It was then I really started to look at her. She was about 5' 4", slim with nice breasts and light brown shoulder-length hair. I noticed that she had a recently healed scar across her belly just above her pubic hair. Her face and body weren't what I'd have called beautiful, but she was certainly not unattractive. She was just a young woman with flaws like everybody else.

While I finished undressing, Rita got on top of the bed and sat waiting for me. I dug a condom out of my pants pocket and followed. She took it from me, tore it open and expertly rolled it on, lay back and held out her arms to me. I mounted her and began sliding in and out.

As I lay on her, we looked into each other's eyes. Not knowing that you weren't supposed to kiss a prostitute, I did and she kissed me back slipping her tongue into my mouth. When we pulled apart, Rita smiled up at me and said, "I'm glad you did that." I smiled back. "My pleasure" I said. I liked her and she seemed to like me. We continued to push into each other, alternately kissing and smiling until I was about to cum.

When I told Rita that I was almost there, she reached down, grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled me further up and in and then began rolling her hips front to back. This caused her cervix to rub back and forth over the head of my penis creating the most exquisite climax I've ever had. I'd never felt anything like that before. I moaned uncontrollably as I emptied into her.

We rolled apart breathing hard and before I got dressed, Rita took the basin and again washed my cock and dried it with another hand towel. I thanked her and left feeling that this was a very civilized way to deal with being horny. It was a warm Wednesday evening in June and the crickets were chirping as I walked home.


Chapter Two: My Second Visit

The following Tuesday was payday and I went back to Mrs. Babcock's right after work. It was early in their day. I was their first customer that day, it being about 4:30 PM. Mrs. B. let me in with a friendly smile and called Rita. Rita took my hand and lead me back to her room again.

I gave Rita her $10 and she gave me a hug and a grin and went to give Mrs. B. the money and to get the basin. She returned again with the back of her dress undone and as soon as I finished getting my pants off, she washed me again with soap and dried me. "What do you want to do this time?" she asked as she sat up on the bed.

I'd thought about this. I looked Rita square in the eye and said "I want you to teach me something." Rita raised her eyebrows. "Teach me how to be real good at eating pussy. I really like doing it, but most of the gals I've done it for hadn't done it often. They liked what I did, but we were like the blind leading the blind," I told her.

Rita gave me a long look and a big smile and asked, "you want me to show you how to do it right?" I nodded. She said "I can't do it all in one go. It takes time and there's more to it than you'd think. You sure you want this?" Again I nodded.

She got off the bed, pulled on her house dress and went to talk to Mrs. Babcock for a moment. When she returned, she said she'd gotten us a little slack on the time. I later found out that she'd given Mrs. B. her half of my $10 to double the time we had.

Rita got back on the bed on her knees and gave me a big hug and a french kiss that would knock your socks off. Then she lay down with her legs spread and pulled me down on top of her for another lingering kiss. "First lesson" she said, "work your way down from here. Take your time; use your tongue and kiss me all over." She guided me down to her breasts and had me stop to love each nipple as her breathing became faster. Then she pushed me down to her navel and had me french kiss it for some time. She said, "too many guys go straight for a woman's pussy. Don't be in a rush; take the whole tour." Then she guided me down one leg to her right knee and then back up her left leg and finally held me over her pussy. She smelled of soap.

I think I should say at this point that Rita was one of the cleanest women I've ever known. She kept herself as if everyone she met would be closely examining her nether regions. I think that while she was working, Rita made personal hygiene a way of life.

She told me to stop and examine everything closely. She had me suck and lick her pubes, labia, back towards her asshole and finally her pussy and clit. She said to lick and suck in and around her pussy because it felt good, but for the real 'money shot", I should GENTLY lick and suck her clit. She slowly moved my head all over her pussy area having me work on her until she gradually had me pay more and more attention to her clit until she came, squeezing my head with her thighs until she became too sensitive. Then she pulled me up guiding me into her. To hell with the rubber! I'd just had my face in her pussy. If she had anything, I guess I'd have it too. While we screwed, Rita cleaned my face with her tongue and french-kissed me until I came inside her as she held me close. Again, she moved her cervix back and fourth over the end of me. It may have begun as a financial arrangement, but I think we parted as lovers.


Chapter Three: My Third Visit

I scrimped on groceries and went to see Rita on Saturday about 11:00 AM. Again, I wanted to be her first customer of the day. If I was going to get another 'lesson', I didn't want to be second. Mrs. Babcock met me at the door. She didn't look happy. "C'mon back in the kitchen," she said. I followed her back. Evidently they'd been having breakfast. Mrs. Babcock sat me down, poured me a cup of coffee and stared at me for a full minute.

"How much do you make a week?" she demanded.

"Forty dollars," I answered.

"You've spent twenty here in the last ten days. You gonna live on dog food?"

"I'm okay," I lied.

"Bull!" she said. "I'll not have you spending all your money in my whorehouse and not taking care of yourself. From how on, you're on a diet!" Rita looked uncomfortable. Mrs. Babcock went on. "I don't want to see more than ten dollars of your money every two weeks!" Both Rita and I must have looked stricken.

"Tell you what," Mrs. Babcock continued, "I don't care if you can talk Rita into giving you freebies when business is slow, like Saturdays before about three or weekdays before supper, but don't you be botherin' her when there's paying customers in here. Okay?" "Yes'm" I said. "Now you two get out of here while I wash up," she said and Rita and I went back to her room for another lesson. "And from now on you can call me Sarah." she hollered after us.

After we'd gotten undressed, Rita got up on her hands and knees and said "this time, eat me from behind." I'd never done this before. As I said earlier, Rita was a very clean woman. I've never been squeamish, but learning to give her a rim job was a challenge for me at that time in my life. Her personal hygiene made it a lot easier.

I licked her from behind and then lay on my back as she sat on my face and gave me a blow job. I'd heard about 69ing, but doing it with Rita was a lot of fun. Then we screwed each other repeatedly. Finally about 1:30, we'd worn each other out. Rita had to get cleaned up before the customers arrived and I couldn't have gotten it up again with a block and tackle.

As I was heading for the door, Mrs. Babcock (Opps! Sarah) called me back into the kitchen and gave me another cup of coffee. We sat there talking about ourselves until the customers became a steady flow about 4:00 PM. I told her about my studies and the fact that I was in ROTC at school. The Vietnam war was in the very early stages. We had a few "advisors" there, but no troops as yet. This troubled her.

I asked her how she'd come to own "this business". She looked me and said, "You mean 'this whorehouse'?" I said that I hadn't wanted to put it that way but yes. She said that was a long story and to ask her that over breakfast next Saturday. I guess she figured I'd be there.


Chapter Four

So our relationship changed. I was seeing Rita, mostly on Saturday mornings. Gradually it became a sort of routine. I'd get there about 10:00 AM and Mrs. Babcock would let me in and I'd help them make breakfast and we'd all three pitch in and eat it. Then I'd help with the washing up and Rita and I would go off to her room for more lessons. Then I'd sit and talk with Sarah until the paying company showed up.

That next time, when Rita and I got on the bed, she had me eat her in the usual way until she came. Then she said she wanted sex. I asked if I should put on a rubber and she said "No. You're my boyfriend. You don't have to use rubbers with me."

She wanted me to give it her missionary style and so we settled into a slow, comfortable screw (I've always liked the name of that drink). We french kissed and tongued each other's ears and generally had a wonderful time. Finally she came again and I exploded into her.

When the dust had settled, she looked up at me and said "ready for the next lesson" "If it involves an erection, you'll have to wait awhile. I'm not Superman you know." Rita grinned and asked "You know what a creampie is?" I didn't.

Rita had me lie on my back and close my eyes. I felt her moving around and suddenly her hairy cleft was on my face. "Eat me!" she said. She was sitting on my mouth looking down at me trying to judge my reaction. I started sucking on her pussy and clit as we watched each other's faces. I've always liked to look in my partner's eyes when she comes. It's neat to watch her expression as she loses control in her climax. Most people close their eyes when they cum; Rita would try to keep hers open and share the experience with me.

I watched her eyes lose focus as she came. Her expression shifted from intent to amazed to ecstatic as I sucked on her pussy and cleaned her. At last she slid down onto me and we held each other.

"You two okay in there?" Sarah called from the parlor. "Sounds like you're killing each other." "We're fine" Rita panted. "Thanks anyway." She licked my face clean again.

That day, Sarah began to tell me about her life over coffee. She loved coffee. I learned to drink it from her.

Sarah Collins was born in May of 1890 in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. Her father was a [blacksmith] who'd come there from Atlanta after the Civil War. In 1908, she'd married Charlie Babcock who had come to work in her dad's smithy. Sarah and Charlie moved to Evansville, Indiana in 1910 where he found work as a blacksmith for the railroad in town. They were living quietly and happily until World War I broke out. Charlie was called up in 1916.

In 1916, Charlie Babcock came home a broken man. A bout of rheumatic fever had all but destroyed his heart. Things were tough for a while as Charlie was too sick to go back to his old job as a blacksmith, but Sarah said he found work as a clerk somewhere and things got better. Charlie had to work evenings some, but the pay was good and he was a good man who always came home sober and didn't carouse like some men did. In 1921, he took over the business when its owner retired. Sarah wasn't too clear on just what they did.

In 1922, they had a son, James Babcock. Sarah settled into a life of domesticity. Even the Great Depression didn't seem to affect them much.

Then in 1932, there came a knock at the door. Charlie had collapsed on the street with a heart attack. He was dead when he reached the hospital. Sarah Babcock was a widow with a ten year old son in the depth of the hard times.

It was then that she found out what her husband did for a living.


Chapter Five

The next weekend was Fourth of July Weekend. I arrived at Mrs. Babcock's about 10:00.

Mrs. B let me in and when we sat down to breakfast she said, "We won't be open today. What with the holiday, everybody's going to spend it with their families. No sense in opening. Besides, Rita's on vacation. Rita was sitting right there. I didn't understand and I guess it showed. Rita said "It's my period. Normally Sarah would bring in someone else this week, but since it's Independence Day Weekend, we just won't open." Sarah said " Holidays can be hard on the girls. All the customers spend the day with their families and things can get quiet and lonely in a brothel. Christmas was the worst."

I asked Rita if she had plans for the day and she said " why?" I asked her if she'd like to go to a movie today and then see the fireworks show in the evening with me.

She seemed surprised. "You want to go out with me?" I said "Sure, why not? Normally you're working evenings, but if you're off, why don't we go out - or am I too young for you?"

Sarah said "Go on Rita. You ought to get out and I'm too old for running around in the crowd to see fireworks."

So Rita and I went to the matinee at the movie theater. To this day I have no idea what was playing. Then we bought hot dogs at a stand and went to the park and watched fireworks. As the day went on Rita seemed to grow younger and more playful. We held hands as I walked her home.

At the door she said "I'd ask you in, but..."

"But what?"

"It's my period silly!"

"It isn't a problem for me. Does it bother you?"

"Well, no, - but it's kinda messy."

"Got a spare towel?"

Silence. "Get in here you."

I staggered home on Sunday morning. After screwing each other's ears off, we took a shower together, got horny again and had to take another shower and ended up sleeping together. Ah the enthusiasm of youth! Sarah just shook her head and fed us breakfast.


Chapter Six

The next Saturday I showed up at Mrs. Babcock's as usual. Rita wasn't there. Sarah invited me in and we sat down to a breakfast of steak and eggs. I asked where Rita was and Sarah said "Rita is married. Her husband's a drunk. He got arrested in a bar fight in February and got himself six months in the County jail. She came to me because she really couldn't get any other work. The idiot got out of jail a few days ago and they took off for Detroit. She asked me to give you this." She handed me an envelope. It was a note:

"Dear Dave,

I'm sorry to leave without telling you, but I think it's better this way. Sarah will explain it to you.

I want to thank you for treating me like a person instead of a whore. You were a good friend when I really needed someone - a smile and some good loving when I was all alone. I'll always remember that. You're just starting out in life and you have a lot to learn yet, but please, please don't ever lose your openness and your warmth. I really hope that life deals you a better hand than what I got.

Please don't try to find me. It would hurt too much.

Love,
Rita"

I just sat there and stared at it. I didn't know what to say. We ate in silence.

Finally Sarah said "Have you ever wondered why I took an interest in you? You remind me of my son James. See when Charlie died, I didn't have any idea how I was going to support us except his whorehouse and I knew nothing about running one. The cop who told me Charlie was dead and took me to the hospital told me where it was. I guess they knew all about the place. Mostly they left it alone. Charlie was always careful not to make any trouble and I later found out that he paid the local Lieutenant a few bucks a month to keep it that way.

"The next day I went down there to see what was there and I met the girls. They were all so nice to me. They even came to Charlie's funeral in their Sunday best and they all cried. One of the older ones was Corliss Walker. My god that woman was a jewel! She seemed to be like a mother hen for the other girls. If it hadn't been for her I don't know what I'd have done. Corliss kept the girls working and showed me how the business ran and she kept the books for Charlie. She also managed the place at night when Charlie was at home."

"Running this kind of place is not as easy as it seems. You have to know where to find new girls all the time because there's quite a bit of turnover. You have to know who to pay off and how much to pay them. You have to have a feel for whether or not a girl will cause you problems. You have to find a doctor to look in on you and make sure none of the girls have VD. You have to be able to deal with drunks occasionally and you have to be able to deal with the bell captains from the local hotels who send you customers."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Romantic / Heterosexual / True Story /