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The station manager for the stage coach operation did not waste any time putting me to work. He issued me a duck cloth duster, a regular cotton duster... a double barreled shotgun with a sixteen inch barrel and a bandolier with thirty brass shotgun shells, then led me to the bunkhouse to meet the other drivers and guards. The men I met were a hard and coarse bunch. I thought it just my luck that I was teamed up to the hardest and coarsest of them for my first run. My new partner was a wiry,. I had been so preoccupied with thinking about the scooter and how to get home, that I didn’t realize how completely soaked I was. Fortunately, as I always do while on village assignments, I was wearing a very conservative salwar-kameez (google it if you don’t know what that is), with a long scarf around my neck and chest. But even so, being as soaked as I was, the fabric was hugging some curves of my body more tightly than it ever would.Nothing too scandalous, mind you, but I am sure it was. “What did you call me?” Jake’s hand was on the small of my back. My face was near the floor, I could make this better. “I called you Master. Don’t you think this would be better if I was turned around so I can suck Addison’s cock?” I yelped as he brought his palm down on my ass, causing an echo in the room. Very quickly I was flipped around and had my face buried in the crotch of Addison’s pants. I let out a deep hot breath on Addison’s hard cock through his pants; he let out a harsh breath. The first dozen or so times it was with call girls. The sexual release was there, but after the first half dozen I realized that something was missing. There was no emotional involvement. The girls at least pretended they like it and two of them were good at faking an orgasm, but you knew in your mind that they were just lying there waiting for you to get off so they could leave and move on to their next customer. I needed more than that. I wasn't looking for love or long term fulfillment, but.
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