Thursday, December 26, 2024

The Tinker’s Career: Part 4

Meeting the needs of the patrons.

Based on a post by ron de, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



Grace chuckled.

"He is skilled at mending holes in buckets, but he is not very skilled in other things. He does not understand how the two of us may live here together without a man."

Elizabeth smiled.

"Such would believe any man. They are so proud of their own abilities they could not listen to an alternative."

I felt the need to interrupt. I was more than willing to listen.

"Elizabeth, if I may call you by that name, I assure you that though I am of few years, I am not of a closed mind. I simply said to Grace that there were tasks I believed a woman not capable of doing. Just before you arrived, she was telling me there was a task a woman could not do."

Grace chuckled.

"Johnathan, I did not say a woman could not do that task. I only asked if you believed so. You did not answer my question. That leads me to believe you were schooled in the ways of taking care of buckets and pots, but not schooled in the ways of taking care of women."

That statement made me feel as if Grace thought me to be uneducated in anything other than tinker work, and the rashness of youth took away my propriety.

"I have a very good understanding of how to take care of women. I was taught such by a woman."

Elizabeth's eyes opened wide.

"Oh. And just what did this woman teach you, cooking and sewing, or perhaps, how to do what a woman needs at times, the times she need to have her passions aroused and then relieved?"

I realized then that I had talked myself into a position from which there was no escape. I could not lie without implying my ignorance and speaking the truth could very well give both women an offence. Still, my father had always stressed that truth is always a better course to steer than a lie.

"Yes, she taught me the ways to increase her passions until they were relieved, and it is without boasting that I say I was an apt student. Many times she related to me the same. It is how a woman might have her passions aroused and then relieved without a man that I do not understand. No woman has the, shall we say, the proper tools for the task.

"My teacher in these matters said all women have this need, yet Grace told me that you do not wish to have a man. I am at a loss to understand that as well."

Grace smiled then.

"Young Johnathan, you misunderstood my statement. We do not wish for a man to live with us. The reason for this is both Elizabeth and I were sold by our husbands at the market just as were cattle. Do not look so shocked. Such is a common happening because there is no other way for a man and wife to separate. It is not entirely according to the law, but the law is overlooked in cases such as this.

"We had met previously, and had decided we did not wish to live with our husbands. My husband had a mistress in the town, and Elizabeth's husband was not at all kind to her. Our fathers paid two of their male friends to purchase us and then allow us to go where we would. That place to which we went was this small farm owned by my family and why we do not wish to be married once again.

"While we did somewhat miss the attentions of a man at times, we soon discovered that it is not a requirement to have a cock to arouse and then relieve our passions. Women are perfectly capable of accomplishing that, both by themselves and with each other. That is not to say we would refuse the attentions of a man who did not stay though, were he to be a kind man of sufficient skill. Might you be one of those men?"

Well, as the old saying goes, I could have been laid low by the single stroke of a goose quill. My situation had been changed from one somewhat irksome in nature to one in which two women were essentially requesting to sample my skills in the art of lovemaking. I was at a loss to answer that request, for though I understood how to satisfy one woman, I had never before been with two.

Elizabeth sensed my confusion, and also chuckled.

"Grace, I do believe you have dumbfounded this man. Perhaps we should take him inside lest he begin stumbling around aimlessly. Once inside, perhaps we should add to his knowledge of women, their needs, and how they may satisfy those needs."

I was not as Elizabeth had said, not at the very second, but upon entering their house, I certainly became so. Elizabeth led me into the bedroom I assumed was shared by them both as the only other rooms were a large kitchen and a parlor of sorts. Elizabeth held my hand while Grace unbuttoned the bodice of the simple housedress she wore. Upon pulling the two halves apart, I could see her large, heavy breasts and those heavy breasts caused my cock to begin rising. After Elizabeth assisted Grace in removing the dress, I discovered she wore nothing, not even a chemise, underneath. The sight of the thick mass of hair on her mound, the color of which matched the blonde hair on her head, caused my cock to further stiffen.

My arousal was seen by Elizabeth who stroked the bulge in my trousers and then laughed.

"Grace, I do believe you have this man's attention. Shall we see his reaction to two women without clothing?"

Moments later, Elizabeth was also naked. The hairs on her mound were a bit longer than Grace's, but matched the dark brown hair on her head. Her breasts, as I had thought, were smaller than Grace's, but not as small as I had imagined. They were merely somewhat flatter than had been Estelle's and therefore did not push out the front of her dress.

My cock was fearfully extended by that time and being confined in my trousers had commenced to be painful. Grace took it upon herself to remedy that situation. She unlaced the front of my trousers and then pulled them down. My stiff cock bobbed free and she smiled.

"Elizabeth, I believe we have found us a proper tool to stir our passions. Shall we see if his skills are as he boasts?"

As Elizabeth removed my boots and my trousers while Grace pulled my shirt over my head, I was still unsure of what course to follow. Were I to apply my knowledge to one, would the other not feel left out of the pleasure?

That uncertainty was rendered moot when the two women pulled me down on the bed between them. Grace nestled her breasts into my side, while Elizabeth guided my hand to the long teat on her right breast. I began stroking that breast and teat as Estelle had enjoyed, and was then surprised to feel Grace's hand sliding down my side to my cock. She gently stroked my length for a moment or two and then pulled Elizabeth's hand to do the same. Her own hand then began stroking between Elizabeth's slender thighs.

Elizabeth opened her thighs with a sigh and I watched as Grace slowly pushed her finger into the mass of dark brown hair.

What followed is confusing to me even to this day. It seemed that the two women's hands were stroking my cock one moment and then caressing each other the next. As I was lying on my back between them, I could see the delicate touches each made to the other. I also felt the warmth of their lips and tongues as they took turns kissing me and each other.

Elizabeth stroked the blonde curls between Grace's thighs, but then guided my hand to the same spot. Shortly after that, I found both my hands cupping the soft lips of each woman and then the slippery wetness inside their portals. They were not to leave that as their only arousal though. Each was gently caressing the breasts and teats of the other while my finger stroked the rippled inner lips and little button of each.

Their hands, sometimes both at once, on my cock was causing me to thrust into their gentle grasp. After a few of these strokes, and I confess, a few moans from me, Elizabeth threw her thigh over me and then rose on her knees. I felt Grace grasp my rigid cock and then the wet warmth as my cock entered Elizabeth's portal.

The fit was snug, snug enough I again groaned. Elizabeth chuckled and continued to ease her body down over my cock. When she was sitting on my thighs, I saw Grace pinch Elizabeth's left nipple and then give it a little tug. Elizabeth's body jerked and she moaned, then began raising and lowering herself over my cock. With every lowering, she would rock her hips and I would feel the little button raking down the topside of my cock. The change in angle also forced my cock into intimate contact with the ripples of Elizabeth's passage.

I was coming rapidly to the point of no return, when Elizabeth gasped, pushed herself down quickly over my cock and then dropped down to catch her weight on her hands. I felt a flow of wetness and then the tightening of her portal around my shaft. Elizabeth cried out and then began rocking her body rapidly over my cock. I could hold back no longer and thrust my cock up quickly. As Elizabeth continued to rock her body and make little mewing sounds, I filled her gripping passage with my seed.

After several moments, Elizabeth rolled to her side. She was still breathing rapid, shallow breaths, but she managed to say, "Grace, this tool is indeed an excellent tool. Let us cause it to stand up again that you may sample this man's skills."

I was not hopeful my cock would stand up very quickly again. After satisfying Emily's desires three times and now satisfying Elizabeth, I felt it would take an hour or more. I had not estimated the shortening of time caused by what Elizabeth and Grace did next.

Grace climbed over me to lie beside Elizabeth, and promptly took Elizabeth's right nipple between her lips and began to suckle. Elizabeth's belly tightened and she gasped, but then began using her finger to penetrate Grace's sex. Soon, Grace was moaning and rocking her hips into Elizabeth's finger. That was when the two women kissed, and that kiss was so absolutely erotic, my cock began to swell again.

It continued to swell as I watched Elizabeth lift her head and clasp Grace's left teat between her lips. Grace shuddered a little, then shuddered a lot because when Elizabeth opened her lips, I saw she had Grace's teat pinched between her teeth. Elizabeth pulled her face back slightly, Grace shuddered again, and then whispered, "Johnathan, I am ready for your cock now."

I had assumed Grace would either mount me as had Elizabeth or lid down on her back, but she did neither. She rose onto her hands and then spread her legs wide. Elizabeth urged me to a position behind Grace, and then guided my cock to Grace's portal. As I sank into her satin smooth and rippled passage, Elizabeth lay down and scooted her head under Grace's breasts.

As I pumped away inside Grace, I could hear the wet noises that could only mean Elizabeth was suckling Grace's teats. A moment later, Grace shuddered as she had before and pushed her body back into my stroke quickly enough my sack bumped against her mound. I could only assume that Elizabeth was once again nipping at Grace's teats.

While the stimulation of Grace's snug portal and rippled passage were extremely arousing, that stimulation was muted a bit by my having spent my seed once already. As a result, I continued to pump my cock in and out of Grace and Grace continued to moan and thrust her body back into my strokes.

That changed some time later when I felt a finger massaging the little button between Grace's thick, swollen lips and just under my stroking cock. Not long after I felt that finger, Grace arched her back, cried out, and began to sink down on the bed. I held her up with both hands as her thighs quivered, and at the same time as Grace began to rock her portal over my cock, I let the first spurt fly up my shaft and inside her. Grace's thighs were yet quivering as a leaf in a breeze when I shot my last.

After my cock slipped from the slippery embrace of Grace's passage, she fell down on the bed, rolled onto her back, and sighed.

"Such a tool would be welcome were it not attached to a man, though I could welcome this man to our house for longer than one morning. Perhaps a week might satisfy my desire to feel a man inside me."

Elizabeth stroked Grace's mound and then kissed her on the lips. When Elizabeth pulled away, she smiled.

"I am certain he will leave us, but perhaps he would consent to pay us a visit in the future. Now that we have taught him about two women, he might welcome the opportunity to exercise his new skills.";

I did have to leave if I was to reach Whitchurch before the weekend. It was with some reluctance that I did so, but also with some relief. While making love with both Grace and Elizabeth had been an experience well worth remembering, I feared that I could not give equal attention to them both in the longer term. At some point, I would anger one by seeming to favor the other, and that would mean an end to their arrangement.

It was also a relief for my poor cock. In two days, I had asked much of it, and though it had performed admirably according to the women, I felt a rest was very much in order.

To that end, as I continued my journey towards Whitchurch, I was careful to stop only at the various inns along the roadway. These stops proved to be more to the advantage of my purse, as the inns made rough usage of their pots and pans. I was able to add twelve pence to my coin after stopping at three inns.

At last, six days after beginning my journey, I pushed my cart through the streets of Whitchurch and then on toward my old home.;

My arrival was greeted with some fanfare. My father shook my hand and told me he was proud of my accomplishment. My mother embraced me until I thought I should die from lack of breath, and she fairly soaked my shirt with her tears. My brother, Edward, wiped the muck from his hands on his trousers and then embraced me as well, though he shed no tears. That evening, my mother prepared a dinner that was an especial favorite of mine, a chicken pot pie filled with the meat of a hen, the yolks of the immature eggs of the same hen, and pease and carrots.

While I was happy to be home with my family again, I had no desire to continue living with them. I was now a grown man and had the skills to earn my own way in life instead of being an imposition upon my parents. There was also the issue of proximity to potential customers. I did not have sufficient funds to arrange for a shop of my own in the nearest town, that being Whitchurch. I would have to ply my trade as my title suggested. A journeyman was so named because he journeyed around a given area offering his skills. Living with my family would require pushing my cart an unnecessary distance each day.

Toward both ends, I walked to Whitchurch the next day with the goal of securing boarding for myself. Whitchurch would become my new home as well as the center of my travels through the countryside.

Finding a suitable accommodation was not difficult. Finding a suitable accommodation with a suitable price was somewhat more of a challenge. What I desired was one room with a bed and the availability of a meal, morning and evening.

My expectation, developed by an understanding of the amount of work done by Master Eaton and the relative size of the area around Whitchurch compared to Honiton, was that my income would be about six pence a day, or the sum of three shillings a week. I was prepared to pay half that for my room and board, the other half being saved for purchase of a proper shop.

I was able to find several rooms at the price of two shillings a week, but I declined to take up those proposals. It was late in the afternoon and I was preparing to return to my father's home when I chanced upon a small paper notice attached to the door of a small house at the very edge of Whitchurch. The paper proclaimed a room was available in that house for the price of a shilling and a half per week. Upon seeing this notice, I presented myself at the door.

The woman who answered my knock was not as I had expected. Most rooms available were in houses owned by older people. They had no source of income other than furnishing a room or two for those unable to afford the price of a house. It was that situation which I sought, for older people were generally quiet types and would not disturb me as would a couple with several children.

This woman was not so old as I had thought would be the case. Neither, however, was she young. I could discern that by the lines at her eyes and the corners of her mouth. What struck me as odd, concerning those fine lines, was the shape of her figure, or at least as much of her figure as I could imagine given her dress. The slope of her breasts peeked from under the neckline of her bodice and her waist was smaller by far than her hips.

At that hour of the day, most husbands would have been at home and waiting to dine on an even meal, but I could see the table in her kitchen was set for just one place. She was evidently unmarried, and the reason was most likely her face.

She was not what I would describe as an ugly woman. It was more that her eyes seemed to be very open and her nose very large. I believed her to be one of those women not pretty enough to attract the attentions of a suitor when young. Such women were not all that rare, and often passed through life alone. After a certain age, such women were nearing the end of their child bearing years and a man wanted sons to carry on after him. I was very curious to learn of her past, though, of course, I could not ask that question as I had just met her.

I introduced myself and inquired as to if the room was still available. The woman said it was and led me through her home to a small room at the back.

"This used to be my father's room", she said. "He went to his reward last month." As he and my mother had no son, the house became mine. I am lonely of a night, and decided to let out his room that I might have some company."

I was not looking for company of an evening, but the price was very tempting. I asked the woman if a morning and evening meal would be included in the price. She nodded.

"My fare will not be that of the wealthy in Whitchurch, but you shall not starve."

The bargain was struck that very afternoon. I returned home for my cart and other belongings, and by nightfall, I was sitting upon the bed in my room and planning my activities for the next day.;

Over the next several weeks, I learned once again the wisdom of my father. Whitchurch, being rather small as cities go, had no tinker in residence. As a result, the women of Whitchurch and the surrounding area were forced to use pots and pans with rusted places or purchase new. Rusted places in some cases spoiled the taste of food, and though the new factories were producing new pots and pans at lower cost than most Master tinkers, the price was still high considering most household incomes.

I was able to increase my purse more quickly than I had planned, and was looking forward to perhaps another year or two before I could afford the rental for a small shop.

Now, also because Whitchurch was small and most people knew what the others were doing, I was very careful not to engage in the activities I had enjoyed with Emily, Elizabeth, and Grace. Such carryings on would have ruined my business if not had me cast out of the city. I did yearn to dip my wick in many of the women I encountered in my travels though, and the opportunity did present itself upon several occasions.

The wife of the town blacksmith seemed particularly interested in what she stated were my "skills with the tool God gave me". As she was stroking her breast through her bodice at the time, I was very aware of her meaning. I also was very aware that her husband, though of about fifty years in age to her twenty-five, was as strong as a heavy draft horse and could probably crush me to a pulp without even dampening his shirt with sweat.

Of particular interest to me was the wife of the town minister. One would think the wife of a minister would be as pure as the dew that jeweled the grass of a spring morning, but Florence Anderson was anything but. That was because her husband was likewise not so pure.

When I called at the minister's home and asked if she had any pots that required mending, she said she indeed did and fetched her soup kettle. After I had repaired the small spot, Florence smiled.

"Would that you could mend another problem I have. I would be more grateful than you could ever imagine."

I asked what that problem might be, and Florence was very forthcoming in her answer.

"My husband is away tending to the needs of his flock every day and not tending my needs. I need not tell you what those needs are. Suffice it to say that I have a need to have my fires stirred upon occasion but my husband's poker seems to grow limp as soon as he enters the house. I suspect it is so out of overuse, as the women of his flock appear to always smile at him after the Sunday sermon. Surely, you would not object to stirring my fires that they may not go out forever."

Florence was sitting down at the time, and after making that statement, she raised her skirts enough I could see the sparse, yellow hairs that guarded her portal.

She gave me a sly grin then.

"I can promise you my fires become very hot when stirred, hot enough to make a tinker very happy."

Well, I pretended not to understand and bid her a good day. The prospect of stirring her fires remained in my mind for the rest of the day though, and that night, I went to the privy and thought about parting those yellow hairs with my cock. My seed was quickly spilled and gave me some relief.;

During those weeks, I also learned the story of my landlady.

Her name was Ester Rhodes, and her father had been a seller of cloth in Whitchurch. Most women made the clothing worn by their family just as Estelle had made my shirts and trousers, but unlike the women of the countryside, had no sheep for wool or flax to spin into linen. Ester's father had earned a sizeable income by selling woven wool and linen cloth to the people of Whitchurch. He had purchased the house in which Ester now lived, and had married soon after.

Ester was their only child, her mother having died soon after giving her life, so she had grown up in the care of a nanny. I gathered that this nanny was, prior to being employed by Ester's father, a woman of somewhat dubious character. Ester made mention that her father had met "Ginny", as she called the woman, when she was working in a ale house, and Ester suspected ale was not all she served the male patrons.

She suspected that because her father kept Ginny in his employ long after Ester was able to care for herself, and because sometimes after she retired to her own bed, she would hear odd noises coming from the bedroom her father used.

Ester told me she held no ill feelings about her father's conduct. She said he was only a man with a man's needs and she could not cast blame on him for seeing to those needs. She also had kind words to say about Ginny. She said Ginny had taught her how to be a woman and for that she would be forever grateful though she had never had the opportunity to use that knowledge.

I had wondered often that Ester had no husband, but had reasoned that was because of her face. Ester admitted as much to me after I had lived with her for three weeks.

"Johnathan, you must be curious as to why I have no husband. I will tell you my thoughts on the matter that your curiosity will be satisfied. As you can plainly see, I am not a beautiful woman, nor am I even a pretty woman. Ginny explained to me that I would have difficulty finding a husband, but that were I to find work in an ale house, the difficulty would be eased.

"I did attempt to do so, and I did receive more than one offer of marriage, but when those offers were rendered, they were accompanied by the fondling of my body. Ginny had said that would happen, but something in my mind told me that a man who would do such a thing in view of others was not a man I would trust as a husband. Now that I am too old to attract those offers and fondling, I often wish I had not been so selective. Alas, it is too late for regrets now. I have accepted the fate of a spinster and never having been truly a woman."

I did feel sorrow for her state of mind. It did not seem fair that only because of a mistaken stoke of nature's brush Ester had been forced down this path. As I said, she was not an ugly woman. She was just different than most. It was not until one evening that I realized she was different in other ways than her appearance.

Ester's bedroom shared a wall with mine, and after our supper that night, I prepared to go to Ester's room to settle my accounts with her. When I was counting out my coins, I heard the sounds I had heard other women make when they were skewered on my cock and nearing their end.

At first I thought perhaps Ester had at last found her a man, but reasoned that could not be the case. If she had done so, I would have heard the man enter the house. I had heard nor seen nothing of the sort since returning from my travels. That made me think of how I relieved my own passions when the need arose. Surely that was what Ester was doing.

I sat there as quiet as a mouse and listened to the quiet moans she made, and as I did so, my cock began to rise. I could tell by the frequency of her moans that Ester was reaching her peak, but did not expect to hear her low voice say these words.

"Johnathan, do not pause for I am near my final moment".

A moment later, I heard a quiet little shriek and then the rustle of the bedclothes. After that was silence save the sound of deep breathing. I smiled at the thought that Ester had said my name. Did she know another man named Johnathan, or could it be that she was thinking of me at the moment her passions exploded?

As I thought about that, I envisioned Ester lying on her bed, naked, and with her fingers both pulling her teats and stroking in and out of her portal. My cock was still stiff, so I did as I had done on other occasions. I unlaced my trousers to free it and then began stoking my length.

My intention was to only heighten my arousal before I made a trip to the privy for the ultimate release. The vision in my head overpowered my will though, and suddenly, I was at the point. I quickly covered my cock with a handkerchief just as the first rush of seed flew from the slit in the tip. Three more followed that first spurt before I ceased my stroking and lay back on the bed. Shortly after that, I fell asleep and did not wake until the morning.

As part of our bargain, Ester had said that since she had so little washing to do for herself, she would include washing my clothing along with hers. That next day was her washing day. After the morning meal of oats and cream, I went on my walk to the houses outside Whitchurch. I had forgotten about the handkerchief. When I returned that night, my shirt and trousers were lying on my bed and smelling of the soap Ester used. My handkerchief was lying beside them, also clean and neatly folded.

At once I realized what I had done and what Ester had seen when she washed my things. Perhaps she would not mention it, but if she did, what could I say? If I said I was thinking of her and my passions took me away, she would only ask why I thought of her in that way. I could not very well explain that I had heard her reaching her peak. She would have thought me a man of improper ways and probably made me leave her house.

Ester said nothing while we ate supper. I went to my room and retrieved the coin I owed her for a week's room and board while she washed up the pot and bowls. Upon my return to the kitchen, I presented her with my coins and attempted to divert her thoughts with flattery.

"Ester, I believe this is what is your due for the room and your excellent meals.

Ester smiled, took my coins, and placed them in a small jar in her cupboard, then turned back to me.

"I am fortunate to have such a fine young man as a border in my home. I must admit I was somewhat reluctant to have a young man living with me. I feared that you would be as many young men are. I feared you might bring young girls to entertain here. I was wrong in that assumption, for you have done nothing of the sort. I do wonder the reason though. Do you not enjoy the company of young girls?"

I was truthful when I responded that I was not yet in a position to entertain the idea of a wife and so had not been seeking a girl. Ester smiled then.

"I have no doubt you will make some woman a fine husband one day, but in your current state, you must have some method of stifling the urges Ginny told me all young men have."

I said I was not certain as to which urges she referred to which Ester replied, "The urge to couple. Do you not have those urges?"

That was the question I feared. Ester must have examined my handkerchief before putting it into the washing and surmised how it came to be filled with my seed. Thinking I could embarrass Ester into ceasing her questions, I decided to ask her the question in reverse.

"Yes, I have those urges, and I relieve those urges myself. It is my understanding that all people who lack a lover, both men and women, do likewise. Is that not the case?"

Ester's answer left me speechless for a time.

"I can not speak for all women, but I believe you already know the answer in my case; just as I know the answer you did not give me."

To be continued in part 5, by ron de for Literotica.