The Making of a Gigolo (15) - Agatha Roberts
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36
Chapter Twenty
Melanie felt much better. That's because this man kissed her
just perfectly. He had kissed her four or five times,
already, and his hands were sliding all over her
back. She could feel her motor
revving. Normally, that was a danger sign, but the
circumstances of this peculiar day made that okay, so she let it happen,
and enjoyed it.
Ten minutes later they were somehow on the bed, still
kissing. She wasn't sure how they'd gotten there, exactly,
but that was okay too. Now his fingers were brushing the sides
of her breasts. It was fun to let that happen too,
and not worry about it. What was the most fun,
though, was being turned on, and not being so scared by
it. She sucked at the tip of his tongue, as he
pulled back from her face.
"I like kissing you," he said.
"You're good at this," she panted.
For answer, he started kissing her neck. He got up
on his hands and knees, which startled her, but then she understood,
when he began moving his lips from one shoulder to the other, across
her upper chest. His lips dipped to her upper
cleavage, and she had to force herself to relax.
Then he was kissing her stomach, and he stuck his tongue into her belly
button.
"That tickles," she giggled, wiggling under him.
"Does this tickle?" he asked, kissing his way up the swell of one cloth
covered breast, to kiss the jutting tip of the nipple.
Her eyes opened wide. This was so new!
But it was fun too. "No," she said softly.
His fingers reached for the top of her tube top and she froze
again. He rolled it down a couple of inches, and then kissed
what he'd revealed.
"How 'bout that?" he asked, smiling up at her. "Does that
tickle?"
"No," she whispered.
He kept going, rolling the top down inch, by inch. Soon the
roll of cloth was just above her nipples. She lifted her head
and could see the brown edge of one areola.
"Now?" He kept doing that!
"No!" she said, her voice louder now.
She didn't expect him to just drag the whole top down ... to uncover
both breasts, all at once. As he had rolled the
front of the top, the back had been stuck by her body weight and now,
as his hands pulled and her breasts were suddenly bare, the back pulled
uncomfortably. It was just instinct to push into the bed with
the back of her head and arch her back, to ease the
strain. The tightly stretched material under her
snapped downward, and suddenly the tube top was wrapped around her
lower ribs.
She also wasn't ready for him to lean down and suck a nipple into his
mouth.
"Uhhhhh!," she groaned. The sweet streaks of pleasure were
like nothing she'd ever felt before. He moved to the other
one, and his fingers came to the abandoned one to squeeze and pull
gently.
"Ohhhhhh fuck," she groaned.
She was almost astonished when he raised his head and said "How 'bout
that? Does that tickle?"
"Don't stop!" she gasped, amazed that the words had come out of her
mouth.
"Okay," he said, still smiling, and went back to work on her breasts.
"I think this is going to work most well," said Jeff Hamilton, leaning
back in his chair.
"I'm glad," said a very relieved Mirriam, also
relaxing. She was a little surprised that he hadn't
bargained a little harder. He'd given her a better
deal than she'd expected. She thought about his
reference to a grant, and about how it was always easier to spend
someone else's money than your own. But that was
fine. The deal she'd struck with this man would solve all
their money problems, both for this season and beyond. "I can't thank
you enough for choosing us to serve you."
Jeff surveyed the woman sitting across from him.
They were about the same age. He glanced at her
finger. No ring. She was a handsome woman, and
intelligent. He was going to enjoy being around her
all summer. Who knew what might happen?
"Your grad students aren't back yet," said Mirriam. She was
aware of how he was looking at her. She wasn't averse to his
examination, but at the same time, she wasn't seeking anything
either. He was an interesting man, but she assumed he was
married. She had Bobby, for when she needed a man.
"They're boyfriend and girlfriend," said Jeff.
"I see," said Mirriam.
"I hope that won't be a problem," said Jeff.
"Not my business," said Mirriam.
"We're all pretty close, working together as much as we do," he
said. "I work them hard. I can't complain if they
have a little fun now and then. It's the seventies, after
all."
"As I said," said Mirriam. "It's not my business.
Would you like some tea?"
He smiled. "I thought we were finished."
"While we wait for your students," explained Mirriam.
"Excellent," said Jeff.
"They're going to come looking for us!" gasped Wanda. She had
ridden him through an orgasm, and, despite her protestations, he had
rolled her over and was hunched over her now, fucking her with pile
driver stabs of his hard prick. She could hear her pussy
gurgling and making squishy noises, and could feel his balls slapping
her butt.
"Almost there," he gasped. Then, "Ohhhh yeeeaaaaahhhhhh," as
he jetted into her.
As with so many young people, they scrambled up immediately, seeking to
restore their clothing so that no one would know what they'd
done. They were unaware that they could have taken
ten more minutes, while the adults inside sipped tea and chatted.
"Ohhhh Bobby," sighed Melanie. She was squeezing her own
breasts now, because Bobby was busy doing something she hadn't dreamed
he'd do. She could hear him slurping between her legs, and
yet again, she felt something that was better than anything else she'd
ever felt.
He didn't answer her. He'd fingered her through one orgasm,
while sucking her nipples. He'd only loosened the
front of her short shorts for that, but when he got her naked she just let it happen. Not only that, her hips had lifted to help him remove her last
garment. No male had seen her completely naked since she got to college, but she wasn't shy about letting this one see her that way. She was aware that was insane. She'd just met the guy! But somehow, what he was doing to her felt so natural that she just had to allow it to go on and on. She was no longer reluctant, either, about her virginity. She had assumed he'd finish the job, and
had spread her legs with only a twinge of nervousness.
But he hadn't done what she thought he would, and she felt like her
body was rising off the bed, full of something that would make her
float, like a balloon. She wasn't sure exactly what he was
doing down there, but it felt so good she knew she was going to have
another orgasm soon.
That amazed her. Like so many women, she thought you got one
per session, and that was all. He was about to prove her
wrong.
It was while she was in the throes of her second orgasm that he crawled
up, fisted his prick, and did what he'd been hired to do.
Suzie and Tiffany had been sitting, and listening to the muffled sounds
coming from Melanie's bedroom for what seemed like hours.
Suzie checked her watch, and saw that it was
two-fifteen. They'd been in there for an hour and a
half.
Neither girl could really comprehend what was going on. It
had been very quiet at first. Neither girl had felt like
talking. Both were trying to imagine what was happening
behind that door. Then a dim "Ohhh fuck" had
drifted to their ears, making both of them perk up. It was
obviously Melanie's voice. They looked at each
other. It had gotten quiet again.
Ten minutes later, there had been more noises, and it had been
basically noisy ever since, in a muted sort of way. If they'd
have turned on the stereo, they couldn't have heard it but, like people
who drive by an accident scene, they couldn't help but pay attention to
it.
The suddenness and unexpectedness of Melanie's wail shocked them. It was loud, easily audible through the door. It was a wail of pain ... except it didn't sound like pain. Tiffany actually stood up.
"What's going on in there?" she asked, breathlessly.
"I don't know," said Suzie weakly. She had no
trouble imagining Bobby. She'd seen him undressed lots of
times. She'd seen Melanie nude too, but she just couldn't
manage to put both of them in the same scene.
Tiffany sat back down, almost gingerly, like she was sore.
"Do you think it just happened?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"What were they doing all this time, if it just happened?" asked Suzie.
They listened to the quiet. Almost as if someone was turning
a radio up very slowly, they heard Melanie's voice, softly at first,
and then louder, until they could actually hear her voice, and the
words she was saying.
"Oh fuck Bobby that feels so good!" came her alto tones through the
door. "Oh please don't stop!"
Then, suddenly, it was quiet again.
Bobby was having fun, really. He wasn't turned on
... not like when he had sex with his sisters, or a woman he cared
about a lot. But watching Melanie respond to what he was
doing was like watching a child enjoying an ice cream cone you just gave
her.
He'd thought she was ready. He hadn't eased into her like he
had Paula, because, with his fingers, he'd felt that she wasn't as
tight as Paula had been. And he'd been right, in the sense
that when he slid into her, she didn't feel pain,
exactly. What she felt was the surprise and shock
of being filled and stretched. She had been ready to be
filled and stretched. All those anxious hours of worrying ...
all that tension inside her ... all of that stopping, just when things
were getting interesting, had left her ready to rejoice when she
finally felt what she'd dreamed about for years.
She'd been letting herself go for an hour and a half, though she didn't
reckon the time in minutes. And now, in the middle
of the best orgasm she'd ever had, as she felt the completion of her
goal, all the remaining tension burst out of her in a wail of joy that
it was finally over. Then, as he started moving in her, she
realized it was just beginning.
Basically, Melanie was as happy as she'd ever been in a long, long
time. She was very vocal about it, up until the time that
Bobby knew she was getting too loud. Then he ran
his arms under her shoulder blades, gripped her shoulders, scooted his
knees up so he could use just his abdominal muscles, and sealed his
lips onto hers.
His belly muscles began a rapid tensing and relaxing, and he made
rabbit-like strokes that left Melanie flopping helplessly in his grip,
her arms bouncing on the bed, and her heels doing the same thing as his
sides pushed her thighs toward her head.
Her pussy told him when she came. It squeezed and pulsed as
her slack mouth let what would have been shouts and groans out of her
lungs. He kept going until her shouts turned to
moans, and then whimpers.
Then he stopped, deep inside her, and let her recover. He
still gripped her, though, and she was still helpless in that
grip. Her pussy still fluttered, but weakly now, and she gave
all her energy to just breathing. He lifted his
head. Her eyes were closed.
"You want more?" he asked.
Her eyes fluttered open.
"You're not human," she panted.
"Sure I am," he said, kissing her chin.
Her stomach felt sore from the muscles there cramping. It
wasn't a bad sore, and she knew it would fade away
quickly. She knew if she stopped now, she'd wish
she hadn't, later, but still she gave up. "I think I've had
enough," she huffed.
Bobby was in that special place that a man sometimes finds himself,
where he feels like cumming ... would like to cum, even, but knows that
it would take a lot of work to get there. In those
times, it feels wonderful to stroke your prick into soft pussy, because
you know you can go forever, and make that wonderful feeling
last. In truth, if there had been only one woman,
he would have stayed with her long enough to let her recuperate, and
then enjoy getting to the point where he'd spurt in her.
But there wasn't just one woman.
He let his hands relax their grip on her, and moved them so that he
could rise from her breasts. He scooted his knees back, and
slowly withdrew his still rock hard prick from her
pussy. She sighed as he did so, and lifted her head
to watch it come out, as if she couldn't believe it had really been in
her.
"You're so hard," she sighed. "I thought it got all soft when
you were done."
"I didn't cum," he said.
"You didn't?" Her voice rose.
"I'm used to going longer," he said.
"You're not human," she sighed again.
"Are you on the pill?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Good girl," he said. "Maybe later we can do this again."
"I could sleep for a week," she moaned.
"I guess you can," he said, grinning. "You okay?"
"I'm wonderful," she sighed.
"I'm glad you had a good time," he said. He gave her a quick
kiss on the lips.
Her hands leapt up to his head and she held it as he pulled away.
"Thank you," she said. There were tears in her eyes.
"My pleasure," he said, kissing her again.
She watched his hard body get covered again as he dressed.
She realized she was lying there, her legs spread, totally naked in
front of this man she'd only known for a few hours.
She just didn't care.
Suzie and Tiffany had sat there, straining to hear something
again. Both girls tended to hold their breath, and then let
it out with a whoosh and a gasp, as new air was taken
in. When the door opened, both jumped.
Bobby walked out, looking perfectly normal. Both girls stared
at his face and then instinctively through the open door.
They could see Melanie's naked legs and thighs on the bed, but then the
door blocked their view as he closed it. Had they looked at
his groin they'd have seen the bar of his cock, lying under his jeans,
but they didn't look there.
"Be right with you," he said, as if he had just gone in that room to
get something, and would hand it over in a minute. He
disappeared into the bathroom.
Tiffany stood up again, watching Melanie's door, waiting for her friend
to come out. Nothing happened. The door
stayed closed. She turned to look at Suzie.
"Is she okay?" she asked.
"How should I know?" Suzie replied.
"Should I go see?" Tiffany sounded worried.
"If you were her, and you were okay, would you want somebody barging in
on you right now?"
"I guess not." Tiffany sounded
disappointed. She looked around, and then picked up
her wine glass, which had been refilled after lunch and brought to the
room, but not touched since then. She lifted it to her lips
and drained it in one long series of gulps.
Suzie looked for her own untouched glass, and did the same thing.
Suzie sat alone in the living room. She finished
her third glass of wine since lunch. Tiffany's room was right
next to Melanie's. Both of their bedroom doors faced the
living room, which, if a normal family had lived there would have been
a living room and dining room. The girls had two couches and
two overstuffed chairs, hand me downs, and used all the space as a
living room. A wall with a door in it separated the dining
room space from the kitchen. There was a hallway
that led to the bathroom and Suzie's bedroom, which was in the back of
the house.
She noticed that the sun was going down, based on the slanting sunlight
coming through the windows across from Melanie's and Tiffany's
bedrooms. She looked at her watch. It was
four-thirty.
Bobby had stayed in the bathroom half an hour. They both
understood why when they heard the shower going. Of course
he'd take a shower afterwards. That made them both feel
better, even though Suzie had no intention of getting naked with her
brother. Then he had come out, fully dressed, and walked over
to Tiffany, holding his hand out to her.
She had darted a look at Suzie, and then at Melanie's door.
Sounds that couldn't be anything but pleasure had come through that
door. She was pale when she stood up ... but she stood
up. Without a word, she led him to her room.
They'd been in there for an hour now.
So far, all Suzie's straining ears had heard had been little yipping
sounds. Then, almost suddenly, there was a loud
female groan. Suzie got up and went back to the
kitchen. She opened the third bottle of
wine. She and Tiffany had drunk a whole bottle by
themselves. She felt tipsy, but that was
okay. It actually helped a little. She
carried her glass back into the living room, wondering why she was
staying in there in the first place. Melanie came out of
her room suddenly, just as another loud moan came through Tiffany's
door. Melanie was in her robe again, her hair
tousled. Suzie thought of the term "well fucked" and, for the
first time, really understood what it meant.
"Is that for me?" asked Melanie, looking at the wine glass Suzie was
holding. She sounded like she'd just gotten up from sleeping.
"Sure," said Suzie, holding the glass out to her friend.
Melanie took a strong sip, not quite a swig, and swallowed it with
relish.
"Girl, you are in for a treat," she sighed, looking at Suzie.
"I am?" squeaked Suzie.
"Ohhhh yeah," sighed Melanie.
There was a louder yipping noise through Tiffany's door.
"It sounds like he's killing her," said Suzie. "You sounded
like that too!"
"He can kill me like that any time he wants to," said Melanie, looking
at the wine in her glass. She took another sip.
"You're not serious!" said Suzie, feeling tension making her body stiff.
"We should have done this years ago," said Melanie. "I'm
going to the kitchen to get something to eat. I could hear
them through the wall, and it was making me horny. He's good,
Suzie. I'm telling you I never thought I could feel like
that."
"He's good?" said Suzie weakly.
"He's worth five times what we're paying him," said Melanie.
Tiffany would have happily agreed with Melanie, had she heard what had
just been said. Tiffany might have said he was
worth even more than that.
Tiffany had entered her teenaged years as a gangly girl, with lots of
metal in her mouth, and very little flesh on her chest. The
braces had eventually come off, but her breasts hadn't grown all that
much. To make matters worse, everything that she wished would
go to her chest went to her butt instead. She had
no way of knowing how many men stared lustfully at that bubble
butt. She grew her hair long, because it covered her face
that way, when acne made her want to stay in bed under the
covers.
That had eventually cleared up too, and Tiffany turned into a normal,
average, nice looking girl physically. Her mind,
however, never quite caught up with her body. She'd
always thought of herself as plain and
uninteresting. She was the kind of girl who sat in
the chairs along the wall at school dances, maybe talking to another
girl like herself, and remained mostly invisible.
She didn't really ever figure out that it didn't need to be that way.
The first thing that affected her attitude about the relationship
between herself and the world was when she was rushed by the sorority
she had eventually joined. She couldn't believe
those girls ... those popular, glamorous girls ... wanted her to join
their sorority. The fact that she later found out they wanted
everyone to join their sorority didn't discourage her at all.
It simply illuminated the fact that it wasn't actually predetermination
that resulted in girls like her having lives like she'd had.
It had rocked her world, and she'd come mostly out of her
shell.
The second thing that rocked her world was Bobby
Dalton. It wasn't that Tiffany didn't want
experience with boys as she grew up. She just hadn't had
much. It was a vicious cycle, in a way. A
boy would ask her out. When it wasn't fun for some reason,
instead of analyzing what had gone wrong, she just pulled into her
protective shell. Initially, when she was just
starting to explore boys, the problem was that the boy was as terrified
of making a mistake as she was. So they basically ignored
each other. That fed her self image that she wasn't
interesting. On her next date ... well ... she just wasn't
very interesting. When asked a question, she answered in as
few words as possible. She rarely looked at the
boys she was with. She was distracted because she was
terrified. Boys would only try
so many times to overcome the fact that she didn't seem interested in
them. Then they asked a different girl out. When that
happened she just took sanctuary in her room, and didn't go out for a
while.
But when Bobby Dalton took her hand, and she went to the only place in
the house that was a real sanctuary for her - her room - she wasn't
ignored, and she couldn't ignore him.
He hadn't said a word. Instead, he'd just gone behind her and
put his arms around her, with his hands on her stomach. She'd
been able to hear him smelling her hair, taking in deep breaths and
rubbing his face into her hair. He'd kissed her neck,
something no boy had ever done.
She'd closed her eyes, waiting for it all to fall apart. His
hands had slid up to her breasts, which were naked under the tank top,
instead of being encased in their normal thirty-two inch bra.
For the first five minutes, she just stood there, unbelieving, as a
man's hands explored, and squeezed and played with her
breasts. His hands dipped down, to go under the
shirt and slid back up to rub them skin to skin. It felt so
wonderful that she felt like she was in a dream.
When he pulled the shirt up she stood helplessly, her arms raised, and
let him make her topless. He turned her, and he bent to suck
at her nipples for another five minutes. She tried to watch
him, at first ... tried to see what was making her feel so
good. Eventually she just closed her eyes and looked up at
nothing, concentrating on the feelings that were coursing through her
body.
Two things made this entirely different for her.
First ... she wasn't being required to talk. Second
... the pleasure distracted her from thinking about what was going on,
and how it might suddenly go wrong.
She felt like she was being eaten alive. That feeling was
only intensified when he laid her on the bed and, still without
talking, removed her shorts and panties. She was
paralyzed at the time, unable to help or hinder him in any
way. He was still clothed, but his lips roved all
over her body, even down her legs to her toes. When
his nose teased her pubic hair, her knees had jerked, all by
themselves, as if he'd hit some button that was connected to the
muscles and nerves. The jerk of her knees spread her legs
slightly.
Nobody had ever given her oral sex. Things had never even
gotten far enough for that to be an option. But now
a man's lips were fastened to her sex, and his tongue pushed
into her virgin pussy.
It almost destroyed her.
She ended up almost sideways on the bed after what her brain told her
was an orgasm, and her body told her had been a thoroughly delicious
beating. And when, as she lay limply,
gasping to get her breath back, he stood up and almost magically became
naked, she was helpless again. Her eyes jittered in their
sockets, trying to look at every part of his body at once.
Her eyes had settled on his penis only because it came towards her
head, which was lying on the edge of the bed.
Unbelieving, she felt the tip of that penis rub across her
lips. Her tongue flicked out without conscious thought,
exploring with a mind of its own. She knew what he
wanted, but she'd never even thought about doing that before.
It was like riding in a rocket ship. She knew it could be
done, but the thought of her doing it had never crossed her mind.
She remembered the sound of the shower going, and knew he had washed this thing. That and just the pressure of something being pushed against her lips made her open her mouth. He teased the tip into it. The
sucking impulse that had caused her to feed as a baby welled up in her,
and she sucked at that tip, her lips sealed in something that was like,
but more than a kiss.
His "Mmmmmm" electrified her. No man had ever made a sound of
appreciation because of something she'd done to him.
She sat up and moved, ending up sitting Indian style, naked, on her
bed, and stared at him. He was smiling. He was just
standing there ... smiling. His penis was rigid ...
pointing right at her. She had never had the
opportunity to examine one. And this one, she had
actually tasted! Idly, some part of her mind said, "There wasn't really much taste, Tiffy." Almost in slow motion,
she leaned forward, falling onto her hands as she got her knees under
her and she crawled, ever so slowly, toward him. Her
examination was hurried, because she had an impossibly strong urge to
taste him again. Her eyes were riveted to that
penis as she got closer to it, and opened her mouth.
Like someone who was tentatively tasting a new food, she simply pushed
her open mouth over the end, and then let her cheeks and tongue press
against it. She didn't suck. She just experienced
the feel and taste of it in her mouth. He stood
stock still. Other than that one "Mmmmmm" he had yet to say a
single word.
Her tongue moved first, exploring. Then, saliva collecting in
her mouth made her swallow, which required that her lips and cheeks
flex, as her throat muscles worked. Those lips and cheeks
clamped down on the thing in her mouth. Now she sucked,
instinctively.
"Ahhhhhhh," he moaned. His fingers came to slide
through her hair.
It was uncomfortable being on her hands and knees, because she was
above him, and had to bend her neck down a little to get to
him. Without letting him out of her mouth, she sat and
rotated her legs off the bed, ending up sitting on the side of the bed,
his prick still firmly in her mouth. Her head was
still too high, and she slid off the bed as he shuffled his feet back,
to let her kneel in front of him.
That was perfect.
Her hands went to his butt, and her mind registered dimly that the warm
flesh under her fingers was hard as a rock. So was the thing
in her mouth. She sucked and again instinct made her move her
whole head so that, while she sucked, that column of flesh slid deeper
into her mouth. The feel of it moving on her lips was
delightful, so she moved away.
Within five minutes of first putting any part of a penis in her mouth,
Tiffany was engaged in a purely instinctive blow job that was as good
as any Bobby had ever been the grateful recipient of.
Passion that had been stuffed into little boxes, which had been crammed
into a dark storage space in her brain, began to strain the seams of
the boxes. Her passion leaked out first as little
mewls of happiness. Tiffany had no way of knowing she was a
born cocksucker, or that it could be so much fun to do
this. She didn't think about any of that,
though. She just had fun doing it. Then she had
more fun doing it, until she was making constant noises, whining,
humming and otherwise being vocal in her appreciation for getting to do
this.
When he stopped her, her sounds were of disappointment and unhappiness.
Her nonverbal appreciation for what she'd done commenced
again as his lips went back to her nipples and pussy, until she was
panting with need.
He did the same thing with her that he'd done with
Melanie. Once she was thoroughly in the midst of an
orgasm, he nudged the tip of his prick between her pussy
lips. He knew immediately that she was tighter, and
that he could not just push in, like he had with her
roommate. He pushed enough to get her attention and then
stopped.
Her eyes fluttered open and he could see that she felt his pressure.
"Are you ready?" he asked. His voice sounded loud.
Her hands reached for his head and, as he kissed her lips for the first
time since entering the room with her, he pushed.
She produced a different set of sounds, a yipping sound that went
through two octaves as she was penetrated for the first time.
Again Bobby felt almost disconnected from what he was doing to the
girl. Her responses were gratifying. He was having
fun making her happy. That she was obviously having a good
time was important to him.
But there was no bond ... no feeling of deep and abiding affection or
love. He was enjoying this in the same way he enjoyed working
hard, and doing a good job. It was
enjoyable. It was successful.
But it wasn't love.
He took her through three orgasms, almost laughing at the way she
sounded a little like a coyote. In the end, she was
happy and satisfied. That made him happy and
satisfied. There was no impulse to fertilize her,
no need to pack her womb with his sperm. When he pulled his
still hard prick from her satisfied pussy, she had a dreamy look on her
face, and did not object as he got dressed, and left the room.
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