The Making of a Gigolo (3) - Sherry Winston

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Chapter Three

Sherry met him at the door. She was clothed, but that didn't last long.

"I lied," she said, shyly, clasping him close. "There's nothing wrong with the radiator." She reached up for a kiss, and he gave her one, squeezing her buttocks, too.

Her eyes were slightly out of focus when he pulled away from her lips, and they opened. He slid his fingers up her back, and under her arms, to caress her breasts, before beginning to unbutton her blouse.

"No bra today," he said softly.

"I need you so badly," she moaned. "I'm a slut."

"You're not a slut," he whispered, pulling her blouse apart and squeezing her nipples. "You're a woman who wants to be made love to, that's all."

She moved, as if her frozen body had suddenly thawed, and pulled him to the bedroom. Her blouse was off by the time they got there, and her shorts were at mid thigh. She let them drop and stepped out of them. He caught her hips as she tried to crawl onto the bed, and held her there, on her hands and knees.

She looked around, over her shoulder.

"Stay there," he ordered.

"Why?" she moaned.

"I'll show you. Be patient."

"I don't want to be patient!" she whined.

He slapped her right buttock, and she jumped.

"Owwww," she complained, arching her back and trying to see her butt. "You left a hand print on me!"

"Be patient," he said, removing his clothes.

She watched, as his stiff prick came into view, and sighed.

He moved up behind her, and put his hand between her legs, to rub her already-wet pussy.

"What are you doing?" she moaned, dropping her head.

"Touching you," he said, sliding his other hand along the small of her back.

He rubbed, until she was panting, and had dropped her head to the bed as she wiggled her hips. Then he stepped in, and with no warning, slotted his prick between her pussy lips and pushed into her, holding her hips firmly with his hands.

"Awwwwwww," she moaned. "This is nasty!"

"It's not nasty," he said, sliding out and then back in.

"It's the way animals do it," she complained, pushing her butt back as he slid in.

"Human beings are part of the animal kingdom," he said, prodding her again.

He reached around and cupped her breasts, which were only fractionally larger. Even gravity didn't affect them. But his prick in her pussy had made her nipples long, and he squeezed them, and pulled at them.

"I can't ... believe," she panted, "I'm ... going to cum ... already!"

He pounded her, then, as her pussy squeezed and milked at him, rippling along the length of his penis. When her muscles relaxed, he pulled out of her.

"Nooooo," she whined.

He pushed her sideways, and as she fell, manhandled her onto her back. Her legs flew apart, and he lunged, to land on her, and she squealed as his knees forced her thighs apart even more and he reached, to put himself in her again. He slammed home, hard, and she gasped. Then he pounded her again, until she cried out as her second release flooded her body. Immediately, he began going more slowly, just a leisurely stroking motion, in and out, letting her tight pussy massage his prick.

"That ... was ... amazing!" she gasped, dragging in lungfuls of air.

"I didn't hurt you ... did I?" he asked, going in deep and rotating.

"Ohhhhhhhh," she groaned, as the tip of his prick pried at her cervix. "I can't believe ... how you make ... me feel."

"I have something for you," he said, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?" she gasped.

"This," he said, going deep.

She felt his prick bulge inside her, and then the heat of his sperm as it washed her, deep inside. She was still amazed at how it felt, and immediately envisioned his sperm surrounding a tiny egg ... battering at its defenses ... until one wiggled its way inside.

This was the reason she had called him again. Lying in bed, alone at night, she'd tossed and turned, remembering what it was like to be loved by Bobby. She wanted children. At first she'd been horrified at her thoughts of wanting Bobby to make her pregnant. But, as the week passed, and she felt the signs that always told her she was primed to become a mother, the thought of that wonderful heat in her belly as he spurted, became something she had to have again.

And ... here it was. She wanted to laugh out loud, as he gave out a tiny grunt, and another spurt rocketed into her. Her arms and legs clamped around his body, holding him there, as each spurt made her feel more and more like she was going to explode with joy.

Before he left, that day, she'd felt it three more times. She told him she was too tired to get up and see him out, but that wasn't why she lay there as he got dressed, and gave her one last kiss. As soon as he was gone, she grabbed Sam's pillow, and stuffed it under her hips, raising her loins. Then she dreamed of having a baby. She felt no guilt at all. Sam should have made her feel like this, but all he was interested in was toilets.

Mirriam's nerves had not been calmed by her talk with Bobby. Perhaps that was why, when he appeared again, hours after going to see Sherry Winston, she hugged him. When she did so, her eyes opened wide, and she pushed him back.

"You smell like ... sex!" she gasped.

Bobby would never understand why he felt the urge to kiss his mother. Perhaps it was because he was still feeling the glow of love making. Maybe it was just a way to shut her up, before she started in on him again. It was also possible that he just loved her.

For whatever reason, he did kiss his mother, and he kissed her like he had learned to kiss other women.

Mirriam's surprise flashed to the kind of weakness that leaves a woman helpless, as the part of her brain that recognizes a lover's kiss moved much more quickly than the part that would soon tell her this was insanity. Just for a few seconds, she kissed him back. It had been years since she had been kissed like that, and her body responded to it instantly.

Then sanity took hold, and she pushed him away.

"Why did you do that?" she gasped.

"I don’t know," he answered, truthfully. "Except that I love you."

"You can't love me like that!" she gasped again.

"Okay," he said, his hands sliding from her back to her hips.

"You had sex with Sherry Winston ... didn't you?" she moaned.

Bobby wouldn't lie to his mother. He might withhold information, but he wouldn't lie.

"She needs me, Mamma," he said softly. "Her husband is never home. He neglects her."

"I thought we talked about this!" she said, distracted by the feel of his hands on her hips.

"I'm being careful," he said. "I took tools with me. Her radiators work perfectly."

Mirriam was further distracted by the fact that the penis that he freely admitted had recently been inside Sherry Winston was pressed against her loins, as their upper bodies leaned back, but their lower bodies stayed in the hug she had initiated.

"You can't ...” Her orders to him were interrupted by him kissing her again. He pulled away, grinning.

"Now I know why I did it," he said. "I like kissing you."

She was shocked, not only by his calm acceptance that he liked kissing her like that, but by her own flooding emotion at being kissed like that.

"It's not proper!" she barked, pushing him away.

"I love you, Mamma," he said.

"Wow!" came a soprano voice, from the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

Mirriam and Bobby looked to see Mary, his eldest sister, standing there, her eyes round as saucers.

"It's not what you think!" yelped Mirriam.

"What is it that I think?" asked Mary, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was now seventeen, almost eighteen. She didn't date, but only because the farm was so far from town and she spent so much time working on it. Bobby could pretty much come and go as he liked, but it wasn't so easy for the girls. Mamma always seemed to have something for them to do that prevented lollygagging around in town. Mary had noticed boys for years, and they had noticed her too. She had Mamma's full body, but a pug nose and freckles that were her bane. She had no idea boys thought she looked cute.

"Never you mind what you think!" spluttered her mother. "Don't you have chores to do?"

"I've been waiting for Bobby," said the girl. "He's supposed to help me."

Had Mirriam thought about it first, she might not have done what she did. But the fact is she was so rattled by her feelings, and what Bobby had done, and then Mary seeing them like that, that she just sank back into the comfortable role of "mother".

"Well get on with it then. You too, Bobby Jordan! Go help your sister! And don't be taking too long either. Supper will be ready in twenty minutes!"

Mary stared at Bobby sideways, as they walked to the chicken coop. The basket was hanging on a nail, inside the door, and Bobby grabbed it as he entered.

Mary hadn't seen the first kiss, but the second, though shorter, had been just as obviously not the kind of kiss that a boy gives his mother. Bobby, being the only boy around, for most of her life, had become her de facto example of manhood. She remembered Joe, and the joy of sitting on his lap, and listening to his stories, but Joe had been gone for years, now, and Bobby had, in many ways, taken his place.

"Why did you do that?" she finally asked, when it became obvious he wasn't going to volunteer anything.

"Do what?" asked Bobby, his voice innocent.

"I saw that kiss," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"A boy can't kiss his Mamma, and tell her he loves her?"

"You're no boy," she snorted. "You're all grown up, and that was a grown up kiss if I ever saw one."

"So you know all about grown up kisses?" he asked, grinning at her.

"No," she said, feeling like she had missed out on a holiday that everybody else got to celebrate. "I've seen some done, though."

"It was just a kiss," said Bobby. His voice made it clear that he was finished talking about it.

"So ..." said Mary, not finished at all. "You could kiss me like that too ... if it was just a kiss." She looked down her pug nose at her big brother. "I'm your sister. You love me too."

Bobby grinned. "You don't want me to kiss you like that," he said.

"Who says?!" she bristled.

"I say," he said, moving a hen to pull an egg from under her. She flapped her wings.

"You're not the boss of me!" she said, feeling five years younger, and angry because of it.

"I don't have to be the boss of you to say I won't kiss you like that," said Bobby, smiling.

"You kissed Mamma like that!" she insisted.

"That was different," he said.

"Why?" she almost danced with frustration.

"You should be kissing Randy Thorton, or Jeff Wiggins," said Bobby.

"Ewwww ... Those turds?" gasped his sister.

"They think you're cute," he said.

"Well I think they're ... turds!" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"You better watch it, or Mamma will wash that pretty little mouth of yours out with soap," said Bobby.

"Come on, Bobby," she pleaded. "If you can kiss Mamma like that ... I've never been kissed at all! Please?"

Bobby couldn't believe his sister was begging him for a kiss. For the first time, he began to wonder what it was about him that was so attractive to women ... those outside his family ... and now, apparently, those inside his family, too. He hadn't missed how his mother had reacted to those two kisses. He had seen her chest moving faster, just like Tilly's, or Martha's, or Sherry's did, when he kissed them. He had felt her hands on his shoulders, gripping, just like they gripped. Her voice had been outraged, but her body had been pleased. He could tell. And now, here was Mary ... begging him for a kiss.

He looked at her, as a woman. She was ripening like wheat, when it turns from green to golden. She was a woman, even if she was his sister. He felt his prick move, and caution sprang into his mind.

"When I think you're ready," he said. "Now, we have eggs to gather, and we've wasted ten minutes."

"When will I be ready?" she moaned.

"When will you be ready to have a baby?" he asked, leaning toward her.

Her face showed her complete shock.

"I just want a kiss!" she gasped.

"Well, kisses lead to other things," he said. "Trust me on that!"

He ended up gathering the rest of the eggs by himself.

That was because Mary ran, almost as if being chased by wild dogs, back to the house.

Sherry, like most of the women Bobby became involved with over time, went through a period of insatiable need, followed by a mellowing that resulted in less frequent visits, and longer, more sedate lovemaking sessions. Still, the hours she spent in his arms would remain her fondest memories of that period of her life. In years to come, she would remember those hours under him, her loins heaving up against him, or on her hands and knees, looking back over her shoulder at him as she ground her butt against him, or on top of him, while his fingers twiddled her stiff nipples as she let her weight push him as deep as she could get him.

Her hunger to have a baby did not abate though, and she reveled each time she felt him spurt in her. On those rare occasions when Sam came home, she demanded that he make love to her, because she knew, beyond doubt, that Bobby was going to make her pregnant, if he hadn't already. Sam's protestations that he was tired were brushed aside, and she shocked him by using her mouth on him, when he complained that he couldn't get hard.

Her thought processes about that were complicated. She had never sucked Bobby's penis. He had never asked her to after that first time, when she reacted so negatively, but she had thought about it many times, and had tasted the spend that seeped out of her, after he left her. She considered giving Sam her oral virginity the same thing as giving him her vaginal virginity. It wasn't that she felt guilty about the wild rutting she did with Bobby. But she was married to Sam, and she was going to have another man's baby, so at a minimum, she felt like Sam deserved something special from her.

At the same time, as Sam heaved and groaned the short minutes he was able to be in her before he came, and collapsed, to snore beside her, she told herself that the baby might be his after all. Who knew?

Unfortunately, when she did use her mouth on Sam, the results only made things worse between them.

That was because, as Sherry tried oral sex for the first time in her life, it became very clear to her, by his responses, that he had been on the receiving end of something like this many times. His instructions to her on how to improve were specific, and his reactions to her following those instructions were too ready.

"Yeah," he sighed, as she followed one command. "Just like that ... I love it like that."

Another time, he groaned, about to cum, and said "Let me cum in your mouth ... I love to cum in your mouth."

The problem was that he had never cum in her mouth before, and she knew he was thinking of another woman somewhere, who had done this to him.

She did not let him cum in her mouth. Instead, she mounted him, getting on top for the first time in their married life, and sank down on him as he spurted.

"When ... did you ... learn that?" he gasped, as his semen flowed into her.

"One of my friends told me she does this with her husband," she answered.

"Who?" he asked, panting.

"Never you mind that," she said, climbing off and lying down, so his spend would stay in her. She propped her hips up on a pillow.

"What are you doing that for?" he asked, already drowsy.

"I'm trying to get pregnant, of course," she answered, quite truthfully.

"It's still too early for kids," he mumbled. "Need to wait."

She didn't answer, and soon he was asleep.

The next day he was gone again, on another sales trip, and that day, when she put the pillow under her butt, it was Bobby's semen that soaked in.

Mary avoided Bobby for a few days, but then things seemed to return to normal. Bobby didn't kiss his mother, or stroke her. His hugs were quick, and light. He didn't think of her as a potential sexual partner, exactly. On the other hand, he was beginning to think of all women as potential sexual partners. Meals caused him to realize that he had been ignoring his sisters for years, looking past them, due to familiarity. All of them were cute, each in her own way. Some were more mature than others, of course, but all had similar physical characteristics that could be viewed as coming either from Mamma, or Joe. All had different personalities, but all of those personalities were engaging.

Then, one night, as Bobby was reading in bed, getting sleepy enough to turn off the light on his headboard, Mary opened the door and came into his room.

"Hi," he said. "What's up?"

She stood nervously, barefoot, in a long, cotton nightgown she had made herself, as Mamma stood over her at the sewing machine, giving her instructions.

"A boy has asked me on a date," she said. "Mamma says I can go."

"Who?" he asked.

"You don't know him. He's a year younger than me," she said.

"That's nice," he said.

"I don't know how to kiss," she said, her voice only a whisper.

"You don't have to kiss him," said Bobby.

"Of course I do," she said, a little louder. "Please?"

Her plea was obvious.

When he put the book down and stood up, she was so surprised that she backed up a step.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he chided.

"I know," she said, defensively. "I just didn't think you'd do it."

"I still don't think you're ready," he said.

"How can you say that?" she asked, frowning.

In answer, he stepped toward her, swept her into his arms, and kissed her like he kissed Sherry Winston.

Her arms made it halfway up, in surprised, automatic resistance, before the power of that kiss made them drop again, limp at her sides. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and his lips moved on hers, hungrily. His hands slid up and down her back, and then cupped her buttocks, as her knees weakened and she began to slide down his body. Pulling her against his loins, she felt her first male lump, pressing against her sexual organ, and that sent sparks of fire through her, until she felt like there was no air to breathe at all.

He pulled back, and looked at her eyes, which were wide open and round as saucers, and had been the entire time his lips had been against hers.

"Are you ready for that?" he whispered, grinding his prick through her nightgown.

"N-n-no," she whimpered.

"I didn't think so," he said. Then he kissed her again, with just as much intensity. By the time that one was over, she felt sticky and wet between her legs. She staggered as he let her go, and stepped back, and his hand shot forward to her elbow, to help her stand.

"Go on," he said. "You got what you wanted. Now, go to bed."

"Okay," she panted.

She walked out feeling like her feet weren't touching the floor. She shared a room with Flo, who was already in bed, with the light off. Mary climbed into her own bed, and spread her legs, to let the air get to her wet pussy. She knew how to touch herself. She'd done that many times, since learning, and she did it again now. Release came much more quickly than it had in the past, and she had to bite the base of her thumb, to keep from waking Flo.

"I'm pregnant," said Sherry, as he stepped through her door, and she hugged him.

"I'm happy for you," he said.

"It's yours, you know," she said, pressing her breasts to his chest.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Just love me a little," she said. "Sam will think it's his."

Later, as he stopped, and flushed her full of spunk again, he leaned down to kiss her.

"I loved making you pregnant," he whispered.

"I loved it too," she panted back.

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