The Making of a Gigolo (4) - Prudence Harris

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter Four

Florence came out to the barn to get Bobby.

"Mrs. Harris is on the phone. She needs to talk to you."

"Okay, be right there," said Bobby. He was wrestling with one of the front wheels of the tractor. It was flat, and he was trying to get the tire off, so he could patch the tube.

He got to a stopping place, and noticed that Flo was still there, watching him.

"How come Mary and Bev are being so nice to you?" she asked, suddenly.

"Why wouldn't they be?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "It just seems strange."

"You're nice to me," he said.

"No I'm not," she said firmly. "You're my brother. I don't have to be nice to you."

"You're just a sweetheart, down deep," he laughed, putting his arm around her and pulling her toward the door of the barn. "Even when you're trying to be mean, you're nice."

"Let go of me, you lummox!" she yipped, whirling away from him. "When are you ever going to move out, so I can have your room?"

"Mary would get my room before you did," he said.

"Same difference," she shrugged. "At least I'd have a room to myself."

"Why do you need a room to yourself?" he asked. He grinned, before she could answer. "Oh yeah, you're growing up ... a girl needs privacy sometimes."

She shot a dark look at him. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she growled.

"Of course not," he said, laughing again. "Mamma's going to let you go on dates soon. Then maybe you'll find out what I'm talking about."

"I don't need a boy in my life!" she snarled. "Mamma doesn't need a man, and I don't either. Mary's besotted with Fred, but that doesn't mean I'm going to do that!"

"We'll see," said Bobby, capturing her and pulling her against him again. She struggled, but ended up walking in step with him to the house. When they got there he let her go.

"Beast!" she teased.

"Softy!" he teased back.

"Sometimes you make me so mad!" she yipped. But she was smiling.

He went to the phone and spoke into it.

"Bobby? This is Prudence."

"Hi," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Could you come to the house Saturday?"

"Sure. What do I need to bring?"

"I just want to talk to you," she said.

"I'd be happy to," he said.

Bobby's knock was answered by Prudence, who was wearing her paint-splattered sweat suit.

"Looks like you're working today," he said, smiling.

"Just some house cleaning," she said.

She led him to the living room, and sat in an easy chair. He sat on the couch.

"It seems Constance has developed quite a crush on you," she said, without preamble.

"I'm flattered," he said.

"I think maybe the same thing has happened to me," she said, frowning.

"I'm doubly flattered," he said.

"It bothers me," she said.

"Constance is a little young," Bobby admitted.

"I wasn't talking about her."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Bobby, cutting to the chase.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," she said, helplessly. "I'm in no condition to have a man in my life again. I feel better. You helped me feel better, Bobby, and I appreciate that. For the first time in a long time, I don't dread waking up every day.

"I'm glad about that," said Bobby.

"This is what I mean!" said Prudence, getting up and pacing. "You're polite. You're talented, and you definitely have a way with women. You make me want things that I'm in no position to want. I think about you entirely too much!"

"Look," said Bobby. "You're making it harder than it needs to be. You're a good looking woman. Go out on some dates. Have some fun. You're an adult. There's nothing wrong with bringing some happiness into your life."

"I told you!" she said, turning to face him. "I'm not ready for that yet! Maybe I will be some day, but not yet. If I did that, I might find a man I want to keep, and I'm still on the edge of madness as it is. I don't know how to act, and I wouldn't know what to talk about, and I don't know how to get a man to ask me out anyway!"

"Calm down," said Bobby. "One step at a time."

She looked at him helplessly and he patted the seat beside him. She came, and sat.

"The fall festival is coming up," he said. "Go to the dance. If a man asks you to dance ... and they will ... dance with him. Talk about whatever is on your mind. Just be yourself. If I can be attracted to you as strongly as I am, every other man will be attracted to you too."

"That's another thing!" she moaned. "You say such sweet things. You touched me so lovingly. You're not pushy. You make me want to do things I shouldn't do!"

"Why not?" he asked. "You're a big girl. This is America. Why can't you do whatever it is you want to do?"

"Don't you get it?" she moaned. "I want to have sex with you!"

"I want to have sex with you too," he said.

"You can't just say that!" she whined.

"Why not? You just did."

She threw up her hands and let them drop again.

"Come here," he said, tugging at her elbow.

"What?" She sounded sullen.

"Come over here," he said.

"I’m right here!" she barked.

He grasped her shoulders and twisted her away from him, pulling, and she fell, with a yelp, across his lap. He caught her with his left arm, and pulled her startled face to his for a kiss.

He didn't hold anything back. He kissed her like he meant it. He had no idea if she'd ever French kissed or not, but, in her startled state, her lips were slightly open, so he flicked his tongue into her mouth. She stiffened, at first, and her hands went to his chest to push. Then they curled, digging into his chest muscles, but she couldn't get a grip.

Slowly, as he maintained the kiss, he felt her begin to relax, until her upper hand slid up his chest, to his shoulder, and then around behind his neck, and she started kissing him back.

They made out like teenagers, moving from one hot kiss into another, and she became almost frantic in her movements, pulling herself against him. His hand stroked her back, at first, and then moved to her hip, and finally up under her shirt, onto her back. Her hand came back to his chest, and pushed, gently, this time, and he let her move away from his lips.

"What are you doing?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Making love to you," he said, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her mouth.

"You can't do that," she moaned.

"I am doing that," he said, smiling, and stroking the smooth skin of her back. While she was still staring into his eyes, he slid his hand down, and into her sweat pants, under her panties and onto a surprisingly firm butt cheek.

"No man has touched me since Harry," she whispered.

"Harry's gone," said Bobby. There wasn't any other way to say it.

"I can't," she moaned.

"Kiss me," he said.

With a strangled moan her face lurched towards his, and, as she kissed him passionately, he slid his hand around her hip, inside her panties. Her upper leg rose by instinct, and he slid his hand into wet heat. She groaned as his finger found her tight channel and he dug into her, pulling the base of his finger against her clit.

She pushed away from him, gasping.

"Stop!" she gasped.

"In a minute," he said. He wiggled his finger and her eyes rolled in their sockets. She arched against him, her hips betraying her.

"Oh, please stop," she begged, as she lifted her leg higher.

"You need this," he said soothingly. "Show me your beautiful breasts."

"Nooooo," she moaned.

"Show them to me," he commanded.

Her hand dragged at her sweat shirt, and she rolled backwards, as his finger tortured her pussy.

"Ahhhhhhh," she whined, laying back. Her hand pulled, exposing her bra.

"Lift your bra," he said.

"Ohhhh Bobbeeeeee," she whined. "You're killing meeee."

"Lift it!" he said.

Her fingers scrabbled at the bottom of the bra, and it flipped up, to reveal milky white breasts, heavy and wobbly, with fat brown nipples, set on large, dark areolas.

Bobby leaned over and suckled one nipple, whipping his finger in and out in a circular motion.

She went rigid and wailed as an orgasm wiped out all thought except the joy of feeling this special thing once again. She hadn't had an orgasm in over ten years, and it seemed like this one tried to make up for all that time as she writhed on his lap. She babbled and bawled and then went limp.

He stopped frigging her, and withdrew his finger, to press three fingers against her pussy lips, just putting pressure there. He licked her nipple, and the areola, and then moved his mouth, pulling her up. Her eyes were glazed, and her mouth slack as he kissed her. Then, as she recovered, she got some control back, and returned his kiss. He pulled his hand out of her pants, and held her tight, still kissing her gently.

With the gentlest of pressure, she pushed at his chest, and he backed off. His hand, now free, went to her bra and pulled it back down. She had to help him get her generous, wobbly breasts back in the cups.

"You have to go now," she said softly.

"All right," he said, stroking her hip.

She struggled to stand, and he stood up too. She was looking down at the floor, obviously embarrassed. He put a finger under her chin and made her look at him. He kissed her softly.

"We both needed that," he said.

"You have to go now!" she said, her voice urgent.

"I'll be back," he said.

"You can't come back!" she gasped.

"You know you want me to," he said.

"Of course I want you to!" she wailed. "Don't you see?"

He took her hand and kissed it. "I can wait until you're ready," he said.

Then he slipped out the door.

He intended to go home and masturbate. He was still very excited from playing with Prudence. When he got home, though, he found that Beverly had honored her promise to befriend Constance. Constance was, in fact, at his house, spending time with Bev.

"Hi, Bobby," she said, shyly, when he walked in. She smiled, no longer worried about her teeth, at least not with him.

Bev rolled her eyes and tugged at Bobby's sleeve.

"I'll be right back, Connie," she said.

"Connie?" asked Bobby, grinning.

"She's got it in the worst way for you!" said Bev. "When we got here, and she found out you weren't here, I couldn't get her interested in anything!"

"She's a little young for me, don't you think?" he asked, still grinning.

"I'm a little young for you too, you big oaf!" said his sister, her eyes flashing. "And I'm helpless around you too!"

Bobby reached out and tweaked the tip of one of her breasts. She slapped at him. "Go talk to her for a little while. Maybe then she'll calm down."

Bobby did her one better than that. He invited Constance to gather eggs with him. She'd never been around live chickens before, and was skittish, at first. When they were done she was inordinately proud of herself.

"Life is always so interesting around you," she said, looking at Bobby sideways, as they walked back to the house.

"There are lots of boys out there who would make life interesting for you too," said Bobby. "Boys your own age."

"I know I'm acting goofy," she said, slumping. "It's just that Mamma and I are so much happier since you started coming over."

"I don't mind if you act goofy," said Bobby, "As long as you pay some attention to boys your own age too."

"I don't know how to behave around them," she moaned.

"That's what Bev is for," he said, grinning. "She can teach you everything you need to know, and then some."

"Okay," said Constance, happy again. "I still like you, though."

"And I still like you," he said.

She almost wiggled, as she grinned and skipped ahead, the egg basket swinging dangerously in her hand.

He didn't get to relieve the pressure later that day either. Mamma had a full slate of chores for him to do, and he wasn't done when she called him to supper.

Then, after supper, she wanted to fit him for some new shirts, and a pair of pants. The girls were all in Bev's room, their attention on her new friend.

Bobby stood there in his underwear, arms out, while Mirriam ran the cloth tape along his arms, over his back, and around his chest.

"My goodness you've grown up," she sighed. "You have muscles on your muscles!"

"I guess I work hard," he said.

She knelt to do the measurements of his legs. Her face was right in front of the bulge in his briefs.

"How you've grown," she whispered. Then: "Are you still being careful?"

"I don't do anything a woman doesn't want done," said her son.

"You kissed me," she said.

"You wanted me to kiss you," he said.

"How would you know a thing like that," she snorted.

"I know lots of things, Mamma," he said.

She ran the tape around his hips, crossing it right on top of his bulge.

"Like what?" she asked, distracted.

"Like you want to see it."

"See what?"

"What your measuring tape is on top of," he said.

"I do not!" she said, standing up. "I'm your mother, for pity's sake!"

"You're also a woman," said her son. "And, judging from the number of daughters you have, I'd say a hot-blooded one."

"Robert Jordan Dalton, how dare you talk to your own mother that way?" Her words were harsh, but her voice was wistful.

"See there?" he said. "You can't even get mad at me for being rude about it."

"Why are you being so rude?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I want you to see it too."

"Bobby, that's ridiculous," she said.

"I love you, Mamma," he said, standing there. "You're the only woman in the world I love, like I love you. I like the other women, but I don't feel it in my heart, like when I look at you."

"These other women ..." said Mirriam, unable to keep her eyes from glancing down. "Have any of them seen it?" she asked, her eyes widening, as she realized that bulge had grown even more.

"Yes Ma'am," he said, simply.

"And have they ... touched it?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"How did this happen?" she asked. "You're my baby boy. How did you come to be with these women?"

"They needed me," he said. "They needed to feel good, so I helped them feel good."

"That's it?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't that what Joe did for you?" His question was genuine.

"It was complicated," she sighed.

"It's always complicated, Mamma," he said.

"Well," she said firmly. "As odd as I feel saying this, thank you for the offer, young man, but I believe I'll decline. That's all I need, to see a man's ... to see a man, after all these years. You just keep that thing in your pants while I'm around."

"Okay, Mamma," he said, grinning. "When you change your mind, just let me know."

Mirriam felt butterflies in her belly. He was so handsome ... so willing ... so available. But he was her son. He had sprung from the loins that were currently roiling with the passion she was trying to fight off. She wanted to hug him, but she knew if she did she'd want to do other things too. He was right. She was hot blooded. She'd been unable to resist Joe. Whenever he showed up she was wet from the day he got there, to the day he left. She realized she was damp now, and chased her son out of the room. She didn't even let him get dressed, so fearful was she that she'd ask him to stay.

Bobby didn't even think about it. He padded toward his room, his balls aching. Finally, he'd have the chance to ease the pressure.

He heard them before he saw them, a giggling gaggle of girls, laughing and screeching, in that way only teenage girls and coyotes have of making high pitched noises.

That noise stopped almost instantly, as the crowd of girls flowed around a corner to face a man, dressed in only his underwear, which lovingly cradled ... and advertised ... his swollen penis.

"Oh my gosh!" squealed Linda, who was then fourteen.

"Wow!" came a voice he belatedly recognized as Constance's.

Even Mary, Flo and Bev had been unable to resist being around a visitor. Mary had, in fact, been regaling them with stories of how romantic Fred was, and describing to her sisters, and the visitor, how exciting it was to be around a man who pined for her. Now, Mary, Flo and Bev reverted to being the older sisters, as the noise level began to escalate again.

"Bobby!" they shouted, almost as one.

"Don't get all excited," he said, grinning. "Mamma was just measuring me for new pants."

"You can't just walk around like that!" gasped Flo, staring straight at his crotch.

"Close your eyes, girls!" said Mary, her voice authoritative.

Betty, who was twelve, and the youngest, actually did, and covered her eyes with her hands, to boot. There were giggles and more shouting, though, as the rest of them ogled the man in front of them.

"Good grief!" snorted Bobby. "You'd think you all had never seen a man!"

"Not like that!" said Matilda, who was proud to be able to claim she was older than her sister by fifteen minutes.

"Does he walk around here like that a lot?" asked Constance, her voice dreamy.

"Certainly not!" yelled Flo.

"If you ladies will excuse me, I was headed to my room," said Bobby, moving toward the group of girls.

There was a flutter of movement as girls went silent and flattened themselves against the wall, with the exception of Mary and Bev, who forgot to react as if they'd never seen him like this before. Bobby winked at Mary, who blushed, and then moved to the wall, pulling Bev with her.

Eight heads swiveled, to watch him walk by. Betty had uncovered her eyes, now, and was staring with the rest.

Bobby turned into his room and, as he closed the door, the noise level swelled to twice its original volume, as the girls squealed and yipped about what had just happened.

Bobby lay down on his bed, but decided not to jerk off. He had a hunch that Mary, or Bev, or both, would visit him later, and he wanted to provide them with a full load of spunk.

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