The Making of a Gigolo (4) - Prudence Harris

by Lubrican

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

Chapter Five

Bobby was right to expect both his sisters to visit him that night. Both Mary and Bev came in together, and Mary was almost frantic to climb on him and rub. Halfway to her orgasm, she told him why.

"Fred asked me to marry him!" she panted.

Bobby was afraid Bev would wake everyone in the house with her squeal of delight. She clapped both hands over her mouth, as she realized how loud she was being.

"Is that a good thing?" asked Bobby. He'd never thought of getting married. He liked being able to be involved with several women.

"I don't know," she moaned, rubbing faster.

"What did you tell him?" asked Bev, calmer now.

"I told him I had to think about it," gasped Mary.

"Mary!" squealed Bev again. "Why did you say that? You know you love him."

"I know," she panted. "Shut up. I'm almost there."

She was, and within ten seconds she whined and rubbed furiously, as Bobby sucked at her nipples and stroked her hips. She lay down on him, limp, when she was done.

"My turn!" said Bev. "If you love him, why didn't you just say yes?"

"It's scary," moaned Mary. "I'd have to leave here ... leave all of you ... and go live in a strange house.”

"You could do this whenever you felt like it," said Bobby, sliding his hands all over her back and butt.

"That's another thing," she sighed. "I'm scared of having sex. I just know it's going to hurt."

"What we do doesn't hurt," said Bobby.

"I know that!" she said, pushing herself up and climbing off of him.

Both Mary and Bobby were astonished to find that Bev had taken off her nightgown. She'd never done that before. Bobby stared at her breasts, smaller versions of Mary's with the same pink nipples.

"Do you want to be on top of me too?" asked Bobby, staring at her.

"No," she whispered. "I don't think I'm ready for that. But your hands feel so good on my skin ... I just want to be next to you ... like this."

Bobby rolled to his side, and she joined him, snuggling up against him, his wet prick rubbing her belly.

"That feels so strange," she said. She kissed him, and within seconds she was lying on her back, as Bobby rolled them, to lay half on top of her. His hand was between her legs, and she had spread them for him. She moaned as he slid a finger into her, and kissed him harder.

"That doesn't hurt?" asked Mary, whispering.

Bev twisted her face away from Bobby's, to look at her sister, around his head.

"No!" she gasped. "Now it's your turn to shut up."

Mary watched, as her brother's finger disappeared up inside of her sister. Bev obviously loved that. Her thrusting hips made that clear. But Mary remembered the pain, when Bobby had put only a little of his finger in her. Her own hand went between her legs. She'd never put anything inside her, but now, she slipped one fingertip in. She hit her barrier immediately, and felt the twinge of pain as she experimented, pushing against it. She felt part of her fingertip slip to one side of that barrier. There wasn't room to push much, and when she did, it was uncomfortable ... like picking at a scab. She removed the digit and, while watching Bobby finger fuck her sister, rubbed her nubbin until she clenched her teeth, cumming again, in time with Bev, who broke away from Bobby's lips to open her mouth wide, and close her eyes tightly as she had an orgasm too.

Mary rolled Bobby to his back. His prick was wet from her pussy, but she didn't care. She was too inflamed to resist closing her mouth over his prick.

"Ahhhhhhh," moaned Bobby, as she sucked at his manhood.

She sucked a long time, but he didn't spurt. When she stopped, to ask him why, he said he didn't know. It felt wonderful, but he didn't feel the urge to spurt.

"Jack on it," he suggested.

She did, sliding her mouth up and down, in time with her hand. Her lips pushed his foreskin back each time.

"Oh yeah," he moaned. "That's what it needs."

Within two minutes, Mary had a mouthful of her brother's delightful, warm spunk, and swallowed it happily.

Bobby was at the grocery store when he saw Prudence next. She was wearing another new outfit, tan slacks, with an orange and yellow blouse that made her look like she was on fire. She was peering at the label of a can, and hadn't seen him yet.

"Hi," he said, pushing his cart almost past her.

She looked up from the can, and her eyes widened. Then, slowly, her pale face began to be tinted with a stain of pink.

"Hello," she said, having to clear her voice to get the word out.

Bobby looked around. They were alone in the aisle.

"I'd like to see you again," he said.

She looked around too.

"See me?" she asked. "Is that all you want to do?"

"Of course not," said Bobby, smiling.

"How do you do that?" sighed Prudence.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Make me feel like this," she said. "I'm a grown woman, but whenever I look at you, I feel seventeen."

"You didn't feel seventeen the other day," said Bobby, smiling wider. "Not by a long shot."

She looked around again, nervously.

"I can't see you again," she whispered. "I'd feel like doing things we shouldn't do."

"Why do you think I want to see you again?" asked Bobby, his smile small now.

"How can you want that with a woman twice your age?" she moaned.

"You're beautiful," said Bobby. "I like you. I told you all this already."

"I didn't know you wanted to do that!" she whined.

"A woman like you shouldn't be made to go without an important part of her life. You've deprived yourself. Didn't you feel good last time?"

"Too good!" she gasped, flushing harder.

"I can make you feel even better," he said. "I want to make you feel even better."

"I don't believe I'm standing here, talking to you about this, in the middle of the grocery store!" sighed Prudence.

"Then let's talk about it Saturday morning ... at your house ... in your bedroom." Bobby said it plainly, as it were merely simple conversation.

"Constance ..." moaned Prudence, trying to fight the desire inside her.

"Send her to my house. She and my sister are friends now."

She was about to say "No!" when he reached out and touched her hand, where it lay, gripping the handle of her cart. That single touch shattered her resistance.

"All right!" she gasped. Then, in almost panic, she pushed her cart, almost running down the aisle away from him.

He played with her, going the opposite direction, and then looking to see which aisle she was going down next. He made sure he met her again, walking past her. If there were other people in the aisle, he said nothing. Once, when there was only one other customer, who was far away, he mouthed the words, "See you Saturday" and grinned, as she blushed and hurried past him. Another time, he reached out and stroked her hand, as he went by.

The fourth time he passed her, she whispered "You're terrible!"

But, as she hurried off, she was smiling.

He didn't make it to her house until after ten, Saturday morning. He was still doing chores when Constance showed up at the farm, riding her bicycle, and went into the house as if she lived there.

Bev had found out that she really liked the quiet girl, who wasn't nearly as quiet once she accepted the fact that she had a real friend. The other girls liked her too, which only added to the strange, almost mystical sense of sisterhood she began to feel with them. Never having been around many kids her age, except in school, she was amazed at the noise and apparent confusion of a house that seven girls lived in. That the boy she had a crush on lived there too was just icing on the cake.

Medanwhile, when Bobby knocked on the door at Constance's house, it opened almost immediately. A panic stricken Prudence stood there, already breathing hard, as if she'd run to get the door.

"I thought you'd never come!" she blurted.

"I thought you were nervous about me coming at all," he said, smiling.

"I'm terrified!" she moaned.

"You don't have to be," he said. "Can I come in?"

She jerked, and stepped back. She was wearing shorts, and a shirt that buttoned up the front. She was also barefoot. She stood, tensely, frowning.

"Look," he said soothingly. "I don't want to make you nervous, or upset, or do anything that you don't want to do."

"I have no idea what I want to do," she said, honestly. "The thought of you being here ... of us ... I just can't imagine it!"

In fact, Prudence had been in turmoil ever since seeing him at the store. She was inundated with the pure joy of being desirable, as any woman might be, but it had been so long since she had felt that, that it felt foreign. And, like many women, she couldn't convince herself that a man - especially a handsome, young, muscled Adonis - would find her attractive. She saw all the flaws, when she looked in the mirror. She saw the pooch, where there was extra flesh on her abdomen. She saw the stretch marks on that skin, from when she was pregnant. She saw her breasts, hanging low, heavily, when they weren't controlled by a bra. She saw the moles, and the pale skin, and the padding on her hips. She believed herself to be fat, though she carried only the normal extra flesh that nature gives a mature woman. At the same time, she had felt Bobby's passion, as he kissed her, and slid his hand where no man's hand had been in more than ten years. She'd felt his arousal, pressing against her side as he gave her that wonderful, terrifying orgasm on the couch. Then there were the cultural taboos involved, though they actually took a back seat to her personal qualms and desires. She was at war with herself, knowing that she shouldn't want more, but wanting more desperately.

And he had plainly offered her more, and was there, in the flesh, because she had said, "Yes."

"Maybe I should check that window pane," he said softly.

She jerked, as her mind centered on him.

"It's fine!" she said, automatically. He smiled, and she felt silly. He was giving her a little push ... but only a little one. "Oh!" she said. "I suppose that would be all right."

Then, when they got to the bedroom, and he ignored the window, to stand in front of her and reach for the buttons of her shirt, she didn't know what to do. So she just stood there, as he unbuttoned it, and slid it off her shoulders.

She stood there as he undid the snap of her shorts, and pushed them over her hips, where they were tight. She bit her lip, knowing that now he could see the pooch of her abdomen, with its stretch marks. He turned her, as if she was a department store mannequin, and she felt his fingers at the catch of her bra. It went slack, and he pushed it off her shoulders. His fingers traced over her now-bare shoulders, and she dropped her head, both in shame at being almost naked with him, and because his fingers felt so good, stroking her skin.

The bra dropped to the floor, falling off her limp arms, and she felt a warm kiss on her neck before his fingers went to the bun, on the back of her head.

"Bobby," she whispered. No one had ever seen her hair down since Harry had died.

"Shhhh," he said, loosening the pins, and pulling at the long hank of hair.

It fell to her shoulders, and she pulled it forward, to cover her breasts. She almost cried out as he knelt behind her and pulled her panties down, but bit her lip to keep from doing that. A strangled moan slipped past her teeth.

"It's all right," he whispered, sliding his hands up the outside of her thighs, to rest on her hips.

She expected him to turn her around ... to stare at her ... to ogle her, with lust-filled eyes. Instead, he simply ran his fingertips over her back, and sides, and arms, until some of the tenseness loosened.

She had no idea how he did it, but when he stepped up to press the front of his body against her naked back, he was naked too. She felt his erection press into her buttocks, and sighed with the ecstasy of knowing he was aroused for her. His hands slid to her belly, and he gripped the extra flesh there.

"I'm fat," she moaned.

"I love the feel of your skin," he whispered, his chin on her shoulder.

His hands slid upwards, under her hair, to cup her naked breasts.

"I love the feel of these too," he said, squeezing them, and lifting them. His fingers found her fat nipples and squeezed gently. She moaned, and leaned back against him.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered.

Her involuntary step toward the bed might have been disaster, had he not been holding her breasts. Her left foot caught in the panties and shorts that were puddled around her feet, and she would have fallen, but his hands saved her, and let her step out of the obstruction.

That first time was all a blur to Prudence ... a cacophony of an odd mixture of silence, and noises that she knew she was making, but wasn't making intentionally. She wasn't sure how she got on the bed, on her back, and couldn't remember him climbing on top of her. She didn't even know she'd spread her legs for him, until she felt the pressure of his entry. Quite suddenly, from that point on, she seemed to be at once there, on the bed with him, and floating up above that bed, watching as his hips rose and fell between her knees, and both of her selves were transported to a place she'd loved in the past, but forgotten about completely.

She had no idea how many orgasms she had. They washed over her like waves in the ocean, coming again and again as she let them lift her, and drop her. What she did remember was the ecstasy of being full of hard prick that moved and stroked and massaged her frantic pussy. She also remembered, with crystal clarity, that she had been a fool to go without this for so long. She would never forget one other thing. That was his long, drawn out sigh, when he said "Oh Prudence," and she felt his hot sperm jetting into her. That brought her back into her body, and she luxuriated in the feeling that he had put a ball of fire into her belly, that was slowly expanding, and would completely consume her.

They lay there, gasping, and she cleared the hair away from her face. It was tangled all around her upper body, but she didn't care. She had finally been convinced that this man found her attractive, and that he would find her attractive again. The peace that acceptance brought her simply added to the glow she felt inside, where his spend lay in her womb.

The first thing either of them said, was ten minutes later, when he rolled and put his hand on her abdomen, on top of the ball of heat that was still there.

"Give me ten minutes, and we'll do that again," he said.

Three hours later Prudence Harris was a changed woman as, still naked, with her hair still down, she walked with Bobby to the front door and kissed him firmly.

"Any time you want me," she said, into his lips. "I'm yours."

"I want you again, already," he said. He had spurted in her three times.

"You have no idea how that makes me feel," she whispered.

"You make me feel pretty good too," he said.

As it turned out, it was actually Prudence who set the schedule for them. Gone was her reluctance to engage in such acts with a man almost young enough to be her son. Constance had dance lessons, once a week, on Wednesday nights, and while Constance learned ballet moves, Prudence danced a different kind of dance, in bed with Bobby. Then, on Saturdays, when Constance went to visit her new best friend, Bobby stopped in to visit his new lover.

It took three months for them to get to the point where Prudence could stand to have him only once a week. Then two events changed everything for them.

The first was that Prudence realized she was pregnant. When that realization hit her, it was like a ton of bricks. She couldn't believe she'd paid no attention whatsoever to the risks involved with what she was now doing again, after so long. She was, at the same time, enraged with herself for being so stupid, and ecstatic that life was growing in her belly again. It made her volatile.

The first time she saw Bobby again, after she knew, she was almost vicious in her condemnation of him, ranting at him for ten minutes, in the living room of the house. When she finally ran down, and looked at him for a response, he said, simply, "I couldn't be happier."

"You wanted to get me with child?!" she gasped, astonished.

"No," he said. "But the fact that you are makes me very happy."

That was when the other side of the issue came out, as she realized she was happy about it too ... sometimes. That realization ended them up in bed again. When they were sated, and lay together, reality crept back into the room.

"I can't marry you," she said. "The whole town would make us a laughing stock."

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked.

She looked at him. "No," she said, and then put her finger on his lips. "I love you. I love what you've done to me, but I'm not ready to be married again. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to be married again."

"I have some responsibility here," he said, when she removed her finger from his mouth.

"I know that," she said. "You'll be around him ... her ... whatever. You'll always be welcome here. I raised Constance. I'm not worried about raising this one."

"You know people will talk," he said.

"Let them," she said. "People in this town have ignored me for years. I know a lot of that is my fault, now. I've done fine, though, and what you've done for me is so wonderful ... it's like starting a whole new life, sometimes."

The second thing that changed things forever was on a Saturday morning, three weeks after she learned she was pregnant, and they were re-enacting how she got that way. Constance had gone off to be with Bev, and, at some point, Bev had said, "Let's go to your house! Do you know I've never even seen your room?"

When the girls walked in the house, they had to go by Prudence's bedroom to get to Constance's bedroom. Prudence and Bobby had left the door open, and both girls got an instant lesson in what lovemaking looked like. The angle was perfect for both of them to watch, as Bobby's thick penis slid in and out of Prudence's clasping pussy. He had already cum in her once, and the thick ring of white around the base of his penis made that quite obvious too.

"Mommy!" squealed Constance.

"Bobby!" cried Bev.

Pandemonium broke out, for a minute or two. Both Harris women were shaken badly by the incident, Prudence because she'd gotten caught, and Constance because the man she'd been dreaming of was doing that to her mother.

On the other hand, both Bev and Bobby were much quicker to adjust. Bev had seen Bobby do almost the same thing to Mary, and she had been toying with the idea of seeing what it felt like to do what Mary did. Beverly already knew her brother was a sexual being. She was just surprised that her suspicions that he had sex with women outside the family were true.

Both Bobby and Beverly worked together to bring control back to the situation. They sat mother and daughter beside each other, on the edge of the bed, and stood in front of them. Prudence used her hair to cover her nakedness, but Bobby just stood there. He was flaccid, but his cock was a spermy mess.

"Your mother is an adult," said Bobby. "That's what adults do."

"B-b-but she's my mother!" wailed Constance.

"How do you think you came into the world?" asked Beverly.

"Whose side are you on?!" wailed Constance.

"I'm not on anybody's side!" said Bev. "Like he said, that's what adults do!"

"Your brother is standing there naked!" squealed Constance.

"I've seen him naked a hundred times," snorted Bev. "He's my brother!"

"Oh," said Constance, weakly. She stared at his penis.

"And you told me yourself that you'd like to see him naked too."

"What?" gasped Prudence.

"Bev-er-leeeee," moaned an embarrassed Constance, covering her blushing face.

"Oh, we were just talking," said Bev, waving a hand in the air. "Girls talk. You know that. You were a girl once."

Her familiarity with Prudence, who she'd never had a conversation with, broke through all the embarrassment Prudence was feeling. She looked at this girl, who didn't seem to be at all embarrassed by catching her own brother having sex with an older woman.

"You seem to be taking this all in stride," she said suddenly, looking at Bev closely.

Beverly tried to remember what she'd just said. Her first instinct was to calm things down. She loved Bobby, and didn't want him to get in trouble, and she liked Constance too, and didn't want her to be freaked out. Now, what she'd done with Bobby herself, leapt into her mind, and she blushed, guiltily.

"I knew he was doing this with somebody," she said, trying to get the attention off of herself. "I just didn't know who."

"How did you know?" asked Prudence.

"Because he acts so goofy when he comes home sometimes," Bev said, uncomfortably. "I know how boys act when they've been ... doing stuff."

"Oh you do, do you?" asked Bobby, playing along.

"Boys try stuff with me," said Bev. "I don't let them, but I know girls who do, and I know how the boys act when they've been let ... when they got to ... oh ... you know what I mean!" she finished, flustered.

"You'd better not let them," said Bobby, his voice serious.

"You should talk!" snorted Bev.

"Prudence and I are both adults," Bobby reminded her.

"I know!" she snarled. "Put on some pants or something. You're scaring Connie!"

"I'm not scared!" yipped Constance. Everyone looked at her, and she blushed.

"Well," said Prudence, her voice dull. "What do we do now?"

"Connie and I just came to see her room," said Bev. "We shouldn't have interrupted you."

"Don't be silly," blurted Prudence. "We can't just go on like nothing happened!"

"Why not?" asked Bev. "Like my big brother loves to remind me, you're both adults."

"I think I need to spend some time with my daughter," said Prudence. She looked at Constance. "Could we do that?" she asked.

Constance looked nervous. "I guess so," she said.

"Then I'll just take Bobby and get him out of here," said Bev, acting five years older than she was. She turned to him. "Get dressed," she ordered.

"You two get out of here, and I'll get dressed," he countered.

Bev reached for Constance's hand, and pulled her friend up. "Show me your room," she said, as if nothing had happened at all.

Bobby waited until the two girls left the room. Bev pulled the door closed behind her. He pulled Prudence up, and smoothed her hair back, behind her.

"What on Earth are you doing?" she moaned.

"Looking at you," he said.

"They're in the next room!" she hissed.

"She had to find out sooner or later," he said. "This is going to tell her soon," he added, smoothing his hand over her belly. It was just beginning to bulge more than normal.

"She wouldn't have known who made me this way," groused Prudence.

"She's your daughter. She's a young woman herself. She's curious. You should talk to her about that. Some day she's going to end up in a room with a man, like we are right now."

Prudence looked at him. He always spoke so plainly. When he'd wanted her, he just told her he wanted her. He was so completely different than Harry had been, or any other man she knew, for that matter.

"You're right," she said, finally.

He kissed her, and they both dressed. Then he kissed her goodbye. "This doesn't change anything, as far as I'm concerned," he said. "I hope you feel the same way."

"I have to talk to Constance first," she said. "I couldn't imagine us doing this, but now I can't imagine us not doing it. I have no idea what's going to happen. You've shaken up my life something fierce, Bobby Dalton."

He kissed her one last time, and they opened the door, to go their separate ways.

Bev rode her bike slowly, while Bobby walked.

"That's what you were talking about," she said, breaking the ice. "I mean that's what you want to do to Mary ... and me."

"That's what I was talking about," he admitted. "That's what all the kissing and feeling leads to.”

"Are you going to do that to me?" she asked, sounding nervous.

"Of course not," he said. "But that's what it leads to, if you do those things with other boys."

The rest of the trip was silent.

"Do you hate me?" asked Prudence.

"Of course I don't hate you!" cried Constance, rushing to hug her mother.

"I should have told you what was going on," said Prudence.

Constance pulled back. "Mommy, mothers don't just tell their daughters who they're having sex with!"

"I have to tell you something else too, baby," said Prudence, feeling her stomach doing flip flops.

"Are you doing that with other men too?" asked Constance, her mind leaping to the obvious.

"No!" barked her mother. "Only Bobby."

"That's good ... I guess," said the girl.

"Did you really tell ...” She stopped, at a loss to remember Beverly's name.

"Bev?" Constance filled it in for her.

"Yes ... did you really tell Bev that you ... wanted to see Bobby naked?"

"Like she said," said Constance, blushing again. "We were just talking. His mother measured him for new pants one evening, when I was over there, and we all saw him in his underwear. They started talking about how they'd even seen him naked."

"You're old enough to date, now," said Prudence.

"I don't think so," said Constance, nervously. "The thought of being alone with a boy makes me get an upset stomach."

"We need to talk about that," said Prudence. "You're growing up, and you're going to have feelings like that. I should have talked to you years ago."

"About sex?" asked Constance, her voice a whisper.

"Yes," said Prudence.

"This is weird," moaned Constance.

"It can't be any worse than you seeing us ...” Prudence’s voice failed.

Constance actually smiled. "I guess not," she admitted. "That was so crazy!"

"So we can talk?"

Constance suddenly remembered something her mother had said a while back.

"You said you had something else to tell me," she said. "You never did. What is it?"

Prudence felt the flip flops in her stomach again.

"I did something ... foolish," Prudence started, nervously. "I wasn't ... careful ... with Bobby. I'm afraid I'm ... pregnant."

The range of emotions that passed over Constance's face was so many, and went so quickly, that Prudence couldn't begin to catalogue them. What came out of the girl's mouth, though, brought relief so strong that Prudence had to sit down.

"I'm going to have my own little sister!?" she squealed. "My very own little sister!"

In the next ten minutes, during which a standard conversation was impossible to conduct, there were tears of joy, and fierce hugs, as mother and daughter worked through a tremendous upheaval in their lives.

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