The Making of a Gigolo (7) - Rhonda Wilson

by Lubrican

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

Chapter Three

Bobby finished a plumbing job for the Ackermans, and then stopped at Jill's house. Today was her day, on the schedule, so he went when she'd be there. He was both surprised and pleased to see a sign in the window. It said: "BROWN PHOTOGRAPHY" in big block letters. Under that there was a phone number and instructions to call for an appointment.

He and Christy had spent many hours getting the darkroom going, and then building a studio in what had been the parlor of the old house she lived in with Jill. Jill was learning the photography business too, little by little, in the sense that she was interested in how it worked, and spent time in the darkroom with Christy. The first photographs she had ever seen developed were some that Bobby and Christy had taken at an old abandoned farmhouse. They were primarily nude shots, of each of them. Jill, who had never seen Christy nude, at the time, commented on how she could understand how Bobby might be attracted to her. She had practically salivated over the ones of Bobby, and asked if she could have one for herself. She got more than one, but was required to develop them herself. She was very proud of the results, which were framed, and hanging in her bedroom, on all four walls.

Bobby had laughed, the first time he went in there.

"I like looking at you," Jill had said, dropping her clothes on the floor. They had made very sweet love indeed, that day.

She met him at the door, as usual, wearing only panties. Jill was as hot-blooded a woman as Bobby had ever met, and had been since she let him into her sexual life. He was of the opinion that being pregnant had increased her desires, if anything.

He took her through two orgasms with his mouth, and then propped her butt up high with pillows, until he could enter her while standing on his knees. Her belly was getting too big for him to lie fully on her, and she liked it this way because his prick slid along the front of her vaginal canal, which seemed to be particularly sensitive.

She was insatiable, today, so he kept from cumming, so she could have orgasms until she was too tired to have any more. It wasn't until she was on top, riding him languidly, between orgasms, that she told him about Janet.

"There were some women at the diner today," she said, rocking slowly. "We talked about you."

"Me?" he asked. He cupped her breasts, which were fuller now than when he'd met her. He assumed it was being pregnant that had made them swell a bit.

"Well, not by name," she said, her hips taking up a rhythm.

"Tell me about it," he said.

"They're best friends or something. I always see them together. Anyway, one of them is divorced."

She didn't say anything more, so Bobby prodded. "Okay."

"She wanted to know about our baby," said Jill. "You know, like who the father was and all that."

"And you told her?"

"Of course not, silly," she said, slapping his chest lightly. "But then she wanted to know how I found you."

"So you told her?" he said.

"No! Will you be quiet? I'm telling this story."

"You're taking your sweet time about it," he said, smiling.

"I'm not in a hurry here," she said, rocking faster.

"It feels like you're starting to get in a hurry," he said, grinning.

"Hush!" she said. "Ohhh you feel so good. I can't think when we're doing this!"

He pulled her down to suck at her distended nipples, and her hips jerked spasmodically.

"Ohhh yeah," she moaned. "Just like that ... Ohhhhhh ... Ohhhhhh, I love you so much!"

Because of her belly she could only rest with her hands on his chest, her hips still twitching, and her pussy rippling as she kissed him.

He let her catch her breath, while he put his forearms up, pushing so that her shoulders would hold her weight, instead of her belly. Her head hung, and her hair got in his face. Finally she sat back up, but didn't move. She had done this before ... just sitting, impaled. He eventually went soft, if she didn't move, but that was no problem. She knew how to get him hard again, and it didn't take long.

"So, they wanted to know how you found me," he prompted.

"Yes. I think she's lonely. I've never seen her with a man before, though. I heard them talking about how hard it is to find a good man."

"And you thought of me," he said, grinning.

"Well ... you are pretty decent ... for a man." Her voice made the word "man" sound like it was a disease.

"I'm not looking for a wife," he said.

"I don't think that's her aim," said Jill. "She's been divorced twice, and when I told her you tried to do the right thing, and I wouldn't let you, she seemed to like that idea. I don't think she wants a husband. She's just lonely, and probably horny."

"Like you?" He grinned.

"Nobody's as horny as me," she growled.

Then she started rocking again.

He flipped her over, and took her from behind, twisting and pinching her clit with his fingers as he slammed into her. She liked it rough, sometimes, just like Christy liked it rough, sometimes, and she reveled in it now as he dominated her.

"If you weren't pregnant already," he growled. "I'd be making you pregnant right now!" He pushed hard, and she pushed hard, and he squirted her full of spunk.

They cuddled then, while she idly smeared some of his semen over her clit, and rubbed it gently.

"So what does this have to do with me?" he asked.

"She asked if you had an opening in your schedule." She giggled.

"Schedule?"

"I told her it wasn't like that," she said, smiling.

"I may have to make a schedule," he said darkly, "if you start giving me away."

"Ohhhh no, mister. I'm not giving you away. A little piece of you is mine, and I'm not giving that up."

"I can barely take care of you and Christy and ..." He stopped.

"The rest of your harem?" she teased.

"It's not a harem," he said.

"If you make them feel like you make me feel, it might as well be," she sighed.

"I'm glad you're not jealous," he said, quietly.

"I love you," she said. "And I know that you love me. That's enough for me." She snuggled. "And a lot of this, of course."

"I don't know," he said, with doubt in his voice.

"Why don't I just tell her to hire you to fix something," said Jill. "Then you can meet her, and decide for yourself. I told her there were no guarantees."

"I guess I could do that," he said. "What's her name again?"

"Janet," said Jill. "Janet Griswold."

"Okay, give her my number," he said.

"Don't you want to know what she looks like?" asked Jill, her voice catty.

"That's not the point," said Bobby. "I decided to sleep with you ... didn't I?"

She squealed her false outrage, and climbed up on him, trying to tickle him. She got the worst of the deal though. Sisters had tried to tickle Bobby all his life, and he could control that.

Jill didn't have the same talent.

Jill looked up when the door opened. They were together again! They must be very good friends indeed. It was morning, so she went ahead and put cinnamon rolls on plates, hooked two cups on her fingers, and carried the coffee pot with her. She set the pot down, distributed the plates, and then put the cups down and filled them.

"So ..." Janet looked eager.

Jill reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She held it up, out of reach, and moved it across her body to her shoulder. Janet's eyes followed it like it was something good to eat and she was starving.

"What's broken, at your house?" asked Jill.

"What?" Janet looked confused.

"Everybody has something at home that's broken, or doesn't work right. Dripping faucet? Squeaky door? What's broken at your house?"

Janet looked blank, but then said: "The drain under my sink drips?" That was true. She kept a plastic bucket under the sink, and had to empty it every once in a while.

"Perfect!" said Jill, handing her the paper. "This is the name of my handyman. He's very good at fixing things like that." She smiled brilliantly. "If you need anything else, just wave."

She turned around and left.

"But what about ..." Rhonda was staring after the waitress. She looked back at Janet. "What's going on?" she complained.

Janet was staring at the paper. She knew this man. She knew his mother, actually. His mother was a war baby mother. Janet had sat with them at town celebrations before. As a divorced woman, she was welcome in that group. She could think of several of his sisters, but had only a vague impression of his looks. She thought of him as being very young, though.

"Janet?" complained Rhonda. "What about the man?"

"This is the man," said Janet, folding the paper and putting it in her purse.

"But that's her handyman," said Rhonda. She blinked. "Oh!" she said. "But that's supposed to be my man, Janet!"

"I know that, honey," said Janet. "You just let me handle everything. We're going to get you taken care of. Now, eat your roll, and drink your coffee. We have things to do!"

This was the fifth time Constance had gone on a date with Tim Appleton. She liked him. He was funny, and kind, and very patient too, she suspected. He wasn't the first boy she'd gone out with, but he was the first boy who had asked her out more than twice. He'd made it very plain that he'd like to kiss her when he walked her to her door too, but she hadn't been able to let him do that. She was too nervous about it. That was one reason the fact that he'd asked her out again - four more times, now - meant so much to her. She liked men who let her be who she wanted to be.

It was early February, and he had already asked her to the Valentines dance at school. Tonight, they had gone to the movie house in town, and watched Diamonds Are Forever, which had been released last year, but had only come to Granger in January. It was still running, and people were going to watch it two and three times. It had been exciting, and colorful, and it made her glad that he wanted to hold her hand.

She knew about sex. She had seen Bobby having sex with her mother. She had seen him almost having sex with Bev one night too, as she stood with two of his other sisters in the same room, her eyes wide. She had been kissed by Bobby, several times, and had felt the pressure inside her to do things with him. Sexy things.

He had told her she wasn't ready, though, and the relief had been palpable. She loved kissing him, though, and it brought those feelings back. She was afraid that, if she let Tim kiss her, she'd want to do the same things with him.

But this was their fifth date. She hadn't let him do more than hold her hand, and she wasn't so stupid as to think that, if she kept putting him off, he wouldn't lose interest.

She felt a whole flock of butterflies in her stomach, as she stopped and turned to him, standing in front of her door.

"I had a really good time tonight," said Tim.

His eyes looked so big! So brown! So deep!

"Me too," she whispered.

"I can't wait until the dance," he said.

"Me neither," she sighed.

"I sure wish I could kiss you," he said.

"I think tonight, you can," she said.

It was wonderful, she thought, as she felt his soft lips on hers. It wasn't all zingy, like Bobby's lips made her feel, but it was still wonderful, and she decided that he could kiss her again, before this kiss was even done. Her arms seemed to go up, all by themselves, and they draped around his neck. It seemed to go on for ten minutes, and she loved every second of it.

"Wow!" he sighed, pulling back. "That was awesome!"

"Thank you for being patient with me," she said, feeling dizzy. "I'd better go in now."

"Okay," he breathed.

Then his lips descended on hers again, and it happened all over again.

Six kisses later, she pushed him away, panting.

"I really have to go in now," she panted.

"Okay," he said, grinning. "Man! I can't wait until the dance!"

She felt like she was walking on air, as she went in.

Bobby picked up the phone only because he happened to be standing by it when it rang. Usually, there was a stampede of girls. With five teenage girls in the house, not counting Flo, all of whom had friends or boys calling them, competition to get to the phone before a sister could embarrass whoever the call was for was intense.

"Daltons," said Bobby.

"Um ... Mister Dalton?" came a female voice.

"This is Bobby Dalton," said Bobby.

"Hi." There was a long pause.

"Hi," he said back. He grinned. This must be the woman Jill had told him about. She sounded nervous already.

"Uh ... this is Rhonda Wilson. I live on Washington. I got your number from Jill, at the Wagon Wheel."

It was the wrong name, but maybe she was giving his name out for other reasons too.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

"I have an outlet that doesn't work," she said. "Do you do that kind of thing?"

"If it's just an outlet I can do it," he said. "I don't do anything more complicated. You'd need an electrician for that."

"Oh! No ... this is just an outlet. I haven't used it for years. If you're too busy that's fine."

She sounded like she was in a panic.

"No, that's fine," he said. "I can do that. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Now she sounded worried. "I guess that would be okay."

"Is there a better day?" he asked.

"My husband is a day sleeper," she said. "This wouldn't make too much noise, would it?"

"No noise at all," he said.

"Oh! Okay." She sounded petrified. "Tomorrow morning? Maybe around ten?"

"Ten is fine," he said. "Address?"

"Oh! Of course! How silly of me!" She sounded like she was about to cry. She stammered out a number, and the line went dead.

At ten in the morning, the next day, Bobby parked in front of the address he had been given and trod through the un-shoveled snow on the walk. His knock was answered by a woman who, quite frankly, looked him up and down. He had only a small tool bag in his hand. The job he was there to do might take fifteen minutes. To be truthful, he was checking her out, as much as she was checking him out. She was nice looking, with honey blond hair and a good figure.

"Rhonda?" he said.

"No, I'm Janet," said the woman. "You must be the Dalton boy."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said.

She frowned, and he remembered that women under about fifty didn't like being called "Ma'am" in some cases. It made them feel old.

"You're older than I imagined," she said.

"Well," he said patiently. "I was born, and then, after that, I had birthdays. I couldn't really do anything about it."

He got a smile, and she stepped back.

"Rhonda's in the kitchen," she said.

Since he didn't know where the kitchen was, he waited, to follow her. She had nice hips encased in jeans that weren't tight, but weren't loose either. Her butt looked round and firm.

Rhonda turned out to be a housewife. It wasn't fair, but Bobby classified women based on their overall look. Janet didn't look like a housewife. She looked like a woman who was trying very hard to retain her youth. The way she styled her hair, and the kind and amount of makeup she wore, were all designed to make her look younger than she really was. He thought that was sad, in a way, because most of those women would look good any way they were, at least to a man who was willing to look past the skin. Once you liked a woman, it didn't matter how she looked. She looked good, because you liked her.

Rhonda, though, looked like a housewife. She had that little extra flesh about her, that said she didn't exercise enough, and that drab hair that said she didn't take very good care of it. Her face was pale, from not getting out in the sun, and her eyes had that hopeless look in them that said she knew she was stuck in her marriage, which wasn't going any place, and never would. She looked tired.

She also looked nervous. She had been nervous on the phone too. He wondered what she was nervous about. According to Jill, it was Janet who was interested in his ... talents. Apparently, Janet had her friend make the call. There were any number of reasons she might have done that. She might not want him to know where she lived. She might have been afraid that someone on the other end of the phone would recognize her name. She might not have a phone, for that matter.

"Hi," he said, putting on a smile. "You have an electrical problem."

She blinked at him, and her eyes darted all over his body, but not in the same way Janet's had. Janet had appraised him. Rhonda seemed to be unable to decide where to look, or how long to look there.

"Rhonda's a little shy," said Janet, who had sat down and picked up a cup of coffee.

"Well, you don't need to be nervous," he said. "Just show me the fuse box, and the plug that doesn't work, and I'll see what I can do."

Rhonda moved then, going to the back, where there was a porch like room that had a water heater in it. To one side, and up a little, was the electrical panel. Then she took him to the living room, and pointed at an outlet.

He knelt down and pulled out an outlet tester, pushing the leads into the holes. The light didn't light up. It didn't for the other half of the outlet either. He walked across the room and turned on a lamp that was plugged into the wall there, and then turned to Rhonda.

"I'm going to go pull the fuse for this circuit. When that lamp goes off, yell to me, okay?"

She nodded, and he left her there. He had to go by Janet, who had been watching them. He was lucky that the box had been updated, and had breakers in it, instead of fuses. They were labeled too. He flipped a switch.

"Hey!" came a female voice.

He went back, pulled the plate, and found that one of the leads had come loose. It had arced a little bit, but he cleaned it off with his knife and bent it a bit so that, when he pushed it back under the screw there would be better contact. He turned that screw tight, and gave each of the others a bump too, just to make sure. Sometimes, as things heated and cooled, which caused expansion and contraction, they came loose.

He was pretty sure that was it, so he remounted the outlet in the box, but left the cover off, just in case. When he flipped the breaker on, and returned, he unplugged the lamp that was on, and plugged it into the outlet he'd just fixed. The light came on, and he unplugged the lamp again. He put the cover back on, stood up, turned around, and said: "All done."

"That's it?" Rhonda had said her first words.

"It was just a loose wire," he said.

"That's all?" she asked. "You've only been here ten minutes!"

"Sometimes things go quickly," he said. "I still have to charge you for a whole hour, so if there's anything else that needs fixing, you've got fifty minutes left."

Rhonda blinked. She did that a lot. "The towel bar!" she blurted. "In the kitchen. It's been loose for years."

She took him there. There were two screws in the bar, one of which had pulled completely out, or been stripped when it was installed. The other was loose. He went to the car and got two screws that were slightly longer and slightly larger in diameter. He put them in the old holes, and the towel bar was solid again. He looked at his watch.

"Forty-five minutes left," he said, grinning.

Rhonda became frantic, running here and there, as she remembered more little things that were loose, or damaged. Some he couldn't fix without parts, and he told her so. Three other things got tightened up, or adjusted.

"You still have ten minutes," he said, smiling.

"But I don’t have anything else you can fix right now," said Rhonda. The corners of her lips turned up, just a little.

"Tell you what," he said. "If you have me fix those things I couldn't do today, I'll give you ten minutes credit when I take care of them."

"Oh!" said Rhonda. "All right. How much do I owe you?"

"Five dollars," he said.

"Five dollars!" she gasped. "But you fixed all those things!"

"I'm only charging you for an hour," he said. "That's five dollars."

"That doesn't seem like enough," she said. "I mean you fixed electrical things. When I called the electrician, he said it would be twenty dollars just to come to the house!"

"I don't charge that much," said Bobby.

"I'll get my purse," said Rhonda, and left the room.

"I wish I made five dollars an hour," said Janet, who had sat and watched the whole thing.

Bobby grinned at her. "So far, today, five dollars is all I've made. Sometimes, you're ahead to get less per hour, if you get more hours."

"How would you like to make ten more dollars?" asked Janet.

"Sure," he said. "You have things needing fixed too?"

"No," said Janet. "Jill mentioned that you have ... um ... other talents."

He had wondered when the subject would be broached and, for that matter how it would be broached.

"You want to ... hire me? He asked. "For my ... other talents?"

"I want to hire you to take care of her," said Janet. "She's in a tough spot."

"She's married," said Bobby.

"Yeah, but that won't be a problem," said Janet. "Actually her marriage is the problem."

Rhonda came back into the room with a five dollar bill in her hand, and an actual smile on her face.

"Well that was certainly worth five dollars to me," she said. "Thank you very much!"

"You're more than welcome."

When he didn't move, or leave, Rhonda looked at him curiously.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asked.

"That would be nice," he said.

"I was just talking to Bobby ..." Janet turned to him. "Can I call you Bobby?" He nodded and smiled. "I was just talking to him about the other reason we wanted to hire him."

Rhonda stiffened.

"Oh, Janet, you didn't!"

"Of course I did, honey. I told you I'd work it all out."

"Oooooo I'm so embarrassed," moaned the woman at the counter. She spilled coffee, and wiped it up.

Janet turned to Bobby.

"Anyway, as I was saying ..."

"Tell you what," said Bobby, interrupting her. "You say Rhonda here is the ... customer?"

Janet looked at him, and there was something like fear in her eyes. "Yes," she said, almost carefully.

"Well then," he said, smiling. "Why don't Rhonda and I spend a little time talking, and get to know each other. It might be a little awkward, though, if you stayed, Janet. You wouldn't mind leaving us alone, would you?"

Janet looked like she didn't know what to do, and couldn't make up her mind anyway.

"Unless you like to watch," said Bobby, grinning widely. "Some people like to watch, you know. And I'm fine with that! I have to charge a little more, of course, but if you want to watch, that's fine with me."

"No!" gasped Janet, easily able now to make up her mind about what to do. She wanted to leave, and she wanted to leave quickly. She tried to salvage her dignity, though. "No, I don't particularly like to watch, and of course you want to be alone, so I'll just mosey on home. Rhonda, dear? Be sure to give me a call when you're ... um finished with Bobby here. We have a lunch date, remember?"

Rhonda's head was down, and her shoulders were stiff.

"I'll be right back," he said softly to her. "Don't worry."

He turned to Janet, who was standing and moving. "I'll just walk Janet out, and then I'll be back. You'll have a real good time, I promise!"

Janet almost ran from him, to the front door. She paused only long enough to face him. He could tell it took all her courage to do it too.

"She's my best friend," she said. "I love her, and she needs this. Don't you dare hurt her, or make her feel bad. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." This time, he used the word intentionally.

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>