The Making of a Gigolo (10)- Elizabeth Sinderson

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Bobby didn't hear from Liz for two weeks. He thought that maybe their curiosity had finally been assuaged ... that Jeff's needs had been met ... that they could move on to ... whatever.

Then as September began to produce mild days and cool nights, he got another call.

"The last time I saw you, it looked like one of your tires was low," she said, without preamble. "You should probably drop into the station and get that checked."

"I see," said Bobby. "When do you suppose I should do that?"

"Jeff might have time to fit you in around six, this evening," she said. "Would that work for you?"

"I should be done with work by then," said Bobby.

"Good. I want you to be safe," she said.

That was it.

When he got there, the closed sign was in the window. The garage door went up anyway, so he pulled in. It was clear from the beginning that this was a continuation of a previous fantasy. Liz was there, dressed in a very short skirt and the same shirt she'd worn when they went skinny dipping, tied under her breasts again. Jeff was nowhere to be seen.

She closed the garage door as he got out.

"Can I help you sir?" she asked. "My husband owns the garage, but he's gone right now. We're actually closed."

"Gone, huh?" said Bobby, playing along. "When will he be back?"

"It might be quite a while," she said. "He's out fixing a flat tractor tire."

"I need my tires checked," said Bobby, not quite knowing where to go from there.

"Oh, I could do that for you," she said sweetly. "I'll show you how to do that." She got a tire gauge. "You might want to stand back, a little, so you can see everything."

She bent over, straight legged. Her feet were about a foot and a half apart. The short skirt pulled up, and showed she wasn't wearing panties. Her naked pudendum hung down.

"You have to unscrew this little cap," she said, taking her time doing that, and looking up at him, over her shoulder. "Then you press this thing against that little thing that sticks out." She did that. "See how something comes out of the tube?" she asked. She stood up, flushed, and showed him the white stick that had red and black numbers on it.

"I think I understand," he said. "Could you show me again?"

"Certainly, sir," she said, smiling.

She went through it again, not speaking. She looked over her shoulder, and wagged her butt at him. "Just like that," she said, standing up.

"Do you think you could show me how to check the oil?" he asked.

"A big, strong man like you doesn't even know how to check his oil?" she said, raising one eyebrow.

"I had a sheltered childhood," he said.

"Well, I guess I could show you that."

She had him pull the hood release open the hood. She looked around and went to the wrong side of the car, leaning over and stretching to reach the dip stick. Her feet came off the floor and her legs spread as she stretched.

"Let me help stabilize you," said Bobby, stepping between her spread legs. He pressed his jeans-covered boner against her naked butt, and put his hands on her waist.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"I wouldn't want you to fall off the car," he said.

"You shouldn't touch me like that!" she said, looking back over her shoulder.

He pushed the skirt up to her waist, exposing her naked buns.

"Like this?" he asked, putting his hand on her naked flesh and squeezing.

"Stop that this instant!" she cried. "I told you, I'm a married woman!"

"Why would a married woman be going around without any panties on?" he asked, massaging her butt.

"That's for my husband!" she yipped. "It's none of your business! I didn't realize it would show!"

"I think you did," said Bobby. "I think you're teasing me."

"Certainly not!" she huffed. "Now, let me go!"

Bobby pulled her back toward him and, as her feet touched the floor, he slid his hands to her breasts, cupping them.

"Just as I thought," he murmured into her hair. "No bra on those pretty titties either."

"You can't touch me like that!" she moaned. "Let me go!"

"Oh, come on, baby," he cooed in her ear, licking it and running his hands all over the front of her shirt. "You're hot to trot. I know you are. Let's just have a little fun."

"Noooooo," she cried. "I love my husband. You can't do this to me!"

He turned her around and kissed her. She quit resisting then, and brought her arms up around his neck. He pressed her against the fender of the car and rubbed her with his lump. She rubbed back.

Still kissing her, he reached out and pushed on the hood, which closed with a thump. Then his hand went to the knot in the shirt and worried it loose. She pulled her arms back and pushed at his chest, making it look like she was resisting, but, in actuality, giving him room to undo the knot.

"You mustn't do this," she pleaded. "I've never cheated on my husband!"

"He'll never know," panted Bobby.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking down at his hand as it undid the rest of the knot.

"I have to see them," said Bobby. "I bet they're gorgeous."

"Noooooo," she moaned, pushing back at him and, in the process, bending over backwards to lie on the fender. He flipped the sides of the shirt apart and her very pink, very erect nipples popped into view.

"Oh yeah!" said Bobby. He leaned over and sucked one stiff nipple.

"Noooooo," she whined. "Stop this instant!"

Bobby didn't stop. He just sucked harder, and his hand went under her skirt to slide a finger between naked, slippery pussy lips.

"Aack!" she gasped, reaching to pull her skirt up and spread her legs, so that a hidden Jeff could see what was happening. "Not there ... don't touch me there!"

Bobby worked on her until she shuddered and announced she was cumming, telling him what a horrible man he was to make her cum like that. He removed his finger from her pussy and worked his jeans loose, pushing them down to his thighs. He reached and lifted her hips, pulling her feet off the ground. Her spread thighs hit his hips and she lifted her head and tried to look down.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, still out of breath from her orgasm.

"I'm going to sample this pretty pussy of yours," he leered.

"No!" she screamed. "You can't! Not that!"

He pushed in and she groaned.

"I'm fertile!" she screamed. "Don't do this! We're trying to have a baby!"

"I'll just help you a little," grunted Bobby, starting to slide in and out.

"Nooooo please, I'm ovulating!" she screamed. "Don't ... uhhh ... oh please .... ahhhhhhh ... you can't ... shit it feels so good ... no ... please ... ahhhhhhhhheeeeeee," she squealed as she came hard. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him hard into her and letting him put his hands on her breasts. He squeezed and pulled at her nipples.

"You like that, don't you." he panted. "You're a horny bitch, aren't you?"

"Nooooo," she moaned. "I love my husband. You shouldn't be doing this! You shouldn't make me cum like this!"

Bobby rodded her with long, strong strokes.

"Nooo," she moaned. "You're making me do it again!"

She set up a chant of "Don't", followed by a long pause and then "Stop!" It got faster and faster until it merged into "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!" In his ear she whispered, "Cum in me, Bobby. Squirt me good."

He continued to pound her and then, powering into her one last time, he froze, and grunted. She wailed.

"Nooooooo I can feel you squirting in meeeeeeeee!"

She went limp then, falling back on the hood of the car and letting her head roll, with the natural tilt of the metal. Bobby grunted several more times, giving little pushes that rocked her, and made her breasts wobble and shake.

"There you go, baby," he panted. "That's for you and your husband."

He backed up, leaving her splayed on the car. Her gaping pussy lips were full of thick white spunk, which began to ooze out of her.

"You horrible man," she moaned. "You probably made me pregnant!"

She struggled up and slid off the car, leaving a big smear of his sperm that helped her butt slide off. She stood, legs apart, and lifted her skirt up, looking down to see a long drip of sperm leave her pussy lips and stretch out. The string broke and a blob splatted onto the grimy concrete between her feet.

"Look what you did!" she whined. "How will I ever explain this to Jeff?"

"Don't," said Bobby, pulling his jeans back up and fastening them. "It will be our little secret. You had a good time. Let's just leave it at that."

"I did not have a good time!" she yelled.

"You came three times," said Bobby, grinning.

"I couldn't help that!" she moaned. "I didn't want to."

"Well, think about that," said Bobby, strutting. "Next time, if you decide you want to, you might cum four or five times."

"There won't be a next time, you horrible man. Leave, at once!"

"Okay, said Bobby carelessly. "Thanks for all the things you showed me." He laughed, and went to the garage door, opening it. He got in his car and backed it out. When he didn't see her close it, he got out and went back in. Jeff already had her splayed out on another car, deeper into the shop, and was lustily fucking her.

"Cum in me, baby," she panted. "Quick, cum in me. I want it to be yours."

Bobby closed the garage door and, like before, let himself out the self-locking door of the office.

She called him the next morning and asked if he could come see them around four.

"I thought Jeff didn't close up until five or so," he said.

"He doesn't. I need to talk to you first," she said.

"Okay," he said.

When he got there at four, she let him in and led him to the kitchen.

"I have to tell you what's going on," she said. "I didn't have a chance to yesterday, but you need to know."

"Okay," he said.

"Thank you for our anniversary," she said. "I can't believe what a difference it has made in him."

"A good difference, I hope," said Bobby.

"Oh yes," she said. "We've talked about so many things ... not just you, but lots of other things too. We didn't even realize it, but we had been growing apart. I still don't understand all this, but I know that we're stronger now than ever before."

"That's a good thing," said Bobby.

"It's a wonderful thing," she said, seriously. "I didn't even realize it when we got married, but I don't think I really loved him then. I think I was just doing what I thought I was supposed to do. Now, though ... with all these changes ... I know him better. I still don't understand everything, but I know him much better than before. I really love him, Bobby."

"That's great," said Bobby.

"He's wanted me to get pregnant for a long time," she went on. "I resisted that. I was afraid that, when I got fat and ugly, he wouldn't want me anymore."

"You'll never be ugly," said Bobby. "It would be a physical impossibility."

She pinked up. "Thank you. I'm still not sure. It didn't feel ... right, somehow ... before." She looked a little scared. "Now, it does."

"So you're actually trying to get pregnant?" he asked.


"I thought it was role playing," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It was ... sort of."

"I don't understand," he said.

"The idea of you possibly getting me pregnant just drives him absolutely insane. We've made love three times a day ever since I told him I'd do it."

"So ... he wants the baby to be his," said Bobby.

"Of course," she said. "He's wanted children ever since we got married. That's a big part of this. But the risk of letting you cum in me is what really gets him going."

"How do you feel about all this?" asked Bobby.

"That's the problem," she said. "I don't know ... I'm not sure."

"So ... what do you want me to do?" asked Bobby.

"I know what he wants you to do," she said. "He wants you to keep making love to me ... and cum in me. He says it's exciting, like Russian roulette ... except better, because nobody has to die."

"I know what he wants," said Bobby, shaking his head, mentally. This was as strange as anything he'd ever thought of. "What I need to know is what you want."

"I don't know!" Her tone was both impatient and frustrated.

"What if I end up being the father?" he asked. "How will Jeff react to that?"

"He says he won't care," she said. "No, not that he won't care ... he says it won't make any difference to him ... that he'll still love me, and love the baby. He says it will be our baby, no matter what."

"And you don't believe him?"

"How can I?" she moaned. "How could a man love a baby his wife has that's not his?"

Bobby thought about Chester Chumley, who loved his wife, and the baby that Bobby had put into her and she had given birth to. Chester treated that baby like it was his own. He thought about Tilly and Jake Johnson, who were raising two babies he'd impregnated Tilly with, and about how Jake loved those babies like they were his own. He didn't know how Arthur Thompson was treating little Andrew, the boy Bobby was the father of, with Martha Thompson, but she hadn't called him, and she would have if Arthur was acting up again.

"I can tell you that it has happened already," said Bobby. "That's all I can say, though. That doesn't mean Jeff will react the same way."

"It's happened?" she asked. "With ... other women?" She thought immediately of Felicity Chumley, and how Miranda, her best friend, suspected that Bobby might be responsible for Felicity's baby.

"Yes," said Bobby.

"How many?" she asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she said.

"At least four," he said.

The reason it mattered to Liz was because if it was only one - Felicity's - then that didn't mean anything. Chester Chumley was old, and he would react to things much differently than a younger man. But, knowing there were others ... three others! ...

She looked at him.

"I like you," she said.

He smiled. "I like you too."

"I like you more than I should," she said.

"Considering what we've done, that's not too surprising," said Bobby.

"He wants you to make love to me today," she said.

"When he gets home?" asked Bobby.

"No ... before. He loves to watch, but he loves hearing me describe things too. He wants me to be naked ... on the bed ... after you've made love to me, when he gets home."

"I can't do that if it's going to hurt you," said Bobby. "You have to decide how you feel about this."

She sat there, thinking.

"The problem is I want you to," she said, finally.

"Why is that a problem?" he asked.

"Because I'm not supposed to want you to."

"He doesn't want you to ... want it?" asked Bobby, not sure what she meant.

"No, he doesn't mind that part," she said. "I think you were right. He wants me to be tempted ... to want this ... but then to choose him, instead of you."

"Have you ever been tempted to choose me?"

"No," she said. "Not like you're talking about. I really do want him ... but I want you too. It's just not in the same way that I want him. What I do with you is fun and exciting, and I like that. But I want him forever."

"How would you feel if you thought the baby was mine?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she moaned. "I'm still getting used to the idea of having a baby at all!" She looked at him and frowned. "How do you feel about these other babies ... the ones you fathered ... but other men are raising?"

"All of them are in good homes, with good parents. I'm not worried about them."

"Don't you love them?" She was frustrated again.

"Yes, of course, but I'm not their Daddy. I'm their father, though I doubt they'll ever know that. But another man is their Daddy. Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a Daddy. I'm really lucky that those children have good Daddies."

"Do you think Jeff would be a good Daddy?" she asked.

"You know him much better than I ever will," said Bobby. "I think he might be a little weird, but he seems like a nice guy. The real question is ... do you want to be a Mommy?"

She didn't have to think about that long.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I'm scared of it, but I want it. I could never understand why Jeff was so desperate for that, but I'm beginning to. I have this urge in me. When he cums in me, I want to be pregnant." She frowned. "The problem is that when you cum in me ... I want to be pregnant too."

Jeff opened the door of his house. His heart was beating wildly. Bobby's car wasn't out front. It was very quiet in the house. The living room was empty. He peeked into the kitchen, but nobody was there. The door to their bedroom was open.

His heart pounded harder as he approached. He had seen the doubt in her eyes, when he'd asked her to do this. He didn't want to push her too far. Things were so perfect right now, from his point of view, that he was in almost constant terror that he'd push her too far, like he'd done before.

He realized he'd stopped, just shy of the door. With an effort, he pushed his head forward.

She was there ... naked ... splayed out on the bed in a relaxed attitude. She looked asleep, until her head rolled toward him. He stepped into the room, to the foot of the bed. Her naked pussy glistened with white sperm.

"I need you," she whispered. "He tried to make a baby in me, but I want it to be yours."

He stayed there for hours, until he'd ejaculated in her three times. Hunger drove them out of the bedroom. And exhaustion. She had described twice how Bobby had asked her if she was really ovulating, and had accused her of role playing.

She also told him how Bobby, when he'd become convinced she was actually fertile, had said he'd be back every day at four, until she told him to stop coming.

September brought bad news. Tim had excelled in OCS. His assignment was no longer "pending". His first orders for assignment to permanent station were handed to him by a Major whose face was blank. He would not have time to go home after OCS. He would not be able to make travel arrangements for his wife to join him. If the Staff Sergeant at the recruiting station hadn't lied, he had at least glossed things over. Tim's orders would have him in Viet Nam within seventy-two hours of graduation. It would take all seventy two hours just to get him there.

He waited until the last possible moment to call Constance and break the news.

Their kitchen negotiations had resulted in Liz deciding that Bobby could cum in her once a day, while she was fertile. Jeff would have no restrictions.

Bobby, of course, was capable of ejaculating four or five times a day. Linda, still miserable about her breakup with Paul, took advantage of that.

On the night after he left Liz's house, when her husband had come home to find her freshly fucked by another man, Linda came to Bobby's room. She was ovulating too, though she wasn't aware that was why she was extra horny that night.

"I'm in the middle of my cycle," she said, sliding into bed with her brother. "You can't cum in me tonight."

"I'll pull out, then," he said.

"No you won't," she said back. "I know you. I'm on top, tonight."

"Okay," said Bobby.

She rode him to four orgasms. He didn't warn her, but she knew him well enough by now to know when he was about to cum.

She pulled off and drank him dry.

For the next four days, Bobby arrived at Liz's at four sharp. On two of those days, they talked first, about this or that. On the other two days she was ready to go when he walked in the door. He let her ride him as long as she wanted, and then got on top, so that, after he came in her, she could lie there, and wait for her husband to come home and find her, still running with his sperm.

Jeff got home early, the last day, and stood in the open doorway of his bedroom, watching, as Bobby grunted and filled Liz full. He was already naked and waiting, when Bobby got off her to get dressed and leave.

During those same four days, Linda visited Bobby every night. She wanted him on top, sometimes, but made him promise to pull out.

He did.

During the last days of September, and into the first week of October, Bobby spent his time with other women. Elizabeth didn't call him. He worked during the day, and made women happy at night, and his life went on. When two more weeks had passed, without any contact from Liz or Jeff, he again assumed that whatever had happened was finished.

He was, once again, in error.

It wasn't until November that he heard her familiar voice on the phone.

"Could you come over to talk?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.

She was dressed in a sweater and jeans when he got there. It was nippy most days, now, and cold on some.

Again they sat at the kitchen table.

"I'm pregnant," she said, without preamble.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Better and better each day," she said. "Jeff is ecstatic. He can't wait to see what the baby looks like."

"That's good," said Bobby.

"It's better than good," she said. "I'm scared as can be, but he's not. I've never felt so loved since all this happened."

She sat for a while. "We haven't been paying you," she said.

"I'm not worried about that," he replied.

"Jeff says that if anything goes wrong with your car, or your mother's car, or any of your sisters' cars, if they have them, to just bring them down. Everything will be free."

"Thank you," said Bobby. "I usually work on them myself."

"We know that," she said. "But now you won't have to. You can spend your time making money ... or making other women happy."

He grinned. "Are you happy?" he asked.

She looked at him very seriously. "Yes I am," she said. "I'm very happy."

"Good," he said. "I should probably go now."

"No," she said. "There's more."


"We want you ... I want you to come see me from now on."

"How often?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," she said. "Once or twice a month?"

"No problem," said Bobby. "Just tell me the role to play and I'll be here."

"Sometimes I may be alone," she said. "Sometimes I'll just want it to be you and me."

"I'd like that," said Bobby.

"I will too," she said.

"Right now?" asked Bobby. It was nine in the morning.

"I was hoping you'd ask," she said.

She stood up and pulled her sweater over her head. She was naked underneath it.

"I'm really horny," she said, calmly. "I'm going to need a lot of attention today."

With her already pregnant, the prohibition to him squirting in her more than once was abandoned.

Jeff didn't come home for lunch that day. It took until one in the afternoon before she'd let Bobby leave.

Life isn't always fair. We all know that, but we hope that the wheel of fate, as it spins, will not land on the pointer that points to us. It has to stop somewhere, though.

On the 4th of January, 1973, Second Lieutenant Tim Appleton, having been in Viet Nam for less than forty-eight hours, led his understrength platoon on a routine patrol. He didn't do anything wrong. He was just there when the Viet Cong ambush was sprung. The platoon lost fifteen men that day. Second Lieutenant Tim Appleton was one of them.

In less than two months the war would be over and the last U.S. Servicemember would leave Viet Nam.

Time marches on for all of us, and it marched on for Bobby Dalton as well. It is, therefore, time for this part of the story to come to a close, and for a new chapter of Bobby's life to be unveiled in the next story. Liz's story will be continued in story number eleven in this series, along with more about Linda and the others involved with Bobby.

The End

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