The Making of a Gigolo (11) - Renee Zimmerman

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Chapter Four

On Pearl Harbor Day, a day that was still subdued in America in those days, there was cause for celebration when Amanda went into labor and delivered an eight pound nine ounce baby boy, with coal black hair and blue eyes.

She would forever think that it was the excitement of sucking her father's erection that caused her water to break. She would also admit, later, that she panicked. She apologized to her father for abandoning him, and drove herself to the hospital, still in her soaked sweat pants. Once there, and in labor, she asked a nurse to call Rodney, who came to the hospital and stayed with her for a couple of hours. She elected drugs, which made the labor a bit less frightening for her. She somewhat unabashedly asked Rodney to call Bobby and tell him what had happened, thus confirming, in Rodney's mind, his and the rest of the station staff's suspicions about who had gotten her pregnant.

Bobby got there an hour before she actually delivered. The nurses giggled as Amanda alternated between telling him how much she loved him, and cursing him for doing this to her.

Afterwards, as she held their son, who she named Michael Scott - her father's and grandfather's middle names, respectively - she was overcome by awe that she had produced this perfect, tiny thing that she already loved more than life itself.

"Thank you," she said to Bobby, who had waited throughout her delivery and recovery.

"Oh, believe me," he smiled, "it was my pleasure."

"I know," she said, looking at him through lowered eyelashes. "I always felt so good when you made it so clear that you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

"Maybe we can do it again some time," he said, grinning.

"Maybe," she said softly, holding the tiny fingers of her son.

On the 20th of December, Bobby was in the hardware store, buying hinges for a job, when he saw Paul Engle walk in.

"Paul," he called out, smiling. He walked over to him.

"Bobby," said Paul, looking shy, for some reason.

"How's college? You home for the holidays?" asked Bobby.

"School's fine, I guess," said Paul. "I didn't really want to come home, but I didn't want to stay there alone. Most everybody else went home." He looked sad. "I just got here today, and already my dad has put me to work."

"What are you talking about?" asked Bobby. "Of course you want to be here, with your family for Christmas!"

"I guess," said the young man, morosely.

"Come on," said Bobby. "Don't tell me you're still pining over my sister. With all those babes at college?"

Paul looked at Bobby steadily. "I don't want them," he said. "I don't know how to talk to them anyway." He looked pained. "Is she okay?"

"Linda?" asked Bobby. "She's okay, I guess."

"Is she ... does she have a boyfriend?" asked Paul. It was obvious that he hated asking the question.

"Nope," said Bobby. "She's still pining for you too."

The casually made comment electrified Paul. "Really?" he asked, excited for the first time. "You wouldn't shit me, would you, Bobby?"

"She's a stubborn woman, Paul," said Bobby. "She's one of the most stubborn women I know, but she loved you then, and she still does, whether she'll admit it or not."

"But she's not going out with guys?" asked Paul anxiously.

"She hasn't gone on a single date since you left," said Bobby. He didn't want to admit to Paul that she hadn't had to go out. Bobby was fucking her long, deep and continuous, about every other night.

"Oh man!" sighed Paul. "Oh man," he repeated. "I was so stupid to let her go!"

"You got plans for tonight?" asked Bobby.

"I can't ask her out again," said Paul, looking terrified. "She said she never wanted to see me again."

"Then she can eat somewhere else," said Bobby. "I'm inviting you to dinner."

"Really?" Paul's voice rose a complete octave. "Why?"

"She's miserable, Paul," said Bobby. "She was a bear for weeks after you left. She's better now, but I know if she finds out you're home, she'll get all worked up again. Why don't we just get it over with? Come to dinner tonight at the house."

"You think I should?" asked the boy, completely flummoxed.

"You said yourself you were an idiot to let her go," said Bobby.

Bobby tipped off his mother, of course. She was thrilled. She liked Paul too. She went the extra mile for dinner, as a result, and it was noticed.

"Somebody coming to dinner?" asked Betty, as she was shooed away from the hot rolls.

"Yes," said Mirriam.

"Who?" asked the girl.

"Never you mind," said Mirriam. "Check the roast. It should be done by now."

"I'm nothing but a slave," moaned the sixteen year old girl.

She jumped as Bobby slapped her on her right butt cheek, sneaking up behind her.

"Get to work, slave!" he ordered.

"Owww, why'd you do that, Bobby?" she complained.

Bobby ignored her and picked up a hot roll, biting into it.

"How come he gets a roll and I don't?" she complained to her mother.

"It's his guest coming over ... that's why," said her mother, grinning at Bobby.

"Is it a girl? Do you finally have a girlfriend, Bobby?" Betty grinned. No one had tried to hide anything from the girls. Betty and her twin sister might be the youngest Daltons, but they were just as smart as the older ones. They hadn't asked any questions, because, to be honest, they didn't really care all that much, but it was obvious that there were a number of women who liked Bobby, and didn't mind if people in the house knew that.

"I have too many girlfriends already," said Bobby. "I can't pick one. It's like all the girls in the whole town want me. I'm exhausted, just trying to keep away from them!" He sighed, hamming it up and acting frustrated.

"You're so full of bull," said his little sister.

"Language!" barked Mirriam.

"Well he is," whined Betty. Then, like a lot of young women, she changed tactics, going up to her brother and putting her arms around his neck.

"So who is it?" she asked, sweetly.

"Nobody for you," he said, picking her up with his hands around her waist.

"Help!" she yelped.

He moved her to the stove and set her down.

"Check the roast, like your Mamma told you to," he growled.

Linda wandered in too, and noticed the festivities, but just assumed that it would be Prudence, or maybe that new woman, Renee, again.

"Smells good," she commented.

"You won't want to eat anything," said Bobby.

Mirriam turned around.

"You hush up Bobby!" she ordered.

"Why?" asked Linda. "What's going on?" She grew wary.

"Bobby has a guest coming for dinner," said Betty, closing the oven door. "It's ready, Mamma."

"Well then take it out, dear!" said her mother sharply. She looked at her watch. "Hurry up, it's almost time."

"Time for what?" asked Linda, still trying to figure out what was going on.

"Never mind," said Mirriam. "Go get your sisters."

She had just left the room when Bobby heard a car door slam outside, and went to the back door. Paul was there, looking very nervous.

"Just wait here for a minute," said Bobby. "We want to surprise her."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Paul, doubtfully. "She doesn't much like surprises."

"We'll play it by ear," said Bobby. "Trust me."

"Okay," said Paul, and sat down on the wooden steps.

Bobby went back in and whispered to Mirriam, who nodded.

Susie came in and sat down, still reading a book. Bobby loitered by the door, and when Linda came towards him with Matilda in tow, he stepped in front of her.

"Go on, Matilda," he said. "I need to talk to Linda privately."

"What's going on?" asked Linda, trying to peek into the kitchen.

"Nothing," said Bobby. "I invited someone to dinner, and I want you to behave yourself," he said.

"Why wouldn't I behave myself?" she asked.

Bobby pinned her to the wall and kissed her. She stiffened, but then habit took over and she kissed him back.

"None of that, for instance," he said, grinning, when he pulled back.

"You know I wouldn't do that at dinner!" she whispered. "What in the world is wrong with you?"

"I just want you to make a good impression on my guest," he said.

"Oh my gosh!" came a squeal from the kitchen, followed by very audible "Shhhh" noises and. "Be quiet!" from Mirriam.

"I guess he's here," said Bobby.

He stepped aside, and Linda lurched away from the wall to see who was there. She stepped into the doorway, and saw Paul, already seated, right next to her mother. Her sisters were spaced all around the table. There were two chairs left, one across the table from Paul, and one right next to him.

She realized her mouth was open, and closed it with a snap as Bobby walked by her and took the chair ... next to Paul.

"Bobby!" she growled, almost yelling.

He looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hi, Linda. This is Paul. He's a friend of mine. Paul ... Linda. Linda ... Paul. I'm starved. Let's eat."

Whatever they all expected to happen, including Paul, they did not expect Linda to walk over to Paul, say, "Stand up!" and pull his chair back for him. It is doubtful that anyone, particularly Paul, expected her to then turn to Bobby, lean down, and kiss him on the lips. She slid her tongue into his startled mouth, to boot. Then she dragged Paul out of the kitchen, without a word.

"Where's she taking him?" asked Matilda.

Bobby leaned back, rocking his chair back on two legs, and looked out the doorway. He looked at his mother, with one eyebrow raised.

"Looks like she took him to her room," he said. His comment was punctuated by the slamming of a door, in the direction of the kids' bedrooms.

Matilda and Betty both jumped up, as one. "I gotta hear this!" said Matilda, excitedly.

"Sit down!" ordered Mirriam.

"Awww, come on, Mamma," complained Matilda. "I bet she's yelling at him something fierce!"

"You will not intrude on your sister's private conversation!" said Mirriam, getting up.

"Where are you going, Mamma?" asked Betty.

"Never mind!" snapped Mirriam. "Eat your dinner!"

Bobby got up too.

"Now, Mamma," he said, a note of warning in his voice.

"That is no way to behave at dinner!" said Mirriam, her voice hard. "I don't care how mad she is at him for showing up like that, I expect her to be polite!"

"Mamma, they're just probably talking," said Bobby, following her up the hall. He grasped her wrist as she reached for Linda's doorknob.

"Mamma," he said, still warning her.

"We can't do that!" came an obviously male, obviously agitated voice through the door.

"Shut up!" came Linda's also loud and agitated voice.

"But honey!" came the pleading voice of Paul.

"Don't you 'honey' me, you bastard!" yelled Linda.

Mirriam struggled against Bobby's grip, trying to open the door.

"They're fighting!" she hissed.

"Leave them be, Mamma," said Bobby.

"I will not!" she said, turning to him. "You shouldn't have brought him here!"

"As I recall, you thought it was a great idea," whispered Bobby.

"I didn't know she'd act a fool and try to kill the poor boy!" hissed the woman.

"At least knock," said Bobby. He let her wrist go.

Mirriam knocked.

"Go away!" came Linda's yell from inside.

"Linda? Honey?" said Mirriam, in her best "please let me in" voice.

"Go away!" yelled Linda.

"Linda!" yelled Paul.

"Shut up!" yelled Linda.

"Please ... linda ... no ... you can't ..."

Mirriam tried the doorknob. It was locked. She pounded on the door.

"Linda jean, you let me in there this instant!" yelled Mirriam.

"Go away!" came the yell from inside.

A strangled moan came from what sounded like Paul's voice, through the door. "Ohhhh pleeeease," he begged.

Mirriam turned to Bobby. "Break it down," she said, her voice tight.

"Mamma, you're overreacting."

She took a breath to yell at him, and then stopped. Her eyes lit up. She stepped to the linen closet and opened the door. Reaching inside, she took a skeleton key off the nail. She'd just remembered it was there. Bringing it back, she bent over and inserted it in the keyhole of Linda's door.

"Mamma, please," begged Bobby. "They're just working things out."

"No they're not," moaned Mirriam. "My baby is in there. She probably has a knife or something. She's doing something horrible to that sweet boy, I just know it!"

She twisted and there was a rusty grating sound. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, already moving ahead.

Had Bobby been moving behind her, he would have run into her when she suddenly stopped, and took in a gasp of air. Bobby peeked in. It did look like there had been knock-down drag-out fight going on.

The chair had been knocked over, and there was clothing lying everywhere. Paul was lying across Linda's bed, his shirt torn open. His pants were down around his calves. Linda was stark naked. The clothing strewn everywhere was what she had been wearing when she came to supper.

She was sucking Paul's cock.

She either heard the door open, or heard her mother's indrawn gasp, because she sucked hard, pulling her mouth off of Paul's mostly hard prick, and looked over her shoulder.

"Go away!" she growled.

Then she went back to work on a moaning Paul, who lifted his head off the bed, saw Mirriam and Bobby standing there, and dropped his head back to the bed, covering his eyes with one hand.

Bobby pulled at his mother's waist, pulling her backwards on wooden legs. She stumbled, and his arms went around her, lifting her to pull her out of the room backwards. She was craning her neck as he stopped to pull the door closed. To shake her out of her shock, he slid his hands to her breasts and squeezed them.

"Looks like fun, doesn't it?" he whispered.

She went almost limp, and he held her sagging body with his hands on her breasts, turning her to find the twins and Suzie standing there, wide-eyed, at the end of the hall. Mirriam moaned, got her feet under her, stood, and pushed at Bobby's hands.

"What are you doing?" asked a breathless Matilda, staring at them.

"Mamma felt faint," said Bobby. "I had to catch her to keep her from falling."

"Do we need to call the police?" asked Suzie, frowning.

"No!" gasped Mirriam.

"What's wrong?" asked Betty. "What are they doing in there?"

Bobby put his hands on his mother's waist, and pushed her forward, toward the girls.

"They are communicating," said Bobby. "They are telling each other how they feel. We need to leave them alone, so they can sort this out."

"What should we do?" asked Betty, sounding confused.

"We should eat supper," said Bobby firmly.

It took Mirriam about fifteen minutes to recover from the shock of seeing her daughter engaged in such a raw display of sex. Not that it was a display, of course. Linda had made it perfectly clear that she wanted privacy. During those fifteen minutes Mirriam convinced herself that Linda was grown now, and that it was really a positive thing that she and her former fiancÚ had ... made up.

Then, though, as the time stretched on, and the ... making up ... also went on ... and on ... and on ... and ... on, she began to get agitated again. How long did it take to give the poor man a blow job?

That led to thoughts of other things that were obviously going on up there in her little girl's bedroom. There wasn't a word of conversation at the table. The other girls, and Bobby, were simply eating, though there were a lot of looks being traded between Suzie and her two younger sisters.

At one point, when Mirriam couldn't take it any longer, she stood up and started for the doorway.

"Mamma," said Bobby, calmly. "Sit back down."

More looks, and two grins were exchanged between the girls. Suzie, who had a little more knowledge of the things that had gone on in the house, between Bobby and her older sisters, was not amused.

"I can't take this!" moaned Mirriam.

"Then let's talk about it," said Bobby, standing up too. "Privately," he added.

He took her to her bedroom and closed ... and locked ... the door. She was so distraught by the images in her head that she didn't notice.

She noticed when he hugged her from behind again, and cupped her breasts, though.

"They're just doing this, Mamma," he whispered in her ear.

She shuddered, unable to resist loving his hands on her. The sudden and stark realization that she was turned on by what she'd seen, hit her hard. How could she be sexually excited by seeing her own daughter having sex?

"They're doing much more than that," she moaned.

His fingers left her breasts, and she sighed at the loss of sensation, until she felt him lifting the skirt of her dress up to her waist.

"What are you doing?" she whined.

"You need this, Mamma," he said softly.

His hand slid into the side of her panties, and around to the front, and she leaned back, lifting one foot automatically to step to the side and give him room.

"Nooo," she said softly.

"You'll feel better, Mamma," he whispered.

It was just a very quick, very functional orgasm that he gave her with his fingers. She leaned back against him, and spread her legs even more, until the relief shuddered through her. His arm around her supported her, and she sagged.

It worked, though. She felt the relaxation immediately, and, when he pulled his hand out of her panties, she turned, as her skirt fell, and embraced him.

They kissed, a long tender kiss, and he pulled back.

"Think you can eat now?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll need more later."

He just nodded too, and kissed her lightly once more.

The girls were still at the table when they got back. Mirriam felt a trace of a blush on her face, as she walked back into the dining room, but put that out of her mind. The girls were finished, more or less, and Mirriam just sat down and continued to eat.

Twenty minutes later a very calm Linda led a very flushed Paul back into the dining room and sat him back in the chair she'd taken him from. Bobby had already moved his plate, and put her empty one next to Paul's seat. She sat down as if nothing had happened.

"Pass the roast, please," she said, her voice light, and unconcerned. "Mamma, we've decided to get married on the third of January."

Mirriam's eyes opened wide.

"But that's less than two weeks away!" she yipped.

"We're going to have a very small wedding," said Linda. "Just the two families. We'll get married here, at the farm."

"His parents might object," said Mirriam.

"They can object all they want," said Linda firmly. "We're getting married, and that's that."

Mirriam looked at Paul, who was having difficulty looking at anything except the plate in front of him. His hands were in his lap, and his utensils lay untouched beside his plate.

"Paul?" prompted Mirriam.

It obviously took an effort for him to look up, and his face flamed red.

"We're getting married," he said softly.

Matilda seemed to sum it up for all of them, when she said, simply: "Wow!"

Of course it didn't end there. Mirriam kept quiet for half an hour, and then began to fire questions at her daughter. Getting married was one thing. Doing it in less than two weeks was another. On top of that there were questions about his schooling, and where they would live and how they would survive, among others.

But Linda was as unrepentant as it was possible to be.

"Mamma, I'd be living here, if I didn't marry him, so, while he finishes college, I'll just live here."

"That's not how it's done, dear," said Mirriam, a little tersely.

"That's how I have to do it," said Linda. "I can't stand being apart from him, and knowing he's not all mine," she said. "He's only a few hours away, and he promises to come home as often as he can on the weekends."

"I just don't understand the hurry ... that's all," complained her mother.

What Linda wasn't telling her ... about the hurry ... was that, while they were having this conversation, Linda should be wearing a sanitary napkin. In fact, she should have been almost through enduring another period. She wasn't, though. She knew it was Bobby that had caused that little problem. Bobby ... and her own insatiable need for what Paul had given her, until he went away to college. When she saw Paul, sitting at the table, her first thought was that, when he found out she was pregnant, it would be over forever. She couldn't stand the thought of that, so she went for broke.

That had worked out rather well, from her perspective. While she almost raped the young man, she told him, in stark terms, how she felt, and how she had been feeling, since they had broken up. Had Mirriam and Bobby stayed to watch, they would have been confused, because, while Paul's semen was almost jerked from his balls, to be deposited in Linda's naked pussy, she gave him the tongue lashing of his life.

And it wasn't her tongue lashing his prick, either.

She sounded like she hated him, as she quit sucking his dick and climbed up to slot his prick in her pussy. As she sank down on him, and used talented muscles to milk his penis, she yelled at him for leaving her, and hurting her, and making her miserable. As she brought his mouth to her nipples, riding him furiously, she threatened dire consequences if he ever hurt her like that again. Then she cried, telling him how much she loved him, and how she couldn't go on being separated unless she knew she would have him forever more.

Paul's response was a mixture of lust, because he had missed this too, and of similar feelings that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this astounding woman, and it didn't take much for him to cave to the idea of getting married soon.

It also didn't take much to get him to spurt her full of his sperm. There were two reasons Linda wanted his sperm in her. In the first place, she was pregnant, and a nice helping of his sperm would give her an excuse for being that way. She wasn't really being mercenary about it. Women rationalize things a little differenty than men. She had wanted Paul to get her pregnant, and he refused. If he wouldn't have refused, it would be his baby in her belly right now. So she didn't feel guilty about arranging things so that he'd think it was. If he hadn't been so stubborn, it would have been.

But there was another reason she wanted his sperm in her that night. And that was simply because she loved him, and wanted part of him inside her.

At any rate, it soon became evident to anybody who cared to pay attention that Linda Dalton was going to get married, regardless of what it took. Once that was established, there was less resistance, and more cooperation. That cooperation even extended to basically ignoring the fact that Paul stayed most, if not all, of each night in Linda's room before they got married.

Linda stopped calling him Paul. She called him "My Christmas Present" instead.

There was, in fact, a wedding at the Dalton home, and it did, in fact, take place on the third day of January, 1974. The wedding was, in fact, conducted with little fanfare. Paul's parents were there, as were all of Linda's siblings. Bobby walked her into the living room, where the ceremony was conducted.

Linda was radiant, even though she chose not to wear a formal wedding gown. Paul looked stiff in his Sunday suit, and looked a little dazed too, if the truth be known. That only lasted until the ceremony was complete. As he was told he could kiss his bride, he looked at her, with wonder in his eyes.

"We're married," he said softly.

"I know," she said, looking into his eyes steadily. "I'm very happy, Paul." It was a strangely serious moment. "You've always made me so happy," she said.

Then she kissed him. It was no peck on the lips, like many embarrassed brides and grooms perform. She kissed him with all the passion she felt inside her, and he felt it. It was at that moment that everything became real to him. Up until that time, it had all been a wild dream ... that this beautiful woman would choose him ... would continue to choose him. The reality of it seeped from her lips to his, and he relaxed. It was real, and he could finally believe it.

Since there was little in the way of wedding expenses, everybody kicked in enough money that the happy couple could run up to Kansas City and stay in a swank hotel for three days on their honeymoon.

Then Paul was back to school, and Linda, now happily married, and much more happily pregnant, settled in to wait for her husband to finish school, while she started their family. She waited almost two months to tell anyone she was pregnant. The hardest part of that was getting the doctor to stay quiet about it.

Renee spent part of almost every day of the next three weeks working with the priest on the annulment proceedings. Then he said all there was to do was wait, while higher authorities examined and evaluated the request for the procedure.

Those three weeks were good for her, in the sense that she had a goal to work toward. But they were hard for her because her mother was becoming more and more demanding about the wedding. She kept telling herself that the annulment proceedings needed to be firmly under way, before she confessed to her parents. That was made easier in yet another sense, by the fact that the priest convinced her to confess to him first. It was during that process that she was helped to understand that a lot of her bad decisions had been based on preconceived notions about Daniel, and the fact that she had submitted to his advances long before she really knew him.

It didn't make her feel any better, even though the priest gave her absolution ... but it did make her decide to be more careful with men in the future.

The first man she thought about being careful with ... was Bobby Dalton.

Once the annulment petition was submitted, and she had more time to think about other things, she realized she had no other goals. She hoped that someday her "Daniel nightmare", as she thought of it, might end. But what would she do then? For that matter, what was she going to do until then?

She needed a goal.

The only thing she could come up with, other than moving back home and admitting total defeat, was the idea of the child care center. She had no idea if she could make that work or not, but it was a tantalizing dream ... to be independent, and do something she thought she would like ... take care of children.

At the same time, she couldn't get Bobby out of her mind. Other than the annulment process, and her still fragmented thoughts about a child care center, the only thing she seemed to be able to think about was Bobby. She was at once both fascinated with him and repelled by what he was. She thought of herself as a moth, drawn to a very dangerous flame. But the more she thought about him, the more she remembered the things he had done and said.

In the "what he had done" category, there were only things that seemed helpful, both to her and, based on their reactions to him, those women he was involved with. Her upbringing insisted that he wasn't a "decent" man ... and yet, other than his sexual habits, she couldn't think of a single thing about him that wasn't kind ... caring ... thoughtful ... decent.

He had looked at her. He had "done" that, but she couldn't fault him for that. All men looked at women, particularly if they happened to see them unclothed. But he hadn't tried to take advantage of her. If anything, he was more forgiving than any man she'd ever known. He had charged her for the time it took to fix his car, but that was a pittance, compared to the damage she'd done. He had cared about her ... had been friendly toward her ... when she hadn't had a friend in the world.

In the "what he had said" category, other than the last time they'd talked, all he had said were things that were intended to help her.

In the end, it was the agony of trying to decide what to do about Bobby Dalton that caused her to make a conscious decision to try to ignore the "secret" side of his life, and concentrate, instead, on letting him be her friend.

To that end, she called him and asked him to come back to the house and start making plans for the renovation.

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