The Making of a Gigolo (12) - Janet Griswold

by Lubrican

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

Chapter Three

On the way back to the house, she got nervous again. Somehow she had agreed to do this weird thing he wanted to do. She finally decided that she had agreed because it was so weird ... so different than anything either of her ex-husbands would have done.

Then, when they got there, he asked her to fix them both something hot to drink. She could offer coffee, tea and spiced apple cider. He chose the cider, and talked about other things, sitting at the kitchen table like any guest. He wasn't pushy and she found, to her surprise, that she had the urge to get on with things.

"Are you ready?" she asked, suddenly.

"I've been ready since we got back," he said.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

"I was waiting for you to be ready," he said.

"Where should we do this?" she asked.

"I think you should decide that," he answered.

Janet wasn't used to a man being so ... malleable! She wasn't used to making decisions like this. Not with a man present, and sex on the table. Still, he just sat there, looking handsome. She made herself think. It was daytime. The bedroom seemed wrong ... too intimate. There were drapes in the living room. She could close them. But that room was so big. It wouldn't seem intimate at all. She thought about what was going to happen. She was going to expose herself to him ... and he would do the same, for all intents and purposes. That didn't strike her as being all that intimate, really.

"The living room," she said, making a decision.

"Fine," he said.

He got up and went there, not looking back to see if she was following or not. As she did follow him, she saw him unbuckle his belt, and let the ends hang. He didn't do any more, though, and sat down in an arm chair.

She closed the drapes and watched as he turned on a floor lamp beside his chair.

Oddly, Janet suddenly felt calm. She had done something like this for husband number two, standing in front of him, and teasing him by showing him things. She knew how to unbutton her shirt, slowly, and let it hang open. She knew how to tease him. So she did the same thing with Bobby. It was role-play, of a sort, and something she felt familiar with.

"It's awfully hot in here," she said, fanning her face with her hand. "I must have the heater set too high."

She unbuttoned three buttons, and pulled at the shirt, to suck air in and blow it out.

"Don't you think it's hot?" she asked.

Bobby sat, and just looked at her.

"Does seem kind of warm," he said, his voice neutral.

She undid the rest of the buttons, and let the shirt hang, exposing her white bra.

"You look good," he said, his voice soft.

"Really?" she asked, fishing for a compliment.

"You'd look a lot better without that shirt," he said. "And you'd be cooler too."

"You think so?" she asked, pulling the shirt apart. She waved it back and forth, like it was an odd pair of wings, fanning the breeze, and then let it slide down her arms. She felt nervous again, but it was offset by something else. She was with a man, doing sexual things. It had been a long time, and part of her couldn't wait for something to happen.

"Yeah," he said. "You definitely look better that way."

"I suppose you think I'd be cooler with this bra off too," she said, teasing.

"Well, it seems reasonable," he said.

She looked at his lap. There was a nice bulge there. When he saw her eyes go there, he moved his hand, and rubbed that bulge.

"You're making me hard," he said.


"You're a good looking woman, Janet," he said.

With him just sitting there, not on his feet or able to reach her, she felt good about that comment.

"It's been a long time since any man has seen my breasts," she said.

"I feel very lucky," said Bobby.

"They sag a little," she said.

"A little sag can look sexy," he suggested. "Let me see."

She reached behind her and flipped the catch loose, but held the bra over her breasts with her other arm.

"This is so strange," she moaned.

"I just want to see them," said Bobby softly. "I've thought about them a lot, but I don't know what they really look like."

"You've thought about them ... before?" she asked.

"Ever since I've known you," he said.

"You're kidding," she said, truly surprised.

"Not at all," he said. "When I first heard about you, I thought it was you I was going to be hired for ... not Rhonda. When I saw you, I decided I was going to like it."

"I never knew that," she sighed.

"I didn't think you wanted to know that," he said.

She closed her eyes, and let the bra drop down her arms, catching it in both hands. She stood stiff.

"They're different than I thought they'd be," he said very softly. "Even better."

"Ohhhh," she moaned.

"I love the way they droop a little bit," said Bobby. "It makes the nipples look like eyes, looking down."

Her eyes popped open. Nobody had ever told her what her breasts looked like. Was he serious? She looked down.

"Really?" she asked.

"I'm not going to tell you what they make me want to do," he said. "I promised I'd only look."

"What about ...?" She looked at his lap again.

"Can I?" he asked. "I want to, but not if it's going to make you nervous."

"Yes," she almost whispered. "Go ahead."

He stood, which made her jump, but all he did was unbutton and unzip his pants. He bent over, and she saw the pant legs bunch up as he shoved them down. When he stood again, she sucked in air. Like so many other women, all she'd ever seen was a circumcised cock. His looked so different that she didn't, at first, think of it as a penis. It looked more like a thick, long finger, with slightly baggy skin on it.

Then he sat down again, leaned back, gripped it, and began stroking.

"Ahhhhhhh." The sound came from his mouth, and it sounded like he was very pleased. It sounded like someone who has just taken a drink of good whiskey, and is appreciating the taste.

"I can't believe you're doing that," she gasped.

"I said I wanted to," he said, his voice deep. "You said I could."

"Yes, but ... I didn't think you really would," she said weakly.

"Does it bother you?"

"No," she said. "But this is just so weird!"

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

She stopped, and took inventory. "No!" she said.

"Mission accomplished," he panted, his hand moving faster now. "Almost."

She had no idea what he'd do when he came. She'd never seen anything like this before. She was fascinated, in one sense, because while all girls knew boys did this, she'd never seen one doing it.

"It looks like you're hurting yourself!" she gasped.

"Oh no," he panted. "Could you come just a little closer?"

She stepped toward him, still five or six feet away.

"They're so gorgeous," he panted. "Your nipples look so delicious. I want to suck them." His face twisted. "I'm sorry," he said. "I said I wouldn't do that."

Janet didn't cringe at all. That was because she was astonished that a man had apologized to her about having a sexual desire. No man had ever done that. She could see that desire in his eyes ... that much was normal. She was used to that. But for him to be sorry for breaking his own self-imposed rule ... that was something very interesting, and exciting in a way.

"I'll forgive you this time," she said suddenly, flush with the new and exciting concept of being in control of a sexual situation.

"I couldn't help it," he said, as his hand flashed back and forth. "They look like they're full of sweet milk. That makes me want to taste them, and the milk in them."

She was, again, fascinated by a man saying something like that. She knew men were interested in womens' breasts, but had never thought it might be because of what those breasts were actually for. She'd had her breasts as for as long as she could remember, but had never imagined them giving milk. She tried to do that now ... trying to imagine what it would feel like for Bobby to suck that imaginary milk out of them.

She was distracted from that, and then fascinated more at the appearance of his penis, because the tip protruding from his hand was, alternately, a fat, wrinkled mass of loose skin, and then, suddenly, a shiny purple knob. It looked almost like magic to her.

"I want to cum," he huffed. "Would that be all right?"

She didn't answer him ... didn't know how to answer him. This was all too new to her, and she couldn't think.

"Please?" he moaned.

He was actually asking her permission! "Yes ... okay," she yipped, hearing what sounded like pain in his voice.

She did step back when a streak of white shot out of the tip of his penis, going a foot and a half into the air. She was astonished at the power of it ... how far it went ... at how much of it there was. Then, before she could process that, it happened again, and then still again. Each long string of white leapt a little less far into the air, and she could tell that the volume was diminishing, but it overwhelmed her to realize that that's what these things did inside a woman. Her husbands had cum in her dozens of times, but she hadn't realized just how powerful it was, up inside her ... how much there was. She had felt them, when they did it, but that memory didn't mesh with what she was seeing now.

Then, just like that, his hand dropped away from the penis that had so fascinated her, leaving it lying, only half hard, now, and looking tired, somehow.

"I made a mess," he panted. "If you get me a washcloth, I'll clean it up."

Janet's eyes went to the floor, where there were tangled lines of cum, looking very white against the dark, polished hard wood.

"Okay," she sighed, almost disappointed that it was over.

She didn't even remember she was topless until she was getting the washcloth wet. There wasn't anything she could do about it. Her shirt was in the other room ... with him. She had a sudden concern that he'd be standing up. He hadn't looked so imposing sitting there. She almost sighed with relief when she found him still sitting, with his pants still around his calves, his penis soft now.

He stood when she came into the room, and bent to pull up his pants. Then, instead of reaching for the washcloth, he picked up her blouse and handed it to her, trading it for the washcloth.

"You are a beautiful woman," he said, standing only inches away from her. "I could get used to seeing you this way."

She blushed, realizing that this man had completed a sexual act while looking at her ... thinking about her. She could imagine what he wanted to do. She knew it went far beyond putting his lips on her breasts. She felt a growl in her stomach, as if she was hungry.

She slipped the shirt on, while he got to his hands and knees and wiped up his spend. Something inside her was enjoying this ... this man who asked to do things, instead of demanding them ... this man who would get on his hands and knees and clean up, instead of leaving it for her ... this man whose eyes were so hot as they stared at her breasts.

She left the shirt unbuttoned, waiting for him to stand up. She wanted to see his eyes looking at her again.

Janet knew something was different when Bobby stood up, looked at her breasts, smiled, and then said he had to go. She knew it was different because, for the first time since she'd known him, she didn't want him to go.

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

"Okay," she said, somewhat meekly. She didn't like the sound of her voice.

"I think we made progress today," he said. "Maybe we can make more progress another time."

"Maybe," she said, trying to make her voice sound more firm.

"It will all be up to you," he said. "It will always be up to you."

"I'm not used to that," she admitted.

"We can work on that, next time," he said.

She knew something was different after he left too. She knew it when she realized she was as horny as she'd ever been. She thought it was a little odd that it hit her after he left, but ignored that. Instead, she went to bed with her dildo.

She had to use it three times before she could get to sleep.

Poor Chuck had no clue what was going on as the twins traded off dates with him, until he got to the point where they let him kiss them good night.

Then he could tell.

They might look exactly alike, and because they were sharing so much information, they might remember what each other's past dates were like. But they kissed him differently.

It turned out to be Betty that he confronted about it. She caved and confessed everything, at which point Chuck, who thought it was pretty weird at first, realized that he had a pretty good thing going. So he swore Betty to secrecy, and played his own game.

Turnabout is, after all, fair play.

Matilda found out about that game, when he said, "I just have to feel them again, baby," and slid his hand inside her sweater and then into her bra one night. The first thing she thought of was that Betty hadn't told her this had happened, but she'd always wondered what this would feel like, and just kissed him harder. When he ended up sucking them too, telling her how happy she was making him to let him do this for the very first time, Matilda decided to pay her sister back by not telling her about that.

Divide and conquer. It's been a successful tactic for thousands of years.

Betty and Matilda, being the youngest in the family, and hanging together so much, had been somewhat insulated from their big brother's ... activities. It wasn't that the clues weren't there for them, and it wasn't because they were dim-witted. They just didn't pay that much attention to what was going on around them. They had roomed with Suzie for most of their lives, until a room became available for her when Flo got married to Ted. Then, when Linda got married too, they could have had separate rooms, but chose to keep living together. They were as close as twins can be. To be honest about it, they stayed in a world of their own, for the most part.

At the same time, they were aware of their sisters and brother. Bobby had done dozens of things for them, such as customizing their bikes, when they were younger, and building them a tree house retreat of their very own in one of the big old elm trees not far from the house. He had wrestled with them and babysat them. He had cooked them dinner and taken them to activities. They had snuggled next to him on cold winter nights, watching TV. And, being a brother, instead of a sister, he had treated them not as the youngest, and therefore the least privileged - but as just his sisters, who happened to be twins, equal with all the rest. He was always there for them when it came to tough homework, and he didn't make them do all the chores by themselves, helping instead. When they had started going to school dances, he critiqued their choice of apparel, and made suggestions about how to handle boys.

In short, they loved him. He was a special man in their lives.

At the same time, they ignored him more than any of his other sisters did, with the possible exception of Suzie, who was in an academic world of her own, both before and after she went to college.

And, to be frank, they ignored much of what their older sisters did too, because they were, to a large extent, discriminated against by those sisters ... at least in their own opinion. They were always treated like the youngest. That was true, of course, but it still rankled.

One thing they didn't ignore was their nieces and nephews. They were drafted into babysitting duty, occasionally, but didn't care, because they were fascinated with the tiny human beings they were entrusted with. The only thing that was odd about that was that they never noticed the odd resemblance of those babies to their brother.

It was in fact babysitting for Jordan, now two years old, and Randall, who was almost five months old, that gave the twins their first chance to examine that strange and wonderful thing called a penis. Diaper changes were an adventure, especially with Randall, because you never knew when that thing would suddenly erupt. Jordan was in the midst of being potty trained, which required manipulating his little penis for him, to aim it into the toilet, and hope that it would go off that way. It was inevitable that, sooner or later, one of the boys would have an erection, and the first time that happened was cause for much contemplation and discussion between the girls.

Now that Chuck had upped the ante, so to speak, and was fooling the girls into letting him take more and more liberties with their fresh, young, inexperienced bodies, the comparison between Jordan's cute stiffy and what Chuck pressed against the front of their jeans, was inevitable too.

Chuck was able to make his turnabout game last for almost a month before the jig was up. What led to that was his attempt to slide his hand into Matilda's pants. He'd gotten her topless, and she'd wiggled and sighed as he sucked her tender, stiff nipples. He still wasn't sure which one he was mauling, but he didn't care, at this point. He knew they kissed differently, and was beginning to notice other small differences in their mannerisms, particularly when they got really turned on.

It was for that reason that he wanted to get his hands in their pants. He was pretty sure their orgasms would be different too.

It wasn't all in the name of scientific observation, of course. Chuck Cunningham wanted to get his rocks off, and he wanted to do it in both of the Dalton twins.

The girls, however, had precluded his success. Even though they had been withholding information from each other for weeks, which led to the sudden acceleration ... and success ... of Chuck's advances, there was something he didn't know, and it unmasked him.

"You can't do that," yipped Matilda, as his fingers wormed their way into the waistband of her jeans.

"Oh, come on," moaned Chuck. "You let me last time."

She pulled back, staring at him, and her hand went to his wrist and pulled hard.

"Take me home!" she demanded.

"Don't be like that, Matty," he said, using the pet name he had invented for her. That pet name had been laughed at between the girls.

"Take me home now, Chuck!" she said, her voice ominous.

He knew something had happened. He just didn't know what. That was understandable, because he had no clue that the twins, when they were still fifteen, had made a pact. That was when they had discovered the joy of rubbing between their legs. They had talked about it, and tried it the first time together. They had been very pleased with the results, and had often done it together since then.

Like a lot of young girls, they didn't believe that anybody else actually did that. They heard other girls talk about how this or that boy had tried to "get his hand in my panties". All of those girls swore up and down they hadn't let the boy do that. Neither twin could imagine letting a boy touch them like that. It was too weird. But they liked touching themselves. It was their secret and it was special. It was so special, in fact, that they made a pact that neither of them would let any boy touch them between the legs until both girls were ready to let a boy do that ... which both girls were sure would be ... never.

It was that pact that rang alarm bells in Matilda's mind. It wasn't that she wasn't ready to be touched there ... at least where Chuck was involved. She loved making out with him. But she knew, somehow, that Betty would not have let him do that, when she was out with him the previous week. Betty might have let him touch her titties, but she wouldn't let him touch her there. Not without talking about it first, and certainly not and then keep quiet about it.

She confirmed that as soon as Chuck, still pleading, let her out at the house, and she went inside to confront her sister.

That was also when they figured out they had been played against each other.

There was anger, at first, as the two realized that the other had withheld information. Then there was the realization that they should have known, because they had actually talked about how nice it was to feel his hands and lips on their breasts. At the time, each had thought she had pulled something over on her sister. It never occurred to either of them that they hadn't talked about letting him do those things in advance, like they had in the beginning.

Then the anger turned toward Chuck, but only momentarily. In the first place, they both liked him. Neither wanted to stop seeing him. In the second place, they were honest enough with themselves to realize that they had both played a role in letting Chuck pull the wool up off of their breasts, so to speak. At the same time, though, they couldn't let him just get away with fooling them.

The solution to the problem was both unorthodox and unexpected. But that wouldn't take place for another week.

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