The Making of a Gigolo(12) - Janet Griswold

by Lubrican

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

Chapter Nine

Another couple left Granger that day, to travel to another town and spend some time together.

Sal, looking obviously groomed, picked Jill up and drove her to Wichita, to a restaurant that was as different from the Wagon Wheel as Dom Perignon is from Mogen David.

Jill, of course, was delighted to be wined and dined like this, even though poor Sal looked so uncomfortable in his suit. That he had gone to this extent meant a lot to her. That he was obviously uncomfortable in the sumptuous surroundings of the ritzy restaurant, and that he had done this for her, made her want to wiggle.

The meal was fantastic. While Sal might be ill-fitted to this kind of place, he knew food. She accepted his recommendation for a menu item, and let him order for her. She found it to be delicious, even though she wasn't sure what it all was.

"I wish I could cook like this," sighed Sal, leaning back, when they were done.

"I like your cooking," said Jill. "You make the best chicken fried steak in the county."

He smiled. "It's not quite up to par with this."

"I would have been just as happy if you'd fixed me chicken fried steak, and some of those potatoes you fry up so perfectly," she said.

"Thanks," said her former boss. "You want to take in a movie?"

"I don't think so."

"What do you want to do, then?"

"How long have I known you?" asked Jill.

He looked surprised, and frowned. "I don't know. Four or five years?"

"I've known you that long, and I've never seen your house. I don't even know where you live."

"It's just a house," said Sal.

"Maybe," she said, folding her napkin and putting it on her plate. "I still want to see it, though."

Jill looked over at Sal as he drove them back to Granger. He was like a little boy, in many ways, sweet and bashful. It had been a complete surprise to her when he had asked her to dance that night in the square. He had obviously worked up his courage to cut in and dance with her. That was one reason she had wanted to dance with him again. She'd found alomost immediately that dancing with him felt ... comfortable. That was another reason she kept dancing with him.

She had always viewed Sal as a big teddy bear kind of guy, who blustered, but didn't really mean it, who teased, but never cruelly. All the time her belly had swelled, before she quit the diner and went to work with Christy, he had never once asked her about it, or made any comments. While others had looked askance at her, or frowned, or left smaller tips (or no tip), he had treated her like he always had.

"Can I ask you a question?" She spoke softly.

"Sure." His eyes glanced at her briefly, but then went back to the road.

"Why did you ask out a single woman, who had a child out of wedlock?"

"I think 'single woman' is the operative part of that situation," he said, smiling.

"Most men wouldn't be interested in a woman who had a child like that."

"Steven's going to be a great kid," said Sal. "He has a great mom."

"That's another thing," said Jill. "All the time I worked for you, you never showed any interest in me."

He looked at her longer this time, and laughed.

"Are you kidding? I was flirting with you all the time."

"Yeah, but that was just ..." Suddenly, she wasn't sure what that ... just was. "You never asked me out or anything."

"You were kind of mad at men," he said. "I didn't think you were interested."

"I wasn't," she admitted. "Not then."

"Then, when you got pregnant, I knew you really were still interested," said Sal. "But it was too late, then."

"No it wasn't," said Jill. "That man ... it's difficult to explain ... but he doesn't have a claim on me."

"Then he's an idiot," said Sal.

He pulled into his driveway, which suspended the conversation. His house was a small two bedroom place, with clapboard siding, probably in excess of fifty years old. It was well used, but neatly kept.

"I wasn't planning on visitors," he said, as he helped her out of the car. "I'm kind of a messy housekeeper."

"I'm not here to judge your housekeeping," she said.

He stopped. "Why are you here?"

She was standing closer to him than most people find comfortable, but she wasn't uncomfortable at all.

"I'm not quite sure yet."

He didn't know what that meant, but took her inside, bending over to pick up a couple of things off the floor, once they got inside. One of them was a bright purple pair of boxer shorts, with little dinosaurs on them. He flushed pink as she looked at them.

"How cute!" She giggled.

"They were on sale," he mumbled.

On impulse she snatched them out of his hand, and held them up.

"They were made for a man, not a little boy," she noted.

He grabbed at them, but she jerked them out of his reach. He reached around her, as she laughed, and tried to keep them away from him. She twisted in his arms, putting her hands ... and the shorts ... behind him.

Then, again on impulse, she kissed him.

While Jill was kissing her former employer, at his house, Bobby and Betty were at the farm, mowing the yard. Mowing had been a two-person job for years, mostly because the labor pool at the farm had been big enough that lots of chores were viewed as multiple-person chores.

In this case, Betty was pushing the mower, while Bobby pulled weeds, and trimmed around trees with an old fashioned weed whip. These days a "weed whip" is a motorized string trimmer. The original had a wooden handle about three and a half feet long with a metal blade of some sort at the end. It was operated by swinging it back and forth, letting the momentum of the blad whip through the blades of grass.

His shirt was off, and his arms swung back and forth in a smooth rhythm, as he made golf-like swings with the tool, lopping off taller grass with each swing. Bits of grass clung to his sweaty torso.

Matilda brought a tray loaded with glasses full of ice cubes, and a pitcher of lemonade out of the house, just as Betty leaned over and pushed the metal spring that cut off the mower by grounding the magneto to the engine.

Now that Linda had moved out completely, things were quieter than ever. Suzie had elected to stay in Manhattan, and work a summer job there. Mirriam was at work.

The twins had talked many times about their big brother since finding out about his sexual exploits. Having been exposed to the limited joys of sex, by Chuck, and not having many men to choose from in the small town, they were a bit frustrated. They loved their jobs, and college held no special call to them.

But the fact was ... they were horny. And they knew that their big brother had had sex with at least three of their sisters.

That knowledge affected them in mysterious ways. They had never thought of Bobby as a possible sexual partner. To be truthful, they hadn't actually thought of anybody other than Chuck as a potential sexual partner. They hadn't actually set out to become sexual beings. It had just happened. They had been swept up in the winds of emotion and passion, and let those winds carry them along. They also knew that what Bobby had done was called incest.

Yet, knowing that it had happened still didn't make it seem real to them. As they looked back on things, Mary, Bev and Linda had always acted completely normal. There had been nothing that advertised the fact that they let Bobby do to them, what the twins had actually seen him doing to their mother.

Even what they had seen with their own eyes didn't seem real. That was because, both before and after that night, their mother had seemed completely normal to them. The next day, when they saw her, she was just ... Mamma.

Their impression of "incest" just didn't match with what they had experienced in real life. Nothing had blown up. Nobody had been irate or unhappy. The babies were all as normal as could be, and the twins loved everybody involved.

It was that normalcy that affected them more than anything else. Think about it like this: For centuries masturbation had been forbidden, considered a sin, and believed to cause terrible afflictions in those who practiced it. As time went by the third leg of that proscription suffered first. Hair did not grow on palms, and neither did warts. People began to drift away from organized religion, so moral objections began to mean less. Simply forbidding it had never worked, and knowing that others do this thing ... lots of others ... makes the blanket prohibition lose even more force. This is not to suggest that incest is on the same level as masturbation. It's not. But the proscription to incest can fail to work in the same ways as it has failed to work concerning masturbation.

In a way, that's what happened to the twins. They saw no ill effects from the behavior, practically everybody was doing it, and nobody was trying to make it stop. As they stood, two of them sweating heavily, and all of them drinking iced lemonade, Matilda stared at the muscles on her brother's shiny, wet chest. Chuck had muscles ... but not like these. She remembered Chuck's weight on her, as he lunged and rutted. Bobby looked heavier.

"Are you ever going to fuck us, like you fucked Mary and the others?" she asked suddenly.

Bobby snorted, in the middle of swigging lemonade, and two drips appeared in his nostrils. Other than that, he didn't show the shock he felt at the sudden question. For whatever reason, perhaps because of the difference in their ages, he still thought of the twins as "little girls". He took a look at Matilda, and noticed there wasn't anything "little" about her anymore. His glance shifted to Betty, whose shirt was clinging to her torso. When had she grown those breasts? Then his mind caught up with things.

"I didn't fuck them," he said, suppressing the urge to cough. His nose was still full of lemonade. "I made love with them."

"Isn't it all the same thing?" Matilda was very pragmatic in her general outlook.

"If you fuck someone, you do something to them," said Bobby. "If you make love, you do something with them."

Matilda frowned. She saw the difference, academically, but not emotionally. Her experience with Chuck was actually a series of incidents, in which she was striving for something ... an orgasm. That Chuck would spurt was a given. In her mind, sex was the challenge of getting what you wanted, before you lost the chance.

"Besides," said Bobby. "You're kind of young, don't you think?" For the same reason he thought of them as "little girls" he couldn't imagine they had already been sexually active.

"We're eighteen, you big turd!" snapped Matilda, trying to establish her status as an adult, and ruining it by sounding like a whiny teenager.

"Sex is complicated." Bobby used his big brother voice. "You need to be in the right place in your life before you start thinking about sex."

The look the twins gave each other should have alerted Bobby that something was going on, but he missed that look. He missed it because he was thinking about the times his twin sisters had gone out with that kid who picked them up. He hadn't thought of that as "dates", exactly. He had assumed they met up with another boy, or whatever. The girls never talked about that guy, or any other guys. They hadn't seemed to be enamored with any boys. Matilda's sudden question, though, suggested she was thinking about things on an entirely different level than Bobby had thought she was.

"What ever happened to that guy you two were hanging around with?" he asked. "Chuck? Wasn't it Chuck something?"

"We broke up with him," said Betty. "He was a jerk."

"Broke up with him?" Bobby looked puzzled.

"He was our boyfriend, for a while," said Betty.

"Both of you?" Bobby's eyes widened.

"Sure," she chirped. "Why not? We both liked him."

Bobby grinned, thinking of how Chuck, or whatever his name was, must have reacted to that. He knew how hard it was to keep two women happy at the same time. He still didn't realize just how happy they had tried to get Chuck to make them.

"Well, anyway, I don't think you two are ready for something like that."

"Why not?" Matilda jutted out her jaw. "We're not virgins, you know."

Had Bobby been drinking, he would have snorted more lemonade.

"You're not." He said it, his voice flat. The idea of some boy lying on top of either of these "little girls" did not make him happy.

Matilda looked at Betty, who shot her a look that was clearly understood. It wasn't a happy look. Their secret had been divulged.

"We just did it a couple of times," said Matilda.

"With Chuck." His voice was still flat.

"He was our boyfriend," said Matilda, nervously. She had seen that look on Bobby's face before, and it had never boded well.

"Both of you."

"Of course," Matilda said weakly. "He was our boyfriend."

"I should spank you both!" he barked. "You could have gotten pregnant!"

"Nuh uh!" argued Matilda. "We made him use a rubber."

"Well thank goodness for small favors," said Bobby darkly.

"Why are you being this way?" asked Betty. "You did it with Mary, and Bev and Linda, and probably Flo too!"

"All of them were going to get married," he said. Like most men, his memory was somewhat selective, sometimes. "Are you two ready to get married?"

"No," they said in tandem, automatically.

Matilda thought of something.

"So, if they were going to get married, why did they do it with you, instead of waiting to do it with their husbands?"

Bobby almost groaned. "It was complicated. Mary was afraid that her honeymoon would go badly if she didn't know what to expect. It was like that a little bit with Bev too. And Linda had broken up with Paul, and was frustrated."

"We broke up with Chuck!" Betty pointed out instantly.

Bobby knew what it was like to argue with the twins. Their thought processes were different than those of the rest of his sisters. He knew how stubborn they were, and he knew that arguing with them wasn't going to be productive.

"I don't think you're ready for that," he said, his voice steady. "That's how I feel. So no. I'm not going to do that. Got it?"

"We'll tell Mamma!" yipped Matilda. Almost instantly she realized how stupid that sounded, since he was fucking their mother too.

"If you think I won't take you over my knee, just because you think you're all grown up, you are mistaken," said Bobby. He didn't move, but Matilda stepped back from him anyway. "I'll do it, and you won't be able to sit down for a week. You tell Mamma anything you want to, but don't threaten me."

He turned and left, taking his glass with him. It wouldn't do any good to stay there.

Jill pulled back from the kiss with Sal. It had taken a few seconds, but he had then kissed her back. Right now, he had a deer-in-the-headlights look about him.

"Wow," he whispered.

She felt her body pressed against his. He had a bit of a paunch, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It kind of fit below her breasts, and above her hips.

"Kiss me again," she said.

His eyes fluttered, but he did so. It was a very nice kiss.

"You're a good kisser," she said, when it was over.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he sighed.

"Why didn't you?"

His face went from slack-jawed relaxation to shock.

"You would have belted me one," he said.

"Not if you would have kissed me like that." She cocked her head and stared into his eyes. "Are you good at anything else?" She gave her loins just a tiny push, against his.

His eyes went wide. "You mean it?" he gasped.

Her answer was to kiss him again ... and push a little harder.

The twins were stubborn. They talked after Bobby left them. They decided he was being "a turd".

So, in their relative innocence, they decided to seduce him.

That night, they wore T shirts instead of nightgowns, and left off their bras and panties under them. They flashed their butts at him, when their mother wasn't looking.

They thought they were being sexy and clever.

Bobby ignored them.

Jill was reading a story to Jillian and Steven, who were just over two years old. Bobby was in the bedroom with Christy. It had actually been Jill's turn, that night, but she had told Christy to go ahead.

That was because, after she had kissed Sal the third time, a few nights previously, it had turned into something wild ... something unplanned ... and something she was ecstatic about.

Sal was a completely different kind of lover than Bobby. Bobby pleasured her ... played her like an instrument, and she had loved that each time he had done so. Bobby slaked her thirst. Sal had needed her. It had been there in everything he had said and done. He had made it crystal clear that he thought he was the luckiest man alive, as they tumbled into bed and made wildly passionate love.

His technique had been different, but she didn't care, because he gave it everything he had. They actually knew each other well, on many levels. Not on this level, though. This was something new and explosive between them. Sal's passion had been held behind a dam of polite aloofness, and when she cracked that dam, what burst forth almost consumed her. Never had she felt so loved and needed. Never had a man almost worshiped her. Never had a man expressed his love like Sal did.

She had gone back to see him the next night, and they had done it all over again.

Now, as she read, she wondered if Bobby's feelings would be hurt, when she told him it wasn't right for her to give him what Sal now deserved.

An hour later, she relaxed, as Bobby grinned, and took her hands in his.

"I'm happy for you," he said. His eyes told her he meant it. "Sal's a good guy. He deserves you."

It wasn't until he was gone, that Jill realized she would always love him in some way. Things had changed, a little, but she knew they were still very, very good.

Janet Griswold lay on her bed, naked. Six months ago she would never have thought of doing that ... lying around naked.

Now, as her hands went in small circles, covering the gentle swell of her belly, in which new life was growing, she almost preferred to be naked.

She had grown to love that swollen belly. Initially, she had thought she was crazy to let Bobby get her pregnant. She thought it was a mistake ... the height of foolishness. There had been a month, after she came to that realization, that she hadn't called him. But, as the reality of it sank in, and her body began to respond to what had happened, she couldn't help but be fascinated by it all. And she missed what had been available to her from Bobby. She called him again, and he made her feel ecstatic that she had.

He was the one who had caressed her belly, in the beginning. The tenderness, as he spoke to his unborn child, and stroked its enclosure, made her feel like a precious piece of art, in which something beautiful was being displayed. As she began to show, and he wasn't there, she stroked their baby's enclosure too, and talked to her. She had decided it must be a girl in there. She didn't know why. It just was.

People were staring at her these days. She knew that. She didn't care. They had talked about her behind her back ever since the divorces. What did it matter what they thought? They wouldn't give her the time of day, whether she was pregnant or not.

No ... this was much better. She stroked the unborn child inside her, and smiled.

"I can't wait to meet you," she said softly. "I'm going to be so proud of you. You're going to be clever and beautiful, and grow up to be an important woman. I just know it. I love you already."

Eventually, she covered them with a sheet, and slept.

Janet's sleep is a good place to let us rest from the story. It continues in the next book. For now, let us all relax, and be thankful for the joys in our lives ... our lovers ... our children ... and the hopes and dreams we share with them.

The End

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