The Making of a Gigolo (14) - Erica Bradford
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26
Chapter Twenty-one
Christy lay cradled in Will's right arm, with her head on his
shoulder. Both had almost recovered their breath, but were
still breathing more rapidly than normal.
"Wow," sighed Will.
She kissed his shoulder. "Thank you."
"No, thank you!" His voice carried the fervent honesty of his
disagreement.
"Will?"
"Hmmm?"
"I don't want you to think I always hop in bed with a guy I've only
known for a short time."
Since she had done that with him, it was pretty hard to look at it in
any other way, but he tried.
"So why did you ... with me?"
"It's complicated," she said.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. Then, since that seemed
awfully assertive, he added "Am I?"
"I hope not," she said softly.
He felt the kind of relief you feel when you dove too deep in the pool
and aren't sure you'll make it back to the surface, and then get that
first lungful of fresh air when you do.
"Okay ... good."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Not when the person you're looking at looks like me," he said,
honestly.
"There is much more to a person than just what they look like."
"I know."
"You taught me that," she said.
"I did?"
"The first time I saw you at the school, I felt sorry for
you. And then I heard you talking to Jake and you just
sounded so normal. Both of you did. You were just
two guys talking about something. If I wasn't looking at you
I couldn't tell either of you was disabled. That's what made
me realize that you were just a normal guy, in a messed up body."
"Most people don't think that," he said.
"That's because they don't take the time to get to know a person like
you. You remember how you said the kids started talking to
you?"
"Yeah."
"Kids are generally good judges of character. After I left, I
thought about that too. And I thought about how brave you
are."
"I'm not brave," he snorted. "You should have seen me in
physical therapy. I cried like a baby."
"You did it," she pointed out. "Even if you cried."
"I guess so," he said.
"And then you let me take you out. I knew you had to be
terrified, but I was fascinated with you. I wanted to find
out what was inside ... get past the body."
"You're the one who's brave," he said. "Most women would be
scared to death to be around somebody like me."
"I wasn't brave at all," she said. "I could leave any
time. I could take you back home and never have to see you
again."
"I guess that's true," he said.
"Anyway, I expected you to be mad ... mad at the Army ... mad at the
world ... even mad at me. But you weren't. Fate
handed you a horrible blow, but you tried to bounce back. You
were thankful for the things you had instead of being mad about the
things you'd lost. I like that."
His hand stroked her naked shoulder and back.
"And then, you were willing to be vulnerable and let me take your
picture. You showed me part of you that I know you don't want
to show anyone ... and let me photograph it. I knew then that
you had a lot of very special qualities. And on top of that
you were willing to try working in the darkroom, doing something
completely new. I was just so impressed with you."
"Wow," he said again.
"It was then that I knew it would be possible for me to fall in love
with you. I'm not saying I am in love with you ... not yet
... but I sure do like what I see." She brought her hand up
to her eyes and covered them. "I'm sorry. That was
thoughtless."
"I knew what you meant," he said. "How could I possibly be
upset with you after what you just said?"
"But I couldn't let myself fall in love with you ... until I knew one
more thing about you."
"What?"
"I'm a woman. I didn't want to fall in love with a man I
couldn't be a woman with."
"That's what this was all about?" he sounded incensed. "You
just wanted to take me for a test drive?" He sighed,
theatrically. "I feel so used!"
"I knew I was falling for you fast," she said, completely
unrepentant. "I had to know."
"Did I pass?" he asked.
"Oh, you passed," she sighed.
"Wow," was his only response.
Bobby had wanted Erica to make the decisions and she had done so, for
the most part. That the latest decision she had made was
completely unexpected had to be dealt with.
Bobby knew that she had no idea what she was asking for. He
was pretty sure this was still a very bad idea. She was in
the throes of passion and probably wasn't thinking straight.
At the same time, he knew her well enough to know that if he rejected
her now, she would hate him, even after she thought about it.
She thought she wanted this. He knew he did too, but his
satisfaction would have to be delayed. It was important that
she didn't regret this.
Passion is an interesting response to stimuli. It clouds the
judgment. Even Bobby Dalton's judgment.
He started by leaning down to do what he knew would give her an
orgasm. He sucked in her right nipple.
Her hands came to his head and pushed.
"Nooooo, not that, Bobby! Fuck me!"
He bit the nipple, clamping down hard and moving his teeth from side to
side. The response was as expected and, while she was on the
upside of the orgasm, he moved his hips forward.
She was so short that he couldn't keep her nipple in his mouth, though
he held onto it as long as possible, knowing that she loved to have
them pulled and stretched. He had to release it, lest he do
real damage and, as it snapped from between his teeth, his pubic bone
met hers with a thump.
She was tight. He expected that. Her pussy pulsed
and rippled around his shaft. He expected that too.
But she didn't squeal, scream or in any way express that she was
unhappy at being stretched for the first time. He did not
expect that.
Erica would be unhappy in the future, but not for the reasons Bobby was
afraid of. Her unhappiness would center on the fact that she
would be unable to remember, in enough detail to satisfy her, what
losing her virginity was like.
The orgasms Bobby gave her were so violent that she had unconsciously
developed a mechanism to deal with them. It was while he was
sucking her clit that she envisioned herself on a big wooden roller
coaster that she had ridden one time, which had both scared her to
death and excited her more than anything else she'd done to that point
in her life. Bobby's roller coaster went up much faster than
a real one. And the swoop as it rocketed down lasted longer
too. Then, as she leveled out, he started taking her up again.
When he sucked her nipple and pulled it with his teeth, she had already
been close to the top. Seeing his penis poised there, where
she suddenly desperately wanted it, had her right at the top of the arc
of the tracks. Then he bit her nipple and she cried out -
both because she was already on that long downward rush and because she
was afraid she'd miss what she'd demanded he do.
But this coaster ride was different, because when she hit bottom, she
splashed into a warm sea of mist that was somehow emanating from her
groin. It had no color or odor, but it enveloped her and
seemed to touch every bit of her all at once, both inside and
out. The mist seemed to be shrinking, until it felt like his
chest on her breasts and his breath on her neck, and something rubbing
and moving inside her pussy. It all felt like his kisses,
everywhere at once.
Her eyes opened and she lifted her head. Her breasts were in
the way, crushed together by his chest on them. He seemed to
understand what she wanted and his chest rose until her breasts
parted. There, through the valley between the breasts she no
longer hated, she watched as the thick column of his penis slid out of
her body, and then went right back in. She felt the thump of
his lower body in the bones of her pelvic girdle and he ground against
her.
When he had sucked the place he was grinding against, the roller
coaster shot up like a rocket taking off. But this ... this
was a slow ride. She was going up. She knew
that. But she had time to look around and enjoy being able to
see things she couldn't see from any place else.
She remembered the feel of that penis in her mouth and concentrated on
feeling it with another part of her body. It was
delicious. Nothing else on earth felt like that.
When he moved it in her, she wanted to coo and wiggle, like she had
when her mother had rubbed her sore shoulders one time. When
he ground against her, the car she was riding in jerked
forward. She could see the top. She was almost
there.
"Oh yes," she sighed, leaning forward in her mind. She
reached for the safety bar that she knew she'd have to hold onto, or be thrown
from the car.
And then she was there and the car started down. It gathered
speed, still going down, and she could tell that it would go down for a
long, long time. She dragged in breath and let it all out in
a long primeval scream, as suddenly she was moving so fast that she
couldn't see anything anymore.
Bobby wasn't at all sure things were going well. She had
raised up to see the proof that he had done as she demanded and then
lay back. She writhed silently, her eyes taking on a glassy
look, but she made no noise ... no comment. He stroked her
several times, and she lay limp. He tried grinding, and her
lips stretched to show her teeth, but she made no noise to indicate
whether she was feeling pain or pleasure.
She got more tense and her hands went to his shoulders and gripped with
surprising strength as she leaned up off the pillow. His
first clue that she was actually having an orgasm was when her pussy
squeezed hard as he slid out. He had to push harder to force
his way back in. Now she felt like a virgin!
Then she screamed and her head flopped back onto the pillow, while her
legs slapped over his, pummeling the back of his thighs.
He sighed and grinned. This was more like it
He was close, but he didn't want to finish. He wanted her to
have at least one more orgasm. He remembered how he'd been
able to pick Misty up and lean back, resting on his knees, while her weight drove her
down on his prick. Erica was even smaller, so he did the same
thing, pulling her loose body up until he was sitting on his calves and
her big soft breasts were crushed to his chest.
She opened her eyes, surprised, and he kissed her.
After the disorientation of going from horizontal to vertical, Erica
tried to cope with the fact that she was sitting up, almost as if she
were in a soft warm chair, but her legs were straight out in front of
her. She bent her knees and her heels hit the bottom of
Bobby's feet. She sighed as that let her full weight down on
the thing that was filling her. His kiss was so soft and
tender that she felt hot all over.
His hands went to her bottom and he pulled and lifted, just a little,
making her move on his penis. That felt wonderful and she
started moving her hips to do the same thing.
Sitting like this, with his manhood deep inside her, moving only a
little, was a completely different kind of feeling for Erica. The tip of his penis seemed to hit something deep inside her, as if it was pushing a button. That button caused a heat that seemed to climb, just a degree or two at a time, each time it was pushed. Soon she felt like she had somehow swallowed a
pot of oil that was getting hotter and hotter inside her, where that
wonderful hard thing was prodding her. His kisses seemed to
add heat that sank from her lips to the nipples that were pressed hard
against his chest and then further downward, to make the heavy oil her
womb seemed to be floating in hotter still.
Her vaginal muscles spasmed and it felt like bubbles were bathing the
inside of her body. She realized that she was going to have
another orgasm ... one that would not be at all like her last
one. She could tell that already, though she had no idea what
to expect.
Then it changed from a feeling of bubbling to a feeling that her womb
was the oil, getting hotter and expanding. The level of the
oil was already even with the rim of the pot that was her
body. She pulled her lips from his and dragged in as much air
as she could. His blue eyes were staring into hers.
Her hips gave a convulsive jerk and the tip of his prick seemed to pry
something apart inside her. It was through that breach, where
the tip of his penis was, that the hot oil inside her began to seep
out. It didn't happen in a rush. It was
more like the liquid heat that had filled her womb began to flow
outward, like lava from a volcano.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed. This was beautiful.
Her former orgasms has been violent, almost scary, but this could last
forever and she wouldn't mind at all.
"You need to get your feet under you," he said, panting.
"No," she said. Her voice was hoarse, dry. She didn't want to move. Her body
was melting. She closed her eyes and thought of the Wicked
Witch of the West, in her favorite movie, melting into a
puddle. That was what was happening to her, except it was
fantastic.
"I'm about to make a baby in you, Erica!" came his voice, urgent
now. "Get your feet under you so you can stand up and pull
off of me."
Her mind imagined her body melting away to leave only a little baby
behind. It was bizarre and her eyes popped open.
She leaned to her left and dragged her right foot out and around, until
she could lean the other way onto her right knee.
"Hurry!" he gasped.
As she pulled her left foot around and back, the way she leaned made
the tip of his penis push into that inner split again and she realized
she could keep this orgasm going if she just wiggled back and
forth. She closed her eyes and rocked from side to side, from
one knee to the other.
"Erica!"
She wished he'd stop talking. He was distracting
her. She kissed him to shut him up and closed her eyes to go
back to feeling the upwelling of her center.
His kiss was what distracted her next. His lips almost
bruised hers as his head twisted this way and that. His arms
were crushing her to him, pulling her against his chest. She
felt his hands move up her back to her shoulders and he pulled
hard. The tip of his penis pried at her insides again and she
felt heat flow into her. Her own hot oil was there, still
overflowing the crucible that was the center of all her attention, as
this heat surged in to join with her liquid. In her mind's
eye it swirled and mixed, making an alloy of molten metals in her
womb. She felt another rush of warmth and something broke
into her conscious mind and screamed that the male was fertilizing her.
She was almost jerked from the lingering ecstasy of her orgasm and her
eyes snapped open. She pushed at his chest, feeling the hard
muscle under his skin, and broke the kiss to heave and pant.
His eyes had gone dark again. She felt a shiver race through
her body. He was the male ... the alpha male ... the
supremely dominant male she had always feared. The penis
inside her leapt and spurted again and again. Now her feet
tried to come in to play. His hands on the backs of her
shoulders held her firmly impaled on the spurting thing inside
her. The tip, where all that heat spurted from, dug between
those inner lips again and her womb sang.
She felt his penis jump once more and, because she was helpless anyway,
she closed her eyes. It was easier to go back to rocking back
and forth, because that felt so wonderful. She realized her
orgasm had only slowed, not ended. It was hard to move with
his hands pulling so hard at her, so she used the muscles she had so
recently discovered to squeeze and play with the thing stuffing her.
He actually growled in her ear and she shivered again. She
had always heard her feminist sisters say that all men wanted was to
take and dominate and use a woman. If this was what it was
like to be taken ... to be dominated ... to be used by a man ... then
her sisters were insane, because they all said to fight against male
domination at all costs. What woman in her right mind, she
wondered, would resist this?
She could tell when her mind began to clear. She rose from
that sea of hot oil slowly. He had frozen, crushing her to
his chest, but she felt his muscles begin to loosen, almost fiber by
fiber, until he was no longer pulling her down and she began to lean
away from him. His hands slid from her shoulders to her back
and his arms strengthened again, to make a backrest for her.
She relaxed too and leaned back. His eyes cleared and he was
Bobby again, instead of the bull who had taken her.
Her whole outlook had changed radically, but she was still the same
woman who had entered this house as a virgin. Except now she
understood. Her whole life had changed. She could
never go without this ... not after finding out what it was
like. With something like fear, she realized she needed ... a
man.
"Bastard," she said, her voice low.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't
listen."
She realized he was apologizing for taking her ... for breeding her ...
for not giving her the chance to avoid the consequences of him
ejaculating inside her. She would think about that, but
something else was taking top priority in her mind.
"I didn't mean that," she said. "I meant the whole thing."
"You asked me to!" he said. "You told me to!"
"And you did," she said, slumping and letting him hold her so she
wouldn't backward. "And now, for the first time, I
understand the real danger of men."
His eyes looked crestfallen. "I told you it was a bad idea
too," he said, in his own defense.
"You're not hard anymore," she said, squeezing with her vaginal muscles.
"No," he said.
"Bastard," she sighed.
If Erica thought they were done, she was disabused of that erroneous
notion quickly, once Bobby found out why she had called him a
bastard. Once he learned she had loved it all, but was
disgruntled about having to admit that she'd have to have a man in her
life from now on, he set about fighting for males everywhere to
convince her that needing a man wasn't all bad.
It was two hours before they slept.
When Will woke, it was with the slowly building need to get to a
toilet. He'd learned to act on that more quickly than most
men, because getting to a toilet was a lot more time consuming for Will
than it was for most men.
He felt a momentary stab of shock as he realized he was in a strange bed and that
the warm body pressed to him, and the arm draped over his chest, wasn't
the one he'd gotten used to waking up with. That shock passed
quickly, though. She had convinced him she wanted him here.
His right arm was trapped under her. He didn't want to waken
her, if it was possible. He brought the stump of his left
wrist up and pushed her hand over to his right shoulder, then tried to
wiggle the trapped arm out from under her.
Her eyes opened.
"I need to go to the bathroom," he said, feeling foolish.
She levered herself up and he was able to pull his right arm
out. He sat up and twisted. He looked at the chair,
but the need was strong now, so he just lurched up and hopped across
the room to the door that led to her personal bathroom. He
sat, did what needed to be done, then realized he'd have to hop
back. It was awkward, in an almost painful way, until he
realized she hadn't gotten up and tried to help him. She'd
just let him do what he needed to do. That gave him the
courage to hop back to the chair, at least, where he stood on his right
leg, naked, and looked at the woman in the bed who had thrown the
covers off, showing him her naked body instead of hiding it.
"Come back to bed," she said.
"It's morning," he said, somewhat uselessly. She obviously
knew that. Light was coming through the windows.
"I don't have anywhere to go," she said. "I don't have to
pick up Jillian until ten."
He was staring at her and he felt like that was impolite for some
strange reason. His eyes wandered to the framed photographs
above her bed and he saw Bobby Dalton, standing in an open window of a
farm house ... naked.
He looked back at her to see her looking where he'd been
looking. Her head swiveled back toward him and her eyes
locked with his.
"Come back to bed," she said again. "Now that we know this
will work between us, there are things you need to know about me."
Erica woke from a dream about a purple rabbit with cat's ears, for some
reason, that had been having a conversation with a badger about how to
grow and harvest asparagus. It was one of those completely
insane dreams that mean nothing at all and make you wonder what in the
world was going on.
She opened her eyes and saw flesh, then felt it under her cheek and
arm, which was draped over Bobby Dalton. His measured
breathing told her he was still asleep.
The events of last night burst into her mind. They seemed just as bizarre as the purple rabbit dream, except she knew it had been no dream. She took
stock of her body, which felt completely normal. She felt
relaxed, just like it was a normal Sunday, when she could lie there
and sleep in or just think.
Her mind tried to grapple with what had happened. She knew
she should be sorry it had happened. She should be trying to
build outrage about how she had been seduced ... tricked ...
manipulated. But the fact was that she had loved it and she
knew that. That bothered her more than losing her virginity,
which she had been "saving" for some reason she could never quite put
into words. She hadn't been saving it for a man ... at least
not a man she had dreamed of or hoped to meet some day or anything like
that.
Yes, she had loved it and she knew that she was going to want to feel that way again. She felt the urge to get back on the roller coaster
right now in fact. And that was what bothered her.
For the first time since she had sworn she would never depend on any
man, she knew she would now have to depend on one a lot.
She started thinking about the men she knew ... the ones who weren't
married. There were three or four at school, but she
dismissed them almost immediately. She didn't know it, but
her sorting mechanism had burst into maturity while Bobby was teaching
her one of the reasons men had something important to offer a
woman. She didn't know many men outside of school, other than
some of the parents. It took an extra deep breath from the
man she was naked with to bring her attention back to him. Of
course Bobby could do that for her. That was
obvious. She wondered why she hadn't thought of him first
instead of last. With a quivery feeling in the pit of her
stomach, she knew it was because if Bobby crooked his finger at her,
she'd go running to him like a mindless bimbo. That really
bothered her.
Her mind drifted back to the feelings that had washed over her last
night. It had been different than what she felt with
Will. Everything she did with Will was an offering of herself
to him, out of love. She was aware that she got something
physical out of it too, but that was so different than what Bobby had
given her last night that it almost seemed like a completely different
kind of activity.
Her mind stalled. What Bobby had given her. She
tried to think about it as dispassionately as she could. What
exactly had happened last night? She'd already dismissed the
notion that she'd been seduced. She couldn't lie to herself
about that. She'd been a willing participant, even though she
hadn't sought anything in the beginning. She remembered her
own words clearly: "Fuck me, Bobby." She
marveled that she'd said that, but as clear as the words themselves
were, she also remembered clearly that she had wanted him to do that as
much as she had wanted almost anything in her life. She had
needed something from him on a visceral level.
He had given it to her. There was no doubt about
that. She likened it to asking for a sip of water, and
finding yourself afloat in a whole swimming pool of it. Never
before had she felt like she was at the center of the universe and all
the attention of the stars and planets was squarely on her.
The orgasms themselves were a misty memory now, hard to make clear in
her mind. It was as if a whole symphony had been composed and
played, just for her, but all she could remember was a rough idea of
how the melody went.
Bobby had been the composer. He had supplied the instruments,
and he had played them all. She remembered doing nothing
except lying there and loving it. With almost startling
clarity, she realized that Bobby hadn't done anything to her ... he had
given her something.
Even his moans and groans of satisfaction had been a gift, rather than
evidence that he was profiting from the situation. He had
made it clear that he was as consumed by her as she was by
him. She had been the center of his universe last night.
He took another deep breath and started breathing more
quickly. He was waking up. She felt a stab of
something like worry. What would he think of her
now? Would he get up and say something crass? She
could imagine him standing there, leering at her naked body.
"You were a great fuck, baby. We'll have to do it again
sometime." Then he'd go off, leaving her alone, and look for
some other woman to heave and pant over.
His arm moved. She hadn't even realized she was lying on
it. She suddenly felt his hand on her hip, sliding, caressing
as it came up her side as far as it could go and then back down to just
rest on her hip. She couldn't believe how good his hand felt,
just touching her.
"Morning," he said softly. "You okay?"
She didn't know what to say, or do.
His body heaved and suddenly he was facing her. His arm went
around her and she was lying in his embrace, her face in his
chest. He kissed her hair.
"Tell me how you feel," he said softly. "It doesn't matter if
it's positive or negative, but don't keep it inside."
"Afraid," her mouth said. She hadn't meant to say it out loud.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
He hadn't gotten up and crowed and postured. He hadn't
laughed at her and said she was like any other woman. He
hadn't said something crass or thoughtless. She felt a shiver
as she realized he cared about her. Was that even
worse? If he cared about her, wasn't she required to care
back? She already cared too much about this man.
"Tell me," he urged.
"I'm afraid you'll go," she said. She followed that
immediately with "I'm afraid you'll stay."
"How about if I stay for a little while and then go?" he
asked. There was no joking in his voice. She had
presented him with a scenario in which he couldn't win ... in which she
couldn't win ... and he had tried to find a way for them both to win.
"So much has changed," she sighed. "I'm confused."
"Then I'd say you're normal," he said. "I'm confused too."
"What are you confused about?" she asked.
"I didn't plan on any of that happening last night," he said.
"I didn't expect it."
Her mind reflected on that. He hadn't intended to seduce
her. That made her feel much better. It validated
some of her own thoughts. He had been so attentive to her
recently. A part of her had still worried that he was merely
stalking his prey. And it matched her own feelings.
She hadn't planned on it either.
"Why did you do it then?" she asked. Some part of her unruly
brain still wanted to make it all his responsibility.
"I think you needed something and I was able to help with that," he
said. "I hope so, anyway," he added.
She asked the question that was primary in her mind.
"What do we do now?"
His hand stroked her hair and slid down her back.
"We live life," he said. "You have things to do and so do I,
and we go about doing them."
"That's it?" she asked, tensing. "Last night was just a one
night stand?"
"I certainly hope not," he said.
She was almost astonished at the burst of warmth in her belly as she
realized he wanted her again. She could feel that warmth turn
into something she knew meant she was getting damp. Her
nipples, pressed against his chest, seemed to hum softly.
"I've never felt like this before," she moaned.
"I think that's pretty normal too," he said, hugging her.
"After all, you've never done anything like that before. It
can't help but change things. That's one of the reasons I
wasn't sure you were ready for that."
Suddenly, like some door had been opened in her memory, she remembered
his warnings:
"Erica, honey, this is a big step. Why don't we wait a while
and see how you feel then?"
"Well then, I shouldn't do it!" he had moaned, when she insisted.
"You don't know what you want," he had said harshly.
Not only had he not seduced her, he had tried to slow things
down. She relaxed in his arms and felt a kind of peace settle
over her. The memory of him trying his best to be responsible
took all her fears and concerns away. What had happened had
been on her terms. She was sure she'd think about that some
more, but for now she could relax in the arms of a man who really cared
about her.
"Don't go," she murmured into his chest.
He sighed. "I can stay for a while. When is Will
coming home? I don't think you want him to find us like this."
She frowned. Will had stayed out all night. Had he
done the same thing with Christy? She couldn't imagine
it. All she knew about making love was what Bobby had done
and Will couldn't do those things.
"If we get up, it will all be over," she moaned.
"Are you saying you'll never let me in your bed again?" he asked.
She pushed away from him. How could he make her feel so
fabulous at one point in time and be so annoying at another?
She looked at his face and then wished she hadn't. His eyes
were devastating, somehow.
"I didn't say that," she said.
"Well then," he said smoothly. "If we get up, all that means
is that we get to plan for and anticipate next time."
She knew, at that second, as her body reacted to his obvious desire to
be with her again, that she'd let him ... no ... ask him ... for
more. It wasn't over. It was just
suspended. That scared her a little, because she already
wanted him again.
"But you need to think about things for a while before we make plans,"
he said, destroying her rosy mood.
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