The Making of a Gigolo (14) - Erica Bradford

by Lubrican

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Chapter Twenty-two

The aftermath of the night that changed everything for both Erica and Will Bradford was surprisingly anticlimactic for both of them.

Bobby was gone when Christy pushed Will up the ramp and into the house. Will was nervous, but his sister smiled tentatively at him and welcomed Christy, who didn't stay long since Jillian was in the car.

Both siblings were feeling similar things. Both felt desirable and like there was a new kind of hope in their lives. For Will, that hope was for a continuing relationship with Christy. For Erica, the hope was for continuing success in her professional pursuits, which had broadened, as well as anticipation for another night ... some night ... like last night. Bobby's cautioning comments about how she should think about things, and his lack of an attempt to climb on top of her before he left, had cemented in her mind that he was completely trustworthy and that he'd never try to manipulate her. She already knew that the next time she spread her thighs for a man, it would be intentional and it would be Bobby Dalton again. She just didn't know when that would be.

That contented feeling was what smoothed the initial reunion of brother and sister. Both had eaten breakfast. After perhaps ten minutes of slightly uncomfortable tension, Erica broke it.

"Did you have a good time last night?" she asked.

"I did," he said. He'd already decided that what had happened was so important that he and his sister would have to come to grips with it somehow.

"That's good," she said. "I did too." She'd already decided that if Will was somehow in a relationship that would keep him out all night, he'd have to understand that she could have that kind of relationship too.

"Bobby brought you home, didn't he?" asked Will softly.

She was surprised.

"Yes," she said.

"And you had a good time with him?"

"Yes," she said, more carefully.

"Did he stay all night?" asked Will. Christy had told him a lot about Bobby Dalton as they lay together that morning. She had insisted that before he made real decisions, he know the truth.

Erica hadn't planned on getting into it quite this quickly or quite this boldly, but something in his voice demanded the truth.

"Yes," she said.

Her brother's next comment astonished her.

"I think you can trust him."

"What?"

"I think you can trust him," said Will. "He cares about the women he sleeps with."

"Will!" moaned Erica. This was going much too quickly and much too plainly.

"As long as you're on the pill, anyway," said Will.

"Will!" she moaned again. Her hands over her face muffled her voice a little. "What are you talking about?"

Will felt his first misgivings. Christy hadn't demanded that anything she told him be kept secret, though it was obvious it wouldn't do anybody any good to be bandied about in public. And one of the things he had worried about for years was that his sister's beliefs would keep her from finding a man to love. Based on what Christy had told him, it wasn't likely that Erica would fall in love with Bobby or vice versa, but it was possible. He didn't want to queer the deal by telling her things that might drive them apart. That was Bobby's responsibility ... not his. And if Bobby hadn't "broken her in," then she most certainly didn't need to know about his ... other pursuits.

"I'm just saying that accidents can happen," he said vaguely. "Sometimes things happen that aren't planned."

That resonated with Erica, but she was embarrassed now. She wanted to change the subject.

"Was she good to you?" asked Erica.

"I hope Bobby was half as good to you as she was to me," sighed Will.

"I still love you," she said.

"I love you too," he responded. "I'll always love you."

"What does this mean?" she asked. "About us?" she clarified.

"I don't want to sleep alone ever again," sighed Will.

"Me either," thought his sister. She wasn't aware she had actually said it softly.

It wasn't unusual for Bobby to stay away from home for a night. Both his mother and the twins had gotten used to that idea. It would be too much to say they had resigned themselves to him being gone some nights. That would indicate that they relied on him more heavily than they actually did. All three women loved him and loved spending time with him in bed, both for lovemaking and for just sleeping in his arms. But they had their own lives, too, and Bobby being gone didn't stop life from happening.

Life was going on, in fact, when Bobby got home. Mirriam was getting a roast ready for the oven. Matilda was gathering eggs and Betty, to Bobby's surprise, was painting the walls of Florence's old room. He found that out when his mother turned to greet him as he came in and said, "Go check on Betty. I'm not sure she knows what she's doing, even if she swears she does."

That was all she'd said. It was Betty who explained what had happened while Bobby was at the musical.

"Your girlfriend called," said Betty, bending over to load a roller with apricot colored paint. She'd put down one of Bobby's ground cloths and had already prepped the wall by using a brush to put a three inch swath of the new color along the ceiling.

"My girlfriend?" he asked.

"Misty," she said, as if that was no longer anything special.

"I wasn't aware Misty was my girlfriend," he said.

"Then why is she coming here again?" asked Betty.

She broke then. She'd been trying to act casual, but couldn't pull it off. She turned and her arms went out and it was obvious she was going to hug Bobby. He managed to take the roller away from her before she enveloped him in her arms. She ground her pussy on his hip, having to lean back a little to make that happen. The twins were four months along and beginning to show in that obvious way that makes people look twice. She was giggling and trying to kiss him, but couldn't do that at the same time she rubbed.

"I'm horny," she sighed, giving up on his leg and rocking forward for the kiss.

"Tell me about Misty," he said.

She pouted.

"She called last night. She's coming for a visit."

"Did she say why?" he asked.

"She said something about business," said Betty. "She talked to Mamma mostly. Tildy answered the phone. I didn't get to do anything but say hi."

"I'd better go talk to Mamma," he said.

"But I'm horny!" she complained.

"Will you still be horny after lunch, when Mamma takes her nap?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "I'm horny all the time, since you knocked us up."

"Betty!" he moaned. "I didn't knock you up. I made you pregnant. We made a baby together. Our love resulted in conception. I can think of a dozen ways to say it that don't bring the image to my mind of me swinging a two by four around while you two run naked, trying to escape."

She grinned. "All I know is that I'm horny all the time since you spurted a baby into my belly."

"I'll see you after lunch," he sighed. He handed her the roller back and started to leave. Then he paused. "You're doing a good job, by the way."

She beamed at him.

"Thank you!"

Back in the kitchen, Bobby got the whole story from his mother. Misty had said she just needed to get away for a couple of days, to write some songs without the normal interruptions.

"She asked about you," said his mother, her eyes narrowing.

He hadn't told his mother that Misty was pregnant. He hadn't really thought she'd come back to Kansas. He thought. She'd be a little more than two months along. She might not be showing that much. He knew he had to say something, because his mother was staring at him, waiting.

"We get along much better these days," he said carefully.

Mirriam saw the caution flash in her son's eyes. She wasn't sure how to evaluate that, though.

"You're to pick her up at the airport next Thursday."

For Erica, the angst she felt about everything seemed to calm down in some ways and heat up in others. The night after both brother and sister found ecstasy in the arms of others, they slept together. That had been a little tense for both of them, for the same reason.

Will had always had the urge to find out what Erica's pussy felt like wrapped around his prick. Now, Erica wondered the same thing. She knew, on a cerebral level, that her dream had been about Will's penis, because it was the only penis she was really familiar with. But the image of her brother's penis poised above her pussy lips could not be banished. There were two images she could summon up now. Neither could be banished.

Both siblings knew, however, that they had already pushed their relationship beyond the point where anyone would understand. Bobby hadn't judged Erica, but she couldn't believe he would be supportive. For that reason, their passions did not inflame that night and they just slept together.

The next night was the same. Both Bobby and Christy seemed to be letting their new lovers have the time to think about things. That didn't satisfy new longings, though, and on the third night both Will and Erica were missing what they'd had together.

They finally talked about it, long into the night. A few more details of each other's nights of passion were shared and they confessed some of the urges they had had for each other. As they talked, her hand drifted to his stomach and her fingertips played with the hair just above his prick, which was stiff.

"Is it wrong for me to think about you that way?" asked Erica.

"If it is, then we're both wrong. I think about it too," he sighed. "All I know is I love you and I think I love Christy too. It's weird. Six months ago I looked forward to a nurse stopping by for ten minutes, and figured that was all I could ever look forward to."

"Six months ago I didn't look forward to anything that had to do with sex," said his sister.

"It's better now ... for both of us ... isn't it?" His voice made it plain he wanted her to agree with him.

"Yes," she said softly. "I can't imagine going back to where I was then."

"Just with me?" he asked, wondering if he would have to give up Christy to keep from abandoning his sister.

"Not just you," she said, her voice just above an audible whisper. "You deserve a full life with a woman you can take out in public. What will happen with you and Christy?" she asked, her voice louder.

"She said she'd call me," he said. The concept of "taking a woman out in public" would have made him howl with mixed anger and laughter, a month before this. Now it went over his head as if it wasn't an issue at all. "She said she wanted to see me lots more." He paused. "What about you ... and Bobby?"

"I'm not in love with him," she said. "If that's what you mean. I love what happened, but it's not like I found my prince and can never leave his side."

"Will you see him again ... like that?" he asked. He was assuming some things, but she'd hinted strongly that they'd spent the night in bed, and not sitting up talking.

"He said that was up to me," she responded.

"And?"

"Do you want to be with Christy again?" she asked.

"Yes." He wondered if she'd pull away from him now.

"I want to be with him again too," she said.

That let them renew their own relationship. She kissed him for the first time, and scooted down to suck at him until he spurted on her nipples, while she pulled and twisted them, until they were too slippery to grasp.

Both found release and could then sleep.

Neither was fully satisfied, though.

When Christy called, it was ten in the morning. Erica was at school so Will hopped to get it.

"You doing anything?" Christy asked.

The first thing he thought of was that it was ten in the morning, which was a strange time to be interested in sex.

"No," he said.

"I have an idea," she said. "Can I come pick you up?"

"Sure," he said. He suddenly didn't care what time it was.

Christy had knocked and then walked in when she got to his house. He was ready to go and she pulled him up to kiss him thoroughly. But then she had put him in the car and driven him to her house. She wheeled him into her house, but not to the bedroom, as he'd expected her too.

She took him to the darkroom instead of the bedroom. Once inside, she leaned against the counter and folded her arms under her breasts.

"Did they ever talk to you about an artificial leg?" she asked.

That was out of the blue and something he hadn't thought about for a long time.

"Yes," he said. "I wasn't interested."

"How come?"

"What good would it do me to be able to walk around?" he asked. "The chair is easier."

"Not if you want to work in a place like this," she said. It was obvious she was talking about the darkroom. "If you could stand comfortably, you could develop pictures."

"Okay," he admitted.

"Jill is married and is only working part time now," she said. "I need more help than that. I thought you might want a job."

The mix of emotions he felt at that moment was tumultuous. He wondered if she'd had second thoughts about their physical relationship and was offering this as some kind of compensation for pulling back from him.

"I never thought about it," he said.

"Well ... think about it," she suggested. She leaned over. "We'd get to see each other a lot more."

The tone in her voice, delivered in a sing-song manner, banished all insecurities. There was raw sexual invitation in her voice. He felt himself stiffen in his pants almost instantly.

On Thursday, the 19th, Bobby stood on the concourse, again waiting for a woman named Misty Compton to get off a plane in Kansas. This time he held no cardboard sign. He saw her coming, carrying her guitar case, and waited for her. He couldn't help but drop his eyes to her abdomen. She was wearing a coat and didn't look any different than any other woman. She walked up to him, rested the end of the case on the floor, and looked around.

"I'd kiss you," she said softly, "but there has been a ... development."

"Oh?"

"A reporter bought the seating chart from the CMA awards banquet and got your name from it."

He frowned.

"They still don't know where you are and it's kind of blown over, but if anybody here recognized me and saw me kissing you, it could be a problem."

"Why in the world did you have me pick you up?" he asked.

"Because I couldn't wait longer to see you than it's already been." She smiled brilliantly and picked up her guitar. "Now, let's see if they lost my luggage again."

They hadn't. Her battered blue suitcase was one of the first six that slid out onto the belt and ten minutes later they were in Bobby's car.

"Hurry up and get out of here," she said, getting on her knees and facing the rear to lean and open the guitar case she'd put on the back seat. She came back with the instrument.

He worked his way out of the parking lot and onto Kellogg Street.

"You remember I wrote a song about us?" she asked, tuning her guitar.

"Yeah." He smiled.

"It's called 'First Love'."

"I'm still honored," he said.

She sang it to him there in the car. It was plain from the beginning that it had a melancholy air to it. It was slow and soft. The lyrics told of two spirits drifting and becoming enmeshed by the winds of fate, only to be pulled apart again as the winds kept blowing. He could hear the yearning in her voice as the chorus told of searching for that feeling again and again. It was implied that neither the original man nor an appropriate substitute had been found by the woman singing.

The second verse was all about hope and moving forward, and knowing that love was out there, at the same time she was mourning the loss of her first love who the winds of fate had taken away.

When she was done they rode in silence for a while.

"Well?" she asked.

"It sounds almost like you're saying goodbye." He glanced over at her.

"I am," she said. There was a six or seven second pause. "At least for now."

"I don't understand," he said.

"It's going to be obvious soon that I'm pregnant," she said. "When that happens the press will go crazy. My original album hit seven hundred and fifty thousand and everybody thinks the one I'm doing now will do even better. They know your name, Bobby, and you're the only man I've been seen with. They don't know where you are and I don't want them to find you."

"You're ashamed of me?"

"You know better than that," she said, reaching to touch his shoulder. "I don't want them to hound you or your family. I don't want them snooping around Granger, Kansas and seeing all those little boys with black hair and your jaw and your eyes. I don't want your world ruined."

"Why did you chance coming here, then?" he asked. It was a valid question.

"I had to say goodbye," she said. "And I had to do that in person."

"Why?" he asked. "I mean wouldn't it have been easier just to write me a letter or something?"

"No." Her voice was firm. "It's important for me to know that you understand that even though I'm doing this, I still love you. I'll always love you. You're my first love."

"You could have written that in a letter," he said.

"But I couldn't have shown you."

"You didn't have to fly here just to sing me a song."

"Oh, that's not how I'm going to show you," she said, getting on her knees to put her guitar away again. She sat down beside him and her hand went to the inside of his right thigh.

"Oh?" The car suddenly accelerated ten miles an hour, before he eased back off the pedal.

"I'm spending some time at Dalton's Bed and Breakfast," she said, pulling his arm around her shoulder. "I hear the food is excellent." Her hand slid up to press into his groin. "But it's the bed part I came here for."

He carried her guitar in one hand and her suitcase in the other, from the car to the door.

"Give Mirriam and me a minute," she said, reaching for the knob as if she lived there. "I'd like you to take my guitar to my bedroom, please."

"Sure," he said.

"And stay there," she said, giving him a smoky look.

Mirriam was in the kitchen, making bread, but dusted off her hands to come and hug Misty, who had taken off her coat. Mirriam froze and then pulled back, to look down at what she had felt pressing into her stomach.

"Oh no," she moaned.

"Sit down," said Misty. "We need to talk."

Bobby waited in the newly decorated room. The orange/apricot/butter colors made the room warm and cozy. Even the bedspread went with the color scheme. He took off his coat and wondered what was going on downstairs. When Misty had taken off her coat he could see the bare beginnings of the swell of her belly, under the loose frilly blouse she was wearing. His mother would be able to tell. He knew that.

It was fully twenty minutes before he heard footsteps in the hallway and Misty opened the door. She looked around the room.

"I approve," she said. "It's beautiful ... almost perfect."

"They worked hard on it," he said. "What did Mamma say?"

"She said yes."

Bobby blinked. That didn't make sense.

Misty looked around again. "There's only one thing wrong with the decorations."

Off balance, Bobby looked around himself.

"What?"

"There's no naked man in the bed, waiting for me."

He moaned.

"My mother is probably out picking a switch to whip me with right now!" he groaned.

"No she's not. She's on her way over to Prudence's to tell her the news."

"What?!" Bobby goggled. "I thought this was all supposed to be a secret!"

"It is, from the press. I don't care if people here in town know about it." She was smiling a teasing smile and Bobby's senses went on alert.

"What's going on, Misty?" he asked.

"Why would I care if people in Granger knew that I was a silent partner in the Dalton Bed and Breakfast?" she asked innocently. "It's just an investment. That's all."

"You're kidding me," he said weakly.

"Nope." She grinned.

"She didn't notice ... the other?" His eyes went to her abdomen.

"This?" she asked, pulling her shirt up to reveal the gentle swell of a stomach that looked maybe pregnant ... but maybe just overfed too.

"Yes!" he said, frustrated.

"Of course she did," said Misty. "I explained things to her. The investment will eventually belong to my son ... or daughter. Whichever."

"Ohhhhh, she's going to have my hide," he moaned.

"I told you," said Misty, unbuttoning her blouse. She tossed it on the bed and then undid her bra and bared her breasts. She stood only in jeans and boots. "I explained it to her."

"You don't know Mamma," he moaned.

"I think my breasts are already bigger," she said, ignoring him. "Don't you think so?" She thrust them out at him.

"Misty!" he barked. "She didn't just go off to let us be alone. That's not my mother's style."

"She agreed to let me be her partner," said Misty. "She said you're going to have a lot of work to do to renovate the house. She said something about how maybe that would keep you out of further trouble. I may have said something about how I sent you to this room and ordered you to stay here. I can't remember for sure. It's possible that I said something about keeping an eye on you myself." She smiled brilliantly, like she had at the airport. "Anyway, she said she couldn't wait to tell Prudence the news and told me she hoped I knew what I was getting into."

"Man oh man," sighed Bobby.

Misty Compton rubbed both hands in circles over her slightly protruding belly.

"There's still no naked man in my bed," she pouted. "I certainly hope my business judgment isn't flawed. I had such high hopes that my stay here would be pleasant."

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