The Making of a Gigolo (15) - Agatha Roberts

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 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36

Chapter Ten

By the time he kissed Agatha goodbye, in view of anyone who cared to look, as she stood by her packed car, Bobby was almost not-sad she was leaving. Between Agatha and the twins, to say nothing of Erica Bradford, it had been a long autumn.

He spent the rest of November and December working on the apartments in the barn. Once the floor was poured, he started on the exterior walls. It was a lot like building a house, except that he was able to use plywood on the outside, rather than weatherproof sheathing. With few windows to install, the work went more quickly. He ran the wiring himself, but had an electrician check everything. Plumbing was the biggest job. He'd stubbed everything off when the floor was poured, but it just went to a three inch pipe outside the barn. He still had to lay the rest of the line to the waste system that the house dumped into.

The real problem was that at the end of December, they ran out of money.

They say that when one door closes, another opens. That happened for Bobby, in late December, though he didn't know it then. And then, of course, there is the problem that some open doors are better left un-entered. But that part will come later.

It was on the twenty-seventh of December that Bobby got a call from Felicity Chumley, asking for a favor. The favor was actually for her friend, Millie Vaughn. It seemed that Millie's sister, a college aged girl named Paula, was going to visit for a week or so and needed a date for the New Year's Eve party that Felicity was throwing. She said she'd just naturally thought of Bobby.

"Can you do that for me?" asked Felicity.

"You know how helpless I am when it comes to you," he sighed, theatrically.

"You can't fool around with this girl," said Felicity. "Millie was worried when I suggested you. She doesn't know exactly what happened between you and me, but she knows you're not the average male friend of mine."

"No problem," said Bobby. "I'll be a good boy."

"That's what I'm worried about," said Felicity, her voice a low purr. "Sometimes you're too good."

"Awwww," said Bobby. "Wasn't two enough for Chester?"

"That's what I'm talking about, Bobby Dalton!" she yipped into the phone. "Every time I talk to you I, think about having more children. I have my hands full as it is, thank you very much. The last thing I need is another baby. Why do you think I've been avoiding you for the last six months?"

"I just thought you were tired of me," said Bobby, trying to sound sincere.

"Well you just keep your hands off of me at the party too. And don't listen to Chester either."

"So he does want another one?"

"Will you take care of this girl for me or not?" she asked, her voice stern.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. "I'll do you proud."

"You won't do me at all," she growled. "Regardless of what my husband wants."

Bobby laughed. "Okay. I promise to behave myself around you too."

Felicity still had a mental image of Bobby in her mind after she hung up the phone. She felt the now familiar tingle in her nipples and the hunger in her belly. It had been one of the hardest things she ever did to stop having her sexual liaisons with him. Even now, after six months without feeling his weight on her and his delightfully stiff penis inside her, she still ached to be with him.

She pushed those thoughts away. She was too busy with his other children, and her foundations, and taking care of Chester to give in to her urges. Maybe on the anniversary of their meeting she would treat herself to a night of bliss. Her nipples tingled more at that thought and she went in search of her husband. Maybe a couple of quick orgasms would satisfy her.

Bobby parked his car and walked to the front door. The party was obviously already going, even though he was there right on time. It wasn't hard to imagine the people who thought of themselves as movers and shakers, in Granger, to want to arrive early.

Felicity knew how to throw a party. It was eight in the evening, but the house was already crowded with people talking too loud and drinking too much. Most people just threw him a wave as he threaded his way through the throng, looking for Felicity. She had said that Millie wanted him to meet her sister here, instead of picking her up at the Vaughn house.

He saw her in a gaggle of people, both men and women. Millie was there too. Bobby surveyed the young woman standing beside Millie. She was looking around and appeared to be bored. Everyone around her was smiling, but she was looking this way and that, as if to find something to be interested in. He pegged her as Millie's sister because of the facial resemblance. The resemblance stopped there. Millie was shorter than her sister and had brown, curly hair, while Paula's was black and straight. Millie was more full bodied, while Paula was slim and less curvy.

Bobby worked his way behind Felicity and reached with both hands to casually stroke her sides, at her waist. She turned to face him.

"I should have known it was you," she said. She looked at him through lowered lashes.

"Just wanted you to know I was here," he said, putting an innocent look on his face.

Felicity pulled him around, to face Millie and Paula.

"Paula, this is Bobby," said Felicity.

Bobby had been looked at by a lot of women. Most of them hadn't looked him over like Paula did though ... not until much later in their relationship. Her eyes dropped and then rose, and a smile came onto her face."

"I approve," she said.

"Paula!" barked her sister. "You just remember what I told you!"

"Don't wig out, Millie," said the girl, still looking at Bobby. "I just figured any blind date you got for me would be a disaster. I'm pleasantly surprised, that's all." Her eyes fastened on Bobby's face. "For now, anyway," she added. She addressed Bobby. "Can you dance, cowboy?"

She was making reference to Bobby's attire. He had chosen a western shirt and jeans, with boots. He had checked a jacket at the front door. It was cold and windy outside.

"I'll try not to step on your toes too often," he said.

"You just be home by one or two," said Millie. She was staring at Bobby too.

Millie was the one who had first told Felicity about Bobby Dalton and suggested that he might be the answer to a problem Felicity had. She had made that suggestion mostly in jest and had later been astonished when she found out Felicity had hired the man. Millie and Felicity spent a lot of time together, and it had been impossible to miss the changes in Felicity's demeanor, after Bobby Dalton came into her life. She would never talk about him, but at the same time, she mentioned him too often.

And then there had been the babies, of course.

Felicity wouldn't talk about them either, or more correctly about how she came to have them, other than to say that Chester was responsible. That was the word she had always used ... responsible. It didn't take a rocket scientist, though, to tell that Felicity and Bobby's relationship was very close ... maybe too close. But Millie also knew that Chester had no objection whatsoever toward having Bobby around ... so there couldn't be anything untoward going on. In one sense, Millie was a little jealous of her friend. There were lots of times when Millie wished she could spend a few hours with a man other than her husband, who wasn't nearly as attentive to her needs as he used to be. It wasn't that she wanted to cheat on him. She just knew spending some time with an interesting man like Bobby would be ... interesting.

As she watched her little sister be led away by the man, she hoped he wouldn't be too interesting. Paula seemed to go through men like poop through a goose. So far, in the four years she'd been at college, it had been impossible to keep up with the latest name of the latest boyfriend. During their phone calls in the last year, Millie had taken to asking "Anything interesting on the love front?" instead of asking if Paula was still going with so and so. Paula's answer was routinely, "Nothing yet."

"She'll be fine," said Felicity into her ear. "He promised to be a good boy."

Millie's curiosity burst out of her, temporarily out of control.

"Was he always a good boy with you, Felicity?"

Felicity's eyes went guarded, like they always did when Millie questioned her about Bobby Dalton. "He always acted exactly like I wanted him to act," she said.

Millie stared at her friend for a few seconds longer. Someone bumped into her and the drink in her hand spilled. It broke her concentration and when she looked back at Felicity, she was already talking to someone else.

Paula had taken Bobby's hand and pulled him toward the dining room, which had a hard wood floor. All the furniture had been removed, and it was being used as a dance floor. There was a disk jockey who had been hired to provide music. He was currently playing older rock and roll, since many at the party were in their thirties and forties.

They danced, then as soon as the music stopped, Paula grabbed a drink off of one of the platters being carried through the throng by hired waiters. It was champagne, based on the bubbles drifting up from the bottom. She tossed it off like it was water and made a face.

"I don't think you're supposed to drink it that fast," said Bobby.

"I'm twenty-one!" she said. "I can drink it as fast as I want to."

"How long have you been twenty-one?" he asked.

"Since yesterday," she said. "That's why I came here for New Year's Eve. My parents are old fogies. Twenty-one or not, they wouldn't have let me have anything to celebrate with, back home."

"Well, all I'm saying is that you'll probably have more fun if you sip it instead of chugging it."

"I was thirsty," she said. "You're a better dancer than I expected."

"Careful," he said, smiling. "You'll give me a big head."

The girl folded her arms under her breasts. "Is everything else about you big too?"

You might think, what with Bobby's experience and all, that this kind of comment wouldn't faze him. You'd be wrong. He was actually shocked that she'd be so forward with him, having just met him.

"They didn't tell me you were so young," he said, ignoring her question.

"And they didn't tell me my date was going to be a big, bad cowboy." She dimpled at him. "Are we going to dance or are you going to turn into my parents?"

Bobby wasn't at all sure this had been a good idea. Paula flirted with him relentlessly. And, after every second or third dance, she slammed another glass of champagne, regardless of how often he warned her to sip instead of chug. She gyrated wildly to fast songs and rubbed up against him on the slow ones.

He knew she was getting drunk. She was less and less steady on her feet and took his hand more and more often, leaning on him. She was all smiles and giggles, though, and was obviously having a good time.

In the end, he came up with an idea to get her away from the champagne, at least for a little while.

"Let's take a break," he said. "You're wearing me out and I need some air."

"Can't keep up with the youngsters?" she teased, weaving slightly.

"Let's get something to eat," he said. "It will be midnight soon and I skipped supper, thinking there would be food."

"There is food," she giggled. "But I want to dance!"

She let go of him and whirled in a circle. He had to catch her when she lost her balance. In the process his hand cupped one of her breasts.

"Now that's more like it," she giggled, apparently completely unconcerned that she was being groped.

He managed to get her to the buffet and managed to get them two plates. He yelled at her to follow him and took her to the kitchen, which turned out to be empty. The event was being catered and the caterers were working out of vans parked out back. There was some traffic through the kitchen, but not much. He put her plate on the counter. She'd grabbed another glass of champagne while she was following him. When she saw he was looking, she sipped delicately.

"Like that?" She giggled.

"Yes, like that," he said.

"I like it better like this," she said and tossed it off, spilling some of it over the rim of the glass and past her cheeks. There were streaks of wet that went down the front of her blouse, clear to the tips of her beasts. "Damn," she said, looking owlishly down at the spills.

"Eat something," he said, pushing her plate towards her.

"I'm not hungry," she said, her voice slurred. She giggled.

A mass of voices could be heard through the kitchen door, counting down. "SIX ... FIVE ... FOUR ... THREE ... TWO ... " The roar of "Happy New Year!" would have been indecipherable, had they not known what was being said.

Paula wobbled over to Bobby, her arms going up. They slid around his neck and most of her weight went on him.

"Happy New Year," she slurred. "Kiss me, cowboy!"

Bobby figured there was no other recourse, really, so he kissed the girl hanging off of him.

It was during that kiss that she went completely limp.

Bobby had felt women go limp in his arms before ... a number of times, in fact. That part wasn't strange. What was strange was that, after the first few seconds, she was so completely limp that he had to hold her up entirely. He pulled his face away from hers and her head lolled to one side. Her mouth was hanging open in a half smile.

"Damn, that was a kiss," she sighed.

"Stand up," he ordered.

"Don't thiiiiink sooooo," she giggled. "My legs don't work," she slurred.

Now he had a problem. He picked her up in his arms. He faced the kitchen door, but paused. She started singing some song and giggled some more. He couldn't take her out there into the throng of people. Both Millie and Felicity would be embarrassed. He thought about using the side door to the kitchen, which led upstairs to the servant quarters. There would be a bed he could put her on up there, to let her sleep it off. But he wasn't sure that was a good idea either. Who knew if she'd stay there, or what she'd do if she wandered around.

He decided the best thing to do was just take her to Millie's, put her to bed, and let her sleep it off there.

He felt a little put out with the girl. He thought of her as a girl, twenty-one or not. She was lucky she was with him. Some other guy might have taken advantage of her condition. His anger made him decide to carry her over his shoulder, rather than in his arms. He'd have to go out the back way, and around the house, and all the way to his car with her. She was already a pain in the ass. He didn't want her to be a pain in his shoulders too.

He walked right past a caterer who was bringing yet another case of champagne in through the back door. The man just grinned at him and went on about his business.

He'd had to leave both his coat and hers behind. He thought about putting her in his car and going back for them. He should also tell Millie what was happening. Paula seemed to regain consciousness, though. She started moaning. He knew she couldn't be comfortable, slung over his shoulder like a side of beef, but he didn't feel much compassion for her. He bent over to put her into the front seat of his car.

She promptly threw up ... all over herself, and the car, and parts of him.

"Shit!" he growled. Her head lolled to one side. Her mouth was dripping. It only took him four or five seconds to realize she'd passed out.

Her vomit seemed to be mostly fluid. That made sense. He hadn't seen her eat anything. He was pissed off that she'd drink like that on an empty stomach. The smell was awful. With a sigh he closed the door and went around to his side. Better to get her home quickly, so he could clean out the car. He could call the mansion from there.

He knew where the Vaughns lived and drove straight there. He was going to get her puke on him any way he did this, so he just carried her over his shoulder again.

The windows were dark and the door was locked. So was the back door.

"Shit!" he sighed again. He already reeked. So did she. And his car, of course.

He started the car again, to keep the heater going. He could either take her back to the party, which would result in embarrassment for everyone ... or take her to the B&B and put her to bed there. Frustration made him choose the B&B.

It was dark there too. His mother and the twins had gone to Prudence's for the evening and he knew they'd probably stay all night, rather than come home late. Prudence had room, if the twins slept in one bed. They did that often enough, even sleeping three to a bed when they wanted loving from Bobby. But the house was open and the washing machine was right inside the back door, in the utility room. They didn't have any guests this weekend, which was good.

He took her in and dumped her on the floor. She moaned and mumbled, but didn't wake up. He stripped her efficiently, then himself, putting all of the clothing in the washer together. She'd wake up naked, but he didn't think she'd care, based on her behavior during the evening.

He carried her to the bathroom and laid her on the floor, while he got a washcloth to clean her up. He couldn't help but assess her body as he cleaned her. Her breasts were modest mounds, with tiny areolas and very dark nipples. She apparently wore a bikini, because her pubic hair was trimmed to a very small patch, just above the split of her sex. Her pussy lips were white and tightly closed. He couldn't do much about her hair, which had gotten soiled as he carried her around. He left her on the floor and stepped into the shower to get the stink off of himself. She was snoring when he got out and dried off.

He put her in what they called The Tallgrass Room. She flopped limply as he arranged her in bed. He didn't want to put her on her back, in case she upchucked again. She could choke. Things were bad enough without something like that. He covered her up so she'd stay warm, turned the light off and closed the door.

He called the mansion and a drunken male voice picked up the phone, yelling "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Bobby asked for Felicity or Millie and the man said "Hang on."

Ten minutes later it was obvious he had been forgotten. He couldn't call back, because the man had just laid the phone down. He hung up in disgust and went to bed.

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