|
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.
<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>
|