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 Fifteen

At breakfast Mirriam voiced doubts about the intelligence of being seen with a girl he'd been accused of raping. Millie had talked around, spreading rumors. Most people knew Clancy well enough to accept that if he said something was unfounded, it was probably unfounded. Still, she'd heard talk.

"The way I figure it," said Bobby, who had also gotten some looks while he was out and about, "if people see her with me and we're working together, that will take the air out of Millie's sails."

"I suppose you're right," said his mother.

"Bring a book," said Bobby, looking at Paula. "There will be some things you won't be helping me with."

She learned about faucet repair that day. She learned about the different kinds of paint and what each was used for. She learned how to replace a fuse, and the difference between the old style glass fuses that screwed into a socket, like a light bulb, and the newer style circuit breaker. She helped him refasten a rain gutter that had sagged under the weight of ice and come loose from the house.

He took her to the Wagon Wheel, where half the people whispered about them and the other half came over to meet her.

In the afternoon, she helped him split and stack firewood for an old woman who heated her house with a huge old potbellied stove, and who gave them cookies he suggested she might not want to eat.

Then they were done.

"But it's only two thirty," she said.

"That's all the jobs I have to do," he replied.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"I have something in mind," he said.

He parked behind some trees at a state park and they made out like teenagers. She got all the kissing she wanted that afternoon and let him slide his hand into her pants, to give her orgasms that she couldn't believe. They were so different than the ones she produced with her own fingers. She thought, initially, that it was because he sucked her nipples so deliciously, while his finger moved in her and back and forth outside of her. But then he did it again while kissing her. In the end she decided she didn't care and just enjoyed the third one.

He asked her to touch him too. That was something she'd drawn the line at, before this. He explained that if she learned how to do this well, it could extend the time with a man before he was crazy to fuck her.

"But then they'll want me to put my mouth on it too," she said.

"True," he admitted. "I could teach you that too, but I don't think we have enough time left before you go."

"Why does it take time?" she asked.

"Because, based on the way you said that, you don't want to do that, and you should want to before you try it," he said. "You should want to do everything, before you try it."

She wasn't keen on putting her mouth on him, but she wanted to see him ... that lump that she'd felt pressed against her. That was why she agreed to touch him. It was completely different than she thought it would be. He was warm and his penis felt soft in her hand, even though it was very hard underneath. He coached her, and she found out it was hard work at the end. The beginning was fun. She could stroke it slowly all day long, she decided. But then he needed her to speed up and her muscles began to ache. She was about to give up, when he gasped for her to go on just a few more seconds.

She was shocked at the mess. She didn't object to it getting on her hand, really, because it was warm. But there was so much of it! He had a rag that he had gotten from under the seat, and they used that to clean the blobs and stripes of his semen off of both of them.

She thought about it all as he drove them home. She realized he was right. She had enjoyed those new things, because she had wanted to see what they were like. She'd felt safe and capable of exploring without things getting out of hand. She looked over at him. It was really too bad he wasn't going to college. If he was, she had a feeling her virginity wouldn't last very much longer.

This time, at supper, it was Paula who did the majority of the talking as she described their day. It was her opinion that it had been a very good idea for her to be seen with Bobby, and for people to have met her.

They watched television that night, just relaxing. Everyone went to bed at the same time, after the news.

Paula lay in bed, naked again, and prepared to try some of the things that he had done that were different than what she usually did. She wished there had been a chance for him to see her naked again. She was just on the verge of an orgasm when the door silently opened and he stepped in.

She was under the covers, so she kept going, her hand making the covers move erratically. He stood and watched.

"Can I help?" he whispered.

She was so close! But he was here now, so she slowed. He would make her feel like she had earlier in the day and that was better.

She threw the covers back, getting her wish for him to see her naked. He was still dressed.

He bent over the bed and replaced her fingers with his, as he kissed her. It only took him a minute and she was rigid, unable even to loosen her lips to keep kissing him, as pleasure wracked her body.

His hand stopped, his finger still inside her, as he moved to go from one nipple to the other, back and forth, until she was ready for his finger to move again.

She'd had three orgasms within ten minutes of him coming into the room and she was limp and panting from the results. He was still kissing her, but they were short, nipping kisses. He stood up.

"Can I masturbate in front of you?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes bright.

He took his pants off and then his underwear. She thought he'd stop there, but he got completely naked for her. She felt zings of excitement running through her as another milestone was reached. She was completely naked with a completely naked man, for the first time.

She watched, as he showed her what he had tried to teach her that afternoon. His hand started slowly, and she stared as the bulbous head was uncovered and then hidden from sight again. Soon he was moving so fast that his hand seemed to blur.

"Can I cum on you?" he gasped.

She remembered the warm feel of his stuff on her hand. She nodded.

He moved to the edge of the bed, with his prick pointed at her belly button. She felt the urge to touch him and moved her fingers to his thigh. As she traced her fingers along his skin, his penis spat a long string of white. She hissed as she felt it make a line of warmth across her belly. His hand stopped for a split second and then moved again, and another wad of semen burst from the tip. That one landed on the carefully clipped circle of hair just above where she loved to feel his finger. The urge to rub flashed through her whole body and she took her hand from his thigh to slide it through the warm slippery stuff matting her hair. She used the slick fluid to rub all over her clit as more heat splattered onto her abdomen.

He leaned over, panting, and supported his upper body with a hand on the bed beside her. Then he abandoned his dripping penis and kissed her. When she felt his hand slide across her belly, rubbing her skin with his semen, she groaned in anticipation. He didn't disappoint her. His hand pushed hers aside and he slid a finger deep inside her. Her hips bucked upwards as his lips found hers and another orgasm thundered through her.

When it was over he went to the bathroom in her room and came back with a warm cloth.

"I seem to spend a lot of time cleaning up your naked body," he whispered, grinning.

The wet from the cloth cooled quickly and she reached for the covers, to pull them over her again. She wished he'd kiss her some more.

He didn't disappoint her then either.

Things might have gone differently the next day, except for a confluence of circumstances. The twins went to work early. Mirriam had a day planned with Prudence, and Bobby had no jobs to do that day.

That left Bobby and Paula alone ... and with nothing to keep them busy.

To boil it down to basics ... he made her breakfast and then he made her a woman.

Of course, it didn't happen that quickly or neatly. And, to be fair, neither of them planned for it to happen at all.

But Paula loved to kiss and now she had added some other loves, among them the feel of his fingers in her pussy and hers on his penis.

In relatively short order, that morning, two more loves were added.

The first was the feel of his lips and tongue on her sex. He didn't tell her he was going to do that. It just happened and, by the time she realized what he was doing, she was already hooked.

Like kissing, it was something she could enjoy all day long. He licked her through three orgasms, reared up to jack off and spray her belly with his spunk, and then feasted again, giving her three more orgasms. While he did that, she massaged her breasts with his slippery issue, spreading it all over her like lotion. He didn't see her do it, but she tasted it as well, driven by curiosity that couldn't be assuaged by anything else. She ended up licking her fingers clean, while her hips thrashed and the lovely electric sensations ripped through her body again.

They stopped long enough to clean up, get dressed, and eat lunch.

Then they got undressed again because she wanted to dance with him, naked.

He put on music and she molded herself to him. The feel of his hard prick rising to settle against her pussy lips didn't bother her. If anything, she loved the feel of her legs clamping down on it and it moving. They stood and kissed long, sucking kisses. She was astonished when he pulled back a little bit and she felt the warm rush of his sperm in her crotch. She pushed her upper body back, to look down, and watched his messy cock emerge from between her legs and then slide back in, grazing her pussy lips.

"You make me so horny," he panted.

They cleaned up again and she wondered what it would be like to lie in bed with a naked man. He showed her. Kissing like this was the best, because she could rub her naked breasts against him while they kissed and then roll back to let his lips go down to suck at her nipples. She could have an orgasm from his fingers and then be held tightly in his strong arms. She could reach for him and stroke him, and then reach to explore below that, to the heavy sack that held all that lovely, white, slippery stuff.

It was while she was stroking him that she remembered the taste. She didn't actually analyze her feelings about it. She just went with her impulse to taste him again. She also didn't tell him what she was going to do as she kissed her way down his body, but he figured it out as she kissed all over his rampant prick. She skinned the hood back and kissed the head, and then pulled the hood forward to kiss the pooched skin. She tasted with her tongue, then let her lips spread enough to put them on the bare tip and pull them off. It all felt so good that it just seemed natural to push the hood back and take the knob in her mouth.

He didn't have to teach her to suck cock. She was a natural. And while she did it, she practiced jacking him off.

There was much more to taste than what had been on her fingers, and it was there to taste without any more warning than his groan and the pulse of the thing in her hand. She was tired of having to stop and clean up, so she just swallowed as much as she could. What leaked out she sucked off of him, until he was clean and limp.

She hadn't minded kissing him after he used his mouth on her, so she didn't even think he might object to kissing her after she'd tasted him.

They cuddled and kissed. It had been hours since either had spoken a word. She explored his nipples with her lips, wondering if it felt as good to him as it did when he did it to her. She was delighted when her wandering hand eventually found him stiff again. She didn't know how long it had been since she had made him soft and she didn't care.

No one was more surprised than Paula French when, as she stroked his newly hard prick, she murmured: "I want this inside me."

Those five words were the last words spoken for another half hour. He took her at her word ... and he took his time.

He started immediately, moving over her and between legs she spread for him of her own free will. He rested the tip between her slippery pussy lips and kissed her for ten minutes. Her hips wiggled and he pressed until they stopped, still kissing her.

He was aware of her every movement and every sound she made. She was mindless, as she kissed him and waited for something to happen. She wasn't aware that her hips signaled him when it was time to move deeper. She felt the fire in her belly, the raw need to be filled, but his lips moving back and forth in a triangle between each nipple and her own panting mouth, kept her in anticipation of where they would be next.

Eventually she felt the pressure of her body being spread apart, but there was no pain. There was only the endless wait for his lips to move to the other nipple and then back to her mouth. She sucked at his tongue, trying to keep his lips there, only to release it as her nipples cried out for more love.

And every so often, her hips would twitch and his trembling muscles would urge his prick a little deeper.

The first time she actually concentrated enough to recognize that something was in her, was twenty-nine minutes after the tip of his prick kissed her pussy lips. It happened when the head pushed past the stretched lips and they clamped down onto the smaller shaft.

She sucked in breath and arched her back to push the breast he was sucking into his face.

"It's in me," she whispered.

Knowing that the worst was past, Bobby put his face over hers and pushed slowly, gaining two inches at once.

"Yes," he whispered and kissed her nose.

"It doesn't hurt," she panted.

"It's supposed to feel good," he said, smiling. He pushed again.

Her eyes bulged as he kept pushing until his pubes meshed with her tiny circle of hair.

"Ohhhh fuck," she moaned. She felt stuffed, like she'd eaten too much. But it didn't hurt.

His eyes stared into hers, their gaze locked, as he slowly pulled out and then sank back in. He rocked forward, to make his signature circle.

Paula French went absolutely, dazzlingly crazy.

Her arms went around him and crushed with astonishing strength. Her legs wrapped around him with the same motion, as if she were trying to keep him there forever. As he crushed her clitty and she realized she had a pussy full of hard male penis, her lungs gave up an agonizing groan and she tried to hunch her pussy, to further impale it on the thing that felt so incredible.

He could barely move. She was almost hanging from his body. So he rotated some more. The orgasm she had made her feel like her body was exploding, and her arms and legs both flew out from her torso as if they were the expanding gasses produced by a detonation.

Once he was free of constraint, Bobby knew to pound her. He didn't know how he knew that was the right thing, but that's what came to him, so that's what he did. His aching back muscles, held tense for so long as he eased into her, had rested briefly while he mashed her clit. They rose to the challenge now and his hips rose and fell, slamming her into the bed until she bounced under him.

Paula felt like she was floating, somehow, on a sea of tall grass. The tips of that grass supported her and, instead of tickling, it stimulated every point on her body. She felt like she could lie limply, supported by the grass, while something amazing happened in her belly. She lay completely limp, as if she'd passed out again, using all her concentration to feel what was happening in her pussy. She could feel her body moving, almost jerking as she rose and fell deeper into the grass. It felt like her insides were being massaged, but better than that. And each time he drove into her, and she felt the tip press against something that hurt in the most delicious way, her clitty gave out a little shriek of ecstasy as it was smashed.

She opened her eyes to look at his face and remembered the first time she'd seen it. She'd immediately thought of cowboys. And now, that cowboy was above her, rising and falling.

"Ride me, cowboy," she gasped.

She felt the orgasm coming, could almost see it like the wind making the tall grass ripple out in the sea of vegetation she was floating on. She knew it would overwhelm her, so she took a deep breath and held it. At the same time her limp arms and legs jerked and she grabbed onto the only solid thing she could find, because she knew that wind would tumble her body along if she didn't.

Her cry this time was loud and long, as her pussy clamped down on the invader, only to relax and clamp down again. She was sure she couldn't survive this, but welcomed it anyway.

Bobby felt her orgasm hit. He had been thinking that it was absolutely imperative that he not get this woman pregnant. He had planned his withdrawal, but couldn't resist waiting until the last second. It was just a second before that, though, that her limp body exploded into activity and he was, once again, wrapped in an all-body bear hug.

He tried. His hips jerked backwards as the first streak of pleasure shot soothingly through his prick. He did, in fact, pull his penis almost entirely out of her, leaving a thick line of white for her vaginal walls to squeeze down on. Where he made his mistake was in trying to rise up, thinking that would aide him in pulling out. Her arms tensed around his neck and her body rose with his. Her weight slammed her right back down on his prod.

The remaining four spurts of his rich seed were automatic. He couldn't have stopped them under any circumstances.

Now, suddenly, she was the one in the saddle, and her weight ensured they were delivered right into her spasming cervical mouth.

Paula lay in Bobby's warm embrace and felt like she never wanted anything to change. This was perfection. This was how men and women should be able to spend all their time. She felt his panting breath in her hair, by her ear, but it was getting slower. His face moved and she felt his lips brush her hair. She had never felt as loved and fulfilled as she did at this second.

"You okay?" came his almost whisper.

"I'm perfect," she sighed.

"That's good."

"I liked that a lot," she whispered.

"Me too."

"I don't suppose you'd marry me," she said.

His head moved back and his blue eyes looked into hers.

"You really shouldn't say things like that unless you mean them," he said.

"I know," she sighed. "I don't really want to get married right now. I'm sorry."

"You don't really want to get pregnant right now either, do you?"

Her eyes opened wide. "No!" she gasped.

"Well then, the next time I try to pull it out of you before I cum, maybe you should let me."

His comment caused a string of related thoughts to race around in Paula's head. At the head of that string was the concept of "next time," which she viewed with anticipation that made her nipples tingle. "Pregnant" was right behind, though, and that told her nipples to shut the fuck up. Then her mind thought to take stock of her body. A lot had happened in the last half hour, most of it brand new, and she expected to feel the changes that just had to have been made in her body.

She concentrated on her pussy, which just felt warm and good. He'd sucked at her nipples for hours, but they felt fine too. With something like awe, she realized that, all in all, she didn't feel that much different, physically. She wasn't even tired, really. It was more like she was so relaxed it was almost like being asleep. Her mind bounced back to "again."

"When can we do that again?" she asked.

"When do you want to do it again?" he asked, smiling.

"Right now," she said promptly.

"How about we rest for half an hour," he suggested.

She settled for that, because he started kissing her again. A half hour of those kisses was the blink of an eye, it seemed. Then he pushed her onto her back and got to his knees. She gaped at his prick. It was the same as before. She just couldn't believe it had been inside her. She spread her legs unconsciously.

She lifted her head to watch, as the tip kissed pussy lips that looked wrong somehow. They were much darker than they'd been before, with a translucent, shiny coating of something milky white on them. She watched it push her pussy lips apart. Feeling it going in and watching it happen at the same time made her brain feel like it had split in half. The feeling part was more important, so she closed her eyes.

She thought her favorite foods, for some reason. This was even more delicious. It was also completely different than before. She couldn't put her finger on why that was, until she remembered that floating feeling. That wasn't there, this time. She was in a bed and he was right above her. Her hands went to his arms and she slid them up to his shoulders, feeling his skin and the muscles under it.

He also didn't bang against her when he went in. He was moving more slowly, like he was just stroking her insides. She lifted her head again and watched it come out of her. It was coated with that shiny white stuff. She realized that was his sperm. He'd said he'd cum in her. Her belly did flip-flops as the importance of that hit her. She was sure she wasn't pregnant. She didn't feel pregnant. It was a little like stepping into the street and being missed by a speeding car ... by mere inches. She was still watching when he went in and stayed, to rotate.

She flopped back down as her clitty hummed happily. She suddenly didn't care if she got pregnant, as long as she could have this.

Bobby was more careful, this time, and clamped down on his own passion. He watched her face instead of kissing her. Her facial expressions flitted from one to another as the feelings she was experiencing ramped up. He went so slowly that it took ten minutes before her eyes, mouth, and breathing rate told him she was on the verge of an orgasm, and he went in to rub at her to get her over the edge. It was amazing watching her face twist and hearing her whine, as her pussy fluttered around him.

She wanted kisses then, so he gave them to her and paid some attention to her nipples to get her over the edge again. He had entered that state that some men can experience where the real gratification isn't tied to the feeling in his prick and balls, but is pinned to seeing the pleasure he is creating in his partner. When a man can slip into that mode, he can go for a long time.

Eventually, though, biology makes demands of a man who is in the process of trying to keep the species going. He managed to wait until she was between orgasms and her legs were lying loosely spread.

Then, again waiting until the last possible second, he pulled out. His prick rose, bobbing up, and a long stripe of white jetted from his penis, to land from just below her breasts to that little circle of dark hair above her clitty. His prick sagged a quarter of an inch and the next two spurts covered her pubic hair, as if it were a target. His penis sagged another half inch in the process and his last spurt landed neatly in the gaping maw of her pussy mouth.

He froze there, his arms locked, as her hands came up to massage his cum into her skin. Her breasts got shiny as her hands moved in circles over them.

"I love that," she panted. "It feels so warm."

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