The Making of a Gigolo (15) - Agatha Roberts

by Lubrican

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Chapter Eighteen

Tracie was a nervous wreck. She was sitting in the parlor of the sorority house, having chewed her fingernails to ruins, when the man she had seen only once before walked in.

Her mind split, at that point. Half of it confirmed that the man Paula had raved about was indeed a hunk, as she remembered. That half sent signals to her belly that said "Oh yes!"
Upbringing is a difficult thing to overcome, sometimes though, and it was that half of her that cringed at the thought of this large, muscular man hulking over her naked body while her cherished virginity was ripped from her loins.

It took her only one point five seconds to chicken out.

"I'm looking for Paula French," said the man in a deep voice that made Tracie almost vibrate.

"Sh-sh-she's not here," Tracie said weakly.

He looked at her interestedly. "Don't I know you?" he asked.

Tracie had heard that line from a dozen young men, who had tried to start conversations with her. She'd always wanted to laugh when they tried it. She didn't feel like laughing now, though. She felt like taking her shirt off. She chickened out again.

"I ... I picked Paula up at your house," she said weakly.

"Oh, yeah," he said. His interest seemed to wane. "Where is she?"

Tracie was a little bit stung. Why wasn't he putting the make on her?!

"Her parents came and picked her up," she said.

"Really!" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yes," she said, her voice firming. If he wasn't going to notice her as a woman ... well ... he was the loser here! "They came to get her and take her home for Spring Break."

Bobby's response to that was somewhat surprising, to both of them. Without Paula, he didn't know where he was supposed to go. That was a good thing, in the sense that he had gotten less and less comfortable with this whole cherry picking thing with every mile closer to Manhattan he drove. It just felt wrong. And if he couldn't fulfill his promise because Paula wasn't there, then it really wasn't his fault. So he smiled.

"That's too bad," he said.

Tracie saw the smile, and misinterpreted it. From her viewpoint, Bobby was smiling because with Paula gone, that left him free to pursue her. Paula hadn't actually told her any details about how all this was supposed to go. She just said that Bobby had agreed to be there to take care of "all of us." She knew that Paula had planned on sneaking him into the sorority house, which wouldn't be that hard since almost everyone was gone for Spring Break anyway. Tracie just assumed that, when it was her turn, Paula would bring him to her room. Now he was here ... and he was ready! She was not.

"I'm supposed to take you over to Melanie's house," she blurted. She expected him to suggest they go to her room any second.

"Melanie?" He looked confused, but it passed quickly. "Oh ... is that where I'm supposed to ... be?"

"Yes!" she said, too loudly. She had to do something to undo her pledge to participate. "I changed my mind," she gasped.

"You changed your mind?" He was clearly confused.

"About doing this," she said weakly.

"About doing what?" he asked.

She stared at him. He seemed not to know what she was talking about. "You know," she said. "About why you're here."

His face went smooth.

"Oh," he said. He seemed uncomfortable for some reason. "You were ... um ... one of them?"

In a flash of understanding Tracie realized that he didn't have much information about this either. He hadn't even known she was one of the women he was there to see! She felt better instantly.

"Yes, but I decided not to," she said.

"Oh, okay," he said. "That's fine."

She felt a twinge of disappointment that he was willing to give up so easily on her. It just confirmed in her own mind that this was all a stupid idea.

"Paula asked me to show you where the others live," she said. "You ready?"

"I guess so."

She had expected him to say "You bet I am!" or, perhaps, "Bring them on, Baby, I'm hot to trot!" That he seemed just as ambivalent about all this as she did made him seem less threatening than he'd been a few minutes before.

It only took them seven minutes to drive to Melanie's house. There were three stoplights on the way, and they got all three on red. He was affable, and not at all upset that she'd cancelled on him, but in a way that didn't seem to reject her. He didn't just sit quietly and wait for her to tell him where to turn. He commented on how nice the campus looked, and he asked her about school. He said it was his first time in Manhattan, and said he had a sister in school there, and was going to visit her later. He just seemed like a regular guy.

But, as they parked, she realized that she either had to walk home or go in with him, in which case she'd be more or less trapped there. To her immense surprise, when he found out she was going to walk, he said he'd take her back to the sorority house.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"You shouldn't be penalized just because you changed your mind," he said.

What Tracie found exceedingly odd was that, in the six minutes it took him to stop in front of the sorority house, and let her out, she almost changed her mind again.

"Thanks," he said. His smile made her stomach feel funny.

"No problem," she said. "You're sure you can find it again?"

"No problem," he said, aping her previous response. He grinned.

It wasn't until he was gone that she gave serious thought to walking over to Melanie's after all. He was handsome. She wondered what it would be like, looking up into those blue eyes ... from underneath him ... while she was being made a woman.

Paula had planned on having Bobby from when he arrived, on the sixteenth, until the morning of St. Patrick's Day, on the seventeenth. She had some misty plans to turn him over to Tracie Thursday morning, and then take him to Melanie's when Tracie was taken care of. Melanie, Tiffany and Suzie would have him the rest of the day, and all that night, and everybody would be happy on Friday morning when he left. Paula had told Melanie about this time schedule, but hadn't said anything to Tracie, because Tracie lived just down the hall from her. She'd been about to go find Tracie when her parents showed up unexpectedly.

So his arrival at the house lived in by Melanie, Tiffany and Suzie was a day in advance of when it had been planned, and the girls were not ready for him.

For one thing, Melanie was still in her robe, and Tiffany was wearing a pair of sweat shorts and a sleeveless sweat shirt with holes in it. Neither had on makeup, and neither had done anything with their hair, other than pull it up into a makeshift pony tail. It was a lazy day. Suzie was gone, out jogging, something she did every day, and which neither other girl had any inclination to join her in, when there was a knock at the door.

Tiffany was closer, so she went to see who was there.

"Hi, I'm Bobby," said the man at the door.

Tiffany, who was five-five, looked up. She thought "lumberjack" for some reason.

"Who is it?" came Melanie's faint call from farther into the house.

"I don't know!" yelled Tiffany, over her shoulder.

"I'm Bobby," repeated the man. "Paula couldn't bring me. She had to go home."

It clicked in Tiffany's mind then. Paula had never actually told them the man's name who was to come and harvest all those cherries. She took a step back. He was huge!

A frazzled looking Melanie came into the room. She was wearing pink bunny slippers, with big, floppy ears on the toes, above buck-toothed faces.

"What?" she asked, looking past Tiffany at the dark bulk of a man, surrounded by what light was getting past him through the door.

"It's him!" gasped Tiffany.

"Who?" asked Melanie.

"Him!" squealed Tiffany.

Bobby looked at the two women. "Paula couldn't bring me," he said again. He didn't know what else to say.

"Oh!" It was Melanie's turn to gasp. She thought of how she was dressed. "Shit!"

"Is this a bad time?" asked Bobby. This wasn't at all what he'd expected. He'd thought about what this might be like dozens of times, but none of those scenarios had been remotely like this.

"It's not Thursday!" said Melanie.

"No," said Bobby. "It's Wednesday."

"But Paula said Thursday!" said Melanie.

"Oh," said Bobby, who was not privy to Paula's original plan. "You want me to come back tomorrow?"

This wasn't going at all like Melanie had dreamed it would go. She'd planned what to wear, and how to have her hair, and what makeup to use. She'd even gotten new perfume, just for this occasion. She stared at the bulk filling the doorway, and her knees got a little shaky. She knew instinctively that, if she sent him away, she would chicken out the next day. She was tired of chickening out. None of her plans worked out, but that was just too bad.

"No," she said. "We just weren't expecting you. Come in," she added.

He moved into the room and Tiffany stared at him, leaving the door open.

"Tiffany!" said Melanie, trying to take charge.

"Huh?" asked Tiffany, looking over.

"Door?"

"Oh." Tiffany closed the door.

Bobby examined the two women. They reminded him of his sisters, when they were younger. He smiled, because that made him feel a little bit less uncomfortable.

"Sorry about the mix-up," he said. "Paula went home to see her parents."

"You're kidding!" said Melanie, who sounded shocked. How could Paula just desert them like this?!"

"I gather it was a surprise for her too," said Bobby.

Melanie tried to deal with the situation, and fell back on routine, for lack of anything better. "I'm Melanie," she said. "This is Tiffany."

"Pleased to meet you both," said Bobby, almost formally. He winced in his mind, but it didn't show on his face. He felt like he wasn't handling this well at all. "I'm glad we can move things up." That was even worse, and he wished they had told him to come back tomorrow.

Melanie's reaction to his two comments was as mixed as the comments themselves. His formal greeting seemed odd, under the circumstances. His apparent eagerness to serve in his role as stud was much more in line with what she'd expected. That he was eager to be the stud, despite their ratty appearance, made her knees act up again.

"We should go get dressed," she yipped.

Again, Bobby saw the behavior of young, inexperienced women. Their innocence appealed to him, even if this crazy plan did not. They were worried about their appearance, not knowing that, if a man found them attractive, it didn't matter if they were fixed up or not. He'd seen his sisters with sleep wrinkles on their faces, and hair a mess, and had been impatient to mount them anyway. It wasn't how they looked that turned him on ... it was who they were. He tried to transfer that feeling to these two young women.

"If you want to," he said casually. "You both look fine just like you are, though."

"We do?" Tiffany looked down at her comfortable outfit. She realized that she wasn't wearing a bra, and that various holes in her sweatshirt might show things she wasn't used to showing to a man, to say nothing of the gaping armholes.

"You do," he confirmed.

Melanie felt the urge to shiver, though her body didn't do that. He sounded so sure of himself. That matched more with her fantasy, that this man would make her feel special, make her want to give him her virginity. She was distracted as he looked around.

"I thought there were three of you."

Melanie's opinion of him went up another notch. The idea that there were three women to please didn't bother him at all. He must be the stud that Paula claimed he was.

"Our roommate is out jogging," she said. "She'll be back in a while."

She expected him to say: "Doesn't matter. Who wants to go first?"

Instead he said: "Do you have anything to drink?"

The fact was that Bobby had no idea how to proceed. He'd never been in this situation before. With the possible exception of Tilly, he'd spent lots of time with all the women before things progressed to the point that sex was involved. Having just met these girls, he didn't know what to do next, other than try to get to know them a little bit.

Melanie's face looked blank for a second. "Um ... sure," she said. "What do you want?"

"Anything," he said. He looked around and chose to sit on one end of the couch. The other end was piled with the clothes Melanie had gathered up and intended to put in the washer.

Melanie picked up the clothes and hurried to the kitchen. She threw the clothes in the hamper in the utility room and looked in the fridge and see what was there. She saw one bottle of beer, way in the back, a carton of orange juice, and milk. She'd planned on getting wine that day, so they'd have it when he showed up the next day. She looked at her watch. It was eleven-ten. She grabbed the carton of orange juice and closed the door. She got a glass from the cupboard. There was enough OJ to mostly fill it.

She was turning to go deliver it when the back door opened and Suzie walked in, sweating from her run. Her ponytail was stuck to her neck, where the tank top she was wearing left the damp skin exposed.

"He's here!" whispered Melanie harshly.

"What?" asked Suzie. She'd come in from the alley. Had she run down the street, she'd have seen Bobby's car parked in front of the house, and had some warning.

"The guy!" rasped Melanie. "The one Paula got for us!"

"But it's not Thursday," said Suzie, almost exactly as Melanie herself had said it.

"Paula's parents apparently showed up and they took her home," said Melanie. "He just came here instead."

"Well tell him to come back tomorrow," said Suzie. She had planned on being 'unexpectedly busy' with something on St. Patrick's Day. She'd tried to get her boss to let her work, but couldn't explain why she didn't want to be home. He'd insisted she take the day off. She'd been trying to think of another excuse on her run that morning, but hadn't come up with anything that was sufficient to convince her roommates that she couldn't get out of it.

"I can't!" whispered Melanie. She wouldn't explain why she couldn't. Suzie was already too resistant to the whole idea, and Melanie needed Suzie to pitch in with the money. Her mind wandered for a few seconds, and she wondered if Paula would try to back out on her share.

"Why not?" asked Suzie.

"He doesn't have anyplace to stay!," said Melanie, improvising. She was proud of herself for thinking that up. Her purse was on the table and she went to it. She pulled out a twenty dollar bill and thrust it at Suzie. "Go get some wine," she said. "Get two bottles of that sweet kind that we all like."

"Melanie!" complained Suzie. "Can't he just stay in a motel or something?"

"Do you want to pay for that too?" asked Melanie, scathingly. "He's here! Let's just make the best of it. I have to fix something for lunch. Just go get the wine, okay?"

"Okay!" said Suzie, irritably. "You know I wasn't keen on all this from the beginning!"

"Come on, Suzie," said Melanie, suddenly wheedling. "He's gorgeous. You won't be sorry. Just go with the flow. By tomorrow we'll all be happy and you can go to med school and find a boyfriend, and not have to be scared any more. Please? Won't you at least do this for me and Tiff?"

"You are so lame," sighed Suzie.

"I am not," said Melanie. "I'm just horny. And now I get to do something about it. He's so cute, Suzie. I know you'll like him."

"He's a gigolo!" snapped Suzie.

"Well he's a nice one," said Melanie. "He even said we looked just fine like we are!"

Suzie looked at her friend, who was a mess, and shook her head.

"Sounds to me like he's as hard up as we are," she said. She giggled. "Okay. I'll go get the wine, but I'm getting three bottles. I have a feeling I'm going to need a whole bottle myself, just to get through this."

Melanie felt relief wash through her and dug into her purse again, pulling out another bill.

"Make it four," she said. "Just in case."

Melanie found Bobby and Tiffany deep in conversation. She could tell that Tiffany was already more relaxed. She was sitting on the other end of the couch, half facing Bobby. Tiffany was listing all the classes she was taking. Melanie handed Bobby the glass of OJ.

"I'm just going to get something ready for lunch," she said. "We can get started after that." She bit her lip. That sounded so stupid.

"Sounds good," said Bobby, flicking a look at her. Then his eyes went back to Tiffany. Melanie felt a little miffed that he hadn't paid more attention to her.

Tiffany felt a little like she must be dreaming. He seemed so interested in her! He wanted to hear all about her classes, and where she was from. He even asked her if she had any brothers or sisters, and what her father did for a living. His eyes didn't roam around the room. He kept them fastened on her. He looked mostly at her face, she noticed, but his eyes did flicker here and there. She could feel the cool air on her skin, coming through the holes in her shirt. She kept herself from looking down. She knew there was one hole in the front of her shirt that might show part of her right breast, if it was positioned just right, but she didn't want to draw attention to it.

Then, to her surprise, he told her a little about himself. He said he'd grown up on a farm, and had sisters. She said their other roommate - the one out jogging - had grown up on a farm too, and wasn't that interesting?

He asked her if she had a boyfriend, which she thought was odd, seeing as what he was there to do, but she went with the flow and somehow found herself explaining Melanie's philosophy about not trying too hard to find a long term relationship until you had enough ... experience ... to make that less threatening.

"I can understand that," he said. "In fact, I know several women who felt the same way."

His veiled reference to "other women" made Tiffany's stomach flutter. She knew about Paula, of course, but he sounded so self confident ... so experienced. For the first time since Melanie had come up with this weird scheme, Tiffany thought that maybe ... just maybe ... it might not be so bad.

Melanie hoped chili-mac would be all right. It was all she could come up with on short notice. She opened a can of green beans too. It would be stretching it to feed four, but she didn't want to do this on a full stomach anyway. She could hear Tiffany and him talking. She wondered what they were talking about. What did you talk to a gigolo about?

Suzie came in the back door with the wine just in time to put it in the fridge and help set the table.

"Where's Tiffany?" she asked, as she got out plates.

"She's in there keeping him busy," said Melanie.

"What?!" gasped Suzie. "Already?!"

"Not that way!" said Melanie. She felt the urge to giggle, but knew if she did she'd lose it, so clamped down. "She's just talking to him."

"Oh," said Suzie, looking toward the living room curiously. "You know we don't have enough wine glasses."

"Give him his in the beer glass," said Melanie. "He's a guy. He probably won't even notice." She checked the skillet, and then the beans. The chili-mac was ready, but the beans weren't steaming yet. "In fact, go ahead and take him some now."

"Tiffany too?" asked Suzie.

"Yes ... and me too," said Melanie. She was getting more nervous, instead of less, as time went on. "Talk to him for a while, so Tiff can go change clothes. Tell her to come in here when she's changed so I can do the same thing."

"What about me?" asked Suzie.

Melanie looked at her friend. Suzie was slim and fit. She always looked that way, no matter what she was wearing.

"You're fine," she said. "Guys like athletic girls."

Suzie agreed with that assessment, actually. She was quite aware that men stared at her as she jogged. It was one of the things she'd had to get used to when she went to college. Boys back home hadn't paid much attention to her. When men at college did, it affected the way she thought about herself. The guys in the lab flirted with her too, sometimes. She ignored that, as far as responding on the outside, and none of them had pushed it, but it made her feel good, somehow.

"If you say so," she said. "I'm all sweaty, though."

"Guys probably like that too," said Melanie, absently.

Suzie got out the cork screw and struggled to get the cork out. It popped loose and she poured some in the three wine glasses they had, and the beer glass that had been left at the house after some party in the distant past. She handed a wine glass to Melanie, who drained half of it in one gulp. She sipped from her own and put it on the table where she intended to sit during lunch.

Then she took the other two glasses and went to meet the mysterious man who, if she couldn't think of a way out of it, might change her body in ways she wasn't at all sure she was ready for.

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