The Making of a Gigolo (15) - Agatha Roberts

by Lubrican

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Chapter Nine

Bobby got home late. Nobody was up, so he went straight to bed. He was upset with himself. He hadn't meant for things to go that far with Agatha. It had been too much too fast. He knew she had loved it while it was happening, but that didn't mean she would love it after the fact. He had given her the ammunition she had originally been after. She could honestly say she'd been seduced ... that he'd had his way with her.

There wasn't anything he could do about it now. Her lack of experience had driven him to show her what it could be like ... to teach her once and for all that there was something for a woman like her to look forward to. He'd just taken it much too fast.

It couldn't be helped now. It didn't stop him from sleeping either.

He was awakened by the twins, who crawled into bed with him naked. They were not gentle in waking him up.

"Wake up!" said Matilda. There was a hand playing with his penis.

"What?" he groused. He was still sleepy.

"It's October the first!" said Betty, into his ear. She licked it after she talked into it and his hand came up to brush her face away like it was a fly.

"So?"

"It's October the first!" said Matilda, too loudly.

He tried to clear his mind. Obviously they weren't going away.

"Okay, it's October the first," he said, opening his eyes. "Happy October."

"It's been six weeks!" said Betty, her voice disgusted.

"And we've been on the pill for a month," cooed Matilda.

He got it then. They didn't have to work that day.

He didn't make it out of bed until noon.

The twins had built up a lot of reserve passion. On that first day they could engage in amorous activities again after giving birth, they let Bobby take a nap in the afternoon. Then they dragged him to their room that night, where he slept ... occasionally ... between them.

They were pragmatic women. Both produced more milk than their babies could consume and they'd been using Bobby as a means to empty them sometimes. Now, whenever one of them had to get up to feed a baby in the middle of the night, she returned to bed to empty herself of one white milky liquid, only to have it replaced, albeit in another part of her body, with another.

It was, in fact, their passion and hunger to be filled that drove Bobby out of the house the next morning. He wasn't sure he could take another day with the twins.

He made the rounds of his children, since there wasn't much work to do just then, and stopped by the ready-mix lot to talk to Brad Wildress about pouring a floor in the barn. It was a bit more expensive than he'd thought it would be, but it was necessary if they were going to move forward with the barn project. While Brad used the clunky old calculator to do the figures, Bobby wondered what he might be getting himself into by moving into the barn with the twins. They'd been so horny the previous day that they'd chanced getting caught by their mother. Once they were all living in the barn, that wouldn't be an issue any more.

It was late when he decided he had to bite the bullet, possibly, and stop by Agatha's house. He was well aware that a woman's reactions during good sex didn't necessarily translate into happiness later, when emotions cooled. But he couldn't just stay away. If she was all right with what had happened, he needed to be there for her. The same was true if she wasn't.

There was movement at the curtains after he rang the bell, though the porch light didn't come on. The door opened and she stood there in her robe.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

As answer, she just stood back and opened the door wider.

She didn't attack him when he stepped inside and the door was closed ... in either sense.

"I just wanted to check on you," he said.

"That's what you said the other night," she said softly. "Is that why you're here again?" She was looking down.

"Not like then," he said. "I really just want to see if you're okay." He was having a tough time judging her mood.

"Oh," she said.

"I didn't mean for that much to happen."

"Yes you did." Her voice was more firm. "You even told me that's what you'd do."

"I didn't plan that," he insisted. "When you asked me what it might be like, I just told you what I was thinking. I didn't actually think it would ever happen."

"It did," she said, still not looking at his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Why won't you look at me?" he asked.

She looked up, blushing. He saw it in her face immediately. Somehow she'd known her emotions would show ... that he'd be able to see the desire there.

"Oh," he sighed. "You really are okay." There was relief in his voice.

"Only in the sense that I'm not at all sorry any of that happened," she said, licking her lips. "You know you ruined me."

"I did?"

"Now that I know what it can be like ... I'll never be able to go without that in my life, Bobby."

"There'as no reason you can't have it. You can have that any time you want to," he said.

"With you," she said. "Only with you, here in Granger. But you won't always be there. If I move away I'm going to have to find a man. Before it was just a dream. Now it's a necessity. And if I stay here, someone will see you coming here, sooner or later. I wanted to call you all day long, Bobby!"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No you're not," she said, her voice husky. "I wasn't the only one who loved what we did. I would have had to be blind and deaf to think that. I never knew anything could be like that."

"I don't know whether to be glad for you or not," he said.

"How long can you stay?" she asked. Her fingers went to the tie of her robe.

"How long do you need me?" he countered.

"I have no idea," she said. "You'll have to wake me up and ask me if you can leave."

He grinned. She might be slow to start, but once she was running she purred like a kitten.

While she flushed bright red, Bobby taught her to masturbate. She didn't question anything he did now. Then he taught her how to let a man masturbate her. He gave her a massage and brought her off that way. He didn't mount her until she was relaxed from five or six orgasms, had over a space of two hours.

"I want to go slowly tonight," he said.

"I've had more orgasms in the last two hours than I had in the last five years before the other night," she sighed. "And you call that going slow?"

"I don't know this for a fact, but I suspect most men will want to be inside you within thirty minutes," he said. "You have to know how to get them to go slowly too. You may have to be very assertive to get them to do what you want."

"I would have let you make love to me the minute you came in the door," she sighed, as he sucked at her nipples.

"That's fine," he said. "But going slow is fun too."

He showed her how, by bringing her close with his lips and fingers, but denying her the orgasm her hips arched to get. Then he teased her with the tip of his prick, first rubbing her sex with it and then penetrating her only a little, until she was writhing under him.

"This is torture!" she moaned, reaching for his hips with her fingers.

"You want this?" he asked, sliding all the way in, in one smooth, slow lunge.

"Ohhhhh yesss," she hissed, her eyes going half closed.

"Do you remember me doing that before?" he asked.

"Nooooo," she whispered.

"That's because we were both too excited," he said, beginning to breathe more deeply.

"I feel it now," she said, panting herself.

"Now this," he said, going deep and rotating his loins.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned. "That's sooooo gooood."

He let her have an orgasm and told her to tell him all about it. She didn't scream this time. Her eyes got wider and wider as she told him it was almost there, then grunted in time with the muscles of her pussy as it squeezed him repeatedly.

"Ohhh that was good," she panted when it was over. "I can't believe I missed years and years of this."

"When was your last period?" he panted.

"I don't know," she moaned. "I can't think right now."

"I came in you last time," he panted. "I shouldn't have done that. You could get pregnant. I'll take it out tonight, when I cum."

"I can't get pregnant," she panted, thrusting her pussy up at him as she said "get."

What Agatha Roberts was thinking about just then - as well as she could think as another orgasm rushed towards her - was that she and Harry had done this ... no ... not this. What they had done for five years was some pitiful attempt at thinking about doing this, maybe. Once a week, sometimes twice, he had climbed on top of her and deposited his seed in her. In all that time she'd never gotten pregnant and he had told her it was her fault. So had her mother. And she had believed them.

"Ohhhh Aggie, I'm so sorry," he moaned, thrusting faster.

"Don't stop!" she whined, unable to think about anything but what was beginning to wash through her loins. The sweet streaks of pure bliss began to spread and then burst, sending jagged, brilliant lightning bolts of ecstasy throughout her body.

She did scream this time and her voice broke as vocal chords that hadn't recovered yet complained.

She only felt better as his wet heat exploded in her belly.

They rested in each other's arms, trading kisses, and then started all over again.

October, 1976 was a month that Agatha would always remember. She would remember it because it was the month she began exploring possibilities that she'd never thought of before.

She had three brothers, all older. They had as little use for her parents as she did and all had moved far enough away that no one could expect them to visit frequently. The closest, Archie, lived in Ohio, where he had his own pest control business. He was also the brother she was closest to emotionally, since there was only a year and a half difference in their ages.

It was only natural that she call him and confide that she was thinking of moving away from Granger. As they talked, and she expressed doubts about what kind of work she could do, he said he needed a bookkeeper and could teach her what she would need to know to do the job.

"You can live with us for a while," he said, "until you find a place of your own."

Just that easily she had an option to leave.

Another reason she would remember October of that year was because Bobby Dalton came to see her as often as she wanted him to. She wouldn't fully understand it until years later, but sensed that he cared about her ... for her ... in a way no other man ever had. When he still took her bowling, or on a hike, or to an art show, sometimes after that they made love, and sometimes they didn't. She wanted sex all the time ... had become addicted to it, like someone who never tasted ice cream until they were grown. But Bobby didn't make their relationship solely about sex. He spent time with her and talked to her.

She put her house up for sale. The realtor said the market was slow and she'd have to be patient. She couldn't be patient. Her new life beckoned. She was torn, because that would mean leaving the man who made her feel so fantastic. But he had convinced her there were other men who would care about her as much as he did.

And her brother insisted that she could stay with him and his wife, for as long as it took to sell the house and find another in Camden.

It was the middle of November when the final preparations were made. The logistics of this real estate business were complicated. She had no place to put her belongings, until she had a new house. She couldn't get a new house until the old one sold. The moving company could store her things, but that needed to be as short a time span as possible, because it got expensive once it went past the two months they'd store it for free, which was included in the moving contract.

It was Mirriam and Prudence who solved the problem by being willing to be her agents when the house sold. She had a power of attorney prepared, giving them the authority to deal with the moving company. She'd have to come back to Granger to sign the sale papers, whenever that happened, but they could take care of the rest.

Her brother wanted her in Ohio for Thanksgiving. She picked the twentieth of November, a Saturday, to leave. That was because Bobby had the night of the nineteenth free and could spend one last night with her.

She would remember that night for years to come too, even though she would meet a man named Jim only six months after getting to Ohio. He would show an interest in her she could not ignore and she would feel something for him she had felt for no other man. Even so, she would remember Bobby Dalton and what they did that last night.

She had resisted Bobby's efforts to introduce her to oral sex ... performed on him, of course ... for most of October. While she was completely comfortable with his mouth between her legs and she delighted in fisting his prick until it spurted and got her hand all messy, she couldn't help but shudder at the thought of putting her mouth on that prick.

A night of dancing and four whiskey sours had overcome her reluctance and, just as it had been with everything else Bobby had exposed her to, she fell in love with sucking cock.

She sucked his cock one last time, that night, on the nineteenth of November, but instead of tasting his spunk, she settled her pussy around his prick as it spurted. In all, he spurted in her silky depths five times that night.

But the biggest reason she would always remember that night was because of something else she learned. She learned that it wasn't her fault that she and Harry had produced no children.

That's because Bobby Dalton's sperm had no problem at all making a baby in her, once her egg was within reach of those sperm.

Of course she wouldn't know that until much later, while she was living with her baby brother and his wonderful wife, Michelle.

Another woman would remember the waning days of November and all of December that year. Erica Bradford had seen hundreds, perhaps thousands of pregnant women in her life. She had noticed they were pregnant, in the way some people notice a woman has fiery red hair. It didn't mean anything in particular to her ... she just noticed it.

All that had changed now that she was eight months pregnant herself. She spent an inordinate amount of time standing naked in front of the mirror. Short to begin with, she had always felt top heavy because of her huge breasts. She had hated them until her involvement with Bobby taught her to love what they made her feel. Now, as she stared into the mirror, she decided her involvement with Bobby had made her look like a flesh colored ball. She felt like she was as wide as she was tall, when she stood sideways.

She watched as an elbow, or maybe a heel, made a raised strip of skin appear and disappear across her belly. Her baby was a very active thing, moving a lot. She'd noticed that there was more movement when music was playing in the room she was in. It didn't matter what kind of music. She'd taken to playing music at home, in her bedroom, where she could lie back naked on the bed and do what she thought of as playing with her daughter.

Both Will and Bobby were enamored with her bulging belly. She thought that was funny. Both men spent hours rubbing their hands over it and talking to the little human inside. She thought it was interesting that both men spoke in almost identical ways to the unborn child.

With Will it was usually something like: "Hi, pumpkin. I'm your Uncle Will. I bet you're beautiful. I love you."

When Bobby spoke it was, "Hi, gorgeous. I'm your daddy and I'm already proud of you. I can't wait to hold you."

She would never have thought her brother and her lover were similar to each other, but she saw those similarities more and more as time passed.

Another of them was that both men were also in love with, and talked to, her breasts. Will called them "girls," while Bobby addressed them as "ladies." Will couldn't suck them properly, but his right hand was a master at squeezing them just hard enough to reduce Erica to jelly. Bobby spent more time sucking and nipping her nipples than squeezing them and the orgasms he gave her were sharper and hotter. Sometimes she felt like Bobby was trying to eat them.

Those nipples, already thick and long, had broadened even more as her pregnancy progressed. They had also gone from pink to a dusky almost-purple. They were as big around as her thumb, now, and she was almost afraid they wouldn't fit in her daughter's mouth when the time came. Her areolas had gotten much larger as well and were now about three and a half inches across.

She heard the front door open. That she was stark naked didn't bother her. She knew who it was. She waited, running her hands over her belly.

Bobby stuck his head in the door.

"There you are," he said, smiling.

"I hate you," she said, her voice low.

"No you don't," he said.

"Look what you did to me."

"I thought you women's libber types believed that looks shouldn't matter," he said.

"I look like a beach ball," she said.

"You've never been more beautiful."

"I have to pee every thirty minutes," she complained. "My ankles look like tree stumps. My back hurts all the time."

"Only saplings." He grinned.

She tried to glare at him, but felt the hunger instead.

"Why are you here?" she grumbled.

"I'm here because you wanted me to come make you feel better," he said. He started unbuttoning his shirt.

She threw back the covers on the bed and arranged herself on her back. The baby didn't like that very much sometimes, but didn't seem to complain this time. It felt good to be lying down, because the ache in her back eased. She brought her fingers to her nipples and began squeezing them lightly and repeatedly while he got naked.

He started, predictably, by stroking her belly and saying hello to his daughter.

"I'm going to make love to your mommy now," he said. "You be a good girl and maybe she'll share some of those good feelings with you."

"Ohhhh I just love that," Erica moaned as he slurped at her pussy lips and sucked at her clit. She'd already had one orgasm, bringing it on as quickly as possible after he started eating her pussy. She could manufacture an orgasm at will by manipulating her nipples.

He crawled over her, letting his belly rub against hers, and sucked her nipples until she groaned through another one. He let the tip of his prick enter her pussy lips, but not far. It was uncomfortable now and he only really teased her with a couple of inches, rather than truly fucking her.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I'm always ready," she panted.

He got off the bed and stood by her shoulder, stroking his prick. She licked her lips while she watched, anticipating what would happen.

She rolled, with some difficulty, so that his tightly gripped prick could deliver oozing globs of sperm to each nipple, as he groaned at preventing a full ejaculation. Then, while she used her fingers to stroke her now slippery nipples, masturbating them like tiny penises, she turned her head and opened her mouth for him to unleash the rest of his cum there. He knew to slide one of his hands between her legs to stroke her clit while she came.

Her orgasm, as she sucked his knob and played with her nipples, made her arch on the bed, shoving their baby up into the air as if she were trying to show the whole world her pride and joy.

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