The Making of a Gigolo (5) - Jill Trimble
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Bobby got up from his nap two hours later, when a gaggle of girls stampeded past his room, one of them thumping into his door. He put on the same shorts and T shirt he'd worn when his mother had awakened him, and left the room, to see what was expected of him.
There was cooking going on in the kitchen. A big pot of corn on the cob was boiling, and Prudence was frying chicken, while Mirriam got a ham ready to put in the oven.
"Smells good already," said Bobby.
"Good, you're here," said Mirriam, smiling at him. "Prudence and Constance are staying. We're going to need more chairs, and she has some at the house. I want you to run her over there and bring them back. She doesn't need to be carrying chairs in her condition."
"I told you, I'm fine!" said Prudence.
"Go on," ordered Mirriam, waving a carving fork their way. "And don't dilly dally. This all has to be ready in two hours."
Prudence scooted over, to sit beside Bobby in the pickup. She took his arm.
"I thought we weren't supposed to dilly dally," he said, putting his hand on her thigh.
"I'm not," she said, her voice wounded.
"That," he said, pushing his arm into the breast she was pressing against it, "is definitely dillying, and this," he slid his hand up her leg until he couldn't go any farther, and she hissed … "is definitely dallying."
"It won’t take long," she sighed, scooting down into his hand.
They got the chairs to the front door, before she couldn't wait any longer, and dragged him to the bedroom. Once she was naked, and firmly impaled on his prick, she wiggled her hips furiously.
"I love this so much," she moaned. She looked down. "Your mother says you do this with other women too."
"I don't talk about that," he said. "It isn't fair to anyone."
"Why don't I care?" she groaned, as a climax washed over her.
"Because, when I'm with you, I only think about you," he said, pulling at her nipples, to enhance her orgasm.
"We're not done until you squirt in me," she gasped, beginning to rock again.
"That's fine with me," he grinned, pulling her down to suck at what he had just pulled.
"I love this so much," she groaned.
The picnic went well, perhaps more so because there were people outside the family there too. Mirriam had gotten surprisingly fond of Prudence, who was almost girlishly thankful that she had a new friend. Further, the girls had all but adopted Constance, who basked in their attention. Bobby's situation was a little different. That Constance adored him was plain to all the girls. She flirted with him frequently. Mary was old enough to mask her own adoration. Bev paid a lot of attention to him, but was pretty good at making it look like she was just helping with whatever he was doing. Flo was conflicted. She really liked Constance, and the fact that Constance had a crush on Bobby did not escape her. She had been watching Bobby and Bev ever since that night in the pickup truck but, other than what she thought she saw in their eyes, they hadn't done anything weird.
The younger girls, who, for years, had treated Bobby as any girl treats her big brother, had recently fallen victim to his age and freedom, and their attitudes toward him now resulted in them seeing him as something of a father figure. They vied for his approval, and delighted in any praise he gave them. Flo had seen all of that too.
During the picnic, she watched as Bobby took off his shirt in the shade, to turn the crank on the ice cream freezer. At seventeen, she was plenty interested in boys, in general, but there were none at school that captured her particular attention. There were a few she looked at longer than the others, but they all had girlfriends. Looking at Bobby now, she compared him, for the first time, to other boys she knew. She was both amused, and disgusted to arrive at the conclusion that her brother was head and shoulders above the rest. He was just as handsome, twice as strong, and almost never made fun of her, or teased her anymore.
That kiss had been eating at her. Why had he kissed her like that? It had been a kiss like she'd expect from a boy ... not her brother. And Bev's hand … right there in his lap! Mary had told her, the next morning, that nothing was happening that Bev didn't want to happen ... that Bev was exploring, experimenting with Bobby, instead of boys from school, because she could trust him and he wouldn't do anything she didn't want him to do. "You don't need to be worried about Bobby. He would never hurt any of us or allow us to get hurt. He loves us. That's all you need to know," Mary had finished.
She'd thought about that for days. Did Bev want to know what it felt like to put her hand in a boy's lap? Of course she did. Flo wondered what that would feel like too. Had Bev kissed Bobby, like he had kissed her? What else had she "experimented" with? And how did Mary know all about it? She couldn't believe that Mary had said that, when Flo was ready, if she was ever ready, she could go to Bobby too! Flo thought about that a lot too. She'd been mildly interested in Joey Stevens for about a month. There had been something about him that made her want to touch him. He'd been friendly to her too, and she let him kiss her once. But he'd picked another girl to ask out, and Flo had backed off, disappointed, but also glad, somehow.
She hadn't said anything to either Bev or Bobby, and they had both acted like nothing had happened. Bobby had even said it was nothing. How could that be nothing? The kiss, short as it had been, had been disturbing. That certainly hadn't been "nothing". Not to her.
Bev left Bobby, at Mary's call. Mary was freaking about the wedding, and kept thinking up something else every other minute that had to be resolved instantly. Flo couldn't imagine wanting to get married, but she had already decided that, if she ever did, it was going to be very simple. She'd stand in front of the preacher and say "I do" and whoever the groom was would say "I do" and that would be it. If they had to get married in jeans, that was fine, but there was no way she was going to go completely crazy, like Mary had. She watched Bobby's muscles move, as he cranked the ice cream. On impulse, she walked over.
"Need some help?" she asked.
"Don't know if you could turn it or not," he said.
That was the kind of thing she'd been thinking about it. Any other man would have said, "You're too weak to turn this," but Bobby didn't assume that.
"Why did you kiss me?" she asked. She didn't think she needed to specify which kiss she was talking about.
"You were upset," he said softly. "I didn't want you to do anything that you'd be sorry for later."
"Why would I be sorry for anything?" she asked.
"Because you love Bev, and you love me, and you would be sad, eventually, if you made trouble for either of us."
"Are you guys doing it, or something?" she asked.
He looked at her. "Doing it?"
"You know what I mean," she said. "Christy Bellows got drunk one night on spiked punch. She said she and Charley do it sometimes." Charley was Christy's brother, though he was a year younger than Christy.
"And you believed her?" asked Bobby.
"Yes," said Flo. "She kind of described it in detail. I've heard of other kids messing around with their brother or sister."
"No, we're not ... doing it," said Bobby.
"Why did she have her hand on your cock?" asked Flo.
"When did you start talking with a gutter mouth?" he asked.
"Don't give me that crap, Bobby. Cock, penis, prick, whatever you want to call it ... she had her hand on yours."
"Why do you want to know this?" he asked, his arm steadily cranking.
"I don't know," she said. "It makes me nervous, thinking about it." She frowned. "If you're doing stuff, I mean."
"Why would you be nervous?" he asked.
"I've kissed exactly one guy," she said, folding her arms under her breasts. Flo was smaller than either Bev or Mary. She was a tomboy, and had the shape to go with it. "When you kissed me, it was better than it was with him. That's just weird."
"He didn't love you," said Bobby. "I do. It makes a difference."
"She's younger than I am," said Flo, ignoring his comment, even though it had sent a zing of emotion through her. "How come she gets to do stuff, and I don't?"
"Do you want to?"
"No, but it's not fair anyway."
"Why do you even care what Bev does?"
"I'm her big sister," said Flo. "I have to watch out for her."
"Then I think you should ask her if I've done anything that makes her nervous, or afraid, or worried, or in any way that might cause her pain."
"That's a bullshit answer," she said.
"You'd better be careful," he warned, stopping the crank. "If Mamma hears you talking like that, she'll wash your mouth out with soap."
"She would not!" said Flo, feeling suddenly like she was ten again.
"And I'd hold you down while she did it," said Bobby.
"Why won't you just tell me?" she moaned.
He stopped cranking and looked at her. "Let me ask you a question," he said. "How would you feel, if I told, say Horace, that I kissed you?"
"I'd die of embarrassment!" she wailed.
"Then why are you asking me to talk about Bev?"
"So you're not going to tell me what you two do?"
"Nope," he said. "Ask Bev. If she wants to tell you, that's fine. If not, it's between her and me."
"Are you going to kiss me again?" She blinked. Where had that come from? She hadn't intended to ask him that.
"If you want me to," he said calmly. He started cranking again.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard you say!" she whined. "Why on Earth would I want you to kiss me like that again?"
"There isn't anybody in the whole wide world that can answer that question except you," he said. He grinned.
She fumed for a minute.
"Did you like it?" she asked.
"Yes ... did you like it?" She seemed very interested in his answer.
"I already told you ... I love you. I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't love you."
"But you're my brother!"
"I'm your half brother," he said. "You know that."
She looked around, a horrified look on her face. "We don't talk about that stuff!"
"But you know it," he said.
"You'll always be my brother," she said stiffly.
"And I'll always love you, whether I ever kiss you like that again, or not," he said. "You want to try this now?"
He stepped away from the churn, and she moved to grasp the handle. She gave a lurch. The crank wouldn't budge. Her eyes widened. He had just been turning it ... round and round! She tried again. She got it to move half a crank, before giving up.
"Think about this, before you spout any more dirty words out of those pretty, soft lips of yours," he said.
He leaned over and started turning the crank again. She watched his muscles bunch, and felt flutters in her stomach.
"I can hold you down, while Mamma washes your mouth out with soap." He grinned.
She stalked away, trying to be mad at him. It didn't work, though. Just like always, he had treated her like an adult, instead of a little sister. True, he hadn't answered all her questions, but even that, she couldn't really argue with. She'd heard boys boasting about what they'd done with certain girls. That was one of the reasons she never did anything with any of them. They had big mouths.
Prudence and Mirriam sat in lawn chairs, in the shade of the elm tree and watched, as the young ones played, ran, or shot off firecrackers.
"Your children are so well behaved," said Prudence.
"You don't see them all the time," snorted Mirriam.
"Yes, but what girl just stands and talks to her big brother, like Florence was just doing? Most girls don't want to have anything to do with their brothers."
Mirriam nodded. "They didn't either, until he left school. He's grown up so much. I'm really lucky he's still living here. He does a lot of work."
"I could watch him crank ice cream all day long," sighed Prudence, watching his muscles work.
"I could too," sighed Mirriam. She blinked, and looked at Prudence, who was grinning at her. "I didn't mean it that way!" she spluttered.
"Yes you did," said Prudence, still grinning. "And don't deny it. He's gorgeous, and any woman would see it, even his mother." She giggled. "Besides, I don't feel as guilty when I know that another woman twice his age gets all googly eyed over him."
"I am not twice his age!" said Mirriam, trying to sound stiff.
"You'd feel like it after he got through with you," laughed Prudence.
"Prudence Harris!" gasped Mirriam. "I am shocked!"
Prudence saw the flush of pink under Mirriam's chin and leaned toward her, lowering her voice.
"He can go for an hour, if you let him."
"I will not listen to this!" moaned Mirriam.
"One day we did it four times in less than three hours," giggled Prudence.
Mirriam covered her face with her hands.
"Why are you doing this to meeee?" she moaned.
"Because next Saturday, we're going swimming with a nice man, who is interested in you. I think you should skinny dip, and have some fun."
Mirriam's hands came down and she snapped a look at her friend.
"I'll do no such thing!" she barked.
"You will if I get you horny enough," laughed Prudence.
"Stop talking like that! You sound like a hussy!" Mirriam's voice trembled.
"Mirriam, I went for twelve years without a man because I felt guilty for Harry's death. Then Bobby came along, and I found out that not only had I missed twelve years of joy, Harry wasn't all that good in bed after all. Your son is the best thing that ever happened to me, except for Constance. Now, I know you can't have him, because he's your son, but for pity's sake, Mirriam, if he gets you going, like he gets everybody else going, use that with somebody like Ted."
"He's interested in you," said Mirriam, staring at Bobby.
"He's interested in babies," said Prudence, talking about Ted.
"I don't want to have any more babies!" moaned Mirriam.
"That's what I thought too," said Prudence, stroking her belly. "Now, I couldn't be happier that I'm going to have another one."
Bobby, still shirtless, brought the ice cream canister over to the table, where his mother and lover were sitting. He was descended upon by girls, eager for a taste of the sweet treat. Prudence took up the scoop and began serving them. Bobby sat down by his mother, in the chair Prudence had been sitting in.
"Put on a shirt, before you scare the girls," said Mirriam.
"I wouldn't scare anybody," he laughed. "Well, with the possible exception of Arthur Thompson." He grinned, as his mother shot him a look. "I had to convince him to stop drinking, and I guess that involved what some people might view as threats."
Mirriam goggled. "You're the one who got him to stop?!"
"Martha deserved better than he was giving her," said Bobby simply.
Mirriam closed her eyes. "Bobby? Is Andrew my grandson?"
"Yes, Ma'am," said Bobby softly.
"Bobby?" she said quietly.
"If I ever ask you a question like that again, please tell me it's none of my business."
"Yes, Ma'am," he said.
"Oh!" she yipped, watching Matilda eating ice cream. "I completely forgot about the cake!"
She jumped up, and Bobby got up too.
"I'll go with you to get it," he said.
"I can do it myself," she replied.
"I know," he said.
"Could you at least put on a shirt?"
"Mamma, I'm going to be with you."
"I know that," she moaned. "That's why I want you to put on a shirt!"
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, when they got into the house.
"I have thoughts about my own son! That's what's wrong!" she barked.
"I already told you how I feel about you, Mamma," he said.
"I know that!" she snapped. "And then I make friends with Prudence, and the evidence of your manhood stares me in the face while I'm measuring you. I find out my daughter saw you making love to a woman, and I'm quite sure there are four of my grandchildren out there who I'll never get to hold and cuddle. How much can a woman take?!" She turned her back to him, tears in her eyes. "I'm not supposed to want my own son, like this! And he's not supposed to want me!"
Bobby didn't hesitate. He walked up behind her and put his arms around her, his hands on the belly he'd grown in. She stiffened in his arms, but he held her tight.
"I can't help what I feel for you," he said softly. "I don't want to, because I don't think it hurts a single person for me to love you. And however you feel about things is how you feel, and I won't complain about that, no matter what you decide to do."
"I can't go on like this," she moaned. "I can't go on wanting you like a man. I feel like I'm going to explode!"
"We don't have to make love," he whispered. "I can give you pleasure without doing that." He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, and felt for her nipples through her bra.
"We can't!" she gasped. Her hands rose to push his away, but, somehow, landed on top of them, holding them to her breasts.
"Sure we can," he said. "You need to feel better. I can help you."
She turned in his arms by force of will, intending to berate him ... stop him ... discipline him. Instead she fell into the trap of his kiss, and her body betrayed her, just like it always had with Joe. The need was so strong that it trampled even the decorum of a mother, resisting the lure of her son.
It was lucky she was wearing a dress, simply because that gave his hand easy access to her panties, which were no barrier at all. He slid a thick finger into her pussy before she had even registered the feel of his hand on her abdomen, and her knees failed her, letting most of her body weight fall on that finger. His other hand slapped to her butt, grasping her butt cheek and holding her, while his finger probed deep, and his kiss sucked the breath from her.
Mirriam had a hot box. She could cum at the drop of a hat, but a hat had to be dropped. She'd never been a woman who wanted to play with herself, which is one reason, perhaps, that she was so overwhelmingly horny at this point in time. That may have been lucky too, because she came almost immediately as his finger slid deep inside her. That one rolled over into an encore, as he wagged his finger, as best he could with her whole weight on it, in her pussy. By the time he broke the kiss, she'd cum three times in a row, and was so startled by it all that she just let the feelings flow over her.
He kissed her again, pulling his hand from her panties, and turning her to press her front against his. This kiss she returned, as things began catching up to her outpaced brain. She was still rattled, still shocked, and still off balance ... but she did feel much better. She thanked him with her lips, because she knew, even then, that she would never be able to thank him with words.
The whirlwind continued as he stopped kissing her, let her go, picked up the cake, and said, "They'll be wondering where we are."
She actually stumbled, following him, and felt light-headed all the way to the tree, where she sank back down into her chair, still feeling the after-effects of those three ambush orgasms.
She had just caught her breath when Prudence sat down beside her. Bobby was handing out big pieces of cake.
"What in the world happened to you?" asked Prudence, concern on her face. "You look like you just saw a ghost!"
"Bobby happened," sighed Mirriam. She looked at her friend and her eyes fluttered. "He touched me."
"Just now? In the house?" Prudence's eyes were wide.
"Yes," moaned Mirriam. "It was awful!" She blinked. "It was wonderful," she sighed. "I still feel it."
Prudence realized that, whatever had happened, it had been something quick and simple. Mirriam seemed more relaxed, though, and she wasn't in the throes of remorse or regret. That might come, but it wasn't there so far.
"That's nothing," she said, patting Mirriam's hand. "He's good at that, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. You have no idea what that man can do to a woman."
"I can't let him do that." Mirriam's voice was soft and dreamy.
"I know," said Prudence. "But you can let Ted do that ... on the picnic."
The following week was a roller coaster for the Dalton clan as Mary went through all the stress of making final wedding plans. Her guest list wasn't all that long and, in fact, more of the groom's family was attending than hers. Still, she wanted everything to be perfect, as young brides often do, and the pace she drove herself at caused a great deal of stress.
She sought relief from that stress with Bobby. Not only did she go to him to repeat what they had done that one time, she went to him nightly.
And, so great was her need, that when she climbed on top of him Monday night, the fact that Bev was with her didn't even slow her down. She did rub on his long, hard prick, like she had so many times before, but only for a minute or less. Then, as if she'd done it a hundred times before, she put her hand on the tip of his prick, pulled it into her opening, and slid backwards with a groan, as it slithered up in her completely.
Bev didn't even realize what was going on, at first. She was stroking her own clit, getting herself ready for her turn. It wasn't until Mary sat straight up, and there was no penis in front of her, that Bev's disbelieving eyes darted here and there. She got on her hands and knees and peered up under her sister's butt, about the time Mary lay down on Bobby, to kiss him while his prick in her pussy gave her a long, almost painful orgasm as it punished her cervix.
"He's in you!" gasped Bev, much too loudly.
"Shhhhh," cautioned Bobby, who was humping up into Mary as her pussy rippled around his prick.
"But ... you're ... fucking!" whispered Bev, astonishment clear in her whisper.
"I know that," panted Bobby.
"Awwwwwww," whined Mary, her hips twitching rapidly as she rubbed her clit against his pubic bone.
"But ... you've never done that before!" yipped Bev, watching her sister's stretched hole clasping Bobby's thick prick.
"It sort of happened the other day," panted Bobby.
Mary fell limp, and kissed Bobby's chest and shoulder.
"I needed that so much," she panted. Her head turned to her sister, but all she could see was Bev's naked buttocks.
Mary rolled away from Bev, who watched Bobby's still stiff prick slide out of her sister's pussy. She couldn't believe it had all fit up inside there, where just a finger filled her own pussy completely. Mary went to her knees on the floor, and looked past Bobby's shiny prick at her sister's face.
"You can't tell anybody," Mary whispered. "I was going crazy. I had to."
"I won't tell," said Bev, her wide eyes staring at the penis that had been stuffed up in her sister only moments before.
"You want to cum now?" asked Bobby, looking at Bev.
"I don't know," she whispered. The idea of climbing on him, and rubbing her pussy against that thing ... even though she'd done it dozens of times before ... made her feel queasy. It had been inside Mary! Seeing him fucking Prudence hadn't affected her quite the same way. That had been quick, and she had been distracted by her concern for Constance. This seemed so much more personal, somehow.
She finally looked up at Bobby's face.
"You won't put it in me ... will you?"
"Of course not," he said, smiling. "Not if you don't want me to."
"I don't want you to," she said, looking earnest.
"Okay," said Bobby.
"But I'm still horny," she said.
"You tell me what you want," he said.
"I don't want to sit on it," she said, nervously. "Would you just use your finger, tonight?"
"Sure," he said, holding out his arms. "Come here."
He didn't do anything at all to her, at first, except kiss her and stroke her back. Before long her own ardor pushed the fear of him away, and she was arching toward him. He sucked her tender nipples, and dug his finger into her until she flopped back, lifting her hips.
Mary wasn't finished, though. She pulled Bobby up off the bed, and lay beside her limp sister, spreading her legs. Bev rolled her head.
"You're going to do it again?" she panted.
"It makes me feel so much better," moaned Mary. "I was pulling my hair out, but I feel so much better with him in me."
Bobby climbed on and Bev got up on her side to watch, as he fisted his prick and brought it to the pussy lips of her sister. Her eyes got bigger and bigger as he slid that long, hard thing into Mary. Mary's groan of satisfaction was obviously a happy one, with no hint of pain or discomfort.
"I feel so stuffed," she moaned.
"Does it hurt?" asked Bev.
"Oh hell no," moaned Mary. "I never want it to end!"
Bev watched then, as Bobby started sawing that thing in and out of Mary, who thrust her pussy up, as he went in, and let her butt relax on the bed as he pulled out, until there was a wet slapping sound as they sped up. When Mary came, her head flopped back and forth and she babbled, mixed up words that didn't go together, but were plain English just the same.
Bobby went in all the way and stopped, grunting twice. He pulled out and slammed in again, and grunted again. Then he started fucking her again, just like he had been. Bev watched as a thick ring of white built up around the base of his prick, and she realized that the white goo he usually spurted into the air, or into Mary's mouth ... the stuff she had tasted ... was now spurting up inside her sister.
Tuesday night was the same. Bev watched as Bobby's prick skewered Mary, and spurted her full of spunk. When Bobby pulled out of her, her pussy mouth was full to overflowing with thick white goo.
Again, though, when it was Bev's turn, all she wanted his finger, instead of letting her pussy touch his spermy prick.
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