The Making of a Gigolo (8) - Felicity Chumley

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Chapter Eight

Friday morning, Felicity woke early, much earlier than usual. She felt wonderful and rested. The calm that had come over her, after she got into bed with her husband, and thought about what had happened, was still with her. She had come to the understanding, reluctantly at first, that he had been right. If she'd let him make love to her she'd have been miserable. He'd stopped her from making a terrible mistake. As a result, she had lost her fear of Bobby Dalton, and now looked forward to being with him. She wasn't as early a riser as Ramona, however, and when she walked into the kitchen to clean up her mess, Ramona was already there, and already had done so.

"I'm so sorry, Ramona," said Felicity.

"Must have been something powerful upsetting to have you up that late at night," said the woman, concern on her face.

"It's all resolved now," said Felicity. She felt a thrill as she realized it was all resolved.

"It's not like you to leave half baked cookies lying around," said the cook.

"I know," said Felicity. "I'm starved. Have you got anything I can munch on?"

Felicity was, in fact, munching on a freshly baked biscuit, when Annie came into the kitchen, yawning. She stopped cold, when she saw Felicity, worry in her eyes.

Felicity put down the biscuit and went to the girl. She hugged her tightly.

"Don't worry about a thing," she whispered.

"What's that all about?" asked Ramona, getting more and more interested in the early morning goings on.

"We had a little argument last night," said Felicity. "That's all. It's all taken care of now. It was a small thing. All this fuss about the reunion has had us all on edge. I'm glad we're finally going. Maybe things will calm down now."

She took her biscuit and went to wake Chester up, humming as she left.

"What in the world has gotten into her?" asked Ramona, looking at a wide-eyed Annie.

"I don't know," Annie said slowly. "I thought I was a goner for sure." She suddenly perked up and whirled to look at Ramona. "Ooooo I can't wait to tell you what happened last night!" Ramona frowned. This was getting stranger and stranger.

Chester kissed her good morning and said he wanted to stay in bed.

"You go on, and get ready and go show those friends of yours what real success looks like," he said.

She pouted a little, but then gave him a long, warm kiss and said she'd come in to say goodbye before they left. He was pulling the covers up over his head as she left.

Her bags were already packed. Everything was ready to put in the car. Even Bobby's things were neatly stored in suitcases and hanging bags, sitting in the living room. On impulse, she went to Bobby's room.

She didn't knock, but just opened the door. He was in the act of stretching, his arms up above his head. She rushed to the bed and tried to tickle him, shouting, "Get up sleepyhead!"

She found out that he wasn't ticklish, and then found out how quickly he could move when she was grabbed by the waist and lifted into the air, kicking and squealing. She plopped down on top of him, and suddenly he was kissing her again.

There was the briefest instant of resistance left in her, but once it was used up, she kissed him back. This was a different kind of kiss, though, and when his tongue pushed for access, her lips opened, and her own tongue came to fence with his. She felt his hands on the bottom of her slacks, and felt him pulling her into the lump about where his legs ended, and his trunk began.

When he let her go, she rose up on her elbows, which were supported by his chest, and looked down at him, her eyes wide.

"Good morning, Darling," he said, grinning.

"Good morning ... Dear." She emphasized the last word, making it sarcastic rather than a term of endearment. "You're awfully bold this morning."

"I was motivated," he said. "It isn't often a beautiful woman comes into my bedroom and gets within my reach."

She thought about the fact that, within the last twelve hours two women had come to his bedroom, and gotten within his reach. She realized she was grinding her pussy against that lump, and stopped.

"You're wrinkling my outfit," she pouted.

"Take it off," he suggested.

"Not now, you goofy man!" she said. She let her face down and licked his chin, amazed that she'd done it. "Get up! We need to get breakfast and get on the road!"

"Kansas City's only four hours away," he said. "If you're driving, maybe less than that."

She tried to look stern. "Are you saying I have a lead foot?"

His hands squeezed her butt. "Well, there's no lead here, that's for sure."

She wiggled off of him, taking entirely too long, and struggling entirely too much, considering that he wasn't trying to keep her there at all. She managed to rub most of her body against him as she got off.

She got serious, then, looking down at him. Very slowly she reached for the sheet that was covering him, and pulled it down. He lay there, not moving, as more and more of his body was uncovered.

There it was. For the first time she got to actually see it. It looked as hard as it had felt, the night before, in her hand. Chester was circumcised. This one was not. It looked thicker than she thought possible. She wondered if she could get it in her mouth.

Blushing at the thought, she looked back up at his face. He was smiling, and those blue eyes were warm and inviting.

"Get up," she said. "We're not supposed to act married until we get there."

"Your wish is my command," he said, gallantly, as his feet swung over the edge of the bed.

She backed up, almost timidly as he stood, her eyes riveted on the thing that stuck straight out from his loins. Chester's always drooped, even years ago, when she could still get it stiff. This one didn't droop, and she felt a rush of passion that told her to get out, before she did something foolish.

She saw him coming toward her, and instinct told her he was going to kiss her again. She darted to the door and half closed it, putting it between them, with her head peeking around the edge.

"You just get dressed," she ordered. Then, just before she shut the door, she paused.

"Thank you for last night," she said. "You were right."

This day, she chose the 1965 Bentley Flying Spur. It was long, and sleek, with maroon sides, and a pearl white hood and roof. It just screamed "Money!" and she knew that. Once they packed, and were on the road, the V-8 purred with power, but she drove with just one hand, the power steering making it simple for her.

"Nice car," said Bobby.

"Thank you," she said. "Have you ever driven one?"

He laughed.

She looked over at him. "You'll need to drive in Kansas City. It would be expected for the husband to drive."

"This is too precious to risk me driving it," he said. "Especially in a big city, with big city traffic."

"We must be convincing," she said firmly.

He drove from Topeka on. The car handled marvelously, and responded to his foot with more power than seemed actually necessary. It was a joy to drive, though watching her drive it had been fun too. Now she got to watch him, and the fluttery feeling in her belly, that told her tonight ... at the hotel ... would be very intense, made her anticipation grow.

They arrived in style. A bellhop scurried to get their luggage, while another came to get the car and park it in the garage. She had booked a suite, long before she had known Bobby would be coming with her. She stood, looking at the lone bed, and the flutters started up again. She'd forgotten about that, in the run-up to this moment. She realized it didn't matter, and went to see if the rest of the room was suitable. She'd also forgotten to talk to Bobby about tipping. She'd given him five hundred dollars in cash to carry during the trip. She'd turned to see him handing money to the bell hop, who was grinning from ear to ear.

Then they were alone in the room.

"This is really nice," he said, looking around. "I hope ten dollars wasn't too much to tip him."

"You have a friend for life," she said, wryly. "And, you have ensured we'll get the best service."

"What now?" he asked.

She knew what she wanted right now, but she controlled herself.

"Some of the others might be in the bar," she said. "We could go down and see, and be seen."

"You people have funny rules," he said, smiling.

"I suppose I'm putting on airs," she said. "I shouldn't, huh?"

"Probably not," he said. "You want them to envy you, not hate you."

"Why do I want them to envy me?" she said, more to herself than to him. "I'm lucky. I have everything a woman could want. My life is easy. I should be happy I'm so lucky, instead of flaunting it."

"Do you have everything you want?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "What could I possibly desire that I don't have?"

"Children?" he asked.

She blinked. She'd gotten so used to the idea that Chester could never give her children that she'd put that out of her mind.

"I have plenty of time for that," she said. "I'm young, but Chester isn't. One day I'll think about children, perhaps."

"What if he lives to be a hundred?" asked Bobby. "I wouldn't put it past him. He's a heck of a guy."

"Yes, he is," said Felicity, feeling warmth surge through her at the thought of her husband. She could never have asked for a more loving man, even though he was too old to give her a family. He was so loving that he sent her off to enjoy being with a younger man, knowing somehow, that she needed that, or at least a taste of that. The taste she'd already gotten was deliciously tantalizing. The thought of drinking more deeply was tantalizing too.

And, what made her happiest of all, was that she was already thinking of what she'd do for Chester when she got finished ... sampling the water from that particular well.

She was thinking so much about that, that she completely forgot to answer Bobby's question.

She took time to survey him, and push that troublesome forelock back up above his brow, before taking him to introduce to her friends. It turned out there were, indeed, three of her old friends in the bar.

Bobby didn't even try to keep up with the names, since they had spouses with them too, and he knew there would be more. She had said her graduating class had more than four hundred students in it, and about two thirds of them were expected to show up for this reunion.

Even though they had practiced what they'd do, he took some of his cues from the others at the big table they ended up at. Two of the men didn't touch their wives at all. One held his wife's hand, and the other couple intertwined arms.

He let the buzz of the catching-up go in one ear and out the other. He was just window dressing, in this situation, and he sipped a Coke slowly as those who knew each other did the talking. At one point, when her hand was lying on the table, he covered it with his, interlacing fingers. She gave him a little squeeze, but went on talking.

They had dinner, and were joined by another couple, who came in and saw the group. A band started playing and one of the men got up and pulled his wife to the dance floor. Bobby stood, and held out his hand. Felicity excused herself from the conversation and melted into his arms. It was slow music, and she lay her head on his chest.

"Having fun so far?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, squeezing his shoulder.


She looked up at him, smiling, and he gave her a quick, warm kiss.

"You did that perfectly," she said, smiling. She reached up to brush his forelock back.

"You make it easy," he replied.

A man she'd known in school asked her to dance, and she turned, a little nervously to Bobby. He waved and told her to go on. The man's wife was asked to dance by another man, and soon everybody was dancing with everybody else. The woman Bobby asked to dance had been one of the ones talking the most. She was a little plump, but light on her feet.

"You dance divinely," she said.

"Thank you," he replied.

"I think Felicity was very lucky to find you," she flirted.

"On the contrary," he said, smiling. "I'm the lucky one."

"You're rich, aren't you?" she asked, not realizing she was being rude. In her world, she didn't know any rich people ... didn't know the "rules" of interacting with them. "I can tell," the woman went on.

"I've been lucky in other ways too," he said.

"Felicity looks so good," the woman said.

"She's beautiful," Bobby agreed.

Then the dancing was over for a while, as people returned to desert, or drinks, and the inevitable telling of tales, and remembering of events long past.

They got back to the room late, but there wasn't anything scheduled until ten the next morning. There was to be a reception at the school, and the alumni would be treated to seeing what had changed, and what hadn't.

"You go first," said Bobby, offering Felicity the bathroom. Both wanted to shower after the dancing, and the close, smoky room.

She was in there a surprisingly short time. She'd had her hair cut and styled in a shag so that she could take less time to fix it up, and be able to wash it easily. Bobby knew that her new attitude was real, when she came out wearing a translucent gown. It was respectable, as far as having both a bra and panty, but there was very little of either. The bra wasn't quite a demi, as her nipples were barely covered. The gown was cut oddly, hanging long in the back, but rising as it came around the sides, to leave her thighs bare in the front.

She was nervous. She stopped, waiting for some kind of response from him.

"Beautiful," he sighed.

"Jenny ... she's one of the women you danced with ... she and I were friends in school. Jenny told me you said I was beautiful."

"You are," he said. "Especially in that."

"Thank you," she said. "You can have the bathroom now."

He went in, took his shower, and came out naked, rubbing a towel over his head, all within ten minutes. She was artfully lying on the bed, flipping through a magazine of some sort. She looked up at him, and her eyes widened.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes raking over his body. His penis was soft.

"Acting like a husband," he said, finishing with the towel and tossing it on the arm of a chair.

"Aren't you going to wear ... something ... to bed?" she asked.

"Was I wearing anything in bed the last time you saw me in bed?" he asked.

"Well, no ... but that was after ... I mean Annie had just been there, and ... you sleep naked!?"

He stopped, standing with his hands on his hips. He looked like a gladiator to her. "Usually," he said. "I can wear something if it will make you less nervous."

"Are we going to ... do anything?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

"I don't know," he said, as if it didn't matter.

"How can you not know?" she asked.

He came to the bed and lay down on it on his side, resting his head on his hand, his elbow on the bed.

"I don't know, because you are in charge here," he said softly. "I'm play acting ... remember?"

"But last night ..." she moaned.

"Last night you needed to relax. I helped you relax."

She was quiet for a moment, remembering the silly thoughts she'd had when she stormed out.

"I thought you didn't want me last night," she said softly.

"Oh, I wanted you," he said. "But it wasn't time."

"Is it time now?" she asked, her voice higher than usual.

"I don't know," he said again.

She felt frustration. She had been anticipating this all day long.

"When will you know?" she asked.

He changed the subject on her.

"Are you going to sleep in that?" he asked. She was still wearing all of the outfit.

"No, of course not," she said. "I sleep naked too ... at home."

"Why did you think it was odd that I'd sleep naked?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "You just seem like a pajama kind of man to me."

"Why do women buy things like that, to wear from the bathroom to the bed, but not sleep in it?" he asked.

"We like it when men take them off of us, silly," she said.

"I see."

"Are you going to take it off of me?" she asked, sounding very young.

"Mm hmm", he said, nodding.


"You know what I think?" he said.

"No!" she yipped. "How am I supposed to know what you think when you don't act like I expect you to act?" The frustration was clear in her voice.

He grinned. "I think ... maybe ... you're ready now."

She didn't quite know what to expect. It had been seven years since she was with anyone near her own age. For four of those years she had been only with a man whose mind was willing, but whose body failed him.

She was astounded by how erotic she felt, as he removed her lingerie. He was very deliberate about it, moving slowly, savoring each inch of flesh that he exposed. He kissed everywhere on her too, sometimes using his tongue to lick her, until she was crazy to feel him against her.

When he crawled between her legs, and dipped his face to the place she so loved to have Chester's lips, it was completely different. Chester made her feel good. He gave her orgasms. This was so different that the two didn't compare at all. Bobby let his weight down on her, pinning her solidly to the bed, and slid his hands under her butt. His strength pulled her against him, and his lips descended on vulva in a way that made her feel helpless. He did not, however, go inside her. He lavished attention on her breasts, and she was so primed for this that she had two orgasms in a row.

Then he got to his knees, to show her his erection.

"This, is what you do to me," he said, his voice husky.

She felt something akin to awe, at being told she was responsible for something so handsome ... so impressive ... so large, to her eyes, that she was momentarily panic stricken that it wouldn't fit ... if he ever got around to using it!

He teased her with it, moving to use the tip to play with her nipples. He moved it to her mouth, and she turned her head.

"I don't want it there," she panted. "That's for later."

"Where do you want it?" he teased.

"You know," she moaned.

"Are you ready?" he teased.

"I'm dying!" she yelled.

Then he teased her by sliding it up and down her slippery slit, pressing in a little, only to pull it back out and diddle her clit with it. She finally reached for the skin on his sides, the only place he had a shred of extra skin, and tried to dig her nails into it.

"Ow," he said, leaning down to kiss her.

It was while she was trying to suck his tongue into her mouth, that he finally gave her what she was desperate for.

"Oooofff" she gasped into his mouth.

He pulled his face up a little, staring down at her with those devastating blue eyes.

"Ohhhh," she groaned. "Ahhhhhh"

Her hips wiggled. She felt like someone had pushed a ball bat into her.

"You're so big," she groaned.

"I'm completely normal," he said. "You're just not used to it."

"You're so long," she moaned, as her hips tried to wiggle.

"You want me to take it out?" he asked.

Her legs whipped up to cross over his thighs.

"If you do, I'll kill you!" she gasped. "With my bare hands," she moaned, digging her fingernails into his back.

"How bout if I take it out," he said, pulling most of it out of her, despite her leg lock. She opened her mouth to complain. "And then put it back in?" he said, thrusting forward.

"Ohhhh, Bobby," she moaned. Her ears heard her words, and the memory of pressing her ear to the door, and hearing Annie say them too made her suddenly ravenous.

She pulled hard with her legs, trying to get him deeper into her, and then whipped her legs off of him, digging her heels in to use them to lift them both as high as her muscles would let her.

"Yes," he said, kissing her. "I think you're ready."

Then he fucked her. There is no other description for it. There was little tenderness as he repeatedly thrust deep into her, moving faster and faster until her breasts jiggled like Jell-O as he held himself up off her and pounded her. He had been hoping to be able to do this with this woman, and he worked hard, breaking a sweat as he worked her over.

For Felicity, it was as if she had been blind, but could suddenly see. The colors in her mind were brighter, and her nerves jangled as she was treated to something she had been unable to anticipate. His prick seemed to touch her everywhere at once. She felt helpless again, but didn't care, as her whole body was shaken. Then he pushed in deep, and rotated his loins, making her clit howl. His chest came down on hers, squashing her firm breasts and his lips sucked the breath from her as he kissed her on her lips, chin and cheeks.

She lost count of the orgasms. In fact, one of her complaints, later, would be that she couldn't concentrate on enjoying one, before another was there, hammering at her. What she remembered most, after that first session, was that it was like being on a roller coaster ride, where she couldn't get her breath, and couldn't prepare for the next drop, because drops were all there were.

His sudden stop, and the groan of sweet agony that burst from his throat were all the warning she had when she suddenly felt a ball of heat, deep inside her. It came in pulses, and seemed to expand until she thought her whole belly was on fire. She realized it was his essence, being spurted into her by that beautiful thing he had finally let her have. He grunted again, and this time she could feel his penis swell as it spurted once more. This was something that Chester had never been able to give her. Her mind corrected her immediately. This was what Chester had just given her. Chester had made this possible.

As much as she loved the feel of Bobby's warm sperm, soaking her pussy, she loved her husband more, for letting her feel it.

In all the changes that had taken place in Felicity, in the past two weeks, and with all the turmoil in her emotional existence, she can, perhaps, be forgiven for never once thinking that, while Chester couldn't get her pregnant ... that was not the case with Bobby.

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