The Making Of A Gigolo 3 Sherry WinstonChapter 3
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The Making Of A Gigolo (3) - Sherry WinstonChapter 2 free porn video
Sherry’s emotional level stayed high ... so high that it scared her. She’d grown more or less comfortable with Sam, over the six years she’d been married to him. She’d thought she was in love with him.
Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. She certainly never felt anything for him like she felt for the naked man lying next to her. She felt a tug from him, on an emotional level, that screamed for her to be closer to him, even though her sweating, naked body was pressed against his.
“I think I love you,” she whispered, not meaning to say it out loud.
Bobby opened his eyes and turned his head, to stare into her big blue eyes.
“You don’t love me,” he said. “You love this.”
“But it feels so strong!” she insisted.
“We don’t know each other,” he said gently. “You can’t possibly love me.” He reached over to tweak the nipple that was exposed. “You love this.”
She shuddered, feeling her loins catch fire again, and was amazed. Just that one little touch made her want him in her again, and she had begged him to stop, not ten minutes past!
“Maybe you’re right,” she sighed. “I don’t know what to feel. I should feel bad ... but I don’t.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “What just happened was good, and shouldn’t carry any guilt with it.”
“But I cheated on Sam!” she moaned. “I belong to him!”
“You don’t belong to anyone but yourself,” corrected Bobby. “All you did was please yourself.”
“You make it sound so simple,” she whined.
“It is simple. We made love. It was good. Making love is good.”
“If we made love, then why doesn’t that mean I love you?” she asked, clearly frustrated.
“All right,” he said, patiently. “If you want to believe that because we made love, some of that love will always be shared between us, then I agree. Even if we never do it again, we’ll always have the memory of what happened. That kind of love, I’ll admit to.”
“You don’t love me?” she asked, her voice somewhere between sulky and hopeful.
“If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have done that with you,” he said. “If you want to believe that means love, then I can’t argue with you. But I think you know what I mean when I say we can’t love each other. Not yet. It could happen later, as we get to know each other better.”
“We’re going to keep doing this?” she asked.
“I certainly hope so,” he said, smiling.
“Right now?” she asked, suddenly impatient. That this man wanted her made the fire in her belly burn brighter.
“I have to wait,” he laughed. “It wouldn’t do you any good right now.”
That caused her to look down at his groin. Even soft, it was twice as long as Sam’s ... maybe longer. It was wilted, but still formed a tube.
“Yours looks different,” she said, again, not meaning to say it out loud.
“How many have you seen?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Two,” she answered, automatically.
“Do you think it would taste different too?” he asked.
She reared back, shocked. She’d heard of such things, of course, but only whores did that. He saw the shock on her face.
“I’m told it’s not that bad,” he said softly. “One woman even tells me she loves the taste.”
“Who!?” she gasped.
“A housewife ... just like you,” he said.
“Oh!” she gasped, as it became clear to her that he was serious. “I could never do that!”
“All right,” he said. “I just thought you wanted to go again.”
“I do!” she blurted. Then she blushed. She thought that was astonishing, that she could blush, with her naked body pressed to his.
“That would make it hard again,” he said.
“But that’s ... nasty!” she whispered.
“You don’t have to do it,” he said. “It was just an idea.”
“It’s all ... yucky,” she said, staring at the white coating on his organ.
“All that is, is what I put inside you,” he said. “Did it feel yucky then?”
“No,” she whispered. “I loved it.”
“I loved putting it there,” he said.
“It felt so different,” she said softly. “Everything about you is different.”
“That’s the answer, then,” he said, stretching. “I’m interesting, because I’m different ... and you have that interest confused with love.”
Sherry marveled that she could be so disgusted with him, but be completely unwilling to pull her skin away from his. It confused her.
“Have you ever taken a bath with a man?” he asked, suddenly.
“Of course not!” she said, almost giggling.
“Take a bath with me,” he urged.
They did, and as soon as she settled into the water, and leaned back against him, she knew she was a fool for thinking that this was, somehow, perverted. When his soapy hands slid around her body, she realized that she had shut out many things in her life, because she didn’t understand them, and what she didn’t understand, she was afraid of. When his fingers gave her an orgasm, right there in the water, she wanted to shout for joy, but kept it to a groan of satisfaction instead, because the bathroom window was right next to her neighbor’s house.
Her mind was further stretched when he took her back to her bed, where she eagerly spread her legs for him, shamelessly, as he stood at the foot of the bed and drank in her nakedness. She knew she should feel like a slut, displaying herself for this man she’d only known for a morning, but the look of appreciation in his eyes just kindled the fire in her belly again. Her eyes went to his prick, which was long and hard again, and she held out her arms to him.
“Be patient,” he said, crawling onto the bed. “We’re not in a hurry.”
“I am,” she panted.
“I want to taste you,” he said.
Her mind grappled with what that meant, and then epiphany burst into her consciousness like the sun exploding, as he leaned down and sucked at her pussy lips. Before she could breathe, he found her clit and sucked at it too, biting it between his lips, and torturing it with the tip of his tongue. A violent jerk of her hips dislodged him, and she raised her head, her mouth open in a silent scream, as she saw him dart in to capture her stiff clitty again. He slid his hands under her butt, and pulled, welding his face to her pussy.
Then she did scream hoarsely, as her body was wracked with more of that delicious electricity as an orgasm burst in her loins, and flooded her mind. She couldn’t think, except to concentrate on the pleasure as it jolted her body, making her arms fling to her sides, as if she were welcoming the sun to touch her body all over.
Before she could adjust to that, he was up and over her, and that wonderful pressure was back as he slid deep into her. She was helpless, and even her stomach muscles deserted her as she lay and just felt him slide in and out, and grind against her. When his lips descended on hers, it was while she was enduring another orgasm, and the tangy taste of her own sex only added to the explosion of feelings that felt like it was consuming her body in fire.
Her ears picked up the soft grunts he was making, and she realized that he was spurting in her again. This time, instead of heat, she felt like it was a balm, that was soothing her overheated, burning body, and she clasped him against her, finding the energy to wrap her legs around him.
“Don’t ever stop!” she gasped, with the last of her breath, as he poured her full of soothing nectar.
This time, he pulled her completely over, on top of him. She lay like a wet rag, spread out on his body, her pussy still spasming.
“I don’t ... believe this,” she panted, her cheek on his chest, his heartbeat pounding in her ear.
He simply stroked her back, with the long fingers that felt wonderful, wherever they touched her.
He told her he could only go twice more, before he had to leave.
She whined and moaned that it wasn’t enough, even before he had ridden her to three more glorious orgasms. She was quite sure, at one point, that she would die from the pleasure, but she never did.
Then, quite suddenly, she was satisfied. It was the third offering of his thick, rich seed that seemed to suddenly calm her. This time, that offering took on a deeper meaning, as, finally, she remembered that this was how babies were made. He had filled her with enough of that seed to make ten thousand babies in her. Her mind warred with her. She had been married for six years, and remained childless. But Sam had never come remotely close to doing what Bobby had done. The thought that Bobby, in one day, had given her more than Sam had given her in six years, was sobering. What would she do if this exciting man had gotten her with child? She tried to think about the last time she’d bled. She was so regular that she didn’t think about it much ... didn’t pay attention to it, other than to get through the cramps, and pain of it all.
She got up. Her thighs were messy with his spend. She looked down to see a runnel of white, slipping down her inner thigh. She imagined she could feel the weight of what was left, inside her, weighing down her belly.
“You need another bath,” he said, almost startling her, with his voice.
“I need you to leave,” she said. “Before I want to do it again!”
“You’re feeling guilty,” he said.
She looked at him, so calm and relaxed on the bed. His spermy penis was lying there, as if to remind her that it had just spurted inside her. She might, at that very moment, have his baby growing inside her, and still, all she could think about was crawling back in bed with him.
“If I don’t love you, I shouldn’t feel like I do,” she said, trying to voice how strongly she felt.
He bounded up off the bed, and started to get dressed. She felt panic seeping into her, at the thought that he’d leave and never come back. In almost self defense, she pulled on the panties he’d taken off of her, hours ago. She looked around for her bra, but couldn’t see it, and pulled on her sweater, buttoning the lower three buttons. It felt cloying and hot already, and she wanted to take it back off.
She followed him back into the front room, where his tool bag was and stood, mutely, as he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. His hair was mussed, but he still looked beautiful to her.
It was bursting from inside her ... demanding to be known. “Will I ever see you again?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, and she felt a rush of both relief, and shame that she could be so eager to cheat on Sam again. “If you want to,” he added.
“What happened here today?” she asked, helplessly.
He stepped toward her and took her in his arms so quickly that she was shocked by it.
“You needed something,” he said into her lips, his nose touching hers. “I did too. We gave it to each other.”
He kissed her, lightly, gently, and pulled back. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighed.
She wanted to strip naked on the spot, but he left, before she could.
So, she stripped naked after he left, throwing the sweater across the room, and leaving her panties on the floor. She went to the kitchen, and got a glass of tea, feeling foolish, walking around the house naked. She felt wet on her thigh, and looked to see another runnel of thick, white spunk, flowing down her thigh. She stood stock still, trying to remember when her last period had ended. She couldn’t, and went to the bathroom. Her box of feminine napkins had only one missing. She went to dig into her purse, and pulled out her checkbook, opening it to the register. There! Sander’s IGA. It was the last time she’d shopped there, and that’s where she’d bought the box. The date was exactly ten days previous to today’s date.
She looked down at the sperm, running out of her pussy. Sam never put enough in her for any of it to run out, even if she went and sat on the stool, afterwards. His comment echoed in her mind: “One woman even tells me she loves the taste.”
She reached and scooped, bringing the viscous fluid up to examine it. It had a pearly look, with streaks of clear and white in it, almost artistic looking. She sniffed, but smelled only musk. Not believing what she was doing, she stuck her tongue out, and touched it to the silvery white stuff on her fingers.
Nothing.
She realized she hadn’t actually gotten anything on her tongue, and stared at it again. This had come from him. This was his essence. This was part of what had made her feel so gloriously alive and happy.
She licked her fingers, and immediately wished she hadn’t. She’d gotten too much! Her mouth hung open, and she lurched toward the sink, to spit. She stubbed her toe and, in the pain of it, closed her mouth. Her stomach gave a reflexive heave, before she actually tasted it. She stood, leaning over the sink, thinking about what was going on in her mouth.
It didn’t taste bad. It wasn’t the kind of thing she could say she loved, or even liked ... but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. She sat on the toilet, because her knees were suddenly weak. She had acted like a whore, all day long. She had put something in her mouth that she would have bet the farm she’d never ever put in her mouth. She was sitting, stark naked, with sperm dripping from her pussy. She might be pregnant from a man she’d met just this morning. Her world had been turned completely on its head.
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