The Making Of A Gigolo 15 Agatha RobertsChapter 5
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Bobby woke early, both because he hadn’t had anything to drink and primarily because he hadn’t had anything to eat and his stomach was screaming at him. He got up, got dressed, and went to the kitchen. Along the way he looked in on Paula, who was still snoring, in exactly the same position he’d left her in.
He had just finished eating the eggs and bacon he’d cooked for himself when he heard a shaky female voice call out, “Hello?” That was followed by a groan.
“In the kitchen!” he yelled. If she couldn’t figure out where the kitchen was, he didn’t really care.
Paula’s bedraggled head appeared, peeking around the corner of the entrance to the room. “Hello?” she said, much more softly. Even then she winced.
“Well, you’re alive,” he said. “That counts for something.”
“You don’t have to yell,” she moaned.
“You want something to eat?” he asked. He pointed to his plate, which was streaked yellow from the yolks of the eggs he’d eaten.
She went even more pale and her hand went from her head to her mouth. She lurched to the sink and he heard her retching. It didn’t sound like there was much to bring up. He looked at her. She was wearing one of the thick robes they provided for the guests. She retched again, but he didn’t go help her. Served her right, as far as he was concerned. She fumbled for the faucet handle and he saw her catch some water in her hand and bring it to her mouth. Her hair was hanging down into the sink and it was getting wet. She spit and then turned around.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You got hammered,” said Bobby. He left the plate in full view.
“Why did you let me drink so much?” she complained.
“I didn’t let you do anything!” he said.
She winced. “Please don’t shout like that.” She looked around. “Where am I?”
“You’re at our bed and breakfast,” he said. “I tried to take you home, but it was all locked up. I figured bringing you here was better than taking you back to the party.”
“Where’s Millie?” she whined.
“I have no idea,” he said.
She seemed to become aware of her own odor. “I stink,” she moaned.
“You threw up on everything,” he said, his voice heavy.
She wobbled to the table and pulled out a chair. She sat down, looked at the plate, then closed her eyes.
“Would you please put that somewhere else?” she asked, pointing vaguely to the plate.
He got up and put the plate in the sink. He could see she hadn’t thrown much, if anything, up in there. He went and sat down again. She had her head in her hands.
“Why am I naked?” she asked.
“I had to wash your clothes,” he said. “Mine too.”
She looked up, and her eyes widened. “You took my clothes off?”
“It was either that or let you sleep in them,” he said. “I wasn’t too keen about getting the sheets that stinky. It would have gone clear through to the mattress. I had to give you a sponge bath. You can take a shower now, if you want.”
She seemed to be thinking about something, because she frowned.
“Am I still a virgin?” she asked.
Bobby hadn’t thought this girl could startle him any more than she already had. She certainly hadn’t acted like a virgin last night ... anything but, in fact.
“If you were a virgin when I met you, you’re still a virgin now,” he said. She seemed to relax.
“My sister is going to kill me,” she moaned.
“Well you’ve learned your lesson now ... I hope,” he said.
“All I ever had before was beer,” she said. “Beer doesn’t do that to me.”
“I thought you just turned twenty-one,” he said.
She looked up at him. “You’ve never been to college, have you.” It was a statement, rather than a question.
“Nope,” he said.
“Can I have my clothes, please?” she asked. Gone was the flirtatious girl he’d met the night before. She was thoroughly cowed now.
“Nope,” he said again.
Her head popped up and she winced. “Why not?” she almost whispered.
“‘Cause they’re still in the washer,” he said happily. “You go take a shower and I’ll put them in the dryer.”
Paula French stood under the hot water, which felt really good, except that they seemed to have the strongest water pressure she’d ever felt in her whole life. She put her hands on top of her head to keep the water from beating her to death. Eventually it wasn’t so bad and her hands went to take inventory of her body. She didn’t know what it felt like to have had a penis inside her, but she was pretty sure she should be able to tell, somehow. She didn’t buy his comment that she was still a virgin. If he’d gotten her naked, he’d probably fucked her too.
What was odd about it was that part of her hoped he had fucked her. She’d been worried to death about losing her virginity for years. She’d been sure it would happen when she went to college and got away from her restrictive parents. And there had been lots and lots of boys who were eager to help her. The problem was she always chickened out when the time came. She was really good at getting to that point, but then she got terrified and wouldn’t let the boy get the job done.
Once she’d called a screaming halt right in the middle of the good part, men seemed to lose interest in helping her any more. That was why she went through men like poop through a goose, though her sister didn’t know that.
Her fingers went to her pussy lips and one probed inside. Her hymen was long gone, but she was sure it would hurt if he had forced his penis inside her. She felt nothing. Well, nothing except what she usually felt when she did this. It felt exactly the same as it always had.
She turned the water off and got out to dry off. She looked at herself in the mirror. There were no hickeys on her breasts or neck ... no sign that anything had happened. She felt relief and disappointment at the same time. If he’d fucked her, it would be over and she wouldn’t have to worry about that any more.
She combed out her hair and gathered it to toss down the back of the robe she put back on. She could still smell the faint odor of vomit coming from the robe, but it wasn’t bad. Her stomach felt better too, after the shower.
She went back to the kitchen. He was nowhere to be seen, but there was a glass of tomato juice sitting on the table in front of the chair she’d sat in. She sat down and sipped. Her stomach lurched, but not too badly. She saw two aspirin lying on the table too, and washed them down with another sip of the juice. She heard the clothes dryer running in the next room, but concentrated on getting the rest of the juice down.
She was feeling almost human when she heard a door open, then close, and the voices of women. She winced as they trooped into the kitchen and stopped still, staring at her. There were two women, about her own age, both blond. Each was carrying a bundled up baby. A dark-haired woman was behind them, carrying a little boy.
“Who are you?” asked one of the girls. Paula could see now that they were twins.
“Paula,” she said, as softly as she could. “Could you please talk a little more quietly?”
The woman pushed past the girls and set the boy down on the floor. She took his coat off and he ran towards the living room.
“I assume Bobby brought you here,” said the woman. She was frowning. “Where is he?”
“I have no idea,” moaned Paula. The woman’s voice seemed to stab directly into her brain.
“Hangover,” said one of the twins.
“Humph,” said the woman. “Betty, go see if he’s out in the barn.”
She took the baby from one of the girls, who turned and left the way they had come.
One of the babies started to fuss and the two women left the kitchen, taking the babies away, something Paula was extremely grateful for. The woman was back soon, though, and was doing something at the counter when the girl apparently named Betty came back in.
“He was getting a bucket from the barn,” said Betty. “Her clothes are in the dryer. He said he’ll be in in a minute.”
Paula found herself being scrutinized by the woman, who was frowning again.
“Who are you, exactly?” asked the woman.
“My name is Paula French. I’m visiting my sister, Millie Vaughn.”
“Oh that’s just great!“ said the woman, making Paula flinch again as her voice got loud.
“Please,” she moaned, covering her ears.
The noise level got worse before it got better, because when Bobby came in there was a lot of yelling that went on. All three women seemed to be upset with Bobby for bringing her here. He explained it to them the same way he’d explained it to her. Along the way she found out that the woman was Bobby’s mother and the twins were his sisters. Pretty soon, the twins seemed to lose interest and left the kitchen. His mother went back to the counter and started making coffee.
Bobby went to the dryer and brought her clothes back. He put them on the table, with her bra and panties on top. She saw his mother staring at them and then at her.
“Go get dressed,” he said. He sounded mad. “I’ll take you home, as soon as you clean out my car.”
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