The Making Of A Gigolo 15 Agatha RobertsChapter 5
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The Making Of A Gigolo (15) - Agatha RobertsChapter 34 free porn video
Saturday Bobby woke to the feel of a warm woman in his arms. He couldn’t have explained how he knew, but even before he opened his eyes he knew it was Suzie. He felt another body pressed against his back, and knew it was one of the twins, but not which one.
When he did open his eyes, he realized that it was the smell of bacon and eggs that had awakened him. He lifted his head. Only Suzie and Betty were still in the room with him. His assumption that the others had gone home was incorrect. They had simply spread out in the apartment, finding places to sleep. The married sisters were more used to rising early, and had gotten up to make breakfast in the kitchen of the barn.
He got up carefully enough that while both women muttered and moved, neither woke completely. He covered them with the bedspread and put on a T shirt and some running shorts. Barefoot he padded out into the common area.
“He’s alive,” said Florence.
“Thanks to you guys,” said Bobby.
“Don’t be silly,” said Flo.
“I’m not,” he said. “Thank you. I really mean that.”
“You always were hot to trot with us,” said Bev.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I meant for fixing things between Connie and me.”
Mary turned from the stove. “Things aren’t fixed yet. You need to go see her.”
He turned and went back into his room. Within two minutes he was back, fully dressed, with his car keys in his hand.
“I meant after breakfast,” said Mary, smiling.
“Not hungry,” said Bobby. His stomach growled loudly enough for all four women to hear.
Matilda came out of the nursery. She was holding Veronica to her breast, and the little girl was sucking happily.
“Aren’t you a little confused?” asked Linda, staring at her younger sister.
“We feed each other’s babies all the time,” she said, yawning. “Joey got finished, and Betty’s still sleeping.” She looked at Bobby. “Isn’t she?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do now that Bobby can’t help empty us,” said Matilda.
Florence’s mouth dropped open. “He does that?“
“Sure,” said Matilda, not embarrassed at all. “Feels wonderful too.”
“I have to go,” said Bobby.
“Eat something first,” said Mary.
“I’ll eat at Prudence’s,” he said.
“At least call them and let them know you’re coming,” said Bev.
“Thanks again,” said Bobby. “I really love you guys.”
The fact was that Bobby was still afraid that, if he called ahead, Constance would tell him not to come. Now that hope had re-entered his life, he felt like he had to resolve things now ... today ... before something else happened to ruin things again. He knew that even if Constance told him not to come, he’d go anyway. By not calling, he avoided that possibility.
He didn’t knock. He didn’t try to go in quietly, but he didn’t storm in either. He went to the kitchen, where Prudence looked up at him from the table, where the paper was spread out, and a cup of coffee was steaming. Her eyebrows rose, framing her unasked question as to why he was there.
“I need to see Connie,” he said.
“She’s not up yet,” said Prudence. “Is everything all right?”
“I hope so,” he said.
“I’ll go get her.” Prudence rose.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’d like to wake her up myself ... if that’s okay.”
Prudence sat back down. She looked nervous. He didn’t wait, to explain. That could be done later.
Constance was dreaming. It was one of those crazy wild dreams, where you know you’re dreaming, and that it must mean something, but still doesn’t make any sense. There were trucks everywhere, of all sizes and shapes. Some of them were moving, and others just sat, as if parked willy nilly. All of them were forest green, including the glass and what would normally be chrome parts. Even the tires were green. And if that wasn’t odd enough, they all had mouths, where the front bumper should be, and they were babbling at her. She heard “Connie!” quite clearly, though coming from multiple mouths. The rest of it she couldn’t understand. In her dream she concentrated and slowly, the worlds began to become understandable.
“Connie! Will you marry me?”
“What?” She looked at all the trucks, which were still moving, or sitting still. Their headlights turned into eyes that stared at her, moving as the trucks moved.
“Will you marry me?” they insisted.
In her dream she cleaned her ears with imaginary fingers on hands attached to arms she couldn’t see, but knew were there.
“Connie, will you marry me?”
The trucks faded, and she knew she was waking up. She didn’t want to wake up. This was bizarre and it had to mean something. She wanted to know what that was, but they faded anyway. With frustration she shouted: “Wait!“ but it was too late.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned, feeling the real world begin to seep into her consciousness as she woke up.
She felt a hand on her arm, and opened her eyes. Bobby’s face was right in front of hers, and she blinked.
“Please?” There was obvious pleading in his voice.
“What?” she asked. Her mind was muddled. She was glad to see him, but something was trying to tell her she shouldn’t be.
“Please marry me,” he said.
As if cold water had been thrown on her, her mind cleared. She was almost overwhelmed by the sensations that flooded her conscious mind ... the heat of his fingers, where they touched her arm ... the sounds of birds outside ... the brightness of the sunlight flooding through her windows. She was even aware of the tilt of the bed, and her brain assessed that Bobby was sitting on the edge, making it tilt like that.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Her mind was crystal clear, but her mouth was still dry and fuzzy from sleep.
“What I should have done years ago,” he said. “I just didn’t know it back then.”
The thing that had been so insistent, poking at her, telling her to say “No!” ever since the trucks had begun to fade as her dream was abandoned, became clear in her mind.
“I can’t marry you,” she said. “You’re a gigolo.”
“I’m not a gigolo,” he said. His voice was intense. “I was never a gigolo. It wasn’t about the money, Connie. And besides ... that’s all changed now.” He leaned even closer. She could smell the toothpaste on his breath.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. There was some impatience in his voice. “It’s morning.”
She moved to get up, aware that her own breath must be awful. She had learned that with Tim. It seemed so long ago. She realized she was naked, and stopped.
“Turn around,” she said.
“Why?”
“I’m naked.”
“You’re covered up.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“Oh.”
“Hand me my robe,” she said.
He looked around. There was a thin robe draped across the back of the chair at her dressing table. He picked it up and handed it to her. Then he turned his back. He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He had hoped to get her to say “Yes” as she woke up. If she really felt like his sisters had said she did, he wanted to tap that emotion before she had a chance to think. They could always negotiate later, but he wanted that “Yes” under his belt first. It was all he could think of to do.
He heard her get up, and the impulse to turn and beg her again was so strong that he closed his eyes.
“You’re coming back when you’re done ... aren’t you?”
Connie heard the yearning in his voice. It made something deep inside her feel warm.
“I’ll come back,” she said.
She actually saw his tense muscles relax, and that warm spot expanded. His non-verbal communication, even though it was unconcious, spoke much louder than words.
She brushed her teeth while she sat on the toilet, and wondered if he could hear the splash of her urine as it hit the water in the bowl. She’d wondered that when she was with Tim too, but had never had the chance to find out. She looked into the mirror. Her hair was a mess, but her brush was out there, in her room, on her dressing table. She raked her fingers through her hair a few times and then gave up. It wasn’t important. Bev and Suzie had been here yesterday. She’d poured her heart out to them. Now he was here. She felt something expand inside her and clamped down on the feeling. It wasn’t that easy.
When she walked out of the bathroom he was facing her. She saw his eyes widen, and his face got tense. She wasn’t thinking about the fact that her summer robe was not dense enough to hide what was under it, and that he could see both her nipples and the darkness between her legs, where her hair was lush.
She didn’t know what to do, but her knees felt a little weak, so she sat down on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t help but look at him. There was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch until she thought she’d start crying.
“I’m begging you,” he said softly. “I love you.”
“Sit down,” she said. She didn’t want to look up at him. “Stop begging. Let’s talk about this.”
Bobby’s own knees felt weak. She wanted to talk. That wasn’t a good sign. Every time they’d talked before, he’d said something stupid, or something he shouldn’t have said, and it hadn’t turned out well. But she gave him no choice. At least she hadn’t thrown him out. He sat on the chair her robe had been draped over.
“What’s changed?” she asked.
“Everything!” he moaned. “I’ve been going crazy! I can’t stand it that you’re mad at me. I’ve been in love with you for years, and didn’t know it. Once I finally figured it out, I realized I couldn’t live without you. But I thought I’d blown it. I thought you hated me.”
He stopped, hoping she’d tell him he was wrong.
“I was pretty pissed off at you,” she said.
He relaxed ... just a little. It wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for, but at least she was speaking about the past ... he hoped.
“I kept trying to figure out what love was,” he said, tentatively. “I didn’t really have any idea until I thought I’d lost you. I knew then that I loved you, but you didn’t want to see me and I lost hope. Then last night, they said you loved me, and it was like the sun came out.”
“I never said I didn’t want to see you,” said Connie softly. “When you didn’t come back ... after the last time ... I thought you had decided you couldn’t be what I need you to be.”
“I’ll do anything,” he said, sliding off the chair, and onto one knee. He didn’t think anything about the fact that this was the traditional pose for a man to assume when asking for a woman’s hand. He just wanted to be closer to her, and be able to see what was in her eyes. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
Barbie
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