The Making Of A Gigolo 12 Janet GriswoldChapter 4
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The Making Of A Gigolo (12) - Janet GriswoldChapter 6 free porn video
By March, the twins had been out on enough dates to suggest that they were thoroughly interested in boys now. The problem was that they always went out together on these dates. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. Most parents (or older brothers) would actually prefer that a young, inexperienced girl be with her sister on a date. What could be better, in terms of being chaperoned? What made it a problem was that neither Bobby nor Mirriam understood the intricacies of the twin relationship, which meant there was no chaperoning of any kind going on.
By March, the twins were experts at getting Chuck off. If he closed his eyes, he could tell which girl had her fist around his prick, by the way she stroked him. Matilda’s grip was always tighter, and faster. Betty gripped him more loosely, but her hand always went up and onto the knob, like she was petting it, in the process of jerking him off.
Both techniques were eminently successful.
On this particular night Chuck learned that while he was getting his rocks off every time they went out, which was just fine with him, the girls were a little less satisfied with things. That turned out to be a product of familiarization with the process of getting Chuck to spurt. It was fun, but, after a while, they knew what to expect.
Not only that, his repeated gasps, moans and gyrations, as he shot his spunk up into the air, suggested that their own orgasms, had when they got home and were in the privacy of their own room, could be a lot stronger than they were, even when they helped each other get there. They had talked about their pact, and had decided it was time to let it come to term. After all ... they were both there.
Chuck learned this when Matilda asked him a question.
“Chuck,” she said, as she jerked her strangling hand along his hot, stiff rod. “Do you love us?”
What man, in that situation, is stupid enough to say “Gee, I don’t really know. This love stuff is still a little vague to me.”
“Yes!” he gasped, feeling his balls begin to gather themselves for the finale.
She let him spurt before she pursued, further, the goal of the twins for that particular night. Getting him to cum was part of that goal.
Betty took over, and milked him dry, while Matilda dangled a stiff nipple in his gasping face.
“Do you love us enough to do exactly what we tell you to do, and nothing more?”
“Sure,” he panted.
Then his world got a lot wilder as the twins stood, and slipped off their lower clothing, something they had never done.
Standing naked in front of him, Matilda explained.
“We want you to get us off, like we get you off,” she said. “But you can only touch us with your fingers ... nothing else! Got it?”
Chuck, to be fair, wasn’t quite all there at that moment. Four naked breasts were like some drug. Call it Marijuana. When two naked pussies were added to that, along with the knowledge that he got to play with those two naked pussies, it was more like mainlining heroin.
He didn’t collapse and die, though. Sex isn’t a deadly drug. Not at his age.
Which is how Chuck ended up with the middle finger of his left hand hooked in Matilda’s pussy, and the middle finger of his right hand hooked in Betty’s pussy, while both young women bucked and groaned, naked, on either side of him.
He was the meat in a very interesting sandwich. Matilda’s plan to make him squirt, and therefore render him harmless, as far as his penis went, was overly optimistic. Being a healthy young man, and being unfamiliar with either pussy he was playing with, he got hard again long before he got either of his girlfriends off.
There were a lot of discoveries that evening. Chuck’s discovery was that just putting your finger in a girl doesn’t guarantee anything at all. He expected the girls to explode in ecstasy, and demand to be fucked.
That was not to be.
The girls discovered that simply having a boy’s finger in your pussy didn’t mean it would end up the same way as when you put your own finger in your pussy. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn’t quite right. Or at least effective. They both discovered that technique really matters.
Another thing the girls discovered was that Chuck’s finger, bigger than their own, felt ever so much better than their own slim digits. It was impossible to ignore the fact that his prick was bigger ... and longer ... than his finger. If some’s good, and more’s better ... too much should be just right.
In this case, “some” was their finger, “more” was his finger, and “too much” ... well, isn’t it obvious to you too?
Had Chuck known what each girl was thinking, he quite likely could have gotten his prick in them that night. His machinations got them very hot, but did not bring the kind of relief they just knew was waiting for them ... somewhere ... just over the horizon.
Chuck, however, was a bit distracted, by two girls trying to teach him how to properly fingerfuck a woman. That’s a little like carrying on two conversations about how to do something, and each person is trying to get you to do this thing in a slightly different fashion.
In the end, Chuck had to handle them one at a time. Matilda got frustrated first, because he just didn’t seem to be listening to her. He was also right handed, but none of them thought of that. Then, he had to get on the other side of Betty, to be able to use his right hand, to do what she was insisting he do.
Betty’s subsequent orgasm, which finally roared out of the dark into her body, and which she felt had been well earned, convinced Matilda that one-on-one was the best way to go. While Betty lay there trembling and gasping, Matilda squirmed between Chuck and her sister, threw her legs open, and went in pursuit of her own orgasm.
Had the girls taken the time to reflect on things, they might have come to the conclusion that, it being their first time and all, they should not have had such high expectations when they launched this new chapter of their relationship with Chuck. What actually happened, though, was that they had to work so hard to get what they had gone after, that they were a little disappointed.
Not that they blamed Chuck. After Matilda got him to move his finger correctly, and had her own very good, but not quite as strong as anticipated, orgasm, they also learned how quickly a young man can recover. He was obviously trying hard, and was obviously very interested in the proceedings.
In gratitude for what they had put him through, they did him again.
That was when both girls, looking at the nice, long, hard thing in their hands, realized that too much might be just right.
Again, if they’d stopped to think about it, they might have realized that they were out of control. They had gone from not being much interested in boys at all, to wanting to fuck one, in a very short time, all things considered. Their arrival at the point of being interested in males ... as males ... had been somewhat retarded. But, as most youngsters discover, once the interest is established, things seem to take off rather quickly after that.
Of course, the immediate problem was ... they had never been put on the pill, like their older sisters. They were well aware of the dangers of that spurting prick. But, like 99.9% of all teenage girls, they weren’t about to go to their mother and say something like, “Hey Mamma, remember when you put all the others on the pill? Well it’s our turn.” You just didn’t do that. You didn’t want Mamma to know that you needed the pill. That was sure to cause ... complications.
They didn’t tell Chuck about all this, of course. But they talked about it later that night in their room. They flipped for it. Matilda lost, which was why, the next day, she was the one who had to sneak into the men’s bathroom at the Apco gas station on the highway out of town, and figure out how to feed the machine the coins that would get them two extra sensitive, wildly colored, ribbed prophylactics.
It was cold, but not bitterly so. There had been eight inches of snow during the night, and Bobby had shown up asking Constance if she wanted to go sledding.
“We’re grown up, silly,” she laughed.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t go sledding,” he said.
She ended up going with him, muttering about how crazy she was, and how juvenile he was acting.
The “sled” turned out to be the inner tube from a big rig truck, almost five feet in diameter, and totally un-steerable. The first time down the hill, she was scared, so he simply sat in the middle of the tube, and pulled her down on his lap, like he was a chair. Both were bundled up, so his hands on her chest, holding her against him, were neither sensual nor particularly noticeable, especially since, as he jerked her onto his lap and put his hands on her breasts, her momentum started them down the hill.
That spinning, bumpy ride, with Constance screaming like she was on a ten story roller coaster, left her laughing. It also convinced her he was right. You were never too old to do this.
She went down once by herself, lying on the tube. She decided that wasn’t as much fun. Part of that decision was because she hit a bump and flew three feet in the air, only landing half on the tube when she came down. She bounced sideways and rolled in the snow, which seemed to seep into every part of her clothing. Then she had to go chase the tube and drag it back up the hill. When they went together, she didn’t fall off and Bobby pulled it back up.
So, from then on, she rode him while he rode the tube, whether he was sitting in it, and she sat in his lap, or he was lying on it, and she was lying on his back.
An hour later, the snow on the hill had been packed down and a bump they hit caused them both to go flying. They rolled over and over, snow flying everywhere, getting into the necks of their coats, and coating sweaty faces. Bobby lay there, arms flung wide, on his back.
Constance crawled over to him, worried at first, but then she saw the plumes of his breath rising from his face. Her face hovered over his, as she checked ... just in case.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Gotcha!” he yelled, reaching for her head. He pulled her down for a quick, very cold kiss on the lips, which she did not resist in any way. Then he let her go and her face went back to where it had been, seeming to hang in space over his.
“I love you,” she said softly.
Mikhaela
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