The Making Of A Gigolo 5 Jill TrimbleChapter 4
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Bobby got up from his nap two hours later, when a gaggle of girls stampeded past his room, one of them thumping into his door. He put on the same shorts and T shirt he’d worn when his mother had awakened him, and left the room, to see what was expected of him.
There was cooking going on in the kitchen. A big pot of corn on the cob was boiling, and Prudence was frying chicken, while Mirriam got a ham ready to put in the oven.
“Smells good already,” said Bobby.
“Good, you’re here,” said Mirriam, smiling at him. “Prudence and Constance are staying. We’re going to need more chairs, and she has some at the house. I want you to run her over there and bring them back. She doesn’t need to be carrying chairs in her condition.”
“I told you, I’m fine!” said Prudence.
“Go on,” ordered Mirriam, waving a carving fork their way. “And don’t dilly dally. This all has to be ready in two hours.”
Prudence scooted over, to sit beside Bobby in the pickup. She took his arm.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to dilly dally,” he said, putting his hand on her thigh.
“I’m not,” she said, her voice wounded.
“That,” he said, pushing his arm into the breast she was pressing against it, “is definitely dillying, and this,” he slid his hand up her leg until he couldn’t go any farther, and she hissed... “is definitely dallying.”
“It won’t take long,” she sighed, scooting down into his hand.
They got the chairs to the front door, before she couldn’t wait any longer, and dragged him to the bedroom. Once she was naked, and firmly impaled on his prick, she wiggled her hips furiously.
“I love this so much,” she moaned. She looked down. “Your mother says you do this with other women too.”
“I don’t talk about that,” he said. “It isn’t fair to anyone.”
“Why don’t I care?” she groaned, as a climax washed over her.
“Because, when I’m with you, I only think about you,” he said, pulling at her nipples, to enhance her orgasm.
“We’re not done until you squirt in me,” she gasped, beginning to rock again.
“That’s fine with me,” he grinned, pulling her down to suck at what he had just pulled.
“I love this so much,” she groaned.
The picnic went well, perhaps more so because there were people outside the family there too. Mirriam had gotten surprisingly fond of Prudence, who was almost girlishly thankful that she had a new friend. Further, the girls had all but adopted Constance, who basked in their attention. Bobby’s situation was a little different. That Constance adored him was plain to all the girls. She flirted with him frequently. Mary was old enough to mask her own adoration. Bev paid a lot of attention to him, but was pretty good at making it look like she was just helping with whatever he was doing. Flo was conflicted. She really liked Constance, and the fact that Constance had a crush on Bobby did not escape her. She had been watching Bobby and Bev ever since that night in the pickup truck but, other than what she thought she saw in their eyes, they hadn’t done anything weird.
The younger girls, who, for years, had treated Bobby as any girl treats her big brother, had recently fallen victim to his age and freedom, and their attitudes toward him now resulted in them seeing him as something of a father figure. They vied for his approval, and delighted in any praise he gave them. Flo had seen all of that too.
During the picnic, she watched as Bobby took off his shirt in the shade, to turn the crank on the ice cream freezer. At seventeen, she was plenty interested in boys, in general, but there were none at school that captured her particular attention. There were a few she looked at longer than the others, but they all had girlfriends. Looking at Bobby now, she compared him, for the first time, to other boys she knew. She was both amused, and disgusted to arrive at the conclusion that her brother was head and shoulders above the rest. He was just as handsome, twice as strong, and almost never made fun of her, or teased her anymore.
That kiss had been eating at her. Why had he kissed her like that? It had been a kiss like she’d expect from a boy ... not her brother. And Bev’s hand ... right there in his lap! Mary had told her, the next morning, that nothing was happening that Bev didn’t want to happen ... that Bev was exploring, experimenting with Bobby, instead of boys from school, because she could trust him and he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do. “You don’t need to be worried about Bobby. He would never hurt any of us or allow us to get hurt. He loves us. That’s all you need to know,” Mary had finished.
She’d thought about that for days. Did Bev want to know what it felt like to put her hand in a boy’s lap? Of course she did. Flo wondered what that would feel like too. Had Bev kissed Bobby, like he had kissed her? What else had she “experimented” with? And how did Mary know all about it? She couldn’t believe that Mary had said that, when Flo was ready, if she was ever ready, she could go to Bobby too! Flo thought about that a lot too. She’d been mildly interested in Joey Stevens for about a month. There had been something about him that made her want to touch him. He’d been friendly to her too, and she let him kiss her once. But he’d picked another girl to ask out, and Flo had backed off, disappointed, but also glad, somehow.
She hadn’t said anything to either Bev or Bobby, and they had both acted like nothing had happened. Bobby had even said it was nothing. How could that be nothing? The kiss, short as it had been, had been disturbing. That certainly hadn’t been “nothing”. Not to her.
Bev left Bobby, at Mary’s call. Mary was freaking about the wedding, and kept thinking up something else every other minute that had to be resolved instantly. Flo couldn’t imagine wanting to get married, but she had already decided that, if she ever did, it was going to be very simple. She’d stand in front of the preacher and say “I do” and whoever the groom was would say “I do” and that would be it. If they had to get married in jeans, that was fine, but there was no way she was going to go completely crazy, like Mary had. She watched Bobby’s muscles move, as he cranked the ice cream. On impulse, she walked over.
“Need some help?” she asked.
“Don’t know if you could turn it or not,” he said.
That was the kind of thing she’d been thinking about it. Any other man would have said, “You’re too weak to turn this,” but Bobby didn’t assume that.
“Why did you kiss me?” she asked. She didn’t think she needed to specify which kiss she was talking about.
“You were upset,” he said softly. “I didn’t want you to do anything that you’d be sorry for later.”
“Why would I be sorry for anything?” she asked.
“Because you love Bev, and you love me, and you would be sad, eventually, if you made trouble for either of us.”
“Are you guys doing it, or something?” she asked.
He looked at her. “Doing it?”
“You know what I mean,” she said. “Christy Bellows got drunk one night on spiked punch. She said she and Charley do it sometimes.” Charley was Christy’s brother, though he was a year younger than Christy.
“And you believed her?” asked Bobby.
“Yes,” said Flo. “She kind of described it in detail. I’ve heard of other kids messing around with their brother or sister.”
“No, we’re not ... doing it,” said Bobby.
“Why did she have her hand on your cock?” asked Flo.
“When did you start talking with a gutter mouth?” he asked.
“Don’t give me that crap, Bobby. Cock, penis, prick, whatever you want to call it ... she had her hand on yours.”
“Why do you want to know this?” he asked, his arm steadily cranking.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It makes me nervous, thinking about it.” She frowned. “If you’re doing stuff, I mean.”
“Why would you be nervous?” he asked.
“I’ve kissed exactly one guy,” she said, folding her arms under her breasts. Flo was smaller than either Bev or Mary. She was a tomboy, and had the shape to go with it. “When you kissed me, it was better than it was with him. That’s just weird.”
“He didn’t love you,” said Bobby. “I do. It makes a difference.”
“She’s younger than I am,” said Flo, ignoring his comment, even though it had sent a zing of emotion through her. “How come she gets to do stuff, and I don’t?”
“Do you want to?”
“No, but it’s not fair anyway.”
“Why do you even care what Bev does?”
“I’m her big sister,” said Flo. “I have to watch out for her.”
“Then I think you should ask her if I’ve done anything that makes her nervous, or afraid, or worried, or in any way that might cause her pain.”
“That’s a bullshit answer,” she said.
“You’d better be careful,” he warned, stopping the crank. “If Mamma hears you talking like that, she’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”
“She would not!” said Flo, feeling suddenly like she was ten again.
“And I’d hold you down while she did it,” said Bobby.
“Why won’t you just tell me?” she moaned.
He stopped cranking and looked at her. “Let me ask you a question,” he said. “How would you feel, if I told, say Horace, that I kissed you?”
“I’d die of embarrassment!” she wailed.
“Then why are you asking me to talk about Bev?”
“So you’re not going to tell me what you two do?”
“Nope,” he said. “Ask Bev. If she wants to tell you, that’s fine. If not, it’s between her and me.”
“Are you going to kiss me again?” She blinked. Where had that come from? She hadn’t intended to ask him that.
“If you want me to,” he said calmly. He started cranking again.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard you say!” she whined. “Why on Earth would I want you to kiss me like that again?”
“There isn’t anybody in the whole wide world that can answer that question except you,” he said. He grinned.
She fumed for a minute.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“Kissing you?”
“Yes ... did you like it?” She seemed very interested in his answer.
“I already told you ... I love you. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t love you.”
“But you’re my brother!”
“I’m your half brother,” he said. “You know that.”
She looked around, a horrified look on her face. “We don’t talk about that stuff!”
“But you know it,” he said.
“You’ll always be my brother,” she said stiffly.
“And I’ll always love you, whether I ever kiss you like that again, or not,” he said. “You want to try this now?”
He stepped away from the churn, and she moved to grasp the handle. She gave a lurch. The crank wouldn’t budge. Her eyes widened. He had just been turning it ... round and round! She tried again. She got it to move half a crank, before giving up.
“Think about this, before you spout any more dirty words out of those pretty, soft lips of yours,” he said.
He leaned over and started turning the crank again. She watched his muscles bunch, and felt flutters in her stomach.
“I can hold you down, while Mamma washes your mouth out with soap.” He grinned.
She stalked away, trying to be mad at him. It didn’t work, though. Just like always, he had treated her like an adult, instead of a little sister. True, he hadn’t answered all her questions, but even that, she couldn’t really argue with. She’d heard boys boasting about what they’d done with certain girls. That was one of the reasons she never did anything with any of them. They had big mouths.
Prudence and Mirriam sat in lawn chairs, in the shade of the elm tree and watched, as the young ones played, ran, or shot off firecrackers.
“Your children are so well behaved,” said Prudence.
“You don’t see them all the time,” snorted Mirriam.
“Yes, but what girl just stands and talks to her big brother, like Florence was just doing? Most girls don’t want to have anything to do with their brothers.”
Mirriam nodded. “They didn’t either, until he left school. He’s grown up so much. I’m really lucky he’s still living here. He does a lot of work.”
“I could watch him crank ice cream all day long,” sighed Prudence, watching his muscles work.
“I could too,” sighed Mirriam. She blinked, and looked at Prudence, who was grinning at her. “I didn’t mean it that way!” she spluttered.
“Yes you did,” said Prudence, still grinning. “And don’t deny it. He’s gorgeous, and any woman would see it, even his mother.” She giggled. “Besides, I don’t feel as guilty when I know that another woman twice his age gets all googly eyed over him.”
“I am not twice his age!” said Mirriam, trying to sound stiff.
“You’d feel like it after he got through with you,” laughed Prudence.
“Prudence Harris!” gasped Mirriam. “I am shocked!“
Prudence saw the flush of pink under Mirriam’s chin and leaned toward her, lowering her voice.
“He can go for an hour, if you let him.”
“I will not listen to this!” moaned Mirriam.
“One day we did it four times in less than three hours,” giggled Prudence.
Mirriam covered her face with her hands.
“Why are you doing this to meeee?” she moaned.
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