The Making Of A Gigolo 5 Jill TrimbleChapter 4
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They lay there, limp, side by side. Less than four minutes had passed since they ran from the bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” he panted.
“Why!?” she gasped. It had been the best sex she had ever had in her life.
“I guess I got carried away,” he said. “I was a little quick.”
She still felt the warmth of his spunk in her belly, and her pussy was still pulsing gently in the immediate after effects of her orgasm.
“I’ll let you make it up to me,” she said, feeling unbelievably excited at the prospect of anything remotely like that happening again.
“Thank you,” he panted.
She wanted to giggle with happiness. She hadn’t felt like this for as long as she could remember. She knew it wasn’t love. Not in the sense of being in love with him. She loved him for who he was, and for what he had just done, but she had no illusions that it meant anything other than two people sharing something wonderful.
She was suddenly full of energy, even though she was still out of breath. She felt like a whole new world had opened up for her. She rolled, to land against him, lifting to let him slide an arm under her. Her fingers traced over his chest.
“Can I do something?” she asked.
“What?” he responded.
“I’ve never tasted a man.”
“Be my guest,” he said.
She scooted down to stare at his prick, which was slick with streaks of milky white. She thought about how that milky white stuff was inside her right now. That had happened many times, but it seemed different, somehow. She had never had the urge to put her mouth on Mark’s penis. That was one thing he had ordered her to do that she had refused. He’d gotten angry time and again, sometimes getting up and leaving her, only to come back later and rut in her savagely. She looked at the thing she’d never had an urge to suck, and her mouth watered. Even the streaks of white on it seemed, somehow, to look like something sweet, like pudding.
Her first tentative tastes were with the tip of her tongue. It certainly wasn’t pudding. She couldn’t taste anything, really, until, with a burst of energy, she sucked the whole limp thing into her mouth. She was amazed that it would all fit, considering that her pussy still felt the now-relaxed strain of being stretched.
Then the taste hit her, a mixture of salt, musk, with just the hint of sweet in it, and an overlaying sense of tangy something. Her cheeks caved in as she surrendered to the natural urge to swallow, as she pulled off to seal her lips so that she could. The taste coated the inside of her cheeks, and she licked her lips. She stared at the penis in front of her. It had thickened a bit, in her estimation, but now it was clean as could be. There were streaks of that white in his pubic hair, at the base of his prick ... dabs of it that glued the hair together.
She sucked him in again, feeling the texture of softness that gave when she pushed her lips against it, but was dense underneath. She sucked, experimentally, and was rewarded with a moan from up where his head was. She turned her head to look at his face, sucking hard to keep him in her mouth, and his eyes were pinned to hers.
“Feels really good,” he sighed.
Her cheek felt his balls pressing against it, and she lifted one hand to feel them. Two semi hard little orbs slipped back and forth, as her fingers tried to capture them.
“Easy,” he moaned, as she caught one, briefly, and it slipped from her grasp again.
She pulled her mouth off of his penis. It was longer, and thicker still. She gazed curiously at the balls she was feeling, and marveled at the wrinkly sack that held them. Her pussy felt hot and swollen, and there was an ache deep in her belly that demanded she be filled again.
She went back to work on his penis, and within three or four minutes it wouldn’t fit in her mouth any more, and she had to shift to sliding her lips up and down its length. Curiously, she grasped it with her hand, pulling off again, to stroke it gently, watching as the skin covered the head, and then peeled back, like a fruit being skinned. The knob was dark, almost purple, and she licked it, feeling the difference in texture. It was smooth and hard, while the skin around it was still soft and pliable.
A clear drop welled up from the little slit in the tip, and she licked at that with the tip of her tongue. It had the musky, salty taste, but so little that she sealed her lips over the tip and sucked, trying to get more to come out. He hissed, and the thing in her hand was suddenly hard as a rock, under the soft skin that sheathed it.
“I want it in me again,” she panted.
She waited, for him to move, so she could lie down and spread her legs again. Yet again, he did something she didn’t expect. He pulled her up to lie on top of him. His chest felt warm against her breasts, and her long pony tail fell past her cheek to tickle his chest.
Without words, he maneuvered her until she realized he wanted her to sink down on his shaft. He wanted her to be on top! Another new thing, which she had never done with Mark. Everything else new had been fabulous, so she entered into this new thing gladly, with energy, squatting while he held himself up for her. She looked down just as a long drip of thick white drained out of her and drooled all over the tip of his penis. As she lowered lips that were now parted, though not much, she watched in awe as they spread and shoved that thick white down his shaft as that purple knob slid effortlessly into her.
With entirely too much enthusiasm, she gave in to the craving to be full again, and dropped, all at once. She groaned as it felt like a soft spear had penetrated all the way to her stomach, and felt the pain of her cervix being pressed deeper into her body than it wanted to be pressed. She sat and panted, as the nerves in her pussy screamed “Yes!“ and clasped the intruding member tightly in a welcoming embrace.
“I feel like I ate a whole cow,” she groaned.
She looked at her abdomen, expecting to see it bulging, but it was flat as a board.
It was then, seeing the thick ring of white that almost obliterated her pussy lips, where they were pressed tightly to his messy pubic hair, and her board-flat abdomen, that she remembered her plan of revenge. She was fertile. She was mid cycle. This man’s sperm was packed into her, held there by the thick stalk that had injected it there. That flat belly might very well swell, as his baby grew and stretched her skin. As she sat there, looking at the evidence that they were mating, she no longer wished that it would happen for revenge. Instead, she felt a craving deep in her belly ... deeper than he was penetrating ... to be full of life ... to see her belly grow larger and larger ... to feel that life inside her move and roll. Her biology demanded that this mating be fruitful, and, that if it wasn’t ... this time ... that she do this again and again until it was.
She looked up his body, past his bulging chest muscles, to his calm face. He was smiling, and it was the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen. She loved that smile, and her pussy muscles clenched to tell her that they loved what was attached to that smile.
Suddenly she was frantic to feel him spurting in her again. Her hips gave a jerk forward, and muscles and gravity brought them back to where they had been. She jerked them again, feeling the thing inside her trying to stay where it was, while her body jerked at it. It felt delicious, and within seconds her hips were almost a blur as they vibrated back and forth. It was all instinctive, and all her concentration was on making that thing inside her pulse again, filling her with heat, like it had just a little while ago.
She felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling, and realized her eyes were closed. She tipped forward from the pressure, and put her own hands on his chest, to take her weight as she leaned. She felt his muscles move, under her hands, and saw him lift his head. She realized his mouth was trying to get to her left nipple, and was instantly at war with herself. That was one thing Mark had been very good at. He sucked her nipples in a way that left her limp, and made her accede to almost everything he ordered her to do. She knew that if Bobby sucked her, she’d cum, and she didn’t want to cum. She wanted him to cum.
“Nooooo,” she moaned, as her forward-leaning posture brought pressure to bear on her clit, and she felt streaks of joy shoot from there to the nipple his mouth was only inches from.
He was too strong, though, and within the next few seconds she felt the suction, and the orgasm she had known would follow thundered toward her.
“Nooooooooo,” she whined, and then she saw stars as he sucked hard and his hands helped her rub her clitty against the root of his imbedded prick.
She heard her voice groaning “Yessssss,” as her body betrayed her and her only desire fell away to be replaced by the desire to lie on top of him while her pussy finished washing her insides clean.
There was a moment of terror as she felt her body lifted, and, with a wet squelch, she was suddenly empty.
“Nooooo!“ she cried, feeling the world go topsy-turvy as her nerveless body turned, all by itself, somehow, and she felt the impact of the bed strike her back. Then his weight came down on her, like she had originally thought it would, and she was suddenly full again. Her body sang with relief, as she felt her tissues widen, no longer stretched. His long, hard prick fit her perfectly now, with her pussy muscles relaxed. The movement continued as she felt her body bouncing up and down, and she realized that he was pounding her. Her abused clit demanded another orgasm, to soothe it, and she lay helplessly as it thundered through her. She felt as weak as if she was in a flood, and the water was twisting her this way and that, as it carried her to she knew not where. She lay limp, unable to muster the strength even to clutch at him, feeling the first probes of panic that she would lose her mind if this went on much longer.
Then, suddenly, the bouncing stopped, and her glazed eyes focused on his face, hovering above her. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. His eyes fluttered and her brain registered a flush of extra warmth in her belly, as his prick swelled and pulsed. His eyes kept fluttering as there were more pulses, and the ball of heat in her belly spread. Her torpor left her instantly, as something very like adrenaline coursed through her.
She clutched at him with clawed fingers, and her legs whipped up to land on the back of his thighs, as her loins pushed upward to accept his gift.
“Oh yessss, “ she wailed. “Cum in meeeee!“
This was what she had craved more than her own release. This was the balm that soothed her ... made her feel complete. This was what she needed more than anything else she could think of. When his eyes steadied, and his lips came down toward hers, she tried to make their lips meld into one flesh, as she felt even more spurts of life-giving fluid rush into her belly.
Again they lay, side by side. Her legs were tightly closed, to keep his warmth from being lost through pussy lips that were no longer tight, or white. They were full and red, both from being stretched and mauled, and from the passion she still felt wafting through her.
“That was a little better,” he sighed.
“I thought I was going to lose my mind!” she panted.
“I’ll try to do even better, next time,” he said, reaching for her hand, and squeezing it.
Her giggles, followed by laughs, turned into the kind of racking belly laughter that leaves one weak, breathless, and with muscles that hurt. It also defeated her labia, and sperm gushed from her to soak the bed spread beneath her buttocks. Eventually, while he stared at her with a smile on his lips, wondering what was so funny, she got up, made him get up, whipped the bedspread off the bed, to reveal unstained, and dry sheets, and then lay back down, demanding to cuddle.
He stood over her as she lay, so limp that she could barely keep her eyes open. He was dressed in clothing that were damp from the washer. She was lying as if dead, naked. He kissed her gently on the lips.
“I have to go,” he said.
“Noooooo,” she moaned weakly. She didn’t have the strength to keep her legs closed, and could feel one of the two loads of sperm he’d packed into her since she took the bedspread off, beginning to leak from her pussy.
“I have to,” he said, smiling. “I can come back another day.”
“Every day,” she sighed.
“Not every day,” he said. “But as often as I can.”
“I’m pregnant,” she sighed. “I have to be, by now.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Do you still want to be pregnant?”
“You have no idea,” she moaned, beginning to examine the insane urge that had driven her all afternoon.
He got a pillow and stuffed it under her buttocks, raising her pubis to the sky, like an offering to the fertility gods of mythical times. His hand smoothed over her belly, like he was performing some magical rite that would encourage the baby to begin to grow.
“I don’t care about Mark anymore,” she said softly.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why we did this.”
She rolled her head toward his, weakly. “You’re the strangest man I ever met,” she whispered.
“I’ve wanted to leave you like this for years,” he said, kissing her again. “Ever since I was in high school.”
She smiled. “Thank you. That’s quite a compliment. I want you to leave me like this a lot.”
“That’s quite a compliment too,” he said, grinning.
“You have no idea,” she said again. Her eyes drifted closed.
By the time he walked out the door, she was asleep. His sperm, instead of draining out of her, drained deeper into her, pooling inside her womb. It wasn’t needed though. Two hours past, an egg, not quite out of her fallopian tube, had already been surrounded and defeated. By the time she woke, refreshed and starved, skipping to the kitchen to eat, naked and sticky with her lover’s extra spend coating her inner thighs, the chromosomes in the sperm and egg had merged, and the cell had changed in other ways, becoming, technically, a zygote. By the time, two days later, she put the sheets in the washing machine Bobby had repaired, cell division was taking place. In the time it took her to wash, dry and fold the sheets, that had happened three times. By the time she spread her legs for Bobby again, his baby had already attached to her utrine wall, and was drawing sustenance from her body.
She was still trying to get pregant, and didn’t realize that her desperate urge to become a mother had already been fulfilled.
Prudence felt a burst of excitement as Ted pulled up in his 1966 Chevy Nova station wagon. He was picking her up first, since she lived in town. She waited until he knocked, and then handed him her picnic basket and took his offered arm. At the car, he put her basket in with the pile of blankets and pillows in the back. He held the door for her, and watched as she eased into the front passenger seat. She was wearing a pale apricot colored silk blouse, and her hair was in a long French braid, that she had to pull to the side so she wouldn’t sit on it. Below the blouse was a skirt that came to just above her knees, and it rose to her thighs as she levered herself into the seat. Her hands pulled at it.
“Oh, please don’t,” said Ted, grinning as she looked up at him.
“My legs are getting fat,” she complained. “I’m running out of things to wear. Mirriam altered this skirt for me, putting a stretch panel in. I feel as big as a horse.”
“A thoroughbred, to be sure,” he said, the grin still on his face.
He went around and got in the driver’s seat.
“I didn’t see a swim suit,” he said, looking over at her.
“I’m wearing it under this,” she said. “Though I am nervous in the extreme about letting you see my huge body in it.”
“It is my opinion,” he said, starting the car, “that pregnant women are among the most beautiful women in the world.”
“I’m still amazed that you’d have anything to do with an unmarried pregnant woman,” she said, looking at him.
“Unmarried is the operative word here,” he said, pulling away from her house. “If the man who got you this way is so foolish as to abandon you, then he deserves to lose you.”
“He didn’t abandon me,” said Prudence, feeling an urge to defend Bobby. “He simply isn’t in a position to claim his baby.”
“I have no patience with married men who cheat,” said Ted darkly.
“I didn’t say he was married,” said Prudence.
“I don’t understand,” said Ted.
“I’m sure you don’t,” she said. “And your curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied. Just understand that I love this baby, and I love the man who gave him to me. I just can’t marry him. That’s all.”
“So he is still around?” probed Ted, looking ahead, and not at her. “Still in town, I mean?”
“Where are you taking us?” asked Prudence, making it obvious she was finished talking about the father of her baby.
“I went on safari,” he said proudly. “I found the loveliest little grassy bank, on a river, the name of which I am ignorant of. The beach is not sand, but it is small stones that won’t hurt tender feet, and it is at a point in the river where the water is lazy and looks fairly deep.”
“I haven’t been swimming in the river since I was a little girl,” sighed Prudence. “And the river is the Salt Creek.”
“It sure looks like a river to me,” said Ted.
“Most of the year resembles a river, but they called it Salt Creek, for some reason,” she said.
They pulled into Mirriam’s driveway to see three girls playing catch with a baseball in the yard. One of them ran to the house, and Mirriam had come out, holding her picnic basket by the time he got out of the car. She was wearing shorts and what looked like a man’s pullover shirt.
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