Accidental Gigolos

Accidental Gigolos

by Robert Lubrican

Bookapy Edition

Copyright 2024 Robert Lubrican

License Notes

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The right to use cover art was purchased at freepic.com

Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-one

************

Chapter One

Bobby Grisham was as ordinary as the day is long … except he wasn't ordinary at all.

Obviously, this sounds a little goofy, but stay with me for a few paragraphs and you'll understand.

He was ordinary in the sense that he was seventeen, would be a senior in high school when the next term started, and had a part time summer job to earn a little spending money. He still had a few customers from his early working days as a lawn-mower/weed-puller/fence-painter/anything-else-somebody-needed. He had two parents, a man and a woman, and they had been married a little over nineteen years. He was an only child, stood a hair over five feet, ten inches and weighed one hundred and ninety-five pounds. Most of that was muscle, thanks to his other summer job at a lumber company. He lived in an ordinary town with a population of eight thousand and some. He was between girlfriends because he didn't want things to get too serious before he figured out what he was going to do after high school. His grade point average was 3.25 and he still rode a bike most places because he was saving up for a car.

So, at first glance, he seemed ordinary.

That leads us to the not-ordinary-at-all part of things.

For one thing, Bobby had befriended the first and only black male who had ever been enrolled in the Pine Bluffs High School. Russell was also seventeen and his sister was the only other black student in the school. Bobby was virtually Russell's only friend because Russell's father was the Chief of Police and everybody assumed Russell would rat out any unsavory or illegal behavior; say, at a party or whatever. Nothing would have been further from the truth, but it didn't matter. Bobby was his only friend and they had become "best" friends.

That, alone, might not have made Bobby un-ordinary. After all, merely doing the right thing by ignoring skin color and seeing personalities instead isn't odd. It was a tad bit odd in Pine Bluffs, but only because there were almost no black residents. The town wasn't racist, by and large. Rather there were just no opportunities for the residents of a sleepy town, established in 1909, and which did not, back then, welcome any blacks, Chinamen, Irishmen, or lay-abouts. But more about the town later. These paragraphs are about Bobby Grisham.

The primary reason he wasn't "ordinary" was because, at the relatively tender age of seventeen, he'd had more sex than the average hard partying college senior, much less any of his high school peers. Not only was he very experienced, all that history wasn't with girls his age. Rather, in the roughly year and a half that he'd been learning how to be a superb lover, his instructors had been older women, two of whom were technically old enough to be his mother. The others were comfortable with him as a lover because high school wasn't all that far behind them.

Basically, back before he turned sixteen, Bobby Grisham had sex roughly twice a week during the school year, and three or four times a week during the following summer vacation. He had, eventually, been basically adopted by five women as what some might have called their personal gigolo, except they didn't pay him for his services. They paid him for the little odd jobs he did for them, but not for the sex.

That is what made Bobby unusual among his peers. He was unusual compared to most grown men, too, for that matter.

The way it started was that one of the five women had her twenty-eighth birthday and her husband forgot it completely. The boy who mowed her lawn, however, did not. He just happened to show up on the momentous day to keep her lawn at the three point five inches in length she preferred. She didn't exactly plan to seduce the then fifteen-and-a half-year-old. She was just very emotionally vulnerable that day and he was cute. She'd thought he was cute for a while. This was because she'd found out her husband had peculiar sexual interests. Among them, he wanted to have an open marriage. Not only that, he wanted her to go to swap parties with him. She had refused to do this (she found out about his desires a couple of years after the wedding) and her not-quite-four-year marriage had slowly died. It had been six months since she'd been intimate with her husband. She'd been thinking about getting a divorce before he forgot her birthday.

When the handsome, polite, attentive young man who took care of her yard knocked on her door and wished her a happy birthday, she invited him into the house. Somehow, over the next hour, things got more and more relaxed until the T shirt and terrycloth shorts she'd been wearing ended up on the floor. They landed on top of Bobby's shirt and jeans. Neither of them had been wearing any underwear. They were both astonished it had happened, but neither was sorry.

She was his first, and he acted like it. She remembered how quickly a teenager can recharge, though, and taught him how to be intimate emotionally, as well as sexually. The second time he lasted long enough that she could teach him how to make her cum - twice. The third time he left her in a limp puddle of very satisfied and sperm-soaked woman. In all, he'd been inside her house for three hours. Then, with a smile on his face, he went back outside and mowed her lawn. To his credit, when he was finished, he did not ask her if he could fuck her again. She had given him a gift and he did not abuse it. He charged her for mowing the lawn and went home.

Bobby knew nothing about the travails adult women go through in their emotional and sex lives. The only real attention he'd given older women, at that point, was to his teachers and to the minister's wife. The 'Mrs. Reverend' looked like a reformed porn star (to him) and he had much to feel guilty about every Sunday as the minister kept telling his flock their sins were forgiven. Usually, Bobby left church with another sin below his belt as he glanced at the woman and imagined her naked. Interestingly, that happened less and less because, over the next year and a half, there were other women in church whom he had seen naked. He had, in fact, done a lot more than just see them sans clothing. He had pushed his adolescent penis into their vaginas lustily and spilled his teenage spunk in them repeatedly. That … distracted him, shall we say ... from the MILF who was married to the preacher and who had borne him two children.

That jumps ahead of the story, though. How things progressed to that point is why this story is being written.

Trudy Carver was the woman who plucked Bobby's low-hanging cherry. She was never sorry she debauched him because the boy who didn't even have a driver's license yet gave her more emotional attention (and orgasms) than her husband had since they'd been married, three and a half years earlier. She was very particular about her yard and she 'hired' Bobby a lot. Two things happened that expanded his sexual life. One was that there is only so much that can be done to a pristine lawn, which meant Trudy didn't get to feel his lusty young prick pounding in her as often as either of them would have liked. The other was that all four of the other women in her "card club" noticed how upbeat she suddenly became.

"Card Club" is in quotes because it wasn't a formal club, but it was the excuse they used to get together once a week and escape the hum drum of life for a couple of hours. It was also an excuse to tipple a little wine before noon, too.

There was one exception to the wine and that was Sarah Cunningham, who was still nursing her children, one four years and the other eighteen months old. The four-year-old had enjoyed sucking his mamma's nipples so much that she couldn't wean him. When another baby came along, she just got loved by another precious little thing. Her problem was that her husband thought milky breasts were disgusting and he couldn't stand it if she leaked on him while they were having sex. He seemed not to want sex very often anyway and the only reason she had two babies was because the first was a boy and he wanted a daughter. He made her wear a bra when they had sex until she was pregnant again.

Another of her problems, as it would turn out, was that she thought because she was nursing she was not fertile. The very existence of the baby happily slurping on her left breast belied that old wives' tale but she didn't think about it like that. Logan hadn't touched her since his daughter had been born and, since she planned to breast feed both of her children until they were five, she assumed Logan wasn't going to touch her for roughly three and a half more years.

She was bemoaning this fact to the members of her social support group in the card club one Thursday afternoon and it wasn't the first time she'd complained. All the women complained to each other about the things that made them sad or unhappy or unsatisfied with their lives. That was part of what the card club was for. They'd known each other for more than three years, having established the informal group at a church picnic. Of course back then nobody talked about her sex life; not at first. There were plenty of other disappointments in their lives and as the cards sailed expertly across a table and were picked up the mood got more and more relaxed until, one day, things took a turn.

As it happened, it was Betty Wilshire who said what tipped the scales. She had been surly at the beginning of the game, which was unlike her. Betty was forty and the eldest of the members of the club. She had one child, a boy who was in college, and her husband worked for a company that specialized in doing corporate tax returns. Her home was nice and her life had always looked comfortable to the others. That's why it was odd when Cathy Brown asked, "What's wrong? You're acting like you had a fight with your best friend," and Betty blurted, "Oh, I don't know. I think I just need to get laid!"

She had not intended to say something like that. Of course this new subject of discussion was eagerly mined. The girls loved to gossip, but mostly about each other's lives and to each other as all of them tried to avoid getting the Queen of Spades in a trick.

"But you're married!" said Julie Tipper, the only single woman in the group. "You can get laid any time you want!"

All four of the other members of the club laughed – and not mirthful laughter – and the education of poor Julie commenced, concerning husbands and their foibles.

They already knew each other pretty well. Sex had been avoided in their discussions for two reasons. The first was that it wasn't polite to inquire about that aspect of another woman's life. If it came up you could discuss it, but no one ever brought that kind of thing up. The second was that all of them were embarrassed about their sex lives, or lack thereof. Women often feel like what ails them ails only them and they don't want their girlfriends to find out how fucked up their lives are. When that dam breaks and they find out everybody else's life is fucked up, too, a kind of catharsis takes place.

In this case, Betty, little by little, confessed that her husband had erectile dysfunction and that she hadn't had sex in over four years.

There were murmurs establishing how everyone present thought that was too bad.

"But he's so young!" murmured Sarah.

"He's thirty pounds overweight, smoked like a chimney for years until he finally quit two years ago, and has diabetes, as well as who knows what else," said Betty. "He brought this on himself and now we're both paying for it."

There was much commiseration but no solution to her problem was put forth – at least, not until the game was over, that day. As they went their separate ways Trudy casually addressed Betty and said, "If you have a second there's something I want to talk to you about." Betty did have a minute and Trudy beat around the bush until she finally whispered, "I might know how you could get laid … privately."

Betty was shocked, initially, and when she found out who Trudy was talking about she was even more shocked. First of all, the boy was only sixteen. More troubling than that, though, was that his mother was one of her church friends. The cat was out of the bag, though, and when the shock wore off and Trudy waxed almost poetic about how happy she was, Betty said, "I wondered why you didn't talk about your sex life during the confab we just had.

"I don't really have anything to be upset about," sighed Trudy.

"So … how does one go about arranging something like that?"

"I could introduce you to him," suggested Trudy.

"You mean say something like 'Bobby, this is Betty Wilshire and she needs to get laid. Do you think you could help her?'"

"Not like that," groaned Trudy. "He's due to work on my yard Saturday. Why don't you come over for tea around ten in the morning."

"Okay," said Betty, warily. "What, then?"

"I don't know. Just come over and be prepared to stay a while. And wear something comfortable."

"Comfortable?"

"Something you can take off easily and quickly," said Trudy, who had been blushing for five minutes, by then.

"This is insane," snorted Betty. "I can't just plan to cuckold my husband with a boy who isn't even out of high school!"

"You said Dan wishes things weren't like they are, right?"

"Yes. How does that matter?"

"You could ask him to give you permission to find what he can't give you … um … elsewhere?" Trudy's voice made a statement, but it sounded like a question.

"Ask my husband, the father of my twenty-year-old son, if I can dally with a teenager so I'm not so cripplingly horny anymore?"

"All he could say was no," moaned Trudy. "What have you got to lose?"

"My marriage, maybe?" snorted Betty, who still wasn't taking all of this seriously.

"Your very unhappy marriage," said Trudy, who had admitted to the group that she thought, more than occasionally, about divorcing her husband.

"Unhappy or not, I made my vows and I meant them. All that talk about leaving him is just blowing off steam."

"If you have permission, then your vows are still intact," argued Trudy.

"I love you," said Betty, "but this is just ridiculous."

"At least come over Saturday and meet him. Nothing has to be said about anything. Just talk to him. You'll see. He's such a delightful young man and I can't even begin to tell you how happy he's made me by filling in the same kind of blank space you have in your marriage."

"You are completely insane," said Betty. "Thank you, though. You lifted my spirits by making me smile. I'll see you later."

She had then walked to her car and gone home.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Trudy's … "proposal."

One reason she couldn't stop thinking about it was because Dan, her husband, had actually told her in a moment of anguished emotion that she should find another man who could give her what she needed … and what he couldn't give her. She had argued and they had cried together. She had sucked his soft dick, which was pleasurable for her, because he could actually cum that way if she sucked it just so.

But it always left her ragingly horny and he never could quite figure out how to return the favor in a manner that satisfied her fully. She had gone to a city an hour and a half drive away so she could survey an astonishing array of sex toys and choose two to take home. They helped, but they weren't warm, human flesh. She really did need to get laid.

And now there was an avenue she could stroll down to do that.

It wasn't a done deal in her mind, of course. It was more like that person who sees a sports car and thinks, 'That would be fun to own,' only to think 'But I can't afford it.' She had seen the young man, of course. His mother and she were members of a group that volunteered at the local food bank. She'd never talked to the boy. She hadn't really paid much attention to him.

And then there was Dan. His suggestion had been tearful and emotional, as had her tearful assurance that she loved him and wasn't going to try to replace him. But … had he really meant it?

If he had, then this crazy idea of Trudy's might not be so crazy after all.

Could she become that vulnerable to a sixteen-year-old boy? Didn't boys brag about their conquests? If it came out that she'd cheated on her husband with a teenager her life would be ruined. Dan's life would be ruined.

But she still couldn't stop thinking about it.

Which was why, that night, she sucked her husband's limp prick until it dribbled semen and he groaned his appreciation. Then she cuddled with him, which was something he could do really well, and asked, "Did you mean it when you said I should find another man to … help me?"

She was amazed when he panted, "It would have to be the right man. And he would have to be very discreet."

"Really?"

"I love you, Honey, and it kills me that I can't hear you make those noises you made when I could still … do that with you. We'd just have to be really careful about it. That's my only concern."

"I'll think about it," she said. "I love you so much!"

"That is why I'm not worried that some other man will steal you away from me," he said, squeezing her.

Then he went down on her and gave her the only kind of orgasm he still could. It wasn't anything to write home about, but it was an orgasm.

The next morning, after Dan had gone to work, Betty had called Trudy.

"Is that offer of tea still on the table?" she asked.

"Yes!" gasped her friend.

"I'll see you at ten. But this doesn't mean anything is going to happen."

"Of course," said Trudy. "You'll be glad you came."

************

Betty felt like she was a voyeur of some kind. She and Trudy were peeking between a set of curtains, watching a high school student pushing a lawnmower carefully around Trudy's yard. He was shirtless in the summer heat and had on ragged cut-off jeans shorts. His feet were in a pair of grass-stained tennis shoes. All in all, he was the very picture of virile, attractive young male. Part of what bothered her was that her son was away in college and was quite likely engaged in making some girl … or possibly woman … squeal in the same way she wished she was squealing. What would he say if he knew what she was contemplating?

What he might have said, if he had all the facts, was, "You're a MILF, Mom, and if Dad's on board, you deserve to be happy."

He would never have any of the facts, however. Only Dan … and Trudy … would be aware of her … "affair"?

"He's so gorgeous," sighed Trudy. She was so unrepentant about what she said she did with this boy that it was a little communicable, and Betty felt a very familiar dampness begin to collect in her vagina.

"He is," she admitted. "I still don't know how this could … um … work out." She had already told Trudy she did, in fact, have permission to … stray. Since Trudy had made herself so vulnerable by admitting what she did with Bobby, Betty felt it was necessary for her to become vulnerable as well. It was only fair. And it further cemented their friendship.

"We'll think of something," said Trudy.

************

What "they" thought of was eerily like Betty's previously sarcastic comment, when she had imitated Trudy and said, "Bobby, this is Betty Wilshire and she needs to get laid. Do you think you could help her?"

When Bobby came into the front door he was still shirtless. If he was sweating heavily he sometimes took a shower in Trudy's bathroom before mounting his lover and rutting in her, giving her very welcome orgasms with his stiff, adolescent penis. Today he was sweating heavily, but he looked at Trudy with one eyebrow raised.

"This is my friend, Betty," said Trudy. "She's a very good friend. You look like you could use a shower."

"Um … yeah," he said. He looked at Betty. "It's nice to meet you, Ma'am."

"Betty walked all the way over here to visit me and she got all sweaty, too," said Trudy. "Maybe you could share the shower with her … you know … to save water?"

Bobby wasn't stupid. His GPA didn't reflect his level of intelligence. He understood immediately that this new woman knew about what he and Trudy did. If Trudy was suggesting something like that, then she believed nothing bad would happen. And the woman was beautiful in the same way a classic muscle car that has been kept in tip top shape. She still made a man's heart race.

"Trudy!" gasped the new woman, clearly shocked.

"I'd like that very much," said Bobby. "I think saving water is a good thing."

"Trudy?" Betty's voice cracked a little as she looked at her friend.

"Go take a shower. You both need one."

If Bobby hadn't extended his hand, inviting her to take it, she might have fled, but his calm, gentlemanly demeanor, and dark eyes she felt like she could just fall into, made her stay. Trudy stayed where she was, which also helped. As soon as they got into Trudy's bedroom, though, she pulled her hand away.

"I don't do this!" she gasped.

"You don't take showers?" He was still calm.

"I think you know what I mean," she said.

"Trudy gets a little carried away, sometimes," he said. "She means well. I don't know why she thinks this needs to happen but all it has to be is a shower if that's all you want."

It was his characterization of the situation being one in which she could choose things that made her keep staying. She had choices. And he was allowing her to opt out if that's what she wanted. Or to opt for … something … something less than what Dan had told her she could do.

"Just a shower?" she whispered.

"I'd love that," he said.

Then he took his shorts off and Betty saw what Dan had said she could have.

************

"I've never done this before," she whined. She was naked, in a shower stall with a boy she didn't actually know, who had the biggest penis she'd ever seen outside a porn site. He had brought her hands to slide all over his body, spreading soap everywhere. Only after she had touched him did he reach to slide soapy hands around her body. She was surprised that he didn't immediately grab for her breasts. She was proud of her breasts, which were still firm and shapely, with very little sag to them. When Dan tried to make her feel good he gave her a lot of nipple love before sucking her clitty until her sexual tension was released. But Bobby only washed her. They both knew she didn't need to be washed. The fact that he didn't grope her made her actually feel a little more relaxed. It was extremely intimate, but it felt like acceptable intimacy, somehow.

When her hand ran into his penis it was still hard. It was hard for her. She couldn't keep her hand from grasping it and she moaned at the semi-familiar feel of a stiff prick in her hand. It felt a little different because he was uncircumcised and the extra skin smoothed his prod, somehow.

Only after she touched him did he wash her breasts. Her hand tightened on his penis and suddenly his face was right in front of hers.

"I really want to kiss you," he said.

"Okay," she whimpered.

She knew she was lost because his lips communicated a raw male hunger she hadn't seen or felt for more than a decade. As soon as she kissed him, she knew she'd end up in bed with him.

He still didn't rush her as he dried her off, almost massaging her with a towel while he ignored the water drops on his own skin. He knelt to dry her legs and she had to step sideways with one leg as the towel slid up toward her pussy. He leaned forward and kissed her mons; just a little, loving peck. Then he stood up, sucking each nipple gently on his way. She moaned as he did that and shuffled her feet.

"I don't want to push things," he said, with his face just an inch from hers, "but I really want to take you to bed and I'm pretty sure Trudy won't mind if we used hers."

"Ohhhh," she moaned.

"Is it too fast? Do I need to stop?"

She swallowed. If he stopped now she was pretty sure she'd have a breakdown.

"I've never done this before," she whispered.

"Sure you have. You have a son," he said.

"I mean had an affair," she said.

"If it bothers you, then we won't do it," he said.

"My husband said I could!" she blurted.

"What?"

She felt shame and blushed hotly, but the cat was out of the bag.

"He can't … um … get hard anymore. He knows I need that, and he said I could cheat on him if I wanted to."

"It isn't cheating if you have permission … right?"

"It's not that simple," she moaned. "I barely know you. Your mother and I volunteer together! I've never done this!"

"Do you want to do this?" His question sounded completely sane and reasonable, so she answered in the same manner.

"Yes. I think I'll go crazy if I don't."

He hugged her, then, and his stiff penis pressed into her abdomen. His hug was warm and firm, with no hint of sexuality in it, barring the being naked part.

"Let's go lie down and rest," he said. "We can talk. We can talk about anything and I'll never tell anyone what you tell me … or whatever we do."

"Yes," she sighed. "We can just lie down."

************

Trudy had enjoyed almost a year of being loved by Bobby. That's what it felt like to her. He wasn't in love with her but he loved to make her happy. They had spent hours engaged in pillow talk, between episodes, and he had learned – some of it by osmosis – how a woman felt about the world she was trapped in. He knew Trudy's situation well and while he knew all women were different, he also knew they shared some concerns. One of those concerns was about being used as a receptacle for a man's pleasure when the man did not return the favor. He didn't know what Betty's situation was, other than that she had a weird husband, but he knew Trudy craved having his honest interest in her as a person. The sex was actually the frosting on top. She needed to be loved, as a human being first, and as a sexual partner next.

He hoped Betty would feel the same way.

And she would have reacted very well to his honest interest in her as a woman, even as young as he was, but he never got the chance to woo her in that way. Not this time, anyway.

That was because, once they were lying on the bed, not quite touching, and he kissed her again, something broke inside her and a tsunami of frustration and separation overwhelmed her and she pulled him on top of her to protect her from the crashing wave of unhappiness. She wasn't actively thinking of getting him in her. She wasn't actively thinking of anything, actually. She was just reacting, letting instinct tell her what to do.

Trudy had trained him well. He needed no hand to aid his penis in finding her slick entrance. When the tip felt the heat he just eased himself into her until his pubic bone bounced gently off of hers. He added a little roll of his hips to abuse her clit and moaned, "Ohhhh, I love this," in her ear.

Bobby Grisham owned her in that moment, as he gave her exactly what she needed. Later she'd look at him, astonished that she had let a boy that young become so intimate with her. But she would also always feel the pull of being with him again. Part of her knew that as soon as he penetrated her and gave that little hip wiggle. She had what could be called a cataclysmic orgasm. It was cathartic as well as delicious. She'd craved this feeling for so long that it felt like finding an old friend after years of separation. It also made her weak and she fell limp, sobbing in release as he began to move in a more expected way. When he paused, obviously aware she was crying, she hugged him and told him to keep going; that she was fine.

She wasn't fine. She was already addicted. He was long and thick and he stretched her perfectly. Every part of what he did to her made her feel like she'd finally gotten out of the desert, and was having her first sip of cool water after weeks of almost dying of thirst. And then he'd go in deep and grind and another orgasm would rush toward her. She wouldn't have been able to stop those orgasms if she tried. But she didn't try to resist. She welcomed each one and he did everything perfectly … save one thing.

When she heard his groan and felt the thing in her throb, followed by the ball of heat that exploded in her belly, she knew he was cumming in her.

She wasn't on birth control. She didn't need birth control, because she didn't do this.

"Nooo," she whined. She was forty and the last thing she needed was another baby in her life.

"You shouldn't have cum in me," she chastised, as she engaged in pillow talk with the stranger she couldn't do without.

"I didn't know that. Trudy always wants me to shoot inside her, unless she's sucking me and wants to swallow it."

He sounded so innocent, and yet his performance suggested he was ten years older than his chronological age.

"Getting pregnant right now would be a terrible thing," she said.

"Why?"

"Why? Because I already had a child. He's grown and gone. I'm forty years old and supposed to be enjoying my freedom, not changing diapers."

"You sure don't look forty," was his only reply. "I would have said you were maybe twenty-eight."

"I see why Trudy wants you in her life so much," she said, wryly.

"Are you ready to go again?" he asked.

She looked at his groin and there it was, a stiff prick that was all hers, at least for the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone more than once a day.

She got another half dozen orgasms. And, since the damage was already done, she got to hear that electrifying groan and feel that ball of warmth in her belly again.

She only got dressed and left to avoid letting him do it a third time.

She gave Trudy a fervent hug on the way out and said, "I don't know how to thank you."

"I'll think of something," said her friend, grinning.

"He's lying in there with an erection," whispered Betty.

"Ohhh, good. I was hoping you wouldn't use him all up."

************

Now two of the five had Bobby at their disposal. Over the next month Betty's relationship with him blossomed to the point that she found out her husband was a little kinky. He wanted to meet this young man who made his wife so much happier. He covered his face in embarrassment when he admitted he wanted to watch her get 'serviced' and hear those sounds he missed. He could rub his 'handicapped' penis, sitting in the dark, as the young man mounted his wife and she spread her legs in eager welcome. He wasn't the slightest bit jealous.

Bobby didn't mind. He was too young and innocent to think of all the ways it could have gone wrong. Twice the older man had an orgasm while he watched Bobby work Betty over.

To her surprise, Betty found that she only needed Bobby every other week after that. She spent more time sucking Dan's limp organ, just having fun, while he licked and sucked her vulva, or rubbed her to completion. Those 'less than perfect' sessions were no longer frustrating, because she knew she could have Bobby when she needed him.

The next to be initiated into the "new" cabal was Julie Tipper. She was twenty-five, overweight, and plain looking. She had never, in fact, even been on a date. Both Trudy and Betty knew this, of course, and they both thought Bobby might be the answer to Julie's problems. They talked to him about her and he said he'd be glad to help.

It was good for both of them. It was good for Bobby because he recognized why men had no interest in her but made himself get to know her until her outward appearance melted into something he only noticed incidentally. She was funny and fun to be around and craved the honest attention of a man. She had huge breasts and he concentrated on being excited about those until he found himself looking forward to mating with her like he mated with his other two lovers. He thought of it as mating. Part of that was because Trudy was thinking about letting him impregnate her because if she got pregnant her husband would know it wasn't his and divorce her. When it came to Betty, Dan got excited about the idea of another man making life in her womb. He didn't come right out and say that because he thought Betty would react negatively. He liked Bobby at this point so what he did do was ask her not to avoid having dangerous sex. He said it excited him immensely if the sex she had with Bobby was "dangerous." She thought he was crazy, but she acceded to his request unless she thought she was actually ovulating.

With Julie, Bobby imagined those bounteous breasts making gallons of milk to feed one of his children. Somehow, the concept of him having children – and by different women – had sunk into his subconscious and overwhelmed the common sense that should have told him it was insanity to get any of these women pregnant, much less all three. Julie was practically beside herself to receive the attention she never had, before. She knew it was merely playacting. Betty and Trudy had proposed everything to her. She had agreed because she was convinced she'd die a virgin. So she believed Bobby's interest was only feigned, but that was enough. And then she realized that he really did care for her, had grown to like her and liked pleasing her. She had blossomed as a result and become a new woman. She was still fat (her own characterization) but she didn't let it eat at her anymore. Almost unconsciously she began to eat better and her better mood encouraged her to get more exercise. As anyone who exercises seriously and regularly will tell you, it becomes addictive and you don't feel "right" if you miss a day. Julie was addicted to two things: exercising and Bobby.

Her new attitude was impossible to miss and the remaining two (uninitiated) card players plied her with questions.

They were all friends. They all trusted each other. Each had shared some deep, dark secret.

The three initiates proposed a fantasy world in which Cathy Brown and Sarah Cunningham could have what they currently did not.

Cathy and Sarah were just as desperate as their three compatriots. They would have laughed at the idea if the other three hadn't sworn it was true.

And Bobby was willing, of course.

************

Cathy Brown was thirty-one, married, and childless. She wasn't childless from lack of trying, at least in years past. She'd been married for thirteen years during which they knew something was wrong because he just couldn't get her pregnant. They couldn't afford the very expensive ways of alleviating that issue and since her husband thought it must be her fault, he had an affair with another woman and got her pregnant. He didn't know Cathy was aware of this bastard child, but she was. And she had revenge in her heart. She didn't think of it as trying to let a different man breed her. She just wanted to have her own affair so the playing field was leveled. Her problem was that she thought there was no one in Pine Bluffs she could have an affair with and be assured nobody would ever find out.

Trudy, Betty, and Julie had the answer to her dilemma.

Cathy was slim and felt like she was flat. She wore 34 B cup bras, when she wore a bra at all. She had short hair that was black. Bobby thought she looked like a pixie and when he was able to be alone with her the first time he did something purely by instinct. They had not touched each other but both knew why they were alone in Betty's family room, on a big couch that could be used as a bed. What he did was tell her exactly what he wished he could do with her. She sat, looking at a gorgeous young man who was literally half her age, yet who described things she'd never engaged in before because neither she nor her husband had ever thought of them.

Like him sitting on a straight-backed chair as she lowered herself onto him, impaling herself while he tried to get her mere swells of breasts to lactate.

By the time he'd spent fifteen minutes saying the most outrageous things, she no longer noticed his age. Now she was amazed at his knowledge of things sexual. It was like he'd read the Kama Sutra – not that she'd read it, but how she imagined it might read. Her panties were also damp.

When he said he was hot and asked her if she minded if he took some of his clothing off, she said he could. She wasn't quite prepared for him to take all his clothes off. He was hard, which proved what he'd been saying was not just male bragging.

He had sucked her nipples until she literally screamed and pulled him on top of her. Like the others, she was stretched, and like the others she got what she desperately needed. Her husband had ignored her pretty much completely for over a year, spending more and more time with the other woman and his child. She couldn't find out more about this child; just that he was actually listed on the birth certificate as the father. And she knew the woman wasn't married. But that was all.

With Bobby she felt desired, wanted, and appreciated. The breasts she'd always thought were too small became one of the favorite parts of her body. When she knew she was going to get to spend time with him she got so horny she'd squeeze her nipples until they were turgid and sensitive. Then she'd bare them to him and her first orgasm would come from just him sucking them.

And, like the others, with the exception of Julie, she disregarded worrying about impregnation. Eventually her desire to become a mother would push back to the front and she would actively try to conceive. That would turn out very differently than she imagined.

************

Sarah Cunningham was the last to join the "We love to be fucked by Bobby" club, even though it wasn't called that. Sarah was twenty-five and the mother of two children, as previously mentioned. She had very specific beliefs about breastfeeding and she wanted her children to have the best possible start in life. That her husband was too stupid to appreciate what she was doing didn't change how she felt about it. And when given the unspoken ultimatum of "Stop producing milk or go without sex" the choice was difficult, but could only come down on one side of the issue. She was a mamma lion and she loved her cubs. The old male who had gotten her pregnant twice could go do whatever old males did.

Like Cathy, she had wished she should get some sex from another source. Also like Cathy, she knew of no suitable candidate.

As Betty had, she thought the idea of letting a sixteen-year-old boy between her legs was ridiculous. She agreed to meet him only to get the others off her back and because they all promised nothing would happen unless she wanted it to happen.

What broke the barrier in Sarah's case was that she brought her children with her. Again the chosen place was Betty's house. Her husband was malleable to her asking him to "go somewhere for a few hours" and she had the biggest house. In this case, Betty became "Auntie Betts" and took four-year-old Reggie away to read him stories and let him watch Netflix for kids while Sarah breastfed her daughter, Emily, in front of Bobby. She was used to her husband's disgust with her nursing in public and made some assumptions about how Bobby would react in the same way. He'd lose interest. Problem solved.

That plan suffered blows from the get-go. When she bared a fat, brown nipple and Emma latched on, he said, "That's really beautiful. I've never seen a woman feeding her baby."

"Oh," she said, not prepared to hear something like that.

"Hey, listen," he went on, "I know you're not excited about all this. Your friends mean well but I don't want you to feel any pressure of any kind. If all we do is talk I'll still have a good time."

"Really?" She sounded hopeful. Then he landed another blow.

"Well, there is one thing."

"What?" she asked, warily.

"I don't want you to get mad at me for saying it," he said, seeming to withdraw.

"Why don't you let me decide if I'll get angry or not?" she said.

"Okay. Well, besides talking, I really wish I could … um … get a little taste?"

She blinked. Awareness slammed into her like a man on a bicycle.

"What?" she grunted.

"Never mind. I know that's crazy intimate. It's just that it looks so beautiful and she looks so happy I can't help but wonder what your milk tastes like. My mom breastfed me, but of course I don't remember what that was like."

"You want to taste … me?"

"Like I said. Never mind. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You didn't offend me," she said. "You surprised me."

"Oh," he said. That was all he said.

"In fact, I'd say you astonished me," she said. Emily was full and spat the nipple out. All she'd done was snack because it was mid-morning and Emily was only nursing three times a day. Sarah knew that if Reggie wasn't still sucking, she'd have to pump to ease the ache of being overfilled. Her husband thought pumping was disgusting, too.

"Why?" he asked. "Because I'm curious?"

"My husband thinks my milk is disgusting," she said.

Bobby already knew this. He had planned this whole avenue of attack. He didn't know if it would work or not but he was actually curious about what milk from a woman's breast would taste like.

"Then he's an idiot," said Bobby, firmly. "A mother's milk is the most pure and beautiful thing on Earth."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes. But I know it's too intimate to ask for what I did. I'm really sorry."

"Actually, unless I go get my son to finish emptying me, I'll begin to feel pain," she said.

"Do you want me to go get him for you?" Bobby offered.

"No. It would spoil his lunch."

"What do you need to do, then? Do I need to leave?"

Her decision was made in the same snap way that Betty's had. The relief of being validated as a nursing mother was so palpable that it moved her outside the bounds of propriety.

"No. Do you really want to … taste?"

"Very much," said Bobby.

"I suppose a little taste might be all right," she said. "I mean you may be a father some day and it would be good for you to know what's going on."

Somehow Julie, who was also visiting Betty on this day, knew to come in and take Emily.

"I'll just go change her diaper. You two go on with whatever you were doing."

Sarah watched her go, fully aware that she had just been sitting there with her breast exposed, or at least the tip of her breast. Julie had not reacted to that.

"I don't know how to go about it," he said, without moving. "You can't hold me in your arms."

"Reggie lies across my lap and I support his shoulders," she said. "We could try that."

She left her breast exposed while he moved to lie down on the couch with just his head on her lap. He faced her and had to bend his knees to get his feet on the couch. A little scooting around put her lap under his arm pit and arranged his face in front of her bare breast. She looked down as he looked up, instead of touching her breast.

"Thank you for this," he said, softly.

"You're welcome," she said. "Be gentle, please."

Bobby knew how to be gentle. But he'd also sucked many a nipple as if he hoped he could coax milk out of it. When he latched on and gave a few tentative sucks, the ease with which his mouth was flooded with sweet, warm taste shocked him. It caused him to suck harder and her arm, under his head, tightened as she moaned, "Ohhhh, not too hard!"

Sarah, for her part, was completely unprepared for how this felt. She was used to her kids being very utilitarian about drinking from her breasts. She always loved the intimacy of nursing and she was glad she was doing it. It was a hassle sometimes, but she was still glad.

But this! This was crazy! It felt nothing like when her children drank. This was purely sexual in a way she'd never felt before. It felt almost like the relief of finally being able to empty a complaining bladder. But her bladder would be empty in thirty seconds or so. She hoped this would go on for a long, long time. It was like she could actually feel the streams of milk leaving her body, shooting out into his sucking mouth.

He paused long enough to grin up at her and say, "This is fantastic! Your babies are so lucky they get to do this!"

And then he went back to sucking and she began to be worried she might actually have an orgasm from what he was doing.

She felt the sudden stop of flow. That part was just like when Reggie got the last milk out of one breast.

"You need to switch," she panted, automatically.

She had pulled up one side of her T shirt and opened the flap of her nursing bra to feed Emily. Now she fumbled, pulling the shirt up and over her head completely. "Wait a second," she gasped and as she leaned forward he rolled his head back. She reached behind her and expertly unclipped her bra. She almost threw it to one side as one of his hands captured her bouncing breast and he brought his lips to the nipple. He massaged the breast as the streaks of pleasure shot to her abandoned pussy.

"Ohhh no!" she whined. "Oh please!"

He did not stop. When the orgasm finally crashed into her she felt weak and her head dropped back onto the backrest of the couch. Every bit of energy leached out of her into his mouth, until he finally stopped and kissed the nipple.

"I don't taste anything, now," he said. "That was so delicious. I hope I didn't steal too much."

"I'll make more," she moaned.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her breast again. His mouth moved up and onto her throat. Her head rolled back forward and his lips were right there. She could never remember later if he kissed her or she kissed him, but it didn't matter. She could taste her milk on his lips and the kiss became passionate and full of longing almost instantly. Five or ten kisses later he let her breathe.

"You're so beautiful," he said. "You look beautiful and you taste beautiful. I wish I could see the rest of you."

She stared into his eyes.

"I know what you want to do to me," she panted.

"What I want to do with you," he said. He kissed her chin. "We're in this thing together."

"I don't know what to do," she moaned.

"Let me love you a little," he said. "I'll stop after you have one orgasm, if you want me to."

"You already made me have an orgasm," she groaned.

"Okay, then, one more orgasm. What do you say? Let's be naked together and cuddle."

She hadn't heard those words in three years. She still believed that Emily was only there because her husband was smashed one night with his friends and was horny when he came home. He still made her wear a bra, but he had fucked her full of his semen.

"Just one?" she whined.

"If that's all you want," he said.

He gave her that orgasm with his mouth. Her clit was fat and long enough he could actually nip it with his teeth if he was careful. She was afraid the other women would hear her scream and come running, and she didn't think she could bear having them see her like this, stark naked, legs spread obscenely while a boy she didn't even know sucked her pussy. Nobody came, though, and she was able to let the orgasm proceed normally. He seemed to know when to stop torturing her clit. He kissed his way up and over the belly she had worked hard to flatten again after Emily had been born. His lips were the first to kiss that flat belly. They moved on, bypassing her empty breasts, to weld to her lips again. This time the kiss was warm and gentle.

He lifted his head and looked down. She did, too, and saw his prick hanging there, just above her happy pussy. It was only two inches away from her.

"Can I go in you just a little?" he asked.

She giggled.

"I know what you mean by 'a little'. If you'll recall you only wanted a little taste of my milk, and you emptied both breasts completely. I can only imagine what 'a little' means with that, down there."

"It means I'll only go in for as much and as long as you want me to," he said.

"Liar," she said. "You want to fuck me."

"Very, very much," he admitted.

She reached for his fat prick and pulled it toward her vulva.

************

Sarah lay on the couch, relaxed and unashamed as he stood over her and got dressed.

"You really are beautiful and I really do love the taste of your milk," he said.

"Yes, we can do this again," she sighed. "I know you want to."

"Very, very much," he said, with a little grin. "I hope I left something for Emily and Reggie."

"I make a lot because they need a lot. They'll be fine."

"Call me anytime you have excess and are sore," he said.

"Like you'd come immediately."

"I will if I can," he said.

Somehow she knew he was being truthful.

And, just like that, the circle was complete, and the "Card Club" morphed into the "Bobby Club."

Their journey was not over, yet. With five women wanting time with him, as well as having his part time job and having to show up at home to be a normal son, it began to take a toll on him. He didn't suffer. He was just more tired when his head hit the pillow every night. And, like Sarah's breasts produced as much milk as feeding her children (and Bobby, occasionally) required, his balls supplied as much semen as was required. That took energy, too.

Basically, Bobby needed a little help.

And he had a good idea for where to find it.

Chapter Two

"Dude!" said Bobby as he bumped shoulders with his best friend. "We haven't been hanging out much."

"It's not because I'm too busy," said Russell Jackson. "I've been hanging around home all summer, with nothing to do."

That wasn't entirely true and they both knew it. They'd gone swimming a dozen times over the summer, and gone together to climb the local "mountain" where, history said, a Civil War battle had been fought. That was one of the few times the difference in their races had been discussed. They imagined men, fighting each other, trying to kill each other, just so some of those men could own other human beings.

Russell had adopted his father's outlook on race and racism in America. More than once Russell had heard his father addressing another black man and say, "Look, if you could go in a time machine and bring any slave from 1850 here, what he'd see would blow his mind. Yes, there are problems to solve, but don't say the black man is oppressed. Some black men may be oppressed, but most of us oppress ourselves by our attitudes."

Then the conversation (argument) would usually go on. Russell had never cared about all that until his father moved them to a town where there were only twelve black people in the whole population, not counting his family of four. All the others were grownups, which meant Russell and his sixteen-year-old sister, Teri, were the only students of color at Pine Bluffs High. Teri had no problem, or at least said she didn't. She was popular and was welcomed on the cheer squad, since she already knew five times as much about acrobatics as any of the other girls on the squad. She was popular with the boys, too, but everyone in their family knew that was because of the novelty of being with a black girl, and not because of any real interest in getting to know her. She didn't care. She got taken on dates and had a good time. Their parents didn't worry about her virtue. Russell got the idea that his parents were actually relieved at getting away from the black culture of the big city, instead of missing it.

Their dad had expected pushback from the white officers on the police force when the town fathers hired him to be the Chief, instead of promoting one of those who had already served Pine Bluffs. He had used the unheard of approach of arranging for the sheriff to patrol Pine Bluffs for a week while the police force went camping. It was a training/bonding kind of thing where his men got to know him under circumstances where there were no civilians around to hinder. Whisky flowed at night around the camp fire and during the days Beaufort Jackson taught them policies and techniques nobody else had even thought to offer to them in the past. When the week was over there was grudging respect for the big black man and things were calm. Pine Bluffs was a sleepy little town and most of the excitement they had was caused by drunks or outsiders who came to steal copper or whatever else of value they could burgle. Two residents of Oberlin, twenty miles down the road, had been caught in the act. A state highway went through Pine Bluffs, which meant there was a lot of traffic through town and, occasionally, the force might be called on to assist some other office or agency.

So things were okay with the Jackson clan, for the most part, and Russell was looking forward to his last year of high school, so he could go to college or join the military, one of the two. And Bobby had been a good friend. Life is always a little better if you have a good friend, or two.

What Russell Jackson didn't know, yet, was that his best friend was going to make his life a lot better, depending on one's perspective. It would be a lot more complicated, without a doubt, and Russell would benefit from it in ways he would never have contemplated. But it also had the possibility for ruin, and not just the ruin of one young black man in rural America.

************

Bobby's life had been so unusual at that point that it is perhaps no surprise that what he chose to do next was unusual, too. He'd spent hours and hours with Russell and knew how Russell felt about almost anything, including women. While his sister went on a plethora of dates, Russell did not. Whenever he asked a girl out she either already had plans or there was some other reason to say no. This was not because no girls were interested in Russell Jackson. It was because their parents weren't interested in their daughter being out, unsupervised, with an African-American boy.

Russell knew this. He'd even been told about it by a few girls who felt sorry for him. Bobby knew that Russell was a virgin and hadn't been involved with a girl here on any level, although he did have a little experience before their move to Pine Bluffs. Here he'd had sex with his hand, like just about any other teenage boy, but that was all. Bobby was pretty sure Russell would jump at the chance to have sex if he thought he could get away with it, and Bobby knew some women who were more interested in being sexually satisfied than the color of the man satisfying them. At least he thought so. If at least two of them accepted the idea of bringing Russell into the program, that would ease Bobby's 'burden' a lot.

He approached Julie about it first. He chose her because she was the hungriest of the bunch. She'd been trying to make up for 25 years of nothing and was extremely appreciative of the only man she knew about who genuinely thought she was pretty. Bobby thought Russell, as an outsider of sorts, might be able to understand her situation and empathize with it.

He did not discuss this with his friend, which could have worked out very badly. That, too was a product of how Bobby assumed that his friend would have the same interest in all the women as Bobby had developed. It would have been a little arrogant except Bobby actually believed he and Russell had the same tastes.

He was right about Julie. By now he and she had the kind of relationship most men and women never have. That was friendship of the deep and abiding kind, where people who know them assume there's some hanky panky going on, even if there isn't. It's very difficult to have a good friend of the opposite gender if either or both are married to someone else. Bobby and Julie could do it because neither of them was married and neither wanted to be married.

The point is that one afternoon, as they lay catching their breath after having made love, and Bobby asked, "Would you ever think about doing this with somebody besides me?" Her answer was, "Of course I'd be interested. But it will never happen."

"What if it could happen?" he probed.

"Just tell me what's on your mind, Bobby," she said.

"I have a friend, a close friend, and I know he'd love to be where I am right now. He's never had sex and he's like you. He doesn't think he ever will."

"So he's fat and ugly," she said.

"He is neither," said Bobby. "There are … other issues."

"I assume he's your age," she said.

"Yes. He's my best friend."

She blinked.

"But your best friend is …" She didn't finish.

"Russell Jackson," said Bobby.

"As in the son of the Chief of Police?" Julie was an assistant manager at the Taco Bell in town so she got to see practically the entire population of Pine Bluffs over the course of a month.

"Yes," said Bobby. "You see why his prospects are slim?"

"I do," she said. "Let me think."

He let her think and a good three or four minutes went by.

"I am not horrified by the idea," she finally said. "I've seen him around. He's kind of cute. Not cute like you, but cute."

"I can set something up," said Bobby.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because the Card Club is about to kill me," he said.

"It's not called the Card club anymore," she said.

"What's it called?"

"Never mind. We didn't know we were wearing you out."

"There are five of you, Julie," he groaned.

"If I had to take care of five horny men I wouldn't complain," she said.

He just looked at her.

"Okay, okay. I'm not opposed. How would this work?"

"I'll bring him with me to mow your lawn and then have to leave before it's finished. He'll have to finish and you can work your magic on him."

"I have magic?"

"Julie, I know you don't believe this, but some day – if it hasn't happened already - some guy is going to look at you and get as stiff as a board. He's going to pant after you until you let him in and then you're going to wear him out."

"You're right. I don't believe you." She frowned. "Next Saturday? It's getting late in the season and the grass won't need mowing much longer."

"If Saturday doesn't work I'll call you," he said.

************

Bobby couldn't figure out a way to broach the subject to Russell about becoming a guy who serviced two or three or even five women, sexually. So he called Julie and told her they were just going to wing it. She said, "I can't imagine anything could go wrong, so what the hell."

He asked Russell to help him do a yard on Saturday and Russell agreed, having nothing else to do. The yardwork went quickly and when everything was finished he told Russell to come with him to collect.

They were approaching the back porch when Julie came out and stood, waiting.

"I can't stay, today," said Bobby, when Julie came out on the porch. "My mom says I have to go to this thing this afternoon and I have to get a haircut first and all that crap."

"I'm disappointed," said Julie. Her voice was flat. "I assume this is one of your friends?" she asked, glancing at Russell, who was still trying to figure out what Bobby meant by "stay today."

"Yes. He's my best friend," said Bobby.

"Your bestie?" Julie clarified. "Does that mean I can be myself around him?"

"Absolutely," said Bobby.

She looked at Russell and said, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" asked Russell.

"Do Black men have bigger schlongs?"

"That's kind of racist, don't you think?" suggested Bobby.

"Is it?" she said, looking at Russell.

"Yeah, it is," said the black young man whose penis was being discussed, "or at least most people would say so, but don't feel bad. About a zillion white women wonder about that."

"So, back to my original question, then. Is it true?"

"Nobody's ever seen it to give me an opinion," said Russell, shrugging. He did not feel threatened by the overweight woman who was being so forward with him. Had she been gorgeous he might have had some self-confidence issues, but her "normalness" made what she was doing also seem normal, somehow.

"I could give you an opinion," said Julie.

Russell looked at Bobby.

"Wow," said the dark-skinned boy.

"She and I have a kind of special relationship," said Bobby. "I've never talked to you about that."

"You better not have talked to anybody about that," said Julie.

"I haven't," said Bobby, his voice almost a whine. "Russell wouldn't know about it if you could control your sex drive."

"You guys have sex?" asked Russell, wonder in his voice.

"What's wrong? Do you think fat girls shouldn't be able to have sex?"

"I wouldn't call you fat," said Russell. "Healthy, yes. Robust, maybe. Stocky, perhaps, but not fat. It would be rude to call you fat."

"Just like it would be rude to ask a black kid whose name you don't even know if he has a big dick," said Bobby, with sarcasm in his voice.

"His name is Russell," said Julie. "He's your best friend and now he knows about you and me. I'd say we already have a relationship, or at least the beginnings of one."

Bobby stared at her. Julie had always been crazy in bed. He thought it was because he was the only guy who paid attention to her in that way, but he didn't know that for a fact. Maybe she was just highly sexed. Some of the other women were pretty highly sexed. All he knew was she usually needed to cum at least six times before she'd let him go. He held up one finger.

"One moment. Let me converse with my associate," said Bobby.

He pulled Russell twenty feet away and put his friend between him and Julie, so she couldn't see his face.

"Okay, here's the deal," said Bobby. "I fuck her pretty regularly. I'll tell you how that came to be later. The thing is she has this crazy strong sex drive and I usually stay after I mow her yard and spend a few hours in bed with her."

"A few hours?" gasped Russell. "As in multiples of sixty minutes?"

"Yes," said Bobby. "I have to make her cum six times before she's satisfied."

"This is insane, man. How is it possible I didn't know this?"

"There are lots of things you don't know. Anyway, trust me that she's crazy horny right now and I think she'd let you fuck her. Can you get into that?"

Russell's eyes were big.

"Shit, man, the only girl I ever even messed around with was my cousin at a family reunion two years ago. I don't know nothin' about fucking, much less how to make a woman cum six times!"

"She'll teach you that," said Bobby. "She seemed to have great fun teaching me how to make her happy." He grinned. "Actually, she taught me how to make other women happy, too." It was only a little lie. Russell didn't need to know more, yet.      

"Other women?" Russell's voice rose. "Dude! What the fuck have you been up to?"

"I can't tell you that unless you join the club," said Bobby. "I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, but to be honest I could use some help. I just can't share any details unless you're doing it too."

"So you're fucking more than one woman and you want me to help you fuck them?"

"We're partners in everything else," said Bobby.

Russell looked over his shoulder at Julie, and then back to Bobby.

"I just can't believe all this," he said. "I knew white people were crazy, but not like this."

"I'm not crazy and you don't have to do anything," said Bobby. "We can go on like always and pretend you didn't hear anything today."

"I can't pretend I don't know about this," said Russell.

"So, do you want to find out what it's like to fuck a woman or not?" Bobby just waited. "I know you do," he added, when Russell didn't say anything.

Russell looked over his shoulder again, and then turned and walked towards Julie.

"I'm Russell," he said, standing in front of her.

"Hi, Russell. I'm Julie. So what did you decide?"

"I'm having a hard time believing that you and I could … you know … "

"Fuck like bunnies?" asked Julie, brightly. "Russell, when you look like me men don't line up to make you squeal. I lived without sex for twenty-five years and then I met Bobby and found out what I had been missing. I'm not in love with him. I just adore how he treats me in bed. You're his best friend, and I'm just curious about you. That's all."

"Because I'm black," said Russell, stiffly.

"Maybe a little, but I bet if I cut you and Bobby nobody could tell whose blood was whose. I just get really horny and sometimes I wonder what a guy other than Bobby might be like. We don't actually have to do anything. I'd have fun just chatting with you while we drink iced tea."

"You're serious," said Russell. His voice wasn't as stiff.

"Russell, I have no idea if there will be any of the kind of chemistry I have with your friend, but if there is, I can promise you won't leave here unhappy."

For the first time Russell looked her up and down. She was probably thirty pounds overweight and it showed mostly on her bare arms and the bulging roll beneath her breasts. Those breasts were big and pillowy, too. Russell had never gotten to see real breasts before, other than his sister's, when she was twelve and he was thirteen. He felt his groin reacting at the thought of what might happen to him.

"I've never … um … done anything," said Russell, softly.

"Really? Well, then, the girls in your school are crazy. You're a studly looking young man, to me."

"No I'm not," said the young man who was five-eleven and weighed a hundred and seventy-five pounds.

Bobby came up and interrupted them.

"I have to go. Are you guys good?"

Julie looked at him.

"What if I like him better than you?" she asked.

Bobby laughed.

"I'm not worried. You okay, Russell?"

"I'm okay," said the black man. "Go on and do whatever your mom wants you to do. I'll be fine here."

"Here?" said Julie. "Ooo, goody. I'm getting excited. Can I offer you some tea, Russell?"

"A shot of whisky would probably be better," said Russell.

Julie laughed and turned back to the door. She looked over her shoulder when she opened it.

"I don't want your senses dulled by liquor," she said, her voice sultry. "You coming, or not?"

Russell looked at Bobby, who was edging away, and then back at the woman who was offering him something he'd never have believed any woman would offer him, probably ever. If he went in this house, his life would change in a huge way.

"I like sugar in my tea," he said, moving toward her.

"That's good," she said. "I like sugar in my men."

************

"I know I'm coming on a little strong," said Julie as she set a glass of tea down in front of Russell with one hand and a sugar bowl beside it with her other. "Bobby is pretty remarkable and I think he has kind of spoiled me. I don't quite know how to behave anymore when there's a strong, handsome young man around anymore. I'm not a slut. I promise you that. I'm babbling a little bit because I'm nervous, too."

"I don't think you're a slut," said Russell, as he dumped one heaping spoonful of sugar into his tea and used the same spoon to stir it.

"Yes you do," she said, calmly. "I only met you ten minutes ago and I've already propositioned you. I'd say I was a whore except I'm not charging you anything."

"You're not a whore, either," said the boy.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen," she sighed. "I was seventeen only eight years ago, but your seventeen-year-old world is so very different from mine."

"What do you mean?"

Julie calmly took her T shirt off. She had on a plain, white, utilitarian bra that was stuffed full to overflowing with very white looking breasts. She pinched the area below the bra, squeezing two inches of excess stomach.

"I was even fatter than this back then," she said. "I've actually lost ten pounds since Bobby first made love with me. He motivates me to work harder to take the weight off. I'll never be a skinny woman, but maybe one day a man will ask me out for coffee."

"Do you want to go out for coffee sometime?" asked Russell, as he stared at her deep cleavage.

"They're thirty-eight EE's" she said. "I know everybody wants to know what size they are. I think people are kind of awed by how much there is." She cupped her bra-encased breasts and bobbled them.

She saw him lick his lips and said the exact same thing she'd said to Bobby on that very first fateful day when her whole world had changed.

"You want to see them?"

Russell's eyes jerked up to look at her face.

"You're not a slut or a whore. Maybe you're carrying some extra weight, but you have beautiful eyes and I like the shape of your face," he said.

"Ohhhh, boy, you're going to get sooo laid," she sighed.

"I would say don't call me boy, but right now that seems kind of trivial," said Russell.

"I wasn't calling you boy," she said. "It's just a turn of phrase."

"I know," he said. "But it has evolved from slave times. Back then you might have said, 'Boy, don't you stare at my lily white titties.' I get it that you didn't mean it that way. Maybe my reaction is just a learned one."

"It can't be easy, living in a town like this when you look like you," she said.

"It's not so bad," he said, shrugging. "Most people are cool. What makes it hard is that doesn't seem to extend to dating their daughters. Every girl I've asked out either made up some excuse not to go out with me or said her parents wouldn't let her or whatever."

"I can understand how a girl might be uneasy about dating a black bo-" She stopped and licked her lips. "Man," she went on. "It's normal to fear the unknown and in terms of romance you're a very unknown. I'll be honest that I'm very curious about what your skin will feel like. I know it's silly, because I know your skin will feel just like Bobby's skin. But something in my mind makes me notice how black you are. Is that racist?"

"No," he said. 'You're not showing prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism toward me. People get all wrapped around the axle if race is noticed, but if that doesn't involve any of those three things then it isn't racist."

"It would be nice if everybody got over all that, but I don't think they will," she said.

"Yes," said Russell.

"Yes?"

"You asked me if I wanted to see them and I want you to take that bra off in the worst way," he said.

She reached behind her with both hands and the tension on the bra went loose. The bra sagged a couple of inches before her hands came back to cup them, holding the cups over her flesh.

"I'll show you under one condition," she said.

"What's that?"

"If you get a hardon you have to show it to me," she said. "If you don't, I won't take it personally."

"I already have a hardon," he said, reaching to slide his hand over the lump in his groin.

"Then get ready to show it to me."

Her hands pulled the cups off of two mountains of soft, very pale breasts that looked like they could feed six or seven babies without running out of milk. The nipples on them were dark brown, set on areolas the size of a fifty cent piece. The nipples were turgid and stuck out far enough they could easily be pinched and pulled. There was a silence that stretched and stretched until it got uncomfortable.

"Well?" came her voice. He could hear the fear of rejection in it and was amazed. Grown up women didn't worry about rejection … right?

"I can't think of the right word," he said. "Fabulous is close. Amazing is too mundane. Incredible is a maybe. I just don't want to disrespect them by using a mundane adjective."

Her smile made his prick jerk in his jeans. It was pointing down by happenstance, rather than design, and the root was strained at the moment. She had said he had to show it to her and now she was standing there topless.

"Just say you like them," she sighed.

"I know!" he said, suddenly, as something silly popped into his mind. But it fit. "They're supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

She laughed and jiggled both breasts up and down. The vividly brown tips, almost the same color as his skin, seemed to demand being watched.

"Get 'em off!" she yipped. "I showed you mine and now you have to show me yours!"

He felt oddly comfortable undoing his belt and button on his jeans. His zipper came down easily. It didn't feel familiar to push his pants down to show his penis to a complete stranger, but he wasn't nervous about it at all. He knew she'd be impressed. His sister had barged into the bathroom while he was drying off after a shower, one time. He'd been thinking about a particular female teacher while he took his shower and had gotten hard. He planned to repair to his room after he got dry to have a nice, long jerkoff session because everybody else in his family was gone. His sister had come home unexpectedly, though, and seen his cock in all its glory. She had said any girl who saw it would be impressed. She wouldn't touch it or get naked for him, of course, but her just being there had kept it long and strong. The incident had not stressed their relationship, even if it was never repeated.

"An inch" isn't very long. Usually, when someone contemplates "an inch" it seems pretty un-inspiring. But add that inch to a penis, both in length and circumference, and it does make a difference. At least to most women.

Again, there was a long silence but Russell could see in her eyes that this had not been a mistake. He pulled his tank top over his head because he felt stupid standing there with his dick sticking straight out while he had a shirt on.

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," she sighed.

"You haven't shown me all of you," he pointed out. "Somehow this feels like I'm behind."

"I'll want you to be behind, at some point," she said, reaching to undo her own shorts. Bobby had shaved her pussy one time and she had kept it tuned up that way because she knew he liked a bare pussy, or at least her bare pussy. She also knew that her inner labia bulged out between the outer ones, making her sexual opening look ragged; ready to be abused.

They stood, contemplating each other, evaluating one another.

"Is this real?" he moaned, licking his lips.

"Oh, it had better be," she said.

************

Russell lay next to the woman who had taken his virginity. They were both limp with exhaustion, though both would recover quickly. His penis felt different. Being encased in a hot, clasping pussy had been like nothing he had ever felt or could even imagine. He felt different in other ways, too. He felt like a man. He felt confident. She had not just let him fuck her; she had demanded it. She had made it crystal clear that she loved having him on top of her, or behind her, or under her, as long as his prick was in her pussy. He had learned what a clitoris looked like and tasted like, at least when it came to Julie's. He had heard moans and groans of satisfaction that he knew he was responsible for. As he lay there, just breathing, he wished he could fuck her all the time. He thought he finally understood why people got married.

Married people could do this any time they wanted, and all day if they wanted to.

He had cum in her three times. The first had been within fifteen seconds after his virginity was, in fact, history. He had been mortified but she had insisted she didn't care. She sucked his white-streaked dick to prove it. Then, when he was hard again, she taught him how to use his prick to give her orgasms. Bobby had said she always needed to cum six times before she was satisfied. That had seemed ridiculous until Russell watched her face as she had her first one with a black dick in her pussy. He'd quit counting after eight and just paid attention to trying to make her look and sound like that again. And when, occasionally, he felt the urge to spew, he knew he'd be able to get hard again. He knew he'd always be able to get hard if he was around Julie.

"Is this the only time this will happen?" he panted, gently.

"People would notice if you moved in with me," she panted in return, "but I'm going to have to figure out excuses to have you come into my house a lot."

His hand reached and landed on her arm. His fingers slid onto her hand and they interlaced fingers.

"It doesn't feel any different," she said.

"It sure feels different to me," he replied.

"I meant your skin. It doesn't feel any different than Bobby's. Your lips feel different but then I've only kissed two men in my life, so maybe all lips feel different."

"Ahhh," he responded, unable to think of anything to say.

"Now your penis? That's a whole different matter," she went on. "Bobby's going to have to work very hard to match what you can do with that thing you have hanging between your legs."

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Wasn't I supposed to use a condom?"

"First, it would be a literal crime to cover that supercalifragilisticexpialidocious cock of yours. It is deliciously bumpy and hot and just yummy! Second, after Bobby showed me what I had been missing and I couldn't do without him, I went to the doctor and had an IUD implanted. If I hadn't, Bobby would have knocked me up at least four dozen times by now."

"Ahhh," he said again.

"Now I won't be able to do without yours, either. I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell Bobby."

"He's my best friend," said Russell.

"No, what I mean is that if you tell him it will change things, and I don't want to change things."

"No promises," said Russell.

"He tries to get me pregnant every time he fucks me," she said. "It makes him crazy when I tell him my IUD might have fallen out and then wrap my legs around him so he can't pull out."

"You didn't tease me like that," said Russell.

"I was too busy just soaking in the deliciousness of it," she said. "I couldn't think about anything except how fantastic it felt. You're a very quick learner, by the way."

"I was inspired to learn," he said. "Are you ready to go again?"

She rolled her head to face him. Her blond hair was a mess, with strands of it lying across her face.

"I'm actually a little sore," she said. "I've never been sore before."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm not. I just can't go again right now. I don't want there to be any pain when I have you in me again."

"In you again," he sighed. "That's just such a weird thing to think about."

"You don't want to?" Her words were petulant but he could tell she was teasing him, now.

"I'm sore, too," he moaned. "You jerked everything out of me. You milked me like I was a cow! I thought you were going to tear it off a couple of times!"

"Poor boy," she said.

She rolled over and her breasts pressed against his arm and chest. He had sucked on her nipples for what seemed like hours, even chewing gently on the extended, stiff points. He had lain on top of them, using them as odd pillows to support his weight while he rode them, lunging into her and then letting gravity and physics pull him back out. When he first saw them he admitted to himself that he had thought they were fat, but that changed almost instantly and his appreciation for them had advanced steadily. He couldn't wait to feel them against his chest again.

"Can I call you boy, now?"

"You can call me anything you want to," he said, softly.

"If I do that … if I call you boy … that will be the code between us that I need to see that black thing penetrating my white pussy. Is that racist?"

"I can live with that kind of racism, even if it isn't really racism by the dictionary definition. Maybe sometime we can role play about the bad old days. You can be the plantation owner and I can try to get you pregnant."

"No. I don't want to think of you as being treated like that; not ever."

"I've heard stories about how some white women let a slave get her pregnant because of revenge against her husband or something," he said. "Not all white people wanted to crush the black man back then."

"I wish I could have your baby," she said. "I wish I could have Bobby's too. But in this town I'd be treated like scum if I got pregnant. You may have noticed I'm not married."

"Things aren't quite that bad," said Russell. "I mean look at my dad. The people of this town hired a black man to be their chief of police."

"He was their token black and he knows it," said Julie. "The town council is all woke and shit. They didn't hire him for his resume. They hired him because of the color of his skin."

"Yeah, we know," said Russell. "Still, it's working out a lot better than I thought it would."

"Because of me?" Now he heard true yearning in her voice. She felt unappreciated most of the time. She had a good job but no real friends at work. Men didn't ask her out. She was reduced to asking high school boys to fuck her. He leaned forward and kissed her. Every time he did that he was amazed at what her lips felt like, so soft and warm and … eager.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said. "If you weren't a hundred years older than me I'd ask you out and maybe even ask you to be my girlfriend."

He saw her eyes get wet and tears threaten to spill out onto her nose and cheek.

"Maybe I'm not too sore," she whispered.

************

"So, how'd it go?" asked Bobby, the next time he saw his friend. It was summer and Bobby worked at least some of every day, so they didn't see each other as much as they did when school was in session.

"How'd what go?" asked Russell, trying to sound innocent.

"Julie came into the store and asked me if I could help her find the right paint to paint one of her walls. Then she said she owed me for introducing you two."

"She said that, huh?"

"If we hadn't been in public she'd have gotten naked and demanded I fuck her right there on the floor."

"She is quite a woman," Russell opined.

"So you'll be mowing her lawn from now on?"

"And pulling weeds in her garden, and sweeping her sidewalks, and whatever other crazy thing she thinks of so that if anybody sees me there she'll have an excuse for why."

"She lives on a cul-de-sac and on one side of her there's Mister Johnson, who has to be eighty and is stone deaf. The other side is a woman whose husband is an over-the-road trucker and is only home on weekends. Nobody ever notices when I go in and stay an hour or two."

"Only two?" Russell's eyes sparkled. "She kept me there for four."

"You're a novelty right now," said Bobby, punching his friend in the shoulder. "Once she gets used to that horse cock you have in your pants the novelty will wear off."

"Who said I have a horse cock?" asked Russell.

"We've been skinny dipping, you moron," said Bobby. "And Teri mentioned it, too."

"Teri? Why would you be talking to my sister about the size of my dick?" Russell felt something hard form in his stomach.

"She asked me if white boys really had tiny dicks and said she'd see you in the shower with a hardon."

"I wasn't in the shower," said Russell. "I had just gotten out and was thinking about Miss Abernathy."

"That's a relief," said Bobby. "I couldn't imagine a scenario in which you and Teri were in the shower at the same time and you had a boner. She was a little freaked out by it."

"She barged in on me," said Russell.

"I know. What freaked her out was that she said it looked interesting and she wondered if I'd show her mine so she could make a comparison."

"Please tell me you did not do that." Now Russell's voice was hard.

"No way," said Bobby. "I'm not stupid. I mean she's hot and all, but she's also only sixteen. I much prefer my older women, who I can't get in trouble over."

"Good," said Russell, relaxing.

"I did tell her I'd show it to her if you were there, so she could see them side by side." Bobby grinned. "She squealed and ran away."

"You're insane," said Russell.

"You just be careful. She only asked me that because I almost live at your house and she knows she can't mess around on dates. She may get so curious about things that she sneaks into your bedroom some night to investigate the only cock she has access to."

"Fuck you, Bobby Grisham," said his black friend.

"Okay. So, now you're in the club. You obviously had a good time if you stayed four hours. Would you be interested in expanding your stable of playmates?"

"You make it sound animalistic. I like Julie. I don't think of her as a horse, even if I have a so-called horse cock."

"Figure of speech," said Bobby. He frowned. "Except some of them treat me like a stallion who is there to service them."

"Good grief," groaned Russell. "Who are these women?"

"I can't tell you right now. I have to talk to them first. If they're interested in expanding their stable, I'll introduce you."

"Like you introduced me to Julie," said Russell.

"Exactly," said Bobby.

"You know you were an asshole when you introduced me to Julie," said Russell, wryly. "I mean it was like you threw us in a pen together and hoped we wouldn't fight."

"I did not. I know her and I know you. I know she's lonely and feels like she'll always be lonely and I know you have a lot of passion in you with no outlet. I just figured it would work. It did work, did it not?"

That was a preview of Accidental Gigolos. To read the rest purchase the book.

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