The Making of a Gigolo (7) - Rhonda Wilson
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
This is the seventh in a series of stories about how Bobby Dalton was transformed, from a normal teenage boy, into a man sought after by many women. His story starts with "The Making of a Gigolo - Tilly Johnson", and there is much information in that first story, and the ones that followed it, that will be useful to you in understanding what happens in this story.
For your fullest enjoyment, and because parts of each story are continued in succeeding ones, please read the stories in order.
Rhonda Wilson sat bleary-eyed and looked at her best friend, Janet. She'd known Janet for a long time, ever since they'd been in school together. They’d graduated in 1960, and both had gotten married. Each was the other's Maid of Honor.
Things had gone sour for Janet within a year. Her husband, a star of the basketball team, was vicious when he drank. He didn't drink often, but two trips to the emergency room were enough to convince Janet that she'd do better trying things on her own. She worked at the grocery store, which wasn't glamorous but, after twelve years, she was a supervisor, which paid the bills. She'd tried marriage again, in 1965, but managed to find another abusive man. She'd been what she called clean and sober since her second divorce.
Rhonda finished her third martini with a gulp. She knew she shouldn't drink so many, and so quickly, but she was miserable. She looked back at Janet, who was smiling and refilling her glass already. Janet was fishing for information. Rhonda knew that. As she studied her friend, she was trying to figure out whether to give Janet what she wanted ... or not.
Janet had fared fairly well in the battle with age ... not that thirty was so terribly old ... but Rhonda felt old. Living with a secret did that to a person ... made you feel old. At least it did that to her.
She didn't have to stand beside her friend, looking in a mirror, to know that she had not fared quite as well as Janet had. Janet still had an hourglass shape. They played tennis every Saturday on the high school court and, in the summer, went swimming together at least twice a week. Rhonda had been in the locker room enough times to know that Janet's breasts were still firm and pointed, though the tips of her breasts seemed to pull downward. It made her silver dollar-sized areolas and nipples, both shockingly pink, seem to be looking down. She still had her long honey blond hair, with the same light sprinkling of slightly darker hair between her legs.
By comparison to her friend, Rhonda felt very plain. Her brown hair, neither light nor dark, hung limply to her shoulders whenever there was the slightest trace of humidity in the air. Her own breasts were still firm and round, but only took a B cup to contain. Some fat had already settled on her hips, and neither tennis nor swimming made it go away. Her brown mat of pubic hair was luxurious, but then, what did that matter? Nobody ever saw it. Especially not Herb, her husband.
That was her secret ... the one she'd kept for eleven years. Herb worked at the fertilizer factory, outside of town and had, ever since they’d graduated from high school. She'd been surprised at his interest in her, back then. Back then she'd carried thirty pounds too much weight, and had pimples that wouldn't quit. Glasses had capped off an appearance that she was quite sure would prevent her, forever, from getting a man. Then, in her senior year, Herb Wilson asked her to the prom, right out of the blue. She'd accepted gladly, and, within a month, he had asked her to marry him. She kept pinching herself, thinking she was in a dream.
During the first year of her marriage she had lost the weight, changed her diet, and gotten contacts. She had done all those things because her husband made love to her infrequently, at best, and with no enthusiasm, at worst. There were times when he couldn't perform at all.
It took her a whole year to figure out that he was a homosexual.
He had finally admitted it to her, tearfully, and had also admitted that he had chosen her to "cure" him. It hadn't worked. What made his penis rock hard was ... another penis. He had a boyfriend, at work. Two, in fact. Rhonda was amazed there were three homosexual men in the whole county, much less in one little town. That they all worked at the same place just about blew her mind.
That was when she went to work, thinking to get enough security to quietly get a divorce, like her best friend had, so soon before. But that hadn't worked out.
First off, she had only a high school education, and the only jobs she could find wouldn't support her, on her own. She was still only working part time. And Herb begged her not to divorce him. They could stay married, he said. He'd give her money. They'd live a lie, but people would believe that lie. He threatened to kill himself if she exposed him, and used every other trick in the book to manipulate her into staying in the marriage, so that people would think he was normal. She'd never had a boyfriend before Herb. Sex with him had been both awkward and unfulfilling. The ten or fifteen times he stayed hard long enough she’d felt some distinct tingles of pleasure that she assumed must be the vaunted orgasm that girls in school had so raved about. They were okay, she guessed, but nothing to write home about.
Rhonda realized she had drained the martini that Janet had so recently poured her, and stared at the glass. She was snockered. That's what she was. She began to giggle. Snockered ... blitzed ... drunk as a skunk ... at two thirty in the afternoon. Herb was at their house, sleeping in his soundproofed room.
"Sweetie," cooed Janet, pouring more clear liquid into Rhonda's glass. "I know you're unhappy. Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
"Not happy!" blurted Rhonda. "No ... mean am happy! In fact, I'm sloshed!" She perked up enough to sing the line from the James Brown song. "I feeeeeel good, duh, duh duh, duh duh, duh duh!"
Janet leaned forward and snatched the martini away from her friend. She'd given her too much. You never knew, with Rhonda, when she'd had enough. The woman was as tight-lipped as the government was before they finally released the Pentagon Papers, just last year. And Janet just knew, deep in her gut, that Rhonda had a secret just as juicy and just as shocking as the Pentagon Papers had been.
She sighed. Her friend was too far gone, now. She'd have to try again tomorrow. Best to just let her go to sleep, right here in the living room. Lord knows she didn't have much to go home to. Herb worked the night shift at the fertilizer plant ... had ever since they were married. How could a woman live with a man who went to work at 10:30 at night and got home at 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning, after his wife had gone to work? By the time poor Rhonda got off work, at noon, he was asleep in that fortress he'd built that blocked out all sound and all light. He didn't get up again until an hour before he left for work. For perhaps the thousandth time Janet wondered how Rhonda maintained her sanity. She only got to see her husband twice a week, on his days off. Even then, he slept the same hours, to keep his rhythm going.
Maybe that was all it was that was making Rhonda seem to disappear a little more each day. Janet knew she couldn't have survived ten years of that herself.
Of course the bright side was that Janet got to spend every afternoon with her friend. She watched as Rhonda's head tilted further to one side, and her eyes went glassy.
She got up to straighten her out on the couch, so that she wouldn't develop a crick in her neck. There wasn't much to do on a winter afternoon, but if they thought of something, she didn't want Rhonda to be under the weather, and unable to do it. She saw that Rhonda's blouse was tangled, and had pulled tightly across her chest. That wouldn't be comfortable either. She'd just unbutton a couple of buttons, and get a blanket for her.
Her fingers went to the buttons. One came loose, and then the next. Rhonda's eyes opened wide, but it was obvious she was looking at nothing.
"Doan tuch me ..." she mumbled. Then, as her eyes closed again, she added "Go tushh ... girlfriend".
Janet stood, frozen. She couldn't believe her friend had thought she was molesting her. It was ridiculous! They hugged, sometimes, but not that often. And the disgust in her drunken voice! Surely she didn't think her best friend in the whole world was a lesbian!
Her mind jarred. That didn't make sense. She must have been talking to someone else, in her mind. It could only have been Herb. She had thought it was Herb undoing her blouse. That had to be it. And she had told him to stop! What was that other part about? Girlfriend? Did Herb have a girlfriend? That was it! Herb was cheating on her! She knew it ... or suspected it anyway ... and she'd told him to go to his girlfriend!
Maybe she'd gotten the secret out of Rhonda after all!
It took three hours, but Rhonda finally woke up. She was lucky to be the kind of person who rarely got a hangover. Generally, she didn't drink all that much, or all that often ... just when things came to a head, like they had the night before, when a man she'd never met came out of Herb's bedroom with him, while she was standing at the refrigerator in her nightgown, looking for a bedtime snack. It had been awkward, even though Herb's "girlfriend" as she thought of it, hadn't given her a second glance.
She yawned and stretched, noticing the blanket over her, and smiled. Janet was such a good friend. She looked around, but didn't see anybody. Her mouth tasted foul, so she got up to go to the kitchen. She was as at home in Janet's house as she was in her own, and knew there would be orange juice in the fridge. She was pouring a glass when Janet walked into the kitchen from the direction of the utility room.
"You're up!" said the woman, cheerily. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," said Rhonda.
"No, you're not," said Janet firmly. "And we need to talk about it."
"What did I do now?" asked Rhonda, trying to think back on what she might have done after all those martinis.
"You got drunk in the middle of the day, for one thing," said Janet.
Rhonda turned and stared. "And who mixed up all those martinis?"
Janet acted like she hadn't said a word. "Please, Rhonda ... talk to me. I can help. I know I can."
"Help with what?" asked Rhonda.
"Your problem," said Janet.
Janet's suspicions about Herb were gelled, but not completely set. If they were wrong, it could completely wreck their friendship, and she didn't want that. At the same time, she was unable to control her desire to meddle in her friend's business, though that's not how she would have characterized it.
"What problem is that?" asked Rhonda, not cooperating at all.
Janet took a chance.
"I know about Herb, Rhonda," she said flatly.
Rhonda's mind jangled. While she didn't get the pain that went with hangovers, sometimes her mind wasn't quite as smooth as it should be when she got up from sleeping one off. The first thing she thought of was how, last night, Herb had brought his lover out, right in front of her. That was the first time he had been so blatant about things. Always before, he had been circumspect, and discreet. What if he'd also done something ... in public ... that was indiscreet.
"What did he do?" she asked, her voice shaky. "Who was he with?"
Janet was in a pinch, now. She had nothing, other than a few mumbled, drunken words, to base her theory on. Rhonda's reaction, though, suggested that she at least had suspicions too. Her mind raced.
"They were ... um ... holding hands," she said, tentatively.
"In public?!" Rhonda moaned. "Shit! He's always tried to be so secretive about it. I can't believe he'd do that in public!" She actually wrung her hands, and then looked at her friend. "Who else saw them? Where was it?"
Janet was elated. It was about Herb, and Rhonda did know. In fact, she'd apparently known about it for some time. She tried to hedge.
"I don't think anyone else saw them," she said carefully. "I was really shocked by it, though. I didn't know for sure if you knew about them or not."
Rhonda moaned. "I've known since a year after we were married. I couldn't tell you, Janet. I couldn't tell anybody. Are you sure nobody else saw them? Where was it?"
Janet was mystified. This had been going on for ten years? And she'd never suspected before this? How could Rhonda put up with a cheating husband for ten whole years? In her eagerness to find out more, she slipped up. The lie came easily to her lips.
"It was in the canned goods aisle. It was late, and nobody else was there to see. I just turned the corner into the aisle and there they were."
Rhonda's mind had cleared, possibly due to the surge of adrenaline that entered her bloodstream, when she thought her husband's secret had been discovered, and that her life was about to be involved in a train wreck. Janet's description, though, didn't make any sense at all. Herb rarely went to the IGA at all. She did all the shopping, and he gave her a list of the things he wanted. Further, the IGA closed at eight, and Herb was invariably in bed until at least nine.
For the first time since getting up, she concentrated on her friend's demeanor. Janet was her best friend, but that didn't mean that Rhonda was ignorant of her faults. Janet's biggest fault was that she was a busybody, and poked her nose into everybody else’s business. Rhonda had always believed that was because Janet, like herself, had no real life of her own. So, like an emotional vampire of some kind, she fed off of the excitement, pain, and other emotional goings-on of the people around her. She had that look about her right now, in fact. Her eyes were bright, and she was slightly flushed, leaning forward a bit, as if she were ready to ... feed.
"What's going on, Janet?" asked Rhonda heavily.
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Janet, her eyes getting guarded. "I'm just trying to help you."
"How, exactly, are you trying to help me, Janet?" asked Rhonda, her voice tight.
"Sweetie, you know that holding things inside isn't good for you." Janet spoke soothingly. "I'm just trying to get you to talk about it ... get it off your chest."
Rhonda stiffened. "No you're not," she said, anger creeping into her voice and stance. "What you're trying to do is pry into the part of my private life that is none of your business!"
"How can you say that!" squealed Janet. "I'm your best friend! If Herb is running around on you, then I care. How can you just let him cheat on you like that?"
Rhonda's brain evaluated that last statement and she felt both the elation of knowing that her secret was still safe, because it was clear that Janet had lied through her teeth about seeing Herb with someone, and the dismal emptiness of knowing that her best friend had just lied through her teeth about seeing Herb with someone. Oddly, perhaps because their friendship had meant so much to her over the years ... had been her anchor ... the lie took precedence.
"You lied to me," she said, feeling anger and agitation. "You didn't see Herb with anyone. You were just fishing."
"But you just admitted it!" wailed Janet.
"I did not!" yelled Rhonda.
"Yes, you did!" screamed Janet. "You just said he'd been cheating on you for ten fucking years!"
"No, I didn't!" Rhonda screamed back. “I said he'd been queer for ten fucking years!"
The silence in the room was deafening, after all the yelling. Janet's eyes went round as saucers, and Rhonda moaned in frustration, at her lack of control. Now her secret really was out. Janet's reaction was almost identical as the reality of what had been uncovered slapped her, mentally. She really did care about Rhonda, though, and that asserted itself instantly.
"Oh, baby," moaned Janet, stepping toward her friend. "I'm so sorry."
Like many friends who have a knock down drag out fight ... well a real spat, anyway ... these two women were suddenly clutched together. Rhonda was suddenly bawling, as all the pent up frustration, rage and shame burst out of her, and Janet had lost all her desire to uncover something juicy. What she had uncovered made her shudder. All she cared about now was that her best friend's heart was broken and bleeding.
It was up to her to apply first aid.
Bev pulled back from kissing Bill. They had been doing that for the last twenty minutes, and it was fun ... but she wanted more. Her late night sessions with Bobby had taught her there was so much more that was even more fun, and would send streaks of joy through her body.
But ... as serious as things seemed to be getting with Bill Gregory, she had an instinctive understanding that, if she went too fast, he'd somehow know that she was much more experienced than he thought she was. He thought she was a virgin, which was, technically, true. While Bobby's thick middle finger had probed every inch of her spasming pussy, he had not put his prick in her. She'd tried, on several occasions to get him to do just that, but he wouldn't do it.
She wondered what Bill's semen tasted like, but she couldn't find that out yet either. Not yet. Just letting him put his hand on her breast, decently outside her clothing, had been a big step for him. She could tell, because he got all wiggly, and his kisses became much more fun.
"I love kissing you," he sighed.
"I love being kissed by you," she said.
"When do I get to see these?" he asked, squeezing her left breast.
"I want you to," she moaned. "Really, I do ... but ..."
"I know," he sighed. "And you're right. If you let me do that, I'd just want to do more. I already want to do more."
"You do?" she breathed. Her pussy itched. She needed to rub.
"I wish we were out of school," he moaned. "Then I could ..." He didn't finish.
"Could what?" asked Bev, excitement and fear battling for prominence in her heart.
"Never mind," he said. "Kiss me again."
Bev wasn't stupid. She knew a hint when she heard one, though he didn't deliver it as some kind of bait. And he didn't pressure her any more.
Except to take her breath away with hot kisses.
It was days later, and Rhonda had been avoiding her. Janet fidgeted, anxiously, and pulled her coat closer around her. It was freezing, and Rhonda had agreed to meet her for lunch at the Wagon Wheel. True, she had had to badger her friend into it, but Janet wouldn't let this thing ... this horrible, ugly thing that was tormenting her best friend ... wreck their own relationship too.
She stood up as she saw Rhonda park down the street, and get out of the car.
"It's freezing!" she called out. "Hurry up!"
"Why on Earth didn't you just wait inside?" asked Rhonda, as she hurried up.
"I wasn't sure you'd come in if you didn't see me," said Janet.
"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?"
"You've been avoiding me," accused her friend.
"No I haven't!" she said, before looking a little chagrined. "Okay, maybe a little. I'm just so embarrassed about it. You haven't told anybody ... have you?"
Janet snorted. "I promised I wouldn't. Have I ever betrayed our trust?"
"No," said Rhonda softly. "Thank you."
Janet, despite her unbounded joy when she was gossiping, had, in fact, never broken a trust with Rhonda. That trust was too important to her. Janet knew her life was basically pointless. She went to work, and then went home. The only real fun she ever had was with Rhonda. Rhonda was important to her, maybe the most important person in the world.
"Let's go inside. My nipples are frozen solid!" Janet opened the door.
The heat and smells were like a balm to both women, as they stepped into the diner. Both had been there before, many times, usually just for coffee and one of Sal's to-die-for cinnamon rolls.
"Hey, girls," called out Jill, the waitress. "Just sit anywhere. Be right with you."
They sat, and began to shed their outer clothing. Jill came to the table with two cups, and a pot of coffee.
"Cinnamon roll today?" she asked.
Janet glanced at Jill, and took in the rounded belly beneath her apron. She felt a twinge of jealousy. She'd wanted a big family. It hadn't happened. She knew Jill was divorced, but not much more than that. She wondered who the man was, who had swollen that belly, and put that on her list of things to nose out sometime.
"We're actually going to eat lunch, today," she said, smiling.
"Liver and onions, fixed in a cast iron skillet is the special today," said Jill.
"You're kidding!" said Rhonda. "People actually eat that?"
"Some folks love it," said Jill, shrugging her shoulders. She'd learned, over the years, that there was no accounting for taste, in food, or men, or just about anything else.
"I think I'll stick to the chicken fried steak," said Rhonda.
"Mashed, fried or French fries?" asked Jill.
"Fried," said Rhonda, her mouth already watering. Sal made the best fried potatoes she'd ever had.
"Green beans or corn?"
Jill turned to Janet, who was looking at her belly.
"Same thing," said Janet. She gave an opening salvo. "I didn't know you were dating anybody."
"I'm not," said Jill, smiling tightly.
"Oh," said Janet, disappointed at being shot down.
"Just coffee, or do you want some tea too?" asked Jill.
"Coffee is fine," said Janet. "Maybe some water." Rhonda just nodded.
Jill left, and Janet leaned closer.
"Listen," she said softly. "I've been thinking. If Herb is seeing ... other people ... why can't you do that too?"
"How?" asked Rhonda. "It's not like I can go down to the Ten Spot and troll for a man." The Ten Spot was the road house on the highway that bypassed the center of Granger. Everybody in town, who went to a bar, went to the Ten Spot, unless they drank in the privacy of their own homes.
"There's got to be a way," insisted Janet. "Look at Jill. She got pregnant, and she's single."
"Who said anything about getting pregnant?" blurted Rhonda, much too loudly. Janet looked to see Jill, at the counter, filling sugar jars. She looked up, and Janet averted her eyes.
"Shhhh," she cautioned. "All I meant was that she found a man somewhere or she wouldn't be in that condition. And if she can find a man, so can you."
"Why haven't you done that?" asked Rhonda.
Janet blinked. She'd asked herself that question a thousand times. Every time, she'd shied away from actually doing anything about it, because she was convinced that any man she picked would turn out like the last two. Janet had very low self esteem. Instead, she had gone shopping in a seamy part of Wichita, where she was able to get a reasonably life-size, reasonably realistic ... sex aid, as they were called. She used it frequently. It was enough. It wasn't great, but it was enough. Just the thought of dating a man made her jumpy.
"I’m too busy to deal with all that," she tried.
"Bullshit, Janet." snorted Rhonda. "You're in the same situation as I am. You've got no man, and I've got no man. Just because you work three or four hours longer each day than I do doesn't mean you're too busy to get laid."
"Okay, okay," said Janet, looking around again. "Would you keep it down?"
"And you're gorgeous!" said Rhonda, peering at her friend. "I'm not, but you are. You could find a man if you wanted one."
"Here's your water," said Jill, suddenly standing beside the table.
Both women looked up guiltily.
"Having man troubles?" Jill asked, lightly, looking at Janet.
"Well ... uh ... it's hard ... you're divorced too. You know how it is." Janet's eyes fell to Jill's swollen belly and she blushed. "I mean ..." She looked away.
Jill giggled. "Don't be embarrassed," she said. "You're right. I used to know how it is ... or was ... or something!" She laughed.
"So," said Rhonda. "How did you ... um ... find a solution?" Jill looked at her and she felt like her thoughts were written on her face. "I mean Janet's my best friend ... you know ... she deserves to have some happiness in her life." She gulped, as Jill continued to stare at her. "Like me," she added weakly.
Jill hesitated for a few seconds, and then smiled. "I met a man," she said lightly.
"But how?" said both women, as if they'd rehearsed saying it together.
Jill looked around. She lowered her voice. "He's a very special man," she said, almost whispering. "He ... takes care of me."
"Oh," said Janet, slumping. "Well, I can understand that. You're young and pretty." Something occurred to her. "But if he's ... um ... helping you out ... why are you still working?"
Jill looked confused, and then frowned.
"I don't mean he's my sugar daddy," she said stiffly. "He just understands what I need, and is there for me ... on an emotional level. That's all. He doesn't pay me!"
Janet flushed deep red, in embarrassment for jumping to the wrong conclusion.
"I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "I didn't mean that." She clenched her teeth. "Okay, I did mean that, but only because I couldn't think of any other reason things could be like that. I'm sorry I thought of you as that kind of woman. I should have known better, and I apologize." Her face got earnest. "It's just that it's so hard to figure this out. I'm a two time loser! I wouldn't know how to find somebody like that if I tripped over him."
Jill realized how unsettled the woman was. She didn't really know these two all that well, but they were good customers, and they left her tips, even when all they had was coffee.
"Actually, I sort of tripped over this one myself," she said. "It was a complete accident, but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. At least I think it is."
"But, you said he's not your boyfriend," said Rhonda. "How nice can he be if he won't step up and take responsibility for ..." She looked at Jill's belly.
"Oh, he tried," said Jill. "But I don't need him that way. He's sweet, and if I were looking for a husband, he'd be the first on my list. He just makes me feel good, and I don't have all the entanglements of a serious relationship."
"You mean you let him get you ..."
"Pregnant?" asked Jill, smiling. "Why not? I've always wanted children."
"But that's crazy!" said Rhonda.
"Why?" asked Jill. "I mean sure, it's not for everybody, but it serves my needs fabulously. I love him, even though I don't want to marry him, and I'll love our baby too."
"Wow!" said Janet. "I always wanted kids too, but I sure never thought about doing it that way."
Jill smiled. "Like I said, it's not for everybody, but it works for me. I'd better check on your food."
She turned, and was abruptly gone.
"How about that?" sighed Rhonda. "She gets everything she wants, and nothing she doesn't. It just isn't fair."
"Don't you get it?" hissed Janet. "If she can do that, you can too!"
"Yeah," said Rhonda, looking at the pert, in-shape, blond, young, cute waitress. "When pigs fly."
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