Virgin Gigolo Ch. 08

"You couldn't leave?"

"Not right then. He physically blocked me when I said I was leaving, but he said, 'Not if I don't say so' and took my car keys. He told me to get him another beer, so I did, but added a little scotch to the glass, and then a while later did it again. By the second or third, it was his 5th or 6th of the night, three of them doctored, and he was getting really wasted. He finally told me to come to bed, and when we got in the bedroom he said, 'I have never been so embarrassed in my life. You ever do that again and I'll kill you. Do you understand?'"

"Oh my God, Robin. I had no idea."

"Until then, neither did I. There had been a few times when we were dating that he'd showed the "I'm macho and this is my woman" attitude, but nothing like that, until that night."

"But you left?"

"Not until the next morning. He'd taken my keys, and taken my phone. Of course, when he woke up in the morning, not quite as drunk, he seemed more like the guy that I married, almost apologetic. Almost, in that his apology was that he was sorry that he'd gotten so mad at me for me being wrong. As he was the man of the house, it was my duty to do what he said and to never embarrass him in front of his friends. He pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me, and told me he loved me. I told him I understood, and promised I'd never do that again, but as I was saying this it dawned on me that I had a hidden key attached with a magnet to the car. I'd never used it; Dad had made me put it there when I got the car, and I'd just forgotten it until then. I made him breakfast, and then gathered the trash and said I was taking it out to the garage. As soon as I got out there, I set the trash can down in front of the door from the house, went to the car, and found the key. I pushed the garage door opener, jumped into the car, and started it. He must have heard the garage door opening as he came running out before the door was completely open, but fell across the trash can, which gave me enough time to put it in reverse and back up. He came running out just as I put it in forward and tried to jerk the door open, but his hand caught, and he fell. I drug him probably ten or 15 feet until I slammed on the brakes. His hand came free and I drove away. But he must have had his keys in his pocket, I hadn't even gotten down the street before I saw his pickup following. The morning traffic was pretty heavy, so I just drove to the police station.

"I was leaning on the horn as I pulled into the lot, and there were two police cars just leaving that heard me and stopped. A second later he pulled in behind me, didn't even stop soon enough, and hit the back of my car. He didn't even realize we were in the police station parking lot and jumped out to try and jerk my door open again. By that time, the two cops were right there, and they drug him off the car, but he was fighting them. I don't know if they called for backup, but in about 10 seconds three more cops came running out and it took almost all of them to get him down and handcuffed. I finally opened the door and got out, and the first thing they noticed was the huge shiner on my eye. When you saw me, it was something like three months later. All the other bruises had gone away, but that one hadn't yet. The cops took one look at me and asked if the shiner was from him." She paused and took another sip, and I could see the shine in her eyes where she was almost in tears telling me all of this.

"They took us inside, and I told my story to a policewoman. They asked if he'd raped me, and I told them he hadn't, but that he'd made me suck off three of his friends. The first thing they did with him was give him a sobriety test, which he failed -- he still had a.14 blood alcohol -- even after sleeping for most of the night, so they had him on a drunk driving charge, including an accident as he'd run into my car. He told them that I was the one that had been abusive and tried to run him over, and that he'd been lucky to get away, and that as he'd pushed away from the car his hand had caught and I'd drug him about a hundred feet on the pavement, which is why his pants were ripped and his leg bloody. He came up with some kind of excuse about how my eye got bruised, and that it was a bloody lie that he'd "made me" suck his friends and he had found me cheating with them. Later on, when they questioned them, they all lied and denied it had happened."

"The cops at first said that, without any admittance or corroboration from the three friends, there wasn't much they could do as there was no physical evidence. I asked them what about the semen, and they wanted to know what that was about. I took them to the house, showed them where they had been seated, and after they'd cum in my mouth I'd spit their cum onto the floor. There was more than enough DNA to prove they were there, exactly where I said they'd been, but his story had changed. He said he'd been trying to protect me, but was now claiming that I had instigated the blowjobs, that he'd caught me having sex with his friends, and that he knew nothing about it. But, once they had the semen and DNA, they brought the three guys in and said they were charging them with sexual assault and rape, and one of them broke. He told an identical story to what I'd said, and once they had the one, the other two broke also. With an independent corroboration, Dennis was cooked. I went home to Mom and Dad, told them what had happened, and Dad took me to a friend of his who was a divorce lawyer. We filed immediately, and just shortly after I saw you, I was once again legally single."

"Did you get alimony?"

"I wish. We were only married a couple of months, he'd just started a job, and when he was arrested, he lost that. The house belonged to his parents, they'd been using it as a rental and said that we could stay in it for a while until we got on our feet. That never happened of course, as soon as I filed for divorce, they said I needed to leave, or at least his dad did. I'm pretty sure his dad abused his mom; she was very submissive."

"I was able to get back in school, but I was flat-out broke. Mom and Dad didn't have enough to but just help a little, so I had to find a job. They were able to help me afford a down payment on an apartment, but I had to get roommates to make it work. One of those roommates turned out to be Savanna... you know that's not her real name?" I nodded. "I got a job at Starbucks, right near the campus, but I'd have had to be working full time to make that work. It helped, but what little money I had was disappearing rapidly. The only one of my roommates that never seemed to be short of money was Savanna. I asked her what job she had or where she was getting her money from. She at first didn't want to tell, but a few weeks later I confessed to her if I didn't get another job soon, I wasn't going to have enough money for rent. She asked if I would consider being a lingerie model, that she worked for a woman that did lingerie and sex toy parties, and if I were interested, she could find out if she was looking for another model. I remembered Helen's party and seeing you there although I didn't know it was you, and it took a moment for me to remember her name, but when I asked if this woman was Melissa, she said 'You know Melissa?'

"I told her I'd been to one of her parties before, but really hadn't met her.

"So, Savanna introduced us, and Melissa remembered me too -- said she never forgot a pretty face. She asked all about me, what I'd done, so I told her my life history; boyfriends in high school, head cheerleader, met an upperclassman, thought we'd fallen in love, decided to get married, and got out before he killed me, and now I needed something more than Starbucks to live on. She said, 'I'll be honest, Robin, I occasionally can use a model at lingerie parties, although male models get a lot more sales from women, and there aren't many parties that include men. Lingerie models are pretty much like that man I had at Helen's party, the whole thing is about getting naked and showing your body. Have you got any problem with that?'

"I told her that as a cheerleader we'd basically been flaunting a scantily clad body in front of a whole stadium full of people, and I didn't think doing it for a smaller group with a little less on was that much different. She said, 'Funny thing you should say that.' I asked her why, and she said, 'Have you ever thought about escorting?' I said, 'You mean, having sex with someone for money?' She said, 'Not always, but yeah, sometimes, but that's up to you. We get a lot of requests not only for lingerie parties but... exhibitions. For bachelor parties, bachelorette parties, birthday parties, divorce parties, and the like. Usually, the women want a man to get naked and entertain them, the men want a woman and, by far, the most common request is for a sexy cheerleader. It seems American men have always had the hots for cheerleaders, and many of them have never given up that desire even though they're now forty or fifty. We also get a lot of requests for some eye candy. A businessman is in from out of town, has a business meeting, and wants to impress his partners or clients with a sexy woman on his arm. Sometimes those requests lead to... spending the night... but not always. That's strictly up to the girl or guy.' When I said, 'a guy? You mean like the one at Helen's lingerie party?' she told me you had occasionally worked parties for her, but that you had your own clientele as well. Is that right?"

I cocked my head sideways momentarily, not sure I wanted to acknowledge it, but then realized she was spilling her guts, and nodded my head. She wanted to know how I got started, and I was going to tell her and then realized where it really started, and with a grin told her it had started at her wedding. I gave her the long story, overhearing Mary Wilson talking about needing help, having to get my mother to give me some money so I could dance with her in the "money dance" without feeling like a cheapskate, and that Mary had commented on how she had virtually given me the cold shoulder when Robin interrupted. "That's not quite the way it was."

"What do you mean?" I asked, "I got to pin my money to your dress and you barely even looked at me, and then dumped me as soon as you could. Even Mary commented on how it wasn't a very friendly reception from you."

Robin sat there for a moment and said, "In all the years that we were around each other, why didn't you ever ask me out?"

"What?" I answered, a bit shocked. "Me? Ask you? You were two years older... You were dating the captain of the football team. You were the head cheerleader, and the most desirable girl at school. I was six inches shorter than you, a dweeb, and a roly-poly until I got a bit taller, but no girl had ever shown interest in me, especially you. And whenever our families got together, you never seemed to do anything except... tolerate... me. Whenever our families got together, I'd dream of you, masturbate dreaming of feeling your tits, kissing you, making love with you, for days afterward. You were completely out of my league though, completely out of my reach."

"I always thought you didn't like me."

"Me?" I shook my head in disbelief again. "My God, no. Just the opposite. I always thought you were so pretty, so sexy... if anything, you were my ultimate fantasy." She nodded and said nothing for a moment.

"He was a lousy fuck."

"What? Who was a lousy fuck?"

"Adam, the Captain of the Football team. The guy on the cover of the annual? Did you know we had already broken up when that picture was taken? He tried to use it to tell me we were supposed to be together. They had him put his hand on my knee and it was the last thing I wanted."

"I didn't know that."

"He had the biggest dick of anyone that I've ever been with, but in some respects, he was just like my husband, Dennis. Because he was this big jock, he thought he was God's gift to women, and me especially. He may have had a big dick, but he also was a big dick."

"I heard when your mom caught you guys fucking on the living room floor."

"What? How'd you hear that?"

"Mom always put the phone on speaker if nobody was around. She didn't know I was there, and had it on speaker when your mom told my mom."

"And you never told anyone."

"Not my business to tell anybody. I never believed in spreading rumors."

"Why didn't you ever talk to me? I would have talked to you; you just always headed the other way." She seemed a bit contrite in this confession.

"I always found you so intimidating. I was pretty low in the self-esteem department, it always felt safer to just stay away than to say hello to the prettiest girl I knew and get squashed."

"I wouldn't have done that. I always thought you were pretty handsome, even when you were... before you grew."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Neither of us said anything for a moment. "So... Mary Wilson..." she gently prodded.

"Oh yeah. Well..." I proceeded to tell about working for Mary and all that transpired. "... she offered me $250 to have sex with her. Not make love, to have sex. She was so happy to be getting laid, I guess it showed on her face. A girlfriend of hers noticed and realized she must be getting laid, and she told her about me. One led to another and to another and so on. When Helen had the lingerie party, she said she was going to recommend me to Melissa and a few days later Melissa called me up. I agreed to be her nude model, and then you and your friend walked in late. I had my mask on, and you looked right at me and never realized who I was. You even fondled my cock."

"I did?"

"You did, your girlfriend did, and your mom, all three." It was right then that Robin's phone rang. I glanced at my phone; we'd been talking for nearly two hours.

"Oh gees, Melissa, sorry, we got carried away, we're on our way. We'll be right there. What? Yeah, we do. Our moms were friends growing up... No, it's OK. Yeah, we're on our way."

~

"I didn't know you knew each other," Melissa said as we walked into her office.

"Yeah, I've known..."

"Shh! Shh! Shh!" Melissa said, holding her hand up to stop. "I don't want to know -- you are "Tiffany" and "Brent", I don't want to hear if you have any other names." It suddenly dawned on me that although I was having fun and getting laid virtually every day, getting paid for sex (even though I was a male) was hard to justify as not being illegal. At least not where we lived.

"So, you've got your costumes?"

"Yeah, we do," Robin answered for both of us.

"Ok, let's get them on and we'll run through this. It's always easier the first time if you've practiced." She paused and looked back and forth between us. "Were you two... ever an item? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Lovers?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "We actually thought we didn't like each other. I... uhm, always had a bit of a crush on... Tiffany," I had to stop myself from saying Robin and forced myself to say Tiffany, "but I always thought she was out of my league. I was too shy to even talk with her much."

"I always thought he didn't like me; he wouldn't even talk with me."

"Hmm." She glanced back and forth. "Get your costumes on."

"The way this works best," she said a few minutes later after we'd changed, "is that if it's a woman who you're supposed to arrest, Brent should have the arrest warrant, and if it's a male, it should be you, Tiffany. In this case, it's a woman, Betsy Warner. Brent, as soon as you come in the door, announce that you've got a warrant for the arrest of Betsy Warner. Everyone else, or at least some of them, will know what's going on and point her out. She'll be shocked of course, but start putting the pressure on her immediately. Get her to stand up, handcuff her, and then you can have her sit back down. Make sure it's a straight back chair, something so you can get behind her."

"What's the charge? What am I arresting her for?"

"Public drunkenness, she'll have been drinking, and may actually be drunk. You, Tiffany, will be the muscle -- telling all the others, to stay out of the way, threaten them with resisting arrest. Do a lot of bending, flash a lot of boob. And you, Brent, once you've got her handcuffed and sitting, you're going to have to frisk her for hidden weapons or anything that she's smuggling. Feel her up, if her nipples aren't hard, see if you can get them that way, and then accuse her of smuggling bullets or something, and make her take her shirt and bra off. Don't push it too hard, the idea is to get her to willingly acquiesce. It really doesn't matter, supposedly it's a drunkenness or public drinking charge or some such nonsense, so she should know it's all a tease by this time. And Tiffany, you assist in searching others. Especially the guys, that is, if there are any. Rubbing their crotches and dicks; the girls, rubbing their tits. Feel 'em all up, your excuse is that you're searching for weapons. Brent, while you're behind her, pull your shirt off. Play it up; if there is anyone who is also drunk and playful, accuse them of also being drunk in public, and if they're not careful you'll have to apply a breathalyzer. After you've played for a bit, be as belligerent as you need. You Tiffany, say it's time to get out the breathalyzer and step up behind Brent. Rip his pants free, his cock is the breathalyzer. Tiffany, if you haven't gotten undressed yet, this is a good time to get rid of the uniform, especially if there are men there, as we're teasing them too. Brent, you move around in front of Betsy, telling her she needs to blow into the breathalyzer. She may or may not want to. Don't force her, but stick it in her face. Will you be hard?"

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulder saying I didn't know. "Well, if not, Tiffany you'll need to help. Drop to your knees and "blow up" the breathalyzer. Once he's got a hard-on, you'll direct who needs to blow into it next. Brent... if one or more of the men want to suck you, is that a problem?"

I swallowed, knowing that it wasn't my thing, even though Paul had now sucked me off several times, I know the look on my face was enough to say it wasn't. "Well, it's up to you. Just as with every client -- no means no, and if you say you don't want to do something, or they say no, stick to it. Likewise, with Betsy, if she says no to anything until she says yes, don't take it any further. She probably will though, her friend Sharon has set this up and paid for this, she said Betsy hasn't been laid in almost 6 months and she's pretty randy." She stopped talking momentarily, glancing back and forth between Tiff and me. "I guess I assumed she was straight, but if she wants Tiffany, we've been paid for one fuck so it could go that way too. I know you'd have no problem with that, right?" she said to Tiffany. I saw Robin bob her head in agreement. "Ok, so you two, outside, let's run through this. I'll play Betsy. Beat on the door, and since we haven't got anyone to answer, just assume that someone did. Don't forget, beat on the door with authority. You are the law, so act like it. I'll sit here on the couch being Betsy. You've got to accost me, get me handcuffed, and into a chair where you can get behind me. Any questions?"

We stepped outside, and did a run-through -- and I'm glad we did. She stopped us after we came in when we didn't present the warrant immediately and ask who Betsy was, but did it right the second time. I pulled Melissa up, spun her around, and realized I hadn't gotten the handcuffs free. We backed up and did it again, and I snapped the cover on the handcuffs before I approached her this time. I pulled her hands behind her back, handcuffed her, and walked her over to the chair. Melissa did a good job of pretending to be drunk, I reached over her shoulders, fondled her tits, found her nipples, and said "Oh, I think she's smuggling something."