The Making Of A Gigolo (9) - Amanda Griggs - Cover

The Making Of A Gigolo (9) - Amanda Griggs

Copyright© 2007 by Lubrican

Chapter 12

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Bobby's life, and that of his family, was getting more complicated. Then he met Amanda, who was very busy, very impatient, and who had no time for a permanent man in her life. Her world was falling apart, though, and she needed. something.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Incest   Harem   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Pregnancy  

In the morning, Bobby got up and got dressed with her. He helped her get her father up, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be there, early on a Saturday morning. Ron seemed relaxed, and if Bobby’s presence bothered him, it didn’t show. They used a hospital bottle, a sort of portable bed pan, to relieve Ron’s bladder. Other elimination needs could be done, with his help, by moving him to the bathroom in his chair, and then transferring him to the toilet.

Once that was done, Amanda started to bang around in the kitchen, throwing together breakfast, and Bobby sat down with Ron at the dining room table again. The bean bags were already there, and Ron reached for them, obviously wanting to talk.

“Okay,” said Bobby. “What shall we talk about? The radio station?”

Red bag.

“The weather?” Bobby joked.

Red bag.

“Your daughter?”

Green bag.

“And me?”

Green bag.

“Has Amanda told you anything?”

Red bag.

“Well, you may be handicapped by your condition,” said Bobby, “but there’s nothing wrong with your mind, and you probably know I spent the night.”

Green bag.

“Does that bother you?” asked Bobby.

Ron’s hand went toward the green bag first, and then dragged slowly back to the red one, which he covered with his hand.

“I think I’d feel the same way if she were my daughter,” said Bobby. “All I can tell you is that I have only done what she asked me to do. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. My concern is for her needs. Can you understand that?”

Green bag.

“Do you want to know if I love her?” asked Bobby.

Again, Ron’s hand drifted toward the green bag first, and then reversed and landed on the red bag.

“Do you want to know if she loves me?”

Green bag.

“Well, then,” said Bobby, smiling. “We’ll just ask her when she gets here with breakfast.”

Changing the subject, Bobby began asking him questions about his first car. There was surprise in Ron’s eyes, but, by judicious application of the rules of the game sometimes called twenty-questions, Bobby learned that Ron’s first car was a 1938 Chevrolet coupe. It was black, and had a six cylinder motor in it. That was as far as they got before Amanda came in with plates of eggs, bacon and cereal. She went back for milk and juice. Plates, utensils and glasses came out of the china cabinet in the dining room

“So,” she said, sitting down. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“You, actually,” said Bobby. “And me.”

She had been reaching for the plate of eggs, and her hand stopped in mid air.

“Your father would like to know if you love me.”

She took her hand back, looking everywhere except at her father.

“I know I should have talked to you before this,” she said. “but I couldn’t figure out how to say anything.” She finally looked at him. “Are you mad at me?”

His hand thumped down hard on the red bean bag.

She glanced at Bobby, and then back at her father. “It’s hard to explain,” she said softly. “Bobby makes me feel good. I love being with him. He’s so different than any other man I’ve ever met. I do love him ... in a way ... but it’s kind of like puppy love, I think.” She looked guardedly at her father. “Does that make sense?”

Green bag. There was no hesitation.

“I missed so much ... going to work at the station,” she said. Ron hooted and she went on. “I’m not mad about it, Daddy. I wanted to work there ... to work with you. I’m not sorry either ... but I missed things. I don’t know how to be with a man ... a man I don’t know. I do want to get married some day, but this isn’t the right time, and Bobby isn’t the right man. I don’t even know how to look for the right man, Daddy.”

Ron hooted and his hand waved at Bobby.

“I like him, Daddy,” moaned Amanda. “But he’s not the right man. I love being with him, but something inside me tells me he’s not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m sorry.” She looked like she was about to cry.

Ron’s hand slammed down on the red bag, and then he waved at Bobby again.

“Are you saying that I might help her learn how to find the right man?” asked Bobby.

Ron hooted and his hand crushed the green bag.

Amanda’s relieved grin split her face. “Yes!” she yipped. “I don’t mind that. Bobby can help me that way. I know he can.”

It was quiet for a while. Amanda knew that progress had been made, but she had to ask one more question.

“Daddy?” she asked. “Can Bobby keep coming to see me ... here ... at night?”

Ron’s hand stayed dead in-between the two bags, not moving, not trembling, as if he somehow had complete control over it again. Then it lifted and landed softly on the green bag.

There was some boo-hooing, and Amanda kissed the poor man so many times that he finally pushed his hand against her, hooting in a different manner. His eyes were dancing, though. The rest of breakfast was pleasant, and almost normal, with the exception that Amanda had to feed her father.


What happened after breakfast, though, went far beyond what most folks would consider “normal”. Had Bobby stayed, it might not have happened, but he had things to do and, after breakfast, went on his way.

It came about innocently enough, when Amanda asked her father if he was ready for his sponge bath. He was usually bathed by the home help worker every other day, but Amanda wanted him to be comfortable on the weekend, so she sometimes bathed him. Now that she could communicate with him, though, she asked first. With the bags she determined that he did want a bath so she pushed him to his room.

Getting him in bed wasn’t as hard as she had thought it would be. He could stand on his good leg, though his bad one dragged. Pulling him up, she had him hold her shoulder with his good hand, while she pushed the robe off of his shoulders. It dropped as she steadied him, and she turned him, swiveling on his good foot. He fell backward with a hoot, and lay, with his lower legs hanging off the bed. She wrestled him up on the bed, until he was lying comfortably on his back.

That was when she noticed his erection.

“Daddy!” she said, her voice scolding. “You’ve got to stop doing that! You’re embarrassing me!”

He hooted softly, which she took as an apology.

“I’ll be right back with the water and sponge,” she said.

She got that from the bathroom, and almost dropped it all as she returned, to see him obviously trying to grip his erect penis. She stopped, in the open doorway and watched. He finally caught it, and she heard a soft moan escape his lips. The hand jerked, and flew off. His penis flopped down onto his pubic hair.

She backed up, feeling her face flush, and cleared her throat before walking back into the bedroom.

She pretended she hadn’t seen what he’d done, but this was the first bath she’d given her father since Bobby had expanded her world so much. Stroking her father’s skin, and hearing the soft sounds that she now recognized as pleasure, coming from his lips, she felt a different kind of compassion for her father than she ever had before. She knew he’d lost his job, due to the stroke. He’d lost the function in more than half his body. He’d lost the ability to speak. He’d lost his independence. Now she understood that he’d lost any possibility for sexual outlet too.

It seemed odd to think of him as a sexual being. That part was normal. Children rarely see their parents as sexual beings, even though the children themselves are the strongest evidence of that relationship. Now, though, because her own sexual life had blossomed so vibrantly, the compassion she felt for her father was able to include compassion for that part of his loss.

He had regained the ability to communicate, thanks to Bobby. It occurred to her that she might be able to help her father, like Bobby had helped her. She skipped his penis and balls, going on down to his legs first. Then, when everything else was done, she took his erection in her hand and swabbed it with the sponge.

“Close your eyes, Daddy,” she said, softly. “Think about Mommy.”

She gripped his penis, and stroked it, like she had stroked Bobby’s.

The sounds he made were pitiful, and she was afraid she’d made a terrible mistake, but, when she looked, his eyes were tightly closed.

“Think of Mommy,” she said again. “Mommy is going to help you ... through me.”

Like Bobby, her father had a foreskin, and she knew how to do this. She watched the tip, looking for that clear little bubble of stuff that would tell her it was working. It came quickly, and his breathing doubled in speed. She remembered that, when Bobby wanted to cum ... inside her - she felt a thrill at that thought - he speeded up. So she went faster. His honking moan of completion warned her, and semen shot two or three inches up into the air as she kept stroking him. It fell straight down, to coat her thumb and forefinger, as well as the head of his cock, which began to soften rapidly in her hand.

As he gave a long sigh, that sounded decidedly happy and relieved, she cleaned him up with the sponge. She looked up at his face, and he was looking down at her. She didn’t need the bean bags to know that he was grateful.

“I know it’s wrong,” she said softly. “But these are special circumstances. I’m more than willing to do this for you whenever you need it, because I love you.”

His hand came up off the bed, and reached for her head. She dipped into it, and felt him slide his hand down the side of her hair. She kissed him on the lips, this time ... just a soft, quick kiss.

“That was from Mommy too,” she said, blinking teary eyes.

She took the basin of water and sponge back to the bathroom and washed them both out. When she got back, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was regular and slow. She covered him with a blanket, and left the room. She didn’t feel one bit of shame or guilt for what she’d done.

These were special circumstances.


They managed to pull the new format together with an ad campaign that had the centerpiece phrase of “At KDEF, we love you, and we’re going to prove it on Valentines day.”

Julie found four new sponsors who agreed to give sponsoring half hour segments of unbroken music a try, for a month. DJs announced that changes were being made, and that on Valentines Day, those changes would become apparent. Record companies were contacted, and provided music for the new format. When Valentines day came, and the six o’clock morning show took off after the news and weather, they waited ... anxiously ... watching the three phone lines that came into the station.

All three lit up within ninety seconds, as Roberta Flack sang “The First Time, Ever I Saw Your Face”. Cindy, with a tremor in her voice answered the first line. Rodney picked up the second, and Amanda picked up the third.

They were kept busy for the next three hours, as Roberta Flack was followed by such selections as The Beach Boys, playing “In My Room”; Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes, performing “If You Don’t Know Me By Now”; Rick Nelson, singing “Garden Party” and Dr. Hook, with his hit “Sylvia’s Mother”, Amanda didn’t like Dr. Hook, because she said it was too sad. Then Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” came on and she joined Rodney and the others in dancing to it.

Notes were scribbled and piled into two piles - positive and negative. When the phone calls started to taper off enough that Cindy could handle them all, there were twenty-three notes in the combined negative piles and over four hundred positive comments about both the variety of the music being offered and the uninterrupted flow of that music.


Throughout March Amanda celebrated the positive response to the format change, both by listeners and advertisers, by calling Bobby to her bed, at least once a week. If she was having a dizzyingly happy day, she often followed that up by straining up against him as he stroked her happy pussy, and bathed it in his semen.

Julie began having trouble selecting advertisers, because, with the new format, they had less time to air commercials. That competition led to increased ad revenues as advertisers began upping the ante, to get their commercials on the KDEF airwaves. Competitors who began losing ratings shares to the newly revamped station stopped joking about “K-Deaf”, and started paying attention to the idea of having all different kinds of segments in a daily broadcast, from a half hour of oldies, to a half hour of the emerging country rock. KDEF broke all the rules of radio, and the money and fans poured in.

There were bumps in the road, of course. Amanda’s penchant to be in control raised it’s ugly head from time to time but, once her employees had tasted success, when they thought she was being obstinate, they told her so.

They also figured out that the best way to calm Amanda down was for her to spend some time with Bobby. She never admitted to her sexual relationship with him, but they figured it out. Seemingly innocent comments told them things. An example was one day when she said: “Oh, I saw Bobby last night, and he said that our bumper stickers are showing up all over the place in Granger,” caused Jerry to take Rodney aside and say, “If she’s in this good a mood because she saw Bobby, we need to get them together more often.”

In fact, a day long argument at the station about whether to hire one, or two more DJs, and eliminate the pre-recorded midnight to six program, caused Julie to call Bobby herself. Julie had calculated that they could bring in twenty percent more money, if they used a live DJ at night, and ran commercials. Amanda insisted that things were wonderful, and there had been no complaints.

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