How I Became a Gigolo - Cover

How I Became a Gigolo

Copyright© 2013 by aubie56

Chapter 10

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - This is the story of Billy Weston and how he became a professional gigolo at age 14. His sister Jenny appointed herself as his pimp. At first, his parents thought that he was still doing lawn care until his mother found over $8,000 stashed in his room. That's when things got a little complicated.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Humor   Incest   Brother   Sister   First   Oral Sex   Prostitution  

It was the end of the summer, and I was facing the prospect of returning to school. Dammit, I was making so much money as a gigolo that I hated the thought of what going to school was going to do to my working schedule. I now had enough older clients lined up that I was fucking them five days a week at a usual price of $200 per day before Jenny's share. The thought of losing $875 a week, plus all of that fucking that I would be missing, really had me in the dumps.

Furthermore, I was dating high school girls and fucking them at an average of $225 per day for an average of 4— days per week. That amounted to $900 per week after Jenny had taken out her cut, so I stood to lose $1,775 per week, and I was really pissed off!

I could probably reschedule my older customers to the afternoons after school, but there was no way I could have dates with high school girls during the week because of school. The best that I could hope for there would be on Friday and Saturday nights, so I figured that my income would drop to no better than $1,325 per week.

Yeah, I know. My only expenses were those of an early teen because my folks were paying for my room and board, medical expenses, and clothes. Dammit, school lasted for nine months, so I could lose on the order of $16,200 over the school year. Why was life so unfair!? That was almost 20% of my potential annual income, and I hated the prospect!

On top of all that, my whole business world came crashing down one day in late August when Mom was cleaning my room. She was dusting my bookshelves when she had a accident and knocked a book onto the floor. She was startled when money came gushing from the pages of the book. Yes, I was still storing my money among the pages of my books because I had never been able to think of a better place to put it.

There was $900 just in that one book, and Mom's curiosity was naturally aroused. She checked every book in the bookcase and came up with over $8,000. Now, her emotions had flipped from curiosity to panic. I must be dealing drugs! She could not think of how a boy my age could come up with so much money by any other means. Well, she put all of the books back on the shelves, but she put the money into a large manila envelope. Mom took the money in the envelope and hid it under the mattress of her bed until she could talk to Dad about her discovery.

I had a date that morning with Janet Foster, and I had stayed late with her talking about what would happen when I had to return to school. For some reason, I figured that she could give me the best advice on how I could keep my customers satisfied during the school year. She agreed with me that most women would be able to shift to an afternoon schedule, but she had no better ideas than me on what to do about the dates with high school girls.

I knew that this was Mom's day to take off early from work to clean the house, and I wanted nothing to do with the house during that time. If I was around, Mom would find jobs for me, so I always avoided her on that day. As a result, I stayed away until almost supper time. I always had a reasonable excuse for not being there, but I am sure that Mom knew the real reason for my absence.

Anyway, for some reason I never delved into, Dad came home early, and Mom met him at the door with her story about finding all that money in my room. They talked about it until Jenny showed up (she also avoided the house on that day for the same reason that I did), whereupon they agreed to confront me after supper.

I showed up at an acceptable time; there was no reason that I was going to be late for supper! I did notice that Mom and Dad did have somewhat grim expressions during the meal, so I made an inquiring glance toward Jenny. She knew what I meant, and all she could do was to shrug her shoulders. The meal was one of Mom's lesser efforts, but the food was still good, so I had no clue about the problem.

As we were finishing desert, Dad said to me, "Son, your mother and I need to have a serious private talk with you right after supper. Jenny can watch TV in the family room, and we can meet in our bedroom."

Uh-oh, I knew that I was in serious trouble up to my eyeballs, but I still had no idea what could be the problem. My occupation never occurred to me. This sort of situation had never come up before, and I didn't know how to handle it. I was shaking all over as we walked to my parents' bedroom.

My parents sat on the side of the bed and I sat in the chair in front of Mom's vanity. I would probably have shit in my pants, but I was too scared for my sphincter to open up. Dad opened the session with a speech on how they both loved me and were only looking out for my best interests, then he said, "Your mother found almost $9,000 in your bedroom today, and we wonder how you could have come into that much money. The only thing that we can think of is that you must be involved in the drug trade."

Oh, my God!!! How could I have been so stupid as to leave that money where it could be found? Well, they had me now. All I could do was to confess and throw myself on the mercy of the court. "Dad, Mom, I am not involved in the drug trade in any way! I can tell you how I earned the money you found, but you are not going to like my story. To make a long story short, I am a professional gigolo! I have a string of customers who pay me from $200 to $250 every time I service them. I know that is not much money for my line of work, but it is all that my customers can afford."

If I had not been so scared, I would have laughed at the expressions on my parent's faces. I could tell that they did not believe me, that they didn't want to believe me, but they hoped that I was telling the truth. Sex was bad enough, but it was not as bad as the drug trade! However, the expressions began to change: Mom's shifted into shock, but Dad's shifted into incredulity. Neither one could believe that a woman would pay for sex, much less for sex from a teenage boy!

They knew that I had just recently celebrated my 15th birthday, and what does a 15-year-old boy know about sex?

There was a long silence that seemed like it lasted for at least two hours, but it actually probably was no more than 15 seconds. Then Dad said, "Come on, Son, who's going to believe that you could get that much money from a woman for sex?"

I should have known better, but I felt insulted, and I said too much. "Dad, most of my customers are repeat customers, and I get a lot of word-of-mouth advertising as my customers tell their friends how much pleasure I give them."

"Okay, if that's true, then who are your customers?"

"I'm not going to name names, but they range in age from widows who are over 60 down to high school girls that have used their 18th birthday present money to pay my fee. I've never taken a girl less than 18 years old, but younger girls have asked, and none have objected to my fee. Almost every one of my clients has asked about scheduling another date, no matter what her age."

I heard Dad mumble to himself, "Son of a bitch, I must be in the wrong business."

He looked me right in the eye and asked, "Just how much money do you make by being a gigolo?"

"At my current rate, if I did not have to take time off for school, I could make about $90,000 a year. Currently, I am taking in $1,775 a week after Jenny takes her cut." Uh-oh, I just blew it, big time! I had not intended to mention Jenny's part in this, but my tendency to run off at the mouth had spilled the beans.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'AFTER JENNY TAKES HER CUT'?"

Oh, shit! He noticed my slip of the tongue. Well, Dad will never give up now that he had heard that. At that point, the door opened and Jenny walked in. "I get my cut because I am his pimp! So what do you think of that?"

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