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The Best Thousand Dollars I Ever Spent
by Beating Off Bob (beatingoffbob@yahoo.com)

***

Brad Tarkenton was rich and powerful and... alone. He'd 
lost everything that meant anything to him. Now, on a 
business trip, he'd meet a woman who would surprise him 
and, possibly, even make his life complete. (story 
codes withheld by author's request)

***

Author's Note: Some codes, in this case, would spoil 
the suspense and surprise of the story's plot. For that 
reason this story may offend some readers.

***

CHAPTER ONE

Brad Tarkenton sat back in the plush seat of the 
corporate jet that was winging its way through the 
impossibly blue skies over the Ohio Valley. He gazed 
out of the window, intrigued by the irregular pattern 
of tilled and wooded land, juxtaposed against the 
little lines that represented highways and county roads 
that crisscrossed the earth far below him. Occasionally 
there were clusters of buildings... towns, he knew... 
though they just looked like patterns of dots from up 
this high. The tracts of forest looked smaller than he 
thought they'd be.

All in all, the land looked empty to the CEO of 
Amalgamated Industries, a multi-billion dollar 
consortium of companies that did business in forty-
seven countries around the world. To Brad, it looked 
like nobody lived in the Midwest. His jet had taken off 
from Reagan International and, for an hour, had flown 
over nothing but civilization. It was what Brad had 
once viewed as "progress". Now, seeing mother nature 
almost everywhere, he wondered about that. He idly 
thought that his view of things had changed quite a lot 
in the last few years.

He was on his way to Cleveland, a big city in this part 
of the country, but pitifully small from the air, when 
compared to the vast concrete jungles along the Eastern 
Corridor. He was on his way to a meeting with Josh 
Clinton, Amalgamated's regional Vice President for the 
Midwest, who was doing a truly impressive job of 
expanding the business into what had been thought to be 
a depressed market. He was doing so well, in fact, that 
the board deemed a visit from the CEO would impress on 
the young man how important it was to continue doing 
such stellar work. He was making the company money, and 
the board liked that.

Brad had met Josh only once, at a convention. He was 
typically handsome and in shape, a hard charger, but 
with a quiet air of confidence that didn't require that 
he fawn around the boss. He had chatted with Brad for 
only a few sentences and then, seeing that there were 
others in line to speak to the big man, had wandered 
off to network elsewhere. Brad had noticed he didn't 
have a young buxom tittering thing on his arm, like 
most of the other men who thought they were important 
did. 

When, several months later he'd gotten a wedding 
invitation from Josh he'd had his secretary send back 
his congratulations, along with an appropriately worded 
apology that he couldn't attend. And a check for twenty 
thousand dollars.

Brad hated weddings. He'd been through three of them 
himself. The first had been wonderful, when he stood 
there unbelieving as the love of his life slowly walked 
toward him. Elizabeth had been everything he could have 
dreamed of in a wife. They had been deliriously in love 
and she had insisted that they have children 
immediately. Samantha and then Phillip had swollen her 
belly and the world had been complete.

Until a drunk driver had taken her from him. The 
children were only seven and eight at the time, and all 
of them had been devastated.

But by then Brad had been on the fast track in the 
company, and was a mover and shaker. He'd sublimated 
his grief in his work, hiring house staff to care for 
his children while he spent nights at the office, 
building a kingdom in which to wall himself away from 
the world. And the pain of missing Elizabeth.

His corporate need for a wife had resulted in his 
marriage to Jane, introduced to him by a man he'd 
thought was his friend, but who, in fact, had convinced 
his sister to marry his main competition. She'd spied 
on Brad and reported everything he was doing to her 
brother, who undercut Brad, or tried to steal his 
ideas. But she'd done it poorly, and couldn't convince 
anyone she was in love with her husband. Word got out 
and there was a quiet divorce. It was quiet by virtue 
of the CEO at the time informing both brother and 
sister that careers would come to a screaming end if 
there were any noise... or demands in a settlement.

Jane had been heard screaming clear down in the 
basement, but the divorce was final with only a one 
time payout of "support" to the ex-wife.

Trudy had stepped into the void from the secretarial 
pool, and an affair turned into another marriage. 
Samantha, ten at the time, told her father in no 
uncertain terms that she didn't like the woman... that 
there was something wrong about her. 

He hadn't listened to her. After all she was only ten.

But time had proven Sam right when Trudy spent money 
like it was growing on trees and almost bankrupted 
Brad, who was making three hundred thousand a year at 
the time. Trudy hung on for three and a half years 
before Brad caught her with the pool boy and threw her 
out. His attorney convinced hers, who was working for a 
cut of the take, that the battle would be so long and 
so protracted that he would be an old man before he 
collected a cent if he didn't play ball. 

Trudy, like Jane before her, was heard to scream for 
quite some distance as she upbraided her lawyer for 
being spineless. But she too settled, for a fast buck, 
which she went through in less than two months. The 
last Brad had heard she was living in a house trailer, 
drunk most of the time, and a chain smoker. Someone 
told him she'd gained sixty pounds in the six months 
since he'd seen her.

By then his daughter wouldn't speak to him, and his son 
had been expelled from three private schools. He threw 
money at the 'problem' and went back to work, climbing 
further up the corporate ladder. He also quit trying to 
find a wife.

He never wanted for companionship, during those few 
brief hours he'd let his passions surface. For a man 
with as much money as he had there were always women 
who were more than happy to grab their fair share in 
exchange for spending a few hours naked with him.

Truth be told, though, Brad didn't dally all that 
often. More often than not, when all was said and done, 
and the girl was walking out the door, Brad felt like 
all he had done was engage in complicated masturbation.

The rift between his children and him grew wider. They 
wanted to go to public schools, but he invariably sent 
them to some academy where they would be taught how to 
be rich and successful. They hated him for it.

Nobody loved him... and he knew that. The one woman who 
had loved him was gone, never to return. When Samantha 
graduated from High School, a graduation he missed 
because he was in Pakistan sealing a multi-million 
dollar contract, he pulled some strings and got her an 
acceptance letter to Vasser. For reasons he couldn't 
understand, she wanted to go to a State University 
instead. During the resulting argument she had stormed 
out of the house and disappeared off the face of the 
earth. 

He paid private investigators thousands to find her, 
but they all came up empty. Her social security number 
was inactive, meaning she wasn't working anywhere, or 
at least wasn't using that number. He still didn't know 
where she was. Phillip graduated High School and 
somehow managed to garner straight F's in his first 
semester at Harvard, which had let him in only because 
of the three million dollar gift that had come with 
him. But his complete failure as a student got them off 
the hook. Not even Brad could demand he be given 
another chance. No one in the school's history had 
failed every class he had taken in the first semester. 

After that Phillip had gotten into trouble often enough 
that Brad had cut him off. The last Brad had heard from 
him was that he was in Arizona somewhere trying to 
start a home repair business, of all things. What 
Phillip knew about home repairs, Brad couldn't imagine. 
Brad's dictated letter back to his son had said "Good 
luck. It's a tough world out there." He had suspicions 
that Phillip knew where Sam was, but he could never get 
anything out of him.

Now, at age 42, one of the youngest CEOs in the big-
time corporate world, Brad had nothing to show for his 
life. Except the multi-million dollar income that he 
did practically nothing with. It was just money, and he 
had so much that it didn't mean anything any more. 
Elizabeth would have known what to do with it. She'd 
have been involved with dozens of philanthropic 
organizations, or would be a volunteer for who knows 
how many worthy causes. She'd have given a lot of his 
money to people who actually needed it to get their own 
lives on some kind of decent track.

But there was no Elizabeth, and he had a hard time 
caring about other people's troubles when he felt so 
sorry for himself.

At some point Brad Tarkenton had realized he was a 
heartless bastard. The only real use anyone had for him 
was if he died, and then they could all have a shot at 
getting some of all that lovely money he owned. He knew 
that too. It was no wonder nobody out there cared about 
anything except what he could do for them.

That realization was when he made some fundamental 
changes in his attitude and in his life. And, 
ironically, those changes were what had made 
Amalgamated Industries the success it was. He ran his 
business like no other business was run. Outsiders 
looked at the kinds of things he spent money on and 
shook their heads. They couldn't understand why the 
company succeeded. Had any of them taken the time to 
get a job inside Amalgamated... and watch, they would 
have understood within a month.

***

The company stewardess sashayed back toward his seat. 
The Lear jet seated sixteen in sumptuous comfort, but 
he was the only passenger. A lot of CEOs carted around 
an entourage large enough to take over whole floors of 
a hotel, but Brad wasn't interested in people hovering 
around him, sucking at his life force, trying to show 
over and over how badly he needed them. He had 
everything he needed on his laptop, and was glad to be 
away from his office, out of the crush of admirers and 
gold diggers.

What was her name? Oh yes... Jackie. Jackie approached 
him. "Mr. Tarkenton we're getting ready to land. Is 
your seat belt fastened? Is there anything I can do for 
you? Anything at all?" she simpered.

Brad knew what she hoped she could do for him, but Brad 
never played around inside the company. It was one of 
his hard and fast rules, ever since Trudy. You don't 
shit in the nest. It causes too many problems.

Not that she wasn't tempting. She was tall, and blond, 
with breasts almost bursting from her uniform blouse, 
which was tailored to fit her like a second skin. It 
was also just barely translucent, enough so that one 
could see the lacy pattern of her Victoria's Secret bra 
through it. She just oozed sexual gratification. But so 
did all those women who took his money and then either 
lay there like they were bored, or engaged in theatrics 
that any movie-goer would demand his money back after 
enduring.

None the less, as Jackie bent over him, showing him her 
cleavage, Brad felt his lap dragon stirring in its 
lair, lifting its nose to sniff the air.

"Thanks, but I'm fine." said Brad in his well-modulated 
bass voice. "You've been spectacular Jackie. I'll put 
in a good word for you." In the beginning of the flight 
she had served him a drink and made it crystal clear 
that she was his for the taking if he wanted - right 
there on the plane if he so desired. He'd taken the 
drink and smiled that carefully cultivated smile that 
made people think they'd gotten much farther with him 
than they ever would. Then he'd read the Wall Street 
Journal and looked out the window. 

Jackie wasn't stupid, and didn't press things. She 
spent the rest of the flight filing her three hundred 
dollar fake nails and talking to the Pilot and Copilot, 
probably seeing if they wanted to do a threesome during 
the three day layover while they waited for the Boss to 
do whatever he was going to do and then fly back home.

There was a limo waiting for him when he got off the 
plane, sitting not fifteen feet from the bottom of the 
stairs, door open, Chauffer at attention. Brad got in 
and told the driver to wait for the crew. That was one 
of the things that had made him so popular with his 
work force. He didn't put on airs, even though airs 
were all around him. They'd be staying at the same 
hotel he was staying at, eating on the same expense 
account as he did. 

He took good care of his people and he expected them to 
take good care of him. It worked. People like his 'good 
buddy', who had used his own sister to try to get ahead 
in the company didn't last long in Amalgamated. And 
they didn't get good jobs when they left either, even 
if they sought jobs with the competition. If Brad 
Tarkenton didn't like you... very few people would take 
a chance on you.

The crew piled in and chatted amiably on the way to the 
hotel. They split off once they got there, heading for 
the elevators. They already knew what rooms they'd been 
assigned to, and that the rooms would be open and 
ready, with a bell boy standing by to present them with 
keys and handle the luggage when it came up. 

Brad went to the desk, however, to let them see his 
face. He'd found that that made hotel staff much more 
attentive. He acted like a 'regular guy', even though 
everybody in the place knew that he was somebody very 
important. The Amalgamated staff in Cleveland had 
ensured that. He collected the message he knew would be 
there. It said "Whenever you're ready." and was signed 
"Josh". Brad knew that the limo would be sitting out 
front, waiting for him whenever he felt like going over 
to the Cleveland offices.

On impulse Brad told the concierge to just have his bag 
put in the room and then turned and went right back 
outside. He hadn't made it ten feet past the front 
doors when the driver was out of the car, hurriedly 
putting on his cap and racing for the door. He made it 
just as Brad got there and wrenched it open.

"Sorry sir... didn't expect you quite this soon."

"Relax, George" said Brad. 

That was something else he made sure to do. He knew the 
names of everyone he was likely to meet on this trip. 
His staff was used to this quirk and had lists prepared 
for him ahead of time. It was something they 
appreciated and took pains to make sure got done 
correctly. When a limo had been hired, the driver's 
name had been added to the list.

Brad spoke to the driver. "We're not in a hurry. Why 
don't you show me a little bit of Cleveland?"

"Yes sir." said the driver, surprised at how this fat 
cat treated him like a real human being. That was 
unusual.

There was a speaker system in the limo, which George 
used for the first seven or eight blocks, until Brad 
suggested it would be a lot easier if he just sat up 
front. George, astonished, pulled over, but couldn't 
make it completely out of the driver's door before Brad 
was out of the car and heading for the suicide seat. 
George climbed back in just as the customer settled 
back into the front seat and slammed the door.

"Sorry sir." he said automatically.

"I said relax. We'll be all formal later. For now, just 
show me your town."

Brad engaged in one of his favorite hobbies. What had 
gotten him to the top was his ability to put himself on 
the level of whoever he was dealing with. It wasn't 
mercenary, but he applied himself to the game is if 
everything hinged on making whoever he was dealing with 
want to be his friend. With people like George, it was 
for fun. He met some of the most interesting people at 
levels of society much lower than what most people 
would consider his to be. And, oddly enough, most of 
those worker bees never actually wanted a whole lot 
from him. 

If they worked for Brad Tarkenton they were already 
paid well, and knew it, and most of them had no concept 
of what it was like to be able to write a check for 
fifty or a hundred thousand dollars and never miss it. 
And so, when he "mixed with the rabble" as one senior 
vice president had once put it - a senior vice 
president who was now enjoying very early retirement - 
he usually had a lot more fun than when he was wheeling 
and dealing with the other corporate sharks who swam in 
his normal waters.

It wasn't love, but it was about as close as Brad 
thought he might get to having worthwhile 
relationships.

And so, for the next hour, Brad made another lifelong 
admirer as George showed him what George thought was 
great about Cleveland, including his own modest 
bungalow, wherein sat his wife, Claudette and five "rug 
rats", as George called them, named Mikey, Nicole, 
Charlene, Jimmy and Jake.

"Five kids?" asked Brad. "Impressive."

"You married?" ventured George.

"Tried it three times and gave up." said Brad. "Turns 
out I'm not the masochist I thought I was."

George chuckled, but then sobered. "Too bad. I don't 
know what I'd do without Claudette. She keeps me 
honest... not to mention worn out so I don't chase 
after other women." He grinned, the equivalent of the 
'wink wink, nudge nudge' that men share in bars as they 
brag about their exploits or prowess. "She wants to 
have another one! Claims she loves being pregnant. I 
don't understand that at all. Seems like all she does 
when she's all swollen up is complain about her back 
and how often she has to pee." George ventured further. 
"How 'bout you? Got any kids?"

"Two" said Brad. "Neither of whom wants to have 
anything to do with me."

"Sucks" commented George.

"Yeah, I screwed it up." said Brad.

"Important guy like you?" said George. "I'd think 
they'd be all about loving dear old Daddy."

"There's more important things in the world than money, 
George. Remember that. You're richer by far than I am 
just because you have Claudette and all those ankle 
biters waiting for you at home." Brad could speak the 
language too.

"Too bad." commiserated George. Knowing that the mood 
had soured a little, and being a professional, despite 
the unusualness of the current situation, George said 
"Well, that's about it. Cleveland Ohio at its best. 
Where to now, boss?"

"I've got a dinner appointment in an hour." said Brad. 
"Just drop me at the Riverview Room at the Ritz. I'll 
have a few drinks while I wait."

"You're the boss... boss, but I have to tell you, you 
aren't going to meet the dress code." said George. 
"That's a white glove kind of place."

"Believe it or not, George, that's one of the things 
money is actually good for." smiled Brad. "I imagine 
that none of the other diners will even know I'm 
there."

Twenty minutes later Brad was back in the "expensive 
seats" as George called them, and waited for George to 
do his job. George opened the door and leaned in, 
pointing. "Sir, that compartment over there... it has a 
selection of ties in it. At least take one with you." 

Brad opened the compartment. Selection wasn't the word. 
There were probably thirty ties on a pull out rack. He 
chose a muted blue, with thin red stripes that he knew 
would go with the suit he was wearing. 

As Brad exited the car George said in hushed tones. 
"Ah... sir?... if you decide you'd like some company 
while you're in town... I'm familiar with all the 
best... escort services. I could make the arrangements 
while you're eating." 

"Thanks George, but not tonight." said Brad.

"Very good sir." responded George, firmly back in his 
usual role. "I'll be here if there are any... 
problems... with the dress code." George handed Brad 
what looked like a cross between a cell phone and a 
pager. "Just press any button if you need me."

A doorman took over five feet from the car. "Ah, mister 
Tarkenton, so good you could dine with us tonight. 
Andre is waiting to show you to your private dining 
room." he said, making it obvious he wasn't looking at 
Brad's open collar. Brad smiled as he heard George 
snort softly and the limo door clicked shut.

Josh and his wife, Julie, arrived thirty minutes later. 
While Josh apologized for being late, even though he 
wasn't, and said that if they'd known he would be early 
they would have been early too, Brad examined Julie. 

If she was a trophy wife, Josh had chosen well. She was 
spectacularly beautiful, with the sultry look that some 
women had that brought every male in sight to the edge 
of his seat. Tall and what would have been slim, but 
for the bulging abdomen sheathed in a dress that had to 
have cost a thousand dollars, she had long dark brown 
hair that fell carelessly past her shoulders. The dress 
cradled breasts that looked perfectly capable of 
feeding quadruplets already, showing cleavage deep 
enough to secure a Palm Pilot in. 

She was obviously four or five months pregnant, and 
every man who saw her had fleeting fantasies that he 
had been the one to plant that baby. She was beyond 
gorgeous, with makeup that looked like it had been 
professionally applied. She knew how to walk, how to 
smile, and how to break into her husband's babbling to 
say "Hi, I'm Julie." She said it with just the right 
timbre in her voice "I've heard so much about you. It's 
a pleasure to meet the man behind Amalgamated."

Had Josh not been there, Brad might have asked this 
vision of loveliness if she needed a husband.

But Josh was there, so Brad tore his gaze off the 
stunning woman and paid a little attention to his 
regional vice president in charge of development, who 
was red-faced at having forgotten to introduce his 
wife. They sat and talked about nothing more important 
than the menu and wine list, which was as extensive as 
any in a fine restaurant in New York. Then, over an 
aperitif and some appetizers, Josh made a valiant 
attempt at trying to find out, without coming right out 
and asking, why the big boss had come to little 
backwater Cleveland.

Again Julie broke into the conversation. "Darling, Mr. 
Tarkenton will tell you why he's come when he's ready 
to tell you why he's come. For now let's just enjoy his 
company and get to know him a little."

Brad's opinion of her went up another notch. She enough 
faith in her husband to believe that this visit was not 
sinister. She was either relaxed and comfortable, or 
the best actress Brad had ever seen.

Brad went with his impulse again. "Actually, let's just 
get that out of the way right now. Then we can give our 
full attention to relaxing." He turned toward Julie. 
"And please, call me Brad. I don't stand much on 
formality."

"How refreshing." she said in her beautifully modulated 
voice. "A stuffed shirt who isn't stuffy." She smiled 
beautifully, suggesting that the barb was all in good 
fun.

"Bunny!" gasped her husband. "You can't talk to the CEO 
of the company that way!"

"Bunny?" asked Brad. "My staff made no mention of any 
name other than Julie Diane."

Julie arched her eyebrow. "Your staff... inquired about 
me?" Her tone indicated that she thought such a thing 
might be both frivolous and, perhaps, even 
objectionable.

"Julie!" barked Josh. He was pale and was beginning to 
look worried, rather than embarrassed.

Brad held up one hand, his palm toward Josh. "Let her 
be Josh. She's new to the family and doesn't know how 
things work."

Julie somehow looked both gorgeous and hostile at the 
same time. It was disconcerting, or would have been to 
a lesser man. "Yes... Josh, shut up and let MISTER 
Tarkenton tell me how things work. Maybe Jasmine was 
right after all?"

"Jasmine?" said Brad. "Another name my staff missed. 
They'll be very disappointed."

Julie just waited, poised and cool, her dark eyed stare 
firmly on Brad.

"I like to know the names of people I might meet." said 
Brad. "I feel like people will be more receptive if I 
can call them by name, rather than going through all 
the social niceties of formal introductions." 

She didn't smile. "So you game people and make them 
think you care who they are."

"Oh Julie PLEASE don't do this." moaned Josh.

Julie had a mind of her own, however. "I have a friend, 
a girl I used to work with. She tried to talk me out of 
marrying Josh because she says the only guy she knows 
who works for Amalgamated is a bastard. She says he 
doesn't care about anything except making money and 
being powerful. I didn't listen to her Mr. Tarkenton. I 
love my husband very much, but maybe Jasmine wasn't so 
far off the mark."

Brad loved this woman. She could think. She had guts. 
She didn't back down or whimper at the thought that she 
might be ending the career of her husband. And with a 
baby on the way she HAD to know this wasn't a good time 
for said husband to be changing jobs. But she had the 
courage of her convictions.

"Well, you've raised several points." said Brad calmly. 
"Let me take them in order. First, if I didn't care 
about the people whose names I memorize, then why would 
I make the effort to do that. How would I even remember 
such information if it wasn't important to me? For 
example, the driver of my limo is named George. He's 
married to Claudette and has five children, two girls, 
Charlene and Nicole, and three boys, Jimmy, Jake and 
Mike. 

"Now I may never need that information. But the fact is 
that George is a nice guy, and if I can remember his 
kids names if I ever see him again, and ask about them, 
it will make George feel good. I suppose you could 
assume that the only reason I'd do that is so that if I 
wanted something from George I could game him. But I 
don't really think there's all that much George could 
do for me that he isn't already being paid to do."

There was a momentary startled look in Julie's eyes, 
and they lost the hard glint that had been there 
before. Brad also saw her jaw unclench slightly.

"Now," he went on, "my staff knows how I feel about 
that. They like me to be prepared, because they like me 
to be happy. So they take their responsibilities 
ridiculously seriously. That's what I meant when I said 
they'd be disappointed to find out you have a nick 
name. What's listed in Josh's employee records is that 
he's married to Julie Diane. I imagine there's no 
information there about "Bunny". But that's OK. I like 
to talk to people to get to know them, and too MUCH 
background information can be detrimental there. For 
example, if I knew all about "Bunny" I couldn't be 
curious and ask you how you got that name.

Julie's blinked. She was thawing, but still pretty 
cold.

Brad smiled again. "And I was kidding about how my 
staff will be unhappy because they didn't know about 
'Jasmine'. They don't pry into what your friend's names 
are. If you were a business competitor, perhaps, but we 
don't do that to a member of the family. If your 
birthday, or anniversary was coming up soon, or had 
just passed, they'd have told me about that. But that's 
about as far as they go in their inquiries."

Julie sat back in her chair and her fingers relaxed 
where they were interlaced over her baby's bulge. It 
was a protective posture, but her relaxed frame made it 
look loving, rather than defensive.

Brad continued. "As for what Jasmine thinks about the 
man she knows, that's important to me. If she's right, 
and all he cares about is making money, then Josh and I 
will have to do something about that. That's not the 
kind of employee I want working for me. Money is 
important, but not more important than our relationship 
with our customers. It is, after all, our customers who 
bring us repeat business, and its repeat business that 
generates profits. So while I may not have needed to 
know about Jasmine before I met you, I certainly need 
to know now."

Julie was less belligerent. "Jasmine isn't a customer, 
and never will be." she said. "So why care?"

Brad nodded. "We certainly don't need Jasmine out there 
in the world telling people that Amalgamated has a 
bunch of bastards running the show. That's not good for 
business either. And, for that matter, she's a 
prospective employee, but only if she thinks well of 
the company. So her opinion DOES matter."

Julie laughed then. "I doubt seriously that Amalgamated 
could afford to hire Jasmine. Not if they're going to 
pay her more than she already makes."

Josh jerked. "Julie, I'd like it very much if you were 
quiet now."

Julie laid one hand on his arm. "Oh darling, you're so 
up tight sometimes. Brad isn't mad at me, and I don't 
think he's mad at you either." She looked at Brad with 
eyes that were somehow very cognizant that she was 
correct.

Brad smiled widely. "Josh, she is completely correct. 
You can learn something from your lovely wife tonight, 
and that is that I appreciate candor, and I want people 
to be able to tell me what they think without being 
afraid of retribution. If I'm acting like a rat 
bastard, how will I ever know if nobody ever tells me?"

Two waiters appeared with a flourish and began serving 
them. There was too much activity to continue the 
conversation until the table had been set and the 
dishes arranged to everyone's satisfaction. The food 
was excellent

Again it was Julie who spoke first. "So? You never did 
say why you were here." She dabbed her perfectly 
lipsticked lips with one corner of a linen napkin.

Josh choked, but got himself under control. 

Brad chuckled. "You're right. I got distracted." He 
looked at Josh and cleared his throat. In a very 
serious voice he said: "Josh, you're doing a great job 
and the board is very happy with you." Brad went back 
to eating, forking a piece of prime rib into his mouth.

Julie had frozen, her fork halfway to her mouth. She 
put the fork down on her plate. "That's it?" she asked. 
"Good job? Pat on the back? You came all this way just 
to say 'Attaboy!'? No promotion?"

Josh started choking again.

Brad looked up and swallowed. "Julie, he's a regional 
vice president at age thirty. That's phenomenal. To 
move up he'd have to displace a person with ten years 
seniority over him and three times the experience."

Julie picked up her fork again. "Good. I don't want to 
move away from Cleveland just yet." She smiled her 
dazzling smile and began to eat.

Josh slumped in his chair. 

Brad spoke one last time before giving the prime rib 
the attention it deserved. "Josh I can see part of why 
you're doing so well." It was an unabashed compliment 
to the woman who had just bearded the lion in its den. 
She knew it, and she flushed with pleasure. That flush 
went clear down to her chest. Somehow it made her 
breasts look even bigger.

The rest of dinner was pleasant, and Josh actually got 
to say some things to his boss, instead of trying to 
ride herd on his wife. Julie, for her part, said 
little, though everything she did talk about was light 
hearted and non-controversial.

Julie did prompt her husband occasionally, such as when 
she said "Josh, aren't you going to ask him about 
tomorrow night?"

Josh looked uncomfortable as he faced his boss. "Well, 
there's a get together with some of the customer base 
and some contractors we do a lot of subcontracting 
with. But it's one of those couples buffet dance kinds 
of things, so I didn't know if you'd be interested in 
attending or not." He left unsaid that Brad didn't have 
a wife to take to such an affair, and Brad knew it.

"I'm used to attending such functions stag." said Brad. 
He looked at Julie, who had perked up at the statement 
for some reason. "I've been married three times and two 
of them didn't work out." he said.

"Well, then that means one did." said Julie, using that 
engaging smile she was so good at. "It's a shame you 
didn't bring number three along on this trip. I'd love 
to meet her."

Josh groaned.

Brad was slightly disappointed in his regional vice 
president for development in Cleveland, who had not 
explained some things to his wife that would have 
prevented her from making the social gaff she had just 
committed. But it wasn't Julie's fault. "It was number 
one who worked out, but she died. I tried to replace 
her twice, but it turned out she was irreplaceable."

Julie paled. "Oh Brad, I'm so sorry." she said softly. 
"I didn't know."

Josh jumped as his wife's foot connected solidly with 
his shin. Brad pretended he hadn't seen it. "It's OK." 
he said.

"It's sad." she said back. "And what makes it even 
sadder is that you've given up on women, haven't you?"

"Oh Julie, for pity's sake!" moaned the Amalgamated 
vice president for development in Cleveland.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" she said, all perky again.

"I have to admit you're correct." said Brad. "The women 
I meet now just seem interested in either power or 
money, but not in me."

"Well, we're not all like that." said Julie. "You're 
too nice a man to go through the rest of your life 
alone."

Brad laughed. "Suddenly I'm a nice man?"

"I think so." said Julie, as if he hadn't referred to 
her confrontation of him only half an hour before. "And 
I know several women who would think so too."

"Ohhh I'm toast" moaned Josh.

His wife shot him a look and then centered her 
attention back on Brad. "How about I get you a date for 
tomorrow night. I can think of several women I used to 
work with who would be perfect."

"BUNNY!" croaked Josh.

"Oh hush." said Julie. "Brad is the kind of man who 
will find out about it some day anyway." She faced Brad 
and took a breath. It did fabulous things to her 
cleavage. "Before I married Josh I worked for an escort 
service."

Several things became clear in Brad's mind immediately. 
Her suave demeanor, her appearance, her familiarity 
with formal dining, her excellent taste in clothing. 
All those things, despite her youth, were explained by 
the fact that she'd been a hooker. No, not just a 
hooker... a call girl, and an expensive one, if Brad 
knew his stuff. And Brad knew his stuff when it came to 
expensive call girls. She hadn't completely adjusted to 
her new life, though. She was tense again, nervous, 
expecting her husband's boss to sneer.

Brad didn't sneer. "Well, that suggests that you didn't 
marry Josh for his money." he said. "Based on our short 
acquaintance I'd bet that you took a cut in salary when 
you married him." He didn't suggest she was still 
employed. She didn't seem like the type.

"Why thank you." she beamed. "I DID lose money on the 
deal." She winked at Brad. "But he was such a sweet 
boy, and so needy, and there ARE certain 
compensations." She patted her swollen belly.

"And I'm sure your friends are just as beautiful and 
educated and fun to be with as yourself," said Brad, 
"but I've tried that too, and it has left much to be 
desired."

"Well," said Julie. She was sizing Brad up like she'd 
have sized up a customer in her sordid past. She had 
been very good at sizing up customers, which was why, 
when Josh had begged her to leave that life, she had 
taken the chance. "There are escorts, and then there 
are escorts. Here in Cleveland sex is optional, and the 
girl I have in mind for you is fun to be around under 
any circumstances. In fact, I don't know if she'd even 
agree to go. I was thinking of Jasmine. You said you 
cared about what she thought of Amalgamated, or at 
least the guy she was talking about. This would be your 
chance to find out. What do you say Brad?"

For a third time on this trip, Brad went with his 
instinct. "Call her."

Julie smiled. "Don't you even want to know how much she 
charges?"

Brad smiled tightly. "If you have to ask, you can't 
afford it."

Julie smiled again. "Yes... there is that."

Julie went to the powder room while the men paid the 
bill. Brad looked around for the waiter, but Josh laid 
one hand on his arm. "It's already arranged." he said. 
"They're billing it to my account." He looked nervous. 
"About Julie..." he said.

Brad stood up. "Josh, who you marry is your business. 
That you chose well is something I applaud. If you're 
lucky enough to be in love, don't ever let anything 
tear you apart. I like her Josh."

Josh was so relieved that there were tears in his eyes. 
"This is so stupid." he said, wiping them.

Brad clapped him on the back. "Love leaves us big tough 
men defenseless. Don't worry about it." Then he 
whispered. "Tell me about 'Bunny', quickly, before she 
gets back."

Josh's head jerked. But then he smiled. "It was her 
working name. So the men wouldn't know who she really 
was. Those women get stalked a lot."

Brad nodded as they both watched Josh's beautiful 
pregnant wife walk gracefully across the room. The eyes 
of every man in the place followed her. "I can see why, 
Josh... I can see why."

***

Somehow George knew that Brad was coming out, because 
the limo was parked at the curb and George was standing 
at attention with the door open. Josh and Julie walked 
Brad to the door.

"Hi George, isn't it a beautiful night?" asked Julie.

George didn't bat an eye. "It certainly is Miss Bunny. 
Congratulations to you both about your baby." It was 
obvious, thought not surprising, that George and Julie 
knew each other. After all, women who charged what 
Bunny had charged to be with a man most often got 
picked up and dropped off in limousines.

"Thank you George" said Julie and she kissed him on the 
cheek as he blushed.

"I'm telling Claudette the next time I see her." joked 
Brad getting in the car.

"We'll call you about tomorrow night." said Julie.

George closed the door and Brad watched Josh put his 
arm around his wife's waist and walk her toward the 
parking garage.

George knew where to go, and started there without 
being told. The ride was silent, but when they stopped 
and George opened the door for him, Brad spoke as he 
got out. "Is she a good woman George?"

They both knew he was asking about Julie, and not 
Claudette.

"Yes sir, that whole bunch are good women. They have 
class sir."

"Good... that's good." said Brad. Then he went into his 
hotel and to bed.


CHAPTER TWO


Brad spent the next morning being shown around the 
various departments and offices in which Amalgamated's 
Cleveland operation was housed. Brad worked his magic 
with various people and left a trail of happy employees 
in his path. Josh trailed along, watching how it was 
done.

"You really do care about people, don't you?" he said 
at one point.

"They're who make you look good." said Brad simply.

Josh invited Brad out to lunch at another fancy 
restaurant, but Brad insisted on eating in the company 
cafeteria, where he sat with and talked to three of the 
janitorial staff, telling jokes and listening to 
several comments and complaints. 

As they left the cafeteria Josh's phone went off and he 
answered it. He listened and then said "You're kidding. 
She said that? OK.. I'll tell him. Yeah, I'll call you 
right back if there's a problem. OK, I love you." He 
turned to Brad. That was Julie. Jasmine agreed to 
escort you tonight, but there are a couple of 
conditions."

"Conditions?"

"Yeah. Julie just said to tell you what they were and 
for me not to ask any questions. If you don't want to 
do it, then I'm supposed to call her back."

"What conditions?" asked Brad.

"First of all, it's costing you a thousand dollars."

Brad nodded. He wasn't surprised.

"Second, you have to wear a charcoal colored single 
breasted suit instead of a tux. Oh, and your cuff links 
or other jewelry cannot be gold colored." 

Brad nodded again. For enough money a suit could be 
tailor-made in three or four hours.

"And lastly, you're to keep your mouth shut." Josh 
looked helplessly at Brad.

"About what?" asked Brad, intrigued despite himself.

"She didn't say. Julie said she asked the same 
question, but all Jasmine would say is that you have to 
promise to keep your mouth shut. Maybe she means about 
Amalgamated... like she's afraid you're going to try to 
change her mind or something."

"How strange." said Brad. This wasn't the way the 
average high class hooker behaved. "What the hell? I'm 
in. I haven't had a date for quite a while. Maybe 
she'll challenge me enough to make it interesting."

Josh sighed. "Julie said you're supposed to pick us up 
in the limo. She arranged it all with George. Sometimes 
I wonder if I did the right thing." He was obviously 
referring to marrying a former call girl.

"You did the perfect thing, as far as I can tell." said 
Brad. "You did the perfect thing, Josh."

Brad had George take him to a little shop George knew 
about and he ordered the suit. It would be delivered to 
his hotel room by six thirty. Then Brad made some grip 
and grin calls in the afternoon, meeting with the Mayor 
and a few other politicians who appreciated the jobs 
and revenue that Amalgamated was creating in the city. 

After that he surprised George again by inviting the 
whole family out to an early dinner that evening. 
George made a call and talked quietly for a few minutes 
before hanging up. He looked a little uncertain. "She 
was reluctant. Riding herd on all the kids in a 
restaurant is a chore." he said. But she said to call 
back and tell her where we'll be and she'll meet us."

"Nonsense" said Brad. "You're my guests. Have the kids 
ever ridden in the limo?"

"Not a chance." said George. "They pester me about it 
all the time, but I know better."

"Well today they get their chance." said Brad. "I'll 
square it with your employer." Brad made a phone call 
of his own, which George didn't hear.

To be honest, it WAS pandemonium when the limo pulled 
up to George's house and the whole clan came screaming 
out, followed by an obviously frazzled Claudette. 
George was mobbed by all his rug rats.

Brad helped get all the kids strapped into the seats 
and called up an address to George. "One more stop" he 
said to Claudette, who was nervously watching the 
children to make sure they didn't damage anything. 

George scratched his head, but drove to the address, 
which had nothing to do with eating. There was a group 
of five women standing on the curb waiting.

Brad told him to stop and let the women in. "I'd like 
you to meet your babysitters for the evening." said 
Brad. I arranged for them through my company. They'll 
each take a child so you two can relax. The women 
climbed in and there was a disorganized game of 
choosing which woman would go with each child. Both the 
women and the children negotiated until everybody, 
meaning the kids, were happy. 

"Pufferbelly's, George" announced Brad. There were 
shouts of approval from the kids.

It was a great time for all of them. The children got 
to play on the trains and firefighting equipment 
Pufferbelly's was famous for, as well as choose 
whatever they wanted for dinner. George and Claudette 
were nervous at first, but the nannies, and whatever 
child they were tending, checked in frequently with 
them. Soon it became obvious that the children were in 
good hands and the adults got to enjoy their own food.

When it was all over Brad got a kiss from Claudette. 
"You're a nice man." she said, being a woman of few 
words. Then she herded the kids back into the house and 
Brad went back to the hotel to get ready for the party 
that night.

George picked Brad up at eight. There had been a change 
in plans, and Josh and Julie were already in the limo. 
Julie looked fabulous, in another gown that had been 
tailor made for her pregnant body. It glistened in the 
interior lights of the car and was cut so low between 
her breasts that the top of the bulge made by her baby 
was visible. 

Brad could see the undersides of her bountiful breasts, 
and they weren't sagging much. The material of the gown 
was thin as well, and her nipples showed prominent 
bumps through it. She wore a diamond choker and her 
hair was up, with glistening diamond pins in it to hold 
it in place. He felt a tightness in his groin as she 
smiled at him.

"You should save those kinds of looks for your date, 
Brad." she said as she batted her eyelashes at him, 
teasing.

"If my date looks half as good as you do I may not make 
it through the night." he said back.

Josh just beamed. He was proud to be with this woman 
and it showed. "Jasmine is almost as beautiful as my 
lovely bride." he said, looking sideways at Julie, 
quite obviously at her breasts.

"Jasmine has always made me look like a hag." 
complained Julie, but she smiled.

"Well she has interesting rules." said Brad. He had 
fifty crisp hundred dollar bills in the inside pocket 
of his new suit. Ten of them were for Jasmine. The rest 
were for contingencies. You never knew for sure what an 
evening would entail when you were with a girl like 
Julie and her former peers.

"I had to talk hard to get her to come." said Julie. 
"You'd better be nice tonight. My reputation is riding 
on you."

"I'm honored that you have such faith in me." said 
Brad.

"I'm a fair judge of character." said Julie, making it 
a compliment. "And Jasmine knows that. When I told her 
you were OK she said she'd trust me, but would reserve 
judgment on an Amalgamated bigwig until she actually 
spends some time with you."

It was a short drive to one of the other fine hotels in 
town. Brad knew that a lot of the higher class call 
girls lived in hotels, but if Jasmine lived in this 
one, she was very high class indeed. When they arrived 
Julie jumped for the door before George could even get 
his opened, and she dashed toward the long red carpet 
that led to the entrance of the hotel. "Be right back!" 
she yelled.

The dichotomy of a woman dressed as well as Julie was, 
and pregnant to boot, sprinting along the red carpet 
like a little girl, made both men laugh. The doorman, a 
silver-haired gentleman of at least sixty, looked up 
with a frown, but his face creased into a grin as Brad 
heard him call Bunny's name. She crashed into the 
liveried man, giving him a hug that pressed her baby 
well against his stomach. He protested, and pushed her 
back, as a good doorman would do, but it was clear they 
were glad to see each other. She took his hand and put 
it on her swollen abdomen. The men in the car heard her 
say "Feel! Isn't it just WONDERFUL?!"

"That's one of the things I love about her." said Josh. 
"She's just so full of life. She makes everything into 
a game about being happy and loving people.

Brad felt tears trying to build up in his eyes. That 
was how Elizabeth had been. She had loved everything 
and everybody, almost never seeing the down side of 
anything. His vision blurred a little as he blinked 
away the tears. He left his hands in his lap. No sense 
letting a subordinate know that he was an emotional 
boob.

It was for that reason - the half formed tears in his 
eyes - that when Brad saw two women walking toward the 
limo he couldn't see them as well as he'd have liked. 
One was Julie. Her form made that obvious. She was arm-
in-arm with another slightly taller woman and they were 
walking in step. They walked in that gait that runway 
models use, a long stride that makes everything move on 
them and draws the attention of everyone within sight. 

The other woman had raven black hair that hung straight 
to the tops of her buttocks. It had to weigh four 
pounds, even though the wind created by their ground-
covering walk made it fan out behind her a little. She 
was wearing high heels and a dress that looked for all 
the world like it had been liquid at some point and was 
poured carefully onto her shoulders. Then it had flowed 
down, covering most of her breasts, to mold itself to 
her flat stomach and hips that swelled suddenly 
outwards to become the base for long slim legs. The 
dress ended in an uneven hem, made up of strips of 
flimsy cloth that fluttered as she walked. 

Both women looked like any two young up-and-coming 
twenty-somethings, their hips rising and falling like 
those of a hunting cat as they strode confidently 
toward the limo. There was no girlishness about Julie 
now. She was all grown up, and she and the woman with 
her were the very picture of sexuality. That Julie was 
pregnant, and the other woman's stomach was board flat 
just set each of them off in their own way. Both were 
beautiful in the way that feminists just hated, because 
all little girls dreamed of looking like that, even 
though most had no hope.

Brad couldn't decide whether to watch Julie's bobbing 
breasts, or those of his date. His date's dress didn't 
cut quite as low as Julie's, but it went to the bottom 
of her breasts and then scooped widely out, turning 
into spaghetti straps that went up and over her 
shoulders. The gown was various shades of blue, some 
going to gray, which explained why she had specified 
his suit be charcoal colored. 

Her dress would be set off by his suit like she was on 
display, not that any man would be concentrating on the 
dress. Her breasts, too, lifted and fell as her stride 
lifted them and then fell away, letting them drop. They 
didn't so much bounce as jiggle delightfully. She 
obviously wasn't wearing a bra, and the dress was so 
flimsy that it didn't have the strength to control her 
breasts.

There was a little breeze and her long hair flowed away 
from her body a little. It was like a cape. She 
suddenly stopped and turned, waving at the doorman, who 
was standing there with a smile on his face a mile 
wide. There wasn't a man in the world who wouldn't 
smile as he watched these women walk. "I may be late." 
her tinkling soprano voice called to the man old enough 
to be her grandfather. "I don't know for sure yet."

Brad blinked. There was no back to her dress. 
Literally, the spaghetti straps came over her shoulders 
and fastened to the sides of the dress under her arms 
where it wrapped around her sides. But those sides did 
not come together across her back. Rather they dipped 
down so low that you could see the crack of her ass, or 
could if her hair wasn't covering it. No bra, and no 
panties either. Sex might be optional, but she was 
dressed for the occasion if it arose. 

Her statement to the doorman had not been necessary 
either. She was letting Brad know that nothing was a 
sure thing about tonight.

Brad blinked again as the women started to climb into 
the limo, George now tending the door for both of them. 
Brad knew he'd be treated to hanging breasts in dresses 
that weren't designed for bending over, and he wanted 
to be able to see them, Julie's included.

"Good evening George." said Brad's date, obviously 
familiar with him like Julie was.

"Good evening Miss Jasmine" he said. "It's always good 
to have you riding along."

There was something about her voice that made Brad's 
ears perk up. And, when she entered the limo, she did 
indeed show off just about everything she had. The 
dress fell away from full breasts, dark nippled. Those 
nipples were long and looked erect to Brad. The woman 
was excited. Brad had a quick glimpse of dangling 
silver earrings and a necklace that had a dark blue 
stone in it as big as a hen's egg, surrounded by silver 
and diamonds. She began to settle herself beside him as 
Julie climbed in. Brad grabbed one quick glimpse of 
Julie's breasts and then turned his attention to 
Jasmine.

It was then that things clicked in his mind. He 
suddenly knew why Jasmine hated Amalgamated. And he 
knew why he was required to keep his mouth shut 
tonight... and what he was required to keep his mouth 
shut about.

Jasmine... his beautiful sexy date... a thousand-
dollar-a-night hooker... was, in reality, Samantha 
Tarkenton, his daughter.

***

You couldn't tell it from the way she acted. "Good 
evening Brad... I'm Jasmine." She held out one slim, 
manicured hand. Training brought his own hand up and he 
touched his daughter for the first time in five years.

"I'm truly astonished." he managed to say.

Julie giggled. "I told you she put me to shame."

The ride to the hall was a dark, mist-filled time for 
Brad, as he tried to wrap his mind around the events 
unfolding around him. There was chatter between Julie 
and Jasmine, with Josh chiming in occasionally. He had 
obviously met... perhaps even... well, suffice it to 
say Josh knew Jasmine. Brad wasn't sure how he felt 
about what Josh and Jasmine may have done together. 

He knew he commented about something, though he had no 
idea what it was, or what he had said. Both women 
laughed, though, and he felt a strange warmth in his 
chest as Jasmine's smile lit up the inside of the car. 
Otherwise he was silent as thoughts and emotions chased 
themselves around in his mind, like ghosts he couldn't 
quite see, but knew were there.

Julie noticed. She looked at him strangely, as if she 
didn't understand what kind of man she was seeing. "I 
know she's beautiful Brad, but I didn't think you'd be 
struck dumb."

Jasmine's laugh tinkled. "We'll have plenty of time to 
talk later, when he gets more used to me. Brad probably 
hasn't been around a woman like me much before." She 
turned to Brad and her eyes nailed him to the seat. 
"Have you Brad? I'd imagine you have more dates with... 
secretaries... or perhaps women introduced to you by 
colleagues... isn't that right... Brad?"

Brad woke up enough to hear the daggers in that simple 
suggestion. "Not any more." he said heavily. "Not for a 
long time."

Jasmine laughed again. "Goody. I just love being with a 
man who hasn't... dated... for a long time." That 
brought a giggle from Julie too.

The limo was rolling to a stop in front of another long 
red carpet. Brad was beginning to get himself back 
under control. He took Jasmine's hand and said "Well, 
then, I'm sure you'll have a fabulous time tonight." 
That brought a laugh from Josh and a long drawn out 
"Ooooooo" from Julie.

Jasmine didn't say a word.

She did, however, let him get out first, and help her 
out, and she took his arm and matched her steps to his 
as they walked toward the hall where, Brad realized, 
they'd spend the next few hours together. That it was 
under circumstances where everyone would believe they 
were an important man and his lovely date, rather than 
a father and his lovely daughter, would make it 
interesting, if nothing else. 

Brad knew full well that she would have the opportunity 
to make a fool of him in front of important people. 
There was every likelihood that there would be women 
and men at this affair who knew her, and what she did 
for a living. She could simply announce who she was, 
and there would be scandal. The businessman in him 
recognized the dangers in that, though they wouldn't be 
as bad as if he were in D.C. 

But the father in him recognized that, if she did that, 
it would be only what he deserved, for having been a 
failure as a father. On the walk into the building, her 
arm nestled into his, her fingers lying possessively on 
top of his wrist, her breast pressing against his 
bicep, Brad Tarkenton decided that if she did that, 
he'd just take it.

"I'm sorry" he said as they approached the doors being 
swung open by uniformed attendants.

"We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later. 
Right now you need to act like my date." came the voice 
from the gorgeous woman beside him.

"I just wanted you to know." he said.

She grunted. "I've known how sorry a man you were for 
years." But her arm tightened and she smiled widely as 
the doors were opened for them. They swept into the 
room, already packed with people of all types, and were 
immediately the center of attention.

It was always like this when Brad went to a party. He 
was usually the richest, most important and most 
powerful man people had ever met, and they flocked to 
him like moths to a flame, trying to touch him, hoping 
that some of his fabulous luck and wealth would rub off 
on them. Many times the women who attended these things 
with him were put off by the crush, but Samantha worked 
the crowd like a pro. Brad noticed that some men she 
addressed by their first name. 

He soon figured out that these men were not with their 
wives. The men she knew who WERE with their wives, she 
addressed by the honorific and their last name. In 
every situation like that she followed that up by 
asking about some project they were involved in, as if 
she were a consultant they'd worked with, or had drawn 
the designs they were using to build something. 

Never was it obvious that she'd slept with a man, not 
even to Brad. But she knew a lot of people. And a lot 
of people knew her. Brad saw only one frown from a 
woman who interacted with the woman everyone called 
Jasmine. There were a lot of wistful looks thrown her 
way, and Brad realized that most of the people who were 
in this room couldn't afford to hire Jasmine.

Then Brad began to listen to what she talked with the 
women in the crowd about. He soon realized that she was 
involved in a number of women's groups, including a 
breast cancer awareness organization, some kind of 
children's burn victim group, a club that was trying to 
revitalize green spaces in the city and, of all things, 
a quilting guild. 

Later in the night, when he was at the bar getting a 
drink for himself and his daughter, he'd find out what 
everyone in the room thought she was. A man who had 
obviously already had way too much to drink leaned over 
and asked, with alcohol fumed breath, "What's it like 
to be with one of those rich girls, who have rich 
daddies, and never have to work? Are they too spoiled 
to suck your dick? Do they even fuck?"

Brad, not knowing who the man was, and not wanting to 
be thrown out for putting his fist in the guy's face, 
just said "I don't know. It's my first time. I'll let 
you know later."

So everyone thought she was wealthy, by virtue of 
having a rich father. Just a flit-about rich socialite, 
who could sleep as late as she wanted, and go out with 
lots of different men because she was too spoiled to 
pick any one of them.

But that was later. For now Brad just watched a 
professional people person at work. She was good, and 
though conflicted, Brad felt proud of his daughter.

The initial chaos of being important faded after about 
half an hour and, when the crowd thinned out, Sam 
turned to her father. Here, in the light, she took his 
breath away. The dress didn't so much cover her 
nakedness as advertise it while teasing the observer by 
showing what her body would look like if she was 
wearing paint. Her nipples were spiked and showing 
clearly.

Sam settled her gaze on the man she was with. "Aren't 
you going to ask me to dance?" she asked. "People will 
talk if you don't have anything to do with me."

Brad ignored her jibe. "Nothing would please me more 
than dancing with you." he said.

She arched one pencil thin eyebrow. "Nothing?" she 
teased. She was good at her job, and the fact that her 
date was her own father didn't slow her down even a 
little.

They moved to the dance floor, where a small orchestra 
was playing music to dance slowly to. There would be no 
rock and roll at this party. As she melted into his 
arms he found his mouth by her ear.

"I've missed you." he whispered.

She stiffened, but then relaxed. "Yeah... right." She 
was an exquisite dancer and they moved like they'd 
studied and trained together.

"I spent over half a million looking for you." he said.

"You always did try to throw money at a problem." came 
her retort.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned to find a 
man half his age asking to cut in.

Jasmine smiled sweetly at the young man. "Thank you so 
much, but I couldn't bear to tear myself away from my 
date." she said. "I'll be sad about it for days, 
though, thinking of what I'll miss." The would-be 
suitor, for having been rebuffed, left feeling 
surprisingly upbeat. Jasmine had a way of saying "no" 
that made men think she'd said "later."

"If you hate me so much, why didn't you dance with 
him?" asked Brad.

"I'm not sure I hate you." she said back. "A lot has 
happened since I left. I won't say I've kept an eye on 
you, but some of what you've done has come to my 
attention. I know, for example, that you didn't marry 
again after Trudy the turd."

Brad swung her around hard enough to make her hair fly 
out, hitting a nearby couple. They laughed.

When she came back to him he felt her hand lower on his 
back. "I should have listened to you about her." he 
admitted. "I should have done a lot of things 
differently."

"Do you believe in Karma?" asked his daughter, holding 
him close. He could feel her breasts, rubbing against 
his chest. His hand was in the middle of her naked 
back.

"I don't know." he answered truthfully. "I know that 
what goes around comes around. Is that the same thing?"

"Pretty close. As I look back on things I think there 
was some kind of Karma at work. I didn't like my life 
then, or you. But Phillip and I were forged by that 
pressure, and fired in that kiln. You were too Daddy."

He felt an unaccountable thrill shoot through him at 
her use of "Daddy". He'd assumed he'd never hear that 
word again, applied to him, anyway.

"That doesn't mean I feel good about it." he said. He 
felt her tense up again and guessed that she had 
interpreted him as saying he didn't feel good about how 
she and Phillip had turned out. He hastened to correct 
that, if, in fact it had happened. "What I mean is that 
you have grown into a beautiful and successful woman, 
perfectly capable of taking care of herself. You're 
popular and sought after by the good elements in our 
society."

"I'm a hooker, Daddy." she said, but there was no heat 
in it. "A lot of people here know that. Not all, but a 
lot."

"That's how you make a living. But that's not all you 
are. From what I've heard just tonight you're important 
to a lot of people and it has nothing whatsoever to do 
with sex."

"So if I announced to the people here that I'm your 
daughter... you wouldn't be embarrassed?"

Brad felt his positive mood sour. So that was why she 
was here after all. Well, he'd already decided he'd 
take it, if that's what she wanted to get her revenge.

"If you felt it was important for people to know that 
then I'd gladly claim you as my daughter." he answered.

Sam snuggled in against him and put both her arms 
around him. That led him to put both his hands on her 
naked back as they swayed to the music. "Why haven't 
you contacted Phillip?" she asked his chest.

"When I couldn't find you I knew you were either dead, 
or didn't want to be found. And when I cut Phillip off, 
I figured he'd seen all of me he wanted to. I also 
assumed he'd come back, looking for more money. I was 
wrong about that too. I've been wrong about so much."

She looked up at him. "I changed my name legally and 
then asked the court to seal the records. I told them 
there was a stalker who would try to find me. I was 
notified twice that someone was asking about it. I 
convinced the man who kept the records not to release 
them. That's why you couldn't find me. I knew you were 
looking, but I thought it was just to drag me back 
home.

"I would never have done that Sam." he said.

"Jasmine" she corrected. "Even Phillip calls me Jasmine 
now."

"You see him?" Brad was surprised.

"About every three months. I fly down and we spend a 
few days... catching up. He's very successful now."

"He's successful at home repairs?" Brad was again 
surprised.

"Daddy, he fixed everything in the house when we were 
young. The contractors would come in and screw things 
up, or use cheap materials. They were all trying to rip 
you off. So Phillip learned how to do things. He's a 
genius, you know. Maybe you don't know. Why were you 
like that Daddy?"

Brad sighed. "I never got over your mother. I'm still 
not over her. I tried to find somebody who could be 
like her, but there aren't any women like her. She was 
one of a kind." He squeezed Jasmine and felt her rub 
her breasts against him. 'She must do that from habit' 
he thought. He went on. "When you were seventeen you 
looked so much like her that I thought I was seeing her 
ghost. But you hated me, and that hurt more than 
anything else. I was looking at her, but feeling your 
hate."

"I didn't hate you Daddy." she said. "Well, OK, 
sometimes I hated you. But mostly I was disgusted with 
you. I had all these dreams... Phillip and I both 
did... but you wouldn't let us pursue them."

"Was that what State college was all about?" asked 
Brad.

"Yes. I wanted to be an interior designer and Phillip 
wanted to be an engineer."

"Phillip could have done that, if he hadn't gotten in 
so much trouble."

"Phillip was trying to get your attention so he could 
tell you what he wanted. But the only time you ever 
talked to him was when you were pissed off."

"So why didn't you go to college where you wanted to? 
You know... after you changed your name." asked Brad.

"When I left, I left your money behind. I was broke and 
homeless. I was running away from an angry hot dog 
vendor when I ran in front of George's limo one night. 
He hit me. I wasn't hurt. Scraped up a little, and I 
didn't need to go to the hospital, but George was 
scared half to death. He took me home and Claudette fed 
me and cleaned me up. I stayed with them for a few 
days. I wouldn't tell them who I was, but it was pretty 
clear that I didn't have any skills. It was George who 
introduced me to Madeline. She trained me to be... what 
I am."

"So she takes a cut of what you make?" asked Brad.

"No, she's an incurable romantic who thinks that every 
man should have a mistress. She says it brings out the 
real man in him and makes his home life better. Sort of 
like therapy. We're all independent operators. Madeline 
has friends powerful enough to protect us, and we play 
things pretty close to the chest."

"And a beautiful chest it is." Brad said, without 
thinking.

Jasmine looked up at him again, and her dazzling smile 
lit up. "Why Daddy, you're FLIRTING with me." She was, 
for some reason, pleased by that.

Suddenly she started looking around. She didn't make it 
obvious, but she was clearly looking all around them as 
they continued to dance.

"You've made me forget to watch what I'm doing. No man 
has done that for so long I can't even remember the 
last time. People are watching us. Kiss me."

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"People expect to see us cuddle and kiss. You're mister 
big, and I'm your expensive plaything. Kiss me."

"But..." 

He was cut off as she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. 
It was no pretend kiss either, with stiff lips. She all 
but ate his lips off as hers sucked and closed over 
his, her tongue darting into his surprised mouth. He 
actually heard two couples nearby sigh as they watched.

She pulled back. "Is that the best you can do?" she 
asked. "No wonder you can't find a wife." Her eyes 
clouded instantly. "I'm sorry Daddy. I shouldn't have 
said that."

They danced for two hours, never taking a break, 
standing close together between songs. Every ten or 
fifteen minutes she demanded that he kiss her. She 
instructed him each time exactly what kind of kiss they 
should be having, based on her experience. He laughed, 
but began kissing her back like he meant it. He was 
delirious that she even let him talk to her. That she 
was willing to kiss him, he chalked up to her desire to 
maintain her professional image. 

She told him everything she was involved in and he was 
amazed. He told her how his philosophy had changed. At 
one point she said "That's why I decided to escort you 
tonight. When Julie asked me to do it I talked to 
George about you. He loves you. And I trust George."

"I'm going to have to tip George very generously." he 
said.

She squirmed against him.

"You know, you've been rubbing those delightful breasts 
against me for over an hour. I'm only a man, Sam." he 
said.

"Jasmine" she reminded him. "I like rubbing them 
against you. My therapist says that I wanted your 
attention when I was younger because I was trying to 
take Mommy's place when she died. And when you didn't 
accept me as a sexual partner it caused me to try to 
find that acceptance in other men."

"Wow." said Brad. "And what do you think?"

"Up to now I thought he was a quack." she said. She 
didn't go on, leaving Brad trying to figure out exactly 
what that meant.

It was then that the orchestra took a break and Brad 
went to the bar to get them each a glass of wine. It 
was then that the man brought out a rage in him he 
hadn't felt for years. He was actually almost pleased 
by it though. Any man would be incensed when his 
daughter was talked about like that. And now he was a 
man who had a daughter again.

On his way back he could see that, in his absence, 
Jasmine had been surrounded by men, all trying to talk 
to her. Julie walked up beside him and took his arm 
carefully, to keep from making him spill the wine.

"Jasmine likes you." she said confidentially. "I can 
tell."

"I think that remains to be seen." he said.

"You don't know Jasmine like I do." said Julie. "She 
almost NEVER kisses a man in public. She has to like 
him a LOT to do that."

Brad felt a tightening in his chest again. She'd said 
people would expect it, but did it because she wanted 
to. He felt light headed.

"Well, I have to admit, I'm having the best time I've 
had in a lot of years." said Brad.

Julie squeezed his arm against her pregnant belly. "I 
knew you would." She broke away. "Damn, I have to go 
pee again. Why do you men do this to us?" she asked in 
mock agony, stroking her belly with both hands.

"Because you love what it takes to get you that way." 
said Brad.

Julie laughed and then winced as that put pressure on 
her bladder. As she left she whispered "Maybe Jasmine 
will love it too."

Brad reared back. Of course Julie would think that he 
and Jasmine might have sex. Jasmine was acting like she 
did when she was with other men, so it would be natural 
to assume they would end up in bed. Brad almost spilled 
the wine anyway when he realized that some part of him 
kind of liked the idea.

That part caused blood to rush to his cock the next 
time Jasmine announced it was time for another "make 
believe" kiss.

By midnight the party had thinned out, as husbands and 
their wives left, having to go to work the next day. 
Only the young and restless stayed to try to banish 
whatever ills they thought they suffered, with wine and 
beautiful members of the opposite sex.

They were dancing when Jasmine pushed her father back 
from her suddenly. "Oh!" she said, as if she'd just 
thought of something. "Julie is probably dead on her 
feet and I bet her back is killing her." She pulled 
Brad toward where Julie and Josh were sitting at a 
table. They watched father and daughter... not knowing 
they were father and daughter... approach. 

"You two make a handsome couple." said Julie. 

"Julie has been trying to marry me off for over a year 
now." said Jasmine, laughing.

"You could do worse." said Julie.

"Why, I believe you're right Julie dear." said Jasmine, 
playing her part to the hilt. "But we've been 
positively rude to you both." she went on. "I bet 
you've been wanting to go home for hours, and all we 
did was dance the night away."

Josh actually nodded, but Julie wasn't biting. "I've 
been having a lot of fun watching you two." she said. 
"I think Brad's going to be a very happy man after 
tonight."

"If I were any happier they'd have to take me away to 
the happy farm." said Brad.

Jasmine actually blushed.

They gathered up belongings, though, and left the 
party, again to find George magically parked at the 
front. It was a quiet ride, with soft, meaningless 
conversation, mostly between the women, while the men 
lay back against the cushions, totally relaxed. When 
they arrived at the Clinton home, Julie fiddled with 
her purse and then, on her way past Brad, pressed 
something into his hand. 

"Just in case." she said.

He didn't have to look at the item to know it was a 
foil-wrapped packet with a donut shaped bulge in it. He 
palmed it into his suit pocket and accepted a much more 
platonic kiss from Julie as she said good night.

"See you in the morning?" asked Josh as he got out.

"He may be a little late." said Jasmine, smiling that 
blazing smile.


CHAPTER THREE


The limo drove off smoothly, heading for downtown.

"Sam, I can't tell you how much this night has meant to 
me." said Brad. "I thought I'd lost you forever, and 
that you hated me too much to even put eyes on me. Can 
you ever forgive me for how stupid I was back then?"

"I'm already working on it." she said, leaning against 
him. "Take me home."

Brad picked up the phone and called up to George. 
"Jasmine is ready to go home George." he said into the 
phone.

His daughter took the phone away from him. "His home, 
George." she said curtly and hung the phone up. She 
turned to her father. "You bought me for the night." 
she said.

Brad thought she was reminding him that she was a 
prostitute... that in one way he was just another John 
to her. Saddened, he reached into his pocket and 
brought out a thousand dollars. He held it out. She 
took it and tucked it into her purse.

"I didn't buy you at all." he protested.

"Yes you did." she said back, with no heat in her 
voice. "And the night's not over yet."

"I would love to talk to you some more." he said.

"Talking is nice." she responded.

George dropped them off at Brad's hotel and, as he let 
them out, Brad saw that he had a small suitcase in his 
hand that he'd gotten from the trunk. As they 
approached the doorman, George handed the bag to the 
man. It soon became obvious that Jasmine was not only 
known there, but welcome as well. Brad wasn't surprised 
to find that she knew the names of bellboys. One, by 
some signal unknown to Brad, hurried over to them as 
they approached the elevators.

Jasmine bestowed a glorious smile on him. "Bently, 
would you be so sweet as to see that a bottle of Dom 
Perignon is sent up to Mr. Tarkenton's room? Oh, and a 
box of those lovely Maison du Chocolat... chocolates." 
She giggled. 

"Aren't they the ones flavored with brandy?" Bently 
nodded smiling. "Thank you Bently. Oh, and one more 
thing. We'll need a can of that whipped topping... you 
know, the kind it's fun to squirt in your mouth? And 
maybe a bowl of Andre's cherry tart filling. Would you 
do that for me?" Brad was betting that "Andre" was the 
hotel's five star chef, and that Jasmine was on a first 
name basis with him.

As for Bently, he would have jumped off a building for 
her, and it was obvious. He left at a flat out run.

In the hallway upstairs one of the maids even said 
"Good evening Jasmine, it's good to see you again." The 
woman then sized up Brad, and nodded, though she didn't 
say anything. Brad suddenly knew what it felt like to 
BE the one under evaluation, and to wonder whether or 
not he'd made the cut. And from hotel staff! 

It was an odd feeling, but at the same time he realized 
that his daughter was considered to be a good judge of 
character, at least according to the 'little people' of 
the world. He ruefully admitted to himself that 
sometimes those 'little people' were the better at 
judging character than some of the movers and shakers.

Another bellboy appeared like magic with the bag George 
had handed to the doorman. The young man opened the 
door for them and entered, setting the bag on a low 
table. He fiddled with the thermostat and then bowed to 
the couple.

"You're a sweet sweet boy, Jeremy." said Jasmine. She 
kissed him on the forehead and the man, who had to be 
at least in his forties, left, a grinning idiot.

The door was no more than closed before Jasmine turned 
to her father and attacked his tie, untying it and 
pulling it from around his neck. Then she unbuttoned 
the stiff shirt, never worn before this night, opening 
it two buttons.

"I want you to be comfortable." she said. "We have a 
lot to discuss. Now, if you'll excuse me. I want to be 
comfortable too.

She picked up the bag off the table and disappeared 
into the bedroom. Brad hardly had time to wonder what 
she was doing in there when there was a discreet knock 
at the door. He opened it to find a cart with all the 
things she had asked for on it, pushed by Bently. He 
brought the cart in and opened the box of chocolates, 
putting them on display. While Bently poured two 
chilled glasses full of champagne and iced the bottle, 
Brad pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Bently made it 
disappear smoothly.

"I'll have another bottle chilled and ready to bring 
up... if you need it." said Bently. He looked around, 
obviously looking for Jasmine. He was obviously 
disappointed that she wasn't in the room.

Bently left and Brad turned to see the woman he still 
thought of as Samantha glide out of the bedroom. She 
had changed. There had been clothes in the bag.

Well, perhaps 'clothes' wasn't the right word. Jasmine 
was now dressed in dark nylons, held up by a lavender 
garter belt. Over those were a pair of dark purple 
panties, above which there was a matching quarter cup 
bra that cradled her breasts, but did nothing to hide 
them. Over the whole outfit she wore a pale lavender 
jacket that had a representation of a dragon woven into 
it. The dragon, embroidered in shades of magenta that 
matched the bra and panties, wrapped around her body, 
with its head coming to rest on her left hip, as if it 
were guarding the treasure encased in the panties. She 
also had on high heels.

Brad instantly understood why Bently had been 
disappointed that she wasn't in the room. He felt an 
ache in his groin that he tried unsuccessfully to 
banish. This was his daughter he was looking at. Then 
it struck him that this WAS his daughter, and that she 
knew who he was... and had donned this outfit anyway.

"I must have grabbed the wrong bag." she said, her hips 
rising and falling as she walked toward him. "I have 
different bags prepacked for different kinds of dates. 
I guess this will have to do. It doesn't show too much 
more than the dress did, though, and you ARE my Daddy. 
It's not like you've never seen me naked."

Brad swallowed. Then again. He cleared his throat and 
had to cough. His mouth was dry as a bone. He lifted 
the champagne and took a sip. Then he could talk. 
"Father's don't usually get to see their daughters as 
naked as that." He felt like a little boy, seeing his 
first naked woman.

"Well, it IS more comfortable than that old dress." she 
said, picking up a chocolate and biting it in half. 
"Mmmmm these are just divine." she said, savoring the 
fine chocolate. "I meant to grab the other overnight 
bag... the one with jeans and a sweatshirt in it. I 
hope you don't mind that I got the wrong one." She 
turned around, her hair flowing away from her body. The 
panties were actually a G-string and her pale buttocks 
were bare. When she faced him again her big brown eyes 
stared into Brad's and he almost fell into them.

"It's... ah... fine," he blurted. He grabbed a 
chocolate and popped it in his mouth. Flavor burst in 
his mouth and he was startled. "Aren't you chilly?" he 
asked. It looked like she had more skin showing than a 
fat man at a nude beach.

"Oh no. Jeremy turned up the thermostat. He knows just 
what temperature I like." She looked at her father and 
stepped toward him. Her fingers went to his suit jacket 
and pushed it back, off his shoulders. She caught it 
deftly and flung it towards a chair. "You might get a 
little warm, though... in all those hot clothes."

Next her fingers went to his shirt buttons and he felt 
cool air caress his chest. He managed to get one hand 
up to stop her.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

"My name is Jasmine," she said. "I'm doing my job."

"I didn't hire you to do this." he said.

"What?" she pressed up against him and her arms went 
around his neck. "Julie told me to pack a bag."

"Yes... but I didn't know it was going to be you," he 
said.

"Well, I knew it was going to be you." she said simply. 
She leaned in and kissed him full on the lips, just 
like she had done while they were dancing. Her tongue 
flitted deftly into his mouth, darting, teasing as she 
pressed her breasts into his chest.

Brad suddenly realized he was rock hard... harder than 
he could remember being in years. He felt... brittle. 
He felt her press her mons against his hardness.

"My therapist says I do what I do because I wanted your 
attention and couldn't get it." she said, her lips 
brushing his as the kiss ended. "But now I have your 
attention. Don't you want to know if my therapist was 
right?" She kissed him again and it was a passionate 
kiss for both of them.

When it ended she breathed into his mouth. "I do."

Brad didn't know what to do. He had found his long lost 
daughter, whom he thought had hated him. She HAD hated 
him, but now she was here, offering herself. And he 
wanted her. His mind denied that, but his body betrayed 
that mind, screaming to touch her, caress her, possess 
her.

His yammering mind bubbled to the surface long enough 
for him to say, "Jasmine... Sam... you don't have to do 
this. I love you. I've always loved you. I just didn't 
know how to show it. But you don't have to do this to 
get me to love you. I already do."

Her dark eyed stare, so close to his face, transmitted 
emotion almost like electricity. She licked his lips. 
"That just makes me want you even more," she whispered.

She pushed him away and assaulted his shirt, shoving it 
down off his shoulders, like she had the suit coat. It 
hung up on his wrists, because the cuff links were 
still in place. That bound him, in a way, and he could 
do nothing as her nimble fingers went to the fastening 
of his suit pants. He felt cool air wash over his knees 
as his pants dropped to his ankles. 

He felt her fingers at the waistband of his briefs and 
sucked in his stomach automatically. But her fingers 
just slid down the sides of his underwear, off of them 
and onto his outer thighs as her hands dropped to 
remove his shoes and then drag the pants off his feet. 
Then he felt her fingers first at one sleeve and then 
the other, and he was free. While he shook off the 
shirt, her hands stripped his underwear down in one 
swift jerk.

Brad looked down to find his daughter staring at his 
erect cock. Her hands came up to cup his balls, and one 
hand stayed there, while the other drifted to encircle 
his shaft. She pulled his foreskin back off his glans 
and a bead of silver collected at the slit at the tip 
of his cock. As if it was in slow motion, Jasmine 
leaned forward and her tongue darted out to capture 
that bead, before sliding back into her mouth. 

Then she kissed the tip, like she had kissed his lips 
only moments before. She kissed his prick like she 
loved it... adored it... lived for it, cupping his 
balls like they were the last two eggs in the universe, 
and she wanted to protect them.

It was almost anticlimactical when her lipsticked lips 
slid over the head of his cock and she sucked gently, 
coaxing another dribble of precum out of his aching 
prick.

Events were beyond Brad's control now. He felt 
helpless, and that terrified him in a way. He was a 
powerful man, who was always in control. But right then 
he could have been slaughtered by a child with a pocket 
knife, so incapable of movement was he. His whole 
universe centered on the warm mouth that was enveloping 
his penis.

"Ohhhhh Saaaaammmm," he groaned.

She pulled off his cock and stood up. "I don't want you 
cumming too soon. You're older now, and it might take a 
while to get you ready again. And I need you now Daddy. 
I need you to make me feel good way up inside me. She 
pulled him toward the bedroom, shedding the jacket, 
with it's protective dragon. Her hand reached behind 
her and her bra went slack, She pushed him to the bed 
and, quicker than he would have believed possible 
removed the panties. 

She somehow pulled him down with her, on top of her, 
her thighs on either side of him. He felt the 
suspenders from the garter belt scraping his hips as 
she pulled him upward. His face went past perfect 
breasts and he had to taste, dropping his head to 
suckle one long hard nipple. It had some kind of 
flavoring agent on it... orange... no lime maybe... 
something citrus-like. 

He was rewarded with her coo of enjoyment and her hands 
on the back of his head.

Then she was pulling at him again, getting him into 
position to claim her as a woman. He felt her hand on 
his hardness, and felt the tip dip into wet heat. There 
was no transition between that feel around the tip of 
his cock and his lunge that skewered her in one 
frictionless thrust that drove the tip of his prick 
into her cervix. Both of them made sounds that were at 
the same time agonized and joyful beyond belief.

Brad felt like he was home. He could die this instant, 
and he wouldn't mind. He was buried in a woman who 
wanted him for who he really was, rather than what he 
could do for her. It was the first time since Elizabeth 
that he had truly loved the woman who was sheathing his 
manhood in her welcoming pussy.

There was a period of time that night that was lost to 
Brad in many ways. He would always remember the feel of 
her skin against his, her voice in his ear, her 
fingernails digging into his buttocks and back. He 
would always remember the peculiar little series of 
high pitched grunts she made as she approached her 
orgasm, but which vanished from her vocabulary when she 
tumbled down the slope of her climax. 

She sounded like she was terrified one moment, and then 
moaned long loud sobs of joy as she not only grabbed 
her orgasms, but wrung every drop of delirious feeling 
out of each one. He would always remember comparing her 
to the women he'd been with before, who pretended to 
have orgasms, or even managed to get to the pinnacle 
with him, but only shuddered quietly as they 
concentrated on their pleasure, while dismissing him 
completely.

And in that comparison he found a woman who was on fire 
with emotion, whose cries and sobs and moans were 
either real, or the stuff of Oscars. He would always 
believe she was not acting as he reached for him again 
and again, always asking for more.

But, he could not have told anyone the story of what 
happened that night. He could not have described how 
they made love, or what she said, or even what they 
talked about between the times they thrashed together, 
almost tearing the sheets in their passion. And, he 
could not have told anyone exactly how many times he 
pushed his rampant erection deep into his daughter and 
strained his muscles to push more of his cream into her 
womb.

He remembered being amazed at one point, a point long 
past what he thought he was capable of at his age. But 
that's it.

She blew his mind, and he lost some of his thoughts in 
that emotional windstorm.

Brad was, indeed late getting to work, as Jasmine had 
predicted the night before. When he walked into Josh's 
office he had a level of energy about him that Josh 
recognized from his own life.

"I trust things went... well," he said.

Brad just nodded. "Had a great time. Tell Julie thanks 
for me."

"You can tell her yourself." said Josh. "She informed 
me that we're eating lunch together... the three of us. 
It's one of her traits I haven't been able to break her 
of... putting things on my schedule, I mean." he said.

Brad frowned, and Josh thought that wasn't a good 
thing, but Brad's words didn't match his face. "Don't 
try to break her of that Josh. She's doing you a bigger 
favor than you can imagine. She's more important than 
your schedule. Well, most of the time anyway." he 
added, the businessman in him rising to the top of the 
choppy surface that was a sea of competing emotions.

"OK, I'll try to remember that." said Josh, feeling 
distinctly like something had happened that he should 
be able to see and tuck away in his mind, but which 
eluded him. He did, in fact, idolize Brad Tarkenton, 
and wanted to be that rich and that powerful when he 
was Brad's age. But the man, in person, wasn't quite 
what Josh had anticipated he would be. 

Something in Josh was elated that this big, important 
man was thoroughly human, with human emotions. Josh 
didn't want to give up that part of his own life, and 
if Brad Tarkenton had time to be emotional, that meant 
Josh didn't have to be ashamed of his personal and 
social urges.

But, in competition with his personal side, the 
businessman side of Josh Clinton scoffed at all that 
sappy emotion. He was a shark, and sharks didn't let 
emotion get in the way of successful feeding.

It was the shark that asked the next question. "So, if 
all you're here for is to give me a pat on the back... 
you've already done that. Why are you still here Brad? 
You could be winging your way back to the coast right 
now."

Brad recognized the shark, but wasn't worried. "While 
I'm here I may as well take a look at the operation. I 
have a lot of faith in you Josh, but sometimes things 
slip through the cracks, even when there's a top notch 
rooster guarding the henhouse."

They then went over Josh's business plan with a fine 
tooth comb. Several cracks WERE discovered, with things 
lying in them and Josh was abashed. His enthusiasm 
about having Brad as a boss mounted even more.

Both were surprised when Josh's personal secretary 
opened the door and announced it was time for their 
"lunch meeting". Brad glanced at the woman, who he'd 
seen only in passing. She was a statuesque blond, 
beautiful in the same way that Julie and... Jasmine - 
he had to remember to call her Jasmine - were. She 
oozed sexuality and passion. When she closed the door 
he looked at Josh with a raised eyebrow.

Josh seemed to know what he was thinking. "Don't worry. 
Tawny was chosen specifically for the job by Julie. I 
had to pay her an awful lot to get her away from... 
well to hire her. But she's loyal to a fault to Julie, 
and believe me, there's nothing going on there. Not 
with me anyway. I get the feeling she's still working 
on the side once in a while, but it isn't interfering 
with her performance. In fact, she's brought us quite a 
bit of business."

Brad shook his head, but smiled. "Julie is turning out 
to be a much bigger asset to the organization than I 
would have believed a wife could be."

"Well, you know what they say about every great man..." 
joked Josh.

Since George had been retained for the exclusive use of 
Amalgamated Enterprises for the four day period Josh 
had scheduled to be in Cleveland, Tawnee had arranged 
for him to pick up the men and take them to the 
restaurant where Julie was waiting for them, sipping a 
very small glass of golden wine. There was a circle of 
empty tables around her, but all the businessmen who 
were taking lunch seemed to be facing her direction at 
the tables beyond that. Brad asked her what she was 
drinking when he sat down and she blushed.

"It's Liebfraumilch," she said. "It's nothing special, 
but I just love the sweetness of it." She glanced at 
her husband. "I'm allowed a few sips a day until the 
baby is born." she said defensively.

"Drink what you like," he said. "That's always been my 
motto. I developed a taste for it when I was in Germany 
myself." He smiled. "That and Pilsner too."

Julie was flushed with enthusiasm. "Imagine that Josh, 
a millionaire who likes beer!"

Brad grinned, "I'm just a man, Julie. I put my pants on 
one leg at a time just like the rest of them."

Julie smiled wider, "Speaking of which, Josh, go wash 
your hands or something. I need to talk to Brad about 
last night."

"What? I can't hear all the gory details too?" Josh 
asked with forced hurt in his voice.

"You mean you didn't already? I thought all you men 
compared notes as often as you saw each other." said 
Julie, looking at Brad. She looked back at her husband. 
"Isn't there a rule or something that you have to strut 
and stick your chest out and crow about what a stud you 
are when you meet each other?"

Both men laughed at her reference to a rooster, but 
neither admitted that Brad had just called Josh one 
only fifteen minutes ago.

"Not a peep." said Josh. "The man either has discretion 
or nothing happened and he's too embarrassed to admit 
it." He grinned to show he was posturing. He was moving 
away from them though, respecting his wife's desire for 
privacy.

Julie looked at Brad with a calculating gaze. "Well? Is 
he right? Jasmine didn't call me. She usually calls me 
to tell me how things went."

Brad was suddenly uncomfortable. Talking about what had 
happened with his daughter wasn't something he 
relished, even if Julie didn't know she was his 
daughter. "Things went well," he tried, and then took a 
sip of wine from her glass. His wasn't there yet.

"You're not getting off that easy," she said. "How long 
did she stay?"

"Well, when I left this morning she was throwing 
pillows at me for making too much noise," said Brad, 
thinking that would sound normal enough.

Julie's face went slack. "She stayed all night?" It was 
obvious she was surprised for some reason.

"Uh, yes," said Brad.

Julie thought for a minute. "I can only think of two 
times that's happened." she said. The calculating look 
was back. "It's a good thing I gave you the condom. She 
doesn't carry them. She says it's a sign of a man's 
breeding when he has his own."

"Oh" said Brad, his eyes wide. "Well... um... that 
subject sort of never came up."

Now Julie looked positively shocked. "Are you telling 
me she let you in her without a condom? Brad she NEVER 
lets a man in her without a condom! She's almost 
paranoid about it. She even carries spermicide with 
her. It has to be used within a couple of hours and she 
does that religiously, even IF the condom is intact 
afterwards." Julie suddenly blushed again. "I shouldn't 
have said that. It's a professional secret."

Brad just stared. "Surely she's on the pill." he said. 

Something in his voice made the hackles on Julie's neck 
rise.

"She didn't go to the bathroom after you... finished?"

"Julie, it took us all night to... finish. I've never 
been with a woman like her. Not since my wife died."

"Oh my." said Julie softly. "Oh my." she repeated 
herself. "She's allergic to the pill... can't take 
them." She sat up straighter in her chair. "Brad, 
please tell me she took the money."

"What kind of thing is that to say?" asked Brad, 
injured somehow. He'd forgotten about the money, and 
that she HAD taken it.

"Did she Brad?" Julie's voice was low... serious.

"Yes she did," he said, miffed that she had to know.

Julie sat back, more relaxed. "Thank goodness for 
that." she said.

"What's going on Julie?" asked Brad.

Julie looked at him with something that looked almost 
like sympathy. "Jasmine is very... particular about 
men. There are some men she won't sleep with, no matter 
how much they pay. Men who want to do it bareback, for 
instance. She just won't. She's walked out, leaving as 
much as five grand on the table before. But sometimes 
one of the girls gets a little... shall we say starry-
eyed? She gets it in her mind that things could go... 
um... farther than... well, farther than a business 
relationship. When that happens they do things that 
aren't good for them. They get hurt. I don't want 
Jasmine hurt Brad. She's my best friend."

Brad's response was instantaneous. "I'll never hurt 
her... NEVER!"

Julie used that calculating look to devastating 
advantage. "Even if she gets with your child Brad? 
Suppose a few months from now she turns up too pregnant 
to do anything about it? Suppose she shows up on your 
corporate doorstep with her belly looking like mine? 
How would you feel about things then Brad? She was 
STUPID! And YOU were stupid too!" Now there was heat in 
her voice and anger in her eyes.

Brad was shocked again. He had a mental image of Sam, 
looking like Julie looked now. He felt his dick getting 
stiff and was shocked that the idea of Sam pregnant 
with his child was so erotic.

But Brad couldn't explain why the scenario Julie had 
just hypothesized would only make him happier. For lack 
of anything else to say he said "It happened to you 
Julie."

Julie looked down at her own pregnant body. "Are you 
saying you'd MARRY her Brad?!" she said incredulously. 
"What the hell HAPPENED last night?" she said, sitting 
up again.

Just then Brad saw Josh heading their way. He was 
smiling. All was right with the world for Josh Clinton. 
He had a beautiful pregnant wife, a great job, a boss 
he loved. Everything was coming up roses.

Until he saw the look on his wife's face. There was 
consternation, maybe even a little fear on her face.

"OK, whatever it is he did last night, it can't be that 
bad," he said smiling as he walked up to the table and 
sat down between them.

"You have NO idea Josh Clinton." she said heatedly. "Go 
wash your hands again!"

Josh just sat there. "Look, you didn't hurt her, 
right?" he said looking at Brad. "I mean she's not 
bleeding or in the hospital or anything, right?"

"Of course not," said Brad, disgusted at the idea.
"OK, then. You paid her to have a good time. If you had 
a good time and she's OK then what's the big deal?"

Julie tossed him a scathing look. "You, mister, are 
going without sex for a long LONG time."

"Come on Bunny, don't be that way." said Josh, 
realizing that she was seriously worried about 
something.

"Men!" said Julie. She dug into her purse and pulled 
out a phone. She punched in numbers and then waited, 
listening to the rings.

"Hey, it's me," she said into the phone. "How are you? 
You didn't call me." Julie's eyes went to Brad and 
locked with his.

"So? How'd it go?" asked Julie to the phone. Her voice 
was almost too casual.

She listened for what seemed like twenty minutes to 
Brad. The waiter came and Josh ordered for everybody 
while he was ignored by his lunch partners.

"Jasmine, you aren't doing something stupid are you?" 
asked Julie.

There was a pause as she listened.

"Where are you now?" she said a minute later.

Another pause and she said "He's sitting across the 
table from me right now. We're having lunch with Josh."

Julie put her hand over the phone. "She wants to see 
you again." She said it like it was an indictment.

"I want to see her again." said Brad. It was true. He 
wanted to see her every day, and not just for sex 
either.

Julie went back to the phone. "As soon as we're done 
here I want to see you. OK, You're sure you're OK?... 
OK OK, don't get huffy. I'll see you later."

She punched the phone off and put it back in her purse. 
Then she leveled her gaze on Brad again. "I like you 
Brad, so I'm going to give you a little friendly 
advice. Don't fuck with my friend's emotions."

Josh gasped and started to apologize for her, but she 
cut him off.

"I've never heard her sound like this Brad. If you hurt 
her I'll cut your balls off. I don't care how much 
money you have, or that you're my husband's boss. I'll 
do what I can when I see her, but she likes you... a 
lot."

"Why do you have to do anything?" asked Brad. His mind 
was in the process of trying to make a decision... a 
decision that no one would understand, much less 
approve of. But he had just found his daughter, whom he 
had believed he'd never see again, and what he felt for 
her was white hot on a multitude of levels. There was 
the chance he could even reclaim his relationship with 
his son. Suddenly 'business' didn't seem as important 
as it had in the past.

Julie was floored and it showed. "You want me to 
believe that a man like you... a man in your 
position... would even CONSIDER having a... long term 
relationship with... with a woman like Jasmine." Her 
eyes were wide and then they narrowed. "You never 
answered my last question, did you?" she said, her 
voice level. 

She darted a nervous glance at her husband, who was 
trying to figure out what was going on. Her threat 
notwithstanding, she did care what happened to him.
Brad chose his words carefully. He couldn't seem too 
enthusiastic, or she'd think he was bullshitting her. 
"Jasmine will never have to worry about her future, no 
matter what happens to her."

This was language that Julie both understood, and 
interpreted completely incorrectly. "She's not that 
kind of woman Brad. Jasmine will never allow herself to 
become a... kept woman."

"I didn't say she'd be a kept woman." said Brad. "It's 
complicated. I can't explain it right now. Jasmine and 
I have to talk about some things."

"You didn't have time to talk last night?" asked Josh, 
in things way over his head.

"They apparently didn't spend a lot of time... 
talking." said Julie in a huff. But the guarded look in 
her eye faded. The calculating look was back. "OK. I 
trust you. I don't know WHY I trust you, but I do. I'll 
know a lot more after I corner that girl and talk to 
her face to face." She smiled, but it was a 
professional smile, rather than one she felt down deep. 
"Now, why don't we enjoy lunch?"

"How can I enjoy lunch when I feel like I'm swimming in 
water filled with chum?" asked Josh plaintively.

Julie's laugh tinkled, and heads - male heads - turned 
to look wistfully at her smile, which was genuine this 
time. "You don't' have to worry about being bitten... 
until later tonight. Don't be too late tonight. I may 
be... excited... after I talk to Jasmine."

"I thought you were cutting me off for months and 
months." said Josh, actually confused.

Her laugh tinkled again and it sent chills down the 
back of both men. "Silly boy. You just let me decide 
when you need to be punished and when you don't."

The rest of lunch was much more pleasant, and Julie did 
give Brad the benefit of the doubt. But she also 
hurried through her meal, leaving a lot on her plate 
when she pushed it back.

"Gosh, I'm full," she announced. "Junior here is taking 
up more and more room. It's been fun boys, but I have a 
date to find out how Jasmine's appetite is."

Josh looked at her confused. Brad just looked at his 
plate.

Two hours later Josh got a phone call on his private 
line.

"Hi sweetheart," he said into the phone. "Everything 
OK?... Yes, he's here with me. You want to talk to 
him?... OK, I'll see you in a while."

He hung up. "She's on her way down here. She wants to 
see you." He paused for a minute. "Is there anything we 
need to talk about?"

"Not that I know of," said Brad. But his emotions were 
roiling underneath his cool exterior. What had Jasmine 
told Julie?


CHAPTER FOUR


About twenty minutes later Julie breezed into the 
office like she owned it. Her attitude was one that was 
professional in some senses. She walked like she had a 
purpose... a mission perhaps. Her face gave nothing 
away. She closed the door to Josh's office. "Should I 
go wash my hands again darling?" asked Josh. There was 
just the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

"No," she said tersely. "I want you to hear this." She 
turned to Brad. "Mister Tarkenton, do you love 
Jasmine?"

"WHAT?!" gasped Josh.

Brad gave her a look that most of his employees would 
have quailed from. It bounced off of her like water off 
a well-waxed Rolls Royce.

"Yes," said Brad, with finality in his voice.

"I have to sit down," moaned Josh. He did, thumping 
into his leather chair.

"You'd better," said Julie. "Because she's in love with 
you."

"After ONE NIGHT?!" moaned Josh.

"It's complicated" said Julie, using Brad's earlier 
words.

"I love her." said Brad. The sound of the words made 
his heart leap. He had no idea how this whole charade 
would play out, but saying that he loved her to someone 
other than her... making it public knowledge of a 
sort... made him feel better than he had in a long 
time.

"She said she'll be in your room when you get back." 
said Julie. She dug in her purse and pulled out another 
condom. She extended it to Brad, as if there weren't 
fifteen or twenty employees around the place who could 
see what she was handing him. She didn't have to say 
anything, and he took the little foil packet from her, 
slipping it into his pocket. "Use it... please." She 
said the last word as a real entreaty.

Then she pressed herself against him, her bulging belly 
firmly against him and kissed him on the lips. No one 
was more astonished than Brad, not even Josh. "That was 
from Jasmine." she said, her face a little pink. "And 
from me for making her happy. I love her too Brad."

Brad caught his breath, and before he could think about 
it he said "In that case I'm going to try to make her 
happy a lot."

Julie's thousand-dollar-a-night smile lit up the room. 
"Flirt!" she accused. Then she went to her husband and 
kissed him even more firmly. "Don't be late. I was 
right. I'm all excited." She unceremoniously walked out 
the door, leaving it open so that both men could see 
the sway of her baby-bearing hips as she called out 
greetings to several employees by name and headed for 
the elevator.

Tawny came in shortly afterward. She waited patiently 
as Josh and Brad finished talking about the advantages 
of using small businesses in subcontracts instead of 
dealing with the more bureaucratic larger ones. When 
the men turned their head toward her she said "I've 
cleared your calendar for the rest of the afternoon 
Josh. Mr. Tarkenton, I believe George is waiting for 
you downstairs.

Josh looked at Brad, who shrugged his shoulders. 
Neither man had seen Julie talk to Tawny on her way 
out. She took a step toward Brad and held out her hand 
as if to shake his. When he automatically clasped hers, 
he felt another foil packet being transferred to him. 
"I'm supposed to remind you to use it." she said 
sweetly.

Brad felt distinctly like he was being watched as Josh 
laughed out loud. He was already neatening up his desk 
in preparation for leaving. "I don't know about you, 
but I'm not keeping her waiting." he said.

Brad found himself about to be the only man in the 
office and started toward the door.

When George let him out of the limo at the hotel, he 
handed Brad another condom. "Sorry sir, just following 
orders. I'm supposed to remind you to..."

"Yes I know George... use it!" finished Brad. "Does 
everybody in town know about this?"

"Only the important people sir." came back George's 
completely sincere answer.

If Brad thought he'd have time to prepare himself, he 
was wrong. He smelled her perfume as soon as he opened 
the door. He followed his nose, calling out and hearing 
nothing. She was in the bedroom... on the bed. She was 
naked. Her hair was artfully spread out on both sides 
of her body, setting off her pale naked skin against 
the black background.

Her arms came up. "Hurry" she said throatily. "I need 
you now."

Brad's heart was in his throat. He was still clasping 
the condom George had handed him. He set it on the bed 
by her foot and began to disrobe. One feminine, 
delicate foot kicked the condom to the floor as she 
spread her legs open, showing him her glistening pussy. 
Her pussy lips were engorged and flushed. She'd been 
playing with herself as she waited. Her hands came up 
and tweaked her nipples, now devoid of any coloring and 
so pink that they almost disappeared against the pale 
skin of her breasts. She had tiny areolas that were the 
same pale shade, just slightly darker than white.

"How many condoms do you have?" she asked.

Brad's heart waqs conflicted. She'd never shown any 
interest in using condoms before. Maybe she'd changed 
her mind about... things. "Three" he said.

"Julie and George... who else?" she asked, panting with 
her need.

"Tawny" he said.

"Take them back. Take every one of them back. You tell 
Julie she doesn't own my womb and tell the rest to mind 
their own business. Now, come to me. I WANT you."

"But Sam, what about..?"

"Daddy, don't ruin this for me... please. I'm so horny 
I want to rub myself. But I don't want that. I want 
YOU. I want your big hard PRICK in me Daddy... and I 
want it right NOW!" she arched her hips up off the bed, 
presenting her pussy to him in all its glory. 

Brad was inflamed with lust. He almost vaulted onto the 
bed and she caught him, squeezing him and tugging him 
to her opening. He slid home with a grunt and, in the 
split second before he began hammering her with his 
prod he thought to himself "This IS home. THIS is where 
I belong."

Samantha cried out as she was filled and she felt at 
once the conflicting emotions of relief and heightened 
lust. She had needed to feel his hardness in her, but 
now it wasn't enough. Her body jerked as she almost 
lifted him with her pelvic thrusts and she opened 
herself to let him pound her. Faster and faster they 
went until he was exhausted and had to slam in and 
grind against her sex. That flipped a switch in her and 
she let herself cum, wailing and raking his back with 
long manicured fingernails. 

As her pleasure reached a pinnacle she felt him stiffen 
and emit a series of grunts as he tried, fully seated 
in her, to dig his way even deeper. There was a long 
hot flow of wet that she felt to her core and she 
almost screamed. Then she felt four more jets of his 
seed bursting out of his prick to inundate her womb and 
she cried tears of happiness.

Again, their lovemaking had left them both almost 
lifelessly limp. This time, though, they managed to 
roll so that she was on top, still firmly ensconced on 
his maleness. Her hair flowed over them both, like a 
blanket that tickled, but was welcome anyway.

"Oh Daddy I love you so much." she cried.

"I love you too baby." he replied, wishing he could 
think of some more grand way to say it. "I'll never 
sleep with another woman." he added, in his male-
thinking way.

Sam giggled, and her muscular contractions forced him 
out of her. He felt wetness begin to drool out of her, 
onto his pubic hair. "Men always say that, but they 
never mean it." she said, still panting into his neck.

"I mean it." he said. Then what he had learned came 
rushing upon him. "Julie says you never let a man 
inside you without a condom."

"That's true." she said simply. "But this is 
different."

Women thought that way. The fact that something was 
true, but untrue at the same time was logic only a 
woman could understand.

"Why is this different?" he asked, stroking her smooth 
back.

"You and Phillip are the only men allowed to put their 
seed into me." she said, as if that explained 
everything. "I love you both."

"And you've never loved another man?" he asked. She 
raised her head and her piercing eyes locked with his. 
"Never." she said. Her voice had a note of finality in 
it that brooked no argument.

"That's silly." said her father. "You're beautiful and 
smart. A lot of men would kill to have you for their 
wife. Why waste your youth on two men who could never 
marry you?"

"I don't love a lot of men." she said, raising herself 
enough to support herself with her elbows tucked up 
against her breasts, and lying on his chest. Her arms 
acted like a wonder bra and forced her breasts up and 
toward Brad's face, as if they were suddenly huge. He 
had an insane urge to suckle her nipples, but forced it 
down to continue the conversation.

"My name... my legal name... is Jasmine Trudeau. My 
life as Jasmine Trudeau has no connection whatsoever to 
Mister Brad Tarkenton or Mister Phillip Tarkenton. 
Phillip has a girlfriend, though, and I think he's 
going to marry her. She thinks I'm a silent partner in 
his business, and come to visit three or four times a 
year to check up on my investment. She's right about 
that, by the way, but she doesn't know about the rest. 
There is only one place where the record shows what 
my... former name was. The man who has that record will 
do whatever I tell him to with it. Records get lost, 
you know.

There was a pause and her face took on a look of 
something close to fear.

"Julie told me she asked you what you'd do if I got 
pregnant. She said you never answered her." The 
repeated question hung heavily in the air.

Brad's mind was going at mach three, trying to examine 
what she was saying between the lines. His heart 
hammered in his chest... so hard she had to feel it 
through her elbows. It was impossible. What she was 
suggesting could go wrong in so many ways he couldn't 
think of them all. There could be scandal. He could 
lose the company. No one would ever believe he didn't 
know who she really was. And... after what he'd done to 
her... why would she even want to do what he thought 
she was suggesting. He had to know and the fear was 
building in her eyes. He could feel her body 
stiffening.

"You'd consent? You'd even think seriously about being 
my... wife?"

"I've wanted to be your wife ever since that cow Jane 
came into our house and said she was my mother. I'd 
have made a better wife for you then, and I was only 
ten. And then you chose Trudy to try to fill Mommy's 
shoes. Phillip and I plotted ways to kill her, but we 
never could figure out a way that wouldn't have gotten 
us caught."

Brad thought she was kidding, but couldn't tell for 
sure. He didn't know what to say. His body felt so full 
at the thought that he might have Sam on his arm all 
the time... might come home to her every night... he 
was sure he was going to go insane with the tension 
that was bubbling just under the surface. He 
concentrated on her role as his lover and his prick 
surged toward erection.

Sam thought he was waffling. His eyes were darting all 
about. She used the last argument in her arsenal. "You 
need a wife Daddy. People will treat you different if 
you have a wife."

"I don't care what people think." he growled.

He pushed her off of him and she cried out, her fear 
breaking loose as she assumed he was rejecting her. But 
then he was on top of her, kneeing her legs apart 
roughly.

"I don't need a wife." he said harshly. He saw the 
tears in her eyes and realized what she was thinking.

"I need you." he said more softly. "I need you with me 
every day. I need you every night. I need you to live 
with me. Other people might call you my wife, and you 
can wear that name if you want to, but all I need is 
you. Please Sam, don't ever leave me. If you want me to 
marry you I will. If I have to pay off what's-his-name 
to bury your name change I will. But I don't care if 
we're married or not. I just want you to love me and to 
let me love you.

He lay on top of her and felt his prick at her 
entrance. He hunched forward and felt the sweet heat of 
her body taking him in. "Sweet, dear Samantha" he 
whispered. "Nobody will ever take your mother's place. 
But you don't need to baby. I love you just as much as 
I loved her. I'll do whatever you want me to do, but 
please don't ask me to use you to replace Elizabeth. I 
don't want to use you at all. I want to love you." She 
bit her lip as she felt herself being filled up again. 

"But you'd marry me if I asked you to?" she begged.

Brad shoved hard. "Yes!" he grunted as he bottomed out.

"And you'd get me pregnant?"

"Yes!" he lunged again.

"And I could live with you?" she whimpered, more tears 
forming in her eyes.

"Most DEFINITELY!" he lunged a third time.

"You have to ask me Daddy." she whined.

"Sam... will you marry me?" he asked, lunging a forth 
time.

"Sam CAN'T marry you." she cried.

"JASMINE TRUDEAU, WILL YOU FOR PITY'S SAKE MARRY ME?" 
he yelled.

"YEESSSSS!" she screamed. She went wild, shaking and 
jerking so much that he almost came unseated. She 
screamed her way through an orgasm that was completely 
emotional in nature. Then she bawled, though her body 
kept thrusting at him, doing what she had trained it to 
do. He began to pant as he neared his own release and 
she grabbed his face with her hands.

"Daddy" she cooed. "I had to hurry you. I'm sorry 
Daddy. But I'm at my most fertile today. I want your 
baby Daddy. I want to feel something living inside me. 
I want you to put OUR baby in me Daddy. I want our baby 
today! I've waited so long for this Daddy, please, 
don't make me wait any more."

Her words rang in his head like a huge bell and he felt 
his balls lurch as they supplied the substance she 
craved. In his mind's eye he saw his sperm mixed with 
semen rushed through his prick like a freight train and 
felt sweet release as it thundered into her womb. Like 
a S.W.A.T. team those sperm began fanning out, 
searching for their prey, hoping to find the egg they 
wanted to attack. Brad would have sworn he heard them 
screaming "HALT - SPREAD 'EM" as they surrounded the 
egg he hoped was waiting for them, trapped in her body, 
unable to defend itself.

He relaxed as he felt his last surge of seed flow into 
his willing daughter. He kissed her long and 
passionately as he used his muscles to try to force 
even one more drop into her receptive womb. Their kiss 
broke as they gasped for breath together. "I did my 
best sweetheart." he panted.

Jasmine laughed breathlessly. "You're not done yet. Not 
by a long shot. I ordered three dozen oysters. They 
should be here any minute."

Brad didn't want to get up, but if there came a knock 
at the door someone would need to open it or the bell 
boy might use his pass key. Suddenly Brad didn't want 
any other men seeing his lover undressed.

He had a horrified thought. "What about your... work?" 
he asked.

Jasmine slapped at him. "What work? I'm retired." He 
was still kissing her when the knock came. He lurched 
away from her, landing on his feet as she went "Ooofff" 
from the strain of taking his weight. "Daddy!" she 
yelped.'

"I don't want him to see you." he explained hastily as 
he grabbed up his pants.

"They know never to come in unless invited." she 
chided.

"Well then, I don't want those oysters to go bad. I'm 
suddenly starved!" he said, pulling on the pants.

Jasmine's laugh tinkled and it made shivers run through 
him as he went to the door and opened it, bare-chested. 

It was a bellboy he'd never seen before, and he held 
out the covered platter. "No signature necessary sir." 
he said with a grin, and turned on his heel as soon as 
he was sure Brad had a good hold on the platter.

She laughed at him again as he set the platter down on 
a table and whipped the lid off, grabbing up shells and 
slurping the meat as quickly as he could. Her laughter 
was music in his ears.

"Daddy, we have all afternoon." she said, stretching. 
He glanced at her and saw that her pussy lips were wet 
with his spend. She looked so erotic lying there, pale 
against her black hair. He had a sudden thought. "What 
are you going to call me?" he asked.

"I don't know if I can call you Brad or not. That would 
be too weird." she said.

"After all this, you think it would be weird?" he asked 
between slurps. "You can't call me Daddy." 

"Why not?" she pouted. "A lot of women call their 
husbands Daddy."

"Those women have children." he shot back between 
gulps.

"Then you'd better get finished there and make sure I 
have one too." she said, spreading her legs again. It 
didn't happen quite as soon as she wanted it to, and 
not anywhere as soon as HE wanted it to, but eventually 
she got him hard again and coaxed another thick load of 
his creamy spunk into her. during the shower afterward 
he tried and tried to get hard again, and she laughed 
at him as he scolded his penis. She sucked it lovingly, 
and laughed again as he flopped uselessly.

"I killed it." she said, with mock sadness. "Or maybe 
it will take a little while for the oysters to kick 
in."

While they waited for that to happen they got dressed 
and he took her to dinner. She made one phone call 
while they were waiting for their food. "Can I tell 
Julie?" she asked as she punched numbers.

"Julie has been bullying me." he said. "Let's make her 
wait."

Jasmine grinned and then had a conversation with her 
friend that Brad could tell was plainly designed to 
mystify and confuse her.

"Hi, it's me... Yes, everything's all right... Yes, 
we're together. We're having dinner... Julie! I said 
everything's fine. What do you want from me?... What do 
you THINK we did? What did you and Josh do?... Yes, it 
was nice... OK it was BETTER than nice... Of COURSE I 
still feel the same way. Oh, gotta go. The appetizers 
are here. See you later? OK, Bye."

She flipped the phone closed and looked at Brad. "She's 
going to kill me when she finds out. I all but cried on 
her shoulder when I saw her after lunch. I was a basket 
case."

"I told you I loved you." he said, reaching for her 
hand.

"Yes, but there's a difference between a man telling a 
woman he loves her, and telling a woman he'll marry her 
and give her children. I wasn't sure you'd... I wasn't 
sure it would work out."

"I'll have to take some steps to ensure your... uh... 
past identity... is securely buried." he said. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way." she said. "I didn't 
like being that girl."

"Sam... Jasmine... you know I have to go back to the 
coast tomorrow. This was just a short trip, to reward 
Josh for his good work."

"I need some time to finish things up here anyway. You 
know, wrap up some loose ends." she said carelessly.

"Well, I hope those loose ends don't involve any men 
who will expect you to... escort them." he said. "I'm 
very jealous, suddenly."

Jasmine got up and came around the table to kiss him. 
"After what I've experienced with you, other men would 
pale to insignificance. I've always been a sexual girl, 
and I won't lie to you... there have been men who 
brought me to orgasm. But no one... no one, Daddy... no 
one has ever made me feel like you did in the last two 
days. I'd rather rub my own pussy... I WILL rub my own 
pussy... before I let any other man touch me."

She looked suddenly astonished. "Wait. I do have to see 
another man."

Brad looked at her, waiting.

"I have to go see Phillip." She looked nervous. "I have 
to tell him what happened Daddy."

"And if he wants to..." he couldn't say the words. 

Both her hands grabbed his and she squeezed. "I told 
you Daddy, I love him too. He's been my lover since he 
was fourteen. We took each other's virginity. I can't 
shove him away from me Daddy. Please understand that."

Brad thought about what she was saying. She was telling 
him that he wouldn't always be the only man who had 
access to her naked body. And with Phillip she didn't 
use protection. He tried to envision Phillip, hunched 
over Jasmine as she spread her legs and invited him in 
to her sexual core.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't dredge up a picture in 
his mind of his own son. He could remember Phillip at 
seventeen, but he would have changed in the time that 
had passed.

Maybe it was his inability to put a face on the figure 
that was ravishing Jasmine. Maybe that made it less 
personal somehow. Maybe it was that he knew, deep in 
his gut that she loved him and would always love him. 
And maybe it was something in his subconscious that 
recognized that he had loved Elizabeth with all his 
heart... and now loved Jasmine with all his heart, 
which diminished his love for Elizabeth not at all. 
Maybe it was the realization that, when you pulled love 
out of your heart, there was always more there the next 
time you reached in... would ALWAYS be more when it was 
needed.

Whatever the reason, he arrived at the conclusion that 
her love for her brother was no threat to their 
relationship, regardless of what form their love took. 
If Phillip made her pregnant before he did, then he'd 
be a grandfather. If not, then he'd be a father... AND 
grandfather, come to think of it. Regardless, he would 
manage to father children on this lovely woman. And 
then he'd father another... and another... and 
another... 

"Daddy!" his reverie was broken by Jasmine, who was 
staring at him. "You haven't heard a word I said!" she 
said.

"I was thinking of babies." he said.

"Awwww" she cooed. "Our babies?"

"Ours and yours and Phillip's" he said automatically. 

"Daddy!" she gasped.

"Well, you said you love him, right?"

"Well, yes, of course. I DO love him." she said, off 
balance.

"And you said you've been lovers for years, right?" 

"Yes, but that doesn't mean..."

"And you said he's the only other man you have 
unprotected sex with, right?"

"Well yes, but he'll understand if I don't want to do 
that any more." she said.

"Jasmine, honey, why did you have unprotected sex with 
him before?" asked her father.

"I don't know. We just started that way I guess. And 
after that it just seemed normal." She looked puzzled.

"And did you ever worry about being pregnant by your 
brother?" he asked.

"Well sure. There were a couple of times I was late for 
a period and panicked, but it always turned out OK."

"But you never... graduated... to safe sex with your 
brother?" He seemed to be trying to make a point, but 
she wasn't seeing it.

"Of course not. He was Phillip. He was my brother. I 
loved him."

"And that meant that if you got pregnant, you... got 
pregnant." He looked at her.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came 
out. Her eyes took on a far away look and then snapped 
back to the present.

She frowned. "You know, I spent a hell of a lot of 
money for that therapist, who told me I was trying to 
get my father's love by fucking men for money. And then 
you came along and I fell in love with you... again. 
And I thought to myself that I hadn't wasted that money 
at all. But now, in two days, you managed to see more 
of my psyche than that damn doctor did in five YEARS!"

She closed her eyes, pressing them with her forefinger 
and thumb, as if she had a headache. She opened her 
eyes and looked at her father. "In answer to your 
hypothesis, yes, if Phillip would have knocked me up 
I'd have kept the baby and loved it as much as I love 
him. And yes, maybe I had some kind of subconscious 
wish that he WOULD knock me up. And yes, dammit, if I 
had a period and then went down there and he and I made 
love and then I missed a period I'd want to keep the 
baby to raise as ours when we're married. OK? I'm a 
slut. Now that that's taken care of, what are you going 
to do?"

Brad wanted to laugh. She was so young, and took so 
many things so seriously. The young did that. Some day 
she might grow jaded, like he felt sometimes, but for 
now everything mattered to her. She was disgusted with 
herself for being willing to let her brother impregnate 
her while she was in love with her father and trying to 
have HIS baby. Yet, she was honest enough to be honest 
not only with him, but with herself.

Oh, what tangled webs we weave... and in which we are 
sometimes caught.

"I," he said solemnly, "am going to marry the second 
love of my life, and I am going to do my double D best 
to make sure she is so pregnant that Phillip won't have 
the glimmer of a sliver of a chance to knock her up. 
And, after I've harvested maybe six or seven little 
copies of myself from her great big beautiful swollen 
up belly, and gotten my fill of milk straight from her 
twin fountains of youth, I MIGHT give Phillip a chance 
to get her with child. Just so he doesn't feel left 
out. He can huff and puff and shove and shake all he 
wants, but if I've already got a bun in your oven, all 
he can do is wait his damn turn. THAT's what I'm going 
to do."

Jasmine looked shocked at first, but then she giggled, 
and that turned into a laugh until she had to cover her 
mouth with a linen napkin while she shook with 
laughter. Finally she took a deep breath. "Thank you 
Daddy. I'll go see Phillip and tell him the good news 
and let him huff and puff. Then I'll come back here and 
tie up loose ends. I need to let the hotel know when 
I'm leaving."

She looked startled again. "When AM I leaving? We 
haven't planned ANYTHING yet Daddy!"

"Here's what I think. You can talk this over with Julie 
later, but here's what I think you should do. I think 
we should get married here, where all your friends are. 
Then I'll whisk you away on a honeymoon of sorts. I 
need to live back east for the present, but there's no 
reason we can't have homes spread around the country. 
And there's no reason I can't live in those homes for 
at least half of the year. My vision is to wean the 
company off of my undivided attention. I have several 
folks who are coming along nicely - Josh is one - who 
should be able to run things without my constant 
surveillance. Eventually we can live wherever we like 
the best for most of the year and I'll just fly in for 
board meetings and supervision trips and such. How's 
that for a plan?" 

"I want to make love to you... right now." said 
Jasmine, staring doe-eyed at her fiancé'.

"We can't. We have to eat lunch first. I'm getting back 
my strength while the oysters kick in... remember?"

"Can't we just have one little orgasm first? You only 
have to squirt once. You can save the rest for later." 
she whined.

"If you're going to be Mrs. Tarkenton, you're going to 
have to learn self control. If you're anything like 
Julie... and I believe with all my heart that you 
are... You're going to want to stick your pretty little 
nose into my business. And I don't mind you doing that. 
I've seen you at work on people, and you're fabulous. 
But you ARE going to have to learn to be patient. If 
you rush things you can spoil them." he said sagely.

Jasmine looked grumpy. "I fall in love with my Daddy. 
He doesn't notice me and marries two horrible witches. 
He ignores me and I run away from home, where I pine 
after him so much that I let any old man stick his 
peter in me. Years and years go by and then I see him 
and fall in love with him all over again and I FINALLY 
have sex with him. And that's not PATIENCE?!"

"You just eat lunch like a good little girl, and then 
Daddy will fuck your socks off, OK?"

Now it was Jasmine's thousand-dollar-a-nig