"Such A Good Girl"

"Such A Good Girl"​

(This role play is closed for WajaLover.)

Harry Timms had been courting a major new client for almost a year. He was desperate to land the account that could bring in almost $1 million worth of new paper product orders a year. The contract would save his struggling company and the forty-two jobs it provided.

Harry had pulled out the stops: he'd paid for Gregory Hume's suite at the local Hotel each time the man came to town; he'd rented him a luxury sedan to look around the city and coast; he'd taken him to innumerable dinners, an NBA basketball game, and a couple of months later to an MLB game as well.

And after all of this, Harry had no idea whether or not he was getting any closer to landing the account. He'd learned a little about Greg professionally, but he'd learned a whole lot more about him personally. And one thing he'd learned that connected the personal to the professional was beautiful women.

Each and every time Greg had met a beautiful woman during one of his visits, his business negotiations with Harry had loosened enough that Harry was able to gain a little more insight into the man and his company. And each time, Harry did what he could do with the contract to make it more appealing to the man he hoped to soon be in business with.

And finally, after all this time, Greg had requested a copy of the amended contract for his perusal. A few days later, Harry received a call from Greg's lawyers, saying that the man was coming to town to discuss a couple of sticking points.

"Just between you and me," the lawyer assured Harry, "if you catch him in a good mood this trip, I think we're in business together."

Harry was in seventh heaven! He did as he always did, making reservations for a hotel, a car, and an expensive dinner; and he was at the airport early to meet Greg. But when Mister Hume was waiting in line at airport security, his face was tied up in anger ... disappointment ... frustration? Harry couldn't tell.

A pair of women who had been on Greg's flight cleared security ahead of him. As they passed Harry, one of them glanced over her shoulder at Greg, then said to her friend, "Can you believe that line he used? What an ass."

Greg's world came crushing down on him: Greg had obviously made a play for one -- or even both -- of the women and had been shot down. He was certainly not in the good mood that the lawyer had referred to.

Harry turned away from the gate and began pacing back and forth, searching for a solution. He knew what he needed, of course: a woman who would pump up Greg's ego, flirt a bit, maybe go to dinner, maybe even make out in the man's rental car a bit before saying Next time you're in town, who knows what might happen.

Problem was, Harry didn't know any women like that. Or ... did he...?

His eyes widened with the possibility, then a little voice inside his head screamed You stupid fuck! You can't do that, what's wrong with you? And yet, he quickly whipped out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for his daughter.

"Honey! Harry exclaimed, overjoyed. "Thank god you answered. Are you at the house?"

His daughter had recently graduated from University and moved back home while she considered several job offers ... or a year back packing in Europe if her father got the contact and could afford to send her. Harry had raised her alone since just shortly after her eleventh birthday, when her mother was killed in a car crash.

For the next decade and then some, everything he'd ever done had been done with his daughter's future in mind. Every decision had been made only after asking, How will this affect my baby doll? He'd passed on several business ventures that might have made him millions because they would have required him to spend more time away from her, and Harry simply wasn't willing to do that.

Because of his devotion to her, Harry's daughter had grown up a smart, strong, confident young woman. He prided himself for the little girl he'd raised.

And, as if all of that wasn't good enough, she'd grown up a beautiful, sexy woman, too. Harry couldn't claim credit for that, of course: that beauty had come from his equally perfect wife.

As his daughter reached her teens, Harry began to become all too aware of his daughter's beauty, to the point that -- with great shame -- he sometimes found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to be with her in that way that no father and daughter -- regardless of age -- should ever be.

It wasn't an uncommon fantasy: as their little girls gained their womanly curves, lots of men fantasized about having carnal knowledge of them. And while he'd often peeped upon her while she sun bathed topless out on the patio, Harry had always been able to keep his hands to himself ... although, sometimes those hands shouldn't have been so to himself as they were.

After his daughter she told Harry that she was in fact at the house, he reminded her of Mister Hume's visit, then said, "Remember that thing I told you about him...? Yeah ... he likes women."

He chuckled aloud as she made an observation about Greg, then looked back toward security to ensure that Greg wasn't heading his way yet. "Well, I have a problem. He struck out with a couple of women on-- Yeah ... yeah, you see where this is going...?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He was going to ask whether she'd hang out around the house, maybe chat with the man a bit, maybe even go to dinner with the two of them, when she asked, "Daddy, would you like me to entertain Mister Hume for you?"

He laughed in great relief, saying, "Oh sweetheart, you read my mind."

"Harry...?"

He turned quickly to find Greg standing behind him, rolling bag in tow. Harry hung up quickly after saying, "Gotta go! See you soon."

The two exchanged greetings, then chatted as they headed for the car rental section. It was obvious to Harry that Greg was in a pissy mood. To make matter worse, Greg's cell rang, and it was the hotel telling him that a broken water pipe had flooded the Hotel and all guests were being shipped off to the city's motels.

"Go to my house, Greg," Harry insisted. "I have a guest room, and my daughter is there. She can let you in and assist you with whatever you need. I was considering inviting her to dinner, if you didn't mind."

Greg barely reacted, except to acknowledge the change in plans. As the man departed in his rental, Harry called his daughter again and told her she would have her work cut out for her. "I mentioned my daughter, and he didn't even flinch."

They chatted a bit before Harry hung up and waited for the shuttle to the short term parking lot. It was forty minutes -- not the typical ten -- before the shuttle arrived; Harry couldn't find his car; and then he couldn't find his keys!

"Is he there yet?" Harry asked, again calling his daughter.

"He just pulled in, Daddy," she answered.

"Well, all I can say is keep him entertained," Harry murmured. "We need him. Without him ... I think it's the end of the company. I, um ... I can rent a car for the day for what it would cost me to get a cab all that way, so ... I'll see you when I see you, honey."



Greg arrived at Harry's home, pulled out his carry-on bag, and made his way to the door. He rang the bell, but got no answer. He didn't realize that the bell had stopped working three weeks earlier, and Harry simply hadn't had the time to fix it yet. He opened the door and called, "Hello...? It's Gregory Hume. Hello?"

He heard a woman's voice call from upstairs and, thinking she was asking him inside, he entered and closed the door behind him. He was looking around the beautiful, spacious home, when he thought he again heard the woman call out. It sounded as if it was coming from out back, so he left his bag at the door, made his way across the foyer, and was exiting the sliding glass door when he saw a woman descending an outside spiral staircase ... fully exposed to the world: