A Marriage of Convenience (closed)

[saedo]

Closed for faerun girl

Simon raised a curious eyebrow as he looked at his calendar. No, surely that couldn't be right. He tapped his speakerphone and hit the speed dial for his secretary. "Karen, what's this last appointment you show for me this afternoon?"

A brief pause preceded her response. "Oh, that's right, Mr. Idris. She called while you were It's been a crazy week. Yes, she called earlier this week while you were on the trip east, so I scheduled it for when you'd be back. Seemed a little formal to request an official appointment, but I assumed since it was family you'd want me to accommodate them."

"Ex-family," Simon grumbled. He and his ex-wife had been divorced almost three years now. Not that it stopped Mariko's mother from inviting him to every damn family holiday. The clan matriarch regarded "family" in a manner similar to the Mafia: once a member, always a member. It was testament to her force of personality that Simon had found himself making an appearance at her Thanksgivings.

"No, Karen, it's fine," he continued. "My ex-wife is probably making some kind of point about not returning phone calls or something. I was just confused because you put down 'K. Fenn.' It should be 'M' for Mariko."

Another pause. "No, Mr. Idris. I have her down as K. Fenn. A Ms. Kara Fenn. Is that a problem?"

Simon blinked. Kara? His stepdaughter? Ex-stepdaughter, really. What could she possibly want? "That's fine, Karen. Just send her in when she arrives."

He leaned back into the leather of his executive chair and pondered this development. Kara? Of all people. He couldn't begin to fathom what would prompt her to contact him, let alone schedule an appointment.

To be fair, he hadn't known her all that well when he was her stepfather. He'd been married to Mariko during Kara's teen years, so he vaguely recalled arguments about fashion choices, extracurricular activities, and the like. Fortunately as the stepfather, nearly all of those were confined to Kara and her mother. Even then, those arguments were perhaps better termed as "discussions"; Kara was far more disposed to silent, withering gazes combined with weary eye rolls than screaming matches ending in slammed doors.

In that respect, she was a far cry from the heated verbal battles he'd had with his own father two decades prior. The message had been similar -- "parents are out touch and don't understand" -- but his stepdaughter has been vastly more measured and polite in her q delivery than he'd ever been.

The rest of the time she seemed to spend in her room studying. Or at least he assumed. He remembered it as a place covered in pink and stuffed animals, which seemed a very good reason to give it a wide berth.

At some point in there, she went off to school. Her attire changed. Hair color, too, if he wasn't mistaken. But by this point, things with Mariko had been accelerating towards the inevitable implosion of their marriage, so he'd spent even less attention on his quiet stepdaughter.

Simon couldn't recall much about her after that. Kara hadn't contacted him since the end of his marriage, but as her mother's daughter, he hadn't expected her to. She might have been at the recent Thanksgivings, but Nana Fenn alwaye pulled in dozens of people; he could have missed her in the crowd.

Besides, Simon usually spent his time at family gatherings trying to avoid his ex-wife. Encounters with Mariko since the divorce tended to start with chilly pleasantries followed by passive-aggressive conversation that usually escalated to either fiery arguments or angry sex followed by fiery arguments.

How old was she now? 20-something? And was she still in school? Working? Married? Kids? Simon shook his head. He really hasn't the foggiest idea. Especially as to why after years she was reaching out to him.

His phone buzzed. "Mr. Idris, Kara Fenn to see you."

"Send her in." Simon rose to his full 6'2" and straightened out the crease in his dark blue suit. Crossing from behind the imposing oak desk, he moved towards the door.

Moments later, it opened and a short, attractive woman with hair the color of midnight entered. "Hello, Kara," he greeted with a semblance of warmth. "To what do I owe your presence?"

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara knew she wasn't in the right mindset to see her ex-stepfather. She also did not truly need to see him for this--there were so many other ways to get what she wanted, but once the plan had been outlined in her mind, she felt that she couldn't do it any other way.

Yeah, right, you just want to see him.

She felt the same cold clamminess descend on her whenever she was anxious. But seeing her ex-stepfather wasn't where the nervousness came from. She knew she didn't have to ask him for help, and she knew a lot of other ways to get out of the muck she was in, and that this was the worst idea of all time, but she just couldn't help herself.

Still, while this was the most risky solution to her problem, it was also the quickest and had the biggest reward if she succeeded. While she wanted to do this for that heretofore-unacknowledged part of her traitorous, deviant heart, the children needed it.

Sure, now use the kids to justify your little adventure back into Simon country.

Perhaps she just missed him, and she could admit to that. It had been years, and she was an uninteresting, studious teenager back then, completely the opposite of the fiery, smouldering specimen that her mother presented.

Maybe she just needed to see a familiar face, even if it was Simon.

"Mr. Idris will see you now." the secretary told her, and she went in.

-------------------------------

Seeing Simon again, whether at their awkward family gatherings or when her mother still brought him along always felt like there was a knife at her back. Most of the time, it poked dangerously at her waist, but sometimes, she imagined the blade sliding down the back of her dress, slicing the fabric--

"Thank you for seeing me, Simon." she smiled at up him, her waist-length hair unbound as she though it would look nice with the high-waisted slacks, bralette and blazer she wore. She was afraid that her breasts would look indecent in the small inner garment, but the blazer really put everything together and the high waist didn't make her seem dumpy.

At 25, she still struggled with her body, as her small frame and dramatic curves didn't lend to great fashion choices--mostly leers. But Simon's office was on the expensive side of town, and she didn't want to embarrass him with a 'family' meeting that had her looking destitute.

"My mother sends her regards." she said formally, then to rip the bandaid off, she laid into him.

"I'm sorry I had to go through official channels, but I'm not here for me." he stood close to her, and it was getting a bit difficult to think. Why was he still so tall? Oh right, because she never grew out of her high school height.

"I'm here for Cradle of Love Foundation, the orphanage and child hospice I represent. C--can we please sit?"

 

[saedo]

Simon's eyebrows rose slightly as Kara entered. This was not the little girl he remembered.

Still little, perhaps. Even in the high heels she wore, Kara wasn't quite eye level with his shoulders. But the face was that of an young woman in her prime. Her beautiful, beautiful prime.

Mariko had been stunning in her own right, but her daughter was another level entirely. Must be something in the Fenn genes. Even elderly Nana had a regal beauty to her.

He let his eyes sweep over her once to admire her lovely form. Her breasts were absolutely incredible. Mariko had quite a pair, but Kara had outstripped her there as well. Even with the light support of the crop top she wore, the hefty spheres surged off her slender chest in total defiance of gravity. Fortunately for his visual discipline, her top covered the plentiful orbs entirely; he wasn't sure if he'd have the discipline to escape the abyssal cleavage she must have

After exchanging pleasantries, he had her sit in one of the client chairs opposite his desk as he reclined in his high-back leather chair. The wooden barrier helped considerably since it blocked his view of her exposed abdomen and much of her luscious bosom. He focused instead on her piercing gaze. Had she always had a trace of purple around her pupils?

The words coming out of her mouth soon killed whatever minor delight he'd felt. Midway through her talk, he pivoted his chair towards the massive floor-to-ceiling window along the south side of his office. He stared out at the impressive view of the city as Kara blathered on about unfortunate children and all the things she wanted to do to help them.

After some of the longest few minutes in his life, she finally stopped. Simon inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. He pivoted his chair back to face her and regarded her coolly. His fingers steepled together under his goatee as he held her lavender gaze with his steely blue.

"You shouldn't have opened with your mother," he declared just as the silence had begun to disquiet her. "Certainly not for a meeting like this. Oh, don't get me wrong. There are many things that I can still appreciate about my ex-wife. Our marriage wasn't all bad. But when appealing to my charity, perhaps the last thing you want to remind me of is the ex-wife whose favorite thing about me was the size of my bank account."

Simon leaned forward. With his height, he knew the speed modest shift in posture made him seem to loom over the oak desk. As an executive of his seniority, he was well-versed in projecting authority.

"Is this even you asking?" he inquired, the temperature in his tone dropping several degrees. "You've clearly talked to her about how best to approach me. She told you to wear that perfume, didn't you?" The faint scent had reached his nose during her presentation. Mariko used to wear it when she wanted to get him "in the mood". Or when she wanted something really expensive.

"Did she put you up to this? Am I being asked to fund an orphanage for children or is it really two weeks on the Mediterranean for her?"

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara had vowed not to do her entire child hospice spiel with Simon, but she had begun to feel out of sorts when his gaze was trained on her. He'd never looked at her that way as she grew up, and she thought that this was the look a predator gave game before they decided if the latter was worth it.

He had turned away now, and she knew she had lost him. This was not going like she thought it would. It was supposed to be her showing him that sponsoring her life's work wasn't just a boon to her, but also to his company. This was her selling her dream to a man she had admired all her life, and doing it without seeming like a little girl anymore.

Well, that failed spectacularly.

Kara stopped abruptly, realizing that Simon had grown bored. He was never a man to waste his time with maudlin sentimentality. She made a mistake. She shouldn't have been speaking to him like he was ever a part of her family--she should have been speaking to him like a sponsor from the start. She shouldn't have let the reason she got through the door be the same one that brought her success.

She was about to apologize for wasting his time, and was reaching into her bag to show him something when he said something that stopped her.

"You shouldn't have opened with your mother,"

Excuse me?

..the size of my bank account."

Did he just...?

Kara was not new to this sort of accusation, and it wasn't even far from the truth. Her mother never made it a secret she expected to be kept in a certain lifestyle, and after the divorce, she was still able to do that especially since Kara didn't need an upkeep. Truth be told, she had no ties left with Simon, but she wanted to be here and she wanted to ask him. She wanted him to see her.

She listened to him, feeling the sting of the accusations and she felt the need to apologize, to placate him and present herself in a softer way, but if there was something she knew about Simon, was that he despised weakness. It's probably why her mother managed to snag him. Her mother was a lot of things, but she was never weak.

She calmed herself down with a hand on her throat, which only highlighted the delicacy of her wrist to him, and when she drew her fingers down her chest, she didn't realize that her outfit had any effect at all on him. When in Rome, and all that.

"I can see why you think mentioning my mother isn't ideal, and for that I apologize. I didn't realize she still got to you." she couldn't help herself. He just accused her of being a gold digger and confused her with her mother. That wouldn't do.

Even if she could feel her stomach already tying in knots, she would finish the pitch. It was fight or flight, and these heels were only made for one thing.

"I wish you would have paid attention to what I said about needing to expand the hospice since we've been getting more referrals by the day, but I don't quite understand what my mother's perfume, which I have no idea of, has to do with this."

For some reason, she had to stop a sudden sob from erupting from her throat. It was close, but she was able to. Still, her eyes watered.

She pulled out a stack of files from her purse. "I'm not even wearing perfume, Simon. Can you please listen to my pitch or should I take the corporate social responsibility opportunity I have for your flagging company accountability image somewhere else?"

She held the folders up, which had everything she needed to secure a sponsorship from him that could be used for his taxes, and could give a whole host of compliance grades for his business. He could even use the foundation as a front--she didn't care. What she wanted was a full-time nurse, ten more beds, and hospital stocks she could leverage to get admissions for her wards without the usual charity song-and-dance.

She should have been speaking to him like this from the start, instead of coming in here like they had something between them. She'd seen him, looked her fill, and even heard his voice. That was enough. She'd cry her little girl tears in her big girl heels when she got home and not a moment before.

"So, should I leave this with Karen outside, or take it down to your competition?"

 

[saedo]

Simon's chilly response has clearly thrown his stepdaughter off balance. He could see her retreating slightly. But to her credit, she wasn't making a break for the door.

"I can see why you think mentioning my mother isn't ideal, and for that I apologize. I didn't realize she still got to you."

Now it was his turn to get his back up. Insinuating Mariko remained a sore spot for him suggested a weakness. Impudent little girl! But she wasn't wrong.

"I suppose, Kara," he grudgingly conceded, his eyes narrowing, "that isn't wholly inaccurate. Your mother and I never lacked for passion while we were married. That hasn't entirely gone away since the divorce. Perhaps it never will."

"But I expected more of you, Kara. You always struck me as a serious girl. Thoughtful. Studious. Perseverant. So to have you invoke your mother's old tricks was a surprise . . . and a disappointment."

That has her back on the ropes again. Her hand fluttered at her throat, hinting at her vulnerability. But again, she tried to rally.

I wish you would have paid attention to what I said about needing to expand the hospice since we've been getting more referrals by the day, but I don't quite understand what my mother's perfume, which I have no idea of, has to do with this. "I'm not even wearing perfume, Simon. Can you please listen to my pitch or should I take the corporate social responsibility opportunity I have for your flagging company accountability image somewhere else?

Both barrels this time. Trying to spin herself as a serious fundraiser while also trying to suggest his company to was now weak. Her mother's daughter indeed.

He rose from his chair, blue eyes blazing. Being so tall, his legs had him around the desk with unexpected swiftness. Simon stood in front of Kara's chair and bent over at the waist. His hands reached out for the armrests of her chair, currently occupied by Kara's arms as she stared up at him with wide, lavender eyes. Those became wide as saucers when his long fingers encircled her slender limbs and curled beneath the wooden armrests, holding her in place.

Supporting his torso with his arms, he bent nearly double at the waist to bring his face level with hers while she sat back in the chair. He regarded her from the miniscule distance, then leaned forward. Simon's face moved slowly past her left cheek. With mere inches separating their skin, he could feel the heat of her cheeks radiating against his.

He paused near her neck. The pulse of her vein was elevated beneath her soft, pale skin. His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. Yes, it was quite clear. The hints of jasmine and honey and something like cinnamon stirred old memories of another beautiful woman with dark eyes and soft lips.

Simon pulled back till he stared her in the eye again. "Liar," he declared with rumbling menace. "I can smell it on you." He held her gaze for a moment longer. Curiously, he felt a strong urge to kiss her. He ignored it and pushed himself upright, releasing his grip on her arms.

"There's no use trying to change horses midstream, darling," he continued. "Oh, I heard all your numbers and projections the first time. Your presentation wasn't half bad. Almost persuasive on the merits."

Simon's mustachioed upper lip curled in a sneer. "But you couldn't go with just that, hmm? Thought with your former stepdaddy, you needed to pull out all the stops. Maybe asked Mommy for a few tips on how to get in m and good graces. After all, she's had loads of experience getting money out of me, no?"

He chuckled coldly. "But I bet she did not tell you all of it. Not your elegant mother. No, I bet she left that part out. Wouldn't want to sully her regal image." Simon snorted derisively. "Queen Mariko."

"Well, let's see how far from the tree that apple falls, shall we?" Simon took a seat on the front edge of his desk. He twisted slightly and picked up a leather-bound corporate checkbook. Taking up a pen in his right hand, he flipped the book open and began to write.

" Your mother would do all of this. A tight dress instead of pants, but no underwear. Hair, makeup, perfume -- looking her best. A little wiggle of the hips. The warm tones, like butter on fresh pancakes. All of it."

"But yiu know what her power move was? When she really wanted something. When she just had to have it?"

Simon's eyes glittered like sapphires: cold, hard, unfeeling. "She'd unfasten my belt, go down on her dainty little knees, and suck my cock."

Simon drew his right hand across the page. The sound of the perforated paper tearing was surprisingly loud in the silence of his harsh revelation. He waved the check a few times to dry the ink, then held it out for Kara to see.

" You wanted $20,000? Here is a check for $50,000. It's yours, if you're prepared to do what your mothers would."

Simon nodded to the door. "Or you can walk out with nothing. If your principles matter more than those orphans. You choose, darling. What do you really want? "

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara knew then that going to her ex-stepdaddy, as he liked to call himself, was a complete mistake. Did she underestimate his cruelty? Was the man she knew growing up exactly as he portrayed himself, and were his very rare gentle eyes and tells actually a dream?

His proximity and height made her heart leap into her throat, and her pupils were blown wide simply by how close he was. She could hardly move, and meeting his gaze seemed the most difficult thing she had ever done in her entire life.

In the end, for some reason she couldn't explain, he won, and her eyes slid to the side in deference. But that didn't seem to make a difference, and his verbal lashing did not let up in the least.

The accusations on her scent continued, and she wondered--yes! Her mother had given her a quick hug and kissed her cheek before she left that morning. Was that what he smelled on her? But it was no matter whether her mother meant to transfer the scent to her daughter or not. She had left her mother at the hospice holding a day-old referral. When she saw her mother hold a baby so tenderly, she could forgive that woman anything.

"I can smell it on you."

Kara had to curl her hand into a fist to stop from slapping him. It was a near thing, and it was good he went back to his desk. There was a cup inside her, and it was about to be filled, and she didn't know what she would do when it overflowed with whatever was happening between them.

In her mind, this encounter could have gone any which way, from indulgent cheque-waving to being told to go home to her mother. But to have the cheque waved in front of her in exchange for sexual favor--she had read him completely wrong.

She didn't feel anything about how he belittled her mother. It was how Mariko Ryuuzaki liked it, and she always brought that game to the table wherever she went. You couldn't shame her mother for something she took pride in. No matter what her stepfather thought of her mom, he was right--she was a Queen.

And she was just a little girl who played with fire and got burned.

She suffered through the indignity of his cheque-writing, which technically would solve all the problems she was having with taking in referrals in the hospice. She wasn't really shocked or mad he was doing this--this was in character with everything he presented and wasn't a betrayal of any sort. This was pure Simon Trask, and Kara was simply out of her depth.

She calmly put the papers back into her purse, and stood up, facing the man who was Simon Trask all along. The sound of the paper tearing echoed the pain in her chest.

If she could have only seen him without her rose-colored glasses, perhaps she would have predicted this outcome better. If she had told her mother, would this have gone differently? Would Mariko be here earning Kara's $50,000 cheque instead?

She shook her head. That wouldn't do. The hospice was the reason she was here, but this awful, infuriating man was the reason she had asked for anything at all.

Kara tucked her long black hair behind one ear, and bent at the waist, the layers of black on her other shoulder cascading down her front as she did so, the blazer gaping. If Simon was looking, he could easily see just how laughably little her bralette did to contain her soft, generous breasts.

"Thank you for your time. It seems our foundation isn't the right fit for your company. I will relay your regards to my mother." she admitted defeat. It wasn't even her principles. She never looked down on women who used their body to earn or gain advantage. With the world the way it was, they all did what they needed to do to survive.

But in this case, sucking her ex-stepfather's cock wasn't necessary....yet.

She turned calmly toward the door, not waiting for him to dismiss her, leaving him waving his ridiculous money around like it's what she wanted to suck in the first place. If only he knew.

Oh, but perhaps he should. Then things would be clear. She would never go to Simon Trask for help ever again.

"Oh, and if you just asked, Daddy, I would have sucked your cock for free." she turned her head slightly to tell him and left his offices, waving at Karen with a fake smile that she would plaster on her face until she went back to her apartment and scrubbed herself clean of his presence thrice.

 

[saedo]

Simon watched his former stepdaughter react to his proposal. In truth, he did not know how she would react. For all his cold insinuation, he was only guessing she was like her mother. Certainly the physical resemblance was there. But even what he remembered of Kara growing up suggested she did not share her mother's temperament,l. He gave himself odds 70-30 of her accepting his proposal.

Mariko would certainly have bristled at such a direct trade. Though her methods yielded the same result, the veneer of propriety by not explicitly trading sexual pleasure for material reward mattered a great deal to his ex-wife. But after huffing and puffing about the indignity, she'd have grudgingly accepted it.

As such, he thought Kara's reaction might be in the same vein. Stick up her nose at his implied insult to her character, but then concede as if doing him a favor.

Except she didn't.

His former stepdaughter continued with the indignation, packing up her stuff and striding towards the door. Interesting. Maybe she was a woman of principles unlike her mother. And perhaps her former stepfather.

Or maybe it was a negotiating ploy. Refuse the first offer, wait a day or so, and counteroffer for more. Kara had always been bright. Maybe she was a more aggressive bargainer than he'd given her credit.

"Oh, and if you just asked, Daddy, I would have sucked your cock for free" she declared haughtily

Simon raised both eyebrows. The haughty departure he'd predicted as a possibility, so the less likely outcome playing out was only mildly surprising. But that parting phrase? That really had come out of nowhere. He hadn't been genuinely surprised like that in years.

Why had she said that? He wasn't sure she'd ever called him Daddy as a teenager. Certainly no in the years since the divorce. And what was that bit about sucking him off for free? It seemed so unlike her. Or at least, the her he remembered. Which wasn't much of a memory given his lackluster performance as a parent. Just who was his former stepdaughter now that she wasn't a teenager?

Simon found himself pondering that departing sentence the rest of the evening. And the next day. And the day after.

No counteroffer came, either. Though he checked with his secretary, no follow up calls or emails came in. Kara's departure appeared to be a definitive end.

And yet still he pondered.

~~~~~~
Simon felt a trace of satisfaction when he saw her face framed by the door Clearly after nearly two weeks, she hadn't expected him to show up at her doorstep just shy of 10 PM on a Thursday. Good. He wasn't the only one caught a little off guard.

"Ah, good, you're still up," he declared. The nights had been getting cooler after dark as autumn set in, so she'd donned a robe over whatever she wore underneath. The silk hem rippled against her knees as the chill air swirled past him.

"Look, I come bearing gifts," Simon continued. He pulled his left hand out of his trench coat pocket and thrust a glass bottle wrapped with a velvet ribbon towards her. Instinct dictated she hold out her hand to receive the offering, which meant she no longer held the door. He seized the opportunity to push it fully open and stepped inside.

"Come on, you know weren't going to keep your ex-stepfather standing outside in the cold," he declared when she realized he'd slipped past her into the foyer. "Besides, I think hospitality is part of the Fenn DNA. You were going to invite me in."

"It's perfume," he continued, nodding towards the bottle in hand. "You said you weren't wearing any the last time, but you really should. Especially in a negotiation. Scent is as much a projection of yourself as your attire or tone of voice.

"Don't worry; it's not your mother's. I misjudged you in thinking you were just like her. Clearly you're not. You're your own person, so you deserve something your own scent. I know a perfumer back east, so I had her craft something just for you. Give it a try. I think it will suit you."

Keeping his diatribe going kept him in control, so he didn't let up just yet. He stopped and bent forward, bringing his face more level with hers. "Okay, that's the peace offering. Now the other reason I'm here.

His eyes roamed her face for a moment. "That last thing you said to me. The bit about sucking Daddy's cock for free. Explain."

 

[faerun_girl]

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck Kara

Kara had always wondered how long she could feel embarrassment over something that she did, and she supposed she was getting her answer now. Remembering what she said to Simon before she left his office had her in a continuous cycle of cringe and outright anxiety. She didn't leave her house for two days, citing a bad case of the flu as she tried to reconcile her complete humiliation and basically propositioning her ex-stepfather after HE propositioned her.

Why did she even say that? This was insane. She'd never run her mouth with him--and she didn't expect to be doing that the moment he rejected her. But could anyone even blame her? She came in to ask for a favor--and unlike her mother, whom he said did so with different methods, she at least was honest with him.

Well mostly. She didn't really have to ask him--but she did, and so she was summarily rejected, ridiculed, and made a complete fool of herself. She was hoping that a few days when she didn't live in a world where she told her ex-stepfather she'd blow him for free would be great.

It didn't, and she had to go back to reality. And the only way to get over your own embarrassment was hold someone who wanted nothing but love.

So that's what she did for two weeks--work in the hospice where all she did was hold babies and toddlers in pain, whisper love to them, pour pure emotions until she couldn't take it anymore and could go home drained and cleansed again.

She was probably not going to attend any Fenn family gatherings until the rest of her life, too.

===================

Eventually, though, spending time in the hospice wing of her foundation would take its toll. Her coping mechanism would need its own coping mechanism. And she learned that horrid lesson today.

While Simon pondered on his former stepdaughter mouthing off on him, the problem that she went to Simon for in the first place still existed, and on top of having to reject kids that could definitely fare well here but could still survive somewhere else and losing another in the late afternoon like an angel just snatched up--she was back where she was weeks ago. What's more, one of them might not last the night.

Only this time, with the awful conversation she had with Simon.

Tomorrow, she'd put on the same outfit again and look for sponsors. Her mother didn't know what she did with Simon, hopefully, but now she wouldn't put it past him to tell her.

When her door sounded at 10pm, she only thought that two possibilities were behind it--her mother berating her for going to Simon or worse--they lost another one in the night.

But instead, it was Simon, dressed impeccably and looking utterly fresh, and barging into her home.

What?

He was pushing something into her hand, and saying something about gifts.

He didn't even know where she lived!

When he stepped over the threshold of her modest home, she actually felt like someone stepped over a grave with her name on it--but she was too surprised to see him, especially after expecting the worst news.

But wasn't he that, too?

She was too shocked to say anything, and the man just stepped into her foyer, looking around like he was an interior design appraiser person, or whoever went around judging people's houses on the inside for fun.

The thin black robe she was wearing over her ratty t-shirt wasn't the reason she felt cold. Despite heated flooring, the man who just walked in made the temperature drop by ten degrees.

He was so tall, and dressed for outside, while she had her hair in tangles, skin splotchy and bad from worry, and she was holding a bottle of perfume. This was the last thing she expected to be doing today.

"Simon, what are you--" she was about to ask, shaking her head and forgetting her manners. "I'm sorry, thank you for this but what are you--"

She had set the bottle on the table in the foyer, looking like an ominous potion.

When she turned to him again, his face was suddenly so very near, and her throat went dry, and her pupils dilated. Her hand came up to the base of her neck, showing him that she was not wearing a bra, with the way the fabric sank between her unbound breasts.

"Simon--it was nothing, I was just angry at you for--well for being mean." she had to take a deep breath to speak to him. For some reason, he made her feel so small.

"While my mother likes to do...Do that to you...when she wants something.."

Gag

"I would prefer to do it because I want to. I mean that. Not to you. Not specifically to you, to any guy. Not that I do it to any guy but--- Oh, you were just so awful!"

"What are you doing here? Did you seriously come here to ask me that?! You accused me of trading sexual favors for dying orphans, you awful man! If I was going to do that, I might as well have asked for a managed fund!"

She was hyperventilating. Somehow, his presence only made the waiting for another call or another doorbell even worse. Were things going to get worse? Was someone going to come in and tell her even worse news? Did he get this ridiculous perfume and come barging in at 10pm just to ask her about some stupid thing she mouthed off to him?!

She felt the anger leave her, and that there were indeed, worse things that being propositioned to save dying orphans. Like the actual dying orphans.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that, Simon. And that I--I called you that. But you didn't even apologize. So I guess we're even now."

She took a deep breath to calm herself, and looked up at his handsome face with her small, elfin one, her eyes clear despite her pupils blown open. Fine, she was weak, and he'd probably laugh at her now, and how she was shaking in her ratty shirt and silk robe, her thin legs, and bare feet beginning to get goosebumps from the open door.

"Would you like to have a drink?" she tilted her head then, sighing at the absurdity of her night.

 

[saedo]

Simon watched as his ex-stepdaughter wound herself up into an emotional froth. His initial appearance had obviously rocked her back on her figurative heels. He'd easily been able to push into her home with her so unsteady.

But once she started to reply, he could see her recover. Her tone became less hesitant and she went from justifying her actions to challenging his. Even her stature seemed to change; by the time she wound down her heated soliloquy, she seemed a couple inches taller than the meek mouse who had opened the door.

The transformation has another minor benefit for his male gaze. When Kara had cracked the door open, she'd kept her arms in close, subconsciously holding her silk robe against herself. By the time she concluded, she had one arm on a hip while the other supplemented her verbal pronouncements with vigorous gestures.

In so doing, her robe hung open, revealing a faded T-shirt that served as her makeshift nightie. Rather than something designed for the task, it appeared to be just a man's size. While certainly long enough to fall to mid-thigh, the man-sized neckline dipped low enough to show about an inch or so of her cleavage. He'd been right; Kara's impressive breasts made for a deep, eye-catching crevasse even with just a small portion on view.

He almost nearly missed her offer of a drink due to his fascination. Apparently having railed against his character so aggressively, she felt she might have overstepped as well. Perhaps they did share a bit in temperament.

"Yes, that was would be nice. Scotch, neat, if you have it."

He followed her down the short hallway into the main living area of the apartment. The overall size was somewhat compact, but clean and tidy. He noted the pictures of family and friends lining the walls. The membership of the Fenn clan was well in abundance. Not so much himself, though.

The living area had a sitting area opposite the flat-screen TV the contained a couch, coffee table, and an stuffed leather armchair. The last made him smile; years before, that had been his. Mariko had gotten the house in the divorce, so presumably she'd given it to Kara for furnishing her apartment. When Kara returned with drinks in hand, it amused him to see her curl her slender legs up beneath her on the soft leather, the chair clearly now hers.

Simon sipped at the drink. The vintage was clearly designed for mixed drinks rather than straight sipping, but he resisted the urge to comment. He'd been many years older than she before he'd learned the virtues of buying quality alcohol rather than whatever was cheapest per ounce.

"By the by, you're wrong about your mother," he began, peering into the brown liquid. "When you said 'she liked to do those things to me', I mean. She actually didn't. At least, not that particular thing. Or more precisely, not that particular thing with me." Simon smiled thinly at the pinpricks of memory.

"She didn't do that thing because she liked it; she did it because I liked it. And because I did, she got what she really wanted." He shrugged. "I don't know if that makes her actions better or worse. But I wouldn't want your thoughts of your mother to be colored by falsehood."

He took another sip of the scotch. "I suppose that may be why I keep thinking about what you said. Mariko didn't like doing that thing, but she would do it to get something from someone else." He gestured towards Kara with his index finger curled around the glass. "You refused to do it to get something from someone else, yet you said you would do it because you do like it. Curious."

Simon gazed at Kara for several long seconds, then shrugged. "You're not who I thought you would be. Honestly, I'm a little surprised to hear you indicate that you like guys. I don't remember you ever dating as a teen, so I suppose I thought you might be more into girls. Not just me, either. Mariko sometimes worried about whether she'd ever get a grandchild. Not that the two things are related, of course. Plenty of same sex couples have kids these days . . . . "

Simon paused a moment. The wisps of an idea were tugging at his mind, so he tried to bring it into focus. His voice slowed to a languid drawl as he conversed while distracted. "Is that something you want, Kara? A child, I mean?"

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara found herself having the oddest and one of the most embarrassing conversations she'd ever had in her entire life with her ex-stepfather. Twice now.

She shouldn't have invited him to stay for a drink, since she didn't carry any liquor that was usually to his taste, but her need to please an care for other people, even those who propositioned her and asked about blowjobs, won out.

And besides, he was still her ex-stepfather. Daddy.

She blushed at the memory, somehow calling him that was worse than the other thing she said, shame suffusing her features again two weeks after she tried hard to forget the incident.

For some reason, while Simon appeared immaculate at that moment, he was uncommonly maudlin--well, what could pass as maudlin for him. Was it because of her mother? Was he still in love with her? She knew that Simon Trask was one of her mother's "great loves" as she would say, but it was hard to tell whether what was great about him was the man or the money.

"Please let's not talk about--" but he had already started speaking, and thus Kara knew more than she cared about her mother. "Okay."

Blushing madly, but not really embarrassed for her mother but more for herself, Kara decided that she deserved this moment for being so impudent with him. Nevermind that he hasn't even apologized for what he said to her, she should never have spoken to him like that. She taught the children at the hospice to be kind everyday no matter how badly they were treated or spoken to, and here she was defying her own lesson.

But he still hadn't apologized. Was that what the perfume was for?

"You refused to do it to get something from someone else, yet you said you would do it because you do like it. Curious."

Curious? What was curious about that? She basically just told him she liked sucking cock. That was it. That was the gist. What more could be said? Kara liked to suck cock. And if Daddy asked, she would have. Not that there was anyone asking at all--but still.

She buried her face in her hands. When will this day end?

"Simon, I do apologize for what I said in your office--even if you did say something just as awful to me--but can we please just forget it?" she peeked at him from behind her fingers, and heard him suggest that she was into girls. But he appeared to be babbling. All towards the wrong conclusions.

Kara completely regretted going to his office now. There would have been better ways to ask him for help, and certainly more effective ones. There was a Fenn family dinner coming up, and being surrounded by relatives would have made him incapable of denying her.

But that wasn't the point. She didn't go to his office to succeed. She just went to his office because she wanted to see him. With Simon sitting on her couch, she could finally admit that. She felt awful she distressed him enough to seek her out and say all these things, even without an apology, when she was the one who initiated the encounter. She should have known better.

She didn't want to manipulate him, but ended up bothering him even more.

She let her legs down from the chair, and she was so short that her feet didn't touch the ground, Unknowingly, her robe and undershirt rode up her thigh, exposing creamy pale skin, her breasts swaying slightly beneath her clothes. Her unbound hair fell to her hips in straight, thick layers, begging to gathered and clasped together.

"Simon, I'm so--"

"Is that something you want, Kara? A child, I mean?"

Kara blinked at the question. Did she? Technically, she had all the children she could ever care for at the moment. The hospice was full and would hopefully remain so, and the well baby and well child wing were energetic and lively. Life in an orphanage was always far from ideal, but she'd like to think they were all her children.

"In case you forgot, Simon, I do run an orphanage. That makes your question quite moot. I already have...47 children." she smiled, some of the embarrassment gone. "Hopefully they'd all be intact by tomorrow, but yes, I do want more children and have quite a lot already."

She laughed, finally relaxing as the topic moved away from the memory that will have her wilt in shame for the rest of her life.

"Simon, why are you really here?"

 

[saedo]

After several minutes of emotional turmoil, Kara at last seemed to relax. She leaned toward rather than away from in her chair. Another half inch of her impressive cleavage appeared in the wide neckline of her worn T-shirt. Her lavender eyes softened. "Simon, why are you really here?

"I liked it better when you called me 'Daddy'." He narrowed his eyes for half a second just to give her pause, but then his blue gaze twinkled with merriment as he smiled, turning the rebuke into a jest.

"I told you. I brought you a gift." He nodded towards the foyer where she'd deposited the bottle. "Perhaps when after I leave, you'll muster up the courage to try it out. I think you'll find the slight notes of vanilla and honey to be quite complementary."

"And then you hospitably accepted my gesture by offering me a drink and presumably a bit of conversation, which is how I find myself in my present position." Simon swirled the last of his scorch in the glass before tipping it back.

"But I take your point. Unless fashion has truly taken a turn for the ultra casual, you're dressed for bed already. I shall not keep you any longer." Simon set down the glass on the coffee table and rose to his feet.

"No, no, I can see myself out. I'll leave you to the rest of your evening. I suppose I will see you at the next Fenn family function." He paused, then added with a salacious wink, "unless you have need to discuss the provision of blowjobs in the interim."

He turned away and was down the hallway before she could respond. Simon closed her front door behind him and headed for the street where he'd parked his car. He found himself oddly enthused by tonight's interaction, though he could not say why.

~~~~~~~~
Simon had expected that he that night's strange interlude to be the conclusion of the unexpected reconnection with his former stepdaughter. Certainly he wouldn't hear from her again. Nor did he.

But a week later, a sturdy invitation arrived in the mail from Nana Fenn. Ever a patron of the arts, the sprightly matron was part of some fundraising committee for the city opera. In light of the season, her group was throwing a masked soiree. Giving almost zero fucks about rotund singers warbling in Italian, this was one of the many events that Simon routinely answered with a small donation and negative R.S.V.P.

But Kara had always shared her grandmother's love of music. It seemed almost too coincidental that he might encounter her so soon. "Perhaps Fate is trying me something," he mused. "And it's no like my tux couldn't do with some use . . . ."

 

[faerun_girl]

"I liked it better when you called me 'Daddy'."

Kara almost spit out her drink, her legs falling down the chair that was clearly too tall for her, when he reminded her of that most embarrassing nickname she gave him, and that she had the audacity to say it out loud in his office. She decided that that moment should have been the perfect moment to die, and she would die a happy woman having escaped the worst social encounter of her adult life so far.

Unfortunately, the ground didn't swallow her up nor did lightning strike her--and it was too damn cold for any of that really convenient spontaneous human combustion to happen.

What was even worse, was that Simon considered it a joke--as if he carried an embarrassing story he could use to entertain people with at parties.

It was so hard to read his face. Was he waiting for her to say something? Was this a blackmail situation? Was she supposed to offer something so he wouldn't repeat a word of what she said to anyone else?

She was just about to, when he deflected the tense silence for her with a gesture towards the malevolent bottle of perfume sitting on her entryway table. She was more partial to powdery scents because it reminded her of newly-bathed children, but the fact he even knew what went into perfumes was sweet.

"It's a very sweet gesture, Simon. I appreciate it. No hard feelings over that incident a few weeks. I'm sorry again for that." she shook her head, and vowed to never ask her ex-stepfather for anything again. If she needed something from him, it was better if her mother asked. After all, he actually wanted to marry her. For a time.

Trying not to examine that specific train of thought and where it lead, Kara was about to pour him another drink when he waved her off. The tiny feeling of relief at his departure and that they had aired that stupid encounter between them over, he still left her like there was no floor beneath her bare feet.

"Simon!" she protested his mention of blowjobs, and she felt unbalanced in his presence again. Just when she thought she was safe.

But he was already out the door, and all she was left with was the bottle of perfume.

=============

Kara was tired, and she was about to utter the completely cliche desire of the "ordinary" girl to get out of the heels her mother talked her into wearing when she thought that this was the least she could do for the children. She also realized how horribly privileged that would be since she was at a party filled with her family and so many beautiful people while there were kids at the hospice on life support.

If getting more resources for her hospice wing required her to wear these same devil-made heels for the rest of her life, she'd sleep in them.

All in all, Nana Fenn's recent bash had netted her enough donations for a lot more facilities that the kids needed, but lacked the long-term partnership that would get her to hire a nurse or two and corner some medical suppliers for a few years.

While her little foundation was far from struggling, she wanted more space so she wouldn't have to turn away the referrals she knew would receive better care with her. She was already half-considering getting a nursing degree, but that would also mean hiring someone to take over a lot of the work she did with the children waiting to be adopted, and so she was back to square one.

No matter how she dressed it up, she needed someone to commit with her.

That startled a laugh out of her, almost throwing off the old woman she was talking to, who pledged to donate more beds just now, and was one of Nana's "old friends." Whatever that meant.

Who knew finding someone to fund her ambitious dream would be similar to finding a husband?

She had also been waiting if Simon would show up, both dreading and anticipating his arrival like he was the good-looking villain of her favorite drama. When the night wore on and he had failed to show up, she felt herself relax but get disappointed at the same time.

If he didn't show up, she would still have gotten to enjoy the opera, and secured some funding for a round of operations that some of the worse-off kids needed. If he did show up, she would get to see him again, and live in dread of the rest of the evening.

She excused herself for a moment, needing to use the powder room. She had to check if the cream-colored bare-midriff gown her mother insisted she wear didn't ride up and bunch at her armpits like she suspected it would. She wore a color that made her look a little younger than her real age, and wasn't too fitted, so she had freedom to move. It was a simple sleeveless top cut at the right place on her shoulder and ended up hanging enticingly over her just above her navel. Her breasts looked even bigger and higher thanks to how the midriff hung, the fabric cool against her bare nipples, that only needed tape.

Her mother assured her that this particular look did not require underwear.

Might as well wear it while her breasts were pretty high on her chest despite the size.

The high skirt fitted over the belly button, and her hair was free and tousled, like she had just tumbled out of a tryst. Her full skirt would have made her look small, but it had a high slit that showed off her toned leg and her nude heels.

She was glad she was too much of a coward to touch Simon's gift, as she was able to dab it on her wrists, her pulse points, on her sternum and the backs of her thighs before she left for the opera that evening.

Thankfully, everything was miraculously in place and she still looked like someone was interested enough to mess her hair.

Her arm had a large black cuff sporting a huge obsidian to offset the whole look. She checked the time, and decided to leave in thirty minutes.

 

[saedo]

The gala was being held in the home of one of the wealthier members of the booster committee. Simon felt a twinge of envy as he wandered about the impressive home with drink in hand. While his personal wealth was considerable, he wasn't quite at this level.

He wore a black tux along with nearly all the other men in attendance. The black mask over his eyes made him feel like one of the villains in the superhero comics of his youth. He thought the combination rather silly, but the rest of the attendees seemed to enjoy the chance to seem mysterious.

The women dressed in far more festive attire. Black was still a popular choice, but hues from across the rainbow added a welcome splash of color to the proceedings. And whereas the men's suits varied only subtly, the dresses varied from modest and matronly to bold and risqué. At least it gave him something to admire.

Most of the several dozen in attendance milled around the main room on the first floor
That was closest to the caterers and their ready supply of hors d'oeuvres and alcohol. After subjecting himself to Nana Fenn's welcome and a few minutes being chided about his absence from family events, Simon had opted for the second floor. The property owner had quite a collection of art on display, so Simon and a handful of other curious onlookers wandered about admiring the elegant displays.

"Simon? Is that you?"

Simon tensed. He'd hoped by sticking to the less popular areas, he might avoid seeing her. His ex always the mingling and martinis at these things, so the main room was her likely habitat.

He turned slowly. Even with the mask, his ex was hard to mistake for anyone else. Few here had curves like that contained in her dark red dress. But the way the corner of her mouth turned up when she smiled was indelible. He'd once found it sexy in the extreme. Now he found it vaguely predatory.

Lips painted the same shade of her dress grinned up at him as she strode towards him. His eyes naturally followed the sway she added to her hips. He was pretty sure she was also arching her back just a bit to throw her cleavage out at him. Always so calculating. "See anything you like?" she purred.

Simon inhaled slowly through his nose. Despite having recently celebrated her 39th birthday for the fourth time, Mariko had that same Fenn gene for nigh-eternal youth. Only a slight trace of laugh lines suggested otherwise. It was also a fact she seemed determined never to let him forget.

"Nice to see you, Mariko," he replied coolly. "I thought you'd be flitting about downstairs."

"I was. You know how Mother likes me to butter up the donors. Nearly a quarter million in the last hour."

Simon bit back a comment on her skill with parting men from their money. He'd sworn after their last encounter that he was going to stop falling into the same negative patterns with his ex. Yet his recent rush to judgement with Kara showed that he hadn't yet succeeded. Time he showed more discipline.

"I'm sure Nana was pleased."

"Yes. But then she mentioned that she'd seen you. I thought surely not. The Simon Idris I knew hated these charity things. The banal small talk, the crowds, the canapés . . . . And yet here you are? You haven't come to one of Mother's events since the divorce. Why now? "

Simon shrugged. "Maybe that's why. I haven't seen Nana in awhile. I always did like her."

Mariko smirked as she drew her fingertips along the underside of his tuxedo's lapel. "Still her favorite son-in-law," she sighed, "even though you're not an in-law. But then, there is a lot to like, I must admit."

Simon raised an eyebrow at the shift in her tone. Mariko had subtly closed the distance in the past minute. He glanced past her dark brown hair. The small study they occupied had held a few others minutes ago admiring the bronze sculptures near the door, but no longer. They were alone.

"Aren't you here with . . ." Simon had to struggle a moment to remote right name. " . . . Carlton?"

The dark red lips smirked. "Oh, of course. But he's downstairs talking golf or something equally dull with the other fat cats. That gives us plenty of time for one of our. . . interludes."

As if there was any doubt in her tone, her free hand brushes across the front of his trousers.

" Mariko . . . " he chided.

Her dark eyes flashed up at him. " Oh, don't use that tone with me. I know how much you still like fucking me, Simon. We've been divorced how many years and yet how many times have I sucked your huge cock? And don't tell me you feel bad about Carlton after what you did to me at the Bankston holiday party."

She wasn't wrong. Their divorce had never been dye to problems in the bedroom. If fucking alone could have solved their issues over money, honesty, and loyalty, they might still be married. Certainly he'd let sex delay their divorce longer than he should have.

And he'd certainly given into temptation in the years since. When they didn't wind up arguing like angry exes, they almost always wound up in bed. It was always a bad idea and usually ended in yet another argument, but a few months apart and a bit of alcohol to lubricate the conversation found them repeating that same mistake over and over.

"You know how that ends, Mariko. Always another fight. Always more anger. It's not good for either of us."

"Bit late to grow a conscience, Simon," his ex declared with a bit of heat. "You've never been one to take the high road, so don't start now. It doesn't suit you. Besides, I know what you want."

He inhaled sharply as her hand cupped his scrotum through his trousers. "God damn," she murmured up at him, her breath warm against his chin. "I miss holding these. And feeling you get hard . . ." She giggled like a girl a quarter her years. " . .. like that. Sooooo biiiig. I'm getting wet already Come on, Simon. This place must have a dozen bedrooms . . . ."

It'd be so easy to give in. He'd yet to find anyone that could pleasure him quite so well as she. And certainly it wasn't like he hadn't gone down this road a dozen times before. Even if it always was a mistake, it was always so enjoyable in the moment. After so many failures, what was one more?

But giving into the same negative behaviors had caused the rift with Kara. He'd let his twisted feelings about her mother color his actions towards his former stepdaughter. The look in her eyes as he'd intimated that she was just a gold digging whore . . . .

No. No more. He could ignore his actions when it only hurt himself and his ex. But Kara did not deserve that. Former stepfather or not, she deserved better from him. He needed to be better.

"No," he croaked, his throat dry. He swallowed and said more forcefully, "No." His tone was thick with lust, as was the growing cylindrical bulge along his right thigh.

Finally he has to put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to arm's length. "I said no, Mariko. We can't keep making the same mistake. This can't keep happening. We have to stop."

His ex's gaze went from surprise to a mirthless flower. "You're fucking serious?!" she spat. "You're just doing this to screw with me, aren't you? You know, you always were a selfish asshole, Simon. Fine. Fuck you and your monster cock. You'll never find anyone half as good as me." She slammed both hands into his ribs and attempted to shove him. "Fuck you. Fucking asshole."

Mariko half a dozen angry steps towards the exit to the main hallway, but then wheeled to face him. "And good luck going to downstairs looking like that, you fucking pervert," she snapped, gesturing at the bulge along his right thigh. Mariko pivoted on her heel once more and stalked off in huff.

Simon let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. That hadn't gone well, but he'd somehow managed to resist his baser nature. He glanced down at the outline of his aching cock. Even now his baser nature urged him to run after her. His will to be better had prevailed by the narrowest of margins. Hardly a victory.

The click of a heel on hardwood made him look up. The doorway to the hall was empty, though. Only then did he remember that the study had a second entrance. The side doorway led to a short passage connecting to one of the painting galleries. An empty doorway when he'd glanced around the room earlier. But not anymore.

The female figure was petite and clad in a cream dress that appeared to be only just containing a surprisingly perky bosom. Unlike most of the the evening gowns downstairs, this revealed a sliver of toned midriff above the long skirt that stretched down to her ankle but with a slit up one side that hinted at smooth, firm leg.

Her ivory mask concealed her identity, but the familiarity of the jet black hair cascading down her side and the set of her lips already had him feeling a sense of deja vu. "Uh, sorry, I . . . didn't see you . . . " Simon began. "Um, did you happen to overhear any of that?"

 

[faerun_girl]

As Kara stepped out from the powder room and made her way back to the her Nana's party, she heard something she hadn't heard for a quite a few years now--her mother and Simon arguing.

The two of them may have liked to think she never heard them fight, but she did, and she had felt bad for both of them at the time. She was old enough to know that they were ill-suited to each other emotionally and psychologically, and always wondered why they even held any interest in each other. Her mother usually liked much older men than her (which Kara undoubtedly inherited) and Simon was closer to her Mother's own age. But Simon was the single stable relationship her mother had when Kara was growing up, and so she thought that connection mattered.

Now, though, instead of her feeling bad for her mother, she felt bad for Simon. She heard her mother verbally abuse him, and already knew that she tried to cheat on Uncle Carlton with him. She truly loved her mother, but the way Mariko treated her partners was really shabby, she now realized. She didn't hear what they were saying yet, but her mother seemed really angry, and Simon sounded like he was trying to reason with her.

That was not going to go well.

She knew that Simon wouldn't accept her mother's behaviour anymore, especially with how he seemed to really loathe her before he realized she wasn't her mother. As much as she wanted to intervene, she didn't, as that would only anger her mother more and make things worse for Simon.

She heard a scuffle of men's shoes. All right that, was enough. Her mother could get physically abusive too.

When she heard her mother leave, the red beads of the skintight dress she wore shuffling away, she showed herself at the end of the hall, and walked towards Simon, who seemed both angry and dumbfounded that she was the person he would see after his heated argument with her mother.

"Fuck you. Fucking asshole."

She couldn't keep the disapproval off her face, and how much she was angry at her mother. Still, it wasn't a matter she should put her nose in. But if Simon could apologize with a ridiculous story about creating a custom perfume bottle for her, she could care about him for a few minutes and soothe the jagged edges of her mother's attention.

"And good luck going to downstairs looking like that, you fucking pervert,"

She approached him, not even caring about the mask she wore and whether he knew it was her, but it seemed that he did. She heard a scuffle. What had her mother done? Did she hit him? Scratch him? Not content with cheating on her current husband, she even hurt her ex while trying to use him to cheat.

She loved and hater her mother in equal turns. Tonight it was the the hate.

She sighed when she met him in the hall, a bit distressed with how he sounded less than the confident man she knew. Even with her heels she barely topped his shoulder. Her skirt brushed the floor just so, making her look taller but only until she was next to him again. She was still diminutive and had to look up. Without thinking her hand reached out to smooth his tux, seeing some creases, she pulled at the lapel and adjusted his tie with a stern face.

"Um, did you happen to overhear any of that?"

"I heard enough. Are you all right? Did she hit you?" she pouted up at him, then doffed the mask concealing her long lashed brown eyes, which accentuated the sweet pout of her bottom lip. "I'm not going to ask what that was about since it's none of my business, but she shouldn't have hurt you."

"Do you want to go back to Nana's party? Do you want to get a drink just you and me? I'm sorry I eavesdropped, but you were in the hall. I didn't hear everything, just the end when she--when she called you names."

She unknowingly ran her hands down his chest, checking if his tux was ripped, since she knew her mother liked to throw and tear things when she was mad. The fabric of her top moved as she ran her hands down his chest, Kara still oblivious to the large bulge on Simon's thigh and only concerned with how he felt.

 

[saedo]

That sinking sensation of familiarity became all the more concrete as the woman in cream approached. The tremors of flesh beneath her dress suggested curves even more luscious than his ex, a relative rarity even given the number of fatcat donors with artificially enhanced trophy wives who attended these events. But Mariko's all-natural femininity was a trait shared by a few others in the Fenn clan. Like her daughter.

All hope of it being anyone else vanished when the beautiful nymph stood where Mariko had moments earlier and looked up at him. Despite the ivory mask strapped to her face, the glint of lavender around pupils large with concern were unmistakable. Kara.

"Are you all right? Did she hit you?" she inquired.

A grim chuckle left his lips. Even as a woman grown, she retained a bit of innocence. "No, Kara. She didn't hit me. Your mother only hurts feelings and bank accounts." He paused, then added with a smirk, "Well, she did catch my forehead with wineglass that once. Usually her aim was so terrible than I never even had to duck."

Simon started to say he'd be fine. Yes, he had socially inappropriate lump along his right inner thigh that he needed to remedy, but a few minutes to calm himself should do the trick. Nothing to worry about.

Unfortunately, Kara closed with him, running her hands across his jacket as if looking for damage. The reduction of distance brought her body quite close to his. As he watched, her impressive breasts nearly brushed his chest. His steep viewing angle to her face also put her seemingly bottomless cleavage directly in his line of sight. And as if that weren't inducement enough, he detected the subtle notes of the perfume he'd acquired for her wafting up from her. (The perfumer had been right; the scent of her was most intoxicating.)

Any hope of quickly quieting his libido evaporated. After Mariko's kickstarted his lust, he could not ignore how devastatingly attractive his ex-stepdaughter was. Carnal thoughts swirled at the edges of his consciousness and blood began to plump out his semi-erect cock. He'd need more than a few minutes of quiet meditation to remedy this.

"No, no, it's fine," Simon replied hastily. "I just need to step away for a moment, though. If you'll excuse me . . . " He put his hands on her shoulders, trying not to notice how smooth her bare skin was.

Apparently Fate had decided his situation was not yet awkward enough. A pair of couples stepped in from the hallway, drinks in hand. They headed towards the bronze scultptures, apparently taking the same tour of the homeowner's art collection. They smiled in their general direction. Simon didn't recognized them with their masks, but he obviously couldn't let them see his current condition.

"On second thought," he murmured quietly, "don't move." He kept his hands on Kara's shoulders and leaned down with a feigned smile. "I need you to stay in front of me," he whispered furtively. "Your mother's efforts have left me in an . . . embarrasing state, so I need some cover before someone sees."

Simon glanced around the room. Privacy. He needed privacy. "I think there were some rooms down the hall," he continued. "We're going to walk calmly out of here and turn right. Then hopefully we find something. Okay?"

He didn't really wait for an answer or even to see if Kara understood what he was talking about. If he had to bumrush her into service to conceal his growing erection, then that's exactly what he'd do. So Simon pulled Kara's left shoulder towards him and spun her in place till she faced ahead. For a brief second, her left breast mashed into his torso firmly enough for him to feel one very impressive nipple before the hefty orb slid past and her back faced him.

He dropped his hands to her waistline, trying desperately not to dwell on just how taut and slender her body was. "All together now," he urged, pushing her forward. "Nice and easy."

If Kara had any doubt what he'd been referring to moments earlier, the thick bulge in his right trouser bouncing against her well-formed backside likely eliminated that. The press of her firm flesh against him only made it swell larger and harder. Simon could only trust that his stepdaughter had the wherewithal not to make a scene in front of the strangers.

Somehow he managed to walk with her blocking the view of his growing faux pas. The two couples nodded politely as he and Kara passed. One of the men did look admiringly at his stepdaughter's lovely decolletage, but no one stared towards his trousers. Success.

Once in the hallway, they pivoted to the right as planned. The first door proved to be a bathroom judging by the bored husband standing outside it holding a purse. The next was a linen closet. The third proved to be a small guest bedroom. Saying a small prayer of thanks, Simon hustled both of them inside and shut the door behind him.

"Sorry," he groaned, turning away from Kara lest she have to see any more. "Your mother thought it would be amusing to leave me in this . . . condition. She can be rather vindictive when she doesn't get her way."

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara was glad that Simon seemed to be unharmed from his altercation with her mother, even if he didn't want to admit that she got a bit physical with him. She knew her mother better than he did, and being pushed around was still bad.

Why was he here, anyway? He usually didn't attend these events and he hated the opera. Did he want to see her mother?

"If you're sure..." she was already starting to pull away, a bit hurt that he didn't acknowledge her offer to leave the party with him and make him feel better, but that was Simon for you.

Then she heard voices approach, and Simon spun her around so fast, her chest brushed against his own, and she had to suppress a soft squeak. Her question as to what was wrong with him immediately died on her lips when she felt a hardness against her right ass cheek, the stiff cock of her stepfather separated only by the layers of her skirt and his own clothes. What a day to wear thong.

Was he that big?! It seemed like he could lay his whole length along her ass, bisecting her flesh if he laid it flush on the crack. How that would feel if she raised her hips and let him sink between her--No!

She had to fist her hands as Simon herded her to a room along the hall, where he apparently needed privacy. She could just imagine why. For all he seemed to loathe her mother in turns, he was still man, capable of being lead about by his dick. Still, it took a lot to refuse her mother, especially since they weren't married any longer.

She would be lying if she didn't feel a bit hurt, though, that her mother still got him hard, while he would rather pay her in cheque for a blowjob. Goes to show that in some ways, Kara was not her mother's daughter.

The room was dark and cold, and she honestly couldn't tell where they were as her stepfather cleared his throat and turned away from her. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed. He used her to cover his hard-on!

"Your mother thought it would be amusing to leave me in this . . . condition. She can be rather vindictive when she doesn't get her way."

"Oh. Yes. I...I felt it." she said softly, realizing how that sounded in the next moment, and she stopped staring at his back, turning away as well to find they were in a darkened cold room, and her sleeveless dress, bare midriff, and high slit suddenly weren't such great ideas. She shivered, rubbing her arms.

Still, since she was the closest person to him, he could still smell the perfume he bought her.

"Do...Do you need help with that?" she couldn't help but remember how the hardness felt against her flesh, guessing about his size. She swallowed, her mouth going dry as her thoughts raced down a path completely taboo through sheer curiosity.

Beneath her dress, her nipples peaked against the tape, and she glanced back at him, her brown eyes hoping to find him looking at her too.

For some reason, something she wouldn't understand no matter how many months passed, she felt that this moment was the right time to remind him she was just as much a woman as her mother.

"I..I did say...I would do it for free." she said, her voice going lower "No hard feelings, no bank account to hurt. Would that do it for you, Daddy?"

 

[saedo]

Simon looked at the bulge along his right thigh. Its girth had already drawn the material uncomfortably taut and still it gradually swelled. "Dammit," he swore, reaching for his belt.

"Sorry darling," he replied dourly. "If I don't take it out, I'm liable to rip the inseam." He always had his tailors cut his trousers a bit loosely, but not enough to withstand the full might of his arousal. The image of him trying to sneak past a few dozen party-goers with a gaping hole in his pants only added to his sense of dread.

"You can go, Kara," he sighed as he slid his pants down, exposing his boxers. Just past the lower right hem, an enormous cockhead jutted past the silk. The huge knob was already bigger than one of his fists. Or maybe even both.

Ae predicted, the silk inseam suddenly failed midway up his thigh. The massive girth of his shaft was too much. At least he'd managed to salvage his pants.

" Do...Do you need help with that?"

Simon blinked. She hadn't left? Curiosity too much for her? Perhaps her compassion for a person in need? Or maybe a lingering sense of loyalty to her former stepfather?

"I wish I could tell you that didn't," Simon conceded. "This shouldn't be your problem to deal with. But the truth is that the quickest remedy for my condition is to get me to cum and I cannot deny that will take far less time to achieve if I have a beautiful woman assisting me."

He stepped out of his pants and what remained of his torn boxers. Then he pivoted towards his former stepdaughter. "Now you can see why your mother preferred to avoid oral sex," he added ruefully.

Simon watched as Kara goggled at his immensity. Her lavender eyes stared with stunned silence as the fleshy tower loomed before her. He could speculate as to her thoughts: Cocks aren't supposed to be longer than a ruler. Cocks aren't supposed to thicker than a soup can. Testicles aren't supposed to look like billiard balls.

But despite her obvious apprehension, Kara held her ground. She did not flinch or avert her gaze. Her violet orbs stared fixedly at the mammoth member. And to his surprise and delight, the bodice of her dress tented slowly as her nippies visibly hardened beneath. Damn, they must be huge.

I..I did say...I would do it for free." she said, her voice going lower "No hard feelings, no bank account to hurt. Would that do it for you, Daddy?

Simon groaned softly as a fresh wave of arousal surged through him. His erection visibly swelled at her suggestion. A thick pearl of precum formed at the tip of his cockhead. It gained in diameter for a few seconds before gravity sent it tumbling down his throbbing length.

"Yes," he confessed, his voice deep and rumbling with lust. "That would do it for me, darling." How long had it been since he'd wanted a woman this badly?

He took a deep breath to steady himself. And to tamp down the feral urge to throw her against the nearest flat surface.

"Lie down on the bed, face up," he directed. "Let your head dangle just a bit off the edge. The first time will be easier if we keep your throat lined up with your mouth."

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to deep throat me a little. Not all of it; not even your mother could do more than half. But I promise you that there's going to be way too much cum for you to swallow and you'll wind up drenched in it. You have to let me cum down your throat to avoid a catastrophic mess.

"Now remember to breathe through your nose. As it slides into your throat, at a certain depth, you're not going to be able breathe at all, even through your nose. Resist the instinct to panic. I'm not trying to choke you. Just hold your breath and stay calm till it slides out enough for you to breathe. "

"Okay, let's go, darling. Open wide for Daddy. "

 

[faerun_girl]

She'd called him Daddy again. It was only supposed to be for inside her head, and only in times of extreme weakness which didn't happen since that stupid stunt in his office, but for some reason, it slipped out now. Could she be blamed? The man was packing a monster.

How could she not?

Kara's mouth went dry at the sight of her former stepfather's cock. And his balls. And his thighs. Her eyes couldn't be fixated on one thing because there was simply...too much of him. Too thick, too long, too heavy.

Beneath her skirt, her slit wasn't damp. Heat flooded her, and she didn't know but she clenched her thighs together. Her body knew the right response to seeing his cock, even if her brain had yet to catch up. No man had ever looked more attractive.

She swallowed, understanding a little why her mother had been that incensed to be rejected. For some reason, just seeing Simon's penis grow, the bead of precum forming at the tip and rolling down made the space between her legs feel incredibly empty--and she didn't even know how he felt--or frankly how anything felt down there!

A hand came up to her throat again, and only pronounced how high her breasts pushed her cropped cream top. The nipple tape wasn't even holding anymore. She had to shake herself to look up at his face again. But it was a trial.

His face looked...different. Like he was hungry. A deep male groan escaped him, and she took a step back. Everything seemed so tense, and her dress was far too cold. For some reason she was both afraid of him, and wanted him to protect her too. From what could happen, from what was happening, and all the implications of her and her ex-stepfather locked in a cold, dark room.

"D..Daddy?"

Then he called her darling, and she was lost.

She obeyed, her pupils dilated, trying not to fixate on his cock. It was easy, since his face held more foreboding menace and a dark promise than anything she'd seen. In a few moments, she had arranged herself as he wanted, her long straight hair flowing down the bed, and her shoulders at the edge. She tried her best to keep her top from riding up, but she knew she'd lose that battle soon.

Her ex-stepfather's cock came into view, and from this angle it was even bigger. The way his heavy, enormous sacs framed his jutting rod as it bobbed was a show in itself.

She had been even more stupid than she thought when she told him she'd do this for free. She didn't even know what she was giving away.

"Now remember to breathe through your nose. As it slides into your throat, at a certain depth, you're not going to be able breathe at all, even through your nose. Resist the instinct to panic. I'm not trying to choke you. Just hold your breath and stay calm till it slides out enough for you to breathe. "

Listening to his instructions was hard. Her eyes, albeit upside down, followed the way his bulbous tip swayed. As he neared, the shadow of his rod fell on her small, pale face, and she was sure she wouldn't be able to do this. She was sure.

But because he said so, she would. It was that simple.

Instinctively, her hands came up grasp the back of his thighs like she'd done this a million times, and a scent she'd never smelled before wafted up her delicate nostrils. It smelled of cut grass and gunpowder, with something she couldn't place. Her mouth watered.

"Okay, let's go, darling. Open wide for Daddy. "

Yes, she was his darling, wasn't she? She was that all along, she just didn't know it until this moment.

Her neck strained, and it was as if another Kara was in her place, a Kara that trusted him completely, and knew to relax her throat and throw her head back a bit, causing her top to ride up completely, her breasts revealed to him with her large, dusky pink nipples topping her pale creamy flesh. The tips strained against the tape. Even lying down, they would be more than a handful for him, and they ached for his touch.

The Kara that was in her body then knew to say,

"Yes, Daddy."

And she opened her mouth to take him.

 

[saedo]

Simon watched with the slightest touch of surprise. Kara had seemed so offended and resistant mere weeks ago at even an offhand suggestion like this. But now with his massive erection in her face, she obeyed his directives without a word to the contrary.

When she laid herself prone on the bed, her breasts popped free with the effort. A rippling ache traveled through his enormous shaft as it swelled just that much more. Simon had seen him hundreds of naked tits before, but perhaps none quite so impressive as Kara's beautiful orbs. Mariko's came close, but even hers weren't so large and full. But mother and daughter shared the same firmness; even fkst on her back, Kara's breasts surged proudly upward rather than flattening into fleshy pancakes.

"I'm definitely going to have to titty-fuck you," he declared as he stepped towards her. "I've never seen quite so incredible a pair."

He might have done so then and there, but his growling libido had not yet rendered him mindless with lust. A proper titty-fuck would require lubrication, which they lacked. Moreover, the end result of such stimulation would typically result in his cumming profusely over whatever lay before him; it would benefit neither of them to have to return downstairs in cum-stained clothing.

"Some other time, darling," he vowed as he aimed his girthy pillar at her mouth. Engorged as he was, even his long fingers couldn't wrap fully around his thick shaft without using both hands. Fortunately Kara opened wide, tilting her head to give him a straight angle to her slender throat.

The enormous glans brushed against her lips as it slid inside her pink mouth. Her teeth ever so slightly grazed the widest portion, but thereafter he fit just fine. Her slender tongue slid across the top of the swollen shaft as he pushed into her mouth.

Kara's hands gripped his bare thighs as the cockhead eased along her soft palate to the entrance to her throat. "Here we go," he murmured, his voice rumbling out of his chest. "Deep breath."

Simon pushed forward gently, encountering modest resistance as his cock slid down her esophagus. Her throat muscles clenched around the intrusion and a faint "gluck, gluck" sound could be heard as the pressure on her windpipe increased.

Kara's nostrils flared as she strove to breathe. Her slender throat bulged obscenely around his cock, letting him track his own progress. Her breasts jiggled as her chest rose and fell with the effort.

But despite the stress on her system and the uncertainty in her big, lavender eyes, Kara did not gag. Not even when he pushed another inch further and saw that her efforts to breathe failed, her trachea all but blocked by the massive knob. A hint of panic appeared in her gaze, but she remained calm and did not immediately struggle.

Simon pulled back after only a second or two. That she'd managed well over a third of his length on her very first attempt was a remarkable achievement. Had she considerable experience at deep-throating her lovers? Or did she have a natural talent for it? Perhaps he'd ask her.

"Yesss," he hissed as he pulled out far enough to let her breathe through her nose once more. "Good, my darling. Very good indeed. Now just keep doing that. That's a good girl."

Simon began to pump slowly in and out of her, aiming for that same depth. He would have liked to test her limits a bit more. Going past the halfway mark was distinctly pleasurable not just physically, but for the sheer rarity; fee could claim to have swallowed so much of his sword. Likewise, he would have preferred a far more rapid pace, one which forced her to breathe in rapid gasps around his thrusts as he face-fucked her. But he needed this release too much to risk pushing her too far.

Both of them warmed up as the minutes ticked by. He could feel the sweat dampening his brow. A pink flush crept up her chest and across her face as the effort taxed her as well.

In truth, he could have finished in rather short order. Mariko had years of practice in arousing him. His personal dislike for her motives and ethics did little to counteract her ability to physically stimulate his erogenous zones. As such, he was already quite stimulated before Kara wrapped her lips around his throbbing cock. It wouldn't have taken long to let her get him to completion.

But pride precluded him from making this task easy for her. Simon brought not merely sheer size to the table, but also considerable stamina. It was partly a product of age, partly a product of skill, but assuredly a product of determination. Many of his sexual conquests had told him how much they enjoyed being with a man who did not cum quickly. And for those who found his endurance tiring, there was a certain schadenfreude to watching them struggle.

So Simon held tight to the reins on his libido. If Kara ever related this experience to a confidante, she would tell how she fellated him for nearly a quarter of an hour and yet he only got harder and thicker.

Still, even at this more sedate pace, he could not hold out indefinitely. As his own breaths came in deep rumbling inhalations and long groans of pleasure, he finally had to concede his mortality. His cock felt hard as wrought iron and his balls felt leaden with sperm. If he didn't cum soon, he might just pass out.

"Almost there, darling," he sighed as his quadriceps began to twitch. "Soon. Very soon. It's going to be a lot, so I'm going to just cum straight down your throat. Just relax and let it flow. That's a good girl."

 

[faerun_girl]

Kara had read too many romance novels not to know how this went down, and while she was a blushing virgin, she knew what she was supposed to do. And Simon was very clear and specific on what he wanted from her and what to expect.

He was almost considerate.

Kara would have said, "Yes, Daddy." when he said that he wanted to use her breasts, but the top of his cock was already in her mouth, and she had to take a second breath to widen her mouth--he was too big. She supposed he had heard enough of that for as long as he lived and she wouldn't bore him, but in the privacy of Kara's mind, there was a part of her that would always be agog with what Simon Idris had inside his pants.

Her magnificent bosom heaved as she prepared herself for when Simon would plunge into her throat, and she was glad she widened her mouth, because she knew her teeth would graze. But as he pressed on, she adjusted, and her tongue shyly swept his tip inside her mouth, the taste of his precum the first her virgin mouth would ever take.

The smell of gunpowder and grass intensified as her ex-stepfather pushed forward, and just as he said, she wanted to gag, and she wanted to push him away, but she stilled herself. She had enough breath for more, and his tip managed to get in her throat. He pressed in for a moment and she stilled...stilled....and breathed.

Like he promised, he was only there for a moment, and he was gentle. There was nothing to be afraid of, just like he said. He did everything he said he would. She looked up at him steadily, what view of him she could see with the large shaft against her nose. She sensed the presence of those large bulging sacs above her head, and wanted to feel them graze her skin...but that would mean taking more than half of him, and that was out of the question.

They got the rhythm of their sexual act quickly after that, as Kara's fingers gripped his thighs and her breasts fell and rose in time with her breaths and the motion of his hips. Still, it was work, and her jaw was tiring. The sheer taboo of what they were doing had yet to hit her, and for now, she just wanted to please him even as the apex of her thighs moistened and began to drip.

Her throat made wet, sucking sounds each time he pushed in and she forced herself to relax when he pulled out. She began to get worried. Why was it taking so long? Was she doing that awful a job? He didn't like it? Was she hurting him? Was it that awful?

Kara was completely unaware that Simon was merely trying to cement a reputation with her, and that his little assumption that she would be blabbing about this to anyone was unfounded. For Kara, what happened here was between her and him. She didn't need anyone to tell her how handsome he was--she already knew that. And if she had truly wanted to know his sexual prowess she did not have to go to these lengths; all she had to do was ask her mother.

His shaft began to throb and thicken, and she felt her jaw strain, and she began to make soft noises along with the lewd sucking noises in her throat.

"Soon. Very soon. It's going to be a lot, so I'm going to just cum straight down your throat. Just relax and let it flow. That's a good girl."

Kara braced herself, closing her eyes so she could concentrate on these last few moments, a little glad that he was going to finish. She hoped she didn't do that badly, seeing as he took so long in reaching climax. She was going to remember every single grunt and moan her former stepfather made, and keep this little tryst a secret she would take to her grave.

And then she heard his breath pick up and she took a larger breath through her nose that last time--and she was right.

He pressed into her throat, unintentionally going a little further, and stayed there a beat hence to unload his balls deep in her air passage. She forced herself to calm, but it was impossible, the twitching, warmth, and sheer volume of his cum was too much, and she felt tears form at the corner of her eyes. She didn't need to swallow, but she did, and soon enough she needed air.

Would this make this encounter completely illicit? He had only asked her to hide his predicament and again, she was the one offering her 'assistance'. Was she a slut? Did this make her a deviant, asking to relieve her former stepfather of his erection after her own mother made him that way? Where did that leave her? What was she?

Whatever she was, she couldn't deny to herself that she enjoyed this, that even if he seemed to not derive pleasure from her as much as she liked, her mouth had still eventually got him to finish, and that she did do it for free for her Daddy.

Luckily, the peak of his ejaculation was over, and he began to pull out slowly, moaning lowly as he did so, but there were still a few spurts left in him. His half-hard length was still considerably large, and left a trail of warm cum on her tongue, past her lips and on her pretty face. The heavy length was free of her mouth and it flopped wetly on her skin, and she had to let go of his thighs as the tip left a glob of his last spurt in her hair.

She sat up then, her top falling to cover her breasts, and she coughed softly into the back of her hand, dark hair falling forward to cover her face from his.

She slowly stood up from the bed, fumbling for her compact and tissue in her pocket to see how her face fared, hoping her makeup didn't run.

Crap.

It did run, but it was salvageable. Simon's seed was potent enough to move her foundation, mascara, and a bit of her brow product around.

She would need to leave. She tried to block the trembling she felt for no apparent reason, as she dabbed away at the globs of sperm that trailed up her face, and she made sure to take out the bits that had dried quickly on her scalp.

"Are...Are you all right now?" she asked him, finally turning to Simon as she pocketed her compact. She was breathing hard, and her top was a bit askew. Her makeup was no longer flawless but would withstand fleeting scrutiny.

Did she really do that? Did she really offer her mouth to Simon so he could relieve himself after her mother had gotten him hard? Did she just....?

"Simon?"

 

[saedo]

Simon's cock bucked within the confines of Kara's throat. His loads were always quite prodigious and the prolonged buildup to this one only made his output that much more. He clutched at her arms as her fingers dug into his thighs as he tried not to bellow with delight.

After what felt like an hour --but was assuredly a tiny fraction thereof -- the thick jets of cum firing down her throat lessened in volume and steadily tapered off. A wave of pleasurable exhaustion as he moved from the heart-pounding intensity of orgasm to the warm bliss that followed. His angry rigidity faded, becoming a thick but pliable mass around which Kara's esophagus was still clenching and still wheezing slightly to breathe.

Simon stepped back, pulling the enormous, semi-flaccid girth from her throat. Kara released her grip on her thighs, lowering her arms to her sides. One hand grasped her throat as the bulging obstruction was slowly removed. The other clasped around her torso, perhaps feeling the warm swell of his seed now in her stomach.

As he negotiated the fat cockhead from her leg lips, it dripped a few errant dollops of thick cum on her face before swinging back between his thighs. With a groan, she sat up on the bed, swinging her legs beneath her so she could sit uo straight. The globs shifted direction, forming a glistening trail down her right cheek.

Instinctively, Simon reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the monogrammed handkerchief he always carried. He reached out and dabbed at the sticky white, dabbing it off her face. "Hrm," he grunted at the results. Kara was cum free, but their vigorous efforts had left her mascara a bit runny, her lipstick smeared, and the rouge on her rich cheek smudged. "I think you're probably going to need to touch up your make up," he declared.

That awoke her from her quiet stupor. (He couldn't quite tell whether that stunned expression suggested she'd either enjoyed or detested the experience. Or both? Or neither?) Kara produced a compact and flipped it open with practiced ease. She scowled momentarily and then swiftly began repairing the damage to her makeup.

Simon in turn did his best to wipe off his dangling cock before redressing himself. In all fairness, there had been surprisingly little mess under the circumstances. They ought to be able to rejoin the party with no one the wiser.

Kara flipped the compact closed, her makeup once more pristine. (Like magic, he thought.) She then began tugging her dress back into alignment. He felt a twinge of regret as her incredible breasts were tucked away; such amazing tits ought not be hidden away. As she adjusted her decolletage, she spoke for the first time. " Are...Are you all right now? "

Simon nodded. "Yes, much better. You did well, darling." He tilted his head slightly to his right as he mused aloud. "In fact, very well. Remarkable, really, for our first time. Why, with some practice, you could probably . . . ."

His voice trailed off as his mind races ahead down thus possibility. Yes, if Kara coukd fellate him so well the first time, what could she do with more practice? Better than most, certainly. As good as Mariko? No, even better, most likely. Maybe the best blowjob he'd ever have.

His gaze flickered over her. And what else might they accomplish together? Would she be as good with her legs spread? Did it even really matter? The worst sex he'd ever had had still been pretty good. It was a crude joke, but not inaccurate.

No, he was sure of it. I could had not just been been natural talent. Kara could have whined or struggled or balked, but she hadn't. She'd wanted to be good at it. Fir pride or pleasure or whatever l, she'd wanted him to enjoy the experience. Someone like her with that attitude? She'd be phenomenal.

The very idea sent a fresh tingle down his spine. But fortunately so soon after his orgasmic high, reason and logic were able to exert some control. If he let himself run down this line of thought much longer, his libido would respond accordingly. The embarrassment that Kara had so graciously helped him avoid would reassert itself in short order. No, he couldn't let that pass. He has to shut down such fantasies and focus on the task at hand.

"Simon?"

He blinked. His long had he been staring off into space, distracted by such libidinous speculation? Too long, if Kara was looking at him like that. No, time to focus.

"Yes . . . yes, I'm fine now," he replied.

He placed his hands at her shoulders as she looked up at him and held her at arm's length. "Yes," he murmured, twisting her bodily to examine her left side. "Yes," he repeated as he twisted her to the right. He released her shoulders and plucked a bit of lint from her dress. "You look quite presentable. Perhaps a bit pointless once we put on the masks, but no half measures."

Simon donned his own mask and straightened his collar. "Good. I'll exit first and head downstairs. Wait a minute before you do the same. It's doubtful anyone would notice, but no point in being incautious. Right? There's a good girl."

He stepped to the door and cracked it slightly. He could hear voices from a room down the hallway, but the passage itself was clear. "Alright, darling, I'm going," he whispered. Then with a swiftness belying his size, he stepped out and was gone.

~~~~~~~~~
As he'd expected, no one paid Simon any him any undue attention. What was one more masked man in a dark suit amongst a sea of similarly garbed individuals? The only one who might notice anything was Mariko and he had no intention of any further contact with her. Besides, he'd attended the party long enough to satisfy any familial obligation to Nana. Simon drifted towards the exit and made a quiet getaway not long thereafter.

~~~~~
Simon made some effort in the days that followed to put the events of the masked ball behind him Unfortunately, his thoughts kept returning to that half hour with his stepdaughter. No matter how impractical the fantasies, he couldn't quite dismiss them.

But in time, a new thought arose: was it necessarily so impractical? Yes, he reflexively deckared. But the notion wouldn't quite die. The twin trains of thinking kept chugging away in the recesses of his mind. He often caught a glimpse of them fading into the distance as he awoke in the morning, fading away along with whatever dreams had occupied his slumber.

It'd be nearly a fortnight before he'd acquired the kernel of an actual idea. More days would pass fleshing out the possibility into an actual plan. But finally he had something worth serious consideration.

~~~~~~~~
"This is Simon Idris," he intoned to the voice at the other end of the phone. "I need to make an appointment with Miss Fenn. She spoke to me a month or so ago about a financial contribution to your organization . . . . Yes, you all do such marvelous things for the children. Very commendable."

"As I was saying, I've realized a possible source of funding for your efforts and wanted to sit down and discuss it with Miss Fenn. No, no, don't put me through. I'm afraid the details are quite involved; too much for a quick phone call. Just put me on her schedule so I can make a proper presentation.

"No, late afternoon might be better. Friday? No, no, that's actually rather perfect. Miss Fenn and I have known each other for years, so perhaps we might go to dinner afterwards. Yes, it's always nice to catch up.

"So you'll add it to her calendar? Good. Thank you so much. Good day."

 

[faerun_girl]

When Simon seemed an unfazed as she expected him to be, after she had obediently taken him down her slender throat, did she feel the soft catch of pain in her chest. She tried not to examine it, what with the indecipherable shock she was also processing, and that she just gave her ex-stepfather the first and only blowjob she had ever given a man. After her own mother gave him the same erection she took care of.

At least he helped her wipe his own cum off.

Kara hoped she wasn't shaking visibly, but then again it's not like Simon was the same as her--he probably wouldn't even notice or care. This was her own fault--perfume aside, she was supposed to know what kind of man Simon was.

Unaware that Simon was even considering future liaisons or that he was so pleased with her, she began hunting for the mask she dropped during their conversation. She produced it, and was glad the task kept the trembling at bay. She donned it and tilted her head at Simon, who seemed lost in his thoughts.

Was he regretting it too?

Much later, Kara would understand she didn't regret offering or helping him with his massive erection, and that it was what she truly wanted--but she would regret that she allowed herself to leave so unfulfilled, and had not demanded the man she fellated to take responsibility for the pleasure he sparked.

But that was much later, when she understood more of why she would offer to "help" him again and again. After many heartbreaks.

He gave her a cursory examination, checking her dress for something she didn't understand. She agreed to him leaving first, and she turned away, coming to watch the sky outside the bedroom's window so she didn't hear him say that he was gone.

It was a while before Kara realized that the party had died down, and that she didn't even see the rest of the fundraising bash. If Simon wanted to speak to her (why would he?) after, she didn't know because she had stayed in the bedroom.

She left when saw the cars driving away from the venue dwindling, when it didn't matter what her makeup looked like.

-----------------------------

"Miss Kara, Miss Kara!" she startled at the sink, almost dropping the dish when she felt a tug at her apron, and looked down to see Ferdinand, one of the boys from the orphan wing of her foundation. He had a pout on his face, his dark hair messy and clothes askew, like he had been in a tussle. She wouldn't be surprised if he had been, but would be surprised if he was calling her attention to snitch.

As much as she wanted to control everything going on in every nook and cranny of the estate, she couldn't--and shouldn't. She would never understand the culture of orphans, never being one, but she was assured that there were some of her aides who did in case that happened.

For the meantime, she had taken to alleviating some of the small chores that plagued the running of an orphanage such as cleaning, washing dishes, and buying supplies. Keeping busy was her own way of dealing with what happened to her and Simon at the party--even if it did effectively mean avoiding the matter all together.

As she expected, she did not hear from him after their encounter. She knew this would happen, but it was in her disgustingly earnest nature to hope. After all, if she lost all the hope she harbored for everyone in her life, then she would have no hope left for herself. And what would happen to all the children here if she lost hope?

Besides, that was her personal life. She had to remind herself that just because one part of her life was in shambles (or ruins), that didn't mean the rest had to be. Even if her romance and sex life comprised two come-ons directed at her former stepfather that had turned into a sexual encounter, there was still much more to Kara than her little taboo self.

But the past three deferrals of sick children still felt like failures, even if all the kids currently under her care were doing as fine as they could be. If only she could get a regular source of funding for the hospice wing.

But spacing out because the sound of the water splashing made her remember what other things had splashed down her throat was unacceptable. She was here to care for and support children. She could leave the trembling horror of her first pseudo-sexual encounter for home or other places. Not here.

"Oh, I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention, Ferdinand. What is it?" she wiped her hand on her apron and faced the boy fully.

"Sir said, 'You are late for your 4:00.'" the boy said, and Kara had to stop herself from swearing up a storm in front of the 5-year-old, and instead quickly removed the apron she was wearing and realized that yes, she had spaced out and completely forgot a meeting with a potential donor.

"Thank you, Ferdinand. You can run ahead and tell him I'll be there right away." and the boy sped away.

Was it already 4:00? Had she been at the sink for two hours already? Damn it, damn Simon.

No wonder her staff had looked curiously at her when she arrived at the hospice today in black tights, sneakers, an electric blue sports bra and a hoodie. Her black hair was tied in a very high ponytail and fell between her shoulder blades. She may have put on a little weight, as the bra was tighter than she remembered. It smashed her breasts together, pressed them, and pushed them upward, the V of her cleavage deeper but the pale flesh contained snugly.

She didn't even have any makeup on, and she probably smelled like she had been at the sink for hours. Which she had. She didn't remember if she had used perfume that morning.

But she had waved them off and asked what small tasks were left undone so she could help out. Good thing she kept a spare blazer in her office, which could be accessed through an emergency exit that she was running up to.

She barely had time to don the houndstooth print blazer that would at least elevate her sportswear when she heard the door to her office open. She fluffed her hair out of the collar with one hand, and had failed to read "Mr. Idris" as the contact for today's meeting when she heard a familiar voice that made all her efforts at putting that half-hour in a dimly-lit bedroom behind her.

 

[saedo]

Simon smiled as he entered the office. "Hello Kara," he greeted.

His former stepdaughter gave him the most curious look as she rose from behind her desk. More a table, really. Like most things in this establishment, it appeared to have been repurposed to its current function. Much of the furniture was well-crafted, but clearly had served its life in an expensive residential estate rather than in a professional office.

Kara's gaze wasn't quite what he expected, though. If she'd not wanted to meet with him, she'd likely have called to cancel the appointment. That she hadn't suggested she wanted to see him. Whether that was to warmly embrace him or angrily denigrate him remained to be seen, but he expected some strong emotion.

Instead, he got wide-eyed surprise as her lavender irises tracked up his dark blue suit and stared up at him. It was as if she'd no expectation of his arrival.

Her attire also seemed to suggest that she hadn't been expecting him. She wore a houndstooth blazer buttoned across her torso, but the amount of clavicle -- and cleavage -- on display showed no sign of an underlying blouse. His best guess was that she wore at most some sort of corset or perhaps merely a bra underneath. The blazer covered down past her hips, but as she stood behind her desk, he realized that she wasn't wearing tight pants, but black leggings, possibly even spandex. That seemed a curiously casual -- if not mismatched -- ensemble for a young woman who he knew to be quite cognizant about fashion.

What really sealed it was her height. Standing at her desk, she was noticeably shorter than the last time he'd seen her. No woman her size would ever choose to emphasize how short she was in a meeting like this by foregoing high heels.

No, she clearly hadn't expected to see him. Not dressed like that. Had her staff not informed her? Or was she that unaware of her own calendar?

"You look almost surprised to see me," Simon continued, his smile confident that he was right. "Did you not remember our meeting?"

He took a seat in one of the chairs opposite her. "No matter, darling. I will get to the matter at hand." He laid his right calf atop his left knee and reclined slightly, emphasizing his comfort level. "Please, take a seat."

"I confess that I thought about contacting you after our encounter at Nana's gala. But I thought that perhaps it was not something you wanted to discuss. Things done in dimly lit bedrooms often are best kept shrouded.

" Moreover, further engagement might be inadvisable given the familial connection. Much as I might have liked to see you again, you know the discord between your mother and me. I imagine she might see what you did for me as a potential betrayal. I would not want to put you in a difficult position with her because of that. So I intended to leave it alone. "

Simon paused, his eyes flickering across Kara's form. "But I could not. Leave it alone, I mean." He smirked slightly. "You should regard that as a compliment, darling. Rare is the woman who leaves such a lasting impression with me. I do not mean to suggest that they are all forgettable, but only that some are far more memorable than others. But what you did -- and how caring you did it -- was unforgettable."

"So while my fascination lingered, I wanted to know more about you. So I availed myself of . . . certain resources available to persons of means." He smiled. "Means I had you professionally investigated, darling. And do you know what I found out?"

Simon pointed a finger at her. "You, an educated, bright, beautiful young woman appear to have no social life. Dinner and drinks with friends once in awhile, sure. The occasional birthday party. Certainly all of the Fenn family events. But no special someone, boy or girl. No blind dates or Tinder hookups, either. No vacations to speak of."

He raised his hands and gestured at the room. "All your passion appears to be devoted to this place. It's not just a good cause. Aside from family, this is the thing you appear to care about most. Even more than yourself, I'd wager. And you work tirelessly to keep it safe."

Simon tapped his chin. "That's when I saw what we shared. An appreciation for the pragmatic. You understand the value of the bottom line. Of working hard to achieve an important end. Of doing what it takes to get what you want."

Simon sat back and regarded her coolly for several long seconds. "Do you know why your mother and I got divorced? I mean, besides the obvious mutual disdain. Rather, do you know what caused that disdain?"

He waved his finger at Kara before she could respond. "No, you don't. No one does. You'd have to know why we got married in the first place and no one does. Not the real reason. Because the real reason makes us look like terrible people." He shrugged. "Which maybe we are."

Simon grinned uncomfortably. Introspection wasn't pleasant. "Officially, it was a storybook romance. And there was passion. But really it was a business deal.

"You never got to meet my great aunt Gladys. She's the Nana of my family, only she looks like a prune rather than porcelain doll. Still, she always liked me. Didn't approve of my lifestyle, though. Saw even back then I was on a path to bachelorhood. Which I was. But Gladys thought I was wasting my life being single. She wanted me to settle down: get married, have some kids, join the PTA, the whole bit. But I wasn't listening.

"So when her nagging didn't work, she tried her other leverage: money. Trace my ancestry back far enough and you find tycoons on par with Rockefeller and Vanderbilt. So when Gladys died, she left a huge fortune. And she left a hefty chunk of that to me. Now I'm pretty successful already, but we're talking about shifting the decimal place on my net worth a few zeroes. Yeah, crazy rich territory.

"Except Aunt Gladys made it conditional. I only get the money if I'm married with a kid by the time. Otherwise, nada. Manipulative bitch," he added with a wry smile.

"Now if it'd just been marriage, maybe I would have done it for the money. But I take the possibility of fatherhood seriously. I wouldn't want my child growing up in a divorced home. But I also know that marriage isn't some fairy tale. You can't base a commitment on mere infatuation. You need mutually compatible self-interest, like in a contract.

He winked at Kara. "Now does my relationship with your mother make sense? Sure, we had that sexual heat, but Mariko understood as I did that you needed that compatible self-interest. Mariko wanted to be the wife of a handsome, rich man and I wanted a beautiful wife who would give me a child and be a good mother -- and make me a rich man. So we each got something out of the arrangement.

Simon sighed. "But then Mariko turned out to have that fertility problem. Gladys' bequest didn't include adoption or surrogate, so that meant no big inheritance. Since neither of us was getting what we wanted out of the agreement, things started to go south. We stuck it out for awhile, but like I said, passion alone only goes so far." He shrugged. "You know how that story ended."

"Long story, I know. But I'm getting to my point. See, I'd put the thoughts of that money aside. I made the attempt and failed. Game over. Time to move on. The opportunity had sailed. "But these last few weeks . . . ," he mused, rubbing his beard. "Maybe not."

Simon pointed at her across the table. "You're young, healthy, and beautiful. You're also smart and pragmatic." He gestured to the room. "And you care deeply about this place, which clearly needs money."

"Then there's me. Not so young, but healthy and handsome. Also a man of means and influence. And potentially a vast amount of money if I can get what I want: a wife and child."

He smiled. "Sounds like compatible self-interest to me. You marry me and have a child with me and we both become rich. You can then turn this place into a palace with your share. I call that a win-win. So what do you say, darling?"

 

[faerun_girl]

It was a testament to what kind of man her former stepfather was that he could even tell her all this, in her own office with a happy, reasonable demeanor.

But what you did -- and how caring you did it -- was unforgettable.

He thought it was caring? She left a lasting impression? Then why the silence for weeks? And that audacity to call her 'darling' as if he ever gave a thought about her when he was her actual stepfather. Does he think she's his darling now that he's decided he wants a repeat performance?

That's when I saw what we shared. An appreciation for the pragmatic. You understand the value of the bottom line. Of working hard to achieve an important end. Of doing what it takes to get what you want.

Kara's hands clenched on the desk. She should have noticed she was being followed. She regretted all the times she would decide to think of their stolen half-hour at the party on her way to work, while she was out on errands, and even inside the orphanage.

She wasn't surprised at his revelations with her mother. She was there for almost every single moment of that marriage, and she did not feel a shred of affection for her and more importantly--for her mother. The lack of love in that marriage only made her love her mother more--and to an extent, even Simon.

She'd never met two people who needed more love than her mother and Simon. And they were never going to get it from each other. Now she knew why. He could wink at her until his handsome eyes fell out, and he wouldn't change her mind.

But what Simon did get right was assuming she and her mother had a typical relationship. Learning about her mother's sexual experiences didn't shock or faze Kara. She had Kara too young, and put all the good she had in her in Kara, and they were more like sisters than mother and daughter.

In the span of a quarter-hour, since the moment he arrived, he always sought to control the conversation and make his proposal seem the reasonable one, when her own meeting with him months ago was more polite, for the good of a marginalized sector, and simply decent.

With Nana's party between them, though, Kara had made a mistake thinking anything decent would come between them any longer. Oddly, she regretted giving it up easily in a moment of concern--but not that she had given it up.

Kara couldn't help but go back thinking to what absurd notion had caught her heart to even show up at his office all those months ago--that had lead to a tryst in the dark and now a proposal of marriage.

After he revealed he hired someone to stalk her, investigate her, and that he thought her little 'organization' was a poorhouse.

It almost made Kara angry. But one thing she didn't inherit from her mother was the the incendiary anger that could sometimes turn abusive. When Kara was angry, she was calm, glittering, and clearheaded.

She knew why she asked Simon first for help. She knew why she offered to 'take care' of his not-so-little problem at Nana's party. She knew why she wasn't throwing him out of her office right now for the audacity.

Knowing the truth made her heart clench and a sort of pain bloom in her chest.

Kara took a deep breath and tried very hard not to look at his face for the moment. If she did she'd only avert her eyes. She took a breath first, touched her hand to her neck, and found her footing against this man, and where to place herself in this absurd conversation.

There was everything to be lost, and her dream to be gained--if she was brave.

"My on-the-record response to your proposal, Simon," she began, hoping to cut down on what she knew was a lot of flattery on his part.

"Is to ask to see the clauses in your Aunt Gladys' will and other pertinent papers proving the arrangement you claim, and its particulars. I am going to ask if I can have a lawyer look at them, but if you would rather not, I will respect your wishes. But I would still need to see them.

Kara looked up now, feeling back under control. "I also have a lot of other questions about your proposal, which you didn't even put in writing. If I say yes to this, we will have it in writing. It's going to be our pre-nup."

She almost faltered at that, but she already knew she'd say yes. Since he came to her leveraging her orphanage, she'd get the best deal out of this for her new hospice wing.

That's where Simon always got her wrong. He always valued appearances. He didn't know that she could have as much money as God, and her office would still look like this. But the hospice wing and the kids' dormitories would be palaces.

"I want to know how much money we are talking about, and how I get it. Do I get it once I pop out a baby? Do you hand it to me cold and hard? Or do I get a trust? Come on, Daddy, you can't talk about money without telling me all this."

She was picking up steam.

"You say you don't want a child growing up in a divorced home--does that mean I lose access to this imaginary fortune if I divorce you? On any sort of grounds? Are you that confident you can keep me happy for as long as you need me?"

Her mind was racing, trying to think of how to minimize risk on her orphanage and maximize her theoretical return from this absurd marriage proposal.

"You don't even know if I'm fertile. Do you even understand how that works? Or did you somehow ask your private investigator to break into my gynecological records too?"

She gave him a bitter smile. "And off the record, Daddy. If I do say yes to marrying you and having your child...for whatever reason you and I have...What sort of marriage are you actually proposing?"

"If I say yes, what does my heart get out of it?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"You are not the only donor, and you are not the only man who could give this to me. I don't have a social life now, but what if I decide to get one? What if I download Tinder right now and show all these lonely men I can suck their cocks all the way down my throat if I lie down like you taught me, and have double D's to keep their cheeks warm at night?"

Kara didn't realize it, but a blush had stolen up her chest and onto her cheeks, that belied her confidence. But it was no matter--she needed to know this for herself.

"What do you have to offer your little girl, Daddy?"

 

[saedo]

Kara spoke hesitantly at first, clearly still trying to grasp the implications of his idea. "I am going to ask if I can have a lawyer look at the will. If I say yes to this, we will have it in writing."

Simon smiled. He found it appealing to see that despite her youth, Kara was no fool. "I would expect no less, darling. Of course, there will be lawyers involved and a written agreement once this moves beyond the discussion phase.

"But there was no need for that now till I ascertained whether you'd even entertain the idea. If you were to reject this out-of-hand, then any formal draft would be a waste of time and money."

His stepdaughter's voice gathered f courage aa she considered the proposal more deeply. You say you don't want a child growing up in a divorced home--does that mean I lose access to this imaginary fortune if I divorce you? On any sort of grounds? Are you that confident you can keep me happy for as long as you need me?"

"I meant only that I do not intend for our relationship to end as soon as the inheritance is in hand. I am not having a child solely for pecuniary gain. If I am to be a father, I intend to be an active participant in my child's life. I am not going to walk away as my father did.

"To that end, I would prefer that we be cohabitating parents if possible. I think it best for the child not to be split between homes. I also think we should be able to share a home together as mother and father. But if we cannot abide one another, then I trust we will work together to find an arrangement that we can tolerate and that is beneficial to our child.

"I agree. Had a Mariko and I knowm more, we might have avoided considerable turmoil and vitriol. We will not make such an oversight.

"That is why our next meeting -- if you agree to the proposal in principle -- will be at a doctor's office. You and I will both be evaluated by a fertility specialist. If there's a problem with either of us, we'll decide whether to proceed or call the idea off.

"What sort of marriage are you actually proposing?"" Kara inquired pointedly.

Simon sighed. Her question was impertinent, but not unreasonable. After all, he was not suggesting they merely share a house together. What role would sex play in their future?

"Obviously sex would be required in order to obtain conception. Given the vagaries of reproduction, I would anticipate that multiple encounters would be required to improve our chances at success. Thus might take some weeks or even months; I'm told even fertile couples may not necessarily conceive immediately.

"Thereafter, we will be wed. I see no point in marrying first. But if you like, we can get engaged so that you can tell people now. That way it would appear that you got pregnant after we were engaged rather than the mild scandal of being compelled to marry because you got pregnant. And if our efforts to conceive fail, we can always call off the engagement with no one else the wiser.

"I would prefer to keep the wedding a low key affair, but I understand that a first wedding is a major event in a young woman's life and I will not deny your desires for pomp and circumstance. I also recognize that your Nana may have certain preferences for her favorite granddaughter's wedding that you may feel pressure to accommodate. I would only counsel that you may want to start planning now for something in the next few months if you prefer to marry before the pregnancy starts to show.

"As for what comes after . . .," Simon mused aloud, his eyes staring vacantly into the middle distance. "I suppose we will find the near future whether we are sexually compatible. I would have to insist on at least two such encounters per week, though more would be preferable.

"I realize that one blowjob is hardly a sufficient sample size for extrapolation, but I still have a good feeling about you. You showed not only raw ability, but an honest desire to please me. If you can maintain that attitude, I have every expectation that I can find sexual satisfaction with you.

"Of course, that is no guarantee that you will find the same from me. Certainly not on a long term basis. As you have seen firsthand, I am very well endowed and quite fecund. Some women find either my size or cum output to be undesirable. Or some find it an enjoyable novelty at first, but grow weary of it after repeated encounters. Or perhaps they want it far less frequently than I. Your mother, for example. Or perhaps they want a greater variety of partners than just their spouse. Again, like your mother. "

Simon rubbed his chin. "I would prefer if we could find satisfaction inside the marriage. But I am not so naive as to discount the possibility that we cannot. I would prefer that the marriage not end over something as base as sex.

" Perhaps we could agree to be honest about such matters? If one of us requires more than the other can comfortably provide, then we agree to work together to accommodate that need in a way that both find possible. Preferably in a discrete fashion that does not expose either of us to public rumor and innuendo? "

Simon regarded Kara across the small desk. " Would it assuage your concerns if I was to make a showing of good faith? You have already done me the pleasure of orally servicing me. I would be glad to return the gesture right now if you would like. "