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The Politician's Daughter Ch. 01

By: Carnal_Flower



Author's Note: This is a two part story. The second part is finished and will post next week. There's an initial tease here, but this first installment is mostly build-up. 

This story is my version of an "I want to be Daddy's whore" story, done in a different way than usual. Though it is entirely fictional, it was inspired by real events.

All characters are over the age of 18.

+++

Allison received the text just as she walked from the subway to her apartment on Lexington and 53rd. It was a Thursday night, one of those cold rainy evenings when all you wanted to do was get inside, put on a pair of sweats and curl up on the couch happy that the week was almost over. 

Seeing his words on the phone, she smiled with excitement and sped up to get home, now enjoying the walk, the city, and the rush of people all heading to places unknown.

The text she'd received was from her father, the Honorable Representative Paul Austin. It said: "Four Seasons, Room 1710, 11:00."

She knew he was in town. She'd seen him on TV that morning at a press conference with the mayor, looking distinguished and serious as they fielded questions about the upcoming elections. He was here on one of his press tours to support the local slate of candidates and urge people to get out and vote. A plug from Paul Austin, one of the city's most well-known Congressmen, always gave a huge bump in the polls. His experience, reputation for honesty, and his warm demeanor made him the perfect man for this kind of job. 

Of course, Allison knew the real reason he'd accepted this little chore, and why he was really in New York.

He'd left her a short voicemail that morning, in his calm, deep voice: "Hi sweetheart. I'll be tied up all day at the mayor's office. . . . I need to see you . . . Will text hotel, room and time and leave key at front office. Let yourself in."

So she'd watched him on TV that morning with that message in mind, knowing she'd be seeing him later.

He stood on a dais looking handsome in an immaculate gray suit, crisp white shirt and blue striped tie. Onscreen, her father had the startling beauty and charisma of a natural born actor, like all great politicians. He had just turned 50. He was tall and very fit, with a lean runner's body. He had classic All American looks, like he just stepped out of a Brooks Brothers ad—turquoise blue eyes, a dazzling smile and a perfect nose, and a strong jaw with just a hint of a cleft in his chin. His black hair was now entirely salt and pepper and tiny wrinkles were visible around his eyes and mouth. He was the very picture of a distinguished, powerful man.

The mayor introduced him to a loud spattering of applause—everyone loved Representative Austin, even those in the opposing party—and the minute he began to speak, there was silence. He spoke without notes, in a deep voice that was intimate and seductive, that appealed to both body and mind. He was smooth and polished, and gave off an air of authority and complete confidence. Allison loved hearing him speak. As handsome as he was, his intelligence was the most attractive thing about him. Her father was simply the smartest man she'd ever met. 

She watched him for a long time, getting more and more aroused. Seeing him on TV, in his element, drinking in his polished public persona, was the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world. Not because he was famous, and not just because he was her father, but because she loved thinking about their little secret at the same time. All of these people adored and worshipped him! He looked so honest, so professional, so utterly reliable and good! It made their relationship so much hotter, so much more forbidden and taboo. She knew he reveled in the secret and that he loved their dirty sex as much as she, in defiance of everything he represented to the world.

Allison was so worked up and aroused when she got home, she rushed inside, tore off her clothes and quickly got in the shower. She was standing naked in her bedroom deciding what to wear when her phone buzzed. She glanced at it: it was her fiancé, Peter.

"Hi honey."

"Allison, how are you?"

"Just getting in now. Long day."

"I know. So I see your father's in town. You didn't mention it."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just found out this morning."

"So does that mean tonight is off?"

"Yes, honey, I'm sorry. I haven't seen him for months, and he only has a few hours." Not exactly true.

"Well I'm tied up here anyway. Send him my best."

"I will, of course."

"Talk to you tomorrow?" 

"Yes, bye hon."

That done, she opened her top drawer and ran her hand through all the silky, lacy lingerie. She loved getting dressed for these meetings. In the end she chose a black lace bra and a tiny thong, and sheer black thigh highs. She had to squeeze her full breasts into the half-bra, which hooked in the front. Not being quite big enough for a D, her breasts always slightly overflowed a C-cup, and so her dark red nipples were completely exposed. She chose a simple light blue silk blouse that buttoned up the front, loving how her nipples poked through. She rubbed them slightly to make them even harder. She tucked this into a very tight, black silk skirt and slid her legs into black suede pumps. 

The blouse set off her blue eyes, which she got from Paul, to perfection. Allison got most of her looks from her father—her height (5' 8), dark brown hair, which she wore in loose, highlighted waves down to her shoulders, and sexy lips and beautiful smile. Like him, she also ran daily and kept very fit.

Lastly, she put on pearls and make-up—foundation, shadow, blush, mascara, and a rich application of sheer light plink gloss. Very nicely done. She wanted to slut it up but not look like a cheap hooker. She looked exactly like the kind of expensive call girl who serviced the needs of her father's class; it was all part of their game. Allison loved her father, and she knew he loved her, but their trysts were for sex, not for romance. She knew what turned him on and, at times, loved playing up the part of a whore. 

By the time she was ready it was 10:00; she called for a car and waited wet and aching and knowing that her father was feeling the same thing across town, wherever he was. It was what they both wanted and needed, and they knew they could neither resist it nor stop it. The reluctance and hesitation they'd gotten over with; there was nothing to do but embrace their inexplicable thirst for each other. Allison was in fact very happy with Peter and looking forward to getting married. But she simply had to be with her father from time to time, there was no way around it. 

In the car driving uptown, she got another text from him. "Will be there around 11:30. Looking forward." This made her so hot she had to reach up her skirt, her legs slightly spread, push aside her satin panties and furtively touch herself. She hoped the driver couldn't hear her gasp. She was so wet, her mind full of the images that morning of her Dad on TV, thinking of that delirious moment when she would get to feel him warm and naked in her arms.

The Four Seasons. She knew her father had chosen this as a little sign to her. It was their favorite place. So beautiful and rich and luxurious, it spoke of pleasure and enjoyment and was the perfect place for a whore to fuck her delighted client. This was one of their favorite role plays. 

As she walked to the front desk, she got a thrill out of the various men noticing her. Rich men, powerful men, handsome men. She unbuttoned her coat and let it fall open a bit, so that her barely contained breasts could bounce and jiggle as she walked, and her hard nipples could be plainly seen through her silk blouse. She got to the front desk and said, "Paul Austin, please." The clerk immediately handed her a key and said, "Here you go, Miss Austin." Dad had set it all up.

As she waited for the elevator, she sensed before she saw a man come up to her. He was gorgeous. Tall, silvery hair, well-dressed, obviously wealthy. She picked him for a lawyer. He stood too close, and was obviously staring. But Allison felt bold and held his sexy gaze. It was electric. She felt so slutty. He thought she was a call girl—escort, to be more accurate. She let her eyes say to him, "Too bad it's not you I'm going to see." 

He got in the elevator and blatantly stared at her for the entire ride, looking her up and down with the most direct and lascivious gaze. She gave him just the tiniest flirtatious smile. He had seen her push her floor and when it got close, he moved over and stood next to her. He leaned down right before she got off and said, "Is there some way to contact you? Who should I ask for?" Allison just smiled, thrilled that her apparent disguise was working so well, and slipped away.

Outside the suite stood a man. Daddy was not important enough to get Secret Service protection, of course, but he did employ a bodyguard when he traveled. John had been working for Paul for six years and he was completely professional and discrete. He knew Allison, and he knew of the long hours and sometimes nights she spent with her father in hotel rooms. But he had never betrayed a single flicker of acknowledgement of their relationship. He had to be stoic and close-mouthed; her father was on the Ethics Committee in the House, after all. Dad had searched for a long time to find someone so trustworthy. She smiled as she came up to him. He made the briefest nod, saying "Miss Austin," and quietly let her in. 

It was a gorgeous room, with plush carpets and furnishings, but with that classic, simplified style that suited her father so well. The interior lighting was dim; most of the illumination came instead from the city outside the window. Manhattan, lit up at night, surrounding her on three sides. It was sexy and beautiful.

She took off her coat and walked to the window. There was nothing to do now but wait, her body getting more aroused and excited by the minute. She could feel moisture creeping down her thighs, and a heavy ache settle in her belly. She was on fire with need. Her nipples were like a mother's calling for her baby—aching, hard, and demanding to be sucked! 

Finally she heard the latch turn and the door open, and caught her breath. All the sensations in her body shot up in intensity. She gasped, burning up with excitement, but didn't turn around. She heard Paul close the door quietly, and then toss his coat on the bed and his keys on the table. She kept completely still.

He walked over to her. She could see him reflected in the windows, looking a little tired, still wearing a suit, and could smell his subtle spicy cologne. Daddy's scent. It shot through her like a bullet. 

She could only take shallow breaths. She hadn't seen him for three months. It had been so long . . .

He came up close and as he did she felt her labia expand and contract with excitement and her clit stiffen as waves of delicious pleasure emanated upwards. With one hand, Paul reached out and touched her round, firm ass. He clutched the cheeks tightly so his middle finger slid deep between them. The other hand circled her waist and slowly traveled up to her breasts. Allison gasped so loudly, she was so turned on! Then she felt his lips on her neck, barely kissing, just grazing her skin as he continued to squeeze her cheeks and manhandle her breasts. She felt totally weak and supple in his strong arms.

He said, quietly, "Do you need to come?"

Allison could only whimper in response. 

"Open your legs a little bit."

His voice, his smells, his touch, electrified her. She couldn't stand up, she was too weak with desire. She sagged down a bit and let his strong arms and legs support her.

"It's ok . . . lean back . . ."

She gave in completely to the waves of intense pleasure shooting through her body as she spread her legs a little wider and felt his hand slip up under her skirt. With one hand he found her soaked panties; with the other he found her large, hard nipples through her silk shirt. She was passive and weak in his arms as he focused his attention on her sweet spots, bringing her quickly to a climax he knew she needed.

His hand pushed the silk panties to the side and she cried out when he pushed one, then two fingers inside her. "Dad . . . " she whispered, "Daddy . . . oh . . . oh . . ."

"Just relax . . ."

He fucked her very gently with his fingers, finding her G-spot and pushing up hard onto it and pressing. His other hand kept her nipples rock hard. 

"I know you need this," he said. 

"Ah!" She slumped in his arms as her orgasm ripped through her, her pussy exploding on his hand, her eyes rolling back in her head. It was always like this when she hadn't seen him for a long time. The need so great, their understanding so clear, it never took more than a few minutes for her to come. His arms shook a little bit with his own growing arousal, and she felt him pressing hard against her thigh. For several minutes Allison was utterly lost to the pleasure, the sharp, hard, urgent need peaking at the mercy of his strong, controlling hands. He felt every spasm, every pulse, every uncontrollable jerk of her muscles as the pleasure rocked her, evoking sharp, painful cries. Her eyes were fixed on nothing.

He whispered. "It's alright, Allison. Let it go."

She moaned from the sheer intensity of the electric sensations. Her sensitive clit was mashed against his hand, and he felt every twitch as she came. 

"Good girl," he said, "Relax. . ."

She clutched at him desperately, overwhelmed, sated and soothed with a pleasure that was so intense it felt like pain. He knew. He knew exactly what she was feeling. He held her and let her come down, saying, "It's ok . . ."

She moaned sweetly, mewling with pleasure, "Oh . . . take me to bed, now, please, take me . . ."

Paul picked her up and carried her and gently laid her on the bed. She was so flushed and weak she could only watch as he began to get undressed, as he carefully hung up his $3,000 suit jacket and then reached for his belt. She smiled at him as he slid over her and got close to her face. 

"Oh, I have missed you!" he said. He kissed her shoulders and neck. "Did you miss your Daddy?"

They fell into a deep perfect kiss. Paul sunk his hands into Allison's silky hair as he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. 

"Mmmmmm . . . fuck, I need this, baby. What a long goddamned day." 

Allison straddled him and smiled into his eyes as she took his cock and directed it to her spread, open legs. She gazed at his eyes thinking back to how this all started, to that summer four years ago, the summer she turned 21 . . .

+++

Allison had just graduated from college and was looking forward to a relaxing summer on their estate in Connecticut before starting a job in DC in the fall. In the past four years she'd hardly been home for more than a week at a time. But now she planned on three luxurious months, not doing much besides hanging out on the beach. Mom and Dad would be there, plus her younger brother Danny. Her older brother, Ken, would only be around for a month until his wedding in mid-July. It promised to be a big affair, held at the house. That was the only definite thing on her schedule.

Paul woke early on the day she was supposed to arrive with pleasurable anticipation. He'd missed her quite a bit these last four years, especially on their morning jogs on the beach. He got out of bed at dawn, trying not to wake Iris. But he heard her stirring as he laced up his running shoes. 

"Headed out?" she murmured, rolling over.

"Yes, for an early run. Go back to sleep."

"Allison's coming back to today."

"Yes, I know."

"I hope you do, Paul." There was tenseness and almost a warning in her voice. 

Paul didn't answer and headed out the door with his fists clenched. He really needed a good, long run. The path from the huge mansion led for a mile through heavy woods before it fed onto the beach, right onto the waters of Long Island Sound. God it was beautiful. He loved being up this early. He pounded the packed sand, working up a sweat and pushing and punishing his body to go faster and harder while thinking about his wife's "tone." 

They'd been married for 25 years. When he met her, Iris Rhysdale was an incredible catch. Blond and beautiful and smart, she came from one of those families where it was always expected she would marry a politician or someone else "in public service." She knew exactly what it meant to be the wife of a famous, powerful man; she had been groomed for it since birth. When they got married, it wasn't exactly for passionate love. It was more of a convenient alliance—he, the brilliant up and coming state senator from New York with the rock star looks, and she the cool, gorgeous daughter of an old and wealthy East Coast clan. They were the perfect social couple. She was always there, always behind him, the adoring wife with the adorable family looking on as Paul ascended to greater and greater success. 

From almost the very beginning of their marriage, they had had an "understanding." Paul could never quite remember who first brought it up, or how it was brought up. They both just knew this was not a traditional kind of marriage. His wife told him that she knew very well the temptations of a man in his position; he could have affairs, indulgences, as long as she never knew about it and as long as it never affected their children. One of her rules was that he not pursue any of his "extracurricular" activities while he was at the house, and never when the kids were around. But what he did in DC or on his many travels was his own business. 

For the most part, things worked. They got along. If they weren't exactly in love with each other, it was at least harmonious and affectionate, and they would always be united by their unquestioned love for their children. For 25 years he had held his end of the bargain, so it irritated him immensely to have her remind him of it as if he were a ten-year-old child. 

He knew why; it was because of Allison and what had happened when she was 16.

He never knew exactly what occurred, but somehow Allison found out about his lovers. She must have overheard him talking to one of them, or maybe one of her friends had shared some Washington gossip. He'd always taken great pains to be discrete, but maybe he had slipped up in some way. He was never entirely even sure that's what caused it, but there was no doubt that something traumatic happened to her. Iris insisted that could be the only reason for her dramatic change in personality. Allison had always been happy and outgoing, but almost overnight, it seemed, she got depressed. She cried all the time, stayed in her room, and had angry outbursts that were always directed at Paul. It was obvious whatever was bothering her had to do with him. She and Paul had always been extremely close. Everyone in the family knew she was his favorite, he'd never been able to hide it. But that closeness had abruptly ended. Allison ignored him and avoided him. Their relationship had never been the same.

Iris had been furious, and for the first time, had confronted Paul about his affairs.

"What did you do? Did you bring one of your sluts to the house?"

Paul had let that comment slide. "Of course I didn't. Allison's not an idiot, Iris. She has eyes and ears. Maybe she's just old enough to understand our marriage arrangement—an arrangement you have always agreed to, let me remind you."

"She's sixteen! She's just about to start dating! She's too young to know that her father likes to sleep with whores."

Again he ignored her insinuations. "Oh, don't start. Maybe if her own mother could talk to her, and get close to her, if you weren't always so goddamned busy with your 'social' schedule to have time for your daughter, we wouldn't be in this situation."


The Politician's Daughter Ch. 01



"Oh so it's my fault?"

This had led to vicious arguments, and to Paul cooling it completely with other women until Allison headed off to college. He'd never talked to her about it; he didn't even know if he should talk to her about it. 

Paul kept up his punishing run, partly from guilt and partly from rage. Like he needed to be reminded of that whole mess. Like he'd do anything to hurt Allison again. If it weren't for her coming back he'd make up some excuse to spend the whole summer in DC. But she was going to be here, and he was going to do his best to repair their relationship.

+++

Allison was thinking over some of the same things as she made the day's drive from Wisconsin. The prospect of being home for an extended stay was forcing her to think about the past. She'd avoided her family, particularly her father, for years, and coming back she knew it was finally time to deal with it.

Iris had been dead right. Allison had discovered her father's little "secret" when she was 16, and it had left her shattered. Looking back she couldn't believe how naïve she had been, how stupid not to have seen the truth. She knew her parents didn't have a normal kind of relationship. She'd always sensed that. It seemed more like an arrangement, just like the parents in all the political families in their social circle. It was polite, affectionate, and caring, but there was no passion. They never kissed or said "I love you" except in the most perfunctory way.

Still, that hadn't prepared her for the full revelation. 

Up until that moment, she had loved and adored and worshipped her father. She was a total Daddy's girl. She was not close to her mother; her world revolved entirely around Paul. They were so alike. They had the same interests, the same hobbies, they even looked alike, while her two blond brothers both took after Iris. She could share anything with him. She always felt like he alone understood her, and she him. 

Her love for her father had been all-consuming. From her earliest memories, he was the bright shining sun giving warmth and security to her existence. Until that day.

She remembered it like it was yesterday. She'd been heading to his study to see if he wanted to go for a run. No one else was home. The door to the study was open slightly, and she heard her Dad's voice, so she'd stopped and listened. At first, she thought he has talking to her, or about her, before she realized he wasn't. He was on the phone. He was laughing and speaking in a sexy, teasing voice, one she never heard at home or with her. It intrigued her, so she continued to listen.

"Oh, really, is that so?" He was joking with someone. "You'd do that for Daddy?"

Allison was riveted to the door, to the sound of his voice and what he was saying!

"Fuck I'm so hard right now."

"No, I'm stuck here for a few more days. Putting in some 'family time.' Goddamn, I'm not going to be able to get that picture out of my head."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. But maybe I can cut it short." 

He laughed again. "Mmmm, Jesus, I love it when you call me that."

"Fuck it. Let me see what I can do. Maybe I can get away a day early. Daddy needs to see you," he whispered.

"You miss me, baby girl? I would love it if you were waiting for me. In that red outfit. . ."

Allison couldn't take anymore. She ran to her room, shut the door, and curled up into a ball on her bed crying silent sobs, mortified that her father would hear her. She lay there in a state of total shock, paralyzed in horror. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. 

At the time, she simply couldn't have said why this was so unbearably painful to her. She knew it wasn't because he was "cheating" on her mother. She knew they did not have a real marriage. She wasn't worried about a divorce or anything like that. That was not what was making her cry. She only knew a pain like nothing she had ever felt seemed to cut her in two. 

It wasn't even what he had said, it was his tone. He sounded so happy! Her calm, always-in-control father was laughing and teasing and joking! She heard passion, joy and lust—wonderful emotions he never showed at home, even with her, his supposed "favorite!" For some reason this hurt her most of all. Was it all a joke? Was he just pretending to care about her? Was she just part of his "family" obligations? All the special time she had spent with him, just the two of them, had he been thinking about his "baby girl?" The thought was intolerable!

Driving in her car, Allison remembered every detail of that pain and shock. The discovery of Paul's secret sex life had completely traumatized her, though she simply had not understood at the time why it bothered her so much. She got depressed, she wouldn't eat, and most of all, she avoided her father. She distanced herself from him completely. She wanted nothing to do with him. By the time she left for school, the intense love she'd always had for him seemed like a thing of the past. She actively tried to push it away and not think about it. 

But it was a very different Allison returning home five years later. She was no longer a traumatized 16 year old. She was 21. She had grown up. 

A lot of that had to do with Jeremy, the man she had been seeing for two years. Jeremy was her first serious boyfriend. He was much older than her—when they'd met she had been a student in his Poli Sci class. She was 19, he was 39 and divorced. He was a smart, perceptive, very unusual man, at least to Allison. The attraction between them was obvious from the first day, but they'd held off dating until she was done with his class. And then, they were always together. She'd lived with him for the past year. He was her first real lover and the first man she had really opened up to. And that had changed everything. 

For one thing, having great sex for the first time in her life had softened her feelings for her father. She didn't know why, but she suspected it was because she could understand, finally, where he was coming from. Allison loved sex. She loved it so much that instead of resentment, she felt this odd sort of respect and kinship with her father for having lovers on the side. The pain of that discovery was still there, but her unrelenting rage seemed to just drain away. The more she learned about sex, the more intrigued she became with his clandestine life. She found herself wondering for the first time what exactly Paul did on his own time. She had never allowed her thoughts to go there before, it was just too painful.

For another, Jeremy had made her rethink her whole relationship to her father. She had never told a single soul about her discovery, much less all the trauma associated with. But a few months before she left, she told Jeremy all about "the incident," and they had talked about it a lot. He seemed very, very interested. He wanted to hear every detail, every word, and every single facet of her extreme reaction. Why had she gotten so upset? Why had it been so incredibly painful? He grilled her about it endlessly.

"Why does this interest you so much?" she had asked him one night in bed.

"Well, it seems obvious, hon."

"What?"

"You were in love with him."

"What! You're crazy!"

"No I'm not. Think about it. You say you weren't bothered by his cheating—on your mother, true. But he was cheating on you."

"On me?"

"Yes. Or at least, that's how you saw it. He was betraying you. That's why you were so incredibly hurt. And from what you told me, it sounds like the feelings were mutual."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Allison, come on. You're a smart girl. Did you not hear what you just told me? The words you heard your father say? Baby girl . . . Daddy . . ."

"Oh that doesn't mean anything. It's just role-playing."

"Maybe, and maybe not. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. It sounds to me like Daddy had a thing for Allison, too. Maybe he even knew you were listening that day. Like he wanted you to know." 

Once she'd told Jeremy the whole story, he never stopped talking and teasing her about it. Nothing escaped him.

"Come on, Allison, admit it. I'm just a Daddy figure for you! I'm older, I'm smart and successful, and I'm powerful, relative to you. And lo and behold I'm the first man you've ever been really attracted to. And gee, you've got this famous, brilliant, powerful father who, apparently, really likes to fuck. Use your brain!"

Part of her thought Jeremy was absolutely crazy. She had just never been able to see it that way. That whole incident was a blank she could not understand. 

But part of her could not stop thinking about it. She simply could not deny that maybe he had a point. 

All of these thoughts were swirling in her mind as she drove home. Her feelings were confused and shadowy, but Allison couldn't lie to herself. She had to admit that Jeremy's insights had deeply affected her. She kept hearing him saying, over and over in her head,

You were in love with him

The feelings were mutual.

Were they? She couldn't believe she was even thinking such a thing, but she also couldn't deny there was a strange excitement drawing her back to Connecticut. 

Jeremy was off to Europe for the summer to do research. They'd be in touch, but Allison knew very well the excitement she was feeling was not for him. 

+++

"Well, sweetheart, how was your drive!"

Allison sat on a stool in the vast gleaming kitchen listening to her mother's perky voice. Iris, in her full glory. Immaculately coiffed, perfectly made up, dressed to the nines, and impossibly cheerful. 

"Oh, it's so good to see youuuuu" Iris cooed as she gave her an awkward hug. 

"I'm fine, Mom. The drive was fine. Where's Danny?"

"Oh he's visiting Ken in the city. They won't be back until next week. But I told them you're coming. I'm sure they want to see you!"

"And what about Daddy?"

She saw Iris's face become tense. "Oh he'll be along. He took the boat out."

Allison felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach. "So late?"

"Oh I know he wanted to be here to welcome you, honey!"

"It's ok, Mom. I'll be here for three months. There's no need to make a big fuss."

"So what are your plans for the summer, sweetheart? Are any of your old friends around?"

"Yes, I think Sarah's home. I'm sure I'll be seeing her. And—"

But she was interrupted by Iris making a relieved sigh, "There you are, Paul! Come here, Allison's home."

Allison was shocked at how strangely nervous she felt! Her stomach was making flips as she turned around. 

Her father stood in the doorway, looking tanned and windswept and gorgeous, but nervous. He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure what to do, and they simply stared at each other for a moment. 

Allison thought she was prepared to confront some strong emotions, but she was nevertheless surprised at the strength of the love that surged into her heart when she saw Paul's face. The resentment and anger she'd held onto for four years was simply not there; all she felt was deep, primal joy and comfort at seeing her father. And she knew her feelings were plainly visible in her eyes. 

Paul walked over to her and she stood up to hug him.

"Allison, honey," was all he said, as he pulled her into his arms. 

She melted into his chest feeling like nothing had ever changed, like she'd never left. The warmth that had always existed between them was still there. Allison totally forgot about her mother, could not hear her silly voice, as she held onto Paul's body and inhaled his scents. He smelled like only her father smelled.

He pulled back to look at her, smiling. "I'm glad you're back."

Allison smiled into his eyes. "I am, too." And she meant it.

+++

A few days later, Paul knocked on her door early in the morning, clad in his running gear. 

Allison answered and he smiled at her. "Ready?"

She couldn't help grinning. How many times had they done this? Ever since she was about 13, the weekend jog at the crack of dawn had been their ritual, just the two of them. It was almost—almost—as if nothing had changed, except for the fact that there had been four years of estrangement between them. That hung in the air, unspoken and unaddressed, as they started out.

He gestured when they got to the door, "Lead the way."

Allison headed down the dirt path that took them through a heavy forest of pine trees. They both really loved running—the muscles heating up and kicking up into gear as they found a rhythm, and the almost instant high of released endorphins. Once they got going, they could go for hours. Running was a special bond, a shared love. They didn't talk much but just enjoyed the total immersion of their bodies into intense physical activity. Allison drank in the blended smells of the pine trees with the nearby ocean scents as she ran. It wasn't until she inhaled them that she truly felt like she was home. 

When the path opened out onto the beach and they headed towards the shoreline, Paul pulled alongside Allison. The gorgeous, deep emerald blue ocean of Long Island Sound filled the horizon.

"You missed this, didn't you?" he yelled over the surf. 

She knew what he meant, but she pretended otherwise. "The beach?" she yelled back.

"I meant this," he said, "Us."

"Sometimes," Allison replied. "When I wasn't hating you." 

"You could have come home more, you know."

"I didn't want to," she said through her panting breath. "I didn't want to see you."

"I know," he said, "but it would have been nice to visit your family once in a while, don't you think?"

She glanced at him and said, "I had my reasons. You know I did," before sprinting to get far ahead of him.

Paul was both annoyed and amused. He ran to catch up with her.

"Would you slow down?" he yelled.

"What, can't keep up with me?" she laughed as her long hair flew in the wind. 

"Oh is that how you want it?" he said, surging ahead until she trailed far behind. He turned around, opening his arms. "Well? You going to let an old man beat you?" He pretended to jog slowly in place.

"You suck," she said, trying to catch her breath. "You've had way more practice than me."

"What, they don't have places to run in Wisconsin?" he demanded as they kept up a fast pace together.

"It's not as fun."

"Oh, so you did miss me!"

"Maybe."

They took off and ran for a few miles before heading back.

"Come on, I'll race you back to the dock."

"God that felt good!" Paul said a few minutes later. Allison was flat on her back on a sand dune, flushed and panting. Paul was sitting up next to her with his knees bent, looking out at the ocean. They were quiet for a while until he spoke.

"So what 'reasons'?" he asked. "Why did you stay away?" 

Allison sat up on her elbows, watching him from the side contemplating what to say. It was the first time they'd ever come near talking about her "discovery," and she felt very conflicted. A part of her, the 16 year old, was still aching in pain. That part wanted to burst into tears and yell at him and punch the shit out of him. The other part, the adult, was looking at her father and noticing how good-looking he was, how handsome and what a fantastic body he had, while entertaining ideas about his "secret." She was actually checking him out as her mind wandered to images of him with sexy lingerie-clad call girls, or perhaps another married woman. Her mind filled with questions that had long been there, but only now came flooding into her consciousness. Where did they meet? In hotels? At his apartment in DC? Did her mother know? Was he ever in love, or was it just sex? What kind of sex did he like . . .? 

Allison felt her leg moving towards him until her sneaker-clad foot was just touching his thigh. She hadn't intended to, it just seemed to happen of its own accord. She let her foot rest against him even more, till she could feel his thigh muscle on her ankle. 

"I was upset," she finally replied.

Paul felt her touching him. He let his left hand brush her ankle and stay there but he continued to gaze out into the ocean.

"I gathered that. Do you want to talk about it?"

Allison could not speak. She was absolutely frozen.

"Do you want to tell me, or do you want me to guess?"

Again she stayed silent. Such strange excitement was building in her body she didn't trust herself to say anything.

"Ok, then, I guess that you overheard me talking to one of my lovers, or otherwise figured it out," he said.

"His lovers." The words shot through her body, straight to her breasts and into her nipples, making them ache with pleasure. What was happening to her?! The thought of her father with other women was so incredibly exciting. 

She finally managed to speak. "You're right. I overheard you talking on the phone one day, in your study."

"Ah," Paul said, as if a mystery had finally been solved. So Iris had been right all along. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

He was damned glad they weren't facing each other, and he could continue to look out at the ocean. This was awkward. He'd thought about this moment, how he would handle it if it ever came up. He thought he'd do his best to explain, to justify himself, to apologize for hurting her. Instead all he could think about was the pressure of her foot on his leg, her nearness, and the way his heart was suddenly pounding so hard and fast in his chest. Paul was not ashamed of himself. He and his wife had worked this all out a long time ago. But talking to his daughter about it—to his Allison—was making him unaccountably self-conscious. He waited for her to speak.

"Dad, it's ok. I was . . . upset. For a long time. But I'm not anymore." 

"OK," Paul hesitated, not sure how to respond. "What changed your mind?"

"Being with Jeremy. Getting a boyfriend."

"Jeremy. This is the guy you've been seeing?" Paul vaguely remembered her mentioning him. "What does Jeremy do again?"

Allison rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "I told you. He was my Poli Sci Professor. I live with him—or did, until I left."

"A professor. And how old is he?" Paul demanded, surprised at the anger welling up in him. 

"I've told you all about him. He's almost 40. We've been together two years."

"Uh huh." He couldn't remember a single thing. "And where is he now?"

"He's in France, doing research for a book." Allison was dying to ask him more questions about his lovers, but here he was grilling her about hers!

"What's it about?" Paul wanted to know.

"I don't know. France. Politics. He does all that historical stuff."

Paul was picturing a lecherous old guy hitting on naïve coeds. Some snot-nosed intellectual who'd never stepped foot off a campus. 

"What's a professor doing dating a student! What, did he come onto you in office hours? Talking about your 'papers?'"

Allison let it slide. "You're judging me?"

"It's different, Allison. Your mother and I have . . .no, you're right. I'm sorry. I was out of line. What do you say we go in?"

Paul stood up suddenly, extremely embarrassed with himself. She was right. He was certainly in no position to judge. He turned around to help her up, holding her hand, when she slipped and fell into him. 

"Oh, watch it, hon!" he exclaimed.

"Oh! Sorry, Daddy," Allison said, reverting to her "old" name for him. 

Paul held onto her for just a minute, gazing into the deep blue eyes which were so like his own. Was he really only noticing now how beautiful she had become? Her body felt so incredible against him. Too nice. He pulled away from her as if she was made of molten fire, holding up his hands. Allison saw the gesture, and understood. Something different—something warm and electric—had passed from her body to his. She, too, instinctively pulled away from it and averted her eyes, but he stilled her for a moment. 

"Allison, I think we should continue this conversation. Later."




The Politician's Daughter Ch. 01



"Ok, if you want. . ."

"I do. I'd like to explain, if you'd let me."

"Fine." She just wanted to get away for the time being. "Let me see what Mom's getting up to."

+++

The Austin estate was in Belle Haven, one of the most exclusive areas of Greenwich, Ct. It was huge, with a pool, horse stables, and tennis courts. It was in a neighborhood with many other political figures and families, including several senators, who liked the exclusivity as well as the proximity to both New York and DC. It was a luxurious existence mostly paid for by the Rhysdale side of the family. Allison certainly enjoyed the advantages when she was home, but she never felt truly part of it. Paul, in contrast, had grown up in a lower middle class suburb of Boston, and she'd always felt closer to him for that reason. Like him, she wanted to go into politics and really wanted nothing to do with her mother's privileged life. 

Allison's best friend from high school was from the "other" side of the tracks. She'd met Sarah when they were both sophomores at an expensive private school that Sarah attended on scholarship. Allison had been attracted to Sarah's bubbly personality from the moment she'd met her. They'd quickly become very close and had kept in contact all through their college years. Sarah was just finishing up a pre-Med degree and was home for the summer as well. 

A week or so after returning they were hanging out on the beach near Allison's house, taking advantage of the first really sunny and warm day to swim and lay out, though only Allison wore a swimsuit. Sarah kept her extremely fair skin covered up. They were laughing and chatting and catching up with their various studies and love lives.

Allison adored Sarah. She was so funny and outspoken, smart and adventurous. They always had some kind of drama or good time when they got together. Sarah was tiny and petite, with big jiggly boobs and a huge mass of red curls. Men just went crazy for her. At the moment they were reminiscing about how they used to sneak into bars as teenagers using Sarah's boobs to distract the bouncers.

"Oh my god! That was hysterical!" Allison was laughing. "They'd take one look at you and just wave us in! We were 16!"

"Remember those sailors?" Sarah recalled a particular wild evening when they encountered two gorgeous guys who'd just gotten in from being at sea for eight months.

"Mmmmm . . .," Allison sighed. "Oh yes."

"So hey, you want to go out tonight?" Sarah asked her.

"Hmm . . . maybe. The Beachcomber?"

"Yeah. You can tell me more about Jeremy."

"I don't know. I just got back. Mom probably wouldn't like it. What do you want to know?"

"Oh come on. Details. What's he like?"

Allison smiled and turned so she was lying on her side, her head propped up on one elbow. 

"He is FANTASTIC. Best sex I've ever had."

"Does he have a big cock?"

"Oh, God. It's not that. It's fine. It's him. Being with an older man. There is no comparison, I'm telling you." 

"What's so special about it?"

"More experienced. More patient. More knowledgeable. And . . ."

"Yes . . .?"

"Well, this sounds kind of weird . . ."

"What?"

"I like being his fantasy. I mean, I'm attracted to him, of course, but I like being his hot young thing. I like being his little plaything. Fucking makes me crazy. I dress up for him. We role play a bit."

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that."

Allison laughed. "I don't know. It's kind of strange. We role play ourselves, how weird is that? Like, I'll 'pretend' to be this innocent student and he'll be 'the professor.' It's twisted."

"No it isn't."

"Who knew I would like role play? I never thought of it before. But it's so much fun oh my god."

"Oh, wait, don't tell me you wear the schoolgirl outfit."

Allison laughed. "No, never gone that far. But we have met in his office . . . I'll come in, asking him for help, telling him how brilliant he is, all wide-eyed. He'll give me 'lessons.' I don't know what it is. I love playing at being his little whore! In a nice way. I'm this slutty little girl he's teaching about life. And I know he loves it, too."

"It's so hot."

"You think? You don't think it's twisted?"

"Not at all."

Allison pondered telling Sarah about Jeremy's thoughts about her and her father. And about that strange "moment" the other day. And about some of the things she'd been thinking lately. But she was interrupted when Sarah said, "Speaking of older men . . ." 

Allison looked up. Paul was walking towards them, accompanied by another man—Senator Archer Welles. He lived right down the street in the same complex. She'd known him all her life.

"Oh, Jesus," Allison said, adjusting her bikini. "Perfect."

The two men approached them as Allison frantically looked for a cover-up, but couldn't find anything. Her breasts were almost entirely exposed and her bottom was so damned tiny, just the skimpiest little patch with strings. 

"Ladies," Paul nodded, as they came up close. "Getting in some sun?"

"Hi, Daddy. You remember Sarah."

"Of course. How are you?" Paul said. "I heard you're headed for Med School in the fall. That's fantastic."

Sarah blushed. Paul always made her nervous. She'd never told Allison how damned attractive she found him.

"Sarah I don't think you know Senator Welles. Sarah's an old friend of Allison's."

Archer shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. So, Allison, you getting excited for the new job? I think you'll make a great addition to the team. Looking forward to it." Allison would be working in an office pool for several different Senators, including him. 

"Yes! I am!" Allison turned bright red. Senator Welles was the most "eligible" bachelor on Capitol Hill and a notorious womanizer. He was making no secret of staring at her body, right in front of her father. His eyes flickered down to her hips and up to her breasts, and she saw Paul take note of it. Without quite knowing why, she flashed Archer a big smile and relaxed her legs a bit from their stiff position. 

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

Paul took hold of Archer's elbow and firmly steered him away. "Yes, I think Allison has a bright future ahead of her. Ok well we'll let you two catch up. Have a good day."

Sarah stared open-mouthed at them as they left. 

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?!"

"Yes I did." 

"Well, I don't blame him. Look at you."

"He certainly is cute, isn't he?"

"What about Jeremy?" Sarah asked, looking at her.

"Oh it's just a little flirting. I don't mean anything by it. Everyone knows what he's like."

The truth was, Allison couldn't care less about Senator Welles. That little exchange had been entirely for the benefit of her father. She felt a strange sort of satisfaction flirting with one of his colleagues, right in front of him. The thought of Paul's "lovers" was never that far from her mind. She thought she was ok with it, but now she was discovering perhaps not. There was anger inside of her—a deep pool of anger that had flashed out in the open for a brief second, along with a desire to hurt him. What she didn't quite understand was how she knew, without any doubt, that it would hurt him. That he would take careful note of the way Archer had stared at her breasts. She only wished now she'd pushed them out farther. What was going on with her??

"Hey, let's do it," she said, turning towards Sarah. "Let's go out and have some fun, just like old times. Why not? I'm in the mood to get dressed up."

+++

Paul sat in the living room doing some work that night, or at least, trying to read a brief one of his aides had prepared for him. But his mind was elsewhere. 

Allison had said goodbye on her way out, waving from the door. She had looked phenomenal in a hot pink tank top and shorts, with her long dark hair flowing down in pretty waves and make-up done perfectly. Nice and tasteful, but beautiful. It had made him even more unaccountably angry. What was wrong with him?

He'd wanted to punch Archer today. Just flatten him. Punch him in the jaw as hard as he could and tell him to stop ogling his daughter. Allison, in that goddamned white bikini! He could not get the picture out of his mind. Images of her soft breasts and perfect curving hips and flat stomach kept flashing across the pages he was trying to read, and he actually found himself getting hard. As well as angry. He knew he had no right to be. She was a grown woman. She could flirt with whoever she wanted, dress how she wanted. But her beauty, and her obvious appeal to other men, both hurt and angered him. 

He needed sex, that's all. And here he was, trapped in Belle Haven, where it was absolutely out of the question. 

He simmered, thinking about that dick, Archer, and Allison working for him. He knew all about that fucker. Archer liked young interns, and prided himself on fucking every hot young Senatorial aide who came on the scene and bragging about it later. Paul had no doubt he'd be hitting on Allison. He wondered if she knew what kind of a game she'd be walking into with that job. 

And this "boyfriend" of hers. Jeremy or whatever the fuck his name was. Paul just knew he was an asshole. One of these eggheads who didn't now the first thing about the real world, the world he dealt with every single day. 

Jesus Christ! He needed to see Katie. She was his current mistress—a news producer on one of the major networks. She was 35. They'd been seeing each other for more than a year, on and off, casually. Paul prided himself on dating intelligent women with careers of their own, not naïve doe-eyed newcomers who hero-worshipped the ground he walked on. No matter what Iris liked to think, he'd never been with a call girl, escort, whatever they were called. He didn't sleep with whores, hookers, or sluts. He dated women. He had relationships. He always made his intentions and circumstances clear. These relationships were primarily for sex. That's what he wanted, that's what he needed. It's what MOST men in his position needed. But that didn't mean it had to be cheap and sordid. He wanted a friend, a lover. It could go on as long as they wanted it to. But there was no chance of anything beyond, so Paul tended to have affairs with married women or women like Katie James who were basically married to their jobs and weren't looking for a husband. And, they had to be sexually compatible. Sometimes that took some time to find out.

Paul seethed, thinking about the cheap charisma and charm of a bullshit artist like Archer Welles. Like this guy knew anything about sex. He was most definitely the "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" type looking for a quick fix, another notch for his gigantic ego. He just liked getting his rocks off in some sweet young pussy. He knew someone like Archer had no taste for the nuances and creativity of sex, as he did. He loved sex. Not just the act, but everything about it. The game, the seduction, the fantasy. It was never just fucking with him. Paul liked discovering the fantasies of his lovers, and exploring his own. He liked . . . oh shit, oh so many things. 

Damn it he needed to see Katie. It was looking like he'd have to schedule an "important" meeting in DC for the following weekend. Ah, he'd see. But at least, he'd successfully managed to drag his thoughts away from Allison. He even managed to get down to work.

A few hours later, after Iris had gone up to bed, Paul was awoken from a light doze by a sort of crashing sound, and giggling. He heard someone saying "Whoops! Shhhh!"

Allison.

He got up and walked into the kitchen, which connected to the side door entrance. She was there, obviously very tipsy, and trying to fix some pots that had fallen on the floor.

"Hey," he said, coming over to her. "That's ok, honey, I'll get this. Why don't you go up to bed?"

"Daddy!" Allison crooned as she instantly hugged him tight, and pushed her entire body against his. She was way more than just tipsy.

"Ok, Ohhh Kay," Paul said, trying to remove her arms from around his neck. "You're tired, honey. You need to get in bed."

"Oh, alone, Daddy?" Allison said, as she clung to him and pushed her breasts into his chest.

"Honey, let's get you into bed. Ok, come on," Paul said, helping her upstairs. "Let's go." Paul got her on her bed, where she crashed and instantly fell asleep.

+++

The next morning, Allison woke with a terrible hangover, and called Jeremy first thing. She needed to talk to him.

"Hi, hon. Can you hear me ok?"

"Allison? Honey? Are you all right? I thought we weren't supposed to talk until tonight."

"I know, I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Well that's great, babe, but it's late here and I was just getting to bed."

"That's ok. How are things?"

"Fine. Busy. You know. Not very exciting. Spending every day in the library. Is everything all right there? Has Dad groped you yet?"

"Ha ha. No. Things are great. I just needed to hear your voice. You're still planning on coming back, right? For the wedding?"

"Yes, of course. Have my ticket all booked. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine. I'll let you sleep. I love you."

"I love you, too. We'll talk soon."

"All right. Goodbye."

Allison groaned and burrowed down into the covers. She vaguely recalled the scene from last night. Had she said something to Paul? She knew she'd called him "Daddy" and hugged him. Oh, God!

She got up and popped some headache pills, took a shower and tried to look presentable. It was Sunday. Sunday morning was always family time in the Austin house. Her brothers were finally home and she knew they'd be downstairs. Good. As long as she didn't have to see Paul alone, she could handle it.

"Morning," she said, walking into the kitchen nook where they were already sitting down. Paul avoided her eyes. She walked over and kissed each brother on the cheek. "Nice to see you, finally. And Mom." She kissed Iris, too. "I hope I didn't wake you up last night."

"No, honey, not at all. We're just having breakfast."

Allison poured herself some coffee, her head still pounding. Thankfully, Paul started grilling her brothers about their plans for the summer, while Iris fussed over them. It wasn't until all the dishes were getting cleared away that Paul stood up to go. He leaned down as he passed her and said quietly, "We need to talk."

Allison nodded imperceptibly, continuing to sip her coffee. 

"What do you say, do you want to go out on the boat this afternoon, Allison?" he said, loud enough that everyone could hear.

"Sure."

That afternoon, she met him down on the docks, still drinking coffee but feeling much better. Her head wasn't aching as much, but she was tired. 

"You want to help me with this?" Paul asked, as he tied some ropes. 

Allison grumbled, and put down her coffee. 

But as they worked on prepping the huge sailboat, she began to feel better. Along with running, sailing was one of their "special" things they did together—or had—since no one else in the family liked to do it. Growing up, she'd spent many long afternoons with Paul on the boat talking and laughing and having fun, just the two of them. It felt nice to work quietly alongside him. She was surprised to see how she remembered all the things they had to do. 

He smiled at her. "Ah, it's all coming back, isn't it?"

Allison smiled back at him. There were a few more wrinkles and a lot more gray, but she could almost feel like she was back in time with her Daddy. Her visits over the years had been so short, usually only a quick trip during Christmas. Summers she stayed with friends or traveled, and then the past two she'd spent with Jeremy. But here she was now with Paul under the brilliant blue summer sky, heading out onto the ocean, as they had done so many summers of her life. She knew he was remembering the same thing as they hoisted the sail and set off. 

She took her old seat next to him at the controls as he steered the wheel. 

"So have you given any thought to what you'll do after next year?" he asked.

Her job was only a year-long stint. She'd accepted it mainly because she wasn't sure what else to do, but she had been thinking about it.

"Well, I thought I might go to law school."

"Really?" Paul asked, surprised. "Why is that?"

"Well you know I want to work in DC. But I think I'd rather go into the policy side of things. You know, one of those think tanks."

"You?" he asked. "Huh. I always thought you'd want to run for office. You could, you know." 

"What, and trade in on the Austin name?"

"No, I just think you'd be very good at it."

"Why is that?"

"You're a passionate person, Allison. That's the most important thing."

"Passionate. You make it sound like a good thing. Most people just tell me I'm 'intense.'"

"Yes, you are that. And that's exactly what will make you a good politician."

"Like you?"

"Yes. I think we're alike in that way, don't you?"

She looked at him. "Yes, I think we are."

"You're intense. You're driven. You're emotional. I think you'd be happier in front of the camera."

"Maybe. . ." 

Allison was dying to bring up their "conversation" of the other day. She wanted to know so much more, but wasn't sure how to ask.

"Oh, this is beautiful, isn't it?" Paul yelled as the boat plowed into open water. "Come here, baby." 

Allison stood and got in front of him and put her hands on the wheel, like she used to do. Paul stood close behind with his arms on either side, his mouth near her neck as he helped her guide it. 

"Easy, easy, gently. . . there you go."

Allison felt her body responding to his nearness. It was very odd. It was as if they had stepped back in time . . . except for this. Now she was so incredibly aware of his arms and the pressure of his chest on her back and his breath in her ear. His big hands were so tanned and muscular and masculine . . . he had the hands of a sailor who knew how to handle a craft, not a politician. She looked at them, picturing them running over a woman's breasts . . . her breasts. She caught her breath. He was inches away from her. 

Standing behind her, Paul was having similar thoughts come unbidden and unwelcome into his head. He was too close to her beautiful skin and perfect ass. It was like old times, but . . . he could no longer deny he was noticing her attractiveness now. It had been a long time, and she wasn't 16 years old. She had turned into such a beautiful, poised young woman. 

"Here, let me take over, honey," he said. He needed her to sit down, further away from him.

He slowed down and let the boat idle. Suddenly it got very quiet. Allison was standing, leaning back on a railing, looking at him.

"Allison, about our conversation the other day . . . I want to explain something to you. I didn't get the chance."

"All right."

"I think you should know, regarding what we talked about, that your mother and I have an understanding about it. We always have. She knows that I have . . . another life, a private life. She may have one of her own. I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did, but I want you to know I'm not 'betraying' her or 'cheating' on her. Not in the usual sense."

"I know," Allison said. 

"You know? How long have you known?"

Allison thought about it. "I think I always have. When I found out about . . . you . . . it just kind of made it more obvious. It's not like you and Mom are all warm and fuzzy, Dad. I get it."

"So you don't blame me?"

"No. In fact, just the opposite."

"What do you mean?" Paul asked.

Allison was leaning back on the railing, gazing at him, letting herself feel her attraction to him, letting warmth spread into her body. He was so handsome. 

She said, "I told you that getting a boyfriend changed things for me . . ."

"Yeah, how so?" Paul said. 

"Well, I learned how much I enjoy sex, to be perfectly honest."




The Politician's Daughter Ch. 02



Author's Note. All characters are over 18.

+++

Paul fled to DC that afternoon, without even saying goodbye. The next time Allison saw him wasn't even in person, but when he appeared on one of the Sunday morning talk shows. She was watching him in the den with her mother, who made a point of taping all Paul's media appearances. Iris had a large table in front of her and was happily going over the seating chart for the wedding at the same time.

"Allison, help me out here."

"Yes?"

"Look at this. I have Anderson Cooper sitting between your father and Senator Welles. I can't do that."

"Why not?" Allison asked, trying to hide her smirk.

"You know! It will seem like I'm trying to say something. About his being . . . " 

"Gay, Mom? I think it's ok. You can seat him next to two men." 

"Oh, shh, your father's on," Iris said, turning up the volume.

Allison stared at her, noting the glowing adoration on her face. God did her mother love this. She absolutely loved being the wife of a famous man. That's all that mattered to her. Allison continued to stare at her, pondering her, thinking about Jeremy and remembering their sometimes wild sex. Had her mother ever felt that? Had Iris ever screamed in pleasure and begged Paul to fuck her? Did she have any clue? Allison doubted it. Distaste for her mother rose in her throat. She was such an elitist, such a Stepford wife. She'd never had the slightest thing in common with her.

But Allison was riveted to the TV, too, and the perversity of the situation was not lost on her. She had kissed her father. She had seen his cock harden with lust for her. She had lain awake in bed contemplating having an affair with the man Iris slept next to every night, wanting to be one of his lovers. And yet she felt no guilt. All she felt was revulsion for her shallowness, and a little pity.

They both watched as Paul was introduced.

"Thank you for joining us today, Congressman."

He looked wonderful on TV. He wore an expensive dark suit with a baby blue tie that made his eyes sparkle. As she watched him, Allison forgot about her mother as she felt her attraction to Paul suddenly intensify until she was shifting in her seat, right next to Iris, squeezing her legs tightly together.

"Thank you for having me, Jon. Always a pleasure."

As she listened to him, Allison was recalling the feel of his lips and the brief excitement of having his tongue in her mouth, and the sight of the hard-on he was unable to hide. The more he talked, the more she let her mind open up to more explicit fantasies, until it wandered to thoughts of taking his cock in her mouth. 

"Now, about the President's economic plan. Can you tell us, Congressman, how the votes are lining up in the House?"

"Well, first, Jon, let me just say that my colleagues and I have been working very hard on this, and . . ."

Allison couldn't take any more. She said "Excuse me," and fled up to her room and locked the door. She tore off her shorts and panties and got down on the bed, her hips high in the air and her face burrowed into the bedspread. Oh God, she was soaking wet. 

She barely had to touch herself before she came incredibly hard, her head thrust into the bed, gasping and shuddering over and over. She kept touching herself as she pictured pulling down Paul's jogging shorts and freeing the massive erection she had seen the other day. She held her hips wide, spread her legs, and imagined him kneeling between them and fucking her hard, just like Jeremy used to. She rocked herself to another quick, easy climax until she collapsed, shaken and overwhelmed. She couldn't catch her breath. She could only think how badly she wanted another orgasm, and how badly she wanted Paul, not Jeremy, to give it to her. 

Allison lay panting on her stomach, trying to calm down, stunned by the intensity of her feelings. She bit the pillow and rocked back and forth. She had NEVER come that fast in her life. Jesus, what was going on? 

She could only think it was seeing him on TV. Seeing him so intelligent and completely controlled, while knowing what she knew.

She trembled remembering his angry words. This CANNOT happen.

Dad . . . she whispered to him into her pillow with her eyes shut tight. What do you know that I don't? She felt sure Paul had more experience; that he knew better than she what they could possibly be starting with each other. Why else would he resist it so strenuously?

The words she had heard long ago echoed in her head. They were engraved into her mind, and seemed to erupt in flaming script across her body.

Daddy needs to see you.

You miss me, baby girl?

God! She moaned into her childhood bed, with her mother downstairs, thinking of her father, just as she had when she was 16. She wanted him, she wanted him. Where the fuck was he?

+++

Paul stayed away the entire two weeks before the big wedding. He was slated to arrive the day of, in the morning. 

The longer he stayed away, the more Allison knew it was because he was avoiding her. He couldn't have been more obvious about it. He didn't trust himself to be in the same house with her. But he'd have to see her now, and she was looking forward to it. She was going to look spectacular. 

The only little snag was that Jeremy couldn't make it. He called her a few days before he was supposed to arrive, saying something "suddenly came up" and he couldn't make his flight. Allison was annoyed. She wanted a date. And she wanted to flirt and dance with her boyfriend right in front of Paul. 

"Well, if you can't, you can't. I understand," she said on her cell.

"I'm sorry, hon, I just can't do anything about it."

Allison was angry, but she was also feeling guilty. As she talked to him, she didn't have the heart to tell him her feelings were changing. That really, she only wanted him there so she could use him to drive her father crazy. That someone else was occupying her thoughts, instead of him. 

"Allison?" Jeremy asked over the phone. "What's going on with you?"

God, he was no dummy. He could always read her so well.

"Nothing. What do you mean?"

"Yeah. You know, perhaps it's a good thing I'm not coming back."

"Why do you say that?"

"You know! Stop lying! You're in love with your father, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Allison said, her voice breaking. 

"'You don't know.' OK, listen. I think you have some things to deal with. I'm going to let you deal with them. Call me when they're resolved. If they get resolved."

"Jeremy," Allison said, "I'm sorry, I didn't expect . . ."

"No, you didn't. But I did. So listen, call me when you've made up your mind. I have to go."

"All right," she said, hanging up. One of the pitfalls of dating an older man. He saw right through her. 

+++

The day of the wedding arrived, with all its craziness. Media trucks camped out on the street at dawn hoping to get pics of Paul Austin's oldest son and his gorgeous socialite bride; a huge canopy strung with lights and flowers covered the back lawn; friends, relatives, children, make-up and hair people, caterers and musicians overran the estate. From the minute she got up Allison was accosted by people looking for help and directions. She didn't have a clue if Paul had arrived or not.

Allison spent the afternoon holed up in her room with Sarah, getting ready. Of course she had invited her friend. She didn't think she could make it through this kind of event without her. 

Sarah looked so gorgeous, in a low cut pink dress with lots of flounces and ruffles and lace. Just the kind of feminine thing that suited her petite body and coloring. Allison, in contrast, wanted to go for dark and dramatic. She chose a midnight blue satin slip dress with spaghetti straps. The cut was very simple, but very sexy. The silky, shimmery material clung to her fit body and showed off her fantastic shoulders. She had Sarah pile her hair on top of her head and leave soft loose tendrils trailing down her neck.

She sat at her dressing table applying make-up while Sarah chatted away, although she was a little uncomfortable with her choice of conversation. 

"Maybe I can sneak in a dance with your father tonight."

"Oh?" Allison glanced at her. "You'd like that?"

"God yes. Your Dad is so sexy. And, well . . ."

"What?"

"You know. I know you know. I mean, everyone knows that he and Iris don't exactly get along."

Allison rolled her eyes as she put on lipstick. "You mean Stepford wife?"

"Would it bother you? I'm not saying I want an affair with him or anything! I just want to dance with Paul Austin."

"How much do people know?" Allison asked.

"Well I don't think it's a secret he's been seeing this woman in DC. A news producer, something like that."

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"Hanging out at bars. People talk."

Allison furiously tossed her mascara on the table. She wasn't mad at her friend, but at the idea of being one of "Paul Austin's" groupies—one of his eager little sluts. She was angry that he hadn't said hello to her today, and had completely ignored her for two weeks. The last thing she wanted was to be some weepy, clingy girl waiting around for him to notice her. And he had SAID he did not have a lover at the moment. So he'd lied. He'd probably been seeing her—fucking her—these past two weeks. He'd probably gone straight from kissing her to his mistress!

"Come on, I'm ready," she said to Sarah. "Let's go get a drink. I need one."

Allison was pleasantly buzzed by the time the actual ceremony finally came around. In the few hours she'd spent with Sarah she hadn't seen Paul once, not until the moment he walked Iris to her seat right in front of her. By that time she was fuming. There they were, one of Washington's most beautiful and glamourous couples, the proud parents. Her mother had never looked so stunning, and Paul as well in a glorious tux. He merely glanced in her direction when he sat down. 

Allison watched the back of his head through the whole ceremony, noting the way his salt and pepper hair curled at the nape of his neck in the heat. She fought back a desire to just lean over and whisper something in his ear as rage quickly started to simmer within her. He made her sick, they both did. Why the hell had she come home? She saw now she'd been a complete idiot. She should have done what Jeremy wanted and gone with him to France. But no, she had come back here and run after her father. And now she'd fucked things up with Jeremy. She decided she'd call him the minute she could, maybe even try to get a flight to France. This had all been a big mistake.

Her anger continued to grow through all the family picture-taking. Her smile was frozen in place trying to pretend to be part of the happy Austin clan, when she couldn't wait to just get away. She tensed up when Paul placed his hand around her waist in the group shots. He still hadn't said a word to her. 

Pretty soon the reception was swinging. She sat with Sarah downing one glass of wine after the other. It was too bad she was in such a foul mood, because it was a beautiful, perfect night. The ocean in the distance reflected the moon, twinkling lights and stars, and the canopied tent was decorated with roses and gardenias giving off a lush, musky scent. Everyone looked gorgeous. Iris really had gone all out.

She was just downing yet another glass of wine when she felt a hand on her back. A man's big, warm, strong hand on her lower back, low enough where he could feel the crack of her ass. 

Despite herself, Allison smiled. She felt her resolve instantly flying out the window and her whole being alight with pleasure. She turned quickly around with a huge smile on her face. But then she stopped abruptly and said, "Oh!"

It was Senator Welles. 

"Allison. I was hoping I'd see you tonight." 

Allison instantly glanced around and saw that Paul was watching them. He was standing with some of his cronies, accepting their congratulations, but she could tell his eyes were on her. 

She flashed Archer a huge smile, touched his arm, and gazed directly into his eyes.

"Nice to see you, Senator."

"Alone tonight? I thought I heard you had a boyfriend."

"We broke up," Allison said, flatly. 

"Oh. Too bad. Can I get you a drink?"

"Yes," she beamed at him. "Something strong."

"Coming up," Archer said, delighted at the way she was looking at him.

As soon as he left to get their drinks, Paul came right over.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

It was the first thing he'd said to her in two weeks. Allison felt nothing but rage at him. 

"What does it look like? Having a good time."

"With Archer Welles?"

"Yeah, so? I'm not fucking him."

"Shh! Keep your voice down!"

"How was DC, Dad? Did you have a good time?"

"Allison . . ." he warned.

"Were you alone? Or were you with your whore—she's a news producer, right?"

He scoffed, and looked at her. "You're drunk. And you've been talking to your mother, haven't you?"

"Nice dodge."

"I can't talk to you now."

"Oh so you were planning on talking to me. How nice of you."

"Yes, I was, but this is neither the time nor the place."

"You're right about that. Well you don't have to worry, because I'm leaving. I should never have come back."

"Leaving? Where?"

"I'm going to Paris to be with Jeremy. As soon as I can. Oooh, there's Mom! Better go get your photo op!"

Allison brushed past him and made her way back to Archer. "Thank you! Perfect! You want to dance?"

Allison took a tiny sip of her drink and immediately dragged Archer onto the dance floor. In full view of Paul, she draped herself tightly against the handsome blond Senator and put her arms around his neck, gazing at him seductively. A slow song was playing, and she made the most of the opportunity to have him hold her. She felt his hands move down lower until they were practically cupping her ass. Her breasts were mashed against his chest. She could see Paul, sitting down, watching them with open hostility on his face. Good.

When the song was over, she led Archer by the hand to a secluded little spot right near Paul. She knew he was in earshot.

Archer was simply enchanted with her dark beauty. He wound his fingers around one of the long brown tendrils of her hair, and played with her earrings as he leaned far forward towards her, his arm around the back of her chair. 

"I like your earrings. They're very . . . sparkly," he said, making her laugh.

"Oh, thank you. They were a gift from my father."

"Oh? Well he has nice taste."

"Yes, he does," Allison said pointedly and loudly. 

"And you smell so good . . . what is that scent?"

"Oh just something my boyfriend gave me."

"Mmmm. . . it's extremely enticing."

"So Senator, do you own a house in DC, or just rent an apartment when you're down there?"

"I have an apartment. When you get down there I'd be happy to show you around—the city, I mean," he laughed. "DC can be pretty daunting at first. I know all the best places."

She gave him her best sexy smile. "I'd love that."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Paul get up and walk angrily back into the house. 

"Hmmm, so would I," Archer said, his mouth so close to hers. God he would love to fuck Paul Austin's sexy daughter. His gaze traveled down her perfect body, noticing her full breasts and smooth tanned skin. 

But Allison had lost her interest in the horny Senator. "Oh! I see my friend. Would you excuse me?"

She got up and fled across the dance floor to find Sarah, who was standing alone. 

"Hey! How's it going?" 

"There you are! What happened to you?"

"Oh, just talking to people. You having fun?"

"Yes. But I'm tired from dancing. You want to sit down?"

They sat and drank and chatted for a little while, until it came time for the official dances. Allison watched Paul dance with his new daughter, then Iris, as people clapped and oohed and aahed. But then her mother came right over and pulled her up from her seat, insisting she dance with her father. That was the last thing Allison wanted. Would this night never be over?

It was incredibly awkward as the music came on and Paul drew her by the waist towards him. They were the only people on the dance floor and she felt like they were under a spotlight. As he drew her close, she suddenly felt weak, and a surge of that old pain. She couldn't deny how good it felt to be in his arms. She felt deeply, more than she ever had, how much she had missed him in the past four years. What a mess. What an absolute mess. She fought off tears as she wondered, was she to be forever deprived of her love for him? It was the most powerful, dominant force of her life. It felt so good to give in to it, but it was mixed with so much pain. Part of her wanted to turn back time and pretend nothing in the past five years had happened, and just go back to how it used to be when he was the unquestioned center of her existence. But there was no going back, for her. Her love was inseparable from her attraction to him and where they were now. 

"Are you really thinking of leaving?" he said in a low voice.

"Yes," Allison tried to say, but her voice was getting muffled by the tears welling in her throat and eyes. 

"Hey," Paul said, noticing her distress. 

"I think I have to," Allison said, praying that no one else could see the tears threatening to spill out all over her face. 

She was really about to have a little fit. She felt uncontrollable sobs welling up in her chest. Was she being selfish? Was she so vindictive that she was willing to cut her love for him out of her heart simply because she couldn't have him? And yet the alternative was just as bad—to want him and know that he was rejecting her. Meanwhile, she had totally screwed up with a wonderful man who did love her. And yet she knew, now, she could not honestly give her whole heart to Jeremy. Could she ever truly give herself to another man with her father in her life, or was she just totally fucked? 

And what if she was simply wrong—what if she was nothing but a pathetic, hysterical little girl with a crush on Dad?

It was too much. Thank god the song was almost over. The second it ended she pushed Paul away from her, taking the picture of his stricken face with her as she ran out of the reception tent and towards the beach. She had to get away from him!

She lifted up her dress, kicked off her shoes, and ran as fast as she could, through the woods and down to the beach. Waves were crashing on the shore. As soon as she stopped she gave in to the violent sobs tearing out of her chest and throat. She was bent over, crying and shaking, when she heard Paul calling for her.

"Allison!" 

Oh, no. He was running towards her. She did not want to see him. She keep running, but he was too fast for her, even in his ridiculous tux. 

"Allison, please! Stop!"

He finally got to her. She knew her make-up was all smudged and she tried to clean off her face, but she could not stop crying. She hiccoughed, and could not catch her breath at the same time. A cold wind was blowing off the ocean flattening her thin silk dress against her body and she started shivering. Paul took his coat off and wrapped it around her and then she just collapsed in his arms, nestling into his warm chest as he tried to soothe her. 

"Shh, shh" he said, as she wrapped her arms around his chest. She kept making ridiculous squeaks as he held her, stroking her hair, and she wet his beautiful white dress shirt with her tears. She sobbed into his clothes, which smelled of him—the most delicious, comforting smell in the world, evoking the most painful and powerful memories in her body. She cried and inhaled him at the same time. 

He smelled so good. 

He smelled . . . like sex. 

She unconsciously turned her face towards his as he stroked her hair and wiped her cheeks, turning towards him as naturally as a fragile plant seeking the hot, life-giving sun.




The Politician's Daughter Ch. 02



"Daddy," she whispered, as she kissed him, lightly touching his lips at first, tentatively, and then harder and harder. 

Paul didn't resist her this time. He bent her head back and crushed her mouth with his, opening it with hot lips and strong, deliberate kisses. Her arms circled his shoulders and she brought her hand up to the back of his head, sinking her fingers in his hair. Their tongues swirled together, licking and sucking with pure lust, until she was moaning and gasping and rubbing her breasts on his chest. Paul grasped her silky hair until it came tumbling down over her shoulders. She melted into him. It was so perfect. He was shaking as her kissed her, giving in to his obvious need and desire as he caressed her whole body and devoured her lips. Whatever he might say, Allison knew he was not faking this, and that he could not deny the simple truth of this passion. It was better than she had ever imagined. 

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to slip her hand down the front of trousers and seek his cock, which was pushing and pressing into her stomach. But just as her trembling hand found it, he moaned and grabbed her hand with his, drawing it away. With a great effort he took his mouth off hers.

"Do you see, do you see now why I stayed away from you?" Paul demanded. He was shaking—she couldn't tell if it was from anger or lust. He was clearly going through a terrible struggle. He pulled back and once again started pacing, and shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Allison said. He was talking as if this was a reason to stop, and she didn't understand. How could he experience this and not see it as a reason to keep going? How could he possibly deny it?

But she could see the answer in his eyes—refusal, reluctance, and resignation. Her heart dropped in her chest and she knew what was coming. Oh no. Ohhhh no. Not again. Not when she knew, now, what had to happen.

"You know what I'm saying. We cannot make love, Allison."

She wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear his explanation.

"Why not?" she said, looking at him calmly. 

"Why not?" he asked, incredulously, like it wasn't obvious.

"Yes, I want to hear your answer."

He started to get mad. "Why not? Because of who I am, Allison, why do you think?"

"And who's that?" she asked quietly, though she was totally disgusted at his answer.

"What the fuck do you think it was like for me down in DC these past two weeks—knowing I had these feelings for you while trying to do my goddamned job? I am a United States Congressman, a famous man, and a very powerful one at that! People look up to me, vote for me. I'm on the Ethics Committee for God's sake," he spat out. 

"Is it not clear that I cannot have an incestuous relationship with my daughter? What part of that do you not understand?"

Oh she was so fucking mad!

She was absolutely seething, just . . . seething.

"You coward," she yelled over the crashing surf. "You hypocrite. You selfish ass. I wanted to hear your rationale, your explanation. And you know what—if you had said, we just can't, it's morally wrong or something simple like that, I would have been able to take that. But that's not what you said at all, is it?"

He stared at her, incredulous, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

She continued. "It's all because you want to preserve this . . . this . . . perfect image you have of yourself. 'I cannot.' 'I'm a powerful man.' It's all about you, with your perfect wife and your perfect career and your perfect TV image. And you and I both know the marriage is bullshit, the media crap is bullshit and the political stuff is bullshit. But you like it. It's worked so well for you. You want this lying two- faced hypocritical life while promising the world to people and pretending to be so goddamned good."

"And the thing that makes me so sick, is that I thought you were different. I thought you and I were different. Isn't that what you told me? That you understood me because you understood passion, that's what you are, that's what your whole political life is about. That's what you and I have always understood about each other. And now, you're admitting that it's total crap. It's just a lot of cheap charm you use to sell a load of shit to gullible people, isn't it, just like Archer Welles?"

"It's like your marriage, isn't it, Dad? An image, with no reality. That's exactly what you are."

Allison turned to go. She had had enough. She was glad he'd shown his true colors, because it made it that much easier to walk away.

But Paul grabbed her, and spun her around to face him and stop her from leaving. 

"What do you want? Do you want me to fuck you right here and now, because I don't see where else this is headed! Do you even know? I am an experienced man, Allison, a very experienced man. Is that really what you want?"

"NO!" she screamed. "The last thing I want is to be one of your whores!"

Paul openly laughed at her as he took in her incredibly sexy dress and her near nakedness in the wind. "Oh really? Then why are you acting like one? What was that with the Senator up there?"

"Oh!" Allison cried out, "Oh, you asshole! You fucking asshole!"

She reached up her hand to slap him but Paul caught it and turned her around, holding her arms tight around her chest with his.

"Shh. . . shh . . . you're beautiful, you're beautiful. Shh . . ."

Allison struggled in his arms to get away but he held her tight, shushing her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. . . won't you calm down?"

And then suddenly his voice turned sweet and seductive, and she felt his cock pushing deliberately and unmistakably into the cheeks of her ass. 

He held her and caressed her, his lips grazing her neck. "Tomorrow. Meet me tomorrow. At the docks."

Allison nodded her head, so aroused she could not speak.

"Do you promise, darling? We'll take the boat out, just us. Allison?"

"Yes," she whispered huskily. "Yes I'll meet you."

And they walked slowly back to the party.

+++ 

The next day, every second until she saw him seemed like an eternity. It was a long, busy morning, cleaning up from the wedding and saying goodbye to relatives. Paul played the attentive host, as expected, until he found her alone for a second in the kitchen and whispered to be down at the docks in an hour.

Allison sped upstairs to get ready. She had no doubt whatsoever what was going to happen, and she was so nervous and excited she could barely think. She changed into a simple dress, brushed her hair and put on make-up, and headed down to the beach. He was there, waiting for her. It was a beautiful, sunny day.

He didn't say anything, just touched her arm while glancing up towards the house. Then he helped her onto the boat.

When they were finally out in clear, open water, he tossed the anchor and drew her over to the side, so he was standing in front of her as she leaned back against the railing. Her hands went to his waist as Paul took her face in his hands, one warm, strong palm on either cheek, and his thumbs framing and lightly caressing her lips. 

Paul had to tell her, show her, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted this. He had to make up for his behavior. So he kissed her, slowly, softly, and deliberately. Allison could not mistake the meaning of this voluptuous kissing. It brought tears of relief to her eyes. He was apologizing for everything and promising even more with his lips; they travelled to her cheeks and kissed her tears, and then went back to sensuously devouring her mouth until he made her gasp.

He caressed her face, smoothing her hair back, holding her so tightly while looking into her eyes. 

"Do you know how brave you are, my darling, my lovely Allison?"

"Me?" she whispered back. 

"Yes, you," he said, between continuous kisses, on her mouth, eyes, shoulders and neck. "If you hadn't kissed me, two weeks ago, and again last night . . ."

"I thought you blamed me! Did you think I was throwing myself at you?"

"No. It was brave, and honest, and smart. I'm the one who acted like an idiot."

"I was so mean to you."

"I deserved it."

"No you didn't."

"Yes, Allison, I did," he said, moving very close to her. "You were right to call me an asshole."

She shook her head.

He took her hand and placed it on his chest. "You were right to call me a hypocrite for denying my own heart. Can you feel it? It's beating so hard, right now, being close to you."

Allison could not resist his mouth. His lips were so soft and insistent and full of need as he drew her head back and opened her mouth wider and wider. He had yet to taste her tongue, but he did now, moaning as he sucked and licked with deep erotic pleasure, as if he had all the time in the world. With her head bent back, she yielded and opened herself. Each delicious contact of their tongues affirmed and embraced the desire that had been there from the moment she returned. Everything between now and then had just been so much denial, they both knew it. Their tongues spoke the truth of passion so powerful it threatened to swamp them and send them hurtling into the ocean. 

"Oh!" Allison gasped, overwhelmed, her body literally trembling from head to toe. 

"What, baby?" Paul murmured, unable to stop tasting her. "What is it?"

Allison pushed him slightly back to look into his eyes. She held his face in her hands and smothered him with kisses. "Make love to me, please, right now!" 

After so much anger, after all their fights and attempts to hurt each other, there was nothing Paul wanted more. They could talk things out later, afterwards. He needed to get inside her. Nothing but that could heal the damage they had done to each other. 

He picked her up, right in his arms, and carried her down into the little cabin in the boat. It was perfect. There was a big queen-sized bed in the comfortable room which seemed surprisingly large. Dark wood lined the walls. The ocean was making it gently rock.

He kissed her as he carried her across the threshold like a newlywed and deposited her on the bed. Allison lay back, gazing up at him. The few minutes it took for Paul to unbuckle and unbutton his jeans seemed ridiculously long. She pulled off her panties, waiting for him, reaching for him as he came to her. He hadn't even taken his pants off. She hadn't even seen his cock. She didn't need to see it; there was nothing more important and urgent than feeling him inside her. 

"Yes, yes," she breathed, as Paul frantically reached down and spread her legs and got between them. She held the back of his head, caressing his neck and twirling her fingers in his hair. 

"Oh, God!" Paul moaned, when his hand, slithering down between her thighs, found how warm and wet she was. "Allison, baby . . ., " he groaned.

He brought his hands back up to lift himself over her, aiming his hips right between her legs, his cock hovering over her wetness. Allison spread her legs further and arched her back, reaching for him. They stared intently into each other's eyes as he sunk slowly, fully, and deeply inside. There was no need for foreplay, just this exquisite plunge.

Allison made a long loud moan as he entered her. At last he was inside her. All the pain and heartache and drama of the past month and a half, the last four years, found its natural, peaceful, perfect resolution. He was hard and throbbing deep in her belly; nothing had ever felt so right, to either of them. 

It happened so quickly. Before she even knew it, they were riding up and down in a perfect harmonious rhythm, her hips arcing up to meet his, her pussy dilating to accept his hardness, her pleasure flowing and increasing with each perfect thrust. Allison realized she had never really made love before, not even with Jeremy. Nothing she'd ever experienced approached this—the way her heart opened and expanded along with her body, the perfect unison of emotion and lust, their gasps and moans in complete sync with the rise and fall of his hips. His eyes never left hers and Allison gazed at him in wonder as each growing escalation of pleasure registered on her face. The ocean kept them in a tight, wet embrace, echoing and supporting the fluid up and down motion, as if the day, the moment, was simply made for this. 

Paul whispered. "Did you know how much I wanted to fuck you?"

"Mmmm, I wasn't sure . . . but I liked thinking that you did."

Allison smiled. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Mmmm, please, baby, . . ." 

"Watching you on TV . . . while you were away . . . made me so hot. Seeing you, being you . . ."

He smiled at her as he pushed deeper and harder. "You liked thinking about Congressman Austin?"

"Oh yes," Allison moaned. 

Just outside, up at the house, the media trucks were still camped, the relatives and powerful cronies still milling about. Magazines would be reporting on the spectacular wedding. 

Allison made the briefest glance up towards the house. "What would people say?" she smiled at him.

"They don't know. They'll never know," he whispered. 

Oh! Allison sighed, as the intensity of pleasure gathered and began to grow more urgent at the thought of the naughty thing they were doing underneath everyone's noses. 

"Harder . . ." she gently whispered. 

"Mmmmm . . ." Paul moaned as he began to fuck her faster. He whispered her name into her skin as he reached for both her hands with his and held them, drawing them first out and then upwards over her head. She wiggled her hips and widened her thighs so she could cross her legs and draw him in closer and closer. 

He held her hands and kissed her neck and then up to her mouth. It was so perfect. Their tongues touched and swirled together as he made love to her until they both felt the urgency of orgasm approaching. Paul held out for her, intent on making her pleasure last as long as he could, though he wanted nothing more than to rut into her and come. This was quick, but they were riding a wave of pent-up desire totally beyond their control.

Allison's moans grew louder, ending in sharp, desperate, increasingly fearful gasps. 

"Stay with me, stay with me," Paul said into her ear as his hands and fingers flexed tightly on hers. 

"Oh, God!" Allison gasped. She was so close! Fear, mistrust, and every single painful emotion of the summer flooded her mind and threatened to squelch the pleasure about to burst inside her. "Please!" she begged, as her legs wrapped tighter and tighter around his pistoning hips.

"Don't stop it, baby, don't stop," Paul urged her. "Let it happen," he said, as he held her tight and rammed her, desperately wanting to make her come.

"Oh my GOD!" Allison screamed as her back arched tensely and her head slammed back into the bed. She let out a long moan so full of pain Paul wondered if he was hurting her, until it changed into whimpers of unmistakable pleasure and release. 

"Yes, yes, come for me, baby," Paul crooned in her ear as continued to plow her through her spasms and moans and she flooded the sheets with her wetness. "Oh, fuck, here it comes, here it comes!"

Paul buried his face in her neck and sunk his hands into her hair, grabbing and grasping her tightly as he came, his heart pounding so hard in his chest on top of hers. "Oh honey!" he moaned and moaned as he pumped her full of his cum in long, slow, heavy bursts as she continued to spasm and contract around him. 

"Oh, shit, baby . . ." It was so good. The waves of his orgasm traveled out and into her body as he held her and held her as if not wanting to ever let go of the pleasure. 

Allison moaned as she stroked his back and held his head, until his shudders slowly died down. The ocean rocked the boat, making it sway gently up and down. It had taken all of five minutes.

A few minutes later Paul was lying next to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, one leg thrown over her body, and their hands and fingers still tightly interlaced. They hadn't even undressed fully. They calmed each other down, continually kissing and stroking and caressing. They felt utterly at peace.

Allison said quietly, "So what do we do now?"

Paul knew exactly what she was thinking. Without saying a word, he knew, as well as she, that they could not live without this.

He kissed her. "We'll figure it out. I'm good at this, remember?"

"I'll be in DC this whole next year . . ."

"Yes, you will."

Allison made a sexy sigh and hugged his arms tighter around her. A whole year . . .

Paul felt elated, thinking of the future, of the things they would do, the time they could spend together, the things he could show her, and finding out all the things he did not know about her. 

"We should get going. People will be wondering . . ."

"Ok," Allison said, starting to get up.

"Hey, hey," Paul said, pulling her back down and getting up on one arm so he could look into her eyes. He kissed her tenderly on the lips. "I'm sorry that was so quick. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She smiled, looking into his eyes. "It was perfect."

"We'll talk later . . . Ok? But we have to go, damn it . . ."

+++

Both of them lay awake in bed that night, again unable to sleep because they were thinking of the other.

Paul was thinking of the next day, and what he wanted to say to her and make clear to her. He wanted to make absolutely sure she was on the same page. He had an utter horror of hurting her, manipulating her, or taking advantage of their built-in relationship in any way. This wasn't just a one-time thing. Jesus, the sex they'd had that day had made that perfectly clear. He was the type of person that once he'd taken this step, he wasn't going to back down. He felt no regrets at all. He just wanted to be clear about some things. 

Allison . . . his mind was full of her, enthralled with her. He'd always loved her, but now he was in love with her and he knew it. He ached for her with a hard cock that wouldn't go away. He briefly entertained the idea of sneaking down to her room, but that did not appeal to him. That would be a violation of the "code" on so many levels. He let himself be satisfied with this euphoric high until he could see her tomorrow.

Allison was snuggled into bed with a huge smile on her face, remembering the perfection of how it felt when he held her. She, too, was enjoying the floating sensation of being in love, and contemplating how much things had changed in a mere twenty-four hours. He loved her. How long had he loved her, and she him? She wasn't an idiot. She didn't have any illusions about his life, and who he was. They weren't going to ride off into a romantic sunset together. She didn't want that anyway.

She wanted to talk to him. See what he thought, and find out what he wanted. She had a feeling she knew, and she hoped she was right. 

+++

The next day he knocked on her door, early, ready for a run. But he suggested something different from their normal routine. He wanted to take the car and drive a ways down the beach, pack some towels and food, and have a little picnic after their run. Paul said he knew of a secluded little cove. Clearly he wanted to spend some time alone, and that was just fine with her. She brought along a little change of clothes and they headed out.

In the car they touched and smiled at each other, but didn't talk much.

It was a very hot day, so by the end of their run they were drenched in sweat and had to take a little dip in the ocean to cool off. Allison went back to the SUV and discretely changed from her running clothes into a dress and went back to meet him. It was an isolated spot in the sand with a view of the beach but secluded enough that they didn't have to worry about anyone seeing them. 

Finally, they were alone. Allison sat up on the blanket with her hands spread behind her, and Paul was lying alongside her. It was awkward for a second until he leaned in and kissed her. He said, "I couldn't sleep last night."




The Politician's Daughter Ch. 02



"I couldn't either."

"I wanted to be alone here so we could talk . . . but also because I don't like the idea of sneaking around at home. Do you?"

Allison shook her head. "No. Creeps me out with Mom there."

Paul laughed. "I'm glad to hear that. It is a little awkward."

"It's ok," Allison said, looking at him. "I can wait." She moved her foot and stroked his calf. 

"Mmmm," Paul groaned. Her slightest touch was making him rock hard. He glanced round, then leaned down and kissed her again, with one hand on her thigh. "I have an idea . . ."

"Oh?" Allison smiled. 

"Yes. I have to be in the city all next week. The governors' convention. I'm a keynote speaker."

"You mean DC?"

"No, this is in Manhattan. I'll be busy every day, but . . . why don't you come join me for a night or two? I'm staying at the Four Seasons. You could get a car to take you in, tell your mother you're visiting friends . . ."

"Sounds perfect."

"Yes. Then we can really be together," he whispered. 

Allison was intrigued. She loved the idea.

She gazed at him, feeling her nipples harden and pleasant anticipation fill her. Instantly her mind was full of sexy scenarios— waiting for him at his hotel, thinking of what she could wear, being able to spend hours and hours with him. Finally seeing him naked. She moved her foot higher until it was stroking the back of his thigh and slightly touching his ass.

"I love it. It sounds wonderful."

"Allison . . . I want to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"What are you expecting . . . what do you want . . .?"

"To be your lover."

"Uh huh. Well, I want that, too . . . but I need you to know, my situation . . . our situation . . . can't change that much. It can't be anything more than—"

"An affair?" Allison answered for him. 

"Well, yes. That doesn't mean I don't love you. I do. But . . ." Paul felt he had to be very careful what he said, given her violent explosion the night on the beach. "We have to be very careful and very discrete. . . we can't be out in the open, I cannot risk getting caught . . ."

"I know," Allison said plainly. She did, and she needed to make him understand. She pushed him down slightly so he was lying on his back and sat up over him, looking into his eyes.

"I understand. I do. I understand the limits . . . I get it. Now there's one thing I want to ask you."

"Yes?" he said, simply entranced with her.

"Did you mean what you said before, that your affairs are primarily for sex?"

"Yes . . ."

Allison smiled and kissed him as sweetly as she could on the lips, then brought her mouth down to his ear.

"Yesterday was absolutely wonderful . . ."

"Yes?"

"I want that. Again. But I want that, too. Just sex. I want . . . "

"Yes?"

"I want you to cheat. With me. As if I wasn't your daughter. As if I were just one of those women you like to fuck. One of those—"

He interrupted her, knowing what she was about to say. "It can be anything you want . . . But I think you should know one thing."

"What?" 

He leaned up to her, and brought his mouth very close to her ear and whispered, "I don't sleep with whores. Or hookers, or call girls or escorts."

Allison pulled back to look at him. "You don't?" she said, completely shocked. "I thought all men in your position did."

He chuckled at her reaction. "Surprised?"

She stared at him, nodding. She could not help her face from showing her disappointment.

He tilted her head so he could look into her eyes. "But if that's what you want . . ."

"What if I do . . .?"

"Oh, baby, Daddy can do a lot of things for you. . . "

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course. But only if you'll be my baby girl on occasion."

They smiled at each other and then broke into laughter. They were so much alike it wasn't funny. 

"Mmmm . . ." Allison moaned as she hugged him. "I would LOVE that. So when can we really meet?"

"Next week. Friday. The last day of the convention. That way we'll have all night with no worries, and all day . . ."

"Ok . . ."

He kissed her neck. "You'll be waiting for me when I get back. Get dressed. However you want. Surprise me. And we'll just take it from there . . ."

Allison held his face. "Can we really do this?"

"Why not? I am a very powerful man, Allison. I can make a lot happen. And if I want you, I'm going to have you."

Allison gazed with love at him. She had been hesitant to tell him her little fantasy, but he seemed perfectly accepting. She felt like she could be as perverse and sexual with him as she wanted, and it wouldn't affect his love for her. More than that, he seemed to like her even more for it. He was simply amazing. She barely knew him! 

She shifted around so his head was lying in her lap and she was playing with his hair. "What made you change your mind—really?" she asked. "And when did you know?"

"When did I know? I think it was as soon as I saw you when you got back."

"Me too . . . although I'd been wondering about it, even before I got home . . ."

"Oh? How did that happen?"

"Jeremy," said Allison, and told him the whole story of Jeremy's suspicions.

Paul thought about it. "Hmm. Fucking professor is too smart for his own good. I guess I should thank him."

Allison laughed. "I didn't want to admit it. I wasn't sure how you felt for the longest time."

"What, me wanting to kill Archer Welles wasn't a clue? It drove me crazy the way he looked at you. Knowing you'd be with him all next year. I could have strangled him with my bare hands."

"Did it bother you to see us dancing?"

"I wanted to punch his fucking lights out, what do you think? I couldn't stand it. I had to leave."

"But you still said No . . ."

"Yes . . ."

"So why did you change your mind?"

Paul really didn't know what to tell her of how deeply she had affected him that night on the beach. How much her harsh words had shamed him, and how scared he had been when he'd seen her walking out of his life. 

He reached up to touch her face. "The thought of losing you. Again. I knew I couldn't bear that."

"Well you won't," she said, leaning down to kiss him. "I'm not going anywhere."

She kissed him deeply until her was running his hands through her hair and bringing her mouth down hard on his. His hands traveled to her lovely, perfect ass, which he could not wait to see naked and spread before him. 

"Oh!" Allison gasped as she felt his cock swell tremendously hard beneath her. She whispered in his ear, "Is that for me?"

"Yes, baby," he whispered. " . . . all for you." 

He held her, seriously looking into her eyes. He always knew they were so alike. He just didn't know it was because of this. He could tell they shared the same perverse needs, the same dark sexual soul. He would love to fuck her right here, but they simply couldn't.

"We have to wait. Next week. Get yourself ready for me. Be waiting for me when I get back."

+++

A week later, Allison said goodbye to her mother and got into the limo Paul had set up for her. She'd packed a little overnight bag, gotten her hair done and various other things to get ready. It was good to have this little journey because she was so damned nervous she needed the time to calm down. It was ridiculous! They'd already had sex. Correction—she thought, they'd already made love. Not the same thing. She knew this was a "date" for something else, and she had dressed appropriately. Underneath her black silk dress she was clad in the most gorgeous black lingerie. Her dress had easy access in the front—it was just a wrap-around with a tie around the waist. She also wore fantastic heels and very sheer thigh highs, heavy make-up and red lipstick. She'd wanted to go all out. She absolutely loved getting decked out like this, the more so because she rarely did. She felt like she was in the middle of a dream, so why not dress for it? 

She and Paul had said a quick goodbye before he left for the convention. It had only been a week but she already missed him and was dying to see him. He'd been so tied up with work all she'd gotten was a quick phone call one night.

She turned on the TV in the back seat of the limo, curious to see if she could find him. And before long, there he was. Allison sank back into the seat and listened. How perfect. His speech was on all the national networks. It was about "Ethical Reform in Government." She couldn't help but smile. 

She was incredibly on edge by the time the driver dropped her off, helped her with her bag, and she entered one of the most luxurious hotels in the world to wait for him. When she got into the suite, she went to the balcony to drink in the view and watch and listen to the city, knowing he was out there. Her body was throbbing with excitement, expectation and extreme nervousness. She couldn't forget how hard and easily she had come the one time she'd let herself masturbate thinking about him. She knew their brief moment together had only scratched the surface of their attraction. Her nipples perked up and hardened at the slightest sound, she could almost feel him behind her, his cock pushing hard into her back, his lips on her neck, his hands traveling up to cup her breasts.

What was he doing? Was he thinking about her at the same time?

+++

Not too far away, Paul was nearing the end of his speech with the glare of lights in his eyes, the teleprompter scrolling, and the huge audience hanging on his every word. He was in a bit of a quandary because for the last ten minutes he had had the most intense, throbbing erection. He knew he must be a really sick fuck, but the more the exalted words about morality flowed from his mouth the more he thought of Allison waiting for him in the hotel and the harder he got. He simply couldn't help it. And this extreme sexual tension was making him so good. He was on fire. He had everyone in the palm of his hand.

When he was finally done, he had a standing ovation, and had to wait and wave and bask in the admiration and love being showered all over him. How fucking perverse was it? He'd just given what he knew was one of the best speeches in his life. And he knew the drive that was making him so great tonight was stemming straight from his full embrace of his need for Allison. He never felt such power flowing through him. He'd made everyone believe in what he was saying. He had awoken their passion with the strength of his own. 

Did that make him the most honest or the most dishonest man on the planet? 

As soon as he could, Paul left the stage, waving off his handlers. "Just get me a car."

Riding uptown, he was so hard and so eager to see her he couldn't think straight. He shifted his legs and adjusted his trousers to give his cock some room. It was pressed up obscenely and already leaking pre-cum thinking about her.

Getting to the suite was painful and seemed to take forever. He finally got the keycard in the lock and went inside. It was very dimly lit. 

"Hello?" he called out. 

Allison stepped out of the shadows and Paul automatically said "Oh, fuck" when he saw her. She looked drop dead gorgeous—sultry and sophisticated at the same time. Her killer body was clad in a tight, tight slinky black dress with a plunging neckline. It hugged her perfect round ass and ended mid-thigh, where his eyes traveled down her long, toned legs to impossibly high spiked heels. He could see the faint outlines of garters clipped to the tops of her stockings. She screamed high class prostitute and he absolutely adored it.

"Do you like it?" Allison said, shyly. She hesitated by the doorway into the foyer, just looking at him. He was suddenly reminded of their encounter in the kitchen when she'd first gotten home, only the positions were reversed. Now she was the one looking at him nervously, wondering how he would react. 

Paul immediately tossed his crap on the floor and went over to her, leaning with both hands against the wall.

"I fucking love it," he said, kissing her sweetly on the lips. "Have you been waiting long?"

She shook her head. "How was your speech?"

"My speech?" he said, trailing his mouth down to her neck, "My speech was a goddamned love letter."

"Oh?" said Allison, gasping for breath. His lips were hotly pressing against the tender crook of her ears, making cold chills run up and down and her spine and good pimples break out all over. She brought her hands up to clutch at his head and bring him closer. "What does that mean?"

Paul was pushing his hard, painfully swollen cock into her hips. "Best speech of my life. You know why?"

"Why?" Allison groaned, as she opened her legs wider and he pushed harder against her.

"You feel that?"

"Yes," she smiled into his eyes.

"That's why."

"Hmmm . . . Ethics . . . sexy . . ."

"Yeah. . ." he said, "Morality is my specialty. So why is it the whole time all I could think about was coming back here to fuck you?"

"Oh? Is that what you're intending to do, Congressman?"

"Yes," Paul murmured. "As much and as many times as I want."

Allison let out a deep sigh of pleasure, and reached down to touch him. She ran her long fingernails lightly up and down his shaft. "Well, as your paid escort, that's exactly what I'm here for."

Paul looked at her seriously. "You know what I realized? Why I love you so much?"

"Why?" Allison smiled.

"Because I spend all my time telling other people how to behave, and you're the only one keeping me honest."

Allison touched his face while continuing to stroke his cock. "And coming back here to fuck your daughter makes you an honest man?"

"Yes, it does . . . I'm not talking about family values, am I? This is between you and I, and no one else."

"Even if it goes against 'who you are?'"

"It is who I am," he whispered, pushing harder into her belly, "in the most important sense."

"Now, do you really want to be Daddy's good little whore?" His lips were on her neck and his hands trailing up her taut, silk-clad thighs. 

"Yes. . . please . . " Allison gasped, scratching at his fly. 

"Yes, my hot . . . sweet . . . cocksucking little slut?" he said, reaching down to frantically unzip his pants while pushing her head towards his cock. 

"Oh yes," Allison moaned. She was shocked at his audacity, but loved it and immediately sank down onto her knees in front of him.

She helped him pull his throbbing cock out of his fly and grabbed the thick shaft—it was so perfectly smooth and round in her hand. It reared straight up, not curved, at a perfect 45 degree angle from his groin, red-hot and swollen. She directed it with one hand to her mouth, sliding the tip along her lips for a second and licking around the head.

"Oh God, suck it, baby, please!" Paul begged in a desperate voice. He couldn't help it. He put both hands on either side of her head and pushed into her mouth.

"Uh!" He gasped, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "Uhhh . . . fuck . . ." Her sweet lips wrapped around him and he felt like he was in heaven. He was so fucking hard, the delicate skin stretched on his dick was way more sensitive than usual. He was literally bursting. He could not stop himself from holding her head and immediately pumping her mouth. He had to!

For several minutes there were no sounds but Allison's eager, joyful sucking and Paul's almost agonized moans. They both loved it in equal measure—Allison his devoted whore and Paul her grateful Daddy. It was pure ecstasy.

As her sucking and his pushing got more intense and Paul knew he could not hold off his orgasm, he gently pulled her mouth off him and pulled her upright.

"Put me inside you," Paul begged, as he tore down her panties and pushed open her legs. "Please, Allison, before I fucking explode!"

Allison took his cock and directed it right to her spread legs. When he thrust up into her, huge and hard and throbbing, she felt a tiny stab of pain and cried out. She immediately swiveled her hips forward to better accommodate him and moaned as the pain changed into pure pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he began to slowly pump up into her from a standing position. 

"No, no . . . deeper, deeper . . ." she begged. 

Paul pulled back to look at her, kissed her, and quickly hoisted both of her legs onto his hips. His arms were straining at the effort as he walked with her draped around him, impaled on his rigid cock, into the bedroom.

He saw a dresser, deposited her ass on the surface, widened her thighs and pushed deep and hard, driving the head of his cock into her. "Is that better?"

"Yes!" Allison squealed, "Yes, just harder, harder!"

Paul whispered into her neck as he began to slam into her. "I'm sorry! I need to fuck you, just like this, right now, hang on baby. . . oh FUCK I'm so glad you came back for the summer!" 

His cock was driving deep and hard into her most sensitive spot, hitting it over and over and making Allison yell out with each push. Her wetness was oozing down her thighs into her stockings. "Oh God, yes!" she began to moan. "Oh right there!"

Paul rutted and fucked into her with total raw need and abandon, his cock so impossibly hard from the knowledge that he was inside her less than an hour after his standing ovation. The total wrongness and perversity yet delicious perfection of it drove him crazy. Her pussy felt so sweet and good! He started grunting with each short, powerful thrust, raking his cock head back and forth deep within her, needing to come so badly. He was blinded with pleasure. He couldn't do anything but clutch at her, holding on tight to her hair, his face buried in her neck, his ass and hips squeezing and clenching and shuddering. Her hot, slutty little pussy, spread wide and wet, trembled on his dick and spasmed with her own escalating need. 

Allison had felt an orgasm building from the moment he entered her. She was so ready for it. His cock was plunging in and out of her favorite spot, hitting it over and over, driving her closer and closer. She went totally into her fantasy, her orgasm building and building around the idea of being his hot little whore. The idea went straight into her body, making her pussy so sensitive to every driving touch of his cock. She started panting harder and harder, moaning "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Daddy" in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Oh Jesus Christ, baby" Paul yelled, "Oh FUCK! Oh take my cum, take it, take it, take it, Uhhhhh!!" 

Paul's eyes vaguely took in the magnificent view of the city out the window as he came. He saw red lights blinking on and off, yellow lights pulsing, orange car lights making trails up and down the tiny streets below of his very own city. It had never been so beautiful as his cum shot into her and he moaned her name. 

Allison's own exploding pleasure spiraled outwards like a starburst centered on his throbbing dick, so quick and intense. He made her come so easily. Just the thought of him being inside her made her orgasm go on and on, her head thrown back, her pussy squeezing and contracting over and over on his hard tool. 

They were completely dazed. Paul lay still against her, his heart pounding, feeling the last drops of cum leaking out into her womb. "Oh, baby," he moaned, stroking her hair and kissing her neck. 

Allison laughed as she stroked his back in slow circles, "Do you think we'll ever get our clothes off?"

"Oh don't worry," he said, stroking her sexy garters. "I'm going to see every little bit of you tonight. Let me just . . . catch my breath . . . mmmmm."

He kissed her all over her neck and shoulders, then he brought his mouth on top of hers. "After all, I've paid for a whole night, and Daddy wants his money's worth."

Allison smiled at him. "Oh well then don't let me stop you."

He stood up, pulling at his tie and shrugging off his suspenders. Allison sat back on her hands, her tilted to the side, watching him undress as the faint traces of her orgasm still pulsed in her body. He undid his cufflinks, tossing them on the table along with his keys and wallet, but kept his clunky silver watch on his wrist. He slid off his expensive striped shirt, and she gazed at his tanned chest. He had a fantastic body, she knew that, but now she could actually see it. 




The Politician's Daughter Ch. 02



Mmmm . . . what else were they going to do tonight, she wondered as he stepped out of his pants, then his briefs, and finally stood completely naked in front of her. She smiled, taking him in, happy to be able to gaze openly at him with undisguised pleasure. He had a smooth, hairless chest, a slim waist and lean, muscled thighs. His long, beautiful, flaccid cock swayed a little in a nice thatch of brown hair as he reached for her and brought her upright, turning her around so he was nuzzling her neck from behind. His hands tightly circled her waist.

"I want to see how my baby girl dressed for me. Would you let Daddy undress you?"

Allison nodded, smiling.

He pulled her to the bed and sat down, positioning her between his legs, and immediately tugged at the tie of her dress. He watched her eyes as he slowly pulled until the whole front of the silky dress opened a few inches, like a robe. Allison did nothing. She stood in her high heels, her hands at her sides, entirely passive. She could barely breathe, she was so aroused watching him. Her heavy lust fixated on the smallest things—his perfect, expensive haircut, his silver watch, the faint trace of shadow on his face, his musky cologne—as he concentrated his whole attention on her body. 

Paul pushed open her dress and made a sharp intake of breath, and Allison saw his soft cock instantly begin to harden. 

"Do you like it?" she whispered.

"Oh fuck yes," Paul said, his eyes riveted on her body. He pushed off her dress so that it fell on the floor. His big, warm hands traveled up to her waist and pulled her a little closer.

A gorgeous garter belt of inset black lace wrapped perfectly around her curved hips, dipping low in the front below her belly button and framing a tiny little triangle of trimmed hair above barely-visible lips. Her sweet mound was seductively on display, and Allison gently widened her legs as he stared at it, his cock slowly rising to its full height and hardness. Her slim, tanned inner thighs were so perfectly silky smooth he couldn't resist stroking them. His eyes were riveted on her little cleft, and the adorable little spread of her labia and succulent clit. 

"So fucking perfect . . . just what Daddy wanted," he whispered, as he ran his fingertips over the tops of her stockings, over the lacy little clips and up to the garter. He avoided touching her pussy for the moment. He just wanted to caress all her curves, and delicately touch her tanned summer skin. His fingers stroked her lower stomach, making her instantly gasp and instinctively pull back from his touch, her flesh helplessly trembling. 

"Shh . . . let me touch you," he whispered, pulling her closer. His hands slid up her wide, curved hips, tracing them lovingly, and then continued slowly up her rib cage to just below her breasts. His thumbs caressed the bottom of the black lace half-bra which didn't cover her breasts but merely pushed the two soft mounds up and outwards to his gaze. Her tits were totally exposed, the puffy red areolas two small perfect triangles culminating in tiny peaks. It was all so gorgeously provocative, displaying and offering her tits and pussy in the most tastefully whorish way. Paul loved it. 

He gently undid the front clasp of her bra and pulled it off her, then replaced the tight encasing with his hands pushing her breasts together, forcing her nipples forward for his pleasure. He lightly ran his thumbs over the nipples, and gently squeezed, like a man appreciating a fine work of art. 

"Turn around," he murmured. 

Allison pivoted on her heels, turning around so he could see her ass. She arched her back and shook out her long silky hair. 

"Oh, Jesus," Paul hissed. Her black garter belt rode up sweetly across her hips, the scooped arches echoing the perfect heart of her ass. He drew his hands up the back of her thighs, slowly tracing up to deep valley and then up to her straight, toned shoulders and back. With one hand he drew her even closer; with the other he reached around to find her trimmed little patch. He could feel the heat rising from her as he pushed his hand between her legs, widening and opening, seeking out her pussy. He felt it delicately with his fingers, toying with the outer lips, gently pushing on her clit, and stroking her wet slit. Allison began to gasp and wiggle her ass, but he held her firmly in place as he concentrated on feeling her. He played with her for a long time without penetrating her, just stroking and probing and tracing every little fold of her flowering cunt until she was moaning and gasping and trying to grind down on his hand. 

He moaned and slid back onto the bed, spreading his thighs a little bit and reaching for her, his cock jutting up harder than ever. 

"Come here, get on top of me," Paul said urgently. "Let me see you. I want to watch you."

She quickly kicked off her heels, crawled on the bed and straddled him with her stockings still on and her ass towards him.

"Oh, perfect. Just like that."

Paul groaned in pleasure; he wanted this to last and last. He watched her slither forward and position her silk-clad legs on either side of his hips, giving him a magnificent view of her ass and spread pussy. He put his hands on each luscious cheek and used his strong thumbs to spread her wide, taking in the sight of her beautiful wet open hole and folds dripping in arousal. His cock twitched and jumped underneath her. 

"Yes," he hissed as Allison reached behind to grasp his cock with one hand and direct it to her dripping, swollen lips. He watched her coat the head of his cock with her slick juices, widen her hips, and slowly pop the thick swollen head inside. Paul was mesmerized, taking in every single lewd detail. He saw her pussy get wetter and wetter as she slid her garter-clad hips down the shaft of his cock so slowly, gasping in pleasure as each inch disappeared inside her. She worked her ass and hips to take him in slowly and deliberately. Allison absolutely loved this position and angle; his big cock hit the most delicious, perfect spot near the front of her pussy and she immediately started grinding against it, swiveling and snaking her hips backwards and forwards, pushing and dragging against that incredible G-spot.

"Oh, Jesus," Paul moaned and gasped as he watched her ass move on his hips. 

"Make yourself come," he whispered up at her. "You look so beautiful, baby." 

Allison slithered and gyrated on top of him, gasping as she rode him, knowing he was getting quite a view from behind. His stiff cock felt so fabulous. She exhaled loudly with each downward thrust of her hips, closing her eyes in deep, luxurious pleasure, sinking lustfully into the amazing sensations. She could ride him like this forever. 

Paul held her curving hips, watching her work them to just use his cock for her own pleasure and get herself off for him. He fucking loved it. He could feel her slide her stiff clit against his shaft with each downward thrust, and wiggle her ass to get him deeper and deeper. She was working up a huge pool of wetness on his thighs as she rode him. The rich aroma of sex reached both of them, and her aroused scent made Paul's cock as hard as a bar of iron inside of her.

The closer she got, the more Allison imagined herself a skilled, seasoned pro giving this man the show of his life. She figured the highest paid escorts weren't just beautiful, but knew how to come hard for their clients. The fantasy electrified her, pushing her further and further, making her gasp and moan as she slid up and down in her own slick juices. She started to moan loudly and painfully as she began to lose control of herself and buck wildly on his hips, desperate to reach her goal. She could feel her thighs shaking and trembling, her hips turning into liquid. 

"You're gorgeous, keep going!" Paul urged her, watching her and seeing her striving to please herself. "Let yourself go, baby, let it go, come for me, come hard, let me see you!" 

Paul grabbed her hips tight and fucked up into her hard and fast, holding her down and keeping her squirming hips still. His breath was coming fast and hard as he fucked her, right there with her, helping her. 

"Mmmmmm!! Oh Goddddd!!" A deep cry tore from Allison's throat as she felt enormous tremors start in her thighs and spread harder and harder into her hips and towards her clit. "OH MY GOD I'M COMING!! OH!!"

Allison screwed up her eyes tightly and grasped the sheets with her fists. Her hips and legs shook uncontrollably, harder and harder, as a powerful orgasm spread through her body. Paul watched her pleasure just explode, her uncontrollable cunt wildly spasming and gushing all over him, all around his cock. He took in every hot, beautiful aspect, holding her calves and keeping her spread. Her legs were thrashing wildly on either side of his hips, her ass cheeks shaking, as she screamed out and clutched at his legs. 

Allison's eyes were wide open and staring at nothing, her mouth in a surprised O, her body shuddering and her pussy contracting over and over with the thought of being his beautiful whore showing him the most intense orgasm of her life. Her eyes filled with tears of blinding pleasure.

"Oh, baby, come here," he said, pulling her up and folding her in his arms, kissing her. 

"Dad," Allison said weakly, so wiped with the intensity of her orgasm. "Ohh, . . ." 

"It's ok. . ." Paul held her hands and wiped her sweaty hair off her face. He kissed her over and over, held her, stroking her shoulders and back. 

Allison let him hold her, her eyes staring off out the window, her body still shuddering and trembling. She was stunned. She had never come that hard in her life. 

"Oh that was . . . so good," she moaned.

He kissed her over and over. "You're amazing." 

She rolled over and touched his face, her tremors slowly subsiding into quiet contentment. He kissed her, soothing her with his tender attention and touches. 

"I had a feeling that was all wound up in you," he said, continuing to kiss her. 

He spooned into her, pushing his still raging hard cock into her ass.

"This is just the beginning, baby," he whispered. "It's going to take a long time to work this out."

She smiled and reached back to softly stroke his cock. "Mmmmm . . . what about you?"

Paul groaned, kissing her neck. "I don't know . . . Are you ready for me?"

Allison turned around, smiling, and slipped under him, opening her legs and getting him between her thighs. She reached under to grab hold of his cock, bent her legs and brought it to her wet, open pussy and kissed him sweetly. "Yes."

"Oh fuck . . . I promise I'll make this up to you," he said, as he quickly lifted her legs and put them on his shoulders and shifted his hips to get some good, strong leverage, bending one knee.

He held himself inches from her face with his strong arms so he could watch her as he fucked her. 

"Daddy's just got to fuck the living shit out of you tonight. Do you mind?" Allison shook her head and widened her legs. He pushed hard, lodging just the head of his big cock in her opening. Allison gasped, never losing eye contact as he pushed in bit by bit and watched her every reaction. 

"Deep inside . . . my sweet . . . hot . . . baby girl . . . ohhhh fuck, there we go, there we go. . ."

Allison smiled with a deep glow of delight in her blue eyes when he bottomed out, deep and hard and full in her pussy. He smiled back at her as they exchanged a wicked look. 

"Didn't expect this, did you?" Paul said, as he started fucking her. 

"What?" Allison gasped, her eyes lustfully watching his muscular body towering over her. 

"This," he said, making a deep growl in his throat as he pushed harder. "That I'd just want to nail you like a teenager, FUCK you feel so good . . . you feel so goddamned good on my cock!"

Allison raised her hips, meeting his thrusts and watching him plow into her from above. Every time he hit the back of her pussy he looked at her and smiled and pushed even harder. 

"No, but I'm not surprised," she gasped in response. "I knew you'd be good in bed."

"Oh yeah? Why?" He reached his hands down to play with her tits, squeezing them and crushing them hard together and growling in his throat again. 

"Like you said," Allison was panting hard now. "We're so much alike."

"Mmmmm . . ." he kissed her calves, which were resting on his shoulders. "Good point."

"I think I knew . . . I think I had an idea when I saw how you reacted to Archer Welles—"

"Ugh," Paul made a disgusted sound. "Don't mention that fuck's name."

"—staring at my tits."

"Uh!" Paul spat out, making Allison laugh. The mention of the Senator seemed to make him crazy with lust. He rammed into her, grinding into her clit, fucking her hard, driving into her wetness like he could never get enough of it. His eyes left hers and traveled down to watch his cock plunging in and out of her pussy. It was as if he wanted to convince himself he was really fucking her. He wanted to see her puffy, swollen, dripping labia stretched on his dick; he wanted to watch his thick, swollen muscle, coated with her cunt juices, slide in and out. The sight of his own cock inside her pushed him into some kind of frenzy.

"Turn over, turn over, that's it . . ."

Allison flipped onto her hands and knees, her back swayed inward and her ass pushed up high. Paul roughly got between her legs and grabbed hold of his cock to rake it against her pussy, getting it dripping wet while teasing her unmercifully. 

"Tell me you want me, baby. Tell Daddy what you want!"

Allison moaned loudly and wiggled her ass and hips trying to get him to penetrate her, but he just kept stroking against her lips. He reached down to rub her stiff clit at the same time, his eyes riveted on her beautiful, wet, trembling cunt.

"YES!!" Allison screamed out. "Fuck me. Fuck me, now, please!"

Paul grabbed hold of two handfuls of soft flesh on her ass cheeks and pulled her hips wide apart and drove into her until his balls mashed up against her thighs. "Uh!"

He stayed upright on his knees as he watched himself pound her and Allison screamed and cried and pushed back with her hips to meet each hard thrust. He ground his teeth together, clenching down to stop himself from getting too excited. Her hot pussy sucked at his cock, wanting and needing it, holding on and grasping it as they worked themselves into a fast rhythm.

Allison had her eyes tightly closed, her head thrown back, her long silky hair swaying from side to side on her shoulders. Pretty soon every thought was pushed from her mind but the minute details of what his cock was doing to her. Her mind as well as her body latched onto it tightly, completely wrapped themselves around it.

She hissed directions at him. "Harder, harder!" "There! There!" "Faster, faster!" 

Paul groaned and reached down to grasp her hips and pull her towards him as he adjusted his stance. His hips began fucking her faster as he got in as deep as he could go and leaned over her, his face in her neck, his breath at her ear.

"It's me, baby," he said sweetly, as his cock pounded into her with short, quick strokes. "Mmmm," he moaned as his hands reached down to stroke her nipples. His wet cock was sucking in and out of her pussy. He stroked her hard nipples and rubbed her clit as they fucked for a long time, their mutual orgasm growing and gaining in intensity. 

Allison whined and moaned. She was nothing but a sweet craven pussy and two tight, aching nipples. She could only moan and scream and grunt as the terrible pleasure grew and grew. Dear fucking God! What a bad, slutty girl she was! Her mind went entirely into her body, at one with her dirty, demanding cunt. 

"Ohhhh . . . " Allison let out a long, painful moan. "Oh make me come, make me come . . . please . . ."

"You want it, sweetheart?" Paul whispered to her. "You want it? Here it comes, here it comes . . . Allison, honey . . ."

Paul clenched her slim waist with both arms, holding onto her so tightly as he shot his cum into her, shuddering and moaning, his hips and ass suddenly still. He felt her ass bucking up into his hips as she came with him, shrieking and crying. 

They were absolutely drenched in sweat and exhausted as Paul slid off her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her over and over. He held her trembling body until she finally calmed down. 

+++

Four years later, Allison lay wrapped in his arms in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. It could have been the same bed, the same suite. 

"So, is it going to happen?" she asked him.

"I think so. Today likely sealed the deal. I'm expecting a call tomorrow, or so I've been told." Paul was stroking her body and hair.

"Vice President Austin," Allison said, turning around to face him and get underneath him. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, sweetheart." 

"I haven't talked to Mom yet. I bet she's over the moon."

"Yes, I'm sure. And I'm happy for her, Allison. It probably means more to her than to me."

"What does it mean for us?" she asked.

"Just have to be a little more careful," he whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Allison thought about the last four years. Everything that had happened between then could fill a whole damned novel. The ups and downs, the fights and apologies, the jealousies and drama. They'd been through a lot together, but overall, she couldn't deny things had worked out smashingly in the end.

Their affair was absolutely necessary and vital to both of them, and since they'd started it, their outside lives had flourished. 

Paul's career had never been better. Hers was taking off, finally, and of course, there was Peter.

She laughed whenever she thought she'd ended up with a therapist. Perfect. He was 15 years older than her. She'd met him in DC one rainy night at a party, after a big fight with Paul. But strangely, once she found him, her relationship with Paul had never been better. She hadn't told Peter yet, but she was going to. She knew if anyone could understand, he could. He was a very busy, successful man, absorbed in his growing practice. The things she heard from him about his patients . . . yes, she felt sure he would understand. And if not, well . . . she snuggled back into her father's warm arms . . . she knew what her choice would be.