The Best Thousand Dollars I Ever SpentChapter 2
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By seven that night both Brad and Jasmine were exhausted from their efforts to drive each other further and further into the arms of ecstasy and they collapsed in slumber together.
It was only an hour later that the phone jarred them both out of their nap. They had fallen asleep with Jasmine lying on top of him, still firmly penetrated by his cock, which had delivered yet another helping of his incestuous spunk into her pussy.
When she jerked awake and pushed up off of him there was a wet squelch as their sexual organs separated. Then there was a muted “Ow!” as Jasmine tried to push herself up and found that her hands were pinning her hair to the bed. The phone had rung five or six times by the time she stumbled to it and lifted it.
“What!?” she snarled into the phone.
Brad could hear the laughter on the other end from ten feet away as he rubbed his muzzy eyes, trying to wake up.
“Oh, it’s you,” said Jasmine, her voice a little more hospitable. “We were sleeping,” she said.
There was a pause as she listened and her free hand automatically started straightening and combing through her long, tangled silky hair. “Do we have to?” she complained. Another pause and then she sighed. “Oh, all right. We’ll be there.”
She hung up the phone and Brad watched, still in awe over her beauty as she came back to the bed. She put her hands on the bed and leaned down to kiss him. “That was Julie. She says because it’s your last night in town we have to get together with them at their house.”
Brad sighed too. “It’s one of those obligatory things. You’ll have to put up with that all the time when we’re married.” he warned.
She kissed him again. “Well, if that’s the worst thing that happens to us then married life won’t be so bad at all.” She kissed her way down his chest, heading for his groin. He grabbed a handful of hair and stopped her.
“If you do that we’ll never get there,” he said.
“I just love it when an old broken down man gets all hard and excited for me,” she said sweetly. Then, like a snake, she darted her mouth to his cock, trying to get him inside her. She only partially succeeded as he surged to a sitting position and grabbed her head. They wrestled playfully as she got the side of his cock between her lips, but then his strength won out and all she could manage was to slide her lips and tongue along his flaccid length before he pushed her away.
She smacked her lips theatrically. “You taste like both of us,” she said. “We taste good.”
It only took them half an hour to make themselves presentable. Both were expert at the quick makeovers that were sometimes required in the business world. They dressed casually. Somehow a lot of Jasmine’s clothing had managed to find its way into Brad’s hotel room. Brad was in the bathroom combing his hair when she came in dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. Even in such rough clothing she was fabulously beautiful and Brad felt his cock stir with interest. Amazed, he tried to count back the number of times he had ejaculated inside her unprotected and particularly fertile slit just this one day. He quit trying when he got to four. Four times in one day! At least four times in one day! He could hardly believe it. Maybe there was something to oysters after all.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, peering past him into the mirror.
“Sir John is trying to stand at attention in honor of your beauty this very second,” he said.
She giggled. When she turned around he could see writing on the back of the sweat shirt and turned to read it. It said “The beatings will continue until morale improves”. He laughed at the similarity between that statement and her demands on him sexually.
George was magically out front waiting for them again, and he smiled as he opened the door of the limo. “You two look good together,” he said as they approached.
Jasmine dimpled at him. “Thank you George. I have a secret. Do you want to know it?”
George, ever tactful, said, “Well, miss Jasmine, if it’s a secret, and you tell me, then it won’t be a secret anymore.”
Jasmine turned to Brad. “Please, can I tell him? George is special.”
Brad smiled. “George is special, and he deserves to be the first person to find out.” Brad saw George’s eyes dart to Jasmine’s left hand. George was very perceptive. But there was nothing there to see, and his eyes darted away again.
Brad stole a march on his bride to be. “We haven’t had a chance to go shopping for a ring yet.”
Jasmine was incensed that he had blabbed the secret she was supposed to blab, but she was a smart girl, and for the first time she used his name. “Brad!” she barked. “I was supposed to get to tell him!”
She was interrupted by what might have looked like an assault to a bystander. That bystander would have seen the limo chauffeur suddenly grab the beautiful woman who was about to get into the car and crush her in a hug that lifted her off the ground as he swung her around.
“Oh Jasmine, I’m SO happy for you,” George gushed.
To his surprise Jasmine kissed him on the lips and then laughed at the look on his face. “Thank you George. You’re sweet. You’ve always been sweet to me George. I’m going to need somebody to walk me down the aisle. Would you think about doing that for me?”
The look on George’s face was classic surprise, gratitude and elation all rolled up into one look and Brad knew that Jasmine had done something for him that would eclipse any tip of any size that someone might offer him.
“I don’t have to think about it. I would be honored,” he said.
Then he was suddenly all business again, ushering them into the car, telling them they had to hurry, that they would be late for their engagement.
Brad and Jasmine were necking in the back of the limo when it stopped. Neither thought about the fact that the trip had been short, and were surprised when George opened the door and they realized they were in the shopping district, down town. As they peered out they saw they were in front of Gino’s, one of the premier jewelers in Cleveland. Brad looked at his watch. It was late ... much too late for the store to be open. But as they got out the door opened and a man dressed in a three piece suit stood there, inviting them in.
“I made a call,” said George. “I thought you might want to make a purchase before I deliver you to Miss Julie’s,” he said, somewhat abashedly.
Brad grinned. “You’re a smart man George. I may need to just hire you away from the outfit you’re working for.”
George showed genuine surprise. “I’d have to talk with Claudette about that sir. She’s pretty happy where we are I think.” He looked a little sad.
“We’ll talk about that later ... with Claudette,” said Brad. Then he ushered Jasmine toward the open door. She was like a kid in a candy store. Fine jewelry was no stranger to Jasmine Trudeau, and she had shopped in this very store often enough that she knew the name of the man holding the door open for them. He knew her name too, which was the more telling thing to Brad, but he treated them with the utmost respect. It turned out he knew her well enough that, within ten wedding sets, he produced something that Jasmine sighed over. To Brad it was just a ring, but Jasmine discussed the color and clarity of the huge diamond that was the centerpiece of the engagement ring and the simplicity of the flowing design of the wedding band that nestled beside the sparkling stone.
“I love this one,” she moaned. “But It’s so expensive.”
No prices were displayed, or had been discussed to this point. The jeweler tossed his head. “Expense is not an issue. This ring was made for your finger Miss Trudeau.” The man sounded arrogant, but he could read his clients. Brad didn’t even ask how much it was. “She’ll wear it out,” he said.
Jasmine turned to him, a small pout on her face. “Not unless you put it on my finger,” she said.
Brad felt a little stupid for what he was going to do, but he did it anyway. He turned to Jasmine’s surrogate father and said “George, may I have Jasmine’s hand in marriage? I promise to love her, and care for her and make her as happy as I can for as long as I live.”
A flicker of surprise flashed in George’s eyes, but then he stuck out his hand and said “You have my blessing sir.”
Then Brad dropped to one knee and stared up into the dark green eyes of the woman he loved. As she bent her head to look at him he knew he had done something she would treasure forever. “Jasmine Trudeau, I love you. You would make me the happiest man on earth if you’d consent to be my bride.”
There was a brief pause as Jasmine seemed to think about it. Three men waited breathlessly to hear what she’d say, though none doubted she would accept.
“Bradley Tarkenton, I love you as well. Nothing would make me happier than to marry you and bear your children.”
Brad slipped the ring on her finger, stood up and kissed her. When that kiss was done both George and the jeweler’s eyes glistened. The jeweler coughed and blurted, “You know, in thirty-five years of being in this business I must have sold thousands of engagement rings, but no one has ever proposed in my store. I’ll send you a bill. Now, if our business is concluded, I believe I’d like to go home and remind my wife of how much I love her.”
Jasmine’s knockout smile lit up. “Why Thomas, you sweet, naughty man. You’d better do a good job of it, because I’m going to ask Marge how convincing you were.” She kissed Thomas on the cheek and turned around, holding her hand out, admiring her ring. “Oh, lets go!” she yipped. “I can’t wait to get there.”
Naturally, Jasmine insisted that no announcement be made when they got to the Clinton’s home, at least not until Julie had had time to notice the new jewelry on her own.
And, naturally, Julie noticed the ring within twenty seconds of their arrival. She shot one brief look at Brad, that had in it a number of messages, among them “Thank you” and “This had better be real” and even a touch of lust. Then she squealed and whooped and generally made noise, while Jasmine joined her and they both jumped and danced all around the entryway to the handsome house. Then there was twelve year old scotch for the men and carrot juice, of all things, for the women as toasts were made.
Julie quite unashamedly explained that women in her condition shouldn’t partake too much of the fruit of the vine, and that she had planned on wine with dinner. And, she went on to say, since Jasmine had been so completely inattentive to proper birth control procedures, it was only fair that she be included in the restricted alcohol diet.
She handed Jasmine the orange liquid. Jasmine wrinkled her nose, and gave a longing glance to the amber liquid in Brad’s glass, but toasted with the carrot juice anyway. “I guess you can’t be too careful,” she said.
The women disappeared into the kitchen to make up some snacks, leaving Josh and Brad to sit and sip their whisky.
“I’m surprised,” said Josh.
“Were you surprised when you proposed to Julie?” asked Brad.
“That’s not fair. I didn’t even know I was proposing. I just told her I couldn’t live without her,” said Josh. She accepted what she called my odd proposal of marriage and I suddenly realized that’s exactly what it had been! And by the time I realized what I had gotten myself into, I knew that I really couldn’t live without her. You know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Brad. “It must be something they teach in courtesan school.”
“Don’t ever say that to Jasmine,” warned Josh. “She wants to believe you were overcome with love for her.”
“I was,” said Brad. “I have to say I was.”
By then the women were back with little grilled cheese sandwiches, and black olives, and sweet pickles, as well as baby carrots and Liebfraumilch, which Julie explained each woman could have just a taste of since the carrot juice was so positively awful.
It was while they were eating that Julie said, “It’s just such a lovely night, why don’t we all jump in the hot tub?”
Josh agreed enthusiastically and Jasmine thought it was a great idea too. Brad looked a little uncomfortable. “We don’t have suits,” he commented.
Julie laughed. “We’re all adults. Who needs a suit?” Brad’s eyes widened and he looked at Jasmine, who was looking back at him through lowered lashes. “Josh isn’t like other men,” she said. Besides, Julie won’t let him look at me,” she teased.
Brad coughed. “Okay, that’s fine, but I’m not so sure I can keep from looking at Julie.”
Julie giggled. “You’re sweet Brad, but I’m all fat and ugly now.”
Brad choked on his sip of scotch and spewed whisky into his lap. Both women laughed and, as one, stood up. Jasmine got her sweatshirt off first, and stood, hipshot, dressed only in her jeans and sneakers. She hadn’t put on a bra. Julie unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a powder blue bra that was bulging with her enlarged breasts. It had a front catch on it which she deftly released. The bra cups sprang back and she shrugged the garment to the floor. Julie’s nipples had darkened, like a lot of pregnant women’s nipples do, and her breasts looked swollen and full as she stood beside her friend. Jasmine’s flat stomach made a shocking contrast to Julie’s round one.
“See?” pouted Julie, putting her arm around her best friend.
Both men forgot to breathe. Both men felt their hearts hammering in their chests. Both men felt erections bloom.
Brad dragged in a labored breath. “You’re neither fat, nor ugly, and I’m going to be in a lot of trouble if I have to take off my pants,” he croaked.
Both women laughed gaily and began getting rid of the rest of their clothing as the men sat, stunned and frozen. The thought occurred to both men that the practiced ease the women showed as they disrobed together, suggested they might have disrobed together before ... professionally. And, being men, that thought only heightened the eroticism of the moment.
Josh finally cleared his throat and voiced that very thought. “Brad, I might get in trouble for this too, but does it look like they might have done this together before?”
“Yes,” said Brad, feeling his erection reach full hard. “Josh, I need to apologize to you,” he added.
“We’re both going to have to apologize to each other,” said Josh in a strangled voice. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen Jasmine in her working clothes,” he said unthinkingly.
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