. a thousand-dollar-a-night hooker ... was, in reality, Samantha Tarkenton, his daughter.You couldn’t tell it from the way she acted.“Good evening...Brad ... I’m Jasmine.” She held out one slim, manicured hand. Training brought his own hand up and he touched his daughter for the first time in five years.“I’m truly astonished,” he managed to say.Julie giggled. “I told you she put me to shame.”The ride to the hall was a dark, mist-filled time for Brad, as he tried to wrap his mind around the events. ... down my neck, a sort of spout. I can feel the desire fill my cock, the way red wine fills jars - or a blossom is made. My thighs shift and squirm. I can still taste the fig on my tongue - so sweet, in all its fleshiness. Down, down - valleys made of skin. My mouth is gaping - as if for use, as if any man or woman might shove their tongue in it, lick out all that fig from it, and maybe branches would sprout from my bones. I have reached my nipples, less white - teasing them, teasing them. More

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