Message-ID: <24531asstr$960300680@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: VBwrites@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <aa.5f99efc.266d88a2@aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} Paternity (7/10) (Virago Blue)(MF, orgy, mf, oral, Rom) Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2000 10:11:20 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/24531> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, apuleius, IceAltar <1st attachment, "Paternity~7.txt" begin> * * * Continued from Part 6 * * * The next morning I sent Scotty off to school with his usual hug and kiss. Again I tucked a few cookies into his backpack. I finished getting ready for my meeting with Lance paying close attention to my appearance. I don't really know why I wanted to look nice for Lance. The only reason I could come up with was I didn't want him to find a reason to pity me in any way. By the time I reached Lance's office building I had chewed off my lipstick and worried a knot in my stomach. I touched up my lipstick in the rearview mirror wondering at the last minute if I should turn around, go home and let an attorney handle this situation. I decided to stick it out and face Lance myself. Besides, if I could avoid attorney's fees it would actually save my budget for the year. The marquis in the lobby listed Lance's office on the third floor, a suite of offices with the name Cunningham conspicuously monopolizing the space. I wasn't sure what Lance did for a living but I felt sure he could thank his father-in-law for his prosperity. The Cunninghams were a well-known family and their wealth was constantly talked about in the social column of the local newspaper. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly Lance found so attractive in Christy. She was so mean, nasty and materialistic. She could never possibly give anything of herself and in truth I couldn't see Lance as the type that would put up with someone like her. But maybe I didn't know Lance like I thought I did. There always was a selfish side to Lance, an aspect that bred wariness when he was around me. I walked through the double glass doors leading to the reception area. An attractive woman in a clean cut black suit and a blond chignon smiled up at me. "May I help you?" I looked over her shoulder. A man, husky and blond, was walking down the hall in our direction. He was tanned with a slight redness in his cheeks. The redness reminded me of the look my grandpa used to get when he had too much to drink. His eyes, small and bright blue, glanced my way. He paused in his step, reluctant to continue. He had no where to hide, no where to go but forward. It was Lance. "Ah, there he is! Actually, no. Lance is an old friend I must speak with..." I said all this with a false air of authority about me, like I had every reason to barge past her and into the path of Lance. "How are you, Lance?" I said to him when I stepped in front of him. The receptionist was behind me, her hands on her hips. Lance studied me for a few seconds. "Shall I call security?" The receptionist asked. Lance glanced at her, his eyes falling back to me. He shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Charlene." He smiled sardonically, glancing over his shoulder. "What brings you here. Torie? I must say it's a terrific surprise to run into you after all these years. Come. Let's talk in my office." I nodded, following him down the carpeted hallway. He had a nice office decorated in classic Chippendale style. I settled uncomfortably in a leather chair near the window. "It's good to finally run into you, Lance." He sat on the edge of his desk in front of me. "Why do I get the feeling you want something? Donations and such for organizations are handled through the accounting department. If you wish to inquire as to whether Cunningham and Associates would purchase a sponsorship, my secretary can give you a form to fill out --." "I need you to take a paternity test," I said quickly, cutting him off. I felt the heat rise to my face, a trickle of sweat dripping between my breasts. I counted the seconds he stared at me, not breaking my gaze from him. "I'm serious." "I don't doubt that you are, Torie. I'm just wondering why me." He stood up and walked behind his desk, settling his stout frame into the chair. He tilted back in the chair and watched me. "Because you could be his father. Don't tell me you don't remember?" I stared at his blank expression. "Graduation weekend, eight years ago. The lake house." I re-crossed my legs and huffed in aggravation. "My son deserves to know his father and you are one of the three, as if you don't remember. Don't pretend with me, Lance." I leaned forward closer to his face. "Let's just put it this way. I know it could be you, Parker knows it could be you and I have the law on my side. You need to report to this clinic -- " I placed the business card from the lab in front of him " --within four days or my attorney will serve you with papers at your residence. I don't think you want that. Now, we can keep this from your wife if you cooperate or I will be forced to drag her into this, something I don't want to do. Besides, there's only a one in three chance that you are Scotty's father." I sat back in my chair, breathing heavily. Lance blinked and looked away. "Why are you doing this to me?" "It's not about you." He slammed his hand down on his desk, eyeing me with murderous intent. "You have no right coming in here after all these years and asking me to play daddy. I have two children of my own, a life I enjoy. You could ruin so much with your little game." "Game? The life of a child is a game to you? You pompous bastard." I stood to go. "You will be hearing from my attorney." I turned towards the door. "Wait." I paused, my back still to him. I was seething with rage, I wanted to cry out. I wanted to hit him. "What?" "How much do you want? We can make some kind of financial arrangement, that way you can go on with your life and --" "What the fuck are you suggesting? I sell my son's rights?" I strode back to his desk, planting my hands on his blotter and leaned in close. "Get this straight, I don't want you to be Scotty's father any more than you want to be either. Still, the fact remains that there is a man in this world who took it upon himself to help create a child and it's about damn time that man stepped up to his responsibility." Lance fingered the card. "Alright. I suppose I need to find out the facts before I make any decisions." I stood up, crossing my arms over my chest. I winced at the pains in my injured arm, cursing the fact that my vanity didn't allow me to where the sling today. I didn't want him to ask any questions. Lance was trying to turn this into some kind of power play. It wasn't going to work. "You have four days. After that my attorney visits the Cunningham estate." I marched from his office, slamming the door behind me. The receptionist pursed her lips and frowned. I threw her a look and slammed past the doors. I was shaking with rage. I fell into my car, turned the engine over and began to cry. How horrible he had become. Please, I prayed, please don't let Scotty's father be that man. I left a message with Parker's service as soon as I got home. He called me thirty minutes later from his cell phone. "Was it bad?" He asked. "Horrible. I had no idea he was such a bastard," I said. "Lance's priorities have always been pretty self-centered. I'm sorry you had to see that today." "I don't know if he'll show up. I'm not sure if I should find an attorney now or if I should just wait. I just don't know what to do." "Look, I'm in your neighborhood. I don't have another meeting for another two hours. Can I come by?" Parker asked before adding. "I'll bring lunch." "No. I mean, don't bring lunch. Let me make you lunch," I laughed nervously. "Yeah, come by and I'll fix lunch for you. I could use the company." I gave Parker directions to my apartment and then hurriedly scrounged through my refrigerator and pantry for the ingredients for an impressive lunch. * * * Continued in Part 8 * * * ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP) system due to inadequate formatting. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+