But whoring? That was different. That was prostitution, hands down.
"Ma," I said slowly. "That's not reasonable. I appreciate that you've paid for a nice apartment for me, but I shouldn't have to put out for the Donkey overlords as well."
But my mom completely missed the point. Instead of acknowledging that prostitution was illegal, not to mention the long-term damage to my emotional and mental well-being, she focused on the money.
"Honey, you're not really working for the Donkey Club if you join their escort service. They take a small set-up fee, but the commission is yours to keep. When I was doing it," she confided. "I made about five hundred per hook-up, but I hear the fee now is two to three thousand. Plus, there are so many handsome, rich men … you know, your cousin Liliane met her patron this way."
That was the other shocking revelation in all of this. Evidently, almost all the women of the Jones clan had taken a turn at the Donkey Club, including my mom, my three aunts, and my five female cousins. I'd thought my cousin Lili had met her rich boyfriend at some bar, but actually the Donkey had been the connection. It was shocking because Preston, Lili's boyfriend, was a waspy dude, someone descended from Thomas Jefferson who wore madras shorts and liked yachting in his free time. I would never have guessed that he'd been to the Donkey Club, much less hooked up with one of its strippers for a long-term relationship.
I sighed. Against this backdrop of sheer insanity my mom would never be convinced that stripping and escorting weren't right for me. But then she said something that stung my heart.
"Drake's moved on, baby," she said softly. "I know you miss him, but Drake has someone else."
I sputtered. I'd only been gone two weeks! How could my stepdad have met someone so quickly?
"You mean you?" I asked sarcastically.
But my mom didn't take offense.
"No baby," she said slowly. "We were never his only ones. Sure, we were handy because we lived in his house, but he's a male slut and has been his whole life. You know Marie? The girl who walks his dogs?"
Of course I knew Marie. We'd been somewhat friendly, Marie coming by twice a day to make sure Otis and Marlo, our German Shepherds, got their exercise. The girl was cute but not stunning. A blonde, petite, maybe twenty five with nice tits.
"Cleo," said my mom slowly. "Marie is pregnant with Drake's child. She's due in a few months."
My hand flew to my mouth. My daddy had been fucking another girl the whole time? And she'd been pregnant with his baby? My mind spun furiously. Sure, Marie was athletic looking, but I didn't recall seeing a curve to her stomach or the glow of pregnancy. She just looked normal, the same as always.
But I realized how naïve I'd been. I gasped, my heart hurting, my chin trembling despite my best efforts to look impassive.
"Honey," said Lorena slowly. "Drake wanted you to move out. He's had his fun with you and wants to fuck another woman but didn't know how to tell you. So he asked me to let you know, bring you to the Donkey to see if you could get a job. Of course," she said hastily, "he's a generous man and isn't tossing you out on your ass with nothing. He's asked me to make sure you find a nice apartment, get some decent clothes. But honey, this is not the time to come home. Marie's moved in, big as a beachball, and Drake's doting like a new dad already. He's always wanted a child, and with Marie that baby's a reality."
I was so floored that I couldn't speak. Hot tears trickled down my cheeks as I looked down at the floor. My daddy, the one I'd thought was amazing, handsome, charismatic, who cared about me, was now with another woman? I was hurt, devastated although I told myself I shouldn't be.
"Oh I see," I said quietly.
"That's it, honey, buck up," said my mom. "Try to make a good life for yourself. It's not that we don't care about you. But life is complicated, you know? With the baby on the way and everything … ."
Lorena's voice trailed off but I couldn't believe she was so callous about it all. I mean, she should have been doubly threatened with a new woman and a baby living under her nose. So trembling, I asked, "But what about you? Aren't you afraid that Drake's going to ask you to leave too?"
And Lorena laughed at that, her voice tinkling with amusement.
"Honey, I was never under any illusion that I was anything but a convenience to your stepdad. I was the maid originally, remember? Someone to vacuum his floors and suck his dick when he felt like it. So cheer up, honey," she encouraged again. "Drake's going to fund your apartment for two years while you get on your feet, and I had sex with those dolts at the Donkey Club so they'd give you a job. It was all part of the plan, okay baby? Don't worry about me, I'm going to be fine, just worry about you."
And choking back sobs, I hung up the phone. This was some fucking twisted turn of events. My mom and step-dad, they'd propelled me into a den of sin, encouraging me to bare my body, even sell it to the highest bidder. But I was determined to find my own way here on out … Drake's money be damned.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Drake
I kept thinking that Cleo would come home. Lorena's proclamations that Cleo was going to be a famous model were overblown sure, but even if she did become famous, the little girl should come home to see her parents, right? Especially a daddy who loved her.
I missed her more than I cared to admit. I've been a playboy all these years, even after my marriage. My general approach to life is that pussy is there to be fucked, so why not me? I'm pretty indiscriminate so long as she's attractive, voluptuous, and doesn't talk too much.
But something changed with Cleo. Suddenly I found it difficult to get excited about other women. Of course, my little girl and I had never promised to be exclusive, after all we'd only slept together for two weeks. But the memories were overwhelming. Cleo at sixteen, all long legs and an innocent expression. Cleo at seventeen, beginning to fill out, her body developing curves. And finally at eighteen … ripe for the picking.
Lorena tried to comfort me. Knowing that I was no longer interested in her sassy curves, she offered Marie, our dog-walker. Because yeah, there was no pretense that we were even interested in each other anymore, Lorena stays with Carlos in the pool house now while I'm holed up in the mansion.
But my wife knows her place and never neglects me for too long, instead looking for substitutes, replacements for the beautiful Cleo. What was wrong with subbing her daughter? Oh right, she's my step, we're technically related.
"Drake, you've got to let Cleo go," Lorena purred. "Cleo's got her own life, she wants to explore the world as a model, fly around and see places, meet new people. She's young, she's not going to stick around with us old fogies forever."
I snorted. Lorena and I were hardly old fogies, and I shook my head disgusted.
But the woman could read my mind.
"To her, we're old fogies," she reprimanded gently. "Anyone over thirty is ancient to Cleo, so let her spread her wings a little, see what the world has to offer. Besides, what about Marie? She's perfect," she purred. "An athletic blonde will be good for you."
I thought about Marie. She was cute, sure, in a wholesome, All-American way, tanned with freckles, a strong build. Our dogs loved her, but I just couldn't get Mr. Happy to bite.
"Nah," I said dismissively. "I'm not feeling it."
Lorena gave me a disbelieving look, startled because I was turning down free pussy. But she smiled slyly.
"How about this then?" she asked, slipping the strap of her sundress off her shoulder, baring a big jug that jumped and swayed.
I have to admit, I was tempted. I've always been a titty man and Lorena had a nice pair, bronzed with dark nipples, often leaking from some kind of hormonal imbalance. I should have figured something was up. The innocent sundress wasn't really her style, she was more of a body-hugging cocktail dress woman. But even the promise of a good suckle couldn't tempt me. I wanted pale, creamy flesh, not the brown gazongas Lorena was offering.
As if reading my mind, she tucked herself back in, hiding her boobies once again. With a flip of her hair, she sashayed away, no doubt to look for Carlos. But whatever, I wasn't interested in my own wife anymore, I just wanted her daughter to come back.
"I'm not done yet," Lorena called over her shoulder. "You can't be celibate forever."
But with the way I was missing Cleo at the moment, it sure seemed like I was destined for the life of a monk.
That night, I ate dinner alone before retreating to my study. I was looking forward to a glass or two of port, contemplating the flames of the fire, maybe beating myself off while thinking of Cleo's fine, sassy form. Heck, I could see her in my mind's eye, that creamy white pussy, the lips wrapped around my dick, throwing her head back while panting my name. Fuck yeah, I'd start a search for her tomorrow. It wouldn't be hard, there's only so far an eighteen year-old can go.