Diathesis

I write my stories with the plot emphasized over character development. There is a good reason--personal experience. I won my divorce. Custody of my children and remarrying a much, much better woman (Assets split 50/50).

However, feelings and sensations were over rated. Sure, there was some hate, shock and other negative emotions, but for the most part, I was just doing the 'part act', living one day at a time. The needs of my children and new wife far exceeded these other wasteful thoughts. Really, it was one big blur. Over all, one very pleasant blur.

Even when my plot appears unrealistic, truth can often trump fiction. But don't fret, my stories are 100% fiction, or are they?

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I was supposed to meet my wife at our favorite restaurant, Gus's. Simple food but simply divine. My 19-year-old daughter was there instead. She was our only child and quite precocious. That is parent speak for growing up too fast; outgoing; but, not too bright.

"Where's your mom?"

"In the Carribean."

"What? Last minute business?"

"No. A vacation with her boyfriend."

"What?!"

"Keep your voice down. She has been seeing my boyfriend's father for six months. She is going to divorce you and have him move in with all of us. Your big house suits that easily."

"Couldn't she tell me herself? Why send you to tell me?"

"Mom is too big a softy. I am here to tell you how this is going to go down. She will take you to the cleaners."

"Why?"

"The question is why she put up with your pathetic ass for all these years. Now she is getting satisfying sex from someone who can give her 8 inches of pleasure; multiple orgasms; and most importantly, get it up."

"What? Not that I really want to explain to my child, but I am having 'health issues'. And, she has multiple orgasms with me!"

"She has faked all her orgasms with you. Do you really think your 3-inch willy that doesn't work, is going to cut it with any woman?"

Obviously, her and her mom have had very intimate conversations and unfortunately, they weren't far off the mark. Not only was I small when soft but I was having difficulty maintaining an erection.

"I can't believe I am having this conversation with my daughter."

"Oh, that too. I'm not your biological daughter."

"Wow. Then this makes it easier to never have to talk to you."

"No worries. I will only miss not having more laughs at your expense. Good bye loser."

I didn't even say goodbye, just left without paying the bill. This was a start. No more monies from Daddy. However, I did take her water class with me. I may not be well endowed, but stupid and slow I'm not.

I needed verifiable proof she is not my daughter. DNA for paternity. As for the marriage, I would also hire a PI to get me photographic evidence of my wife's cheating.

While I was waiting for the information, I was on a emotional rollercoaster. Oscillating between love, hate, empathy and indifference for both my wife and daughter. A week later I had confirmation. Everything my daughter, wait--let me now call her Non-da, short for Non-daughter--told me was correct.

Thank goodness for my Recovery, Inc. training. One spotting term stood out--"If you can't change the event; change your attitude." So, I changed my address and moved out. I wasn't giving in; just fighting from a better base.

Now for me it broke down to contractual law. After all marriage is a contract and filial obligation now a non-consideration.

Two weeks later, my soon to be ex-wife sued me for divorce. She was asking for a ridiculous amount of my wealth. Yes, I am borderline wealthy. More like well off. And she was also asking for a large amount of spousal and child support?

My answer, after hiring an excellent family law attorney, was to do... nothing! I was in no hurry to get married again, whereas she may be having those thoughts. There was more pressure on her to get this farce over with.

I waited a month, after she would be sweating with paying some of the bills, then told my lawyer to counter sue for an annulment. It was a bit of a long shot but they didn't know that. I had evidence of: infidelity going back before our wedding; a child I did not father; and, her saying she has never had an orgasm with me. My barrister used an old, convoluted statute declaring that the marriage was not consummated. Also, that the marriage was fraudulent from the beginning.

After waiting another two months, to add more pressure, my lawyer negotiated a settlement. It was going to be a divorce after all, but they blinked. From her initial request of 80% of my assets and support, we settled for her receiving 25% and no support. Our matrimonial home would be about half of her settlement. I never wanted to step back inside anyways. I also had the reason for the divorce amended to infidelity. Not that it mattered legally, but it felt better.

I took a hit, but overall, was still well off. However, when I signed my divorce papers I had a break down of sorts. As naive as I was, I had liked being married and it was now officially gone.

Back at my office, I became a bear and extremely grumpy. I would be free in about six months, but it finally hit me. The finality of the 20+ years wasted.

Thankfully there were three high points: I was still well off; I had a good job that helped keep my mind off my personal disaster; and lastly, Jinny--my PA.

Jinny was a god send. I didn't want to bring my personal woes to work, but the day we signed the papers, I was morose.

She came into my office and asked, "What's wrong boss?"

I had held off telling anyone, partially from embarrassment, partly just trying to soldier on--stiff upper lip. Today it quivered. A few tears actually rolled down my cheeks. Jinny closed the gap and hugged me. I lay my head on her shoulder. She was a tall, beautiful, younger woman. I told her my whole distressing story. It was very cathartic.

She comforted me, "You are a great guy." Then she kissed me softly.

It made me feel better momentarily, but quickly caught myself. This was unprofessional. I straightened up, "Okay, back to work."

The odd thing was that Jinny's work now seemed to suffer. She began making simple mistakes. It got to the point where I had to mention, "Jinny, I'm not sure if my personal problems are affecting your work. You have to forget my problems and carry on like you use to do." But she kept making mistakes. Some getting more serious.

A week later I got a call from our largest customer, Ms. Mortimer. "Robert, (that's me), I think you have a serious problem with your PA. The latest quotes you sent me was for over $10,000,000."

"What? That should have been $100,000.00. She forgot the decimal place. I'm so sorry Ms. Mortimer."

"Please. After all our years together, it's Margaret. And there have been other problems with things she has sent me."

"Okay, thank you,... Ah,... Margaret. I hate to say that I probably have to let her go. She has been with me for 10 years, but these latest problems will have to be addressed. Thank you for letting me know."

After disconnecting the call, "Jinny, could you come in, please?"

A moment later she swishes into the office. This has been another problem. For the last little while, her clothes or lack thereof, have become sexier. Short skirts. Translucent blouses unbuttoned down; showing extra cleavage. Push-up bra? Not her normal business attire.

"Jinny, I had hoped my personal problems have not led to your poor performances of late but," and I had to pause to collect myself, "things have come to a head." After hesitating again, "This is the hardest thing I have ever done. I am going to have to let you go. I am so sorry."

"I suspected so boss."

"I will give you a sterling review to help your future job search."

"Thank you boss. Can I finish out the day? Say goodbye to the others?"

"Of course Jinny. I must admit you are taking this better than I imagined."

"I suspected it might happen. Thank you for being a wonderful boss. Can I give you a hug before I leave?"

"Certainly" I held out my arms and she gave me a great hug and another kiss on the lips. Very reminiscent of our other encounter when I broke down in her arms--what just two weeks ago? I felt guilty that my problems had affected her work so much.

At workday's end, Jinny popped in and said, "I was able to get Ms. Mortimer and you a business dinner meeting tonight at Chez Parise. 8pm."

"Thank you Jinny. Good luck again with your job search."

At 7:58, as I was about to enter the restaurant. In my mind I said over and over Margaret, Margaret, not Ms. Mortimer. It reminded me of my childhood best friend--Charlie Smith. His dad was always Mr. Smith to me. When I started my own company at the age of 25, Mr. Smith insisted I called him John or Jack. I couldn't. He would always remain Mr. Smith with me.

I pondered why Jinny had set this rendezvous up with Ms. Mortimer at a chic romantic restaurant. An odd place for a business meeting. Did Jinny try to set me up with Margaret. Or did Ms. Mortimer press her to set up a romantic setting. Or, had Jinny just fucked up again.

There at the candlelit table for two sat Ms. Mortimer. Oddly she was dressed in formal business apparel. Little makeup. Even her hair was pulled back. Maybe I was overblowing all this romantic nonsense. Jinny needed to get her head straight in her future endeavors.

"Good evening, Ms. Mortimer." I leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Please I insist, Margaret," she said softly.

"Yes Margaret. This is a strange place for a business meeting. But I hope you will continue as our customer."

"We would never leave you. You are always competitive and your products and service are wonderful. But now if you will excuse me, I have another meeting to attend."

"Well thank you for your continued business, ah, Margaret," I croaked slightly. "But couldn't this have been done over the phone?"

"Good question Robert but I brought a competitor to meet with you tonight."

"Oh, thank you."

"Good bye, Robert, and good luck. They might drive a hard, hard bargain."

I changed seats to face the front to see who would enter the restaurant when I heard from behind, "Sorry I'm late."

Turning, "Jinny! What are you doing here? I'm suppose to be meeting a client."

"I'm your client." She didn't dress like a customer. She looked hot. Even sexier than earlier today. Her long blonde hair cascaded down past her shoulders. She wore a LBD with emphasis on Little!

"I don't understand."

"I'm looking to be your girlfriend."

"What? I'm sorry I told you my woes. It led to your dismissal. I am a fuck up. I got you fired."

"No you didn't. I couldn't be your girlfriend if I worked for you. It's against company policy and morally unethical. Now that I was let go--no problem."

"Did you purposely set me up to fire you?"

"Possibly."

"Ms. Mortimer was just a smoke screen?"

"Yes, but I wasn't sure if Margaret had feelings for you. She said she liked you but it would be more difficult for her to make a play. Being a customer and all. She encouraged me to go for it. I owe her big time."

"Well, I'm not sure I am a good fit to be anyone's boyfriend. I'm a mess."

"True, but we are going to take this slow. I suggest one date a week. And I have other yummy ideas. Don't worry. I will go slow and at your pace."

"Well as much as I like a younger, very, beautiful girlfriend; not only am I an emotional mess from my pending divorce; I'm a physical mess--I have a small penis and have trouble maintaining an erection."

"Maybe it's not you. Do you think I am trying to be your girlfriend and drop you if you have a small penis. That's crap. It's about the motion in the ocean. How did you feel when we kissed?"

"That part is nice."

"Nice? I felt sparks."

"Will you still feel sparks if you cannot orgasm?"

"Let me teach you what I like. The biggest sex organ is your brain, followed by your heart."

So, we dated slowly. Saturday was designated date night. I would sweat profusely; hoping I wouldn't disappoint Jinny. At the end of the night, she always gave me a toe-curling hug and kiss. There were even stirrings in my pelvic region.

Some mornings she would run with me. Other mornings she would take me to her gym. Wow, watching her in those tight Lycra outfits seemed to correct whatever was wrong with my penis.

Dates progressed from: a hug and kiss; fumbling; and eventually to full make-out sessions. But any further and I felt awkward. I did not want to have her see let alone feel my small penis, rock hard as it now appeared. When we made out, always in the dark, I didn't want her to touch my genitalia.

We carried on to oral sex. But only with me going down on her. My tongue was actually longer than most and relatively talented. Too bad not all of my anatomy followed suit. She orgasmed apparently multiple times a night. But my ex faked her orgasms. Jinny probably did too.

The day my divorce became finalized, we finally had sex in the dark. I wore a condom at all times. I never climaxed. She apparently had multiple orgasms. Yeah, right.

After that first coupling, Jinny apparently had two orgasms. As she laid back she exclaimed, "Wow. That was the best I've ever had." As much as I wanted to believe her, I had my doubts. Then she shocked me when she added, "I love you."

That caught me off guard. I liked her a lot. Love? Still way too early.

I had a high end escort (Sherry) on the side to release my blue balls. After all, she didn't have to climax. That wasn't what she was getting paid to do. Plus, I didn't want to hear more faked orgasms.

Later on, Jinny told me she wanted a baby. She may be younger but being in her mid 30's, her body clock was ticking. She wanted me to take off the condom so we could procreate. I loved Jinny enough to help her have children, but I wasn't going to waste my small cock on future progeny.

My sordid idea was to bring a big black guy (Marcus--who happened to be Sherry's step brother) tag in to have sex with her. I asked him how big he was? All guys know I wasn't asking about his height or weight. "9 inches long; 3 wide," he responded. I believed him plus I didn't really want to see his junk.

When she was ovulating a week later, after I warmed her up, then Marcus snuck in. They had sex in the doggy position. Three pillows were under her stomach. It was pitch black like always. Marcus even wore my cologne. I told Marcus to not go further than half way in. That way she probably wouldn't have any chance of knowing it wasn't me.

Their sex was short. Marcus later would say, she was too tight and he couldn't last. Thankfully and amazingly she got pregnant from that first encounter.

I was going to fully support her and her baby. I went to Lamaze class with her. I would rub and kiss her slowly growing belly. There was something extra special about pregnant Jinny. She glowed and I basked in her happiness. I fell in love with her, or at least admitted it for the first time. Realistically my love probably appeared months earlier. I was just ignoring those feelings.

We married when she was six months along. I wanted the child to have married parents. It was a very small ceremony. Charlie Smith was my best man. Margaret came to the wedding and she became a close friend for the rest of our lives.

Jinny nixed my idea of a Hawaiian honeymoon. Instead, we went on an Alaskan cruise. She didn't want her 'beach ball' showing in a bathing suit.

When the baby was born, Jinny needed a C-section because of a small birth canal. Jinny was still recovering from the surgery so after the nurse cleaned her daughter, I was next to hold the little baby. The nurse placed her in the crook of my arm and her cloudy eyes tried to stare back at me. I held Dianthesis (Di or Diane for short). This was the name Jinny and I had pre-chosen. She looked at me and I thought she was questioning, 'Are you my dad?'

You couldn't help but love her. I couldn't help but love her. I spoke to her as I rocked her, "Yes, I'm your father. We may not look alike but I promise to love you and your mother all my life."

Upon entering her private room, Jinny was just coming to. I placed Di in Jinny's arms. Jinny looked. Then looked again, then back to my face which was neutral in expression. She exclaimed, "She's black!" Jinny was shocked and surprised. Of course I wasn't. I told her I had a distant grandmother who was black.

Even though it wasn't my child, I wanted to support Jinny and Di. With Marcus being hung, any male children Di would have, would probably be hung as well. Yes, even though she wasn't my biological offspring, I would be there for both her and Jinny. Nurture plus nature should improve the bloodline.

After six months Jinny wanted another baby. Great.

I couldn't persuade her to go the artificial insemination route, since Jinny wouldn't probably want to risk my dark ancestry. Or so I thought. And by the way, do the sperm clinics run tests or ask how big a guy's cock is? A good question but probably never asked and if so, wouldn't the guy lie.

She was defiant. Jinny wanted natural. "I want all you!" she declared.

I reluctantly brought Marcus in again to secretly do the deed. Would she prefer sex with him if this became more regular? I put my mind to this being the last baby we would have. At least from our married time together. Was I already thinking negative thoughts? At least last time she didn't orgasm. That gave me solace.

Again, it was short and sweet. Maybe 5 minutes again. However, this time Jinny screamed out, "Fuck it's so big! Fuck, it's so good!"

After more grunts and moans, mostly from Jinny she screamed like a Banshee, "I am going to, I am going to...C-C-Cu... Cummmmming!"

Then Marcus added, "You just squirted!"

It was torture. Her squirting climax cut me to the core. Marcus probably couldn't resist and gave all of his longer cock. I knew then we would have to divorce. She would never be satisfied with me. At least I could enforce the pre-nup and not take a financial bath. I still cared for her. I would be fair and would support Di. The potential new baby? Not so sure. I had to think on that. I really couldn't pin any blame or financial onus on her or even Marcus. Maybe abortion? Adoption?

Jinny surprised me. "I am pregnant with your son."

I laughed, "It's only been 15 minutes. Maybe you are not even pregnant?"

"I am positive and I'm positive its your son! It's going to be a boy."

I brought Marcus out from the family bathroom where he would hide and dress afterwards. "This is Marcus. He is the father of Dianthesis, and just had sex with you."

"He did not have sex with me."

"Yes, and nine months before Di was born, too. Go ahead and tell her Marcus."

Marcus smiled in what I would later learn was conspiratory, "Sorry boss (it seemed everyone liked to call me boss), but I didn't have sex with your wife this time. I never even touched her."

"Even though it was dark and hard to see, I heard the slapping of skin and Jinny's wet climax. So if you are pregnant, it will be Marcus's as well. Because you orgasmed so spectacularly, I know divorce is the only answer. You could take the morning after pill, if you don't want this baby. I will be fair in the divorce."

"Oh please, you fell for my acting skills?" Jinny then re-enacted her earlier 'climatic' screams.

"Did that sound familiar? And the morning after pill won't work. I am 3 months pregnant with your son. Here is the ultra sound," as she shoved forward a dark paper.

I glanced then proclaimed, "That's impossible! We have never had straight sex! None of my sperm entered your body. I never climaxed inside you and always wore a condom."

She continued, "I suspected something when you convinced me to name our daughter Dianthesis. Very close to Diathesis--Stress Model, which begs the question 'nature versus nurture?' And you often referred 'our' baby as 'your' baby."