It started with a surprise visitor at my office at the law firm of Marley, Kramer, Fitzpatrick and Kennedy. I had just returned from lunch when my secretary, Gina, told me that a woman, who didn’t have an appointment was waiting to see me. Gina had asked what the woman wanted to see me about and the woman had said it was personal. Gina then told her I didn’t see personal acquaintances at my office, that she should try and get me at home. The woman told Gina she didn’t know my phone number or address which made Gina ask how she knew me. The woman said, that was why she needed to see me. Which confused both Gina and me. Gina said the woman had identified herself as Kara Barnes. I had no memory of ever meeting anyone named Kara Barnes. Gina told me that Ms. Barnes promised our meeting would take only a few minutes. Since I had almost twenty minutes before my next appointment, I told Gina to let the woman in.

Kara Barnes was a very pretty young woman standing five feet six inches tall with long shiny brown hair. She had an egg-shaped face that narrowed slightly almost coming to a point at her chin. She had big, brown, sad, puppy dog-like eyes, a short but wide nose, thin lips with small, sparkling white teeth and perfectly alabaster skin. She had a long, skinny neck and narrow shoulders. She was petite all the way around. Her breasts were just large enough to give her womanly curves, maybe a B-cup. She had long skinny arms, a flat belly, a cute little butt and long skinny legs. I found her attractive as soon as she walked into my office. She was almost a living definition of my perfect woman, physically speaking anyway. I couldn’t help but think “I wish I did know this woman.”

“Ms. Barnes,” I said, standing up and holding my hand out across my desk. “I’m Brock Stephens.”

“Hello,” She said, smiling shyly as she shook my hand.

“Please have a seat. Would you like a drink? I can offer you some coffee, tea, water, maybe a soda?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” She said as she took the offered seat in front of my desk.

“Thank you, Gina. Close the door please.” Gina nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

I took my seat and got comfortable. “So Ms. Barnes, what did you wish to see me about?”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asked, smiling so I knew she wasn’t too insulted by me forgetting her.

“No, Ms. Barnes. I’m sorry but I don’t have any recall of hearing your name, or meeting you, prior to this moment. Have we met before? If so, where and when?”

“It was at The Venus Club. About two months ago. Don’t worry, I’m not offended that you don’t remember me. In fact, as drunk as you were that night, I’d be surprised if you did remember me.”

“The Venus Club? I’ve only been there ... Twice,” I said after a moment’s consideration. “It’s not really my type of place. My sister goes there a lot. The last time I was there ... Yeah, I guess it was about two months ago. My sister got engaged and her and her fiancee held their engagement party there.”

Ms. Barnes smiled and nodded knowingly. “Your sister’s name is Elisabeth, with an s, not a z. She hates being called Elisabeth though, so she goes by Lisa. I believe you said her fiancee’s name was Paul something. I don’t remember the name, but it sounds Hispanic.” My eyes got wide in surprise. “Yes, Mr. Barnes, that was the night we met. I was there with friends. You came over and asked me to dance and we hit it off. You were already pretty well lit by the time you came over. While we danced, you told me that I was the living embodiment of your perfect woman.” My face must have gone pale at this. I had, after all, thought exactly that, when she’d come into my office. “We went to a nearby motel and spent the night there, together. Do you remember waking up there the next morning?”

I nodded. I did remember waking up the next morning beside some strange woman with long brown hair. I had slipped out of bed, dressed and left without waking her. I couldn’t swear that it was Kara Barnes in that bed with me but I also couldn’t swear that it wasn’t. I never looked at her face that morning. She had her back to me when I woke up and her long hair hid what little of her face I might have seen. I had slipped away without even asking her name.

“Okay, Ms. Barnes, I’ll agree that it’s likely we have met before and I was too drunk to remember. Why...”

“Why have I come to see you here and now?” She asked. I nodded. “The night we met, I was upset. I was ... vulnerable. I’m not blaming you, Mr. Stephens. I’m not making any accusations. I’m explaining. I needed company and I didn’t much care who it was. We didn’t talk much. We told each other our first names, you told me you were there for your sister’s engagement party, you introduced me to her very quickly and then we went off to dance and spent most of the rest of the night, trying to rip each others clothes off without using our hands.

“At about one o’clock, your sister’s party broke up and you asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and grind our bodies together some more. I was all for it. We got maybe a half mile down the street before we couldn’t take it anymore. We checked into that little motel, you paid for a room, we got into the room, ripped off our clothes, you threw me on the bed and proceeded to fuck the shit out of me, which I very much enjoyed, then you held me and rubbed my breast as I fell asleep. You remember none of it?”

“No. I’m sorry, I don’t.”

She smiled. “You didn’t ask then, or now, why I was so upset. Why I was vulnerable that night.” I was about to speak. She held up her hand. “Again, I’m not accusing. Just telling the story. My husband had just left me a few days before hand. I’m a devout Catholic, Mr. Stephens. A hard core, devout Catholic. My entire family is. We don’t believe in divorce. We believe marriage is forever. So you can imagine how devastated I was at the time. My husband had left me. He packed up and moved out one day while I was at work. He didn’t leave a forwarding address, a phone number, no way for me to find him or contact him. He left a small note, taped the fridge. The note read ‘I can’t be married to someone who can’t give me children.’

“Like me, my now ex-husband, is a very devout Catholic. The Catholic church believes married couples should go out and procreate. Josh, my ex, and I tried for three years to get me pregnant. We went to doctors, spent thousands on fertility experts, tests, drugs, vitamins, the whole routine.” She looked down at the floor and a tear rolled down her cheek. “The doctors could never say why I didn’t get pregnant. Their tests said Josh and I were both perfectly healthy. There was no medical reason I wasn’t pregnant. Josh blamed me. He decided it was my fault. It didn’t matter to him that the doctors said I was healthy. He decided it was completely my fault. He told me this for months before he left. That I wasn’t able to give him children. I guess he finally convinced himself he was right. He left. I guess he had convinced me too.”

She looked up at me, sniffled, wiped a tear from her cheek and looked me in the eyes. “It wasn’t me, Mr. Stephens. I know that now. I know that because you were the first and only man I’ve been with since Josh left me. I’m carrying your baby.” She put her hand on her belly. My mouth fell open and I sat there in shock. “There’s no doubt it’s your baby. The timing is perfect. Josh left me nine days after my last menstrual cycle. I went out with friends, got drunk and met you four days later. It was exactly halfway into my cycle. My most fertile time. I had no reason to be on birth control.” She shrugged. “You were much too drunk to think about condoms. I would have told you not to bother even if you had. I don’t blame you, Mr. Stephens. I’m actually thrilled at the idea of having a baby.” She smiled.

“So, why are you here?”

She laughed. “I didn’t even know who you were until I picked up the paper yesterday morning. All I knew, was your first name was Brock. Then there you were, splashed across the metro section, standing in front of some local woman’s group, announcing your intention to run for State Attorney General. I decided maybe we could help each other.”

“How?”

“I was, and still am, perfectly willing to take the consequences for my actions. I’m a teacher, Mr. Stephens. I teach at Our Lady of Mercy here in town. As I’m sure you know, it’s a Catholic school. When I was hired, I had to sign a contract saying I would work for the school, and the church, for a minimum of five years. In that contract, was a morals clause. You being an attorney, I’m sure you can guess where this is going. They will fire me, and probably excommunicate me, when they find out I’ve become pregnant outside of marriage. They tried to fire me when my husband left me. Since my husband abandon me though, they didn’t have grounds.” She laughed. “This time, it’s all on me. Then I saw you in the paper.”

“I’m still not clear on where this is going, Ms. Barnes.”

“It’s really simple, Mr. Stephens. I like my job. I don’t want to lose it. I’m willing, if it means keeping my baby, but I would rather not.”

“And?” I said. I was pretty sure I could see where this was going but I wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. I was patient. I’d let her finish.

“When I learned who you were yesterday morning, I did some research. Everyone seems to love you. The papers seem to think you’re the greatest thing to hit this state since sliced bread. I saw the same criticism of you come up time and time again though.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. It was always the same thing. They loved my stand on crime, on prisons, on rehab, on capital punishment, they wanted me to be the attorney general, then governor, then maybe go to the Senate and, there were even a few, predicting me running for president in a few years time. I wasn’t sure I wanted the job but it was flattering nonetheless. The one critique that kept coming up was the wild oats I can’t seem to stop sewing. Every week, they say, a picture of me with a different hotty shows up. Everyone said, that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to settle down. No bachelor playboy was going to get elected governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia. “They want me to get married.”

“Yep. They want you to get married. I’m not going to have an abortion, Mr. Stephens. It isn’t going to happen. When I lose my job, and I will, probably in the next month or so, I’m going to need help with my rent, with medical bills. I’m willing to do what I can to keep you out of it but...”

“You want money?”

“Mr. Stephens,” She said seriously. “I need help!”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then, Mr. Stephens, if you become obstinate about it, I will take you to court, have DNA testing done to prove this child is yours and sue you for the child support you know you owe me. I’m quite sure filing court documents will lead to this all coming out in the press and your chances of getting elected go down the drain. Virginia is still a mostly red state. We like our elected officials to be a bit more conservative, as I’m sure you know.”

I nodded. She was right. If this came out, my chances of becoming State Attorney General were gone. She stood up and smiled at me.

“I’m not going to make you make a decision right this minute, Mr. Stephens. Here’s my name, address, phone number and e-mail. I do need to know your decision in the next few days. There’s a lot that needs to be arranged.” She turned and headed for the door. At the door, she stopped and turned back. “I’m not sorry I’ve gotten pregnant. I’ve always wanted a baby and while this isn’t exactly how I pictured it happening, I am tickled pink it’s happened. I am sorry to put you in such a tough position though. Like I said, this isn’t how I imagined finding out I was pregnant.” I nodded in understanding. “Have a nice day, Mr. Stephens.” She turned, opened the door and left.

I sat there for a few minutes letting everything soak in and pulling myself together. Then called Gina and asked if my next appointment had arrived yet. Right then, there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation. I had a job to do. I pushed thoughts of Kara, her sexy body and the baby growing inside her to the back of my mind and turned my attention to those things I could deal with right then.

I let what Ms. Barnes had said simmer for a few days. I let the various ideas percolate in the back my mind. Laying in bed, in the dark, I went through the pros and cons of each idea. Telling her to go screw herself and probably losing any chance of elected office for at least ten years or more. Giving her a lump sum and hope nobody noticed and that she stayed quiet. Doing the right thing and paying her the child support she needs, wants and deserves and then there were the “Nuclear Options.”

Those options so big, so out there, that they barely deserved a thought. Hiring someone to kill Ms. Barnes and the baby and hope it never came back to me and of course, just being done with it and doing what she had hinted at - Doing the right and proper thing - Marrying her. That last one had been stuck in my head ever since she left my office. It was drastic, granted. But it was the right thing to do. It was the proper thing to do. It’s what Marshall Matt Dillon, Charles Ingalls, Sheriff Andy Taylor and Clark Kent would have done. It was the honorable thing to do. It was also the one idea that would aide both Kara and me. She would keep her job and I would stop being the “bachelor playboy.” I’d have a wife, a kid. I’d be settled. Everyone was telling me marriage and a family would only help my chances.

She was a devout Catholic from a good family and a teacher. She’s attractive, articulate, intelligent and just my type. I could see her on my arm as we walked into the Governor’s mansion. Yeah, I could see that. I could see us together. Maybe even forever. I waited until Friday night to call her.

“Hello.”

“Ms. Barnes,” I still wasn’t comfortable calling her Kara. Something I would have to get over and get over quickly if my plan was going to work. “This is Brock Stephens.”

“What can I do for you?” She asked.

“I was hoping we could get together sometime this weekend and talk about our futures.”

“Of course. Just tell me when and where.”

“I hope it’s okay with you but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come to my place, or for me to come to yours. I think we need to meet somewhere we won’t draw any attention.”

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Stephens. You don’t have to explain. You’re not going to offend me. Where and when?”

“Do you know Alexandria?”

“Somewhat, yes.”

“There’s a hotel. The Courtyard By Marriott. It’s just off 95 in Alexandria. I’d like you to meet me there. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for everything. I just want to talk.”

“Mr. Stephens, it’s a little late for me to worry about your intentions, isn’t it?”

We both laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. So will you meet me tomorrow evening. About six?”

“Okay. I’ll get the address off the net and GPS will make sure I don’t get lost. Should I bring an overnight bag?”

I was somewhat surprised. “Uhhh.”

“We’ve already had sex. It’s not like you can get me pregnant again.” I had no idea what to say. It was the first time since law school that I was speechless. After a moment, she said, “I’ll bring a bag and we’ll decide then. I’ll see you tomorrow at six.”

“I’ll meet you in the bar. We’ll go up together.”

“Sounds good. Good night.”

“Good night.” I hung up and sat there, slightly stunned at how the conversation had gone.

She was right. It’s not like we hadn’t done it before. Our previous meeting was why we were meeting, after all. I had no idea if she’d had sex since that night. As I thought about it more, it started to sound like a better and better idea. I didn’t remember our first time together. It would be nice to see what she was like ... sexually, before making the final decision on how to deal with the situation. This would also give us a chance to get to know each other. I certainly wasn’t going to marry the woman if we didn’t like each other, sober, no matter how good she was in bed.

I called Gina at home and asked her to call the hotel and reserve a room for me in her name. Gina was always a team player and could be relied on to keep her mouth shut. She’d used her own private credit card and I would make sure it was covered. This way, my name wasn’t involved. There was no possibility of my, apparent tryst making it into the newspapers. And, even better, there would be no way of linking Kara and I to the hotel.

Gina did as requested and reserved the room in her name. The next evening, I went to the desk, gave her name and they gave me the room key without question. I went to the bar and ordered myself a drink and waited. I’d made sure to get there early so I didn’t expect Kara for another ten to fifteen minutes. I was just finishing that first drink when she came in.

It was summer and had been warm all week. She was wearing a short black dress with no sleeves, just a few strings went up over her shoulders and tied behind her neck. The dress didn’t show any cleavage at all but emphasized her breasts and flat belly wonderfully. The dress was cut short on the bottom and did wonderful things for her shapely legs, as did the white tights and black shoes with four inch heels.

She stopped at the entrance to the lounge and looked around. She smiled when she saw me, gave a little wave, then sauntered over. She had a blue and gray backpack in one hand. She dropped the backpack beside me, then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. I was a little surprised by her greeting but managed to return the hug and kissed her cheek back.

“So, do you want to have a drink or should we just...”

“I don’t usually drink so...”

I nodded, gulped down the last drops of my drink, then stood up. I picked up the back pack she had brought with her, took her hand and led her out of the dark bar. Once out in the well lit corridor I took another look at her, looking her up and down. “You look incredible. You didn’t need to dress up though,” I said, feeling a little under dressed in just my white shirt and gray slacks.

“I wanted you to see what you were dealing with,” she told me. “Plus, I like dressing up. Do we need to check in?”

“Already done,” I said and showed her the key card I had in my shirt pocket. I led her to the elevators and pressed the button to call a car. “You really do look ... Damn!”

Kara chuckled at my reaction. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around my neck again and leaned in. I saw what was coming, put my hands on her hips, tilted my head a little to the right, closed my eyes and our lips met. I hadn’t had a kiss like that in many, many years. I’m talking fireworks! The last time that had happened to me, I was a junior in high school and kissing Maryanne Philbrick, while sitting in my parent’s car in front of her house. Maryanne and I wound up dating for the next two years until we ended it, amiably. We both agreed that we couldn’t maintain a relationship with us at different colleges, on different coasts. I saw Maryanne one last time during the summer between our freshman and sophomore years. We picked up right where we had left off for about two months then broke up again and went back to our separate universities. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened and our lips parted. We stood there, staring into each others eyes for a moment, then we both stepped back. I took her hand and led her into the elevator. I pressed the button to take us to the eighth floor, the top floor, then turned to her. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I mentioned this idea.”

She smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I just wanted to talk; discuss our options.”

“Is there some reason we can’t do that and this too?”

“No,” I said, agreeing with her immediately. “I guess I just didn’t expect you to be so willing.”

She smiled. “You figured, devoted Catholic school teacher and all that. Figured I was one of those stick-up-the-ass types who didn’t believe in sex before marriage and all that?”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of how you came across the other day in my office.”

“It’s not me. It’s the stereotype. The only way to get around the stereotype is by dressing like this,” she said, spreading her arms and showing off her scantily clad body. “As for sex before marriage, I did that once. I saved myself for Josh for twenty-one years. You see where that got me, right? I haven’t been a virgin for almost four years. What am I supposed to save now?”

I had to admit, she had a point. She’d played by their rules. She’d given her virginity to her husband, or so she claimed and she had no reason to lie now. Now that she was no longer a virgin, I wasn’t sure what the rule was. Obviously getting pregnant outside of marriage was frowned upon, otherwise, we wouldn’t have been where we were but I wasn’t sure what the Pope’s stand on sex before marriage was after you’d already been married and divorced. I guess I was finding out first hand.

She stepped up and pressed herself against me. I was getting to very much enjoy the feel of her body pressed against mine. I kept hold of her right hand and wrapped it around behind her, putting it and both of my hands on her firm little ass and pulling her even more tightly against me as she wrapped her other arm around my neck. My eyes closed and our lips met again. I pushed my tongue forward and her lips parted and invited me inside. I was more than happy to oblige. My cock stiffened in my pants and pressed into her hip as our tongues wrestled to see who got to explore the others mouth first. She moaned into my mouth and I groaned into hers. Then the elevator dinged and stopped abruptly.

We were pulled apart by the sudden stop of the elevator. As it turned out, it was a good thing. There was an elderly couple waiting when the elevator doors opened. Kara stepped back and turned around and we slipped out of the elevator as the elderly couple stepped on. I led Kara down the hall to our room. I used the key card to open the door and we went inside.

I let Kara in first. I turned on the lights then turned and put the “Privacy please” sign out and closed and locked the door. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen but if what I thought was going to happen, happened, I wanted to be ready and I didn’t want to have to get up to lock the doors and I certainly didn’t want to have a housekeeper walk in on us the next morning.

Gina had been her usual organized self and had gotten me a suite, even though I only asked for a room. It was a two room suite with a living room and a separate bedroom.

When I turned around, Kara was standing by the couch, her dress was now laid over the back of the couch, and she stood there in nothing but her white tights, four inch heels and a smile. I stopped and allowed my eyes to take her in.

She was a beautiful sight. Her skin was perfect. She had a narrow, little hourglass shape with small-to-medium sized breasts and rounded hips made for pushing out babies. Her pussy was small and shaven except for one small thin line right up the middle, pointing the way to her most private place. I inhaled and could smell her arousal even though we had just gotten there and she was still six to eight feet away.

“Oh God, you’re beautiful,” I said as we both moved forward. When we came together, I almost expected to hear the crash of metal or drums or something. Maybe thunder and lightning or fireworks. Something dramatic.