Doc and the Porn Star Ch. 16-21 - End

Jasmine was very fidgety, and I figured I'd embarrassed her about her family. I had a few cousins, an older aunt, and some friends that I could invite, but if we were keeping it small and intimate I didn't feel any need to invite them.

Jasmine told me she wanted to think about a date or circumstance regarding a wedding. Our conversation was short and left me feeling strange about how she responded. I'd let things drift for a few days.

The following week I would describe Jasmine as clingy. She wanted to snuggle and touch a lot, and when we went to bed she had to have sex, pledge her love to me, and then try to keep my dick inside her pussy as we both drifted off to sleep. I didn't question things, mostly because I was busy at work with some tough cases we were trying to diagnose and my brain was focused on those.

We were in the bar at the Yacht Club having 'pub grub' on one of the nights when the main dining room was closed when things kind of took a peculiar turn. Herb and Marion Wallace had also eaten bar food, and stopped by the table as they were leaving.

Marion studied Jasmine's ring. She then asked, "Have you two set a date for the wedding yet?"

I thought the question was predictable and one we should have a ready answer for, at least since I gave her the ring, so I looked at Jasmine waiting to hear her response. I'd asked her and she'd pushed me off.

Jasmine paled and just said, "We haven't picked a date yet."

Marion turned to me and said, "Well, don't wait too long. You need to corral this gorgeous girl so she doesn't get away from you."

I teased, "Maybe she's having second thoughts. I am getting on in years."

Jasmine looked horrified. "I would never change my mind about you, but you might change your mind about me." Her tone was serious and to me, raised all sorts of questions about why she'd ever said what she did.

Herb and Marion left and the two of us were silent. Jasmine simply said, "Don't say anything until we get home, please."

I settled up our bar bill and we walked home in silence. I was thinking that something was seriously wrong and that Jasmine was about to break our engagement in some way. I tried to guess what might have happened, but we were together so much. Even if she'd found a new guy to have sex with I wouldn't be upset; that was part of her makeup.

We got into the house and headed for the patio with Jasmine leading the way. Once on the patio, she stripped away all of her clothes and went into the pool. I followed along. She came into my arms after I was in far enough. She pressed her nude body against mine and looked into my eyes in the dim light. "I love you," she said with great sincerity.

When we got out I got us both nightcaps, and we sat in patio chairs at one of the tables, Jasmine on one side and me on the other.

Tears started to roll down Jasmine's face, and then she got emotional and her face scrunched up as she began to sob. I started to get up to comfort her, but she held one hand up in a 'Stop' gesture, so I sat and leaned towards her. "What's wrong?" I asked.

Jasmine took the engagement ring off her finger. It was the first time I'd seen her without it since I put it on her finger. She put the ring in the middle of the table, and sobbed. Tears started running down my face.

"Why?" I asked her.

She sobbed, "Because I'm not worthy of you."

I shook my head, "That's for me to decide. I love you. I want you in my life for the rest of time. I want to marry you. In some ways, I feel we are married."

She cried, "I know. I do, too. I love you so. I don't want to lose you, but I feel I must do this for you."

"What are you talking about?"

She wailed, "I've kept secrets from you. I didn't even know how to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"That I'm a whore."

I shrugged, "Not to me, you're not. What do you mean?"

Jasmine squeaked, "Before I left California and met you, I worked for an escort service. I fucked guys for money, and on a pretty regular basis. I also told you that I'd been a waitress; well most of the jobs were in a strip clubs. I stripped for guys and gave lap dances. If they propositioned me, I'd blow 'em or fuck 'em, sometimes even in a backroom at the strip joint and then I'd go back on stage and do it all over again that night, and every night."

I was crying, "Do you want to go back and do that?"

"Noooooo!" she wailed. "But I'm just scum. There's more."

"More?" I asked.

"I was a druggie. I was into some heavy stuff, too: crack cocaine and heroin. I eventually stopped; it was hard. I'd fuck guys, even do a gangbang, just so they'd give me the drugs and help me get high. I was a drug slut." She burst into a crying jag that lasted nearly five minutes. I looked from her to the ring on the table. Every time I made an effort to go to her, she'd gesture me back to my chair.

Everything she told me ran through my mind.

Jasmine finally sobbed, "I'll pack my stuff in the morning and leave. I have some money you made me save. I'll use that to get a car. I'll be all right." She stood, her beautiful nude body still wet with the pool water.

I stood, moved in front of her, and tried to tower above her. I spoke harshly, "You'll do no such thing!"

My authoritative stance made her hesitate and look up. She mumbled, "What?" Even in the dim light I could see here face was a mess with tears and a runny nose.

I took her by her shoulders and pushed downward, "You will stay right where you are. Sit!" For a second, I thought about how my command sounded like something one would say to a stubborn dog.

Jasmine sank into her chair sniffing and slobbering, but looking at me with questioning eyes. I think she might have been slightly scared of me. I'd never been truly assertive with her.

I tried to speak firmly and deliberately to her. "One of the hallmarks of a good relationship is tolerance and forgiveness. I forgive you all of those transgressions, if that's what you think they were. Those are behind you.

"When I think about you having done so many pornographic films I understood that career, if you will, was one with all sorts of accompanying activities. None of what you just told me seems like new, unexpected, or horrifying news. You were in the sex industry. Of course, you had sex on and off stage for money. Whether you were an escort or street whore is just the implementation mechanism and job titles – some kinder than others. I know that industry is rife with drug use; I just didn't think to ask about your level of participation."

Jasmine cried, "I participated a lot."

"Was it fun? Why did you stop?"

"I'd make money doing the films and fucking guys, and use it on drugs. Somehow I remembered to eat occasionally. I got kicked out of my apartment, and that's when I learned I could sleep in my car or with one of my tricks."

I speculated, "So, you came to Florida to start over?"

"Yes, and I met you on my second day here ... and you were so nice. I fell in love with you right away, but I thought you were vulnerable from losing your wife so I held off saying anything. I stuck around, but I tried not to be a sponge. I really do plan to pay you back all of the money you spent on me. I still keep track." She sobbed again.

I tried to massage her neck, and I leaned down and kissed the side of her face, wet with tears. I said firmly, "Jasmine, I don't care! I DON'T CARE!"

Jasmine was still crying but tried to insist, "But you should care. Some day soon just like you recognized me in the grocery store somebody you know will learn about my past and you'll be injured in the shit storm that will happen."

I said firmly, "Anybody that doesn't accept you as who you are or who you were is not my friend and I don't care about their discoveries or judgments or attitudes."

Jasmine sniffled, "What about that couple earlier – Herb and Marion; how long have you known them?"

I responded, "About twenty years."

"What if they found out?"

"Let's tell them and see what they think."

"Huh?"

"Let's see if they are as morally repulsed by what they discover about your past as you think they are. If they are, I never need to talk to them again. If they don't care, then it really becomes a 'So what?' question about them. I won't interact with them in any different way than I do now."

"I don't want them to know," Jasmine said.

I sat beside her and held her hand. "Jasmine, everybody has secrets they don't want others to know about. Take Herb, for example. He was an infantry guy in the Army in Viet Nam when he was younger. One night years ago he'd been drinking and told me he did some really bad things as a soldier, things that involved killing other people – innocent people that included women and children. He told me he still wakes up screaming and begging for forgiveness over what he did. I don't think anybody else around here knows that, but you and I, and I suspect Marion. Compare that to fucking a few people or being high on coke. What you did was trivial."

Jasmine looked at me but tears kept rolling down her cheeks.

"You remember Babs that you met a few weeks ago at the Club. She told me she sinned when she had an abortion as a young woman. Later, she slept around on her husband, who still loves her despite her infidelity. I don't think he knows that I know about her background, but I do. I don't care about what she did, I still like her, although she does chatter a lot." I smiled and tried to laugh at the slight. It was hard to do because I'd been crying.

Jasmine said, "But I did it for years."

"And now you're not doing it," I pointed out.

"But I might back slide," she countered.

"Do you think the sex with have the our friends is you back sliding?"

Jasmine thought about it. "No, I think, although ... maybe ... I don't know."

I asked, "Was Jerry part of the drug scene, or Shelly, or Brent, Pete, and the other guys on the crew?"

She shook her head. "No. Jerry won't use druggies, or at least we have to hide it from him. If we were working for him we stayed pretty clean. Some of the other production companies don't care so long as you look good fucking on camera." The topic had lifted Jasmine up slightly from the crying jag she'd been on.

I asked her, "Do you think you can believe me when I say I don't care about your past? As I indicated, I figured you'd done some of that stuff – maybe all that stuff – just based on what you told me the first day we met."

Jasmine looked me in the eye for a long time. If I had to guess, I think she was trying to read what was deep in my soul about her and about all she'd done. I didn't speak, but just held both of her hands in mine and looked at her beautiful face, hoping she'd come around.

Eventually, she said in a choked up voice, "I guess so. I still don't feel so worthy of being with someone like you. You're so nice."

"Thank you. Now, if you 'guess so' then I'll take that as a 'Yes' that you still are willing to be my fiancée. In that case, I'd like to put this ring back on your finger. Before I do are there any other confessions, admissions, revelations, disclosures, or pleas of any kind that you are holding back?"

Jasmine sobbed again and said, "Nooooo! I love you sooooo!"

I picked up the ring from where she'd placed it on the table and slowly placed the diamonds back on her left ring finger. Jasmine cried, but I thought they were more tears of happiness than the loss she felt a few minutes earlier. I hugged her naked body to mine.

The wedding ceremony took place on the aft deck of theParadigm Shift. The bride looked spectacular and walked to the boat from the Yacht Club escorted by Jason, the next oldest man than me in our group of friends.

In front of them came the procession of bridesmaids and groomsmen: Alan and my son's wife Megan; Ryan and his wife Ann; Jake and Chloe; Barry and Haley; Steve, Cindy, and Robin; Tom and Helen and Nancy; Scott and Yuan; and last Phil – my son and best man, and Beth – Jasmine's Matron of Honor.

I was waiting on the deck with the minister. We arrayed ourselves in a rough circle open in one quadrant for the bride. When the time came, Jasmine appeared and walked herself from the Club to the boat holding Jason's arm for stability. She looked beautiful in a three-quarter length A-line princess wedding dress. The dress showed lots of cleavage, just as she intended.

Phil helped her aboard since the gangplank was tilted due to the tide and the bride wore open-toed heels – not exactly boat shoes. Of course, the bridesmaids also wore matching shoes and complementary dresses.

Jasmine and I both had smiles a mile wide. I had no misgivings about what I was doing, and I'd finally convinced Jasmine that what was past was past. We had a new and great future ahead of us. I'd even gotten her one of those corny inspirational mini-posters and framed it that said, 'Today is the first day of the rest of your life'. She had it hung over her desk.

The ceremony went off like clockwork with the vows Jasmine and I had written. We put in a lot of stuff about loving each other and loving ourselves. We also struck the traditional line about forsaking all others since we'd agreed to continue the loving group sex we'd engaged in for over a year with our close friends. Further, we agreed that the start of our honeymoon should be a sexual celebration with all of our friends.

About fifty people from the Yacht Club watched the ceremony from the upper deck of the Club. They couldn't exactly hear the words but they could watch all of us and see all of our smiles. The minister, Jasmine, and I did use microphones so a few of our words carried.

Finally, I got to kiss the bride and tell her as I hugged her that I loved her truly, madly, deeply. She told me much the same thing. A loud cheer went up from our friends and from those along the railing at the club.

The minister left the boat after we all chatted for a few minutes, just standing around on the deck. All my able-bodied deck hands then helped untie the yacht, and I took the helm. We slowly backed out of the slip, as usual, and then turned using the bow thrusters until we were aimed into the channel and then the yacht headed for a New Year's Eve and Weekend cruise in the Gulf of Mexico. None of us had to be back on land for four days.

Once we were in the Gulf, the bride and bridesmaids all went below deck and changed clothes. Well, a better description might be to say they got rid of their pretty dresses and reappeared nude. The men were a little more circumspect and at least reappeared in athletic shorts or bathing suits when it was their time.

Phil took the helm, and Jasmine and I went below deck to officially consummate our union. We were laughing and getting all sorts of advice and naughty comments from all our friends. Of course, all the men were feeling up the bride and doing lusty things to feel, taste, and smell her sexual aromas. They told me they had to check her out to be sure she was ready for her new husband.

Jasmine and I took our time. We were gone over an hour, and then even took a shower so we arrived back topside ready for the rest of our lives.

Oh, did I mention the gentle swell to Jasmine's tummy. She had been with child for three months, a point that amused my sons and daughters-in-law, and that made me exceptionally proud. It was mine, so I'd become a daddy for the third time. Jasmine had an ultrasound a few days before the wedding. She had already decided that we'd name our daughter Edie.

Well, everybody, that was Doc's (my Dad's) story up until about two years ago. Edie is now almost two years old, the apple of their eye and, hard for me to take, my half-sister. Jasmine is expecting again. Jake moved up to become a resident physician at the hospital. Alan became an attending trauma surgeon. Scott is our OB/GYN doctor of choice. Jasmine has one more year in her nursing program along with her best buddy Beth. Yuan is about in the same situation, except she and Scott had a beautiful baby boy together. Chloe is a senior about to graduate with honors in computer science.

Barry and Haley are still a couple and still hang out with us. Both graduated and got jobs nearby. Neither wanted to leave our little community. They're living together.

My wife Megan and sister-in-law Ann have made quarterly trips to L.A. to do some more films with Jerry and his production company. Ryan and I happen to love our new lifestyle and we continue to swap on a routine basis. We also visit Doc and Jasmine often.

Steve and Cindy moved to Sarasota. Steve ended up joining the partnership where my dad works part time. Cindy was able to convert her job to a telecommuting claims processor post. Nancy, Tom, and Helen are frequent visitors to Florida, so are also part of the circle of intimate friends. Jason and Robin are also around all the time on weekends.

Lastly, Herb Wallace hinted to my dad one day at the Club that a certain "'new wife who'd moved to the city from L.A.' and married an 'older Yacht Club member' had been outstanding in her erotic career". He'd laughed and then made a motion of zipping his lips together to communicate that he'd never speak of the matter again. He was smiling as he left my dad.

As for Jasmine, she still does an occasional video. Turned out there was quite a market for 'pregnant MILFs' that look as hot as she does, so she's made some more money by playing that card. Oh yes, my dad finally let her put the money she'd saved into their joint account. She thinks she'll never really pay him back but now it's a moot point.

Doc and Jasmine read through this story and hope you enjoyed it. If you get to Sarasota you'll have to look them up. They said to come visit on a Saturday when everybody is at the house, but you should be prepared for the promiscuous conduct of everyone.

Best regards,

Phil