MidReal Story
Whirlwind of Secrets: Trump and Stormy's Scandal
Scenario: A Stormy Encounter: The Story of Trump and an Adult StarThe first encounter between Donald Trump and Stormy Daniels took place in 2006, at a golf tournament by the scenic Lake Tahoe. Trump was already 60 at the time, while Stormy was only 27. "I didn't know his exact age, but I knew he was definitely older than my father," she recalled. Trump hadn't yet entered politics, but he was already a well-known figure in American entertainment. As a wealthy real estate mogul, he hosted "The Apprentice" and was instantly recognizable to Stormy when she saw him.When Trump learned that Stormy was also a film producer in addition to her work as an adult star, he expressed admiration for her intelligence. He even told her that her sharp mind and flowing blonde hair reminded him of his daughter.Responding to his invitation, Stormy made her way to the penthouse suite of the hotel. She was greeted by Trump, who was wearing luxurious silk pajamas. The suite was three times larger than her apartment, and she was amazed by its size. Initially, their conversation was lively and engaging. She was pleasantly surprised by his interest in the business side of her industry. "Most people only know me for my sensual side, but he asked serious questions like whether the adult industry had unions."After freshening up in the bathroom, Stormy returned to find Trump lying on the bed, dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, waiting for her. She was taken aback but didn't hesitate to confirm that they were indeed intimate that night, although the encounter was brief. She couldn't remember if she had even fully undressed, "It was like a whirlwind," she described. Afterward, she was so nervous that her hands shook as she slipped on her golden high heels and left the room. Trump asked her to "stay in touch."Further Meetings and a ProposalTrump and Stormy met again later, with Trump inviting her to appear on "The Apprentice." Despite her reluctance, given her profession, she eventually met him in Los Angeles. During this meeting, Stormy refused Trump's advances for another intimate encounter. Following this, Trump retracted his offer for her to appear on the show, effectively ending their relationship.The Settlement OfferIn October 2016, Trump's personal lawyer, Michael Cohen, offered Stormy Daniels $130,000 in exchange for her silence regarding the affair. Stormy was more than willing to accept. "I didn't ask for the money or suggest the figure. I just didn't want my then-husband finding out about this old story," she confessed.When questioned by Trump's attorney, Susan Necheles, in court if she intended to send Trump to prison, Stormy replied, "I just want him to be held accountable."
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The first time I met Donald Trump was at a golf tournament he hosted in Lake Tahoe in July 2006.
I was there as a golfer, not as an adult-film star, although I had co-produced a few adult films by that time.
At the tournament, I was partnered with a friend of mine, who was also my caddie.
We were there to get drunk and have fun, and we dressed accordingly—in matching miniskirts and tight tops.
We stood out like a sore thumb and knew it.
I was twenty-seven years old, and Trump was sixty.
When he approached me on the course that day, I had no idea who he was.
But I knew he must be someone important.
He was surrounded by a slew of men—bodyguards and assistants—who were looking at me strangely.
Trump himself looked bored.
He didn’t say much, but he smiled at me politely.
When I shook his hand, his bodyguard told me that his boss wanted to meet me later.
I said sure, why not?
I had no idea who this guy was, but he was certainly rich enough to be interesting.
When we met later in the hotel penthouse where he was staying, I was more than a little surprised to learn that this man with bad hair and expensive clothes was a reality-TV star.
I’d seen Trump on “The Apprentice” a few times, but reality TV wasn’t really my thing, so it didn’t make much of an impression on me.
I also knew him as the owner of Miss Universe, an organization I’d been trying to get work through for years as an adult-film star.
His bodyguard had told me that Trump wanted to meet me personally because he thought I was beautiful and special.
That sounded great to me.
When we met in the hotel room, Trump took my hand in his and gazed into my eyes.
He has a million-dollar smile, but up close, it looks fake.
It’s not real—it’s just business.
But what really struck me about him—in addition to being taller than I expected (six-two!)—was that he was better-looking in person than on television.
I might not have known who Trump was at the time, but I couldn’t help but be impressed by his wealth and charm.
He was friendly and engaging, and he exuded a sense of power that was incredibly attractive for me.
There was also something familiar about him that made me feel comfortable right away.
When he started to compliment me, I felt like maybe we could have a real conversation.
We bonded over our shared love of golf, and he invited me to play in his annual golf tournament the following year.
It was as simple as that: He was smitten with me, and he wanted me to stick around longer so we could talk more and get to know each other better.
He was so charming, and so handsome—he had such a beautiful smile!
In hindsight, it’s hard to imagine how I could have resisted him.
I’m not sure why I didn’t just say yes then and there, to whatever he wanted from me.
He was so sexy and confident and powerful—and he’d said that he’d never been able to resist a woman with red hair!
We were sitting on the couch in his hotel room when he asked if I’d ever seen “The Apprentice.
I said no—I hadn’t really watched much reality TV.
He said that was too bad.
I guess he’d thought that I was a perfect fit for the show.
I was famous for my intelligence and charisma.
I’d done a lot of things in my life—more than most people do—but he was surprised to learn that despite my success in the adult-film industry, I’d never been on TV before.
I told him that my job was to work behind the camera, not in front of it.
He said that was very interesting.
He asked if I’d ever thought about producing a reality-TV show with him.
I said no, not really.
He said maybe we should talk about it more later.
I said maybe we should.
Then he took my hand and started stroking it.
His touch was so gentle and warm, and it felt so good!
For the first time since we met, I felt like Trump was truly focused on me and only me.
It was as if he were trying to tell me something important—something he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Do you know who I am?”
he asked in a low voice.
I said no—I still didn’t know who this guy was!
He smiled and stroked my hand again, even more gently this time—so gently that I could barely feel it.
But I wanted to feel it more: His touch was so warm and pleasant—it was such a nice contrast to the chilly hotel room we were sitting in.
He leaned toward me—and then he disappeared into thin air!
I sat there for a few minutes waiting for him to come back, but he never did.
And then it dawned on me:
Trump had gone to take a shower—and he wanted me to join him in the bathroom!
I couldn’t believe he’d done that—I couldn’t believe he wanted me so much that he’d left me alone like that!
All of the other guys had always tried to take advantage of me when they had the chance, but they never tried anything serious because they knew how strong-willed and independent I was.
They never made a real effort to get to know me or to spend time with me—which was fine by me.
I always figured that if a man couldn’t be bothered to take the time to get to know me, then I couldn’t be bothered to take the time to get to know him either.
But Trump was different: He’d asked me so many questions about myself—about my work and my background—and he’d actually listened to me when I answered!
He’d treated me like a real person, instead of just another pretty face.
He’d even asked if I was happy with the size of my breasts, because he wanted to know what I thought!
No other man had ever done that before.
I was so flattered by all the attention he paid me—and so turned on by his good looks and charm—that I decided to wait for him to come back from the bathroom and see what happened next.
I quickly freshened up in the bathroom while I waited.
I didn’t want to look too desperate, but I also didn’t want to look like I wasn’t interested at all.
Trump came back into the room a few minutes later, looking fresh, clean, and gorgeous.
He smiled and sat back down in the chair next to mine, resting his long legs across the floor with perfect posture.
“Are you hungry?”
he asked, looking around the room as if he was trying to find a waiter or something.
“Would you like me to order some room service?”
He seemed so polite and thoughtful, like he was really concerned about my well-being.
It was a side of him that I’d never seen before—and it left me wondering how much more there was for me to discover.
“No, thank you,” I said sweetly.
“I’m fine—I had a big dinner earlier.”
He smiled and nodded, then he got up and walked over to one of the shelves on the wall.
“That’s good,” he said as he picked up a stack of white towels and carried them over to the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Would you like something to drink?”
I wasn’t sure what to say—he was being so nice and so polite, but at the same time, he still hadn’t made a move on me!
It made me wonder whether he really liked me at all—or if he’d only invited me upstairs because he thought it would be fun to hook up with a porn star.
I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t know what was going through his mind—so I decided to follow his lead and see where things went from there.
Trump sat down on the couch beside me and reached for one of the towels, then he casually started folding it in half as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I watched him as he did it: I couldn’t believe how nice and thoughtful he was being—and how gorgeous he looked doing it!
And then, before I knew it, we were talking like old friends—we had so much in common, and we had so much fun together!
We talked about everything under the sun: our favorite foods, our favorite movies, our favorite vacation spots, etc.
We talked for over an hour, and we were having such a great time that I didn’t notice the time fly by.
Trump was so smart and so well-informed—he knew more about my industry than most people did!
He knew all the important business terms that most of the guys who tried to pick me up never used.
He wasn’t just interested in getting me into bed—he actually wanted to know what it was like behind the scenes of the adult film industry.
And he didn’t just see me as a sex object—he saw me as a real person, with thoughts and feelings of my own.
I could tell that he truly valued me for who I was—and not just for the way that I looked.
But even though we were having so much fun together, I couldn’t help but notice that Trump seemed somewhat distracted.
He kept looking at the clock, and he kept getting up from his seat like he wanted me to leave.
After a while, he said that he needed to go back downstairs—and he asked if I would go with him.
As we walked out of the hotel room, I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of me.
I thought that I’d done everything right—I’d dressed to impress, I’d been on my best behavior, and I’d been a good listener all evening long.
But then I started to doubt myself—maybe I should have been more aggressive?
Maybe I should have tried to kiss him or make a move on him?
Maybe I should have told him how much I liked him—and how much I wanted to be with him?
That night, Donald Trump invited Stormy Daniels up to his room at Harrah’s Lake Tahoe Hotel and Casino.
As she stepped inside, she felt her jaw drop to the floor: she’d never seen a hotel room like this one!
It was a gorgeous penthouse suite with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an amazing view of Lake Tahoe from every angle.
The living room alone was bigger than most apartments—and it was filled with beautiful furniture, a huge flat-screen TV, and a stunning stone fireplace that stretched up to the ceiling.
“Wow, this place is amazing!”
Stormy said as soon as she walked inside.
“Thank you so much for inviting me up here—I can’t believe how nice it is!
“Do you like it?”
Trump asked with a smile.
“I’m so glad you think so—it’s actually one of my favorite hotel rooms in the world!”
“I see why,” she said.
“It must cost a fortune to stay here!”
“Not really,” he said with a shrug.
“I have my ways.”
He looked around the room and smiled, then he pointed to the bathroom door.
“I’m going to go freshen up,” he said.
“Make yourself at home.
There’s a fully stocked bar in the dining room, and there are all kinds of snacks in the fridge—help yourself to whatever you want!”
He smiled and walked away, and then Stormy was all alone in the living room of his lavish suite.
She looked around the room and took it all in: every detail was perfect, from the beautiful furniture to the stunning view of the lake.
She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to be there—and how much effort Trump had put into making her feel comfortable.
She noticed the bar that he’d mentioned in the dining room: it was filled with all kinds of expensive alcohol, and she could see that he had a wide selection of his favorite scotches and bourbons, along with all kinds of fancy mixers.
The fridge was fully stocked with all her favorite snacks and drinks, too.
He had somehow managed to get a copy of her rider—and he’d made sure that everything on it was there, waiting for her, when she arrived.
It was incredible!
She walked over to the bedroom door and opened it to see what it was like.
It was even more beautiful than the living room: the bedroom was huge, with a big king-size bed, a flat-screen TV on the wall, and a huge stone fireplace that was built into the wall like a work of art.
The bed had beautiful white linens on it, along with a big pile of fluffy white pillows.
Stormy walked inside and lay down on the bed, just to see what it felt like.
It was so soft that she almost sank right into it—it was like lying on a cloud!
She wanted to stay there forever.
But then she remembered that Trump was downstairs, waiting for her.
