A Legal Intern’s On The Job Training 5s366r

A Legal Intern’s On the Job Training

Aurora’s Twilight

Published by Aurora’s Twilight at Smashwords

Copyright 2020 Aron Ghebre

www.aurorastwilighterotica.net

A Legal Intern’s On the Job Training

Alexa’s heart was jackhammering in her chest as she made her way slowly down the hall, a brown accordion file crammed with yellow legal pads and printed out case law clutched tightly to her chest. Every step that brought her closer to the conference room only increased the sense of dread that had been building in her stomach all week. When she'd gone to law school, she'd never intended to see the inside of a courtroom—she'd just wanted to find a practice area with relatively predictable hours at a large enough firm that she could pay back her student loans while still affording food and rent. The fact that she'd graduated as salutatorian of her class, was co-editor of law review, and had secured a prestigious clerkship after graduation in a federal appellate court had gone a long way toward securing her an associate position at her current firm. She couldn't honestly say that she had any particularly burning ion for zoning issues, or even land use law in general, but it was a relatively stable practice group within her firm and it kept the lights on. One thing was absolutely certain though—she certainly liked her transactional work much more than litigation. Alexa had been elbow deep in preparing some draft legislative language for one of the clients whose matters she was assigned to when her boss had walked into her office. One of the Litigation partners had taken on a case for a "very important" client who was being sued by a local community group, and none of the early attempts at mediation had succeeded. The crux of the case had turned on some arcane land use statutes, so the Litigation partner had come to her boss to see if the Zoning department had an associate it could "share" with Litigation. There were four associates in her practice group, but two of them were fresh out of law school and the senior associate had just booked his first client matter and wasn't in a position to split his time with another department. Her boss had given her an apologetic shrug as she'd handed over the first batch of case files Litigation had sent over for her to get up to speed before saying, "You need to split your time with Litigation starting on Monday." The Litigation partner she'd been assigned to work with on the case was a

complete one-eighty from her normal boss. He was in his early 40s and was the youngest person to ever make partner at the firm. To say he was "intense" didn't do him justice. No matter how early she got to the office, he'd always managed to send her an e-mail about something at least an hour before she'd even gotten out of bed. If she worked eight hours on a Saturday to read through some discovery, he worked sixteen hours on both Saturday and Sunday. Whenever she couldn't find legal precedent to the specific point he wanted to make in a brief or a motion, she would invariably get back from lunch (or even just the restroom) to find a printed out copy of his Westlaw research with the perfect language for their case highlighted and sticky-tabbed casually sitting on her chair. All in all, working with him drove her nuts. She understood that it was some perverse rite of age that the Litigation associates went through—to see who would be the first person to either develop a substance abuse problem or a mental health issue—but she'd never wanted to be a part of that side of the law, and it chafed her no end that he was treating her as if she'd voluntarily asked to be reassigned. Despite her belief that he was an unrelenting slave driver, whenever she was on the verge of rage-quitting her firm she found herself grudgingly itting that he was turning her into a better lawyer. As she read over his comments on her draft motions, she appreciated the nuances to his legal arguments like how he managed to make even the most adverse facts of their case work in their client's favor. The thing she found herself most impressed by though was his chameleonlike personality. Over the nearly ten months they'd worked together, she'd heard multiple horror stories from other associates at the firm about getting chewed out in his office, and it was practically a firm legend about how he'd once made the name partner's personal secretary cry while he was a first year associate. And yet...She'd read through deposition transcripts of his where he'd been so pleasant and unassuming that he'd pied-pipered damning testimony out of opposing counsel's key witnesses. She found it difficult to tell which version of him was real because other than the notes he periodically sent back on her drafts, he had almost actively avoided her since the first day she'd reported to his office to discuss the background on the case. Then, with their bench trial only days away, she'd gotten an email informing her that she'd no longer be second-chairing at the trial. Instead, she had been relegated to prepping exhibits and making sure the "real" litigators preserved any

potentially necessary grounds for appeal. After working like a dog for months on end, she'd finally snapped. As she'd barged down to his office, she knew her indignant bravado was more than a little fueled by the fact that the office was a ghost town as it usually was by 8 pm on warm summer Friday nights. Sweeping into his meticulously organized office, she'd swung the door forcefully shut behind her—the plush pile carpeting in his office successfully muting much of the door frame's loud clattering reverberation. When he didn't so much as look up from his computer, she stalked closer to his desk before she hissed, "What the fuck did you mean by that email?" His ice blue eyes had slowly lifted from his monitor up to her face, his mouth set in a grim line. "I send a lot of emails. You'll have to be more specific if you expect me to know what you're talking about," he'd said, the rich tones of his voice firm and unyielding. Her nostrils flared as she'd let out an exasperated huff of air before she'd replied, "The McDonough case going to trial on Wednesday." A spark of challenge flared in his eyes so quickly that she swore she imagined it as he casually ran a hand through his lightly salted, dark brown hair. As his fingers raked through his hair, she found her eyes drawn to a flash of tawny skin, and she vaguely realized that he rolled the sleeves of his immaculate white dress shirt to his elbows. Her mouth started to go dry. "You're not in Litigation," he had said flatly before returning his attention to his computer screen. While she knew his explanation was perfectly logical, the dismissive way he'd said it kindled a deep-rooted fury within her. "You knew that back in September, but it didn't seem to stop you from treating me like I was a Litigation associate," she fumed, her anger causing her to unconsciously get closer to his desk as she loomed by the side of the sturdy mahogany piece of furniture. His head swiveled slowly to the side to get a better look at her before he eased himself out of his high-backed desk chair with a lithe, predatory gracefulness. As he stood up, she felt herself shrink back the tiniest bit as the lizard part of her brain realized she had lost her height advantage now that all 6'3" of him was towering over the 5'10" she was only able to claim because of her 4" heels. Their

new height difference brought her eye-level with his shoulders and her attention was drawn to the slightly loosened knot of his tie and the one unbuttoned button of his collar that gave her a fleeting glimpse of his neck. Her fingers started itching with the urge to yank on the royal blue strip of silk—whether to choke him or simply bring him back down to her level, she wasn't entirely sure. A feral growl escaped her clenched teeth in frustration as she forced herself not to act on the impulse to assault him. While she was borderline sure she probably wouldn't get fired for telling him off (especially since she made sure not to do it around witnesses), she was very confident he'd make sure she got fired if she laid her hands on him. Her attention was dragged back to his face when she heard him say, "That's funny that you think I've been treating you like a Litigation associate." There was nothing inherently threatening about the words themselves, but there was something dark in his tone, the way his voice seemed to get a half octave deeper, that made her breathing shallow as her heart started to race. She felt her eyes widen when he added, "No, if you were mine, I would've had you in my office every day—ridden you hard. A little girl like you probably would've cried, begged me to take it easier because you simply couldn't handle my expectations." Her breasts began to feel fuller under her black semi-sheer sleeveless chiffon shirt, and she unconsciously licked her lips. His eyes flickered to her mouth for a brief second, and she forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat as she realized how much bigger his pupils seemed to be when he locked eyes with her again. "There's no place for weakness in litigation," he said with a quiet rumble that made her skin feel like he'd suddenly cranked up the heat in his office. She batted her eyes slowly at him, completely mesmerized by his voice, and it took her a moment to realize he'd ended their "discussion" with a brusque "Now, get the fuck out of my office." * As he watched her slowly walk out of his office, he could feel his body positively vibrating from his desire to go after her, but he knew he couldn't. He'd just made partner six years earlier when she'd ed the firm as an

associate, and he'd spent much of the past few years actively avoiding her. When the firm's Executive Committee had called him in to extend his partnership offer there were really only two things he was told were verboten: stealing from the firm and fucking associates. While the first had been self-explanatory, he'd raised an eyebrow at the second given that he'd known for a fact that three-fifths of the Executive Committee had fucked multiple associates over the years, and not always when they were single. While he hadn't gotten a straight answer at the time, he'd learned later on that the last associate the head of the committee had been seeing on the side had not been content to go quietly when the senior partner was done with her. Instead, she had shown him her copious, meticulously detailed notes that she'd amassed over their months' long affair, and had not only threatened to go to his wife, but also to the state disciplinary committee since he had billed a number of their encounters to clients as "strategy sessions." To suitably buy the associate's silence, half of the partners had been forced to turn over clients to her from their books of business to help facilitate her landing a lateral, partnership-track position at another firm. Initially, he'd scoffed at the idea that staying away from an associate would be difficult. Then, he'd seen her at the new associate mixer. Every year the firm organized an open bar event a few weeks after the new crop of associates started to help them meet other attorneys and personnel at the firm. As in years' past, he'd had no trouble figuring out who the "baby" attorneys were as nearly all of them wore white cotton button down shirts tucked into black, offthe-rack suit skirts and pants that fit "ish" with some of the more rebellious ones deciding to leave their jackets back at their desks. They normally clustered together like scared lemmings either drinking what they thought was the cheapest booze on the firm's dime, or (for the more ambitious) trying to acquire a taste for whatever drinks they saw the name partners drinking. He'd been talking with the head of ing when she'd walked past them, a mostly full glass of white wine spritzer in her hand. Unlike the lemmings, she was in a form-fitting navy and khaki-colored sheave dress that stopped just above her knees along with 4" tan pumps that accented how tight her ass looked. When he'd commented to the ant about not hearing a new lateral hire ed the firm, his shock at hearing she was really one of the new first year associates had been palpable. After the ant left to locate his husband, he'd

found himself unconsciously tracking her with his eyes as she moved around the party. His cock began to stir the longer he watched her, the urge to wrap her long auburn hair around his fist as he kneaded her ample breasts and bit the milky white column of her neck while he fucked her from behind eventually becoming too much for him. Throwing back the last of his bourbon, he'd taken a minute to will his erect dick into submission before slipping out of the party. For weeks after the party, he'd somehow avoided encountering her around the office despite Litigation and Land Use occupying the same floor, and he'd just about convinced himself that he'd completely overblown how attractive he'd found her. Then he'd run into her on the elevator on his way to court for a motion hearing. She'd been in a bespoke charcoal grey suit with a royal blue dress shirt that made her eyes pop. The single button holding her suit jacket together accented the swell of her breasts as the lapels of her jacket pulled her breasts closer together. Thankfully, there had been a cold snap, so he was wearing his long woolen overcoat, which had concealed his burgeoning hard-on as they'd ridden the twenty-three floors to the building's lobby. He'd gripped the handle on his briefcase a little tighter to give him something to focus on other than imagining tearing off her shirt and jacket. The leather had squealed from the friction created by his palm, drawing her attention to him. She'd batted her eyes for a second as she'd glanced at his "evidence box" briefcase before she'd said, "Good luck at court today." There was a richness to her voice that he wasn't expecting, and it took him a minute before he bobbed his head to acknowledge her. His motion hearing had been a fiasco. Although he'd successfully gotten limited relief for his client, the hearing hadn't gone as smoothly as it should've. Rather than running through all of his arguments as he'd walked over to court, he'd found his mind wandering to how tempting her ass had looked in her perfectly tailored dress pants as well as wondering how much huskier her voice would sound in the throes of ion. His distraction had shown: he'd stumbled through his request for relief and had been uncharacteristically caught off-guard by some of his opposing counsel's counterarguments. The lapse in his focus was completely unacceptable. As he'd stalked back to the office after his hearing, he'd sworn that he would do everything in his power to avoid her in the future. He had worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much to risk losing it all over some piece of ass.

His plan had been going smoothly for years. He'd tagged her status updates on Skype so he always knew when she was at her desk, and he'd given his secretary a standing list of takeout orders so he never had to risk accidentally running into her getting lunch or dinner. If anything, he almost felt like he should've thanked her because he'd been so focused on not inadvertently coming into with her that he'd never billed so much time at the firm as he had during the last five years. At the rate he'd been going, he was certain that being asked to become a name partner was only a matter of time. And then he'd taken on the McDonough case. The client was something of a golden calf at the firm—it always had work it needed, never asked to write down bills, and paid on time. Whenever the client called the firm, the most senior partner in whatever department was needed was always put in charge of the matter and given free reign to use whatever firm resources were required to get a positive outcome. When the case first came across his desk, it had seemed straightforward enough: some local environmental group was disputing construction plans the client was trying to press ahead with as part of a new development it was building. As preliminary discovery was conducted and the efforts at alternative dispute resolution failed to come to a reasonable outcome, he'd become increasingly agitated. Rather than quickly securing a discreet settlement as both he and the client had wanted, the plaintiffs' counsel had dragged its heels—and worse, had leaked news of the dispute to the press. Within weeks, social media had been awash with trending hashtags decrying how the client was hellbent on destroying the environment. Then, the environmentalists had discovered that a beetle native to the area had recently been classified as an endangered species and the public outcry really started to get ugly. That's when he'd finally snapped and decided to make an example out of the McDonough case. As he'd stormed across the floor from Litigation to Land Use, he'd only ingly given thought to the fact that she worked in the department that he was about to press gang an associate from. It wasn't until he was standing in the middle of her boss' office though saying he needed the best associate in the department to start working on a case for him immediately that he'd considered the possibility that all his years of fastidiously avoiding her might suddenly come to naught. A thunderous roar crashed over him as blood started rushing to

his ears when her boss confirmed his worst fears, and he forced himself not to grimace. 'The client is all that matters,' he repeated on a loop in his head as he worked to keep his face neutral. Walking slowly out of his colleague's office, his mind suddenly leapt at an idea he hadn't considered: he hadn't really seen her in years (fleeting glimpses at the firm's handful of mandatory social events didn't count); she could've changed a lot in the interim, possibly even gotten married. His thoughts began to run wild as he desperately latched on to the idea that reality would prove he'd spent all this time needlessly making a mountain out of a molehill. As he allowed the concept to take deeper root in his mind, his chest began feeling lighter and he started quietly humming as he walked back to his office. He'd recognized his folly the minute she'd set foot in his office for the initial case briefing. Her black and red wrap dress had hugged the curves of her body perfectly, the red splashes of color appearing to be strategically placed to automatically draw his attention to her ripe breasts and the taut swell of her ass and the taunting junction of her thighs. The bow she'd tied on the red sash keeping her dress closed had been so perfectly executed that he knew without a doubt that he could unwrap her with one firm pull on the bow "leg." Before he could stop himself, his mind began wandering, imagining what type of lingerie she was wearing with a not insignificant part of him secretly hoping she was wearing crotchless panties and garters. His cock started to stir at the thought, and he quickly forced his attention back to her face. The new focus of his attention was not much better. Her dark blue eyes had slowly drifted over his body as she sat down across from him and her pupils had blown so wide that they were beginning to crowd out the color of her irises. She'd tucked an errant strand of silky auburn hair behind her ear before leaning just a little bit closer toward his desk as she'd listened intently to the background of the case. Although the motion was quick, his traitorous eyes had not failed to notice that she wasn't wearing any rings on her left hand. His throat suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a bucket of sawdust. As he paused to take a sip from his perpetually-filled mug of black coffee, he tried to think of anything that would help distract him from his urge to fuck her on his desk. He had the mug halfway to his mouth to take another drink of his coffee when she asked, "Is there anything else you need from me?" There was a velvety seductiveness to her voice that had him internally screaming to pull her out of her chair, rip open the sash on her dress and fuck her hard and dirty until they'd each cum at least twice.

He'd carefully set his mug back down on his desk before replying, "Just focus on researching for now." There'd been a rough burr to his voice that no amount of swallowing or coffee drinking was going to hide and he didn't miss the slight hitch in her breath as she rapidly nodded her head in acknowledgment. In the intervening months since she'd been loaned to him, his desire for her had not dissipated despite his continued best efforts to physically avoid her as much as possible. If he was being completely honest, things were actually becoming worse. As he read over her motions and briefs, the impressive extent of her legal acumen was clear. He'd driven himself nearly blind from staring at his computer screen as he'd worked even longer hours to find something—anything—to give her critical on. His situation had been even more damning when it came to her client letters. Reading them over, it was evident to him why she was so successful at the legislative lobbying portion of her position in Land Use. Her letters were formal, but somehow she wrote them in an approachable way—outlining the law in an easily digestible manner for non-lawyers to understand, highlighting the facts that were going well for the client without shying away from the roadblocks, and laying out next steps in a straightforward plan in order to create reasonable client expectations. The client's lead in-house attorney for their litigation department had actually complimented him on several of the letters that had been written in the "new style." As the trial date crept closer, he became increasingly convinced that there was zero chance he was going to make it through a weeks-long, high profile trial with her as his second chair without doing something stupid. The last straw had been their final witness prep session before the start of the trial. She'd been the last person to them in the conference room, clutching an overstuffed brown accordion file folder to her chest. If not for the fact that their last witness could not take his eyes off of her, he would've said her presence in the conference room was completely unobtrusive. As she'd gotten herself situated at the farther end of the table though, he hadn't missed the way the client's deputy chief land surveyor had ogled the swell of her breasts as she'd leaned over to lay out her various legal pads. He couldn't

the last time he'd been filled with such a jealous rage, and certainly not one so unjustified. After several hours of finalizing the review of the witness' testimony, they'd finished for the day. As he'd stood conferring with the client's in-house head of Litigation, he'd watched out of the corner of his eye as the witness had cozied up to her. Her tinkling laugh had floated across the conference room and he found himself wanting nothing more in the world than to rip off the arm of the 30something-year-old man who was touching her familiarly on her forearm. By the time he'd finally walked the two other men out to the elevator bank, he was so enraged by the surveyor's flirting that he knew there was only one thing he could do—kick her off the trial team. He'd strolled slowly back to his office loosening the knot on his tie as he walked in an effort to let his anger dissipate a little before he put his thoughts in writing. By the time he'd settled back in behind his desk, his blood didn't feel quite as heated, and he trusted himself more to send her something disionate and logical about why he was suddenly excising her from the case. Opening his email, he quickly typed out a short (terse, even) paragraph informing her of his decision before hitting "send." While sending her the email made him feel ethically cleaner, on a more visceral level he couldn't deny that he felt like he'd just made the biggest mistake in the world. For a brief second, he considered trying to recall the message, but then his eyes drifted unbidden to the status icon next to her name in the firm's messaging app: it was still green. If he hadn't spent the past several months in a silent battle of wills over who was the more dedicated lawyer, he would've assumed that the green icon was a fluke—that there was no chance in hell she was still logged on at 7:55 pm on a Friday—but he did know better. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he got up from his desk and hung up his suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves on his dress shirt to get more comfortable. Even though he'd mostly calmed down from his earlier rage, he still didn't entirely trust himself not to do something stupid—like kiss her senseless against a wall—if he had to be in close proximity to her, like on a long, empty elevator ride. When the door to his office swung open minutes later, he forced himself not to immediately look up. He was confident they were the last people left on their floor, so he knew she was the only person it could be, and more importantly, he knew exactly why she'd stormed into his office. His cock started to twitch as he momentarily fantasized that she had rushed over to confess her lust for him now

that he was no longer technically her boss. Although he quashed that thought as he ed her stalking angrily into his line of sight, his cock got even harder when he finally did look up at her and found a small, auburn-haired Valkyrie looking to rip him apart. Her chest was heaving in rage as she hissed out her demand for an explanation about being kicked off the case, and he knew without a doubt that image would be featuring prominently in his fantasies later as he jacked himself off. Then, she brought up the fact that he'd treated her the same as any other Litigation associate and his willpower finally cracked. He knew his explanation was walking a very thin line between being a double entendre and flat out sexual harassment, but he honestly didn't care. Looking at her parted lips and sultry eyes, all he wanted in that moment was to push her against his desk and fuck her senseless until he'd finally managed to purge his years of unresolved sexual frustration for her. Unlike Land Use though, Litigation was a blood sport where distractions meant weakness, and weakness resulted in poor client satisfaction. So, despite every primal urge in his body, he kicked her out of his office, choking down the urge to run after her as she floated out of the room in stunned silence. * She tried to avoid rage drinking, but as she'd mercilessly shoved her laptop and various legal pads into her satchel, all she could think of was how much she wanted a drink. As she stepped off the elevator on the ground floor, she walked briskly through the building's lobby making it out to the sidewalk in record time. Turning toward her left, she set her sights on the bar halfway down the block. The firm frequently hosted its Happy Hours there, so she knew there was a risk that she might run into one of her colleagues, but it was close and their drinks were strong, so she mentally crossed her fingers that she wouldn't see anyone she knew. The bar was full but not nearly as crowded as she'd expected—a welcome benefit of people taking long weekends in the summer—and she grabbed a seat near the back. She'd been nursing her bourbon for half an hour when the first drunk of the night sidled up to her to try his luck. "Eyy baby! Your eyes are like tiger pits! I keep falling into them!” he slurred as he tried leering at her through unfocused eyes.

She looked him over as she slowly took another sip of her drink. He was cute enough in a clean cut, generic office worker way, and but for the fact that she was confident he was too drunk to get it up, she might've considered going home with him. Given how the rest of her day had gone though, she knew dealing with a case of whiskey dick would push her over the edge. Mustering up an indulgent half-smile, she shook her head as she said, "Not tonight. I'm already waiting on someone." The white lie rolled off her tongue as easily as it had hundreds of times before, so she knew the responses it tended to invoke—either a mildly dejected walk back to wherever they came from, or an emboldened insistence on keeping her company while she waited. What it did not tend to do, however, was induce sheer panic in her would-be suitors. She had barely finished saying the sentence though when the drunk's eyes shifted slightly to her left before his face suddenly blanched and he looked like he was going to puke on her shoes. "Sh'rry! Sh'rry!" he stammered out before scurrying back into the small, but building Friday night crowd. Even though she thought the apology was directed to her—because his attention had momentarily strayed off her before he'd changed his mind—she wasn't completely sure. She'd barely turned her head to look over her shoulder when she caught sight of who had terrified her drunk would-be suitor. Letting out a small groan, she banged her head lightly against the wooden bar as he moved to sit next to her. "I thought HR normally handled the termination discussions?" she asked as a pit of regret over her earlier behavior began to grow. "That sounds about right. Honestly, I couldn't say. I've only fired clients," he said in a disarmingly collegial way as he motioned to the bartender. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him before she parroted, "Never fired...? But you've run through seven Associates just in the past three years!" For a split second, she caught a strange look cross over his face out of the corner of her eye before he schooled his features. Turning to look at her directly, his eyes dropped to her lips for a moment before he looked hypnotically into her eyes. "Three of them wanted more work-life balance then they were getting with the Department's thirty-five hundred hour billing requirement. One finally paid off her student loans and went to work for a non-profit, which she'd told me was

her plan six months into working for me. Another had her deferred federal clerkship finally start. One of them had been living a secret life on the party circuit and left to go to rehab after receiving non-public discipline from the state disciplinary board, and the seventh followed his wife to her new duty station in Oklahoma when she recently got her transfer orders," he said as he checked each one off with his fingers. As she momentarily gaped at him, he turned his attention over to the beer the bartender had placed in front of him as he'd spoken to her. She watched as his lips closed around the edge of the pint glass, and not for the first time, she found her imagination wondering how good he was at eating pussy. Her pussy began tingling at the thought and she started to squirm. Before she had a chance to do anything, his voice washed over her again as he asked, "Why'd you stick around on this case? You said yourself that you're not in Litigation, and I've never gotten the impression you were trying to jump ship from Land Use. You could've asked the head of your department to recall you months ago." Her heart started jackhammering in her chest. By all objective measures, he was right. Yes, she'd initially been "voluntold" that she had to assist on the case, but that had been months ago. It seemed like several of the dedicated Litigation Associates had freed up capacity more recently though; she could've petitioned her boss in Land Use to get her temporary assignment ended. The simple fact was that she'd stayed on because of him. The excuse she'd gotten in the habit of telling people was that although there was no denying that he'd worked her like a ragged mule, it was making her a better lawyer. However, as she buried her fingers and her vibrator deep in her cunt nearly every night (as well as her ass on more than a few occasions), he had been the person she'd fantasized about. Ever since she'd caught sight of him at her first firm-wide social as she'd worked her way around the room talking to several of the other partners, she'd been attracted to him. There was something undefinable about his presence that exuded power and dominance, and it turned her on in a way that scared her a little. She'd known for years that they worked on the same floor (she'd bribed one of the paralegals with the woman's favorite fancy coffee and a box of expensive gourmet donuts to find out more about the only partner she didn't get to speak with at that first firm mixer), and she'd made a point of

keeping an eye out for him. The fact that he never seemed to leave his office had elevated him to near mythic status as she'd done what little she could do to learn more about him—like reading his old deposition transcripts (she'd considered it a type of professional development so it didn't seem quite as creepy in her mind). In the handful of fleeting instances where she had seen him around, the sight of him had made her mouth water even though he'd seemingly vanish into thin air whenever she'd tried to find him at the firm's social events to introduce herself. Her eyes suddenly happened to focus on his face only to find him staring at her with that odd look again. "Repeat what you just said," he said in a rough strangled growl, the knuckles on the hand holding his pint glass turning a mottled pinkish-white. She felt her face blanche. There was no way she'd said all of her innermost thoughts about him out loud. "Erm..." she stalled. His eyes smoldered as he held her gaze with an intensity that was making her breasts swell and rub teasingly against the satin of her bra, and she struggled not to start panting with need. "Did you really stay on this case because of me?" he asked in the Pied Piper voice she'd picked up on in his depo transcripts. Adrenaline immediately began flooding through her body as her fight-or-flight instinct abruptly kicked into high gear. Bolting off her bar stool, she tried to mumble an excuse about something, anything really, that would warrant her fleeing his presence as quickly as possible. She made it as far as half a step from the stool before a wave of electricity coursed through her arm as his hand shot out to grab hold of her wrist. The unexpected physical --not to mention her body's reaction to it--froze her in place, her eyes glued to his long, tempting fingers clasped firmly around her delicate skin. Touching her skin closed a circuit that went directly to his cock, and he could feel himself quickly swelling as his imagination unhelpfully suggested to him how soft and supple the rest of her body might be. With his fingers pressed against her pulse, he knew exactly how badly her heart was jackhammering. He wanted to search her face, to see if her heart was racing from a mutual desire for him—or because he'd unintentionally terrified her—but her eyes were glued

to where their hands were touching. It took him two tries, but eventually his gentle, yet insistent tugging on her wrist brought her attention to his face. Her pupils were blown wide with lust as an involuntary mewl of need escaped her slightly parted lips. "How far is your place?" he asked in a low rumble as he leaned closer for her to hear him. There was a tiny hitch in her breath that he would've missed amid the growing din in the bar if his attention hadn't been so attuned to her body. He watched the muscles in her neck contract as she swallowed and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to be watching the rest of her body contort as he teased her with his fingers and his tongue and his cock. His mind was starting to get so caught up in his fantasy that he almost missed it when she replied, "I'm over the county line," with an almost apologetic whinge of frustration. "I'm closer," he said sliding off his stool without letting go of her arm. He wove them expertly back across the bar and out to the sidewalk in record time. His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour as his last shred of selfpreservation tried to remind him why what he was about to do was monumentally stupid. Despite all the reasons he knew he should let go of her, walk back into the bar and find some anonymous piece of ass to go home with, he couldn't bring himself to do it as he lead them around the corner and over toward the parking garage where his car was located. When they reached the entrance to the garage, he gave the attendant the number for his assigned space, then they waited for the young man to return with his sedan. His fingers stroked the inside of her wrist and he watched as goosebumps broke out along her arm. Dragging his eyes up to her face, he caught her looking at him with unfocused eyes as she chewed on her bottom lip. He unconsciously leaned closer to her as he wondered how sweet her lips tasted. Closing his eyes, he found himself saying in a low whisper, "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me before I do something I can't fix." He felt the air shift as she leaned closer to him until she said in a sensuous voice, "I'm only going to be upset if you wait another six years before you fuck me." At that moment, the attendant pulled a sleek black car with almost completely

blacked-out windows to a stop in front of them. The young man hopped out of the driver's seat, barely glancing at the couple he'd inadvertently interrupted. Within moments, the two of them were buckled into their seats and an air of quiet expectation settled over them. Before he put the car in drive, he turned to rake a heated look over her body, only to catch her looking back at him with the full force of her lust radiating off of her. Making a split second decision, he said firmly, "Pull your skirt up to your waist and recline your seat. I want to watch you finger yourself as we head over to my place." Her breath stuttered for a second, and he momentarily wondered if he'd gone too far too fast. After a moment though, he saw her beginning to shimmy her skirt up over her thighs until the material was bunched around her hips. His mouth went dry as she teasingly let her thighs fall open revealing her glistening waxed pussy. As his brain processed the fact that she was commando, his mind briefly wandered back to their witness prep session that afternoon, and his grip on his steering wheel tightened as a sudden surge of possessiveness rushed through him. "Have you been walking around commando all day?" he said in a low growl of warning. Her left index and middle fingers slowly traced the hairless lips of her pussy and she whimpered as she reclined the front enger with her right hand. He was about to repeat his question, when she said in a wanton moan, "Uh-uh. I took them off after you kicked me out of your office. You had me so turned on I'd completely soaked through my thong." He growled again. "Then you went to the bar without putting them back on. Were you just planning to fuck some guy in the bathroom?" he asked, not even trying to hide the possessive jealousy in his voice. Her fingertips were lazily stroking circles around her engorged clit, and he tried not to think of the sorry drunk from the bar getting to touch her so intimately. "Mmm," she purred as her fingers dropped lower, sliding easily in and out of her slippery pussy, "I hadn't decided." His knuckles whitened as he gripped the fine grain leather on his steering wheel

so firmly that he could feel it creating an imprint on his palms. Keeping his full attention off of the erotic tableau next to him was more of a struggle than he'd initially anticipated—especially with his increasing urge to fuck her so thoroughly that she'd never consider letting another man's cock near her. "I love that you're watching me fuck myself," she suddenly said as her body continued to writhe on the seat next to him. "You have no idea how often I've fantasized about this—how'd I get so turned on at work thinking about you that I'd have to shut the door to my office in order to get some relief, but then you'd walk in unannounced, looking for some memo I owed you, and you'd catch me like this, wrist deep in my cunt, moaning your name."

His cock throbbed at her ission, and he found himself wanting nothing more in the world than to make that fantasy come true. He pressed his foot harder against the accelerator before asking, "What do I do after I catch you fingerbanging yourself?" Her fingers slid completely out of her pussy and for a split second, he thought she was using her agile fingers to spread her arousal on her ass, but it was such a fleeting movement that he dismissed it as wishful thinking. She turned her head to look at him through half-lidded eyes as her left hand gripped the head rest on her seat from better leverage. "It depends. Sometimes, you're evil and you make me stop, telling me that you're the only one who can make me cum. You tell me what a bad girl I am for making you come down to my office to get your memo. Other times, you just watch, not even bothering to completely shut the door behind you. I can feel my heart racing as I worry that someone else might catch me, but I'm already so wet and turned on that I can't stop, so I just work my clit harder in order to cum as fast as I can." His eyes strayed from the road back to her pussy only to find her fingers picked up speed as she got deeper into her fantasy. Swallowing past the knot of desire in his throat, he warned her, "Slow down. We're almost at my place. I don't want you to cum before we get there." With a high pitched whinge of frustration, he noticed her fingers slowing down, and he smiled before he prompted her, "Tell me what else happens when I find you thinking about me while you fuck yourself."

There was a brief lull and for a moment he wondered if she wasn't going to tell him in revenge for not letting her cum right away. Just as quickly as the thought crossed his mind though it ed as she said in a voice that was strangled with need, "If I'm feeling very naughty, I imagine that you tell me to play with my ass at the same time...like this." Without another word, she shifted around on the enger seat until he was able to get an unobstructed view of her right ring finger gently probing her ass as her index and middle fingers remained buried knuckle-deep in her pussy. "God, you're such a dirty little fuck toy, aren't you?" he said more to himself than anything. * Any minute now, she was going to wake up. There was absolutely no way that not only had she not gotten fired for telling off one of the most powerful partners at the firm, but that she was finally going to fuck him after fantasizing about it for years. She had to it though—even her imagination had never conjured up anything like this before. Her fingers sank even deeper into her pussy causing her ring finger to slide into her ass up to the first t making her whimper as the fingers in her cunt pressed fleetingly against her G-spot. She couldn't the last time she'd taken longer than five minutes to cum, and the denial of her orgasm was creating an electric need running underneath her skin. "How much longer is it?" she whined. "I need to cum so badly." "You'll cum when I say you're ready to cum," he said in a low voice, barely taking his eyes off the road to glance at her. She let out another high-pitched whine before a thought occurred to her. Pressing her thumb teasingly against her clit, she moaned in satisfaction before taunting, "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do if I cum anyway?" At that, he turned to look at her and she smirked in smug satisfaction as she rocked her pussy slowly against her hand. He watched her for less than a minute

as she let her pending orgasm build. Right as she was on the verge of pushing herself over the edge of orgasmic free fall though, he turned his complete attention back to the road and said in a surprisingly even tone, "If you cum right now, instead of taking this exit and going to my house, I'll get back on the highway and bring you back to the office. I'll go home and jack off to this memory of you, and then probably won't need to fuck you ever. Your choice though—your hand now, or me filling all of you over and over later." Her breath hitched as she processed his threat. As much as she wanted to call his bluff, her skin was practically on fire from her urge to fuck him. She would never forgive herself if he actually brought her back into town. With a strangled whimper of frustration, she withdrew her fingers from her pussy and her ass, and tried to concentrate all of her willpower on not accidentally falling off her orgasmic precipice. "Smart choice," he said with a mixture of smug relief as she saw him pull on the off ramp and get into the right turn lane heading toward a residential area. * He secretly breathed a sigh of relief as he took the off ramp. His balls were about to explode, and he questioned whether he actually had the willpower to carry through on his punishment if she'd disobeyed him. Everything about watching her masturbate just for him had been better than any fantasy—the way her bare cunt glistened with her arousal, the tangy scent of her pussy hanging headily in his car, and the sounds she made. He doubted he'd ever be able to look at her again without hearing the wanton moans and needy whimpers that he had inspired. As he turned down the road toward his neighborhood, he tried not to floor the gas pedal on his car. He'd been risking it speeding on the highway, and the last thing he wanted was for some cop to catch sight of the pussy he intended to claim as his own. If things were different, he'd rest his hand on her thigh to help temper their mutual excitement, but that wasn't what this was. He wasn't looking to have slow, sweet, thoughtful sex with her—he was going to fuck her hard and dirty, taking her body over and over until his own could no longer handle it. Pulling up to the intersection before his development, he said gruffly, "Pull your skirt down. I don't need my neighbors seeing your cunt."

She whined in protest for a second before eventually pulling down her skirt enough so that it wasn't completely bunched up around her waist. He gave her an indulgent look before he added, "Good girl." Within minutes he was pulling his car into his driveway, and he forced himself not to simply put his car in "park" and pull her across the center console. He dropped his head toward the steering wheel and took a steadying breath before he turned to look at her. Even though she looked practically feral with desire, he needed to be absolutely sure she wasn't going to have any regrets that could bite him in the ass if she got out of the car with him. "Last chance," he said with a rough burr in his voice, "You can change your mind right now, and we'll never speak of this ever again." He heard the tell-tale sign of her car door opening a moment before her unfairly arousing voice said over her shoulder, "We're only going to have a problem if I don't have some part of you inside me in the next few minutes." * The walk from his driveway to his front door was brief, but she couldn't deny that every step she took reminded her of her denied orgasm as her thighs brushed sensuously against each other. As they got to the door, she'd expected him to step to the side to unlock the door and let them both in. Instead, he'd caged her body in, her chest nearly pushing against the sturdy wooden door as he ground his impressive hard-on against her ass as he reached for his keys. The implication made her pussy and her breasts throb with need and she couldn't help whimpering in response. Her sensitive nipples were pressed more firmly against the unforgiving wood as he leaned further into her a second before whispering in her ear, "Tonight, your body is mine, and I plan to thoroughly use it." Another mewl escaped her. She had just started closing her eyes to focus on the riot of sensations assaulting her senses when she suddenly felt herself fall slightly forward as the door began to open. As she started losing her balance though, she felt his strong forearm wrap across her hips to steady her. The next thing she knew, he was using their combined momentum to move them over the threshold and into the entranceway

of his house. The door had barely clicked shut behind them when she felt him move her hair to give himself better access to her neck. His lips coasted along the column of her exposed skin causing her to shiver as her arms broke out in goosebumps. "I need..." she started to say right before she felt the sharp sting of his teeth against her collarbone. Her mind went blank as her brain struggled to process the conflicting inputs of his sharp teeth and his surprisingly gentle hand simultaneously kneading her breast. His hand and his teeth kept her successfully anchored against his body, and all she could do was whimper pitifully as she writhed against him. She could feel his rock hard cock grinding meaningfully against her ass and her pussy started fluttering in anticipation. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she tried again, "Please...I need you to make me cum." He chuckled, and the vibrations against the sensitive flesh on her neck fueled the electrical fire that was going on just beneath her skin. She whimpered again. Shifting her weight, she started to pivot her body to take a step away from him, but before she could do much more than tease his cock with the friction from her moving hip, his nimble fingers suddenly pinched the erect nipple on the breast he'd been teasing. As a deep moan of want tore from her mouth, his voice started to wash over her with hypnotic dark promise as he asked, "When's the last time you were tested?" It took her sex fogged brain a minute to catch up to his question, but she eventually said dazedly, "Last month when I got my IUD replaced." "And no one since?" he rumbled against her neck while tweaking her nipple again. "Uh uh," she said. "Good," he said, tugging on her nipple. "I just got tested and I really wanted to fuck you raw," he said, his voice dropping into a feral growl. *

He knew the smart thing to do would be to take her to his bedroom so he could take his time with her, but the nearly unbearable throbbing in his cock demanded more immediate relief. Spinning their positions around, he pressed her back against his sturdy oak front door while roughly tugging her skirt back up to her waist. Once he finally had the unobstructed access he wanted, he let his fingers drift teasingly across the sensitive skin of her hipbones as he coasted his hand down to her exposed pussy. As his fingers inched closer to the entrance of her cunt, he could feel the sticky, moist heat of her arousal and his mouth started to water. When his fingers finally reached their destination, he forced himself not to rush. Even though he wanted nothing more than to impale her on his fingers and finally feel how wet she was, he made himself continue to tease her by tracing the smooth puffy lips of her vagina with his calloused fingertips. Her vibrant blue eyes closed as he watched her focus her thoughts on what he was doing to her body. Changing the tempo and pressure of his strokes caused her eyes to shoot open as she wordlessly pleaded with him through her frustrated whines and whimpers. Leaning close enough for their lips to practically brush against each other, he breathed, "Use your words. Tell me what you need." She keened a high-pitched whinge of frustration that went straight to his cock before she babbled, "Please! Slip your fingers inside me. Let me ride your hand good and hard. See how tight and wet I am for your cock. Whatever you want— please, I just need to cum." His mind clouded with dark promise as he processed her lust-induced offer: "Whatever you want." He tried not to let his thoughts slip too far down that path as he slowly sank two of his fingers inside her velvety, wet channel. The walls of her pussy clutched at him as he began to piston his fingers in and out of her, getting her even wetter for him. If he was completely honest, he couldn't the last time he fucked someone as tight as her, and he suddenly found himself hoping she wasn't going to have any issues taking his cock. Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, but he could tell from the frustrated concentration etched on her face that she needed more. He brushed his thumb lightly across her clit, and the unexpected sensation caused her to jerk against his hand. He did it again.

"Harder, please," she whimpered in a voice that was barely more than a puff of air against his lips. "Harder?" he teased, "Like this?" He ran his thumb over her clit as lightly as a butterfly wing. She growled and the feral sound was like a lightning rod straight to his already aching cock. He closed the hair's breath distance between their mouths as he finally gave her clit the firm pressure he knew she'd been craving and her moan reverberated against his lips. As his tongue instinctively sought out the warm cavern of her mouth, he simultaneously rubbed her clit harder and harder. He worked her closer to orgasm as she writhed more and more shamelessly against his body. A part of him wanted to keep her hanging on the edge of orgasm for as long as possible, but he knew she'd realized he'd had that thought as he suddenly felt a blunted sting as she scored her nails down the back of his shirt, digging them as hard into his skin as the linen garment would allow. He nipped at her bottom lip in retaliation as he started pistoning his fingers even harder into her pussy. As he fingerfucked her more aggregressively, he felt her taut nipples rub against his chest as she increasingly arched her back while she rode his hand. Leaning toward her ear, he gently worried her earlobe for a second before he murmured, "Show me how hard a nasty little slut like you can cum." * She felt the familiar tremor of orgasm begin to overtake her as he whispered filthy nothings in her ear, and for a split second she wished the degrading sentiment of his words didn't make her pussy tingle as much as it did. The thought lasted all of a heartbeat as her cunt clamped down hard on the fingers invading her body. Her hips spasmed violently as the force of her long-denied orgasm overwhelmed her, leaving her legs feeling dangerously boneless in her 4" heels. Sagging against his front door, she struggled to watch him through the sex haze overtaking her senses. "Oh my...wow..." she mumbled incoherently while he grinned smugly at her. Even though the competitive part of her wanted nothing more than to wipe the

self-satisfied look off his face, she couldn't deny that it was taking her far more effort than she wanted to it not to simply crumple to the floor from orgasmic bliss. She moved her hand instinctively to tug on the bunched up hem of her skirt, only to accidentally brush her hand fleetingly against his straining cock. While his tailored suit pants were keeping his sizable girth contained, the outline of his erection as it pressed against the confines of his fitted clothing left nothing to her imagination about how impressive his cock was in both length and width. Her pussy started tingling from the lingering aftershocks of her orgasm as her mind struggled to envision how he was going to fit such an enormous cock inside her. As if drawn by a magnet, she ran her nails lightly along the turgid outline of his shaft causing him to hiss from the muted teasing sensation. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, her breath caught in her throat for a second as she saw the frighteningly feral need etched across his face. The ferocity of his hunger temporarily stunned her, causing her to inadvertently wind up palming his erection through his pants. Her hand felt tiny in comparison to him as the head of his cock along with at least an inch of his pulsing shaft extended past the heel of her palm while her fingertips barely touched the top of his balls. Without thinking, she experimentally rubbed her hand up and down his clothed cock a couple of times before he let out a dark, animalistic growl. Realizing what she'd done, she dropped her hand from his body with an embarrassed squeak. In the blink of an eye, she felt his steely grip around her wrist pulling her away from the oak door and toward the stairs she assumed lead to his bedroom. As he pulled her along, she barely felt her feet touch the floor as she floated after him in her increasing sex haze. When they finally reached his bedroom, it was both everything she'd expected it to be and nothing like she'd expected. Three-quarters of the room were as lacking in personality as a room at a hotel right near the airport—bland and sterile, an uninspired palette of whites, taupes, and sandstones. The small fraction of things that caught her off guard were truly unexpected though—like the fact that the dusky blue sheets on his bed were rumpled up like he'd wrestled an alligator in his sleep, or the one floor to ceiling built-in bookcase lined with vinyl records with cutouts for his record player and his impressive speaker set up.

She was still taking in the little nuances of his bedroom like the fact his alarm clock was on top of his bureau on the opposite end of the room from his bed when she felt his breath against the back of her neck. "Strip," he quietly ordered. Between her rumpled skirt, her blouse and her bra, it took her less than three minutes before she was standing in front of him completely nude. He prowled around her, taking in every detail about her body, and she tried not to squirm under his intense scrutiny. After he'd circled around her several times, he asked in a deceptively casual voice, "Have you ever been spanked?" Her eyes widened at his unexpected question. She had to it, she'd had the odd fantasy in college of being bent over one or two of her professors' desks and getting spanked for not studying hard enough, but she'd never acted on it. Then law school had come and she'd barely had time for anything other than the occasional one night stand, which had hardly been conducive to exploring some of her darker urges safely. While a large part of her was hoping this was not going to be a one time thing between them, the realist in her recognized why it probably would be, and urged her to take advantage of the time she did have to act out as many of her fantasies as she could. "No," she whispered, "but I have thought about it before." He stopped behind her and she could feel the muted heat from his chest through his linen dress shirt as he leaned closer to her and whispered back, "Lean over the foot of my bed." She threw him a questioning look over her shoulder, but the answers she was searching for were embedded in the smoldering look in his eyes as he stared back at her. Taking a couple quick steps over to his bed, she leaned over, resting her torso on the surprisingly firm mattress. The scent of him filled her nose as she breathed deeply, his twisted up sheets capturing his unique musk. She was just starting to feel comfy when she felt the steady weight of his hand pressing against her back as he ran his palm down her

spine. The sensation made her breasts throb and she tried to rub her chest against his mattress to relieve some of the ache. His hand drifted over the plump swell of her ass, and she instinctively arched her butt closer to his touch. "I was going to take it easy on you since it's your first time, but if you keep teasing me like that, I'm not sure I'll be able to restrain myself," he said with a hint of a smile in his voice. "There's no getting around it, it's going to sting." The next thing she knew, the soft caress of his hand was gone, and an unmistakable crack filled the air as he brought his hand down sharply against her skin. She wasn't entirely prepared for the spank, and she half swallowed a squeak of surprise as her mind raced to process the sensation. Her body was just beginning to acknowledge the stinging in her derrière when he abruptly slapped her on the opposite cheek.

Nothing about his next few spanks was consistent—not their force, which cheek he hit, nor the amount of time he waited between each blow—and it prevented her mind from preparing itself for the next downstroke. As her ass began to heat up though, her pussy began throbbing as something within her began getting wound up again. By the time he got to twenty and stopped, she was a hair's breadth away from humping his mattress for relief. * Her skin was the ideal shade of mottled strawberries and cream by the time he finished spanking her, and he could no longer deny the deep aching in his balls as his body cried out for release. He stepped back from her for a second and started to finally strip out of his work clothes; he was planning to rub her ass down with some soothing cream, but he didn't want to risk getting any on his clothes. It didn't take him long to shuck off his boxers and pants, although his fingers took a little more effort to unbutton his shirt after going slightly numb from spanking her. Walking over to his wall of vinyl, he pressed the corner on one of the shelves, causing the door to a false compartment to pop open. The 18" by 12" by 12" compartment housed a number of supplies and he made a point of grabbing two different bottles out before he closed the faux record door. He placed the two bottles on the end of the bed before picking one back up and pumping a few squirts of cream with a velvety mousse texture into the palm of

his hand. Rubbing his hands together so that the cream amply covered both of his palms, he began massaging the cream into the bright pink skin on her ass. She'd whimpered for a couple minutes until the cooling effect of the cream had a chance to seep into her skin, and for a few long seconds, he found himself questioning if he'd gotten too carried away as he'd punished her. Soon enough though, her whimpers morphed into needy moans that were becoming increasingly hardwired to his cock. His thumbs ran along the valley between her ass cheeks gently pulling them apart with each downstroke exposing the tight ring of her anus. He hadn't done anal sex in awhile, but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what his cock would look like pumping in and out of her ass since she'd fingered herself in his car. "How do you feel about anal?" he asked as his erection bobbed haphazardly against her undercheeks. She popped up on to her forearms to get a better look at his face. "Do you have lube?" she asked seriously to which he showed her the second bottle he'd removed from his secret cubby. Taking the bottle from his hand, he watched as she studied the label intensely for several minutes before she eventually handed it back, saying, "Go slow." He popped open the small bottle with one hand as he kneaded to her pinkened cheek with his other before he squirted some of the silicone gel onto her anus. When he was satisfied with the amount of lube on her ass, he squeezed some more lube into the palm of his hand before generously coating his index finger in the clear gel. " to breathe," he said gently as he started probing the outer rim of her anus with his index finger. Her body reflexively clamped down against the intrusion, so he rubbed the small of her back soothingly until he felt her finally begin to relax. As the tension flowed out of her muscles, he was able to eventually slip the tip of his finger past the guardian of her sphincter. He took his time, making sure he was distributing the lube inside her—well aware of the size of his cock and not wanting their evening to end prematurely because he'd injured her—as he worked to loosen her up. Finally, after several minutes of foreplay, he felt like she was ready for more than just his finger.

He picked up the bottle of lube again and applied a generous coating to his straining erection. Even though he'd poured the lube into the palm of his hand first rather than directly on to his cock, the cooler slipperiness of the silicone still initially caught him off guard when he wrapped his hand around his pulsating flesh to apply the lubrication. Satisfied that there was going to be minimal friction, he lined up the head of his cock with the entrance to her ass. "This isn't my finger," he said in a quiet rumble as he started to press his cock inside her. Even though the lube was helping reduce the friction between their bodies, he could tell from the way her body was trying to reject the intrusion of his cock that his size was an ambitious ask of her. He continued to rub her back and found himself babbling wordless sounds of comfort to help her relax, which seemed to help as he was able to push his cock a little deeper inside her. His eyes drifted down to his cock only to see that he'd barely managed to work a little over an inch of himself inside her. Her ass was so tight around him, but he needed to feel more of her, needed to see his cock splitting her open as her ass strained to accommodate his girth. "Your ass looks so good trying to take my cock," he said encouragingly as he rocked his hips a little more insistently against her. She murmured into his sheets as her ass stretched wider to take him, and his cock throbbed as he marveled at how something so small and tight could swallow the enormity of his erection. His mind drifted unbidden to the flirtatious land surveyor earlier that afternoon and his hips began to pick up speed. "When you were flirting with our witness today, were you thinking of letting him fuck you like this? His cock buried balls deep in your ass?" he said with a dark hint of unfounded jealousy bleeding into his voice. She whimpered and for a split second he worried he'd gotten too carried away and accidentally hurt her. His concern evaporated though as his ears vaguely picked up her saying, "Not exactly, but I might've given some thought to what it'd be like to have both of you fucking me." His cock ached at her ission. On the one hand, he'd never seriously given much thought to having a threesome with another man, but as quickly as the idea crossed his mind, he dismissed it. Even though they weren't dating, if this was

going to be more than a one-time thing (and from the sounds she was making and the way his body was reacting to her there wasn't a chance in hell he'd be satisfied with just one night) she needed to know an important fact: "I don't share what's mine," he growled right as his cock finally bottomed out within her. He gripped her hips mercilessly as he pistoned his cock in and out of her ass, and he could already envision the bruising that was sure to start showing on her skin before the end of the night. The thought that she would be physically reminded of their sex for days renewed his focus on watching his cock split apart her ass. Even though she wasn't giving him any indications that she was in pain (and he knew it wasn't because of the lube, having learned years ago not to use numbing lube for anal sex), he nonetheless found himself beginning to worry that he was taking her too hard too fast. Although she certainly didn't seem to be an anal virgin, given the resistance he'd faced as he'd first worked his cock inside her lead him to believe it certainly wasn't something she'd done any time recently. Having never been on the receiving end of anal sex himself, he couldn't say for sure how long or even how tender she'd be to begin with, but he'd heard from several lovers in the past that even vigorous vaginal sex with him had often lead to days of discomfort afterwards. Despite the fact that he wasn't changing his mind about kicking her off the trial team, he did still want her there as an observer to signal to him in case some relevant yet arcane application of land use law started to slip past him—a role that would be infinitely more complicated if she wasn't able to sit for extended periods of time. His balls were churning fiercely after jackhammering her ass for over fifteen minutes, and it pained him to give up the stranglehold she. had on his cock, but he wasn't sure if he was going to last for another minute or another twenty minutes, and this was not the week to test the limits of her physical endurance. He eased himself out of her as carefully as he could without disrupting his momentum too much until the head of his cock finally popped out of her with a sound that reminded him almost of a muffled queef. She let out a whine at the loss of him filling her almost to her breaking point and he gave her ass cheek a reassuring squeeze as he ran his free hand over his pulsing shaft. "As much as I'd love to see my cum dripping out of your abused ass, you need to be able to sit still in court this week, so I'm going to paint you in cum instead," he said casually before allowing himself a self-indulgent swat at her ass,

delighting in the way her flesh jiggled for him. She squirmed against his mattress, but he wasn't sure if it was from discomfort or something else. Before he had a chance to ask her anything though, he heard her say with a borderline tone of supplication, "God, why is this making me so horny? Having you use me like a dirty little whore should repulse me, but my body just wants you to keep fucking me hot and nasty." He felt a smile spread across his face as he allowed his free hand to slip leisurely from her ass to her pussy so he could feel the extent of her arousal. As he teasingly stroked the outer lips of her cunt in time with his hand running over his cock, he said matter-of-factly, "Because, I know you. I know how tightly locked down you've had to keep your life—even going to law school—just to achieve everything you've accomplished, but doing that means you've never been able to fuck up and show people you're as human as anyone else. But I see you. And here, with me, right now, you can give up your control, you can be flawed, and most importantly, that's ok. Just because you're a needy little slut who craves being taken over and over by a thick, juicy cock, doesn't take away from anything else you've accomplished. Isn't that right?" The hand on his cock had picked up speed with every word out of his mouth, so that by the time she said in a quiet whimper that "Yes, it was true" he could feel his orgasm about to rush through him. A moment later, hot sticky ropes of cum were shooting from his cock and landing on the pale expanse of her back from her shoulders to her ass cheeks. There was a pungency to the scent of his cum that he knew was influenced by his ill-advised diet of hamburgers over the last week, and he couldn't deny feeling a twinge of guilt when he noticed some of his malodorous jizz had managed to wind up in her hair. Even though everything in his body was telling him to lay down and sleep after having such a forceful orgasm, the last remaining scrap of chivalry he had told him she'd likely be more comfortable if she could get cleaned up before his cum dried on her skin like glue—and, selfishly, he didn't especially want his nose to keep being assaulted by the unmistakable scent of sex that was clinging to her skin. Giving her ass a gentle pat, he said, "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." * Even though her muscles had protested something fierce as she'd tried to stand

up straight after being bent over his bed for so long, she couldn't deny that the thought of potentially smelling and feeling like an itchy cum dumpster for several more hours was motivation enough to get her to follow him into his en suite bathroom. For an attached master bathroom, she was taken aback by how relatively cozy it was. Instead of a double sink vanity and a large, ostentatious whirlpool bathtub like she'd half expected, there was no vanity—just an antiquelooking standalone porcelain sink directly underneath a sizeable medicine cabinet with a mirror—a generic white toilet set back next to what appeared to be a deep-set linen/towel closet, all of which was separated from a tidy-looking shower stall with a frosted glass door. As she was taking in the sparseness of the room, he'd moved over to the stall and was getting the shower ready. Given the sheer minimalism of everything else in the bathroom, she was caught off guard when she happened to glance up at the shower head that was starting to spew steam into the close space: instead of the basic, fixed-position aluminum appliance she was expecting, there was an elaborate-looking device the size of a small dinner plate that looked like it required a mechanical engineering degree to use. She heard a warm chuckle float through the increasing curtain of steam, and she glanced up to see him staring at her through the open stall door as he pressed himself as close to the back of the shower as he could manage. Her mouth went dry. It was the first time that she'd actually gotten to see more of him exposed than his forearms, and she was not remotely prepared. Even though she wanted to appear unfazed, she couldn't stop herself from openly gaping at him. His chest was well-toned, but not so built up that his veins were bulging from his pecs, and he had a light dusting of brown hair decorating his sternum. What really drew her attention though were a handful of small, shiny patches of skin—scars, she realized vaguely—littering his chest. Her eyes dropped lower and she spied his meticulously shaved crotch along with his semi-flaccid cock. In staring at his partially deflated cock, her mind struggled to comprehend just how he'd managed to fit any of it inside her, and she found herself more than a little thankful he'd opted to fuck her rather than ask for head. His cock started to twitch back to life the more she stared at him, and she was so transfixed that she didn't realize he'd been trying to get her attention until his unyielding voice intoned, "Get in the shower. You're starting to smell like a brothel." The candidness of his words finally broke through her temporary lust haze, and she found herself walking over to him on autopilot. As she stepped into the stall, she braced herself for a sudden faceful of water only to find he'd adjusted the shower head toward the wall. She shot him a grateful smile as she closed the

stall door behind her and tried to figure out where to stand. As she'd suspected from everything else about his bathroom, the shower—although not strictly built for one—was not really built to accommodate two people either. With only about a foot of space between them, she was struggling to figure out how they were both going to be able to shower at the same time. As if he were reading her thoughts, he said, "If you stand with your face to the wall, it'll give us some more space, and we can take turns cleaning each other off." "Sounds good," she said, the echo from the stall amplifying her voice, which caused her to internally cringe as she turned away from him. She felt his looming presence behind her and her pussy started throbbing from his proximity. Although he'd been more than considerate with their anal foreplay, she hadn't cum from their earlier fucking even though his cock had stimulated nerves inside her that had made her feel like she might've been building up to another orgasm. The next thing she knew, she felt the strong pressure of therapeutic water jets beating against her skin along with the gentle exfoliation of a wet terry cloth towel rubbing over her back. She couldn't the last time someone had actually taken the time to bathe her and she melted into the decadent comfort of the sensations from the water and his hand. As he'd moved the water over her skin, she hadn't been able to contain her contented hums, which reverberated around the enclosed space. Feeling the water jets get closer to her lower back, she instinctively widened her stance a little more. For a second, she thought she felt him step closer to her, but she brushed it off. A moment later, she heard what she thought was a quiet click as if the setting on the shower head had been adjusted. The next thing she knew, a concentrated jet of water was pulsing directly against her pussy. She wordlessly moaned from the unexpected stimulation. Reaching one of her hands down to her pussy, she spread the lips of her cunt wider to give the water jet direct access to her clit. The water quickly found its target, and she felt her earlier feelings of impending orgasm start returning. Her mind was so focused on what was happening between her legs that it took her a minute to realize her breasts were simultaneously being stimulated by his terry cloth towel. The gentle scrape of the towel against her sensitive skin along with his fingers periodically pinching and pulling on her nipples with the towel was too much for her. As the water pulsed against her clit, she let out one last, loud, wordless moan as her second orgasm of the night overtook her.

As she leaned heavily against the stall wall, she felt the rhythmic lulling of her head being massaged, and she couldn't help but purr contentedly at the thoroughness of his attentions. Within a few minutes, the steady pressure from his fingers was replaced by multiple streams of water as he finished washing the shampoo out of her hair, and a feeling of pure contentment swept over her. "My turn," she said with an unexpected amount of huskiness in her voice. "Swap." There really wasn't enough space for them to move around each other in the small space, but they tried anyway—her breasts getting smushed against his bicep, accidentally pinching her nipples, as he worked to get their lower legs untangled without one of them slipping and twisting a knee. When they finally got their positions reversed, he reached up to unhook the extendable shower head from where he'd replaced it and handed it to her, all while leaning against the stall wall to give her the same amount of space to work that he'd had. Looking around, she found a second washcloth that she assumed had to at least be marginally cleaner than the one he'd used to wash all of his cum off her along with what she figured must've been a bar of charcoal soap based on its color and the tiny bubbles still clinging to its surface. She rubbed the bar of soap repeatedly over the wet terry cloth until she was satisfied with the amount of lather she'd worked up. The wet rag left a telltale trail of bubbles as she moved it in hypnotic circles over his back, steadily working her way from the broad expanse of his shoulders to the "dimples" she could just about make out on his lower back. When her hand worked its way down to his ass, she took the opportunity to shamelessly grope him—purely in the interest of being "thorough"—making note of the low growls that escaped his lips as she kneaded his flesh through the wet cloth barrier. Her hand slid over his hip bone and she instinctively stepped into his space, pressing her breasts against his back, as she began methodically washing his semi-flaccid cock along with his balls. With the exception of one hiss that had slipped out of his mouth after she'd accidentally twisted his balls while she'd been rubbing him down with the washcloth, he'd been downright stoic as she'd taken her time cleaning his crotch. She relathered the washcloth before she started washing his chest and his arms, and she had to remind herself not to press a small kiss to his shoulder blade as she went up on tiptoe to reach the upper portion of his chest. Eventually, she

finished rinsing all of the soap suds off his torso, and she once again found herself thinking about how she could easily spend hours mapping every curve and imperfection on his body. Nudging the handle of the shower head back into his hand, she said, "I'm done with this unless there was something else you wanted cleaned," her voice just barely rai at the end in a question. For a few seconds, she wasn't entirely sure if he'd heard her, but she eventually heard him reply in a gravelly rumble that he was "all good" before he reached up and set the shower head back in its cradle.

As he moved to turn the water off, her mind started thinking of what came next. In her experience, most one night stands didn't sleep over, and since he had technically cum already, she wasn't sure how much longer he really wanted her to stick around. That being said, he'd driven her to his house. Had he planned on driving her back into town so she could pick up her car, or was she going to have to call an Uber? If surge pricing was in effect, would he pay for her ride, or would he be ok with her waiting until the prices dropped? "I can practically hear your thoughts from here," he said with a smirk from outside the shower stall as he magically appeared with two unexpectedly luxurious towels. Handing over one of the towels as she stepped out of the stall, he added, "You really would be a terrible litigator. You've got no poker face at all." Her face twisted into a pinched moue for a second as she debated whether to take offense to his observation. Before she had a chance to say anything though, she found herself distracted as he casually dried himself off, giving her ample opportunity to ogle his lightly defined abs. Giving herself a mental shake, she started to dry her hair before wrapping the dampened towel around her body. She was still squeezing the excess water out of her hair when she heard him say, "I never said I was done with you. So, unless you want to go home, I'd intended on enjoying your body some more." His words took her a little by surprise, and she was grateful to have the ends of the towel partially obscuring her face because of the excited flush she could feel heating up her cheeks. When her face finally felt a little less red, she hazarded to

look over at him again. His towel was laying in a pile on the floor, and he was watching her intently in all his God-given glory. Her eyes instinctively went to his cock, only to find that he still had yet to fully regain his erection. Before she fully realized what she was doing, her eyebrow quirked in question as she said, "And just what else were you intending to do to my body?" A wolfish look spread across his face before he said in a tone that brooked no argument, "Get on my bed and find out." * He stood aside to let her out of the bathroom first and watched as she climbed gracefully on to his bed. She lay semi propped up amongst his phalanx of blue pillows, giving him the vague impression that she was a mermaid or a siren waiting in the water for him. Other than some dimmed recessed lighting, his bedroom was fairly dark, but he could still just about see a light intermittent sprinkling of freckles across her torso. The delicate beauty marks made for an interesting contrast with the bruises beginning to appear on her ass from his earlier spanking. His cock continued stirring to life, but he needed a little something more before he'd be hard enough to fuck her. He crossed the small space between his bathroom and his bed in two purposeful strides, climbing up onto it as gracefully as she had. Kneeling closer to the foot of his bed, he let the image of her—arms draped across his pillows like extended wings, legs closed and twisted to the side in an almost false modesty—burn deeply into his mind. Reaching for one leg, he wrapped his hand easily around one ankle, using his leverage to spread her legs open. Looking at her face, he noticed that all of her attention was on his semi-hard cock gently starting to bob between his legs. He couldn't help the smirk breaking out across his face as he watched her openly lusting for his cock. His fingers absently stroked the delicate skin along her ankle causing her breath to hitch ever so slightly while her nipples tightened into hardened nubs. Ghosting his hand up the back of her calf, he felt his cock continue thickening as her skin abruptly erupted in goosebumps and an involuntary shiver ed through her. "So responsive," he murmured to himself and she answered him with a small inarticulate whimper.

Raising her leg high enough, he hooked her ankle over his shoulder as he lowered himself closer to her pussy. Her smooth pussy was glistening from the shower and her continued arousal, and his mouth began to water as he thought about what she would taste like. She incrementally shifted around to give him better access to her cunt, and he stroked the outside of her thigh as she slipped her other leg over his shoulders. Even though he wanted to skip straight to fucking her with his mouth, he forced himself to tease her first. He pressed featherlight kisses along the crease of her thigh until she was writhing and soundlessly begging. "Unh-unh," he playfully chided, " to use your words now." She let out a high-pitched plaintive whine, which was accompanied by a sudden, sharp twist of his hair. The unexpected sting caught him by surprise and he growled instinctively in response. Her body shivered under his touch as the sound, which lead her to roll her hips in a "come here" gesture. When he didn't automatically take up her invitation, he heard her plead, "Please. I need to feel your tongue in my pussy. I need you to eat me out." Lightly flicking his tongue against the outside of her cunt, he teased, "Like this?" Her fingers twisted meaningfully in his hair before she said bluntly, "Fuck my goddamn cunt with your mouth now, you bastard, so help me God." He chuckled at the vulgar filth he inspired to spew from her mouth—it was such a one-eighty contrast to how she communicated at work, and he loved it, loved seeing her give in to the basest of her base instincts. Even though he knew she couldn't see him from his place between her legs based on how she was clutching his hair, he playfully mused, "Oh, you must've meant like this then" for her benefit, a moment before he started roughly licking her pussy. She let out an inarticulate sound that was some type of hybridized, bastardized moaning grunt or grunting moan as her hips popped up to get even closer to his mouth. His cock swelled at the sound, and he found himself unconsciously humping his mattress in time with each flick and swipe his tongue made along her sensitive clit. Although her fingers were no longer locked in his hair, she still had an iron grip on the back of his head, doing everything she could to keep his face burrowed against her crotch. As she shamelessly ground her cunt against his mouth, she

began babbling in a stream-of-conscious way: "I love how well you eat me out." "God, you fuck my pussy so well with your mouth." "I can't believe how horny you make me. I just need you to fuck my tight, little cunt over and over and over." "You make me such a greedy slut. I just need to cum for you so badly. I need to ride your tongue good and hard." Each nastier epithet out of her mouth made him groan against her, which in turn lead her to writhe more fiercely against his face. His cock was starting to ache from a familiar deep churning sensation in his balls, and he started mentally debating if he was going to let her cum on his tongue or if he was going to plunge his dick inside her instead. Before his thoughts could even stray too far down the path of temporary orgasm denial, she let out a string of high-pitched whimpers interspersed with "oh yeah," "just like that," "ohmygodI'msoclose," and "ugh, just a little more," as she humped his face more vigorously. A moment later, she gave one final moan before she began violently spasming against his mouth from the force of her orgasm. Her cunt clutched desperately at his tongue as he kept licking her through the aftershocks from cumming so hard until she weakly swatted at his head as she pleaded, "Please. It's too much. I can't handle it." He pushed himself up from her crotch without moving her legs first causing her to fold up on herself as her feet began rising perpendicular to her torso. With her body still limp from her most recent orgasm, her limbs gave him little resistance as he eventually leaned back over her body to kiss her, her knees pressing into her chest. She opened her mouth to his kiss and he slipped his tongue into her mouth as easily as if it were her cunt. Their tongues twisted against each other as he sought to have her taste as much of her arousal from his mouth as he could manage. She was softly whimpering into his mouth when his cock brushed the entrance to her sensitive pussy, and she suddenly bit his bottom lip. The unexpected sting was immediate and it reawakened his feral need to bend her to his will. He moved his hand from the breast he'd been squeezing as they kissed back down to

his dick and he lined himself up with her entrance. With a grunt, he pushed himself inside her impossibly tight pussy. * She bit his lip again as she clawed at his ass when she felt his cock finally split her pussy open. The stretch of him was nothing like she'd ever felt before, even with her extensive collection of sex toys at home. His cock felt like it was stimulating nerves in her cunt that she didn't even know she had, and the thought both thrilled her and terrified her as her mind once again struggled to imagine how he'd fit something so thick and massive inside her. His hips started to set a grueling pace as his balls slapped against her ass over and over again. As much as she wanted to try to keep up with him, the force of his thrusts was making it difficult for her to piston her hips to the rhythm he was setting. After several missteps, she eventually gave up and resolved to simply lay back and let him abuse her pussy as he would. Needing to do something besides just getting railed into his mattress like a dead fish, she started raking her nails along his back and shoulders. His head dropped forward with a groan as she scored up his skin, and she couldn't help but grin. Although she certainly didn't want this to be a one time thing (even if she wasn't able to walk or sit for the next few days), in case it did just turn out to be a "system purge" for both of them, she wanted to make damn sure that he ed her just as viscerally for the next several days. "Harder," he growled as she moved her fingers back up to his shoulders. Pressing her fingernails deeper into his skin, she slowly dragged her hands down his back, relishing the way his skin resisted the pull of her fingers. His eyes bored into hers and her breath hitched as she took stock of the pure lust that had turned his eyes nearly black from desire. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him. As her hand slipped around his back across his chest on its intended path to his neck, her fingernails lightly grazed across his nipple by accident. In a show of speed that she wasn't expecting and that set her heart racing, he suddenly ripped her hand from his chest and pinned it above her head. Her breath hitched as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "If you play dirty, then you don't play at all." Turning her head to the side, she quickly captured his unsuspecting lips with her

own, giving him a searing kiss. He moaned as she slipped her tongue inside the moist cavern of his mouth and her lips curved up into a self-satisfied grin. As she swallowed each of his sounds of want, she writhed more forcefully against him, rubbing her aching breasts against his chest as much as she could. His fingers wrapped themselves more tightly around her wrist, pressing into her delicate skin, until she was almost certain she'd have small circular bruises to cover up by next week. She pulled her mouth away from him as far as she could given their intimate position before cheekily nipping at his bottom lip, a note of challenge bleeding into her gaze. He grinned wolfishly at her continued insubordination before pulling his torso back from her chest. She whimpered in protest from the lack of his body heat, her own bottom lip displaying the faintest quiver as she pouted for a moment. His laughter suddenly filled the room as the snapping of his hips against her pussy took on greater urgency. Her cunt was beginning to feel numb from being overstimulated for hours after a far too long stretch of middling to mediocre lovers, but she couldn't deny how amazing it felt to be stuffed so full of cock. She was on the cusp of conceding defeat when one final act of defiance occurred to her. Without giving him any warning, she began squeezing his cock as hard as she could with her pussy before releasing him only to squeeze him again. The punishing rhythm of his hips faltered as he threw his head back with a deep groan, but not before he glowered briefly at her to let her know that he was fully aware of what she was doing. She batted her eyes innocently at him and gently nibbled on her bottom lip—every ounce of her being conveying a "butterwouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth" vibe. He groaned one last time before his hips stuttered once, then twice, before he spasmed against her in a series of little rapid jerks. He collapsed to the side of her with a small grunt. They lay in a tangle of limbs for a couple of minutes before she patted his thigh. Moving his leg to the side, she rolled off his bed before gingerly walking back over to his bathroom. When she came out a few minutes later, she looked from where her clothes were strewn around the floor to where the night vision green numbers on his alarm clock were illuminated. It was nearly 5 a.m. As she stood just across the door jamb of his bathroom wondering what the

correct protocol was for this situation—did she call her own ride? was he going to take her back to her car? Did she camp out creepily in his kitchen til he was fully awake so they could have The Talk?—his satiated voice floated quietly across the room to her as he sleepily half mumbled, "Can still hear your thoughts. Just come back to bed. We'll figure out whatever we need to over lunch." With a contented laugh, she padded back over to his bed before crawling under his disheveled comforter. Just as her eyes were beginning to close, she felt the sheets rustle before he rolled over, throwing his leg over her thigh and pulling her closer to his chest. She held her breath for a minute as she tried to figure out if he'd intended to cuddle with her. Before her thoughts started spiraling, he whispered "Mine" against the crown of her head, so quietly that she wasn't sure he meant her to hear him. A small ember of possessiveness sparked to life within her as the word bounced around her head. Mine. As the heat of his body lulled her into comfortable slumber, her last cogent thought was that he was hers as well.