7 comments/ 34066 views/ 2 favorites Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 01 By: Stardog Champion Its amazing the things the human mind can conjure given an extreme amount of boredom, misery or frustration. Given a healthy dose of all three at the exact same time, it stands to reason that even a rationale person might be tempted to stab a fountain pen all the way into their eye before puncturing their brain. For a few tedious seconds, 27 year old Pete Finnegan had to fend of the urge to do just that as he sat at his work desk, drowning in the miserable strains of the blue grass music coming from one of his co-worker's radio a few cubicles over. Granted the first puncturing stab would be painful, but considering the Chinese water torture accumulation of each dreadful note seeping into his ears, quick death wasn't such a bad option. Dropping said pen down on the pile of files scattered across his desk before he actually did go through with it, Petey (as his friends back in Greenwich, Ct called him) leaned back in his rickety, third hand office chair, put his hands behind his head and sighed disgustedly. Staring up at the dingy tiles lining the ceiling, Pete cursed every decision, big and small, that eventually landed him in that rural, west Kentucky town. "Maybe if I could just get my rocks off every now and then in this backwards cow pasture, things wouldn't be so bad," Pete groaned to himself as he surveyed the female fare surrounding him in the office. The few attractive women were all either married or so fucking religious, it wasn't worth the time or aggravation to even broach the subject. There were plenty of willing girls out at the bars in the area each and every night, but the last thing he needed was an STD complicating his already sour mood. There was one girl close to his age that worked in the treasure's office one floor down named Gwendolyn Garst who'd somewhat struck his fancy, and Pete made a mental note to swing by her desk on the way home later that afternoon just to chat her up a little. For now however, he could only lean forward and put his head back down in the pile of files littering his shrimpy desk. The work for an understaffed public defender's office in such a meth riddled town never ended. "If I'd just listened to some of Dad's advice, I wouldn't be stuck in this Dixie Hell right now," God those words hurt to hear, even if he was only saying them inside his own head. Pete had been an honors student back at his old Catholic high school, and his first two years at Dartmouth had gone off without a hitch. It wasn't until his Junior year that life in the fast lane started to catch up with him. Even then, he was still able to knock his final two years of undergraduate out in five semesters. Then came the decision about what to do for the rest of his life. While he got his degree in Economics, he knew he didn't have the discipline to immediately look for a job on Wall Street, and given the unstable nature of the economy he decided to just cool his heels for awhile and enjoy himself. After about a year or so, his mom and dad really started lighting a fire beneath Petey to get him out of the house. Deciding the one field where there would always be work, he decided to take stab a law school. Somehow passing his LSAT's on the first try, he still didn't get many bites from any Ivy League programs. Having to settle for a school decidedly further down on the list of prestigious programs, Pete did eventually earn his degree. He thought about taking the bar exam closer to home in Connecticut or New York, but for a arrogant and snot-nosed kid that finished third from the bottom in his graduating class, his immediate entry level job prospects were slim. Another one of his law school comrades came across a couple of job listings down south and against his better judgment he took the bar exam in Kentucky and passed. Pete's father had maintained he could pull a few strings and maybe get him on somewhere closer up the Northeast corridor, but Pete was determined to prove he could blaze a trail on his own. It wasn't long before he realized all that trailblazing stuff was vastly overrated. Pete knew he was out of his element from day one but it wasn't until he saw a screening of the 'Wall Street' sequel last year that it truly hit home just how much fun he could be having (Not to mention the money he could be making) if he let his dad work a few of his business connections back in New York. Pushing through a caseload of assault charges, DUI arrests and every way, shape and form of possession cases, Pete daydreamed quite freely about how his life might look with an office overlooking Manhattan instead of the dreary and run down strip mall providing the backdrop of his current lot. "Got one hot off the presses for ya, Finnegan," his boss, Landon Dyer bellowed as he swept into the office. "That Stone lady is in trouble again..the one with the sexpot daughter...she drove headlong into a pick-up out on Ridge Road last night. Bitch aint had a license in years...she was drunk and had some crank on her. Lucky bastard she hit is gonna pull through but she's facing some jail time this time around..probably be best to plea it down. Get down there to the jail to talk to her before she sobers up and starts blabbin' everything." "Shit runs downhill," Pete couldn't help but laugh as he took the Stone file from his Boss' hand, having grown quite accustomed to being the low man on the office totem pole. Truth be known, you weren't truly considered part of the club in the McCracken County public defender's office until you'd handled a case involving someone from the Stone's quite mangled family tree, and this was Pete's turn. __________________ Pete's meeting with Rhonda Stone at the jail went pretty much as everyone at the office had warned. First off, the woman was lucky to be alive given the havoc her wreck had caused. Scanning the police report along with the sketched rendering of how the cops thought the accident unfolded, it looked as if she'd escaped relatively unscathed considering the damage in the pictures. The man she'd hit was at the hospital in stable condition. From the way it looked in the report, it appeared as if he'd swerved suddenly coming around a curve to miss Rhonda, and when he did, he overcompensated on the dark and winding stretch of Ridge Road, crashing into a couple of trees once he went over the shoulder. On first glance through the police narrative of the charges, Pete could already start poking a few holes in it. There really wasn't anything concrete to prove Rhonda was the one on the wrong side of the road when the wreck happened. Granted her lack of sobriety, and the drugs she had on her at the time of her arrest were problematic, but Pete keenly noted no such test was given to the man in the accident, and his vehicle along with his pockets weren't searched for any sort of contraband either. All they had to go on was his groggy and less than definitive statement before they took him away in the ambulance. There were a few other tantalizing legal loop-holes Pete spotted in the report, but something far more amusing had caught his attention as he tried to talk to his still somewhat tweaked out client. "I know they don't feed the inmates Krispy-Kremes or vanilla milkshakes for breakfast around here," Pete had to stifle a knowing laugh seeing the hint of glazed residue crusting the corners of the 34 year old woman's lips. Making a mental note to check all the guards to see which one(s) might have a little extra pep in their step on his way out the door, Pete finished up his standard jailhouse review of the case before setting up a bond hearing for Ms. Stone ___________________ Back in his office a few hours later, night had fallen over Kentucky's western edge and Pete Finnegan was researching legal briefs for several cases on his docket due in court next week. His late night visits to the office had become increasingly frequent since taking the job in Paducah. It sure beat sitting home alone in his sparsely furnished apartment, the internet there was free and the atmosphere to get things done was far more calm without anyone hovering over his shoulder, not to mention no Blue Grass music cackling in the air. He definitely missed going out, but given the 'Hee-Haw on crack' vibe of the area's nightlife along with the fear of getting caught up in something messy, Pete generally kept to himself. Even though the people in the office had warmed to him, he knew he was still an outsider, and if the shit did hit the fan, Pete knew given his background, he wouldn't get the benefit of the doubt if he got caught up in the spokes of the 'Good ol' Boys Wheel'. His head stuffed inside a law book a little after 9 that Thursday night, a sound down the hallway caused him to look up. "Just the janitor," he immediately thought, but was a little uneasy since he didn't hear the telltale jingle of the custodian's keys as he made his rounds. Trying to re-focus his attention on the case law in front of him, Pete visibly jumped back in his seat when the shadowy frame of a young woman ducked her head in the door of the dimly lit office. "Hey.....Can I talk to you?" he heard her ask in a dreamy and somewhat disengaged tone. Even in the scant light, Pete had a pretty good idea who the stranger was. From the girl's slack jaw and sleepy, hound dog eyes to the wiggling gait to her walk, he would have pegged her before she beat him to it. "My mom's Rhonda Stone...I'm her daughter Jenny..I think someone in this office is taking on her case," he heard her say as she slowly sauntered up to the desk. "That would be me," Pete managed to reply as the young girl approached. "You might want to come back in the morning though..I'm sort of busy with a few other things." "She was driving my car the other night when she had her wreck," she started in a dry, emotionless tone. "I was kind nosing around to see if its still drivable?" Pete had to lean back in his chair and shake the cobwebs out of his head for a second or two, trying to make sure he heard the Jenny right. "I don't know," he drew in a deep breath. "I took a look at some of the pictures from the crash..its gonna need a lot of body work...car that old...its probably totaled." Pete could sense the girl's disappointment, but before he could call her on her callousness, she changed the subject. "How long do you think she's gonna spend in jail this time?" "If we can get her bonded out, maybe none," the lawyer looked across his desk and said with measured optimism. "There are a few promising leads to work through." "You won't get her off," Jenny cracked with resolute and humored defiance. "Cyrus Ridgeway is the County Prosecutor. He never loses." Pete immediately felt a dose of poison ivy flowing through his blood stream when his competitive streak suddenly got tweaked. Knowing he was the lowest pee-on in the public defenders office, he hadn't given it the first thought that he may be matched up with the county's top dog prosecutor. If it had just been a simple DUI or possession case, Pete was sure he'd be matched up with one of those newbies from the prosecutors office, but given the extra charges attached to Rhonda Stone's predicament, his stomach did roll a couple of times as he tried putting on a brave face. "Oh...I'm not worried about that..the facts of the case are the facts of the case," he replied in his best 'whistling through the graveyard' voice. "You're new around here," Jenny eased up to the side of his desk and assessed, much the same way an attorney might talking to a jury. "And that accent..I know you ain't from Kentucky, Mr. Finnegan," she added after stealing a peek at the nameplate on his desk. "Connecticut actually," Pete offered without missing a beat, but could instantly tell his reply did nothing to spark any professional faith on young Miss Stone's part. "Cyrus Ridgeway has been the DA ever since I was born..nobody builds their resume going up against him. Even if he doesn't have the facts on his side, he's got plenty of people on his side," Jenny spoke with zapping clarity. As hard as he tried not to, Pete couldn't help admiring the feminine form that had perched itself beside him. Jenny wasn't exactly a pretty girl, at least not by the standards he'd grown use to back home. She had a relatively plain, pale face adorned with a few freckles, and other than perhaps a thin layer of eye liner, she didn't have a speck of make-up on. She wasn't exactly thin either, but the extra weight she carried on her 5 foot 4 inch frame was proportioned judiciously. While the tight, body hugging dress Jenny wore certainly wasn't flattering in a classic sense, the plunging neckline along with the hem that came halfway up her thighs did stir attention in any man who still claimed a pulse. Seeing her stare blankly out the window at the darkened downtown landscape, Pete lost himself for just a second in her alluring and voluptuous side profile. He may have even gotten away with it if he hadn't let out an embarrassingly incriminating deep breath. Jennifer Renee Stone wasn't the brightest light in the chandelier. Her genetics had put her behind the 8-ball almost from the moment of conception, and if that wasn't enough to curse her fate, the example set forth from the day she was born cemented it. Having dropped out of school before her 10th grade year certainly didn't help her prospects for the future, the fact that she had dozens of other friends to run with who were pretty much in the same boat ultimately would define her destiny. The one skill she'd been blessed with was the ability to see through most anyone's bullshit. It was a gene that her Mother had passed down, but if anything, Jenny had only sharpened it even further. Continuing to stare out the window as she sensed the young lawyer distractedly trying to keep his focus to her right, Jenny could literally smell his growing unease. "You're kinda cute," she said without turning around, then took a great deal of amusement in the way Pete's tongue twisted in his mouth. "...I'm ....kind of busy," he managed to mumble, but his eyes were lost in the netherworld between Jenny and the research material covering his desk. Pete had never given the concept of pheromones much thought until that moment. Each time he tried to inhale a fresh breath, his head swooned from the invisible scent of the girl at the window's arousal. Having already been at work for going on 12 hours that day, Pete eyes were already growing hazy. Given the way that haze only thickened each time Jenny so much as shifted beside him, Pete could feel his brain (and good judgment) beginning to disconnect. "There are a few other people working in the building at night..I see them all the time," Pete rubbed his fingers through his hair as he nodded towards the open door, and the well lit hallway leading in both directions out of it. "Only saw the janitor on my way up...he let me in," Jenny said, now turning to face Pete sitting in the chair. "And that's Elmer..I've known his family forever..went to middle school with his little brother Troy. Elmer's sorta slow as I'm sure you noticed..he'll do anything in the world for ya though as long as you tell him. I kinda asked him nicely if he'd stay on the first floor till I came back down." A baffled look froze for the moment on Pete's face. "Look..the last thing I need is someone stumbling in here in the middle of the night and seeing me with an underage girl in my office," Pete sighed. "I'm 18 Mr. Finnegan," Jenny coyly batted her eyes. "You can look me up on that computer of yours...I've got a little bit of a record. Most of it's sealed I'm sure from my juvie file, but you should be able to find me in there..do you want my social?" "Better yet," she added before Pete could reply. "I've got a few tattoos..real nice ones..you know its against the law for artists to tattoo anyone under 18 don't you Mr. Finnegan." At 27, Pete hated being called 'Mister' by anyone outside of the courtroom, especially when it was delivered with such playful condescension. Still, the hair on the back of his neck was standing nearly as erect as the lump of cartilage tucked inside his pants. "No Miss Stone..I don't want to see your tattoo," Pete tried to return the dose of condescension, but for someone who took pride in his courtroom delivery, his voice came out a tad froggy. "It really is great work..very unique..I'm willing to bet you've never seen another woman with one quite like it," Jenny continued to prod as she took another step closer. The bright, fluorescent light shining into the office from the hallway outside gradually faded as Pete edged closer to the abyss. Even though he was easily a half a foot taller and a good 60 pounds heavier than the girl beside him, Pete could feel the real and tangible weight of the girl's presence. Jenny suddenly took on the persona of some sort of sexual nymph capable of paralyzing any man with the flutter of her eyelashes. "Get up and get out of here right now," Pete's good sense tried to scream inside his head, but it had long since abdicated the wheel. "You're gonna flip your desk over if your dick gets any harder pushing up against the bottom of it," Jenny gave a gleaming smile and giggled, once again leaving Pete speechless. "You haven't got laid since you moved here from 'Connecticut' have you?" she then chided, paying special attention to the way she pronounced his home state in her distinctive southern twang. Unable to keep any sort of sustained eye contact with Jenny for fear of giving away just how quickly he was losing control of his good sense, it did him no favors when his gaze suddenly settled on the fullness of the girl's ample bosom. Pete's teeth even grinded together and he was forced to swallow hard when he saw Jenny's nipples protruding the front of her top like two straining bullets. The pressure only intensifying in his crotch, Pete once again tried lowering his gaze to a safe level, only to have it fall on the pale white contours of Jenny's meaty thighs. The lamp on his desk providing limited light, Pete's first thought was there had to be a loose thread from the hem of Jenny's dress dangling against her smooth, creamy skin. The longer he focused however, the less sense that made. Jenny's dress was white and the thread-like shape was a perfect shade of black. Instantly, Pete's pupils narrowed as he tried to determine just what he was seeing on the inside of the girl's left thigh. Pete had, in fact, gotten laid several times since taking the job in Paducah, the most recent being a few weeks earlier when a guy from the office invited him up to a college party across the state line in Evansville. Hooking up with a couple of sorority sisters that weekend had quenched Pete's appetite for awhile, but as he sat there at his desk, literally cornered now between Jenny and the window, he had the expression of a high school virgin who was on the verge of seeing a girl naked for the very first time. "You keep looking at my fuse," Jenny patted her fingers down to the spot Pete was staring at on her thigh. "...Fuse?" the cotton mouthed lawyer stuttered. "My fuse," the young temptress repeated before casually inching the hem of her skirt higher up her leg. In near perfect symmetry, Pete's eyes expanded and the same rate Jenny was inching her skirt up. What he first thought was a loose thread dangling against her leg turned out to be a thinly drawn tattoo that snaked steadily up towards her crotch. Not only did Pete's eyes expand, but his nostrils flared as well as the scent of the 18 year old girl's sex overwhelmed his palate. The last remaining shred of prudence in his head begging him to steal another glance at the door to make sure no one was coming up the hallway, there was nothing short of a grenade exploding in his office that was going to divert Pete's attention away from the young girl's methodical advances. Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 01 The tattoo made absolutely no sense to Pete as he followed the dark, thin line up the pale canvas of Jenny's flesh. Just as the young girl had said, the tattoo was of all things, a fuse. Starting halfway down the inside of her left thigh, the line weaved its way upwards, over the spot where her leg attached to her pelvis then quickly dipped down until it ended right at the apex of Jenny's vaginal slit. There was a vivid orangish flame just above the girl's pussy, giving the flowering fissure the appearance of a stick of dynamite exploding in pink radiant folds when she was aroused, which at this moment she was in spades. "Told ya so," Jenny laughed as she hiked her skirt all the way up to her waist for Pete to see. "I knew you never seen a girl with one of these before." Pete pretty much melted in his seat when Jenny reached out with her left hand and rubbed her soft fingers through his hair while seductively dipping the fingers of her right into her fiery quim. While it wasn't exactly the heat streaming from a blast of TNT, Pete could clearly feel the warmth simmering from Jenny's cunt as she churned it directly in front of his face. The tips of her fingernails scrubbing across his scalp as he sat there trapped between her, the window and his desk, Pete could feel a spittle of drool forming on the inside of his lower lip. "Don't be afraid of it, Mr. Finnegan...come on..reach up here and stick your finger inside it," Jenny taunted. "....I...this is my office..I ..can't....,'" Pete tried to raise his hands in protest but all he accomplished was getting them entangled with Jenny's arms. Clutching her hand around the back of Pete's head, Jenny easily pulled the much bigger man forward until his face was right up against the swells of her breasts. "Pull my top down," she whispered down to Pete before pulling her fingers from her glistening honey pot and wiping the glaze across his lips. Seeing the testosterone soaked intoxication in Pete's stare, Jenny filled with an exquisite rush of satisfaction and power, as if she was experiencing her true calling in life. Keeping her grip tight on the side of Pete's head, Jenny watched as he slipped the material of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms to the point that both her milky white titties finally spilled free. The cool air of the office causing her already stiff nipples to plump even more, it wasn't long before Pete's warm mouth closed first around the left one, then the right. The weight of her bosom resting now in his eager and needy hands, a sizzling rush of energy bounced up and down Jenny's spine as he hungrily nibbled, sucked and chewed. When Pete's right hand slipped between her thighs, Jenny wasted no time willingly spreading them further apart for him. Wrapping her hand around the back of his, Jenny helped Pete trace the twisting line of the fuse tattoo all the way up until his fingers were at the gates of her frothing womb. Instead of stealing a quick peek at the door to make sure no one was there, Jenny curiously looked in the opposite direction, taking a few seconds to survey the darkened landscape out the window before helping the Pete jab his extended index and middle fingers inside her. Jenny's power trip was amplified further when she began squeezing the well trained muscles of her cunt around Pete's two fingers. Feeling the air rush out from his lungs and whistle across her breasts each time she made another pelvic constriction, Jenny eyes sparkled seeing the way the lawyer's cock twitched like a caged animal in his pants. "That feels so fucking good," she leaned down and told Pete as his fingers and tongue worked in fiendish unity. Pulling her dress all the way up to her waist then lowering her top down to her belly until the entire piece of clothing resembled a chunky white belt around her midriff, Jenny gracefully spun 180 degrees until her beautifully rounded behind was staring Pete in the face. "I'm gonna climb up on your desk Mr. Finnegan," Jenny looked back over her shoulder and said, then leaned all the way forward until her pink and seething vaginal orchid was all the older man could see. "I want you to eat me out....get me off Mr. Finnegan and then I'll do anything you want!" Pete's head cleared for just a sliver of a moment as Jenny stepped back, allowing the potential powder keg of things to creep back into his mind. Before the gravity of his predicament could take root however, Pete watched in utter amazement as the nimble young girl made her way up on his desk until she was standing with her tits and pussy exposed directly above him. Sitting erect in his rickety office chair, Pete looked straight up at Jenny stroking her bald pink fissure, his breathing slow and labored as she churned the cast-off of her vaginal nectar down across his cheeks and brow. He could hear Jenny's feet scrunching down on his legal pads and scattered notes, but he wasn't about to take his eyes off the nearly naked girl dancing on his desk. Pete sat there perfectly still when Jenny extended her right leg out, pressing her foot down on the window sill to the side of his left shoulder. Feeling her shadow creep all the way over top of him in the dim lamp light, Pete heard her grab ah old of the horizontal rod supporting the curtains before she put her left foot down on the sill as well. Like a stripper hanging from a support rail above the edge of the stage, Jenny lowered herself down until Pete could clamp his mouth against her juicy cunt. Sandwiching her thighs together around Pete's head as she bucked her crotch up and down, Jenny had a clear view outside to the sleepy street below and cast downtown Paducah a wicked and satisfied smile as the unsuspecting lawyer devoured the sweet and tangy offering she'd provided. _______________ Jenny could make herself cum nearly anytime she wanted. Having grown so in tune with her body over the years, it was a nice skill to have considering some of the mouthbreathers and drunken slobs she'd been intimate with for one reason or another. As for this particular evening, Jenny's psychic sexual powers didn't need to come into play. Between the depravity of the moment, and Pete Finnegan's tongue working a thousand miles an other on her clit, cumming wasn't going to be a problem. Caressing both her hands down on top of the older man's head as he feverishly ate her out, Jenny could feel him grip her ass with both of his hands and shove her crotch forward until it was mashed against his churning lips. "OHHHHHHFFFUUCCCCKKKKKK.. OHHHHHSHIT YYYEEEEEZZZZZZZZFFUUCCKKKK," she yelped out when her release tripped. The chair beneath Pete straining and squeaking as she anxiously rutted on top of his mouth, when Jenny finally stepped back and plopped her bare ass down on his desk, she could see the glistening and shiny mask of her vaginal spray coating every inch of the lawyer's face. "Now its' your turn," she crooned before spinning around, bending over, and putting her elbows down on his cluttered desk. For someone of Pete's intellect and educational background, he should have known all this was too good to be true. Having a hot girl (at least local standards) come into his office at that time of the night and basically undress and offer her body up to him no questions asked only happened in Penthouse Letters (and a hand full of adult fiction sites on the internet). Of course, men far more prominent than he had committed transgressions far worse than his when they'd caught a whiff of a needy woman's lust. The syrupy residue of that aforementioned lust now saturating his face, there was only one possible outcome when the girl in question propped herself up on her hands and knees on the desk directly in front of him. Ripping down his zipper and pulling the blood filled slab of gristle free from it's constraints, Pete stepped forward and shoved his prick between Jenny's slippery folds with merciless ease. In the back of Pete's mind he momentarily thought about the number of men she'd likely been with over the years, and he did glance over at his jacket hanging up across the room knowing there was a spare condom inside his wallet. Considering the way Jenny's pussy quickly began its velvet constrictions around his cock however, Pete gave up the ghost on grabbing the rubber. Knowing he wasn't going to last very long inside Jenny given his state of desperation along with the girl's apparent sexual prowess, Pete wrapped his hands around her waist and franticly began hurling his groin forward. Just as he felt the first twinges of his impending release, an all too familiar sound filtered into his head. "Shit..it's Elmer," the clearly agitated lawyer spat, hearing the telltale jingle of the custodian's keys as he walked towards the room. "I thought you said...," Pete tried to question Jenny, but with the efficiency and smoothness of a minx, she'd pulled her crotch away, spun around onto her behind then jumped up from the desk to Pete's right. "What the fuck?" he snapped in a harsh and haggard whisper. Jenny made no attempt to answer him, simply jiggling around as she worked the top and bottom of her dress back to where they were supposed to be. Pushing himself up closer to his desk so it would hide the fact that his cock was still hanging out, Pete watched with sickening awe as Jenny gave a pleasant nod and smile to the janitor as he strolled past the room. "I've got to go..thanks for everything," was all Jenny said before she turned and exited the office. Pete just sat there with his mouth agape for more than a minute until he finally leaned forward and pounded his hands down several times on the desk. "What the fuck just happened?" he asked to the chorus a silence now surrounding him. A chorus that was soon broken by the sudden ring of his cellphone. The last thing Pete wanted to do at that time of the night, and in his frame of mind, was to talk to anyone on the phone. Over and over it kept ringing until it finally tripped to voicemail. Going through the indignity of stuffing his unquenched cock back inside his fly, Pete tugged the zipper back up then reached over to see who'd called. He didn't recognize the number that popped up. Pressing the button to listen to the recorded message, Pete rolled his eyes and collapsed all the way back in his seat when he heard Rhonda Stone's voice. Now he officially knew his day couldn't get any worse. She was calling from a payphone at the county jail where she'd just made bond. Unfortunately, she'd had a fight with her boyfriend who just decided to drive off and leave her there. "Your goddamn daughter was just in here giving me blueballs," Pete groaned loud enough to at least make himself feel better as he listened to the older woman's rambling message. "Guess it would be too much to ask for her to call a cab," he grumbled as he jotted down the number Rhonda provided. It wasn't exactly in a public defender's call of duty to provide taxi service for their clients. Sitting there stewing in the events of the evening, Pete knew nothing good would come from calling the troubled woman back. Considering the legal machine Pete was up against, Rhonda's background and the apparent facts of the case, he didn't think he had much of a chance to win the case. All Pete really wanted was to go home, pour a glass or two of the fine whiskey they made in that part of the country and just let the fallout of the day fade away. Having just been through what he had with the woman's daughter, Pete didn't even know if he could look Rhonda square in the eye. Even though every checkmark he could think of went in the 'not calling her back' column, if Pete did have any hope of winning the case, the last thing he needed was Rhonda showing up somewhere she shouldn't before he could get things to trial. ______________ Ms. Stone was standing out front of the county jail just like she said she would. Dressed in the same pair of tight jeans and plunging top she was wearing the night of the accident, Pete could also see the same expression of vacant ambivalence she had when he'd talked to her earlier about the charges. "Hope no one down here recognizes me," Pete said to himself when he reached over to let Rhonda in the car. Not having ventured to some of the more rural outposts of the area since he moved to Paducah, Pete had no clue where he was going. Allowing Rhonda to guide him through the maze of narrow back country roads, Pete felt incredibly queasy realizing his fate was in her hands. He did have a navigation system he could have easily entered Rhonda's address in to, but even in his current predicament, the last thing he was about to do was show that sort of directional ineptitude with a woman sitting in the car beside him. Considering his state of mind, thankfully Rhonda wasn't much of the small talk type. Doing everything he could to steer away from any mention of the woman's daughter, or frankly her legal matters at the moment, the older woman eventually uttered something that completely took Pete by surprise. "I saw the way you were looking at me when we were talking earlier..didn't realize it until I walked past a mirror..I guess I don't clean up as well as I use to," she offered with bland, matter of factness before lighting a cigarette. Knowing exactly what she was referring to but not wanting to acknowledge it, Pete tightened his grip on the wheel and kept driving. "I really don't like anyone.... smoking in..," he began before Rhonda curtly interrupted. "I'll roll down the window," she spat, making it clear this was a argument he wasn't gonna win. Sometime during the silence that ensued after Rhonda lit her Marlboro 100 and started puffing away, Pete drove right past a hidden county sheriff deputy's car. Even though there hadn't been a MPH sign along that stretch of road in 20+ years, the amount of revenue tickets from that speed trap generated plenty of money for the McCracken County coffers. Pulling out behind the car that was topping 50 on the dark and winding road, Deputy Wayne Wurley waited to run the vehicle's tags before turning on his flashing blues. When he got the name of the registered owner back however, Wurley decided to follow along at a safe distance a little longer. _______________ "How you think I got these cigarettes smuggled in to me while I was in jail?" Rhonda asked in a 'what sorta answer you got for that, Mr. Smartypants' tone. "Figured maybe they forgot to do a cavity search when they processed you," Pete amazed even himself by such a witty and spontaneous comeback. Rhonda rolled her eyes and tossed the half smoked cigarette out the window as if the young lawyer's sarcasm had momentarily ruined her craving for nicotine. Behind his poker faced gaze, Pete knew how she'd gotten a hold of the pack of smokes, but once again, he didn't want to go there. "Why didn't your boyfriend drive you home from jail?" Pete was now the one wanting to fill the holes of silence. "Cuz he's an asshole," was her simple an all encompassing reply. "How about your daughter?" he asked, immediately cringing for even broaching the subject of Jenny. "Cuz she's a bitch AND an asshole," Rhonda never missed a beat. "That..and she didn't answer her phone." Pete didn't know whether to chuckle or cry when he thought back to what he and Rhonda's daughter were doing in his office while she was apparently looking for a ride home. "Roscoe's one of the guards down at the jail...he's been working down there since I was getting in trouble as a teenager..its almost like tradition now..I give him a blowjob and he gets me something to help make my stay a little easier." "How romantic," Pete sighed, wanting to look over and gauge Rhonda's expression to see if she was actually being serious, but decided to keep his gaze trained forward out the windshield. "Guess if I can get Roscoe off..there's no reason I can't give a little thanks and added motivation to the guy who's gonna be defending me. None of the other lawyers they've sent me for the public defenders office have done squat over the years..maybe its time I try something else," Rhonda words buzzed like stinging insects through Pete's ears. Keeping his eyes locked on the road, Pete wanted to ask her how far to the house but couldn't quite get his tongue to work. "But that would be a violation of ethics, wouldn't it," Rhonda piped back up in her most sarcastic and lawyerly tone. "Guess ethics just aint my strong suit." A few more seconds of hardboiled silence filled the cab of Pete Finnegan's Impala. So concerned with either missing a turn or having to swerve to miss a deer, he couldn't keep his peripheral vision locked on Rhonda. Thus, it was a bolt from the blue when he suddenly felt his client's hand come to rest in the crook of his crotch. If she'd done it on a curve, they likely would have been pretzeled around a tree at that moment, but on the rare straight stretch of that rural blacktop, after several stomach rolling fishtails, Pete was able to steady the wheel. Through all the jerking motions of the car and lawyer's visible incredulousness, Rhonda's hand never budged from its spot in his lap. Pete's face momentarily twisted into a Halloween mask of fear when a pair of bright headlights came rushing around the bend just up ahead. His knuckles white on the wheel as Rhonda playfully continued her fondling advances, Pete held his breath until the other car sped by. The world once again shrouded in darkness as he finally exhaled, Pete checked the rear view and didn't even see the car that had been about 100 yards back for the last few miles. "I could get disbarred for this...I'll definitely have to recuse myself from the case," he searched for any shred of logical defiance in the face of the older woman's brazen flirtation. "Why does it keep getting bigger each time I squeeze it?" Rhonda giggled from the passenger seat as she continued to knead her right hand into the crotch of his pants. That was a point even the finest of litigators would have failed to quash. His brain spinning in the mud trying to think of some way out of this pickle, it was obvious other parts of his anatomy weren't in such a hurry to get her home. "There's a secluded turn-off about a mile up," Rhonda leaned in suggestively, grazing the tips of her nails up and down the bulge tenting the front of Pete's slacks. 'Right or left?" he asked before he could stop himself. "Up on the right..just past a dead tree by the road," Rhonda whispered, tapping the right side of his protruding cock to heighten the point. ________________ Pete's radar was up as he steered the car to the right and into the abandoned driveway. Easing down the steep slope as the gravel crunched beneath his wheels, Pete inched along about 50 yards or so until he was sure they couldn't be seen from the main road. Switching the headlights off and killing the engine, Pete only had a second or two to soak in the solitude surrounding him before the shadow of Rhonda's head drifted between the steering wheel and his chest. Hearing the rip of his zipper an instant before Rhonda's boney fingers slithered inside his fly, Pete dropped his right hand down on top of her head while he eased the driver's seat back with his right. He only felt the cool air inside the cab of the car nip at his cock for a second or two before Rhonda's mouth eagerly clamped down around it. Feeling as if his cock had been sucked into a warm and moist vacuum cleaner hose, Pete rocked his head backwards against the seat until he felt her lips come to rest at the base of his jutting shaft. While he had the pleasure of being deep-throated by a few girls from his past, a lot of time and effort had went into those accomplishments. From what Pete could tell, Rhonda had been successful without so much as a flinch or choke. Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 01 "This is so wrong," he told himself, but given the stuff he'd seen since moving to western Kentucky, the words 'When in Rome...' rattled around Pete's head as he internally justified the last few hours. Rhonda could tell Pete had just fucked another woman before she even wrapped her lips around his shaft. The pungent fragrance of another woman's lust thick in the air as she neared his crotch, the openly bi 34 year old hungrily extended her tongue and lapped up the tangy-tartness. "You just fucked one of those silly girls at your office just before I called, didn't you?" Rhonda grinned slyly, loving the way his thighs quivered in the seat when she briskly rolled her tongue around the pulsing rim of his cockhead. "Looks like I'm not the only one with questionable ethics in this car," she added before deep-throating him a second time. "Yeah..something like that," Pete nodded down to Rhonda, barely able to swallow the cold irony of who he'd actually been with when she called to pick her up. Adrenaline now racing like a torpedo up his spine, Pete rested his head back and slowly began humping his rear end off the seat, fucking the older woman's face as she twirled her tongue around the taunt skin of his rigid staff. Out there in the deserted farm's brush covered driveway, surrounded by a bevy of raccoons, owls and the occasional beaver, the 27 year old defense attorney eventually emptied the steaming and sticky seminal payload down his client's throat. Rhonda Stone had her faults. She was a drug addict and a drunk. She wasn't the best mother in the world for her three kids and had a manipulative streak that could burn hotter than the Sun. She hadn't held a job more than six months in her life and had been in jail more times than a Harvard accountant could count. The one thing not at debate however, given her extensive experience and sexual acumen, was how good she was at giving head. Pete's eyes repeatedly crossed, and his insides turned to jelly as the older woman feverishly snaked her tongue around his jutting girth. Her lips pressed all the way down to the dense wisps of his pubic hair, Pete felt as if his entire groin had been transported to another realm. "Bitch could suck a gumball through a straw," another much less scholarly part of Pete's psyche couldn't help but chime in. His head pounding ferociously as he shot his wad into Rhonda's churning mouth, if he'd been able to peek into the rear view at that moment, Pete would have no doubt been struck by the comical way his entire body lurched up and down in the seat. When Rhonda finally did pull back, Pete's eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to see the greasy and shiny residue of his seed layered across the woman's cheeks and chin. He immediately felt a warm, stabbing tingle drift through his depleted balls when she lapped her tongue with dutiful pleasure across her cumdrenched lips. Taking one long deep breath after another as Rhonda retreated back to the passenger's seat, Pete allowed himself to wallow in the internal cornucopia of lights and sounds from his visceral release. The tapping thud he heard was just the blood pumping through his jugular, he presumed. It was until Rhonda screamed beside him that Pete Finnegan realized they weren't as alone as they'd thought... Part 2 to come Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 02 The shrill report of Rhonda Stone's B-movie screams reverberating painfully in his ears, Pete's heart, the same one that had already been pumping at max volume for the past few minutes, nearly exploded when he looked over and saw a dark figure standing outside the passenger side door. Forgetting his exposed cock was still flopping outside his unzipped fly, Pete raised his right hand to reach for the keys in the ignition to start the car, but froze when he saw the figure reach for the gun on his hip. "..Uh....Uh..I think its Deputy Wurley," Rhonda put her hand to her chest and mumbled once she recognized the uniformed man hovering to her left. Before he could reach over to stop her, Pete cringed when Rhonda opened the door far enough to allow the waiting lawman to poke his head inside the car. "What do we have here?" the 30 year old officer sized up the occupants of the Impala, then cast a hearty spit of his smokeless tobacco to the ground. What he'd exactly 'stumbled upon' didn't take Deputy Wurley long to piece together. Having called Pete Finnegan's tag in right after pulling out from his concealed spot at the speed trap, he knew who was driving the car. The discovery of one of McCracken County's most infamous skanks with him proved to be a revelation, however. Seeing the young lawyer's cum-drenched cock still dangling in plain sight, Wayne Wurley struggled to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the image as he knelt down beside Rhonda. Allowing the awkward weight of silence to press down on the pair, the clearly amused lawman didn't speak again until he saw Pete try to subtlety reach down to stuff his prick back inside his pants. "Keep your hands right where I can see them, Lawyer-Boy," he said with dry and sober clarity. Having seen this movie more times than she cared to count over the years, Rhonda didn't have to tell Pete to listen to the deputy, her eyes did it for her. Knowing how all this was likely to end, Rhonda began preparing herself before the first declaration of defiance left Pete's lips. "What are you charging us with, Officer?" Pete tried to inquire with as much gravitas as a man could with his spent cock visible for the world to see. "First of all I clocked you going over 50 back at the Mill Road intersection..then I got you for evading me for several miles," Wurley looked the young man in the eye and recited. "Evading..you didn't even have your siren..." Pete started before the cop continued on as if Pete's lips were sealed shut. "Now I've got you trespassing on private property and if I really want to get down to brass tacks...indecency in public." Satisfied by the preppy New Englander's stunned and speechless expression, Wurley added one more surgical strike. "Probably wouldn't be good for it to get out either that you were fooling around with one of the clients you all have down at the Public Defender's office!" It started to dawn on Pete this wasn't about him running the speed trap a few miles back. Feeling his cell phone in his left pant's pocket, for a brief moment he thought about trying to make a call, but to who. "Call 9-1-1, Dummy..and who are they gonna send out..the cops?" he quickly chided himself as a cold wave of dread swirled through his intestines. A large portion of Pete's ability as a litigator hinged on his adeptness to reason in difficult circumstances, but taking one good look into Wayne Wurley's eyes, Pete didn't think logic would be a common language the two could share. "So...you gonna write me a ticket ...or take us in?" Pete surprised himself by how forceful his sarcastic question came out. "To be honest..all this piddly stuff aint worth my time," the cop rubbed his hand across his two day growth of beard and bellowed out a deep breath. For just a second Pete knew how a fish felt just before it was about to wiggle its cheek off a fisherman's hook. Unfortunately in this case, the angler was just teasing his fresh catch. "You seem like a pretty straight arrow ..hate to see anything smudge your record running with people like this...I'd be inclined to let you go but its my sworn duty to uphold the laws of this county. Considering this woman's history, I'm gonna have to make sure she's not concealing any contraband," Officer Wurley looked directly at Pete and taunted. "Probably ought to give the car a once over too to make sure she didn't dump anything," he added, clicking open the glove compartment with one hand as he reached a flashlight in with the other. "I just picked her up from the jail," Pete's agitation grew. "I'm just driving her home because she needed a ride." Wurley continued to thumb through the contents of the storage space without so much as acknowledging Pete's explanation. "You wont find anything," he wanted to mumble over to the cop, but decided to save his breath. Well after 10pm now, having worked a full 12 hour day then going through what he had with Jenny back at his office, any mortal man would have been ready to call it a day. Now having gone from having an orgasm in his driver's seat to being a prisoner in his own car in the matter of seconds left Pete feeling as if he'd been pureed in a blender. "Unroll your pockets, Mr. Finnegan," the cop pointed the flashlight directly at him and said when he finished flipping through the glove compartment. Sensing the opportunity to wedge his cock back inside his pants, before he could even try, Officer Wurley stopped him and said, "Your pockets!" Some loose change, his wallet and cell phone came tumbling out, the latter Wurley took and tossed up on the dash, as if to say, 'you won't be needing that for awhile'. "The only thing left to check is you, Ms. Stone," the deputy looked directly into the slightly older woman's face and said, the entire time keeping the flashlight pointed at Pete. "He doesn't have a warrant..he doesn't have any probable cause Rhonda..you don't have to do anything," Pete raised his right hand with real verve, but even the Gettysburg Address would have come across as hallow if Lincoln's fly had been down. "Probable cause..I'm sure you've read Ms. Stone's record, Mr. Finnegan," Wurley chuckled coldly. "Considering you two are parked on some abandoned land where there have been a few meth labs operating that last few years..I'm just doing my due diligence." Slinking back in his seat, Pete grinded his teeth together as Wurley stepped back and motioned Rhonda up and out of the car. Within a few seconds he could look out the windshield and see his client's hands come to rest on the right side of the hood as she positioned herself to be frisked. "Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Finnegan...put them both up on top of the steering wheel. I'd hate to have to handcuff you..this is only going to take a minute," the cop ordered, a toxic grin bursting across his heartlessly engaged face when he saw the way Pete slowly, but inevitably, complied. "Why don't you flip on the interior light while you're at it," he added. Illuminated inside the car, surrounded by nothing by pitch black Kentucky wilderness, Pete felt strangely like a small child who'd been punished by the teacher in front of the entire class as he rested his hands in plain sight on the steering wheel. His cell phone resting two feet away, Pete once again thought about dialing someone for help, but with the cop outside alone with Rhonda, he didn't think it prudent to agitate an already tedious situation. Without so much as a kind word or warning to Rhonda, Pete could hear the rough sounds of Wayne Wurley's frisking gropes echoing through the open passenger door. Looking through the right side of the windshield, he could see the cop's hands pawing at Rhonda's chest before briskly working them down her belly, around her hips and thighs, then back up to her breasts for a second go around. From his vantage point in the seat, Pete couldn't see Rhonda's face unless he leaned forward a foot or so. Her hands outstretched against the hood as she allowed Deputy Wurley to do his job, Pete decided to keep his back flush with the seat, knowing if he saw her expression, it would have only driven home his helplessness that much further. As if patting Rhonda down wasn't enough to determine she wasn't concealing any contraband, the cop took two handfuls of her shirt and pushed it all the way up to her armpits as he bent her over the fender. "She's not even wearing a bra, and he still felt the need to do that," Pete rolled his tongue around his mouth as Rhonda's milky white tits flopped free. Not even allowing the woman the dignity of pulling her shirt back down, Pete watched as Officer Wurley's hands drifted to her waist and closed around the snap of her jeans. And still, Rhonda Stone didn't put up the first hint of a struggle. Within a few dreadful seconds, Rhonda's pants were down around her ankles as well, and even though it wasn't a real shock she wasn't wearing any underwear, Pete still had to turn his head when he was confronted with her sudden and stark exposure. Given the darkness outside and the distracting yellowish haze of the light inside the car, it created a blurry and distorted image of what was going on. When he did tilt his gaze forward, all Pete could really focus on were Rhonda's 10 boney fingers pressed down on the silver paint on the hood of his Impala. Watching the way they flexed and flinched as she supported her weight, he couldn't help seeing the way Rhonda's breasts swung like creamy pendulums below her pulled up tee-shirt each time the cop shifted his probing advances. "This will be over in just a second or two...This will be over in just a second or two," Pete mumbled to himself with the dedication of a Rosary prayer, and sure enough when he saw the lawman stand up out of the corner of his eye, Pete thought the ordeal was, in fact, done. Then he saw something small and curious resting in the officer's right hand. "Don't tell me he gonna plant that.....," Pete started to say when Wurley tossed the miniature zip-lock baggie he was holding down on the hood of the car where the lawyer could easily see it's contents through the windshield. Wounded by the sight of the crystallized pebbles in the baggie, Pete bolted forward so he could see Rhonda's face. Absorbing the expression of exhaustion, guilt and defeat in the woman's dark and listless eyes, Pete's heart sunk all the way down into his already twisted guts when he realized the meth wasn't planted on her. "Guess we're definitely headed downtown now," he spat as he collapsed all the way back in his seat. Wayne Wurley, on the other hand, had a stroke of justice far more serendipitous at his disposal. Expecting to see the cop reach down and take Rhonda's hands to cuff them at any moment before he read her her rights, Pete felt like he took a baton square in the solar plexes when the nearly naked woman crashed down chest first on top of his hood. The entire car swaying beneath him, Pete's eyes mirrored Rhonda's for a fraction of a second through the windshield before the sound of her wailing cry sliced through the crisp night air. Without actually turning and having to stomach the visual confirmation, Pete was sure Deputy Wurley had mounted the hapless woman from behind. It was a good thing most of Rhonda's fingernails had been chewed down to a nub or she would have most certainly scratched the paint job with the way she raked her hands across Pete's hood. "This can't be happening," Pete shook his head and mumbled, molasses now filling his synapses as he leaned forward against the steering wheel. The sound of Rhonda's moans mingled with her body shifting on top of the car filtered into Pete's sensory background as he steadily lost himself in the burning glow that had been sparked in the writhing woman's previously vacant eyes. It was akin to watching a computer that had been sitting dormant suddenly be switched on and begin initializing. Whatever Rhonda's faults and foibles, she was a rather practical and pragmatic woman. Having grown up experiencing the full heaping of depravity her hometown had to offer, Rhonda understood the toll she was paying on the hood of the Impala was far more tidy than being dragged back off to jail. Seeing Rhonda's gaunt face fill with purpose, Pete nearly choked on his own shock when he saw her brace her hands on the hood before rutting backwards against the cop's stabbing assault. It wasn't long before Rhonda was giving just as good as she got. The entire front end of Pete's car was now rocking side to side as the coupling on top of the hood intensified. He could see what was left of the muscles in Rhonda's scrawny arms straining to the max as she hurled her rear end backwards against the cop's plunging girth. His hands still pressed on the steering wheel as the vehicle vibrated beneath him, when curiosity got the best of him and he allowed his gaze to sweep to the right, Pete was struck by the stoic calm Deputy Wurley radiated as Rhonda rammed her ass like a newborn bronco into his groin. "There doesn't seem to be an ounce of concern or strain on his face," Pete made the sickening observation.. Scanning his line of sight back down to Rhonda, the ease in the cop's face was the complete polar opposite to the woman he was fucking. Seeing just enough of Rhonda's eyes through the strands of her dark stringy hair, Pete felt a warm hand take hold of his spine at the sadistic gleam that seemed to sparkle and swirl in the thrashing woman's orbital sockets. Allowing his gaze to wander slightly lower, that invisible hand that had gripped his spine began to squeeze and curl seeing the way Rhonda's exposed breasts shimmied relentlessly in duel, alabaster blurs. Wincing each time Wurley connected with another forward thrust, Pete's own loins guiltily began to stir seeing the increasingly palpable glow of determination in Rhonda's vengeful stare. His lower lip quivering ever so slightly when Rhonda darted her right hand down to her crotch, Pete's own head jerked back in unison with hers when Rhonda pinched several fingers around the bulging firecracker of her clitoris. Focusing in on the mash of activity where Rhonda and Wayne's genitals were crashing together, something odd struck Pete. Granted it was dark outside, and his vision could certainly be distorted given the myriad distractions, but when he got a good look between Rhonda's parted thighs, something was certainly amiss. For a man as definitively Caucasian as Deputy Wayne Wurley, the appendage he was plowing Rhonda with looked as black as his evil heart. Before Pete could slap himself out of his fog to get a better look, Rhonda collapsed all the way forward with a loud, metallic thud with her ass still willingly raised in offering for the man standing tall behind her. The concussion of Rhonda's orgasm ripping through the late night desolation caused Pete to cower in his seat. Staring out the window, his vision tunneled much the same way a child's would looking through a keyhole as the older woman writhed, bucked and screamed on top of the car. "FUCK ME.. GODDAMMITT.... FUCK ME.... IS THAT ALL YOU GOT YOU MOTHERFUCKIN BASTARD," he heard Rhonda spit back to the eerily emotionless man taking his pound of flesh behind her. Like a runaway train, Rhonda showed no sign of slowing down. Hurling her pelvis backwards with reckless abandon, her first release bled quickly into a second and possibly a third as several beads of sweat glistened on Pete's brow. When Rhonda's body finally gave out and she careened forward, her body draping like a mangled white sheet across the hood of his car, Pete nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw what Deputy Wurley had actually been fucking her with. "No wonder he didn't so much as flinch through the whole damn thing," Pete groaned as he sunk even lower in his seat. For the past five minutes, Wurley had been impaling Rhonda with the blunt and unforgiving end of his standard issue nightstick instead of his cock. A toxic mix of awe and disgust washed through Pete as he absorbed the sickening reality of it all. He was barely able to watch as the cop dropped the tip of the club between Rhonda's shoulder blades and painted a line of the woman's splattered vaginal lust down her spinal column. As if that wasn't enough, he then raised the thing up to her lips and forced the gasping and still spasming woman to orally cleanse the shaft before he casually lowered it back into his holster. "Now get up and get your clothes..take a seat back in the car while I decide what I'm gonna do here," Pete heard Wurley tell Rhonda over the pounding rush of blood inside his own head. Feeling real empathy for the poor woman as she staggered around to pick up her pants, Pete also couldn't help but see the way she also grabbed the baggie of meth the cop had tossed aside. Watching Rhonda ease back towards the passenger side door on her two wobbly legs, Pete could barely bring himself to look at her as she sat down without a word beside him. Instantly inhaling the unmistakable scent of Rhonda's freshly squeezed arousal filling the cab of the car, as much as he hated to admit it, Pete could also smell his own fear as Officer Wurley's shadow once again darkened the door to his right. "Can't let you both go just yet," the deputy leaned down and said with soft and self assured amusement. A tone that was heightened when he saw the rubbery shaft of Pete's penis still dangling from his unzipped fly. "So what are you gonna do now..fuck me up the ass with that thing," Pete snidely sniped before he could stop himself. "Nah...not my type," Wurley snapped dismissively. "It does look like you got a little stiff watching everything though," he added as he mockingly motioned down to the half inflated log of Pete's exposed prick. What little sarcasm and fight he had left quickly drained from the young lawyer's cheeks. Looking over to the cop in one last ditch effort to reason with Wurley before things went any further, Pete stomach rolled seeing the tented bulge arching out the front of the officer's crisply pressed brown pants. Wurley gave Pete another demeaning little wink before turning his attention back to Rhonda. Sitting in a near catatonic state in the passenger seat, her eyes trained vacantly forward, she held her pants in a twisted knot on top of her naked crotch as the cop's warm, animalistic breath cascaded against her cheek. Pete turned away just as the sound of the cop pulling his zipper down carried through the silence. Without even looking he could hear the sound of Rhonda's neck rotate, the shifting of Wurley's fly, the slap of aroused flesh smacking her cheek, then the sigh of accomplishment from the deputy's lips when the woman took his cock into her mouth. Once again, Pete could feel the car beneath him begin to rock when Wurley began shoving forward. Hearing the muffled snorts seeping from Rhonda's nostrils each time she attempted to breath, Pete could feel the thudding beat of his heart pressing inside his chest. "If you're gonna do something...this would be the perfect time..you're never gonna find a guy more incapacitated than he is now," Pete thought, but as soon as he looked over to gauge his opening, he was met by Wurley's knowing sneer. Forced now to see the way Rhonda's face looked plastered on top of the cop's unzipped pants, before he even realized it, Pete's own cock was inflating against the bottom of the steering wheel. "When you make it home tonight, I want you to kiss that douche-bag boyfriend of your's right on the lips," Wurley growled down to Rhonda, leaving Pete with the distinct feeling there was a lot more to this snapshot of indignity than he knew. Pete could see Rhonda tense and wretch with disgust but she continued on with her bitter chore, having no choice but to comply because of the drugs the cop had found hidden on her. Given her obvious distaste for Deputy Wurley, Pete was stunned seeing the rabid way Rhonda's throat muscles churned around the slab of flesh flaring in her mouth. He could tell the officer was supremely enjoying the moment, but Pete was left wondering how much of it was Rhonda's definite oral skills, and how much of it was the selfish and vengeful power he felt debasing the woman like he was out there in the middle of nowhere. Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 02 Making a mental note to go through the legal archives back at the office if he somehow survived this encounter, just to learn some of the background of the people he was now intertwined with, Pete watched Rhonda intensify her efforts to get Wurley off until the interior of the car was filled with her slurps and snorts. "You dick's getting hard again, Lawyer-boy," he made sure to remind Pete as he clutched his rough hands tight around the top of Rhonda's head. "You're watching a master at work, Finnegan...for a bunch of years everyone in McCracken County has known who gives the best head...from the looks of things you got to find that out for yourself just before I pulled up," the deputy said with the dryness of a man reading the weather forecast. "Word has it the talent didn't fall far from the tree either," he added a few seconds later with far more biting intent. "Isn't that right Ms. Stone..that little daughter of yours ..Jenny. Hard following in a parent's footsteps but from what I've heard she's taken like a duck to water," Wurley massaged his fingers into Rhonda's scalp as he taunted her about her oldest girl. Pete knew most women would have probably bit the penis clear off of a man talking to her in such a way, but knowing the lay of the land as well as Rhonda did, she simply continued doing what she had to do. God knows, she'd been treated worse by people far better than Wayne Wurley over the years. Mesmerized as he followed the cop's right hand, Pete watched Wayne close his fingers around Rhonda's left breast, tweaking and twisting the fleshy orb through her shirt until her nipple had grown to the size of a grape between his fingertips. The deputy's hips beginning to rock faster and faster as he rammed his cock against the back of Rhonda's throat, the soft scent of sex that had already permeated Pete's car became much more intense. Looking down between Rhonda's naked thighs, he could see the vivid and growing traces of her guilty arousal coating the upholstery below. Feeling the energy radiate from the unholy coupling beside him, Pete trembled each time Rhonda shifted in her seat. Sensing the deputy's release was imminent, Pete sat in breathless silence as Wurley turned his gaze back to him. "Ms. Stone...you've got a free hand..why don't you reach over and show your lawyer a little love for being so patient through all this," Wayne mocked. " I don't think Leroy's gonna mind..and if he does..he aint gonna hear it from me." The 'Leroy' in question, Pete would soon learn, would be Leroy Cardwell, Rhonda's on-again and off-again boyfriend, and long time antagonist to law enforcement in the area. Before he could even brace himself, Pete saw Rhonda reach back with her left hand without so much as turning her head. Almost as if she had a sexual homing device embedded inside her, Rhonda wrapped her fingers around Pete's shamefully erect shaft and began pumping it up and down as she continued to gobble her mouth over the cop's bulging cock. Admiring Rhonda's carnal depravity, not to dexterity, Wayne cinched his fingers into the top of the woman's head and brutally began skullfucking her until his searing seminal seed was streaming down Rhonda's gullet. Wayne's brutal release set off a spastic domino effect. The instant his cock burst like a firehose in Rhonda's mouth, every fiber inside her tensed and fired, including the hand she had wrapped around Pete's prick. Squeezing hard at the throbbing rod as she struggled to swallow the deputy's thick and frothy load, Rhonda pushed the balled up jeans between her knees to the floorboard with her free hand then shoved the talons of her fingers between her legs to quell her own burning fissure. Within a few seconds, Rhonda Stone was cumming in the passenger seat between the two men. "HOLY FUCK," Pete screamed incredulously, feeling Rhonda's jerking grip intensify until he was shooting what semen he had left inside him, first across the lower part of the steering wheel, then in several dripping splotches across the crumpled front of his trousers. ___________________ If the rapport had been strained between Rhonda and Pete between the time he picked her up at the jail and pulled off on that side road, the chilling silence that existed between them as Pete pulled out of that abandoned driveway to finish driving her home was positively infinite. Both of them watching in the mirror as Deputy Wurley's police cruiser turned and headed back towards town, Rhonda and Pete sat stone-faced as he drove the final few miles to his client's trailer. Considering the depravity that he'd just been party to, Pete felt absolutely no relief when he finally turned into Rhonda's driveway and waited for her to get out of the car. Before she could even reach for the door handle however, the front door to the trailer opened and two shadowy figures approached in the darkness. It didn't take long for Pete to recognize the smaller of the two, having just had relations with her an hour and a half earlier back in his office. "Jenny fucking Stone," he growled under his breath, suddenly feeling as if there was something more than coincidence at work. "Feels like five years have passed since she walked out of my office," Pete thought to himself, taking into account everything that had happened since he'd answered her mother's phone call. The much taller man beside Jenny had to be Rhonda's boyfriend, Leroy Cardwell. Figuring it was best that he at least face the man before driving off and crawling into a hole for the rest of the night, it didn't take long for Pete to notice the cocksure look on the man's grizzled and unshaven face. Once again, Pete felt like he was an unwitting pawn in a much bigger game. "Everything go smoothly, Baby?" he heard Leroy mouth over to Rhonda as she pulled herself from the car. Pete immediately noticed the gleam of confidence fade from Leroy's eyes when Rhonda caustically replied, "Not exactly." "Cop got behind us just before we turned into the old Willoughby property," Rhonda told her boyfriend before trying to shuffle past him and get inside. "Who was it?" Leroy groaned, grabbing her by the left arm before she could sweep past. Pressing her several times, Rhonda finally said "Wurley". Standing off to the side, doing his best impression of a knot on a log, Pete visibly flinched when Leroy cussed a blue streak then crushed the half empty can of beer in his hand. Pete instinctively took a step back and ducked when Leroy tossed the mangled handful of dripping aluminum a good forty yards into the woods behind him. When he raised his head, Rhonda was bounding up the steps just before disappearing inside the rickety front door of the trailer. "Anybody want to tell me what just happened?" Pete took a brave step forward and asked, looking back and forth between Jenny and Leroy several times before the 40 year old man finally spoke up. "You fooled around with Jenny back in your office earlier tonight..that's what happened," Leroy looked over to the lawyer and said with agitated matter-of-factness. "Don't look at her...look at me," the older man crisply added when he saw Pete try to steal a peek over to the girl standing between them. "She was the one that came on to me," Pete wanted to bark, but sensed nothing would sound quite right coming out of his mouth at that moment. "It definitely wouldn't look good for a man like yourself to be fucking around with the daughter of a client right in his own office, Mr. Finnegan," Leroy made his threat clear. Pete suddenly understood Jenny's visit was more than just a young girl's nymph-like whim. Pulling out his cell phone just to highlight his point, Leroy walked towards Pete and showed him several of the hazy stills he'd made from the street below as two gallivanted in front of the opened blinds. "Bitch left me with blueballs..that's what happened," Pete once again wanted to snipe, but it made more sense to just stand there and see where all this was headed. "I really think I had a good chance of getting Rhonda out of these charges," Pete offered with a clear sense of confusion. "Now you've gone and done this..you know there's no way I can stay on this case now. What the fuck gives?" "Go inside Jenny...check on your Ma'," Leroy nodded to the 18 year old, but she didn't budge. "Jenny.." he started again until she interrupted. "He deserves to know the truth..this was a fucked up idea to start with," Jenny shook her head as she pounded her shoe repeatedly in the dirt. ".....Well....?" Pete put his hands out as if seeking some clarity. "Leroy here don't have too high opinion of you public defenders..he's been through the system a few times..and he's heard the stories my momma has told him..he seemed to think if you had a little extra motivation you might go the extra mile trying to get her off," Jenny laid it out quite eloquently. "Motivation..like facing a disbarment hearing if I lost?" Pete tried to decipher the older man's reasoning. "I told you back at the office that I thought we had a real chance to get a lot of that evidence thrown out and that I fully intended on winning this case," Pete said in full throat. "And you better still do," Leroy interjected. While the logic of the plan Leroy was laying out didn't exactly add up to genius, Pete at least could make out the general gist of what he was aiming for. "Was what happened with Rhonda part of the plan too....getting me to pull over on that vacant road after you and her supposedly got into a fight at the jail?" Pete asked, starting to feel his oats once again. Leroy nodded as they both watched Jenny finally turn to head towards the trailer to check on her mom. "But not what happened between us and the deputy?" Pete waited until Jenny was out of earshot to ask. To this, Leroy shook his head 'no' and angrily rubbed his fingers through his thinning hair. "What exactly happened out there?" he looked Pete dead in the eye and asked. Pete lowered his head and turned back towards the road. "Tell me, Godamnitt!!" Leroy gritted his teeth and growled, his face turning a shade of red visible even in the darkness of the driveway. For the next few minutes, the tenor of the conversation changed. Pete somehow managed to relay what had happened between Rhonda and Wayne. Upon hearing some of Pete's selectively gorry details (he didn't dare tell the whole sad and sordid story), Leroy then gave Pete the cliffnote version of the Cardwell family's long history with some of the powerbrokers in McCracken County, including the Wurley clan. By the time Pete finally folded himself back into his Impala and steered the car home, an understanding had been reached. He could barely bring himself to look at the turnoff he and Rhonda had taken when he passed it heading back to town. Deep down, something told Pete it wouldn't be the last time he'd visit that infamous little spot..... Part 3 to come Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 03 Pete Finnegan wasn't the only reluctant person employed at the McCracken County courts building. Twenty-nine year old Gwendolyn Garst had grown up in the area but thought she'd escaped for good when she went off to Lexington to attend the University of Kentucky a decade earlier. Gwen had thought long and hard about applying to law school, but her finances and grades were both obstacles. She'd eventually earned her paralegal degree and worked for several attorneys across eastern Kentucky. She was also thinking about trying to get her real estate license until the economy hit the skids back in '08. She would have likely been content climbing the ladder the best she could in the state capital until her mother took ill with cancer around Christmas of '09. Instead of having to make that dreaded cross-state drive several times a week, and without any real roots holding her down, Gwen decided to move back to Paducah to help her mom through such a difficult time. Gwen's father had pretty much been out of the picture since she was eight. Having moved to Texas with the woman he'd left her mother for, Gwen had only seen him twice over the past 20 years. Luckily, her maternal grandparents had filled the void, but even that blessing took a substantial hit when she was 12 and her grandfather Ernie went to jail on money laundering charges, then died of a heart attack soon after. Seeing how her mom had been there for her grandma through that entire tragic ordeal, there was no way in the world Gwen wasn't going to be there for her own mother as she struggled to beat her disease. Thankfully, through the chemo and various other treatments, the cancer was in re-mission, but given the twists and turns her life had taken, Gwen lived in constant fear that it, or some other horrible malady, could arise at any moment. She'd taken a job as a paralegal with a lawyer in Paducah. Considering Gwen's resume, she was probably overqualified to work for a guy like Melvin Mack, but he was more than happy to take her on with the dearth of hirable candidates in the area. Mack was a graying and good natured man in his late 50's who went about his job with somewhat of a "Matlock' shtick. Unfortunately, as with most of the defense lawyers (paid or appointed) who've applied their trade in the McCracken County court system over the previous three decades, his record of success going against the prosecutorial machine led by Cyrus Ridgeway was pretty low. Gwen's social prospects were equally as dismal. Her tastes and expectations in men had evolved quite a bit since she moved to Lexington years ago, so when she moved back home, there just weren't a lot of guys that tickled her fancy. The handful of men that did seem like a good catch in her age bracket were either married, too uncouth, or came across as utter cads. Being an attractive single woman wasn't the easiest thing for someone like Gwen working in an environment filled with so much testosterone and ego. A cliché snapshot of what she dealt with on a regular basis could be taken one late Autumn afternoon when she stopped by the courthouse to file a handful of motions before the end of business that day. It started when an outright proposition from one of the lawyers her employer had a case against, then she was approached and aggressively chatted up by one of the brazen young security guards roaming the halls. That was followed by being ogled by several of the inmates who'd been led over to the courthouse that day from the jail for various hearings (a direct result of not being receptive to the come-ons of said security guard). The final, and ultimate, indignity however came when she passed the county's lead prosecutor, Cyrus Ridgeway, in the hall. Even though he didn't say a word to her, Gwen felt her skin burn as he openly sized her up. There was a history between the two, one that Gwen had suffered nearly every day of her life since the age of 12. One that Ridgeway had long forgotten. He simply saw the pretty blonde in the tailored business suit, with the determined and focused walk, as visual candy (and perhaps a potential conquest) for his Viagra fueled, 61 year old, libido. Given all that, the last thing Gwen would have likely been open to was a relative stranger that she'd only seen in passing coming up to her out of the blue and asking for a date. Always one for impeccable timing, that's exactly what a young lawyer from the public defender's office did as Gwendolyn Garst was trying to make her way out of the courthouse that late afternoon. Gwen's first inclination was to bite Pete Finnegan's head off. His shy, and certainly out of place, New England accent rattling around her head, she was able to settle herself down enough to carry on a somewhat cordial conversation. In the end, Pete actually had a couple of things going for him. Number one, he was intelligent and well spoken enough to keep a back and forth flowing about a myriad of different subjects without sounding as condescending as many of the lawyers she dealt with did. He also talked to her like as an equal, which was something Gwen rarely encountered at work. The fact that Pete was also attractive, had all his teeth and had some experience in the world outside of McCracken County played into his favor as well since Gwen rarely encountered all that in her local dating pool. She gave him her number and they went out to dinner the following Saturday night. Even though Pete had taken notice of Gwendolyn on more than one occasion while strolling the halls of the courts building, if it wasn't for Leroy Cardwell planting a seed during their late night chat in the older man's driveway a few weeks earlier, Pete would have probably never taken the ultimate initiative to ask her out. Like a hound dog being given a scent to follow however, while Leroy didn't provide Pete with all the background, he told the young man enough to make him realize that having someone like Gwen Garst in his life could prove invaluable given the circumstances. __________________ It was more than a full month since Pete and Gwen's first date when the two found themselves cruising through some of McCracken County's back roads on a late December Friday night. Apart from the early Winter chill, the two enjoyed the peace and quiet of the occasional drive out to the country as they shared stories from their diverse backgrounds. Keeping a watchful eye out for the sheriff department's special speed traps each time he ventured out of the city limits, Pete's mind was still fresh with what happened between Rhonda and Deputy Wurley weeks earlier. The couple had consummated their relationship after their third date, and were still quite enamored with each other to say the least. Matching healthy, young and underserved libidos aside, Pete and Gwen had also found a great deal in common outside the bedroom as well. Driving down the same road he'd been with Rhonda that fateful night weeks ago, this time with Gwen sitting by his side, Pete approached the same Mill Road intersection the speed trap had been set up before. He'd been by that turnoff several times since that night and no one had been there. This time however, he caught the faint reflection of a parked police cruiser tucked behind a thicket. Making sure he was going far enough over the speed limit to garner some attention, Pete looked in his rearview and felt his stomach roll when the shadowy outline of the police car pulled out from its hiding place. His knuckles tightening on the steering wheel when he noticed the cop hadn't switched on his headlights yet as he followed in stealthy pursuit, Pete meandered along for 30 seconds or so before gunning the gas. When he saw the darkness behind him fill with vivid and spinning blue light, Pete pressed the accelerator to the floor. The chase was on. Alternating his gaze between the windshield in front of him, the rear view mirror, and Gwen beside him, Pete had driven that stretch of road enough times now to navigate the frequent and winding curves. It took coming to a straightaway for him to get a relative idea how quickly the deputy, with a V-8 in his cruiser, was closing in. Keeping a mental note of the landmarks that whizzed by, Pete's best guess was he had about a half mile left until he reached his desired destination. Good thing, considering when he looked up the following time, the police car was within a hundred yards. Sensing the anxiety welling from Gwen's pores as the shrill vibration of the siren screeched in her ears, there was quite a pull for Pete to reach over and pat her reassuringly. Sadly, he didn't dare take both hands off the wheel as he approached the same turn-off to the old Willoughby property he had sworn he'd never set foot on again. Just before slowing to make the left turn and give himself up however, Pete did sneak his hand down to the cell phone tucked in his pants pocket just to make sure it was still there. The silence in the car was palpable until the gravel began to crunch under Pete's tires once he made the left into that Godforsaken driveway. Pulling in, and unsettling wave of nausea ripped through Pete's gut as he laid eyes on the same spot all the shit had hit the fan between him, Rhonda and the cop weeks earlier. His spine tingling with angst as the police car pulled in behind him, Pete could barely breath as the cab of his Impala filled with the dizzying tornado of flashing blue light. "Best you're gonna get out of here with is a speeding ticket.......worst case...," Pete told himself, still harboring serious qualms whether this scheme of theirs was going to work. Like a monster from a nightmare literally walking out of the blinding light and directly into his waking conscience, Pete watched as Deputy Wayne Wurley exited his police cruiser and cast a foreboding shadow all the way up to Pete's driver's side door. Having already put the car in park, Pete partially rolled down the window before switching the ignition off. Stealing one last look over to Gwen, Pete was buoyed in his moment of weakness by the steely and grim determination in the young woman's icy blue stare. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again 'round these parts, Finnegan," the familiar, and bile inducing, strains of the deputy's voice filled the calm and quiet surrounding them. Keeping his gaze trained forward, not wanting to so much as make eye contact with the lawman now towering above him, Pete rolled his tongue around the backside of his teeth before sighing, "Guess you got me again". Wurley's attention to Pete's moving violations quickly faded when he shined the beam of his flashlight inside the cab of the car. "Big improvement over the last time you were out here," Wurley nearly chuckled as he sized up the pretty blonde sitting beside him. "I know you," he continued as if Pete wasn't even there. "You're Delbert Grady's granddaughter." "Yes..yes I am," Gwen replied without a wisp of emotion, offering to hand the deputy her identification before he dismissively waved her off. "Whatcha doin' out this way...I know where you live and its back in town. You know nothin' good every happens after dark out here," Wurley jabbed with a cruel, inside joke tone. "Yeah..I've heard," Pete nodded, the chill of the air filtering through the window not even registering as his blood began to boil. "And with this pretty lady there beside you..you have to know how things can spin out of control, Finnegan," the deputy continued to chastise. "I've seen you around the courthouse a few times," Wurley quickly turned his attention back to Gwen. "You're working for that old fart, Mack, aren't you," she heard Wurley say, sensing he knew far more about her than he was letting on. "Yes," she replied, without even turning to look at him. Pete thought about asking if the deputy was going to write him a ticket, but remembering the snide answer he got last time, not to mention the fact that Wurley's focus was seared on Gwen, he decided to keep his mouth shut. "You've been around these parts your whole life...you ought to tell Mr. Finnegan what can happen out here in the middle of nowhere at night," the cop grinned through the driver's side window into Gwen's reproachful eyes. "We'll be OK," she offered dryly. "I'm sure you will," Wurley patted his hands down on the door before pushing himself away, making the young couple think for just a brief instant he was going to leave them be. Just as he disappeared out of Pete's peripheral vision however, he along with Gwen both jumped in their seats when the driver's side brake light met its demise at the blunt hand of the same nightstick Wurley had used to violate Rhonda Stone. Before either could tap their chest to settle their suddenly pounding hearts, Wurley smashed the one on the other side. The stakes obviously raised now, Pete cussed himself for ever agreeing to this hare-brained scheme. Reaching instinctively over to try and calm Gwen, Pete was startled seeing her aura of resoluteness. Instead of immediately retracing his steps back to Pete's side of the car, Wurley walked over to the passenger side, slowing noticeably to glare in at Gwen for a few seconds before striding around the front end and completing the full circuit right back beside Pete. "You've got a couple of brake lights out," he leaned in and said with an insipid whisper. "Get out," Pete then heard the deputy command. Opening the door, doing his best to appear in total control as he stepped from his vehicle, Pete made his way over to the hood. Having taken enough classes school to know the proper etiquette in this type of scenario, deep down Pete sensed none of it mattered. There was going to be nothing 'by the book' about the next few minutes. Flinching when the cop casually pushed his hand down inside his left pants pocket, Pete watched as Wurley removed his cell phone. "Always knew you wanted to get inside my pants," the young lawyer mouthed before he could stop himself. He was immediately met with a subtle, but highly effective punch to the kidney for his sarcasm. Holding himself up on the fender to keep from doubling over, Pete bowed his neck and kicked at the dirt below until he was finally able to suck in a full breath. He was strangely insulted the cop didn't seem to deem it necessary to search the rest of his person for any sort of weapon, but this time Pete kept his thoughts to himself. "Didn't think you'd have the balls to venture out this way again. Pretty pathetic the way that whole thing went with that Stone woman. Now you go and bring a girl like that out here?" Wurley put his lips up to Pete's ear and hissed. "Wanna see the same thing happen to her?" "When did this become personal? I'd never even met you before that night," Pete turned and asked. Even in the dark, Pete could see the look of rancid discontent boiling in the officer's eyes. "You college fuck-ups come down here trying to build your resume...you don't have any idea how things work. You got all this liberal views about helping these pieces of shit that have been dragging this county down for generations," Wurley spat. "Damn good thing we have a man like Cyrus Ridgeway in the prosecutor's chair!" "It has something to do with the Constitution," Pete shook his head incredulously, having to remind himself logic was probably also the wrong tact to take in this situation. "Besides," he added, "One of these days I might be hired to defend you." While this second dose of pointed sarcasm didn't result in a physical assault, Pete did see Wayne Wurley sort of file the comment away into that special vault inside his brain. Sadly, the pursuit of justice and cleansing McCracken County of all it's societal ills wasn't exactly the deputy's life mission. Considering he was the one anointed with the badge, it made his sins that much worse. In his ultra clear and focused mind however, intimidation was the only way of dealing with the enemy, and Pete was finding that out the hard way. As if patiently biding his time, a huge hawkish smile spread across Wayne's face when he saw Gwen get out of the car and start towards him. "Whoa..just calm down..I'm just askin' your boyfriend a couple of questions. Just go and get back in the car...you two will be out of here before you know it," the deputy scolded, but before the words were even out of his mouth, another more devious thought struck him. "No," he corrected himself. "Last girl Finnegan had out here had meth on her. If I didn't know any better, the little lawyer boy here might be making some extra money on the side peddlin' the shit. You better come over here and let me make sure you ain't concealing nothin'." A pained silence engulfed the three as Deputy Wurley's words hung like spoiled meat in the air. Nearly choking on his heart as it lurched upwards into his throat, Pete watched Wayne's eyes swirl with vengeful intent. "Sorry I gotta do this, Ma'am, but turn around and put your hands on the car," Wurley motioned to Gwen. Seeing the cop reach for his hand-cuffs, Pete had enough and vehemently voiced his objections. "You don't have to do that to her...," he started before the deputy interrupted. "They aren't for her..they're for you," Wurley's voice drilled first into Pete's ears, then like a razor down his spine. More than any other moment in his life, Pete felt an overwhelming urge to ball up his fist and let out all that fear, anger and frustration right on the cop's chin when Wurley started towards him. For a multitude of reasons, thankfully the last shreds of Pete's rational thought kept his primal urges at bay. Tensing when Wurley clamped the first bracelet around his left wrist, Pete prepared for the officer to reach for his right, but before he even realized what had happened, the deputy had reached inside the rolled down window, and with one well practiced swipe, secured the opposite end of the handcuffs around the Impala's steering wheel. Pete's eyes became the size of two glassy golf balls when he caught Wurley's gaze drifting to the keys hanging in the currently lifeless ignition. The stark reality hit Pete that with one simple turn of a key, and a shift of the transmission into gear on that steep grade, that something very bad could happen. The blood was rushing so violently in his head, Pete couldn't make out the content of Gwen's protests even though the vibration of her voice was causing his teeth to rattle. Instinctively pulling his arm to try and turn as Wurley slowly started walking away, Pete was instantly jerked backwards the way a dog would forgetting his was on a leash. "Don't fight this Finnegan..you don't need to see this. It'll all be over with before you know it," the deputy said in a hushed, almost fatherly tone before easing over to Gwen, leaving Pete with his back turned towards them both. Desperately wanting to channel every bit of energy inside his body into a blood curdling scream to perhaps bring help, Pete reminded himself there was no one around for miles out on that desolate stretch of highway. Instead he was forced to stand there in detained silence, having to hear every subtle and horrible sound coming from behind him. As much as he hated to admit it, Pete knew having his back turned to what was happening on the hood of his car was probably for the best. His intestines seizing each time Gwen groaned the words 'no' or 'stop', Pete fought the vivid pictures in his head of the deputy's hands roaming with impunity over every inch of her body. Pete could even feel the car rock each time Gwen's hands pressed down on the fender as the man behind her continued his thorough 'search'. A sour grimace spreading across Pete's face, he couldn't help but jerk at the cuff locked around the steering wheel when an especially shrill shriek bleed from Gwen's throat. Casting his gaze wearily towards the woodline, Pete tried grasping his free hand out behind him, but Wurley had positioned himself with seeming strategic precision just out of the lawyer's reach. Kentucky Fried Yankee Lawyer Ch. 03 The next 10 minutes became such a dizzying and jumbled mental overload that Pete would spend quite a few years afterwards trying to unravel. The horrible, metallic taste of his own blood washing across his palate as he bit the inside of his lip in helpless angst, even without looking Pete knew the 'exploratory pat down' the officer had initiated with Gwen was quickly devolving into the same ruthless act that happened with Rhonda Stone weeks earlier. While the interlude with Rhonda seemed to be more like Wayne Wurley's way of showing the new guy in town who was boss, it seemed the joy he was taking doing what he was with Gwen was far more personal in nature. Hearing the sound of the deputy's zipper ripping down, Pete balled up his right fist and beat it into his thigh when he was forced to hear Gwen's vocal wails of defiance. The cold, crisp air adding to the storm raging inside Pete each time it met the burning kiln of his lungs, he had no way of stopping the sound of the harsh and horrible things the cop was saying down to Gwen, or the fierce but ultimately fruitless things Gwen was screaming in return. It didn't take a lot of imagination on Pete's part either when Wurley penetrated Gwen. The groans of the woman's sickening shock filling the abandoned Willoughby property, it was soon followed by the rutting rhythm of the officer's fully dressed body plowing forward into Gwen's exposed behind. Casting a weary peek back out into the woodline, Pete was forced to listen to Wurley's erection sawing in and out of Gwen's cunt as he leaned in close and whispered despicable nothings into the her ear. Pete cringed contemplating just how many women this monster may have done something similar to. If there was ever a moment when an animal was at its most vulnerable however, this was it. From the urgency Wurley was showing, it was clear he wanted to finish as quickly as possible in case his dispatcher buzzed him. What was also clear was how he wanted to take as much pleasure as he could from this apparently long awaited conquest. The ferocity of his grunts signaling his impending release, Pete figured within the next minute, Gwen's pussy would be flooded with the man's seething cum. She'd shown so much courage in agreeing to help and now Pete was left to think how Gwen would re-coil each time she saw one of the police cars, not to mention anyone in that uniform as she went about her job downtown where the place was constantly crawling with cops. Pete wondered the same thing about his future in that town now, then his world suddenly stopped. Handcuffed to his own steering wheel, the young lawyer was witness to one of the most insane turn of events anyone could fathom. The only thing Pete could liken it to was a memory he had of being a young boy visiting a relative. A neighbor's dog had gotten loose and had followed the scent straight to Pete's uncle's house where it then had conveniently mounted one of his uncle's dogs that happened to be in heat. Pete remembered how his uncle had thrown a bucket of water on the otherwise occupied mutt, and how the thing had wailed as if it had been mortally wounded before it jerked away and re-treated from its primal calling. What Pete was seeing now amounted to a human version of that, multiplied by a thousand. Even for someone as tuned into his surroundings as Deputy Wayne Wurley, to have so much of his attention focused on what he was doing to Gwen, and the little bit that was left over geared towards keeping an eye on Pete to his right, the cop had no clue something very bad was about to happen on his left flank until it was way too late. Like a petrified bystander watching a speeding train barreling on the same track towards one that was already stopped in the station, Pete's eyes widened as the blur of Leroy Cardwell appeared from nowhere just before he planted the business end of a stun-gun against the deputy's neck. The pitch-black air filled with an incredible howl just before Wurley collapsed like a fallen tree right at Pete's feet. Immediately regretting that he didn't take the opportunity to kick the twitching cop right in the gut, Pete instead jerked backwards when Leroy threw himself down on top of the still paralyzed man on the ground. Looking up to make sure Gwen was OK, Pete couldn't help but wonder if she received any of the jolt from Wurley's penis as the sudden and debilitating rush of electricity coursed through every fiber of his being. Seeing the look of hardened but healthy defiance still fresh on her admittedly tear soaked face, Pete watched Gwen pull her pants back up. Leaning hard against the door of his car once Leroy swooped down on top of the defenseless deputy, Pete honestly thought he was going to kill Wurley. Watching Leroy confiscate not only the officer's gun and taser, Pete noticed him take Wurley's nightstick as well, the symbolism clear considering what the cop had done to Rhonda with it. Pete let out a sigh of relief as well when he saw Leroy remove the keys to the handcuffs from one of Wurley's pockets, an item he gladly grabbed in his shaking right hand when Leroy blindly tossed them up to him. It was only then after he'd freed himself from the anchor of the steering wheel that Pete was able to turn and see the shadowy frames of two women easing out of the woods. Rhonda Stone and her daughter Jenny approached with a mixture of eagerness and caution, the bluish white light of the hand held camera in the older woman's hand providing a beacon as they eased up the clearing towards the spot where everything had gone down. Concentrating his attention of Gwen once he'd removed the cuffs, despite the veneer of strength she'd shown, as soon as he put his arms around her, she melted in his embrace. Allowing everything she'd bottled up during the evening to explode in a fit of sobbing rage, Gwen buried her face in Pete's chest for nearly a minute until she found her voice. "Get me out of here," she looked up and told him. Helping her over to the passenger side, Pete eased Gwen into the seat before climbing in on his side. "Jenny..you go back with them," Leroy's voice rose from the darkness. "But....," the younger girl began to protest before Leroy made it clear he didn't want anyone else around other than Rhonda. Waiting for Jenny to let herself into the backseat, Pete then turned over the engine and put the car in reverse, swerving around the Wurley's parked cruiser before backing out onto the main road. "Did she get everything on camera?" Pete heard Gwen ask, the grit he'd grown to love gradually seeping back into her cadence. "Yeah..I think so," Jenny looked forward and nodded. "Good!! Now let's get back to their trailer so I can take a shower and wash this stink off me," she sighed as the tires met the pavement and Pete began to steer forward. _________________ While the three headed back to the trailer, Rhonda and Leroy stayed behind to make their little pitch to the incapacitated deputy. The entire drive back to the Cardwell residence, Pete continued to be flabbergasted at how smoothly Leroy's plan had worked. Having no clue what sort of blackmail proposition he was going to use on Wurley with the video of Wurley's attempted rape of Gwen, Pete also wasn't exactly privy yet to the deep-seated anger burning inside Gwen that would have allowed her to be used as 'bait' in the trap. Squirming in his seat when he caught a glimpse of Jenny staring up at him in the rear view, Pete felt a gnawing itch that couldn't quite be scratched as the 18 year old in the backseat kept her knowing eyes glued on him. __________________ Jenny's warning about the hot water in the trailer had been spot on. While there was enough sizzle to make his, and Gwen's, shower tolerable, there was a perpetual feeling that it would run out at any moment. Considering all they'd been through, Pete's main focus was getting Gwen lathered up and rinsed off before Rhonda and Leroy returned so they could huddle up on the next part of the plan. He was just in the middle of doing that, his hands massaging the shampoo into Gwen's blonde hair from behind as she used a bar of soap to take care of her front, when the whole tenor of the moment changed on a dime. Nothing was really spoken between the two as the fallout of the evening continued to steadily wash down the drain. Assuming, for good reason, Gwen would take awhile to come out of the shell she'd put herself in to handle the horrible chore she'd just pulled off, Pete had no reason to believe what his girlfriend did was anything but an accident the first time she ground her soaking wet rear end backwards against his crotch. "What are you doing?" he did lean in and whisper the second time her shaved and soapy vulva pressed into the flesh of his upper thigh, hoping his voice was quiet enough under the hiss of the shower that Jenny wouldn't hear from wherever she was outside. "I'm not going home with the last thing inside me being that asshole's cock," Gwen spat to Pete without turning around, the implication clear in her tone. Feeling her mash her molten slit repeatedly against his now stirring penis, Pete pushed Gwen's head towards the cascade of water and rinsed the shampoo from her hair as she reached between her legs and began fondling his balls. He thought for a moment of warning Gwen about Jenny's presence outside, but given the sole and ruthless purpose she'd shown less than an hour earlier, Pete realized nothing was going to stop Gwen from doing what she needed to do. Before Pete could string together any sort of protest, Gwen had snugly took hold of his inflating shaft and guided it between the slippery cheeks of her ass. Immediately feeling the velvety warmth of her womb welcome the head of his prick, Pete wrapped his right hand around Gwen's waist and shoved forward. It wasn't long before all the accumulated stress of the previous few hours, if not the past few days and weeks, began bleeding through in each of his increasingly rabid thrusts. Chills racing down his back when he heard Gwen's first yelp of appreciation, Pete added his second hand to support his girlfriend's waist as she pushed both her hands flush against the front wall of the shower stall. "Fuck me," he heard Gwen gasp over the relentless hiss of the shower, and he was more than happy to oblige. Pete had privately wondered just how he was going to get the visceral and disgusting image of Wayne Wurley violating Gwen out of his head. As twisted as it was, he now understood where Gwen was coming from. Ramming his crotch into her behind until he was plowing full speed ahead, Pete could feel the catharsis billowing from his pores as Gwen worked out her demons below. Her cunt fiercely squeezing at his cock now like a pistoning vice, Pete realized he wasn't so much holding her waist to support Gwen, but to keep her from completely tossing him like a out of control bronco. In the chaos and mayhem of their desperate need, Pete was totally unaware the bathroom door had drifted open. The water beading on their saturated bodies, Pete eased his legs to the outside of Gwen's, encircling her the best he could as she began to stomp and quiver on the soaked floor of the tub. Rubbing his left hand through the strands of blonde hair that clung to Gwen's shoulders as she bowed her head, Pete could only imagine the horrible thoughts she was casting away with each successive thrust he made into her. Just as he reached down between her thighs from behind and clamped the fingers of his right around the bulging nub of her clitoris however, Pete saw Jenny's partially exposed face staring on from behind the shower curtain. The report of Gwen's spastic cries instantly filled the shower stall as she bucked and writhed backwards against Pete's embedded cock, utterly oblivious that Jenny Stone was standing directly above her, looking eagerly on. Way past the point of no return, Pete wasn't getting his dick back until Gwen was good and ready. Measuring Jenny's disturbingly calm stare, it was clear she wasn't going to turn away either if Gwen happened to look up. Pinching his fingers around Gwen's clit yet again, Pete allowed a nuclear glow to radiate through his body feeling the way his girlfriend's torso convulsed at the same moment Jenny's eyes filled with depraved appreciation for what she was witnessing. Reaching his left hand around Gwen from behind, Pete eagerly massaged her soaked breasts as he repeatedly pressed and rolled her clitoris with his right. It wasn't long before Pete noticed one of Jenny's hands drift towards her crotch as she stood with rapt fascination just on the other side of the curtain. Forcing his chest tight against Gwen's back as he pounded her from behind, Pete's blood began to boil as he looked the young girl straight in the eyes, absorbing the carnal image of Jenny masturbating just a foot and a half away. "UUUHHH..UUHHH..UUUHHHHH," Gwen's throaty moans filled the room, each one rising and falling with the collisions Pete made riding her hard from behind. Most of his plasma already clustered far from his brain, Pete nearly blacked out when he saw Jenny began easing her free hand forward, pushing it through the castoff falling from Gwen's bent over body before allowing her open palm to come to rest, right beside his, on Gwen's swinging breasts. Pete sensed it wouldn't take long, even in Gwen's current condition, for her to feel the difference in texture of the two hands now groping her chest. Given Pete's perfect view, it appeared as if everything was happening in slow motion as his girlfriend slowly raised her head to see where the third hand exploring her body had come from. Jenny never so much as blinked when Gwen's eyes met hers. Instead, the 18 year old closed her fingers tighter around the whimpering woman's bosom until Gwen's knees were buckling beneath the rushing water. Fighting with everything he had to keep from cumming while the sordid image below continued to unfold, it didn't take long for Gwen's reaction to Jenny's advances to register. Pete's eyes crossed, and his head whiplashed backwards, when Gwen's already churning vaginal muscles gripped like mad at his buried prick each time the younger girl rolled Gwen's plump right nipple between her fingers. ""MMMMMMMMMMMM... SHHHHIIIITTTTTTT... MOTHEEERRRRRRFUUCCKKKKKKKK," Gwen growled as she hurled her rear end backwards against Pete's stabbing girth. Despite the obvious effect she was having on Gwen, Jenny was far from done. Given her seemingly psychic sexual acumen, Jenny could clearly sense how close Gwen was to the edge. Keeping the pressure on the naked woman's right breast tight with her left hand, Jenny pulled her right away from her own sweltering crotch and slipped it inside the shower stall. Extending her fingers as she guided them towards Gwen's contorting face, Jenny traced the musky scented digits across the other woman's parted lips before slipping them inside Gwen's mouth. Jenny immediately felt how every muscle in Gwen's body was firing as she withstood an assault from both sides. Holding her fingers on Gwen's tongue for nearly a minute, allowing the rich and tangy nectar coating them to drift down the older woman's gullet, Jenny finally pulled her fingers free, tracing them first over Gwen's chin, then down the center of her throat. Continuing to ease the tip of her fingers lower, Jenny zigzagged them playfully across Gwen's chest before darting them between her heaving breasts. By the time she'd slide the fingers of her right hand over Gwen's quivering belly and guided them directly up to the puckered pink bloom of her impaled womb, Jenny could tell the naked woman was on the verge of utter collapse. Jenny wasted no time flicking her thumb across the button of Gwen's throbbing clitoris a good dozen times, each swipe causing an increasingly lurid gasp to bleed from the trembling woman's lungs. Seeing the way the veins in Pete's neck bulged as he held on to Gwen for dear life, Jenny filled with a dizzying sense of sexual power as the couple in shower careened towards duel release. Gracefully easing her fingers away from Gwen's swollen cunt, Jenny teasingly scraped the tips of her nails along the underside of Pete's pistoning prick until she'd gently cupped his straining balls in her hand. There wasn't a man alive that could have kept from busting his nut once Jenny did that. "GGAAAAWWWDDDDDAAAMMMMMMMMMM.. .FFFUUU... FFFUUU.. FUUUCCKKKKKKKKK," Pete's voice tore through the cramped, steamfilled space as the torrent of his boiling seed found a home deep inside Gwen's churning womb. The warm, bathing rush of Pete's cum splashing through her spasming vaginal walls was the last straw for Gwen as well. Crashing forward as a low and goosebump inducing guttural moan rose from her diaphragm, Gwen forehead crashed into the front wall of the shower stall as Jenny rapidly spun her right hand across the very spot Pete's cock continued to ram into Gwen's screaming quim, leaving the couple at the point of complete exhaustion by the time she was done. ___________________ The sound of Rhonda and Leroy entering the house would have likely ended the suarez in the shower, if the supply of hot water hadn't exhausted itself first. Jenny had disappeared with the exact same secrecy as she'd entered the bathroom well before Pete and Gwen could so much as reach for a towel, leaving the couple to examine yet again the twisted swerve their relationship had taken. "You've had sex with her," Gwen asked at some point, more with tepid amusement than anything. "Not exactly," Pete replied, his knees and his vocal chords still jelly. "Was that the first time you've had a woman touch you like that?" Pete came back as he helped dry Gwen off. "Plead the Fifth," the young paralegal blushed. Pete and Gwen finished getting dressed then walked back out into the living room. Instantly seeing the 'no bullshit' look on Leroy's face as he sat on the sofa with Rhonda to left side and Jenny to the right, Pete was quickly reminded of the can of worms they'd just opened that night with the powers that be of that little town.... End of Part 3 Parts 4 and more will be out hopefully by late Spring or early Summer..thanks for reading!!