19 comments/ 59019 views/ 15 favorites John's Case Gets Complicated By: EnCarta All the characters depicted in this story are 18 years old or older. * Rachel Griffith was not a happy camper. She had married her high school sweetheart and eighteen years later she had had enough. Her husband John had been quite the catch when they started dating back when dinosaurs ruled the earth. He was an athlete, competitive and smart, qualities that would serve him well as he went on to be a successful lawyer. Rachel was completely in love with him back in school. That probably explained why she was knocked up when she graduated. John went on to university while Rachel kept house for him and their daughter. They had kept the spark alive for a long time. But then Melissa had hit her teens. She had cut her hair spiky short and died it peroxide blonde. She had become rebellious and started giving them problems. Real problems. Drugs, boys, sex, girls, sex, more drugs. It was hard on both of them. They did the best they could but as their frustrations grew they started taking it out on each other. Rachel hadn't really been with any other man besides John. John hadn't been with any other women. His career was very demanding and he didn't have any time to fool around. Rachel, on the other hand, with Melissa away more and more, had plenty of time on her hands. She got in with a group of girl friends at the Country Club, some unhappily married, some divorced, all of them on the prowl. In their company Rachel began to realize that at 36 years old she didn't have to settle for a second rate life. She was still young and attractive. She started working out at the gym. She went shopping with her girl friends and got some new clothes that showed off her curvaceous figure. The next thing she knew, men were starting to pay attention to her, to flirt with her. All kinds of men. Men John knew, men he didn't. Younger men, interesting men. She went out a couple of times and she was surprised to find out how exciting it was to be with someone new, to have sex with him. She started to see other men regularly. Then suddenly Rachel decided she wanted a new life. She deserved a new life. To hell with John and his boring lawyer friends. To hell with their delinquent daughter. She talked to a couple of women at the club, women who had done very well in their divorces. The name of one lawyer kept coming up. Amanda Starr had represented a number of the divorced women she knew and won them lucrative settlements. Rachel decided to go and see her. Mrs. Starr, as it turned out, was an extremely attractive red head about Rachel's age. She was easy to talk to and still professional. Rachel immediately felt comfortable with her. She told her the whole story. Well most of it anyway. She told her about her 18 years of marriage. She told her about her daughter. How Melissa had been the love of their life and then all the trouble she had been in. Rachel told Amanda about her vision of a new life. Then she told her about her problem. She didn't think John would care all that much about her leaving him. Aside from having to shoulder more of the burden of dealing with Melissa, he didn't really pay that much attention to her anymore. The problem was that she'd need a pretty substantial share of the money, his money, their money. But she didn't think she had very good grounds. Melissa was no longer a minor and wouldn't need child support. John hadn't been cheating on her. In truth she was the one that was screwing around. But she couldn't live on air. She needed a settlement and a good one. Ms. Starr looked at her new client with an amused smile. "Rachel. You're a good mother, a good homemaker and you're a very attractive woman. Doesn't your husband realize how lucky he is?" "Lucky!" Rachel snorted. "John thinks getting lucky is sex for his birthday. Other than that, as long as dinner is on the table and Melissa isn't passed out in the living room on any given night then he doesn't even know if I'm there or gone." "Are you saying that your sexual relations are infrequent?" "Once every couple of months if he can stay awake long enough is damned infrequent. It's sure as hell isn't what I'm looking for." "Is he gay?" "Gay! Hah! He isn't gay! On the odd occasion that we do go out his eyeballs are on stilts every time a good looking woman crosses the room. It's just me he doesn't have time for and I'm fed up with it!" "I see..." said the smiling attorney. "Do you Ms. Starr? Do you see my dilemma? I want a divorce. He won't care. And I want enough money to live, to live well. He won't be so agreeable about that. And if there's an appearance in court and evidence comes out about who did what to who, then I would be the guilty party and I'd get nothing." "And you're sure his lack of interest isn't because he's indulging himself in his own extra-curricular activities?" "Positive! He's got his work, he's got his buddies and a wife who is there for him...well most of the time anyway. He plays golf every Saturday and he isn't fooling around, I god damn guarantee it!" "Be that as it may Rachel, I suggest we proceed as follows. We bring an action for divorce naming your husband as the unfaithful party. We acquire evidence to substantiate this claim, evidence that is damning enough that your husband will not want to see it presented in open court. It then becomes a matter of simply negotiating an appropriate agreement in light of these circumstances. We make an out-of court settlement that, even after my fees, I think you will find to be very...comfortable." "But Amanda. I just told you he isn't having an affair. He never did. How can you provide evidence to the contrary?" Ms. Starr looked thoughtful for a moment. "Rachel, trust me! This is what I do. Wendy Adamovich recommended me didn't she? Her circumstances weren't all that different from yours. Men are nothing if not predictable. In certain circumstances they all have their Achilles heel, or perhaps Achilles dick might be a more appropriate reference. I don't think you really want to know the nuts and bolts of how I plan to resolve this thing. Let's just say that I have several highly skilled operatives who will uncover the evidence we need in this matter. Leave it with me for a couple of weeks and I'll get back to you." Rachel actually was quite curious about what Mrs. Starr was planning to do but a couple of more questions got her no further details. So Rachel just signed the ream of documents that promised the attorney 30% of whatever settlement was reached, payable over the duration of the agreement. She tried another question but Amanda just responded that she'd be in touch soon, so Rachel left. John Griffith was at work a couple of weeks later when an interesting brief landed on his desk. It was another divorce action, his bread and butter. In itself it wasn't all that intriguing. The plaintiff was a Mrs. Rachel Robinson (his new client). Her husband John was a noted neurosurgeon at the Royalmont Medical Center. There was a daughter, a minor named Melissa. That was the interesting thing that caught John's eye, John, Rachel, Melissa. The big difference was that the doctor's daughter was much younger than his Melissa. John smiled at the coincidence for a moment and then scanned the file. It seemed Rachel Robinson had caught the good doctor with his pants down. She named two co-respondents specifically while alluding to innumerable others. Doctor Robinson was being represented by an Amada Starr. John had heard of Ms. Starr. Apparently she was the lawyer of choice these days for 'hard done by' female spouses. She didn't usually take on the husbands. But he had heard that she was good, that she had won some pretty healthy settlements. Not much court time though. And that was where John earned his rather outrageous fees. Well this should be interesting. He had interviewed the husband. This was before the good doctor signed on with Ms. Starr. Dr. Robinson had flatly denied that he had been fooling around. Never happened! His wife was a demented bitch. She could hit the road any time she wanted. That was fine with him. But he'd look after the daughter. And not a dime for his cunt of a wife. So it looked like there was going to be a big custody battle here with a well known neurosurgeon in the middle of it. John started to day dream about that new Lexus he'd been lusting after. Maybe he could afford the bigger model after all. After meeting the doctor, who John didn't find very believable at all, he booked a meeting with the women named in the suit to take their depositions. Well he booked one meeting with an Amber Lane. The other woman named, Tiffany Andress, had yet to be located. But his staff were working on it. Amber Lane worked late apparently and asked if she could come in on a Wednesday evening about seven, just before her shift. By now Mrs. Starr had refused access to her client or the witnesses unless she was present. John had his staff check with Ms. Starr who said she could make herself available to appear with Ms. Lane. So John agreed and the following Wednesday evening he walked into his conference room 'C', the small one, to talk to Ms. Lane along with Ms. Starr. Ms. Starr and Ms. Lane were both sitting on one side of the big cherry wood table. John actually stopped in mid-stride coming through the doorway at his first sight of the two attractive women. The younger of the two stood up when she saw John standing there. She looked to be about 23, a tall, stunning looking girl who was wearing a flight attendant uniform, blue skirt, matching jacket, white blouse, nylons and heels. Her jet black hair was pulled up and pinned up behind. The other woman, presumably Ms. Starr, stood up a little more slowly. Her mane of red hair framed her face in artful disarray. She had on a tailored grey suit that was buttoned in the front. To soften her look she was wearing a plunging black satin bodice beneath her jacket that revealed a hint of substantial cleavage. John looked back and forth appreciatively between the two women until the taller one stuck out her hand and said... "Mr. Griffith, I'm Amber Lane." "Miss Lane. How do you do." John said, shaking hands. And then, extending his hand to the red head... "Ms. Starr. I'm John Griffith. I've heard about your work. It would appear your client will be well represented in this matter." "Mr. Griffith. I've heard you're no pushover yourself. This will be interesting don't you think?" Ms. Starr replied, the hint of a smile curling her scarlet lips. Everyone smiled congenially at each other and sat down. Ms. Starr had a laptop open on the desk. She pulled out a mini tape recorder, put it on the desk in front of her and clicked it on. John did the same. He made a few remarks about the format of the interview and advised Ms. Lane that although she was not under oath, her responses would be noted and could be used in court. Any untrue statements she made could ultimately result in charges of perjury. Ms. Lane said she understood. John went on to get some background on Ms. Lane. "You're a flight attendant I presume?" Ms. Lane smiled and answered..."No. Actually I work at the 'Landing Strip'. It's a private club out by the airport. Do you know it? We have a lot of lawyers as customers...I mean members." "I know of it." John replied. The 'Landing Strip' was a Gentlemen's Club that he had heard was a pretty racy establishment, a glorified strip club. He had never been out there though. "And what do you do at the Club Ms. Lane?" Rather than answer, Ms. Lane stood up, undid the top button of her shirt and said..."Do you mind if I take off my jacket? It's very warm in here." John simply nodded and smiled. Without for a moment taking her eyes off his, Ms. Lane slowly removed her jacket revealing the most amazing pair of spherical breasts straining against her shirt. She was obviously not wearing a bra. Those two thrusting beauties swayed and rippled most enticingly beneath her white satin shirt as she shrugged off her flight jacket. John did his best to try and remain unflustered by this unexpected display but he could feel his ears reddening slightly, And that wasn't the only place the blood was starting to pound. Amber Lane remained standing, looking down on John. "I'm in flight services at the Club" she said with a smile. John knew he would have to get more detail but his composure was ruffled. He pulled a photo from his pocket and put it on the table. "Do you know this man?" Amber glanced at the picture. "Sure. That's Doctor John." "And how do you know him?" "Oh he's a member of the Club." "And do you see him often?' "Yes. I'd say he comes in pretty often." "Do you have a relationship with Dr. John?" "Councillor!..." Ms. Starr said to him warningly. "Ms. Starr!..." John replied, not intimidated. "Do you or did you have a relationship with Dr. John, Ms. Lane." "Dr. John was friendly with lots of the girls Mr. Griffith. I think he spent a lot of time with Tiffany but he liked me too. It's our job to be friendly." As she was talking, Ms. Lane reached up and pulled a few pins from the knot of her coiffure. She shook her head and a cascade of lustrous hair fell to her shoulders. A heady fragrance of perfume wafted towards John. "Mr. Griffith..." began Ms. Starr... "The 'Landing Strip' is a private Club, not a whore house. The young ladies who work there like Ms. Lane are there to entertain, to be personable. But there are rules at the Club. Limits. I don't think that providing the kind of service that is available in a state licensed establishment constitutes 'having a relationship' of the kind that you are implying." "Do you not Ms. Starr? Do you not. Well let's see shall we?" "Ms. Lane. In your own words please describe one of Dr. John's typical visits to the Club." "Well, he'd usually come in around 8:00, not very late but he always wanted to get home at a reasonable hour. He had a very stressful job. He'd have a couple of drinks, watch the girls dance for a half an hour or so. Then he'd kind of wave either me or Tiffany over." "Ah yes, Tiffany" Ms. Starr interjected..."I haven't been able to speak to her yet. Can you put me in touch with her Amber?" "I'm sorry Ms. Starr. She left the Club a couple of months ago and I haven't heard from her. But I'll let her know you want to speak to her if she calls." "And so he'd wave you over..." John prompted. "Yeah. He'd ask one of us to come over. He'd buy us a drink and then suggest we head up to the VIP lounge." "The VIP Lounge?" "Unn Hnn! That's upstairs. It's much more private and quite a bit more comfortable than the main part of the Club. Also there's a significant up-charge in the fees for using the Lounge. Of course the service is more personal up there as well." "More personal Ms Lane. In what way more personal?" "Well let's say I were to dance for you in the club. There's a little box I'd bring over to your table and I'd stand on that and dance for you. If we're in the VIP lounge though I would get closer and be a little more ... you know...friendly." "No I don't know Ms. Lane. In what way would you be 'more friendly'?" "It'd be easier if I just showed you." "Of course" John answered. "Is it alright?" Amber asked Ms. Starr. "I'd rather see it here than in court" said Ms. Starr. Amber turned back to John, regarding him with a predatory grin. Then she started to sway her hips as she reached up and began to open her blouse further. She sidled slowly around the table towards John popping buttons one after the other as she moved. John had the good sense to make a quick adjustment to the front of his pants under the table to allow his growing erection room to expand as Amber approached him. When she stood right beside him her shirt was unbuttoned down to the waistband of her skirt. John couldn't help but glance at the creamy curves of her tits that were now peeking through the front of her parted shirt "Why don't you turn your chair for me John. Let me show you what I mean by being more friendly. John awkwardly bumped his chair around, trying desperately to look Ms. Lane in the eye. Amber gracefully sank to her knees in front of him. She put her hands on his knees and pushed them wide apart. Then she edged forward into that vee until her barely covered breasts were brushing against his pant covered hard-on. She gently turned her shoulders back and forth in time to some unheard music, rubbing her tantalizing boobs against his now fully distended cock. "I see. I see." John said shakily. "And can you tell me please about the type of conversation that you and Dr. John would have in this situation." the lawyer asked the shameless stewardess crouching between his knees. "Councillor. I really don't see the relevance of that question?" Ms. Star interjected. "Ahhh!...Actually!...I'm trying...Ummm... to establish whether or not the relationship between Ms. Lane and Dr. Robinson was anything more than just a casual one. I think their conversation in this intimate situation would probably be very informative in that regard." And in fact Ms. Starr wanted the councilor's interaction with Ms. Lane to be as intimate as possible. She surreptitiously reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and pressed a button on her cell phone which made it start to ring. Without saying anything she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the display. "Damn" she said as she reached out and switched off her tape recorder. She nodded towards John's and he clumsily reached over to switch his off too, acutely aware of Amber's pneumatic tits pressing against his groin as he did so. "I apologize John. Normally I would never take a call in the middle of a deposition. But we've been having some problems at home with my son. My husband's with him at a counseling session right now. They just want my input for a few minutes. I'm very sorry. Ms. Lane. You can answer that last question of Mr. Griffith's, but no more until I get back. Please councilor." "Of course. Of course, Ms. Starr. We will just finish this point and then make small talk until you get back." "Thank you Mr. Griffith" said Ms. Starr as she exited the room, her cell phone against her ear. What she hadn't mentioned was that her laptop had a very sophisticated camera and recording device as part of its accessories and which were both still turned on. The eye of the camera was part of the logo of the case and had been filming John's side of the table for the whole interview. The audio was also being recorded. "What was the question again? What did we usually talk about? Let me see..." Amber said, an innocent look on her face. At the same time she shifted on her knees, moved her hands up John's thighs and rammed her cushiony breasts into his groin. "Ahhhh!...Ahhh!...It was...Unnn!..." John gasped, moving his hands to Ms. Lane's shoulders to push her back a little. Suddenly Amber was looking at him with a steely glare. "Remember the rules John. The customer can look but not touch!" John was so surprised by Amber's change in demeanor that he immediately took his hands off her. Amber's face softened once more. "But that doesn't mean I can't touch you does it John? You're not usually so nervous are you? Has it been a hard week? Is it Rachel? She doesn't understand you does she John? She doesn't know what you need...But I do... " she said leaning back a little, reaching in and calmly pulling the zipper of John's pants open. John was too amazed to move or speak. "Ummm! You're especially big tonight aren't you baby!" Amber enthused as she deftly twisted John's rigid cock out of his pants. "Oh look at you! You're already leaking already you bad boy! Is Rachel not taking care of you or have you been saving it all for me?" the kneeling temptress teased, reaching in with her free hand and pressing her open palm against his cock crown. Slowly she wiped her palm across John's bloated knob. She smeared the clear pre-come around and around his cock crown in a way that had him gasping for breath. John's Case Gets Complicated "Ms. Lane!...Amber!...Wait!..." John groaned feebly. He knew that this was totally wrong and that he had to put a stop to it right now. But what Ms. Lane was saying was exactly what he needed. There was obviously something illicit going on between her and the doctor. He just wanted to hear a little more and then have her repeat it again in front of Ms. Starr. "What else would you say?" John asked cautiously. But if he was being tentative, his cock wasn't. His balls were achingly taut as the pre-come streamed from his pee slit under Amber's caressing palm. "We don't have a lot of time do we baby? Why don't you just fuck my tits! You know how excited that makes you! You can never hold it very long once you get it in between these beauties! Go on! You know you love it!" Amber purred as she leaned in once more and pulled John's boner into the sumptuous valley between her boobs. With her eyes burning up into his, she cupped her palms on the outer swells of her jugs and pressed them together. John's cock was suddenly sheathed inside the warmest, softest tunnel of flesh that he had ever imagined. He tried to remain still but he had an instinctive urge to hump those delectable mounds. He couldn't help himself from thrusting just a little in and out of their enticing clasp. "Oh God!" he whispered balefully, helplessly tightening his ass and pushing into the softness of her provocative chest a little bit more eagerly. "It's O.K. lover! You always come quick the first time. Rachel won't let you fuck her tits will she? But I will. You can come all over them. Go ahead! Make me all sticky!" Amber encouraged her eyes flashing wickedly into John's. John was having trouble differentiating between the two Rachels, his and Dr. Robinson's. His Rachel would never let him do anything like this even though he had begged her for it many times. And now here was this gorgeous hostess, or whatever she was, telling him to come on her tits. It was too much. "But what about...What about..." John stammered, his eyes drifting nervously towards the door. "What if someone comes in?" Amber asked. "Why we'll just hide the evidence.." she said slyly. She leaned more heavily into John's lap so that the end of his tool thrust through the press of her conical melons. Fixing his eyes with hers, she parted her lips into an inviting oval and stabbed the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She held this lewd pose for a moment until John's eyes went wide in understanding. Then she nodded her head down and took the head of his cock into her leeching mouth. Without ever taking her eyes from his she began to work the tender underside of his knob with broad, juicy flicks of her tongue. "Ahhhh!...Waittt!..." John gasped, helplessly hunching through the press of Amber's voluptuous mammaries. She popped her mouth off the end of his prick for a moment and purred..."Come in my mouth lover and you can watch me swallow it!..." Then she dove back down onto his angrily swollen knob. It was more than the gasping lawyer could take. He grasped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. As his balls tightened into a sickening knot, his hips rose up out of his chair like Amber was a magician levitating him into thin air. And then his loins convulsed and a geyser of sperm erupted under the kneeling siren's siphoning suck. "Ahhh!...Ahhh!...Nahhh!..." John cried in a muted wail as the first mighty jet of come was followed by another and another. He tilted forward at the waist, his back and his thighs straining as his orgasm overwhelmed him. His testicles were spasming crazy fast and crazy hard. He couldn't remember if he'd ever come so violently "Ummm!...Umm Hmm!...Umm Hmm!.." Amber enthused. She was impressed with the volume of gooey come that the gasping lawyer was spewing for her. She pressed him harder in the silky tunnel of her tits to keep him coming. She thought this particular moment should look impressive on tape. As John writhed and twisted beneath her demanding suck, she stayed down on him, swallowing every spurt of come he had to give her. "Ahhh!...Ahhh!...Oh Goddd!..." John groaned as his testicles hammered again and again in his groin, ever more slowly but still generating a generous stream of sperm that Amber was gamely gulping down. The only sign of his infidelity was a little pearl of come that glistened on one corner of her mouth. Then they could hear half of Ms. Starr's conversation as she approached the door. "I really have to go dear....I know but I couldn't help it...Well you can do that as well as I can...When I get home!...Yess!...We'll talk about it then!...Unn Hnn!..." John had immediately grabbed the top of his trousers and tried to pull them up, assuming Amber would cease her incredible blow job. But she didn't. Her eyes just smiled up into his as she continued to suck out the dregs of his searing come. "I don't know how much longer....Maybe I can get this carried over...Well tell him not tonight...It's a school night isn't it....Soon...Very soon..." John looked down pleadingly at Ms. Lane. The sultry raven haired beauty calmly pulled her puckered lips off the end of his tool with a lewd slurping noise. "Did you enjoy that John?...I know I did!..." she said. Her eyes were sparkling merrily into John's as she licked the residue of his come from the corner of her mouth. Without rising from her knees she calmly re-fastened the buttons of her shirt. John stuffed himself back into his pants and straightened his shirt in anticipation of Ms. Starr's entry. "I will...Alright...I'll be there...I'll call you when I'm leaving!..." As Ms. Starr was finishing her conversation and opening the door to the conference room, Amber reached into the pocket of her skirt, pulled a folded slip of paper and slid it across the table to John. John looked at Amber questioningly then glanced quickly at the slip of paper. There was a penciled scribble that said...'Tiffany 555-4757'. John jammed the paper into his pants pocket just as Ms. Starr appeared in the door. The tall red head strode across the room looking questioningly at John and Amber. "Well Mr. Griffith, I hope you haven't been taking advantage of my client while I was on the phone" she said. John blushed a furious crimson at this remark and squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "Oh no Ms. Starr. I was actually just telling Mr. Griffith how I thought he should come down to the Club some time. I'm sure he'd enjoy it and he'd probably see a lot of people he knows there." Amber replied with an innocent smile. Without taking her eyes off John's she rose gracefully from her knees and buttoned her shirt. Ms. Starr continued to stare at John and Amber with a dubious expression on her face. Then she apologized once more and asked if they could finish the interview at a later date. She really had some pressing matters to deal with at home and would be grateful if they could call it an early evening. John made some grumbling noises but in fact he was only too pleased to call it a night. Amber's surprise sexual assault had drained him not only physically but mentally as well. It was obvious that the shapely hostess had been a having sexual relations with Dr. Robinson. It was only a matter of getting her testimony on record, either in a deposition or in a courtroom. He was afraid there might be come stains on his pants so he didn't get up when the two attractive women left the conference room. John had a fleeting moment of guilt about what had just happened, but his Rachel had been acting like a real bitch lately so to hell with it. It wasn't like he was having an affair. It had been an act of temporary insanity. And for whatever reason Amber had given him the number of the other party in the case, Tiffany Andress. He would be making every effort to contact her to arrange an interview before Ms. Starr tracked her down. John was feeling better about that new Lexus all the time. The next day his secretary got a hold of Tiffany Andress but was unable to convince her to come into the office. John called her back himself and gave her his most persuasive spiel that it would be easier and better for her to tell him her story in an informal setting whenever it was convenient for her rather than in front of a judge, in a courtroom, at his convenience. After much hesitation Tiffany agreed that John could come over to her condo and they would talk. And so the next evening at precisely at 7:00 John was standing in the lobby of the Waterview Towers waiting for the burly security guard to announce his arrival to Ms. Andress in suite 2311. Five minutes later he had arrived. John was expecting another attractive woman and the young lady who was waiting for him in the doorway did not disappoint. Ms. Andress stood at her door wearing high heel sandals, white pants and a crimson satin blouse. She was wearing a simple gold necklace and a sparkling diamond on her right hand. She held out that hand confidently when John introduced himself and they shook hands. Tiffany looked to be in her mid-twenties, about five foot nine in her towering heels. She had a short blonde hair-do that looked so artfully disheveled it had probably cost a lot of money. She could have been a model just home from a shoot in Milan. She had the perfectly proportioned figure of a cheerleader which surprised John a little. He had thought that if Dr. Robinson had been so enamored by Amber and her knock out curves that Tiffany would be equally well endowed. Her condo was a corner loft arrangement that was nothing short of magnificent. There was a sunken living room off the entranceway with floor to ceiling windows on two sides that overlooked the harbor far below. Adjacent to the living room was a raised counter with a kitchen behind it. John complimented the young woman on her beautiful home. Tiffany looked at John as if she was considering his remark very carefully and then smiled and thanked him. She pointed him towards the living room while she went up to the kitchen area. There was a drink on the counter next to an open laptop. Tiffany made a quick entry in her computer then picked up her drink and looked at John. "I'm having scotch. Would you like one?" "No! Thanks. I'm fine." John replied, pulling out a pad of paper from the brief case he had brought in with him. Again there was that unnerving pause while Tiffany looked hard at him. "I hate to drink alone." she said. John had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't take much to alienate this young lady so he quickly agreed to the drink. Tiffany topped up her own and a hefty one for John and brought both drinks down into the living room. She took a seat in a chair opposite him and raised her glass. John was more of a wine drinker than a hard liquor man and that first sip of the scotch sent a fiery burn radiating through his chest. He smacked his lips as if he really enjoyed it and smiled at Tiffany. The blonde steadily returned his gaze with just the hint of a smile on her lips. John was finding her cool self possession a little unnerving. He asked if she would answer a few questions about his client's case. Tiffany just shrugged and didn't refuse him. She answered his questions quietly and without elaboration. Yes she knew Dr. John. She had met him at the 'Landing Strip'. Yes he had frequently asked her to spend time with him in the VIP lounge. As John started to delve deeper into their relationship, Tiffany started to take longer in framing her answers. Yes Dr. John had pursued a relationship with her outside of work. He took her out to a couple of times. They grew closer. He suggested she leave the Club. He helped her get the condo. She wouldn't elaborate on that. Then they started spending time together there. John began asking for specifics but Tiffany became evasive. "Would you like another drink?" she asked, finishing her own. They had been talking for at least a half an hour. "Sure" John said, finishing his and handing his glass over as Tiffany stood up and strode towards the kitchen. She was back in a moment and handed John his fresh scotch. Holding his eyes with hers she took a slow drink. John did the same. Tiffany regarded him for another long moment and then said... "I know the information you want and I know that I can be compelled in a court to disclose the details of my relationship with John whether I want to or not. So I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you everything provided that, if this goes to court, you will only ask me to give an overview of my affair with John, not all the intimate particulars. Trust me, you'll have more than enough to satisfy that hard ass wife of his as long as you don't turn my life into a shambles in the process." John thought about this for a moment. He knew that he was walking on thin ice here anyway. There was a process in gathering evidence for a case like this. A judge could throw out any information that was presented if a witness claimed that he/she was entrapped or coerced into giving it. It would be far better to keep Tiffany on side as long as she admitted to the affair. That in itself should be enough to get this thing settled without ever having to go to court. "Alright. But I'll need to know the details. Depending on what you tell me, just the threat of full disclosure against Dr. Robinson should be enough to ensure that this matter never does go to court. I presume that would be your first preference." "Yes it would" Tiffany responded. "Well then, we have a deal..." John said, taking another sip of his drink. "Now tell me about the nature of your relationship with Dr. Robinson." Tiffany looked down at John with an amused smile creasing her lips. "I'm not really comfortable talking about it. Maybe if I were to show you it would be better. Just give me a minute." Tiffany said, putting her drink down and walking out of the room. John wanted to object. He thought he had been clear that they had an understanding but maybe he hadn't expressed himself well. He didn't want to see a bunch of snapshots of weekend get-aways or nights out on the town. He wanted to hear the specifics. But he didn't want to spook Tiffany at this point. So he just waited patiently for her to come back. It took a few minutes. And when Tiffany did return John was totally unprepared for what he saw. Gone was the stylish young woman who he had been talking to just moments before. Tiffany had returned in a blue blazer and a white blouse. She wore a little pleated plaid skirt that barely reached her knees, knee socks and saddle shoes. She had applied some gel to her hair, some dark eye shadow and crimson lipstick. She was holding some books in her folded arms. She looked like a schoolgirl who was trying to make herself look older than she really was. John was amazed at her transformation. He sat there gaping at her. Tiffany watched John's reaction for a moment and then she advanced across the room towards him. "Hi Daddy! I'm sorry I'm late. I got held up a school. That mean old Mr. Crawford made me stay over to see him after class. You know how he is." Tiffany said breezily, dumping her books on the coffee table. She started to take off her blazer as she continued...'Miss Robinson your behavior in class is totally inappropriate. You'll stay here until you've written 'I will not misbehave in class again' 100 times on the board." "Miss Robinson?" John asked in a fog. "Oh he's such an old fuddy duddy! Ever other teacher calls me Melissa but he won't. It's always 'Miss Robinson, you're not paying attention...Miss Robinson, that skirt is too short for the school code... Miss Robinson,...' It's always something with Mr. Crawford. But I got him today daddy, the big jerk." Tiffany said with a note of triumph in her voice. "I can tell you about it but you're probably not interested" she said with a sneer, walking around the coffee table to stand immediately in front of John on the couch. "Tiffany...I don't understand?" the lawyer asked plaintively. "You should call me Melissa daddy. That's what we always do isn't it?" And now John began to see what was happening. It looked like Doctor Robinson was into some serious role playing. Tiffany would get dressed up like his daughter and then they'd act out this twisted little fantasy. Oh this was the stuff that luxury Lexus sedans were made of. He could hardly wait to hear more. But something besides the basic weirdness of the situation was making him uncomfortable. It dawned on him that Tiffany was looking and acting a lot like his own daughter Melissa. Physically they were very similar but beyond that, Tiffany had taken on the same kind of edgy attitude that his Melissa had been displaying a lot of lately "If you're too busy I'll just go to my room!" "No! No! I'm not too busy. Tell me what happened at school." "Melissa..." Tiffany instructed. "Melissa..." John dutifully echoed. Tiffany assumed that they would probably edit out all the material she was video recording on her computer up to this point. Mrs. Starr had given her specific instructions on how she was to proceed. The lighting wasn't going to be great, but that would be all the better. It would be very difficult tell whether or not she really was John Griffith's daughter. It was time to earn her Oscar. "Well..." she began, putting her hands behind her back like a demure little schoolgirl. Of course this pose caused her up-tilted breasts to thrust arousingly through her tautly stretched blouse. "The seating in Mr. Crawford's history class is in tiers to accommodate a big crowd. But there's never more than fifteen or twenty people in his class. He's so boring. Any way, today I made a point of sitting in the middle in the first row. That meant I was just looking down on him slightly. When he'd stand in front of the class his eyes would be just on a level with my knees under my little table. Everybody else sits on the sides or in the back so they can sneak out when he gets too dreary." "I made a point of wearing my shortest little skirt, the one I had Mandy O'Grady cut down for me, the one that Mr. Crawford is always bugging me about. Anyway, Crawdaddy likes to stand in the middle of the floor and drone on about whatever. So today I let him go for a few minutes and then I started flashing him." John could feel a certain stiffening in his groin and his face starting to flush as he began to see where Tiffany was going with her story. "I wasn't too obvious at first, you know, just let my knees kind of open a little...and then a little more. I started opening and closing them real casually, like I didn't even know I was doing it." Tiffany casually put her left foot on the coffee table and started swinging her knee in and out to demonstrate her clever strategy. John stared at the now exposed flesh of her inner thigh with great interest. "But then old Crawdaddy happened to look over at me while I was doing it and the next thing you know he could hardly look away. I knew I had him then." "You had him? How did you have him? I don't understand?" "Don't be silly daddy. Once he started peeking I knew it was all over for him. I almost couldn't stop myself from laughing as he kept turning back to look up my skirt. At first his eyes were kind of jerking up into mine like he was asking permission to look. But eventually he couldn't take his eyes away from my crotch. And I made it easy for him. With my knees wide open I sort of slumped down in my seat so my little skirt rose up on my thighs and my crotch thrust forward. Of course I wasn't wearing any panties. I told you that didn't I?" Tiffany said, pulling her skirt up a little with one hand so that John could just barely make out the bare little slit at the apex of her loins. John's Case Gets Complicated "So of course all of my little peach was there for him to look at as much as he wanted to. And he wanted to. It was so funny. Pretty soon he had this enormous woody sticking out the front of his pants. His face got real red and you could see he was kind of sweating. He was so busy looking at my pussy that he started to stumble through his lecture. He started to stammer and repeat himself and when it seemed like he was getting back on track, I'd just twist in my seat a little bit and give him a little different view and that would get him all tongue tied again." "I kept watching him get hotter and hotter and when I thought he was about ready to come in his pants I said quietly..'Professor Crawford'." "He was so busy staring at my goodies I don't think he even heard me at first." " 'Professor!'...I said again more loudly...". He looked up at me then uncertainly. He didn't even realize what was going on. I took my first picture with my cell phone of him with his big boner sticking out through his pants . I took two or three more before he started to figure out what I was doing. I had told Mandy to watch me from the side of the class where she was sitting and to take a picture of Crawfish and me both when I took his picture." " 'Miss...Miss...Melissa!... What are you doing?... 'he almost screamed as he scuttled behind his desk to try and hide himself." " 'Doing Professor? Why nothing. I was just going to ask to be excused. Something's come up and...well you know how it is don't you professor?...' I said with a snicker, standing up and collecting my books. " 'Young lady!...Young lady!...I will not tolerate this...this...type of behavior! I will see you in my office at 4:15 and we will...will...discuss this matter further...4:15...without fail! And the rest of you...I've had enough of you all for this morning. Class dismissed. Get out!' he yelled." John just sat there, mesmerized equally by Tiffany's provocative story and the view beneath her ultra mini skirt. As she twisted her foot on the coffee table, her knee swung back and forth, giving him quick, unobstructed displays of her clean shaven little clam. He realized he was in danger of falling into the same trap as Mr. Crawford. Quickly he looked up into Tiffany's eyes and said..."But it's not that late. He didn't keep you long." "Of course not daddy! Like I said, I knew I had him. I could do whatever I wanted and there was nothing he could do about it. When I got to his office he started lecturing me about what was acceptable behavior in class and that I had to write all this junk on the blackboard. I listened to him for about two minutes then I reached into my purse and pressed the 'send text' button on my cell phone. A few seconds later his computer made that 'Bing' noise that it does when you get a message." "Oh Professor. It sounds like you've got some mail. What could it be do you think? Of course old Crawdaddy looked at me all suspicious, but what could he do. He turned to his computer and went to his e-mail. I kind of slid around the side of his desk so I could see the e-mail too and watch his reaction." "There were two pictures, one of him standing in front of me in class with his pants bulging out. The second one was the one I had taken of him ogling me with an even better look at his hard-on poking thorough his trousers. I had put a balloon over his head that showed him thinking...'I can't wait to get into that!". "When Crawbone saw that, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. He lurched up out of his chair and started raging about lewd and indecent behavior and blackmail and extortion. I let him rant for a little while and then I just got up and said..." "Well it's up to you prof! You can make a federal case out of it in which case everyone on the faculty, and ultimately everyone in the school, will have a copy of that e-mail on their computer for their amusement. Or you can forget about it, make sure I get a B+ in your class, and those funny little pictures will disappear into cyber space." I had his door open by then and was half way out." " Let me know what you decide...' I said, blowing him a little kiss as I left. So no daddy, I'm not really all that late am I?" "But....Melissa" John said in amazement..." That is blackmail. He can't let you get away with that." Tiffany/Melissa just smiled down at him with flashing eyes. "Oh yes daddy. It's blackmail and it's bad. But I don't think he'll be complaining about it. There may be a few other little juicy bits I left out of the story. But he got the message. Do you get the message daddy?" Tiffany asked him. "Message?...What message?..." John asked uncomfortably, getting the feeling that this interview was getting completely away from him. "Why it's right here. Didn't you see it? " Melissa asked sweetly, turning her knee out and pulling up her little skirt high on her waist. John's eyes drifted helplessly to Melissa's exposed inner thigh. There in lipstick there was drawn a little heart and the words 'FUCK ME' with an arrow pointing right at her naked pussy. "Oh my God!" he gasped almost to himself, his own cock lurching into a full erection as he stared at the lewd invitation in front of him. Tiffany watched John's reaction carefully. Mrs. Starr had warned her that if he was going to cause a problem that this would probably be the moment. She had coached her on how to handle him if he still needed more persuasion. Tiffany could see that he was struggling with his emotions so she decided to follow Mrs. Starr's instructions. Tiffany/ Melissa turned her knee and pushed the coffee table back with her foot. Gracefully she put her hands on his thighs and sank to her knees in front of him. She pushed his legs apart and moved in between them. "Before I tell you exactly what I did to Mr. Crawford daddy, why don't I give you a blow job. I'm very good. You'll really like it!..." Melissa said with a pouty smile, quickly unfastening John's belt and the zipper of his pants before he could object. "Melissa! Stop! You can't!..." John groaned, his hands working against hers to try and stop her. But when Melissa pulled the front of his shorts down with one hand and closed her other hand tight on his bare cock he stiffened up all over in unwanted excitement. He dropped his hands to the couch and held on tight to try and control himself "Oh shit!" he groaned. Melissa smiled up at him and increased the pressure of her already tightly clasping hand. He was so hard her fingers barely dented his steely flesh. She pulled his shorts down under his balls and cupped them warmly in her free hand. Mrs. Starr had told her that once she got his balls in her hand she could make him do anything she wanted. And Melissa could tell from John's frantic squirming at her touch that Ms. Starr had been right. The middle aged lawyer couldn't believe this was happening. Melissa's wanton fondling combined with the two quick scotches were making his head spin. The line between reality and fantasy was starting to blur in his mind. This young woman who was seducing him was acting just like the little slut that he feared his own daughter was becoming. "You can't know anything about blow jobs" he said in disbelief, thinking more about his own Melissa than the tantalizing blonde kneeling before him Melissa smiled as John looked down at her with panicy eyes. She started stroking him with slow, firm tugs making John suck in air in arousal. "You obviously haven't heard about the lunch hour special in the Riverdale Academy Girls' Bathroom. Blow Jobs - $20. Cash only. And guess who is the 2009 Blow Job Queen for December?" Melissa asked with a sultry smile, pulling John's cock towards her while still jacking him off with a slow, twisting hand. John just gaped at her in disbelief as his nuts began to stiffen up in excitement. Melissa felt it and gave those sensitive nuggets and encouraging squeeze. "Where do you think my I-Phone came from daddy, the tooth fairy?" Melissa taunted, shuffling closer on her knees so that her mouth was poised just in front to the head of John's throbbing meat. A glistening pearl of pre-come emerged from his gaping pee slit and seeped slowly across his crimson knob. Melissa saw it and swept her thumb upwards, smearing the viscous goo around and around the helmet of his rigid tool. "Oh Goddd!" John gasped. Melissa's cruising thumb was sending lightning bolts of excitement shooting through his groin. He squirmed and whimpered, unable to tear his eyes away from her hand as she worked over his tender cock. His pre-come began to stream out in response to her touch. "Don't sweetheart! We can't! This isn't right!" John groaned half heartedly as the come began to churn for release in his balls. Melissa could feel it and she palmed those taut little spheres up into his groin in a way that she knew would further increase his arousal. "But daddy, I give terrific head. All the boys say so! Just let me..." And without any further discussion, Melissa bobbed her head down. Her lips parted into a sinful O as they slipped over his greasy knob and she took him into her mouth. She moved her hand down to the middle of his shaft while she sucked avidly on his bloated cock crown. She never took her eyes from his as she jacked him off into her lewdly siphoning mouth. "Ahhhhh! Noooo!" John moaned in disbelief. Melissa's cheeks began to invert as she slowly increased the intensity of her suck. "Umm Hmm! Umm Hmm! Umm Hmm!..." she groaned encouragingly The whole situation was too overwhelming for the gasping lawyer. He had never consciously had any incestuous fantasies but somehow in his mind the Melissa sucking his cock had become his daughter. He couldn't do this with her. It was too perverted. And yet he had never been more excited in his life. He felt like a teenager himself, ready to blow after just the briefest teasing. He tried to hold it back, squirming on the couch and whispering..."Don't honey! Stop! Please!..." But Melissa could tell that she had him on the edge and she knew just how to push him over. She pulled her slavering mouth off the end of his cock with a loud slurp. She drove her fist down his shaft, opened her hand and ringed the base of his cock with her thumb and forefinger. "At school we have little contests sometimes daddy. We see who can make the boys shoot into the next cubicle..." Melissa purred, tightening the pressure of her ringing fingers. John's erection was visibly throbbing with excitement, his balls taut with arousal. It was only Melissa's choking fingers that were holding back his come. "Wanna see how we do it?..." she purred with a playful wink. Without waiting for John's response she dove back down onto his cock. Only this time, instead of just sucking him, she plunged her mouth up and down on him, attacking his angry knob with her tongue. "Unnn! Nahhh! Ahhh!..." John groaned, his heart racing with excitement as a fiery arousal swept through his loins. Helplessly he started hunching up into Melissa's voraciously leeching mouth. She had to press her gripping fingers hard around him to keep him from coming. "Ummm! Ummm! Ummm!..." she moaned as she fucked his tumescent length with her mouth for a moment longer. She turned his eyes up to his once again as she churned her stiffened tongue against the underside of his knob. "Oh Christ!...Waittt!..." John cried. His thighs went rigid and his ass rose six inches off the couch when she did that. Melissa smiled at his distress and swept her mouth off him once again. His scarlet length was pounding for release under her ringing hand. "This is how we do it!..." she cooed as she eased the pressure of her encircling fingers on his erection and gripped him again at the base of his hard-on with her tiny fist. At the same time she cupped his nuts once more in the palm of her hand and squeezed them firmly just like she was squeezing toothpaste out of a tube. "Come on daddy! Do it! Come for me!" she whispered, jerking the root of his cock with short, hard strokes. There was a heartbeat of anticipation while Melissa pumped him, looking into John's anxious eyes with amusement. Then his balls kicked. "Phwahh!..." he cried, bucking upwards under the blonde's provocative fondling. A long bolt of creamy come streaked upwards over Melissa's shoulder. The first one was followed by another and another in quick succession, fiery darts of juice that could be heard landing wetly on the wooden floor behind her. "Ahhhh! Ummm! Ohhh!" John grunted, twitching in his seat with every jet of sperm like he was being electrocuted. "Yeah! That's it daddy! Ummm! What a big load you've got for your little girl! Mmm Hmm! That's it! Give it to me daddy! Shoot it for me! Like that! Mmm Hmm! Mmm Hmm!..." Melissa encouraged, now jerking John's cock in time with his feverish ejaculation. "Ahhhh! Ahhh! Ohhh!" John groaned as his orgasm went on and on. His spurts were spewing in ever diminishing arcs and were now starting to land in Melissa's hair, on her shoulder and on her blouse. The kneeling blonde never flinched. "Come daddy! Come on my face! You know you want to! ..." she purred. The amused smile never left her face even as she turned his spewing cock towards herself. In fact she jacked him a little harder, coaxing a resurgent flurry of come spurts over her cheeks, her lips and even her eyes. She blinked away the slimy goo without missing a beat of her persuasive hand strokes. "Ummm! I'll bet I look like a nasty little slut don't I daddy?" Melissa asked John, her eyes sparkling into his as his greasy sperm glistened in snail trails across her smiling face and up into her hair. "Oh God Baby!.. Ohhhh!... Stop!...Easy!... You could never be a slut..." John groaned as Melissa's wringing hands kept him spasming even after his aching testicles had no more to give. He tried to squirm away from her now painfully caressing hands but she wouldn't let him. She held him firmly by his cock and his balls and continued working him over, wanting to be sure that she had gotten every drop that he had before she started on him again. Melissa didn't say anything in response to John's last remark. She just tweaked his tender testicles with her fingertips making him gasp and shudder and causing a final froth of semen to bubble out of his pee slit. She thought he was sweet to say his little girl couldn't be a slut. She wondered if he was going to be surprised when he found out just how wrong he was.