1 comments/ 19975 views/ 9 favorites One Fleeting Glance By: Cromagnonman I had seen her every day for the last three weeks, her poise, and the confident way that everything she did reflected that self confidence, was evident to me and everyone else who saw her. Our eyes met for the first time this morning. There would have been at least a dozen people between us on the train, but it felt as if we, in that one fleeting moment, were alone. There was a sense of familiarity in her eyes as they lingered briefly on mine and, with that one look she had me captive. I was in love. We were part of the throng that got off at City Centre station. We were part of the throng that walked up Main Street. Over the past three weeks I had lost her in the throng about here, but not this morning, this morning was different because I made the decision, the very second our eyes met, that I would look out for her in the crowd and find out where she worked. So I followed her. I followed her into my building. I followed her into the elevator. She glanced briefly in my direction as I entered and moved to the back of the elevator car, there was no recognition in that glance. I followed her to her floor before realising that it was also my floor. Intrigued I walked down the passage to the staff entrance of my office, noticing as I did that she headed in the opposite direction towards a rival Law Office. 'Very intriguing indeed, and well worth following up on.' I thought as I walked to my desk. It was with difficulty that I dragged my attention from the vision of her to the brief in front of me. 'Get a grip.' I told myself, 'You have a court appearance in an hour and there is still work to be done.' My phone buzzed to tell me that my client, Peter, was waiting in Reception for our final pre-trial conference. He was fighting a speed infringement notice where the police officer booked him for travelling at 94 km/h in an 80 zone. "Now the officer will give his evidence first, and he will state, under oath, that he clocked you up until you hit 94 and then he locked his laser gun at that speed so that you wouldn't have to pay the higher fine if he had clocked you at 95. This he did so that you would think he was doing you a favour and not fight the infringement notice." "Now this is where we challenge his evidence, the Prosecution isn't going to like it, but we have no choice, we have to establish doubt in the mind of the Magistrate." "After he has given his evidence it is our turn and I will call you to the stand. Now your evidence is straight forward, you will swear that you, because of the steep slope and the fact that you were driving an automatic vehicle that has little, if any, engine braking available to it, accidentally allowed your speed to creep up, briefly, to 84 at the point where he would have checked your speed, at which time you applied the brakes and reduced your speed to below the speed limit. 84 is an acceptable speed due to instrument inaccuracy allowances in some cars." "The prosecution will challenge your evidence and when it is their turn to sum up they will claim that it is a case of your word against that of a sworn officer of the law. What we are going to have to do is to convince the Magistrate otherwise, and this is where I play my trump card. I am confident we can beat this." We left the office and walked the short distance to the court. After checking the list for the morning session, Peter and I sat on a bench outside waiting to be called. Time staggers by slowly in situations like this. Eventually the Clerk came out and called Peter's name. We went inside and to my shock, there she was, seated at the Prosecution table. She was a Junior Solicitor for the Prosecution. A hint of recognition crossed her face when she looked at Peter and I as we took our positions. The Prosecutor called Senior Sergeant Gerard Thomas to the stand and he was duly sworn in. He was taken quickly and expertly through his testimony and turned over to me for cross-examination. "Sergeant Thomas, you gave evidence that you turned your speed detection device, your laser gun, off so that my client would not face an even greater penalty, is that correct?" "That is correct." "Very magnanimous gesture, do you do it often?" "Not often, no." "But in this case you did?" "That is correct." "So your laser gun can be locked off at any time?" "That is correct." "How many bookings on that day, at that location, did you make where the speed was 94 kilometres per hour?" "I didn't keep count, but not that many." "Let me draw your attention to your booking sheet for that day and that location. Now, according to this you issued 35 infringement notices, not a bad haul I would suggest." "It was a good day, yes." "According to this sheet, some 22 of those bookings were for a speed of 94 kilometres per hour, now doesn't that seem a little strange to you?" "I don't dictate how fast people drive." "But your Superiors might take a dim view that instead of getting 320 dollars for each of those bookings they only got 160 dollars. That's a loss to them of three thousand fivr hundred and twenty dollars. I know that if you worked for me and gave away that amount of money I wouldn't be pleased." Sergeant Thomas stared at his feet. "Could there be another explanation for this strange coincidence?" "No." "No further questions of this witness." As I sat down I glanced at her. She had smiling eyes, and they were smiling at me. My heart skipped a beat and I almost didn't here the Magistrate telling that it was my turn. I took Peter through his evidence and then it was the Prosecutor's turn. Peter gave his answers in a confident manner that the Prosecutor couldn't shake. We lost nothing from this. Now it was time for our trump card. "I call Mister Stephen Vickery." A tall thin man with long, receding hair and a permanent stoop entered the court. "Mister Vickery, would you state for the court your occupation." "I am a Senior Instrument Technician for the Avionics Section of the Department of Science, Defence Technology." "And what do your duties involve?" "I manufacture and test a range of high tech instruments used in the aviation and aerospace industries." "And does this involve speed measuring and tracking devices?" "Yes it does." "So you are familiar with the various speed measuring devices in use by the Police Force in this state?" "Very much so." "You sound as if you have some reservations about these instruments?" "The latest ones are almost fool, and tamper proof." "I have here a Laser Speed Measuring Device that is in every way identical to the one used by Sergeant Thomas on the day in question. I would like your assessment as to the reliability and accuracy of this particular model?" "There were several problems identified in this particular machine, the most notable being is lack of accuracy in tracking the speed of vehicles that were travelling down a steep incline." "As in this case?" "Yes." "And this particular device, has it been replaced by a better model?" "Yes and no." "Yes and no?" "While it has been superseded some are still in operation." "At the time of the incident in question, if you were a Police Officer who had concerns as to the accuracy of this instrument, given the availability of better models, and you were going to be checking the speed of vehicles travelling down a steep hill, would this be your instrument of choice?" "No." "The inaccuracy that you mentioned, does it give a reading higher or lower than the actual speed travelled?" "Significantly higher." "And the Police are aware of this?" "Yes." "This machine, does it have a time and date stamp on the display?" "No." "And when the operator locks off the speed on the display, this stays until the display is reset, is this correct?" "Yes, in fact I have heard of officers locking off their laser gun and using that speed to book several motorists." "Objection!" The Prosecutor was on his feet in a flash. "This is hearsay." The die had been cast. I moved on. "Mister Vickery, did you test the accuracy of the speedometer of my client's vehicle?" "Yes, and I found it to be accurate to within 1 percentage point." "So, if he, as he has stated, observed his speedometer indicating a speed of 84 kilometres per hour, what, when you tested his vehicle, was the actual speed?" "83.6 Kilometres per hour." "Less than the indicated speed?" "Marginally less, yes" "Not 94 kilometres per hour as Sergeant Thomas has testified?" "No, it would not be possible for that difference to have occurred." "And when did you test the vehicle?" "On the same day of the infringement notice, within 2 hours of its issue in fact." "That will be all, thank you." "Mister Vickery," The Prosecutor was taking his time to frame his first question, the evidence given by Vickery had come out of left field, he hadn't been told of any problems with the laser gun. "The testing protocol used by you, is there any margin for error." The look Vickery gave was pure incredulity, he couldn't believe that anyone would pose such a question. "The best way that I can answer that is to give you an example. Take, if you will, the situation in which one of our highly trained fighter pilots is travelling at Mach 2, that is twice the speed of sound, in an aeroplane that has cost this country some six and a half billion dollars to buy and equip. The instrumentation on that plane has to be accurate to a tolerance of one thousandth of one percent. If it isn't we are in great danger, in fact it would be a certainty, of losing not only a very expensive piece of technology, but the life of a highly trained pilot. We used the same testing protocol on the defendant's motor vehicle. There is no margin for error, unlike I suggest, the equipment used in this case by the police." "Thank you, that will be all." The Magistrate sat and stared at Sergeant Thomas for several minutes before he began bringing down his verdict. "Sergeant Thomas, while the counsel for the Defendant stopped short of accusing you of using faulty equipment, knowing it to be faulty, for your own advantage, and that advantage was to increase the number of infringement notices that you issue. I am not going to be so cautious, Sergeant Thomas I am going to recommend to the Police Department that they examine the records of all officers who used that equipment, paying special attention to the locations where they were used, and if it is found that officers deliberately set up these speed traps in locations where there was a steep downhill slope, I will recommend that all of the infringement notices be cancelled, that fines be repaid, demerit points be re-instated and if a motorist has had his or her licence cancelled as a result of such infringement notice, especially if that person has lost employment as a result, that the licence be returned and compensation paid. I find that the defendant is not guilty of the infringement for which he has been charged. I also award costs against the Police Department. The gavel banged down on the bench. End of story. Peter shook my hand and thanked me and, as we left I felt someone grab my sleeve. I turned to look into the most beautiful big blue eyes that I have ever seen. "Hi, Mister Staunton, I had to stop you to tell you that you were very impressive back there. You're the first person to successfully challenge a laser gun fine." "Th-th-th-ank y-y-you." My knees had turned to jelly and my tongue to mush. With a superhuman effort I managed to stammer out, "Lunch, free are you?" "Yes, I think I will, thank you. I'll be right back." She slipped back into the courtroom only to emerge a couple of minutes later with a bag over her shoulder. "By the way, I'm Emily Browning, and I don't know your first name." "Sorry, it's Timothy, Tim for short." We were a study in contrasts, she was exquisitely dressed in a dark pinstriped and well tailored suit with a white blouse that was buttoned down the front. She wore black stockings and black patent leather shoes with a three inch heel that brought her up to something like my height. I on the other hand wore a crumpled dark grey suit that was shiny where my bum sat on enumerable chairs, my shirt was blue and where it could be seen, ironed, I didn't intend to take off my coat in public. There were three creases on my trousers running almost parallel to each other leading down to my shoes that I bought months ago and had yet to be introduced to boot polish. Her hair was pulled back in a French roll and there was a black plastic clip holding it all together. My hair looked the same as it had done yesterday because I haven't brushed it since yesterday. Her makeup looked as if it had been applied by a professional makeup Artiste, while my face was dominated by a two day old beard. She allowed me to lead her to a café that I frequented infrequently but which I knew served good food. So it was that the Odd Couple were seated at the rear of the City Centre Café (Open 5 days, 9:00am to 5:00pm.) picking our way through a large calamari with fresh garden salad and washed down with a cup of coffee that was accompanied by a slice of homemade baked cheesecake. "Do you catch that train every day?" She asked shortly after swallowing a mouthful of food. "Yes, I guess that I'm a creature of habit when it comes to work. I like to be in my office early so that I can relax and prepare myself for the day ahead. There's nothing worse than having to rush for your first appointment, it puts you behind the eight ball for the rest of the day." I was prattling to hide my nervousness. "I thought that I noticed you since I started catching that train about three weeks ago. I've just moved back in with my parents, temporarily until I get back on my feet." "I saw you going into an office down the hall from mine this morning, you don't work there do you?" "No. As you may have gathered, I work for the DPP's office. I just had to call in on my way to work to pick up some paperwork to do with my divorce." There was a note of sadness in her voice and she seemed to lose a little of her self confidence. "You can't be getting a divorce, you're not even old enough to be married, surely." "Aren't you sweet. I'm twenty-five and I was married for three years, it ended a little over a year ago." "And who is this absolute idiot who doesn't want to stay married to you?" "You're good you know. You are on a fishing expedition, trying to find out all the gory details about the end of my marriage. Well it is pretty boring and mundane really. We were married too young, too immature, and neither of us were really ready for the responsibility of cohabitation. So he left me and he's moved on. I stayed in our apartment for a while but then I found that I couldn't shake his memory completely, so I sold the place and moved back home. The paperwork is part of the property settlement." "And have you moved on?" "If you mean do I have a boyfriend, or have I rejoined the social circuit of predatory single females looking to sink their talons into some poor unsuspecting male, no. And you, is there a Mrs Brilliant Solicitor lurking in the background?" "Good Lord, no! I mean, who'd have me?" I was shamelessly fishing for compliments here. "You want me to tell you that I'm flabbergasted that no-one has succumbed to your sophisticated charm, your boyish good looks and your obvious intelligence and is prepared to overlook the minor faults such as your grooming and the fact that you are wearing the same clothes that you wore yesterday, and the day before, you see I did notice you. Well I'm not going to tell you that." "Changing the subject, why on earth are you working for the DPP? I would have thought that a young, drop dead gorgeous, talented and have I mentioned sophisticated, Solicitor such yourself would have had thousands of offers from randy Senior Partners of the top Law Practices offering you a job." "You can blame my father for that. He is one of those randy Senior Partners of whom you speak, and he has decided that, before I can join his firm I have to do the hard yards, to cut my teeth in the real world, to experience the cut and thrust of the grass roots legal world. So I have to work for at least a year with the DPP to gain experience of the prosecution side of criminal law. Today I was observing traffic matters as part of that process." "What did you learn?" "I learned that I shouldn't assume that all police are honest. I learned that a good Prosecutor should look at all aspects of a case to try and predict the defence strategy, and if possible establish a case to negate that strategy. I also learned a few tricks about presenting a case before a Magistrate that is different to that where there is a jury. I liked the way that you stopped short of accusing the good Sergeant of dodgy practices in a way that made it perfectly clear to the Magistrate that it is exactly what he had been doing." "One does learn the tricks of the trade when you have been at as long as I have." "Oh, and how many thousand years have you been at it?" "A little over a year, but then I'm a fast learner. Tell me, are you absolutely certain that you want to work for your father?" "What do you have in mind?" "I thought that you might be interested in what I do for a crust. I must warn you that if your motivation to practice law is to make a fortune mine is not the side of law to get into. How would you like to sit in on some of my cases, to observe life at the other end of the legal spectrum?" "If what I saw today isn't your bread and butter, what is?" "There's a minefield of white collar crime, where unscrupulous businesses rip off the little man, where multi national corporations run roughshod over their much smaller business rivals, even where government is not doing the right thing by it's constituents. I usually don't make much more than standard fees unless we win and get costs." "I'd like that. I'll see if I can swing some leave, with pay of course. Give me your card and I'll call you when I have it sorted, actually better yet, why don't I drop by your office later and we can discuss this and maybe after that you can take me to dinner?" "Is that a date?" "I believe it is." We finished our meal and, as we parted outside the Café she took my hand and kissed me. "See ya Timfashort." And she was gone. What a head-spin. I couldn't get cloud nine to work so I had to walk back to my office. I have never had an afternoon that went by so slowly. Ten hours after I left her at 1:00pm the clock on my wall had only just clicked over to 5:00pm and, instead of the usual clamour of people rushing from their desks to get home or to the bar or wherever it was that people rushed to at this time, there was a deathly hush, except, in the distance and getting closer, was the sound of footsteps muffled by the carpet. As she passed each cubicle there was an audible exhalation and the sound of someone getting up and peering at the back of Emily. Each person's brain clicked into gear and the same questions were asked; 'Who the fuck is that and who is the lucky bastard she is going to see. It is a long walk to my tiny cubby hole of a cubicle and Emily was taking her time, savouring the attention she was getting. With each step my standing among the predominately male heterosexual population of the offices of Smythe, Branch and Branch, Barristers and Solicitors, rose dramatically to dizzying heights. Whereas my position was largely regarded as the person least likely to attract the attention of a member of the opposite sex apart from my mother, I could see that being elevated to a position close to that of the younger Branch, who was regarded by everyone as the major cocksman of the firm. One Fleeting Glance I stood at the entrance to my cubicle and waited for her to reach me, her smile preceded her by several seconds and her look told me to expect the unexpected. As she reached me she threw her arms around my neck and pulled my face to hers in a passionate embrace that had the testosterone level of the watchers reaching dangerous levels. She withdrew her face a couple of centimetres and, with a mischievous look, she said to me in a voice that had all the sexual overtones and undertones and all tones in between, of a seasoned seductress, "Hi Lover, did you miss me?" This question was delivered just loud enough for the nearest couple of staff members to hear. "Is the Pope a Catholic? I am a normal warm blooded male and you think I didn't miss you?" I gave her a look not far different from the one that she had given me, "It was all I could do not to go to the gents and jerk off every half hour, it was every hour." The look again, "I hope you saved enough of him for tonight?" "Fucking Hell!" The exclamation came from several cubicles down and was followed by the sound of the exclaimer making a mad dash for the gents. "We'd better sit down before the whole lot of them begin jerking off in their cubicles. Would you like a cup of coffee? I can actually make a decent cup of instant coffee." "Well..." She was just about to decline. "Actually we have a very good espresso machine and I'm qualified to drive it, so what would you like?" She caught on quickly, I wanted to go to the lunch room so that I could bask in my newfound, and Emily provided, glory. Like the wonderful person that she is, she provided that opportunity. "A flat white will be fine, thank you." Simple words delivered as if she was ordering a three course meal in a posh restaurant. I was the centre of considerable attention, and it had all the dignity of an outside court press conference during a scandalous trial, and like one of those media melees, I simply held up my hand and uttered the famous words, 'No comment.' I gathered up the coffee cups and headed for my cubicle. As I sat down Emily smiled at me, "I just had to tell Twig to go fuck himself." I was shocked to hear that word coming from so proper a mouth, there was more to Emily than her outer layer indicated. "Twig?" "You know, the little Branch, he had decided on a flanking manoeuvre while you were getting the coffees, so I put him in his place." She took a sip of her coffee, "Hey this isn't bad." "You act surprised." I sipped mine and had to agree with her, it wasn't bad, even for me. "I hope that this bunch of sex starved animals hasn't turned you off my suggestion." "It'd take more than them to do that, I'm actually quite looking forward to it." "Great! I've decided that it's too late in the day to look at any of my cases, so I thought that we should give the guys another thrill and get us something to eat." "Just what did you have in mind?" "If we were to walk out of here looking for all the world like we are very close friends..." "Like this?" She stood up and tucked herself under my arm, draped it over her shoulder and put her arm around my waist. In step we left. We left behind us a whole bunch of envious workmates, not the least of which was the aforementioned 'Twig'. We caught my usual train and got off at my usual station. I rescued my car from the station car park, she seemed impressed that I wasn't driving some status symbol sports car, what she didn't realise that the not quite geriatric SAAB 9000 Turbo can still keep up with many cars much younger than itself. "Which 5 Star restaurant are you taking me too?" "Chez Staunton, I hear the food there is quite good." "I've never heard of it, what type of cuisine is it?" "It's an unusual place where the cuisine is as the customer desires. If you want an Aussie barbeque, that's what you'll get. If you want Asian they serve a range of dishes from Chinese to Thai, to Malaysian and Indian curries. Or maybe you'd like Italian or French, if there's enough notice a Moroccan Tagine isn't out of the question, but it doesn't go much for English, too boring they say. The wine list is extensive and good." I opened my front door and ushered her inside, the place was, as I knew it would be because I paid my cleaner well, scrupulously tidy. I took her coat and hung it on the hallstand with mine. We walked into the Living Room and I pushed the button to crank up the stereo and the room was soon filled with Classical music. "I am constantly amazed by you, you give the impression of someone who does things his own way and doesn't care much about what others think, and there is a total other side to you. I would have taken you for the Rock & Roll type and here we are listening to Holst's 'The Planets'." "I have eclectic tastes in music, pretty much everything from classical to Jazz, to Blues, to Rock, although I do draw the line at listening to some nasally much married female Country & Western star singing 'Stand by your man'." I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer and stared at the range of frozen meals. "What would you like?" Emily stood beside me and stared at the array of food on offer. "Surprise me." I shut the freezer and opened the refrigerator and started taking ingredients from it. I soon had the ingredients ready and took a Wok from its hook over the hotplate. In minutes I was stirring and tossing the diced chicken breast and the vegetables and spices, the aroma of a Thai dish wafted around the room. Emily looked at the plate when I set it in front of her, "I am surprised," she took a forkful and placed it in her mouth, "really surprised. When you stood there looking at the contents of a fully stacked freezer I thought the worst, and then, with the minimum of fuss, you throw together this beautiful meal. Is there no end to your talents?" "What you saw in the freezer is my stock of goodies for when I'm on my own, it's a pain cooking for one, and I always end up cooking too much which means I end up eating too much. But as soon as you suggested dinner, I took a chance and sometime during the 12 hours between 1:00pm and 5:00pm I rang my cleaner and she slipped out and bought the ingredients for a couple of easy meals. The rest was up to me." "You are truly a man of many talents, where will it end?" "Where would you like it to end?" She had served, I had returned service, would her next shot be a 'put away volley' or would she choose to rally from the baseline? "Let us see where the mood and the night leads. I'm not pre-empting any outcome here." Fair enough. I cleared the plates off the table and quickly threw together a plate of cheeses and other nibbly things to go with the coffee and Cointreau. We sat side by side on the sofa enjoying the closeness with each other and the way the music, my favourite mood CD of various Adagios, seemed to wrap us in it's soothing embrace. Bliss. Emily's head rested on my shoulder, her body leant against mine and her hand rested on my thigh. Double bliss. I moved my arm and rested it across the top of the sofa with my hand draped over her shoulder. "Mmmm. This is nice" She whispered to my left nipple. I pulled her closer. In minutes her breathing told me that she was asleep. I sat there until the CD had finished. For a while I debated whether to pick up the remote and start it playing again, but then I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost 11:00. Gently, I shook her awake. "Much as I would love to sit here with you like this all night, it isn't all that comfortable for either of us." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, "What time is it?" I told her, "I'm sorry." "For what?" "Going to sleep like that." "Don't be sorry, truth be known I quite enjoyed sitting here with your head on my shoulder and you hand on my thigh, gave me all sorts of ideas it did." "Did I enjoy them?" "Very much so, although not as much as I did." "I don't suppose one of them involved me sharing your bed?" "No, they all did." "Never let it be said that I dashed your dreams." She stood up and grabbed my hand. "Which way?" I led her to my bedroom, "I need a shower before I go to bed," I said, "if you want one you can go first." I showed her where everything was and left her to shower while I pulled the bed covers down and put one of my shirts out for her to wear. I was on the toilet when she finished her shower, and when I finished mine she was in bed with the covers drawn up to her chin. I noticed that the shirt that I'd left out for her was still on top of the covers. Very interesting. I scrambled in beside her but before I could relive my dreams she rolled over so that she was facing me and her body was half on top of me. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight." 'Shit, bugger, bum and far out.' I thought. "We are going to sleep, side by side, stark naked, I'll allow you to hug me, but no fondling any part of me that is at all sexual. If you can survive that, then I'll be only too happy to work with you, because you will have proven to me that you can be close to me without me having to worry about you jumping my bones. A deal?" "A deal. But don't expect me to be overjoyed with having to lie here, in my bed, naked, with the most beautiful woman I have ever met, also as it happens, naked, and not be able to take said most beautiful woman in my arms and make mad passionate love to her. Stronger men than I have given in to such a temptation." "Don't you think that I am having the same temptation? If we achieve this tonight it will prove that we are strong and focused, and that we are setting high standards of behaviour that will make our working lives so much better. I have witnessed men, who I have admired and held up as role models, who, at the first sign of a good looking woman, have a quantum shift in focus and lost the plot, work wise. I include my own father in this." The time up until I eventually dropped off to sleep was spent thinking about the most disgusting, revolting, embarrassing experiences that I have ever endured, and there was an unlimited supply of these, to keep my mind focused away from Emily, beautiful Emily, intelligent Emily, funny Emily, sophisticated Emily, oh and did I mention beautiful Emily? Waking up on a Saturday morning, my first thought is usually, 'Great I don't have to get out of bed until at least 9:00'. But this Saturday morning my first thought was, 'There is a beautiful woman named Emily in my bed with me, she is lying with her back to me and my arms are around her. She has been there all night and I haven't made love to her.' With a movement, which I swear, your honour, was totally involuntary, I drew her closer to me. "Good morning my wonderful man." She turned in my arms and put her arms around my neck and kissed me. "No fair! How am I supposed to resist temptation when you do that to me?" "That was last night, this is this morning," One of her hands disappeared under the bed clothes and grabbed my cock. He stood to attention. "Me woman, you man, you fuck me." "Yes Ma'am, your wish is my command." I have a confession to make Dear Reader, and that is, that, for various reasons connected with study, work, lack of opportunity to list a few, I have not had a lot of experience in the matter of sexual intercourse. I have however, read many books on the subject, and watched several porn movies, all in the course of my work I'll have you know, so I believe that I have the technical knowledge to comply with Emily's wishes. I was, however, to all intents and purposes, a V, a V, a V, a Virgin. From the second that I massaged her breasts Emily, wonderful Emily, recognised that I was lacking in practical experience at sex, so she took it upon herself to guide me through the differences between having sex and making love. She grabbed the hands that were mauling her breasts and gently lifted them so that they were just touching her. Did I tell you that I was a fast learner? When I first began to maul her breasts, her nipples remained almost flat, but as soon as I began to, under her tutelage, caress them, her nipples grew in size along with her sighs of pleasure. After some time she took one of my hands and placed it between her legs and pushed one finger into her moist hot pussy. I got the message and began to push my finger in and out of her, increasing her pleasure, and mine. There was one thing that did bother me, in the movies that I've seen, the woman is usually quite vocal, and in many cases, when she has an orgasm, she actually screams. But in Emily's case her body was doing most of the talking, her hips were moving back and forth with my finger strokes and soft, whisper like whimpers were coming from her lips, until her hips began to jerk most alarmingly and she sobbed, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh God, oh God, oh God!" Then she was quiet, her hips sagged back on the bed and, with a long exhalation of breath she lay still. "I have waited so long for that." She had spread her legs wide and now she urged me over on top of her and guided my cock inside her. Now here again there was a deviation from the videos that I had seen. I found my own rhythm, and this was much different from the rapid pumping that I had seen on the screen, it was slow, it was gentle and it was, not to put too fine a point on it, perfect both for myself and Emily. I rationalised later that if I had pumped harder, as I had seen in the videos, I would have come much too soon, before Emily. As it was I came at the same time as her second orgasm which pleased her immensely, but don't just take my word for it, over to you Emily. "Do you know what Timfashort? I have never in my entire life been made love to as well as I have this morning. Neither my husband, nor any of the not all that many lovers that I've had, could have made love as perfectly as you have just now." "I can honestly say that I've never had anything so great either." "I know that. This was your first real sex wasn't it?" "Was it that obvious?" "Yes. But I give you credit for one thing, you do learn quickly. But before you get a big head, more practice is in order, much more." Sometime during the course of the day I tried to recall when, except for the few times when I was close to death from a cold or the flu, I had actually stayed in bed an entire day, I couldn't think of an occasion, certainly not one like this. I learnt many different ways of giving Emily pleasure, and she in many, many, ways gave me pleasure. I was rapidly falling in love with this woman that I had loved from afar for such a short time. Late on Sunday afternoon, after a marathon thirty hours of making love and sleeping, I turned to the Love Goddess stretched out beside me in my bed, "I hate to say this but, there are a couple of things that are bothering me. The first is that unless we get something to eat we will never be able to keep up our stamina and will probably waste away to a shadow and ultimately die. And secondly, in approximately sixteen hours we have to get out of bed and go to work. The immediate question is, do we go out to eat or throw together something from what is in the house, a frozen meal or something?" "Mmmmm," I had to strain to hear her "I could live forever on love alone. But," Suddenly she was alert, "you are right, my ever practical darling man, we need sustenance and I suggest that we get someone else to do all the hard work. How would you like to have dinner at my place, you can meet the Olds." "Don't you think it's a bit soon for that?" I knew as soon as the words had passed through the gap in my face called a mouth that they could be taken two ways, both potentially wrong, so I added an addendum quickly to clear up any confusion. "What will your parents think when you, who have only just moved back into home with them after a disastrous marriage, and who they haven't seen since Friday morning, suddenly comes home with a scruff like me in tow? Don't you think that we should ease them into this?" "I am old enough to make my own decisions, and I have made mine." While she spoke she had turned on her phone and was reading through her messages, all from Mother and all saying the same thing 'Where are you? Please call.' The final one, sent not ten minutes ago, had a note of desperation about it because it added that if she hadn't heard soon she would be forced to call the Police. Emily called her mother, "Hi Mother, it's me." (Pause to listen.) "I'm fine, never better in fact." (Further pause.) "Yes I'm sorry if I caused you concern."(Pause yet again.) "Mother, I have met the most wonderful man." (Another pause.) "Mother, you will have to reserve your judgement until you meet him." (Pause.) "Yes I have invited him to dinner this evening, we'll be home in about an hour. See you Mother, by the way his name is Timothy." We showered, together, until the hot water ran out, and after a long search, found suitable clothes for me to wear to the meet the parents thing. I fired up my 'get me to and from the railway station only' car and we headed for her, my God this is impressive, home, with its curved gravel driveway leading up to the two storey stone mansion with a covered portico out front. The trusty steed came to a halt out front seconds before the front door opened and an older version of my beautiful Emily emerged. There was much hugging between Emily and her parents and polite, cautious, bordering on suspicious, handshakes between myself and the same parents. We all went inside and, while Emily and her mother went off to prepare the meal and talk girl talk, I was left under the surly gaze of the famous Barrister, Nigel Browning. "Would you like something to drink, I have an excellent single malt?" "No, thank you." I had to keep my wits about me. "But feel free." He felt free, pouring himself a liberal glass which he placed under his nose and sniffed with a look of pure bliss on his face. "We know your first name is Timothy, I presume you have a Surname?" "It's Staunton Sir, and so that we don't have to go through a cross examination, I'm a Solicitor, and I work for Smythe, Branch and Branch." "And how did you meet my daughter?" "We were in court together, actually not together, I was defending a client in a case that she was sitting in on, and she congratulated me on getting my client off a speeding fine. That is where it all began." I didn't tell him that I'd been perving on his daughter for three weeks trying to build up the courage to approach her. "And you've been together since then?" "Yes, I suggested that she could broaden her legal education by sitting in on some of the work that I'm involved in, we had dinner together Friday night to discuss it and here we are." "Where is here?" "Emily is coming to work with me for a short time, and we'll see what develops from there." "The very fact that she has spent the weekend with you suggests that this relationship is not entirely professional." "We had to test to see if we could work together without letting our personal feelings for each other intrude into our professional lives. You'll be pleased to know that it can." I wasn't going to let him know that I had been fucking his daughter since Saturday morning. Further cross examination was curtailed by the call to dinner. It was obvious from the tenor of the dinner conversation, that Emily and her mother, Siannaed, had discussed our relationship and had agreed that it was a good thing, because, every time there was a pointed question asked, Siannaed would jump to our defence. She is going to make a great mother. I left at 11:00, with polite handshakes from Nigel, a peck on the cheek and a 'come again soon', from Siannaed, and a full on kiss and a 'see you in the morning, my love', from Emily. I arrived at the station around three minutes before my train to find Emily already there, she greeted me with an enthusiasm that had half the male population looking for ways to eliminate me. We were oblivious to the stares. We were oblivious to the stares on the train. We were oblivious to the stares as we walked into my cubicle. One Fleeting Glance I had a quick telephone conference with Smythe, who I knew would support Emily being here, especially after I pointed out that it was costing him nothing in wages. His approval did however have one stipulation, and that was that she was there to observe and that she would take no active part in any trial matters. We had been going through several relatively mundane cases when 'Twig' dropped a large file on my desk. "What is this?" "A case I have been working on, I want you to take it over." "This means that he has stuffed it up." I told Emily after he had left. We looked at the file. It was a case where a small independent motor cycle spare parts dealership had been prosecuted for selling illegally recycled parts. The Twig had defended him unsuccessfully, and the matter was now the subject of an appeal. I was to conduct the appeal. On reading the evidence I began to detect a decidedly piscatorial aroma to this case. "Let's go and have a chat to this man." We left and not long later we were seated in the office of the dealership talking to Bob Benson, who defied the stereotype of anyone with any connection with motorcycles. He was small in all senses of the word which explained the photographs and trophies on his wall from his career racing Grand Prix and Superbikes. He professed a dislike for Hogs. "How did you get involved in all of this?" "I was approached by a lawyer, representing certain motorcycling organisations, with a proposition that involved the sale of second hand parts and re-birthed bikes, usually Harley Davidsons. I wanted nothing to do with it, and when I asked around I found that this would have been a front for the laundering of drug money. I also found out that the lawyer in question was referred to around the traps as the 'Laundromat' for obvious reasons." "A couple of weeks after this visit a courier arrived with a crate of parts that I hadn't ordered, and while I was trying to find out where it had come from, the law arrived in force and I was arrested and charged with dealing in stolen property. I contacted my usual Solicitor who was unable to help due to a back-log of work, and he put me on to your firm. To say that the Solicitor who handled the case was inept would be to understate the situation." "That would be the young Branch of the firm?" "Yes. He accepted the police evidence and urged that I should try and cut a deal. But that would mean that I would be convicted of a felony that I didn't commit and I wasn't about to do that. During the trial he didn't challenge the evidence, and I was found guilty. I insisted on an appeal and now I have you. Tell me, can you help me clear my name?" "Yes I can." I was confident that I could and this was reflected in my answer. "Believe me, I have seen him in operation, and if anyone can, he can." Emily was just as confident. Bob sat back in his chair and the look of relief on his face was evident. "There are some big players involved in this." I said to Emily as we drove away. "The amount of money that these gangs need to launder would be in the millions of dollars each year, and the search for legitimate businesses that can be used is never-ending. We need to back track and find the origins of those parts and that may lead us to those involved at the top level. I don't expect help from the police, they had obviously been tipped off about the parts." It took some time and Emily's obvious charms, but we got our information, and this led us to the 'Laundromat', and here was where the huge surprise was, the 'Laundromat' was Nigel Browning. "That explains everything." Emily said "Several weeks ago my father transferred a whole bunch of company assets into my mother's and my names. When we asked him about this he fobbed us off. I saw a file in the DPP's office that was in connection with the case we're working on and there was an oblique reference to my father's law firm being involved. Mother and I sat down and worked out a strategy to get to the bottom of this. And this is where you came in." "It was no accident that I was in the same court as you on Friday. I had to check you out to see if you were competent to help us. You passed with flying colours. We knew from our dealings with Smythe, Branch and Branch, that the Twig had been told to lose the case as a warning to others who wouldn't co-operate. If the Twig hadn't given you this file that morning we would have encouraged you to ask for it." "My job was to get close to you so that we could use you to carry out the investigation that we were unable to." I was just about to feel hurt by this information. "The upside of all of this is that, in getting close to you I not only came to believe that you were the right person for this job, but I fell in love, totally, madly, in love with you. Mother and I discussed everything that night at home while you and Father were talking, and she agrees with me that you are the right person for the job, and, more importantly, the right man for me." To reinforce this message she kissed me in a way that sealed our love. "So what happens now?" "This afternoon the shit is going to hit the fan, big time, and I am going to have to be home with Mother to support her. I want, she wants, you to be there with us." Siannaed turned off the TV half way through the Late News. "That's it then, your father has been refused bail and is on remand, although he will leave no stone unturned in order to gain release. But I'm not even going to think about that, I'm going to get some sleep and, in the morning you can drive me to the airport, I'm going on holidays and I'm going to spend a substantial amount of his money in the process. As for tonight, I have had the double bed in the guest bedroom made up, and I hope that the two of you can put it to good use." "Mother!" "Shush girl. It is obvious that the two of you have been having sex and it's far too cramped in your single bed. I'm not even going to tell you to be careful, because I know that you'll do the right thing and get married before my grandchild makes an appearance. Good night." She left us. We made love, we made love often, we made love in every conceivable position, and it was bliss. I kissed her when we got into the bed and I held her close before beginning an exploration of her magnificent body, every nook and cranny received my complete and undivided attention, I straddled her with my head between her legs and my tongue exploring her pussy, her clit, until she had her first orgasm. While I was doing this she had my cock in her mouth and was lavishing so much attention on it that I was in danger of coming in her mouth when she came. I pulled him out and we changed positions. I knelt between her legs and inserted him into her hot, wet pussy. Because of this he slid in easily, and I had no trouble getting him in all the way. I slowly moved him in and out of her. I lost all track of time before I heard her whisper, "Oh my God I'm going to come!" Every part of her body that could clench me to her, her arms, her legs, her pussy, clenched me tightly and held me there until she began to come down, and then she released me to continue my fucking until her second coming, which coincided with my first. The feel of her flooding juices and my semen mixed together inside her was amazing. "Keep him in, down pull out, I want to give your sperm every chance of getting to my egg." By all the laws of probability, our daughter Siannaed was conceived in that bed on that night. We don't take her to see her grandfather in jail, she'll be a teenager before he gets out, but we do take her to see her grandmother in her new house on the beach as often as we can. I have my own Law Practice and Emily is an active partner in it, we are doing well and are married and still very much in love. Who would have thought this all started with one fleeting glance?