0 comments/ 21187 views/ 1 favorites Passing The Laws By: brunorivera Initial arguments: Let's say that I am called Alexandra. I am a gorgeous young woman, with round face and breasts. People tell me that my body should be in calendars or pin-ups in which the girls wear bikinis or even fewer clothes. But my parents insisted that my older brother and I should pursue dignified or lucrative careers, so I followed my father's footsteps, as a lawyer. My mother was a typical high-society lady, elegant and dignified; after having started a career in high-fashion modeling, she retired in order to raise us. She even enrolled both children in modeling classes, but not so that we make a career of it, but for our personal improvement. My brother, Edwin, was always a little rebellious, but he was not really a bad person, only a misfit. He was handsome and well-built, capable of attracting any girl, even myself. But since he did not know what he wanted his future to be, he didn't maintain relationships for much time outside of the family environment. Midway into his career, we began noticing a drop in his grades and he considered transferring to a community college in order to be an automotive mechanic, since he did have a talent for repairing mechanical malfunctions to our fleet and to some of his friends, especially his girlfriends, he even wanted to be a race car driver. I began to talk to him, and he told me: "Our father will never accept that I am less than a lawyer, engineer or doctor. But I was not made for that life." I answered him: "Anything that you could be is fine by me, as long as you do it well and with your heart." "That is in fact my problem: I don't have much heart to battle so much. I can't please so many people who expect more and more of me. They are driving me crazy!" I even began to plan how we would hide his change of profession, at least, until he settles down. But my father turned out to be a great detective and he discovered us quickly. He even recriminated me for not warning him about Edwin's plans. But we stood our ground over our parents, on the condition that I didn't drop my studies, and I assured them that for me, that was not going to be a problem. But our parents grew impatient and made his life miserable, even when he completed his computerized auto diagnosis course, and that induced him to get drunk and stay out all night in parties and discos. I, for my part, stayed in the university dormitory, but my parents only allowed me to spend the night there for final exams and long study sessions or big projects. Once, very late in the night, he called me to my cell phone. At least, it didn't wake up my roommate, since I must set it for vibration only. It sounded like a very bad connection. At least, I could understand that he spent that night drinking and racing his car, one old and battered in which he invested much of his time and special talent, and enough money from Dad, turning it into an impressive hot rod. "I'm going over..." Or at least, that's what I seemed to hear, but he was barely within the radius of coverage of the provider. A call to a certain radio triangulation service which my father uses in order to locate people, such as us, could only tell me that he drove through a very tortuous rural road. I became anxious and I called some of my brother's buddies. Almost all answered me in the evasive, but one in particular, Samuel, with whom I had a brief courtship and some sexual experience, although I was still technically a virgin, informed me that they really competed in illegal races, but they became separated after a false alarm of a police raid. But the improvised strip that they use lies in the same route toward my college, because I know that some students from here also race there. I despaired and I got in my small car, to see if I could reach him. After approximately ten minutes on the road, I noticed tire marks which led to a cliff, but first went through some trees and boulders before falling off. I looked down carefully, because that cliff gave me vertigo, and I was able to see something burning. I could even hear a faint voice, but the noise of the fire didn't allow me to listen to it clearly. Soon that voice could no longer be heard and the fire also died and I called my brother's number, but now, that unit was not activated. Now what I felt a mixture of panic with uncertainty and I called the police and an ambulance. The firemen also came, but they only found ashes. The charred body was unrecognizable and DNA tests were necessary, if only to determine that the dead person was our relative. But even so, there was no doubt: the one who died in that accident was my brother, whose causes will never know for sure. The incident marked us deeply, and it obviously had a worse effect on my mother, and to a lesser degree, on my father, who cursed his own son for being irresponsible. The effect in me was only psychological, since we were mutual accomplices. My mother became sick with cancer due to the suffering, but my father faked being strong and resorted to blame it on Edwin and he even urged my mother to make believe that she never had a male child so that she overcome her grief and the treatment could be more effective. But she didn't resist and died in less than a year. My father quit his profession, and he even began to drink and go out with women, many were models, almost as young as I, and others were widows and/or divorced ladies, friends of my mother, who offered him some comfort through sex. But that lifestyle took a toll on my father's health, and he died from a heart attack a few days before I graduated. I was alone, with a considerable inheritance, although with certain debts that the circumstances had forced us to postpone, and more important, a promising career. An older lawyer, a friend of my father, specialist in inheritance and tax law, helped me to liquidate all the bills without either my credit or our good name being harmed, and upon passing my bar examination, he hired me as a practitioner. I might not need an employment in order to live, but I had a commitment of honor to acquire experience in my new profession, and I would have never endured the life of a lazy socialite. One of the draconian adjustments that I had to make was to dismiss the servitude, and as I didn't take advantage of privileges of a rich girl in my years as a student, I know how to maintain a home in order, even such an imposing mansion like the one which I inherited. I also took possession of a penthouse apartment downtown, from where I found it to be more convenient to go to work. Here my father, in his widowhood, and my brother before him, brought their respective conquests, and even I had a stealthy encounter with my boyfriend. Almost everything was oral sex, but both got too horny, and although we had condoms, I didn't want to lose my hymen, so we didn't have other choice than to take him in my anus. It hurt a little at first, but his penis was not so big and I could get used to it, since the condom was extra-lubricated. He began slowly, but as his orgasm approached, he pumped inside me with more force. I achieved an orgasm because Sam was considerate enough and he fingered my clitoris to take my attention away from my anal pain. I bled a little and he consoled me, by saying: "Don't you worry, Sandy, that virginity will come back." I didn't find it funny and I told him to leave so I could wash and soothe my sore arse. I believe that we broke up our relationship for that reason, but I still relied on him, so he could keep an eye on my brother when he got in trouble. It was some sort of friendly blackmail. I banished those memories from my mind in order to dedicate myself fully to my adulthood. Exhibit A: At the office, there were five employees: The boss, a former-colleague of my Dad, a couple of young male lawyers, a secretary and paralegal, whose face seemed peculiar, and finally, yours truly. Most of our cases didn't seem to be of any consequence, in spite of the effort required in preparation and research, since they only had to do with properties or government permits and they were neither criminal cases nor life-and-death lawsuits. But Charles, the more handsome of the two males, yearned to make this a great firm, and the boss began assigning him cases with high risk and remuneration. His ambition seemed to go at the same level with his great attractiveness and I fell in love with him, because I admired him a lot. He was what my father and my brother, in his own way, always were: brave in the face of the trials that life puts in our path. I even felt that I could channel my almost incestuous love through him. So I made a pass at him, after a day in which our workload diminished. He, naturally, felt flattered and he asked me: "What will you do tonight?" "Not much. Perhaps, I will relax in my Jacuzzi and sip a glass of wine." He didn't reply with words, but I noticed that a bulge formed inside his pants and realized that his penis must be big, at least, nine inches (22 centimeters). I was frightened, but my nipples were erect, encouraging me to take him, at least, into my mouth, and the wetness that I began to feel in my vagina forced me to decide: now or never. While taking the elevator down, I moved toward him. I did not speak, but the heat that emanated from both of our bodies hypnotized and drew us together, wanting to embrace. He took the initiative and he made contact with me. I am a little tall, with 5 feet 7 inches, or 1.7 meters, but he stands more than six feet, almost two meters. He hugged me and almost kissed me, until the door opened up at the ground floor. I had him ride in my favorite car, a sporty European that, although my brother didn't consider it to be much, he always respected its performance. If I were not been able to attract him with my sculptural body, the car had him eating out of my hand. We took oriental food, more like hors d'oeuvres than an actual meal, and he tossed a bag in his briefcase that he bought in a convenience store at the gas station where I stopped to refuel this road hog. Upon arriving at my apartment, we did begin to kiss, sharing our tongues without further ado. We tasted the food and I went to prepare the Jacuzzi. He ate enough, but left something so that I could finish and asked: "Where is that wine of which you spoke?" "I don't have any. Oh, well: I lied. It's just that I don't like to drink..." "Good for you. We will toast with something else tonight." I asked him mischievously: "What are we celebrating?" "I don't know. Us, or even better, the relief of our responsibilities at the office. By the way, did you also lie about the Jacuzzi?" "No, my dear! Come inside and you will see it." I was already naked, so I got inside the small tub and the warm bubbling spouts concealed my private parts. He had to undress in front of me before jumping inside. His penis was enormous and impressive, and stuttering, I asked him: "How much do you measure?" "Relaxed, almost eight inches (20 cms.), and erect, more than ten and half (you do the math)." "Oh, God, in what mess I got myself!" So I thought, I didn't come to voice it. But he didn't give me time for second thoughts, because he kissed my mouth fiercely, forcing my tongue to participate. Then he trailed to my neck and he grabbed my left breast, nailing my nipple in the palm of his hand. I should have pulled his hand from my chest, but I was already crazy with desire and I was only able to draw his face again for another French kiss, and to moan inside his mouth. He lifted me a little so that my breasts floated over the surface. Then, he asked me: "And yours, how much do they measure?" Touché! But fair is fair and I replied to him: "My measurements are the classical 36-24-36, or 90-60-90 in metric; well, in fact, 34 or 35 of bust, but sometimes B or C, depending on my period." He said, in tone of flattery: "They don't have to be 38 (95 cms.), as much as mine doesn't have to be a full foot (30 for the friends of other parts of the world). They are beautiful!" "You are also beautiful!" "No, you are the most beautiful!" And he lowered his face to my nipples and alternated between them, enhancing a vibration on my genitalia that the jets of my Jacuzzi had started. He caressed me below while he entertained me up here. Then he tried to dive in order to lick my vulva but the movement of the water didn't allow him to hold his breath, so he lifted me as if I were a paper doll and he reclined me at the edge of the Jacuzzi so he could suckle my clitoris at his leisure. When I almost reached my orgasm already, he left the water and took a condom out of his bag that seemed made for horses and he put it on. Oh, oh! He is going to drill me with that thing. But I was already up to anything and encouraged him: "Come and get your penis deep inside me!" And so he did. As he slowly entered in my vagina, he accommodated my legs so that he could plunge very deeply without hurting me. I was surprised of being so elastic, because I didn't feel pain, but only much pleasure. I did not even felt my hymen breaking. The orgasm returned as if by magic, but he wasn't even starting. At first, he went slow, like fearing for my well-being, but I assured him that I was having a good time, by saying: "Come on, give me more. Dive into this shameless vagina." I even felt that he went through my cervix. Sometimes it hurt, but other times, my pleasure increased. Then, in the deep of my being, he woke up the legendary G-spot and I had the super-orgasm with more potent spurts that those from my whirlpool. So much commotion excited my boyfriend, who accelerated his lunges until he filled that condom with his own abundant and hot semen. Upon taking off the prophylactic rubber, I felt kinky curiosity and I asked him to savor the residual in him and some directly from his penis. Suckling him didn't allow it to lose the erection and he told me: "You know what? I want it to do it again." "Oh, good! I do too." "But now, I want you from behind." I got very scared, thinking of the burning that Sammy caused me previously, and I screamed at him beseechingly: "Oh, no! You are too big; you might even kill me!" "Please..." But I didn't give. I told him with an even tone of voice: "Look, we had a very good time, but we barely know each other. Allow me to savor this moment, since tomorrow we must go back to work and I will need to be able to sit down at my desk." He desisted and then replied: "You're right, I don't want to force you if you don't want to." "I promise you that the next weekend, when we don't have to go to the office, we will try it." We took a shower and he carried me to my master bed, and he even brought the leftover Chinese food, saying: "Have something to eat, so you can get your strength back. It is no small feat that you have had me completely inside you." But before he could compare me to the other girls that he should have had, I silenced him with a kiss, and I even shoved a mouthful of food in his throat with my tongue in order to choke him. He was able to spit it on my body, and I nagged him playfully: "Look at the mess that you have left on me. Now, you have to clean it! I don't want that to fall on the bed and stain the sheets." He picked up it with only his mouth, and he even chewed against my skin, giving me a small shiver, and upon swallowing, he washed the area of impact with his lips and tongue, commenting me: "You taste so good!" But he left my apartment that same dawn, to change into some clean clothes to go to work. Friday finally arrived, and after checking with the boss that there would not be any pending work, I decided that we would do it in my mansion. There we showered, we caressed each other and I even took him from the front in order to be more aroused. But the zero hour arrived. I cringed a little, but he encouraged me, by saying: "It's all right, I know that it might hurt a little at first. But I have something that will make it more bearable for you." We put on bathrobes and we went to the swimming pool area, and there, we prepared the outdoor Jacuzzi, somewhat bigger, but beyond the reach of most of the onlookers, only "paparazzi" on helicopters or with hidden cameras would see the action. We got undressed with a mixture of shyness and exhibitionism, and we entered to the water. Once inside, I accommodated myself in order to direct some spouts to my vulva and anus, and I even suckled on his penis so that he maintained an erection, because I was feeling more and more like a porn star. I let go of it soon so that he wouldn't waste his stamina too soon and I leaned on the edge, holding my rump above the water so that he would do with me whatever he wanted. He took out a tube of anal lubricant and reamed me with his fingers and he even used his glans so that I got used to the sensation. He spread more cream between both of us, and while I took a deep breath, he entered very slowly, while he asked me: "Are you all right?" "I? Yes, very well!" The pain was sharp, but delicious, as if I were holding back a tremendous urge to defecate. He explained to me: "That's it! Bear down as if defecating, so it will be easier and more pleasant." By doing as I was told, I loosened enough and he went in a little more. Expertly, he knew how to control his depth and he didn't tear me apart, but he pressed persistently to lodge himself comfortably in my rectum. When he stopped, I commented to him: "How delectable, almost as much as in the front, or even more! How much more is left out?" "Nothing! You have all of it inside!" I couldn't believe it, until the sensation of his testicles on my vulva confirmed the feat. He already wanted sensations and began again with a slow and condescending rhythm, but a contagious orgasm made him go faster. He grunted: "Take this, you slut! I never believed that could find such a good woman!" I went mad and responded with more obscenities of my own while we rode a wave of orgasms after another. When we could no longer take it, we went quiet and Charles relaxed and I was able to eject his member, already limp, and he almost sank in my pool to drown, because I did not have strength left to rescue his muscular body. He was able to drag himself to my side and he pulled the condom off, while he panted: "Sandra, you are marvelous!" I extended my arm on his stomach, and I felt the tip of his penis touching my forearm, and I replied: "You too!" This omened that we would be compatible and very happy. We turned off the Jacuzzi and we went inside, leaving the robes behind, to sleep in the nude, we always wanted to, but never had the chance. The next day, we fondled and we suckled each other in order to get aroused and then he penetrated me in the missionary position and we realized that his phallus was so big that he could get it through my anus from the front, and that inspired in us the illusion of making porn so much, that we spent most of the weekend practicing the trick of taking his penis out of my holes in order to squirt on my body, "the money shot"; at first, we rehearsed with the condom on in order to protect me if he didn't pull out on time. When we were able to get the timing right, we didn't have to use the preservative and he even had time to bring it to my face so I could swallow his semen. Charlie and I kept seeing each other, that means, he continued visiting me to put his penis in my vagina and in my anus, after suckling my nipples and clitoris generously and taking the traditional cautions, but we didn't live together. Sometimes, he invited me to his modest bachelor's apartment and there we acted out our exhibitionist fantasies. Exhibit B: One day, we took a special case, that would do justice to a poor family that would be able to identify a source of very solid revenue. Both parts argued vigorously, because we sued a great corporation that seemed to gobble up the whole world. Unfortunately, the court ruled against us, and Charles was going to file an appeal. But unexpectedly, the other law firm summoned us to their office and they proposed a deal: three quarters of a million of dollars now or some stock in certain subsidiary corporation that didn't look very solid, everything so we wouldn't appeal. It was Charles who insisted that we should accept the sure thing, the money, and our boss accepted it. I went into shock. But they insisted on killing my idealism, saying alternately: Passing The Laws "Girl, this was the best that we could get. It is in the best interest of the client. How long would that family survive without an income! This case is on a contingency basis and we have many others of which to take care..." We took all afternoon in order to convince the client to accept the offer, since our firm was going to get one third of the money, a quarter million, and before sundown, they settled on that amount of money. I no longer admired Charles, but I still loved him a lot, especially his attribute, and upon leaving the office, I commented to him: "Come, let's rest" (meaning: let's have sex again). "I'm sorry, I'll take a rain check. Neither do I feel good about myself and I want to be alone." I understood that I also needed time in order to digest my rude awakening into the real world and I let him go. But little by little, our encounters were more sporadic, since the mutual fascination for our almost perfect bodies had disappeared. A few weeks passed of this compromise, and upon meeting to discuss our current cases, Charles announced to us: "I have received a better job offer and I'm leaving...!" I asked concerned: "But, to where?" When they informed me that it would be the big firm was that represented that corporation, I was horrified, especially because I noticed that the boss, although he was annoyed, was not surprised at all. He explained, struggling to keep an even tone of voice: "Sandy, this was the only way in which we could save our client; we bent so that they wouldn't break us. Also, they recognized the great talent and integrity that Charles has." I murmured grumpily: "Integrity? Talent to sell out..." Charles looked at me embarrassed and the boss made me react, saying: "Alex!" I prefer to be called Sandra or Sandy and not Alexandra, much less, Alex, because that sounds as masculine. He continued: "Please..." I began to preach to them: "Raymond, my father would have never surrendered so easily...!" It would be the first time that I referred to my sponsor by his first name, whom I considered like an uncle while my parents lived, because he was always kind to me when I was a little girl and a teen, and now he almost adopted me as his daughter. "Your father is no longer with us, my child! Wake up to reality. Look, I have not wanted to mention this before, because you have been through a lot, but if you have fought admirably against all that happened to you before, now it is time to give in a little. Besides, your father did know how to do it without betraying his principles." I wanted to counter all of this, perhaps, even slap them for dishonoring the memory of my father, but I am aware of the fact that he was not a perfect man. Now he was passing the proverbial torch to me, and I stood down. Later, I found out that my former boyfriend got engaged with the daughter of one of the senior partners of that firm, and I felt like dying from jealousy and envy. But I had to get over it quickly, knowing that Charles made it clear that our relationship was over before leaving our firm. In silence, I forced myself to wish them happiness. Exhibit C: Charles' resignation disrupted a little the order of our small law firm, so it was necessary to work harder in order to solve the big cases, and get on to paper work, although the court delays didn't help us much. I had that I was going to occupy the office that he left, but I was surprised by the fact that Raymond gave it to Sheila, the secretary! For that reason, I found her to be so strangely familiar. Raymond announced that he promoted her because her true profession is attorney, feminist and expert in lost causes, like the one which we took and the one that motivated Charles to abandon us in search of greener pastures. But she was temporarily disbarred for pursuing a case which exasperated somebody very important, and my boss brought her in so she wouldn't stay unemployed or take other colleagues' mockery. One of us commented to her ironically: "At least you didn't have to practice during that terrible case, or else you would risk being disbarred forever." At first, she put an annoyed face, but she then took it with good humor. I imagine that they could not have subdued her like they did to me. I didn't feel the contempt that others would have toward a subordinate who gets promoted out of the blue, but the admiration toward a valiant woman, a role model with whom to build my character. The lack of a secretary didn't affect us so much, because the lawyers wrote a lot with our own hands, either on notepads or on computers. But being I the junior employee, they tended to treat me as one, although subtly, like requesting my help in order to edit business letters. In fact, I was taking dictation for my boss, while he paced around his private office in order to get inspired while I typed his letter in his computer. He passed near me, as if checking that I got it right, without mistakes and with the meaning that he wanted to give to it. Through the reflection on the screen, I realized that he really tried to peek at my firm breasts, and I asked him, in a joking tone: "Boss, when will you do the sexual harassment thing to me?" He stayed silent and he was even petrified, but after a while, he put his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him nonchalantly and his face was between pale and red, and their look was as if hypnotized. He withdrew his hand abruptly, but without me feeling it and he mumbled me an apology. I sighed, letting him know that it was all right and that I welcomed that caress. His body suppressed a tremor, due to the temptation with which he fought. But I stood up, and hugging him seductively, I told him: "Daddy, it's all right. Be my guest." He tried to say so many things, but I asked him provocatively: "Since when haven't you had a woman this close to you?" "As pretty as you, never." He either lied to avoid offending me, or perhaps, all the women previously in his life were ugly. I drew closer to him, pricking him with one of my nipples and looking for the heat that his groin produced, his heat-seeking missile. He murmured trembling: "We shouldn't..." I turned off the computer remotely with the mouse and I stated to him: "Nonsense: we should and we will do it!" We dismissed the personnel early and he closed the office hastily, while I clung to his back in order to kiss the nape of his neck, as if I were the male and he were the girl whom I was about to rape. Then I gave him a ride in my sports car and we traveled to my apartment. There I took him by the arm and I lay him upon the bed, and I undressed him as quickly as possible. My clothes disappeared almost by magic, while I kissed him so to bring on an erection soon and I could sheathe it. I sat down on his hips, I lined up his penis and I impaled myself on it. I could not do this with Charles, since his penis and my vagina could result seriously hurt, but a penis somewhat smaller, like six or eight inches, or between 15 or 20 cms., feels heavenly in the female superior position. My globes bounced in his face, compelling him to grab them and suck my nipples, that exacerbated my pleasure. My orgasms were multiple in short time, and upon contracting my vaginal wall, the mutual pleasure was explosive. The potent spurt that flooded the condom would have been able to propel me through the roof and I would have died happily, because it seems that my boss had not had woman for a long time, only had time for work. I began to descend from the cloud in which I floated in order to lie beside my new love, somebody whom I felt like an impossible crush in my childhood. I caressed him and I kissed him tenderly, and he reciprocated me, as he used to do before, but overcome by remorse, he wanted to get off the bed to get dressed and leave, and I held him next to me, soothing him with these words: "Don't worry, my great Raymond, because I always wanted you. We don't have anything for which to be sorry." He sighed amazed: "Since you were a little girl, I never imagined that I would have you like this, like a full-grown woman! You even have them big!" "Now, they are for you, I am all yours. It is not mere gratitude, it's that I love you!" "And I love you too!" He gave me a big soap-opera kiss, with more lips than tongue, and he fell asleep. If that had happened to me with any other guy, that would have bothered me, but I watched over him with fondness, I caressed him a little and I also fell asleep, at his side. With Raymond, I could share cultural activities, like going to museums or theater plays and operas. One day, he took the liberty of moving into my own house for some time, and he even kept some of his belongings in a shed of my mansion, in order to have his own house remodeled, which is old and he didn't have time before to make improvements to it; and I, pleased with having his penis for myself, old but good, and also, with being able to converse about exciting philosophical topics or exchange anecdotes of the family. We would have been able to reduce the rush at the office, if it weren't for Sheila, who wanted to ride her Quixotic defender steed again, and I visualized myself like her trusty sidekick. It was good for a while, since she gave us prestige within the community and I learned a lot from her. I even realized that the best arguments that were used in our ill-fated case were secretly written by her, so that we could use them before the court as our own, and I then recognized the same quiet strength that my own mother showed upon facing her demise. But it was not as if I fell in love with her, because I am not lesbian, although she is. Besides, I already had a mate. But one night, no matter how much we caressed and we kissed each other, he didn't achieve an erection. I went down on him and suckled his penis, but to no avail. However, sucking a limp penis is pleasant enough. I almost made him ejaculate, but I soon got tired of trying, and he went down on my vulva and gave me the relief that I desired. I didn't recriminate him, but I rather hugged him and I comforted him a little, whispering to his ear: "It's all right, my dear Ray. I still love you." I smack-kissed his cheek and we washed in order to go to sleep, because tomorrow would be a working day, so I attributed his erectile dysfunction to the stress to which we were subjected by the daily routine. Then there were days in which the boss was absent, or he was late to come to work, but he didn't arrive home late. But his impotence didn't improve, although he did achieved faint oral orgasms and his kisses to my teats, my vagina and even to my anus kept me satisfied. One day, I suggested to him: "Why don't we try Viagra?" "Because I can't." "But why? Have you seen a doctor?" "I have a heart condition, for which I am already on medication. Either Viagra or Cialis, or any another drug, would cause me a heart attack or a stroke. I'm sorry." Then, I tied the loose ends and I deducted that was why my father died. I replied him: "So am I. But don't you worry, we could continue like this, and eve if there is no sex, it doesn't matter. The important thing is that we are together." "Not any more. I am tired." "Then, rest, my love." "That's not what I mean. Don't you understand? It's over between us. I can't be by your side anymore. You need a real man..." "But if I already have one...!" "No, girl. In the long run, you will really want a hard penis, and I could give in to the temptation and buy one of those pills without a prescription, and that would be the end of me..." I protested like a spoiled brat: "No!" But he was right; the "chemistry" between us was no longer there. During the weekend, he got his house back, already fixed, and he hired a moving truck in order to take everything he had and to stay definitively there, and thus begin a life of celibacy. He was only my boss once again, a little my foster parent and maybe my friend, but nothing else. Exhibit D: Back to my daily life. My sexual life ceased completely, because I was not going to go out with any man out there, taking the risk of contracting AIDS or finding a pervert or an abusive man. Also, the candidates that remained in my firm didn't look good: the other youth, whom Charles outshone with his handsomeness, and the former secretary, a lesbian. How gross! Besides, she is also overweight. I tried with dildos, but I got tired of driving them inside me for so long, and I preferred small vibrators that I could wear under my panties, but I fell into the self-pity of not having a live body giving me those orgasms. So I buried my urges in my work, and I worked overtime or I took much work to my residences, because really, we are now fewer at the office. I even noticed the difference in performance and I was filled with satisfaction for not wasting my time in frivolous adventures in which there is no true love. Yet so, the physical and emotional dissatisfaction persisted, and the extra work made it worse. But upon feeling like a wage earner, I empathized with the people who depend on a meager job in order to live, and that gave me more mixed feelings, hopeful of getting another glorious case with which to redeem myself as a human being. The boss already showed signs of physical exhaustion, like all of us, but at his age, his problem was the worst. We recommended to him that he should retire to his home, and from there, he would serve us as an advisor, and at first, due to his pride and sense of duty, he insisted on coming to the office, although with a reduced schedule, but then it was very clear that he needed a prolonged leave. Upon retiring definitively, he made us the honor of rechristening the firm, first with my last name, in honor of my father, then that of our brave colleague and finally, with that of the younger guy. The boss didn't want to leave his name in the firm, because he didn't want to look back and so he could rest in peace. At the end of the ceremony, I ran my fingers over the letters of my own surname on the plaque at the main entrance and exclaimed: "Edwin, look at this: the firm also has your name!" And I began to weep. There wasn't a dry eye in this meeting, since all my partners knew that I was thinking about my tormented brother. It was so beautiful! Sad but intimate. With less personnel, the workload increased. Not much money came to the firm, so we could not hire somebody else. It was a vicious circle. The former clerk soon assumed control, but she took me under her wing, as if to endow me with leadership, although she had to pay some attention to the "ugly duckling" attorney in order to be fair. He is not unpleasant, in fact, he has some childish charm. But we are passionate, and he is docile, although I know that he can fight the good fight if it is a matter of doing the job well. He is also very polite toward us, and Sheila resents that a little. Perhaps, her lesbic feelings biased her in my favor, and I, upon treating her like my second mother, fell into her "trap." The day, which I desired and feared so much, arrived: a case of much significance. A covert discrimination against some handicapped students, and armed with brave testimonies, medical reports and even statistics found by my male colleague, by the way, his name it is Milton, we faced a cynic court like the previous one, to argue against another daunting law firm. The case went well, but the other part achieved objections in key moments that slowed our pace upon proving our cause. The defense is accustomed to coming very well prepared, since it has more employees and technical resources. But I didn't rely on a settlement, however juicy it might be, and I resorted to the weapons with which a professional woman should always count: her good presence, this is, her power of seduction. I went shopping for nicer suits and beauty treatments for my workmates, with my own money, in order to strut our stuff in the courtroom, and to be noted by the jury and the judge, when the time came to object and to make final arguments. We kept the other firm at bay, with objections, such as "irrelevant," "speculative," "the counsel is leading the witness," and things like that, fair is fair. But we thought of a brilliant idea: we had Milton deliver the closing argument. He was nervous and he stuttered, but he said the right words and his vulnerable attitude moved the jury to compassion, and we won! Even our former boss was among the audience in our moment of triumph. He showed much satisfaction and pride, because I finally learned the fine art of making concessions without giving up my principles, like my father did. Not only we became a well-oiled machine of arguing lawsuits and win money, but we also proved ourselves that we could work in harmony, like a close-knit family. We went to the finest restaurant to celebrate, there we tasted the most exquisite dishes, although Milton found this too exotic, and Sheila, too extravagant. She protested ironically: "This is already too much, as much as wearing these clothes and have undergone so many mud baths and aerobic sessions. I almost feel like some expensive escort!" "These clothes are the classiest that money can by, without losing the elegance or the good taste." Milton cut in: "Speaking about taste, what is the name of this? It tastes odd." We began to laugh, overcome by euphoria, and although he felt a little out of place, he cheered up to share merrily. He began to like what they served us, especially the desserts. By the time of the toast, we were very restrained. Neither Milton nor I drank any alcohol and Raymond took a little sip of wine, because in his condition, it is recommended. Sheila drank more, but with moderation. After paying the check myself, my last extravagant act for a long time, I took them all in an enormous sport-utility vehicle, because taking out the limousine would be too much, and I would look silly as their chauffeur. I left Raymond and Milton in their homes first, because they were not in the mood to party. That left me Sheila for last. I took her to her apartment and she invited me inside, and she even offered me a nightcap. I reminded her: "I can't, I still must go home and this monster is somewhat difficult to handle." "Take it, please. Today I feel so happy." I stood firm. She no longer wanted to drink her wine and she sat down by my side. Putting her arm around me, still plump, she praised me: "I am very proud of you. We beat the system!" Trying to distract her attention from me with a little tact, I replied to her: "Milton was also magnificent." "He is a diamond-in-the-rough, very good. Perhaps, over the years, he will be as good as Raymond or like Andrew, your father. But you are special. In such short time, you are a professional. And very cunning. You didn't borrow this virtue from anyone, because you shine with own light." She was teaching me, with an impressive fondness, about how to leave the past behind and live for the moment in order to look forward to the future with clarity. I dropped my defenses and I put my arm on her shoulder. She hugged me close, I thought innocently, and I met her hug. She began to kiss my cheeks, and maybe I missed the affection of my mother, for I allowed her to kiss me. But I began feeling a little hot in my crotch, and I was in danger, especially after a long period without a man. "You are so beautiful, Alexandra. Mmmmm...." A peculiar current coursed through my body, and I mingled with her, caressing her body, unable to help it. I felt compelled to remove her clothes in order to touch that wrinkled skin by the years, but soft and feverish, and I did it! She also undressed me, whispering: "You dressed like this so for me, knowing the effect that your body has on mine!" Passing The Laws We kissed each other, not like friends, but like lovers. We sighed in unison, upon gasping for air after that kiss: "Ohhh!" There was no turning back. She dragged me to her bed and kissed my breasts. I sighed: "Your lips are so soft!" She almost caused me an orgasm. I also wanted to taste her flesh, and I stuck to a nipple. It was the delirium. I traveled through her body, as if giving her a massage, and she traveled through mine, and we rotated into the 69 position and I was going to eat my first vulva. I had never tasted my own vaginal secretions before, but I had this one in my face, and I didn't know what to do. She begged me with her lips, but not with words, but with their contact with my nether lips: "Kiss it!" And I dove into her vulva. We mutually sought our clitorises, and we suckled them in synchronicity. We mutually traced each other's labia with our lips and tongues and we coaxed more wetness to suck the clitoris more delicately. The orgasms were simultaneous and multiple. Then dug into my love canal and she found my G-spot; that made me feel as if I had a 100-inch penis in me. I returned the favor and she gave a scream against my vulva, grabbing on my buttocks for dear life. I ended up doing the same, and I even shouted like crazy: "You kill me with pleasure. Kill me, you prostitute!" And Sheila's raving went like this: "You little bitch, your arse is mine now!" We squirted feminine semen on each other with, as if we wanted to drown each other, and mercifully, she was the last one to fall unconscious. We woke up at mid-morning, holding on to each other's bellies. We kissed each other again, and upon tasting our own secretions, already dry, we went to wash. I got dressed quickly, and exchanging mischievous glances with her, I told her to do so, and hardly covering our nipples, we rode in my military-style SUV and we raced to my mansion. Upon entering the lobby, we discarded the clothes and I led her to the big Jacuzzi to hug and kiss each other while naked. Her tongue invaded my mouth with lust and I also put mine inside her, and that intertwining of tongues loosened our inhibitions in order to grind our bellies and squeeze each other's breasts. Eager for more pleasure, I led her to the master bedroom and I took out a double-headed dildo. She sat down in the bed and opened her legs greedily for me and I inserted it into her vagina without thinking whether I could hurt her, but she didn't complain, but she received it rather approvingly. I sat down in front of her and inserted the other end in me, leaving a margin of one or two inches (three to five centimeters) in order to begin the sway. At first, both of us got hold of the phallus in order to move it together, and as our hands got tired, we took turns. From time to time, we stroked the clitoris, sometimes, our own, and other times, each other's. When our G-spots woke up, we pressed on and the cramps in our wrists didn't matter to us, until we reached that sensation that sets the whole body on fire again. Finally, we pulled the dildo out, we embraced, and we even rolled over the puddle on the sheets upon kissing once again to say: "I love you!" "I love you too!" I had a brief lapse of good sense, but it was not to regret what I did with her, but in order to clean the mess that we left in our wake. We tossed the washable clothes to a washer and the fine clothes into a bag to take to the dry cleaners. We went back into the Jacuzzi, but only to rest and consider our future together. "Sandy, you have made me so happy." "Thank you." And I embraced her, not with passion, but with love. We fixed us a salad, not so much as to watch our diets, but in order not to use the stove, since we wanted to stay in the nude. We conversed about many things, like little girls, and we went to sleep hugged like "spoons," sometimes, she behind me, and other times, I behind her, in order to grab her breasts and buttocks. It was a beautiful relationship while it lasted, and even Raymond and Milton accepted it without making a fuss. She also shared my interests in culture, but she then invited me to events that were a little more ideological, and obviously, to community activism meetings and of gay rights. But one day, she confronted me: "Sandra, what we had was beautiful, but it's going nowhere." "About what do you talk, Sheila? What do you mean by 'what we had?'" "Look, I took advantage of you in a moment of mutual weakness, but in fact, you are not lesbian." "Maybe not, but I love you." "And I love you too, but this can't go on! I love you like the daughter that, for my life style, I will never have." I passed, in brief instants, from shock to an incredible lucidity: what I did was to make incestuous fantasies come true, first with Charles, as my own brother, then with Raymond, as my father, and finally, with her, as my mother. The remorse that I avoided fell upon me and I had to sit down, and trying to speak in a clear tone of voice, I told her: "You are right, I only played a game of love as in a doll house. I am ready to be a full-grown woman, but, Sheila, I don't regret what I have felt with you, nor am I embarrassed, because it was beautiful. I will always love you, but in another way from now on." We embraced and we kissed, not with sexual excitement, but with mental peace. Once again, I readjusted myself to see her also as a professional and never again as a lover. Closing arguments: Although in the face of the others, I pretended to already be a professional woman, decent and dispassionate, but when I was alone at the end of the day, the loneliness oppressed me. I continued to use my work like an antidote, since I had spent all my options. Grasping my maturity, I insisted on seeing Milton like a colleague or even a brother, but I was not attracted to him physically. I even knew that he was not well-endowed and I thought that, with something like that, I was not going to feel pleasure. One day, a card in the mail surprised us: it was an invitation to Charles' wedding. I had already forgiven him and got ready to attend, because we are already friends and his new office respects to ours like good colleagues. I wanted to go dressed especially for the occasion, since the reception would be in the garden of their mansion, on a summer afternoon. I chose a long sarong-style dress with flower prints, and mischievously, I didn't wear any underwear, since the fabric was a little thin, and at least, the live colors would hide a nipple erection. I had the modesty of taking a long white blazer in order to cover myself during the ceremony, but the party began, I left it in my car. I greeted the newlyweds and I noticed that he ever as handsome as when I had him and she was somewhat tall and slender, like a high-fashion model. I wished them long life and happiness with all my heart and I hinted at the wedding gift that she was getting. She insinuated that she had already opened it, and I congratulated her between giggles of complicity, already feeling free of envy. I mingled and I greeted the guests, although I didn't know anybody. Raymond retired early and Sheila made "radar contact" with one of the bridesmaids. I ordered a glass of white wine, not champagne, in order to toast for the bride and groom without getting tipsy, but I could not help getting a little dizzy, even with only a sip. I wanted to look strong and drink more, but after half a glass, I felt very odd. I went to a bathroom beside the pool, similar to the one in my house, but although I didn't vomit, I very uncomfortable and light-headed. Unexpectedly, Milton came to my rescue, since he had stayed on the sidelines, watching everything from a corner, due to his tremendous shyness, not very a good trait for a litigant lawyer. He signaled me: "Psst! Sandra!" I moved toward him but I tripped between the flagstones that form a walk in the grass, but he reached me on time so that I wouldn't sprain my ankle. Hopelessly, I waved my purse in his face to offer him the keys to my car, and I told him: "Now, you drive. I don't feel well." He settled me in the passenger seat, he buckled me up, careful of not touching my firm breasts, and he even covered me with my jacket as if it were a blanket. Then he circled the SUV to sit behind the wheel, and after starting the engine, he began to drive slowly, unaccustomed to my luxurious and powerful automobiles. Upon arriving to my mansion, which was very close to that of Charles' father, I asked Milton to help me to reach my bathroom. There I mixed the water, not too cold, because I was not that drunk. Once under the warm water, I felt better, but I played on. I staggered a little and I made the old trick that is done in communal bathhouses, as in jails and gyms: I allowed the soap to slip to the floor and I told my friend to bring it to me. He pushed it through the curtain with his little hand, to avoid seeing me, and I told him: "Milton, please, it will slip away again. Why don't you come in to lather me?" I would have loved to see his expression of astonishment, when he said: "In there?" "Yes, please, I can barely stand up." He mumbled, with a tone between exasperated and excited: "But I am going to get wet." "Then, take off your clothes!" "Oh, dear...!" But he did so. His erect penis led the way, the poor guy has less than 6 inches, or 15 cms. But even so, it looked appetizing. I ignored it with an air of pride and I asked him: "Please help wash your poor colleague, who can't do it by herself." He took the soap and he began passing it on my shoulders and my back while I held my hair high. His shy caresses aroused me immediately, and when he arrived at my waist, his hands trembled, so did I, but it was a delicious tremor. When he reached my buttocks, he stopped, frightened. He lied: "I can't reach down there." "Of course you can. It's right in front of you." And he agreed to knead them. He fought the temptation to wedge his member in my cleft and drive himself to an orgasm. I opened my legs a little and told me to help me with my thighs, and he embraced them tenderly down to my calves. Then I turned around and I put my breasts against his ribs and I told him: "Wash me well here." He made big circles on my breasts, but he narrowed them until zeroing in on my nipples, and I vibrated with a small orgasm. I reminded him: "You missed a spot down below." He furrowed from my ribs to my belly and he continued over my abdomen, and looking at me in the eye, he asked me: "Down there too?" "Yes. Now you are helping me." Upon rubbing my clitoris and my labia, I felt on fire, but I bore this as much as I could. His penis was red-hot. The orgasm that I achieved was intense but not enough. I turned again and I told him: "Wash my behind, I am very dirty." "Your anus?" "Yes..." I have a mirror in order to shave my armpits and I directed an enticing look at him. He blushed, but he was not going to reject the monument that he had in front of him, and he spread much soap in my hole, and then, I knew that none of us could hold back any more, so I leaned against his chest and I placed his glans shamelessly at the entrance of my anus, I lathered it, I loosened my sphincter a little and I got it inside. Then I took his hands in mine for an embrace, but his could not stay still, trying to reach all of me, while I moved to sodomize myself. He took the initiative, and holding on to my sides, he pumped into me forcefully. He wanted to do it more slowly, but feeling so much heat in his testicles, he accelerated his rhythm while we both shared a childish scream and he then pressed hard inside my rectum in order to ejaculate. I felt my bowels fill with burning lava, and that combined with all the caresses that he offered me in my front, caused me to ejaculate against the bathroom wall, and the water washed my semen away. Now we felt really dizzy, so I turned to hold him in a hug, and so his penis came out, resting against my abdomen, still erect. We rinsed our parts and we turned off the shower and I went to lie on my bed, and he followed me like a lap dog, although he just lost his erection. After spooning himself against me, he told me: "Do you feel any better?" "Yes, I never imagined that it would be so marvelous." He was a little sad, because he felt too insignificant to wish for a woman so far out of his reach as me, too beautiful and too rich. I turned around to hug him face-to-face and I kissed him, telling him: "I know about your worries." "How could you know?" "I know that you fell in love with me." "From the first moment... What am I saying? This can't be..." I was not going to let him cry, so I pressed against him to soothe him, whispering to his ear: "Shhh, Shhh! It's all right, stay calm. You are with me." I kissed that ear and his cheek, trailing a path toward his lips, and I told him: "Do you know that you are the only boy whom I have allowed to ejaculate inside me?" He breathed deep to avoid crumbling and he said: "Do you trust me that much? It might be that I was a virgin, because I was never lucky with the girls." "And how about now, with me?" He remained silent and I also preferred to stay quiet. The truth is, I was not really intoxicated with so little wine that I ingested, but with the envy that I still felt for Charles and for his brand-new wife, because for me, the wedding was only an excuse in order to proclaim to the four winds how much they were going to enjoy of so much sex, sharing such a big penis. Later on, we did have to use condoms in order to have sex, at least in the beginning, because I didn't love him yet, I only hung on to him to avoid feeling lonely. But upon noticing that we lasted together longer that my previous lovers, I had him move in with me, since he lived in a modest rented apartment, so we could keep each other company. That day, we were a little tired after making space to his belongings in my shed, and after giving him the room of my dead brother for his clothes and essential articles, we didn't do much more besides showering together, and since the muscular pains made us feel uncomfortable around each other, we even had to sleep on separate beds. We felt guilty for not spending the night together, but when we felt better, we celebrated with a copulation in the missionary position, after a light but pleasant erotic massage. He didn't get deep enough at first, so I turned to be on top of him in the "cowgirl" pose, and I bounced on him until I gushed so much feminine semen that I felt exhausted, collapsing on his chest. He told me: "You are awesome, I don't know what you have, but you gave me two consecutive orgasms! Oh, I know..." "For my experience, for the fact that I am such a slut?" "No, for your beauty, for your love toward me!" My semblance changed and he noticed it, and he continued: "I have made a mistake with you. You don't love me. You still feel for Charles." "No, Milton. I already forgot him; although that day of their wedding, he gave me a little nostalgia." "But you still seek somebody better than me. I, who always was 'painted on the wall,' who has only been a carpet over whom all of you step. I was even aware of the dirty trick that you did to me by making me argue that case!" He shut up after realizing that he was talking too much. Then, he began to sob, and he asked me for forgiveness. I consoled him: "Milton, it's all right. It's true, we never gave you the importance that you deserve. I even had to look for love in an old man or a lesbian before turning to you. You are young, cute and you know how to please a woman. It won't happen again, I promise you." He put on a look of disbelief and his tears wouldn't stop, so I had to take out the heavy artillery, and I exclaimed: "No, Milton, better yet, I swear to you: I do love you!" "No, Miss Alexandra, I don't want your white lies! I'm not even rich or handsome enough to look good with you!" "Don't you say that! You are very beautiful!" He shook me off his body, careful not to drop me to the floor, while he protested, already with a voice less vehement: "Don't do this to me, don't you tell me that you love me or care for me. We are together only to satisfy your physical desire. I don't know what you gain from fooling around with such a geek like me, people will think that you are crazy!" "Don't do this to yourself, Milton. You love me and have suffered for my sake all this time, that's why you talk like this..." "I am not blind. You have the body of a goddess, and for that reason, you bewitched me, from the first moment in which I saw you. But nothing more." I approached gingerly to caress his cheek, still moist for the bad moment through which he was going, and I whispered to him again: "You feel something beautiful about me; don't deny it!" Still defiant, like a wrongly punished boy, he replied: "I don't wish you ill, if that's what you mean." I did have an effect on him, because I ran my fingers "absent-mindedly" over his nipples, and then, he changed his tone and he continued: "All right, you have much love to give, because you must have suffered a lot when you lost all of your family in such short time. I don't consider you a slut, not even a spoiled girl, but somebody who also has a right to be happy. But I don't consider myself worthy of you, not only because I am ugly, but because I am not strong enough to face what you have gone through." "All right. Let's talk about your closing arguments, yes, your closing arguments! We made you deliver it, not only so you would inspire pity to the jury, but so that they could see the clients through you, and that only could be achieved because you were very convincing, recovering soon from your shyness. You succeeded where I failed. That, in my book, is strength!" He turned around to look at me timidly, and upon seeing that I also had tears in my eyes, because I spilled my soul in my last words, he hugged me and it was his turn to comfort me, whispering to me while he caressed my cheeks and my back with desperate fondness: "No, Sandy! Don't you cry! I love you! There, I said it!" "I always knew it. I love you too, I love you a lot; I really love you!" We allowed us to cry freely, and we even devoured each other's tears with frenzied but soft kisses. We got excited to the point of beginning to make love without foreplay, inserting his penis in my vagina without reaching for a condom. He stroked inside slowly, allowing himself time to kiss my lips and caress my breasts; the act no longer resembled a hardcore pornographic movie but a soft romantic one. I had a very delicate and refreshing orgasm while he ejaculated inside me, and we then got up lazily and we washed a little, to have dinner and rest afterwards. Verdict: Milton is also a sensitive soul. Except because he doesn't like opera, he is very cultivated and intelligent. It was much easier to fall in love with his mind than with his body, but when I came to really feel it, we knew that this would last forever. One night, somebody called at my house, and upon answering, I didn't recognize the voice. At first, I thought that it was somebody who requested our services because he or she was arrested by the police or had suffered an accident. But the person called me by my first name and he wanted me to come to Raymond's house. I guessed that it was a neighbor, and that the boss needed medical attention. But he insisted: "Don't be afraid, but please come alone. I will explain everything to you here." I got dressed without waking up Milton, I took the sports car, and upon arriving to the door, I called, making the least possible noise. A young half-naked man received me, with certain effeminate features, who requested much discretion from me for what I was about to see, before letting me go to the room. There he was, like sleeping face down and totally naked. But upon coming closer, I realized that something was very wrong and I demanded from the guy: Passing The Laws "What have you done to him?" "I didn't do anything. He suddenly felt sick and I didn't know what more to do. Luckily, your numbers were stored in his cordless telephone." I don't know how I restrained my hysteria while he explained to me: "You know that he became impotent, and that he could not take Viagra or anything of that sort. So, he preferred to do this with me: receiving anal sex. You see, he is very handsome, and I found a pity to waste his charm, so I fell in love with him and he felt the same way about me. He should have been the one to stick his penis in my anus...!" And he broke down in tears. Then I understood a little of what was happening: Raymond had been a "closet" homosexual, and upon losing his erection capability, the best way of reaching the climax was directly through the masculine G-spot: his prostate gland. And this "gay" was giving him that pleasure, which I remembered how much I enjoyed it myself, and I even felt like asking it from him. But we had a serious problem to solve: Raymond had just died, of a heart attack or a stroke, during the very act. I calmed him, saying: "I am a lawyer, I will solve this. Nobody is going to meddle in our pain." I called, through my cellular telephone, to a policeman that had been a friend of my father and of Raymond in their youth, the same one who gave us the codes for locating cell phones, and I even consulted Charles, because in such delicate cases, it is better to resort to external consultantship, one which is not emotionally involved in the situation. The coroner took the body away at mid-morning, after all the neighbors were gone to their respective jobs and schools, in order not to attract the onlookers. Raymond' partner could only give a statement after he had been able to calm down. He said that had spent with him some days, and he insisted that he loved him and that he wouldn't do anything to hurt him. A simple blood test was enough to corroborate that it was natural causes, and that he even enjoyed a faint orgasm while he died, although his semen was not found in his sheets, because his physical constitution was already very fragile. All those who worked with him at any moment mourned him, including Charles and his wife, and even other colleagues, against whom we had litigated in the past, came to present him their respects. His companion preferred to watch the eulogy from a distance, which I gave myself, while the tears and the knot in my throat allowed me. I made arrangements so that he was buried next to the tombs of my family, because it was there where he belonged. Since we loved him and we missed him so much, we added his last name to the firm, and with so many good names, we attracted much more and better clientele, among rich and poor, guilty and innocent. Even some simple paperwork done by us acquired certain status if it carried the seal of our small firm, because this meant much love.