by Linda Chorlton
This is a story that makes us solicitors seem like arseholes to the little man in the street, but, in reality, it is a fact that the first thing an solicitor learns is to take care of "number one"--because no one else will.
In real life, it's selfish pricks like me that get the cream, the money and the best sex that's out there just for the asking--as long as you don't let your conscience stand in your way. Nice chaps only win in the cinema.
This was a standard non-support case-- a shit of a husband in a nearby town, remarried, not paying support for his kids--no money, no assets--in other words, no chance to collect. But she was determined to make him suffer, and her money was as good as the next person's, so we spent an unsuccessful morning in court, then drove back to my office.
We were discussing my fees, which she obviously didn't have, and it seemed to me that she was hinting at working out other arrangements for payment. I studied her as we talked.
She was 42, black medium length hair and sexy, flirty brown eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiled, which was often. I liked that. I've found that women who smile easily spread their legs easily. She had huge, firm looking D cup tits, a nice round, full bum and her legs were slender with shapely calves, more accentuated by her wearing dark nylons and black high heels.
A moderately full mouth was encircled with bright red lipstick, and she kept her lips glossy and inviting by running her tongue over them frequently. She was dressed in a cheap but stylish black full skirt and white jacket, a la Littlewoods, with a semi see-through white polyester blouse.
I'm 28 years old and have always had the hots for older women, especially wearing nylons like my client's nylons. The older woman knows what a fella wants, and how to give it to him. Experience shows. Tawdriness was ill-concealed behind an exaggerated air of respectability.
She repeated often, as though assuring herself, that she was a hard working, respectable mother of two teenagers, and only wanted what was owing to her. I certainly knew what I thought she had coming to her, and I promised myself to do my damndest to give it to her before she left the office.
I stood up and walked round and sat on the edge of my desk, not even bothering to hide the growing bulge in the front of my pressed trousers. I have always been quick to transfer sexy thoughts to other parts of my body. I had a stiffy.
Heredity had been good to me, so the protuberance was not unnoticeable, and she could not miss seeing it. I am living proof of the phrase "As plain as a pikestaff".
I told her that I was open to suggestion regarding my fee, whereupon, with a playful smile up at me, she slid her chair forward without a word, and with a practiced hand, whipped down my zipper, took my bloated sack in her right hand, skinned back my foreskin with her left and plunged my throbbing "bobby's helmet" into the hot, delicious confines of her milking mouth with not even the slightest hesitation.
Her right forefinger found the sensitive little spot right behind my balls, and the scraping of her long red fingernail almost caused me to shoot my load immediately.
I could barely control my voice when, with my spasming cock making its acquaintance with my client's tonsils, I flicked on the intercom and told my secretary to hold all of my calls. I also flicked the switch that activated the video camera and microphone hidden behind the full length mirror next to my desk.
I stiffened and took several deep breaths, finally regaining control just as my prostate gave a hard twitch and forced out part of my pre-cum load. Feeling the twitch, she pulled away as the glob of sperm oozed from the tip of my cock, then just as it was about to run down the underside, she plunged it back into her mouth and sucked as hard as she could, drawing the dregs of the sperm up from deep inside of me.
Though my head was swimming, I managed a smile. Ever a lawyer, I realised that she had said nothing about what she wanted in return for her oral favours. We had no contract.
If I wanted to be dirty--and right at the moment, it felt good thinking about letting her suck me for nothing--I could set whatever terms I wanted to and be within my legal rights.
After all, the law is the law. But practically speaking, I'd have to come up with something to appease her. I thought quickly. I had been going to charge her £200.00. I mentally upped the bill to £300.00, and gave her a £100.00 discount. That way, she'd be happy, I'd get my money, and I'd get the physical and psychological pleasure of being a double winner in this deal with this living personification of my recurrent fantasies.
She was sucking like an electric milking machine by now, and the technique was unlike anything that I'd ever experienced. She'd filled her mouth with saliva and with a slight in and out movement of her head coupled with tremendous suction she was noisily surging the saliva back and forth around my ultra sensitive cockhead.
My wife hadn't been taking care of me, and the tremendous load I'd built up, coupled with the unique sensations put us on the home stretch, and she knew what effect she was causing me. I stared at her in fascination. This woman was not just giving head--she was a professional cocksucker--a craftswoman without peer.
And the surprising thing was that she seemed to be genuinely enjoying what she was doing--she seemed to be getting off herself as I approached my orgasm. Aroused, I watched her face with fascination, watching my ever burgeoning rod sliding between those carmine lips, she looked up at me, and as a thrill of guilt ran through me, she knowingly winked at me, pulled me out of her mouth and asked huskily if she was doing it right.
My hips involuntarily jerked forward, trying to get it back in her mouth as I gave her what I'm sure was a strained smile and told her she was doing great. The stimulation of watching my cock disappear into her smile as I complimented her placed the entire matter on a right now basis.
As the feeling rose from deep between my legs, I ordered her to pull up her skirt so I could see her legs, and she did my bidding without even missing a suck.
A thrill lanced through my loins when I saw that she was wearing tightly gartered nylons instead of tights. Nylons had been my secret fetish since I was a kid, and the fact that so few women wore them anymore added to the thrill of viewing this 'forbidden fruit'. The thought that she had planned this whole episode from the beginning, right down to the nylons excited me almost to orgasm.
With my left hand I reached down and grabbed a handful of tit, and my right hand went to the back of her head. I wasn't going to let her pull away at the last minute like my wife did--but somehow I sensed that my worries were groundless.
As my balls began to swell to that firmness that indicates they are intending to chuck out the jizm, and my senses began climbing up toward that heavenly peak, she gripped my ball sack in a gentle but firm grip that seemed to slow down the approaching orgasm.
Gently she tickled my testicles, which sent me even further down Uncontrolled Avenue. Her oral ministrations were extremely stimulating, but that strong but gentle hand had a calming effect and the two opposing feelings made the orgasm seem to take minutes to arrive.
My heart rate seemed to slow down and my heart thudded loudly in my chest as each suck moved me closer to my crisis. Then suddenly I couldn't stand it anymore. I felt like the king of the world.
Looking down at her from my lofty perch, squeezing the monstrous boob in my left hand, I wound my hand in her hair and jerked her head back and forth, each time forcing more of my cock into her mouth until she was almost choking, but she never pulled back.
When she reached between her legs and began playing with her pussy as I roughly jerked her head onto my cock, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
She was getting off on the rough treatment. I would like to have experimented more, but the tremendous mental and physical stimulation pushed me over the top, and with almost painful jets, I shot a copious load of jism right down her throat, my cock unbelievably huge and purple looking, the orgasm without a doubt the best I'd ever experienced in a woman's mouth.
And as I rode the crest of the orgasm, she rubbed her clit vigorously and popped her cork, moaning and groaning around my squirting rod, making it feel even better.
I collapsed backward onto my elbows, basking in the after glow, my cock still twitching in her hand as she licked her lips and swallowed the remains of my wad.
Then, squeezing up the length of my cock, she forced up a final dollop of spunk, and looking at me, she told me that this was the best, because it was the freshest, and she wanted to be sure and taste it.
Then, squeezing the huge drip onto her tongue, she let me watch her spread it around her mouth and slowly and with a sensuous grin, swallowed the entire thing. Then, as though not yet satisfied, she sucked my cock clean of every last drop of cum, kissed my balls tenderly and sat back in her chair with a smile, rearranging her skirt, giving me a shot of her unpantied beaver before dropping the skirt primly into place.
I let my head drop back onto the desk, eyes closed, trying to regain my strength. I'd never had a head shot like that. The woman was a vampire-- she positively loved cum.
I glanced at the clock and with a shock realized that she'd sucked me for almost 20 minutes, and that we were almost through the lunch hour. Quickly, I refigured her bill. I'd need to get paid for that extra hour now, and--what the hell--she'd just had her lunch on me! I tacked £50.00 dollars onto her bill.
That would make it £350.00. But then I realized that she'd probably dicker with me, so I threw on another £100.00 to give me something to work with, for a total of £450.00 less her discount. I'd just gotten paid £150.00 for blowing my wad down my client's throat! As I'd watched her repair her lipstick, I thought about the glimpse of her hairy twat that I'd had as she'd pulled the skirt down.
I was still excited and the thought of fucking this 'respectable' mother of three made my cock start to stand up again. I didn't bother to put it away. Well, Mrs.-----, that was great--you certainly have talent--but now there's the matter of your bill."
Well, of course, she'd expected that the entire bill would be forgiven based on her performance, but I gave her a lecture on overhead, travel fees, etc., then made my pitch for the discount. But before I did it, a perverse streak caused me to quote her £550.00 as my bill to see what she'd say.
She seemed taken aback, but I pointed out that I'd done a lot of research before we'd gone to court. I gently explained to her that just because she'd assumed that I'd dismiss the whole bill didn't constitute a contract because we'd had no discussion beforehand. Then I asked her what she thought her services had been worth.
Just as I thought, she undervalued them--obviously low self esteem--and dubiously quoted £100.00. I could have backed her down, but I had another plan in mind. I accepted her offer, and generously knocked off another £50.00 to show good faith. That term always gets them, even though it meant nothing in this case.
Now we were down to £400.00. She had brightened appreciably. I then offered her a chance to knock the bill down another £50.00 if I could fuck her--and I said it just like that. She acted as though the very words turned her on. But, believe it or not, she was getting bolder, and came back with £100.00. We finally settled on £75.00.
I was on a roll, and I could have gotten her down to £50.00--but, what the hell--I'm not totally devoid of conscience! She was great. Sopping wet and as tight as a teenage girl, if she'd had two kids, my hat is off to the doctor who took the stitches. And 15 minutes later, with her on her back on my desk, me standing on the floor and hammering it straight up into her pussy, her nylon covered legs draped over my shoulders so I could get maximum penetration--I like my money's worth--with my huge rod being swallowed whole by her hairy, milking cunt, my wife called on my office phone.
Without missing a beat I told her I'd be home early, and that she should get the kids ready so we could go out for an early dinner--that I was starved. When she asked if I was having a good day, I almost laughed. The best blowjob of my life, fucking my fantasy--an older woman--on my office desk, and having her pay me an extra £125.00 for the privilege--I guess you could call that the perfect day, if there is such a thing.
And it became even more perfect when I hung up the phone, and with ten teeth rattling (hers) jabs, ejaculated what was left of my sperm directly into her uterus, as she shrieked in orgasm and clenched her nylon covered legs behind my back, doing her best to impale her self on my spurting stiffy.
And when I pulled it out and made her lick it clean, she did it without a word of complaint--in fact, she tried to suck me off again, and I had to push her away. Hell, she couldn't afford it!
Oh, yeah. You'll love this. It so happens that I play racquetball with a doctor and a dentist. The next day, while we were getting ready for the shower, I told them the story of how I'd scammed her, and we all had a good laugh over it, though the dentist seemed strangely silent afterwards, and when he took his jock strap off, he had a hardon you could have hung a towel on.
The doctor and I teased him over it, and I asked him if the story had been too graphic. His response was that she was one of his patients and that her kids needed braces, and that she had an appointment for that very afternoon to discuss with him how she would pay for them.
It was obvious that his mind was running away with the possibilities for creative finance posed by my client's willingness to engage in the barter system, as well as her ignorance of our flexible 'professional' rate schedules. And that's not the end of the story.
The dentist sent me a check for £500.00 for 'professional consultation' so I can just begin to imagine how creative his financing must have been. And the doctor sent me a £100.00 'referral fee' because the dentist had to consult him for vitamins and testosterone shots just to be able to collect his bill. And the video--it came out just perfect--that is, my face couldn't be identified on it--and I sold it to a mail-order dealer in amateur adult video for £500.00--except for the copy I loan to my buddies when they have a stag party.
So--my gross on the entire deal was £1,425.00, my overhead was the original £200.00 I would have charged her, and the net on the deal was £1,225.00--plus a dynamite head shot, and a passable fuck.
I can't wait until the next time she decides to make her ex-husband suffer. In my professional opinion, it's going to be a long, involved case!!!
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