Lawyers in Lust Copyright 2005 Martin Gatsby
PART ONE
Bright streaks of sunshine fell into Brooke's Wrigleyville condo. Dappled reflections of morning sun played along her sectional couch. A stray ray of light caught the silver Thermos resting on its side next to the couch. Another shaft of light struck Brooke's long since discarded pantyhose. The sunlight shimmered off the tanned, glossy material. Random flecks of glitter from Brooke's body lotion were discovered and illuminated on the smooth fabric. Muted sounds of traffic echoed from outside the window. The digital clock on the stove read 7:34.
Brooke's body stretched out in front of her bed. Her graceful legs curved back towards the window in her living room. She lay on her back with her arms extended out to the side and her legs draped in a straight line parallel to her bed. Every inch of her 5'8" body, from her high arches to her wavy black hair, radiated peace. Her B cup breasts rose and fell in long measured beats. Crimson aureoles spread flat like silver dollars on top of her tanned breasts. The stripe of thin black hair on her mound pointed downward to now resting folds. On her thighs, telltale trances of her own come told the story of an eventful night.
With a loud start, Brooke shook herself awake. For a moment it felt as if she was in some strange place. When she realized that she was in the comfort of her condo, she swallowed slowly and took in the scene around her. The sheets on her bed were in disarray. Storage containers from her closet were spilled carelessly on the floor. The drawers on her dressing bureau hung open and various blouses, skirts, and other clothing cascaded down in silken waterfalls. It almost looked as if someone had tried to rob her. That wasn't the case.
After ingesting the aphrodisiac tea that her friend and co-worker Michelle had made for her, she had spent the entire evening bringing herself to orgasm. The tea's delicious properties had left her body highly susceptible to the sensation of touch. At first, the extra sensation was almost more than she could bear. Just the act of walking had brought her dangerously close to orgasm. After a while, the effects lessened to where she regained some control of her body. Following each orgasm the drug allowed her a moment of clarity. Sometimes it lasted five or ten minutes. During that spell, her sense of touch returned to normal and her libido would be toned down to a dull throb. With the rest period completed, her desire rekindled itself. With each successive cycle of lust, her sensation of touch dropped and became a bit closer to normal. Brooke remembered the discovery of these cycles last night. The drug conditioned her to hungrily seek orgasm in order to get her senses back. She fell asleep after eight of them.
Brooke sighed and looked at the chaos of her bedroom. In her drug induced lust, Brooke had tried to find anything and everything to rub against her highly sensitized body. Silk blouses. Stockings. Whisper soft scarves. Satin panties. Any soft fabric to drag across her body. Early in the evening, she only needed to touch what she had previously believed non-erogenous zones such as her legs or arms to achieve overwhelming pleasure. As the night stretched on, she concentrated on her nipples and clitoris. The results were heavenly - one orgasm after another. Each orgasm felt different than the last, but their toll finally battered her into sleep.
Brooke shook her head. How could she climax by simply walking? She smiled when she remembered when Michelle told her that a skilled lover could make a woman come by touching any part of her body. Her smile quickly fell to a frown. Michelle. Damn her. She had tricked her and reduced her to a quivering mess last night. Her eyes narrowed. If there were any justice, she was going to pay for this.
Brooke stood and stretched her body. She felt pretty good considering the exertions her body suffered the night before. She walked steadily to the shower and stepped inside. Warm water pounded down against her head and the hard flow streamed down her body. She interlaced her fingers and reached up towards the ceiling in a long catlike stretch. Then, she turned and stood with her back to the shower head and leaned backward. The constant hammering of the sizzling shower relaxed her muscles and cleared the rest of the cobwebs from her head.
As she soaped her lithe legs, Brooke's mind fluttered back to her unearthly state last night. She remembered desperately grabbing for any sensuous material to rub against her quivering body. With disbelief, she recalled how hard she came. She also remembered frantically searching for a gag gift one of her college friends had sent her in celebration of Brooke reaching partnership at S&G. The gift had arrived at her condo wrapped in a pink box with an incredibly baroque pink bow. Inside the box, was a rabbit vibrator that Brooke instantly recognized from an episode of Sex in the City. The card on the inside read "you're going to be so busy...you might need a helping hand!" She remembered stowing the toy in her apartment and never once trying it out. In the early hours of Saturday morning, however, Brooke had stalked through her apartment rifling through her positions trying to find the device. Murky, lusty thoughts prevented her from actually finding the device.
FLOOR OF THE ENTRYWAY CLOSET UNDER THE CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS
Brooke's eyes shot open and she stood rigidly under the shower spray. The soap clattered from her hands as her logical mind suddenly announced where the vibrator had been hiding. She bent at the knees and retrieved the soap from the shower floor. The shower completely embraced her in warmth as no part of her body escaped its warm licks. The water briefly plugged her ears and wrapped her in a cocoon of gentle silence. She rose, soap in hand, and turned back to face the shower spray. The hot throbbing water pulsed into her breasts and stomach. Delightfully exact surges of water caught her nipples and her clit tingled.
Brooke didn't understand. The drug was undoubtedly out of her system. Her mind was clear and she no longer felt the telltale warmth in her stomach that she had already logically associated with the drug's presence. Still, she felt her thighs flex as her ruddy nipples thickened fully into miniature erections of flesh.
She had been so mesmerized by the idea of using the rabbit vibrator last night. When she first received the gift, she even relayed its existence to Michelle in a giggle filled lunchtime conversation. In response, Michelle gushed her enthusiasm for rabbit vibrators and how they caused her to experience clitoral and vagina orgasms at the same time. Brooke has only read of such momentous events in the pages of Cosmo, but Michelle assured her that her "kitty would smile for hours with that thing."
Brooke rinsed the soap from her body before turning off the shower. Her movements had slowed to half speed, and she stood dripping water in front of the now silenced shower head. The heavy steam of her shower clung to her and her hair hung in wet, sexy strands across her face.
Though she hadn't found the vibrator last night, she vividly remembered how its packaging bragged of the toy's incredible attributes. The six inch shaft of the vibrator was girly pink and contained about 40 small pearls near the base. With the flick of a switch, those pearls would move back and forth around the shaft stimulating both the outside and inside of a woman's vagina. Additionally, the jelly head of the toy would revolve around and around only stopping at the whim of the woman. Brooke always liked that idea. No more worries of the premature orgasms of options traders or dysfunctionally limp frat boys. The rabbit gave her pleasure at her hands. Or it would have if she had ever used it. Finally, the toy featured a pair of whisper soft rabbit ears that would gently surround the clitoris. The tips of the ears could pull back the clitoral hood bringing full waves of vibration to that nugget of pleasure at the top of her vaginal entrance. The ears would also fold back and hug the vulva before joining the shaft. Even to the normally shy Brooke, it sounded like heaven on earth. "Proof that there are women engineers," Michelle had said.
With labored movements, Brooke reached for her towel and patted away the moisture on her body. She could barely believe how good she felt. Years of positive peer pressure and Nancy Reagan had taught her that drugs - almost anything harder than an Aspirin - would result in a spiral of pain and loss. This substance she had unwittingly tried seemed to have only produced pleasure. And the day after? No hangover no needle-marks. In fact, she had a healthy glow. As she patted the wetness off her taut, tanned legs, and caught a glimpse of her pussy in the mirror. Normally, her nether lips were quite delicate and sunken back into her pubic mound. Not this morning. They looked full and luscious as if the arousal from last night had been imprinted on them. She involuntarily licked her lips.
It wasn't as if she hadn't masturbated before. She had found it to be a fine stress reliever. It was just that it was not a common occurrence. Sure, prior to an exam or a long brief she would find the time to lie on her bed and touch herself. Normally, her mind filled itself with romantic notions of being swept away by some white knight. Her erotic dreams typically touched on medieval fantasy. She thought of her self as Joan of Arc. But in Brooke's version, she would cheat death and find a gallant male equal to rescue her into bliss. Her masturbation technique was pretty rote by now. She typically would tease her outer lips until she could feel herself sufficiently slick and aroused. Then her hands would dart to her clit and circle carefully until a tickling feeling built within her. She usually ignored her sensitive nipples. Her past lovers explored them, but she never tried to pleasure herself that way. Instead, Brooke would seek out that tickling feeling in her wet folds and circle faster and faster until a small orgasm trickled out of her body. She never went for more than one climax. Why would she need that?
Her mind suddenly had answers to that question. The multiple orgasms last night were so novel. They exploded and turned...bucked and weaved. They radiated pleasure on every inch of her body. They left her wanting more.
She was staring at herself in the shower mirror now. Her mind was clear about two things. First, she was absolutely sure the drug was out of her system. Second, she was horny again.
