Woman Lawyers Pt 01

Woman Lawyers - Part 1 - Memories of Paris

Chapter 1- Morning Light

The early sun was slanting into the room when I opened my eyes. Her side was warm against me, her breathing slow and steady. I was sticky and needed to pee but didn't want to wake her. Slipping carefully out of bed, I made my way to the kitchen, put the coffee on, and used the downstairs shower.

As I was drying off, the shower above started and I knew she must have heard my noise. I fixed some juice, fruit, toast, and for good measure, a Bloody Mary for her. A gulp of strong coffee for me helped a lot.

I thought about clothes and decided it was a clothes optional morning. The two of us needed to talk.

She was standing naked in front of her full length wardrobe mirror when I walked in with the breakfast tray. Her arms were over her head, toweling hair. The sunlight didn't reach that corner of the bedroom, so her white body was in shadow. She stopped and looked at me in the mirror. I'd never seen her so beautiful, both front and back presented to me at the same time. She'd not seen me frontally naked either, newly grown several inches in height. Neither of us said a word, taking in the quiet peacefulness of the moment. Her eyes were dark and hard to see, but the gaze was sharply focused on me. And mine on her.

She smiled thinly and said, "We have to talk."

"I know," I said, "but would you do me a favor and stay right there for a moment."

I quickly put the tray on the night table, ran down the hall to my room, and grabbed the camera already on its tripod.

She was still working on her hair and watched as I positioned the camera about ten feet away and quickly set it for high enough ISO to capture light and shadow. The mood wouldn't work with flash, so I attached the remote shutter cable and stood to the side.

"You have the look of a Renaissance painting. Please don't say anything, keep drying your hair, listen to my words, and forget the camera."

"You're twenty-six and have been in Paris for a week, doing research for your dissertation on 19th century French painters. Your mind is full of glorious images from too many paintings in too few days. You are in a top floor walk up apartment in Montmartre..."

Click, click, click. She actually was assuming the role, her expression magically softening as she imagined herself at that age again, in that romantic place. The light was stupendous, I'd never taken shots like this before.

"The apartment belongs to your cousin Phillippe, who has lent it to you for a fortnight because he is going off to St. Tropez with his girlfriend...."

Click, click. "Now wrap your head, grab the lotion from the dresser, turn so your left side and back are to me. That's fine. Now your leg up high on the dresser and open yourself so I see just a hint of of your bottom. "

There was now a shaft of light across her back and down her buttocks to her knee. She had always had a prominent mound and this morning it was puffed up and added a special eroticism to the effect. Click, click click.

"The three of you went out together last night, Phillippe and Anna wanting to show you their favorite places. By midnight your head was swimming with cheap red wine from student cafes and you begged to go back. They needed to quit as well because of the morning flight to Marseille. Phillippe asked quietly if it was ok, just this once, for them to stay with you in the apartment. You said that was no problem at all...."

"Now stand in front of the mirror, rub some lotion into your breasts and look back over your shoulder at me. That's right." Click, click.

"You're remembering that as soon as the three of you got back to the apartment, winded by the climb and the wine, Anna stripped off everything and walked into the small shower. Phillippe was also naked in a moment, saying he would save some hot water for you by doubling up with Anna. And would you like to join them?"

"Even full of wine, it took a few moments for you to shed your American modesty. But they were friends, and why not be daring?"

"Go to the door of the bathroom and glance back at me as though you were examining the room and wondering if you should be naked going in there with your cousin and his lover."

"That's perfect." Click, click, click. "You know, the light has changed and I think these are the best I'm going to get."

After a moment, she said, "I want to know what happened to me in the bathroom. In Paris. The year I was twenty-six and willing to be naked with my cousin and his girl friend."

I walked over to her, took that wonderful face with the high cheekbones and perfect skin into my hands and gently kissed her on the lips. "So, you like my little story?"

"You've made me unbelievably horny, just like you did last night, and I'm going to punish you severely if you don't finish the story and finish me too." I was pulled into a tight clinch and rubbed up and down. She hadn't had a chance to put on deodorant and my nose was full of womanly scent. My cock, which I had been able to restrain up to now, was beginning to slide between her thighs.

"All right. Get into the bed and take the tray from me. I'll sit behind you and do your hair while we eat and I make up the rest of the story."

"Are you really making this up right now? You didn't read this somewhere before?" She slid into the bed and I handed her the tray.

"Honest Injun, I just had to come up with something to set the mood and get you to thinking about sex and your body."

"And how many girls have you gotten into after tales of innocence and seduction in Paris?"

"Remember when you had that birds and bees talk with me, and said that good guys do not talk about their girlfriends with other women? If I follow that advice, I can't answer your question."

I reached around and caressed her nipples, which were stiffly protruding from her high and firm breasts. Then fingers down between her legs to make sure she was wet, which she was.

She took a deep breath, put the tray down, then climbed back into my lap facing me. Still saying nothing, but looking determined, she rose up on her knees and slowly let herself down over my rampant cock. I reached out and pulled her to a warm, wet kiss. She squeezed me several times, signaling that slow was not the order of the morning.

Chapter 2 - Cheering Up Karen

I marveled at where this was going. The prominent lawyer, widowed two years ago by a plane crash, pulls herself together and enters a fitness program that loses twenty pounds and makes her abs almost as good as mine. Urged on by her sister and son, that's me, she goes on a few dates where nothing works, not even sex for the sake of sex. Then she comes home last night from the latest date, more than a little drunk, and says she is going to bed. I finish my magazine and head upstairs too. Passing her door, I find her sitting on the bed, quietly crying.

This will never do, I think, and sit down with my arm around her. She pulls me back onto the bed and rolls into me, sobbing "Oh Eric, I'm never going to find a decent guy again."

I don't say anything, just hold her while the sobs die out. She lifts her head, kisses me softly on the lips and says, "Thank you, will you hold me a little longer?"

"Of course, but why don't we get you out of these smelly clothes and into the bed?" I pulled her up gently and began taking clothes off. She didn't resist, but let me do the work, sniffling quietly. When she was down to bra and panties, I helped her into the bathroom and got her some tissue to do her nose with while she sat on the toilet and noisily drained herself. She smiled a bit at me, and said, "Do you help a lot of girls go?"

I nodded vigorously and said, "All the time, something about me makes women need to pee."

She laughed, and stood up, dropping her underwear on the floor, and walking into the shower. "Come in with me and help wash a bad evening away."

I hesitated a moment. We were casual about nudity but the two of us had not shared a shower in ten years or more. Then got rid of my shorts and t-shirt and followed her into the large shower. She had the presence of mind to put her shower cap on and was standing just letting the water flow down on her shoulders, hot and steamy. I grabbed the soap and went to work. Face, neck, shoulders, armpits carefully, then the soft and yielding breasts.

Her arms went around and she pulled me in tight. "You're awfully nice to an old lady with problems."

I said nothing, but turned her back to me and continued working slowly down the front with soap, kneading her breasts lightly, tweaking and pulling at the stiffening nipples. Then across her tight belly and into the fleshy lips of her sex, making sure soap went everywhere, both front and back. She pushed into me, trying to see if I was hard, then pulled me in again, her tongue suddenly in my mouth. My fingers dug into her fine ass, forcing her sex against my hardening cock.

She said, "You know, a girl could get off, playing around in the shower like this."

I ran my hands up and down her slippery body, loving the feel of her, the parts that curved in and the parts that curved out, the bony hips, the tight behind.

I replied, "Yes, a girl could, and so could a guy." My cock was now erect and sliding back and forth between her thighs. The tension inside of me was building. I was torn between the delicious sensations of the moment, and my duty to cheer her up from a disappointing date and get her to bed.

I reached past and turned off the water, then wrapped her body in the large bath towel. I rubbed vigorously, taking liberties with tits and ass and pussy that would have gotten me in trouble another time.

She said, "Give me a minute to work on my face." Standing in front of the mirror, she began removing her eye makeup and the remains of the rouge on her cheeks.

I said, "Would you like me to put some lotion on your legs?"

"That would really be nice. Old women like me need to pay attention to their skin." She stared back at me from the mirror, dropped the towel, and stood on it with her legs apart.

I was happy to grab the lotion bottle and go to my knees behind her, hiding a very hard dick.

For a few minutes, neither of us said a word as she worked to remove the makeup that she regretted taking the trouble to use, and I worked the lotion into her legs, massaging front and back, up and down.

She'd been a college champion swimmer and her legs still showed the years of practice. She had said last fall, when she plunged back into workouts and regular swimming, that she didn't want to lose what had taken so much effort to build. It didn't matter as much to me that she was exercising to get her head back together after losing a mate, than that the workouts let her get a full night's sleep and buoyed up everything she was doing to put my dead father behind her.

Thinking about this while I worked, I hardly noticed I was massaging ever higher on her thighs and she was beginning to twitch. The back of my hand rubbed against the top of her crotch and came away wet about the same time she said, "Oh, that's really nice, can I get more treatment in bed?"

I looked up at her face in the mirror. She was gazing down at me, lips parted and color in her cheeks. I was completely smitten with this lovely creature. Very bad things were happening to my cock, and I wondered how I was going to get from the bathroom floor to the bed without showing how aroused I was.

Then I thought, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe having her son take care of her barely forty year old body and get hard doing it was improving her morale. Her self-image. Her whatever.

She smiled again and said, "Just a sec, I need to do my teeth." She reached for toothbrush and paste while I eased the towel from under her feet, which she put down wide apart and leaned over the basin to rinse out. Her sex was inches from my face, nestled between her legs with almost all of her already light blond hair shaved away. I wondered if she really meant for me to keep her company in the bed, and how I was going to survive the experience.

Wiping her mouth, she turned and looked down at me. Almost giggling, she said, "I haven't had a man's tongue that close to my pussy in an age. Do you get that close to your college girls? If you do, I hope you don't just leave her hanging."

Obviously, someone's morale was improving. I said nothing, but grabbed her thighs in both hands and thrust my tongue up into that wet pink crack as hard as I could. There was lots of moisture and my aim was perfect. Suddenly, Karen had my tongue inches into her cunt, then pulling back and sliding forward to her clit.

She gasped, "Oh my, you don't need much invitation, do you?"

Whatever was going to happen next, I didn't want to be kneeling on the bathroom floor. Standing, I picked her up, flicked off the light, and strode to the bed, pulling back the covers with one hand and dumping my sexy Mom into it. I sat down on the edge, on top of the covers, and kissed her warmly.

"If you tease me about my girlfriends, there will be consequences."

She flirted back, flaring her nostrils and lowering her eyelids, "Maybe you need to pay some attention to the older women in your life. Are you going to get in here with me like I asked?"

I thought to myself, "Keep on like that and you're going to get fucked, lady."

But what I said, in my best dutiful son voice, was, "Would you like something to drink? Some aspirin?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, "That would be really nice. There's fizzy water in the fridge and the aspirin is in the cabinet next to the sink. Why are you being so good to me, I certainly don't deserve it?"

I decided not to answer that but rose, using the towel as camouflage, and walked out of the room and downstairs.

I was succeeding in getting junior to subside, but my mind was racing along with my hormones. A little voice said, "Let her play this out. Probably she will be asleep by the time you get back and you can just turn off the light and let her have a night's rest."

Another little voice said, "Drunk mom and horny son fall into bed together and have sex. How tacky!"

A third little voice said, "She needs to find her way back to a normal life, sex included. If you can help with that, it doesn't matter what you do or don't do in bed."

I got the aspirin, poured both of us a glass of carbonated water, and went back upstairs. At two o'clock in the morning, theological arguments weren't the answer.

She was lying on her back, eyes open and on the doorway when I entered. So much for that guess. The light cast a shadow from her breasts across her tummy, the nipples standing up like little church steeples. I was glad the towel was providing some cover, but it wasn't going to work for long.

I handed her the glass and asked, "Do you really still want me to keep you company tonight?"

She swallowed the aspirin with a big gulp of water, then slid to the middle of the bed, pulling back the covers from the spot where she had been.

After I was in, she handed me the water and said, "Turn out the light, will you?"

I leaned back into the pillow in the dark, my eyes adjusting to the moonlight coming in the windows. Now what, I thought.

I turned to look at her. She was on her side, looking at me, her eyes shining in reflected moonlight.

"You've certainly got me out of my funk. I don't know how you did it, but I'm feeling a lot better than when I came home." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, then pulled my face to her and kissed me harder on the lips.

"Do you mind me teasing you a little... about girls... about sex?" Now she had one leg over mine, with her pussy against my thigh.

I ran my hand down her back, rubbing and pinching her hard behind. I said softly, "I should. I should torture until you scream for mercy. But just tonight, because things didn't go well and I want you to be happy again, I'm giving you a free pass for as much teasing as you want."

Now I had both hands on her ass and was nudging her on top of me, her sex riding on my own hardness. She kissed me again, moving backwards and forwards on the stiff shaft.

She licked and nibbled my ear, then pushed herself up so her cleavage was showing in the moonlight. "Do you suppose... do you suppose ..." She was silent again, not getting any words out. "What I mean is.... Oh god, Eric, would you please make out with me, even if I'm too old for you!"

My hands tousled her hair in the darkness, pulling at her ears and bringing her lips to mine for a hot and hotter kiss.

Then I pulled back and said, "Oh, I don't think so, Mrs. Thompson, we really haven't even been properly introduced."

She jerked, perhaps wondering if I was trying to signal my reluctance to go further.

But without any more words, she raised up on her knees and shoved back behind my cock, grabbing it with her hands, squeezing it hard, working my foreskin back and forth.

I really never had a chance. The anxious cock was hard as steel. She moved it to her sex and dropped smoothly down until we were coupled tightly. A few strokes and she pulled me over on top of her.

Almost hissing, she said, "No more teasing. If you don't fuck me hard and make me come right away, I'm going to cut off something important."

I was lucky that she was full of frustrated sex drive, because both of us came within minutes, shaking, moaning, and producing prodigious amounts of come.

When we had caught our breath, she let me off and grabbed the towel on the floor to mop up.

In a matter of fact tone of voice, she said, "That was just what I needed. I want more, but let's get some sleep." She pushed her back into me and was asleep almost before she finished talking. I wasn't far behind, wondering what tomorrow morning would bring.

Chapter 3 - More Sex and More Stories

Here I was, the morning sun slanting across the bed, with Karen riding my cock for the second time in less than twelve hours, and staring me down with deep brown eyes that held lots of promise.

"You were going to continue with the story?" she said, squeezing me hard.

A quick burst of inspiration arrived just in time. "You need to tell me some things about yourself when you were in school. So I can make the story better."

She blinked, not prepared for this diversion. "What things?"

"When did your sex life start? Once you started, did you like sex? Did you go looking for sex when you hadn't had any for awhile? Did you come a lot? How many men did you have sex with by the time you were twenty-six?"

She stared at me for a moment, then laughed and said, "That's really private information. Even your father didn't know the answers to most of those questions."

I stared back, feeling her gush on my cock, which seemed to be getting bigger and harder in her tight sheath. "But you're going to tell me, aren't you? Because you want to know what happened that night in Paris?"

She looked away and rocked on me, lifting and falling gently, trying to decide whether to open her life, her sex life, to her suddenly grown up son and lover. Then she smiled to herself, turned back to me and said, "Give me a pillow and raise up your knees. This is going to take a while. Do you want me to get off you?"

A new challenge. My hard cock was sending her lots of messages. The messages were being received, attested by the fluid running out of her and down my balls to the bed sheet. But maybe she'd feel better playing out the little drama between us if I held her in my arms, side by side.

"If you like. Have I told you how nice you feel inside? Better than anyone else, even if I'm not supposed to tell you that?"

This time she really did giggle. "Oh god, Eric, you're really really making me feel like a college girl again. Hot, wet, breathless." She fell silent, slipping off me, grabbing her coffee, putting us side to side with her breast hard up against my chest.