This is an entry into the
"Pink Orchid 2025: Story Event for Women-Centric Erotica."
If you are familiar with my writing, you'll know that I love doing a deep-dive into the minds of many of my characters, and this is no exception. There is sexual activity depicted in this story, but it takes a while to get there. If you can be patient, I think you will be rewarded with a story that will leave you smiling.
The premise for this story was borrowed from a short porn clip. But while porn is good for titillation value, I knew there was a deeper story that needed to be told. This story is better than it would have been, thanks to the suggestions given to me by Literotica authors @Omenainen, who is also the creator of this event, and @elizaloo. I am indebted to their support!
It was Monday at 9:55 a.m. I had taken the day off as a postal worker for the United States Postal Service so that I could be at the offices of a lawyer I'd never met. I was here because this lawyer was about to reveal the contents of my mother's will. Because my mother and I had not had any contact with each other over the past five years, I was surprised that there was a reason for me to be here. But the lawyer had insisted that I attend, so here I was.
Right at 10:00 a.m., the phone on the receptionist's desk buzzed. She answered it, calmly saying, "Yes, she's here," and then put the phone down. Looking at me, she said, "Ms. Roberts, you may go in now."
I stood, brushed out imaginary wrinkles from my slacks, and approached as the receptionist opened the door. I stepped inside the private office of Amanda Rhodes, Attorney at Law. She directed me to sit in a chair in front of her desk. There was nobody else present - this meeting was to be between her and I.
She gave me time to get comfortable in the chair, but that wasn't going to happen. I really didn't want to be here, and I really didn't think there was anything that she was going to tell me that would make it worth my while. I was only here because she had practically insisted I be here. She didn't offer any clues as to why my presence was needed. I suppose a part of me might have been interested to see what my mother had to say about me in her will, but I didn't really think it would be anything positive.
Amanda Rhodes began. "Good morning, Ms. Roberts. Thank you for coming. Did you bring two forms of proper identification? It's not that we don't trust you. It's just that we need to make sure you are indeed Samantha Roberts that is mentioned in the will of Belinda Roberts."
My skin crawled as I heard my mother's name. I fished into my pocketbook and retrieved my social security card and my drivers' license. Ms. Rhodes took them and examined them against what I assumed was the will. Satisfied that I was indeed Samantha Roberts, she returned the cards to me.
As I put them back in my pocketbook, she began speaking. "As you know, we are here for the reading of the last will and testament of Belinda Anne Roberts, whom you know as your mother. We can do this in one of two ways, Ms. Roberts. You will be given a copy of the will before you leave today. If you would like, I can read it word for word out loud to you right now. Or to save time, I can explain what is in the contents of the will, and let you read it later. Which would be your preference?"
I knew the answer immediately - I wanted to be out of there and get on with my life. "Give me a copy and summarize it now, please."
"Very well, Ms. Roberts. As you know, your mother was killed in a traffic accident on March 24, 2024. As the sole apparent heir, you needed to be here for this reading of her will, especially considering that she has left something for you that will require your immediate attention."
I dreaded hearing that. It could not be something good. Our falling out had not been pretty at all, and over the past five years, neither of us had tried to repair the rift between us. So, hearing that she left me something requiring my immediate attention was not good news.
Ms. Rhodes continued. "Basically, her will boils down to this. Your mother had amassed a tidy little nest egg over the years. Her wishes are that all personal property worth any monetary value will be bequeathed to the Martin Training Academy in Chicago, Illinois. That will include her house and her car."
I had no idea what the Martin Training Academy was, or why she felt it necessary to leave money for them. It certainly wasn't something we had discussed.
"She has also directed that her clothing and other personal belongings be given to the charities of my choice. Our standard practice when we get a will with this stipulation is that we donate these to an organization such as Goodwill or the Salvation Army. Do you have a preference as to who receives her belongings?"
I could not have cared less who received her stuff. I was just glad I didn't have to deal with it. "I don't have a preference - I'll leave that up to you." It seemed simple, and it was looking like my time in this office was about to end without me ending up with something I did not want.
"Very good, Ms. Roberts. There is one more item, and then we will be done. I think I prefer to read this part instead of summarizing if you don't mind."
Ugh, that didn't sound good. I nodded to her, and she continued.
"To my daughter Samantha Anne Roberts, I leave my most prized possession, my pet. In addition, I leave funds available for Samantha Anne Roberts to maintain possession of my pet for a period of five years. If she chooses to forfeit the pet, the funds will go to the new owner."
I knew nothing about my mother having a pet. We'd certainly never had a pet when she was raising me, and I had no desire to have a pet now. Dogs were okay, but taking care of one wasn't easy, especially since I worked all day, and I was certain the Post Office frowned on its employees bringing dogs to work. And if it was a cat...well, let's just say that I don't understand why anyone would own a cat. I certainly didn't see any reason to.
But apparently I was going to own something. I looked up at Ms. Rhodes, who was awaiting me to acknowledge her before she proceeded.
"There's something else, Ms. Roberts. A codicil of the will is a hand-written letter she has written to you. I need you to read it now."
She handed me the letter. In handwriting I somewhat recognized, I began to read.
'Samantha, I know this is a shock to you, and it's something you didn't know about me. I also know that we have not spoken to each other in a couple of years