Lew Unleashed...or The Other Side Now
(Author's note: I am still stunned by the response this story has gotten. And I apologize for the wait between installments but I'm grinding them out as fast as I can. I hope this chapter answers a lot of questions readers have had -or maybe sparks some more. If you're still interested, in some ways what I think is the best part of the story is still coming.
DQS1)
Thursday July 7, 2005
My name is William Maitland. I'm an Assistant State Attorney in Jacksonville, Florida, the Chief Assistant in fact although there are two other Assistants under State Attorney Austin Edwards who are level with me on the organizational chart.
I thought I was happily married to the gorgeous, big breasted and long-legged Debbie Bascomb who was helping me raise our teenage daughter and son, when she made a four-word Freudian slip that wrecked our marriage. My suspicions roused, I used a spy program to go back and check on her emails for the past six months and learned that she was falling in love with a young stud assistant professor at UNF, where she was also employed as a Professor of Business.
She wound up falling into his bed, filing for divorce from me and tossing our lives together into the trash. Now I'm working longer and harder than I ever did, which was one of the main reasons she implied our marriage had gone on the rocks, exercising and working with a boxing coach friend to rehabilitate a flabby midsection and a prematurely middle-aged body. Why I don't know, because I can't even work up a respectable hard-on.
As I prepare for a particularly unpleasant court case, Debbie is driving me crazy with alimony (now sometimes they call it maintenance but it will always be alimony to me) demands and I have very nervously unleashed a pit-bull friend of mine named Lew Walters to wield the previously hidden e-mails in an attempt to blackmail her into giving me the kind of divorce I want.
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Thursday July 7, 2005 -- 12:30 p.m.
The phone rang as she was getting ready to leave her office to go to her next class. She had tried calling Doug twice but he wasn't answering. Since he had caller ID, it was pretty obvious he didn't want to take her calls. How in the hell had she wound up getting the cold shoulder from the man who was the father of her children, whom she was divorcing, and the man who had swept her off her feet and given her the best sex she'd had in years?
If there was one thing in this world she would have said would NEVER happen, it would be to get the cold shoulder from the two most important men in her life. Or any man, for that matter. She glanced down and took in the bulge of her breasts in her blouse and shook her head. She had never had trouble finding or getting men.
Even in the years when she'd been happily married, she'd always known if she crooked her little finger at a guy he'd be at her feet panting like a puppy. Men were so damned simple in a way. No matter how old or professional or respectable they were, they were all just walking penises. Unbutton a few buttons, show a little titty, and they all turned to mush.
She'd flirted at parties, let a few of them pet or grab her ass, but it was never serious. Bill had been what she wanted then and she just flirted to remember what it was like to have that kind of power over men. Of course that was before he got so damned flabby and MIDDLE-AGED.
She got angry all over again. The sorry bastard had the nerve to be angry at her when he'd all but shoved her into another man's bed. He'd never know about all the parties, the campus events, where tall, slim men danced with her and rubbed their hard cocks all over her pussy, felt her breasts and left her so wet she had to retreat into bathrooms to finger herself to quick, messy climaxes.
It would have been so damned easy to slip out to cars, or into the shadows, lower her panties and let them pound her into unending orgasms. But she hadn't. She'd been the good wife. She'd never tell her loving husband about the men she'd let get her hot and wet and then denied sex to.
How could she? She could control herself, but she couldn't control how men reacted to her. If she had complained to Bill every time a man touched her inappropriately, grabbed her ass, tickled her titty to feel her nipple harden suddenly, they would have had to stop going out, have no social life, and Bill would probably be in jail after killing somebody.
And she couldn't tell Bill that men touched and petted her because, while she could tell Bill she had never let another man have her, it wasn't the kind of thing you could brag about.
Of course, some of her friends would have been scandalized, but they were the homely, flat-chested women that men weren't going to pursue with flattery and presents and charm and insinuations of how big their dicks were. They could afford to be virtuous, because nobody but their husbands wanted them. She was the kind of woman men had always wanted, and she couldn't help that. She was made that way.
She had caller ID too and when she saw who was on the other end of the line, she picked up and said, "Hi, Lew. Has your client come to his senses and decided to avoid a nasty court fight and give me what I'm asking."
"Hi, Debbie. We do need to talk. Something has come up about the case. I think we can get these matters straightened out and move the divorce along. Could you meet me at Linder's office today at 5?"
"I have a class that doesn't end until 4 p.m. and I don't think I can make it in to Joyce's office by 5 p.m."
"This is fairly important. Couldn't you cancel one afternoon class or get someone to cover for you."
"It's that important?"
"Yeah, Debbie, I think so."
"And it will-"
"I think it will make things much easier for both you and Bill."
At five minutes past five she was pulling into the parking lot at Linder and Howe PA in downtown Jacksonville about a half mile from the courthouse complex. There were bunches of legal offices clustered in this neighborhood, far enough away from the courthouse to allow privacy and better parking and close enough to be there in a couple of minutes.
As she slid out of her 2010 Nissan 370Z, she smoothed her skirt down and took a deep breath. Her breasts swelled and just the contact with the fabric caused her nipples to pop up. Men loved them. They stood out an inch high from the three-inch wide pebbly areola, thick as pencil erasers. Men couldn't' resist sucking on them. She wondered sometimes if every man in America had been weaned from the tit too early. She had left her bra discretely folded n her glove compartment.
As she walked in Joyce was waiting for her. Joyce was a slender brunette, five-eight with a nice ass and relatively small breasts. Of course, Debbie thought with a tiny twinge of conceit, almost every woman had relatively small breasts when measured up against hers. But she had been nice, and supportive.
Joyce took one look at her and smiled.
"And what is the effect we were going for here, girlfriend?"
Debbie took a depth breath, pushing her chest out and making the nipples pop up noticeably.
"Lew is a nice guy, and married, but it never hurts to dazzle them a little bit, whether it's an academic meeting or a divorce hearing."
Joyce smiled again.
"You planning on trying for that at the divorce hearing before the judge?"
"We do have a male judge, right?"
"I feel sorry for your ex."
Joyce led her into a small conference room and as Debbie was sitting down asked if she wanted coffee or a soft drink?
"Just a bottle of water, please. Too much coffee keeps me awake at night and every damned ounce of non-diet soft drink adds about a pound to my ass. I have to spend about an hour at the gym for every regular soft drink I consume."
Joyce looked her over in a comfortably non-sexual way and said, "Well, it's obviously paid off. I'll get you that water and Lew just called and said he was about five minutes away."
While Joyce was out Debbie checked her cell phone, but no messages from Doug. Shit, why did he have to complicate things. It was just simple, great sex. His damned dick...but she stopped herself. She could feel herself begin to moisten up and she didn't want to be hot and bothered when she was meeting with Lew.
No, not with Lew. Why the hell hadn't Bill hired somebody else. Lew was young, tall, good looking but it was more than that. He was funny and smart and conceited, and that made him even more attractive. And worse of all, dammit, her tits and her body had never gotten to him.
It was stupid and it was high school, but when Mona was around, dark haired, small breasted (but weren't they all), swivel hipped Mona, there was no other woman in the room for Lew. Debbie had worn low cut blouses a few times when Lew and Mona had visited, and guys always, always, ALWAYS looked down into the valley and if they could, got hard. Lew never even glanced that way.
It was so stupid because she hadn't decided to leave Bill at that time and she wasn't interested in Lew that way. It was just....dammit, guys were supposed to stare and get erections. She wasn't used to being ignored. It wasn't natural.
Lew was standing at the door, sandy haired and with a slight smile on his face, a briefcase in his hand. He was dressed for the heat, in a lightweight, pale gray business suit and he was still sweating.
She took a deep breath to expand her rib cage, stood so her breasts would sway and jiggle gently with the motion, and smiled at him. She knew her nipples were sticking out like some whore looking for action. So much the better.
"Hi, Lew. This is the first time we've gotten together, in the flesh, in how long? A year? You're looking good."
He did a quick survey of her with eyes and, satisfyingly, his eyes lingered for a moment longer than was necessary on her nipples. She drew in a quick breath that made them dance on her rib cage but he just completed his once-over and then grinned.
Shit, he didn't even need to add the words to know what he was thinking, but he put his thoughts into words for her.
"I am flattered, Debbie. You took your bra off just for me? I thought you'd save the heavy artillery for the judge."
She couldn't help grinning back at him. He was a likeable guy.
"What can I say. If you got 'em, flaunt 'em."
Joyce stepped in behind them with a bottled water she handed to Debbie and a mug of something steaming.
"You take yours black with sugar, right Lew. Black and sweet I think you say."
"That mind of yours is an iron trap, Joyce. You're going to make some man a fine partner some day."
"I know," she said looking down at the floor for a second as she added, "I have a lot of fine qualities, not all of which are immediately visible."
