All in the Family

Disclaimers: As with most of my stories, THIS STORT IS FICTIONAL!! Let it be known, I describe some legal proceedings, and they pertain to the law ACCORDING TO ME. Be forewarned. This story could be in several categories. It could have been in interracial, or romance, but you see where it's being placed. Any sexual stuff is done by people over 18 years of age.

Do you resemble either of your parents? That should be an easy question. Either you do, or you don't

Oh, did I forget some information? Sorry about that. I'm Tameka Hawkins, a thirty-three year old lawyer. I've been practicing law for ten years, and after just over seven years in the corporate law section, have taken an interest in helping wrongfully convicted people get some semblance of justice.

Since some of you faithful readers are very good at math, yes, I graduated college at twenty, and Seattle University law school at twenty-three.

If you couldn't guess by my name, I'm a fairly large black woman. Not that my name denotes my size. I am just over 5'11", and I'm not a skinny minney. I've never been mistaken for a swimsuit model.

With the support of my parents, Randell and Rhonda Hawkins, I was fairly well adjusted for my age, considering my size..

It must have been the second or third grade, when some of my friends were noticing that I wasn't nearly as dark as either of my folks.

When I asked, one day, after they both came home from work, they decided that I was old enough to learn that I'd been adopted, at birth.

I knew a few kids in school who were adopted, so I didn't think any more about it. I always knew I was loved, and figured that might have been one of the reasons I was an only child.

Going through high school with a minimum of dates, did make me a bit weary of the boys brave enough to ask me out on dates. Most of the white guys just couldn't be bothered. A few of the black guys that did ask me out, thought they were doing me a favor by doing that.

I do admit there were just one or two guys I thought were OK, but they turned out to be so full of themselves it wasn't worth hearing how great they thought they were.

Going to Seattle U for my undergraduate studies, I did start to date, but was very selective. It didn't matter the color of his skin, or if he wasn't as tall as me, what mattered the most was if he was a caring

person, or not.

Being a year younger than most of my classmates, I went through the majority of my freshman year nearly dateless, and celibate.

Toward the end of my Freshman year, I did date the same guy a few times, and I almost thought he'd be the one I'd give my virginity to. On our third date, after a very hot and heavy makeout session, he started undressing me, but when I whispered about a condom, he made the statement that he didn't believe in them.

It was all I could do to roll away from him, jump up from the bed, grabbing my clothes and ordering him out of my dorm room.

"If you think I'm ready to raise a child, you're sadly mistaken!" I yelled.

"Jesus, Tameka, I'd have pulled out in time."

"If you think I believe that crock of shit, Charles, you're dumber than a stump."

I guess word got around campus, and my dating life nearly ground to a halt.

I would have been lost without my studies, plus my life-long love of music.

I'm guessing it didn't come from my parents, because neither of them were into music, the way I was.

Since I'd figured one of my biological parents could have been white, it got me thinking. I did some research, but only had the Hawkins name to go by, and that was my adopted parents name.

I learned there were two, white cousins, in the mid 50's to late 60's, with the last name of Hawkins, but but quickly ruled out both Ronnie and Dale Hawkins. Both sang hillbilly rock and roll.

I then found three black singers of note, with the last name of Hawkins.

First, the late Jay Hawkins, who was known as 'Screamin' Jay Hawkins, What I read about him let me know that on-stage, he was quite a character, with his wild clothes, and his near operatic voice.

Next, I found the late Edwin Hawkins, a gospel singer.

Last, and certainly not least, the late Jamesetta Hawkins, who sang under the name Etta James.

Both my parents assured me, that all of these fine singers were not related to me.

Back to my dating life. Just as my freshman year was ending, I started thinking about one of the guys I'd been studying with for about four months.

Fred Green, a year or two older than me, and about as quiet a young man as I'd ever known. We had been studying together for a few months, when he asked if we could go to dinner, or a movie together.

I thought about it, and told him that would be a great idea. When we got up from our table, he leaned over and gave me a very soft kiss. This brought a broad smile to my face, and started me thinking about our upcoming date.

Fred was a bit taller than me, on the thin side, and just about as light skinned black as I was.

The following Friday night, we walked to a nearby restaurant, and had a very nice dinner. I could tell he was nervous, all during dinner, so I finally whispered to him, "are you a virgin, too?"

This caused us both to laugh a bit, as he nodded his head.

"This could be interesting, Tameka," he said, softly.

"Will you come back to my dorm room, I don't have a roommate?"

"OK, I guess. I just want you to know that I'm very nervous."

Smiling, I told him this was for us just to get to know each other a bit better.

Walking back to my dorm, hand in hand, he seemed a bit more relaxed. Meanwhile, my heart was racing a mile a minute.

Getting to my room, we just stood inside the door for a few minutes, before I gently placed my hands on his face and kissed him as gently as I knew how.

He cautiously put his arms around me, with his hands holding my rounded butt cheeks. Giving them a little squeeze, as he kissed me again, I could start to feel his growing manhood pressing into me.

Moving towards my bed, we were taking each others clothes off. As we fell onto my bed, we just started hugging each other, and he started softly kissing both breasts. He was very gentle, licking each nipple. One of my hands found his growing manhood and started rubbing up and down, very slowly.

Just as I was about to say the word condom, one appeared, and he tore open the wrapper. Helping him getting where it would do the most good, he eased my legs open, and very gently pushed his solid six inches inside of me.

After just a minimal amount of pain, my body felt like I was inside a blast furnace. We just couldn't wait, and both started fucking like rabbits.

Needless to say, we both exploded like the hottest sunspots in history. He collapsed on top of me, then quickly rolled off, letting us both try to catch our breath.

"God damn, Fred, that was amazing!"

"Don't be mad, Tameka, but I brought more condoms," he said with a mile wide grin.

After a minimum of clean-up, he started kissing every inch of my body. With one major exception. When his kisses went down from my boobs, to my stomach, he stopped and came back up.

Mind you, his attention to my very excited nipples was amazing, but I did want to experience his tongue between my thighs.

With just a bit more kissing, with a bit of tongue, this time, another condom appeared, and we were fucking, again.

This time, it was slow and very sensual.

His cock seemed to have grown another inch, or two. At least that's what it felt like to me.

This time, we both were learning as we went along, touching most parts of my body, and me soft rubbing his growing manhood. When I bent down, putting the head of his cock in my mouth, he started to move my head off my intended target.

I looked up and asked what the problem was, and what he replied astonished me.

"My dad told me only whores did that sort of thing."

To say I was hurt didn't come close to how I felt.

Talk about a mood killer.

"Seriously, Fred? Just because I want to suck on your cock, you're going to label me a whore?"

After a very noticeable pause, I stood up, next to where he was still laying on my bed, and told him he'd better leave.

After he left, I just sat on my bed in a daze, wondering how I could have misjudged this young man so badly.

All throughout the rest of the school year, I'd see him around campus, with him just nodding, and we never said another word to each other.

At least he didn't use my 'failing' against me, by keeping his mouth shut.

During my sophomore year, I dated a little, and actually did wind up in either his or my bed. Nothing to shout about, but it gave me a wide range of choices.

Yes, I did sleep with a white guy, but that ended quickly, when I found out that he only wanted to brag to some of his buddies about fucking a black girl.

During my third and final year of college, and having my acceptance to law school, I did make the decision to go onto a very reliable birth control method.

Was it my imagination, or did this step cause my dating life to grind to a halt? I never let it be known about my birth control decision, but dating just seemed to disappear.

Not sure, but my final year of college did seem to be a bit dry, in the dating arena.

Oh, well, I didn't come to college to find lovers, or at least that's how I rationalized my status to myself.

During law school, I was kept so busy studying, that my dating life was secondary to becoming the best lawyer possible.

Yes, I did have a few second or even third dates, but even if they wound up in bed, I just couldn't find the chemistry that I thought I had with Fred Green.

After passing the State Bar Exam, I was hired by a mid-sized law firm in downtown Seattle. I seemed to find my early calling in the corporate division, and thrived there.

I guess it was all of those business classes I'd excelled in that gave me a leg up in this work.

When I started getting interested in helping the unjustly accused, I really found the true meaning of upholding the law.

One Monday morning, I was told I had a potential client who had a late morning appointment.

Jerry and Glory Martin, brother and sister, came into my office and started telling me the story of their brother.

It seems as if their older brother, David, was jailed for rape, about thirty years previously. He and the rest of his family strongly denied the allegation of rape.

What took place really got my attention. David, then an eighteen year old black man, was accused of raping Marilyn Edwards, then a sixteen year old white girl. Even though the evidence was very circumstantial, he was convicted and sentanced to twenty-five years in the state prison.

Sometime around his tenth or eleventh year, he hung himself in his cell.

"You see, Ms Hawkins, if he wasn't wrongly convicted, he'd still be alive", they both said.

"May I ask why you've waited so long to do anything about this?"

"It's not as if we haven't tried, but several other attorneys we've contacted, over the years, have just blown us off."

"Let me do some background checking on this Marilyn Edwards, and get back to you.

When I started checking the history of this case, here is what I found.

Marilyn Edwards, a sixteen year old high school girl, accused this David Martin of rape. The trial and sentencing took nearly a year, before Martin was convicted, and sent to prison.

When I did some further checking, I found the Edwards family was thought to be on the racist side. I also found out this supposed rape resulted in a child being born.

I did a search on some of the witnesses who testified on her behalf, and tried to contact them. Not an easy task, considering this event happened thirty years previously.

I did find a married couple, both of whom were classmates with Ms Edwards. Finally, they agreed to talk with me.

"When this happened, Marilyn found out she was pregnant, and her parents blew up, since they both were the epitome of racist bigots," they both said.

They continued by telling me that her father was so mad, he threatened to get his gun and shoot that Martin boy. That's when this rape story was born. Even though she was nearly three months along, the police never questioned the time lapse.

"So, do you think she was raped?" I asked.

"Not a chance. She just wanted to defy her father. She even bragged to one of her friends how 'big' David was, if you get my drift"

This information convinced me to advance this case, no matter where it led me.

As I was preparing my case, my parents called me to come over for a Sunday dinner, as there was something they wanted to tell me.

While we were eating, my father quietly told me that the adoption agency they had dealt with, all those years ago, had a request from a college-age person, who had a DNA result telling him he could have a sibling.

Holy shit, I thought. Did I have a half brother, or sister? In the back of my mind, I'd given this possibility some thought, but only in passing.

Back to this case, at hand.

I filed a lawsuit for David Martin's siblings, against one Marilyn Edwards. Citing her false rape accusation, resulting in David's death. We were contending that if this racist bitch hadn't wrongfully told the court she was raped, David wouldn't have hung himself in jail.

We had a meeting set up, two weeks after our suit was filed.

Getting to her lawyers' office, I finally got to see this evil person, for the first time.

I knew a little about the lawyers representing her, but all I'd ever heard was on the positive side.

Getting started, I introduced myself, and saw this Marilyn Edwards for the first time. Even though I knew her to be in her mid to late 40's, she looked in her 60's. Plain looking, graying hair, in a style from years gone by.

"Let me start by telling you that I've been retained by a brother and sister, on behalf of their older brother, David Martin. This man, Mr. Martin, was serving a twenty-five year prison term, for the crime of rape, to which he always maintained his innocence."

"Since Ms. Edwards was the individual who pressed this charge, I fully intend to prove she fabricated this crime when she discovered she was pregnant. To begin with, I'm going to ask the judge to order a DNA sample be taken, so we can compare it to the child I will prove was the result of consentual sex that Ms Edwards readily agreed to."

"First off, Ms Hawkins, we will never stipulate to any DNA test, until we know the identity of this supposed child, who must be in his or her early thirties, buy now," her lead attorney said.

Smiling, I stood up, looked this wretched piece of shit in her eye, and grinned.

"That would be me, so lets cut the bullshit, and state the fact that her parents concocted this rape story because she had sex with a black boy. Plain and simple."

The stunned expression on Edward's face told a very scary story.

Had she been finally caught in the lie her father concocted all those years ago?

Was it her biological child who contacted that adoption agency?

I started thinking that this trial could become very interesting.

With me finding out both her parents were still living, I amended our lawsuit to include them.

I took great joy in serving both Michael and Janet Edwards their papers in the fancy retirement home, they were living in.

As I approached them both, I could tell by their facial expression, that their daughter had told them about this lawsuit.

"Michael and Janet Edwards, you've been served."

My assistant, also a black woman, snapped a picture, verifying they had been served.

All during the time leading up to these proceedings, my parents cautioned me about learning things I might not want to know.

About a week after filing our suit, and serving the elder Edwards their suit, I was told I had a visitor, who didn't have an appointment.

I went out to the lobby to see a young man, maybe twenty years old, or so, standing a good 6'3", on the solid side.

"Ms. Hawkins, my name is Steven Barton, and I'd like to talk to you, if I may."

"If this has anything to do with this lawsuit, I can't talk to you about it. I hope you understand."

"No, I actually hope you win your suit, because my mother and grandparents are horrible people. All my life I've heard nothing but how inferior people of color are to 'us white folks'. I'm tired of that crap."

I decided to listen to what this young man had to say, and, wow, did he say quite a lot.

It seems as if his father, Lance Barton, finally had enough of the Edwards family diatribe, and divorced Marilyn, when Steven was just five years old. Lance owned his own plumbing supply business, and hired people for what they knew, not the color of their skin.

At least, he fully supported Steven, and was paying all his college fees, so he could finish, and hopefully become a research scientist, trying to find cures to all the world's diseases.

I did find out, that this well spoken young man had just turned twenty, and was starting his third year at the University of Washington, majoring in molecular biology.

We wound up talking for over an hour, when he finally brought up the very real possibility of us being half brother and sister.

"Before you say anything, Ms. Hawkins, I'm fairly certain of this through the DNA test I've taken, along with the genealogy that was included."

"And you're not embarrassed about having a black sister?"

"Not in the least, as a matter of fact, my dad is married to a black woman, and I have three other siblings who are black."

As he got up to leave, he quietly asked if he could give me a hug.

I couldn't decide if I should, so he backed off, and told me he understood.

As it turned out, we met three more times, just talking about our lives.

As our last meeting ended, Steven moved up to me and gave me a nice hug. When I looked up, just a bit, he leaned in and gave me a nice, soft kiss.

I was a little surprised, but it did feel really nice. I thought it was cute, that his face was beet red. I also thought I felt a certain part of his anatomy reacting to our light kiss.

"Please, Ms Hawkins, I'm so sorry," as he backed away from me.

"Steven, if your dick has that reaction, hugging me, I think you can call me Tameka," I replied, think how cute he was blushing, with his dick coming to life.

This also got me thinking how non-existant my love life had been, for quite a while. Then reality kicked in. Is this quiet young man my half-brother? Do we share a very racist bitch as our mother? All this running through my mind, with me always considering Rhonda Hawkins as my mother. Now and forever.

In the ensuing weeks, I was putting my case together, not only to have this rape conviction removed from the late David Martin's record, but to add a wrongful prosecution charge against all three Edwards family members.

I got a very interesting phone call, about two weeks later, from one Orville Breckenridge, one of my law professors at Seattle U.

"Let me tell you right off the bat, Tameka, that Michael and Janet Edwards are very old friends of mine, and since you are the lead counsel on this suit, I won't be representing them, but one of my partners will be. But I will be advising them, in some instances."

"Its really great to hear from you, Professer Breckenridge. I hope you realize why I'm persuing this matter."

"Please, Tameka, with your success, call me Orville, and your career has made me very proud to have been some influence on you."

"I know you can't answer, but I think all three of the Edwards' are guilty of a great injustice."

"I know you will do what is right for your clients, I'm sure of that, so let the chips fall where they may. I wish you all the success in the world."

To say I was a little more pumped after this conversation goes without saying. I just couldn't wait for our pre-trial hearing in another ten days.