Cast of characters
Lucy: a defense attorney who sucks her son Joey's cock
Melissa: an admission officer at a local university, who has had sex with Luke
Helen: a paralegal recently hired to work for Lucy
Luke: a middle school dropout, now enrolled in college after fucking Melissa
(These women also appear in other stories. Only Helen is new here. Everyone is over 18.)
Lucy was ambivalent about her relationship with her son, Joey. On one hand she felt he had become a man - a man in every sense of the word. He could eat pussy and he could fuck with the intensity of a donkey. But he hadn't reached 20 yet and wasn't mature enough to handle his God-given sexual prowess. She agonized over this until she felt she needed a second opinion, maybe even a group consensus.
She called Melissa, who had just returned home from her admissions office at the university. She had helped Luke fill out his college admissions paperwork. Luke, ever appreciative of Melissa's help, had fucked her through four more climaxes. She was coherent to a point. Luke usually left his women babbling incoherently.
Lucy needed to talk to her about Joey, and could wait until Melissa had a drink or two. Melissa asked Lucy to call her after dinner.
To pass the time, Lucy took a long shower. She lathered herself thoroughly, spending a bit more time on her groin area. In fact she felt her pussy would definitely benefit from more loving care. She spent almost a half hour bringing herself to orgasms over and over. Her clit, since she was a teenager, had grown an inch from over stimulation, but she wasn't complaining.
Lucy called Melissa back at 8:30 PM, after dinner. She told Melissa that Joey hadn't been home much lately, that she was worried that he was hanging out with the wrong crowd. He also smelled like cunt. Lucy missed sucking on Joey's cock, and was wondering if he'd found someone new to blow him. Just thinking about Joey's thick dick got her aroused again and she fingered herself to another orgasm. She spent too much time playing with herself, and this was impacting her work.
Melissa suggested Lucy bring it up at their monthly meeting for professional women. Every month they had a guest speaker and since the topic was Motherhood Forever, Luke might even make a good speaker.
All the women in the group had exposure to 'growing boys' in one aspect or another. Luke would be especially appropriate because his background would be relevant for this small group of frustrated women. The meeting was usually for women only, especially those who felt neglected by their husbands. Melissa suggested Luke could come along as her guest. It was unusual, but Lucy was persuaded. She appreciated that Luke's reputation was legendary.
* * *
Being overloaded at work, as well as spending too much time in the ladies' room, Lucy needed to hire a new paralegal. Her caseload was becoming unmanageable and she was missing deadlines set by the court. Judge McBride had warned her about asking to extend deadlines.
She first interviewed, then hired Helen Burgess. Helen had been a senior paralegal in San Francisco at the Rossini law firm. Rossini represented inmates in California prisons - matters dealing with overcrowding, prisoner rights, bad food. There were over 30 prisons in California for men alone. Her job was answering mail, and forwarding suicide letters to the appropriate attorneys. She received huge bags of mail every day, and finally couldn't handle the pressure. It should be noted that the State lost all its cases, so the Rossini firm made a huge amount of money representing inmates.
Helen filtered the emails she forwarded. Some were blatantly sexual, inmates beating off to their letters, and enclosing sperm smears. The inmates knew someone would read them and maybe get a vicarious thrill.
Letters that offered a sexual promise, she answered using only her initials "HB". She sprayed her responses with a delicate cologne so the recipient would know it was a woman writing to him. Her responses were brief, encouraging, yet sensual in a way. In so many words she would say 'I feel your pain'. In spite of company policy, or legal constraints, if you will, she actually wrote back to some of those men. She had no idea what they looked like, so in her mind she created her own ideal man - rugged, muscular, tattooed and lusting after someone exactly like herself.
The inmates described themselves, what they were feeling, and that they were desperate to find a sexy woman to write to. They drew sketches of their sexual apparatus, in most cases cocks depicted as absurdly huge, dripping globs of precum. Penises physically impossible in reality, 16-18 inches long, and as thick as a forearm. But no matter, these sketches had Helen fingering herself to orgasm after orgasm in the ladies room. Her supervisor wondered if she had a bladder infection.
* * *
When Helen left the Rossini firm, she sadly left her pen-pals behind. And she regretfully left San Francisco. She worked for Lucy now as a senior paralegal. She hates working in San Jose.
Lucy invited Helen to join their professional association which met monthly. It was a small but intimate group. These were professional women who had a common goal: break through the glass ceiling while getting off as much as possible.
On the night that Helen was supposed to speak - a Friday night - she was seriously injured by a drunk driver. She was driving onto Rt 101 in Sunnyvale towards San Jose and a woman who had too much to drink ran into her car. Lucy heard the news over the radio as she was driving to the meeting. Lucy was shocked and devastated. Helen was close to death.
What follows is taken from Helen's notes, the talk she was to deliver that evening.
'My name is Helen. I'm 40 years old and divorced. In spite of my impressive experience dealing with incarcerated men, I see myself as a filthy slut. If I were to die today and meet St Peter, he'd say to me, "You're a filthy slut and we have a special place for sluts like you ..."'
But Helen did come close to death that Friday and she did meet St Peter. She found herself outside her body, face to face with St Peter. He appeared in a turtle neck sweater and slacks, looking like an Apple VP. The words 'filthy slut' were echoing off the wall.
St Peter was appraising Helen, with a bemused smile. "But St Peter, don't you look past the sins we committed in life and see only the spirit?"
"That's bullshit. Call me Peter. All of us up here are worthless sacks of shit, except of course, Jesus. He's the only one who knows what the fuck is going on ..."
"Like what? "
"Never mind, we'll get to that later."
Peter looked at the '
