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“In conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury, you owe it to our society to find the defendant guilty of all charges.” His footsteps echoed in the empty courtroom. He imagined the jury’s reactions as he spoke. The elderly black woman, the overweight Hispanic man…the redhead. He could see her as she listened intently to his arguments. All week long, her eyes followed him. Those penetrating eyes. He pictured the way she absentmindedly ran her finger along her ruby lips. He thought about the swell of her breasts, just barely revealed by her neckline. He shook his head and sighed sharply. He had a closing argument to concentrate on and what’s more, she was a member of the jury. Off limits to him in every sense of the word.
Suddenly, he heard another set of footsteps behind him. He had not heard the door open and he whirled to find himself face to face with the redhead.
“You were very convincing this week,” she breathed as she pushed open the polished wood gate and walked towards him, running her graceful fingers along the long table where he had sat most of the week. He found himself drawn to her, caught staring more than a few times during the week.
“Ma’am. You shouldn’t be here. We could both get in a lot of trouble.”
She strolled up to him, her full lips pouting and her eyes piercing. Her hands glided over the smooth black fabric of his tailored jacket, smoothing the cloth out over his broad chest, then sliding over his wide shoulders. She ran the back of her hand along his angular jaw line, feeling his day’s worth of stubble rough against her porcelain skin.
“That’s the point. You want trouble just as much as I do, don’t you, counselor?” Her body was pressing against him now. He could feel the hard wooden rail surrounding the juror’s box against his back and her soft curves pressing at his front. Her red hair fell in fiery cascades over the fair skin of her cheeks, her potent eyes drawing him in.
Her hands slid inside his suit jacket. He brought up his hands to push her away, but as soon as he touched bahis firmaları her, his arms encircled her. They locked in a fevered embrace, her scent intoxicating him, as his lips traced across the supple skin of her neck, then along her jaw line and finally finding her ripe lips. She tasted better than he’d imagined. He been so ashamed when he’d woken in the middle of the night, sweat soaked and fully aroused with thoughts of the redheaded juror on his mind. He brought himself to intense orgasm imagining her naked form, bathed in moonlight, making love to him. The next day in court, he could not even look her in the eye. Now she was wrapped in his arms, the object of his intense desire and potential downfall.
She pushed his jacket over his shoulders, as they continued to kiss. Her fingers found the buttons on his vest and fumbled to undo them. He cradled her head as they kissed. He could not get enough of her taste. Soon the jacket and the vest were slung over the railing, and she was working at his necktie. She pulled at the knot at his neck and loosened it, then began to unbutton his shirt. When she reached his belt, she pulled out his shirttails. She lightly kissed his bare chest, her eager hands undoing his belt, as his chest hair tickled her face. She worked his zipper and then his pants were around his ankles.
She knelt in front of him, a wanton look in her green eyes. His arousal was evident, straining at the fabric of his black boxer briefs. She lightly kissed the bulge as she hooked her fingers in the waistband. She slowly pulled his briefs down to reveal his swollen member. Her lips lightly grazed him and sent a shiver through his body. She could feel his soft, musky pubic hairs brush against the tip of her nose. Her hot breath washed over his manhood and her hand ran over the tensing muscles in his thighs. Her tongue ran along the length of him leaving a glistening trail behind. She swirled her tongue around the spongy head and then worked her way back down the shaft, covering every rigid, veiny inch of him. He moaned loudly, kaçak iddaa his hands running through her crimson hair. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her urgently, tasting himself on her lips. His firm hands were running over her ample bosom, pinching at her hardening nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse. He spun her around so that her back was against the railing now. His fingers deftly worked the buttons on her blouse and soon her generous breasts were the focus of his attention. She could feel his strong hands cradling their swell. His thorough tongue savored her wanting nipples. His hand slowly slid up her thigh and beneath her skirt. He could feel her sex pulsing through the silky material of her damp panties.
His touch sent a surge of passionate fire through her veins. She whimpered as his confident hands worked her body. His hand slid beneath her panties and over her smooth mound. He ran a finger along the length of her sex and marveled at how wet she was. She began to moan now and he kissed her suddenly, passionately to muffle her cries. She was grinding herself against his probing hand. Her breasts swelled with each gasping breath, her nipples still slick with his saliva.
“Fuck me, counselor,” she breathed into his ear. “Fuck me right now.”
He hadn’t intended on this encounter going that far, but now he was powerless to deny her plea. He needed to be inside her as much as she needed him there. He turned her around and slid her skirt up over her ass, taking a moment to caress its pliant flesh. Her skin burned in trails of rosy red behind his roving hands. She felt his penis, insistent at her opening, and then, slowly, purposefully, he slid inside, her warmth enveloping him inch by inch. His hands, slightly rough textured for a lawyer, griped her behind as he began to move inside her faster. She clutched the hard wooden railing as she pressed back against his driving hips. The sensation of him filling her sent constant waves of pleasure through her body. She whimpered loudly and he groaned in reply.
She could kaçak bahis feel his shirttails falling against her hips in rhythm with his thrusts. The end of his loosened tie traced across her back. His hands were on her shoulders now, pulling her towards him so he could go deeper inside her. Getting caught was now the last thing on his mind. He needed to cum inside her. To fill her even more than he had. He wanted her to feel his seed erupt into her and cause her to loose control in an orgasmic wave of pleasure. He was nearly there and he could sense that she was as well. With a powerful, feral groan he thrust-
The droning electronic whine of the alarm clock jerked him awake. He was covered in sweat and thick streams of pearly semen ran in rivulets down his still twitching, engorged member. He shook his head and with a heavy sigh, he got up to go clean himself off. He eyed himself suspiciously in the bathroom mirror, questioning his sanity.
“Get it together, man. Closing arguments today. You’ve gotta keep your mind on the trial.”
She was there in the front row as always. He could not keep his eyes of her, but somehow he managed to deliver his closing argument without incident, though he prayed that the judge and the rest of the courtroom read his eye contact with her simply as a lawyer trying to win over a juror. The verdict came back quite quickly. He rushed back to the courtroom, forsaking his half-eaten bagel and still smoking cup of coffee. He won. The jury found the defendant guilty. As the foreman read the verdict, he imagined it was her reading it. Her soft voice speaking directly to him.
When all the extracurriculars where over, he gathered up his briefcase and headed to the courthouse elevator. Just as the door was sliding shut, a soft voice called for him to hold it. The redheaded juror stepped into the elevator and smiled warmly at him. Having had to run for the elevator, she was breathing heavily. She paused a moment and he could only watch her bosoms heaving tantalizingly before him.
“Thank you,” she managed.
“You’re welcome,” he replied sheepishly. Then she turned and faced him with those piercing green eyes.
“You were very convincing this week, counselor.” She extended a graceful hand. “My name’s Tina.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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