Legal Libido
This short story is part of a collection I published called Seven sensual short stories, sure to sully someone’s skivvies if you like it make sure to give the other six a try.Always happy to receive comments on my writing if you wish to contact me I am active on Twitter
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It was 8:15 on a Saturday morning in beautiful Canada, where the one percent were doing what they always do—arguing about dividing assets.
In this charming case, it was between Frank McGookie and his darling wife for the last 17 years, or should we say soon to be ex-wife, Sharlet Dunzberry. She, of course, had already legally switched her name back, despite meeting today in one of the family office buildings they owned together where normally they would be plotting how to take over the butt wiping market. After all, the pride and joy of the family was the sanitary wipe business that sold compostable, environmentally friendly butt hole wipes for adults in a variety of flavors.
Today, they were joined with a moderator and in her own words, “a filthy old dog and his law slut.” Her own lawyer—a balding, pot-bellied Ted—held the door open for her.
“Thank you all for being here today,” the moderator said as he looked at the opposing parties in the eyes as they had not done so to each other for quite some time.
“Today, we are here to discuss the division of Mr. McGookie and Ms. Dunzberry’s combined assets.”
“Hardly,” Frank scoffed, ruffling his bushy white mustache in disagreement. “Everything that is mentioned I own. I bought it with my hard-earned money, she didn’t work at all!”
“To be clear, Mr. McGookie, your referring to Ms. Dunzberry’s lack of employment as she was a stay at home mother,” Ted clarified.
“But of course, you ninny!”
“May I ask how much you value your children?”
“…I can’t put a price on them.”
“Exactly. So, Ms. Dunzberry’s countless years of raising your children should not be discredited. You even mentioned, in your written testimonies, how little time you had spent at home with them.”
Defeated, Frank sat a poker face, hiding his greatest fears of losing everything, especially his children.
“All right, if everyone’s settled, we shall discuss the assets in order of importance to the family’s lives, so we are starting with vehicles,” the moderator said.
“I’m keeping the charger,” Frank commanded, definitely against any kind of order the others were attempting to keep.
“Why? You need a mussel car to impress those cheap floozies out of law school?” Sharlet hissed. Emotional flames licked through her teeth across the table, forcing Frank’s young lawyer, Florence, to make embarrassing eye contact with the floor, as she knew the expensive car had a blue light scan when Mr. McGookie was charged with adultery. Moreover, she was confident she was the cause of the majority of the glowing stains.
As his legal advisor, she spent an enormous amount of time with him, both in, and out of the office.
“The other vehicles to be divided are also a 2013 red Kia Sedona minivan, a 2017 blue Jetta Volkswagen sedan, and a speedboat.”
“Oh, well, there you go. He can have the van and I’ll take the rest.”
“What possible use would you have for the charger?! It’s not good on gas, there is barely any trunk space and it costs a fortune to fix,” Frank exclaimed.
“I’ve actually grown a great respect for the history of automobiles, so that is my primary reason.”
“Bullshit”
“AND, your son Hubert has been learning to drive on it. I don’t want to think how far it might set him back if he would have to start learning all over again, in a different car.”
“He will DESTROY it. As his first car, this cannot be allowed,” Frank proclaimed, smacking his hands on the table as his glassy eyes were beginning to lose their cool demeanor.
“Sharlet, can we talk privately? A short recess please.”
“I will allow 15 minutes if Ms. Dunzberry is willing,” the moderator sighed, looking for Sharlet to take action. And she did, reluctantly. Huffing, she stood, with her purse strap hanging from her dark purple blazer with matching skirt and heels.
Following Frank into a hallway that led into a smaller office room, the city’s beautiful view shimmered in the morning sun, painting the perfect backdrop for her pathetic, groveling, schlup of an ex-husband.
“Ok, what do you want? I’ll do anything. You know I love that car.”
Looking around the room, she leafed through a stack of documents on the front desk, glancing over numbers and names that meant nothing to her.
She tossed them aside and sat on the cleared space with her round rump. Originally sitting like a lady, with her pale, full calves folded on top of each other, that soon changed as she spread her legs to reveal a lack of panties. By the way her bush was trimmed into the shape of an indicating arrow, it was clear she expected action.
“If you want that car, you’re going to eat my pussy like you should have on our 16th anniversary. Just like you did when we were in high school.”
Her feminine odors wafting into the thickening air left Frank gulping, and his loose suit pants soon grew more form-fitting. “You know I can’t, not since I hurt my jaw all those years ago.”
“That’s a shame because we both know you never hurt your jaw. You paid your doctor to write you a ‘get out of jail free’ card. And now, I’m going to have to take your precious car instead of some simple satisfaction.” She shut her legs as she spoke, “You. Owe. Me.”
Frank dove to his knees. “OKAY, okay, okayyyyyy.”
His hands forcing her thighs apart, they soon wrapped around her waist, pulling her neglected pussy towards his ready and able jaw. The old coot wasted little time, a driven lack of hesitation was one of the few things she still admired about him. The familiar sensation of his silver tongue licking up and down her labia was more than welcomed. Her thighs latched onto his body like two anacondas that found a vulnerable ox.
Squeezing him in, her clit felt the fire of their unkindled relationship spark and grow again. Undoing a button on her blouse, her manicured nails soon made their way into her overflowing bust. Her hands massaging her breast, she turned her nipple to match the pleasure from below.
Her other hand was unsure if she could still grab his thinning hair as she had before. “But fuck it, she thought as her crimson-tipped daggers grabbed hold of his high sodium hairstyle, encouraging him to go deeper and harder. There was no sense playing coy, especially on a time crunch, as she looked to see eight minutes remaining.
“If I don’t cum, you don’t get your car,” she told Frank, despite his lips locking efforts with her labia.
But he was keeping a surprise in his back pocket, a surprise he knew she would love. Humming through his mouth, he wasn’t worried about his muffled noise carrying through the building. However, he made no promises on her moans. After all, one of his wife’s best features were her sounds in the bedroom, and with his tongue now vibrating around her clit, she was helpless.
Her spine arched as the bolts of pleasure shot threw her. She was amazed that he could still compete with her vibrator. With her neck tilted up, she raised her wrist to watch the time slip.
As she reminded him of the ticking time, Frank pulled out the last stop. He was able to fit his middle finger between her moist lips, rubbing the roof of her vagina. Continuing his hum, the poor man was almost out of breath.
Her cries grew louder. She had been craving the touch of another for so long. This perverted blackmail was years in the making. She was close too, but she tried her best not to let him on.
Soon, she found his sweeping arm knocking everything off the desk. A cup of pens shattered, crashing with an antique lamp, the cord still plugged in spat threw the shards of glass. The papers wafted through the air as he forced her down. He got his own squeeze of her exposed breasts before he went back to work with a second finger, shaped like a hook. He hummed and licked and finger-fucked his wife as if they were teenagers again, in his parents’ partially refinished basement.
With memories flooding in around them, his wife’s second-best feature was on debut. Her real moans were paired with raising hips and clenching thighs, curled toes and the belief of a job well done. With a minute and a half left, she had fooled the oaf into thinking he knew what he was doing. It’s not like she didn’t have fun along the way though.
Shaking from her orgasm, he wiped his face and beelined for the water cooler, leaving her on the desk, along with the mess for someone else to pick up on Monday. With 15 seconds to spare, he soon rejoined the room in his regal leather seat and paper cup to sip out of. Sharlet, however, had already been sitting and waiting with the rest of them.
No one said anything as they didn’t think it was their place. The rooms weren’t soundproof, so surely the lawyers knew. Hell, even the neighboring apartment buildings knew. Only the kind old moderator was left in the auditory dark. He just happily looked across the table to see everyone looked a lot less angry.
“Have we reached a verdict?”
“Yes, he gets his precious cum-stained car, and I get the van, the Jetta, and the boat.”
“AND THE BOAT?!” Frank exclaimed. His already red face got redder as he caught a wif of his breath, the smell of sex lingering, confirming everyone’s assumptions.
“Yeah, unless you’ve got a problem with that.”
Bittersweet in his victory, Frank crossed his arms and looked at the moderator.
“She can have the van, the Jetta, and the boat.”
“Very good then,” he said, marking down on his papers and indication that a decision had been made. “Please sign here to confirm this.” After the papers soon made their way to both parties, they were signed and put aside.
