John's Case Gets Complicated

All the characters depicted in this story are 18 years old or older.

*

Rachel Griffith was not a happy camper. She had married her high school sweetheart and eighteen years later she had had enough. Her husband John had been quite the catch when they started dating back when dinosaurs ruled the earth. He was an athlete, competitive and smart, qualities that would serve him well as he went on to be a successful lawyer. Rachel was completely in love with him back in school. That probably explained why she was knocked up when she graduated.

John went on to university while Rachel kept house for him and their daughter. They had kept the spark alive for a long time. But then Melissa had hit her teens. She had cut her hair spiky short and died it peroxide blonde. She had become rebellious and started giving them problems. Real problems. Drugs, boys, sex, girls, sex, more drugs. It was hard on both of them. They did the best they could but as their frustrations grew they started taking it out on each other.

Rachel hadn't really been with any other man besides John. John hadn't been with any other women. His career was very demanding and he didn't have any time to fool around.

Rachel, on the other hand, with Melissa away more and more, had plenty of time on her hands. She got in with a group of girl friends at the Country Club, some unhappily married, some divorced, all of them on the prowl. In their company Rachel began to realize that at 36 years old she didn't have to settle for a second rate life. She was still young and attractive. She started working out at the gym. She went shopping with her girl friends and got some new clothes that showed off her curvaceous figure.

The next thing she knew, men were starting to pay attention to her, to flirt with her. All kinds of men. Men John knew, men he didn't. Younger men, interesting men. She went out a couple of times and she was surprised to find out how exciting it was to be with someone new, to have sex with him. She started to see other men regularly.

Then suddenly Rachel decided she wanted a new life. She deserved a new life. To hell with John and his boring lawyer friends. To hell with their delinquent daughter. She talked to a couple of women at the club, women who had done very well in their divorces. The name of one lawyer kept coming up. Amanda Starr had represented a number of the divorced women she knew and won them lucrative settlements. Rachel decided to go and see her.

Mrs. Starr, as it turned out, was an extremely attractive red head about Rachel's age. She was easy to talk to and still professional. Rachel immediately felt comfortable with her. She told her the whole story. Well most of it anyway. She told her about her 18 years of marriage. She told her about her daughter. How Melissa had been the love of their life and then all the trouble she had been in. Rachel told Amanda about her vision of a new life. Then she told her about her problem. She didn't think John would care all that much about her leaving him. Aside from having to shoulder more of the burden of dealing with Melissa, he didn't really pay that much attention to her anymore. The problem was that she'd need a pretty substantial share of the money, his money, their money.

But she didn't think she had very good grounds. Melissa was no longer a minor and wouldn't need child support. John hadn't been cheating on her. In truth she was the one that was screwing around. But she couldn't live on air. She needed a settlement and a good one.

Ms. Starr looked at her new client with an amused smile.

"Rachel. You're a good mother, a good homemaker and you're a very attractive woman. Doesn't your husband realize how lucky he is?"

"Lucky!" Rachel snorted.

"John thinks getting lucky is sex for his birthday. Other than that, as long as dinner is on the table and Melissa isn't passed out in the living room on any given night then he doesn't even know if I'm there or gone."

"Are you saying that your sexual relations are infrequent?"

"Once every couple of months if he can stay awake long enough is damned infrequent. It's sure as hell isn't what I'm looking for."

"Is he gay?"

"Gay! Hah! He isn't gay! On the odd occasion that we do go out his eyeballs are on stilts every time a good looking woman crosses the room. It's just me he doesn't have time for and I'm fed up with it!"

"I see..." said the smiling attorney.

"Do you Ms. Starr? Do you see my dilemma? I want a divorce. He won't care. And I want enough money to live, to live well. He won't be so agreeable about that. And if there's an appearance in court and evidence comes out about who did what to who, then I would be the guilty party and I'd get nothing."

"And you're sure his lack of interest isn't because he's indulging himself in his own extra-curricular activities?"

"Positive! He's got his work, he's got his buddies and a wife who is there for him...well most of the time anyway. He plays golf every Saturday and he isn't fooling around, I god damn guarantee it!"

"Be that as it may Rachel, I suggest we proceed as follows. We bring an action for divorce naming your husband as the unfaithful party. We acquire evidence to substantiate this claim, evidence that is damning enough that your husband will not want to see it presented in open court. It then becomes a matter of simply negotiating an appropriate agreement in light of these circumstances. We make an out-of court settlement that, even after my fees, I think you will find to be very...comfortable."

"But Amanda. I just told you he isn't having an affair. He never did. How can you provide evidence to the contrary?"

Ms. Starr looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Rachel, trust me! This is what I do. Wendy Adamovich recommended me didn't she? Her circumstances weren't all that different from yours. Men are nothing if not predictable. In certain circumstances they all have their Achilles heel, or perhaps Achilles dick might be a more appropriate reference. I don't think you really want to know the nuts and bolts of how I plan to resolve this thing. Let's just say that I have several highly skilled operatives who will uncover the evidence we need in this matter. Leave it with me for a couple of weeks and I'll get back to you."

Rachel actually was quite curious about what Mrs. Starr was planning to do but a couple of more questions got her no further details. So Rachel just signed the ream of documents that promised the attorney 30% of whatever settlement was reached, payable over the duration of the agreement. She tried another question but Amanda just responded that she'd be in touch soon, so Rachel left.

John Griffith was at work a couple of weeks later when an interesting brief landed on his desk. It was another divorce action, his bread and butter. In itself it wasn't all that intriguing. The plaintiff was a Mrs. Rachel Robinson (his new client). Her husband John was a noted neurosurgeon at the Royalmont Medical Center. There was a daughter, a minor named Melissa. That was the interesting thing that caught John's eye, John, Rachel, Melissa. The big difference was that the doctor's daughter was much younger than his Melissa. John smiled at the coincidence for a moment and then scanned the file.

It seemed Rachel Robinson had caught the good doctor with his pants down. She named two co-respondents specifically while alluding to innumerable others.

Doctor Robinson was being represented by an Amada Starr. John had heard of

Ms. Starr. Apparently she was the lawyer of choice these days for 'hard done by' female spouses. She didn't usually take on the husbands. But he had heard that she was good, that she had won some pretty healthy settlements. Not much court time though. And that was where John earned his rather outrageous fees. Well this should be interesting.

He had interviewed the husband. This was before the good doctor signed on with Ms. Starr.

Dr. Robinson had flatly denied that he had been fooling around. Never happened! His wife was a demented bitch. She could hit the road any time she wanted. That was fine with him. But he'd look after the daughter. And not a dime for his cunt of a wife.

So it looked like there was going to be a big custody battle here with a well known neurosurgeon in the middle of it. John started to day dream about that new Lexus he'd been lusting after. Maybe he could afford the bigger model after all.

After meeting the doctor, who John didn't find very believable at all, he booked a meeting with the women named in the suit to take their depositions. Well he booked one meeting with an Amber Lane. The other woman named, Tiffany Andress, had yet to be located. But his staff were working on it.

Amber Lane worked late apparently and asked if she could come in on a Wednesday evening about seven, just before her shift. By now Mrs. Starr had refused access to her client or the witnesses unless she was present. John had his staff check with Ms. Starr who said she could make herself available to appear with Ms. Lane.

So John agreed and the following Wednesday evening he walked into his conference room 'C', the small one, to talk to Ms. Lane along with Ms. Starr.

Ms. Starr and Ms. Lane were both sitting on one side of the big cherry wood table.

John actually stopped in mid-stride coming through the doorway at his first sight of the two attractive women. The younger of the two stood up when she saw John standing there. She looked to be about 23, a tall, stunning looking girl who was wearing a flight attendant uniform, blue skirt, matching jacket, white blouse, nylons and heels. Her jet black hair was pulled up and pinned up behind. The other woman, presumably Ms. Starr, stood up a little more slowly. Her mane of red hair framed her face in artful disarray. She had on a tailored grey suit that was buttoned in the front. To soften her look she was wearing a plunging black satin bodice beneath her jacket that revealed a hint of substantial cleavage.

John looked back and forth appreciatively between the two women until the taller one stuck out her hand and said...

"Mr. Griffith, I'm Amber Lane."

"Miss Lane. How do you do." John said, shaking hands. And then, extending his hand to the red head...

"Ms. Starr. I'm John Griffith. I've heard about your work. It would appear your client will be well represented in this matter."

"Mr. Griffith. I've heard you're no pushover yourself. This will be interesting don't you think?" Ms. Starr replied, the hint of a smile curling her scarlet lips.

Everyone smiled congenially at each other and sat down. Ms. Starr had a laptop open on the desk. She pulled out a mini tape recorder, put it on the desk in front of her and clicked it on. John did the same. He made a few remarks about the format of the interview and advised Ms. Lane that although she was not under oath, her responses would be noted and could be used in court. Any untrue statements she made could ultimately result in charges of perjury.

Ms. Lane said she understood.

John went on to get some background on Ms. Lane.

"You're a flight attendant I presume?"

Ms. Lane smiled and answered..."No. Actually I work at the 'Landing Strip'. It's a private club out by the airport. Do you know it? We have a lot of lawyers as customers...I mean members."

"I know of it." John replied. The 'Landing Strip' was a Gentlemen's Club that he had heard was a pretty racy establishment, a glorified strip club. He had never been out there though.

"And what do you do at the Club Ms. Lane?"

Rather than answer, Ms. Lane stood up, undid the top button of her shirt and said..."Do you mind if I take off my jacket? It's very warm in here."

John simply nodded and smiled. Without for a moment taking her eyes off his, Ms. Lane slowly removed her jacket revealing the most amazing pair of spherical breasts straining against her shirt. She was obviously not wearing a bra. Those two thrusting beauties swayed and rippled most enticingly beneath her white satin shirt as she shrugged off her flight jacket.

John did his best to try and remain unflustered by this unexpected display but he could feel his ears reddening slightly, And that wasn't the only place the blood was starting to pound.

Amber Lane remained standing, looking down on John.

"I'm in flight services at the Club" she said with a smile.

John knew he would have to get more detail but his composure was ruffled. He pulled a photo from his pocket and put it on the table.

"Do you know this man?"

Amber glanced at the picture.

"Sure. That's Doctor John."

"And how do you know him?"

"Oh he's a member of the Club."

"And do you see him often?'

"Yes. I'd say he comes in pretty often."

"Do you have a relationship with Dr. John?"

"Councillor!..." Ms. Starr said to him warningly.

"Ms. Starr!..." John replied, not intimidated.

"Do you or did you have a relationship with Dr. John, Ms. Lane."

"Dr. John was friendly with lots of the girls Mr. Griffith. I think he spent a lot of time with Tiffany but he liked me too. It's our job to be friendly."

As she was talking, Ms. Lane reached up and pulled a few pins from the knot of her coiffure. She shook her head and a cascade of lustrous hair fell to her shoulders. A heady fragrance of perfume wafted towards John.

"Mr. Griffith..." began Ms. Starr... "The 'Landing Strip' is a private Club, not a whore house. The young ladies who work there like Ms. Lane are there to entertain, to be personable. But there are rules at the Club. Limits. I don't think that providing the kind of service that is available in a state licensed establishment constitutes 'having a relationship' of the kind that you are implying."

"Do you not Ms. Starr? Do you not. Well let's see shall we?"

"Ms. Lane. In your own words please describe one of Dr. John's typical visits to the Club."

"Well, he'd usually come in around 8:00, not very late but he always wanted to get home at a reasonable hour. He had a very stressful job. He'd have a couple of drinks, watch the girls dance for a half an hour or so. Then he'd kind of wave either me or Tiffany over."

"Ah yes, Tiffany" Ms. Starr interjected..."I haven't been able to speak to her yet. Can you put me in touch with her Amber?"

"I'm sorry Ms. Starr. She left the Club a couple of months ago and I haven't heard from her. But I'll let her know you want to speak to her if she calls."

"And so he'd wave you over..." John prompted.

"Yeah. He'd ask one of us to come over. He'd buy us a drink and then suggest we head up to the VIP lounge."

"The VIP Lounge?"

"Unn Hnn! That's upstairs. It's much more private and quite a bit more comfortable than the main part of the Club. Also there's a significant up-charge in the fees for using the Lounge. Of course the service is more personal up there as well."

"More personal Ms Lane. In what way more personal?"

"Well let's say I were to dance for you in the club. There's a little box I'd bring over to your table and I'd stand on that and dance for you. If we're in the VIP lounge though I would get closer and be a little more ... you know...friendly."

"No I don't know Ms. Lane. In what way would you be 'more friendly'?"

"It'd be easier if I just showed you."

"Of course" John answered.

"Is it alright?" Amber asked Ms. Starr.

"I'd rather see it here than in court" said Ms. Starr.

Amber turned back to John, regarding him with a predatory grin. Then she started to sway her hips as she reached up and began to open her blouse further. She sidled slowly around the table towards John popping buttons one after the other as she moved.

John had the good sense to make a quick adjustment to the front of his pants under the table to allow his growing erection room to expand as Amber approached him.

When she stood right beside him her shirt was unbuttoned down to the waistband of her skirt. John couldn't help but glance at the creamy curves of her tits that were now peeking through the front of her parted shirt

"Why don't you turn your chair for me John. Let me show you what I mean by being more friendly.

John awkwardly bumped his chair around, trying desperately to look Ms. Lane in the eye.

Amber gracefully sank to her knees in front of him. She put her hands on his knees and pushed them wide apart. Then she edged forward into that vee until her barely covered breasts were brushing against his pant covered hard-on. She gently turned her shoulders back and forth in time to some unheard music, rubbing her tantalizing boobs against his now fully distended cock.

"I see. I see." John said shakily.

"And can you tell me please about the type of conversation that you and Dr. John would have in this situation." the lawyer asked the shameless stewardess crouching between his knees.

"Councillor. I really don't see the relevance of that question?" Ms. Star interjected.

"Ahhh!...Actually!...I'm trying...Ummm... to establish whether or not the relationship between Ms. Lane and Dr. Robinson was anything more than just a casual one. I think their conversation in this intimate situation would probably be very informative in that regard."

And in fact Ms. Starr wanted the councilor's interaction with Ms. Lane to be as intimate as possible. She surreptitiously reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and pressed a button on her cell phone which made it start to ring. Without saying anything she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the display.

"Damn" she said as she reached out and switched off her tape recorder. She nodded towards John's and he clumsily reached over to switch his off too, acutely aware of Amber's pneumatic tits pressing against his groin as he did so.

"I apologize John. Normally I would never take a call in the middle of a deposition. But we've been having some problems at home with my son. My husband's with him at a counseling session right now. They just want my input for a few minutes. I'm very sorry.

Ms. Lane. You can answer that last question of Mr. Griffith's, but no more until I get back. Please councilor."

"Of course. Of course, Ms. Starr. We will just finish this point and then make small talk until you get back."

"Thank you Mr. Griffith" said Ms. Starr as she exited the room, her cell phone against her ear.

What she hadn't mentioned was that her laptop had a very sophisticated camera and recording device as part of its accessories and which were both still turned on. The eye of the camera was part of the logo of the case and had been filming John's side of the table for the whole interview. The audio was also being recorded.

"What was the question again? What did we usually talk about? Let me see..." Amber said, an innocent look on her face. At the same time she shifted on her knees, moved her hands up John's thighs and rammed her cushiony breasts into his groin.

"Ahhhh!...Ahhh!...It was...Unnn!..." John gasped, moving his hands to Ms. Lane's shoulders to push her back a little.

Suddenly Amber was looking at him with a steely glare.

"Remember the rules John. The customer can look but not touch!"

John was so surprised by Amber's change in demeanor that he immediately took his hands off her. Amber's face softened once more.

"But that doesn't mean I can't touch you does it John? You're not usually so nervous are you? Has it been a hard week? Is it Rachel? She doesn't understand you does she John? She doesn't know what you need...But I do... " she said leaning back a little, reaching in and calmly pulling the zipper of John's pants open.

John was too amazed to move or speak.

"Ummm! You're especially big tonight aren't you baby!" Amber enthused as she deftly twisted John's rigid cock out of his pants.

"Oh look at you! You're already leaking already you bad boy! Is Rachel not taking care of you or have you been saving it all for me?" the kneeling temptress teased, reaching in with her free hand and pressing her open palm against his cock crown. Slowly she wiped her palm across John's bloated knob. She smeared the clear pre-come around and around his cock crown in a way that had him gasping for breath.