The Predator Ch. 20

Dean Abbott drove toward the residence of Judge Hiram Morgan, which was located in an exclusive section of city. He wasn't going to see Judge Morgan. The state supreme court was in session, and would be for several more weeks, which meant the judge, who was Chief Justice of the state supreme court, was in the capitol. Judge Morgan had an apartment in the capitol he stayed in for the entire court term. He seldom came home when court was in session, even on weekends.

Dean was going to the Morgan home to see Hillary Morgan, the judge's young, very attractive wife. He and Hillary had been carrying on a torrid affair for several years.

He pulled up in front of the judge's extravagant residence, shut off his car, and walked to the large, brass-decorated front door, which was sheltered by a pillared marble portico.

A liveried man came to the door when Dean rang the doorbell. "Yes?" the man, graying, short, with a deep voice, said. He looked at Dean and frowned.

"I have an appointment with Mrs. Morgan," Dean explained. "My name is Dean Abbott."

"Yes, of course, sir. Madam is expecting you," the manservant said. "She's in her drawing room. Please, follow me."

Dean followed the butler up a curving marble staircase and down a hallway. The butler stopped in front of a highly polished door that looked like it was made from solid mahogany. "Madam is in there," he said. He turned and started walking back down the hall.

Dean rapped softly on the door.

"Yes?" came a sultry voice from inside the room.

"It's Dean Abbott," he said. Every time he came here, it felt as if he were being treated like some kind of servant. For some reason he had never been able to understand in all the time he'd been seeing Hillary; that excited him.

"Come in, Mr. Abbott," the husky feminine voice purred.

Dean opened the door and entered the room. Hillary Morgan, sitting on a plush-looking gray loveseat in a dressing room outside her bedroom, smiled at him. She wore a black satin nightgown that looked a bit like a halter dress that had triangular stitched panels going up over her shoulders. The top of the gown exposed a lot of Hillary's pale chest and cleavage and the rest of it clung to her supple body.

The woman's long, dark hair fell loosely around her severe face, to her shoulders. She wore bright red lipstick and her large green eyes glinted, but betrayed little. There was a smile on her face, but the smile was unreadable.

"Have a seat, Dean," the judge's wife said, gesturing to a plush chair opposite her.

Dean sat down. He wasn't sure why he kept coming back to her. When it came to women, he liked being in control, and with Hillary, he was never even remotely in control. Just the same, he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her.

Hillary smiled at him. "I understand your wife is filing for divorce, Dean," she said. "Is that true?"

Dean had no idea how she'd heard about the divorce, but she had a way of knowing things that constantly surprised him. "She says she is," he said. "She intends to ask for full custody of our son." He'd been shocked when Nora told him she was getting a divorce. He didn't mind losing her all that much, but he didn't want to lose custody of his son and heir. "I've spoken with one of my partners who specializes in divorce," he said. "We'll see what happens when we get to court."

"You don't seem very concerned about the ramifications of this, Dean," Hillary observed. "If Nora wins, won't it cost you a lot of money, as well as custody of your son?"

"That could happen, I suppose," Dean replied. "There are times I think it would be a lot easier if she just disappeared."

Hillary smiled and raised her eyebrows. "My goodness, Dean," she said. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

Dean smiled back at her and shook his head. "You have a mistaken impression of what I said. I'm not suggesting anything," he replied. "That was just wishful thinking."

Hillary nodded. "Yes, well. You, of all people, should know that it is impossible to predict how things will go in divorce court," she said. "I suppose there are times a person has to do whatever it takes to insure they get the outcome they want."

Dean knew what a mess Justice Morgan's divorce from his first wife had been. The judge's first wife had made a laughing-stock of him in court. The woman's lawyer painted the judge look like an old fool who was under the sway of a gold-digging younger woman. Which, of course, was exactly what he was.

Dean had no intention of letting anything like that happen to him. "Yes, well, if it comes to that," he said, "I will do whatever I have to. You can count on that. I'll not allow myself to be humiliated." Hillary's comments had started him thinking. If Nora really were to disappear...

"A tough attitude is vital when it comes to divorce, Dean," Hillary said. "Sometimes it's better to act than react." She smiled at him and licked her lips. "Enough about such a messy subject. It's time we move on to more pleasant matters, don't you think?"

She stood up, stretched, and started for a doorway to the left of the sofa where she had been sitting. When she reached the door she stopped and turned to Dean. "You were planning to accompany me, weren't you, Dean?"

"Of course I was!" Dean replied. It was the invitation he had been waiting for, part of a ritual they'd fallen into since the first time he slept with her, a ritual they re-enacted every time they were together. Surprisingly, it never grew old for Dean and never failed to arouse him, although for the life of him he couldn't comprehend why. His cock had begun to stiffen, especially after he saw her stretch. He stood up and took off his suit jacket. Loosening his tie, he followed Hillary into her bedroom.

Hillary Morgan had one of the most ornately feminine bedrooms it had ever been Dean's good fortune to visit. The walls were covered with pink embossed wallpaper and the windows were curtained with expensive-looking pink lace. In the center of the room, dominating the other furnishings was a king-sized bed that had a pink satin canopy and was draped with the same lace the curtains were made from.

Hillary walked to the bed, turned, and stood there, smiling at Dean.

Dean shed his clothes, his eyes remaining locked on Hillary while he did. When he was naked, she slowly pushed one shoulder strap off, then the other. She paused, then, continuing to smile at him, holding her arms folded over her breasts. Then, deliberately, she lowered her arms. The gown slid slowly down over her curves and dropped silently to the floor.

Dean's eyes widened. Every time he was here, it was as if he was going through this for the first time. Hillary's breasts were medium sized, but perfectly shaped. They were tipped with small, dark circles, and her tiny nipples were already beginning to swell outward. He took a deep breath and licked his lips.

"Do you like what you see, Dean?" Hillary purred, smiling, showing not the slightest trace of diffidence.

Dean nodded. "Yes, I do. I-I like it very much," he replied. As always, he couldn't help but be unnerved by how cool and aloof Hillary acted. It was as if she were doing this strictly for her own pleasure and didn't care whether he was there or not. It made him want her more than he ever wanted any woman.

Hillary licked her lips. Then, gracefully, she laid down on the bed. "I'm waiting, Dean," she said softly. "You really must finish what you were doing and get over here."

Dean shed his remaining clothes quickly and moved to the bed. He stood next to it and looked down at Hillary. Her body was lean and athletic, more angular than rounded, but very, very enticing just the same. Her legs were long and firm, and a luxuriant mass of black hair covered the area where they joined her body. He swallowed hard.

"Eat me, Dean!" Hillary said, her voice showing a trace of urgency for the first time. She parted her legs, showing him her center.

Breathing hard, Dean knelt on the bed, between her legs and bent his head toward her middle. She smelled of expensive perfume, and her skin was hot and smooth. He kissed her pubic forest.

Hillary gasped softly and squirmed. "Lower, Dean!" she said, "I need your tongue!"

Dean dragged his tongue between her labia and she groaned louder. He did it again and her back arched, forcing her hips up off the bed. He found her clit with his lips and sucked on it.

"Yes!" Hillary said, "That's it! You do know what you're doing, don't you, Dean?"

Dean thrust his tongue into her and she squirmed more ardently. Her taste was sweet and the fervent response of her body was heady. She continued grinding her pussy against his mouth, smearing his face with her juices.

"That's very good, Dean! Oh, yes, very good!" Hillary murmured, her restrained tone of voice a stark contrast to the heated movements of her body.

Dean clasped her taut buttocks in his hands and pressed his mouth harder against her. He licked down, over the narrow band of skin between her pussy and anus and pressed his tongue against her nether opening.

"Oh, Dean! Yes! My word!" Hillary murmured. Some of the coolness had disappeared from her voice and was replaced by urgency.

Dean slid one hand around and probed her snug rear opening with his finger.

Hillary pressed back against him. "Yess!!! Oh, yesss, Dean, you do know exactly how to please me, don't you?" she murmured.

While his finger slid slowly into Hillary's snug bottom, Dean continued thrusting his tongue into her vagina, pulling it out, lashing her clit, then stabbing it into her again. As he did, the movements of her hips grew more and more frenetic.

Dean continued to lick Hillary's pussy and finger-fuck her ass, and she continued to squirm and murmur cries of delight.

After a few minutes, Hillary's body stiffened and a keening wail began coming from her. "Yiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" she wailed, her back arched, her muscles taut. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the wail stopped, her frantic activity ceased and she relaxed onto the bed.

Dean sat back on his heels, waiting patiently for what he knew would happen next.

Hillary lay still for a few moments, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling evenly. Then her eyes opened and she smiled at him. "You performed admirably, as always, Dean," she said softly. "Now, if you like, you may lay down right here." She patted the bed next to her.

Dean stretched out next to her, his steel-hard cock pointing at the satin canopy covering her bed. He watched Hillary get to her knees and reach for him. He gasped when her warm hand encircled his cock.

"Very nice, Dean!" she murmured, her hand sliding up and down on his rigid pole. "This is very nice!" She bent and took him into her mouth.

When Dean felt Hillary's mouth engulfing him, he thought the top of his head was going to come off. He'd had many women give him blowjobs, but nobody did it the way Hillary did. And it wasn't that she was a particularly good cock sucker. She was actually pretty mechanical and disinterested. It was the fact that she was the one in control, was making him respond to her every whim, that somehow made her blowjobs wilder than any others Dean ever had!

Hillary worked him over with her lips, tongue, and hands until he was sure he'd explode into her mouth. Then she stopped. She kept his cock gripped tightly between her fingers to keep him from exploding. When he calmed a bit, she wound him up again until his hips were rocking and he was babbling mindlessly.

Dean kept his eyes closed. He knew that if he watched what Hillary was doing to him, he'd lose control and come. That would disappoint Hillary and the wonderful feelings would stop. He didn't want that to happen, even though he felt as if he were going crazy! Then, suddenly, his cock was untouched. He opened his eyes and saw Hillary smiling down at him.

"How do you feel, Dean?" she asked.

"I...oh, God, Hillary!!! I need you!" Dean groaned. He reached for her. "I'm desperate for you!"

Hillary slid back on the bed and shook her head. "Not yet, Dean. First tell me how you feel," she said again.

"I-I need you!" Dean moaned. "God, Hillary, I need you desperately!"

"How much, Dean?" she asked quietly. "How much do you need me?"

"My God! I want you more than I've ever wanted anybody! I'm going to go crazy if I don't have you! Please, Hillary!!! Please don't do this to me!" he groaned desperately.

"Very good, Dean," Hillary said. Wearing a smile of satisfaction on her face, she stood up on the bed and straddled his prostrate body like a victorious gladiator.

Dean looked up at Hillary. Somehow she'd done it to him again. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He raised his arms, entreating her to take him into her body, but she just stood there, smiling down at him.

"Are you sure you want me, Dean?" she asked.

"God, yes!" he replied. The fact that she was continuing to tease him aroused him even more. No woman had ever treated him like this! And no woman had ever made him feel the way she did! "I'm going to go crazy if I don't have you! Please, Hillary!"

"Well, then..." Hillary murmured. "If that's really how you feel, I suppose you should be rewarded." She slowly lowered herself, grasped his cock, and impaled herself on it.

Dean thought he'd come the minute the head of his cock began invading Hillary's snug opening, but the tight grip she had on his cock kept that from happening. He could see her face flush as he entered her and he reached for her stiff-nippled breasts.

Hillary brushed his hands away. "Don't touch me, Dean!" she said firmly. "Not yet! Not until I say you may!"

Dean lay there, letting Hillary use him, feeling her incredibly tight cavern engulfing him, rippling along his cock. Then, at last, she finally had him all the way in her. Her pubic bone was pressed against his; her knees were pressed against the sides of his chest. Slowly she began moving, making his rigid member lash around inside her, sending shocks of delight through him.

Dean grabbed the covers and groaned when Hillary began to move. He couldn't believe how wonderful she always made him feel!

"God, Hillary!" he groaned. "Feels too good! I-I can't wait!"

Hillary stopped moving and smiled down at him. "Dean, listen to me. Of course you can wait," she said softly. "You have to. I order you to wait." She remained motionless, letting him simmer. After a bit, she began moving again.

Once more, wild sensations roared through Dean. Faster and faster his mistress - for that's what she really was - moved, her breasts bobbing, her face showing more and more signs that she, too, was being thrilled as much as he was.

Finally, her eyes glazed with passion, Hillary smiled down at him. "Now, Dean," she said, "You may come now."

It was as if she'd pulled the trigger on a gun. Dean's insides unleashed and he erupted into her with powerful spasms of his loins. "Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!" he cried, his hips bucking.

"Oh, yessssssssssssss!!!!!" Hillary groaned, her body quaking, her hips driving down against him. "Yesssssss!!! Yessssssssssss!!!! Yessssssssssss!!!"

When Hillary was finished, she got off him and sat against the head of the bed, hugging herself.

Dean rolled on his side and looked at her.

Hillary smiled at him. "That was a most satisfactory performance, Dean," she said, "Most satisfactory."

Dean smiled at her. He was too spent to speak.

After a bit, Hillary got up, slipped on her robe, then she turned and looked at him. "Get dressed, Dean," she said. "I assume you won't refuse a cup of coffee."

Dean got up and dressed. Once again, being with her had been an incredibly intense experience. As always, she allowed him intimate contact, yet remained aloof, almost untouched. She disdained foreplay. In fact, though he'd been making love with her for over a year, he'd never kissed her. The only contact he had with her body was what she allowed him. He didn't understand why, but her diffidence made her the most exciting woman he'd ever known.

Hillary and Dean were sitting in the dining room, sipping coffee, when a young woman walked in. She was quite attractive, had curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wore a pale blue sweatshirt and jeans.

"Hello, Hillary," the young woman said, a cool smile on her face. She glanced at Dean, her face showing nothing.

"Hello, Lucy," Hillary said. She turned to Dean and smiled. "This is Lucy Morgan, my step-daughter, Dean. Lucy, meet Mr. Dean Abbott. He's an attorney."

The young woman smiled at Dean. "Hello," she said.

"Hello," Dean replied.

"I'm going up to my room," Lucy said. She turned and left the room.

When Lucy left the room, Dean watched her carefully, noting the fine curves of her bottom, which were well displayed by the snug jeans she wore. Her ass moved very nicely as she was walking out of the room. He turned back to Hillary. "I didn't know you had a stepdaughter," he said.

"She is eighteen," Hillary said. "In case you were worried about that."

Dean felt his face get hot. He looked at Hillary. Her eyes were wide and there was something in them Dean had never seen before.

"Did you find Lucy attractive, Dean?" Hillary asked.

Dean nodded. "Yes," he replied softly.

"Those jeans fit her quite well, don't they?" Hillary continued.

"Yes, I guess they do," Dean admitted.

"Let's go back upstairs, Dean," Hillary said. She rose from the table, walked out of the room, and started up the huge marble staircase.

Dean followed the woman, bewildered, unsure what would happen next. Usually, at this point, she dismissed him. Was she going to allow him to have sex with her a second time today for some reason?

They moved down the upstairs hallway, toward Hillary's suite. Before they got there, Hillary stopped in front of another door. Dean stopped and looked at her.

Hillary smiled enigmatically. "You find my stepdaughter attractive, don't you, Dean?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," Dean replied.

"I've told you she's eighteen," Hillary asked.

Dean nodded, unsure what she was getting at. "You did tell me how old she was," he replied.

Hillary's next comment stunned him.

"Do you want her, Dean?" she asked. "Would you like to make love to her?"

"What?" Dean gasped. He was totally befuddled. Did Hillary want him to fuck her stepdaughter? If that was the case, should he do it? After all, he could get in serious legal difficulty if he were caught.

"The opportunity to do that is yours...if you wish to avail yourself of it," Hillary said. "That's Lucy's room. She's in there." She gestured toward the door in front of them.

"Wait a minute!" Dean protested.

Hillary gazed at him, her eyes unreadable. "You seem hesitant, Dean," she purred. "What would you say if I told you I want you to go in there and make love to Lucy?" Her tone of voice was flat, but firm.

Dean was so shaken he couldn't think straight. "How...I mean...am I just supposed to walk in there and say, 'Hi, Lucy, your stepmother told me to come in and make love to you,' or what?" he asked. It wasn't as if Hillary was asking him to do something repugnant. Lucy was very attractive, and he wouldn't mind making love to her, but this was weird!

He continued to think about the situation he faced, however. The fact Hillary was, in a sense, giving the girl to him, made the idea even more exciting. He wanted to do what Hillary told him, even though he was aware there might be dire consequences if he did. He was afraid if he didn't do what she said, she wouldn't see him again, and he didn't think he could live without her.

"How you do it is your problem," Hillary said. "You know what your task is, all you need to do is accomplish it." She turned and continued down the hallway.