A "Jewel" of a Wife Ch. 02

On Wednesday I did something I never thought that I'd do. I made an appointment to see the prosecutor, Gillian Hogan, who put Arlene behind bars, on Friday for lunch.

When I showed up at Gillian's office at 11:45 on Friday I got an unexpectedly warm greeting. She smiled broadly and gave me a hug. I had been in her office many times before and noticed that the photos of her husband were no longer on her desk; that made me look at her left hand. There no longer were rings on her ring finger, although there was a small emerald ring on her right hand ring finger.

She agreed to let me treat her to lunch. I took her to the best restaurant in our fair city. Since she obviously was no longer married, I was horny as hell, and I had enormous respect for her, as we chatted I looked at her for the first time as a woman, not a prosecutor.

Like both Arlene and me, she was basically ordinary looking, although slightly prettier, taller, and fitter, than average. Outside of a business setting she was also extremely charming and – for lack of a better word – flirtatious. She was also candid, something I appreciated and knew that I had to return in kind.

As we were consuming our culinary delights she asked, "So, Austen, why did you want to see me? It wasn't just to see how much expensive food I could put away, was it?"

"Actually, I have a business reason to talk to you. But, to be honest I never looked at you with a romantic interest before, but since you are now obviously divorced, and I clearly am, that has changed," I replied.

"Bullshit," she laughed, but I noticed a reddening of her cheeks.

"Bullshit that you're divorced?" I asked, then immediately stuffed my mouth with capon.

"No, my husband cheated almost as badly as your wife, and I found out right after Arlene's trial, so I am divorced. 'Bullshit' that you could have a romantic interest in me," she smiled then filled her face with risotto.

"I'll explore that later," I chuckled. "You're right; I do have a business reason for asking you to lunch. I completely misread how difficult things would be for my girls without their mother. It's killing them – especially my ten year old, Justine. Is there any way that Arlene's sentence can be reduced? I don't think that they can make it four years. If I had known I would have asked you, and the Court, for leniency in sentencing."

Gillian's eyes got wide. She sat back in the booth, finished chewing and swallowing what was in her mouth, and then said "We just got a memo yesterday about overcrowding in our prisons, and the terrible cost to taxpayers. I have a shrink I can recommend you send your kids to. Do that, and once I get her report I'll tell you if there is anything I can do."

"No shit! I mean, no kidding!" I exclaimed, truly stunned.

"It may require that we interact some more, though," she deadpanned, giving me a sultry look as she stuck a thick breadstick into her mouth and then sucked on it for a few seconds before biting it.

After I walked Gillian back to her office after lunch she gave me the name and contact information for the shrink she had mentioned, Dr. Wilson. I made sure to make contact with her hand and hold it while she handed the slip of paper to me. She didn't move her hand away.

"Thanks, Gillian," I said staring her in the eye. "If it's not a conflict of interest, could you have dinner with me tomorrow, Saturday, night?"

"It's no conflict, but you are taking a chance," she replied with an evil grin. "I haven't had sex since I filed for divorce seven months ago and I'm really aggressive."

"I'll take my chances," I said, trying to match her grin. "I'll pick you up at seven. What's your home address?"

As she turned and wrote down her home address and cell numbers I "inadvertently" put my hand on the small of her back, and it just happened to trail down her ass when she stood up."

"Maybe I'm the one who should be worried," she said with an even more diabolical grin as she handed me the slip of paper. I grinned back, turned and walked out, calling over my shoulder as I got to the door, "See you at seven – dress sexy."

Now my mind was in a different type of turmoil.

First things first. I called Dr. Wilson and made an appointment for after school the next Wednesday. Then I went and worked out at the gym to keep from being preoccupied about getting laid the next night.

As I knew she would, Jen was happy to have Justine and Cybil spend the night Saturday at her house. She was the closest thing the kids had to a mother, and they were always more upbeat at her house.

I cleaned and dressed myself better Saturday evening than I had since before my divorce. I had high expectations, and when I arrived to pick up Gillian she did NOT disappoint.

Instead of her hair up in a bun like she always wore it at work, it flowed around her neck and over her shoulders. It sparkled. When she flipped her head and it shimmered it was a complete turn-on.

With light makeup on she had highlighted all of the best features of her face, and something I had never really noticed before were her lizard-like enchanting bright green eyes.

Then there was that short, tight, slinky, black dress. Her thighs and ass looked magnificent; it was like she changed from an ordinary woman into ultra-sexy Catwoman!

I blurted out "WOW, you look awesome!"

"You clean up well yourself," she smiled.

We went to a restaurant that had dancing. After ordering hor d'oeuvres and drinks, we danced. After we ate the hor d'oeuvres and virtually chugged our drinks we danced again. By the second slow dance my cock was unmistakably poking her crotch as she leaned into me with her five inch heels lining us up perfectly. I gently kissed her lips; she kissed mine; then for the first time in my life on a first date (if that was what this was) my companion whispered into my ear "You know, we don't have to eat dinner here. We can just go back to my place and fuck."

I had paid the bill for the meal we hadn't eaten, and we were in the car back to her townhouse, within two minutes flat.

We started tearing each other's clothes off before we made it through her front door. By the time that we reached the couch in her living room we were both naked except for my socks and for her high heels, which she obviously intentionally kept on.

I pushed her down on the couch and dove into her honey pot, working all fingers, my tongue, and lips at the same time, like a starving man attacking his first meal in a month. She was clearly horny and loved oral, because she orgasmed three times within five minutes. By then my cock was hurting and she was yelling "Fuck me!"

In the throes of passion, I surprised myself – and shocked her – by throwing a couch pillow onto the rug, turning her upside down so that her face and arms were on the pillow, and while holding her legs up in the air shoved my cock "down" her pussy. She groaned, screamed, moaned, and cried out, sometimes seemingly all at the same time, as I pumped my cock in and out of her cunt with as much energy as I could muster. We were both so anxious that it didn't take long before I was grunting and filling her pussy with cum and she was virtually convulsing in orgasm.

I was so drained that I slowly sank to my knees, my cock still buried in her fabulous channel. I slowly reciprocated, each movement getting a little yelp or moan from Gillian, until I finally went flaccid and completely withdrew.

We lay in each other's arms for the longest time, our bodies sweating and occasionally twitching, before either of us spoke. Finally Gillian said "What the fuck was that?"

"'The Wheelbarrow' is what some people call it," I smiled.

"Was the purpose to overload every nerve ending in my body?" she smiled back.

"Yeah, fry all your circuits – did it work?" I asked.

"Hell yes. I'll probably never be able to think again," she laughed.

It was the best sexual experience of my life except for the four Thursday guilt and passion-laden fucks with Arlene just before our breakup, with the promise of even better things to come. Gillian and I weren't familiar with each other's bodies yet, but we spent the rest of the day and the next morning trying to make up for that.

By the time that we rolled out of her bed at ten the next morning I knew where all of her erogenous zones were, I knew that her left nipple was more sensitive than her right one and capable of causing her to climax when sucked, that she loved being the fucker as much as being the fuckee, and that anal was definitely in our future.

I talked Gillian into going with me to pick up my kids at Jen's house, and then taking them to an amusement park. Both Jen and Bill recognized Gillian from Arlene's trial, and were taken aback by how friendly she was to them and their kids. After a little apprehension, Justine and Cybil really warmed up to Gillian, to the extent that they were soon arguing about who would sit next to her on the next ride.

Justine and Cybil were passed out with exhaustion by the time that I dropped Gillian off Sunday night.

"Thanks; this was the best weekend I can remember," she genuinely said as we held hands on her front stoop.

"You are beyond awesome," I replied. "You've quadrupled my happiness in just two days!"

We exchanged short but soulful kisses, and then I said "We're seeing Dr. Wilson Wednesday. Can I see you again Friday during the day and Saturday night? We'll be going to see Arlene on Sunday."

"As long as you know that you'll be fucking me, I'm on board," she grinned.

After another short kiss I turned and left, waving goodbye over my shoulder.

It was all I could do to carry my sleeping angels into their beds. I didn't even bother to take their dresses off, figuring I'd just get them cleaned and pressed next week, before I collapsed into my bed, also fully clothed, and went out like a light.

Monday the three of us, Justine, Cybil, and me, awoke with an energy and glow that we hadn't had since the divorce was initiated. Things moved quickly.

Dr. Wilson gave Gillian a report that the girls were suffering with their mother in jail, and that Justine especially would need constant counseling if she could deal with it at all. I provided an affidavit that said that I was more than willing to provide liberal visitation by Arlene, and that I had arranged for her to get a job as a paralegal with the law firm that handled most of my company's legal work.

After Gillian and I shared two completely earth-shattering simultaneous orgasms Saturday night she told me that the chances were good that she could get Arlene released on probation within a month. For that she received the best massage a non-professional like myself could manage; then I stimulated her clit and nipples until she begged for mercy.

After the girls visited Arlene on Sunday, I went in. I didn't want to beat around the bush.

"Arlene, here are the psychiatrist's reports on Justine and Cybil, my affidavit, and a letter offering you a paralegal's job from Johnson and Dunn. I've talked to your prosecutor, Gillian Hogan, and she is willing to file a motion with the Court next week asking for your supervised release."

I remained silent while Arlene looked over the documents. She started to cry. Then I showed her photographs of the Pissarro painting and Sisley sketch hanging at prominent places in her former home. She broke down and sobbed openly into her arms, folded on the table. The guards looked at her but didn't intervene.

I put my hand on one of her hands. She looked up. "Thank you," she said about ten times.

"I'm pleased to try and help. I hope that you know that just because Gillian is going to ask for relief that the Court may not grant it. So don't get your hopes up too much," I said softly.

"With your affidavit, the doctor's report, and prison overcrowding I don't see how the judge can refuse," she replied. "But I'll keep my expectations down until the decision; and don't tell the girls."

"I won't," I responded with a big smile. We squeezed hands, I picked up the papers, and just before I left I felt obligated to tell her one more thing.

"So it doesn't come as a surprise to you later, Gillian Hogan and I are lovers. I'm not sure where it's going, but it is going somewhere."

Arlene recovered from her initial shock, then smiled and genuinely said "I'm happy for you. I hope that it works out."

_______________

Things moved quickly – on all fronts – after my second meeting with Arlene. Gillian filed her motion on Monday, got a hearing scheduled for Tuesday morning of the next week, and shared the entire weekend in between with the girls and me, including a fun "sleepover" both Friday and Saturday nights.

I attended the hearing to provide testimony in addition to my affidavit if the judge required it. He did. I answered all of his questions completely, even tearing up – part real, part acting – at certain points during my testimony. I told him that my daughters were my life and that allowing them to be with their Mom outside of prison would be the best thing possible for them.

The judge granted Gillian's motion, ordered Arlene's release from prison the next Saturday, put her on probation for four years conditioned on her keeping a job and staying out of trouble, and entered the liberal visitation order I had asked for.

I gave the kids the good news that afternoon, and Gillian got special dispensation from the warden for Justine and Cybil to call her that night. Both girls and Arlene cried their eyes out with tears of joy.

I rented an apartment for Arlene that was as close to our house as possible, had her stuff from storage moved there, and picked her up at the prison on Saturday. I insisted that Gillian accompany us.

All of us went out for dinner, and I agreed to let the girls spend Arlene's first night home in her apartment. Gillian and I picked up Arlene's car – which I had used occasionally and kept at our house – and dropped it off at her apartment so that she could bring the kids back to our house Sunday afternoon.

When Gillian returned with me to my house Saturday night we made a simple dinner and then sat down for a heart-to-heart.

"Gillian; we both value directness, so I'm going to be candid; and don't give me any of those sultry looks that you're famous for while I'm talking, got it?"

"Yes sir," she replied with a smile and fake salute.

"We're moving fast; but it's not too fast for me. I got to know you very well as a person when we worked together surrounding Gillian's trial. I've gotten to know you as a woman in the last month. You're everything that I could want; I've fallen in love with you. I want you to move in with me, and ultimately if you decide that I'm worthy of you, marry me."

"WOW!" she whistled. "I thought that I was outspoken, but I'm a novice compared to you!"

"Well...." I said since she wasn't saying anything more.

"You'll probably find out I'm not that great after a few months, but if you're stupid enough to still want to marry me after six months of living together, I will. But I'm not selling my townhouse unless we do end up hitched."

Without further ado I picked Gillian up, ripped her clothes off as I carried her to "our" bedroom, and had the best fuck (actually two fucks) of my life!