A Mother: Tempted and Seduced

What was stopping her, was a fear that openly acknowledging the subject would make it exist in reality, and, if that happened, she knew deep down that she would succumb to her daughter's advances.

"Alright mother, I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, but I don't think you want me to really."

"I'm making tea, would you like one?" asked Fiona in an attempt to introduce some normality into the conversation.

Fiona was relieved when Annabelle decided to change the subject.

"Yes please, I'd love one. So, are you ready for your big case this week?"

"I think so, I think we've got a good chance of getting her off, it was her partner that did the real damage."

********************

Fiona's legal team were defending a female police constable in her mid twenties. She had been charged with assault, her partner, an older, much more experienced male officer, had been charged with murder. They had been called to a disturbance at the home of the deceased. The male officer had tasered the man, and was accused of kicking him in the head and upper body. The female officer had used her baton and it was alleged that she had struck the man twice across one of his arms and his back.

The case was high profile because the deceased was a well known guitarist with mental health problems, and it would attract lots of news media attention. The male officer was being represented by a legal team from the chambers where Annabelle was currently working. The trial was scheduled to last a week, in the end, it lasted two weeks.

Throughout the trial, Annabelle knew that she needed to support her mother, and to make life easy for her. She still kissed and fondled her every morning and evening, but she didn't come on to her like she had been doing lately. The case was covered on the national and regional tv news, and was in all of the national daily newspapers.

On the first day of the trial, Annabelle watched the BBC TV national news, followed by the regional programme. The film footage showed the defendants and their legal teams arriving at Crown Court and climbing the steps up to the entrance. Annabelle watched her mother walking next to her client, the camera lingered on them both; two sexy women in pencil dresses and heels. She imagined that many thousands of men up and down the country would be watching and fantasising about fucking her gorgeous shapely mother. When Fiona arrived home, after their by now mandatory hug, and kiss on the lips, they talked about the case in detail and Fiona explained her team's approach.

"You were on the tv news mother, you looked fabulous, so sexy, how did it go in court?"

"Quite well I think, did you see the defendant?"

"Yes, she's not quite how I imagined her, nothing like those photos of her in her police uniform."

"Good, that's part of the plan, her best hope is to put plenty of distance between her and her colleague. She's young, and we're presenting her as a novice copper under the supervision of an experienced colleague, we're trying to lay all of the blame at his doorstep. That shouldn't be too difficult because it's mostly true, but we're not leaving anything to chance. Did you see how she dressed, and how she carried herself?"

"Yes, she looked quite sexy too."

"That's because I advised her on her appearance. Appearance isn't everything with a jury, but it can go a long way. I told her that she needed to look sexy, yet vulnerable, to wear figure hugging dresses, not too short, a respectable knee length, and high heels, but not too much makeup. I suggested that she should walk tall, but she mustn't on any account smile, and she should try to cultivate a slightly injured look."

"Well it worked perfectly, that's just how she came across. The cameras dwelt on the two of you, no one else got a look in. God, you should have seen the footage of your two shapely backsides swaying up the court steps in your high heels, you've got this in the bag."

"Not yet darling, there are lots of detailed legal arguments going on at the moment, but the cross examination should get started tomorrow, or maybe on Wednesday."

After dinner, Annabelle spent the rest of the evening with her mother's stockinged feet in her lap, treating her to a welcome foot massage, then stroking her calves and ankles as they watched tv. From time to time, as her mother shifted the position of her legs slightly, Annabelle was treated to a view up her skirt. The stocking tops and suspender clips looked very sexy, and on one occasion, she got a good look at her silky white panty gusset.

"Let me up darling, I want to go and change out of my work clothes."

"That's a shame mother, I was just enjoying the view," confided Annabelle as she gazed at her mother's shapely legs with her skirt riding half way up her thighs, "did anyone ever tell you what gorgeous legs you've got?"

"Yes darling, and you've managed to inherit them."

Annabelle was still in her work attire, and her black miniskirt had also ridden up her thighs as far as the beginnings of the lace welt of her barely-black hold up stockings.

"How are things at work darling? Are you enjoying the job?"

"The job's okay, nothing special, but it's a really interesting place to work."

"Now that Sophie's out of the picture, have you got your eye on anyone special?" Fiona braced herself, she knew the question was stupid mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"There's only one woman that I'm interested in," she replied as she stroked her mother's knee. Fiona gently pushed her hand away.

"Annabelle, please don't."

"I'm sorry mother, I promised myself that I wouldn't pester you while you'd got this big case on. I won't do it again, I promise. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?"

"Yes please darling, that would be lovely."

Annabelle came back into the longe just as the ten o'clock news was starting on the tv.

"Oh look mummy, there you are, I told you that you looked great on tv. I'm going to dine out on this for a long time."

After the headlines, the first news item was the trial, Fiona watched herself climbing the court steps with her client, and was secretly pleased at how professional, yet sexy and attractive, she looked. She'd had messages from close friends and colleagues, all telling her how good she looked. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a message from 'DuPont.S' which said 'Still as foxy as ever Hathaway, there's a warm place between my thighs waiting for you if you're ever down this way.'

Fiona basked in the knowledge that the gorgeous Sylvie was still turned on by her. She was also pleased with the news report, she felt that most men would have fantasised about getting into her client's panties, and most women would find it difficult to believe that such a demure, feminine looking woman would be capable of violence.

The news reports were aired on a daily basis throughout the whole trial. Fiona got used to seeing herself on tv; walking to the court in her high heels and pinstriped skirt suit, or pencil cut shift dress. Annabelle looked after her well, she was as tactile and flirtatious as ever but she didn't cross the line by attempting overt incestuous seduction. Instead, she masturbated daily with her new vibrator, sometimes twice a day. She loved to watch herself, in the bedroom mirror, as she pulled the hem of her short skirt up over her stocking tops, before slipping off her panties and inserting the irresistible implement into her wet cunt.

The jury was sent out to reach a verdict on the Thursday afternoon of the second week. On the Friday morning, Fiona took special care with her outfit and makeup. She wore a black six strap suspender belt with matching balcony bra and panties, black opaque stockings and her black four and a half inch stilettos. She found her shortest pinstriped skirt, from the back of her wardrobe; she hadn't worn it since the days of her affair with Sylvie DuPont. It was tight, pencil cut style, and the hem was six inches above the knee.

She adjusted her suspender straps to their shortest setting and wore her longest stockings. Every morning so far, the press and tv cameras had practically 'upskirted' her as she climbed the steps to the court entrance. Several of the trashy, salacious tabloid newspapers had used these images extensively on the pretext of reporting the trial. She wanted to tease them today, to show them as much shapely leg as she dare, but not enough for them to catch a glimpse of her stocking tops.

Her fitted white cotton blouse looked classy, and showed no trace of her black underwear. Her auburn hair was taken up in an unstructured chignon that looked sophisticated yet, effortless. This would be her last filmed walk to the court building and up the steps to the entrance; she wanted to make her best impression yet.

She knew that she'd been dubbed as 'the sexy solicitor' on social media and that, together with her curvaceous client, she had caused quite a stir, and had attracted numerous online proposals of marriage. The public mood seemed to favour her client, Fiona knew that, for better or worse, this was partly down to the way she had advised her to dress and comport herself; she hoped the jury had been similarly influenced.

Fiona had booked a taxi to get them both to work. She knew that, win or loose the case, she would end up in the pub celebrating, or drowning her sorrows, and would be in no state to drive home. Annabelle was waiting for her in the hallway when the cab arrived.

"The taxi's here mother," she called up the stairs.

"Okay, I'm coming."

Moments later Fiona appeared at the top of the staircase. Annabelle's heart leapt at the sight of her sexy, sophisticated mother.

"My God! You look absolutely stunning, you'll crash the social media sites today. Come and let me hug you."

"Careful darling, don't damage the goods," said Fiona as she surrendered to her daughter's embrace. She felt Annabelle's hand on her buttocks and her thigh pressing into her pussy. She didn't object, in fact she kissed her daughter playfully on the lips.

"So, do you think your Mummy is hot?"

"Fuck yes, whatever the outcome of the case, I'm going to have my prize tonight."

"Oh Annabelle stop it, you know you shouldn't say things like that, even in jest."

"I'm sorry mother, but I've been holding back for two weeks now, I haven't pestered you, but the dam's about to burst," replied a feverishly lustful Annabelle.

"Come on, don't be silly, you need to find yourself a nice girl to relieve you of some of that pent up desire."

"I've found one, I just need her to realise that she's mine."

Fiona caught sight of them both in the hallway mirror, two shapely, miniskirted women in heels, pressing together in a clinch; they looked made for each other, she felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her daughter passionately, to run her hands over her firm body. A horn sounded from outside, it broke the spell of their sensual embrace and they hurried out to the waiting taxi.

********************

The verdicts were delivered just before lunch, Fiona's client was found not guilty, her colleague officer was found guilty of a lesser charge of manslaughter, and would be sentenced during the following week. Pandemonium erupted in the court room, there was cheering mixed with shouts of 'shame' from the public gallery, journalists were scrambling to get comments for their reports.

Fiona, her barrister and their legal team congratulated one another, their mood in stark contrast to the team from Annabelle's chambers, who'd had the task of defending the guilty male officer.

As the throng left the courtroom, Fiona's client managed to make her way from the dock to where she was standing. Her client held her close for almost a minute in an emotional, heartfelt hug.

She cried 'thank you, thank you so much, you've saved me' over and over into her ear. Her tears of joy ran down Fiona's neck, she breathed onto her ear and her lips rested on her earlobe; however unintentional it might have been on the part of her client, Fiona, already high from the outcome of the case, felt hugely aroused, she wanted to kiss her client on the lips, and imagined fucking the tearful woman as she held her close.

The woman eventually released her, and they agreed to meet again in Fiona's office during the following week, for a debrief, and to tie up loose ends. A sudden strong feeling of desire passed between them, Fiona decided that if, when they met, a remnant of that erotic charge remained, she would ask her client to go to bed with her.

Fiona, her client and the legal team grabbed coffees, and spent twenty minutes drafting a statement that Fiona would read out, to the press and tv reporters, on the court steps at two-thirty. When the time came, she stood flanked by her legal team, her client, and her client's parents and sister, in front of a mass of microphones, and a battery of flashing cameras, while she calmly and assertively read out the detailed statement.

She knew that these images would dominate tv and newspaper reports for the next twenty four hours. She also knew that social media sites would be full of, mostly, men that wanted to fuck her. To calm her nerves, she imagined them all on their knees, clutching at her skirt, and begging her to let them fuck her. She felt magnificent, she felt as though, for a few minutes, while she read the statement to the massed throng, she was the nation's dominatrix.

After the statement, her client and family thanked her again, and she went to celebrate with her legal team. On the way to the pub, she sent a message to Annabelle, "WE WON," followed minutes later by another message, "At pub now, will be home late and probably half pissed."

Annabelle was delighted for her mother and sent her congratulations. She got home in time to watch the six o'clock news. She was so proud of her gorgeous, sexy mother, she started to finger herself while she watched the very attractive blonde haired newsreader, an occasional subject of her masturbation fantasies, say her mother's name, and show footage of the statement on the steps. She knew that the local news would probably air an even longer report at six thirty, so she went into the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine, poured herself a large glass and messaged her mother again, "Mother, Don't get too drunk, and don't be too late, I've got plans for us. xxx."

After going up to her room to remove her panties, and fetch her vibrator, she settled herself down in front of the tv and made inroads into her large glass of wine. She refilled her glass as the regional news came on, opened her legs, pulled her miniskirt up to her hips, admired her lace stocking tops and her shaved pussy with its 'landing strip,' and plunged the buzzing sex toy into her wet cunt. She came twice as she watched the report through hooded eyelids, but she saved her third, and most intense orgasm, for the moment when her impressive and imposing mother read out the statement on the steps.

She left the tv on as background noise, and waited impatiently for her mother to come home. She knew that she'd probably be a couple of hours yet, so she eventually decided to have a long lazy bath, after which, she took special care with her makeup, and laid out her skin tight jeans, and fluffy angora sweater, on her bed. She put on clean pale-pink underwear and 'volumised' her long dark-red hair, so that it fell sexily over her shoulders, back and ample breasts.

While Annabelle was preparing for the night of her life, her mother was still soaking up the compliments and congratulations in the pub; she'd soaked up a fair amount of alcohol as well. She'd had lots of text messages, including an offer of a date with an old acquaintance that she'd slept with several times over the years. She ignored his message, but as she was reading it, a message from her client flashed up on her phone.

"Thank you again, so, so much. I can't thank you enough, you've saved my life, if there's ever anything I can do for you, please just say the word, I mean anything!!!"

The message was signed off with a big red heart emoji, followed by an imprint of red lips. Fiona could picture her client, slightly drunk, feeling very uninhibited, shutting herself away in the toilet for a moment to escape family celebrations, and sending her the message. Her pussy twitched as she composed her reply; she too was feeling uninhibited.

"If you want to show me how grateful you are, wear your blue dress and those black stilettos when we meet next week."

As Fiona watched the three ellipses pulsing in the WhatsApp dialogue box, she knew that a response was on the way.

"I'll wear the dress if you promise to help me out of it," came the amorous reply.

"I'll help you out of your stockings too."

"How did you know I wear stockings?"

"I didn't."

"I see, you're too clever for me. I usually wear hold ups, but I'm guessing you want the full works?"

"Of course, I'm touching my pussy now and thinking about undoing your suspender clips," lied Fiona for erotic effect.

"Oh fuck, you're making me wet, you know how to turn a girl on don't you?"

"I've had plenty of practice. You?"

"Me what?"

"Have you been with a woman before?"

"No but I've often wanted to."

"Well you're going to get your wish."

Fiona closed her phone case and joined in the banter again. A few minutes later she was still holding her phone in her hand when she felt it vibrate. It was a message from Sylvie DuPont.

"So Hathaway, I'm not used to being ignored, I want to fuck you, get in touch."

Fiona typed her response, "The balance of power between us has shifted, I've got the upper hand now, I'll fuck you when I'm ready and not before," her finger hovered over the send button for several seconds, then she deleted the message and put her phone away. Ms. DuPont could wait for now.

Back at home, Annabelle zipped up her skin tight jeans and stepped into her ferocious black stilettos. She was impatient now, so she picked up her phone to message her mother. As she did so, she hoped that Fiona was happily drunk and uninhibited. She planned to ply her with a large gin and tonic if necessary, she wanted her just drunk enough but not so drunk that she'd pass out and spoil her plans.

"Sexy Mummy, please come home, I'm missing you. Your Darling Daughter xxx," she attached an emoji showing two women and a big red heart. Fiona responded straight away.

"Darling Daughter, Taxi just arrived, shd be home 10 mins, looking fwd to your hugs and kisses xxx."

Fiona was happily drunk and didn't mind flirting with her daughter, but she had no idea what lay in store for her. Annabelle watched from the lounge window as the taxi pulled onto the driveway, her mother emerged from the cab, and swayed slightly as she made her way to the front door. Annabelle moved swiftly into the hallway and opened the door before her mother could get her key into the lock. They hugged warmly and kissed briefly on the lips.

"Hello Annie you lovely daughter, I'm sorry, I've had a little too much to drink darling."

"You're telling me, but don't worry mother you deserve to let off a bit of steam."

Annabelle realised that her mother was a little worse for wear, and if she was going to take her mother in the way she intended, the last thing Fiona needed was more alcohol.

"Help me with my jacket darling."

She stood behind her mother and lifted her jacket off her shoulders, as she did so, a waft Fiona's perfume mixed with the musky, slightly sweet natural odour of her body, aroused her greatly. She guided her mother through to the kitchen and sat her down on a chair. Fiona crossed her legs, her miniskirt rode halfway up her thighs. Annabelle breathed out a long slow breath of approval through her nose as she feasted her eyes on her half drunk, but gloriously sexy mother. Fiona looked very desirable showing plenty of shapely leg in her stilettos, her fitted blouse emphasised her breasts, slim waist and flat stomach.