An Attorney's House Rules Pt. 02

An Attorney's House Rules Part 2

All characters are at least 18 years old.

Author's note: I'd recommend reading the first story before reading Part 2 here, but to each their own. This story is posted to the Mature category. It could also fit under interracial romance, older woman, or probably another half dozen categories. Oh well, such is life. One man's coffee is another man's tea.

******

Debra Delaney's heels clicked, echoing through the room, as she made her way across the office lobby. She exuded confidence, intimidating the lobby crowd to part like the Red Sea as her long legs purposefully strode to the elevator. She exited on the 5^th floor of the downtown office building where the local district attorney's offices were located and marched straight into her personal office.

She closed the office door and sat down at her desk to collect herself. She spent last night at the mercy of a young 21-year-old black man, she had taken in, Jamal Parker, and the realization of her submission still confounded her. She was always the strong firm one, and she never compromised her principles or sacrificed her authoritative nature for any man. She woke up this morning determined to reestablish her assertiveness.

She got up early after a sleepless night and marched out of the house dressed sharply in a black business skirt and crisp white blouse under her black blazer jacket. Her look was accentuated by pointed knee-high black boots over her black nylons. In a different environment, she could almost pass as a dominatrix, but in this office space, she was the feared district attorney and office manager. Well-respected and intimidating, she commanded attention, and her directives received prompt attention.

The office phone rang.

"Ms. Delaney, the defense attorney for the Adams case says his client is willing to negotiate a plea bargain," her secretary said.

"He's got nothing to offer for a plea bargain. He can plead guilty to avoid a full trial, but the judge can sentence him as he pleases. There's nothing to negotiate on this one; there's no deal to cut."

Debra hung up the phone. She was in her element, in control and with total command of the moment.

******

The work day passed as so many others had before. Debra felt like herself again. She was forceful with the defense attorneys trying to argue for lesser charges against their clients, and she had little mercy for criminals. She displayed a dogged determination to enforce justice for victims and their families, and she was good at her job.

The rest of the office avoided her throughout the day as much as possible. She seemed to be on a war path, even more surly and critical than normal, and the file clerks, legal assistants, and legal secretaries in the office recognized her foul demeanor.

She heard the word bitch mentioned behind her back, and it always amused her. When a man takes charge, he's seen as a strong leader. When a woman takes similar actions, she gets labelled a bitch. At this point, it was almost like a badge of honor, and she relished the devotion she received from the rest of the office.

They all recognized she was not only highly competent, but one of the best prosecutors in the whole state. Her 98% conviction rate attested to this fact. When she gave the staff orders, her commands were promptly carried out since she was always right, so there was no need to second guess her.

She was taller than most women at 5'8", almost 6 feet in the high heels she typically wore. Her figure was physically striking, her body lean and fit from regular cardio. If she carried herself or dressed differently, she might be regarded for her beauty, but her attitude and stern face pegged her as a no nonsense professional.

If you were ignorant but cocky, that was a lethal combination, she mused. A law office would see right through that charade and have little respect for that leadership. She was brimming with self -confidence, but her confidence was backed by her legal expertise and courtroom record. She didn't have to fake anything. She was the walking, talking real deal, so defendants feared her, while the judges and other prosecutors held her in high esteem.

There was talk of nominating her for a judicial position. She had been a district attorney for quite a few years now, and as she neared 50, she was starting to think that a new challenge in her life might be warranted. Debra considered that option, but there was a certain satisfaction in representing the prosecution and bringing justice directly on behalf of victims or their families, and she wasn't sure being a judge would bring the same degree of satisfaction.

Debra fumed as she drove home that afternoon as she resolved to regain the upper hand in her relationship with Jamal. Though she enjoyed the festivities of last night, the control she ceded shook her to her core. It was her house, and he was just a boarder, someone she allowed to stay in her home for a few weeks until he could get back on his feet. In the end, he hadn't done anything she didn't allow, and that's what ate at her. She didn't regret the sex. Debra wasn't a prude, and embarrassment wasn't in her range of emotions. Quite frankly, she could almost feel residual reverberations from the orgasms last night still rippling through her body. She didn't care too much that Jamal was only 21 while she was (gasp) almost 50, that he was black, that he was destitute, or even that she had sent him to prison 3 years earlier. After all, it was her house and her rules. But she let Jamal take control of her, and she was determined to rectify that. She set to reestablish the pecking order and take control of him.

Debra passed Jamal's white commercial van in the driveway as she pulled into the garage. For a brief second, she wondered what the neighbors thought of the sight of Jamal's van constantly parked at her house overnight. She quickly extinguished that concern as irrelevant since she wasn't prone to neighborhood gossip.

That night at dinner, they sat on opposite ends of her long dining table, eating from the delivery she ordered from her favorite Italian ristorante.

"Jamal, we need to talk about last night," she started.

"Yes, ma'am."

At least he still seemed respectful and deferential to her. He hadn't turned into an asshole after conquering her last night, she reasoned. She let him stay in an extra guest bedroom, on the condition he take care of the house maintenance, until he saved enough money to get back on his feet. She noticed the vacuum marks on the carpet when she got home, and the yard had been edged since this morning. He was at least still holding up his end of the bargain. This presented an encouraging sign, and her spirits lifted. Maybe she could have the best of both worlds -- a man at her beck and call to satisfy her sexual needs AND take care of the house maintenance. Debra wasn't interested in marriage, and she was beyond the child birth years. She wasn't prone to drama, and she didn't need a man to bare her soul to. But someone to help get her off rocks when she wanted and take care of the manual labor, well, that could be interesting, she pondered.

"We did some things last night. I'm not ashamed of it, but a lot of what we did - I can't let that happen again," she continued.

"I know, ma'am. I won't tell anyone. You don't need to worry." Jamal's pointed his eyes down as he talked.

"Thank you, but I need you to know. I'm not sure what came over me last night. And some of the things -- some of the things I let you do to me last night were things -- they were things I shouldn't have let you do." Debra drew a deep breath. "We can have a relationship, but it has to be on my terms."

Jamal's eyes picked up as he looked at her with a blank expression. "Yes, ma'am."

He was not a man of many words, she concluded.

"As long as we have a common understanding, everything should be fine," she finished with a dry smile. He might not be an intellectual, but he was honest and hardworking, she thought to herself. And not bad looking. She'd have some fun with him tonight.

******

After dinner, Debra went back to her bedroom upstairs, while Jamal sat down in the den to watch a game. A short while later he heard Debra calling down to him. He came upstairs to her room, where she waited for him. She'd changed into a black mini dress, the tops of her black stockings peeking out from under the hem. She had on taller heels than normal, so she towered over Jamal's 5'5" stature.

"Take off all your clothes and then lie down on the bed," she commanded.

Jamal did as he was told.

"Stretch your arms out," she said, after he laid down.

She proceeded to use ribbon to tie his wrists to the bedposts. He watched her carefully take her time as she bound him. Then she proceeded to use additional strips of ribbon to bind his legs to the feet of the bed. He was naked on the bed and completely at her mercy. His face was calm and serene though as she proceeded to blindfold him with the next strip of ribbon.

Debra admired her handiwork. Jamal was helplessly tied up, but she could see his cock stiffening. She remembered how that cock felt last night when he buried it in her, and she felt a rush of wetness seep below.

She reached under her short dress and pulled her panties down to her ankles before stepping out and kicking them to the side. Jamal closed his eyes under the blindfold and took a deep breath in anticipation. Ms. Delaney had been good to him, and he was certain she wouldn't start doing him wrong now. He felt his cock harden in anticipation of what was to come. With his eyes blindfolded, his other senses were heightened, and he readied himself.

Jamal felt the bed shift as she climbed onto it. Then he felt one of her legs kick over his torso. He could feel the tip of her heels brushing against his legs and her short trimmed pubic hairs skimming his torso. She lifted herself back up and shifted forward. The next thing he knew, his airflow was cut off as her pussy smothered his face, and she rubbed it viciously into him. He felt her pussy lips dragging across his mouth and smelled the scent of her sex and arousal. He tasted her wetness as her pussy juice quickly coated his face and seeped past his lips, leaving a salty and metallic taste on his tongue.

"Stick out your tongue," Debra ordered, as she lifted herself off him.

Jamal complied with the command. Debra used her hands to spread her pussy lips before lowering herself back down, dropping her exposed pink flesh directly on his tongue. Jamal lapped at her pussy, flicking his tongue across her labia and exposed clitoris.

"That's my boy," Debra panted repeatedly. "Lick my pussy. Eat my pussy. Make me cum."

She ground her pussy against Jamal's face, seeking as much touch and pressure against her aroused pussy as possible. She bucked wildly against his face, desperately seeking to release the orgasm building inside her. She leaned even farther forward, her hand hands gripping the headboard for support as she ground her pussy into Jamal's face as hard as she could.

Jamal could hardly even breathe, but she'd lift herself off every few seconds, giving him just enough time to catch his breath in between. She started to wail, screaming mixed with crying, as she came close to cumming before slowing down. Did she cum? He wasn't sure, but she shifted back and rested on his chest, her pubic hairs rubbing on his chest hairs.

Jamal felt Debra's long nails drag along his cock, teasing him. He was rock hard and turned on by Debra's seduction. Then she shifted even further back until her pussy lowered down onto his cock.

"Oh my god," Debra sighed.

Her pussy felt so warm as it enveloped his cock. She worked him, bouncing furiously. Debra was close to an orgasm and wasn't slowing down until it hit. Still blindfolded and unable to see past the ribbon, Jamal felt her lean forward, putting her hands on the headboard to brace herself. Her titties bobbed in his face, her nipples teasing him as they brushed against his cheeks as her body slid back and forth on his fully erect cock. He blindly reached his mouth out to take in her tits, and she offered him a tit to suck. First her left one, and then her right. All the while, she rode him hard until she felt his body tense up as his orgasm approached.

Jamal couldn't hold back the release any longer, and he came. He felt wave after wave of cum spurt out of his cock, shooting deep into Debra's pussy.

As soon as he finished cumming, Jamal felt her lift off him. His cock flopped to the side as it was released from her pussy. Then he felt her weight shift forward, and the next thing he knew, a glob of goo splattered across his face, some of it oozing into his mouth.

He froze, not knowing how to react. Debra let the cum drip out of her pussy and deposited it on his face. He was tasting his own cum, and she lowered herself back down on his face once more to continue rubbing his own cum into his face as it spilled out of her pussy. He tasted the salty gloopy mixture in his mouth.

"Swallow it," she whispered. And he did.

******

The next day at work, Debra's mood was considerably brighter. She accomplished everything she set out to do last night. She enjoyed Jamal's sexuality more than she cared to admit, but what was he to her? He was useful around the house, and he largely kept to himself and out of her way when she wasn't fucking him. He seemed to be hard working and clean and responsible. She had set house rules, and he adhered to them. She originally took him in until he could afford a place of his own, but now she wasn't so sure she wanted him to leave.

He could never be a significant other. He was an ex-con. An ex-con she had prosecuted. And he was almost 30 years younger. It didn't matter that he was black. Well, it shouldn't matter, anyway.

Though she was getting older, she maintained her figure and had position and money. She could have her pick of men, but she also didn't want to be tied down to marriage and all the commitment baggage that entailed. She wasn't willing to sacrifice her career ambitions, and she didn't need emotional support from any man.

What the hell was she doing? She couldn't tell any of her friends or colleagues about him. Oh God, what would her mother say? She wasn't ashamed of their relationship. She didn't do shame or regret. Still, her relationship with Jamal didn't make sense on any level. What the hell did they even have in common besides the sex? She wasn't sure, but he served a purpose, and maybe that was good enough for now.

******

Jamal Parker worked across town, painting an office building. The feel and taste of his own cum still lingered in his mouth. This woman was a freak, he concluded. The other girls he'd been with were nothing like her. Some of the girls enjoyed sex and rode him hard, but no one had ever used him like Deb did last night.

Was she trying to turn him into a sex slave for her? Is that all he was to her, just a piece of property? A slave? What was she, like a white master or something lording over him? Was she using him? For sex? For house maintenance? Did he care? She let him stay in the house with his own room for no rent. Maybe it all evened out. The sex was good, and if you'd told him last week he'd be living in a mansion and having sex with a stunning white woman, he'd have said you were smoking something.

What was he doing with his life? He was barely a month out of prison. Did he want marriage and kids? He knew he could never have it with Debra. He knew he'd never be an equal in her eyes, at least not publicly. Still, maybe she was a means to an end. Whatever their relationship was, it was at least ok for now, he thought to himself.

******

That night, Debra was exhausted from a long afternoon spent in court. She'd spent the afternoon on her feet in her high heels presenting the prosecution's case and examining a string of witnesses. The questioning went well, but it was tedious and exhausting, and now her back ached, and her feet felt sore. She may as well use her newly established dominance over Jamal to her advantage and put him back to work, she figured.

Jamal and Debra were in the den, resting on separate sofas while a reality show streamed on the tv.

"Jamal, would you rub my feet?" she asked as she slid off her heels, fully revealing her stocking clad feet. She pulled her legs up, resting them to her side on the sofa cushion.

Jamal looked at her for a second from the opposite couch. She was a sexy alluring woman, and she knew it. His face was expressionless as he knelt in front of her feet and started rubbing them.

"Mmm," she murmured. She marveled at the sight of Jamal at her feet. His strong hands almost instantly relieved all the soreness in her feet.

"Long day at the office, ma'am?"

"It's always stressful on a court date. It's always mentally exhausting, and then I was on my feet almost the whole time, too. But I think we proved our case. The defense has their work cut out for them. Their guy is guilty, anyway. I don't know why they're pleading innocent."

He had a long day at his job, too, Jamal thought to himself. How hard was it physically to be a lawyer? Try working manual labor. You think you're sore, lady? You've got no idea.

"Maybe you should let me give you a back rub, too, ma'am?"

Debra repositioned herself, facing away from him, so he could reach her back. He shifted his hands to her back, starting at the top near her neck.

"You're good at this," Debra admitted.

Jamal heard her softly sigh. "Why don't you lie down?" he asked.

The back rub was working so well, Debra thought, why not. She repositioned herself again, this time lying down on her stomach. Jamal placed one leg on each side of her and stood above her, looking down on the district attorney's backside. She looks good from behind, too, he noted.

Then he resumed the back rub. He pulled her blouse out from where it was tucked into her skirt, and then reach his hands under to work her lower back. Debra responded with more sighs of approval.

"It'd be easier if you took off your top, ma'am," Jamal proposed.

Debra looked at him warily, but his hands were releasing all the tension in her back. Her back felt like butter melting in his hands. She reached under to undo the buttons, and then Jamal pulled the blouse off. She felt his rough calloused hands resuming their work on her bare skin. A minute later she felt her bra unsnap, and his hands reach around to pull her bra down and cup her breasts. Her defenses were crumbling, and as Jamal leaned in to kiss the back of her neck, she felt his erection rub against her ass.

Debra realized the situation was quickly evolving. Whereas she started out in control, commanding Jamal's actions, now Jamal lay on top of her, and her arousal was evident. Should she stop everything? Did she even want it to stop?

She felt her skirt zipper become undone, and then her skirt was pulled down.

"Pantyhose, ma'am," Jamal observed, as he began rubbing her firm ass.

"My legs look better with nylon covering them," she admitted. "Plus, it's cold in the courtroom. They help keep me warm."

"Is that so, ma'am?"

"Mm-mm."

Jamal knew she was his now. He pulled down her pantyhose to reveal her thong underwear. Then he pulled the underwear to the side, revealing her asshole. He poked a finger at the rim of her asshole, and then continued reaching farther south till he felt her pussy opening. Just as he figured, she was damp.

"You enjoying the back rub, ma'am?"

Sighs of approval were returned. A small voice in Debra's head warned her that she would soon be at his command, but it was drowned out by the tingling and growing tension of her arousal as Jamal's fingers worked her pussy. She lifted her pelvis slightly to give him easier access, and he accepted the invitation to probe her further.