Considerate Boyfriend Pt. 04

Sydney twisted abruptly to look over her shoulder at her mother. Oxman's eyes followed along with hers to the defense table. Betsy was no longer protesting. She now appeared to be quite pacified and eager to cooperate. Instead of being spread over the length of the table, she had switched the Sheriff's and Deputy's positions and was now leaning across a corner of the table, busily fondling the Sheriff's balls and gorging her mouth on his cock while Deputy Sillen impaled her time after time with his big bore sex pistol. Betsy seemed quite restrained now.

Sydney took a long moment to observe her mother as Betsy dutifully submitted to the will of the court before she commented to Justice Oxman, "Goodness, but I never realized until now just how much my mother enjoys sex . . . and how good she is at it!"

The Justice watched in fascination as Betsy's ass quivered and shook with each slap of Deputy Sillen's belly. "Mm-hmm," he agreed at last, clearly enthralled by the sight of Sydney's mother fucking and sucking eagerly away, completely consumed in the endeavor.

"Do you think my mother is a slut, Your Honor? Or do you think she is doing something she truly loves and that she is very, very good at?"

Oxman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before answering. I believe the fact that Sydney was continuing her slow, two-fisted strokes over the length his massive cock may have hampered his thinking considerably. Finally, a faint smile played across his lips.

"I've never seen anyone look so . . . so . . . intent on doing exactly the right thing and . . . moving in perfect accord with . . . her partners. She moves with the grace of a . . . a . . . ballerina, the Justice labored to say. "The three of them move as one."

"Is that how a slut moves, Your Honor?"

Betsy, the Sheriff and his Deputy were only a few feet away. I could hear each grunt, each gasp, each squeal as the trio labored away at pleasing one another. It was Justice Oxman and Sydney who drew my attention, though. I watched as Sydney carefully set about making a case for her mother and herself with the Justice of the Peace.

Sydney sat frozen in Oxman's lap. She stared into his eyes. Her hands ceased their stroking. She was waiting for an answer from the Justice.

It required more than a moment for Justice Oxman to snap out of his stupor. "I-I . . . don't know what to say. . . What was the question again?"

"Is my mother a slut? Am I a slut, Your Honor? Simply because we enjoy sex and we work to be very good at it, are we sluts? Should we be punished for behaving like that," Sydney demanded and turned her gaze to the sight of her mother pinioned between two stiff cocks. She turned her eyes back to the Justice, looked down at his cock rising up between them and asked, "Am I a slut because I can't keep my hands off of your big, magnificent cock? The sight of it takes my breath away, you know. Does it make me sluttier if I tell you that?"

Oxman shuddered a bit when Sydney resumed her slow stroking motions. I think her touch shocked his brain back into action again.

"Ung!" he grunted. "You and your mother are most definitely not sluts, Sydney. You've convinced me of that. . . But . . . you must accept the fact that you've broken the law."

The Justice began to pluck and twist at one of Sydney's nipples before he added, "You have caused several married men in our community to at least stretch their marriage vows and, as I've been told, many of those men at Vera's bar tonight gave you sizeable tips which might cause some children in our fine community to miss a meal or two. Did you think about that?"

It was Sydney's turn to squirm now. "I - well - no! Did Mother and I do that?" she asked, a little panic-stricken by the thought of men depositing their children's lunch money in the sticky little socket between her legs. "I feel so guilty now!"

"Perhaps now you understand why we have laws against the sort of lewd behavior you ladies exhibited," he intoned solemnly, "Do you agree with me that this wild night of dancing cannot go unpunished?"

Oxman was now tormenting both of Sydney's sweet nipples. The one I could see was already quite puffy and swollen.

"Does this mean jail time for us?"

"No," he said with a laugh, "Usually this sort of transgression calls for several hours of community service and after speaking with both you and your mother, I believe I have found a fitting form of community service for you both."

"I could make restitution from the money I made tonight," Sydney suggested, "So could my mother."

"But who would you repay, dear? The men in Vera's bar aren't going to come forward and they're not about to take your charity if they did."

Sydney finally shrugged and accepted Justice Oxman's logic. "So, I guess we're going to pick up trash along the highways for a few weekends?" she halfheartedly suggested.

"No!" the Justice of the Peace snorted, "No. Look at your mother over there and what she's doing."

All three of us turned to watch Betsy. She was currently seated in the Sheriff's lap, impaled on his cock, her ass rising and falling slowly over the length of it while she took long, hungry slurps at Deputy Sillen's stiff member with her straining lips. The trio was so consumed by their work, and they were totally oblivious to the fact that they were being watched.

"I've never seen a more beautiful, mature woman who was so devoted to pleasuring men in my life. And I have a hunch you inherited that same lust for life from your mother. Why, just look at you! Look what you've been doing ever since you sat down in my lap!" the Justice told her.

It was true. Sydney's hands - both of them - were steadily, absentmindedly stroking away at his cock and I don't believe they had paused for more than a few seconds in all this time in his lap. Clearly, she drew comfort and deep connection from touching, embracing his manhood.

Sydney suddenly looked down between them and gasped with a start. "Oh, my goodness! I had no idea! The whole time?"

"Yes, dear. The whole time. And I don't think you can stop yourself. You have a natural penchant and a god-given talent for such things," he told her with a knowing smile, "Why, I'll bet that even as petite as you are, you could swallow more of my cock than most women!"

Sydney grinned at that. I silently nodded in agreement too. She and I both knew that was true. I had to give all the credit for her accomplished skills to Tommy, her last boyfriend.

"Are you prepared to hear my verdict, Sydney?" asked Justice Oxman. He had withdrawn his fingers from her sore and agitated nipples and waited for her answer.

"Yes, Your Honor, I am," she replied bravely. I noticed her hands never lost their grasp upon his cock and never paused in their loving strokes through all of this. Not once.

"It is my finding that you, Sydney shall serve twenty hours of community service over the course of the next five weekends. The terms and conditions of your service shall be overseen by me in consultation with Sheriff Docker and Deputy Sillen. It is my hope that at the conclusion of your hours of community service you will be rehabilitated and will no longer find it necessary to engage in lewd acts of public dancing. We will endeavor to correct your wayward tendencies and replace them with healthy, wholesome behaviors. I intend to pronounce a similar sentence of community service for your mother - as soon as the Sheriff and his Deputy have sufficiently restrained her. It appears she is continuing to resist," the Justice observed.

Sydney's mother was now straddling the Sheriff who was spread out atop the defense table. Her taut round ass was frantically moving like a jackhammer upon his stiff cock. Her tits were swaying and bobbling across the Sheriff's face and the poor officer was struggling without success to capture one of her nipples as they furiously flailed away at his face.

Deputy Sillen sat slumped in a chair beside them, completely spent and unable to move. Next, I glanced at the Sheriff who was still unsuccessfully chasing Betsy's nipples as they darted over his face. He reminded me of one of those silly cat-chasing-the-laser-light videos. Finally, my eyes came to rest on Betsy's taut MILF ass. Deputy Sillen's cum was dripping down her ass cheeks while she happily slammed away at the Sheriff's stout cock. I suddenly realized that Betsy was the only one in this courtroom who wasn't restrained. She was about to force the Sheriff to unload his big gun inside her any minute now. From the looks of things, it was going to be both noisy and very messy.

Justice Oxman interrupted my concentration by asking Sydney a bit too loudly, "Are you prepared to commence your community service now?"

Sydney was so jarred by his question she paused in stroking Oxman's big pillar. "N-now? - Right now?" she blurted out in dismay.

"Yes, dear. There is no better time than the present to put yourself on the right path. Now - this instant - would be the perfect time for you to begin your time serving the community and repaying your obligation to become a better citizen."

"What must I do, Your Honor?" Sydney asked with a frown.

"It might be easier for me to show you, to guide you through it," he told her, "Now if you'll just ease yourself off my lap and kneel down right here between my legs, Miss dePoet."

I looked on in dismay as Sydney knelt before the Justice. Her pixie-like body disappeared gradually until I could just see the back of her cute blonde head above the Justice's bench. To my amazement, through all her movements, from her rising to her kneeling, Sydney's delicate hands never once left Justice Oxman's lap and never once stopped their stroking.

"Is this the community service you want me to perform, Your Honor?" Sydney asked in an almost childlike voice.

Oxman's voice had grown more shrill when he answered this time. I supposed he had grown more excited by now or perhaps Sydney was more anxious and had begun to squeeze his cock more tightly. "Yes, my dear! But the requirements of your community service may be much more demanding than you might imagine!"

"How do you mean?"

"Sydney, administering and enforcing the law can be a demanding and stressful job. There have been decisions I have rendered that I later regretted, and I regretted them because they were rendered under a great deal of stress. My decisions are all quite final and even though I may have regrets later, I cannot rescind them. One of the keys to rendering fair, honest, just decisions is in managing my stress," he explained.

"Gosh . . . Is this how can I help, Your Honor?" she asked with great sincerity. I noticed her hands never faltered in their steady up and down motion even as her earnest concerns rose over the mere mention of serving justice. "Could I really make a difference? Am I going to help others to get true justice?" she asked. Clearly, this mattered a great deal to her.

"Certainly," the justice told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh my!" Sydney sighed out solemnly. Immediately her head dipped out of sight and then began to bob up and down in the Justice's lap.

"O-h-h, Sydney . . . Sydney! . . . Sydney!" Oxman shrieked until he was finally able to check her eager plunges into his lap. I could tell from the panicked look on his face and his labored breathing that he had come close to losing control of the situation during the short time the defendant had been allowed to begin her sentence of community service.

Even as she paused to look up, Sydney's hands never flagged in their steady, but distracted stroking. This was shaping up to be quite a struggle for the Justice of the Peace. I knew from personal experience how downright disruptive both dePoet ladies could be when their hearts and souls had been ignited in the pursuit of a noble cause. Right now, Sydney was inspired by her earnest desire to see justice served at some higher level. I could only look on and hope Justice Oxman would realize he would not be able to stop Sydney in her quest for justice, but he might be able to redirect her passionate efforts.

The young defendant gulped, took a deep breath and wiped her mouth, "Isn't this part of my community service, Your Honor?"

"Yes - Yes - but it is not that simple," Oxman paused to catch his breath before continuing, "I never sentence defendants to such simple things as picking up trash along the roadside. I intend community service to challenge defendants. If you commit a crime, you must at least try to change - to improve yourself - to learn from your mistake!"

He let his words sink in for a moment, though I don't think Sydney truly understood. For that matter, I wasn't sure either.

"I expect you to grow, to improve, to learn from your night of indiscretions, dear. By the end of your hours of community service I expect you to be able to take on all of my truth! Do you understand, my dear?"

Sydney's body stiffened. From her position between his knees and the way she turned her gaze toward his crotch I could tell Oxman's meaning was now blazingly clear to her. "But -but . . . Your Honor! It's so big! How could I ever-?! . . . It might be too much!"

This was the first time I'd ever heard Sydney express doubt or reluctance about anything. I also noted that her hands never slowed, never hesitated in their long, steady, absentminded strokes in his lap, even as she faced the formidable prospect of throwing herself upon the full mercy of the court.

The Justice gazed down into Sydney's upturned face for a long, hard moment and scolded her, "There would be no opportunity for reform and no possibility of improvement unless there are great expectations placed upon us!"

Sydney mulled this over, shifting her gaze from the Justice's eyes to the object of her concern and then back again. "I will do my best, Your Honor," she told him and then added with determination, "My absolute best."

"Very well, then. You may continue with your community service."

Sydney went straight to work. I watched as her head began to bob up and down. I could tell from my own intimate personal experience with her technique, even from this distance that Sydney was running her tongue over the full length of his glory from balls to crown as a prelude to the serious efforts which lay ahead. I also noticed her head was traveling an especially long distance.

She spent much longer passing her tongue over his cock than I expected. This puzzled me until I suddenly realized just how much real estate this blonde pixie was being asked to cover with that sweet pink tongue of hers. Justice Oxman had slumped back in his chair and had closed his eyes seconds after Sydney resumed her community service. Aside from the occasional slap of Betsy's firm bottom against the Sheriff's belly and a groan from one or the other of them, the courtroom was overcome with silence.

"Sydne-e-y!!" screeched out Justice Oxman. He was sitting bolt upright with both hands pressed flat on the desk. His wide-eyed gaze was fixed in his lap.

I had become fascinated by the rough, relentless rhythm of Betsy's ass slapping away at the Sheriff's pole in a most determined, almost frantic manner and I hadn't witnessed the cause of Oxman's scream. It amazed me that the Sheriff and Betsy could go on and on like this without exploding together like a big, ripe cherry bomb. When I looked up, Sydney was nowhere in sight.

"O-h-h-h, Sydney! I've never- never felt that!" Oxman was still breathless and screeching, but now he'd begun to stare wild-eyed into his lap. "How do you do that?"

Seconds later, Sydney shot up out of his lap, sputtering and making the most unladylike choking and gurgling sounds. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and, still out of breath, asked, "Am I serving justice correctly, Your Honor?"

"Oh yes, dear!" he huffed, "H-h-ow?? . . . I never had anyone who could-!"

Sydney didn't wait for an answer. Instead, her head ducked out of sight once more as she went back to work. She was certainly taking the Justice's sentence of community service to heart.

At that very moment the Sheriff came to life beneath Betsy's thumping, relentless pile-driving strokes. He began to whimper and his whole body set to shuddering. For a moment I thought it might be a seizure, but he quickly began to whine and beg, "Please, please, oh please, oh please!" over and over.

If it was mercy the Sheriff wanted from Betsy, she would have none of it. Instead, she slammed her tight, round ass hard against his belly and set to smearing her pussy up and down his belly as if she were basting a turkey. The Sheriff lost all control and began to erupt inside Betsy's seething, grinding twat with abandon. He attempted to grab her ass but failed. It was moving too fast to be caught.

I actually believe Betsy was doing her damnedest to suck every last drop of the Sheriff's cum out of him with her pussy. "Give it to me! All of it! Give it a-l-l-l to Betsy!" she commanded in a guttural voice. "Fill Betsy!"

Betsy's performance was so loud, so arresting that even Justice Oxman and Sydney's activities at the bench came to a halt. The Sheriff continued to grunt and shudder beneath her grinding hips. Oxman stared on in astonishment, Sydney's activities in his lap forgotten for the moment. Soon even Sydney's head popped up into view and she turned to stare at her mother riding the poor Sheriff like an exhausted and now broken bronco. She did not stop until the Sheriff had been reduced to a barely breathing, whimpering heap of sweating goo.

Satisfied the Sheriff had given her every last drop of justice he could muster, Betsy halted the hammering drive of her hips, smiled wickedly down at him and then kissed him ever so passionately. A moment later she climbed off of the Sheriff's flagging, glistening pole and dropped to her feet on the floor.

She was striding with determination toward the bench when she called out, "Can I help?" She was standing beside Oxman and her daughter gazing down at them before either of them could answer. "Oh, my! Your Honor, did I hear you right? Do you actually expect my daughter to attend to that!"

The Justice looked up into Betsy's shocked brown eyes and answered matter-of-factly, "Why yes - I do expect her to perform her sentence of community service right here and exactly in this way. In fact, I expect you both to perform twenty hours of earnest, meaningful service that will benefit both our community and your character in this way."

Oxman paused for a long moment before pronouncing the remaining details of their sentence. During this lull both Betsy's and Sydney's eyes were fixated on Oxman's lap. "And while you are performing this particular form of community service you will be supervised by Deputy Sillen, Sheriff Docker or myself. Is that understood?"

Both ladies nodded long and slowly, I think, in part because they had been mesmerized by the spectacular sight unfurled before them in Justice Oxman's lap. In addition, I believe they had already begun to imagine the challenge posed by serving justice in such a demanding manner.

"Yes, your Honor," Sydney finally replied.

Sydney's words seemed to spur Betsy and she asked, "May I stay and - and see if my daughter needs my help?"

Her question drew a quick guffaw from Oxman, and he answered quickly, "I believe your daughter is managing her community service in amazing fashion, but you're welcome to watch if you like. Come closer so you can see better. I doubt it, but you might learn something from your daughter."

He clasped Betsy's hand and drew her down to her knees beside him. Turning to the petite young daughter between his knees he pronounced in principled fashion, "You may resume your efforts now, Sydney. I know you will do your best."