The Lawyer and The Policewoman

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fermpera
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Mother and Auntie Marion (Dr. Taylor) had been best friends since before they were in elementary school and had been together until Marion went to Medical School at college while mother left college to marry my abusive father. So after she was slapped and not wanting for my grandfather to know, she called her friend, Marion, and told her what had happened. Marion, who is gay, has been in love with my mother since they were in high school and learned what love and sex was, went to our home (both mansions are next to each other, separated only by gardens and a small fence) and took matters in her capable hands.

She took pictures of mother's battered and bruised face in case they were needed for the police, and went to where my father was sleeping his drunkenness off and unceremoniously woke him up. Once she was sure he was almost coherent, she told him in no uncertain terms that she would cut his dick and family jewels off with a butcher knife, not a scalpel, and he would sing soprano for the rest of his life if he touched my mother again in any way. He never touched mother again and I would be the victim of his deep hate and rage years later.

Marion took matters in her capable hands a few months later after I was born and rapidly growing. She told mother she should divorce my father and end her disastrous and loveless marriage. She also told mother she was gay, was in love with her, and would always be there for her and the baby, me. At the same time, she told my mother that she had to tell her family what was going on her life and her marriage. Mother was a little submissive and accepted Marion's suggestions (no orders, just subliminal orders) but didn't want a divorce; she was educated a Catholic and asked her friend to accompany her to talk to her parents. My grandfather on mother's side is a widower and a very strict person, loves his baby as if she was still 3 years old, and won't tolerate any harm done to his baby even if she is almost fifty years old now. He was almost fanatic in the well-being of his two babies at that time.

He went into a frenzied rage when Marion told him what was happening in our lives, and swore he would see that son of a bitch dead. Mother tried to calm him and reasoned it would better for the family's interest to just let him know the family monies were out of his reach, and they would divorce if he insisted, using the pre-nuptial document. That document established that each of the spouses would get just what they had brought to the marriage in case of divorce. In my father's case his only substantial contribution has been a little auto parts factory whose contracts in the last years he had gotten because my mother's family contacts.

My father lived in another wing of the house from that moment on, never speaking with my mother except in the not so rare occasions when he needs a bank loan and my mother's family money is the guarantee. My grandfather made sure my father couldn't get the family money in any way. He established two trust funds, one Mother's, and one mine. Mother could her money any time she wants, but I'll only have access to the trust money once I'm 35 years old. My mother administers my fund in the meantime, and whenever I need money, I never do, she signs for me to get the money, of course. That was how we were living as an estranged family until the day our lives would change forever.

I had a bedroom near my mother's suite so she could keep an eye on me and be sure I was well. I was happy and got accustomed to have two mommies and the shadow of a father I almost never saw. I learned of it later, but my father needed a new bank loan or he could lose his factory, and my grandfather refused to guarantee it. So I had played till 10 PM that heinous night and went to mother's bedroom and saw her and Aunt Marion together in bed each reading a book. I told them goodnight, gave them each a kiss, and went to bed as usual.

It was late, dark inside my room and outside the windows, when I was awakened by a hand covering my mouth. I didn't know what was happening, but I was terrified. I suddenly felt cold and a hand lowering the sheets and bedspread to the foot of the bed, and then a hand trying to push something hard and hot inside me. I bit the hand that covered my mouth and started yelling. I was terrified and calling my mother and my aunt to help me while I heard the man over me babbling incoherently with a strong odor of alcohol as he said something like: "You little shit, Y...you gonna pay, yeah you gonna pay for that fucking dyke bitch...the fucking dyke of your mother," or "She has not given me an...any pu...pussy in years...well, I'm taking yours....Ha, Ha, Ha... let's see how she likes...."

There suddenly was a feral cry and the man was yanked from me. There, like a lioness, was Auntie Marion with my mother at her back, pulling the hair of my father's head to take him off of me and hitting him in the face, body, or wherever their fists and nails reached. Once he was on the floor, Marion kept kicking him in the crotch with her naked feet until he fainted.

Then it was what to do with him, call 911 and the police, or fix the problem privately. Mother took me in her arms and I couldn't react, I was horrified and in a catatonic state. I was like a body without a mind or a soul; I was deeply in shock. I went to two years of therapy with a psychologist friend of Marion's after the attempted rape by my father, and Mother later sent me to a school in Switzerland where she thought I would totally recover from my trauma.

My family privately fixed my father. They removed all financial support to him; the banks made him pay the loans effective a week later, and he promptly went bankrupt. Mother filed for divorce, and her lawyer privately told my father not to resist or he would be publicly accused of the attempted rape of his daughter. He accepted the divorce, but not before threatening revenge against my mother, death revenge. My grandfather sent a couple of security boys to let him know that his life would be over if any of my family were injured in any way. End of story.

The Swiss school was a very prestigious old school for young ladies. It was an Old Catholic nuns' convent in a very old building; eighteen century, I think, and the nuns' fame was they were very rigorous; well not so much so. The girls' dorm was separated from that of the nuns' and had been a gymnasium at one time. It must have been quite modern by the standards of the day, because connecting the dorm to the side was an adjoining big room which I suppose had been the once a month 'bathing room'.

There was a bench running along the entire circumference of this room, which must have been about twenty feet square. A big tub was in the center of the room, the biggest I've ever seen, probably twelve feet by twelve feet, or something like that. Anyway, usually at least twice a month and at night, some of the girls -generally the oldest, and don't forget that all the girls came from rich and powerful families in Europe or America - would round up some wine or other hard liquor, I think with the complicity of the nuns, and have a bath party. It was really something mandatory to attend and no one was permitted to be out the room. We'd just sit around in or around the bath without a stitch on, and would drink and talk and play...games. You know girl stuff, lesbian sex. It was really a debauchery sometimes. I was so shy and aloof that they left me alone, and I never participated in the sexual games or in the practice of sex, which was always among the girls and nuns; there were most often always some of the nuns supposedly watching, not always the same ones.

I never participated in the sexual games, not once; I watched, but I loathed the loveless sex. Sex was actually something disgusting for me after the episode of my rape had killed any sex drive I could develop in me, and had turned me into a sexless person. I was very aloof, very shy, and I never let anyone touch me. I had no interest in sex in any form or manner. Sex for me was something related to violence. I perceived sex could be something different just after I returned to the States, when I finished at my Swiss school at 18 years old, and saw my mother and Auntie Marion sweetly loving each other.

I went to college after I came back from Switzerland and later to Law School. I became a lawyer interested in family law and intending to worry about and protect the abused and beaten women of our city as much as possible. That's the reason why Nora was working for and living with me. Nora's case is one of the many I had worked with since I took the post of the shelter lawyer. What I thought of her at the time was that she was another abused and battered woman, and she had no place to go after the trial and her husband was sent to jail. The lease of their apartment was over and she had no place to go; so I offered her a job to work for me as a maid and to keep me company. I paid her 100 dollars a week plus room and food. That was several months ago, and everything seemed normal to me; I went to work and the house was clean and meals were ready when I came home.

Then I was awoken by a mouth licking my pussy late one night; it was a nice sensation, but it was unexpected and took me back to my bitterest night. I didn't know what to do, so I kept quiet and I felt my loins spam in a way I had never felt a few minutes later. I think it was something like a small orgasm, but Nora's pussy was over my mouth before I could react, and she was asking me to lick her and my head was between her knees. I knew what was happening because I had seen the same thing in school, but it was the first time for me and it was something I didn't want. Then she was talking dirty to me and asking me to do things I didn't want to do. She pushed down hard and I could feel something like viscous mucus entering my nose and drowning me that repugnant liquid penetrated my throat as I opened my mouth to be able to breathe. Then I was sick a few days later, and you know the rest of the story.

&&&&&

ANNE

It has been a week since I returned home after taking care of Beth, nursing her to health, and falling in love with her as a collateral damage. I haven't seen her in at all or got a phone call either, and I was a nervous wreck. I tried to get as deeply into my new work as a Lieutenant so I wouldn't have time to think about her and her life. We had to send a patrol car to the shelter three days later, a Thursday, and go to court, so I decided I would go in order to get to see Beth and ask her what was happening in her life and with our relationship.

I would be lying if I said she wasn't surprised to see me. She was profoundly surprised.

Her first words were; "Hi, Anne, I didn't expect to see you today."

"Good morning to you too, Beth", and she deeply blushed at that.

"Oh, sorry, Anne, good morning; I have been trying to get the courage to call you all week."

"Yeah? That's good to know. I have been expecting your call; I didn't want to invade your personal space by calling. My being here today is because we're understaffed."

"Oh."

Her exclamation hinted at her disappointment. I didn't know what she did expect; I had been very clear about my emotional and sentimental feelings for her; she had said she felt the same about me, and then nothing. It was as if two ships had crossed in the middle of the ocean and then nothing but emptiness and silence.

Since I wasn't going to play games, I took the bull by the horns, and said to her: "Alright, Counselor we can proceed to court whenever you are ready." I didn't say anything about us.

Her reaction to my cold words was one of sadness and despair; I really didn't know what she was expecting after almost 15 days of silence. She answered with a whisper; "We are ready, Lieutenant."

The trip to court was in silence, but I could see out of the corner of my eye how she peeked at me while I was driving, not knowing whether to start a conversation or keep silent. We arrived at court, Beth did what she had to do, and we were at the door of the shelter and again a couple hours later. It was me who took things in my hands when she was about to get out of the car. I took her arm and kept her seated; she looked at me with surprise and I told her "We need to talk, Beth."

With a tiny voice, she asked me: "What about?"

"About us, about where we go from here, and what it's gonna happen in the future; our future, if we have one together."

"Please, Anne, we can't talk here, can we get together someplace this evening?"

"Yes, of course, my place or yours?"

"No, not in my place nor yours. We'll go to a neutral place we both like to eat at, and have a walk in the park later, if that's alright with you."

"Yes, whatever you want. Is Mexican food OK with you? Right, let's meet at Cholo's at 7 PM?"

"OK, I'll see you at 7 PM."

*****

I was a nervous wreck for the rest of the day; I was bathed and in my closet looking for the appropriate clothes for my date by 5:30 PM? I finally decided informal; 505 jeans, white cotton shirt with no bra, a light dark blue coat, and flat shoes. I was parked in front of Cholo's waiting for Beth at fifteen to seven. I got out my car when I saw a taxi stop in front of the restaurant and Beth paying the fare, and went to her.

We had dinner, not strained, but no distended either. Conversation was fluid when we talked about inconsequential things away from any kind of intimacy. We finished our meal at last, and neither of us wanted dessert, so we paid and left.

We walked to the nearby park and taking Beth's hand, I led her to the nearest bench. I broke the silence after a few minutes of neither of us initiating the conversation: "Oh, Beth, what's happening with us? I want to tell you that these days without being able to communicate with you as we used to do are driving me crazy; I have feelings for you, strong feelings. I'm in love with you."

"Anne" her voice was a whisper, "I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what my Dear?"

"I'm afraid of being hurt again, I'm afraid to spend my life alone, without love, without someone to love me, but I'm essentially afraid of getting hurt again. You know what the person who was supposed to love me did to me. I'm terrified of love."

"My dearest, Beth, it doesn't have to be that way. You have another parent who loves you to heaven, don't forget your mother and Marion, and how much they love one another; that's the kind of love I want to give you."

"I just don't know if I..." She was in negative mode again so I cut her off.

"Look, Dear, if you want let's just take it slowly and get to know each other better, no sex for now, just spending time together, going to the movies, to plays, watching TV, or bowling if that's what you want."

"Bowling, I never ever went bowling, it would be a first for me. I didn't even know women went bowling."

"Yes we do, and it's a very good to make friends and unwind from the pressures of the day. We should try at least once."

"OK, Anne, let's try going slowly and see what happens; are you good with that?"

"Yes, my love, I'm good and you'll be good, I promise you."

"And another thing you don't need to worry about it, because you have been tested exhaustively not long ago, but I'm going to get tested so you can be completely sure I'm clean of any STD or HIV."

And that was how it was. We slowly worked on our relationship, but I was showing her my love at any time and in any circumstance. She learned to bowl and loved it; we took long walks chatting about anything of interest to both, we went to movies and plays, we even went to a rock concert. I shared the zest for life with her; a way of life that she hadn't known or even suspected existed. We talked about taking the next step six months later, going in a romantic date.

*****

I parked in the driveway when we got to Beth's, and we walked to the house hand-in-hand. I was trembling again - at least within. Though I had never before imagined being in love and making love to and with a woman, I knew I would have to pay a price; I would be taking a risk with my homophobic family and my work in the police force, but I also knew in my heart that the evening could and would end in only one way. We would be making love.

"Are you alright, my Dear?" Beth gently asked as she unlocked the door.

I smiled sweetly and nodded.

We sat side-by-side on the divan twenty minutes later, sipping tea, and conversing in intimate tones as soft romantic music played in the background.

"And I think the shelter could do better if you..."

I beamed lovingly at my love then shook my head, chuckling softly.

"An - what's so funny about that?"

I reached out and touched Beth's face, stroking it gently. "It's not that - it's you."

"What about me?"

"We promised earlier that we would not be discussing business or work tonight - and here we are, talking about how we shall change the world..."

"Oh...I'm sorry, my love," Beth said, taking my hand in her own.

"Don't be," I replied, "It's one of the many things I have come to love about you...your passion...your concern for all people..."

Yet again, we two women gazed at each other holding and caressing each other's' hands, eyes shining with love and affection.

Finally, Beth said, "Ann...are we going to talk about what happened at the movies?"

"The movies?"

"During the Michael Douglas picture we both liked - that neither of us was watching."

"You kissed me."

"And you kissed me."

Again, we were silent. I looked away and felt Beth's body pressing against mine as she moved closer. Beth's arms encircled me and drew us closer. She began running her fingers through my dark and short blond hair.

"You know what the happiest day of my life was, my love, even if I didn't know then?"

I said nothing. The sensations, the tingling emanating from the core of my womanhood between my thighs was beginning to overwhelm me at the moment, while my heart was pounding so hard, it threatened to burst out of my ribcage at the same time.

"It was the day I met you for the first time," Beth softly murmured, her lips brushing against my ear.

I turned my face toward Beth. I reached up and touched her lips, caressing them with such tenderness that Beth's lips parted and her eyes closed as she sighed with bliss.

Slowly - tentatively - I moved my hand around the back of Beth's neck and pulled her forward. Our lips met again in a soft, sweet kiss - not passionate yet, but warm and lingering. Beth hugged me close, her lips next to my ear.

"I love you so much, Anne...you are part and mistress of my heart and soul," she whispered.

"'Whither thou goest,'" I whispered back.

Beth pulled back to look in my eyes at that. She slowly stood up, taking my hands in her own and pulling me up so gently. She took me into her arms, embracing me tightly, moving her bosom back and forth slightly against my almost nonexistent tits. "Stay with me tonight, my love," she whispered.

Still moving slowly and deliberately, Beth led me toward the well-known path to her bedroom...

We were seated on the edge of the bed a few minutes later, side by side, holding each other and tenderly kissing each other's face and lips over and over.

With her lips against mine, Beth whispered, "Have you ever tasted a lover's tongue?"

I giggled. "Oh my love...Clint's only and thinking about it now, I found it repulsive. His lips were hard and the kisses brutal, demanding, not soft...and then yours that only time. That's my complete experience kissing or sucking tongues"

"Forget about, Clint, he didn't deserve you," Beth softly replied caressing my lips with her own. Our lips were parted, gently, teasingly; Beth touched my upper lip with the tip of her tongue - eliciting a gasp of surprise and pleasure from me.

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