Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2016 23:51:44 -0500 From: eric jones Subject: Attorney-Client Privilege, Chapter 3 * This is a work of fiction. My experiences and likes influence all my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden... Any similarity with actual people or places is entirely coincidental. * This story involves interracial sex between adult men. There is lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant. If any of this offends you, please leave now. * If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for any reason, please leave now. * Please consider making a donation to Nifty. Your donations make this resource possible for all of us to enjoy! --------------------------------------- Chapter 3 - Client Conference My job is to get people off. Now I had to get Tyson Anderson off. Again. For the second time in just a few hours. The scenes are very different - from a bathroom to a courtroom. But both require some skill. And a willingness to do what it takes. Dude needed something from me a few hours ago. He needed a willing hole. Now he needed a willing advocate. Looking at him across the table in the little meeting room at the courthouse, I wanted to help him. Hell, I actually "wanted" him in the physical sense, but I also wanted to help him legally. That was then, this is now. Two totally different scenarios. Or are they? I live to serve... The peculiar coincidence of us being paired up like this and it's effect on me was starting to wear off. That was then, this is now. It was time for business. My client was one step ahead of me. TYSON: Chill, Sheena, take the boy and go sit in the court. SHEENA: Naw, Imma stay right here and make sure your ass don't say nuthin that gonna get you in more trouble, or locked da fuck up... TYSON: I said CHILL. Let me handle business. His voice was a harsh whisper. It was clear he meant business. I had heard that tone before. The insistent whisper between clenched teeth. Sheena looked like she was getting ready to say something. TYSON: Go. He spoke more softly this time, but still in a serious tone. TYSON: I can handle this. Please. He almost sounded reasonable just then. I could see how persuasive he could be. Sheena still looked like she wanted to say something. She wasn't moving. Tyson kept his eyes on her. She was staring back at him. Neither of them was paying the least bit of attention to me. He won. Sheena stood up, rolled her eyes and turned to walk away with the young son Tyson in tow. SHEENA: Whatever. She wanted it to sound like she was irritated, but it wasn't convincing. Even to me. The door closed behind her and I was alone with him. Again. I took another moment to ponder the situation. Here I was, formally representing a criminal defendant. A few hours earlier I had sucked his dick. Although we didn't know each other at the time, and neither of us had any idea I would end up as his lawyer this morning, the ethical considerations facing me at this moment were interesting, to say the least. A lot of folks think being a lawyer is all about posturing, making speeches and planning that "gotcha" moment that wins a trial. The reality is much more mundane. And much more serious. There are literally thousands of rules regarding what you can, can't, must and mustn't do. Those rules cover nearly every facet of life and work. Who can pay you, how much you can get paid. Who you can represent. There are even rules about having sex with clients. Until just now that last rule had seemed kind of silly. I mean who would fuck their client? Now I knew... Many, if not most, of the rules involve conflicts of interest and ethical and moral obligations to your clients, the courts and to justice. The no-sex-with-clients rule was designed to prevent a variety of potential conflicts - everything from not taking advantage of those who are looking to you for professional, unbiased advice and counsel, to not allowing yourself to be distracted by or biased towards someone because of a relationship. To sum it up, being a lawyer is supposed to be a position of trust. An officer of the court. The consummate professional, above and beyond the weaknesses and limitations of those untrained in the art of law. There are rules about this sort of stuff. For a reason! But... It wasn't really my fault. I mean the rules can't possibly hope to address a situation like this. There was no way we could know this would happen. It wasn't his fault either. Just to be on the safe side I could walk away now. There are dozens of other lawyers walking around this courthouse now who I could swap cases with. That would be the MOST ethical course of action. To eliminate any chance of conflict I could cure this problem. Yep, the ethically cleaner path is to find Tyson another lawyer. Done. It will only take a minute. I'll have him another lawyer in ten minutes... But... Is punting him to another lawyer the ethical thing to do, really? I mean not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty good at this lawyering stuff. I have established working relationships with the judges, prosecutors and even some of the law enforcement officers. And some of my court-appointed colleagues aren't the sharpest legal minds. Finding him a GOOD replacement lawyer on the fly might take some doing. I wouldn't want to just stick him with any random joe. That wouldn't be justice. That wouldn't be ethical. And our "relationship" wasn't really a relationship at all. It was a random, anonymous hookup. There wasn't a conflict when you think about it. I didn't even know him. I might never see him again. It wasn't like we were going to do it again... I heard a growl. I couldn't understand the growl. My mind was racing. I needed to pay attention. That growl might be important. I had heard that growl before. I needed to come out of my haze and listen. This time I heard him clearly. He could tell my mind was wandering. TYSON: I said, come here. ME: I'm sorry, what? TYSON: Come here. ME: Uh... I... Uh.... TYSON: Damn, come here, man. I stood up. I wouldn't have far to go as he was just a couple of feet away. TYSON: Nah. I stopped. Ok, what now? TYSON: Get on ya knees. He could see the look on my face. ME: But. Uh... The door doesn't lock. Anyone could... TYSON: Lemme worry about da door. All you gotta do is get down on ya knees. Damn, this was crazy. On the other side of that door was at least 150 people, including sheriffs deputies, lawyers and the public. Plus his irritated and nosy girlfriend. Anyone could open that door and walk in. It happens all the time. There was no way I was gonna... TYSON: On. Your. Knees. As he slowly, deliberately and quietly said those words he pointed towards the floor. There was no emotion on his face. I can't imagine the look on mine. It's one thing to be a freak. I love doing freaky, kinky things. I don't even mind a bit of outdoor or exhibitionist sex. But it has to be somewhat private. I'm not turned on by really dangerous situations. I will suck a dude off in the woods or in his car, but I'm not going to do it on a busy subway platform or in a park in the middle of the day. The imminent fear of being arrested doesn't make my dick hard. There was almost surely an armed, homophobic bailiff standing two or three feet on the other side of that door. A courthouse meeting room wasn't the place for a hookup. To even try something here was the very essence of insanity. I was just going to have to say no. This was a step too far. Without saying a word, Tyson pointed at the ground again. What was I, some kind of a dog? His gesture was clear. He wanted me on my knees. I just stood there. Seconds were ticking by, I have no idea how many. Not getting his point across successfully, Tyson gestured again towards the floor. And this time he narrowed his eyes. Body language and facial expressions can say a lot. He was tired of waiting. Before I knew it, I was on my knees. I didn't make a conscious choice. But there I was. The expression on his face cleared. He was back to no expression at all. I sat there on my knees for a while. The ball was definitely in his court. The hard floor under my knees made that abundantly clear. TYSON: Crawl ova here. Crawl? God, this was going from weird to weirder. Alarm bells were going off in my head. It was time to run. I should get out of this room now. But... I began to crawl. I slowly shuffled on my knees. The only logical thought going through my head was the dust stains that were going to be on the knees of my dark dress pants. Funny the things you think about... Even crawling towards him on my knees only took seconds. He was still sitting in his chair, but as I approached he slid back and shifted the chair slightly so he was facing my direction. I came close enough to nearly touch him and stopped. I never took my eyes off of his. I could smell him and feel the heat from his legs in front of me. The alarm bells in my head had stopped ringing. There was a different kind of ringing going off now. Tyson extended a hand towards my face and rested the tip of his index finger on the tip of my nose. He held it there for a second. He never broke eye contact. Slowly he slid his finger down my nose and across my lips. He pressed my bottom lip down slightly, and once he had my lips open he pushed his finger forward into my mouth. My mouth opened instinctively. I could taste soap on his fingers, and smelled the stale smell of a cigarette. He slowly pulled his finger out of my mouth, leaving just the tip of his finger inside, before he slowly pressed forward again. I felt his knuckles pressing softly against my lips, as his finger slid slowly over the top of my tongue. As my dick hardened, trapped in my pants below, my sucking instinct took over and I started to roll my tongue around his finger while applying just the slightest suction. This was a natural reaction. I think I might do the same thing to just about anything put in my mouth. At least anything attached to this man. I heard a growl again. This time it was soft and quiet. And so close. I focused. The taste of his skin was so distracting. TYSON: I need ya to fix this. He pulled his finger out slowly and slid it back in. TYSON: Ya can get me off. Simple shit fa you. He slid his finger in again, but this time pressed forward a bit more forcefully as his knuckles and fingers pressed against my lips. Out of instinct I opened my mouth more. I would never have been able to take this dude's huge hand into my mouth, but a cocksucker just reacts a certain way. He took this as an opportunity and slid two fingers in on the next pass. I closed my lips around those two fingers and started sucking and licking, tenderly and with care. TYSON: Ya can do dis. I couldn't really speak with his hand in my mouth, but then again, he didn't really want me to speak. I was on my knees. TYSON: Ya like me inside ya, huh? I moaned a little. My answer was clear. TYSON: Ya like being told what to do, dontcha? I moaned a little more. I kept licking and sucking on those two fingers. I liked having him in my mouth. TYSON: Ya don't want me to go to jail, do ya? I didn't. He wasn't lying. TYSON: Don't want some other bitch lickin' on ya shit, do ya? Huh? On that last word he pressed harder and deeper. He knew I would open my mouth wider. A third finger joined the assault party on the next slide. TYSON: Ya get me off and ya gonna get dis dick. He was slowly pumping his three fingers in and out of my mouth. It was a strange feeling. A strange substitution for sucking dick. But my dick was hard, and I was in no mood to argue. Tyson knew. TYSON: Ya know ya like it. He pressed his fingers down on my tongue a bit more on the next pass, going a little deeper than before. TYSON: Do this shit, man. In and out, picking up a little speed. TYSON: Do ya fuckin' job. He took his other hand and placed it on the back of my head. He pushed forward with his three fingers while he held my head in place. He was ever-so-gently face fucking me with his hand. This was a new one on me. TYSON: Get me da fuck off. On the next time in he stopped, leaving his fingers pressed deeply in my mouth. Without pushing too hard, he made sure his fingers were planted. TYSON: Fix it. All of the sudden he pulled both his hands away. I felt empty. I looked up at him and caught that stare. He had just pulled out. A feeling no fuckee ever wants to experience. Almost in slow motion he moved his hand back towards my face. With his index finger alone he pressed against my lips and slid the one finger back in. He was as careful and gentle as can be. I took him in without hesitation. He left that finger in my mouth as I went back to bathing him with my tongue. As I tried to show him the proper attention, I felt him leaning forward. I could feel the heat from his body as he leaned completely over so his head was beside mine. His face and hair brushed against my skin. We were literally face to face. I felt his lips graze my ear. I almost thought he was about to nibble and kiss on my earlobe, but he stopped just short. Instead he whispered. TYSON: Ya got my seed in ya belly, bae. Right now. Ya can prolly still taste me. I need ya now, bae. Ya gotta help me. I'm a part a ya now, we gotta look out fa each other. He pressed his lips against my ear completely as he slowly removed his finger from my mouth. He placed his hand on my check, cupping my face with his spit-soaked fingers. TYSON: I. Need. You. He was imploring me. His words hit me like an arrow. With that he sat back and slowly looked away. The look on face was one of sadness. At that moment I had one mission in life. I was going to help my man. There wasn't a moment to lose. I stood up, straightened myself up and went back to my chair. I looked his paperwork in earnest now. Drug charges. Pot and a few pills. Petty shit, actually, compared to what comes through the courts every day. I suspected he had a record. Otherwise he might never have been charged. That would make things a bit harder. But nothing is impossible. I'm his lawyer and he needs me. And my dick was still hard. I looked up at him and caught that stare again. The sadness was gone from his face. I couldn't tell what his expression was now, but in my mind I convinced myself it was a look of confidence. Confidence in me to help him. ME: Umm, ok. Let me talk to the DA and officer and see what I can do. He nodded slightly. ME: I guess we should go on out. I stood up first and started towards the door. I heard him following behind me. As I walked out in to the crowded courtroom the first person I saw was Sheena. There she was, with Tyson's son in her lap. She was playing on her phone. Not even paying attention to her man. Probably lining up some more dick and a place to drop off his son if Tyson went to jail. I was done messing with her. I headed to the front of the courtroom and passed the bar. There was a big crowd of lawyers crowded around the prosecutor's table. They were there to try and talk to the DA. This was where deals were made. Although I knew it would take some time, I had to get in line somewhere. I approached the gaggle of lawyers and tried to discreetly make my way forward. Ten or so minutes later I finally made it to the table. The DA looked up at me and smiled. DA: Hey, Sy. Wassup, man? ME: Chris, hey, man. Didn't know you were working in here today. DA: Yup, just my luck. Back in district criminal for a few days. Back down here with the unwashed masses while some dumbfuck is on vacation. He chuckled and so did I. ME: Well, welcome to the real world for a few days. DA: If this is the real world you can fucking keep it. We laughed again. DA: So, what you got Sy? Murder? Prostitution? Rape? ME: Not today. Maybe tomorrow. I handed him Tyson's file. ME: I do need a favor, though. He glanced down at the file and then back up at me. DA: Anything for a friend, man. Anything for a friend...