Call Me Tom
An acquaintance referred her to the lawyer on Wilshire Boulevard in Santa Monica.
Living in the West Valley, she drove Topanga Canyon to the Coast Highway, through Malibu. She opened the windows letting the breeze blow through her hair. Breathing the salty air calmed her senses.
Angela had little experience with attorneys, but she actually felt composed after the ocean drive.
She decided to wear a light blouse with a conservative skirt. Something that didn’t show a lot of leg or cleavage. She thought it best to dress demure. But she never wore a bra. It was her feminist statement.
The law firm was on the 7th floor of a high rise. A glass elevator swished her up to a spectacular view. She felt seasick stepping out into the reception room, where a secretary ushered her down a hallway.
“Mr. Harrington”, the secretary motioned as she slid the door open to an office with another impressive view of the Pacific.
A man stood behind a desk.
“Tom Harrington”, he said.
He was probably in his forties. Tall, dark, and handsome. He was wearing a pinstripe suit with a yellow silk tie.
She shook his hand, “Angela Stone”.
“Please, Angela, sit”. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
“Call me Tom, please”
“Tom, I have a situation…”
He didn’t seem to be listening. It was very chilly with the air conditioner blasting, and Angela realized he was staring at her taut nipples through the thin silk fabric of her blouse.
He stood and removed his suit jacket while he was supposed to be listening, then sat, adjusting himself in the leather chair.
He leaned across his desk, “ Angela is there anything you can tell me that might hurt you in court?”
She confessed that she had been working as a photographer’s model, and that her ex could possibly use the information against her.
Tom looked at Angela’s chest again, “I think I have everything I need to know for now”
Angela squirmed a little because his voice had changed.
He cleared his throat, then revealed the amount of deposit it would take to retain him as her attorney.
“I’ll need to think about it”, she said.
He nodded in understanding, “Angela, you take your time and call me, no rush, but if you still have questions perhaps we could meet for a drink next time, to discuss it?”
“That would be nice”, she smiled, knowing she could never afford his retainer.
Tom stood and walked to the door. Angela followed. He closed the door and locked it. She turned. He gripped both her arms and pushed her up against the door, pressing his bulging groin against her body.
He said fiercely, “Forget the drink, we’re going to do this right here!”
She helped him unbutton her blouse and allowed him to fondle her breasts and suck her nipples while she ran her fingers through his hair.
She slid one hand down to feel his hard cock through his trousers. His hand went up her skirt. He ripped her panties down. On one knee he explored her wet cunt with his tongue and fingers. They fell to the floor and fucked in front of the window with a spectacular view of the ocean.