Milla was confused, but understanding dawned a moment later when she felt his wet finger pressing against her asshole. “Oh, um, I'm not sure...” she trailed off. Milla wasn't sure how she felt about this, but as she moved forward to escape Ethan's probing finger, Jared's tongue slipped out of her pussy, and she instinctively shoved backward, forcing his tongue inside once again. In the same movement, her ass pressed against Ethan's finger.
She started forward, but as her cunt moved away from Jared's tongue again, she realized her predicament, but too late. Her body thrust back to meet his tongue once again, and the force of her movement pressed Ethan's finger against her ass and forced it inside her tiny hole. As she moved away once more, the glide of his finger in her ass made Milla moan. She hesitated, not sure she wanted to relinquish this new, incredibly naughty sensation. Ethan seized the opportunity and slid his finger fully inside her ass and then withdrew to his fingertip slowly. Milla moaned again and Ethan plunged in again while Jared continued thrusting his tongue as deep as he could in her cunt. Milla's moans got louder around Jared's cock and her body writhed wildly. Jared's hands came up to her hips to hold her still. He and Ethan both increased the speed of their thrusts and Milla screamed her orgasm, cumming harder than ever before. Her orgasm sent Jared over the edge. He groaned and bucked upward hard, and he shot his load in her mouth.
Ethan couldn't wait any longer. He had waited for years, suffered through a multitude of cold showers. He had taken his time today, made sure this experience was everything it could be for Milla, but now he needed inside her. He shucked his shorts and lifted Milla off of Jared's tongue like she weighed no more than a feather. Ethan laid her down gently on towel-covered sand.
“I've waited so long for this, Milla,” he whispered softly. His cock was poised to enter her.
“I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you.” The head of his cock slid inside her cunt.
“You've driven me wild for years.” Ethan thrust forward slowly.
“I want you, Milla.” He sheathed every last inch of his cock deep inside her, and groaned loudly.
Ethan didn't move for a moment. His eyes met hers and he held her gaze as he withdrew slowly. But before leaving the warmth of her pussy, he thrust forward again. His tempo increased and Milla's legs came up to wrap around him. Her fingers dug into his sinewy back as he plunged deep inside over and over. Their eyes still locked, Milla felt yet another orgasm building within her. She thrust her hips upward to meet him. And a moment later, she started to cum, staring in his eyes and spasming around his cock. It was too much. Ethan plunged to the hilt one last time and then he was cumming deep inside her cunt.
They remained that way for a moment, enjoying the aftershocks of their orgasms, and then Ethan rolled off, laying down next to Milla. She rolled against his chest and he wrapped his arm around her. Only then did they look up to see Jared smiling wryly at them. He'd redressed in his shorts and was sitting in the sand, leaning back casually against a large, smooth rock. Ethan smiled lazily, while an impish grin crossed Milla's face as her cheeks began to flame just a little.
It wasn't the only fun they'd share on their tropical getaway, there would be plenty more wild, wanton adventures. But, Jared could easily see that there was a whole lot more going on between his two friends than casual sex. And while he certainly had no intentions of passing up what his body had already begun to crave, when it came to matters of the heart, he knew that Ethan had him bested. And, it was time that he give the two people he cared about most his blessing—but he planned on giving Milla a whole lot more than that until this erotic vacation came to an end.
THE END
Creaming On The Law
Chapter One
Pete tapped his fingers on the top of his steering wheel over and over again repeatedly as he let out a huge sigh. Traffic was always a real beast come Monday morning and he was all too aware of that fact. He probably should have left a good thirty minutes earlier but the love of his life Tarek, was cooking breakfast for him. So, he couldn’t just leave in the middle of it, before it was even done. That would most likely have set off a temper tantrum and he was not in the mood.
He hurried as he got out of the car to gather his things. In his rush, he sloshed hot dark coffee across his crisp white shirt. His lips pursed to one side in disappointment knowing he had a full day ahead of him. But he carried on his way nonetheless. He kept an extra set of clothes at the office for that very reason. But after everything else, his sense of urgency inevitably helped him board the last A train going to Manhattan that morning. He was due in work in less than an hour and he was feeling a little less than prepared for the case.
As a licensed Psychologist, he was regularly subpoenaed to various district courts when a defendant, that he was court ordered to evaluate, was on trial for an alleged criminal offense. It wasn’t one of the prettier parts of his work, but it was a package deal nonetheless.
He finally made it to the jail which was his first stop of the day. He would be conducting a psychological evaluation on an inmate in the mental health division. He collected the records from the front desk and walked on back to the meeting room. He wanted to get his dirty shirt changed but didn’t have time to go by and change into other clothes so he put one arm and then the other into his navy blue suit coat. He took care to button every single one for as far up he could. He went ahead in the back of the meeting room and took a seat at the back. The proceedings had not started yet but he could hear the buzzers and the gates opening and closing from the other direction.
The first document he grabbed was a social assessment from three years prior reported by, the Master’s level Social Worker, Mark James. He noted in the paperwork that the defendant, John Baird, had no real family to speak of. He had been living on the streets for the two months prior to his arrest. That was just after being kicked out of the local homeless shelter for abusive language and aggressive behavior, on his part. They would not have kicked him out but it was unprovoked which sealed the deal. He stopped taking his medication about the same time. The defendant had a long criminal history dating back to when he was 12 years old. He also had a history of being physically abused by his grandfather from the age of 3 up until his grandfather passed away when he was 14 years old. Reportedly, he learned to walk and talk at appropriate ages. He was shot in the left shoulder in 1996, the bullet went straight through. He was taken to the emergency room where he received medical treatment. Apparently, he had ran out from behind a dumpster late at night and spooked a civil servant that had taken a disturbance call in the area. When he was discharged from the emergency room, he was taken directly up to the tenth floor psychiatric wing for further evaluation and treatment. Once there, Dr. Furrows prescribed a cocktail of psychoactive medications, but he was noted as having been treatment resistant as he tried on many occasions to cheek his meds and was caught by the jail nurse.
Pete could not help but to notice that Mr. Baird was rocking back and forth and wringing his hands repeatedly. He started taking a few notes and he wrote, The defendant presents as a tall black male at five foot eleven. He is considered morbidly obese at a weight of three hundred and ninety four pounds. His eyes are dark, his hair is shaven to the scalp. He has not shaved his face or bathed in quite some time. He is malodorous.
When asked why he was presently housed in the correctional detention center he said, “Ain’t shit they got to me ….. Ain’t nothing! You got it! I said metal dog bridge.”
Pete kicked his legs crossed patiently and said, “It says here that you started a fire in a residential area with occupants next door…. Sound familiar to you?”
Mr. Baird got up from his seat and yelled directly at Pete, “I told ‘em….. I told those bitches they would burn! I told and I told them and I told ‘em again but they wouldn’t do it! They lied and said that I did it but they’re liars. I didn’t take no drugs.”
“Okay….. Okay, Mr. Baird…. You’re obviously upset… Try to calm down sir. Ple
ase have a seat and let’s chat …. Okay? Everything’s okay …. Everything is just fine now.”
But he was struggling profusely in complying with the request. He was then asked, “Have you ever heard voices that you remember?”
“Ain’t got shit to do for me now do ya … huh? Red line go left today … ”
And at that point the defendant began mumbling incoherently under his breath some unintelligible words. So, Pete decided to put a pin in it until Mr. Baird could be seen by the jail psychiatrist and placed on a consistent medication regimen. He also knew that it would most likely require a forced medication order from the courts due to his likelihood to stop taking them voluntarily. Because if he didn’t take his meds then he wouldn’t get better and if he didn’t get better he would remain in jail much longer.
At that time John Baird entered the room, he was shackled at the hands and feet and wearing a jail issued orange jumpsuit and flip flops. He was being housed in a single cell after attacking his prior roommate following a one sided argument. He presented, not surprisingly, as unbathed and unkempt. He was not oriented times 4 spheres. He did not know the time, place, date, or his circumstance. His substance abuse history included; crack, meth, krocodil, weed, alcohol, and cigarettes daily. He had not worked in about ten years. But when he did work, he did mechanic type work at an auto body shop. During his secondary education years, he was not enrolled in any special education courses nor did he meet the required less than 70 in intelligence to be considered as a person that was learning disabled.
Pete asked him about his family history, but there was far too much long term memory loss to gain a successive approximation of his milestones throughout his life. But his prior assessments indicated that his mother was diagnosed as a bipolar schizophrenic that took her life when he was seven years old. His father was drug dealer and needle user that died of Hepatitis C complications when he was 8. However, he had left before he was even born. His biological parents never married. He had 6 step siblings that he has no interactions with. Most were taken by child protective services when they were very young.
Mr. Baird was different because his grandfather took him in and raised him for most of his younger life. His father also had a history of heart problems and both parents were characterized as morbidly obese as well creating a lineage of obesity.
It was getting late and time to wrap things up for the night. He had as much info as he thought he could get for the night. The defendant’s thoughts and sentence structuring were growing increasingly fragmented which ultimately meant it was time to go. He went on to the court to give live testimony before heading into the office building. His questioning only lasted a few minutes and he was dismissed from the legal proceedings.
When he got to the office, he sat at his desk with his fingers pressed against his lips pondering the defendant’s situation. He had brought the applicable paperwork back with him in his briefcase so that he could read it over. He sipped his hot cup of coffee and began reading all of the defendants past records. There was a long list of prior arrests including, criminal mischief, assault on a public servant, public intoxication, theft under $500, and on and on it went. Baird had obviously had a troubled past. He had attempted suicide on multiple occasions by way of drug overdose but the paramedics had been able to get his stomach pumped fast enough that it only caused long term memory loss. But his mental health seemed to be deteriorating much faster than his physical health at that point.
The prosecutor, Ashlee Dalton, called and asked to meet with Pete the following week for an update. His secretary set up the appointment for the following Wednesday afternoon at the courthouse.
Chapter Two
It was late Tuesday night and Pete tossed and turned all night in his sleep. He had a big day the next day and he knew that he needed to get as much rest as possible but thus far he was having no luck at all. He tended to be a worrier when it came to change.
His loved one, Tarek, nudged him repeatedly because every time that he would drift off, he would start snoring which was keeping him up. Tarek was such a light sleeper that any little noise or even a movement around him would inevitably wake him up. That was why he turned on a fan at night, because the static noise seemed to cancel out other noises that go bump in the night.
They both tossed and turned for quite some time, working against each other. That wasn’t how it typically went. Usually, they made a really great team. But when they were sleep deprived and stressed then all bets were off until the situation was rectified.
Tarek became so utterly frustrated that he finally just gave up and went to the guest bedroom to sleep for the rest of the night. He knew that his love had been strained and working way too hard. He felt for him. It was like they played off of each other’s strengths as well as their weaknesses which is most likely true for most committed couples. They were no different.
Tarek’s job was far less strenuous than his partners. He had chosen to be a librarian, not that there were many of those left. The majority of the work was a virtual online collaboration but there were still paperback books on the campus.
He loved his job, it never even felt like work. He could dress in business casual every day and on Fridays the staff could wear jeans and a college logo shirt, which was even better. Both fashion and comfort were equally important in his life and more specifically the balance between the two was what mattered the most.
The next morning came all too quickly, it would seem. Their eyes were red and bloodshot, which they both could see when they bravely looked into the bathroom mirrors. Pete poked and tugged at the bags under his kind eyes. He could visually see himself aging before his very own eyes which as not a satisfactory thing for him. He quietly thought to himself that he would need to make an appointment with Dr. Shu for some long overdue botox injections. It was just a necessary evil for a man of his age.
Tarek was the cook of the house and he generally made breakfast. He whipped up some waffles and eggs to give him a good start for his day. He put a pot of coffee on while Pete showered, it would be ready about the time he got out.
Pete was most certainly not a morning person. It was best for everyone involved to just let there be silence until around ten in the morning. Otherwise, he was somewhat like a cornered animal. He could come out swinging at any point in time.
They sat down for breakfast at the breakfast bar, which was designed that way just for them, it seemed, so that they could face straight ahead and it would be less conducive to idle morning chatter that annoyed them both. Tarek sat quietly sipping his coffee and reading the daily newspaper. He just loved how the paper smelled and also how it felt in his hands. In his mind, something was lost in translation when it came to consuming online news.
As Pete came in, he leaned down and kissed his lovers forehead. Tarek glanced over the top of the papers to catch a brief glance at his love. He didn’t like it, but he tolerated it on account of how happy in their relationship he was.
He loved the way that his dark hair looked when it was still wet. He loved the way he smelled when he was fresh out of a shower, it was called Creed Adventus and was a true panty dropper indeed. Tarek bought it for him because the first time that he smelled it in the department store, it made him feel tingly and that was a very good thing.
After breakfast was finished, the two men went to their large walk in closet and got dressed for their day: one in casual slacks and a blue plaid shirt, and the other one in a fine silk suit and tie. They both looked devilishly attractive. The day passed by ever so quickly and before Pete could even believe it, it was almost five o‘clock in the evening. He walked around the garden next to the local courthouse, waiting for the prosecutor to arrive. He figured that she was running late or something had come up at the last minute.
He took off his suit coat and laid it over his right arm as he sat down under a lovely wooden arbor with vines crawling up the sides. It had been a very long day and he genuinely hoped that she would not be too much longer.
Just as he got that out he glanced up to see her walking dead to straight towards him. He watched as her long curled red hair whipped around her shoulders. She was a healthy girl that hadn’t missed too many meals. But she was dressed in a long black skirt and high heel stilettos. She looked very professional, very technical. Somehow, it seemed to give off the vibe that she took herself very, very seriously. Or possibly it was the heavy frown that made him think that way about her.
She walked right up to him and shook his hand like a man, an incredibly firm grip. She introduced herself and made nice with warm greetings but something gave Pete an icky feeling when he touched her hand. She asked him the typical questions that the prosecution generally did. How was the initial evaluation? How is the client doing? Is he taking his meds? Is he eating and sleeping well?
Pete tried in good faith to address her questions even though he was not legally obligated to do so. He did not owe her an explanation of any kind, he owed the court a report of the findings of his interview and nothing more or less than what was needed. He just merely said that the defendant was going to need a forced med order because he was refusing all medications intermittently which meant that his psychotic delusions were very strong at that point. He went on to say that he didn’t necessarily feel that he was competent to proceed with the info that he had obtained thus far. He even hinted around that he might even suggest inpatient forensic mental health treatment in order for him to regain his competency to stand trial.
When he finally looked up, Ashlee looked irritated to say the very least. She never outright said it, but Pete got the distinct impression that she had a horse in that race and she was stacking the odds. For her it was all about the conviction rate that would get her elected to a promotion as the district attorney, leaving her current title of assistant district attorney behind.
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