‘Now don’t you get any ideas back there,’ she warned as I rubbed the slippery liquid all over her back. ‘Ideas?’ I asked innocently. ‘What...ideas?’ ‘Boobs next,’ she told me when I had finished her back. I got up and she rolled over. By now I was finding the situation very frustrating. For my eyes and my hands it was a feast, but for my poor old dick it was a famine. As I straddled Vanessa from the front, I leant forward more than I really needed to just so that my aching cock would. She marveled at the idea; it had never occurred to her to ever use such a thing in the act of sex, let alone that someone might keep them at hand like that.He pulled the door behind her and she looked at herself in the closet mirror. The sight that had once disappointed her, vaguely, that had made her ashamed, she now knew to be desirable. She pulled the skirt up and then the entire dress over her head, revealing the other thing she had bought recently: silk lingerie. She had liked this one in. It was soothing for her after the orgasm she had. She inhaled deeply with her nose almost nestled in his groin and simply closed her eyes. Her arms had slid around his hip and she had basically served as his blanket as they drifted off to sleep with thoughts of their evening burning brightly in both their minds.When morning comes, it finds them in basically the same position, although they have both shifted some. She had obviously pulled up the sheet sometime in the night to cover the lower. A court reporter sat before her machine just in front of him. A Los Angeles sheriff's deputy, serving as bailiff, stood in the corner. At the defendant's table sat Jake, Matt, and Bill, all of whom were decked out in their best suits. Pauline sat between Jake and Bill, dressed in a conservative business dress, her dark hair tied tightly into a bun. At the plaintiff's table sat four power-suited lawyers, Eric Frowley chief among them. No one who actually worked for National Records was.