her hot ass lasciviously on his lap. Nothing yet, dammit! Would he go for a hand-job? How in the hell was she supposed to find his cock beneath that thick black robe?
'There, there,' the judge soothed, patting her shoulder awkwardly. Poor thing, frightened to death. But along with his stab of pity he also felt an undeniable stab of heat in his prick. There was something ungodly sexy about this wholesome creature, something that stirred very unwholesome thoughts in his stern mind. Good heavens, she was younger than his own daughter!
And he'd had very unwholesome thoughts about her, too.
'He-he had sex with me,' Terry whispered in the judge's ear. 'My father did. For years. I was afraid to go to the police. And I enjoyed it too!'
'Good God!' the judge whispered, astounded. 'The filthy pervert!'
'Yes. But… well, judge, the truth is I only get… turned on by older men. By men like him.' Her lustrous eyes gleamed on his and she shifted her plump ass harder on his lap and rubbed her tits into his chest. There, she felt something wriggle! He was getting it up after all.
'By men like you,' she added softly, licking her lips. He stared at her, hypnotized.
'That's… not healthy,' he said hoarsely.
His fucking judge's robe didn't even have a zipper in front, she saw with exasperation. This was going to be awkward as hell, but if she succeeded he would be in absolutely no position to pass sentence on her, or his own loftly ass would be on the block.
'By men like you,' Terry repeated, now undulating her ass hotly on his lap, feeling his prick rising fast. Okay, enough bullshit, time for action.
The judge, even though he was raised and spent most of his life in a hick town, knew what was coming but he could no more control his violent urge than he could the heavy hand of fate. He was fifty-two and his life was orderly and precise, and so dull he could cry himself to sleep at night if his frosty wife wouldn't laugh at him.
The girl was eighteen, breath takingly young and beautiful, wide-eyed and sweet, in spite of her wanton behavior, and he knew he would never in this lifetime have another chance to touch youth and beauty like this. He felt like a drowning man clutching at a raft, knowing it would leave him, but before they lowered him into that hole in the ground with a lot of solemn bullshit, he wanted to live just once.
And the law could go get fucked.
She'd slipped to her knees before him and was lifting up his robe. He coughed, mumbling a feeble protest as Terry fumbled with his zipper. Then she had his long thin cock out, bristling with a lust that surprised even him.
Her burning mouth was quickly on his rod, sucking eagerly and the judge groaned and stroked her hair, his heart singing in his chest. Holy shit, if he had a coronary now and they found him like this!
When he was good and hard and wet with her saliva, Terry stood up and lifted her dress, panting eagerly. She wasn't wearing panties, he saw with a shock – premeditated!
But her little golden pussy was so delicately beautiful and exquisite he pushed her ass back on his desk with a groan and dug his mouth into it lecherously, his breath rasping as he sucked voraciously at her eighteen-year-old cunt. He felt like a vampire sapping her youth, but as her delicious honey flowed in his mouth and her pussy jerked feverishly against his tongue, the judge suddenly felt eighteen again himself, roaring with lust.
Then he was pulling her on his lap, and Terry kissed him on the lips as she slid her juicy silt down on his pulsating rod. The tight, fiery sucking of her cunt made his heart pound dangerously, but he thought if he died right then he'd go out like a man and not a windbag dispensing justice like hot air.
He came quickly, too quickly in two dozen strokes of her slippery hot cunt, but the wave of relief flowing through his loins was complete, like nothing he'd ever felt before.
Briskly, Terry dabbed at his limp cock with a Kleenex, then wiped up her pussy, smiling fondly at him.
'Thank you,' the judge said in a choked voice. 'Thank you very much, Terry.' He gathered up the papers on his desk and began writing. 'I remand you to the custody of your sister and her husband. Charges are dismissed for lack of corroborating evidence. You're free, Terry.' He coughed, avoiding her gaze. 'It might be, urn, wise if you left town soon.'
'We're going to go to L.A. soon,' she told him cheerfully. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. 'You're a sweet old fart, judge. You eat like the devil, too. Bye, bye.'
He watched her cute ass bounce merrily out of his office, and he leaned back with a sigh. He rolled his tongue around his mouth, savoring the sweet nectar of youth. But he had broken the law and he deserved punishment.
Gravely, the judge opened his desk drawer and took out a ruler. Then he opened his bottom drawer and took out a bottle of scotch. He tilted the bottle to his lips for ten seconds, smacked his lips and put it back.
Then he picked up the ruler and smacked his wrist daintily.
'Take that, you law-breaking heathen.'
Justice done, he stole solemnly into court, the utterly sweet taste of her pussy fortifying his bleak days and weary, sexless nights.
Two days later, Mike, Linda and Terry moved to Los Angeles. Linda wrote her parents that Terry was very happy with them and had straightened out beautifully.
All she needed was a little love and affection.
Linda's former boyfriend, Lee, moved in with Violet, but as usual there was a catch. While she continued working as a cocktail waitress nights, she sent him out hunting.
What she wanted, she told him in precise detail, was a girl, preferably with the face of an angel and the body of a budding Goddess.
The girl had to be blonde, because blondes turned Violet on tremendously. She had to be innocent so she could be trained thoroughly. And, most important of all, she had to be an orphan or a runaway, with no family ties, and therefore no trouble with the cops later on.
She patiently explained how to search for hitchhiking runaways, how to work the Greyhound bus station without arousing suspicion, and where to look for young panhandlers who nine times out of ten, runaways.
Because it wasn't Linda she really missed, it was Terry, it was that luscious, hot, silken-skinned body and wide eyes and sexy mouth, that diabolical smile and heavenly pussy of fire and honey, that juicy, magnificent untamed little wildcat.
There had to be another Terry out there somewhere, ripe and waiting just for her, there had to be.
Or those wild, gleaming, wanton eyes would haunt her forever.
