Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2016 23:51:44 -0500
From: eric jones <joneseral@gmail.com>
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...