Chapter 19

I sat in the lobby of the residence hotel arranged for the jury members confined to quarters for the remainder of the trial.

In front of me was yet another cup of the strong coffee furnished for free by the hotel for all their guests. The other jury members and I were all waiting for the bell that would signal us to file into the courtroom to be seated before they opened the room to the allotted members of the press and other persons desirous of watching the historic trial in this usually quiet county with only boring events like local high school football games and county fairs.

I looked at the other jury members lingering on my now close female friends, but I stayed away from them because I knew the big brother spy cams were looking for forbidden discussion of the trial by jury members.

Of course, I had disregarded those silly rules and my bedroom conversations had centered about their personal consideration of the day’s progress and they all speculated either pro or con about their individual thoughts.

Recently, my thoughts had been centered on my typical sordid conduct with the available females near me as the trial progressed. I knew that it was standard operating procedure for me to lift skirts and pull down panties at every opportunity but I feared I had gone overboard with the female professionals, the prosecutor, the defense lawyer, the clerk of court and the other female members of the jury all willing to give up their innermost private secrets to me because of my ability to spin webs with my words and the fact I had an oversexed long, thick dick that had no shame.

Every time I made eye contact with one of those submissive females, I could see my lust reflected in their eyes and I knew they would do it again without hesitation.

The bell rang out loud and clear a second time and the last of us filed into the jury box for the day’s business.

Surprisingly, our anticipated uneventful day in court was exploded like a fragmentation grenade when the judge banged his gavel uncharacteristically on top of the desk and brought us all to order. He then advised us that beginning immediately, he would be withdrawing as the judge in this case due to personal reasons and that his replacement would take over the day to day business of the remainder of the trial. I could tell from the frowns on both the prosecution team and the legal defense team that they were already aware of the change and were equally upset at the unusual move in the middle of a trial of such consequence.

I personally was astonished at the move considering it tantamount to grounds for appeal for the loser despite the fact it was a jury trial.

I was of the opinion that since the judge had made little impact on the format of the trial and had stayed out of the ebb and flow of the prosecution and defense actions in the case it would make little if any difference in the outcome. Then, on second thought, I had to admit it all depended on who the replacement judge turned out to be.

Moments later, I had my answer and it shocked me to my core to see my early first girlfriend, Patricia Hightower move though the chamber doors in her long black robe and sporting a most appealing stylish haircut that accentuated her long upper-class neck below.

I knew her early in our university days before she became a criminal lawyer, a respected prosecutor and finally was appointed to the rank of judge only a year before.

She had lost a husband to the never-ending war against a shadowy enemy in some third world country and her only son, Robert had passed away from some complication from his heart ailment he had since early childhood.

From what I could make out from her free flowing robe, she had a slender figure, perhaps a bit on the skinny side which was quite appealing for a widow in her mid-forties.

I remembered she had dropped me like a hot potato when she discovered my cheating ways with her best friend Josie catching us both humping in the back seat of her own car, she had lent to Josie for some shopping chores. I was unable to explain my actions and chalked it up to my overactive libido that just could not resist fresh new pussy placed in my path by the hands of God.

I felt like I was back in the bush hugging mother earth to avoid the bomb blasts all around me as the switcheroo with the presiding judge was followed up by the prosecutor moving their strategy from the highly effective forensic facts. The chief prosecutor droned on and on about rejected love, to financial disputes to various cheating rumors. Her sweet-toned voice explored the various avenues of speculative “motive” in an attempt to nail down the coffin nails on the vulnerable defendant’s casket before convicting him and sending him to jail for the rest of his natural days.

Since I was one of the few jurors still undecided in either direction, I could make an unbiased observation that it was at best a weakening of the prosecution’s case and in a worse case scenario, it would result in either a lost case or a hung jury requiring a retrial at a later date.

My fixation on Ms. Honeysuckle’s lovely scented dark bush hidden beneath her tight pencil skirt notwithstanding, I lamented her poor choice of strategic direction with the thought that she would quickly lose the other Ralph, Claudine, Jolene and even, possibly the logical religious-minded Fay with her button-down mind and welcoming pussy for any male with serious intent.

In my estimation, it changed the verdict from a 10 to 1 result with me still undecided to a much closer 6 to five with my vote still not finalized.

I sensed a hung jury coming on and I saw the train wreck clearly in my brain unable to do anything about it unless I could convince the prosecutor to get back on the forensic train to glory or do my best to undermine some of the other female jurors to clearer thought about the facts.

Of course, that would mean that I would be breaking every rule of proper behavior for jurors according to state law and I hated the necessity of being drawn into the decision making process because I was fighting my gut instinct that poor Winston was a “patsy” a fall guy in this legal circus despite the fact he was a cheating bastard with bad breath.