Chapter 6

The haunting refrain of the old standard tune of “Misty” ran through Ralph’s brain like Irish pennants demanding swift attention. His earlier daydreams of mauling her tempting hindquarters were consummated with telling accuracy. The clerk of court had confessed to him that she was not a “local” girl but a transplant from New York City. Her sincerity almost made him laugh because he had known that obvious fact from the first moment she opened her mouth. When she had blasted the jury pool with her direct admonitions of dire consequences, if they discussed the case, he was certain exactly which side of the Hudson she originated from.

She was face down underneath him at the moment, but he tried to imagine the look on her face as he plumbed her softly yielding depths with gentle brutality. He was relieved that her proclivity for female chatter was curtailed completely at such a delicate moment. It was a big plus in his book to have only her exciting whimpers and delicious moans tantalizing his ears with sweet memories. Her tempting rear package was nicely under his control and she did her best to give him the range of entry that he preferred.

When she had shed all her clothes including the French undies with the cute little hearts reminding him of Valentine’s Day, he wanted badly to spank her for being a naughty little girl. He didn’t do it, because this was their first little “hanging out” session and he was afraid he might scare her away with a one-sided, demanding attitude. Instead, he gently rubbed her in all the places females like to be rubbed and fondled when the bedroom door is locked and the little ones are sound asleep in another part of the house. He tried to guess her age, because it was the kiss of rejection to ever actually ask a female her actual birthday. She had the look of a broad with all the answers. She was a pretty little tart who knew all the tricks. However, when he opened her up, he could tell she was like a new book with unwritten pages and a need to discover the hidden facts of life. He had no doubt that she was one of those sarcastic teasers with the vocabulary of wisdom, but the soul of a frightened abstainer from hard, cold reality. She had surrendered willingly. He had to admit that was a surprise to him because of her hard shell of brittle feminism. Then, to top things off, Misty showed her eager acceptance of his dominating need for full submission. It was just the opposite of her projected persona of complete confidence and sublime assertiveness. He respected the courage she had displayed in fulfilling her hidden needs for the ultimate tingle of joy.

Poor Misty was recovering from her second and decidedly more explosive orgasm when they heard the knock on the door.

Quickly, she scooted to the bathroom and closed the door silently leaving the light turned off to make it appear vacant.

Ralph moved to the door and asked in a whisper,

“Who is it, I was sleeping”

The low voice on the other side left no doubt that it was a horny Gloria demanding entry to remove her itch of midnight madness, better taken care of on top of a bed, than in some silly movie theater or chaotic sale at the mall.

He had no choice but to open the door and pull her inside. She was wearing only her thin baby-doll nightie and a pair of pole dancer’s thongs that left nothing to the imagination even to males with impaired vision.

“Ralph, I need it bad and that’s a fact!”

He kept his tongue buried in her throat to keep her from talking and bent her over the edge of the bed with an eagerness that surprised her, but filled her with sudden wet response. Ralph hoped that Misty was not getting an eyeful from the bathroom door slightly ajar right behind him. The nightlight gave off enough light to outline their profiles. He knew his spirited, suspicion-removing humping was already making an unavoidable racket inside the small room. Fortunately, the mature business woman reached her plateau of orgasm quickly and he put her over the top with an expert mauling of her pretty nipples with his hands at just the right moment.

He whispered in Gloria’s ear that the bailiff was making the rounds because of a reported disturbance in the next room. She got the message and kissed him on the cheek and slipped out of the door making as little noise as possible.

Misty came out of the bathroom with an urge for a second act after that degrading display and he knew the wisdom of keeping her happy after his shameful display of male fickleness right in front of her. The clerk of court knew she had him right where she wanted him and made him go south with his kisses to show his contrition was sincere. He didn’t blame her in the least because he was filled with guilt at being caught red-handed with his business in the cookie jar.

Ralph woke before the alarm went off the next morning. He was alone in the wildly mussed-up bed. It only took one look to know some kind of party had taken place there the night before.

A bell of sorts started ringing in his brain about the lack of actual forensic evidence in the case.

The outline of the presented facts emphasized that the entire crime scene was violent and total chaos. The prosecutor had underscored the brief timeline and the only conclusion was that the guilty party didn’t have time to cover up the evidence and remove the traces of his identity from either the victim or the scene itself. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced the entire case was based on speculative circumstantial evidence and lacking in the “cobwebs” of physical evidence needed to prove the defendant guilty.

The entire jury pool was quiet at breakfast.

That was a minor miracle of sorts considering that most of them were quick to give their opinion on almost everything from the possibility of rain to the guilt of the defendant.

Ralph saw Gloria wink at him from the next table. For some strange reason, the jurors had separated into gender-based tables this morning and perhaps that was the reason for the overwhelming silence. He remembered the sight of Gloria’s gleaming flanks moving in rhythm underneath the weight of his body over the edge of the bed. She was at point in her life that her bent-over position was her most revealing and erotic. Her mature buttocks hung appealingly with a delicious “jiggle” of temptation and buffered paradise. The position was perfect for the fabulous display of her swinging breasts moving like pendulums from side to side with nipples erect and eager for his touch. It came close to pushing his thoughts of Misty the clerk of court out of his mind, but not quite.