Chapter 2

David Leland was rather busy shopping, more than a little concerned over his tighter than usual grocery budget now, especially without Alycen to help him out with that. It was usually her job to sort out the savings, discounts, coupons, etc., but now he needed to figure that out in a hurry, since he didn’t have all weekend. Sure, she was a cheating whore, but he missed her helpful hand with such things. Why did that sharp mind and practical nature, not to mention such a fine body, have to come with a vicious streak and an adulterous heart?

Despite her claims that it didn’t mean that she loved him any less, she had responded rather hatefully and spitefully to his decision to file for divorce, using her shark lawyer to ream him good in court, with the help of that bitchy dragonlady of a judge. They had made mincemeat of his own lawyer, who was admittedly cheap, but that was because she had already drained his savings. Well, he had gotten back half those savings, at least, thank God for small favors, but that only went to pay his pathetic lawyer and her evil, jaded, man-hating one. Now, he was required to pay child support for a kid that wasn’t his, at least until the paternity tests came back.

His lawyer had managed to do THAT much for him, but he was still stuck sleeping on the hideaway bed at his bachelor brother Dan’s cabin, which was a considerable commute out of town, because he still had to pay the mortgage for his ex-wife (well, the divorce wasn’t final, but would be within 60 days). He also had to pay alimony to Alycen, but thankfully, it was limited by Texas law to last only until she remarried, unless he chose to keep paying (yeah, like that would happen, right). He got to keep his bike, but Alycen got his pickup, too. At least she had to take over paying for that, another small victory for him (very small).

Alycen also won half of his 401 k, half of his CDs, and only gave up half of his business in exchange for clear title to his house (not that she had to pay for that ... he was still stuck holding the bag for it). In a very small win for him, though, the judge was forced to concede that she should only receive mortgage payments until her child was 18, or unless it was refinanced, in which case she would have to start paying for it herself. Unfortunately, as the owner of the house, she got to choose if or when to refinance it.

David seriously thought of appealing that rule, but he didn’t want to jeopardize his small, but growing business as a realtor (irony, that he sold real estate, but couldn’t afford to BUY any, thanks to the divorce judgment), and he couldn’t afford the legal fees, anyway. So, Alycen, his mean-spirited ex, got the joys and benefits of owning a house, but without any of the headaches (except property taxes, he smiled at that thought). David didn’t know how she, her lawyer, his lawyer (for being an incompetent asshole), or that accursed judge lived with themselves or slept at night, but he put more than even money (hypothetically, since he was hard-up on liquid cash) on them being sociopaths.

Add to this the Mayhem going on and the rise of a new regime that had required him to register his guns (but had firmly decided not to confiscate any or impose any actual gun bans), and David cursed his luck of late. The Chinese had an ancient saying, “May you live in interesting times,” and now he could see why that was a curse. He didn’t know what to think of the regime change, other than he was firmly convinced that the saying was true, “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Regime changes seldom improved things in human history, at least from what he read, at least not a lot of things, and they often made things even worse. Still, the jury was out, and while David didn’t care for the loss of political freedom, he was also aware that democracy had been a sick joke for the last few decades, anyway. It was really bought and paid for by the lobbyists and their sponsors, after all. Maybe the new boss wouldn’t be same as the old boss, he hoped (with apologies to The Who).

That was when he saw her ... the evil cunt herself! Not his ex-wife, that was, not even her lawyer or his ... no, this was pure karma, as it was the evil bitch judge herself! What was she doing, mixing with the hoi polloi, anyway? Didn’t she have some other man’s balls to slice off and keep in a mason jar or something? David wouldn’t be surprised if she and the other radical feminists had a secret coven, where they brewed in a witch’s cauldron and mixed in men’s privates while dancing naked and having lesbian orges under the moonlight or something in honor of some kind of matriarchal deity or someone like that. David was no prude or homophobe, and he had even entertained the idea of swinging or open marriage at various points, only to have Alycen shoot them down, only to turn around and cheat on him, the hypocritical bitch! Anyway, didn’t Judge Crooked Face have a bunch of money like the rest of the corrupt judges, lawyers, and politicians, anyway? Shouldn’t she be shopping at some exclusive shoppe or whatever?

To make matters worse, she saw him and at first mistook him for an employee for whatever reason (maybe the red polo shirt that resembled the staff’s uniform). Approaching him with the utter gall of touching his shoulder after he turned away his head in disgust and scorn, she nearly started at the sight of her most recent victim, the fine, hard-working small businessman that she gave the shaft. That old Jerry Reed song, “She Got The Goldmine, I Got The Shaft,” came to mind again, of course. David visibly grimaced as Trudy Randall withdrew her hand in shock.

“Mr. Leland, I thought that you worked here. Sorry. You don’t, do you?” the fifty year old ex-judge asked the little guy she had screwed over.

“No, not yet. At this rate, though, I might have to take a second job to keep out of the poorhouse, thanks to you,” he practically spat at her.

Trudy stood there in shock, never having actually faced one of these men in person before after the divorce decree was handed down by her. She had no clue that he was so bitter, so angry. Was this typical of the ex-husbands that she had fleeced in court? True, she had often smirked at the thought of some of these men living on ramen in roach-infested apartments, mostly because she was convinced that most husbands were like her ex, abusive jerks who just never got caught mistreating and bullying their wives.

Now, however, she was forced to actually witness how it looked, how she looked from the man’s eyes, and she didn’t like how that felt. Did they really feel themselves so misused by her? Was there really such a collection of angry, bitter, jaded men, a path of destroyed wrecks and financial carnage left behind in her path? She knew this intellectually, even feared that some of them had a hand in her own downfall, but to actually see how it appeared to them from their perspective, that was a bit jarring, to put it mildly.

“Mr. Leland, by my calculations, you still have more than enough to live on comfortably, or did my staff really get those figures wrong? Besides, I’m not really supposed to discuss that ... or am I? I guess that there is no rule against it anymore. You’ll be happy to know that I got the sack today. Maybe that will give you some satisfaction, some Schadenfreude, if you know what that means,” Trudy naturally assumed that, as a “manly man,” David had no intellectual pursuits or interests, or even curiosity.

“Yes, I know what that means. Wrongful joy, and yes, the idea that you’ve been deposed from your throne of injustice, where you castrate one poor soul after another, and possibly put a step or two away from penury, another big word for you, that’s some sweet, poetic justice to my ears and my mind. I might even get some sleep at night. No doubt, sleepless nights are a novel concept to you and your sociopathic friends in the legal community, who gleefully roast men foolish enough to get married over the coals to add to our misery and suffering. It won’t give me back the hard-earned wealth that you, my wife, and her lawyer stole from me, the fruits of my labor, but it’s a little bit of satisfaction to me,” David snarled at Trudy.

“It wasn’t theft, Mr. Leland. It was a lawful judgment. Apparently, though, the new regime thinks differently. I’ve been told that my views, that women need more financial security to offset men’s economic advantages, are outdated, and that I’m a ‘dinosaur,’ stuck in the past century, that too much has shifted in women’s favor and needs to move backward a bit. I’m sorry that you feel ill-used, but so do I. And so does your ex-wife, no doubt. She won’t be living in the lap of luxury, even with your financial assistance, I assure you.

“All those years, and because she made a mistake in a moment of drunken passion and bad decisions, and who hasn’t been there, are your own hands clean, and she is tossed out on her ass, forced to start over and re-enter the workforce even with the alimony, and God help her if she remarries someone poorer, because then she’s screwed. It might look bad to you from your ivory tower of righteousness, but she’s lost her husband, her source of income, has to somehow keep a roof above her head, hence why you have to pay her mortgage for a while, and God forbid that she should have to refinance for some reason, because then she’s stuck with the bill for it, and now she might stuck raising a child all on her own because her husband thinks that she’s committed paternity fraud, which isn’t a real crime, by the way.

“What right have you to doubt her that she’s carrying your kid, anyway? It was ONE TIME! Statistically speaking, it’s much more likely that the child in her womb is yours instead,” Trudy went on the offensive now, feeling a bit rattled and shaken by this angry white male’s outrage at her.

“It wasn’t one time, Judge, or is it, Ms. Randall now? It was many times, as it turns out, but this was the only time that she got caught. I’ve done some digging, so I know it. This was the only time that I could prove, bitch! My God, you really do believe your own crap, don’t you? You actually think that she’s some victim! And, yes, if I’m defrauded into raising and providing for another man’s child, that IS a crime, as it should be! How is that NOT a crime? How is that not fraud, not theft?” David tore into her all over again, making her flustered now.

“Okay, it’s a financial hit and a fucked-up injustice, but she’s not intentionally cheating you by this. She didn’t know if it was your kid or not, so why endanger the child’s welfare over an uncertainty?” Trudy became defensive.

“The hell she didn’t know, or at least suspect, and if she even suspected, she should have told me and agreed to the paternity test on her own. That’s fraud by omission, and you know it! I’m not some fancy lawyer with your bullshit ethics rules and such, but I know that much! That is common sense!” David lit into her even more, now just getting warmed up.

“And have a poor, unlucky kid whose fault it isn’t be forced to live hand to mouth in a foster home or something, because your pride couldn’t take being suckered?” Trudy made a vain attempt to rationalize her actions one more time.

“Think that I would have punished a baby? No! I would have found a home for her, a loving home, or perhaps adopted her if Alycen had shown some remorse and maybe groveled a bit, perhaps we might have had a future, but she showed nothing but malice and spite that I dared to confront her for persistent adultery! God damn her ... and God double damn you, cunt!” David snapped at Trudy again, “and she wasn’t kicked out onto the street ... I was! I live in my brother’s cabin because I can’t afford a place of my own! I don’t know where you got your notions or figures or calculations, but after the fleecing that I took at your hands, my ex-wife’s, and her cunt lawyer, I can’t even keep a roof over my own head, because every spare dime that doesn’t go to her has to go into my business! That’s what it’s like to run your own firm! You really don’t know that, do you? You and your fellow elite judges and lawyers don’t know what it’s really like to run a small business at all!”

Trudy was white as a ghost now, not having taken such things into consideration, and now no longer able to fix her mistake. Her whole worldview, her entire judicial career, all of her work, was now cast into doubt by a few revelations that she now realized couldn’t be lies. The man was shopping for groceries in a discount supermarket. He wouldn’t do that if he were as well-off as she thought him to be. Her head began to spin and she began dizzy, her stomach doing flip-flops as she awakened to the lies that had guided many of her judgments.

Why? How? Why hadn’t she listened to more of these men? Sure, many were still bad like her ex, but some were apparently good men like David who got nothing but cruelty and oppression at her hands, not justice. She was supposed to be a fair and impartial judge, and she had nearly always sided with the wife, wasn’t that a form of bias, didn’t that make her a poor judge, not only of laws, but of character? Trudy couldn’t take the shock of this epiphany. She fainted and fell to the floor, weak and nauseated by this earth-shattering news.

In spite of his anger, David Leland had the decency and compassion to help Trudy to her feet and call for a chair so that she could sit down. He gave her some 7 Up that he quickly paid for in cash, sacrificing some more of his small discretionary (and shrinking) beer (domestic now was all he could afford, not his favored craft brews) budget. The store clerk looked at him strangely, since people had witnessed him in a shouting match with this woman, who had apparently been the trial judge in his divorce case. Why would a man buy a lemon-lime soda to help settle the stomach of an aging woman that he had traded barbs with just minutes before? He even gave her some Rolaids, much to her surprise.

“Sir ... I saw some of that altercation. You’re clearly mad at her, but after your confrontation somehow led to her fainting, you were actually kind to her. What gives?” Sasha Rothstein, the curly, chubby strawberry blonde, asked the once hostile guy who had shown an unexpectedly softer side to him.

“I was mad at her because she was the trial judge who royally shafted me and went more or less completely along with my wife’s plan to take me to the cleaners in the divorce. I was nicer to her after that because she fainted and she’s an older woman who clearly doesn’t have the robust constitution that she did before. While I was happy that she got sacked from the bench today, I couldn’t help feel something for her, some kind of empathy, after she seemed to have realized something that upset her, plus losing your job is not exactly the best day for anyone, not even judges,” David explained himself, wondering what Sasha would make of it.

“So, in other words, you’re a human being with the usual full gamut of emotions, even compassion and worry for others. And enough of a gentleman in spite of your obvious bitterness toward womankind to lift a hand to help an old lady who fainted. What I would have to call, dare I say it, a GOOD man? Just remind me not to get on your bad side, though. You clearly have some rage, but then, you got screwed over in a divorce, probably by a cheating bitch of an ex-wife, just like Dad was by Mom. I’m still mad at Mom for that, by the way. I’m working this job, and don’t tell my Dad this, to help him out a bit until Mom finally remarries and he doesn’t owe her any more alimony,” Sasha surprised even herself by hugging David.

“To think, when she touched my shoulder, I felt seriously violated, my person and my space breached, but when you hugged me, I felt nothing but, and I know that this sounds corny, but ‘warm fuzzies’ all around. You’re clearly not a bad person yourself,” David told the clerk, who was little more than a stranger.

“That’s the upside to a fat girl, sir. We can keep you warm at night,” Sasha joked with her usual self-deprecating humor, attacking the issue of her weight problems before others could.

“Actually, you’re not fat. Plump, sure, but it looks good on you,” David told Sasha, triggering a startled look on her face, but adding, “I know, that didn’t sound right. I’m a bit out of the game, so to speak. I’ve hardly been dating in recent months, unlike my wife, who has her dance card full.”

“No, no, your words ring more honest, more true, so your praise doesn’t seem like empty flattery or an attempt to sugarcoat things. It’s unpolished, but more authentic that way. When you compliment me that way, I feel as if ... you mean it, and that has me wanting to reach for the 7 Up myself. I got butterflies floating around in my stomach over this, but would you like to eat supper sometime together? I know that we’re both probably strapped for cash, but that’s all the more reason for a home-cooked meal together. The only downside is fewer leftovers for Dad and me, but we have enough canned goods to make do,” Sasha invited David on a date.

“Are you ... asking me out for a date ... Sasha?” David acknowledged her nametag, “David Leland, by the way, and the answer is yes. I don’t even like the dating scene anymore, and I’m definitely rusty, but for you, well, that’s another matter. You’re a very real, honest, caring person, I can see that, and you’ve got lovely hair, by the way.”

“Yes, but I’m Jewish. You don’t mind that, do you? Sasha Rothstein,” she added her last name, a bit nervous in case he somehow turned out to be an anti-Semite.

“Hell, no! Even if you were kosher, it would be a nice culinary adventure, wouldn’t it? I bet, and I hope that I’m not stereotyping too much, that you’re a terrific cook, too,” David blushed as he realized that he might indeed have fallen for the stereotype that chubby girls knew how to cook, and he might have put his foot in his mouth.

Seeing the look on David’s face, Sasha put his face in her hands and told him, “I got no complaints so far, no, I’m not kosher, but I’m a pretty fine cook, if not quite a pretty one.”

“I disagree. You’re very pretty. I love your smile, your eyes, even your braces. You might lack some confidence, but you had enough courage to ask me out, which was more than I had, given how much I’ve been burned. You’re braver than me that way, at least for now. Then again, enough of your company, and I might well get bolder,” David beamed as he recovered.

“Please make very bold with me ... and my body. Sorry if that comes out as too forward, but I’m a twenty-one year old virgin who missed out on college thanks to Daddy’s wrecked finances. I had to actually convince him to spend some of my college money to get by, too, and that was tough, because he didn’t want me to give up on my dreams. That was when I told him that those were his and Mom’s dreams for me.

“My own dreams are different. I just want, and I know that this is very old-school, which is funny because I’m not really that old-fashioned ... I want to be a housewife. There, I said it. That’s what I want, my ambition in life. Don’t tell my friends, some of them very hard-core feminists who might want to drop me if they knew the truth about me. Definitely don’t tell my mother. It would destroy what’s left out of our relationship if she found that out,” Sasha confessed now.

“So, you’re applying for a new job as Mrs. David Leland, then? Just know what you’re getting into, missy. I’m a very, very embittered, jaded, even angry, thirty-one year old, ten years your senior, unhappily not-quite divorced, cash-strapped small businessman whose wife is probably carrying another man’s baby. That’s if I’m lucky and it’s not mine, tying my life to hers forever. I wouldn’t mind being a father, but I don’t like the idea of her being in my life anymore, not at all. Then again, I’m stuck with her to an extent, at least until I can get that judgment vacated, and with that woman’s dismissal, I might actually have some small, faint hope of that,” David ranted a bit, while Sasha held him close to her bosom and even ran her fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, so unprofessional of me, doing this on the clock. Still, I’m ... I guess that I’m getting a slight crush on you. Sorry, that’s a bit much, but, yes, I wouldn’t mind the idea of being at least considered for the wife position. And some ... er, other positions, such as doggy-style, reverse cowgirl, regular cowgirl, and missionary, just to name a few. I know, I know, shocking that I can even find my own pussy, let alone know anything about sex, but really, I studied ahead, just in case,” Sasha bit her nails a little as she blushed, realizing what she said in public, even within the judge’s ears, as the old battle axe stared at them and her colleagues looked at her very funny.

“Um ... Sasha, if you ring this up, it might get you out of trouble with your bosses. Let’s go ahead and check me out, okay? As for what you told me, I’ll give it very close consideration, I assure you. I’m not even sure that I want to do the monogamy thing anymore, if I ever really did, but if I had to, a curvy, curly Jewess with strawberry-blonde hair, freckles, and yes, even braces, doesn’t sound so bad to me. Especially if she’s open to so many ... positions, of course,” David smiled as Sasha rung him up and he paid.

“Hey, whoever said anything about monogamy? I never said that I was a ‘good’ Jewish girl, did I?” Sasha winked at him, “honey, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean that I’m going to be that much of a prude. It’s just lack of confidence, and you’re already helping that along, especially if you agree to be my ... sexual mentor, if you will. If you’re okay with teaching me the practical dos and don’ts of sex, that is.”

“If I’m dreaming, don’t pinch me right now. But we do need to check on the old bat. I hope that she’s feeling better now, strange as it is to say that. I was so sure that if she died, I’d be pissing and dancing on her grave, and now I’m actually worried about her health. Is that bizarre or what?” David admitted his mixed feelings about Trudy Randall.

“Maybe you should give her a good tumble in bed and see if that gets the bug out of her ass!” Sasha teased him now, licking her lips right then as she winked at him.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick him out of bed right now, would I? I’d have to recover my land legs first, but hey, let me treat you both to supper, okay? My treat, I swear. I got a decent pension coming to me and some leftover wages from my judging days. And savings, which I gather that neither of you have now, though it’s clearly my fault ... I’m sure that I probably fucked your father over, too, in court, Ms. Rothstein. It’s the least that I can do, and you can take some back to your father as leftovers to eat.

“Please ... I owe you something, Mr. Leland, you and all of the other men that I shafted in my courtroom from my bench, from my ivory tower. I’m not much to look at, I guess, but she needs an education in bed and I’ve gone through one hell of a sexual drought. We’ll both be eager to please, I think. Am I right, Sasha? Please, let’s go back to my place and I promise that you’ll both get laid. Take that to the bank. I’ll even get some Viagra now that it’s sold over the counter,” Trudy offered the two of them.

“I’m game, but only if you can pick me up from my work in three hours. I’m not off until then,” Sasha told them, “Why don’t you two go together to your place, have your kinky, nasty grudge fuck, get it out of your system, and then pick me up afterward for supper and my turn?”

“Works for me, at least,” David said as Trudy paid up and he left the store with her.

‘You know ... I really haven’t been with a man in so long I almost forgot what it was like. I wouldn’t mind a reminder at all. A nice, hard cock would feel fucking nice in my pussy, and yes, even my ass. I hated it at the time, but now I kinda miss it, and I did enjoy it, even if he was too rough with it. He just shouldn’t have raped me in the process,” Trudy confessed about her ex-husband, Dwight Randall, once they arrived at her house.

“Oh, God, I had no idea! That explains a lot of your hatred of men, at least,” David hit the nail on the head there.

“Yeah, I guess that I kinda took out my rage against him on you and other men, since he got away with it, due to antiquated laws that defined rape so narrowly that husbands couldn’t be prosecuted with rape for forcing themselves on their own wives. I deeply regret how I treated you and any other innocent men who were shafted in my courtroom, and I think that I need to find some way of atoning, but this is my start to it. So, you up for letting me ... um ... atone now?” Trudy encouraged David, noticing his bulge, as she wasn’t exactly an ugly woman, just a bit harsh and intimidating in her usual manner, not to mention older ... she had a sort of sharp, Helen Mirren, look to her.

“Any chance for a stiff drink? I could use one right now, for a variety of reasons,” David asked her.

“After what you did for me in the store, getting me a chair, a soda, and some antacids, it’s the least I could do. Maybe in the future I can even help you with shopping, believe it or not. I could tell that you had some trouble with bargains and such. I wouldn’t be there if I wasn’t used to that. Old habits from my own divorce days die hard,” Trudy offered, pouring them both some Seagram’s 7, “I could use a bit of a nightcap myself.”

“That’s very nice of you, thank you, on both counts. I knew that your divorce must have been a very rough business, but I didn’t think that you had been hurt financially by it,” David shrugged with some surprise.

“Thinking that I would have taken him to the cleaners? No, I was a bit too busy escaping him to worry about that, but, of course, it did cost him, just not like the husbands that I raked over the coals in my courtroom later. I think that I took revenge by proxy, but I never got him back for what he did. Maybe I should have, but I don’t take the law into my hands. I’ve always believed in the rule of law, though now ... I worry that in the wrong hands, the law could be a real menace to citizens, too. Anyway, it hurt us both. Divorces often hit the women hard, too, though not usually as hard as they used to, and apparently not as badly as the men. Anyway, frugal habits, just like spendthrift ones, are tough to break,” Trudy admitted aloud, still struggling with it, but also noticing that David drank the whiskey neat without even trying to chase it.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t alone there, and I doubt that my ex and her lawyer have any pangs of conscience about it all,” David reminded her.

“Also true. If it means anything to you, I think that your ex and her lawyer are in for a very rude awakening with the new regime, whatever their flaws. I just hope that they don’t swing the pendulum too far in the opposite direction. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the men now running things, and it does seem to have a lot of Y chromosomes in the mix versus X, just my first impression, anyway, I wouldn’t be shocked if some of them had been burned like you were and are using this chance to get revenge, maybe even the deputy commissar that ran me out with my tail between my legs.

“To be fair, I was rather saucy with him, and not in a good way. I’m not used to having my judgments questioned by others, I guess, which probably made me so defensive in the supermarket, that and I mistook you for one of the bad ones. Boy, did I get that one wrong, and for that, I owe you a serious apology, for that and how I treated you in my court,” Trudy downed her own shot and poured each of them another one, sure that they could both use it.

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry that I drove you to fainting like that,” David felt bad about that in spite of his certainty that he was justified ... she was not that OLD, but she was older, and retired, so he felt bad about that, perhaps out of ingrained tendencies regarding elders.

“Why, because I’m an older woman? Yes, I was in a bit of shock, but I’m fifty, not sixty or seventy, and I think that, in the long run, the scare and epiphany were both good for me. So, how about I make my amends now, if you’re still interested in an old bat like me?” Trudy asked David, removing her blouse and bra to show her fine, if somewhat saggy breasts ... they hadn’t sagged that much yet ... not yet.

“Oh, God, are those... ?” David asked her.

“D Cup? Yep, with the obligatory back pain to go with it, and since my love life hit the skids, I was tempted to get them reduced. You’re the first guy in a while to make me glad to put up with the pain to keep my advantages,” Trudy indicated by gesture what she meant by “advantages.”

“Wow ... and they haven’t ... You know,” David stammered a bit in shock, not wanting to hurt her feelings right then, which was odd, given how he felt about her at first.

“Sagged, you mean? A little, as you can see, but I’ve yet to get that far into menopause, David. I hope that my calling you David isn’t out of line, given that we’re about to fuck, and I do mean ‘fuck.’ I haven’t been laid in forever, and I just need my ashes hauled right now. First, though, let me get on my knees to thank you properly for forgiving me,” Trudy knocked back her second shot, straight without chaser, as did David, as she went to her knees and got busy unzipping his pants.

“Let me guess ... you haven’t given head in a good while and you missed that, too,” David smiled at her.

“Got it in one try,” Trudy confirmed, divesting David of his pants and boxers, making him as bottomless as she was topless before she started kissing, licking, and sucking his cock.

Getting David pretty hard wasn’t too, well, hard, not with that approach, and having her breasts there to invite him to cum all over those sweet orbs was a bit more inviting than Alycen had been for some time before he caught her cheating. He was a bit hard up for sex lately, anyway, so he had to fight the urge to cum faster, as he really wanted his load to mark the former judge on her bosom, and frankly, she could sense that. She backed off more than once, even though it teased and edged David, mostly to give him a chance to do what he pleased. Finally, however, there was no holding back and she let him out with a pop, squeezing him with her hands to catch his load on her cleavage.

“Oh, fuck, I actually did that! Alycen never looked that, but I always wanted to try it on her boobs. Thanks, that’s a first for me,” David told Trudy, who now removed his shirt slowly, followed by his undershirt and her skirt with panties, suddenly in her stockings, garters, and heels.

“A thong? You WERE hoping to get laid soon!” David reacted with amused surprise, and then added, “that makes sense, given your recent dry spell.”

“Nothing dry about me between my thighs right now, sport. I was very uncomfortable in this, but I figured that with my career over, I should try to get laid. You just got to be the lucky first guy to break my unlucky streak,” Trudy confessed as she touched herself down there and brought her hands up to David’s face, licking her own fingers clean.

“Wow ... just wow! Hey, my ex-wife was doling it out rather sparingly for a bit there, well, until she realized that she’d have to try to fool me into thinking that I was the proud papa. Then, she suddenly turned up the heat, and for a little while afterward, no doubt trying to bribe me to stay with her. It wasn’t until she realized that it was hopeless that she got really vicious,” David confessed as he took his turn to kneel, parting her thighs to get a taste of her sweet honey.

For the second time that day, David made Trudy dizzy, as she felt the pleasure centers really awaken in her head, the rush of ecstasy, the thrill of a man’s tongue and the tickle of his stubble on her twat. Her juices, already flowing, began pouring in a hurry, the flow turning into a waterfall as she creamed herself on his face. His deliberate teasing didn’t hurt, nor did his occasional, playful bites of her pussy lips, inflaming her lust as the younger man serviced her with his mouth. She was ready to moan pretty soon, her skin turned pinker, and she felt an absolute shudder go through her like a water moccasin through a stream, darting all over her flesh.

“Oh ... fuck ... meeee!” Trudy began pleading, as her eyes rolled back in her head from the long denied bliss of being eaten out by a man...

Dwight only did this rarely and grudgingly, so she hadn’t been tasted like this since she was with her ex-boyfriend before him, decades past. He was one Pedro Gonzalez, the forbidden love that she had to cover up and fast by getting an abortion and marrying the first available choice, Dwight Randall. Pedro had been Mexican, married, and Catholic, of course, not to mention a farmer who had his own farm, true, but was socially far from acceptable in her Southern WASP family’s circle. This was Texas, after all, and the only thing worse than a Mexican boyfriend would have been a black one in her parents’ eyes. David was the first man since Pedro to even take this business of eating a woman out seriously ... damn it, Alycen gave THIS up? What was she smoking?

Pretty soon, of course, Trudy was well past the point of no return, and she found herself on all fours, offering David easy access to her cunt, taking him in deep and grateful that his cum had already dried on her tits, so that it wouldn’t leak onto the hardwood floor. She welcomed his dick inside her pussy like a long lost friend, so thrilled to be fucked again after those wasteful years of not being plowed or enjoyed at all sexually. Celibacy sucked ass in a very bad way, and yet she was the author of her own nun-like existence. It had been too easy to grow bitter and focus entirely on her career of wreaking havoc with men’s lives, using the law as a weapon of revenge against all mankind. In the process, she forgot that men weren’t the enemy ... abusers like Dwight were.

True, getting fucked like this, on the bare floor, was a bit rougher on her knees than Trudy recalled, but then she was a fifty year old woman now, with arthritis, hypertension, and perimenopause, not to mention a higher risk of osteoporosis. She had started taking estrogen to replace declining levels, despite the risks, and she regularly took women’s multi-vitamins to help maintain her stance against the march of time. In any case, she found to her shock that she liked the roughness and discomfort a bit, even a little pain with her sex. She had been out of the sexual game for a time, but she had heard of masochism ... she just never thought of herself as a pain slut before. Now, of course, she knew that she was one ... and she wanted to be David’s pain slut if he kept this wonderful pace of fucking her so intensely going.

“So, I can see that you definitely started without me,” Sasha’s voice called out behind them, having followed them to Trudy’s home in spite of her previous determination not to do so, “Sorry, I got fired, so I might as well come here.”

“That’s ... so wrong!” Trudy grunted, trying to speak in spite of David’s long strokes inside her snatch, filling her so well, even as he smacked her booty.

“Yes, well, that’s a problem for another day. For now, I just want to get some ass,” Sasha said, following instinct as she removed her slacks and offered her sweet pussy for Trudy to taste.

Trudy had never been intimate with another woman, but something about the scent of that luscious twat was too much to resist, the juicy, coppery bush inviting her to probe with her tongue. Sasha Rothstein’s pretty, twentysomething slit, was very wet, drenched even, and sweet as she could have hoped, because, of course, Trudy had the occasional Sapphic fantasy, too. Licking the offered pussy was an excellent way to focus on something and direct her lusts while being taken so hard by this thirtyish fellow with his fantastically thick cock. Trudy wondered what a bald cunt would taste like, to be sure, but for now, she rather enjoyed the fine bush that trapped all that sweaty, juicy wetness, the dense, humid forest between Sasha’s yummy thighs.

“You like?” Sasha moaned as Trudy ate her out and David kept hammering at her from behind.

“God, yes! I could get used to this!” Trudy declared as the next wave of pleasure hit her, making her cream herself all over again, not far ahead of Sasha and her turn.

For Sasha, Trudy’s tongue was the perfect start to the fun, though she still craved David’s cock inside her, and she knew that she was going to have it. She was not going home a virgin this time, not this Sunday. No, no, Sasha was David’s woman, though she was happy to share the title with Trudy if the older lady didn’t mind. They could have a real triad going, a menage a trois if the former judge was fine with it, as far as Sasha was concerned. To be David’s girl, to taste that wonderful pleasure, was going to be great, but to be part of a polyamorous relationship would be even better. Something about all of this, a triad of three wounded, rejected people, just sounded like perfect, sweet revenge on the world for Sasha.

For David, well, what could one say? Being inside Trudy’s glorious cunt was great, and every stroke, every thrust, every push back with her hips reinforced that this woman had erupted like a dormant volcano, her juices as molten as lava on his dick. She was certainly hot enough between her legs, and boy, was she flowing! Now that sweet Sasha was with them, even better. He liked Trudy well enough, and he certainly hoped to keep up the affair for both of their sakes, but Sasha, well, Sasha was the cherry on top, in more ways than one. He was going to make that cuddly girl his and they both knew it.

Watching the two ladies go at it, not a sign of jealousy marring the fun, it was just too much, especially once they both came. The strong aroma of women’s arousal, doubled now, heightened things for David, and though he had better control now that he came once already, this was too much. He exploded inside Trudy, unaware that she was very fertile right then, well for her age. His relative youth would actually counter her own aging to make for a very healthy baby on the way. Little did David know, but he was about to become a father thrice over, not just once or even twice. All that he knew was that both women’s juices tasted like honey on his tongue as he made out with them and Sasha finished getting naked.

“Supper? We need to plan your wrongful termination suit and our future, anyway, Sasha, baby. Supper’s the best way to make it go down. We got whiskey, too, to wash it down and burn away the pain,” Trudy offered.

“That doesn’t sound so bad. What’s for supper?” Sasha agreed as she kissed the former judge, too.

“As long as it’s even half as delicious as you girls, it will please me. I’m hungry as hell. I always get that way after sex, especially after intense fucking like this,” David confessed, feeling a little embarrassed at how famished he got after any sexual congress of any real length.

“Well, you certainly burned enough calories, as did I. More whiskey, too? Or perhaps some beer or wine to chase it down,” Trudy suggested.

“Wine sounds really nice right now. A decent dry red for starters,” Sasha reacted to that.

“Well, then, it’s a good thing that I’ve had the crockpot going all day long. Pot roast anyone?” Trudy showed them the roast beef, potatoes, and vegetables in the cooker.

“Great sex AND pot roast? Where have you been all my life?” David grinned and winked at her.

“I’d ask you the same thing, but I gather that you hadn’t been born yet for much of it. Same for you, girlie,” Trudy winked back at David and then at Sasha.

“Yeah, well, I echo his sentiments and I hope that we more than make up for our lengthy absence from each other’s lives by eating like pigs and then fucking like goats,” Sasha quipped as she poured the Shiraz for the three of them.

“Now, that’s what I call a chaser!” David laughed.

“I’ll drink to that!” Sasha agreed with a smile, “especially being Jewish. Red wine is part of my birthright. And ours is a faith and community where the women insist on more sex as a spousal right, if that tells you anything.”

“I’d say that bodes well for my future,” David smiled.

“You got that right, mister! I’ve still got a cherry to pop,” Sasha reminded him.

“I got none of those, but I do have ... some experience and a lot of pent-up lust. And loads of cooking skills, living alone for so long! What? You didn’t think that I existed solely on microwave TV dinners and takeout, did you?” Trudy giggled like a schoolgirl, something rather oddly pleasing about the fifty year old ex-judge.

“Touche, sweet lady. Touche,” David got the last word, until supper was plated, at least.