Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel Read Free Page A

password,
heading straight into my “wish list”. This is where I tag
all the profiles of women that I have a passing interest in fucking.
I’ve not been availing myself of it lately and, in fact, I’ve
not had a “date” in six days. Almost an entire week of
jerking off in the shower, which, honestly, has been producing about
the same pleasure as I got with the lovely Marie just six days ago.
    Sighing, I flip
through the profiles, all the faces blurring together. That’s
all you get at first… just a head shot of the woman. They are
all spectacularly gorgeous, varied in hair color, ethnicity, size,
and shape. I love women and find many things about a woman to be
beautiful, but nothing I’m seeing right now is causing the
remotest of pulsing in my pants.
    I head back out to
the home page and put in new search criteria.
    Vanilla, Light Kink,
Female, Age 21-45 and hit “Enter”.
    Over a thousand
profiles populate the screen, each with a thumbnail of their headshot
showing up for perusal. I sort the list according to Membership
Activation Date, newest on top.
    Scrolling,
scrolling, scrolling.
    I halt on one
picture that stands out. It’s fairly new… Number 3498…
joined just a few weeks ago.
    I click on the link
and look at the larger photo that comes up before I read her stats.
    She’s
stunning… no doubt. Raven-black hair, crystal-green eyes, high
cheekbones, perfectly straight and delicately narrow nose. Her lips
are full, soft looking, and would only look better wrapped around my
cock. She looks like a fucking runway model, and I stare at her for a
while.
    Her overall beauty,
though, is not what’s really catching my attention. I look back
at her eyes and once you get past the shock of seeing such lovely,
pale green popping next to that black hair, I feel a thrill run
through me when I realize what really is attracting me is the
intelligence I see.
    She stares directly
at the camera and while she’s giving a sexy, sultry smile, her
eyes are sharp and alert. Almost calculating.
    It’s fucking
hot, and my dick is definitely twitching in interest.
    But as sometimes
happens, right in the midst of a good hard-on, something comes along
and kills it deader than a doornail.
    That would be my
phone ringing Heart’s Barracuda , which means my ex-wife,
Marissa, is calling me.
    I contemplate not
answering it for just about two seconds, but then push that right out
of my mind. Chances are she’s calling to bust my balls, demand
money, or some other devious way to make me suffer. But on the off
chance it’s something serious about our seven-year-old son,
Gabe, I can’t take the chance of missing her call.
    “What do you
need?” I ask tiredly into the phone as soon as I connect it.
    “You could at
least answer politely,” she snaps, and I know this is going to
be one of those conversations where I’d rather have my nuts
castrated than listen to another moment of her vitriol.
    I don’t
respond though, because she’s aiming for a fight and if I do,
it will fuel the flames. I find it completely ironic, a little bit
sad, and a whole lot unfair that she was the one that cheated on me,
and yet she’s the one that gets to act all offended when our
marriage crumbled. My mom once told me it was her guilt causing her
to act that way, but I can’t believe that for a moment. The
only thing Marissa was guilt stricken about was that she got caught
and it ruined her swank lifestyle when I kicked her to the curb.
    After several
seconds of silence, she sighs. “I need some money.”
    “No,” I
tell her, because this isn’t the first time she’s asked.
The bitch tried to sneak in a boob job after telling me she needed
the money to send Gabe to an expensive summer camp last year.
    “It’s
for Gabe,” she whines.
    “Nice try,”
I tell her firmly, glancing back at the photo of Number 3498 on my
computer screen. Those intelligent eyes seem to be boring into me,
seeing deep inside to the tribulations I suffer under