Maggie strolled into the office, smiling at Carol as she passed through reception. Jake was already at his desk.
“Hey, Jake. How come you’re in so early?”
“In court this morning.” He looked up from his notes and smiled. “Nice shoes.”
There was no subtlety about the way Jake ran his eyes over her body, and this was one of the reasons why Maggie liked him. Being the only female lawyer under thirty in their practice had a lot of benefits, so she was happy to accept there were also some negatives. The main negative was Lawrence, one of the senior partners. The old bugger never failed to ‘brush’ past her when there was acres of space, or rub his clammy fingers along hers when handing her papers.
“Thanks.”
She was genuinely pleased he’d noticed the shoes, but glad he hadn’t a clue as to their significance. They were red leather with a three-inch stiletto heel. Although not the most expensive pair she owned, they held a special place in her wardrobe, and heart. These were her ‘fuck me’ shoes. She had several others which were probably sexier—higher heels, open toes, ankle straps—but wearing these red ones made her feel sexy. Whenever Maggie wore them, she didn’t wear any panties. She wondered what Jake would say if he knew.
She moved over to the coffee machine. “Fancy a coffee?”
Jake checked his watch. “No, gotta be out of here in a few minutes. What brings you into the office so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep, and I need to catch up on a lot of paperwork. You’re in Crown Court today, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Sounds grand, but realistically I’m just carrying Lawrence’s briefcase and shuffling papers.”
She smiled. “I suspect you’re the eye-candy to help sway the female jurors.”
“Huh—I doubt that. I heard Lawrence tried to get you on the case, but Sam said you’d be too busy with his stuff.”
“Oh? I didn’t know that. Sounds like a lucky escape for me.”
“Yeah, maybe Sam’s just trying to avoid losing another female member of staff because of Lawrence’s hands-on approach.” Jake stood and dropped the papers into his briefcase. “Right, I’m off. See you later, maybe.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Maggie waved as Jake left. He was good looking and a nice guy—so different from the pretentious twats she’d been to law school with. He was definitely boyfriend material. She’d probably end up marrying someone like him. But for some reason, his type left her a little cold. For as long as she could remember, Maggie had preferred the bad boy type.
At school she’d been drawn to the boys who were always in trouble. They had an air of danger which she couldn’t resist. At university she’d socialised with the people from her course, but her romantic liaisons were with the men she met off-campus. They were working-class and poorly-educated, although it quickly became clear that they had far more nous than she did. Being with these men gave her an undeniable buzz, a thrill she couldn’t replicate with the nice, upstanding young men her mother would like her to bring home.
Maggie placed the latte on her desk, and carried a cappuccino out to Carol. “Here you go. I was making myself one, so thought you’d like one, too.”
Carol’s pretty face showed a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Oh, thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
Back at her desk, Maggie started to go through the paperwork. It was dull and boring, but something she had to keep on top of. Perhaps that was the reason for her choice of shoes today—she needed her heart to beat a little faster so she wouldn’t fall asleep on the job.
She was surprised when she next looked at the clock—it was lunchtime. As it was a nice day outside, she decided to go for a walk. She picked up a chicken wrap at the nearby deli and walked to the benches near a small garden and fountain at one end of the wide street. Teenage boys were doing stunts on their BMX bikes, trying their best to impress the watching group of schoolgirls.
Maggie felt the warmth of the sun on her face and legs, and a pleasant breeze blowing around her uncovered sex. She wondered if any of the girls and boys would be meeting later, disappearing into the woods in the park to kiss and grope each other the way she used to. She envied them for the thrill a simple kiss could give at that age, how just a caress from the boy you fancied could send shivers all the way to your toes.
“Hiya.”
Maggie looked up to see Carol standing over her and smiled. “Oh, hi.”
“Can I join you, or are you expecting someone?”
“No, please.” Maggie moved her handbag from the seat and held up the packet which still had an untouched wrap. “Do you want one of these?”
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.”
Carol was relatively new to the firm, so the pair of them hadn’t spent much time together.
The receptionist smiled. “I love your hair like that.”
Maggie pulled self-consciously at her shoulder-length, dark-red ringlets. She usually wore it pinned up at work. “Thanks. This is what I get when I leave home with wet hair.”
“It’s lovely, I’m so jealous. My hair’s straight and mousy-brown.”
Maggie looked at the other woman’s short blonde bob. “Your hair’s lovely.”
“It wouldn’t be if I didn’t spend a fortune getting highlights put in every month.” Carol looked over towards the group of teenagers, then back at Maggie. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, course you can.”
“Is there anything going on between you and Jake?”
“What? No, of course not. We’re just colleagues, and mates.” She smiled. “Why, have you got your eye on him?”
“Oh, no, I, I…”
As Carol started to blush, Maggie laughed out loud. “Carol, it’s okay to fancy him. He’s a good-looking guy, and very nice. You could do a lot worse than wake up in his bed the morning after a staff party.”
Carol’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes opened wide.
Maggie laughed, putting her hand on the other girl’s arm. “Sorry, I keep forgetting I’m supposed to at least try and exude an air of professionalism.”
“Oh, not with me, please. I don’t want professional, I just want normal.”
Maggie smiled, wondering if Carol would consider walking around without underwear as ‘normal’ for a lady in the legal profession.
“Do you happen to know if Jake’s seeing anyone?” Carol was biting her lower lip.
“Yeah, he’s been living with a guy called Gavin for over a year.”
“He’s gay?” Carol’s voice was so loud all the teenagers turned to look their way, as did several people from the other benches.
Maggie was laughing so hard she couldn’t answer straight away. “No, I made that up. He lives alone, and I’m pretty sure he’s straight.” She smoothed down her skirt. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m such a cruel bitch, sometimes.”
Carol was shaking her head, but also smiling broadly. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“No, sorry.”
The two women chatted amiably as they walked back to their office together. When Maggie got back to her desk she found a post-it note stuck to her computer screen. It was from Sam, asking her to call at his office when she had a minute.
She knocked once and popped her head round the door. “Hi, I’ve just seen your note.”
“Ah, come in, come in.” Sam smiled as she took the seat opposite his desk. He was in his early sixties, and had lively blue eyes under bushy brows and a shock of grey hair. “How are you, Maggie?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good, good. Well, what I wanted to talk to you about was the Alderson case.”
“Oh?” She knew it was one that troubled Sam. He’d been hired as Sean Alderson’s defence counsel after his part in a violent robbery
“Yes, yes. I’d made an appointment to visit him to try and convince him to change his plea. There’s so much evidence against him, it seems pointless trying to deny he was involved.”
“So you want him to plead guilty?” Maggie couldn’t see that happening. A security guard had been badly beaten during the break-in. “Aren’t the prosecution pushing for attempted murder?”
“I want him to accept the B and E charge, but try to claim there was no intent in the attack on the guard. We can propose Actual Bodily Harm, but advise Alderson he’ll probably get GBH because of the injuries he inflicted on the guard.”
“It might be difficult to get him to go for that,” Maggie pointed out. During the pre-trial meeting, Alderson had been convinced he’d get away with it. Several people were willing to testify he’d been at a party at the time of the crime, but all of the people providing alibis were as dishonest as he was. The prosecution had video-evidence, fingerprints and probably DNA, too, because the defendant had bitten the guard’s face during the attack.
“But the reason for me calling you in now is because I’m going to have to miss the appointment—something else has come up. I can’t get out of it, so I was wondering if you’d mind going to see Mr Alderson instead.”
Maggie sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Me?” Adrenaline started to rush through her system.
“Yes, yes. You’ve been involved in the case, and you’ll be with me in court. You’re the logical choice to go.”
“Okay, fine. When is it?”
“Thursday afternoon.” Sam started to shuffle the papers on his desk, his usual way of letting his visitors know a meeting was over.
Maggie walked unsteadily back to her desk, her stomach in knots. Sean Alderson was a big thug of a man with a long history of petty crimes running all the way back to his early teens. She’d been in court when he was first remanded in custody and had seen his family. His wife, a mean-looking woman with dyed pink hair had shouted obscenities at the judge when he’d refused her husband bail.
Maggie had also been present when Sam had interviewed him shortly afterwards. Alderson had been unable to stop looking at her chest and legs throughout the meeting. She remembered seeing the look in his eyes, and remembered how wet her panties had been by the end of it. Maggie clenched her inner muscles and could tell she was wet again now. She picked up one of the papers on her desk and tried to get her mind back on her work.
Jake returned to the office mid-afternoon, which was earlier than usual.
Maggie watched his shoulders as he slipped off his suit jacket. She could certainly see why Carol was interested. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah, one of the witnesses had a dizzy spell.” The tone of his voice suggested he doubted the authenticity of the symptoms. “So the judge called a halt for the day.”
“Lucky you.”
Jake shrugged and emptied the contents of his briefcase into separate piles on his desk. “He’s weird, that judge. He hasn’t got any thumbs.”
Maggie looked up, puzzled. “Really? What’s his name?”
Jake smiled. “Justice Fingers.”
“Oh, god.” She shook her head as he walked over to the photocopier, chuckling to himself.
* * * * *
Maggie presented herself to the prison reception on Thursday afternoon. She went through the usual procedure of presenting ID, surrendering her mobile phone to lock-up, then she was shown into the waiting room.
One of the wing officers came in to escort her to the interview rooms. His expression suggested he was surprised that Alderson’s lawyer was an attractive young woman, particularly one dressed the way Maggie was.
“I’m afraid the only room that’s free has a faulty CCTV camera. Would you prefer to delay by an hour to wait for one of the other rooms?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Her heart beat a little faster.
“Would you like to have an officer present during the interview?” He cast his eyes down Maggie’s grey fitted jacket, knee-length pencil skirt and high heels. She wasn’t wearing nylons.
“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary. We’ll be discussing his plea, so I think he’ll be more willing to be frank if it’s just the two of us.” Maggie tried to give a confident smile.
“If you’re sure.”
The officer unlocked the security doors for the remand wing and escorted her along an otherwise empty corridor. The clicks of her red shoes on the tiled floor echoed off the walls.
When they reached WR1, the officer opened the door and stood to one side. Maggie walked into the unoccupied room and the door swung shut behind her. The walls were painted wintergreen and the lino was a dull grey. A small square metal table was bolted to the floor in the middle of the room, two hard-backed chairs facing each other on either side of it. There was another chair placed against the wall next to the door, for attending officers to use during interviews.
Maggie placed her briefcase on the floor next to one chair and glanced up at the CCTV camera mounted on a bracket high on one wall. The red light wasn’t illuminated. She sat in the chair and waited, her legs shaking slightly with anticipation.
The door opened and two officers stood either side of Sean Alderson. He was wearing the prison garb of grey trousers and grey sweatshirt. They led him into the room, and Maggie noticed one of the officers giving Alderson a warning glare before pushing him into the chair opposite her.
“We’ll be right outside.”
Maggie wasn’t sure who this comment was aimed at, since the officer was still staring at the prisoner.
“Thank you.” She tried to sound calmer than she actually felt. This was one of those occasions when she needed to exude the air of professionalism she’d told Carol about.
When the heavy door finally shut after the officers, the room seemed as quiet as if it had been sound-proofed.
She leaned down to retrieve some papers from her briefcase, and as she straightened up, she caught him blatantly looking down the top of her blouse. She waited for his eyes to move up to her face and held eye contact for a second, then looked down and sorted through the prosecution’s trial dossier. She could feel his eyes on her, smell his body odour. When she squeezed her thighs together, she felt her wetness.
“Was expectin’ the other fella.” His voice was deep, his accent strong.
She glanced up at him. His small, dark eyes looked lost in his large face. His lips were fleshy, and his teeth even but yellowed. His cheeks and nose were covered in open pores. There was a tattoo on one side of his neck, and more ink showed below the cuffs of his sweatshirt. His hands were huge. There was a hole in his left earlobe, and another two in the flesh of his forehead above his left eyebrow. Clearly quite a lot of piercing-jewellery had been removed when he was booked in.
“I’m afraid Mr Irlam had another matter he had to attend to, so I’m here instead.”
He let his eyes wander down to her chest again, then looked up into her eyes and sneered. “Fine by me.”
Maggie selected a sheet from the pile and handed it across the table. “I want you to have a read of this.”
“What is it?” He left the sheet of paper untouched, giving her the impression he wasn’t fond of reading.
She swallowed. “It’s a list of all the evidence that the prosecution has against you.”
He still didn’t pick up the page, shrugged. “Circumshall. Got witnesses said I was with them.”
“I think you mean circumstantial. I’m afraid alibis from your wife, brother-in-law and school friends won’t hold as much sway with the jury as the CCTV footage, which clearly shows you repeatedly kicking the security guard. In addition, your fingerprints were found on several door handles and walls within the premises. Then there’s the bite marks left in the victim’s face. The prosecution have an orthodontic expert who’s willing to testify there’s a ninety-five percent probability that your teeth were responsible. If they’ve also managed to derive a sample of your saliva, then you’d probably struggle to convince a jury that you had an alibi if you’d been having tea with the Queen.”
Maggie stood up and carried a sheaf of papers to the chair by the door. This was a deliberate move, intended to give him a chance to look at her entire body. Once seated, she looked over at him.
“Read the sheet, Sean. Consider carefully what your options are. I’ve made a list of choices open to you at the bottom of the page.” With that, she crossed her legs and pretended to read.
The room was silent. She glanced in his direction and saw he was holding the page in both hands. His face was screwed up in concentration, his lips moving silently as he read each word. She smiled to herself—this man was barely literate, yet just being alone in a room with him made her tingle all over. She squeezed her thighs together once more—the butterflies in her stomach would probably drown if they ventured south to her crotch.
He let out a sigh, scratched the side of his face and went back to the task of reading.
There were less than five hundred words on the sheet, but so far he’d been reading for almost five minutes. Maggie shifted position, this time crossing her right leg over the left. She saw his eyes flick in her direction, linger on the bare knees. She tilted her toes up, letting her right shoe dangle, her bare heel exposed. Maggie kept her gaze on the papers on her lap, but from the corner of her eye she could see his head turning slightly every few seconds. He couldn’t resist ogling her legs.
Still pretending to read, she bent forward and took off her shoe. She spread and wiggled her elegant toes, the nails expertly painted a deep red. She knew Sean was looking at her feet. Maggie had seen his wife’s feet—large slabs of white meat with toes as thick as a man’s thumb. Stepping back into her shoe, she stood and dropped her papers onto the chair. He was staring at her body, so she waited until he looked up into her face.
“What do you think?”
He seemed confused, and she half-expected him to make some crude comment about her body. Instead, he shook his head slowly and shrugged.
“Can I speak frankly, Sean?”
He shrugged again.
Maggie decided to move onto the next stage. She slipped her jacket off her shoulders and placed it across the seat of the chair she’d just been sitting on. She saw his eyes taking in the sheerness of her blouse, the clearly-visible lace bra, the smallness of her waist, the swell of her hips in the tight-fitting skirt.
He licked his lips.
She felt the wetness between her legs. “Sean?”
“Uh?” He looked up from her body.
“With all the evidence against you, I have to advise that it would be in your best interests to reconsider your plea.”
“What?”
“As your lawyers, it is our duty to try and get as light a sentence as we can.”
He shook his head. “Witnesses. Alibi.”
Maggie sighed. “Sean, they won’t help. Of the seven people who claimed you were with them, five have criminal records. One of them was actually booked for speeding on the same night, over forty miles away. Their stories won’t hold up to cross-examination, I’m afraid.”
His eyes narrowed as his brain struggled to process this latest information.
“We think you should accept the Breaking and Entering charge, and try to plea-bargain the attempted-murder for a lesser assault charge.”
“I never meant to hurt him.” As soon as the words were out, he slapped his hand to his mouth. This was the first time he’d admitted his guilt to counsel.
“I’m sure you didn’t, but we need to convince the jury of that in court.”
When she took a step closer, he lowered his gaze to look at her legs. She was slightly breathless and her heartbeat drummed against her ribs.
“I think we should try and convince the jury you panicked and lashed out at the security guard in an attempt to escape. But there’s no escaping the fact you inflicted severe injuries on the man.”
Sean kept his eyes on her red shoes. He nodded slowly, accepting he would probably be prosecuted after all. “How long?”
Maggie walked around the table, letting him have a good look at her backside. She used her pen to scratch the back of her head, knowing the deep auburn chignon allowed him a clear view of her slender neck. “I’m afraid with your history, the judge won’t be inclined to show leniency.”
Confusion creased his face. “What’s that mean?”
“It means he’s going to send you away for a long time.”
“How long?”
She stopped moving and stood two feet from his chair. “I can’t answer that.”
“A year? Two?”
“Sean, you’ve got a track record as long as your arm, and you put a security guard in hospital because he tried to do his job. The prosecution are saying you tried to kill him.”
“I never. He swung first—with his torch.”
Maggie could sense his exasperation. “Sean, you’ll be going away for a lot longer than two years.”
She was standing on the ledge, ready to take the leap.
His small eyes stared at the floor.
Her hands shook. “I think it’s safe to say this will probably be the last time you’re alone with a woman for a long time.”
He looked up from the paper in his hand, his eyes lingering on her body before staring into her eyes. His jaw was clenched tight.
Maggie’s throat constricted and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get the words out. “Maybe you should make the most of it.” She was so close to living out a fantasy she’d had since first entering law school.
He frowned, looked hungrily at her body once more. “Don’t you think I’m in enough trouble already?”
Maggie started to slowly pull her skirt up, revealing more of her bare legs, inch by inch.
He stared at her thighs as the skirt was pulled higher. He licked his lips again. “They’d throw away the key.”
“Not if they don’t find out…”
When she bunched the skirt around her waist, he saw she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Shock registered on his face, but then he dropped the sheet of paper and leaned forward.
She felt his rough hands gripping her hips and a gasp escaped her lips as he pulled her towards him.
He forced a hand between her legs and she saw him smirk when he discovered how wet she was. Standing up, he easily lifted her off the floor and sat her on the metal table. She parted her legs and he rammed two fingers into her sex.
She tried to stifle her squeal of pleasure.
“You dirty little…” He finger-fucked her hard and she came immediately, unable to contain the whimpers as she tightened around his thick fingers.
He put his face close to hers, his bad breath invading her nostrils. “You’re gagging for this, you dirty little slag.”
She stared at him through half-closed eyes, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth. She nodded. “Fuck me.”
His left hand fumbled with his trousers while he continued to pleasure her with his right. As his trousers slid down his thighs, he removed his fingers, gripped her hips in both hands and dragged her to the edge of the table. Her bare backside squeaked across the metal table-top.
He sneered as he positioned his cock at her entrance, then bared his teeth as he slammed into her, pulling her hips toward him.
She yelped. He was a lot bigger than she’d been expecting, his initial thrust painful. He slammed into her again and the groan caught in her throat. He brought one hand up to roughly grope her breast through her blouse and bra, then gripped her hips again.
Maggie pushed herself forward to meet his next thrust. One of her shoes fell off and landed on the floor as she wrapped her legs around his thighs. He fucked her hard and she came a second time. She leaned forward and bit into his shoulder.
“Argh, yer fucking bitch.”
He banged her even harder, which was exactly what she’d wanted. She clung on to his arms as he continued his assault. Her eyes started to water from the pain.
Suddenly he stepped back and out of her. He pulled her roughly to her feet and turned her round, bending her over the table. She had to stand on tiptoe with one foot to compensate for the lack of shoe.
She felt his hand run over the soft curve of her arse, heard his grunt of approval. Then his cock slid into her again and she gripped the edges of the table as he proceeded to fuck her with more force than she’d ever experienced. She was certain the table would have fallen over if it hadn’t been bolted to the floor.
She looked up and gasped. The red light on the CCTV camera was blinking.
Blinking. Shit.
Wait — did that mean it was working, or it wasn’t?
She tried to remember what the light usually did, but it was hard to concentrate while she was being fucked so hard. Were they actually being filmed? It was too late to worry about that now.
His hands slid up inside the front of her blouse and pushed her bra upwards, releasing her boobs. He squeezed them painfully in his hands and pulled her nipples while continuing to fuck her. It went on for minutes and Maggie knew she’d be able to come again. She started clenching her muscles in time with his thrusts.
Sean evidently noticed. “Oh yeah, you dirty bitch.”
She pushed back, clenched harder as if trying to force him out of her,
“Oh, it’s syrup time.”
The cheesy cliché would usually turn her off or make her laugh out loud, but it just spurred her on. She started to roll her hips, eager for him to come.
“Oh, here we go, here we go, here we fucking…”
He held still for a second and she felt his cock pulse inside her. She knew he was coming, a torrent flooding into her.
He pushed into her again—a single, violent thrust. “Go!”
The surging wave of Maggie’s third orgasm finally broke. It was as if her stomach melted and lungs imploded at the same time. She could see multi-coloured flashes of light hovering in her peripheral vision, and her legs started to shake.
His hands were back on her hips, fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh just below her waist. She could hear his ragged breathing and wondered how she’d explain the situation if he had a heart attack.
He stepped back and she stood upright. There was an awkwardness, and she kept her back to him while she adjusted her clothes. She pulled her bra over her boobs, straightened her blouse and pushed her skirt back down over her hips and legs, smoothing it down with her hands. Then she bent and put her shoe back on. When she turned round to face him, his trousers were fastened. His expression was one of shock, not the smug satisfaction she’d expected.
Maggie picked up his discarded piece of paper and walked back to her side of the table. She sat down, noticed the table-top was smeared with her own juices and wiped her hand across the surface.
Handing the sheet of paper back to Sean, she saw his face was bathed in sweat.
He looked down at the words briefly, then back at her. “So, what now?”
She picked up her briefcase and stood. “You’re going to admit to breaking into the premises with the intention of stealing. You’re going to admit having an altercation with the security guard, but we’re going to suggest his injuries were a result of you trying to get away.”
Sean lowered his head, nodded once.
Maggie returned the sheaf of papers to her briefcase, then slipped her jacket back on.
“Will you visit me again, before the trial?”
She turned to look at him, knew what he was really asking. “No, Sean, I won’t. This was a one-time opportunity—for both of us.”
Sean gave a shrug of resignation.
Walking to the door, she knocked once and it was opened from outside. She couldn’t stop thinking about the blinking light on the camera.
One of the officers smiled as he looked into her face. “Everything alright?”
She nodded, trying to hold her nerve. “Fine.”
He looked over her shoulder into the room, smiled when he saw Sean sitting at the desk. “Not so hard now, is he?”
Her heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by that?
As she was escorted back down the corridor, Maggie tried to convince herself he’d been referring to the change in Alderson’s attitude, rather than the state of his cock, but it was hard to stay calm with the evidence of their tryst seeping out of her and onto her inner thighs. Once through the main security door, she looked at the officer. “Is there a loo I could use before I drive back to the office?”
He nodded, led her to a small side-corridor. “Through there, second door on the left.”
“Thanks.”
Once inside, she used tissues to wipe the mess from her thighs, then mopped up as much of the remaining cum still inside her as she could. As she washed her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but other than that, there was nothing to suggest she’d just lived out her sexual fantasy. Now that the heat of their encounter had passed, she couldn’t stop thinking about the blinking light on the camera, or the smirk on the officer’s face.
* * * * *
When she got back to the office, she found Jake and Carol chatting in the reception area. Maggie gave Carol a secret smile as she made her way into her office. She went to Sam’s office and left a note on his desk confirming Alderson was prepared to change his plea.
Back in her own office, Jake wandered through from reception, made his way to his desk and smiled at her. “How’d it go at the prison—did you get what you wanted?”
She looked up, startled, then realised what he’d meant. She squeezed her legs together—she was still a little tender. “Fine. Mission accomplished. How was court?”
Jake shook his head and shrugged. “Another adjournment.”
“Oh dear.” She smiled, tilted her head to one side. “You and Carol seemed to be having a nice chat…”
Jake blushed. “We were just talking.”
“Hmm. She’s very pretty, don’t you think?”
He raised his eyebrows as if this was the first time he’d thought about it. “Yeah, I suppose so…”
“You should ask her out to dinner.”
Jake looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. It’s probably not the sort of thing you should do, dating someone you work with.”
“Jake, you can’t spend your life doing what you should do, you have to do what you want to do.”
Maggie squeezed her legs together again, reminding herself she’d done exactly that.
© 2016 Delores Swallows. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
About the Author: Delores Swallows has many dirty thoughts, and during his free time he writes them down in the form of stories. Born and bred in the northwest of England, he has a commoner’s accent and a bit of a crush on his future queen (Kate, not Camilla!).
His stories often feature petite brunettes, high-heeled shoes and voyeurism. He claims he didn’t realise these were obsessions until someone pointed out how often they appear in his work. www.deloresswallows.com.