Full service lawyer [MF]

I love this sub and I think I have some fun stories to share. This one was pretty recent, so why not start there? Maybe I will share more later on.

Like all lawyers, I took professional responsibility in law school. I also took the ethics exam as part of becoming licensed to practice. But despite all that, my present day memory of all the ethical rules for representing clients is patchy at best. (When unsure, you look up the rules, right?) But one rule that I have never forgotten is that you cannot have sex with a client. RPC 1.8(j).

Hmm. You might guess where this is going.

Anyways, I practice employment law. I represent employees who have been mistreated by their employers. Last winter, I [34m at the time] took a call from a woman who had been fired from her position with a local public health agency. The woman, let’s call her Amanda, had raised concerns about the agency’s COVID response—that it was inconsistent with CDC guidance and contradicted the present science—and she was fired shortly after. I liked the case—it seemed like at least a colorable case of wrongful termination. So I signed her up and worked with her on drafting a demand letter to the agency.

This being COVID, all of our communications were on the phone. I did not know what Amanda looked like. I just knew that she was just over 40 (since we had briefly discussed whether there could be an age discrimination claim), and that she was very blunt and bossy. I found her kind of frustrating as a client. She kept sending the demand letter back to me with way too many edits and wanted to go over every item on my bills. (Bills that were very modest—like 3 to 4 hours in a month.) I had an image in my head of what she looked like, and it was not flattering. (Basically, I was picturing the mom from Malcolm in the Middle.)

We finally get the letter in the mail, I make contact with the prosecutor representing the agency, and after a couple of weeks, we agree to mediate the case. The mediation was going to be on Zoom, but I suggested to Amanda that she come to my office so that we can more easily discuss the case during the mediation. (If you do not know how a mediation works, the two parties are in separate rooms with their respective attorneys, and a neutral mediator goes back and forth between the rooms trying to push the parties towards some mid-point where the case can be settled). Amanda agreed that it was a good plan.

The morning of the mediation, I was setting up my laptop in the conference room when Amanda arrived. She was not what I was expecting—for a couple of reasons. First, she did not look like who I was picturing. She was very petite and wearing a navy sundress with a floral pattern on it (it was now early summer, btw). She was about 5’2” and like 100 lbs. She had dark brown, almost black, hair pulled back into a pony tail, and smooth pale white skin. She had a pointy yet dainty nose. But the thing that struck me the most about her appearance was that she did not look her age at all. I would have guessed she was younger than me.

The second thing that upended my expectations was her immediate warmth. As difficulty and bossy as she had been on the phone, she immediately gave me the sweetest smile when I introduced myself as the lawyer she had been talking to for 4 months. I was surprised as well when she came close to give me a hug. I have had clients hug me before, but only at the very end of my representing them when we were saying goodbye with some finality. This was hello.

In the conference room, I started to explain how having two laptops with their speakers and microphones on could cause feedback, so one of us should mute ourselves, when she told me she didn’t bring her laptop. She said she spaced and left it at home. Could we squeeze together and share one computer, she asked. Sure, I wasn’t mad about that.

The mediation started at 9 am. The mediator was spending far more time in the other [virtual] room than in ours, so we had a lot of time to chat. We ran out of books we were readings and rants about our feelings about the then-current president, and there started to be some awkward silences. It was then that Amanda asked me where the other attorneys were. “It’s only us” I told her, honestly. My office is small—only 3 attorneys work in the suite—and most of us were still working at least part-time at home. That day, I was the only one in the office.

She started leaning in closer to me as we were talking. I felt her touching my forearm and her shin pressing into my calf. What was the RPC? Is that still a thing?

I saw where this was going, so I stopped any pretense and put everything on the table. “So, I’m still your lawyer until we get this case settled. But after the case is settled, we should celebrate as friends”. I felt her hand squeeze my leg under the table. “Drinks are on me” she said.

We got the case settled pretty quick after that. It was a good outcome—about a year’s salary.

About six weeks later, the settlement checks were on my desk and I was waiting for Amanda to get to the office so she could pick them up. I had barely talked to her since the mediation and I had assumed that whatever flirtation had occurred was a fleeting moment that had passed. When she arrived, she never took her mask off, kept her distance, and made very little small talk before taking off. Oh well.

Months later, I get an email from her. It is very short. “I still owe you drinks! I want to celebrate with you! Free this weekend?”

Fuck yeah I am.

Amanda picked out a very nice place. A $25 cocktail type place. Whatever—she is buying. We arrived at about at the same time, hugged by the hostess table as we were waiting to be seated. Maybe 20 minutes later, as we are just starting on our first drinks, somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of Amanda’s apartment. She said that her place was basically across the street from the lounge we were at, and that she walked by this place every day but had never come in until that night. I joked that it was an easy commute home for her and she replied, “well, I might still need you to walk me home.” She was good at this.

Instead of a second round, Amanda suggested she make us some drinks at her apartment.

To be clear, I am not some sort of suave lady’s man. Faaar from it. My heart is beating hard and during this and my mind keeps going blank, leaving lots of dead air in the conversation. I am sure my face looked like some combination of a horny teenage and a deer in the headlights.

We left the lounge and she looped her arm around my elbow and leaned into me as we walked towards her place. It was a very short walk, and soon we were stepping off an elevator and she was steering me down the hall to her unit.

I would like to say that we immediately started ripping each other’s clothes off as soon as we stepped into her apartment, but that aint me. I’m the nervous guy who blows his opportunities. That’s more my style.

So we are in her living room, sitting on separate couches, drinking our old fashions, and chatting about inane nonsense to fill the silence when suddenly we both fall silent. I gain a little bit of courage and I ask, “what do you want to do?” She gives me a look, like that was not the right question. “What do you want me to do,” I ask next.

She puts her drink down on the end table and stands up. She gestures for me to cross the room. The fire has been lit and my nerves are gone. I cross the room and wrap my arms around her kiss her. We both fall back down on to the couch. She straddles me and we continue to kiss and grope over the clothes. In between kisses, she says something but I missed it. “huh?” She says it again, clearer this time, “lick my ass—that’s what I want you to do.”

That is not generally my thing, but I like to please. I pushed her off me and face down onto the couch. I forcibly pulled her leggings and panties down to her knees and pushed her skirt upward. She pushed her ass upwards and I stuffed one of the end pillows under her hips.

As a quick aside, there has always been something especially alluring for me when a woman is completely dressed but exposed just enough for sex. I do not know where that kink came from, but seeing Amanda’s naked ass while she was otherwise completely clothed…well my brain was operating on low blood flow.

I pulled her cheeks apart and dug in, pushing my tongue into her tight little asshole. Rimming was not a regular part of my sex life, but I had done it a couple times before. This time, however, I was surprised at how much I loved it. Her ass did not taste like ass—it was just amazing. I played with her pussy with one hand while I continued to tongue her ass.

She pushed me off and sat up. “Take your pants off” she said as she did the same. I was happy to oblige. I laid back on the couch with my erect cock out and she climbed on top of me. She still had her blouse on despite being naked from the waist down. She grabbed my dick and lined it up with her pussy, and lowered herself onto me.

As I felt her tightness engulf my cock, I closed my eyes and let my mind focus on the feeling of her vagina adjusting to my presence, and then her slow movements as she grinded herself into my pubic bone.

As good as it felt, I prefer being on top, so I told her to switch after a few minutes. Instead of laying back, she got into doggy. No complaints. I leaned down and gave her ass a quick lick before beginning to fuck her from behind. But with her freshly licked ass staring at me, my mind was quickly obsessed with the idea of anally fucking her.

I should note that, at my ripe age of 35, I had never had anal sex.

I took my thumb and started teasing her asshole as I continued to fuck her. *How would a smooth operator initiate anal sex*, I wondered. “Can I stick it in your ass?” *shrug*

“I haven’t done that in a long time” she said. “Go slow”.

Oh fuck, I almost came right then. I pulled out and leaned down to lick her ass some more while my cock calmed down. Then I slowly started to work my thumb into her ass until it was in past the joint. She stuffed the top of her head into the crook of the couch and took long deliberate breaths. “Is this okay?” “Yes, but go get the oil from the kitchen”.

I jumped up and grabbed the bottle of olive oil from beside the oven and ran back over to the couch, where Amanda was still ass up and head down. I poured a little oil on her ass and slowly stuck my thumb back in. I worked it back and forth slowly for what seemed like several minutes but which was probably 15 seconds, and then poured some oil on my cock and lined my cock’s head up with her glistening asshole.

I pushed—not hard, but with consistent pressure. I used my thumb to help encourage it to pop into her asshole. After about 10 seconds, I could feel her asshole opening as my dick slid in.

I moved so slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, until I was all the way in. Then I started to move in and out and… then I came. It was too good feeling. I couldn’t handle it.

Amanda flipped around and gave me a long deep kiss. Then she pulled back, gave me an almost smirk like expression, and then leaned down and took my entire olive oil and ass covered cock into her mouth. She blew me until I was hard again and then kept blowing me until I came again—this time in her mouth.

I felt paralyzed after. All my limbs were jello and I couldn’t see straight. Amanda and I collapsed on her bed and passed out. In the morning, she thanked me for a wonderful night and walked me to my car.

That was about 4 months ago. I haven’t talked to Amada since. However, on several occasions when talking to prospective clients, I have asked the question “where did you get my name” and received he answer, “Amanda _____”. So I guess she was a satisfied client.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/sippby/full_service_lawyer_mf