Judge Watts?
I glance up from my paperwork to find my assistant in my office.
I didn't even hear her come in.
This criminal case I'm going over is making my head spin.
There are so many people involved, I don't even know where the fuck to begin.
Yes, Rebecca?
A Miss Amelia is here to see you.
She said you're expecting her?
I pinch the bridge between my forehead and give my assistant a curt nod.
In reality, I am not expecting Miss Amelia and I have no idea how she found my office.
But I guess a quick web search can get you that.
Amelia steps into my office after Rebecca.
Thanks Rebecca, you can close my door.
I patiently wait for my assistant to exit before I stand.
Amelia doesn't look like the woman I know.
The woman standing in front of me looks like any of the female lawyers that busy my hallways.
She's wearing a black and gold skirt suit and heels.
Like what you're seeing?
She smiles and steps forward to my desk.
What are you doing here, Amelia, and how did you find me?
She pinches an invisible fluff off her shoulder.
It's not hard to find you, Judge Watts.
You should not be here.
She sets her purse on my desk and begins walking around my room.
She touches my bookshelf, pulls out a book, puts it back, and then brushes a finger over
the leather couch.
Why?
Because this is highly inappropriate.
She faces me with a bored expression.
Inappropriate because I'm a paid whore?
Can you keep your voice down?
Are you afraid that your colleagues will find out that you love prostitutes?
My eyes drift to her long, deeply tanned legs as they make their way over to my couch.
Oh, great.
Fucking great.
That a highly respected and upstanding man like you, Judge Watts, would pay to have your
dick sucked off?
Shhh.
She laughs.
What's the matter, Judge?
I move to the door.
What are you doing?
What is?
I motion between us.
It is a private matter and I rather not have unwanted visitors.
Amelia tilts her head.
Hmm.
Now what do you want and don't make me fucking ask again?
You've seen me three times once a week, and last week, I haven't heard a peep from you.
I've been busy and as you now know, I'm a judge.
Very busy judge.
That, and the fact that I'm trying to wean myself off this woman.
She's like a drug, an addiction.
I can't seem to not want her.
And though I was keeping my limit to once a week, I needed her every goddamn night.
But paying two grand per session is outrageous.
I'm a judge but also a man.
I'm a fucking 45 year old with needs.
My wife left me for a younger guy six years ago and since then, I've been celibate.
But then my best friend, Henry, hooked me up for my 45th birthday last month.
I didn't know, however, that Amelia was a paid escort.
But after the first time, I was hooked.
I was a fucking fish.
And now I can't stop.
Ever.
She has me by the balls and she knows it.
Amelia moves in front of me.
That may be true, but…
But what?
She snakes her hands over my shoulders.
But you have needs, Bevan.
You don't know what I need.
She chuckles and tisks.
She has eyes trailed down my stomach and stop exactly where I thought it would.
Based on what I'm seeing, I know exactly what you need.
Now is not the right time.
I'm in the middle of… what are you doing?
She unbuttons her jacket and flings it aside.
Amelia.
Damn it.
Fucking damn it.
Shhh.
You don't want your assistant to hear, do you?
Then she inhales a long breath.
Unless you're into those kinds of things.
No, no, I'm not.
Stop undressing.
She's wearing a gold chiffon-like blouse.
It's so fucking thin that I can see her breasts beneath.
My god.
Why is she not wearing a goddamn bra?
She leans against the back of my couch, crossing her legs.
God.
Her legs are so fucking sexy.
Amelia separates the buttons on her blouse.
This woman has beautiful, bountiful breasts.
Ones that fill my mouth perfectly every time I feast on them.
I can suck on them all fucking night.
And those breasts happen to be watching me through extremely thin fabric.
I swallow.
Maybe I should think this through.
This woman is in my office.
An escort.
If anyone gets wind of this, it's over.
My career is over.
My plans for running as mayor are over.
Maybe I should just make her my wife.
And what the fuck would the headlines for that be?
Man marries… no.
The judge marries sex worker, turns whore into housewife.
Fuck.
What?
Are you no longer impressed?
She releases the last button on her blouse.
I move back, squeezing the edge of my desk.
I should leave her alone.
I should dismiss her, tell her to leave.
But my mouth won't comply with my brain.
I want this.
I want her.
She attempts to spread her blouse but stops.
Should I stop?
No.
Before I know it, I'm standing in front of her.
I reach out to touch her but she moves away, slipping out of my reach.
Uh-uh.
We haven't agreed upon a price.
I groan.
Fucking Amelia.
And since you got me coming all the way here to you, it's gonna cost you more.
How much more?
Three grand.
I lick my lips.
Done.
Had she called for five thousand, she would have gotten it anyway.
Now come here and let me touch you.
She makes a slowly tantalizing step and I grab her, pulling her onto me.
God.
She smells good.
So fucking good.
My hands seat beneath her top and cover her breasts.
Amelia inhales sharply as I lift her mounds, massaging her dark nipples with my thumb.
Hearing her moan and pleasure is enough to get me off.
Her hand drifts to my crotch and she unzips me.
This needs to be quick or my assistant will-
Fuck your assistant.
She dips her hand behind my zipper and all I can think of is claiming her like some
goddamn animal.
I love it when you're hard for me.
Come here.
I whisper, lifting one of her breasts and covering it with my mouth.
Mmm.
She tastes sweet.
So fucking sweet.
Amelia clutches the back of my head, pressing me onto her.
I suck, squeezing her breasts into my mouth.
She moans.
I switch to the other breast, leaving the first one swollen, resembling the peak of
an ice-capped mountain.
Perfection.
I lick the tip of her bud, dragging my teeth over it.
I intend to nibble, to bite, to devour every fucking piece of her.
I drag my tongue over her, giving short, tender kisses.
She pushes me away and falls to her knees.
Amelia reaches for my belt, unbuckling me as if she's in a hurry.
As if she'll get taken by some monster outside my door if she doesn't do it quickly.
But I don't want her to suck me off.
I want to feel my cock inside her.
I want to fuck.
I want to destroy her pussy until she never forgets who I am.
I pinch her perfect little cleft chin.
I don't want to fuck your mouth.
I want that dirty little pussy.
She exhales sharply.
Turn around.
She turns, still on her knees.
I lower to the floor and hike her skirt to her waist.
She's not wearing any underwear.
Fucking hell, you're...
I came prepared.
She breathes.
I shove her down until her pretty little face is pressing against the carpeting and
whip out my dick.
She grunts as I bury myself in her perfect pussy.
This is heaven.
This is the fucking end of all things.
This is the end of me.
She has no idea how many times I've dreamt of this pussy.
How many times I wished I was fucking her instead of listening to these boring ass cases.
I slip in and out, marveling at how wet she is.
How wet she is for me.
Faster.
I quicken my pace.
Faster.
She moans.
Ah.
She glances back at me and bites her lips.
I smack her ass, slamming my cock deeper.
This.
This is fucking it.
If I don't get this pussy every week, I'm gonna lose it.
Amelia begins moving with my rhythm and it sends me off a bridge.
Shit.
Fucking shit.
It's as if she has this superpower to hold onto my dick, to grip me while I'm inside.
Sweet Jesus.
This is fucking awesome.
I, I, ah, fuck.
I burst inside her, bathing her sweet pussy with my cum.
I can't feel my legs.
I fall away from her onto my back.
My heart is racing and I can barely catch my fucking breath.
Amelia crawls towards me and smiles.
Now, I get to do what I want to do.
Shit.
She moves her head down my stomach.
Amelia.
She takes my penis and slips it into her mouth.
Her eyes are dead set on me as she sucks.
I'm semi-hard, but if she keeps this up, I'm gonna come in her fucking mouth in a matter
of minutes.
A knock sounds on the door.
Judge Watts.
Shit.
Judge Watts.
I clear my throat.
I'm in no position to speak, but I try the best that I can.
Uh, yes, Rebecca?
Um, are you okay?
She attempts to open the door, but it's locked.
Oh.
Sorry.
Amelia drags her tongue over my shaft.
What is it?
Your, your two o'clock is here, sir.
Fuck.
Then tell them I'll be with them shortly.
Y, yes, Judge.
I attempt to stand, but Amelia presses her palms on my stomach.
Jesus fucking hell.
Amelia.
I whisper.
Get off.
Get the fuck off now.
When she doesn't comply, I pry her off my dick.
This bitch is insane.
But I'm not...
Stop.
Just stop.
I have a client waiting at my door.
She huffs and stands, pulling her skirt down.
Then I'll have to bill you extra for not letting me finish.
Fine.
What the fuck ever?
As long as she leaves, there's no telling how the fuck my office smells right now.
Damn it.
A knock sounds again.
Judge watch?
Just a second, Rebecca.
I zip up my pants and fix myself.
Amelia is slipping on her jacket when I move for the door.
No, not yet.
What?
My check.
When I don't say anything, she says, Write me my check now or I'll make a noise.
Alright.
I grab my checkbook from the drawer and scribble 4500.
I rip it out and hand it to her.
She beams, waving the paper and then stuffing it in her blouse.
Nice doing business with you, Judge.
Amelia leans in and kisses my cheek.
See you next week, sweetheart.
I squint at her.
She unlocks the door and walks outside, passing Rebecca and my client at the door.
Rebecca's about to say something, but I stop her.
Give me two minutes.
I need to use the washroom.
Um...
Okay.
I head across the hallway and slip into the washroom, slapping water over my face.
Get yourself together, Bev.
Fucking hell.
I don't know what spell this girl cast or what she has done to me, but I think I'll
be needing her much sooner than a week.
I might need her tomorrow and the day after that.
Shit.
God help me because my bank account is about to go fucking dry.
You have met the end of Whipped.
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Bye!