by E M Bannock
After about five hours, Zoey had enough and put an end to the deposition. This was Rhonda’s deposition, and Jonathan wasn’t allowed to answer or defend himself in any way. When Zoey asked Philip if he was going to depose Jonathan, his answer was a terse, “Not necessary.”
After Rhonda and her attorney left Zoey looked at Jonathan, who hadn’t moved from his chair. He was deep in thought. “Jonathan,” she said softly, “I know you, and I think I know the answer to this question before I even ask it, but as your attorney I’ve got to ask. Is there any truth to any of the accusations that Rhonda made about you?”
Jonathan looked up. His eyes were red and she could see the pain behind the tears that struggled not to flow. “No,” he said, emphatically shaking his head. In a voice barely above a whisper and tinged with pain, he continued, “Not a word was true. I would never hurt my son. I never beat her. I never sold drugs.”
“It’s okay. I believe you,” she told him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I know this was rough on you, but now we know what angle they’re going to use against you to try to get custody.”
Jonathan’s head cleared. “Will they win?” he asked, looking at her with red eyes.
“Not if I can help it,” Zoey said confidently. “She has no witnesses. She was unfaithful. She left you and deserted her son. The odds are in your favor.”
“Will I get full custody?” he asked.
“In the old days it would be joint custody, even though she’s a piece of shit. Things are different now. I’ve been before Judge Jones before, and I know he’s fair and savvy. It’s our job to make him believe you and not her. I’m confident we can do it.”
Jonathan managed a smile. “Thanks, Zoey.” He stood up and gave her an exceptionally tight hug. It melted her heart. She could hear his sobs as she hugged him back.
She looked at her watch. It was almost five. “Time to go. It’s been a long day. Tell your sister to call me. Did she tell you? Mickey’s going to be home for Christmas and we’re going to have a big Christmas party. You’re all invited.”
“Great,” he said, dabbing his eyes with a tissue before putting on his coat. “What do we do next?”
“We go home and relax. I’ll see you on Thanksgiving. You’ll be there with little Jon, won’t you?” He nodded. “Good. We’ll meet again after that. I’ll have Annette set up an appointment. Rhonda hasn’t asked for additional visitations for Thanksgiving, so we’ll keep on the current custody schedule for now. When does she see him next?”
“Next Tuesday,” he answered.
“I imagine she’ll want extra time with him around Christmas. Decide if you’re willing to give it to her. You don’t have to, but it might look better in court if you do. If not, they might try to say you’re heartlessly keeping your child from his mother.” Zoey thought for a moment. “How’s the little guy doing? Does he ask for her?”
Jonathan shook his head. “Not at all. He’s perfectly happy being with his Aunt Joanne during the day and me at night.”
“That’s good,” she responded. “How are the transitions before and after the two-hour visits?”
“He’s a little on edge, and gets kind of weepy when I hand him off to the woman at CASA. But I get a really big hug when I pick him up.”
“Poor little guy,” Zoey said. “This has got to be confusing for him. I’ve asked for the taped recordings of the visitations. When I get them, I want you to look at them. I also want you and little Jon to start seeing Dr. Angelika. She’s a therapist. She can help you both with the emotional distress. Her observations will be a big help to us in court. She works well with the GALs, and that’s important. I want her to see the tapes, too. Here’s her number. See her as soon as you can.” Zoey opened her desk drawer and retrieved a business card. She handed it to Jonathan. “For now, just go home and be a daddy to your son. He needs you now more than ever.”
Jonathan put the card in his pocket and hugged her. “Thanks again, Zoey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Zoey gave him a kiss on his cheek. “It’s okay, Jonathan. It’ll be fine.”
Chapter 6
Mickey traveled with protection when overseas. His ‘friend’ stayed with him until they made their mandatory one-day debriefing at corporate in Texas. Then he could continue home. He had arrived back in the U.S. the day before. The plane from Houston landed at Detroit Metro just minutes before Zoey arrived. Her anticipation was mounting and her body tingled with excitement. She could almost feel him approaching.
She stood at the baggage claim with her eyes glued to the escalator. There he was, the most handsome man in the world, her one true love and soul mate. Their eyes locked as he descended. He was easy to spot. The electricity of their desire was almost visible as they met and embraced, their kiss full of heated passion, their union complete.
“I missed you,” she said, staring into his familiar eyes.
“I missed you more, babe,” he replied. Her hazel eyes were edged with tears. They were the same eyes that stole his heart the first time he looked into them. “You smell good.”
“Just for you,” she said, pushing her leg against the inside of his. She reached into his long overcoat, feeling the hardness growing in his pants.
“I want to take you right here, right now, in front of all these people,” he said, breathing heavily.
“I want that, too,” she said. Hypnotized by his dark, piercing eyes, her body grew weak from their power. It took all her strength to maintain her composure. She took a deep breath. “But I think you’ll like what I’ve got waiting for you at home much more.”
Mickey gently pushed away. Grabbing her hand, he tenderly kissed the back before letting it go. A salacious smile crept across his face. “You always know what to say to make me want you even more. I love you.” She smiled. He saw his suitcase coming around the turnstile. He grabbed her hand and headed for the bag. He snatched it up without missing a step and continued to the exit, still holding her hand firmly.
On the way home the two made idle chit-chat about his flight and the upcoming holiday plans, but inside their sexual hunger was rising. Every time they looked at each other they got hotter and hotter, though neither one mentioned the growing sexual volcano ready to erupt inside.
The drive home seemed like an eternity. Finally they arrived. Mickey pulled the Mercedes into the garage and pushed the remote to close the door. He faced her. She looked beautiful in the dim light of the garage. He’d missed her terribly. The separations were the worst part of his job. Being apart from her was the one thing he still hadn’t gotten used to. He cradled her soft face in his hands, pulled her close, and planted a long kiss on her hungry lips.
“Ready?” he asked.
She looked up into the dark pools of his eyes and nodded.
“Okay, my little vixen,” he said. “What room?”
“Room number three. Twenty minutes.”
A large smile came across his face. “Oh, baby,” he said with excitement. “Room number three. See ya.” He looked at his watch and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before he popped the trunk.
By the time he got his bag out she had already disappeared into the house.
It was a little game they’d developed through the years to add an extra element of fun to their sexual play time, not that they needed any help. They’d learned long ago that it was much less distracting for them not to talk about how horny they were on the way home. This was the time to catch up, find out how the trip went, any new local news, events of the day kind of thing. That way, by the time they’d made the 45-minute trip home they’d said all that needed to be said. They could concentrate on their lusty hunger.
Every room of the house had a number. The number was associated with a sexual performance, complete with costume and an assortment of sexual aids. They didn’t have enough rooms to accommodate all of the different sexual fantasies they had created, so they assigned three to four different scenarios to each room. The element of surprise st
ill remained. He didn’t know which of the possible scenes he would find tonight. Room number three meant that Zoey would be dressed as a prairie wife, a French maid, or a librarian. He knew what to expect. The common thread was that she would act shy but submissively open to almost anything. It was wild card night.
He entered the house from the garage and headed straight towards the master bedroom. On the way, he passed the bedroom they called “Room number three”. He glanced inside without pausing. The room was dimly lit with candles next to the bed. He could definitely smell the aroma of sage incense coming from the room, which meant someone who was practical. Okay, he thought. That narrows it down to two: prairie wife or librarian. His anticipation grew. Maybe she wanted to get spanked tonight.
He dropped his bags by the bed in the spacious master bedroom and started to strip off his clothes. He always liked to shower as soon as he came home. It was symbolic and therapeutic to him, the shedding of the staunch and powerful business man known as Michael DeLucca and becoming the husband and lover Zoey called Mickey.
The hot, cleansing shower felt soothing on his back and he could feel the tension there lessening. For a brief moment he forgot about everything. He could feel the stress of his job and the world wash away and disappear down the drain. As he stepped out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and began drying off. In the mirror he saw her reflection in the doorway of the master bedroom. Yes! She was wearing thick, black, horn-rimmed glasses. She was the librarian, one of his favorites. His cock began to grow hard just at the thought. He caught her looking at his reflection in the mirror.
“Oh!” she squealed, and went running out of the bedroom and down the hallway.
He threw the towel down and looked at the clock next to the bed. Exactly twenty minutes had passed. It was time. He walked naked to room number three. The practical sage scent he’d smelled earlier was growing more pungent as he approached. Soft classical music was playing from somewhere in the room. The flickering light of candles invited him in.
He stood in the doorway and looked into the muted light. It was a guest room that also served as a quiet reading room, furnished with a small desk and a few file cabinets. There were also two curio cabinets displaying various family heirlooms and souvenirs from his travels and their vacations that the French maid was responsible for keeping clean. The centerpiece of the room was the king-size sleigh bed. The bedding was extra thick, as were the pillows. On the end table next to the bed he could see a variety of sex toys laid out. His eyes moved over to the plush recliner chair and reading lamp next to the bookshelf.
There she was, stretched out on the chair reading a book, her hair pulled up into a bun at the top of her head. She was wearing a tightly fitted blouse that covered her arms. Its high collar was buttoned up to the top. He could see she was wearing a tight, dark-colored skirt that was suggestively riding up her thighs and the outline of the sleek black spike heels she was wearing. The heavy black glasses were down low on her nose. Her lips were ruby red and inviting.
He knocked three times on the door.
“I’m sorry,” he heard from the other side of room. “The library is closed.”
“But I’ve got an overdue book I need to return.”
“I can’t let you in,” she said without looking up.
“Well, it’s your job,” he said firmly. “I might have to report you to your supervisor if you don’t service me.”
She glanced toward him as she sat up straight and undid the buttons on her blouse until her cleavage showed. She pushed the thick glasses into place with her finger, then let it drop to her pouting red lips for a moment before cupping her breasts. She began massaging them, making the nipples visibly erect. “Oh, please,” she begged. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to get into trouble. I’ll do anything you say.”
He was getting excited and walked towards her. Her eyes were locked on his perfect naked body. She admired his toned muscles reflecting the dim light. He flexed as he approached. His noble, chiseled face and thick hair never seemed to age. This was her man. She needed no other.
He stood in front of her, naked and clean-smelling from his shower. “Anything?” he asked. She could see his manhood fully erect in front of her face.
She put the book down and reached for him with one hand. She grabbed his hard cock and pressed her cheek against it. “Anything,” she said, looking up at him through the thick-framed glasses.
He picked up the book. “What are you reading?” he asked. He looked at the cover. It was titled, Sexual Positions: A Photographic Guide to Pleasure and Love, by Glenn Wilson. They had both read it long ago. It was another clue as to what he could expect from her tonight. In short, whatever he wanted.
A smile came across his face. “So, you like getting nasty, you naughty girl. I like a naughty girl. But that still doesn’t excuse you for not doing your job. I think we should start with a spanking. Follow me,” he commanded. He proceeded to walk to the bed and sit on the edge, putting the book down next to him. She stood in front of him. “Now take off your blouse.”
She obeyed, unfastening each button, slowly revealing a lacy, floral, strapless bra underneath. Taking off the blouse, she threw it to the floor. He reached out and unsnapped the bra’s front hook. Her breasts heaved forward. Pulling from behind he removed it. Her hands went up to cover herself.
“Now take off your skirt,” he ordered, ignoring her attempt at modesty. Slowly she pulled the back zipper down, let the skirt fall to the floor, and carefully stepped out of it. He admired the view before him. She still had on a white lace G-string, the spiked heels, and the glasses. “Why, Ms. Librarian, you are a dirty girl under that stiff collar.” He looked her over like a piece of merchandise. “Mmm. That’s better,” he said with satisfaction. “Turn around for me.”
She obeyed. Her anticipation was growing and she could see that her nipples were hard as acorns. She loved the foreplay games they played. It was part of what kept it exciting all these years. She quivered in anticipation of what he would do to her.
Once she was facing him again he stood up, reached around her back, and pulled her close to him. He kissed her with open mouth. She did the same and savored the taste of him. Their tongues danced in harmony as they pressed together, feeling each other’s warmth. He pushed her away. She stood before him again.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the book, and patted his knees.
She muffled a squeal but obeyed his command. She adjusted the band of the g-string and placed herself over his knees, ready to receive her punishment.
Gently he removed her glasses and looked at the perfect round ass before him. He began to tenderly rub his palm over its curves, feeling every part. He cradled it and began squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers a little more aggressively. She sighed in anticipation.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said, staying in character, “but you are a civic employee and are derelict in your duties. I have to do this.”
“I understand, sir,” she replied in a soft voice. “I noticed that your arms are extremely strong. You won’t hurt me, will you?”
Patting her bottom gently with the book, he said, “That’s entirely up to you, now isn’t it?” With that he slapped her ass with the book. Its sharp report echoed in the room. She giggled.
“You think this is funny?” he asked. He slapped it again, this time a little harder.
She let out a squeal. “Oh, I’ve been much naughtier than that.”
“You have, haven’t you,” he replied with a smirk as he brought the book down again, harder. She flinched but quickly relaxed. After a few more hard slaps he asked, “Had enough?”
“Almost,” she replied.
Again he cracked the book hard on her ass, which was now a scorching red. After a few more she let out a moan. The stinging was exquisitely painful and she liked it. It heightened her sensitivity. He put the book down and grabbed the lotion that was sitting on the night stand.
“I think you’ve lea
rned your lesson, young lady.” He poured some lotion into his hand and began rubbing it into the red-hot skin of her ass. Its soothing coolness gave her skin relief but did nothing to quench her burning lust. He always knew just how much spanking she could take. His lotioned fingers wandered down the crack of her behind. She raised her ass to meet his touch. He felt that she was wet and hungry for him. He pushed aside the g-string and slid his fingers into her as she moaned loudly, tickling her anus with his thumb as he did. Something he learned from the very book she had just been spanked with.
Zoey was in heaven. She’d fantasized about this moment for weeks, and wasn’t disappointed. She was willing to give herself to him in any way he wanted. Her heart was beating strong. She gave in to her desire and got ready to let him take his pleasure as he chose.
Flipping her off of his knees, he spread-eagled her on the bed. He stepped back and admired the view for a moment. She lay there, writhing in pleasure, looking up at him with hungry eyes. “I’m here for you,” she said, touching herself between her legs.
Reaching down, he grabbed the front of the g-string and pulled it off. He climbed on top of her and began kissing her amorously. She sucked on his tongue as his hands explored her body. Reaching down, she cupped his balls in her hand.
“You want me in you?” he asked.
She nodded and said, “More than anything.”
Rolling over, he guided her head toward his cock. “You have to suck it first.” He reached over to the end table and grabbed the glasses. “Put these on,” he commanded. She obeyed.
She took his shaft into her mouth and began twirling her tongue around it. Then she deep-throated him over and over. Now it was his turn to moan. “Ah, that’s it, baby. Just like that. You sure know how to give a good blow job. Did you learn that in one of your books?” Grabbing her head with both hands, he guided it down as her mouth performed its magic. He felt his orgasm surfacing. “I’m not gonna come now. I’m not finished with you yet,” he said, and pulled out of her mouth.
