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From: Ole.Joe@poboxes.com (Ole Joe)
Subject: {ASS}  Lawyers in Love 1/3 by A. Van Peebles (FF)
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From: an182636@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Lawyers In Love (f/f)
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 1995 03:50:35 UTC
Message-ID: <035403Z15121995@anon.penet.fi>






The following story contains descriptions of adult, consensual, lesbian 
sex. If you are under the age of twenty-one or if such a story would 
violate the standards of acceptability in your community, please do not 
read any further.







The following is a work of fiction. The characters are fictional and 
any resemblance to actual persons is coincidental.

The author grants permission to duplicate and distribute this story so 
long as the distributor charges no fees, does not alter the story in 
any way, and includes this notice with all copies. Permission is also 
granted to include this story in any archives, so long as the above 
conditions are met.




Lawyers in Love (1/3)
by A. Van Peebles

Copyright 1995 by the Author

	Becky looked up from her work as Mr. Barringer and the woman 
walked into her office. Becky was surprised. Mr. Barringer rarely came 
into her office; she usually reported to the senior partner's office 
not the other way around. The woman was someone new to her. She was 
older than Becky, probably about twenty-nine, but younger than any of 
the other women in the office. She was small, about 5'2", with a good 
figure and good taste in clothing.

	"Becky, this is Katherine Martin, our new associate," said Mr. 
Barringer. Turning to the new woman he continued, "Becky here is our 
law clerk. If you need her to look anything up for you, just ask her, 
but clear major research projects with Ms. Riegger."

	The two women shook hands. The new woman smiled and said to call 
her Kate, followed by a pleasantry about getting together for lunch, 
then Mr. Barringer took Kate off to introduce her to the rest of the 
staff.

	Another woman in the office, and someone closer to her own age, 
Becky was glad. The legal secretaries were all over forty and they had 
little in common with Becky. With the exception of Kate, there were no 
female lawyers in the firm. The partners were all much older and, while 
nice, did not socialize with her. The two other associates were in 
their twenties, but once she made clear that she was not interested in 
going to bed with them they stopped talking to her about things other 
than business. There was no one to chat with, and the office was kind 
of dull.

* * *

	After Mr. Barringer had finished taking her around to meet the 
staff, Kate settled into her office. While she was organizing her 
things, she assessed her new job. It looked like a good office. It was 
a small, conservative firm. She wanted a small firm, and this one made 
lots of money. The four partners all had excellent reputations and they 
seemed like nice people, albeit in a solid, WASPish, Republican kind of 
way. The other two associates were typical young, ambitious lawyers. 
They were probably jerks, like most young men, and would undoubtedly 
hit up on her, but given the reputation of the firm, they were probably 
excellent lawyers.

	The support staff seemed pretty typical, but older and with 
little in common with a young, ambitious female associate. That Becky 
was a luscious number though. About twenty-three, svelte, creamy skin, 
long black hair, small breasts, she was absolutely stunning. Kate 
caught herself. It was not good to be thinking like that. This was a 
small, conservative firm. Sexual relationships in the office were not 
good for the career. Besides, Becky was probably straight. Kate's 
breakup with her ex-, Jeannie, had been rough, and she did not want to 
do anything stupid that would sacrifice her career for a fling on the 
rebound from a long relationship. She would have to make friends with 
Becky though. Her sanity would depend on having at least one confidant 
in the office.

* * *

	The next day at about noon Becky's intercom buzzed.

	"Becky, this is Kate. I was wondering if you were up for having 
lunch today, my treat. In return for picking up the check, I expect you 
to give me the lowdown on the office, a perspective on what it's like 
for a young woman to work here."

	"Sure. When would you like to go?"

	"Why don't you meet me at the reception desk in about fifteen."

	Becky enjoyed the lunch. There was not much she could tell Kate 
about the office. It was a good place to work; the worst thing about it 
was that there was no one to talk to on breaks, or to have lunch with. 
She warned Kate about the other two associates, too late. One had hit 
up on Kate already. 

	Becky told Kate about herself, how she worked at the firm during 
the summer and a few hours a week when law school was in session, how 
she got the job through her dad who was a tennis partner of Mr. 
Barringer. Becky found herself opening up to Kate, saying things about 
her personal life that she never thought she would tell a stranger. She 
never talked to anyone about her sex life, but she did it with Kate. 
This was more evidence that she really needed someone with which to 
talk.

	Kate did not learn much about the office, but she did learn a lot 
about Becky. Her gaydar was pinging throughout the meal. Becky was an 
athlete, a softball player. Her body showed it. She was thin but had 
broad shoulders and well muscled, but still very feminine, arms and a 
knockout ass and pair of legs. She had been brought up in all-girl, 
Catholic schools and attended an all-woman college. Becky talked about 
her boyfriend, but somewhat shamefacedly admitted that they did not 
have sex. Becky was waiting for marriage, a self-described 
"old-fashioned girl."

	Kate came away from lunch fairly certain that Becky was 
approachable. She would not act on this belief, however. If she was 
wrong it could be disastrous. What Kate took to be lesbian traits might 
just be Becky's strict Catholic upbringing repressing a 
heterosexuality. She reminded herself that not all softball players 
were lesbians.

* * *

	That night, Becky was feeling lonely. Her lunch with Kate had 
made her itchy for companionship. She called Peter, but his roommate 
said he was at the library and would not be back until late. She 
thought about leaving a message telling him to come over, but decided 
against it. If he came over late, he would stay the night, and every 
time he stayed the night there was pressure for them to have sex. 

	Peter was very good; he never pushed. He clearly wanted to fuck 
her (a chill went through Becky's spine when she thought the word 
"fuck," it made her feel dirty), but he respected her wishes. They 
usually just necked and when Peter slept over they played spoons, but 
little else. Occasionally, when she got him especially excited, she 
would give him a handjob (and rush to Confession the next day). She 
would let him play with her breasts, little as they were, but never let 
him touch her "down there." 

	Becky often wondered if this were unnatural. Peter was a really 
nice guy, and she liked spooning, feeling the warmth and closeness of 
his body, but she just did not want anything more from him. 

	She was embarrassed that she had confided so much in Kate, a 
complete stranger. She had not told her about details like the spooning 
or the handjobs, but she did admit to not having sex with Peter. There 
was something about Kate that inspired trust. Maybe it was her 
openness, her smile. That laugh she had, it was infectious.

	She was a beautiful woman that was for sure. She was an athlete, 
like Becky, but not into sports. Kate said she worked out in a gym, 
lifting weights mostly. Becky thought about her own body and wished she 
were curvy like Kate. Kate had real hips, an hourglass figure, and 
breasts. Becky was embarrassed about her breasts. She was very 
flat-chested. Kate's breasts were not particularly large, but they were 
nicely proportioned to her smaller frame.

	Becky realized that as she had been thinking about Kate, her hand 
had slipped down between her legs and she was absent-mindedly rubbing 
herself. She stopped. Masturbation was bad enough, but thinking about a 
woman while doing it, that was sick. 

	This was not the only time she had had thoughts about other 
women, though. Those thoughts and he apparent lack of sexual desire had 
worried her. She had read some psychology books on the subject, and 
once even asked a priest about it. Both the books and the priest 
assured her that occasional thoughts about members of the same sex were 
normal, and not to be worried. It did not mean anything. Becky was 
worried though, the thoughts came a little too often to be considered 
occasional. Still, she had a boyfriend, and although they did not have 
sex, that was because she was saving herself for marriage, not because 
she did not like men.

	She had never acted on any of these thoughts, and that reassured 
her some. A woman had even hit up on her once, and she had done 
nothing. It had been freshman year in college. After softball practice, 
Lori, the first baseman, had asked her to pitch some extra batting 
practice. They practiced about forty-five minutes later than the rest 
of the team and the locker room was empty when they entered it. Even 
the coach, who usually stayed late, had left.

	In the shower room, Becky could not but help look at Lori. She 
had large breasts, and Becky wished that she had breasts like that. 
Lori noticed Becky's glances and came over to borrow some shampoo. As 
Becky handed her the bottle of shampoo their hands touched. It was as 
if an electric shock ran through Becky. Lori stepped closer, touched 
Becky's shoulder and ran her hand lightly down her arm. Lori stepped 
even closer and leaned forward letting her lips brush against Becky's.

	Becky closed her eyes and started to return the kiss, then 
suddenly, overwhelmed with fear, stopped and pushed Lori away. Becky 
apologized, telling Lori that she was not "like that." Lori said that 
it was her fault and that she should not have made a pass at her. That 
was the end of it. They quickly finished showering and never spoke of 
it again.

	Going to an all-women's college, Becky knew lots of lesbians, 
some were even good friends of hers, but none ever came on to her after 
that incident in the shower; Lori had spread the word that Becky was 
straight.

	As she was thinking of the incident with Lori, Becky's hand had 
wandered down between her legs again. She was quite wet. She sighed and 
gave up, too horny to resist. She pulled off her pants and underwear 
and started masturbating in earnest.

	She rubbed her fingers in small circles around her clitoris with 
her right hand and stroked her labia with her left. With eyes closed, 
she forced herself to think of Peter. She would give in to 
masturbating, but not to thinking of other women. 

	She wondered what it would be like to take his penis in her 
mouth. In her thoughts the penis changed into Lori's breast. She was 
sucking on the nipple, licking around the areola and flicking the tip 
of the nipple with her tongue. Again, she forced her thoughts away from 
Lori and back to Peter. What would it taste like if he came in her 
mouth? She brought her left hand up to her mouth and tasted her juices. 
Would it taste like that, she wondered? Would it taste like a woman? 

	Peter had nice, broad shoulders, like Kate, but his body was hard 
and straight, not curved like Kate's. She wondered if spooning with 
Kate would feel any different. She tried to imagine it. Kate kissing 
the back of her neck, rubbing her breasts, then slipping her hands down 
between her legs. It was something she never let Peter do, but in her 
fantasy she let Kate do it. She imagined turning to face Kate, kissing 
her on the lips and letting her hands run down the other woman's body. 

	Becky could no longer control her thoughts. Peter vanished 
entirely, his place taken by images of Lori and Kate. As both hands 
furiously rubbed her clitoris, a strange, but very pleasurable, 
sensation began to well up from within her. It grew in intensity, 
uncontrolled. As the contractions of her orgasm began, Becky imagined 
her legs intertwining with Kate's and the two of them grinding together 
to a simultaneous orgasm.

	As the waves of her orgasm crashed over her, Becky almost blacked 
out. She had to stop touching herself; she was suddenly too sensitive. 
She was sopping wet, and a puddle of liquid had formed on the couch. 
Becky lay panting. Gently, she brought her right hand back between her 
legs. The sensitivity was fading; she could touch herself again. She 
slowly stroked herself, amazed at the wetness. She did not masturbate 
often, and it had never been like this before.

	Was that an orgasm? She had thought she had had orgasms before, 
but evidently not. It was incredible. Maybe she was really missing out 
on something, saving herself for marriage. She thought that it would be 
wonderful to do that for real.

	Suddenly, she went chill. "For real" would be with another woman. 
It all fell into place. Her choice of an all-woman's college, the 
incident with Lori, her longings for Kate, the lack of interest in sex 
with Peter, her first orgasm happening to thoughts of another woman, it 
all pointed to one conclusion.

	No. She refused to believe that she was "like that." She was not 
a ... lesbian. She hesitated before thinking that word. She had used it 
before without embarrassment; everyone who went to a woman's college 
had, but she had never dared apply it to herself.

End of the first of three parts.


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