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Tom's hand grabbed the back of my head and pushed my mouth deeper onto his rigid cock.
"Oh, fuck. I'm going to cum," he moaned.
The verbal cue was hardly necessary. I could feel his pulsing shaft with my lips and soon the warm, salty flood filled the back of my throat. I held his cock as deep in my throat as I could take it, swallowing his seed as both an act of self-preservation and to give him some final stimulation as his orgasm waned.
I released his softening cock from my mouth and sat back on my heels, giving him room to get up from his office couch.
As he pulled his pants on, he glanced over his shoulder to where I was still kneeling on the floor.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said. "She knows."
If I hadn't been on the floor, I would have collapsed onto it.
"Who? What does she know?" I asked, assuming that I knew the answer.
"Jess. She knows you've been giving me blowjobs in exchange for my legal work," he said.
My head was spinning. My entire life was crashing down around me. If it got around the small town we lived in that I was sucking another man's cock, it would ruin what little business I had left. And it would mean all the legal work Tom had been doing to help me regain access to my children would be wasted.
"Oh, fuck," I said. "How did she find out? Is she mad? Is she going to tell anyone? ... Shit. I am screwed. You are screwed. I'll never ..."
"That's enough," Tom said. "Settle down. Of course she was mad. Furious, in fact. And, she wants to see you. Tomorrow night. At our house."
"Me? What the fuck does she want to see me for?" I asked.
Tom explained that, a few days earlier, Jess had accused him of having an affair. She assumed he was fucking Becky, his 20-year-old secretary, and pestered him with questions. When she threatened to leave him, and tell everyone in town, including the mayor β who just happens to be Becky's father β Tom came clean.
I had come to Tom a year ago, after my ex-wife moved our children 200 miles away and started refusing to let them visit me. We'd gotten a quick, quiet divorce 10 months prior, after she caught me stroking myself to some Internet porn. I took the visitation and support schedule she demanded, even though it was far less time with my kids and far more money for her than was necessary. All this, of course, was on the advice of my attorney, a kid fresh out of law school who fee was on par with his experience.
As soon as the divorce was final, she announced she was moving, and that it would be best if I didn't see our kids anymore. Desperate to have some involvement with my children, I went to see Tom, the best lawyer in out town. After reading my divorce papers, he asked why I'd hired such an inexperienced attorney and taken such a bad deal.