Johnny Wraith Stories

Saturday night, and we were tangled together on her King-Sized bed, coated with sweat and still panting, lying atop the bare mattress with its floral swirls showing. Clothes scattered the floor, as did all the sheets, blankets, and pillows.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you come over to see me?”

“You called tonight.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re only 24 and I’m 42.”

“42 backwards is 24.”

Diane giggled and shoved me out of the tangle we were in. “I need to go wash this out of me,” she said, then she jumped off the bed and into the bathroom.

The toiled flushed and she came out. “You came a lot.”

“I couldn’t hold back.”

“You’re 24,” she accused, standing there at the foot of the bed, arms akimbo.

“Diane, don’t start this again. I love to be with you.”

She didn’t move. “Why?” she insisted.

“Oh God. Not this again. LOOK. I love to spend time with you. You always have so much to talk about. You’re so interesting because you’ve done so many things. We always have fun together.”

“But you aren’t attracted to me.”

“How can you say that?”

“I’m so much older.”

I sighed and threw my head back onto the mattress, threw up my arms.

“Don’t do that to me!” Diane insisted, keeping her feet firmly in place but reaching out with one arm to aim an accusing finger my way.

I looked up at her.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What else? I know I’m smart, fun, and have done a lot of things. WHAT ELSE?”

I sighed again, threw back my head.

“God Damn it Johnny! Do that one more time and I’ll fuck you in more ways than you can count! You know I can do it.”

I inhaled slow and deep, exhaled, slow and deep.

“Johnny! Answer me! WHAT ELSE?”

I looked up. Then I sat straight up. We met eye-to-eye.

“Well?” Huffed Diane.

“You want the real truth?”

“YES.”

“The first time we met, just outside your office…”

“Yes?”

“I loved your lips. They were so full, so inviting.”

“Go on.”

“All I could think about was what it would be like to have you sucking me off.”

Diane’s fury immediately subsided. She sat at the foot of the bed and lightly grasped my ankle. In a soft voice she whispered, “What else?”

I reached for her bare shoulder and grasped it tightly. “I thought about what it would be like for you to swallow it all when I came.”

Diane crawled over the bed to me on all fours, and we slowly tightened into a full body embrace. She whispered into my ear. “What else?”

“After we were introduced, and you walked away, I noticed how nice your ass was.”

“What did that make you think?”

“What it would be like if you were naked, on all fours, looking over your shoulder, and saying ‘Fuck me Johnny!'”

“My ass isn’t that nice. I’m 42.”

“Bullshit. You do the Stairstepper every day for an hour, and it shows. Your ass is firm, nice and round, like a juicy pumpkin. None of the other girls come close.”

We immediately started kissing, tongues wildly engaged.

“FUCK ME JOHNNY!” Insisted Diane. Then she jumped onto her knees and elbows with her head to the mattress, her back arched. “FUCK ME!”

“I’ll take care of you baby, but it’s going to hurt.”

***

On Monday, I entered the courtroom and took a seat.

The Bailiff called “All rise!” Everyone stood. Judge Anderson came in, took a seat, and popped the gavel. All were seated.

The cases were called, various motions argued.

Then it was my turn.

“Case CR94-00987 State vs. Gonzales.”

“Bob Jacobs for the State,” said the prosecutor.

“Johnny Wraith for Gonzales,” I announced.

“Gentlemen, I have reviewed Mr. Wraith’s motion to suppress the evidence, and if the State is unable to assert evidence, at this time, that the Gonzales confession was not obtained through illegal means, or that other evidence supports the charges at hand, this case must be dismissed.”

“But your honor! This case involves a serious crime. The victim was brutally raped. This matter must be tried in this court,” insisted the prosecutor.

“Mr. Jacobs. I’m sorry, but the only evidence against Mr. Gonzales was obtained through obvious coercion and the refusal of counsel, unless you can argue otherwise, today. Any witnesses or exhibits?”

“But… but… your Honor!”

“Can the victim testify?”

“No your Honor. She is too traumatized to speak a word right now.”

“Please be seated, Mr. Jacobs. Mr. Wraith?”

“Nothing to add your honor.”

“Case dismissed,” announced Judge Diane Anderson.