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Subject: The Neighbour's daughter. Chapter 19 (Mf, cons, young teen)
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The Neighbour's daughter. Chapter 19 (Mf, cons, young teen)
We talked until midnight when we got home. There was so much Sophie
needed to get out. Things she had kept to herself for so long. Anger,
pain and all the things she felt she had missed. I mostly listened. It
wasn't the right time to try and convince her that her parents loved her
and always had.
We both stayed home the next day. Sophie's anger hadn't gone away over
night, but she was kind of relieved. She had gotten so much off her chest
and even though she wasn't ready to forgive her parents, she was ready to
listen to me. We talked until lunchtime. By then, Sophie was beginning to
understand what her parents had been thinking, and we were beginning to get
a little tired of talking about it. After all, she felt good, she was
where she wanted to be, and she was definitely with someone who loved her
unconditionally: me.
After lunch, we took a bath together. We both loved the feeling of
slippery soapy skin against skin. The marks and bruises after the
clothespins were apparently more or less gone. Her nipples were a little
sore, but Sophie admitted that she'd had the pins on her nipples for quiet
a long time. She couldn't remember exactly how long, or she wouldn't tell
me. I was cautious, but we still got pretty worked up, and we decided to
go to bed again.
"There's something I want to ask you to do," Sophie said, as we ran into
the bedroom, damp and naked.
"No spanking or clothes pegs, please," I grinned.
"No, it's not that," Sophie said, but added, "You might have to spank me
again. I'm such a naughty little girl and I get so hot when you spank me."
I chose to ignore that.
"What is it, then?" I asked.
"Do you remember when you had given me chocolate for my birthday, and
you licked it off my face?" she asked.
"Yes, I remember. I licked it off your face and a few other places."
"I think it was the first time I really realised how much you loved me.
I mean, it was so . . . intimate. Would you lick my face again, please?"
"I'll lick any part of your body that you wish, my love."
"Ummm, I might take you up on that later, but right mow, I just want to
feel you inside me, while you lick my face."
Sophie lay on her back and she pulled her legs up and out. I studied
her pussy before I lay down over her. It wasn't all true that the pins
hadn't left any bruises. There were several bruises on her outer and inner
lips. Only her clit had had no marks, probably because the pin had been
taken off so fast. I didn't confront her with the facts. It was over.
My cock sank into her very easy. I rested on my elbows with my hands on
her tits, very gently brushing over her nipples, and I began to lick her
face from the top, licking her brow and temples and continuing down to her
eyebrows, then her eyelids and her nose. Her cheeks were so smooth. I
spent a long time licking and kissing them thoroughly. I licked her ears a
little too, but I couldn't do Sophie's, and my own, favourite thing: suck
on her earlobes. The piercing hadn't healed yet. I continued with her
upper lip, licking and sucking it. She just let me do whatever I wanted
with her soft lips.
All the time, we moved slowly against each other. Except for rocking
her hips slowly, Sophie just lay completely still and enjoyed it. She was
breathing noisily through her nose, faster and faster. I was completely
absorbed in the licking, working down her neck after I'd licked every
square inch of her face. My tongue couldn't reach anything below her neck,
the way we were laying, and it just felt so good that I didn't want to
move. I let go of her tits, held her head in my hands and began licking her
face again.
Sophie suddenly inhaled noisily and rotated her hips more, grounding
herself against me. I sucked her lower lip intensely. It was an
incredible intense feeling to hear her breathing become ragged and
elaborate, feeling her moving harder against me, and whimper softly. It
seemed to me as if her orgasm built up much slower that it usually did.
Kind of deeper. I don't know if it felt the same way for her, but to me,
it was extremely erotic. I let go of her head and took her hands, holding
them over her head.
Her whimper became louder and her body twisted and turned under me. She
was struggling under me, struggling to get over the edge, struggling to
hold back and make it grow even stronger. She threw her head from side to
side. I let her control things; let her ground herself against me, even
though the urge to thrust hard into her was growing.
Her orgasm was a long whimpering cry. She trembled uncontrollably,
pressing her pussy hard against me. She pulled up her legs until her knees
touched her chest. It was time for me to take over. I plunged hard into
her with long strokes. Sophie met my thrust and arched her back to take me
in as deep as she could. It lasted an eternity. A fine sheen of sweat
covered both of us. I felt like I could go on forever. My pelvic bone
began to hurt, but I ignored it, and then all of a sudden I could feel it
building up. I tried to ignore it, too, but the intense feeling of
pleasure insisted on being noticed. I held back for as long as possible,
until it was too painful.
If I'd come in her mouth, she would have drowned. That is the best way
to describe my orgasm. I poured jet after jet into her. Afterwards, we
lay in each other's arms. No words were needed. We had talked all of the
previous night and all morning. We were exhausted and very satisfied.
- -
Sophie called her parents in the evening. She was very anxious before
she made the call, but once she'd done it, she felt much better. It was
her father that took the call and they talked for long time. It was the
beginning of some kind of understanding between them. Not that Sophie had
forgiven her parents - I don't think she ever will forgive them completely
- but she tried to understand and her father tried to understand her.
It took a long time, but the relationship between Sophie and her parents
got gradually better and better. Her mother has never really forgiven me,
or understood Sophie. She still talks about Sophie as "her little girl".
In the end, Sophie became much closer to her father than she'd ever been.
- - -
Finally, it looked like everything had worked out the way it should and
we were both happy. We had everything: a house, a car and a solid bank
account if anything should happen.
It was early in May when I got the writ. I had to read it several
times, before I understood what it said. I called Mr. Zimmermann right
away. I didn't have to explain.
"Yes, I had a call from one of my colleagues. He'd been approached
concerning Mrs Larsen's will and after talking to me, he recommended to his
client that he should give up. There's no case. Apparently, he has found
another lawyer who was willing to take the case to court," Mr Zimmermann
said.
"But who is this man and why do he think he has a right to Mrs Larsen
money?" I asked.
"The man is Mrs Larsen's nephew. Mrs Larsen had a brother and he was
married for a short time, but long enough to get a son. The son stayed
with his mother after the divorce and as far as I know, Mrs Larsen only saw
him once after the divorce. That was at her brother's funeral and that is
over ten years ago. I don't know on what grounds he will dispute the
will."
"What am I going to do? He has sued me."
"I'll recommend a lawyer to you," Mr Zimmermann answered.
"Why not you?" I asked.
"Because I'll be your most important witness."
"Oh, I see. What are the chances that I'll lose the case?"
Mr Zimmermann didn't even need to think about it.
"You don't lose the case. You can't. Mrs Larsen's will is an
affidavit, signed by a second person and me. Unless he can prove that Mrs
Larsen was senile and didn't know what she was doing, any judge will
dismiss the case. It had been different if you'd found the will in a jar
in her kitchen cupboard. Maybe that's what he thinks you did. He hasn't
approached me to get any details about the will other than your name and
address, which I find a little strange, especially when he wants to dispute
it," Mr Zimmermann said.
- - -
The lawyer Mr Zimmermann recommended was of the same opinion, but I was
still worried. I would be in deep debt, if I lost the case and Mrs
Larsen's money. I would be able to sell the house almost without loss,
except the expense of moving, but selling the furniture and the car would
mean a loss. I'd have to get another place to live and that would cost
money as well.
I'd gained a lot of confidence, job wise. I could afford to give up the
job without having another job at hand and that made me feel safe and I
think it was one of the reasons I did so well. I could afford to trust my
own judgement. Not that I wanted to make mistakes and get fired, but I
didn't have to worry about it and I dared take decisions that I might not
have taken, had I depended on the job. I was afraid I would lose that
self-confidence too, if I suddenly were in debt.
I had a lot of sleepless night over this. Sophie tried to comfort me,
and she was confident that I would win. She'd never seen anybody visit Mrs
Larsen all these years, except me.
"It will be so unfair if you lose. The nephew or whatever he claims to
be, doesn't deserve it," she said.
"That's not the way things are, when it comes down to legal matters.
The law doesn't recognise what is fair and what is not," I replied. "I'll
just have to hope that Mr Zimmermann is right."
"I can get a job. We'll make it work." Sophie said.
She sounded worried. I was worried, but the last thing I wanted was
Sophie to be worried. She'd been through enough already. Maybe it was a
little egoistic as well. I needed Sophie to be happy and kind of distract
my thoughts.
"We'll make it. Mr Zimmermann says everything is going to be all
right."
- - -
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait very long for the case to go to
court. In the end of June, Sophie and I went to the courthouse, very
nervous. None of us had ever been in a courtroom before. It was a new
office building and didn't look much like a courtroom to me, but then
again, I only knew what I'd seen on film.
I looked around to see if I could spot Mrs Larsen's nephew. He was
sitting with his lawyer by a table opposite mine. At first, I though the
young man was her nephew, but a little calculation told me that it had to
be the middle-aged man. Funny how conventions can deceive you; a lawyer
has to be at least forty, which is old when you are in your early twenties.
I don't really know what I had expected her nephew to look like.
Emotionally, I imagined he had horns and hoofs, but he looked very
ordinary, wearing a grey suit and an ugly tie. I'd been spending hours,
wondering why he would do this. My assumption was that greed was the main
motive, but looking at him made me a little insecure. He looked friendly,
smiling and not at all like a greedy monster.
The nephew's lawyer was young and very enthusiastic. He presented the
case and claimed that Mr Larsen was senile when she changed her will.
The nephew presented his statement. He claimed that he had visited Mr
Larsen regularly, although not often and that she'd been senile the last
couple of years of her life. I knew that wasn't true, yet her nephew
sounded convincing and even caring, when he talked about his old, senile
aunt.
He also claimed that she had told him that he was going to inherit all
her possessions. He didn't know what had made her change her mind.
Apparently, his aunt had told him that I was a scheming person and it was
obvious to her that I'd only been visiting her to get to her money. Mrs
Larsen would, according to his statement, never have changed her will in
favour of me. When his lawyer asked him what he thought had happened, he
implied that I had either forged the will or tricked her into changing it.
I was outraged. I wanted to stand up and shout at him. It was all lies
and his sleek and caring appearance was all acting. It had to be. Mr
Zimmermann was sure he hadn't seen her for years. I mean, why would Mrs
Larsen lie about seeing her nephew? She'd seen her brother regularly while
he was alive, but even he did see his own son very often.
My lawyer asked disturbingly few questions. Only one, actually. He
asked him why he hadn't come forward earlier. The nephew, Mr Jensen, had
some vague explanation about being away for some time and when he got back,
Mrs Larsen hadn't been at home. He didn't know that she was in the
hospital and only found out that she'd died when he read the obituary that
Mr. Zimmermann had written. Then it took a long time to find out who had
handled Mrs Larsen's estate to learn who had inherited her money.
Mr Zimmermann was next. My lawyer questioned him first.
"Mr. Zimmermann, how long have you been Mrs Larsen's lawyer?"
"Over forty years."
"Isn't it odd that Mr Jensen didn't know that and had to spend a long
time to find out who was managed his Aunt's estate?"
"I think it is, especially because I handled the estate of his late
father," Mr. Zimmermann answered.
"Did Mrs Larsen ever mention her nephew's visits?"
"No. She mention seeing him at his father's funeral, but that was the
only time," Mr Zimmermann answered.
"When did Mrs Larsen change her will?"
"Two years prior to her death."
"And who was the benefactor in the previous will?"
"Different charity organisations. I have a copy of the old will here."
He handed a copy to the judge and Mr Jensen's lawyer. My lawyer
continued.
"Did Mrs Larsen mention Mr Green's visits?"
"Yes. She talked a lot about Mr Green. She was very fond of him and
grateful for his help."
"We have heard Mr Jensen say that she was afraid that Mr Green was only
after her money. Did Mrs Larsen mention such concerns for you?"
"No. Quite the contrary. I had a suspicion that Mr Green was after her
money, but Mrs Larsen never told him that she had any money, neither did he
know that she had changed her will," Mt Zimmerman said.
"Was Mrs Larsen senile, when the will was changed?"
"No, she was definitely not senile. She remain sharp until the day she
died."
My lawyer took out a piece of paper, which he handed to the judge.
"I have a statement from the doctor who treated her during her
hospitalisation proceeding her death. It states clearly that Mrs Larsen
was sane and was in possession of all her faculties."
He turned to Mr Zimmermann again.
"One last question: Was Mr Jensen ever a benefactor from any of Mrs
Larsen's wills?"
"No," Mr Zimmermann replied.
Mr Jensen's lawyer was pale. He hesitated for a moment, before he began
to question Mr Zimmermann.
"If Mrs Larsen hadn't left a will, I believe that her estate would have
gone to my client, isn't that correct?"
"That's correct," Mr Zimmermann replied.
"Isn't it possible that you have worked with Green to get Mrs Larsen's
money? You could have forged the will."
I would have expected Mr Zimmerman to get mad at him, but he just
smiled.
"It is possible, but it would have required a lot of planning. First, I
should have anticipated this situation twenty years ago, when Mrs Larsen
made her first will. Secondly, I should have persuaded the notary to help
with the forgery. Last, but not least, I would run the risk of
jeopardising my good name and the firm's reputation to gain very little.
Sorry to say that, but Mrs Larsen wasn't that wealthy. It is possible, but
highly unlikely that I would do that, don't you think?" Mr Zimmermann said.
"But you could have done it?" He young lawyer persisted.
"I didn't, but I could," Mr Zimmermann replied.
The judge interrupted Mr Jensen's lawyer.
"Have you anything to substantiate your accusations?"
"Eh, no. But it does look suspicious that the all evidence about the
will and the estate is coming from Mr. Zimmermann, who himself might
benefit from forging the will," the lawyer said.
"I see nothing suspicious in Mr Zimmermann's testimony. Your
insinuations that Mr Zimmermann would have gained something by forging her
will are pure, unfounded speculations. Unless you have solid proof, I
suggest that you stop accusing Mr Zimmermann. I find it much more
suspicious that your client needed several months to find out that Mrs
Larsen's estate was managed by Mr Zimmermann, who had been her lawyer for
forty years and that your client, as the only one, claims that Mrs Larsen
was senile. We have a sworn statement from the hospital that she was in
possession of all her faculties. Do you have any relevant questions to ask
Mr Zimmermann?" the judge asked, harshly.
"No sir. I rest," the young lawyer said, dejectedly.
I'd expected the judge to retire before passing his ruling, but he just
continued talking.
"After hearing Mr Jensen and Mr Zimmermann, I find it hard to believe
that you, as a lawyer, has brought this case to court. You have in no way
managed to present any evidence that there should be reason to question the
authenticity of Mrs Larsen's will or her sanity. All you have been able to
do is to insinuate that a respected lawyer might have committed fraud. If
Mr Zimmermann should want to sue you for slander, you will probably end up
paying a substantial compensation. In my view, you have wasted the time of
this court, of Mr Green, his lawyer and Mr Zimmermann. Your client will
have to pay all Mr Green's expenses. Mrs Larsen's will stands."
It was relief. I couldn't help thinking: "was that really all?", but I
didn't say it out loud. It was more or less what Mr Zimmermann had told me
would happen. Still, in the back of my mind, I wondered what would come
next.
To be continued.