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5
What was stopping her, was a fear that openly acknowledging the subject would make it exist in reality, and, if that happened, she knew deep down that she would succumb to her daughter’s advances.
“Alright mother, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but I don’t think you want me to really.”
“I’m making tea, would you like one?” asked Fiona in an attempt to introduce some normality into the conversation.
Fiona was relieved when Annabelle decided to change the subject.
“Yes please, I’d love one. So, are you ready for your big case this week?”
“I think so, I think we’ve got a good chance of getting her off, it was her partner that did the real damage.”
********************
Fiona’s legal team were defending a female police constable in her mid twenties. She had been charged with assault, her partner, an older, much more experienced male officer, had been charged with murder. They had been called to a disturbance at the home of the deceased. The male officer had tasered the man, and was accused of kicking him in the head and upper body. The female officer had used her baton and it was alleged that she had struck the man twice across one of his arms and his back.
The case was high profile because the deceased was a well known guitarist with mental health problems, and it would attract lots of news media attention. The male officer was being represented by a legal team from the chambers where Annabelle was currently working. The trial was scheduled to last a week, in the end, it lasted two weeks.
Throughout the trial, Annabelle knew that she needed to support her mother, and to make life easy for her. She still kissed and fondled her every morning and evening, but she didn’t come on to her like she had been doing lately. The case was covered on the national and regional tv news, and was in all of the national daily newspapers.
On the first day of the trial, Annabelle watched the BBC TV national news, followed by the regional programme. The film footage showed the defendants and their legal teams arriving at Crown Court and climbing the steps up to the entrance. Annabelle watched her mother walking next to her client, the camera lingered on them both; two sexy women in pencil dresses and heels. She imagined that many thousands of men up and down the country would be watching and fantasising about fucking her gorgeous shapely mother. When Fiona arrived home, after their by now mandatory hug, and kiss on the lips, they talked about the case in detail and Fiona explained her team’s approach.
“You were on the tv news mother, you looked fabulous, so sexy, how did it go in court?”
“Quite well I think, did you see the defendant?”
“Yes, she’s not quite how I imagined her, nothing like those photos of her in her police uniform.”
“Good, that’s part of the plan, her best hope is to put plenty of distance between her and her colleague. She’s young, and we’re presenting her as a novice copper under the supervision of an experienced colleague, we’re trying to lay all of the blame at his doorstep. That shouldn’t be too difficult because it’s mostly true, but we’re not leaving anything to chance. Did you see how she dressed, and how she carried herself?”
“Yes, she looked quite sexy too.”
“That’s because I advised her on her appearance. Appearance isn’t everything with a jury, but it can go a long way. I told her that she needed to look sexy, yet vulnerable, to wear figure hugging dresses, not too short, a respectable knee length, and high heels, but not too much makeup. I suggested that she should walk tall, but she mustn’t on any account smile, and she should try to cultivate a slightly injured look.”
“Well it worked perfectly, that’s just how she came across. The cameras dwelt on the two of you, no one else got a look in. God, you should have seen the footage of your two shapely backsides swaying up the court steps in your high heels, you’ve got this in the bag.”
“Not yet darling, there are lots of detailed legal arguments going on at the moment, but the cross examination should get started tomorrow, or maybe on Wednesday.”
After dinner, Annabelle spent the rest of the evening with her mother’s stockinged feet in her lap, treating her to a welcome foot massage, then stroking her calves and ankles as they watched tv. From time to time, as her mother shifted the position of her legs slightly, Annabelle was treated to a view up her skirt. The stocking tops and suspender clips looked very sexy, and on one occasion, she got a good look at her silky white panty gusset.
“Let me up darling, I want to go and change out of my work clothes.”
“That’s a shame mother, I was just enjoying the view,” confided Annabelle as she gazed at her mother’s shapely legs with her skirt riding half way up her thighs, “did anyone ever tell you what gorgeous legs you’ve got?”
“Yes darling, and you’ve managed to inherit them.”
Annabelle was still in her work attire, and her black miniskirt had also ridden up her thighs as far as the beginnings of the lace welt of her barely-black hold up stockings.
“How are things at work darling? Are you enjoying the job?”
“The job’s okay, nothing special, but it’s a really interesting place to work.”This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Now that Sophie’s out of the picture, have you got your eye on anyone special?” Fiona braced herself, she knew the question was stupid mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
“There’s only one woman that I’m interested in,” she replied as she stroked her mother’s knee. Fiona gently pushed her hand away.
“Annabelle, please don’t.”
“I’m sorry mother, I promised myself that I wouldn’t pester you while you’d got this big case on. I won’t do it again, I promise. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”
“Yes please darling, that would be lovely.”
Annabelle came back into the longe just as the ten o’clock news was starting on the tv.
“Oh look mummy, there you are, I told you that you looked great on tv. I’m going to dine out on this for a long time.”
After the headlines, the first news item was the trial, Fiona watched herself climbing the court steps with her client, and was secretly pleased at how professional, yet sexy and attractive, she looked. She’d had messages from close friends and colleagues, all telling her how good she looked. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a message from ‘DuPont. S’ which said ‘Still as foxy as ever Hathaway, there’s a warm place between my thighs waiting for you if you’re ever down this way.’
Fiona basked in the knowledge that the gorgeous Sylvie was still turned on by her. She was also pleased with the news report, she felt that most men would have fantasised about getting into her client’s panties, and most women would find it difficult to believe that such a demure, feminine looking woman would be capable of violence.
The news reports were aired on a daily basis throughout the whole trial. Fiona got used to seeing herself on tv; walking to the court in her high heels and pinstriped skirt suit, or pencil cut shift dress. Annabelle looked after her well, she was as tactile and flirtatious as ever but she didn’t cross the line by attempting overt incestuous seduction. Instead, she masturbated daily with her new vibrator, sometimes twice a day. She loved to watch herself, in the bedroom mirror, as she pulled the hem of her short skirt up over her stocking tops, before slipping off her panties and inserting the irresistible implement into her wet cunt.
The jury was sent out to reach a verdict on the Thursday afternoon of the second week. On the Friday morning, Fiona took special care with her outfit and makeup. She wore a black six strap suspender belt with matching balcony bra and panties, black opaque stockings and her black four and a half inch stilettos. She found her shortest pinstriped skirt, from the back of her wardrobe; she hadn’t worn it since the days of her affair with Sylvie DuPont. It was tight, pencil cut style, and the hem was six inches above the knee.
She adjusted her suspender straps to their shortest setting and wore her longest stockings. Every morning so far, the press and tv cameras had practically ‘upskirted’ her as she climbed the steps to the court entrance. Several of the trashy, salacious tabloid newspapers had used these images extensively on the pretext of reporting the trial. She wanted to tease them today, to show them as much shapely leg as she dare, but not enough for them to catch a glimpse of her stocking tops.
Her fitted white cotton blouse looked classy, and showed no trace of her black underwear. Her auburn hair was taken up in an unstructured chignon that looked sophisticated yet, effortless. This would be her last filmed walk to the court building and up the steps to the entrance; she wanted to make her best impression yet.
She knew that she’d been dubbed as ‘the sexy solicitor’ on social media and that, together with her curvaceous client, she had caused quite a stir, and had attracted numerous online proposals of marriage. The public mood seemed to favour her client, Fiona knew that, for better or worse, this was partly down to the way she had advised her to dress and comport herself; she hoped the jury had been similarly influenced.
Fiona had booked a taxi to get them both to work. She knew that, win or loose the case, she would end up in the pub celebrating, or drowning her sorrows, and would be in no state to drive home. Annabelle was waiting for her in the hallway when the cab arrived.
“The taxi’s here mother,” she called up the stairs.
“Okay, I’m coming.”
Moments later Fiona appeared at the top of the staircase. Annabelle’s heart leapt at the sight of her sexy, sophisticated mother.
“My God! You look absolutely stunning, you’ll crash the social media sites today. Come and let me hug you.”
“Careful darling, don’t damage the goods,” said Fiona as she surrendered to her daughter’s embrace. She felt Annabelle’s hand on her buttocks and her thigh pressing into her pussy. She didn’t object, in fact she kissed her daughter playfully on the lips.
“So, do you think your Mummy is hot?”