The Slutty Judge

On a spring Sunday morning I was enjoying the sunrise from the east, staring through my bedroom window with a cup of coffee in my right hand, and my robe open as I was naked under it. I sipped as I looked over at the City of Norfolk from my waterfront property, thinking how I fucked and sucked in a few of those tall buildings across the Elizabeth River.

"I love my life," I said to myself, because I did, for I worked hard to get to this point in my life.

It was Father's Day, and I stood there while playing a song in my head as I tapped my feet to my hardwood floor, just staring at the "Icon" building (more on that later) with my soft cock still dripping after Demetrius, an ex-con, fucked me senseless. I could still smell us after he left, and wondered why him, and so many other sexy, young black thugs loved a fat, white man's ass. I didn't complain, for my first cock was a black guy I adventured with in a threesome post my divorce, and he tore me in half the first time, only for me to see him for weeks after.

"Your life will never be the same again," he told me after the second time he bent me over, and he predicted the truth.

I couldn't say I would've never experienced cock if I didn't divorce my Sandra; I hungered for sex so much prior to our dismissal to where it drove me to curiosity, and ultimately a versatile bottom. I finished off my coffee on this Sunday morning as I continued to think, and my mind wandered from "having my rosebud split," to when I was that broke teenager growing up in Philly, and made a decision to become a lawyer.

"Son, broke Italianos from South Philly don't become lawyers," my mother told me.

I was 17, and on the cusp of my senior year when I was booked for fighting. Those words of hers came from a single mother of four sons, me being the oldest, and the biggest hard head of them all. I also was a straight A student, and one who loved to argue, and so I went full throttle my senior year applying to colleges, and got accepted to Villanova. I felt her frustration so much, that I busted my ass three years there, finished summa cum laude, and even hungrier to help my family. I received scholarship money to attend the University of Virginia, and would obtain all my credentials there before crushing the bar, and becoming a counsel.

In 1985. I was put on as a junior assistant defender in Wake County, North Carolina, still hungry to get my mother, and three brothers out of the slums of Philly, and being a star, to the point of eventually making my way as a commonwealth's attorney in Hampton, Virginia. I touched down in Virginia and met Sandra, a Colombian court reporter who was super professional, but with an attitude, and one who allowed me to be the only guy she'd talk to. One date led to another, then we moved in together when she told me Steven, Jr.. was on the way, so we married, and our lives would take off from there. She encouraged me to aim higher when it came to being in the courtroom, and I did, when a friend of mine who ran for commonwealth's attorney of nearby Portsmouth was elected, and asked me to be on his team.

I diced up criminals there, and Rocky, the friend, would secede his seat due to health reasons, and allowed a special election to take place. I ran a campaign thinking I was on a wing and a prayer, only to find I would win the election by a landslide from my reputation of what I'd done for the city (and a huge financial push for my campaign). I was on a roll, with Sandra by my side, and our four kids in tow, and built my pyramid to be where I stood today: in a four bedroom, three bath, two level property on the Crawford Bay. It was 2023, and it was supposed to be me and Sandra growing old together in this place, 40 years later, with all our kids grown and successful. She and I were supposed to be staring through the big window at Norfolk naked and happy, but once our youngest son graduated high school and moved on, she chose to do the same.

"I want a divorce," she told me, and after 26 years, she found a way to rock my world in a way that changed the course.

Sex had become sparse between us, and I attested it to my weight gain, for she met me at a whopping 140 lbs. Life happened as we carried on, to include more money coming in, and better food, having four kids that we spoiled with snacks, and ultimately I put on a good 100 lbs. of "happy weight." There might've been other factors such as us outgrowing each other, as there were things that didn't appease me as before, yet I tried to press on by asking her to lull it over for a couple of months.

"Steven, I can't," was her rebuttal after three months.

I admit I was heartbroken and wondered about telling the kids. It resonated with them because they saw the change in us, and that brought me peace to make it swift and easy for the both of us. Sandra and I had no ill will, and even kissed once the gavel was dropped after agreeing we'd be friends forever. I left her our Chesapeake home to her, paid in full, and even traded in her vehicle for a new one. I settled on an apartment while playing the bachelor life, dating freely, but getting readjusted to my life without a wife. I actually liked dating different women, from different backgrounds, and came across Michelle, a black BBW news anchor originally from Chicago.

Michelle and I became pretty steady, for we remained private, and had the best of times. Our first time having sex was at the Sheraton Waterside Marriott, and she sucked cock and balls better than Sandra, or any other woman I'd been with. I returned the favor eating her sweet pussy until she squirted, then banged her senseless as she brought out the best in me in the bedroom. Our sexual relationship evolved when she mentioned a threesome, and invited Darius, one of the cameramen from her station, to join us for an encounter.

That rainy night changed it all for me as we went drinking, and went back to his place where I watched them go at it for a bit, and joined in, except I was sucking his cock after he ravaged that sweet snatch. I was super turned on by such a humongous cock, that I laid on my back, and spread my legs as he opened me up for the first time. It hurt like initially, but the thought of being someone else's bitch was too heavy. We met a few more times until Michelle got bored with me, but Darius and I remained regular as he knew how to shove that nine inch cock inside of me.

Darius was the one who got me started as that freak bottom, and now, as I stood in my window watching the boats float on the water, I was getting horny all over again. I was no longer that judge. I was a grandfather (babysitter), a father, a friend, and of course, the slut of the month whenever a guy came over to the place. Demetrius was just the latest in a string of partners that enjoyed a five foot seven, 240 lb. bear, one with long hair, and a long, gray beard compared to the bare face and short cut I was once sported. I truly loved my life, and smiled while looking at the Bank of America, Sheraton, World Trade Center, and other buildings where I received cock orally, or within my sphincter zone. I loved my life, and would enjoy my Father's Day knowing, that I was, The Slutty Judge.

More to cum.