Power Play

Story Info
A British lawyer working in America gets trapped.
11.2k words
4.4
68.7k
48
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Piers pushed himself away from his desk with a sigh. He stretched his back to try and ease the dull ache that had built up from being sat there for so long. A quick glance at his discrete, gold watch told him that Angela, his wife, would probably kill him when he got home. He sighed again.

"Well, at least it's bloody finished now," he muttered to himself as he gathered up the papers that were strewn across his desk. A quick shuffle into the flimsy, plastic folder and then he placed them in the wall safe that was built in to the wall of his large corner office. He was just putting on his raincoat when the door opened and one of his colleagues, Gloria Swandale strode in. She was startled by his presence and jumped slightly when she saw him.

At Piers' look of polite enquiry she said, "Sorry Toffee. You made me jump, I thought everyone had gone home, otherwise I would have knocked."

His name was actually Piers Toffington-Smythe, but his old prep school nickname had followed him though Cambridge University, the British Bar Association, Crown Courts and finally over the Atlantic to the New York Firm of Bader, Bader, Van Buren and Jones. Even his wife, Angela addressed him so, either that or Toffee Nose if she was in a playful mood. He also always knew when he was in trouble. If Angela ever called him Piers then he would run for cover.

He had been employed by one of the old, established firms and had made a name for himself as a devastatingly effective defence lawyer, firmly in the mould of the old school. Best of all, in his own opinion, he had met the love of his life when he was working at the Old Bailey in London. Angela was from a different social stratum than his, and Piers' friends had warned him that it would never work. They were wrong. His parents had not been very pleased and his mother in particular had kicked up quite a fuss.

Piers had been forced to warn them not to make him choose between his parents and his fiancée unless they were truly prepared for the consequences. It had taken a while, but his parents finally resigned themselves to a daughter-in-law who was not quite their-sort-of-people. Calm and reserved at all times in public. Always immaculately turned out in a dark double-breasted suit and University tie, with the plummy accent that is indicative of a private education in only the most select of schools. To all intents and purposes he looked the archetypal British snob. The appearance was deceptive. He was a down-to-earth man never who judged on first appearances and was far from a snob.

He grinned and asked in his deep, mellow voice, "It's okay. What do you want?"

Gloria strode across to his desk and dropped some paperwork in his in tray.

"I've just finished up on Barnwell v Barnwell. You said you wanted to look over the casework before it was filed."

"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you. Well I can't hang about. Angie's already going to kill me. Bye." With that he hurried from the room and headed down to the underground parking area to his car.

Gloria remained in his office. She still could hear his accent and it grated on her. The way he pronounced 'e' instead of 'a'," she shuddered as she recalled the way he had said, "Thank you."

She looked around the office at the rows of shelves filled with the books of law that were his reference library. The print of Constable's Haywain that covered the safe. She knew it concealed a safe, all of the partners had one. She herself was not yet a partner, Gloria had been hoping for it and indeed had been in the frame to be offered, however that old fool Van Buren had come across Toffington-Smythe during a professional visit to the United Kingdom and after one thing and another, she had been passed over.

It stung.

"Limey bastard," she muttered as she looked around, "This should have been my office."

She ran her slim and perfectly manicured finger along the edge of the mahogany desk and then slipped behind it to sit in his burgundy, leather chair.

Gloria decided that she would take a very keen interest in Piers Toffington-Smythe. A little bit of digging and who knew what a person could find. Especially one as adept as she was, and with all the contacts she had. After all, as her father had once told her, you can never know too much.

Piers pulled his BMW sedan into the parking spot outside the large suburb home he shared with Angie. As he walked up to the front door, he was struck once more by the differences between his life here in America and back home. The sale of his West End Flat had almost covered the entire cost of this colonial style, 4 bedroomed house. And what a house it was. Not only that, he was still amazed at how everything seemed so much bigger here. Houses, cars, personalities, everything.

He entered the door and called out, "I'm home. Sorry I'm late." As he hung his coat on the polished wooden hat-stand that stood just inside the front door, Angela came through from the kitchen. She was not happy.

"Toffee, it's after nine. Dinner's ruined."

He leaned towards her and gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, "I know, I'm sorry. But I had to get the Fuji-com paperwork done."

She softened slightly, "Well, okay. But you work too hard. I haven't seen much of you these past few days."

Piers twisted his neck from side to side and stretched his back once again as he answered, "Well, it's done now. So we'll be able to see more of each other now."

His brown eyes held a cheeky glint as he pulled Angela into a hug and whispered, "Much more. Forget dinner, I've got a better idea." His hand touched her chin and he moved her face up to his for a gentle kiss. Angela allowed the kiss to continue for a moment before she pulled away slightly, "In that case, I won't forget dinner. You'd best eat, you'll need to keep your strength up. Come on I'll make you a sandwich."

She led him into the kitchen and sat him down at the breakfast bar. He watched her as she prepared his food. Angela was in his opinion, perfect. Just over five feet tall, blonde cropped hair and a slim, lithe figure. Legs that were long for her height leading to a small, rounded backside. Slim-waisted with small but beautifully formed breasts. Her eyes tinkled bright blue when she was happy and he loved that. Although they shined even brighter when she was angry and he loved that as well.

Piers smiled to himself, although he found her beautiful in her ire, it was a double edged sword. She rarely got angry and if she did, then it was always for good reason. Even though he outweighed her by about 30 pounds, and all of that well toned muscle he still wouldn't cross swords with her. She was a Nordic Valkyrie, but in perfect miniature.

After chomping his way through a huge Bologna sandwich, he swigged the last of his mineral water and gave a tiny burp, "Scuse me. That was lovely. Now come here, I fancy a bit of dessert."

Piers grabbed her hand and pulled her firmly into an embrace, to which Angela submitted easily.

They kissed, gently at first, and Angela felt herself warming in her husband's arms as his kiss increased in vigour, and she felt his hands slide down her back to firmly grip her round buttocks. Her own hands did not remain idle for long. She reached up to gently hold the back of his neck as they kissed and slowly pushed her soft tongue between his lips, moaning as she did. The vibration this sent into Piers' jaw sent a tingle down his spine, as she knew it would.

His kneading of her buttocks became increasingly forceful as she allowed her free hand to travel down his body and rub the growing bulge in his trousers. In return, he released her left buttock and started to rub her crotch, causing her dress to ride up slightly at the front as the material bunched between his hand and it's increasingly warm and wet target.

Angela moaned softly once more.

Piers stood up sharply, breaking the kiss and turning her round, bent her over the breakfast bar surface. He flipped her dress up so that her buttocks, encased in thin, white cotton panties were open to his view. He paused a moment to look at the sexual delight in front of him and rubbed his finger up and down the dark patch of moisture that stained Angela's knickers.

As she felt his finger brush along her swollen pussy lips, it caused a small shudder in her loins. She closed her eyes and rested her head on her crossed arms, "Now," she whispered, "I need it now."

Piers didn't even bother to pull her knickers off, he merely held them to one side, while he unzipped his fly and struggled to release his hard prick from his trousers. Once free, he placed the head of his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed it in. He loved the feel of her tight pussy and he loved the way her hot lips opened like a flower to allow him entrance. He wallowed in the silken trap of her womanhood as every inch of his rigid cock slipped inside.

Angela gurgled deep in her throat as she felt her pussy accept him and the joy that she experienced as the bottom side of his prick slid across her hard clitoris made her almost cry out.

Once he was firmly embedded to the hilt of his thick, seven inches, Piers took a firm hold of Angela's hips and began a steady, powerful stroke. Sliding out, almost to the tip before slamming his hardness back inside again. As he thrust in and out of Angela's soaking channel, she felt the air pushed out of her, and not just with the power of his lovemaking.

No, not lovemaking. Fucking.

He was fucking her like an animal, and she loved it. As the sensations in her hot, pussy started to increase in both presence and pleasure, she found herself unable to contain her lust. She was desperate to come and she was desperate to feel Piers come inside her. She started to push back against him with each of his inward strokes, so that his groin small against her out thrust backside. She could hear him behind her grunting and his climax started to build and she felt him thrusting even harder into her boiling love hole.

The waves of heat radiating from her pussy were signalling her imminent release, and as she fought to stop her legs from buckling underneath her, through gritted teeth she snarled, "Now! Now! I'm coming.... Toffee, You're making me come... Oh God... Ogodogodogod!"

She came.

As the power of her orgasm burst, Angela's eyes opened wide, she wanted to scream with the joy that infused her, but could not, it was too much, short inward breaths were all she could manage and then even that was too much as she felt Piers stiffen and thrust his cock into her pussy to the hilt and hold it there. He gave a short cry and squirted his juice into his now, sobbing wife.

As she felt the hot fluid explode inside her, another surge of pleasure ripped through her and she was then able to scream. It was the release she needed otherwise she thought she might faint.

Slowly as their passions released them, Piers and his wife disengaged. He helped her back upright, her dress falling back to cover her, and with his now softening cock still hanging from his trousers held her close and kissed her once more.

"I love you so much Angie," he whispered.

She pushed him gently away and with a mischievous glint in her eye said, "Don't you think you get round me so easily mister. You were late home and you owe me big time!"

Puzzled, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Her delicate hand wrapped around his cock, still slick with a mixture of their juices, and replied, "Oh, I'm sure I'll think of a suitable punishment."

Then she kissed him tenderly and led him upstairs to their bedroom.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few days later, Piers arrived at his office and found Gloria waiting for him. At his curious glance, she gave him a cold smile and said, "Shut the door Toffee, we need to talk."

Then without waiting, she walked around to his chair and sat down. He pushed the door closed, turned to see her sat in his chair and said, "What are you doing?"

Again, the cold smile, "Just sitting down. In the chair that should have been mine."

Piers felt his face warm with irritation, "Just what the Hell do-" "Whoa there Toffee. You better hear what I have to say before you start getting all, what's the English expression... getting all het up, old boy."

Piers was still angry at Gloria's manner, but something about her voice and her cold, cold smile made him pause, "What? What's this news then?"

Gloria stretched out languorously, "Ah well, that's the rub isn't it. It's not news to you, it's news about you."

More puzzled than angry now, he asked, "What on Earth are you talking about? Get to the point before I have you thrown out of here."

"You nearly cost the firm millions of dollars and if it hadn't been for me you'd be in deep shit right now."

"What do you mean?"

Gloria smirked. She was enjoying this, "The Fuji-com deal. Hello? What you've been working on."

Very angry now he retorted, "Just get to the point, if you have one and then get out."

She ignored his outburst and nestled back in the chair, "The Fuji-com deal is in Nevada. It's a land deal."

Irritably he answered, "Yes, yes I know. Please will you get to the point!"

"You nearly blew it. You see, I decided that I would take an interest in you."

She paused for effect, "A very special interest. So I looked into the deal. And guess what? I found that you had fucked up Mister! The old farmstead. Remember that? Small piece of land, about an acre. But look where it is. Right in the middle of the area that Fuji-com want. And no one really knows who owns it."

"Yes, yes. I know about that. There is a claimant to the deeds, but that's unproven and unprovable. We are planning to fight a lawsuit so we can get hold of it... Is that all?"

Her grin was wider now, "No, not at all. You see they filed a motion to compel production of documents against us. You missed it and the whole deal fell through."

"WHAT? You're not making any sense! I know all about their motion. We're preparing an answer right now."

Again, Gloria paused for maximum effect. She buffed her nails against her lapel and then said, "And you're too late."

"Don't be silly. We have at least two weeks. Plenty of time."

"Toffee, Toffee. Haven't you forgotten something?"

"What?"

"The land in question is in Nevada and the motion was placed in Nevada... And we are in New York."

"So?"

"Under New York State law, you're right. We do have plenty of time. However, under Nevada State law, we don't... In fact the deadline was 5 o'clock yesterday afternoon. You missed it."

Piers eyes widened, "Oh no."

Gloria was really enjoying his discomfiture. She let the gravity of the situation sink in before she spoke again, "Or we would have been too late, if I hadn't been thinking fast. At 4.45 yesterday afternoon an interim answer was placed with the Nevada courts... by me."

His relief was both visible and audible, "Oh! Thanks Gloria, I mean it... But why all these games? Couldn't you have just told me without all this rigmarole?"

Gloria laughed out loud and then replied, "Oh no Toffee, that would have been too easy. Besides, I wanted to make a point."

Puzzled, he responded, "Point? What point?"

"That you owe me."

"Of course."

"No, you really owe me. And I intend to make you pay."

Suddenly suspicious, Piers asked, "Just what are you up to?"

Gloria ignored the question and let her eye wander round the office, from the window to the desk to the old fashioned hat stand in the corner where, even though they weren't required, Piers hung his British legal robe and wig.

"You were either incompetent and guilty of malpractice or you were acting against the interests of our client."

"It was an honest mistake," he shouted angrily.

"We-e-ell, you say that. And who am I to argue. But it's not what I think is it? It's what the old men upstairs would think," she leaned forward and rested her head on her hands as she balanced her elbows on the table and stared at him with her eyes wide open, "Great British superstar of the New York legal circles is incompetent. Shock Horror! Hold the front page! Old, established law firm's reputation tarnished. Millions in damages. Possible legal action against Piers Toffington-Smythe."

Piers was no fool. She was right, it didn't matter that he was innocent of the slurs she was raising. What mattered was what it looked like. He sagged slightly and then looked her where she still sat at his desk.

Coldly he said, "So... What do you want?"

Gloria affected a look of artful innocence, "Why Mr Toffington-Smythe! Whatever do you mean?" then more slyly, "Are you trying to bribe me? Trying to compound one felony with another?"

Piers renowned cool was beginning to desert him now, "Just cut the shit Gloria! What do you want? Money?"

She giggled, looked at him genuinely surprised and then laughed heartily, "No Toffee, nothing so crass," her laughter stopped, "I want what's mine."

She gazed slowly around the office, "I want this office and the partnership that goes with it."

"I can't do that! I'm only a junior, what the Hell do you expect me to do?"

"Simple. Work."

Piers opened his mouth, closed it again and then said, "Erm... what?" "As I said, simple. I want you to work. I want you to take half of my workload, deal with it and then let the boys upstairs see my results. And with the glowing reports, also supplied by you, it shouldn't take them too long to see what they passed over. And when I get my partnership, we can call it even."

"That's blackmail!"

"No, it's an opportunity... And I always look out for the best opportunities."

She stood up and walked to the door, as she grasped the handle she turned to him and said, "I advise you to think about my little scheme Toffee. But not for too long. I expect you to meet me for dinner at Maxi's restaurant tonight at eight o'clock with your answer. After all, what choice do you have, if you want to stay in employment and possibly out of jail?" another thought came to her, "And if that happened, who'd look after you're poor little wife... Though, actually, I know a few people who'd be more than happy to look after her for you, if you get my drift. Eight o'clock!"

Piers almost shouted, "You leave Angie out of this!"

Gloria replied coldly, "No! You leave Angie out of this. Do as you're told and she never need know. Nobody should."

After she had gone, Piers sank into his chair, put his head in his hands and stared at his desktop. She had been right of course, he had no choice. He had known that American's in the trade were known to play hard ball, but he was not prepared for the bombshell she had just dropped.

Piers could think about little else all day and was able to accomplish nothing at all of his workload. In the middle of the afternoon, he rang Angela.

"Hello, Toffington-Smythe."

"Angie, it's me."

"Oh hello Love, what do you want?"

"Look Darling, I'm terribly sorry, but something's come up. I have to meet a client for a dinner meeting."

"Oh Toffee!"

"I know, I know. I tried to get out of it, but the boys upstairs are adamant. Look, I'll make it up to you, I promise. Okay?" "Okay, I suppose. How late will you be?"

"I don't know. Hopefully it shouldn't take too long." "Okay Love. I won't wait up. Bye."

He replaced the receiver heavily. He hated lying to Angela, he had never done it before, but he didn't want her involved in this, especially after Gloria's not so veiled threats. And he knew she did know people like that. They all did. They were lawyers for Christ's sake!

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a quarter bottle of whisky and a tumbler.

After taking a stiff drink he muttered, "What a bitch!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

At five minutes past the hour, Piers arrived at the restaurant to find Gloria already sat at a table. She was dressed in a very classy cocktail dress that was low cut in the front and had a slit up the side. She sat with her long legs crossed and was showing an expanse of silky soft, white thigh.