THIRTY TWO Ben Goldstein was a criminal lawyer—and I stress the word criminal. Smooth, slick. Gray hair combed straight back like a twentie...' gangster. Gold rimmed glasses. Clean shaven. Armani suit. Gold signet ring on little finger. A sonorous baritone voice calculated to win over any jury. ?I rarely go to trial,? Goldstein said, looking at Sarah. ?Only lawyers on TV do that. Too unpredictable. Far better to bribe the judge.? He chuckled, fiddling with a Montblanc. Slowly she curled her fingers around my shaft. She whispered she wanted to massage the muscle she had just found as she began to slowly stroke me. I was not about to stop her, it felt wonderful!! I could hear her breathing quicken, as she slowly stroked me. It was a bit strange, but I was in no way going to stop it. Then mom asked me to stand up. Nervously, I did. Standing, mom turned me to face her. My hard on was at face level where she was sitting in the tub. With a quick yank, mom shoved. More

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