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It is a public scandal that gives offence and it is no sin to sin in secret. - Moliere

Cathy

I am a lawyer, that is an expert in the law, at least the law says so, and that makes me familiar with the absolute injustice and inequities of the current laws. I started as a prosecutor which rubbed my nose in these wrongs on a daily basis. I was a federal prosecutor in the Eastern District of California. I've worked in all three divisions prosecuting drug crimes, 'white collar' crimes, and fraud. A lot of our work was things like tax fraud since all Americans believe they have a God given right to cheat on their taxes. There is so much cheating on taxes the IRS doesn't go after the small fry for prosecution anymore. It is the big cheats who wind up in our courtrooms. It is just the opposite for audits. The big guys have a bevy of tax attorneys fighting the IRS on everything so the IRS now audits the middle class because they fold under IRS pressure. Bank robbers were always a fun prosecution because anyone who robs a bank is stupid as well as dangerous. Banks have the most sophisticated anti-robbery systems and they don't have a lot of cash lying around anymore: too dangerous. Plus, the FBI goes after them like a religion and the crook gets 30 years in a Federal pen with no time off. Bank robbery is just dumb.

At the beginning of my career, I had to waste time prosecuting drug offenders. You ask, "Aren't drugs bad?" Yes, absolutely. Look, drugs are for losers. I can tell you every druggie I met had a big red L on their forehead; LOSER! Like any moral prohibition that gets legislated into law this one has failed. You cannot legislate people into being smart or even to be good, just like you can't bribe someone with welfare to be industrious. Losers are losers and getting their brains fried on drugs cannot be stopped by making it unlawful. They are going to do it anyway. Just like prohibition in the twenties funded and caused the organized crime families to band together in this country, so too the drug prohibition has led to organized crime on an International scale. There are few truly fundamental rules in nature. But this one is invariable. Prohibition always creates more problems than it solves. Any good prosecutor knows it is useless to legislate morals; we just lie when asked because our butts would be on the sidewalk if we told the truth.

So why did I make that career choice? I wanted to be a federal judge and prosecutor is a good path. Politics is the other path and I have put in my time on that one as well. Working in Sacramento, the state capital, put me in contact with politicians. At the time, the Democrats were running things in the state and I campaigned for them. But, and it was a big but, I saw that the winds they were a changing so the next election cycle I switched and was high up in the campaign for Ronald Reagan for governor. Did I sell my soul? Hell no! I sold my services to the highest bidder just like any good lawyer does. Well he won, twice, and I got the indebtedness of the Governor. Not long after of course he won the presidency, and I was big in his California campaign. So the first time a judgeship came open in the Ninth Circuit, whose name was on the top of the list? Humbly yours. Six years later, a spot came up on the Appellate court in Ninth Circuit and who did he pick?, little old me, Justice O'Hara. Do I feel bad about having to sell my soul for the job? No way, Jose. Politics has always been a dirty business and this was my goal. Now if I can just get lucky and get booted up to the Supremes...

Why all this preamble? Because I want to underline just how different the public perception can be from the private truth. In public, I am a fine upstanding judge, above reproach. In private?

I went to Boalt Hall, the Berkeley law school, one of the finest, by reputation in the country. While there, I did all the things you have to do to stand out, not high grades, but things like editor of the law review, clerking for a Justice in the Ninth Circuit right after graduation and politicking for a prosecutor position. While at Berkeley, I met my wife, Cathy; more about her in a minute.

During my undergraduate studies, I had a girlfriend, Lori. She was not the prettiest girl, long brunette hair, a few extra pounds, and glasses. But she had a sexual appetite that I didn't appreciate at the time. Being a studious nerd in high school, it wasn't until I got to college that I made it with girls. Due to this inexperience, I thought that all women were like Lori. Boy was I wrong. Lori loved, I mean, loved to please me sexually. And by that I mean anything I wanted. I was too callow at the time to understand, but looking back I think Lori was a natural sub and serving me sexually was how she got pleasure. All I had to do was hint. If I wanted to try a threesome, Lori asked what kind of girl and she would bring the girl home for our threesome. I mentioned anal one time as I had read a story about it and there was Lori, butt virgin, kneeling with her ass in the air and lube all over, wincing as I shoved my cock home, tears running down her cheeks but making nary a noise to disturb my pleasure. I wanted to try a virgin, Lori brought home a girl from her history class, eighteen, away from a sheltered fundamentalist Christian home for the first time, leaving her a bit at the mercy of the wolves, but curious, and my little female wolf helped me seduce her. Lori talked her out of her clothes and held her hand as I broke her cherry, then licked her sloppy pussy to an orgasm so the girl would enjoy it. And yes, the little sweetie came back for more. The threesomes with her were amazing. The girls would use me up first then proceed to get each other off for hours. Once she realized God didn't give a damn if, when, or whom she fucked and wasn't sending any lightning bolts, she made up for all the lost time caused by her zealous parents. Isn't it always the preacher's kids who are the nastiest? They know it is all hypocritical bullshit.

I wanted to try a young girl and Lori, having been a Girl Scout, joined a Girl Scout troop as an advisor. Lori talked with the girls, and being so close in age and not a mom, they opened up to her. One girl in particular, Jasmine, I still remember her name, was curious about sex. Lori encouraged her and finally told her she ought to try out sex with an experienced guy and Lori had just the guy. Lori brought her by one Saturday and we seduced little Jasmine, although it was hardly a seduction as Jasmine really did want to get her ashes hauled. I took her cherry and fucked her three times that afternoon, then Lori showed her a little Sapphic loving. What a sexual appetite Lori had and jasmine caught it from her I think. We actually had trouble convincing her that she needed to find a boyfriend more her age. She wanted to run away from home like the hippies then overwhelming San Francisco and move in with us.

Stupid me, and this shows how naïve I was, I broke up with Lori because she wasn't my physical ideal. I thought I could find girls like Lori anywhere. Then I went through a string of normal girls. Talk about disappointed... "That's dirty." "I don't do things like that." "Not me." "You're a pervert." Like I needed her to tell me that. I hit bottom with a girl who refused any oral sex, giving or receiving, and made me wear a rubber for sex and wouldn't touch it before or after, and sex only with the lights out and no touching before or after. It was like sex was a filthy perversion you do and forget about as soon as possible ... That girl broke me, which I suspect is the purpose of those centuries of teaching girls to act like that, break men's will by denying them the pleasure of unbridled sex. It is a centuries long conspiracy to strip men of their masculinity and give women all the power through controlling and doling out sex.

Horn dog me, I even tried to get Lori back but some smart fellow had already figured out what took me two more years to realize, and was engaged to her. She did give me a for-old-times mercy fuck which just made me even more certain I had fucked up. I cried in my bed as she left to go marry this jizz headed guy majoring in teaching. I could just see Lori years from now, getting this jerk's students in bed with him, "What dear, you'd like to fuck that cute little redhead in third period. Let me talk with her." Argh.

My second year in law school I got shanghaied to a party in the hills by my roommate. I usually detested parties since I knew by then I was forever to be disappointed in love as a punishment for dumping Lori. I had a beer and was wondering around the party when across the room, I saw her. I nearly lost it just looking at her. She was a gorgeous Japanese girl. I made a beeline for her and introduced myself. Her name was Cathy, always a favorite name of mine, something to do with that first lust of a blonde bimbo when I was fourteen, and I was in love. She was a student at Berkeley studying history with a goal of teaching at a college.

It was noisy, crowded, and smoky in the room so, I led her out the sliding door to the backyard which had a pool deck, looking out over the whole bay, lights glittering like diamonds in the breezy air; a night typical for summer in the bay area, cold air blowing in from the ocean. I was immediately cold. "Sorry," I said. "Looks like it's cold."

"I thought you did it on purpose, to see if my breasts were real," she said.

That caused me to look down at her tits filling her stretched knit top to perfection. Her nipples protruded in the cold air as hard as diamonds themselves. I looked back to her face to see the suppressed smile. "Got me," I said.

She laughed but didn't deny it. Cathy later told me she knew right then we were made for each other. She was able to tease me and I would get it, just a beat too late, and she's able to do that to this day. "Would you like to go back in?" I asked.

She brought her hands up and used one finger on each hand to circle her nipples, "No, I'm enjoying the evening."

I closed my gaping mouth and said, "I can see that." It was readily apparent that she wore no bra under that tight top as I could almost see the goose bumps on the areola surrounding her erect nipples.

Before you think, what a slut, Cathy would not have done this little show for just anyone. We had made this connection and we both felt it. Yeah, yeah, it was some sort of mystical claptrap that until it happens to your butt, you ain't ever going to believe it. But once it happens to you, man oh man, you know it's real. She knew she and I were going to be together and she felt comfortable teasing me this way. "Let's get out of here," I said.

"You have plans?" stating the obvious.

I nodded, not denying it for a moment, and took her hand leading her through the house. I stopped on the way and commandeered my roomies car keys telling him to stay out late. In the car we talked like old friends, no uhs or ahs or stumbles, just two people comfortably talking, not worried about saying the right thing.

Once at my place, Cathy followed me in and straight to my room. She came into my arms; no pretending this was anything other than it was:, sex. We kissed and once again, I felt this incredible connection. Soon, our clothes were flying as we undressed each other. Naked she pressed against me in a soul searing kiss, her hard nipples atop firm breasts boring into my chest, branding me with her desire as my erect cock tried to bore through her tummy and into her pussy. Cathy fell back onto my bed and I took a minute to really look at her. My God but she was beautiful; sexy and beautiful.

[Cathy]

She was perfection; her tits were firm and shapely with prominent nipples now hard and erect. Her belly was flat and taut, no extraneous fat there, her legs were toned and trim with not a drop of cellulite, her pussy was naturally trimmed with a small nest of lustrous black hair shapely without a razor being used and finally her face was round and pretty with her almond eyes lively and gleaming in the soft light.

I climbed onto the bed as she fell back pulling me over her. We kissed passionately as my hands found those perfect mounds and teased them. She was humping against me and I could feel the heat of her pussy. That drew me down between her legs until I was nearly overcome by the aroma of her arousal. Somehow, the chemical essences of each of us were aphrodisiacs to the other. My cock got even harder as I shoved my face into her pussy., and I found out later that Cathy experienced the same sort of physical reaction to me, getting wet and wanton as she breathed in the aromas of my skin.

She climaxed, crying out and pulling my face into her until I worried she would wring my head off my neck. She collapsed back onto the bed and I slid up her body until my cock caught in her notch. Like a hot knife through butter, my cock slid into her tight pussy which grabbed it and massaged it with velvety fingers all warm and greasy; it was like the best hand job, blow job, and fuck you ever had, all at once. I was banging her hard, but she kept coming back for more.

Cathy was my first Japanese girl and I have to admit, some of those horrible calumnies I heard as a kid came back. The truth is, of course, that we are all too closely related genetically for there to be any real difference in the reproductive systems of people. We are all cousins and genetic testing has proven that. I can affirm, now having tested girls, for scientific inquiry only, of all ethnic persuasions, that women the world over all suck the same, taste the same, and fuck the same. Hallelujah.

Turned out my roommate got lucky and the girl drove him back to our place. He invited her in and they must have come in right about then. As they sat in the living room, getting acquainted, meaning him trying to finish seducing her, we were making so much enthusiastic noise that she got intimidated and left. Cathy and I were banging the headboard pretty good as she was crying, "Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Yeah!" with the occasional scream and grunt thrown in. It was about then that I filled her with a week's worth of jizz, kicking her into another climax.

After a fuck like that, I knew lightning had struck twice and no way was I going to let this girl go. I made up my mind while my prick was still buried in her molten chute that I was going to marry this one. We lay together in bed and quietly talked for hours, finding out about each other, the details, since we had already connected in a deeply spiritual and physical way. Cathy was everything Lori had been but a smarter, beautiful woman as well, and biggest of all, she was my soul mate. I hate that phrase, like I was fated for Cathy. But once it happened, I swear I really did feel like it was Kismet;, we were fated to be together. I never wanted to be with another woman, I mean except for the occasional romp in the hay for recreational purposes, and that had nothing to do with the intense love I felt for Cathy.

Sex is not about procreation or love. It is strictly about recreation. As Richard Feynman said, "Science is like love making:, every once in a while, something useful comes of it, but that isn't why we are doing it." Americans have that all ass-backwards. The three western religions, Christianity, Rabbinic Judaism, and Islam all formed in the same milieu greatly influenced by a strain of sex hatred that existed in Israel in the first and second centuries BCE and CE. It burst out in the Essene groups which fostered Christianity and many of the Rabbinic authors of the Mishna, although to a lesser extent than the sex-hating Christians. Islam got this from those two religions.

The horrible thing is this sex hatred in human history is such an unusual and counter survival scheme. Anthropologists have found that 87% of human societies accepted polygamy in one form or another. Open sexuality has been the most common form of social structure in human history. We Americans are the heirs of an abnormal social tradition, sex abhorrence. It was just an atrocious accident of history that we westerners got stuck with it. Luckily for me, Cathy rejected the tradition.

Although both her parents were born in California they were both raised in traditional Japanese families. Like father like son and her father and mother were as traditional as their parents. Cathy rebelled big time, rebelled against those tight traditional strictures. Her mom and dad, whom I came to know and love, were essentially good people. Both were robbed of all of their money and property in WWII and sent to concentration camps at Manzanar.

Her dad, to get out of the concentration camp, served in the 442nd regiment, the most highly decorated army unit in WWII. They never complained about the government stealing their money and years of their life. They worked hard and built the American dream. They were truly amazing people. But they did try to rein in their freewheeling daughter and that caused her to go the other way. Cathy was a big time social rebel, traditional sex rules and roles being only one thing she rebelled against. She joined in the student rebellions Berkeley is famous for. Me, I wanted what the system could provide in money and comforts, thank you very much.

From that day we were an item, even if we were political opposites. I always thought it was stupid for both of us to go vote since we always cancelled each other's vote. We could stay home and have the same effect. There was never any doubt we were going to be married. It was accepted by both of us. The question was when. Both of us figured we would get married after I had a job and she finished her Graduate degree.

We did the usual talking about former lovers, a few for me a few more for her as it wasn't until she got away from mom and dad that she had the freedom to pursue sex as a leisure sport. When I told Cathy about Lori, she got, well, jealous isn't the right word, competitive might be better. Cathy didn't want any former girlfriend being better than she and she set out to prove it. If Lori could get a girl for a threesome, Cathy would get a stunningly beautiful girl for a threesome. She would show me who was better at getting my fantasies fulfilled. Not that I minded and it is possible that I even exaggerated the quality of girls that Lori procured just to get Cathy's juices worked up. Lori got me a virgin girl scout, Cathy did one better, she got the Law School Dean's virgin daughter. I don't know how she did it:, I was afraid to ask, but she did.

Here is another example. Like all men I have the sister fantasy. Maybe you have noticed that most of the popular American beers, meaning watered down, Bud, Coors, Miller, etc., sell their beers with suggested sex, bimbos in bikinis, to cover up the truth that their 'beer' tastes like flavored water. All of them have used twins in bikinis in their marketing at one time or another, appealing to that near universal sister fantasy. Cathy had an older sister and knew of my sister fantasy. We told each other our fantasies, even the darkest and most private. So she arranged, when her sister visited, to have Cathy and her sister sneak over when I was out and about and be in my bed, both gloriously naked and attack me when I came home from school. I have no idea how she convinced her sister to do it, but it was amazing to fulfill this fantasy. Cathy's sister sitting on my cock bouncing away as Cathy smiled and winked, rubbing my balls to make it even better.

Cathy's fantasies could be dark. Once, I had to dress up in black clothes and a ski mask and sneak into her apartment and rape her. She wanted a real rape which turned out not to be any fun for me. I had to climb up on her balcony and enter through the window. I just knew I was going to get arrested. Try explaining this to the cops; "Well you see officer, my girlfriend inside wanted me to rape her..." Cathy wanted to play real. It's no fun getting smacked while you are trying to get and keep a hardon, especially if you are wondering if she was going to play too real and knee you in the balls. It's even harder hitting a moving target with a semi soft cock bouncing around as she fought me like a wildcat. The only way a guy is ever going to rape her is to chloroform her first. Cathy had to get me some rope and help me tie her down and even then I had a hard time.

Looking back, I realize she introduced me to a lot of 'deviant' sex, at least most folks would consider it deviant, at least in public, even if they tried the same things behind that closed door. She had me tie her up and tease her until she was going crazy, then fuck her hard. Another time, I was fucking my Cathy's ass while down below, one girl was eating her pussy and I was looking at her other roomies' naked bouncing tits just inches away from my mouth while Cathy was eating her. I still remember, when we all collapsed and had recovered, one of the girls asking, "Can I be in the middle this time?" and Cathy answering like this was the most natural thing in the world, "Let's get him hard and do it now." Being Cathy's boyfriend, then husband, is a wild ride.

I had graduated and was clerking for a way liberal Justice when life happened to us. Turns out birth control pills aren't foolproof. One day Cathy's period didn't start when it should have. She called her doctor and he got her in that afternoon. After examining her, he said quit taking the pills and when she asked why, he explained it's bad for the baby. We went up to Reno for one of those five minute weddings. Both parents were pissed about missing the wedding until we explained why. Then they were pleased that they were going to be grandparents of a legitimate kid, not a bastard. Cathy finished her classes eight and a half months along. Two of her professors offered to let her take the finals early, afraid she'd have the kid in class I think. But she was a trooper and did all of the finals on time. Then she popped out our daughter, Alicia. Alicia was lucky; she took after Cathy in the looks department and not me.

Cathy went straight into a Doctoral program while I clerked and contrived for that prosecutor position. When she finished and handed in her dissertation on the under appreciation of women in history, women's studies not even a discipline yet, I got the job and we moved to Sacramento and started trying for kid number two. I wanted a boy but had to be very careful in expressing a preference. Remember those traditional parents. Well, in Japanese families boys are king. Their third kid was a boy, a young brother to two older sisters. Dad gave her mom a diamond ring for finally birthing the boy child. The two older girls felt the stigma, they were just girls. Cathy had a deep-seated and almost pathologic loathing of the boy preference. So when our second came out a girl, Marissa, I expressed nothing but joy. Marissa was a true hapa, half and half, but she wound up being beautiful even though she had my genes. There is something about those half Asian girls, something exotic and mysterious, something that just seems to take the best of both sides and produces beautiful women. It sure did for our daughters.

We found a swinger's group, actually Cathy found the group and it was made up of the elite of the Sacramento political scene. It was an unusual group as most of the members weren't married. The politicos left their wives home and I suspect most of the women who accompanied the men were professional, but if they were, they were the top of the heap: beautiful, skillful, and unreserved. Sometimes, Cathy would put on a show with one of the women just to get everyone in the mood. It got me in the mood. Years later I had guys still remembering those group meetings. I had a lot of political capital from them.

Cathy was teaching at a local college and I was working my way up the ladder at the office as well as expanding my network of politicos. I was always available to give some legal advice on Federal campaign and corruption laws and even some personal issues if I could. You have to understand that California, at the time, was the most corrupt legislature since Huey Long's Louisiana. Isn't it funny that the most corrupt politicians are the reformers working for the little guy? They know they are doing God's work so raking off the top or extorting money from businesses is justified by their calling. Sacramento made Daly's Chicago look wholesome. There was a hotel across the river from the State House, the El Rancho and every Friday the lobbyists, for their own good, were required to put on a blow-out party. Remember, all the politicos then were men. Jesse Unruh, head of the Assembly, was quoted as saying, "If you can't eat their food, drink their booze, fuck their women and still vote against their bill you don't belong in politics," and that's the way he ran the Assembly. It didn't get better. Willie Brown learned in Unruh's shadow. He once said, "If the voters wanted honest politicians, they wouldn't have voted for us." I suppose he was right that voters don't want honest politicians since the voters continued to re-elect the same sleaze bags election after election. The average voter wants a politician who steals from someone else and redistributes that money to them in the form of Government handouts. He forgets that when politicians steal, they rake off most in the bureaucracy, so everyone loses, but the bureaucrats.

We bought our first house, one with plenty of bedrooms and no commute for either of us. Cathy's commute took five minutes to work and mine was only ten minutes when the traffic was awful. In fact, Cathy would often walk to work except when it was raining.

It was a few years later when Cathy brought up the subject, would I like a son? I said all the appropriate things, a healthy child is the most important and gender doesn't matter. Cathy smiled and said, "Okay, you have placated me. Now would you like a son?" I admitted to the possibility and we started on it that night. Sex is different when it is for procreation and not recreation, not better, but different.

Nine months later we had our third daughter, Vanessa. I should have known then. First A then M and now V, there weren't enough letters in the alphabet for kid number four. Two weeks later, Cathy took me to a doc, not our regular doc. I should have suspected when she said, the recovery period will agree to mine and we can have sex together. The doc took a scalpel to my nuts, whack, no more kids. After recovery and it does take some time. It's like getting kicked in the cojones by a mule. I lay in bed for two days, the slightest movement making me groan. Cathy slept in the guest bedroom for two nights. She even apologized for dragging me to have my nuts chopped when she saw them all back and blue and swollen. I understand it is much less traumatic these days. I highly recommend it since after you heal, you get to have all the sex you want and no worry about bad consequences that last twenty years, i.e. kids.

I was resting, eyes closed, on top of the bed, my balls lying on an icepack; it was too uncomfortable to have anything covering them, when I heard Alicia say, "God Mommy, Daddy's balls look awful."

"Alicia, Daddy already feels badly. You don't need to make it worse," Cathy answered coming down the hall.

I had opened my eyes and was looking at Alicia, her eyes staring at the monstrous looking balls.

"Sorry, Daddy. They're just all black and blue and swollen."

Cathy swept into our bedroom and shooed Alicia out. "Sorry, honey," she said smiling my way.

I smiled, halfheartedly I admit, "She's right."

Alicia

I think this little story is a perfect segue into this story about our girls. It highlights several things. First, casual nudity was no big deal in our house. Alicia was not shocked to see a naked man, no big deal, the way it should be. Second, she had no compunctions about using real words for anatomy, like balls. Now, we had also made sure the girls understood manners and when to use manners. They didn't interrupt adults, they used, 'proper' language around them, they behaved in public, etc. The girls seemed to understand that our house was different than everyone else's and the rules were different. Third, our bedroom was not off limits to the girls. If they happened to come in while we were screwing, whoever had a mouth free would say we were busy and go back to what we were doing. Especially when they were young, the girls would shrug knowing they had to wait until adults weren't busy:, manners.

Alicia was of the age now where she seemed to be getting interested in what mommy and daddy did in bed. It wasn't exactly that she was spying; we didn't hide anything except Christmas presents, so there was nothing to spy. Cathy had spent time in a commune before attending Berkeley. People slept, ate, showered, crapped, and made love in common and Cathy had thrown away the irrational shame of typical Americans. She didn't want the girls to learn that shame. We made sure that all normal human activities were just that, normal. Alicia seemed to be more apt to hang around if she happened to find us screwing rather than go watch TV like when she was younger. I admit that the first time I had an audience, it affected my performance. Cathy, having lived on the commune and having experienced group everything including sex, wasn't troubled at all. She helped me through the societally induced shame. I only realized how programmed I had been when it was gone.