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I went to Thomas, Sturdivant & Hillman straight from law school. I was not there long. However, the experience changed my life.
I had gone to a reasonably prestigious university in the Great Lakes region on a partial wrestling scholarship. I was an ok wrestler, fourth at the conference tournament at 197 lbs. my senior year. I was a better student, graduating with honors and getting into a top 15 law school in the South. Deciding I didn’t want to stay in the South, I took an associate position with Thomas, a huge “full service” law firm in the capital city of my home state.
I couldn’t help noticing one of the other young lawyers who started at Thomas with me. Vickie Stuart was about 5’7″ or 5′ 8.” Slightly wavy light brown hair framed a wonderful face with bright blue eyes, prominent cheek bones, a strong jaw, and a delectable mouth. Vickie moved with the instinctive grace of a natural athlete. The dark jacket, light blouse, and knee-length dark skirt that seemed to be the uniform of women lawyers was meant to make them look professional rather than highlighting their figures. Despite that concealing outfit, it was obvious that Vickie had at least a decent body and possibly a great one.
A few weeks after we’d started, Vickie and I were assigned to a team of lawyers handling some emergency litigation in federal court. Being the youngest on the team, Vickie and I spent most of our time researching precedents to put in the legal memoranda being filed in the case on a daily, and sometimes hourly, basis. Except for brief periods to go home and change clothes, Vickie and I were in the office constantly. Most of that time, we were working together.
Working very closely with her, I learned that Vickie was articulate, witty, and a wonderful person. Despite the very long hours and constant fatigue, Vickie was never frustrated or short-tempered. She was, simply, a pleasure to be around. During my time working with her, I found out Vickie had been a tennis player in college and had gone to another well-regarded southern law school. I also learned that Vickie had recently broken up with her law school boyfriend, who had gone to a firm in New York.
The federal court case settled after three very intensive weeks. While there had been multiple hearings, Vickie and I had not seen the inside of the courtroom. We had not met the client. We had only brief contact with the senior partner who led the team. But we had gotten to know each other very well.
I must admit that I fell hard for Vickie Stuart. She was a physically beautiful young woman, and her personality was her stronger asset. A week after the case settled, I screwed up the courage to ask her out. I was sure she would turn me down. I was startled when Vickie said, “I’d love to.”
We did the classic dinner and a movie first date. We’d spent so much time together already that it didn’t feel like a first date. It was around 11:00 p.m. when we got out of the movie. As we walked back to my car, we passed on all night drug store. “You don’t have any condoms, do you?” Vickie asked.
That question threw me enough that, instead of saying something clever, I simply answered “no.”
Vickie gave me a smile I can still picture. “You probably want to stop in there and get some,” she said.
As I’ve said, Vickie Stuart was beautiful even in her conservative office clothes. In her apartment that night, I learned she was exquisitely beautiful naked. (She still is). We kissed a lot and explored each other’s bodies. We licked and sucked for a time before Vickie opened a condom packet and unrolled the rubber over my hard dick. She lay on her back, spread her legs, and used a hand to guide me into her.
As with any new lover, it took some time for me to learn what was most stimulating for Vickie. She gave me a lot of verbal feedback which I was grateful for. Up to that night, I hadn’t thought that the physical sensations I enjoyed from sex were different with different women. However, being in Vickie felt better, a lot better, than I’d ever experienced before.
After some trial and error, I found the spot to push against that seemed most satisfying to Vickie. I stayed with that. She was very responsive. As her hips bucked against me more, I thrust harder and faster. Vickie started sucking air hard. The movement of her hips became faster and more forceful. She began a low moan that rose in pitch and volume. Her body convulsed and she made a sound I can’t describe except to say it’s the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. I came an instant later.
Vickie held me in her with her legs around my hips and her arms around my back. Between gasps of breath, we kissed. The look on her face was excited and loving. As our pulses and breathing got close to normal, Vickie said, “You just earned yourself a girlfriend.”
Vickie and I had to be discreet. In-office romances happened at Thomas, but they were frowned on. Someone, usually the woman, would be told to find another job if the senior partners found out. Vickie and I were very serious about each other, but neither of us wanted to be looking for work so soon after starting our first legal jobs.
We kept our relationship secret from everyone at the firm until the following summer. Vickie and I were assigned to an antitrust case. One aspect of the case involved reviewing tens of thousands of invoices the defendant had issued over many years. The invoices were in boxes inside disabled semi-trailers on a lot at a plant in western Virginia. Vickie and I, and one of the firm’s paralegals, were sent to Virginia in August to go through the records in the trailers. We were in Virginia for five days. We stayed in a 1960’s style motel at an exit off the interstate about five miles from the plant. It was the only place to stay in the area. Like many of that type of motel, this one had a small in-ground swimming pool between the parking lot and the rooms.
As we trudged to our rooms after our second day in the trailers, Vickie looked at the pool and said, “getting in that would feel great about now.”
“We should,” I replied.
“Sure, I brought a suit,” Vickie retorted sarcastically.
I put a hand on Vickie’s arm to slow her down and let Denise go ahead of us. When I thought Denise was out of earshot, I softly said, “this place isn’t very busy. I think we could get away without suits later.”
Vickie smiled and softly said, “good idea.”
The motel was dead by 10:00 p.m. Denise was in her room doing whatever she did. Vickie and I left Vickie’s room wearing only tee shirts and shorts. We very carefully opened the gate in the metal fence around the pool. We stood on the concrete pool deck for several minutes listening and looking around. All we heard were trucks on the interstate. Thinking we had the pool to ourselves, we stripped off and quietly got into the warm water.
We thought swimming would make too much noise. We just leaned against the pool wall at a point where the water reached Vickie’s shoulders. I guess we were too engrossed in each other because we didn’t hear a thing until we heard Denise’s voice saying, “great minds think alike.” We looked up to see Denise standing on the pool deck right where we’d left our clothes. We were busted, so we thought.
Denise was wearing a long tee shirt. I could only see bare legs below her shirt but assumed Denise had small shorts on. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off over her head. Denise wasn’t wearing shorts, or anything else. She wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful like Vickie, but Denise was an attractive woman, more so in the nude. Denise got into the water and came over to us. We talked for a while. Among other things, Denise told us she knew we’d spent the previous night together in Vickie’s room. “Don’t worry,” Denise said, “I’m not going to rat you out.” Smiling at Vickie, she added, “I just wish I’d been able to bring more than my Hitachi to keep me company.”
The three of us skinny dipped the remaining two nights we were in Virginia and Denise became a friend. Back at home, Vickie and I started having dinner periodically with Denise and her boyfriend Jeff. Jeff was a decent guy who’d played hockey at The State University in town and now worked for our city’s NHL team.
A couple of months after our trip to Virginia, Denise asked Vickie and me to have lunch with her one Thursday. It seemed a little odd that she made a point of going to a place several blocks from the office. We walked past a dozen or so restaurants on route.
Once we had our food and were seated, Denise said, “I asked you to lunch because I want to suggest something to you. Let me say upfront, I won’t be offended at all if you don’t want to do this.”
“What is it? Drowning cats?” Vickie asked jokingly.
“Jeff and I belong to a private club,” Denise said. “It’s sort of a spa, with pools, hot tubs, and saunas but it also has a bar and a restaurant. It’s really very nice. We’re going Saturday night and would like the two of you to come with us.”
“Sounds great. Sure,” Vickie said.
“Hold on,” Denise said, “there’s something else you need to know first, and I’d really appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well,” Denise took a deep breath, “it’s a nude club. Only the staff wear clothes. The members and their guests are prohibited from wearing anything except shower shoes on your feet.”
Vickie and I were both surprised. We didn’t say anything for a moment. “Since you went skinny dipping when we were in Virginia,” Denise said defensively, “I thought you might enjoy it. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”