Latest Forum Posts:


Legal Intrigue - Part Two

Contributing Authors: Milik_the_Red 
A judge and a Crown Prosecutor must resolve a difficult dilmemma - and conduct a trial.
It was my privilege to write this story with the talented Milik Redman. It is the second part of a story of a judge and a Crown Prosecutor who face an ethical issue in the context of a precedent making trial. Their choices will have lasting impact on their lives and careers.

Philippe Rannou took a deep breath before opening the door to his court. An unfamiliar turmoil had unsettled him and the dispassionate calm he usually felt before hearing a case was gone. It was a personal conflict. The issues of law in the case were complicated and probably precedent setting, whatever his ultimate decision. No, all of that he was well equipped to deal with. What he could not control was the much more personal and professional dilemma of his relationship with the Crown Prosecutor, Evelyn Monroe, as she was assigned to this case.

This was an obvious conflict of interest and against the rules of professional conduct to which each of them had an obligation to adhere. There was an emotional history between them deep and unspoken that had begun ten years earlier when she was a law student. They had not crossed the thin ethical line between them then.

That had changed when she moved to Toronto and was assigned to his district. She had been in touch and he had met her to wish her well and tell her he was proud that he had taught her. The rest was now an ethical dilemma. Each had felt the old pull to the other as they talked and laughed over that meal. They saw each other again and, at long last, made love. It was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, and the worst.

If they carried on during this criminal trial and it became known, it could end both of their careers. Each had said that they would remove themselves from the trial. Each also knew that the case was an important one, one that would be analyzed by legal scholars and in the precedent books that law students studied. Neither wanted to deprive the other of that - an impasse. No decision had been made perhaps because it was irrevocable and would be life changing.

Philippe was a man devoted to the law and the professional ethics practised as a lawyer and as a judge. Any perception of bias was to be avoided if the process was to remain a fair one, and that was the basis for the whole system. How could he be dithering about this? He wanted to find a graceful resolution that would not impact Evelyn’s career, and, if he were honest with himself, one that would not spoil his future chances to sit on a higher court. The lawyers would present their cases today. Maybe he could finesse just one more day.

He opened the door and climbed to his seat. The courtroom was immediately quiet but for the sound of everyone shuffling to their feet as it was called to order. He bade them all good morning and everyone sat. Both the prosecution and the defence indicated that they were ready. The defendant, Michelle Du Bois, was accused of producing and disseminating pornography, child pornography in fact. She was in her mid-twenties and had had an affair with a younger man, seventeen at the time.The law stated that images of anyone under the age of eighteen was child pornography, despite sixteen being the age of consent for sex. In engaging in cybersex and exchanging those images, she was alleged to have broken the law.

The internet and social media had changed the way people communicate, but many would say that the law had not yet caught up. The impact of this case would be felt far from the individuals involved. Reporters and writers from near and far away crowded the courtroom, present to record not just the findings of the court on the legal issues, but frankly because of the titillating nature of the facts of the case. To say that it was a high profile trial was an understatement.

Philippe inquired whether counsel had any motions and were ready to present their cases. They were no motions and they were prepared to begin. The jury was brought in.

Evelyn waited for them to settle. She was well aware of the reputation of opposing counsel but would not change her tactics because of it. She would be logical and rational and reasoned, building her case brick by brick until there was no conclusion to draw from the evidence and testimony but that the accused was guilty. She was in command of the law and the facts and the evidence, comfortable speaking without referring to her notes except to read pertinent excerpts of documents to the jurors. This was not her first trial and she knew that she could connect with the jurors, and their common sense and decency. She was confident that she would leave them no alternative but a guilty verdict, Jackson or no Jackson and his theatrics.

Evelyn then stood and outlined the facts of the case and the section of the Criminal Code that applied. She spoke slowly and deliberately as she explained the law by translating it to everyday language that would be easily understood by all. A talent she developed as a prosecutor was an ability to break things down in a manner that was not condescending, but provided clarity without legal jargon that confounds most people.

Evelyn stated that she understood that times have changed and that the internet had impacted many areas of life now. However, she emphasized that they were not there to rewrite the Criminal Code or question its current legitimacy. That was their prerogative as voters in the political process through their Members of Parliament - not as jurors in the criminal justice system. Their task was rather to determine whether the defendant had indeed committed the crime that the Code set out - the law as it stood that day.

She said that she would describe what had transpired between the defendant and the victim and that there would be no question that all of the elements of the transgression were present. Evelyn stated that there was no doubt that the defendant was guilty of the crime alleged: she had produced and disseminated child pornography as it was defined by the law. Evidence would be presented to confirm this including emails and texts back and forth between the couple and more graphic images and video they had exchanged.

She continued by cataloguing the months of messages, quoting some of the contents as she went on. She told the jury about graphic nature of the images and videos that the accused had produced - worthy of some amateur porn site in their detailed sexuality. There was no question of the nature of their relationship and that the accused had been the aggressor in it. The emails and texts went from romantic to salacious to pornographic and beyond. The prim Miss Du Bois now seated in the court bore no resemblance to the woman writing the emails or in the images that were in evidence.

Christian Amadour, young and inexperienced by comparison, was at the time flattered and turned on by this attention. What seventeen-year-old young man with raging hormones would not be? He thought he was getting a masters class in sex and was more than delighted to be the “toy boy” of the accused. He never said “no” to her, complied with her every wish and demand: images, phone sex, sexting, cybersex, and even sex the old-fashioned way, up close and personal.

There may not have been a teacher-student or other such trust relationship between them on its face, but there was no question that the accused had power over the victim and used it. She was a sexual predator. The victim consented to their sexual relationship, but now regarded himself as having been used by her. He was too young to make an informed decision about their activity both according to the law and with his hindsight. The jury was rapt and several were taking notes as she spoke. That was a good sign.

Evelyn thanked the jury for their attention and sat down. She felt strangely calm and exhilarated at the same time. Calm because she had laid everything out for the jury in a fashion that was comprehensive, understandable, and irrefutable based on the facts and the evidence. Exhilarated because of the adrenalin rush that came with this high wire act and bringing off the first part without a hitch. There was no net to catch her if she fell.

As Evelyn finished her opening statement, Jackson Richards made a show of flipping through his briefs as if he were reading the morning news. To the casual onlooker, he seemed totally unconcerned, or even a bit amused by the facts as laid out by the Crown. Even after she returned to her seat he remained silent and detached. This was simply a front. The Crown’s case was airtight, and he silently despaired at how concisely the Prosecutor had covered the facts. That wouldn't help his case, but it did give him a foil to display his talents.

The Court hung in silence for a long moment while Jackson let the drama build. Then, once he was sure that all eyes were upon him, he turned to Miss Du Bois and smiled.

Jackson knew the evidence was overwhelming, but in his experience, many such cases had still been lost to nothing more than a sympathetic defendant and dirt being thrown in the air. This dirt was his speciality.

He was a very large man, as tall as Philippe and a good twenty kilos heavier. Without speaking a single word he seemed to take command the court as he slowly rose from his chair. Casually brushing invisible creases from his black robe, he appeared totally at ease. It seemed as if the entire courtroom was holding its collective breath. To him, the act was as important as the facts he would lay out, more so in this case in fact, as he really had no facts to help him.

His father, an old country lawyer, had once told him that facts meant less than perception. It was a lesson that Jackson intended to use here. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he began, "What you have just heard from the Crown is the truth!" His deep baritone voice boomed out of his barrel chest and shocked the jury with its force as much as with this admission.

He waited a brief moment to let the implications of his words sink in, and then with a dramatic flourish, he raised a single finger in the air and continued on in his distinctly Southern drawl.

"However, it is a truth that paints a wicked falsehood of perception and a travesty of justice on the reputation and character of my client, Miss Michelle Du Bois! You see, ladies and gentlemen, the Crown Prosecutor would have you convict this young woman of a crime based only on the evidence that was found in a cold and lifeless machine, while completely disregarding the infinitely more important query of why!"

Jackson slowly walked as he spoke, letting his gaze fall on each member of the jury as if speaking directly to each one. "Why would the Crown do that?"

He turned again, this time looking directly at Evelyn, and he raised a rebuking hand toward her as if she at some unspeakable evil. "A better question might be why is this case being heard at all? Beyond the causing of the obvious hurt and embarrassment to my client! Why indeed?"

He then lowered his hand and with a flourish, drew a white kerchief from his inner breast pocket, "I, of course, mean no disrespect to this remarkable young lady. She has a job to do and we cannot hold her responsible for that, no matter the injustice wrought by its execution!" He bowed slightly in deference to her, but his tone reeked of mocking belittlement.

Jackson turned on his heel and strode toward the jury, beaming with an almost righteous confidence. "You see, what the Crown won't tell you is that the images she will show you of this fine young man were made as an act of love and passion, rather than for the base need to possess some pornography!" His voice trailed off and he lowered his head as if he were lost in deep contemplation.

Then, turning toward his client, he spread his arms in a symbolic effort to draw in the entire room. "I say that such an erroneous and unjustified accusation against Miss Du Bois’ fine character is vile and abhorrent! Mr. Amadour was, at the time, old enough under the law to share his mind and body intimately with Miss Du Bois, so how can it be just that she be tried for nothing more than viewing him in that same light?"

From the bench, Philippe watched dispassionately as the defence rambled on. He generally tried not to intervene in the opening statements and he watched silently as Jackson continued on with his verbal assault on logic. This last point was clearly the linchpin of his defense and Philippe grimaced at its limited legal value. It was an argument made to sway public opinion, but flew in defiance of the law. The more the man went on the more his argument leapt from solid facts into a roiling sea of melodrama. It was becoming a farce and Philippe was coming dangerously close to cutting him off.

He had of course heard of Jackson's reputation for being a loose cannon in the courtroom, but even those rumors had truly not done him justice. The man's pompous antics and lack of respect for the seriousness of the issue were already beginning to wear thin. He was like a caricature, a living flashback to a different time and place, and Philippe was one of those who thought it an inappropriate display for a Canadian courtroom and jury.

Philippe noticed the time and decided to call a break in the proceedings for lunch. He would decide how to deal with defence counsel and perhaps gain some perspective with some time and food in him. He had larger issues to ponder - Jackson was the least of it. When Jackson finally had to pause for a moment, Philippe took his opportunity. The courtroom cleared quickly and he made his way to his office, intending to send his assistant to get him some lunch.

As he walked down the corridor, he noticed that Ben Silverman’s office door was open. He decided to stop for a moment and leaned in from the doorway to say “hello”. Ben motioned for him to come in and sit.

Ben was just a little older than Philippe. He was from Winnipeg and still had the common touch and values of those who had not been reared in Toronto or Montreal or Vancouver. He had been educated in Canada and his brilliant record had given him a scholarship to Harvard Law School. He had clerked for a Supreme Court Justice for his articling year.

Ben was a thinker and philosopher and applied that to his cases in tandem with the good sense learned in his life. His ability to take a legal problem apart seemed to be rooted as much in the tradition of Talmudic scholars as legal giants of Canadian and other jurisprudence. He was tall, with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes that danced with insight and humour. Ben looked up from his desk over his half glasses and said, “What is going on with you, Philippe? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. It can’t be the case you have now. If anyone can deal with it, it is you.”

Philippe made himself comfortable and sighed deeply. He knew that he wanted to talk to his friend about what was troubling him, but then Ben would be put in a position of having to report what he was told. He would outline the problem as a hypothetical question. Just like first year law school. Ben would surely understand that the issue was real, but a “legal fiction”. Philippe needed his counsel and support.

“Ben, there is something bothering me. Let’s discuss it without naming names, as a what if kind of question, okay?”

Ben nodded his assent and wondered what situation could have impacted Philippe to this extent. He decided to say nothing and let Philippe talk.

“Let us imagine that there is a judge who has always lived his professional life scrupulously, from law student to defence counsel to the bench. He has been careful to avoid any people, places or situations that could be perceived as putting him in a conflict of interest. Then, suddenly, there is a coup de foudre when he encounters a woman he knew some years before. There had been an attraction between them, not acted upon, but now the thunderbolt struck. He has been seeing her and they were getting more involved. He thinks that he is in love with her.”

Ben was paying close attention to what was being said as well as what was being omitted. His mind was working in overdrive and he realized what was coming before Philippe uttered the words. “I would say he was a lucky man, but I sense there is a problem with this romance,” he said. He looked searchingly at his friend and saw the torment there. “Please tell me more,” he added.

Philippe continued. “This judge now finds himself presiding over a case where this woman is one of the lawyers. He knows with every fiber of his being that he should not do this and that it imperils his career and hers. She knows it as well. The case will be a precedent setting one and will bring everyone involved to the attention of the legal community not just in Canada but also in every common law jurisdiction in the world. Somehow he cannot find the strength to walk away from the case or the woman. He wants both. What should he do?”

Ben took a moment before responding. He knew what was at stake. “Philippe, you know the answer. You are a man of principle and integrity. You know that a judge cannot preside over a proceeding where there is any possibility of a perception of bias. It is not actual bias that is necessary for the judge to remove himself, just the possible perception of it.”

He went on. “I think this judge in your story does not realize that his choice is not the woman that he loves or the case that he wants. If he does not make the ethical decision that he should, he may end up with neither. Both careers would be ruined and they would not be able to sustain a loving relationship after that. The price would be one that was too high. There would always be resentment and recriminations underlying whatever they had managed to salvage from this.”

Philippe had not thought about the endgame if this carried on. Not only could he lose his career and implicate Evelyn’s as well, but he could lose her over this if he did not do the right thing for both of them and any chance of a future they had together. He suddenly felt eased. He looked at Ben with some relief and said, “As always, you are a wise man. Thank God you are my friend. I think that the judge needs to understand the possible consequences of this.”

Ben could feel that the tension had left Philippe, and that he knew what he had to do now. He looked at him and said, “You look like hell. Go get something to eat and drink before you have to return to court.”

Philippe smiled and left Ben’s office to eat and figure out how he was going to announce his recusal when court reconvened.


"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Jackson. I was offered time served and probation. Are you really that sure you can win this?" Michelle Du Bois fidgeted in her chair as if it had become hot to the touch. "Seriously, this is my life were playing with here! I don't care about the precedent or whether or not people will think it fair! I can't go to jail over this! I just can't!"

Jackson Richards watched as she quickly rose from her chair and began pacing once again. "Now Miss Du Bois, just relax and please sit down. This is a complicated issue with many layers. Surely a jury will see the innocence of your intent once I explain it to them in terms they can understand."

"I believed that before, but you heard the prosecution. She said it isn't about my intent, it's how the law reads, and we both know what was on my computer." She crossed the room to the window and separated the blinds with her fingers. She stared out into the street below for a long moment and the a cold sigh issued from deep inside her and her voice wavered as she resisted the urge to cry.

Those files were intensely personal and the thought that they would be displayed was becoming very real to her. Movie files of Christian masturbating as he watched her strip on her webcam and images of him gazing at her in lustful glee as she plunged her vibrator into her pussy or ass. The sounds of her own voice encouraging him on or moaning as she reached orgasm.

She shared some of her darkest fantasies with the boy and often squealed like a schoolgirl as he ran his hand over his lubed up cock and sprayed his semen over his chest. The things she said and offered to do, or let him do to her were meant to be private and would be painfully humiliating for her to see exposed in open court.

"She's going to show it all to them, isn't she, Jackson? Oh my God, I don't know if I can take that without losing my mind!" Tears began running down her face, running the fine lines of her mascara into a muddy dye that made dark streaks down over the flawless skin of her cheeks. "You have to promise me you will win this, Jackson. Promise me! I can't go to prison for this! Can you imagine what would happen to me there?"

"Oh, now don't you worry about all of that, Miss Du Bois. You just need to keep calm and trust me. I know what I'm doing. Now, why don't you go and get yourself cleaned up before we return to court. I'll take care of everything."

"Alright, I trust you, but please don't mess this up. I'm begging you, don't let me go to jail!"

Jackson kept his carefully crafted look of calm confidence in place as he guided her into the restroom, but once the door closed the thin veneer melted away like wax under the Georgia sun. The truth was his chances of winning were slim at best and he knew he should have accepted the plea deal. He had refused because the spotlight was something he always craved. Now he had to decide if stroking his vanity was worth letting that poor woman go to prison. "I wonder what Daddy would say about all of this," he mused.


Michelle Du Bois entered the washroom just as Evelyn was leaving it. Evelyn ran out as if on a mission, hardly noticing the woman who was the accused in the case. Evelyn realized that nothing had happened yet that impacted on her professional conduct or that of Philippe. He was the man she loved, the one with whom she was more and more deeply involved. Theirs was a relationship built on both intellect and sex. There was no running away from this now. When court resumed, something would have to be one. Either she or Philippe would have to remove themself, and, as she was the one with less to lose, she thought it should be her.

Philippe was a brilliant jurist, admired and esteemed by all in the profession. She remembered being in awe of him when he taught and mentored her at law school, and that admiration had only increased over time as she knew him better and ultimately fell in love with him. Philippe deserved the seat on the Court of Appeals that all of the legal community was speculating would be his soon. From there, she had no doubt that he would one day sit on the Supreme Court of Canada. There was, however, something she had to figure out. How could she ask for permission to be excused from the case in court without revealing to the whole world why she wanted to do it. Evelyn did not want to destroy Philippe’s future and reputation in her effort to save it.

Would “personal and extenuating circumstances” be accepted by the court as the cause of her going? Philippe was of course the person who knew exactly why she was doing this, but would he feel obliged to question her further as judges often did in such a situation. She had to find words to remove herself from the record without any of the details that would embarrass both of them. Surely Philippe would accept her request and understand why she was doing it. If there was negative fallout from this, she wanted to spare him. This was not entirely selfless, but it was an act of love.

She wanted to build a life with this man and that life could not withstand such an affront to the standards of conduct of the profession they both held dear. Maybe if she was lucky she would do the right thing and do it in a way that preserved her dignity and, more importantly, Philippe’s. Her mind was now made up. She would approach the bench as soon as court reconvened. Making the decision eased her conscience and she felt lighter and more relaxed than she had been in days. Now if she could just maintain her composure as she resolved to get through it.


Jackson checked the antique pocket watch his father had given him. It was a family heirloom inlaid with gold. It had been given to his great grandfather as a gift many years ago when he retired as distinguished lawyer back home. Practising law had become a family tradition and above all else Jackson Richards always strove to honor that tradition.

In those times oratory and clever arguments carried an immense weight in the courtroom. He had grown up hearing the brilliant speeches made by his father. He had built his career on the same style, but now he secretly felt that time was moving past such theatrical defenses.

The thought that he might be a legal dinosaur made him angry. He was brought up to believe that being persuasive was as important as the facts, but in this case he began to doubt even he could pull it off. Oh, he could rail on about the injustice of the law itself. In point of fact, he was sure the law would itself be indicted. He laughed at that thought. That was the trial he should be arguing.

Miss Du Bois had been right about one thing though. He was risking her future to make a point, and perhaps to enhance his own reputation when he could probably just as effectively get a deal that would keep her out of jail. She would have to plead guilty of course. The conundrum he faced was, which would be worse?

"Twenty more minutes," he said. "Just enough time to call Dad." He pulled out his cell phone and, as the ring back tone sounded, he had the very empty feeling that he already knew what the old man was going to say.


Evelyn checked the time on her phone and then flicked the button, darkening the screen. The simple action felt strangely metaphorical to her, as if she were shutting off something much more important than a phone's display. Her stomach fluttered with nerves and the normal laser-like focus she felt before a trial was nowhere to be found. “Damn,” she thought. “I don't have any other choice, do I?”

In just a few minutes she would return to Philippe's court and request to be removed from the case for personal reasons. She was keenly aware that such an action would raise eyebrows and cast doubt among those who watched that she was truly ready for a high profile case. It would be a severe blow to her career.

While that was a bitter thought, what really bothered her was what would happen when she and Philippe finally did go public with their relationship. No matter how well they kept up appearances, there would no doubt be those who would look back to this trial and wonder if something truly unethical had transpired. Far worse, she believed, would be if that doubt were cast on Philippe. Evelyn firmly believed he would achieve great things and she couldn't bear the idea that her love for him might cost him that destiny.

She sighed nervously and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. At least by stepping down, she would have a clear conscience in the knowledge that in the end, she had done the right thing. Beyond that she could only hope that fate would treat them both with kindness.

With five minutes to spare, Evelyn gathered her files and was about to rise from her desk when she heard a soft knock on her door. She had little time, but the sudden interruption had given her something to focus on on she felt her nerves actually calm as she responded to the knock. "Come in."

Evelyn rose from her chair and the man who entered was quite literally the last person she expected to see. "Jackson, this is a surprise. You do realize that we are due back in court?"

The defence attorney closed the door behind him but remained standing. "Yes I do, and I must apologize for my timing. I took the liberty of sending my aide to inform the judge that we will be late. I assure you I will take full responsibility for the delay."

Evelyn immediately noted that his normal boisterous tone and supremely arrogant bearing were missing. The man standing in her office now seemed tired and drained of his normal fire. It was clear that something drastic had happened and her annoyance was replaced with an honest concern. She gestured for him to sit. "I can see that this must be important, so what can I do for you?"'

Jackson stared down at his clenched hands and took a breath, struggling to find the right words. Finally he looked up and smiled apologetically. "Ms. Monroe, I was brought up in a family of lawyers who believed that one should always be willing to fight the good fight, and that belief has been the foundation from which my career has been built."

Evelyn nodded thoughtfully. "That is an honorable philosophy, but surely you must know that one has to temper it with doing what is best for your client? Are you sure that the 'good fight' is worth seeing Miss Du Bois be incarcerated? Because I assure you, that is what will happen if this case goes forward."

Jackson smiled ruefully and nodded. "As it happens, I just spoke to my Daddy and he agrees with you, although he was rather more blunt. His exact words were “Stop being a pompous ass and get the best deal you can for that poor girl.” Jackson shook his head, both amused and ashamed at how this had played out.

"So, my client will accept a guilty plea if the sentence is suspended. I will agree to a reasonable period of probation and any other conditions that are warranted. I am asking you to forgive my personal behavior. I humbly ask that you separate whatever feelings you may have for me from your decision. I may be flamboyant and arrogant, but my client doesn't deserve to be made a victim because of it."

They went back into court together and approached the bench when Philippe began the proceedings. Instead of removing herself from the record as she planned, Evelyn presented the plea bargain that had been worked out. Philippe had to be satisfied that the deal served justice. The fact that it resolved the conflict he and Evelyn were in was not a factor in the decision, but a cause for more than a sigh of relief. Philippe saw no reason for the accused to languish in prison. He suspended Miss Du Bois’ sentence and placed her on probation for five years. The conditions were not onerous, but he did advise her to be more circumspect in her interaction with young men. He silently hoped that this anomaly in the law would be addressed now in Parliament because of the public debate that this case had engendered.

The courtroom was abuzz - it was over. The media rushed to make their reports. Philippe left the room as counsel gathered their materials. Jackson gave his client a bear hug and prepared himself to give a statement on the steps outside the building - some things had to remain the same. Evelyn just sat quietly for a moment taking in everything that had happened. She walked out of the building and felt the sun on her face. “Sometimes things really do work out,” she thought, “And thank God for that.”


Some time later Ben Silverman stood from his chair at the head of the table and lifted his glass. He tapped it with his spoon several times and the chiming warble from the crystal carried above the din of the assembled guests: judges, lawyers and their partners. Once he had the attention of those at the table, he raised his glass higher. "I would like to propose a toast to the Honourable Philippe Rannou and Crown Prosecutor Evelyn Monroe. It isn't often that two people can build a strong relationship in our profession, then again, one cannot predict when or how love will choose to bloom."

The chorus of agreement and applause rose and the smiling guests joined Ben in congratulations for the couple. Ben waited for a moment and then continued. “Evelyn, I was delighted that you were able to rein in Jackson Richards’ ego long enough to strike a deal. Ending that sideshow of a case protected the integrity of the law and denied the media from making it a mockery." This too elicited applause and Ben held up his hand, begging for patience as he finished his toast.

"To that point Philippe, you were given a case that might have sent a shockwave through the justice system. You ensured that this ended in your court. Faced with a dilemma of law and justice with titillating facts, you managed to keep it from becoming a circus. The politicians will now have to deal with the issues this case spotlighted.”

Philippe raised his glass, understanding the unspoken message and simply said, “Thank you, Ben, for everything.” He felt Evelyn's hand slide over his and he turned to her, touched and gratified by the warmth of her smile. For appearances’ sake, they had chosen to remain apart for the previous couple of months and he had felt terribly neglectful of her affection for him. He knew he was being silly, and that it had been as difficult for him as it had been for her, but he was still an old fashioned man. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that a true gentlemen just did not ignore the woman he loved.

Thankfully that charade was behind them. It may have been a necessary ruse, but it was still dishonest. That was a feeling he never wanted to in his life with Evelyn, and he was inwardly grateful that the Du Bois case had been resolved without leaving chaos in its wake. All he wanted to do now was take Evelyn home and make love to her.


As Philippe and Evelyn ascended the flagstone steps leading to his home, the joy he'd been feeling all evening began to warm into budding excitement. The first, and up until tonight, only time that they had made love had been a whirlwind of long suppressed desire that had caught both of them in its fury. It was a magical moment and they had given in to it without forethought or concern for where it might lead them. They had behaved like twenty-year-olds and while it had been glorious in its spontaneity, it had almost destroyed their careers.

This time was different. This time the slow, hand-in-hand walk towards his front door held no surprises. They were going to make love. This was not by spoken agreement, but destined nonetheless. The stress and heartache of the case had taken too great a toll on their emotions and the need to feel each others love was as tangible as the stone beneath their feet.

Philippe watched as Evelyn's gaze roamed over the manicured grounds of his home. She possessed an ethereal beauty and he was delighted by the soft, almost timid smile that she had been wearing since they had left Ben's party. The casual conversation that had flowed so easily between them all night had waned to the point of baited silence as they drew near his home. Now that they had arrived, such small talk became uncomfortably out of place.

When they paused at the door, Philippe felt a small tremble pass through him as he fumbled with his key. It was a small but telling moment, a clumsiness brought on by the flush of longing and desire that pushed away the analytical part of his mind.

Evelyn had a way of doing this to him. A subtlest of glances or the hint of a suppressed smile would touch him in the deepest of places, as if his mantle of maturity were merely a gossamer veil. He simply melted in her presence, reduced to the emotionally charged nature of a schoolboy. It was a joyous feeling, but one that he was yet to fully understand. “Perhaps this is what it is to be truly in love,” he thought.

A blush of embarrassment colored his cheeks as he finally retrieved the recalcitrant key from his pocket. Smiling sheepishly, he slipped it into the lock. With a quick turn of his wrist, the bolt slid silently back and Philippe opened a door that led not merely into his home, but also into what he knew would be one of the most profound moments of his life.

He turned to invite her to enter and at that moment the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, revealing a sparkle in her eyes that spoke more eloquently of her feelings than words could have expressed. His flustered nerves suddenly settled and a feeling of serenity took its place. His heart still beat hard in his chest, but the tempest in his body was calmed by the same mysterious spark of attraction that he had first felt so long ago. He took her hand in his and together they passed the doorway to the next and happiest chapter of his life.

Evelyn passed into the foyer, happy and secure as she walked at his side. In Philippe she saw a man of incredible depth, dashing in his own way. He was pleasantly tall and supremely confident and yet she often caught glimpses of a vulnerability that she doubted he ever allowed others see.

"May I?" he said softly as he removed her wrap and goosebumps rose on her skin as his warm hand lightly brushed her shoulder.

"Of course, Philippe. Thank you," she responded as she took in the surroundings. It was rich, distinguished, and had a masculine feel. Evelyn was impressed that he had taken such care in the interior design of his home.

Momentarily distracted, Evelyn didn't hear him come up behind her. When she felt his hands softly caress her arms, she shivered at the welcome if unexpected contact. He kissed her shoulder tenderly and she leaned back into his chest, sighing in contentment. "Mmm, that feels nice."

"I have a wonderful Spanish sherry. Would you care for a glass?" His voice came in a low whisper and its deep timbre combined with his touch caused her pulse to race.

"Oh, thank you, but no, Philippe. I think I've already had plenty to drink tonight. Oh my."

The soft humour in her response turned to something more sensuous as she felt his lips brush the nape of her neck. When his powerful arms encircled her waist she tilted her head in invitation to his kiss. His mouth found hers as they shared the moment. She slowly turned in his arms until they were face to face. His kiss was gentle at first, but became more heated and passionate. Soon she felt the warmth of his tongue touching hers, beginning a dance of breathless desire.

His touch became harder and more insistent and she responded by running her fingers through his thick salt and pepper hair. With gentle insistence, his lips sucked softly on hers and she felt the delicious rush of her arousal begin. When their lips parted, they both knew the wait had ended. He took her hand and she followed him down the hall toward his bedroom.

Kissing Evelyn had lit a fire in Philippe. He could barely contain the urge to scoop her into his arms and carry her to his bed. When they entered his room, he again took her into his arms. They kissed again and he began lowering the zipper on the back of her dress. She lowered her arms, allowing the blue chiffon dress to slide down to the floor.

"You are so beautiful cherie. I feel like I’m in a dream. A dream I fear I will wake from and find that I have only conjured a cherished memory." He drew his touch up her bare flanks and the back of his hand over the porcelain perfection of her cheek. "I know how silly that must sound."

Evelyn took his hand in hers and held it against her cheek, nuzzling it softly. "You are a very romantic man, Philippe. It's one of the things I love about you." She then guided his hand down her body until it came to rest over the firm rise of her breast. "You see, Philippe, I'm really here."

Evelyn rose up onto her toes and then kissed him tenderly. "I'm here with you, and I want you to make love to me." Still holding his hand against her breast, her eyes looked into his and she smiled serenely as she luxuriated in his tender touch.

Philippe watched in wonderment as Evelyn's body began to respond to him. He could feel the hardening nub of her nipple pressing against the lace under his palm as he rubbed it gently. His other hand flowed down her side and came to rest on her hip.

The sight of her deep cleavage disappearing under the black lace of her demi-bra made his blood run hot. The pillowy flesh of her breast felt warm under his hand. Evelyn seemed lost in his touch and the moment hung in time as her beauty wove its magic on him.

When Evelyn finally stepped back, Philippe felt his breath catch in his throat. Her black lace bra was sexy enough by itself. Seeing her body clad in matching lace panties with a black garters supporting her thigh high stockings filled him with desire. "Mon dieu, cherie, you are absolutely stunning."

Evelyn playfully pirouetted in front of him. "I thought you would appreciate it. I can’t tell you how hard it was to wear this while I sat next to you all night. I've been dying to know what you would think."

Philippe untied his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt while Evelyn playfully modeled her lingerie for him. The black lace seemed to embrace her body and accentuated the healthy glow of her pale skin. "I love the way it looks on you. I always thought you were as beautiful as an angel, but now I see you've a bit of bad girl in you as well."

"Oh? Does that excite you, Philippe? Do you want me to be naughty for you?" She smiled at him with a playful wickedness and stepped close to help him remove his shirt. Her hands smoothed over his chest and she flicked at his nipples with her thumbs. "I'll show you how naughty I can be."

There was a lust in her eyes that Philippe had never seen before and he held his breath as she began kissing her way down his abdomen. When she sank to her knees and began to unbuckle his belt, he swallowed hard. "Oh my god, Evelyn, I, ah, think I'm going to enjoy you being naughty."

Evelyn pulled his belt open and then unbuttoned his slacks. "I may be very proper in public, Philippe," she paused while she slowly drew his zipper down over the bulging mound of his cock and then slipped her hand through the fly in his boxers. "But in private, I think it acceptable for me to be just a little bit the tramp. Don't you agree?"

"Wholeheartedly, cherie. I, ah, don't believe it would be improper at all." By the time he finished speaking, Evelyn had taken his cock in her small hands and drew his length out into the light. She settled comfortably at his feet and brought her mouth close to his now rampant erection.

"Mmm, let’s see how bad a girl I can be then." She kissed the soft head and then slid it into her mouth, bathing it in succulent wetness.

Philippe gritted his teeth as he gazed down at her. She moved slowly over his glans, swirling her tongue over him in a way that made his knees feel weak. Up and down she moved, dragging her moist lips over his taut skin until his hips began moving in time with her motions. Philippe held his hands behind his back, wanting nothing more than to enjoy her gift.

His body trembled at her touch, but his mind filled itself with the alluring image of Evelyn kneeling before him. Her body moved with a feline grace that mesmerized him and the lingerie added a sensual quality that would have been lessened had she been completely nude.

Evelyn's eyes traveled up his body as she took him as deeply into her mouth as she was able. When she pulled back, she smiled and cupped his scrotum in her hand. "What do you think, Philippe? Is this naughty enough for you?"

"Oh yes, ma cherie. It’s wonderful."

Evelyn heard his French-Canadian accent thickening as he spoke and felt a rush of desire. She had noticed this in him before and had come to realize that it was a response to his heightened state of arousal. This “tell” that he was being turned on pleased her tremendously and she bent to his turgid penis again.

She tugged his pants down as she kissed and licked his shaft and then gently caressed his thighs as she sucked harder. His muscles twitched as he steadied himself, but she did not yet sense the flexing and uncontrollable need to thrust that signalled his orgasm. Evelyn would not have minded if he had, but she wanted more from him that night, so she kept her touch on his cock slow and deliberate.

Soon enough though, the thick, sticky sweet taste of precum appeared in her mouth and she felt as much as heard his breathing deepen. Reluctantly, she slipped him from her mouth and kissed his upper thigh. "I'll finish this properly later, Philippe. Right now though I want you to make love to me."

Evelyn stood and with the briefest of kisses, moved to the bed and reclined onto her back. Philippe watched with growing hunger as she lay there, one stocking-clad knee raised as she caressed her thighs with her delicate fingertips. He stepped out of his trousers and then slid his shorts over his hips and let them drop to the floor.

He felt somewhat awkward as he undressed and wished he could be as visually appealing to her as she was to him, but the way her gaze assessed him alleviated his concern. The lust and intensity in her eyes and the way she wet her lips was all the assurance he needed. He sat next to her on the bed and gently stroked her leg with the most feathery of caresses.

Philippe's blood rushed hotly through his veins now and he could barely resist his rising urges. He wanted their lovemaking to unfold like a symphony, beginning with harmonious undertones of desire before reaching the ultimate crescendo of passionate release. It was a perfection he craved, and this would happen with the woman he loved.

Philippe began trailing his kisses from her knee down her thigh. He leaned lower and as he drew closer to top of her stockings, she shifted and moaned in understanding. "Oh my gosh, Philippe..."

In a moment he was entwined in her slender legs with only her lace panties separating him from her rapidly moistening sex. He looked up at her as he kissed and nibbled on her thighs and when she surrendered into the sheets, he began to unclasp the garters from her stockings.

He proceeded slowly, kissing and caressing her as each garter was undone. He felt her tremble as his hands moved over her silky skin. When his fingers touched the hem of her panties, she lifted her bottom and allowed him to draw them off of her. Once that last barrier was removed, he kissed and nuzzled the small patch of manicured fur that remained just above the hooded rise of her clit.

Evelyn's heart raced as she felt his lips brush her there. His lips tickled her pleasantly and she allowed her thighs to part and fall away as he slipped his arms around them. His breath felt warm on her skin and she could not help but roll her hips upward as he began kissing around the edges of her mound.

"Oh my god, Philippe, that feels so good," she whispered as his soft lips fluttered over her. She felt the tip of his tongue slide between her labia and she wanted to arch upward. Her hands rose to her breasts as his touch became more insistent and she cupped them through the lace, sensing the pleasure of fondling her nipples.

Philippe smiled as she touched herself and then she felt his mouth press wetly against her vagina, sucking on her sensitive folds hard enough to make her gasp. He feasted on her moist flesh and, when his tongue dipped deeply into her, the urge to arch became irresistible. Evelyn's body lifted off of the sheets as she lifted her breasts from her bra and squeezed them.

Her visceral reaction emboldened Philippe. He slid his tongue up and down the length of her sex until it began to open like a flower. The wonderful sensation of her moisture being licked fueled her arousal. She began rolling her hips, trying to bring that most sensitive spot nearer to his tongue. Warm heat filled her and she clenched the sheets in her hands as the beginning of her orgasm pulsed through her. "Oh god, yes, Philippe, make me come. Make me come for you like that..."

Philippe responded to her pleas with his tongue encircling her purring button. Evelyn felt a rush of love wash over her as the warmth became more powerful. She rocked on the edge, breathlessly waiting for the torrent and her body exploded.

Philippe gently stroked pelvis her while the waves of orgasm rolled over her. It was a beautiful thing to behold. The convulsions of her lithe body and the breathless moans that came from deep within her created an erotic vision unlike anything he had experienced before. This powerful response deeply satisfied him and he felt joyful to give her such pleasure.

He waited for her cascading waves to calm and moved up next to her on the bed. Evelyn's eyes had closed and when she felt his body next to hers, she rolled onto her side, cuddling into him. He stroked her body and nuzzled her neck as she regained her breath. When he felt her bottom begin to press rhythmically against his cock, he knew that she was ready to feel him inside of her. He moved slightly and Evelyn lifted her leg and shifted until his erection began pressing into her hot, moist sex.

Philippe's excitement rose as he flexed his hips. He felt the moist heat of her stretched around the head of his cock and he groaned softly. Evelyn lubricated his shaft with her glistening dew and as she drew back and forward, she opened to him and he sank even more deeply into her.

Instinctively, they melted against one another until he had slipped his arm under her head, supporting her body while he steadied her against him. He nuzzled her neck as he thrust, kissing her shoulder and stroking her body as their rhythm became a duet. Soon Evelyn was whimpering softly in time with his thrusts.

Philippe paused and held his cock deep within her as they kissed hungrily. It was like a fire burning his heart with his desire to touch her every way. He slipped out of her and rolled her onto her back. They kissed with an intensity that left them breathless. He felt her hand guide him back into her heat, and growled with need as he plunged harder.

Evelyn's body tensed and became taut. Her mouth opened slightly as she felt him fill her. Her thighs wrapped behind his and her hands pulled at his hips, as she wanted all of him inside her. They paused, gazing into each other’s eyes until their lust overcame any self-control.

Philippe held her tightly and flexed his hips hard and he fucked her without any restraint. Evelyn desperately held him as he plunged again and again into her quaking body.

Their lovemaking became hot and hard, like a purifying fire, fusing them with an intimacy that exceeded the quest for mere pleasure. The strength and urgency of their movements was heightened onto a plane out of time and space. They built a spiritual bridge to an existence together more profound than that as individuals. This connection both physical and spiritual confirmed their love as well as their passion.

Evelyn knew instinctively that Philippe was at his peak. Her excitement fed off of his and her deep moans met his groans as her waves overtook her and he filled her. When Philippe collapsed next to her in exhaustion, she sighed contentedly and stayed in his loving embrace.

This was a night Evelyn and Philippe would remember for a long time, but one that would be repeated as they constructed their life together. She remained a Crown Prosecutor and he was appointed to the Ontario Court of Appeal. Their careers flourished, but separately as they scrupulously maintained their distance from each other professionally. Their relationship was in the open, so there was no embarrassment when either recused themself from a case that involved the other. After all of the drama and turmoil of the internet pornography case, the federal Justice Minister had proposed changes to the Criminal Code of Canada that would bring it into the twenty first century. Jackson went back to the States, having found that Canadian courtrooms were not his arena.

As they looked back on this time in their lives, Evelyn and Philippe were grateful that fate had allowed them to keep both their work and personal lives intact and let their love grow. They were contemplating getting married, but both wanted a quiet ceremony and small reception. There had been enough publicity in the Du Bois case to last them for a long time.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2011-17 Principessa. All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, Principessa.

To link to this sex story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="">Legal Intrigue - Part Two</a>

Comments (16)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.