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12 months of desperate workers


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June: the optician    Marie was contented with her life so far. Married to a kind and hard working man and with a beautifulhealthy3 year old she felt so lucky. With both her and her husband

October: the mortgage advisor    Nadia, like most people, had aspects of her job she wasn’t keen on. Overall though she enjoyed it and had a sense of satisfaction helping people secure loans

February:  Florist delivery driver    January and February were sobering months for Skye as she delivered more to funeral directors and hospitals than to private houses. Cold weather, the ab

May: the defence lawyer

 

Ian was glad it was Tuesday. Monday’s were overload day with new cases piling in by the dozen after drunken weekends and police referrals from drug addicts and people arrested for all sorts of offences. Wednesdays were his office days where he never knew what might happen but Tuesdays were his court days where he could do his stuff and put all his years of studying to good use. 

 

Ian lived for grey areas. He could find loopholes in laws quickly and he had a reputation for getting the even most guilty client off lightly. ‘Mitigating circumstances’ had become his middle name. He believed behaviour was communication and that people needed help not punishment. He also liked to make money and more of it. 

 

Ian knew the court like that back of his hand. He also knew many of the girls who arranged the court times like the back of his hand too. He knew parts of their body that others never saw and he used that to his advantage flirting and winking to make sure his court times always landed on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So far it seemed to work at a small cost of a little peck on the cheek or cheap chocolates now and again. No hardship as the girls were stunning, well two of them at least. Mabel was more rounded and plain but what she lacked in looks she made up it in efficiency. Ian knew how to work everyone and everything. People were a way to make money and not much more. Most just called him a charmer.

 

Ian arrived early with his Costa coffee in hand and sat in his Audi watching commuters coming and going from the bus and train depot across the road while the odd person walked their dog and curtains began opening in nearby windows. It was only 8am but Ian had planned this to get time to run through his notes again and dictate a few things into his phone in peace. He wasn’t hungry so coffee was fine and by 8:30 his cup was empty and he noticed Vince arrive to open the busy city court. He waved at Ian and Ian used that as a signal to stop his reading and pack away his notes. It was time for work and his adrenaline was already pumping. 

 

Inside Ian headed upstairs to the barristers and professionals area. Nicknamed the lawyer’s laird’ Ian switched on the coffee machine and the router and his laptop and sat down in the comfortable lounge to log into the court system and see what order the cases were and who was against who professionally. More importantly he checked virtually into his office to pick up any last minute information. It wasn’t at all surprising to Ian to have a lot of additional new information that his opponent tried to raise at the last minute to throw his case. Today was no exception. As the emails arrived and he sipped his second coffee of the day more and more people started to arrive. Huddled voices, boiling kettle and rustling papers could just be heard over ringing phones, clicks of computer keys and loud hi’s. Ian zoned in and then quickly closed his computer as his phone rang to say his first client was downstairs. 

 

As he passed the gents he thought about going in and even paused. He needed to go but not desperately yet and this morning’s client was very volatile. He’d been impressed he even turned up if truth be told. He wanted him to remain on the premises and stay sober so he rushed downstairs to the general waiting room and was pleased to see the young lad had at least tried to look smart and even brought his harassed mum with him. He signaled to the lad to come into the corridor and asked how he was. He hoped he would be fine to wait so he could head back to the loos before they were due in court in 15 minutes. One minute with his client proved this would never happen as he tried to keep the lad stable and strong. 

 

Ten minutes later and Ian still hadn’t felt sure enough to be able to leave his client despite his mum being there. If anything the lad’s mum seemed to be making him more volatile not less! He was threatening to walk out, drink or even take drugs so Ian felt compelled to sit with him despite protests from his bladder. When the lad complained he was thirsty and said he was heading to the shop for ‘water’ Ian guided him instead to a vending machine and to keep the client at ease he bought him a bottle of water and one for himself too. Wearing a full suit in a warm court was sweltering. Both men drank around half their bottles before a buzz from the court room indicated it was their turn to be called. 

 

Ian was rarely nervous but the combination of a young, drug addicted, alcohol dependent client who clearly had committed the crime and the fact he really needed the toilet were not making him confident. He sat with his legs tightly crossed trying to keep the boy from doing a runner. If only his mother could watch him even for a few minutes but how unprofessional it would be for them to be called through with no defence lawyer because he had ran to the bathrooms and missed his crucial time to be in court. There was no way Ian  could risk his career no matter how much he had to pee. He clenched tight and tried to focus on the case at hand. 

 

The call came and Ian took his young client’s hand and pulled him through to the intimidating and formal court. He had briefed his client on all the necessary protocol and thankfully the lad did exactly as taught, probably, Ian thought, through fear. Courts were very scary places even for trained lawyers. 

 

The judge outlined the charges against his client and his client acknowledged the charges without agreeing or admitting guilt. Ian breathed a sigh of relief but he certainly couldn’t relax as the case hadn’t even started, and besides if he relaxed too much he was sure he would pee himself. 

 

None of the witness statements shocked Ian in any way as he had read and reread them so many times. He had his questions ready but he was struggling to stay composed as he sat crossed legged with his knee bouncing. Everything seemed to be dragging in and he could not wait for this case to be over. He could not wait to get to a urinal. The judge wasn’t helping as he questioned the witnesses on some minor discrepancies. They were clearly nervous, as was Ian, as his bladder sent message after message begging him to find a bathroom. Finally it was Ian’s chance to stand and quiz the poor witnesses. Standing meant gravity working against him as all the coffee and water dropped inside his bladder and pushed against his sphincter for release. Ian tapped his foot subconsciously trying to keep his penis moving so it stopped it releasing. He was struggling to focus but thankfully his notes kept him from floundering too much. 

 

He asked the first witness a question, deliberately worded to try and confuse. They simply repeated what they had said before. Ian tried again but still the witness stayed strong. 

 

The prosecuting lawyer then had his say as he pleaded the case of his client outlining all of the physical, financial and emotional pain that Ian knew his client had committed. He wasn’t going to let his client plead guilty without outlining everything Ian had prepared though. He just wished the prosecutor would hurry up his speech as he was bursting for a piss now and struggling not to show it. Hidden slightly from the other party Ian couldn’t help but rub himself to try and halt the constant demands from his bladder for release. Everything within him was tense, when to make matters worse his client started crying and began blurting out ‘I did it. I did. I’m sorry.’ 

 

Ian knew this was his chance to get in quickly while the iron was hot. He’d actually wanted and planned all this to happen so he could outline how remorseful and sorrowful his client really was and how his awful neglect as a child had caused him to fall on hard times and in with the wrong crowd. How his client had a diagnosis of mental health problems that would be exasperated in prison and how a closely monitored community order would allow his client the time and space to get his life back together and get treatment for his mental health, which in the long term would actually make him less of a risk to society. The entire time Ian was outlining this he was struggling to stand still. He hated the fact his body was making him look so unprofessional but he knew if he stood perfectly still his bladder would win against him. 

 

Without a jury it all rested in the judges decision and as the judge outlined and summed up the case Ian sat squirming in his seat as his client squirmed in an entirely different way. Ian absolutely longed to get to the gents, his balls ached with urgency yet he could absolutely not leave court until the judge released them. He had plenty to say and Ian struggled to work out which way the case was heading. All he could think about was the fact he could feel his expensive boxers getting damper. He’d never wanted a court case to end so badly in his life. 

 

Finally the judge made his ruling and Ian held the end of his penis in anticipation. Would his client be released or would he be left to sort out a mess? His body was as tense as the case. Against all odds the judge ruled that while he accepted the remorse and guilt of Ian’s client he had to pass a sentence that reflected the gravity of the case in hand, yet he absolutely acknowledged that prison may in fact cause more harm than good especially if a shorter sentence was passed which would not allow the criminal time to receive the necessary treatment to prevent him reoffending. Ian was willing it to draw to a close as he pinched himself even tighter as a spurt leaked out. This was critical, both for him and his client. 

 

‘I hereby sentence you to one year community sentence with the condition that you attend a centre for addiction, carry out 50 hours a week free services in your community each week and you are placed under a tag where you must not leave the house after 9pm for the next six months. Do you agree to abide by these conditions?’ 

 

Ian breathed a sigh of relief though he couldn’t relax for fear his bladder would burst. He nodded to his shocked client to agree and the hammer was dropped to signal court could be released. 

 

Ian shook his clients hand but then stood awkwardly as the client’s mum came up tearfully to shake his hand too. Ian desperately needed out of court and to a toilet more urgently than he could ever remember. Right now his client had done well but he couldn’t stay to congratulate him or explain what would happen and he was never so thankfully for court staff who came to escort his client away to complete necessary forms. 

 

He made polite excuses to his clients and pushed through the court as quickly as he could, not caring who he bumped into. With his bag in tow he raced up the old Victorian staircase and along the corridor towards the ‘lawyer’s laird’ and pushed his back against the door of the gents. Ian had never in his life been so delighted to see a free urinal as he dropped his bag, unzipped his suit trousers and pulled his pulsating member from his wet underwear. His penis head hardly saw the light of day before it exploded with warm foaming piss that shot out of Ian at speed. He stood with one arm resting on the tiled wall and his head held back as he sighed the biggest sigh of his life. 

 

‘Fuck that was a close one mate!’

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Absolutely love it! Amazing!

During my last eye test I was sure that the optician, an attractive young Eastern European lady, needed to use the loo. It was early afternoon and they were running behind on their appointments. I had to wait a while and when I was finally seen, my optician seemed really fidgety and flustered and mentioned to me how busy they had been all day. The optician rooms were right in the middle of a large supermarket so the toilets were not close by, and I guessed she’d not been able to run to the loo since the morning.

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23 hours ago, Despguy123 said:

Absolutely love it! Amazing!

During my last eye test I was sure that the optician, an attractive young Eastern European lady, needed to use the loo. It was early afternoon and they were running behind on their appointments. I had to wait a while and when I was finally seen, my optician seemed really fidgety and flustered and mentioned to me how busy they had been all day. The optician rooms were right in the middle of a large supermarket so the toilets were not close by, and I guessed she’d not been able to run to the loo since the morning.

Glad to hear n you are enjoying these as your own writing has brought men so much pleasure over the the years. These are all completely fictional but I like to hope they a realistic and very much believable. I’m loving writing them and you may enjoy knowing that I write them all whilst needing to go myself. They are not that short so the endings may reflect what the author is doing too at times. 

Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment. It’s greatly appreciated.

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