Bigtitsatwork-nikki-benz-zz-courthouse-part-two Access

“Oh, I disagree,” she said, her voice dropping to a smoky whisper. She straightened up and, with deliberate slowness, began to walk around the side of the desk. “Every room is an arena. It’s just a matter of knowing which weapons to use.”

“You’re standing in my chambers, half-naked,” he breathed. “That’s your guarantee. If I wanted you gone, security would have been here five minutes ago.”

“You denied my motion,” she said softly, her lips almost brushing his ear. “But you didn’t dismiss my case. You left a door open.” BigTitsAtWork-Nikki-Benz-ZZ-Courthouse-Part-Two

“Thorough,” he repeated, leaning back in his high-backed leather chair. He was a handsome man for his age, silver at the temples, with the kind of authority that came from decades on the bench. “Or persistent?”

She turned fully, facing him. The silhouette of her body against the city lights was a masterpiece of curves—the impossible hourglass, the heavy breasts, the flat stomach, the powerful thighs. She reached behind her back, and with a flick of her fingers, the bra loosened. The straps slid down her shoulders. “Oh, I disagree,” she said, her voice dropping

“Or you can watch an innocent person go to prison because you were too… rigid… to listen to alternative forms of persuasion.”

“The kind of persuasion,” she said over her shoulder, looking back at him with hooded eyes, “that proves I’m willing to do anything to see justice served. You want to test my resolve, Judge? Let’s test yours.” It’s just a matter of knowing which weapons to use

“Counselor,” Judge Zimmer’s voice rumbled from behind his vast desk. He hadn’t looked up yet, his thick fingers still tracing a line in a hefty case file. “Your motion for reconsideration was… spirited.”

The Judge stood up slowly, his chair rolling back. He walked toward her, no longer the detached arbiter of the law, but a man. He stopped a foot away. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, not to touch, but to gently take the falling bra from her hands. He tossed it onto a chair.

Her breasts were free, full and proud, the large, dark areolas tight in the cool air. She didn’t flinch or cover herself. She owned the moment.