The Defense Lawyer Who Crossed Every Line

Valeria Moreira was forty-two, had two divorces behind her, and a reputation as a criminal defense lawyer that had cost her more than one sleepless night. Her office on the twelfth floor of the Sucre Building overlooked the main avenue: broad windows, gray walls, and a conference table that had seen things no case file would ever record.

That morning, Lucas Pereyra was sitting across from her. A thirty-eight-year-old man, an expensive suit, and an even more expensive problem. While Valeria went over the options in the calm voice one used to deliver bad news, he wasn't looking at the file. He was looking at Camila.

Her secretary was thirty-two, and that day she was wearing a white dress that clung exactly where Lucas couldn't stop looking. When Camila crossed the office to fetch some folders, he tilted his head slightly to follow her, staring unabashedly at the ass pressed against the fabric and the line of her bra visible beneath the back of the dress.

—Three to five years is the minimum —Valeria said—. With active cooperation, we might be able to aim for the lower end of the sentence. Camila, can you arrange an appointment with Judge Mercado for me this week?

—Right away, counselor.

The intercom rang. Santiago Vera, a prosecutor and Valeria's friend since college, had a new case that couldn't wait. She apologized, picked up her briefcase, and left her two employees alone in the office.

***

Lucas waited exactly three minutes.

Camila had her back to him, entering data into the computer, when she heard footsteps approaching. She wasn't surprised. She had been noticing that look for six weeks and knew how to tell the difference between a man who looked and one who was going to do something about it.

—How long does it normally take? —Lucas asked, leaning against the desk beside her.

—Depends on the case —Camila said without turning around.

—And this one?

—Long enough.

He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her toward him. He looked at her. She held his gaze without blinking.

When he kissed her, she responded immediately, opening her mouth and letting his tongue enter without resistance. Lucas bit her lower lip and ran one hand down the side of her dress until he squeezed one of her tits through the fabric. Camila moaned softly, more confirmation than surprise.

—I knew you were going to come —she whispered in his ear—. You've been looking at my pussy for six weeks as if you were going to fuck me right here.

—And I'm going to fuck you —Lucas replied, his hoarse voice against her neck.

He sat her on Valeria's desk and lowered the zipper of her dress down her back. Camila unbuttoned his shirt with steady hands, tugging his belt from side to side until it came loose. He pushed the fabric off her shoulders, leaving the dress bunched around her waist, and buried his mouth between her tits while undoing her bra in one movement. He sucked them one at a time, licking her hard nipples until Camila arched her back against the desk lamp and dug her fingers into his hair.

—That's it —she urged him—, harder, bite them.

Lucas obeyed. He took both breasts in his hands, squeezed them together, and ran his tongue between them before biting one with just enough force to make her moan in earnest. Then he moved lower, kneeling between Camila's spread legs. He lifted the skirt of her dress to her waist and yanked off her panties without much ceremony. Camila leaned back across Valeria's desk, bracing her elbows among Lucas's case files and the day's planner.

He opened her thighs with his hands and looked closely at her pussy before beginning. She was wet, glistening, her lips swollen and open. Lucas licked her from bottom to top, slowly, sucking her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and then sliding in two fingers. Camila closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

—Fuck your mother —she whispered—, keep doing that.

Lucas ate her hungrily. He moved his fingers inside her at a steady rhythm while sucking her clitoris, alternating with broad licks that traveled over her entire sex. Camila began lifting her hips against his face, pushing, seeking more pressure. When Lucas added a third finger and squeezed her ass with his other hand, she had to bite her forearm to keep from screaming. She came like that, squeezing his head between her thighs, while he kept sucking without letting go until Camila pushed him away by the shoulders.

—Enough, enough —she gasped—, now I want your cock.

She slid off the desk and knelt in front of him, her legs still trembling from the orgasm. She lowered his trousers and boxer shorts in one motion. Lucas's cock sprang up hard against her face. Camila took it in both hands and began slowly, looking up at him with an expression he wasn't going to forget easily. She ran her tongue along its entire length, from base to tip, and then sucked his balls one by one, taking them fully into her mouth while massaging his cock with her hand.

When she put it in her mouth, she took it all the way down. No testing, no trying. Straight in until Lucas felt the back of her throat, and she stayed there for a few seconds without gagging, swallowing around the tip. Then she began to move, her mouth sliding all the way up and down, her tongue precisely tracing the exact contour he liked best, unhurried, until Lucas tangled his fingers in her hair and set the pace. Camila followed without resistance, taking him deep, never looking away. Saliva ran down her chin and over her breasts. He fucked her mouth with increasingly firm thrusts, and she let him, opening wider and sticking out her tongue between each drive.

—That's it, slut —he growled—, suck me clean.

Camila pulled away for a second, her lips red and swollen, and answered him without stopping her hand as it pumped him.

—Fuck me already, I can't take it anymore.

Lucas lifted her by the hair, turned her around, and bent her over Valeria's desk. She braced her elbows on the surface and pushed her ass back. He positioned himself behind her, ran the tip along her wet slit, and drove into her in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt. Camila opened her mouth soundlessly, her eyes closed.

The first penetrations were slow and deliberate, his weight crushing her against the cold wood. He took her hips in both hands and began fucking her, measuring every thrust, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in hard. Camila moaned into her arm, muttering curses he could barely understand. Then Lucas changed the rhythm. Harder, faster, deeper, until the sound of their bodies colliding filled the office and Camila had to bite her lip to keep from making too much noise.

—Harder —she begged through her teeth—, break me.

He gave her a sharp slap that left his hand marked on her and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. He fucked her like that, arched against him, while his other hand reached around to squeeze one of her tits and move down to her clitoris. Camila came a second time, shaking all over on the desk, the case papers scattered beneath her stomach. Lucas held out for a few more thrusts before pulling out and coming over her ass, streaking her lower back with spurts of semen.

Camila stayed like that for a moment, sprawled across the wood, breathing hard.

—Next time —she said without turning around—, give me less warning and show up with more.

They finished forty minutes before Valeria returned. The desk was left clean.

***

Mateo Gutiérrez was thirty-three when a debt convinced him that keeping four kilos in his garage was a manageable risk. At four in the morning, four officers in bulletproof vests proved that it wasn't. His girlfriend Renata watched him being led away in handcuffs from the doorway, shouting his name into the darkness.

Prosecutor Santiago called Valeria that same afternoon.

—Aggravated possession. No prior record. They used him as a storage site. The organizer's name is Tomás Ibarra, and he's a fugitive for now, but it's only a matter of days. The kid can't afford a lawyer.

—I'm on my way —Valeria said.

***

She arrived at the police station in a tight black skirt and a fitted blouse with the second button open. It wasn't calculated; it was simply how she dressed. But in that waiting room, with the officers eyeing her from the corners of their eyes, she knew every detail counted.

Commissioner Castillo gave her five minutes alone with the detainee.

Mateo was younger than she had imagined. Dark eyes, a firm jaw, tousled hair like someone who had gone two nights without sleeping properly. He looked at her the way one looks at something that arrives when one has stopped expecting anything.

—Everything you tell me stays between us —Valeria said—. I need the contact's name and any address you have.

He gave them to her without preamble. She took notes, picked up her briefcase, and placed a hand on his shoulder as she stood.

—I'm going to get you out. But I need time.

Mateo nodded. He followed her with his eyes until the door closed.

***

The director of the pretrial detention center was named Rodrigo Salinas. Fifty-four, gray-haired, broad-shouldered, and accustomed to solving problems with rules he himself established. He had a secretary named Pilar who had spent three years knowing exactly what those rules were and had decided they suited her.

That afternoon, at a hotel on Vélez Sársfield Avenue, they took care of their own business before returning to work. Pilar was a forty-year-old woman who did what she did because she wanted to, and that was what he liked most about her: he never had to ask her for anything twice. She was riding him, her large tits bouncing over Rodrigo's face, calmly riding his cock like someone who knew the other person's body by heart. He had his hands on her ass, guiding her rhythm, while she pressed one breast against his mouth so he could suck it.

—Slower —she asked—, I want to come with you inside me.

Rodrigo turned her over without pulling out, staying on top, and began fucking her at a different rhythm, deeper, with Pilar's legs spread over the hotel sheets. When the cellphone rang in the middle of the afternoon, Rodrigo answered without moving from where he was, his cock still inside her, moving slowly.

—Put the new arrival in cell twelve —he said, while Pilar bit his shoulder to keep from moaning into the phone—. Rolo and Marcos will keep an eye on him.

He hung up, tossed the phone onto the nightstand, and seized Pilar's hips with both hands. He fucked her pussy with a series of thrusts until she came, squeezing his cock inside her, contracting around him in a long shudder. Rodrigo came three thrusts later, inside her, without pulling out, just as she had asked.

***

Renata went to the prison four days after the transfer. The guard at the entrance told her that during the first week only legal visits were allowed. She insisted. He got tired of arguing. Pilar appeared with that smile that never reached her eyes and led her to the director's office.

Rodrigo explained the protocols to her with calculated patience. Then he waited for Pilar to leave, and his tone changed.

—If you want to see him tomorrow, I can arrange a conjugal visit —he said, moving closer—. But I need you to be nice to me this afternoon.

Renata understood perfectly. She had gone four days without news of Mateo, and another week of waiting seemed impossible.

—Nice how? —she asked, though she already knew.

Rodrigo didn't answer with words. He placed a hand on the back of her neck and gently pushed her downward. Renata let herself be guided, kneeling between his legs, and opened his belt with fingers that needed no one's permission to tremble. She pulled out his cock and looked at it for a second before putting it in her mouth. Rodrigo was big. She began slowly, sucking the tip and wetting it thoroughly before taking it deeper.

What she didn't expect was for Pilar to return earlier than planned and, instead of leaving, lock the door from the inside. She approached Renata from behind while Rodrigo held her head with one hand and set the rhythm with the hand that was fucking her mouth. Pilar gently lifted her from the floor, opened her blouse button by button, and slipped it from her shoulders. She undid Renata's bra and ran her hands over her from the front, taking her tits and touching her nipples with her thumbs until they hardened.

—What great tits you have —she whispered in her ear—. Rodrigo, look at her tits.

Together they led her toward the leather sofa beside the window. Pilar ran her hands over Renata's shoulders, slowly moving down to her breasts, and kissed her neck with the softness of the unexpected. Then she turned her to kiss her on the mouth. Renata closed her eyes and stopped resisting, letting Pilar's tongue enter without restraint while Rodrigo's hands lowered her skirt and panties together.

They sat her on the sofa. Pilar knelt between her legs and began eating her pussy with a skill that undid Renata within the first minute. She knew exactly where to press, when to suck harder, when to soften. She slid in two fingers, then three, while sucking Renata's clitoris with a consistency she had never experienced from a man. Rodrigo stood behind the sofa, took off his shirt, and offered his cock to Renata at mouth level.

She took it and put it in her mouth. She sucked Rodrigo's cock while Pilar ate her pussy, and at some point she realized she was moaning with her mouth full and didn't care. She came first on Pilar's tongue, arching her back against the leather sofa and squeezing Pilar's head between her thighs. Rodrigo pulled away, grabbed her hips, and turned her onto her knees on the sofa, with her hands braced on the backrest.

He drove his cock into her ass with one thrust. Renata cried out against the leather, and Pilar climbed onto the sofa in front of her, sitting with her legs spread before Renata's face. She grabbed her hair and pressed her face against her pussy.

—Suck me the way I sucked you —she ordered, without asking permission.

Renata obeyed. She licked Pilar's clitoris clumsily at first, then with growing confidence, while Rodrigo fucked her from behind with thrusts that made the sofa bump against the window. The room filled with the smell of sex, with the breathing of the three of them, with the wet sound of their bodies. Pilar came with her pussy pressed against Renata's mouth, pulling her hair and moaning at length. Rodrigo held out for a few more minutes before pulling out, turning Renata over again, and coming over her tits while Pilar took his cock and milked the last drops from him with her hand.

What followed lasted longer than Renata had calculated and was considerably more intense. Rodrigo was the kind of man who took his time when he had what he wanted, and he wasn't finished with her. Pilar knew exactly how to make a woman who had arrived out of obligation end up not wanting to leave. They lifted her from the sofa, took her to the carpet, and started again. Renata lost count of how many times she came before they let her get dressed.

***

On the third day, Renata was able to see Mateo in the conjugal-visits room. They hugged without speaking for a full minute. She smelled of her usual perfume, the cheap lavender scent he had come to associate with mornings at home.

—Are you all right? —Mateo asked.

—I'm fine. Valeria is working. —Pause.— And you?

—Fine. I have good cellmates.

They looked at each other. The room was small, with a narrow bed and a plastic chair. The guard was outside.

—I miss you —Renata said, and there was nothing platonic about the way she said it.

Mateo took her by the waist and pulled her close. She needed no further instructions.

They undressed quickly, without the luxury of taking their time. He pulled her shirt over her head and undid her bra with the impatient hands of someone who had spent days counting the hours. She lowered his prison trousers and grabbed his cock through his underwear before pulling them off. He was already hard. Renata knelt on the narrow bed and put him in her mouth without preliminaries, sucking him all the way to the base, moving her head quickly as if she wanted to make up for every day she hadn't been able to touch him.

Mateo took her face in both hands and looked at his cock filling her mouth.

—Come here —he said hoarsely.

He lifted her, threw her onto her back on the bed, and climbed over her. He spread her legs and ran his tongue over her pussy, slowly at first, then with more hunger, sucking her clitoris until Renata dug her heels into his back. He ate her with the kind of hunger only someone who has gone a long time without eating can have. He slid in two fingers, searched inside her, and kept licking until she came clutching his hair, trembling all over.

He moved up to kiss her and drove his cock into her with a single thrust. Renata opened her mouth against his shoulder and dug her fingers into his back. What followed was the kind of sex that exists only when the absence has been long: he explored her entire body with his hands and mouth as if he needed to confirm she was still real, while she guided him where she needed him with an urgency that allowed no detours. The narrow bed creaked without hiding anything.

—Harder, my love —she begged—, fuck me hard.

Mateo changed positions. He sat her on top of him, and she began riding him, her hands braced on his chest, rising and falling with her tits bouncing before his face. He grabbed them and sucked them one at a time while setting the rhythm with his hands on her hips. Renata threw herself against him, resting her face on his neck, and began moving her ass in circles, squeezing him inside with every motion. When the guard knocked on the door to warn them that their time was up, Renata had her fingers buried in the sheet, and Mateo came without stopping, holding her by the hips and coming inside her with a growl he muffled against her shoulder.

They stayed still for a second, with him still inside her, breathing into the hollow of her neck.

They dressed in silence. They kissed one last time.

—Don't take too long —she said.

—I won't —he promised.

***

They caught Tomás Ibarra in Rosario ten days later. Valeria went to the prison without warning.

Rodrigo Salinas received her with his usual smile and explained that Mateo was being held incommunicado because of an incident in the yard. She listened, waited, and then pulled a sheet of paper from her briefcase.

—A writ of habeas corpus signed by Prosecutor Vera —she said—. If you don't let me see him within the next ten minutes, I'll file it this afternoon.

The director called Pilar.

The prison's central corridor was long and noisy. Comments rained down from the cells. Valeria ignored them with the practiced ease of someone who had been doing so for years. Cell twelve was at the end of Corridor B.

When Rolo and Marcos left with the guards and the door closed, Mateo jumped up from the bed.

—They caught Ibarra —Valeria said before he could speak.

—Seriously?

—Yes. The deal is almost finalized. House arrest while the case proceeds. A few more weeks and you'll be out.

Mateo exhaled. He sat on the edge of the bed. Valeria sat beside him, her briefcase on the floor and her hands in her lap.

—Thank you —he said.

He looked at her in a way that wasn't the look of a grateful client. It was the look of someone who had spent weeks thinking about what he would say if he ever found himself alone with her.

He took her hand. Valeria didn't pull away.

—Mateo...

—Don't say anything.

He kissed her. She responded.

It was slow at first, the kind of kiss that begins without certainty about where it will go and ends up answering a question neither of them had voiced. He slipped the strap of her dress off her shoulder. She took his face in both hands and bit his lower lip.

They moved toward the bed without breaking contact.

Valeria knew exactly what she was doing and exactly why she shouldn't do it. She also knew there was a guard in the corridor who wouldn't return until she called him, and that for weeks she had noticed the way Mateo looked at her during every visit: with complete attention, without the haste or calculation that characterized most of her clients.

He lowered her dress over her shoulders and let it fall. He unfastened her bra and took her breasts in both hands, looking at them for a second before lowering his mouth to suck them. He ran his tongue over her nipples, one and then the other, while Valeria rested his head against her chest and breathed hard. He bit one nipple with just enough force, and she moaned for the first time, a low sound escaping without permission.

—Be quiet —Valeria told him, more to herself than to him—, there are guards outside.

—Then don't make me moan —Mateo replied, biting her other nipple harder.

She calmly unbuttoned his prison trousers, without hurrying, and lowered them along with his underwear. She looked at his hard, full cock, and a half smile escaped her. She took it between her hands, measured what he had with her fingers, and knelt in front of him. She did what no woman who wore a robe in a courtroom should ever do to her own client: slowly, wasting nothing, with her mouth, her hands, and her eyes fixed on him until Mateo had to brace himself against the wall to keep his balance.

She ran her tongue over his entire cock, from base to tip, and took it all the way into her mouth. She sucked his balls, one first and then the other, while pumping his cock with her hand. Mateo took her head in both hands, and she let him, letting him fuck her mouth at a rhythm of his own choosing, swallowing each time without looking away from his eyes. When she felt him tremble, she pulled away.

—Inside me —she said, rising—, I don't want you to finish in my mouth.

She took off her panties and led him toward the bed. He received her with his hands on her hips. Valeria climbed on top of him, positioned herself, and lowered herself slowly, feeling him enter inch by inch. When he was fully inside her, she stayed still for a moment, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Then she began to move. The penetration was deep, deliberate, without detours: the kind practiced by people who know time is limited and don't want to waste it. She moved with her hands braced on his chest, up and down, squeezing him inside with every descent.

Mateo grabbed her tits, squeezed them, and sucked them when she leaned forward. He took her ass in both hands and helped her move faster. She dug her nails into his shoulders when he changed the angle. He took her neck in one hand, firmly but without squeezing, and looked at her.

—No woman has ever fucked me like this —he said hoarsely.

—Shut up and fuck me —Valeria replied.

He turned her over and placed her on her back on the thin mattress. He spread her legs with his hands and climbed over her, sliding into her again without transition. He fucked her with deep, lengthy thrusts, looking into her eyes, covering her mouth with his palm when she began moaning too loudly. Valeria came like that, his hand over her mouth and his cock buried inside her, shaking with a long orgasm that left her trembling.

The narrow bed creaked. The cell filled with heat and the sound of two bodies meeting for the first time and yet fitting together without effort. Then she turned onto her stomach and gave him complete access without instructions, as if she already knew what he was going to ask. Mateo took her hips firmly, positioned himself behind her, and penetrated her from behind, burying himself all the way. He fucked her in that position until he felt he couldn't hold back any longer. They finished like that, with him leaning over her back, holding her by the hips, coming inside her with a tight growl. Both of them were absolutely silent except for their breathing.

When they finished, Valeria stayed still for a moment, recovering her normal breathing, her face against the mattress and him still resting over her back.

—Never tell anyone about this —she said, sitting up.

—Who would I tell?

She straightened her dress in the corridor. She told Pilar that the client was fine and that she would contact the prosecutor that afternoon. Pilar smiled with that smile that said nothing and everything.

***

Forty-eight hours later, Mateo walked out through the prison gates. Renata was waiting for him on the sidewalk with an embrace that lasted more than a minute.

Valeria watched them from her car, parked across the street. She started the engine before they could recognize her.

That night, Santiago called her with a new case. A woman who had killed her partner in self-defense. Valeria listened in silence, wineglass in hand, her eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the window.

—Are you taking it? —Santiago asked.

—I always take them —she said—. That's what I'm here for.