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Voilà the judge. An attractive older woman dressed in black,
possibly in her late fifties. Doesn't she look distinguished up
there, facing everyone? I wouldn't oust her from bed yet. For some
reason, the mere sight of a prominent woman turns me on. This
psychologic passion can easily turn into erotic agitation, you
know. Frankly, I would like to lay her right on the bench while her
gown is still on. Whew! Bear with me, please, it'll be over in a
little bit. By the way, the awful things that I said before about
judges need not apply to her... Oh, yes, I'm full of
contradictions! She would prefer to be seduced starting with the palms of her hands. You'd ask in disbelief: "How do you know that?" I slept with a couple of women in their fifties before and they were good... very good. The moist inner surface of the lips and the tip of the tongue arouses them as much as any other female. They enjoy caresses of the hair, the ear lobes, the sides of the neck, the upper arms, the breast, the low back, the buttocks and the inner thighs even more than young women do. What matters a few wrinkles and a varicose vein here and there for the terrific import of their experience and tenderness? They were sugary and gracious, polished with a particular wisdom that a man has to respect. I hope all that is not being wasted today... Oh, no! I haven't lost interest in you, dear. But, for a moment, an overpowering scene of the judge lying on her back, legs spread, knees bent and heels digging into the mattress stormed my reflections. I can picture myself boosting her sexual urges with private endearments while she returns a barrage of appreciative obscenities with my head locked between her thighs. Elle parle déjà. The judge must be tired of greeting strangers every day and repeating the same instructions over and over again. I hear a ring of boredom as the lady speaks: "If chosen to be part of this jury, you must not let bias, prejudice or sympathy affect your decision... The defendant has the right to remain silent... He is presumed to be innocent... The trial must be decided on evidence alone... The government must prove its case beyond reasonable doubt... I am going to ask all forty-three of you to stand up one by one and to give your name, occupation, general area of residence, length of time in the community, marital status, spouse's occupation, number of children, their ages and occupation, hobbies that you might have, prior military service... Also tell the court if you have previously served on a jury and, if so, were you able to reach a verdict? If anyone has close relatives in the medical profession or in law enforcement, please say so... Either the defense or the prosecution can challenge you without giving a reason... If you are disqualified, please don't see it as a personal inadequacy..." The defendant is a doctor. He's been accused of prescribing controlled substances unnecessarily by a Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) agent. The agent is the out-of-shape mulatto fellow sitting next to the prosecutor. Now we, the prospective jurors, must provide the information requested by the judge. The attorneys are taking notes on us, which is understandable given their occupation, but why do I have to endure forty-three oral résumés? Don't mind if I don't listen very closely. Boy, this selection process is going to take a while! I have nothing better to do than to look at you while we wait for your turn to speak... Is that gray I see interspersed in your blonde hair?
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