Three sharp raps came at the door of my hotel room. I had taken off my shoes, but other than that was still dressed, so I went to answer it. A man in a crisp white shirt and blazer stood there. He was greying at the temples and built like a former linebacker that still kept in shape. He was my height but must have outweighed me by nearly a hundred pounds.
"Mr. Jefferson?"
"Yes?"
"May I come in? It's hotel business."
I wasn't sure what that meant, but his icy blue eyes were a little intimidating, "Umm, sure."
He stepped into the room while I closed the door.
A little uncertainly, I asked, "What can I help you with?"
He pulled a 4x6 photograph from the inside pocket of his blazer and handed it to me.
I felt faint. It was a picture of me, from last night, laying on my side with my finger in my ass and look of pleasure on my face. My cheeks felt hot as I glanced at him.
His smile was nothing less than predatory, "I certainly wouldn't want any of the video of that to reach your loved ones. Would you.?"
For a moment I was furious, "Fuck you! I'm not giving you a thing. Go ahead and do what you have to do. I'll sue you for breach of privacy."
He didn't even flinch, "And the recording will become public record."
He started for the door, "Very well Mr. Jefferson. Let's see how this plays out shall we?"
I thought of the look on my families' faces, my co-workers faces, and I knew he had me. I choked out, "Wait."
He paused.
"How much do you want?"
He turned back around, again with that savage grin, "Oh, I don't want money. I own the hotel. I want something else."
I suddenly felt even more nervous, "What?"
He strode up to stand face to face with me. It turned out he was even taller than me. I'm not a small man, but I looked like a willow next to him.
He looked down at me and said, "I want you. One look at that sexy ass and I had to have it. And I will. Or else..."