The Pleasure Toy

Rachel Grant managed to find a free afternoon every week for a month, but never felt the need to make Lewis Carter do anything except strip naked and then kneel while she remained fully clothed. That was enough to reinforce her feelings of powerful control and was in many ways similar to what her friend made him do on Sunday mornings although they never discussed it. The only real differences were that Rachel fucked him after he'd spent five or ten minutes with his 23-year-old head between her 50-year-old legs, and Claire just sent him on his way with a painful boner that took Lewis two minutes in the shower to get rid of.

Neither woman cared what the other did with Lewis, although Rachel kept expecting her friend to at least mention the marks and scratches on his back, even though she never seemed to leave any of her own. She didn't know that her friend never saw their shared pleasure toy without a shirt on, and Claire simply assumed that Rachel made Lewis do exactly what she did: go down until she couldn't take anymore and then tell him to go.

The mutual cover stories worked like a charm, with Rachel even telling friends and family that she helped out at the church before playing tennis every week, until one Monday evening Emma Payton overheard the pair of them tell Lewis's mother that they'd been to a gym together after the service, when she knew that it had been closed for repairs to the roof. And not only did she know that Claire and Rachel had lied, but she also knew that Lewis hadn't been with her son all day either as he'd spent it working on that very same gym's roof for over 12 hours due to an emergency leak repair.

Emma didn't know if the two lies were connected, but as they'd been told to the same person, she started to wonder if one of her friends had been with an attractive, possibly available, 23-year-old, and the other was providing an alibi.

Emma Payton got home an hour or so later, picked up her son's phone while he was in the shower, and knowing that her birthday was his PIN, tapped it into his keypad. She then scrolled through the contacts until she found Lewis's number, added her friend's son's details into her own phone, told her husband that she was having an early night, and went upstairs.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, spent twenty minutes thinking about what message to send, and eventually settled on a simple nondescript lie: "I know about yesterday, and I've got some very interesting pictures."

She sniggered to herself and waited. Emma knew absolutely nothing about what, if anything, Lewis had done the day before, and didn't have any pictures, but unless he was bold enough to call her bluff, that wouldn't matter. She'd known her friend's son since he was a naive teenager, and now he was an attractive but easily manipulated, young man who was in her opinion more likely to panic than stay calm if he had something to hide.

Lewis read the message, and immediately wondered why one of the two women he'd spent the day with had decided to share her embarrassing pictures of him. He spent five minutes trying to guess who it could have been, decided not to ask either as it might upset the "innocent" one, laughed at the thought of thinking either woman was even remotely "innocent", and replied "What do you want?"

Emma Payton laughed at what she took to be an admission that Lewis had indeed got some sort of guilty secret, and for some reason had just believed that someone had incriminating evidence but couldn't think of any reason why. She sniggered quietly at the thought of playing whatever little game this had just become and felt a rush of excitement at the possibilities winning it would present. She lay back on the bed, licked the middle finger of her left hand, slid it down the inside of her panties, pressed it into the dampening patch at the top her legs, and started to rub very gently.

She spent five minutes with her eyes tightly closed imagining that her finger was the willing tongue of a 23-year-old, and then used the thumb of her other hand to send the reply: "Nothing that you didn't do yesterday :)"

Lewis Carter felt equally scared and excited. He had no idea what the unknown message sender actually wanted, but he'd spent the day before orally pleasuring two older women, and one of them had fucked him afterwards which meant that his curiosity got aroused as fast as his rapidly stiffening hard-on. "OK" he replied and waited to see what came back. Emma Payton carried on fingering herself until her flimsy pink panties were a sodden red mess before she sent back, "Tomorrow at 6. Stand at the bus stop near your house," pulled off her underwear, dropped it in the washing basket and showered while she firmed up her plans for the next day.

Lewis showered, shaved and dressed in a dark suit as if he was going to a formal dinner somewhere in the city and got to the bus stop fifteen minutes early. He had started to sweat nervously when his mother's friend drove slowly up beside him, stopped, flicked open her car door and said emotionlessly: "Get in." Lewis Carter hesitated. He'd been trying to avoid Emma Payton for months, ever since the day she'd tricked him into dropping his trousers with the promise of a hand job, and her friend had squeezed some sort or vibrating plug between his butt cheeks. Emma Payton grinned as he hesitated: "We both know that you're not actually waiting for a bus."

"Er, no," he replied, "I didn't know who I was waiting for". Emma grinned back at him and told a carefully crafted, very convincing, lie about getting his number along with the pictures as close friends "share everything".

He reluctantly got into Emma's car believing that one of the two women he'd been with two days earlier had passed on some embarrassing pictures of him, while Emma smirked at how easy it had been to make Lewis believe she could prove he'd been with either Claire or Rachel two days earlier.

Neither of them spoke for the ten minutes it took for Emma to drive into an unlit lot behind a line of single storey offices and park the car. Emma Payton then unclipped her safety belt, leant across to Lewis, unclipped the button on his trousers while he sat frozen like a frightened rabbit, pulled down his zipper, and whispered: "I owe you this," she said starting to jerk at his rapidly stiffening erection, "But there's something that puzzles me about Sunday."

Lewis groaned with pleasure as Emma stuck her tongue in his ear, tugged gently and, knowing that he was totally unaware she didn't actually know anything at all, waited for his inevitable question: "What do you want me to tell you?"

She bent forward, licked and then sucked the tip of his now massive hard-on, sat upright, smiled benignly "Oh I don't want us to have a question and answer session when I'm having so much fun, so just start at the beginning and tell me everything," and then, unable to keep a straight face, grinned safe in the knowledge that Lewis would believe she really was enjoying herself, lied, "I know most of it anyway."

Emma tugged and stroked gently as she whispered occasional lies into his ear like "She told me about that" and "That made her so happy she messaged all of us". Many times, he almost came in her hand, but Emma Payton knew exactly what she was doing and kept him so close to the edge of happiness that the thought of him telling her something she didn't know never crossed his mind. And after ten minutes of being expertly handled by the most attractive woman who'd ever put her hands down his pants, Lewis had confessed everything he'd done with two of her friends, including posing for two sets of pictures he thought she'd already seen.

Emma Payton grinned as Lewis splurted helplessly all over his jacket and shook like he was shivering in a cold wind. "Thank you for telling me all that," she smirked, "It's given me a lot to think about, now zip yourself up and get out." He watched him fasten his pants, and then said, "See that red door?" He glanced over his shoulder to where she was pointing, and replied, "Yes".

"That's the rear door to my office," she said, "Come round here at five thirty tomorrow, but don't tell anybody. Not Claire, not Rachel, nobody. Understand?" He didn't really as it seemed like his mother's friends told each other everything about him, but nodded anyway, as she continued, "Now get out. You can make your own way home." She reached across him to the door handle and pulled. He pushed the door open, unclipped his safety belt, put his foot on the concrete, and turned to the forty-three-year-old woman sat smirking next to him wanting to say something but didn't know what.

She laughed at seeing his nervous, confused expression. "I'm going to take this evening to process everything you've told me. And if you liked that", she said nodding towards his crotch, "Imagine what I can do with this." She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and ran the tip around the inside of her bright red lips. It was the most erotic sight Lewis Carter had ever seen, and any reservations he may have had about trusting Mrs Payton simply disappeared.

He managed to half-whisper "See you tomorrow", got out and gently closed Emma Payton's car door. Lewis Carter then watched her drive away, rubbed at the mess on his jacket so that it turned into a less obvious damp patch, and walked slowly home wondering how he'd managed to become a plaything for some of his mother's friends.