(Note: Reading Chapter I of this story will add some perspective for the reader)
*
Women are strange, aren't they? I mean, men are too, but women, well, who can figure out what they are thinking at any particular point in time.
I mean, I guess there is no etiquette for what happened in my basement that special night.
The vision of prim, proper, virginal Kelly Ann Peters sucking off my friends Tom, Dan and I in rapid succession was burnt into our memory. It was an exciting, erotic night, but while the guys were uncomfortable around the girl, Kelly Ann acted as if nothing happened. You would have thought she'd be embarrassed, humiliated, something, anything.
It could have been a dream or a he said, she said argument, except for the fact that I had much of the rendezvous on video tape.
In the weeks following Kelly Ann's fellatio experience each of us asked for a date in hopes of a repeat performance. Kelly Ann turned us town, saying she wasn't looking for a boyfriend, but never even remotely mentioned that special evening.
She didn't say a word to my sister Tara about her orally pleasing us, nor did she miss our weekly billiards session for the next several weeks. On those nights she didn't mention a thing, never intimated anything had happened nor did she treat us any different than she had before the episode. It was almost as if she had been totally inebriated that night.
Each of us was afraid to bring up the subject, wondering what kind of wrath would follow if Kelly Ann didn't remember anything, or worse. I will admit I didn't forget a single detail of that Saturday night when prim and proper Kelly Ann became a blowjob queen. I replayed that scene nightly, working my dick while thinking of her.
As time went on we all began dating...others.
Kelly Ann was seeing a couple guys and gradually had little time for her former pool partners. She and my sister Tara went on double dates, and Tara told me her friend was very happy with the guys she was seeing.
I often wondered if she remembered anything of THAT night, but soon moved on to other endeavors, like real dating. Still, I couldn't help thinking of the stunning redhead polishing and milking our youthful knobs before swallowing our seed. And knowing it had been caught on tape, available whenever I wanted, was quite exciting.
Over the next two years I infrequently ran into Kelly Ann, and the longer time went on the more distant she became. I heard she was bad-mouthing me with a couple classmates, which really stuck in my craw.
When she began dating the rich guy, James B. Jackson, she became not only distant but also condescending. It was almost as if she was too good for me now that she was seeing a rich boy. Her new beau was anything but a one-girl man.
Yes, he was seeing Kelly Ann, but he was still seeing several former girlfriends on the sly even after he and Kelly Ann announced their intention of marriage. Worse, he treated the gang of three --- Tom, Dan and I --- like dirt. That wasn't unusual; he treated nearly everyone like dirt. That's what rich people can do. Some suggest they are graduates of the High School of Being an Asshole.
It was summer, hot as all blazes, and I was working at a book store with faulty air conditioning when James entered in a hurry. He needed a certain book, and somehow we were out of stock. Well, the guy gave me a whale of crap, and then told the manager I had treated him poorly when all I had done was attempt to help him. I nearly got fired for that escapade and I made a vow to return the favor to the rich boy if I ever had the chance.
That chance didn't occur until I saw that marriage notice in the local paper. When I got home that night I locked my door and slipped my video tape of James' fiancée and watched Kelly Ann perform her exemplary oral talents of the Gang of Three.
Somewhere in the middle of the tape the idea struck, and the decision was made.
I might not be able to get back at James Jackson directly, but I would be able to take something of his without his knowledge...Kelly Ann Peters.
The plan was simple and took shape in minutes. In retrospect, it was probably not all that thought out, but, well, thinking of Kelly Ann and James at one time had a negative effect on my brain.
One, James B. Jackson was a jerk who needed to be taken down a peg or two or three. Two, Kelly Ann Peters was a beautiful virgin (or at least I surmised) with a blemish on her record. I had the video tape to ensure number three, I surmised, by taking care of one and two. All I had to do was find a way to make it happen.
Over the next couple days I thought of plan after plan, but honestly all sounded lame.
Then, my chance, I ran into Kelly Ann at Starbucks late one morning.
We traded cordial talk, and I congratulated her on her engagement. Then I leaned over and dropped the bombshell. "Uh, Kelly, does James know of your night with us?"
Kelly Ann blanched, her mind flashing back to the fateful evening.
"Oh, I didn't suppose he did," I murmured, answering my own question.
Kelly Ann stared at me for a few seconds, blood rushing to her pretty face.
"Jon, that was our little secret, and I expect it to stay that way. James would ruin your life if he found out about it. No matter what you say, I'll deny, and it will only mean bad things for you and your little friends. Let's face it, you aren't in my league," said the condescending girl.
I smiled at the lovely girl. I gazed at her lovely body, with my sight centering on her moist, sensual lips. I reached into a nearby envelope and pulled out a couple photos taken from the video tape. I showed the girl a couple shots of her sucking on a cock, photos that caused her to gasp.
"Uh, Kelly, I think you might better channel your concerns at his finding out about your involvement that night, not mine. And while he might not believe anything I said about your little escapade, I believe, I really do believe, that watching the video of your award-winning performance that night just might convince him that you are, well, not exactly the perfect, virginal, untouchable, chaste girl of his dreams. These photos are grainy, but the video is, well, much clearer."
Kelly Ann stammered some response, and then started to rise.
I put a hand on hers, smiled, and quietly whispered in her ear, "He doesn't need to know."
The girl looked relieved, then, seeing my smile, showed concern. "What do you want? Money? How much?"
I savored the moment, looking her directly in the eyes.
"No, Kelly, I want a little something money can't buy." She stared at me, shaking her head. She again stood, slapped my face, and stormed out of the coffee shop.
Opps, I scared her off. Maybe I had misread the situation. If she mentioned anything to Jackson I most likely would be on the receiving end of a whipping, no matter what the tape showed. The boy was a powder keg, and if he got something into his mind, well, nothing good would come of it.
I finished my coffee and sauntered out to my car, wondering if Kelly would seek help from her beau. Lost in my thoughts I didn't hear her car pull up beside mind. She rolled down her window, I mine, and the girl stared for a bit before startling me. "We can work something out. I know what you want, and it's possible, but I want the tape...no copies, nothing."
I had her! I thought for a few seconds, and then replied. "You need to know what I want. You can have the tape, but I have some specific needs, Kelly Ann."
"What do you want?"
I stared into her beautiful eyes. "I get a night in a hotel...we'll make love."
Kelly Ann digested the request, then countered. "I'm a virgin, so I will blow you, but that's it."
"That won't work, Kelly, sorry."
"You bastard," she spat.
"Yes I am, a bastard with concrete evidence. So we will do it my way or you get the highway from Jimmyboy. I can just see his parents faces when they see the tape."
Like two Army tanks facing each other, it appeared to be a stalemate. But after examining her options, Kelly Ann gave in to my demands. "Okay, but you have to be gentle. I'll do you, but it will be in my bed on my terms. Deal?"
"Deal, except for one other thing."
"What."
"We'll make love, and yes, Kelly, I will be gentle. But there's one more thing...I want a blow job on your wedding day. That's all. You get the tape, no copies will exist. I get what I want. No harm done. Deal?"
Again, she stared daggers at me. I could tell her mind was whirling.
"I am so disappointed in you, Jon, you are a real bastard," spat the girl. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I knew it was about me and it was not good.
"I'll call you."
Hum, it's great to be the King.
Over the next few weeks our paths rarely crossed, and when they did Kelly Ann would have a friend, friends or she was in the company of that bastard James around her. Throughout we never said a word. As the wedding date approached I began to have second thoughts about the arrangement. I imagined the young girl had enlisted help him obtaining the tape, or maybe having me meet someone's fist. I worried about arriving at her house only to be flogged by a trio of angry friends of Jackson and so forth and so on.
Maybe she called the cops. Maybe
Then, a week before the wedding, I received her call. No hello, no friendly greeting, the girl was all business.
"Here's the deal, my parents will be at the theater next Wednesday, and I will expect you to drop by at 8 sharp. Do not park near the house, and bring the tape and every single copy. You'll get your nut off, and we will be even."
I wasn't born yesterday.
"Whoa, just a minute, that sounds like a set-up to me. And I have no idea what tape you are talking about. Bye." Something told me she was recording the call, and I wasn't about to get caught in that trap.
Kelly Ann called back but I refused to answer until the third try.
"Yes?"
It was a more subdued Kelly Ann. "Please Jon..."
