This is just the second chapter in a longer story. For character background and storylines, please check out the earlier stories. I hope you enjoy.
I jumped in that old car and drove away down that manicured drive as fast as I could. I was excited, anxious and scared to death all at once.
Did that really happen? Did I really just get a blow job from Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn? Was I really crazy enough with lust and power to blackmail the richest, most powerful woman in town into sucking my dick?
Nearing town, I pulled into the McDonald's and parked. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. There, there was the evidence. Pictures 001-006. Each one showing her gripping my cock.
And each one showing her face covered in my cum. Her mouth open, her lips and tongue slightly redder that normal, no doubt from the blow job she had just given me.
Looking at those pictures made my cock swell again. That feeling of power, that feeling of absolute power at the moment of her surrender, when she had no choice but to obey my demands, was overwhelming.
Something about knocking that rich, beautiful, arrogant, stuck-up bitch off her pedestal was incredibly rewarding. Knowing how repulsed she was at what I made her do to me brought even more satisfaction.
And let's not forget that blow job itself. Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn could suck dick better than anyone I had had in my young life. Even better than Anita.
Ah, yes, Anita. The subject of my wet dreams and adolescent fantasies. Anita Patterson, the older woman who only would give me that one-time experience. I wanted to have so much more with her than she would allow.
But now there was Cooze-anne. She was just as old as Anita, physically prettier but with a much worse personality. Who cares about her personality? I wasn't going to marry her, only fuck her.
Both bodies were incredible. Anita's breasts were much bigger but Cooze-anne had better legs and a nicer ass.
And Cooze-anne was going nowhere anytime soon. These pictures on my phone would insure that. No, there were many more ways I wanted to use Cooze-anne before I was finished with her.
I put the phone away and drove home happily. It was quite the kick watching the news that evening, the little three minute blurb about the Mayor's fundraiser, seeing his beautiful wife in the pictures with him, her arm around him, smiling, knowing that only a few hours earlier my dick was in between those pretty, smiling lips.
This was shaping up to be a great summer. So great in fact, I decided to skip school the next semester. Mom and Dad were none too thrilled, but I had much more important things on my young, lust-filled mind. Like how I was going to approach Cooze-anne and what I wanted her to do next.
I kept my job at the dress shop as cover. Who knows? It was proving to be quite the hunting ground for my sexual conquests.
That's what Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn was, a conquest. I wasn't interested in anything other than using her for my own pleasure. The fact that I repulsed her made it even more enticing.
It also made it that much more scary. Her husband was rich and powerful. He was the Mayor. Every police man I saw was a potential threat to my well-being. All it took was one rogue cop who wanted career advancement and I could end up in the hospital.
And what about her boyfriend? I didn't know the first thing about that guy and he might want to play knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress.
At every turn was the potential for harm and disaster, but it only added to my excitement. I wasn't a kid anymore.
That first week I just kind of waited to see what repercussions there were to my little meeting with Mrs. Hawthorn. To my surprise, it was a week like any other.
'No,' I thought, 'she didn't tell anyone.' As each day passed, I was more certain that Mrs. Hawthorn kept our little encounter to herself. I smiled as I knew she was mine. All I had to do was set it up.
Now, for this to progress as I hoped it would, I knew I had to keep our relationship secret. As much as I wanted to humiliate her, bring her down to the level of all of us other 'commoners', I also knew that secrecy was the leverage. That, and those pictures.
Because if either ever became public knowledge, my upper hand was lost and we would be through. So, everything from here forward would have to be on the down-low, between only her and I, her dirty little secret and my hedonistic fantasies come-to-life.
I decided I needed to print off a few pictures to start things up. After all, this was going to be a battle and I better have some ammunition. I found three that I thought would get her attention.
One of that man with his hands between her legs and another of them kissing in the glass elevator, his hands under her skirt and groping her delicious ass. The third was a picture of my cock dangling above her face, a thread of cum dripping down, seeking her soft skin like the balance of that load
I printed them and placed them in a manila envelope with the name "Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn" written on the front. Then I printed a note telling her "Come to the dress shop tomorrow morning at 10:00. Bring your check book."
I knew where they lived but I was certain I'd get caught sneaking onto the Hawthorn estate. Instead, I parked my old car on the street and waited for her to drive out for the day.
It was hard to miss her. She drove a big, black Cadillac with gold trim. Pretentious, just like the owner. I followed that big Cadillac as it drove towards town.
Clearly, Cooze-anne was running a few errands. 'Perfect!' I thought. I followed her from stop to stop, always parking nearby. Today was a perfect summer day and she drove with the windows down to get some fresh air.
Stop after stop, I waited for my opportunity. Finally, she stopped at a local bakery in town and parked along the curb in front. Quickly, I gathered up the envelope and waited for her to go inside. Then, I walked along the sidewalk and nonchalantly tossed the envelope inside her car and onto the driver's seat.
I made my way immediately back toward my car, parked just enough around the corner that I could see her. I watched as she picked up the envelope and turned her head from side to side, searching for any indication of who left the package for.
I watched as she hesitantly opened the envelope. Her mouth immediately gaped open as she saw the first picture. She instantly looked around again, frantically from side to side, now searching for me.
Looking back down, she saw the second and then third pictures. Immediately, she read the note and I could see her turn white with fear. That fear soon was replaced by anger, her face and neck reddening by the second.
She fired up that Cadillac, slammed it in gear and pulled out into traffic, speeding off to fume over what had just happened. I laughed and drove back home.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough for me but it eventually did. I was even early for work today, bubbling with anticipation of what was about to happen. My cock was already beginning to swell.
Finally, in walked Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn. 10:00, right on time. Immediately, the floor staff at the store scattered, leaving only her and I.
As always, she was impeccably dressed. Today, she had on a light one-piece that clung just enough to her curves to make my cock throb in anticipation. Again, her hair and make-up were flawless and she would be an absolutely stunning woman if only she smiled occasionally.
Unfortunately, her presence in the store today was not one of those occasions. Once she spied me, she marched over, her lip curled in an almost undetectable snarl.
"Good Morning, Mrs. Hawthorn," I said loud and cheerily. "What can I do for you today?"
"First," she replied in a hushed, angry whisper, "you can knock off the pleasantries. I'm only here to pay you for those pictures and then I hope to never see your disgusting face again."
Smiling, I replied in an equally hushed, angry whisper, "You're going to do everything I tell you to do or those pictures end up with your husband, your lover's wife and the newspaper. Got it?"
Ignoring me, she reached into her purse for her check book. "How much is it going to take?" she angrily asked.
"Apparently, you don't get it," I replied. "You're here to buy a dress. The most expensive dress I can find."
"I don't need anything from this store ever again," she retorted. Her light blue eyes were cold as she glared at me, her pouty lips pursed in defiance.
Still smiling for the benefit of the employees peeking out of the backroom, I leaned forward and continued in a hushed voice, "I don't give a shit what you want or need. You're going to buy that dress and try it on. Otherwise, those pictures go out."
She looked at me, pissed off and confused, through glaring eyes. "Something nice and expensive, right Cooze-anne?" I added.
If she could have, she would have exploded right then and there. She started to visibly shake as I continued staring her down. Finally, she said, "Fine. What rag do you want me to buy?"
"Excellent! This way Ma'am," I said loudly. I took her back towards the designer evening gowns. There was something from Paris, a Dior original, that was in her size. Price tag: $5,000.
"I wouldn't give you 5 cents for this sack," she huffed under her breath.
Ignoring her, I said, "You'll look absolutely gorgeous in this Ma'am." "Of course you may try it on. The dressing rooms are this way."
She snatched the gown and made her way into the dressing room area. Fortunately, I had closed all of the doors except one. That room. The dressing room that Anita and I shared.
Seeing as no one was coming out from the back room just yet, I waited a few seconds and followed her into the dressing room. Standing, fully clothed, she stared at me in the full length mirror.
"What do you think you're doing?" she angrily asked. "Get the hell out of here before I scream and everyone comes running."
I stood with my back to the door and pulled out a folded paper from my back pocket. As I unfolded it, I said, "Now, Cooze-anne, we don't want to do that. I'd have to show this picture."
I held up the picture of her cum-streaked face as she jacked off my cock. "You're a pig!" she said through clenched teeth and in a harsh whisper. "What do you want?"
"What I want is for you to try on that dress," I said matter-of-factly.
