Josh sat longer in his car than he’d been expecting, as he waited down the road from the Lyndon family home. Maybe the girl’s parents were kicking up a fuss on discovering that she had other plans than working out her notice at the restaurant. If her dad had seen the outfit into which she’d been instructed to change, he might be taking issue. “While you’re living under my roof, you’re not going out dressed like that, young lady.” That was the kind of things fathers said to their daughters, right?
It occurred to him momentarily that she might cave in a moment of desperation and tell them what was happening—“I’m being blackmailed …”—along with lots of wretched sobs. For a moment he couldn’t quite believe it, the notion of himself cast in the role of evil blackmailer, though he’d fantasised about it since the Blue Nile evening. It seemed wonderfully wicked in an old-school moustache-twirling kind of way, until of course you got caught and exposed. Then you’d be pilloried as a sleazy pervert. The thought shook him, but he imposed calm upon his nerves, assuring himself that all was safe. There was no way this girl would say a word to her parents, having cheated on her nice-guy boyfriend, showing up naked and brazen on a sex tape. She’d be especially discreet after his stern parting words to her:
“You breathe a word of this and your bouncing tits will become an internet sensation. Understand?”
Her nod had been meek, her eyes sorrowful. That look had stung his conscience and rendered his cock like steel, both effects enhanced by the proximity to her parents’ home. He was stealing her away from right under Mummy and Daddy’s noses to debauch her in ways they’d never believe. The thought appalled and thrilled at the same time. He shored up his resolve in preparation for her return; this thing was set in motion and he would damn well see it through. No cracks visible in his bad-guy persona.
His phone vibrated and he checked the incoming text. MINOR CHANGE OF PLAN. BRING HER TO NINE, ROSEWOOD APARTMENTS, ARCADIA STREET, PUTNEY. THE TEACHER’S FALLEN IN LINE. GET THE STUDENT ALL PREPPED. STAY FOCUSED BUT HAVE FUN WITH HER.
Josh’s pulse increased. Everything was locking into place in a way that he’d feared might somehow not happen. New venue—what was that about? He assumed Gavin had his reasons and fed the details into his satnav. He’d barely finished when Christina arrived at the passenger side, making him start inwardly with excitement. She had on a black knee-length coat and was wrapping it around her protectively as she opened the door.
“Go on,” he said, stalling her with a hand on the inside door-grip. “Give me a quick glimpse.”
Christina paused at the door, harried and preoccupied. Then with a frown she pulled open the coat, providing him with a shot of what he had demanded—the stretchy black mini-dress which clung to every curve of her body. It was spaghetti-strapped and it just about managed to contain her bountiful tight-squeezed breasts; they looked like they were struggling to burst free at every move she made. Yes, it was exactly as he had remembered it from the Renard’s summer party. She had giggled that night with her fellow-waitresses in nervous pleasure at how daring her costume was, Josh remembered. Now the smile was replaced with a resentful pout and she was no less sexy for it.
“Happy?” she said, folding the coat tightly around herself once more and sliding into the passenger seat.
“For now,” he replied, exulting silently. “Put your seat-belt on.”
“I trusted you,” she mumbled bitterly as she clicked the belt into place.
“Yeah, like your boyfriend trusted you, naughty girl,” he said with a grin, having kept the line in reserve for when she got too lippy.
It shut her up as he’d expected it would. She sat mute and red-faced as he started up the car. Then she blurted out, “Josh, what’s my teacher doing, involved in this?”
“The lovely Miss Winter?” So she’d found out about that part—the next bit of fun would be filling her in on the details. He reached for his tablet to illustrate. “She’s been naughty too,” he told her, exchanging one disc for another in the drive. “Seems that both your indiscretions have been caught on camera. What a bad pair of girls you are. Want to take a look at teacher fucking?”
“No. No, I don’t.” She sounded satisfyingly panicked at the thought.
“Go on,” he urged, as he operated the drive and it whirred into life. “You know you want to. Take a good look, see if you can tear your eyes away.” He set the tablet in her lap and watched her face as the screen lit up with the disc’s lewd footage. Her expression of jaw-dropped surprise was priceless. Josh’s cock throbbed as the pretty teenager absorbed the sight—her favourite teacher naked before her gaze and fucking like a high-class hooker. The girl was speechless, drinking in the images like she was witness to an impossible thing. She turned her head to stare at him, still open-mouthed, eyes registering deepest confusion.
“Didn’t you know your teacher’s done porn?” he said, unable to resist the tease.
“What? No she hasn’t. That’s … That’s …”
“You can see for yourself. She’s taking dick like a trooper. And check that out.” He pointed to the screen. “I mean, you suck cock like an angel, Christina, but that woman’s a solid-gold pro. Look at her fucking go. She could suck golf balls through a hosepipe.” He’d always been amused by that phrase and in Amanda’s case it seemed particularly apt. Christina looked back at the screen as extravagant wet sucking emanated from the tablet. “Thought she was above that, did you? Afraid not. Once she’s out of her teacher togs, your Miss Winter is an even naughtier slut than you are. I don’t say that as a criticism, you understand, I admire it. I like a girl who knows how to enjoy herself and I think she should be free to admit to it.”
Christina still could not break her gaze; Josh could only guess at the level of mind-fuck the girl was undergoing. His conscience should have been stinging him, but all he felt was an unprecedented level of horny. “But she’s … she’s engaged,” the waitress mumbled.
“She’s engaged to get fucked,” he said, “by a man who knows how to do it. Just like you’re due to get fucked by me.” He switched off the tablet and tossed it with an assumed casualness into the back seat. It landed beside the mini rucksack which he had packed carefully in preparation for the evening ahead. “You’re both going to get your come-uppance tonight, a proper come-uppance that’s going to get you off. A lot, I’m guessing.”
“How can you say that?” She stared at him, wide-eyed and desperate. “What you’re doing is … it’s horrible!”
He reached beneath her coat and slid a palm onto her warm smooth thigh, below the hem of her dress. “What’s horrible about it?” He kneaded her flesh softly and her breath quickened under his touch, face flushing in parallel. “You love fucking, you and teacher. I mean real fucking—hard and dirty and full-on. You both took time out from your boyfriends so you could get some. Tonight’s more of the same, that’s all.”
Christina fought for words. She was quivering under the deft insistence of his touch, fingertips gliding up her dress to the subtly widening junction between her legs. “I chose to do it last time. Now you’re … you’re making me.”
“I’m making you do what you already want to do, Christina. What every atom in you is longing for, even though you’ve been fighting it. I can feel it running through your whole body. You’re going to love this, you naughty slut.”
“You made a tape of me,” she whimpered as his middle finger found the crotch of the tiny thong into which he’d told her to change. It was gratifyingly moist. “That’s … That’s a disgusting thing to … to …” A moan escaped her.
“Yes, but it’s hot too, you can’t deny it. And it’ll stay our secret, I promise, as long as you do every nasty fucking thing you’re told tonight.” His finger slipped inside the silk of her delicate panty and he found what he was looking for. “Which, from how wet you are, will not be a problem.”
Christina’s eyes welled as they stared into his. Her lower lip trembled. Her body was quaking visibly now under influence of his touch. “Can we go?” she said. “Get away from my parents’ house?”
He smiled. “Mum and Dad wouldn’t believe what their pretty girl’s going to be getting up to tonight. Shocked wouldn’t begin to describe how they’d react to all your naughty naked antics and how much you’ll enjoy them. And of course they needn’t ever know. That’s up to you.”
He withdrew his hand from her and left her sitting in silence. The engine’s rumble as he ignited it was accompaniment to his racing excitement. He’d had time to plan for this night and the prospect was beyond mouth-watering. He pressed ‘play’ on his stereo and out poured the dubstep mix he had prepared for the journey; its insistent rhythm and filthy looped vocals would be perfect backing for the drive. Give her plenty to think about if she didn’t have enough already. Josh pulled away from the kerb, cock straining against the fabric of his trousers as he drove towards the realisation of his most outlandish fantasy.
~~~~
Christina did not notice much about the journey. There was a backing of syncopated dance rhythms with occasional female vocals, some girl or other urging a partner to use her shamelessly, the sentiments strewn with the word ‘fuck’. She did not even know where they were headed, as her blackmailer wove them through London’s early evening traffic, other than to a very specific kind of party. They would be together again, her and Josh, like that Friday night weeks before. Like it, only different. This time her choice did not play a part—her struggle to be faithful to Gabriel was rendered moot. She was being corralled into living out her night of betrayal all over again, only this time with added spectators and God knew what else. And one of the other party-goers was her teacher.
Even with Josh preparing her for the big reveal, she had not immediately recognised the woman in the film. Amanda Winter was normally the soul of calm and self-possession. Sexy, yes, but in an understated kind of way. Whatever she chose to share of her sensual self was with her lover and fiancé in secret—that’s what Christina would have assumed before tonight. The ‘Mandy Summers’ photo-shoot which the schoolgirl had accessed online, had happened years ago in a whole different lifetime. And that had been a bit of naughtiness in a gradually departing lime-green bikini, not full-frontal hardcore depravity.
The image felt seared into her retinas—Miss Winter riding cock the way Christina had done, with her hair scattered about her sweating face and her spectacular body all on show. Loving every depraved second with filth pouring out of her mouth about some girl she’d like to fuck! Her teacher swung both ways, then? Oh God … No inhibition, no sense of reticence before the camera. Then next she had her mouth wrapped around a cock at least as huge as Josh’s, maybe even bigger. And she’d been gobbling it like it was one of the bratwursts they’d eaten at The Oktoberfest, gluttonous excitement in her eyes. Christina’s beautiful mentor transformed into a demented porn-slut and the student made to watch it all. The bikini strip-show around the fountain had made her feel voyeur enough; she had logged off that session with hormonal confusion buzzing all around her body. But this … this had flung her into a deeper turmoil than she could cope with.
Josh had been making up the porn-shoot stuff to screw with her, surely. Maybe it had been the amateur variety … Maybe Amanda had been making the tape with Rob, the guy she was going to marry and it had somehow fallen into the wrong hands. But Christina knew immediately that was nonsense. Her teacher had been trapped exactly the same way she had—some kind of double plot. They were both victims, having fallen prey to Josh and one of his friends, or …
A face swam into her mental vision straight from the restaurant evening—that tall strapping man, Josh’s uncle, the one who had thrown her school friends into such a flap. He’s gorgeous! Oh God, he’d have you for breakfast. Serious older man alert! The thought of that imposing figure terrified her, so she resorted to thinking of how Miss Winter would have him under control if he were there. She’d certainly shown no fear if that had been him in the film. She could take the brunt of … of anything he had to give.
Amanda had done the same thing as Christina, made the same mistake. The longer the journey progressed, the more comfort Christina took in that thought. They were in this awful situation together, she and her teacher, both ensnared due to their weakness for hot, unrestrained sex. Her thoughts wandered to how hard her driver’s cock might be at that moment and what he might be planning on doing with it, and she fought to divert her mind somewhere else. Only there was nothing else to think about than the swirl of awful panty-soaking possibilities that the next hours might entail. Damn him, and damn whoever was in this with him. This shouldn’t be happening, none of this.
How you gonna fuck me? the vocalist on the stereo asked, her voice dripping with lascivious enjoyment. Bend me down and fuck me – fuck me – fuck me – fuck me –
“Nearly there.” Christina froze in her seat at the sound of Josh’s voice. He was steering into a wide backstreet full of newly completed homes with ‘For Sale’ signs outside. “Down here …” He slowed and checked his phone for further details. “A couple of hundred yards on the right. You see your teacher’s car?”
She did and it delivered another shock to her that this was real. “Over there. The blue Citroen.” There was space behind and he parked, removing the music disc from the player. He walked around to let her out in a fashion so gentlemanly it was perverse. She swung from the car with her coat wrapped tight and glowered in response to the pleasantness of his smile as he locked the car. He had taken a bulging mini-rucksack from the back seat and was bringing it with him; God knew what it contained. She clipped along beside him in her heels to the pair of forged-iron gates and watched with dread as they parted in response to the digits he had jabbed on the panel, the details relayed to him via his phone.
“Party time,” he said, ushering her through.
The pristine lawn and fresh modern architecture of the apartment complex were wasted on her as she made her way with him to the venue. All that occupied her mind was what might be expected of her once she stepped inside. Josh led her through the door to the first building, upstairs and along a corridor, still following the directions texted to him. He rapped at the door to apartment nine, seemingly as preoccupied as she was. Her mind flitted to Gabe and her parents and her fellow workers at Renard’s, all going about innocent pursuits while she was here, dressed up like a fuck-doll … and about to be used as one. Christina’s mind reeled at all that might unfold the other side of that door.
Then it opened and he stood there—massive yet trim, gorgeous yet utterly terrifying. He smiled in greeting, the essence of wickedness in casual slacks and an open-necked shirt. Her breath caught as his dark eyes stared deep into hers.
“Christina, good evening. I was delighted when Josh told me you’d decided to join us. Please, do come in.”
Oh Jesus …
What choice had she?
~~~~
“Good to see you, Gav.”
“Likewise. I hope you two had a pleasant drive over here.”
“Oh, it was interesting. Christina here fell a bit quiet.”
“Did she? Well my guess is she’ll liven up once the evening’s properly underway.”
Josh grinned and checked out his date’s disconcerted frown. He deposited the rucksack behind the room’s sofa, its contents to be brought into operation as appropriate. Then he found himself at a loss as to how the moment should be played. His older, wiser relative, however, exhibited no such hesitation; he was ushering Christina inside like it was a regular dinner party, introducing himself with suave assurance in someone else’s home.
“I’m Gavin,” the experienced player told the girl. “We met briefly at the restaurant a few weeks back, perhaps you don’t remember.”
“I … Yes, I do.” Oh she remembered, that much was clear, eyes held by his stare as he shook her hand, however much her words faltered.
“You’re every bit as attractive as I recalled, my dear. Please come through to the lounge. I hope you don’t mind me receiving you somewhere other than my own apartment.”
“I … This is fine, it’s lovely,” Christina said, as she was steered from the hallway into a tastefully dressed living-space, all creams and browns with soft furnishings to match. Not the masculine chic of his uncle’s place, but a perfectly adequate backdrop to debauchery. Soft jazz piano was playing on the stereo. It would do for now as a soundtrack.
“It’s not my choice,” Gavin said, looking around at the ambient-lit room, its blinds drawn against the autumnal dusk. “But my other guest wanted somewhere shall we say ‘neutral’ for our evening.” The ‘other guest’ had been seated on a sofa, but rose on their entrance. Even in a belted man’s greatcoat and with an expression like thunder, Amanda Winter...
