Sextortion (10 page)

Instinctively
caressing my clitoris with my fingertip, I closed my eyes,
revelling in the beautiful sensations. My thoughts returning to the
girl, her wet tongue, her hot mouth, I desperately tried to fight
the overwhelming urge to use the vibrator. No matter what I'd done
to the girl, the dreadful things she'd done to me, I couldn't
masturbate and sink further into the murky pool of iniquity.

But my
clitoris called, swelling beneath my caressing fingertip, beckoning
me, screaming for attention. What if Danny caught me? I pondered
fearfully. I listened for him as I ran my finger up and down my sex
crack, lubricating my erect clitoris with my copious juices of
arousal. Hearing him moving about in the room above, I gazed at the
vibrator, my mind torn, my hands trembling. Switching it on, it
buzzed softly, as if calling me. I was safe - I'd hear Danny if he
came downstairs.

Pressing the
pink tip against my clitoris, my body jolting as the beautiful
sensations permeated my quivering womb, I gasped. Never had I known
such pleasure, such wonderful sexual feelings. But what was I
doing? My husband upstairs while I masturbated with a vibrator in
the lounge... What had happened to me? Stifling my whimpers as my
clitoris swelled and pulsated, my mind blowing away, I didn't care
what had happened to me. I was discovering the pleasures of
masturbation, the amazing sensations my clitoris could bring
me.

Parting my
thighs further, I ran the tip of the vibrator around my throbbing
sex nodule, breathing deeply as my climax neared. My arousal
soaring, I recalled the girl's crude words. Fuck. Cunt. They
excited me, floating around my mind, teasing me, goading me. "Ah,
my cunt!" I breathed as my lust juices trickled from my vaginal
opening and ran down between my buttocks. "Fuck my cunt!"

Suddenly
gripped by the incredible sensations as my clitoris erupted in
orgasm, my body shaking violently, I threw my head back, gasping as
shockwaves of pleasure permeated my very being. On and on the
ecstatic waves emanated from my vibrating clitoris, transmitting
through my spasming vagina and travelling deep into my quivering
pelvis.

I thought my
climax would never end as my vaginal muscles rhythmically
contracted, squeezing out my creamy orgasmic juices. I'd do this
again, I decided. I'd keep the vibrator and use it when Danny
wasn't around. Slip my panties down and elicit wonderful orgasms
from my clitoris whenever I felt the need to come.

Need? I'd
never experienced the need for an orgasm before. I'd enjoyed sex
with Danny, the climaxes he'd brought me, but never had I craved an
orgasm. The girl had woken my latent desires, stirred something
within me that I'd not known existed. I was changing, but into
what? Crude lesbian sex, and now masturbating with a vibrator? What
was I becoming?

"Oh, yes! Ah,
my cunt!" I breathed as my orgasm peaked and then began to recede,
my distended clitoris pulsating beneath the tip of the vibrator.
"God, it's beautiful!" The last ripples of pleasure leaving me, I
switched the vibrator off and lay trembling on the sofa. My head
spinning, my juices oozing from my burning vaginal sheath, I
nonchalantly slipped the plastic shaft deep into my drenched sex
duct, arching my back as my muscles tightened around the
phallus.

"Selina!"
Danny called, bounding down the stairs. Pulling my skirt down,
concealing the vibrator embedded deep within my tight vagina, I
looked up as he opened the lounge door. "Selina, I... Are you OK?"
he asked concernedly.

"Yes, I... I
fell asleep," I lied, forcing a smile.

"Your face is
all red, love."

"I was on the
cushion, my face pressed against it. What did you want?"

"I was going
to ask you to have a look at my book. I need some advice."

"I'm not
really in the mood," I sighed, fearful for the inadequacy of my
vaginal muscles.

"Come on,
it'll only take a minute. And it'll take your mind off things."

"No, Danny.
Later, maybe."

"You can't sit
here brooding, love."

"I'm not
brooding, I'm thinking."

"What
about?"

"About going
away for a few days, maybe a week."

"What about
your book? I thought you were going to..."

"I don't want
to talk about the book, Danny. I don't want to talk about the book,
the girl, the sex... I'm going up to bed."

"Oh, all
right. I'll plod on by myself."

"I'll take a
look at it tomorrow."

Once he'd
gone, I parted my thighs and slipped the glistening phallus out of
my drenched vagina, pondering on the wonderful orgasm the device
had brought me. I had to throw it outside in the bin, I knew as I
left the room. If I kept it I'd use it every day, several times a
day - and I didn't want that. I didn't want to become a
nymphomaniac!

In the kitchen
I hovered by the back door, but I couldn't do it. Gazing at the
glinting piece of eroticism in my trembling hand, my new, pink and
most feminine friend, I knew I couldn't dispose of it. I had no
choice - I was hooked. It would become a good companion, an
intimate friend, I pondered as I climbed the stairs to the bedroom,
clutching the wet phallus. It would be my secret, hidden beneath my
pillow - my forever secret.

In bed, I
curled up beneath the quilt, the desire to vibrate my erect
clitoris to a massive orgasm overwhelming. But I needed to sleep.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, my hand beneath the pillow, clutching
the soft, pink shaft. Tomorrow, when Danny wasn't around, I'd
masturbate again - and again, and again, and...

In the
morning, I left Danny sleeping and took a shower. Massaging the
soap into my vaginal folds, my ripening clitoris, I became highly
aroused, tempted to use the vibrator - but no. I had to remain in
control of my uncharacteristic sexual desires, ration my orgasms.
If I allowed my craving to masturbate to get the better of me...
The thought frightened me.

Leaving the
bathroom without bothering to dress, I crept downstairs. Another
day, more blackmail, more sex... The events of yesterday playing on
my mind as I stood in the kitchen gazing at my elongated nipples,
my nakedness excited me. Picturing the girl sucking and biting my
milk teats, recalling the wondrous sensations, I took a deep breath
and filled the kettle.

I had to drag
my thoughts away from sex, drive all thoughts of lesbian pleasure
and masturbation from my racked mind. Sex? I hadn't had sex with
Danny for weeks. Did I want sex with him? I thought not. I had my
vibrator, I didn't need Danny. Did I need the girl?

Pouring my
tea, I suddenly realized how horrendous the situation was. Like
waking from a dream, the harsh reality hit me that I was being
blackmailed, that I'd paid the girl ten thousand pounds, that I'd
watched Danny screw her, allowed her to lick and finger me to
orgasm. The sex, the tremendous orgasms, had somehow numbed my mind
to the reality of my predicament. What had the useless private
detective done? I wondered as I sipped my tea. What the hell was
anyone doing about the girl and the thugs? Nothing!

Again, I felt
desperately alone and pondered on calling the police. But with the
photograph of the girl's fist embedded deep inside my vagina as she
licked between my sex lips, I was in no position to do anything. I
was at her mercy, at her beck and call, and it suddenly struck me
that I was effectively her sex slave!

Aside from me, how was the situation affecting Danny? I
wondered. Again, I recalled his words.
What's this going to do to our relationship?
In my confusion I pondered on offering the girl
sex as and when she wanted it on the condition that she demanded no
more money. But her boss was demanding money, not her. He had the
incriminating photographs and knew nothing about the continuing
sex. That was between the girl and me.

What would she
do if I were to deny her more sex? I mused. She could hardly
complain to her boss! There again, she might cause trouble.
Besides, sex with her was... God knew what it was! Never in a
million years would I have envisaged myself in a lesbian
relationship!

"Oh, no
clothes!" Danny grinned as he entered the kitchen dressed in his
suit.

"I've just had
a shower," I smiled, wondering what he thought of my naked body.
"Why are you all dressed up?"

"I'm going to
London to see a literary agent."

"When did you
arrange that?"

"I wasn't
going to say anything, but I sent the synopsis to them and they
want to see me."

"That's great,
Danny!"

"Yes, it is.
They've read the first few chapters and they want to see the rest.
I was up half the night printing it out. Anyway, I'm going to take
the next train."

"What about
breakfast?"

"I'll find
somewhere to eat in London; I don't want to be late for the
meeting."

"Oh, right.
Well, good luck."

"Thanks. If I
can get this book published, I'll be able to contribute
financially."

"Contribute to
paying the girl?"

"I've one or
two ideas about the girl which I'll tell you about later. Unless I
go now, I'll miss the train. I'll be home this afternoon."

"OK, see you
later."

As he left the
house, I felt relieved. It wasn't that I didn't want him around, I
just needed time alone, time to think. Poor Danny, rushing off to
an agent clutching his manuscript! It suddenly occurred to me that,
should he become published, then he'd be blackmailed too. They had
photographs of him screwing the girl and... Success brought nothing
but problems, it seemed, and I found myself hoping that they'd
reject his book.

All I'd worked
for, all Danny had been striving for... And we'd ended up in this
horrendous bloody mess! Again, I wondered how on earth we'd got
ourselves into this situation. We should never have paid the first
five thousand, but what use was hindsight? The evil bastards had
led me carefully down the path to my defilement, taken me step by
step until they'd got enough on me to ruin me. I'd been stupid,
incredibly naive. Answering the phone, I was pleased to hear
Chrissy's cheerful voice.

"Shouldn't you
be at work?" I asked.

"I'm just
about to leave. Have you done anything about my idea?"

"No, I
haven't."

"Why not? I
thought you were going to tell that girl where to get off."

"Things have
developed, Chrissy - things have changed. It's a long story."

"Look, I
haven't got the time to talk now. I'll ring you this evening."

"All
right."

"You are OK,
aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm OK.
I'll talk to you this evening."

Wandering
through the hall into the lounge, I gazed at the sofa, the white
stains on the cushion, wondering what Chrissy would think when I
told her what I'd done. Far from OK, I was in such a bloody mess
that I didn't know which way to turn! It was all right for Danny.
Off to London with his bloody manuscript, it was all right for him!
I supposed it wasn't fair to say that. The nightmare was affecting
him as much as it was me.

First things first, I decided - get dressed, clean the
cushion, do some housework, and then try to get down to the bloody
book. Before, I'd been so eager to write, so keen to get to my desk
and work. Now it was
the bloody
book
. Things change, I reflected. Nothing
lasts.

As I was about
to go upstairs to dress, the phone rang. This was my chance to tell
the tart that the publisher didn't want another book! She'd tell
her boss and, if he believed it... One step at a time.

"Hi!" she
trilled. "How are you this morning?"

"What do you
want?" I snapped.

"Another five
thousand pounds."

"There is no
more money, you've taken it all."

"Of course
there's more."

"They don't
want another book. The first one's died a death and..."

"Now, now,
Selina - stop telling lies."

"I'm not
lying, they don't want another bloody book."

"In that case,
my boss will give the photographs to a journalist he knows and...
Well, that'll be curtains for you."

"It's not my
fault that they don't want another bloody book!"

"Maybe not,
but... I'll tell you what, I'll have a word with my boss. He's a
reasonable chap, he might..."

"Reasonable?
How the hell can you say that?"

"Leave it with
me, Selina. I'll get back to you."

Perhaps it
would work, I reflected as I hung up. Have a word with her boss?
Yes, he might believe it and... What if he rang the publisher? I
pondered. What if Danny called Tammy and asked her about it?
Grabbing the phone, I rang Tammy and told her that the book was
coming on well, but I wanted to keep it under wraps for the moment.
Readily agreeing, she suggested that we launch the second book with
a bang, taking the media by surprise.

"Thank God for
that!" I breathed as I replaced the receiver. At last, I might find
a way out of the bloody mess. Of course, if and when the book was
published, the girl would come at me with her threats again. But at
least it would give me time to plan. To plan what, I had no idea,
but time would be on my side.

Feeling
positive, I spent the morning cleaning the house. I decided to cook
a really nice meal for Danny that evening and make a start on
rebuilding our marriage. The vibrator played on my mind as I
cleaned the sofa cushion, but I managed to deny my yearning for an
orgasm, keeping myself busy for as long as I could.

When the
doorbell rang at midday, I initially thought that Danny had
forgotten his key. Opening the door, dying to ask him how he'd got
on, I wasn't surprised to see the girl - but shocked as I focused
on the young man standing beside her. Her boss? I speculated as
they stepped into the hall. Had he believed my story and come to do
a deal with me? A thousand thoughts flooding my mind, I prayed for
my plan to work.