Getting Even
It had been one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to me. Now, standing on the fringe of a group of my brother's pretentious friends and hearing my sister-in-law repeat the story for their amusement, was even worse. Buffy loved to do little things that put me down in front of others. It was as if she had to point out to them that she’d made the right choice in dumping me, and taking up with my brother. He's the big shot entrepreneur, and I'm just the klutz ... the fuck up. She, of course, is the one who almost picked the wrong brother, but didn't. The next thing she'd be telling their friends was that my cock is shorter too, I thought.
Five minutes later, when I'd returned from getting myself a beer, her little circle of groupies looked my way and laughed out loud, just as I heard her say,”It's true. I swear. What can I say? Their mother called the wrong one Dick.” She was a real stand-up comic, but I was getting tired of being the brunt of her sarcasm. We'd had words about it before but she’d gotten really nasty. She as much as told me that my brother had just given me a job because he felt sorry for me, and that that could end real fast if she gave him the word. She reminded me that if I didn't like it, I could take a hike.
The sting of being embarrassed still lingered in my gut when I saw Buffy a few days later. I was twenty miles from home in a neighboring town picking up a tendering package from their municipal offices. There she was, scooting along the main street like she was going to a fire. I knew I didn't want to face her so I just hung back to see where she was going in such a rush. I followed her into an out-of the-way bar and watched from a distance while she slipped into a booth next to a guy I'd never seen before. Whoever he was, he damn sure wasn't my brother. They were obviously more than just friends. His tongue was half way down her throat on the first kiss and his hand ran up her leg and squeezed her ass cheeks like he'd been there before. As soon as she got seated, Buffy was nestled into his arms and rubbing herself against him like a horny cat. They ordered drinks but didn't even stay long enough to finish them.
Fifteen minutes later they were tucked in at a sleazy little local motel making enough noise that I could hear them right through the door.
It was almost four o'clock before she returned to her car. She didn't see me at first, so it startled her when my old Mustang slid into the spot beside her deep blue
Mercedes.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. “Aren't you supposed to be working?”
“Oh, I was just picking up the tapes from your motel room,” I smiled, indicating the generic brown envelope on the seat beside me. It was the tendering documents, but she didn't know that. First her face went blank and then she was leaning back against the car like the world was coming to end. Several times she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. There was anguish in her eyes as they searched my face for some escape, some shred of hope that would release her from her predicament.
“I wasn’t...” she stammered and then stopped.
“Yes you were Buffy,” I smiled confidently and patted the package beside me. “And it's all on tape.”
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and her face contorted in wretchedness. “I was just ... breaking it off...” she whined, her voice trailing as she realized the pointlessness of her excuse.
A long silence ensued while she pressed her forehead to her clenched fist and wept. Surprisingly, they were real tears and it was true remorse that she felt. She eventually turned her pleading eyes on me looking for some sympathy, but I just arched my eyebrows, smiled and patted the brown paper envelope. I really wanted to tell her my compassion was as short as my dick but I didn't want humor to diminish her suffering.
Arrangements were made for her to follow me on the short trip back. She wanted to talk, negotiate right there in the parking lot, but I didn't. Desperate and frustrated at having no indication of what I was going to do, she begged me not to tell my brother. In her desolation she blurted out “I'll do anything.”
To which I replied, “Yes, you will.”
To further underscore seriousness of her situation, I made her take off her panties right there in the parking lot and give them to me. The next day I didn't phone her at all. Several times she tried to call through to me but I wouldn't take her call. When I got home from work she was parked outside my apartment, waiting. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days and the puffiness around her eyes was definitely from crying.
She strode into my apartment like she owned it, and me, and laid it on the line. Her first approach was the old bluff. Confidant, arrogant, and demanding, she told me that she'd brought two thousand dollars cash and that I was to turn over the tape to her and never speak of it again. “Give me the tape,” she said, “And keep your mouth shut and you won't have a problem. If you ever again raise the subject again, no one will believe you and your brother will side with me.” Then she stood there with her hands on her hips, looking down her nose at me like I was some vile child who had offended her.
With a little smirk, I matter-of-factly said, ”Take off your clothes.”
“There's no way in hell,” she blustered, but her self-assurance didn't ring true. She looked uncomfortable for a moment, her eyes darting here and there to avoid contact with mine. Finally, she sighed deeply, looking down at her hands and playing with her fingers. “'Look, ...er, if two thousand isn't enough, I'll get more... It, ah, ...just takes time.”
Her face lit up with victory when I said, ”$2,000 is OK, just put on the coffee table.” Arrogantly, she tossed the money on the coffee table, and held out her hand. “Now, give me the damn tape.” Sensing victory, she added confidently, “And, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Picking up the money, and slipping it into my pocket, I repeated, “Take off your clothes,”
Looking at me like I was crazy, she stammered incoherently for a couple of minutes, and then snapped, ”All right! But you're only going to fuck me once and then the deal is over. You'll give me the tape,” she declared emphatically. Angrily, her hands began to unfasten her clothes.
”Do it slow,” I instructed as I put a CD into the machine and secretly switched on my hidden camcorder. It wouldn’t hurt to actually have tapes. “I want you to strip for me like an expensive whore.”
Not at all happy with the scene, she nonetheless began a slow, self-conscious dance. Her blouse went first and her hands trembled as they contended with the small buttons. I couldn't believe that she actually blushed when she faced me in her brassiere. Still moving too quickly, she reached behind to unfasten her skirt but I stopped her. “Slow down and take your time. Show off your breasts a bit. Shake them for me and let me see you feel them up. Then lift your skirt and give me a little preview of what's under there. Remember, you're not just a cheap piece of meat. You're a piece of prime cunt.”
A few minutes later her bra and skirt had joined her blouse on the floor. She wore no stockings and her tanned legs looked great sticking out of the openings in her white panties. Her shapely breasts swayed tantalizingly, the nipples standing out like acorns, as she moved to the music. Resigned to her fate, there were no more pauses where I had to tell her what to do next. She rolled her panties down to the fringe of her pubic hair and rocked her hips provocatively just like any strip joint slut would do. The black pelt of tangled curls that I had loved so much peeked above the elastic waistband capturing my eyes and mesmerizing my cock. Smiling knowingly at the bulge in the front of my trousers, Buffy thought she was back in control now. Her hand disappeared into her front of her panties and she humped against it. Not eighteen inches from my face she slipped her panties down onto her thighs and jiggled her naked pussy at me. As the scent that I'd all but forgotten filled the air, I grinned to myself, know that she was wet. Using both hands she smoothed back the curly black pubic hair and framed her cunt lips. She edged forward with her undulating hips lifted toward my face. “Is this what little Dickie wants?” she hissed smugly.
I reached out to her flaunted treasure and gripped a large patch of her pubic hair between my thumb and forefinger. She winced as I cruelly twisted and tugged hard on it forcing her up onto her tiptoes. “You're not in any position to give me attitude, bitch,” I reminded her. “One word from me and my brother won't want you around anymore. One look at the tapes and he'll throw you penniless out on your pretty little ass.”
The smugness had gone out of her by the time I relinquished my grip. My hands pressing down on her shoulders signaled her to her knees. Tentatively her fingers ran up my thigh until they circled my cock through my slacks. Nervously, she unfastened my belt, lowered my zipper and tugged my hardon into view. She'd sucked it before; when we were going together, but she'd never let me cum. I slid my own pants down and stepped out of them. With her head against my thigh, I rubbed my cock all over her face, taking extra time around her nose and lips. She didn't balk when I told her to lick my balls. I watched with amusement as her pointed, pink tongue bathed each testicle.
Buffy gagged as I slipped my cock into her mouth, and pushed to the back of her throat. It seemed ironic to me to think that she'd ridiculed me for having a small cock and now she was choking on it. With every rough stroke I wanted to hear her gag. As I got close I wound my fingers tightly into her hair. I hoped she still disliked cum in her mouth because I was about to fill her up. The first spurt hit the back of her throat and she panicked, but my iron grip on her hair held her head in place while the next jet all but filled her mouth forcing her to swallow. I had just pulled back slightly, so the engorged head of my cock was just inside her lips when my cum surged over her tongue again. At this point it was so sensitive that it was all I could do to stand the intensity. With a thrust of my hips, I pushed back until I felt the head hit the back of her throat and held on tight until my surging orgasms subsided. I could feel her throat contract each time she swallowed. As I relaxed and released her hair, she started to move away until I told her to stay and clean it all up. Reluctantly, her head dutifully bobbed up and down over my rapidly softening cock as she licked and sucked the remnants of my cum off. For several minutes I watched the top of her head moving against me and felt the softness of her tongue on my sated prick. Then she sat back on her heels and looked forlornly up at my face.
“You aren't going to give me the tapes are you?” she asked.
“Not until I'm good and ready,” I confessed.
“When will that be?” she whispered pitifully.
”When you're no longer of any sexual interest to me.”
“Will you at least keep my secret?” she implored.
“From my brother? Yes,” then I paused and gave her a nasty leer, “But from my friends, no.”
The idea clearly distressed her. For a moment she sat twisting her hands in her lap. Then with a pleading she whispered, “You wouldn't let them…” she began and then stopped.
”Of course,” I snickered. “That's what friends are for.”
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