C13 (1)

I don't consider myself an evil person. I don't go out of my way to cause trouble for myself or anyone else. But when the occasion arises, I like jerking people around as much as anybody. Especially if it's somebody who's not used to it.

My opportunity came to pass during the Christmas shopping season. It was the last weekend before Christmas and the malls were packed. The snow was really coming down and driving was treacherous. I wouldn't have even been out if I wasn't such a laggard when it came to Christmas shopping.

I was cruising the far end of a parking lot looking for ANY open spot. When I finally saw one, I headed for it as quickly as my balding tires would let me. I slid into the opening feeling as though half the day's battle had been won.

I shut off the engine and grabbed my purse. That's when I noticed the silver Lexus SUV pulling out of the aisle ahead of me. I guess I stared at it longer than I normally would because I dream of the day I can afford something like that. But, also, the dude driving it caught my eye.

He was a very good-looking guy around forty...maybe thirty five...with the appearance of a young executive, or attorney. OK, so I fantasize about these things. I just wanted to be in the seat next to him. Is that a crime?

I watched him pull out, ready to get out of my car and back into reality. Then I heard a crunch and shattering glass. The SUV stopped for a moment and I saw the guy look in his mirror. He had backed right into the front of a beat up old Pontiac, taking out the headlight and putting a good dent in the fender.

The guy looked around and, to my surprise, began to pull away. I had noticed the vanity plate on the front of his car when he pulled out of the parking spot. I confirmed it was on the back of his car as he sped away and imbedded it in my mind.

Once the SUV had disappeared and I felt safe, I got out and headed for the stores. My mind was working the entire time I shopped.

By the time I got home, the plan was complete. My friend Julie at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles owed me big time for setting her up with the football player at my college. She'd be able to give me the name of the dude in the SUV as well as the owner of the car he hit. From there, a Google search would give me most of what I needed.

The driver of the SUV was Robert Dunn, VP of Communications at a local industry. Am I good or what? And apparently Mr. Dunn had problems with his insurance company or the law to run from a simple parking lot accident. It didn't really matter—the fact was I knew something he didn't want somebody else to know.

There are different levels of power. This was REAL power.

I decided to write him a letter to initiate the proceedings. I'd start out slowly.

Mr. Dunn: That's a really nice SUV you have. Too bad about that little dent after backing into the Pontiac. Love your plates, by the way. IMDUNN. Cute. Anyway, did you know the owner of that car is a construction worker with a family to feed? I bet he's pissed and would love to know who hit him. Don't you agree? Well, let me get to my point. I'm willing to let this whole thing slide if you are willing to do some things for me. If not...well, that might lead to some consequences. So to prove you would rather deal with ME, I would like you to drive your pretty SUV down Vine Street between 5th and 21st at exactly twelve noon on Monday. If you do, I'll send you the next letter. If not...

I wouldn't have been too surprised if he didn't follow my orders. But, in fact, he DID drive past my building at the appointed time. From my third floor window I could clearly make out the handsome driver. My heart raced knowing that this guy must really want me to NOT do anything with the knowledge I had.

It was time to raise the bar on my demands.

Mr. Dunn: It was so nice to see you again on Monday. I think it's time we get to know each other a little better. To start, I'd like you to send me a picture of you. You should be naked and hard. Be creative with how you get there and what you do after taking the picture is totally up to you. Send the pic to the post office box in the return address. Don't bother staking it out, either. I have a friend in the post office that brings my special mail to me. I'm so excited!

Three days later the letter arrived in a manila folder delivered to my home address by sweet Tony, an old friend who would do anything for me in exchange for a blow job. This long-term job would require a fuck, he told me. I quickly agreed. We both won.

I anxiously opened the letter and pulled out a single four by six photo. It was a good thing I was sitting on my bed because what I saw made my knees weak. Mr. Robert Dunn was naked, standing in a bedroom. His muscular body far exceeded my expectations. This guy was BUILT.

And his cock...Oh my God, his cock was awesome. It pointed out and up like a tree limb, thick and strong. The head was huge. Veins clearly showed in the picture as blood pulsed through them. I wanted him inside me so bad.

I sat on the couch and put a hand inside my jeans while holding the picture. By the time my fingers reached my pussy it was already damp. I pulled the hand back out and quickly opened my jeans, then pulled down the zipper. This time my fingers were free to explore my entire pussy, including my throbbing clit.

I thrust a finger deep inside me while looking at Robert Dunn's beautiful cock. I knew it would feel so much better inside me than my skinny finger. I took my moist hand and slid it over my clit. I leaned back on the couch, never taking my eyes off his cock and the rest of his body. My hand rubbed at the clit until my ass rose from the couch in anticipation of a pending orgasm.

I thought about him fucking me while I squeezed his cock with my cunt muscles. Then I imagined he told me he was about to cum. I rubbed my clit harder and finally closed my eyes.

I squealed when I began to cum. My head pounded against the back of the couch and my arm ached from rubbing so fast. But I kept going and kept cumming. I felt my juices flow down my thigh as one orgasm after another shook my body.

When I was done I realized I was clutching the photo. It was bent in half inside my sweaty palm. But when I loosened my grip, it sprung back just like I imagined Robert Dunn's cock would spring back after I was done with it.

The next day I had more instructions for him.

Mr. Dunn: Thank you for the picture. It really made me cum. But it's not the same as a good fuck. Know what I mean? So I think it's time you prove to me you're serious about keeping our little secret. I've always had an urge to have sex in a public place. You're now the one I want to do it with. Be in the lobby of the Smith and Stone Building on High Street at 9 a.m. Friday. I'll meet you there. Don't try anything stupid. I'll cry rape and that sentence is a little longer than hit and run, I'm sure. You'll have fun. I promise.

Despite what some of my friends think, I only have one small area of my closet set aside for slutty clothes. It seemed appropriate to visit the area if I was finally going to fulfill my 'sex in public' fantasy. I chose the shortest skirt I could find and a little sweater that buttoned down the front starting in the middle of my cleavage. A pair of thong panties completed the outfit.

I felt my pussy tingle as I ran my fingers over the erect nipples under my sweater after dressing on Friday morning. It was almost obscene, but for one brief moment in a busy lobby it was going to be worth it. This was a role I'd dreamed of playing for a long time. Robert Dunn happened to come along and...well, the rest would be history.

I made sure I arrived sufficiently late to guarantee Mr. Dunn was waiting for me. I saw him looking around nervously, checking out every female that came and went. How awful this must have been for him, not knowing who or what to expect. Not that I cared. I just wanted his wonderful cock inside my cunt. Fast.

My shoes clicked on the tile floor as I walked across the lobby towards him. His eyes locked onto me and stayed there much longer than they had for the other women. I felt like such a whore...and loved it. He looked away. I kept walking. Then he looked again.

"Hi. Come with me," I said with a big smile. "And smile. You're supposed to be happy to see me."

I stood close to him, almost touching, as we walked towards the elevators. He only smiled briefly. A tense smile at that. It was good I still had him scared, I thought. He was taller than me and I would have been alarmed by his apparent physical dominance over me under any other circumstances. But not today. I was in charge today.

We got in the elevator and I pressed the button for the thirty second floor. This was a building I was very familiar with. I used to have to deliver stuff to a guy on that floor in another job I had. The room I had in mind always intrigued me. It would fit my needs today just perfectly.

We were alone.

"Listen, if you just want money I can..." Mr. Dunn began to say.

"I don't want your money," I replied bluntly.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," I assured him, smiling wickedly as the elevator began to slow its ascent. "Follow me and don't make a sound. I swear I'll have you arrested if you open your mouth."

I waited for the elevator doors to open, then led the way down the hallway with Mr. Dunn at my side and a half step behind me. There wasn't a soul in sight, typical for this floor. I just might pull this off after all, I thought to myself.

We came near a wall of glass, strangely reflecting our images back at us as we passed. They weren't mirrors and it wasn't normal glass. I sneaked a peek at myself and grinned. Who wouldn't want to fuck me in this outfit?

When we got to the door, I said, "Hold on. Let me check first."

I opened the door and looked inside. Nobody in sight. Just a long conference table with chairs. The lights were out but plenty of light came through the window.

"Come on," I motioned to my partner in crime. He entered the room and I closed the door, locking it at the same time.