Blast From The Past

Even at the time, Karen had known she would regret it. But she was young and she was broke. And even though she hates clichés and knows that they all say "I did it for the money," this was the case. At the time she was eighteen years old, straight off the farm, desperate to study in a big city with a big school with an even bigger tuition. Karen was smart – smarter than this particular decision would make her appear – but she was also driven to succeed, struggling to know when to turn back, and when the offer to make a couple of girl-on-girl videos was presented, she was too far gone to say no. A couple videos a semester would pay for not only all her classes – and she had a full course load – but her apartment, her groceries, and what she considered a big city wardrobe. Plus she had grown up on a farm and had very little experience with or interest in technology – would could have possibly known that a small stack of video tapes would later be available to millions at the click of a button? Not Karen.

Which is why she finds herself in the rather uncomfortable situation she is presently in. The man she vaguely remembers from all those years ago – the man who tells her his name is William, but who she doesn't completely believe – is sitting across from her now in a popular coffee shop drinking an espresso at ten in the morning and looking for all the world as though he is not proposing to ruin her life.

"I don't understand," Karen says, not for the first time.

"What's not to understand?" William asks, his voice casual, like he's done this before. And, in fact, he has. Because William made a small fortune living off innocent young girls like Karen back in the eighties, making cheap porn videos that he would copy and sell to a small group of buyers. And now that William has burned through most of that money – but been smart enough to recognize the explicit value of the internet – he has found himself a new career blackmailing the former starlets (most of whom have gone on to respectable lives) by threatening to post their past escapades online. And while most have simply offered him whatever money they had, Karen is different. Karen was different then, and Karen is different now. Because in college Karen had only agreed to the girl-on-girl videos, and though his cock ached each time he saw her – hell, each time he merely thought of her – William had never touched her. And nearly twenty years and thousands of hours spent watching her videos, freeze framing on his favourite scenes, has brought William to the frustrated boiling point more times than he could possibly count.

William is not an unappealing guy. He has a tidy apartment in a nice part of town and clean clothes and straight teeth and all of his hair. And while he has tried to replace Karen – even going to so far as to hire escorts to re-enact some of her finest moments – nothing sated his unhealthy desire for her, and, until, though a broad stroke of luck, he had spotted her realtor's photo on the back of a city bus, it had seemed nothing would. Until he made the call. Until she answered. And until she sat across from him in the busy coffee shop with an untouched bottle of water and a slack-jawed horror at his proposition.

"How can you—How can they—? I mean, it was so long ago, I don't do that..."

"Relax, Karen," William says with not-entirely-sincere empathy. "Nobody's asking you for a repeat performance."

"Then what exactly are you asking?" Karen hisses, somewhat emboldened now that she knows he is not asking her to kiss another girl. It was bad enough – if necessary – at the time; she is certainly no longer the sexually adventurous type she convinced herself she had to be in college. Those days are over. A phrase she had told her ex-husband time and again when he continually tried "spicing up" their completely satisfactory sex life, and again when she signed the divorce papers. Karen Roberts is a respectable realtor with a successful firm and a terrific reputation. Her non-existent sex life suits her just fine. Truth is, she prefers it this way. Those things in college... With the blurry stills William just showed her, there is no denying that something about the experience had turned her on. Karen knows that she is not interested in women; she is also not interested in exploring the kind of fantasies that sometimes keep her awake at night. No respectable woman would. And Karen is nothing if not respectable, a fact she reminds William of.

"I believe you, Karen," William says with a smile. "And I'm not asking you to ruin your reputation. In fact, I've even brought one of your films with me, as a token of faith."

"What are you talking about?" Karen snaps, impatient, nervous. She remembers William now that she looks at him closely. Remembers him filming her so many years ago, remembers the lust in his gaze. Remembers performing for him. Closing her eyes and imaging his tongue in her pussy, and not that of the girl rented for the day.

"What I'm talking about is a week of obedience," William says carefully, and indeed he has thought this through. "For seven days you do everything I ask, and each day I'll give you back a tape. At the end of the seven days I'll give you all the remaining tapes for you to do with what you wish."

"And if I don't—" Karen starts, but there's no need to finish the sentence.

"Then I'll clean them up and post them online," William says, omitting the fact that he has already transferred them to DVD and refined the images as best he could for his own enjoyment. "And send links to everyone you know and everyone you want to know and they'll all know how Karen Roberts paid for college. Licking other cunts. Sticking her finger in their assholes. Bending over for them."

Karen looks around the coffee shop frantically, but nobody seems to be listening.

"Why?" she asks finally.

"Because I want you," William says softly. "And I have for twenty years. And every time I watch your tapes I know that you wanted me too. And I've spoken to your ex-husband and I know that your sex life wasn't good, and I want to give you what you need."

"You have no idea what I need!" Karen hisses, jumping up from her seat, surprising even herself at her vehemence.

Quick as lightning William's hand snaps out, grips Karen's wrist, and yanks her back down into her chair.

"You have no idea what you need," he tells her in a low voice. "And if you don't want to take what I have to give you, you can take it from the hundreds – thousands - of guys – not to mention some women – who are going to watch these videos. Again and again and again."

Karen swallows thickly.

"So that's your choice: seven days under my control, or a lifetime under theirs."

A million protests die on her tongue. She wants to say no. Wants to throw his coffee in his face and storm out of the coffee shop with her head held high. But feeling the strength of his fingers on her wrist as he pulled her back into her chair, recognizing the long-dormant dampness in her pussy, and realizing that this could be the excuse she has long needed, Karen says yes.

The next morning Karen drives anxiously across town, her knees pressed tightly together beneath the matching skirt of her prim two-piece business suit. As ordered by William, a DVD transfer of one of her films is playing on the laptop beside her, and though Karen doesn't want to watch, she can't seem to keep her eyes from drifting down to the flickering screen where she sees her nineteen year-old self sucking ravenously on the swollen clitoris of a girl whose name she has long since forgotten. She also pretends that her cunt is not equally swollen, that her panties are not wet, that her heart is not pounding.

It is not quite seven o'clock and the underground parking garage he has directed her to is empty. She scans the yellow numbers in the parking spaces and drives to the dark, far end without passing another vehicle. And then she sees it: the large white pick-up parked in the corner, its lights off. She knows it is too much of a coincidence to be anyone but him, and as instructed parks the car and steps out, leaving the DVD playing in her computer.

William steps out of the pickup with a grin on his somewhat handsome face. She would give him a completely handsome rating if he weren't blackmailing her. "Good morning, Karen," he says.

Karen glares at him as though she is not secretly aroused.

"Turn up the volume on the DVD," he orders. "And roll the window down a little so we can hear it."

Karen scowls but does what she is told.

"Now take off all your clothing, except your bra, and toss them into the car."

Karen wants to hesitate but she has a house to show in an hour and can't afford to be late.

Moments later she's standing naked except for a purple push-up bra and black peep-toe heels. She looks good and they both know it. Her cunt is shaved except for a small square of hair at the top, and her breasts are large and well-displayed in the lingerie.

"On your knees," William orders in a low voice, and Karen drops to her knees. "Now come here," he says, and Karen shuffles on her knees the three or four yards to William's feet. "You know what I want."

Karen takes a deep breath, struggles to control her pounding heart, and unzips his pants, letting his long dick spring out into her face. While she had never co-starred with him, she knew several girls who had, and all had said the same: he's got a huge cock and he knows how to use it, but you'd better be ready or you won't walk straight for a week. If her seeping cunt is any indication, Karen will be walking fine tomorrow. Assuming he wants to fuck her, and not merely force her to swallow his cock. In any case, she opens her red-painted lips and wraps them around the head of his cock, her tongue pressing daintily against the underside, and starts to suck.

William nearly passes out with pleasure and gratitude. Twenty years well worth it for this moment, with this beautiful sexy woman with her glowing blonde hair streaming down her back and her full red lips wrapped around his dick. It took all his self-control not to cum when he saw her car slowly pull into sight moments earlier, and it is taking superhuman strength not to grip her scalp and fuck her face with everything that's been building for twenty years. But he doesn't. He watches her as long as he can, then closes his eyes and tries to think of anything but this moment. Then he winds his fingers in her silky hair and slowly thrusts a bit further into her mouth, until his cock bumps her throat and she gags slightly. He pulls back, gives it some time, then does it again. Repeat cycle. Repeat.

"You know what I want, Karen," he says, and it comes out in a guttural growl. He wants to feed his cock down her slender throat and spew his cum into her waiting red mouth.

She whimpers slightly but with his hands controlling her head there is little else she can do but try to swallow when he bumps her throat, opening her mouth as wide as she can. She can feel him in her throat and it makes her eyes water, makes her gag, makes the juices in her cunt trickle down her thigh. She knows this is the wrong way to feel, but she can't help it. After she blows him, she'll go home, masturbate, then forget this ever happened. Respectable women do not get turned on by blackmail blow jobs!

Eventually William is able to slide down her throat with nearly every thrust, and it is all he can do to keep from cumming. And then there is nothing he can do and he fists his fingers in her hair and controls her movements and holds his cock so just the tip is in her mouth, tongue swirling around the end.

"Hold my cum in your mouth," he grunts. "Don't swallow it yet."

And when he unleashes "the flood," as he likes to call it, the submissive sounds of Karen's slurping and sucking are almost more satisfying than the orgasm. He finally slides his cock free of her mouth and stares down at her beautiful pale face, red lips gleaming with saliva and cum, and he taps her smooth cheek.

"Open your mouth," he says gently. "Let me see."

Karen slowly opens her mouth, revealing the pool of glistening cum on her tongue.

"Keep your mouth open and swallow it," William orders, entranced, inhaling sharply when he watches the creamy mass disappear down her throat.

They stay in this position a few moments longer, William breathing hard, Karen wondering what she should do next. What does he want from her? Does he want to fuck her? She'd never admit it, but she wants him to. She wants relief from the burning in her pussy that hasn't gone away since their meeting yesterday. She needs it enough that she is willing to suck a stranger's cock in a parking garage so she can get it.

"Should I stand up?" Karen finally asks when her knees start to ache from being pressed into the cold concrete.

"Yes, of course," William stays, shaking his head and reminding himself of why he is here. Telling himself not to let her see her control over him, to appear composed, disinterested, even.

Karen rises to shaky legs and stands awkwardly before him. She is not embarrassed by her body, but the stretch of silence has allowed the moans from the DVD still playing in her car to penetrate the haze surrounding her brain, and this reminds her that she is naked in a parking garage with traces of cum on her lips.

Eyes locked on hers, William lowers one hand to her waist, strokes the smooth skin gently, then slides his hand between her thighs. It is all he can do not to gasp at the drenched folds that soak his fingers. He takes a deep breath and before he can talk himself out of it, plunges two fingers inside her pussy and curls them forward, seeking her G-spot and finding it easily.

"Oh!" Karen exclaims, knees buckling so she tumbles forward and has to catch herself on William's shoulders. Though she secretly (and desperately) wants his hand – and more – inside her cunt, he is blackmailing her, which she finds despicable, so she pushes herself away, accidentally dislodging his hand from her cunt.

"Got a problem with me touching your pussy?" Williams asks in a low, dangerous voice, taking two menacing steps forward to match Karen's awkward stumble back. She opens her blood-red lips to respond, but he's already on her again, one hand tight on her arm, the other rough between her legs. "Doesn't feel like it," he continues, this time plunging three fingers inside, stretching them wide, soaking them in her juices. "Feels like you've needed this for a long time."

"No," Karen whispers, even as his calloused thumb swirls around her clit, never pressing quite hard enough.

"No?" William echoes with a harsh laugh. "I watched your videos, you know. I saw what you liked to do their pussies. I know you like this."

"That was... a long time ago," Karen manages to get out, belly clenching frantically under his ministrations. It has been a long time since she has had a truly spectacular orgasm, but she recognizes the signs of one, and this is definitely such a time.

"Do you want me to suck on your clit, Karen?" William asks softly. "Do you want me to pull it between my teeth and flick it with my tongue and kiss it so hard you think you'll die?"

Yes, Karen thinks. God, yes. But she hears herself say, "No."

"No?" William repeats, pulling his hand away from her sopping pussy, holding it up for her to see the shiny juices that coat his fingers. "Are you sure?"

Karen forces herself to nod. "I don't want this," she says between chattering teeth.

William sighs and grips his once-again hard cock with his glistening hand.

"Bend over the trunk of your car," he instructs.

"W-what?" Karen stammers. Her pussy spasms in protest, seeking his fingers, his cock. Anything.

"Now!" William barks, hoping the snap in his voice sounds like anger and not desperation. Like he won't expire if he doesn't get his cock back inside her.

Karen scurries over to her car, the sounds of licking and sucking coming louder from the front seat, and she closes her eyes tightly as she takes a deep breath and bends over the trunk. Her nipples feel like daggers pressing into the cool metal, but she has almost no time to dwell on it before William is behind her, using his knee to nudge her legs painfully far apart, twisting her hips so she is bent over the corner, a lean thigh on either side of the taillight.

Her car is an older model, the trunk low enough that the rounded corner is pressing right into her gushing pussy. She bites her lip to keep from making any sounds of discomfort, but it doesn't matter, because William's hand is between her legs again, pulling her labia apart, and nestling the corner of the car right in the hot wet hole of her pussy. Karen does gasp this time, because with little pressure on it, the position is not painful, but she knows it will hurt horribly if William wants it to.

"Please," she says against her will.

"Please what?" William asks, amused.

"Don't hurt me," she pleads.

She can't see William's face from her present position, which is fortunate for William, because he doesn't hide the shock he feels at her words. William is not so psychotic that he thinks his behavior is healthy or acceptable, but in a twisted, obsessed way, he loves Karen and would never hurt her. At least not irreparably. And not in a way that wouldn't make her cum harder than she had ever cum before.

William doesn't answer, which only makes Karen tense up even more, even as her pussy juice trickles down the shiny side of the car. Her fingers grip the edge of the trunk and hold on, eyes squeezed tight, not opening when William slowly begins stroking the slope of her ass. Her breath comes fast as his thumbs hook inside the cleft of her ass, gently prying it apart as he continues stroking slowly from top to bottom, examining the tight, forbidden entrance to her anus. His thumbs meet at the cleft of her pussy, bumping the car, then make the slow return trip to her tailbone. Back again. Again and again. Karen's legs tremble, and not just from fear. Discreetly she tries to move her hips against the car to find some relief for the throbbing in her cunt. But there is no way to discretely masturbate herself against the car when William is holding her hips, and when he sees her desire take over from her fear, he swiftly plunges one thumb into her pussy, wets it, then pulls it out to moisten the puckered hole of her anus. He does this a couple of times until Karen is squirming. Apart from a few fingers and tongues in her old video days, she has never participated in any kind of anal play.

"Is this a virgin asshole?" William asks gently, pressing his thumb against the resisting flesh until just the tip breaks inside.

Karen whimpers and nods.

"You're going to love it," he promises, replacing his thumb with the head of his cock. "I promise."

"Please," Karen says again. "Please don't do this." She wants him to fuck her cunt, not her virgin ass, but of course she can't say that.

William hesitates. "Would you rather I make your videos available to everyone you know?" he asks. When she doesn't respond he resumes the pressure of his cock on her tightly clenched asshole, the pressure inexorable. He strokes her spine reassuringly. "Loosen up, Karen. Press down. It won't hurt as much."

Karen is squeezing her ass as tightly as possible. She has already learned that pressing her hips forward to avoid his cock just puts painful pressure on her stretched cunt, her clit maddeningly out of reach of the solid weight of the car.

But William is not to be denied and he slides his thumbs back down into the cleft of her ass, one on either side of her tight asshole, and pulls hard. Painfully so. Karen cries out in shock and pain and in that moment of distraction William rams his hips forward, forcing the first few inches of his fat cock into her screaming ass.