Sharron detests Bill and seethes with hate for the asshole who is blackmailing her. She thinks, “I was stupid and desperate, embezzling from the company, and more stupid to be caught so easily. Bill found the discrepancy before I could return the money. He replaced it, less than $1000, but showed me the evidence he collected first. It’s enough to put me in jail. Bill demanded a date, although he made it sound like a request. ‘Just something casual,’ he said, but I instantly knew that’s code for fucking me.”

It was bad enough before this all happened, when he asked me out more than a dozen times. I had to repeatedly explain my policy of never dating anyone from work. I was so frustrated that I might have gotten a little too nasty, but that’s also his fault. The guy would not take a hint.

To think, I used be jealous of the other women I saw him with. Since he was the only cute young guy on the floor where we work, I got my revenge teasing him unmercifully. I don’t think I was leading him on. Besides, it wasn’t my fault if he misread my signals.

When Bill first showed me the evidence, I just knew he would demand sex, like a typical man. I tried begging, pleading, even tears. Bill seems immune from all the tricks that usually let me get my way. I may not be a centerfold model, but I’m not far off. I rarely have a problem getting whatever I want from a man, except with Bill.

Last night, the Blackmailing Bastard even invaded my dreams. It was a nightmare! I was forced to perform all sorts of perverted sex acts. The more depraved, the more he made me enjoyed it. There was a big wet spot under me when I woke. I had to change the sheets then masturbate during my morning shower for relief.

It’s less than an hour before Bill is due to arrive! I run into the bathroom. I strip off everything except my 3” heels. I think, “I’m not going to spend a minute, let alone hours making myself beautiful for the Blackmailing Bastard. I just put on a little light makeup, scented powder, and perfume. That’s what I’d do anyway, in case the mailman comes knocking.”

I’m still in the bathroom when my doorbell rings. I check the clock and see Bill is right on time. Somehow, the entire hour disappeared! I can’t answer my door naked. I grab my pale-blue satin robe from behind the bathroom door. I think, “What’s the point in wearing clothes? He’s just going to demand I strip for him. I refuse to get fully dressed in order to give the bastard an entire striptease show.

The doorbell rings a 3^rd time. I race to open my door. Bill is standing in front of my doorway. I suppress most of my first reaction, but still checkout his substantial package. I never saw Bill look this hot at work. He must work out with weights in addition to jogging. He is tall, muscular with a clearly defined six-pack, handsome, and confident. Exactly my type of guy.

There’s a light sheen of sweat on his tan skin. Apparently, Bill jogged over here. He’s wearing a white cutoff muscle shirt that ends at his elbows, navy-blue satin running shorts that display his muscular thighs, black Nike sneakers, and an insufferably confident grin. He was not kidding about casual. Clearly, Bill doesn’t respect me enough to try and look better.

I do not want my neighbors to see him. So, I don’t even give Bill a chance to say hello before I drag him into my apartment. I smell a powerful male scent coming from Bill, which makes me light-headed for a moment.

It’s enough time for Bill to ask, “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Don’t play games with me.” I declare, “I know you’re really here to fuck me. We’ll fuck once in my bedroom then I’m done with you.”

Bill is stunned. His brain goes into overdrive, “Despite how bitchy and insulting Sharron got when I asked her out, I never had any intention of doing that. I’d never rape an unwilling woman.”

He smiles thinking, “but if a gorgeous babe like Sharron is offering sex then no way will I turn her down. Sharron obviously hopes to get this over quickly so she can pretend it never happened. I’m going to make it unforgettable for both of us. I create a plan on the spot.”

With difficulty, Bill manages a calm voice. “Wait! I need 2 things before we start. First, I want to see you completely naked, right here, right now.”

“Of course,” Sharron growls, already expecting this demand. She unties the robe’s belt, shrugs it off her shoulders, and lets it drop to the floor.

Sharron kicks off her 3” heels and stands defiantly, allowing him to examine her nude body. Thinking “He’s going to see it all soon enough anyway. Why not here and now?”

Bill is in no rush. He steps closer to Sharron, breaking her personal space. “I find your defiance very sexy.”

“You’re trying to put me off-balance. Make me feel defensive and vulnerable.” Replies Sharron after instinctively retreating a step. She thinks, “My glare is less effective when I have to look upwards to meet his eyes. Now that I’m barefoot, Bill is at least 6” taller than my 5’4”. His confident posture radiating an unspoken superiority that resonates with the most primitive part of me. I’m proud of my body, but I feels strange under his piercing gaze.” It makes my nipples tingle.

“Down girls.” I tell them. I don’t want to encourage this bastard. I’ll do the minimum to get rid of him. I won’t enjoy it. Then I’ll forget it forever.

Bill’s eyes miss nothing. In a deep sexy voice he observes, “Your legs are superb even without heels. Your tits are exquisite. Are they 34D? Anything more would be too much. My guess is you’re a size 1.”

“Usually, I get size 2 because of my large bust. Even then it’s often tight.”

“Of course, most girls would kill to have your figure and natural sensuality. You know men find you attractive, but not how your vitality, effervescence, and self-assurance, create a primal need to claim you.”

I just nod, ignoring the way my body reacts to his unconcealed examination. There’s an appreciative tingle in my breasts. I feel my errant nipples begin to stiffen, despite my determination not to show him more than absolutely necessary. What would it feel like to be claimed by Bill?

Bill continues, “Obviously, you take excellent care of your body. Classic hour-glass figure, with beautiful baby-making hips. You have a sensuous vulva topped by a well-groomed landing strip. The total package is breathtaking.”

I swiftly glance at Bill’s shorts. Is the bulge getting bigger? Is his body reacting to my exposure?

Despite my determination, it only takes a few compliments and a little unexpected attention for my body to betray me, making my nipples pop out. My skin feels hot wherever he looks. Why doesn’t Bill just fuck me and get it over with?

“What’s the next thing?” I ask, trying to move things faster.

“Shhhhh, my Princess. I am not done appreciating your exquisite splendor. Stay perfectly still.”

I say nothing as Bill slowly circles to my left, stopping right behind, where he can see me as much of me as he pleases, but I can’t see him. I feel a mixture of fear and excitement. There’s an unwelcome flutter between my legs when I contemplate being grabbed from behind, thrown to the floor, and mounted.

Instead, unsure of what he will demand next, I fidget, rubbing my thighs together. As the moments pass I recognize that he’s not going to rape me, at least not yet.

I try to recall why I should despise Bill. It’s increasing difficult to keep hating a man who is continually complimenting me, not in a sleazy or lecherous manner, but a frank, honest, and very flattering appraisal. His comments are sexist, but not crude, and I’m one who has been talking about fucking since he first walked in the door.

“Such lovely hair should not be bound.” He declares and pull out the single long pin holding my hair up. It cascades down to the small of my back. I stew silently, thinking “How presumptuous,” but bob my head to shake out my hair.

“Please spread your legs shoulder-width, bend over, and hold your knees.” Bill asks courteously. I was expecting a harsh demand, not a polite request. I don’t want to obey, but I remember that I have no choice. It seems like a simple enough request to follow.

Despite Bill’s courtesy, I know he will not tolerate disobedience. It’s not worth risking Bill walking out and sending me to prison.

“Is this what you mean?” I reply feeling my long hair fall to my sides and my unbound breasts sway sensuously beneath me.

“Perfect! The view from behind is outstanding. I am not so much a leg or breast man, but I do love a sexy ass like yours. It may be your best feature. May I touch your ass?”

“Yes,” I say. It comes out more as a sexy sigh. Why did I agree so quickly? Why is he being so polite? Is he hoping that making me display myself will be arousing?

“Ahh!” I gasp at his touch, but do not pull away. He caresses both ass cheeks, first lightly then with more power, kneading my flesh possessively. One hand circling clockwise the other counterclockwise.

“Ohh!” I moan when the fingers of one hand dip into the crack of my ass gliding over my butthole. When the other hand follows, I shiver. No guy has ever touched me like that. I never realized how sensitive it can be.

As he continues the intense massage, my excitement goes through the roof. The bastard caught me unprepared. I cannot move without permission. I don’t want to.

With each cycle his fingers inch close to my vagina, caressing my labia. My eyes close so I can focus on the erotic sensations. I start panting. My butthole pushes back to meet his fleeting touches. I can feel my nipples harden to two sharp points on my swaying breasts. It takes a moment for me to realize it, when his touch disappears.

“Stand up!” Bill directs. I do not know whether to be pleased or horrified. When my eyes open, a few inches away, I see Bill’s cock tenting the front of his shorts. It looks larger than any of my recent boyfriends. I feel my pussy getting damp in anticipation.

Bill says, “The second thing is a long passionate kiss. I expect enthusiasm. It will last until you can soak my cock thoroughly.”

“Oh, you want a blowjob.” I ask, thinking “If I can get him to climax with my mouth then maybe I won’t need to fuck the bastard.”

“No! Only your lower lips may be used. Are you woman enough to do that?” Bill challenges.

“More woman than you can handle.” I growl back, my pride reasserting itself. I think, “My pussy is already damp. How hard can this be?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Bill replies with that infuriating grin.

Bill is too tall for me to reach his mouth. I step close enough so my breasts press against his chest. When my tumescent nipples touch him, I feel my pussy getting wet. “Good,” I think, “I can get this over and done fast. I’ll have the Bastard out of here in 10 minutes.”

I put my hands on his shoulders, lift my head, purse my lips, and wait for him to make the next move.