Chapter 1

“Stay Still!” the masked man ordered, “And keep those hands on your skirt!”

Sobbing, I obeyed, once again pulling my pleated black short skirt up on my thighs to expose my naked crotch.

“Now open your mouth,” I was ordered.

I trembled, but following orders, I had opened my mouth as wide as It would go. The demanding man had looked down on my face, clearly enjoying the sight of my lips opening to accommodate his stiffening member.

As he had slipped his cock in, he showed me his menacing finger, and I started energetically sucking on him. A few seconds later his manhood had grown harder inside my mouth.

“Come on my dear, Mrs Steele! Open up. Let me see your pretty little tongue licking your new master’s cock!”

He had watched in delight as I obediently ran my pink tongue all around his cock head, collecting his salty juices as I licked. The man was soon groaning in pleasure and put his hand behind my head and forced me towards him, sliding his cock down my throat.

“Let me feel your throat around me, Mrs Steele!” he ordered, voice hoarse, as he slid his whole length of throbbing manhood deep into my mouth. “Aaahhh - feels So good!”

He then pulled his cock out, and jerking it with his hand, he ordered, “Open wide, Mrs Steele! You are about to receive a nice hot load of cum, your first of many!”

The man suddenly moaned in ecstasy as he continued to pump his cock and then ... the shock of hot sperm shooting on my face, onto my lips, into my mouth and on my tongue.

He continued to fill my mouth with his cum.

“Swallow, Mrs Steele,” he said in a taunting voice, “You are going to have to get used to having me use your mouth as I please.”

This was how it all started...

Let me introduce myself. I’m Jeniffer Steele, 29, and happily married to sweetheart, Gary, who is more than 10 years older. He works as a teacher in a neighbourhood school. I myself am a librarian, and our working hours permits us to be together often after our shifts ended.

I do workout often, trying my best to keep in shape for my husband. We don’t have any kids yet ... not that we planned not to, but although we love each other a lot, our sex life is minimal. Gary always complained about his stress at work, and that puts him off sex.

To compensate that I masturbated often, and sometimes vigorously with my trusted personal dildo. Gary knows this but he is fine as he knew he wouldn’t be able to satisfy me often.

Nevertheless, he is the man of my dreams and I always look forward to cuddle up with him and sharing the day’s events, like the daily encounters with my colleague Nick, who’s always flirting with me.

Now next to my condominium is a rental apartment, and not surprisingly there are always teens hanging out at the void deck.

We’ve seen them for about 4 years now and when these teens grew up to become young adults with raging hormones, they started giving me lewd names, catcalling me, whistled at me and such.

At times they even challenged among themselves who would be able to take a photo under my skirt.

We would ignore them when we walked by towards our condo, and just quicken our steps with all the whistles going on in the background.

Among them, the most daring was the young man that stalked me everywhere I go. Every day for almost half a year now, there’s fear that rises up my throat each time I walked past them. After which I also had to peep at my corridor and doorway to see if the my stalker, the young guy, is there. He is 18, perhaps.

He likes to say innocent stuff like “Mrs Steele, just getting home from work?” Or “Mrs Steele, you’re pretty”, and such.

Initially I tried to make a joke out of it, and replied, “Hey do you know I’m at least 10 years older than you?” or “Where’s your mommy?” but as this dragged on I decided not to reply to his advances at all as I might send a wrong signal to him, like as if I was interested in him.

One night I was cuddling up beside my husband Gary on our couch, eating ice cream.

As I fed him a huge spoonful of vanilla Ben n Jerry’s, he asked, “How’s Nick, that pervert colleague of yours?”

“He asked me out, as usual and you already know. I told him to give it up, ain’t interested at all,” I rolled my eyes, mimicking a disgusting look. I was caressing my husband’s neck with my other hand.

My husband’s dick was limp. “Dear, you should go to a doctor and get it checked. You know I love you and it’s ok if you can’t...” My voice trailed off. I did not want to hurt his feelings.

But he got upset. He moved away and sulked off into our guestroom, without saying a word. I felt bad, but I was horny, as always. I needed something to satisfy me and quickly reached out my dildo in the drawer.

I happened to be wearing a super short hot pants, and as the slinky garment settled between the folds of my pussy lips, I felt wetness from my pussy sticking to the fabric of the crotch of the shorts. “What is wrong with me,” I silently said. I literally need to satisfy myself every day.

I reached between my legs and found the folds of my pussy lips that were spread open by the material of my shorts. Absent mindedly, my index finger found my now erect clit straining against the sliver of material of my now soaking wet shorts.

With one hand now buried between my legs, I involuntarily began to twist my right nipple. I felt an almost electric shock emanating from my nipple and running directly to her clit. I propped my left foot up on to the couch, leaned against the head rest and began to furiously rub my clit.

As I was nearing orgasm, out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow outside the living hall window. Now, one side our apartment happens to be along the corridor, and our living hall was on that side. I shrieked, and the figure immediately darted off into the night.

My husband came in and I told him right away what happened. We came out of our unit and saw our potted plants along the corridor had been moved. Some liquid droplets could be seen on the walls.

My husband Gary knelt down to observe it. “What is it honey?” I asked.

Gary shook his head. “It’s semen, dear. Whoever peeped into our bedroom was observing you and having a good time,” he said solemnly. “I’ll wash it, just go back to sleep,” he told me.

I did and thought nothing about it. I mean, it’s harmless, right? And what can I do about it anyway. Let it pass Jenny, I told myself.

The next day, while I was getting ready for work, I found an envelope on my bedroom floor under the window. My husband was showering, so I quickly took it and opened before he came out.

I read the words on the label, my heart pounding. I gasped when I read it.

“Watch the photos and don’t tell anyone. I’ll be in touch,” was what’s written on it.

My mouth was ajar when I saw the photos. There were 15, no wait, at least 20 photos of me masturbating on my bed, in the comfort of my own room. The dildo sticking into my wet clit could clearly be seen, in high definition no less. And right below was an email address that I had to email to, to establish communication with whoever that was sending me those threat. It said I had to reply to this threat by 3pm, that very day.

My husband then stepped out of our bathroom, rinsing his hair. I was startled but managed to keep the envelope with my photos in it away from his sight.

“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost, honey,” he said without looking up. He was still busy rinsing his hair while looking at the mirror. He was very thin with a huge belly protruding. He was totally an out of shape 40 year old man, whereas I was always busy trying myself to look good for my husband.