tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLouise Goes Down Ch. 01

Louise Goes Down Ch. 01

byjack_straw©

Louise Sullivan just stared at the letter that shook in her hand.

It was from a credit card provider threatening drastic action if she didn't pay at least some of what she owed them. Problem was, what she owed this particular company amounted to approximately $6,000 and it was one of three companies to which she owed a similar amount.

Altogether, she estimated that she owed right at $20,000, some of it for shopping sprees that she had embarked on, but much of it was for on-line gambling debts.

She had been a sports fan since she was young, the result of her being the only girl in a house full of brothers. And with time on her hands after her two children got older, she had tested her knowledge of sports on a variety of offshore betting web sites.

It had happened so fast, she hardly knew what she'd done. For a long time, she had managed to keep her habit under control, winning a few hundred dollars here and there, and losing a few hundred here and there.

But earlier in the season, she had hit a winning streak and had gotten ahead a couple of thousand dollars, then she got greedy.

She'd doubled down on a four-game parley of NFL games, it had gone horribly wrong and she'd lost several thousand dollars. Then she had bet larger amounts trying to recoup her losses, and in the space of a few weeks, a manageable debt had mushroomed into the crisis that confronted her.

Louise knew she couldn't depend on her husband to bail her out of this one. Willard Sullivan was pretty tight with the considerable salary he pulled down as a vice-president for a large multi-national corporation, and he was constantly badgering her about her spending habits.

It had gotten to the point where she had gone back to work, as a secretary for a modest-sized company, just to get her husband off her back about money.

Louise knew that Willard would tell her that she had gotten herself into this mess, she would have to get herself out of it, especially since she'd gone in the hole from gambling.

But, she recalled, she had done it out of boredom. Her husband was gone a lot on business trips all over the world, and the kids were now off at college. She and Willard had been married for 23 years, and they'd had a son who was now 20 and a daughter who was 18.

At 43, Louise was still quite attractive, with thick, honey blonde hair that fell about her shoulders in luscious waves. She had hazel eyes that could fairly be described as smoky, which combined with her fulsome lips, gave her a most enticing look.

Her body was ripe, as well. She was right at 5-foot-4, with a firm set of 36Bs that still sat high and proud on her chest, a taut butt atop a gorgeous pair of legs.

No question, Louise Sullivan could still turn heads, especially at her office, where she was considered something of a prick tease, even though she didn't realize it. But it seemed like Willard didn't have as much time for her any more.

With time and a little extra money on her hands, Louise had turned to on-line betting as a way of passing the time, along with the occasional forays into Internet porn, to satisfy her increasingly unmet sexual needs.

Louise was relating her misfortunes to a girlfriend at lunch the next day when fate played its hand. She was talking about how much she owed on her credit cards, then the conversation turned to their respective sex lives. Neither of them was getting as much from their husbands as they would have liked, and they commiserated with each other over their situations.

Sitting at the table next to them, all ears, was Bob Daniels, one of the junior managers. Bob was in his late 30s, he was single and he had been angling to get a crack at Louise ever since she had first started to work there, without success.

Now, as he listened, he saw his chance, and as the afternoon wore on, a truly fiendish plan took shape in his mind. Later, over a few beers at a local pub, Bob outlined his plan to one of his good friends, Brandon Smith, who was a fairly skilled amateur photographer.

Brandon was looking to make photography a full-time profession, and he was building up his portfolio with that in mind.

"I'm telling you, man, it's at least worth a try," Bob said. "You'll understand once you meet her. This woman has a look about her like she could suck an egg through a garden hose, and she's got a primo body, especially for someone who's a little over 40. And I don't think hubby's giving it the attention it deserves."

"I don't know," Brandon said. "I mean, you don't really think she'll fall for it, do you?"

"Listen, buddy, have I ever steered you wrong on pussy?" Bob said, warming to his subject. "Louise Sullivan isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, and I think if we lay enough money out there to entice her, she'll go for it. She's desperate, and I don't think it'll take a lot of cajoling to get her to take off her clothes for the camera. You're the photographer; you know how to work a subject. You get her to strip for you a couple of times, get her confidence, let her think everything's above board, then you start pushing it. Get her to play with herself a little, get her worked up some. Then, when you've got her hot to go, bring out the heavy artillery. Get some stud to come in, and tell her you want to take some sex shots with him. Hell, promise her there won't be any penetration, just simulated sex. And when you've got her frothing at the cunt, you get your stud to just fuck her, you snap away, then when he's finished – voila! – instant whore."

"What makes you think she'll do it the way you say she will?" Brandon asked.

"You know me," Bob said with a devilish smile. "I just have this gut instinct that underneath that married façade is a slut just waiting to burst out. I get the feeling that she's suppressed a lot of eroticism over the years while playing the good wife and mother, and now that the kids are gone and her husband's away a lot, she's ready to do what she's always wanted to do, and that's fuck – a lot."

"We'll see," Brandon said, still a little uncertain. "But I guess there's no harm in trying. Like you said, what have we got to lose? OK, I'll take out an ad in the paper, you get her to call me for an appointment, and we'll take it from there."

"Trust me, brother, there are an awful lot of guys at work that would gladly shell out a couple of hundred bucks for an hour with Louise Sullivan," Bob said. "I think we can make some money with her. I'll even be generous and let her have her share of the proceeds. She gets to pay her bills, you get some good stuff for your portfolio and we both get to fuck some outstanding poontang."

Bob didn't know it yet, but his instincts were right on the mark. Louise had kept a tight lid on her sexual urges for the entire 24 years she'd known Willard, because he was a pretty straight, serious guy.

But there had been a time when Louise had been a real hellraiser. Louise was the youngest child and only daughter, after her folks had had three sons. When she was 12, her parents had divorced quite suddenly, and she later found out her father had been caught with one of the women in the neighborhood.

Her mother had moved with Louise and her youngest brother to another city, and she never missed an opportunity to rail against the, "sins of the flesh," that she claimed had been her father's downfall.

Louise was not particularly pretty as a child, and she was a little overweight. So to fit in at a new school, she believed that she needed to be "cool," and to be cool at her school in the late 1970s meant drinking, smoking pot and having sex.

For a little over two years, Louise had been a party animal of the highest order, getting high and fucking just about anything that moved, and she seemed to take it as a badge of honor when people called her a slut.

That phase of her life lasted until she was 15 and a freshman in high school. One night, she was at a party, and she and a boy were in one of the bedrooms when the cops busted it up. All the kids were taken to the station, and Louise's mother was called to come pick her up.

From that time until she died, Louise's mother was always convinced that Louise was, "nothing but a whore inside."

But that didn't stop Louise's mom from putting her in a parochial school to try and straighten her out. There one of the nuns had guided her into athletics. Louise had always played basketball with her brothers on their driveway court, and she realized she still had some skills and that she enjoyed the game. She'd made the varsity and had played quite a lot, although she wasn't quite good enough to start.

Playing basketball helped Louise lose all of the baby fat she'd been carrying around, and she also learned how to maximize her looks. As she reached adulthood, her face seemed to morph into the understated beauty she now possessed.

All through her remaining years of high school, Louise still enjoyed sex, but not to the extreme that she had when she was younger. But that latent nymphomania never quite went away, even after she graduated from high school.

As a senior, she had gotten a part-time job at J.C. Penney, and after graduation, she took a full-time job there, since she had no interest at all in college. She'd been working full-time for about a year when she'd met Willard, who was an accountant for a company that did the store's books.

They seemed to hit it off, so they'd started dating, and after a year decided to marry. Jimmy, their son, was now 20, and their daughter Jenny, was 18 and had just gone off to school that fall.

Over 23 years, there had been some ups and downs, but lately there had been more downs than ups, especially in the last few years as Willard's career began to take off.

When they were together, their sex life still had some spark to it, but they were spending more and more nights apart, and Louise suspected that Willard wasn't staying celibate on his many business trips. But she had no way to prove that, so she had taken refuge in her work, her games and her erotica.

And now she was stuck in a ho-hum job, she was deeply in debt because of her betting on sports and she was frustrated because she wasn't getting nearly as much sex as she felt like she needed. In short, Louise Sullivan was a ticking time bomb that was about to explode.

It was about a week later that Brandon's ad appeared in the Sunday newspaper, and the next morning, Bob brought a copy to work and showed it to Louise.

"I heard you were having some money trouble," he said.

"I ... Yeah, I've had a few setbacks," Louise said.

"This might be the answer to your prayers," Bob said. "I think you'd make a great model."

Louise scanned the ad, then settled on what Brandon said he was willing to pay. The ad was a solicitation for "glamour shots of mature women," and said that Brandon was willing to pay his models up to $1,000 for a session.

"What kind of glamour shots do you think he's talking about," Louise said. "I mean for that kind of money..."

"Whatever kind of shots he wants, I'll bet you'd knock 'em dead," Bob said. "Look, Louise, I'm not just saying this to flatter you. You're the best looking, sexiest woman in this office. You just have a look about you that I believe would be very photogenic. What have you got to lose?"

"Do you really think so?" Louise asked. "Honestly?"

"Oh, absolutely," Bob said, smiling inside. He could see the dollar signs flashing in Louise's eyes. "You're gorgeous. Come on, Louise, go for it. Hell, you only live once."

"Maybe I will give him a call," Louise said, a little distractedly.

Sure enough, Brandon got the call that afternoon, and he set up a meeting that evening after she got off work. Brandon was indeed taken a little aback at his first look at Louise, and he chuckled inside at the knowledge that, once again, Bob's nose for pussy had come through.

"I'm going to be up front with you," Brandon said. "I'm looking to broaden my portfolio, so that I might make a living at this. There are jobs on the West Coast that I'm interested in, and the kind of shots I'm looking for are essential to those jobs."

"What kind of shots are you talking about?" Louise said.

"I'm looking for nudes," Brandon said. "I'm asking you if you're willing to be a nude model for $1,000 a session."

"How many sessions would you need?" Louise said softly, after a long silence.

"However many it takes," Brandon said. "A dozen, maybe. You could make a lot of money in a relatively short period of time, in cash, tax-free. And I have to say, you're just about perfect for what I have in mind."

"Which is?" Louise said. She was wary, but intrigued by the offer.

"You have a certain sensuality about you that I think could play very well on camera," Brandon said. "A maturity that younger models don't possess."

"Who would see these shots?" Louise said.

"Me, and maybe a few magazine editors, no one who'd know who you are," Brandon said. "I want them mostly to show the people in the right positions that I can do these kinds of shots."

"And you said you'd pay in cash? No checks?" Louise said.

"It would just be between me and you," Brandon said.

"When do you want to start?" Louise said, and as she did she idly fiddled with the top button to her blouse.

"Why not now," Brandon said.

Louise took a deep breath, then nodded her head.

"OK, let's do it," she said, finally.

Louise was nervous as she waited for Brandon to get the lights set up, get the backdrop fixed and get his gear together. She knew she was taking a big step, and she wasn't sure how Willard would react if he found out she'd been posing naked for a photographer.

But she was convinced that he'd never find out, and, besides, the thought of stripping in front of a strange man appealed to her deeply embedded carnality. She needed reassurance right then that she was still sexy, still desirable, and Brandon was giving her that and more.

The first session was pretty mundane. Brandon took shots of her with her clothes on, then shot her as she slowly peeled off her blouse, her skirt, her bra, her pantyhose and finally her panties – which were soaked by the time she got them off.

Both Bob and Brandon were right. Louise had a natural affinity for the camera. As the shoot progressed, she became more and more relaxed, and projected her sensuality to the lens. And Brandon was quickly able to gain Louise's confidence. He had a soothing, low-key style that set her at ease.

When it was over, and Louise had left, Brandon was bowled over by the results. Regardless of the ulterior motives, he realized that he'd stumbled on a gold mine, that Louise Sullivan had star quality in front of a camera.

Louise and Brandon set up a photo schedule, where she would come and pose a few nights after work, nights when she knew Willard would be away on business.

At the second session, they got right down to it. Louise was naked in no time, and Brandon was happily snapping away. After awhile, he rummaged through his wardrobe and found some negligees and other sexy articles of clothing he'd collected over the years, and he shot a number of images of Louise in a variety of sexy costumes.

That night, alone in her bed with her trusty dildo, Louise had masturbated furiously, coming four times before collapsing in sweaty exhaustion. The whole time, she'd pictured herself naked in front of a roomful of men, and she was letting them do anything they wanted with her.

Louise had taken the money she'd made posing for pictures and had added it to her personal checking account, the one her check from work came to, not the joint account she shared with Willard. She then dashed off a check for $2,000 to one of her creditors. It was a good start.

For the third session, Brandon turned up the heat, so to speak. After snapping Louise in a variety of sexy poses, he told her to touch herself.

"Spread your legs and let me see your pussy," he said.

Louise was as horny as she could recall being in quite some time. Nevertheless she was a little hesitant. But Brandon spoke soothingly and talked her into spreading her legs, fingering her pussy, rolling her stiff nipples and squeezing her breasts.

By the time the session was over, Louise was trembling with stark need. She didn't even make it home before she'd pulled her skirt up and frantically fingered herself to a crashing climax right on the freeway as she was driving home.

She had the vague sense that she was losing control of her sexuality, that the raging urges that had been buried deep inside of her psyche were coming to the surface again, and she was a little afraid.

But she was, frankly, more excited than she'd been in years. She had no urge to gamble, and her need to troll the Internet for sexy stories had diminished.

And that night she'd had more dreams – wild, lurid fantasies of unrestrained sex. She'd awoken in the middle of the night with her hand wedged in her pussy and her body shuddering from a climax that she'd given herself in her sleep.

In spite of her release, she was concerned about what was happening to her. A little voice of caution was piping up, trying to warn her of impending disaster. But it was being drowned out by the excitement of doing something risqué, something that whetted her appetite for lust and her desire for excitement.

The very next night, Louise met Brandon for her fourth session, and she eagerly took her clothes off, and spent quite a long time changing into a variety of sexy costumes while he snapped away.

Finally, however, she was naked again when Brandon told her to touch herself. She spread her legs for his camera, showing her juicy cunt. She worked her fingers in and around her pussy, getting closer and closer to a climax.

She happened to look through lust-glazed eyes and spied the large bulge in Brandon's jeans, and that pushed her over the edge. With a gasp, Louise shuddered as a roaring orgasm slithered through her body.

There was an awkward silence as Louise dressed while Brandon put away his gear. She was feeling a weird combination of satisfaction and shame at having let a man who wasn't her husband watch her have a self-induced orgasm.

And yet, as she drove home that night, she kept seeing Brandon's nice-sized bulge, and he wondered how long she could hold out before she did something she knew she'd regret.

Louise knew her nature, knew what she was capable of when she lost control of her sexuality. It had happened in her youth, when drugs and alcohol had stripped her of her self-discipline, her self-esteem. She had married Willard because he offered a strong, stable personality that could keep her from making the same mistake and wandering astray.

But he'd let loose the ties that bound her psychologically by leaving her alone so much, and she could feel her inner slut slipping out of control.

The next few days, her husband was home, and she'd jumped him with a passion that surprised him. She was hoping to jump-start her relationship with Willard, and had considered calling Brandon to cancel their arrangement.

However, Willard left for another business trip that would take him overseas for a week, and on the second day, after a long night sitting at her computer masturbating, Louise called Brandon to tell him she was ready for another session.

As soon as he hung up the phone, Brandon contacted a friend he knew from the gym where he often went to work out. He explained the set-up, what he wanted, and Jason Spencer was agreeable. Then Brandon went to the bank and withdrew $2,000 in hundred-dollar bills, as an inducement to help Louise make up her mind.

Louise was taken aback when she arrived at Brandon's apartment to find Jason sitting on the sofa and the lights set up in his bedroom. But she couldn't keep her eyes off Jason, because he was eye candy of the first rank.

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byjack_straw© 16 comments/ 254194 views/ 13 favorites

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