Don't Ask, Don't Get

"What's that?" she asked, frowning at the screen.

I reached over and pressed a key to start the video playing, then sat back to watch her reaction. It might have been a trick of the light, but her tan actually seemed to visibly fade. I couldn't see the screen myself, but I knew exactly what she was seeing: the recorded feed from my webcam. I didn't need to see it again. God knows I'd watched it enough times already that evening.

I turned up the volume. The quality wasn't great, but it was clear enough. A tinny female voice intoned the incriminating words. "Well duh, that's what we just said, innit."

Lauren looked away from the screen, not needing to see any more. What had happened was undoubtedly morally questionable. But she was eighteen and legal. She'd entered into the agreement without coercion. Sure, it was pretty disgusting that a forty-year old man would take advantage of a young girl's desire for cash, but it wasn't against the law. And it certainly wasn't rape.

"I'm pretty sure that counts as consent. Wouldn't you say?"

She gave me a look of pure hatred in return. I held her gaze. Right then, I felt no guilt. Hell, we were each as bad as the other; me a dirty old pervert exploiting her need for cash and her a conniving little bitch hoping to extort more money from me. What happened next, however, surprised even me.

She burst into tears.

I had absolutely no idea how to react to that, so I just sat dumbly and waited for her to say something. But instead, she pulled out a chair opposite me, sat down heavily and continued sobbing. Face down, not looking at me. I had no idea if it was some kind of distracting act, or a genuine reaction to being caught out. I caught myself watching the movement of her chest in time with the sobs and realised I found the sight of her crying to be oddly arousing.

I parked that thought. Sometimes I was even sicker than I realised.

"Hey, so this makes us even, right?" I said, more to take my mind away from its perverted train of thought than to offer any comfort. "I did something morally questionable, now you've done the same back to me. No hard feelings."

"You have no fucking idea," she mumbled, between sobs.

"Oh, I think I do," I said, feeling a prickle of annoyance at her histrionic act. "You're a greedy little bitch, and you made some easy money off a dirty old man, then thought you could make even more by lying about what happened afterwards. Except it turns out that your little extortion trick isn't gonna fly, and now you look kinda stupid. I get it, that's gonna sting a bit. But hey, like I said, no hard feelings. And nobody else needs to know."

She looked up, eyes full of tears. Her cheap mascara was already leaving black streaks down her cheeks. I was taken aback - if it was an act, she was actually quite convincing. Again, I felt the surge of arousal at her vulnerability. I knew that was a whole new level of wrong, but I couldn't help it.

"You don't understand. I needed that money," she said quietly.

"Oh, come on. You wanted some big-name clothes you could pose in on Instagram and get lots of likes from hot boys. That's how it works these days, right? Hardly a need."

"Fuck off," she said, loudly again and with real vitriol. "Seriously, you have no idea what is going on."

"Really? Then why don't you enlighten me?"

She sat, looking down, saying nothing for a long time. I had nothing better to do, so I sat watching her sob. Eventually, she looked up.

"You want the fucking truth? Fine, I'll tell you the fucking truth. The money isn't even for me. It's for mum. For all of us. She's fucking useless with finances, and she hasn't paid the rent for the last two months. And now they're gonna evict us again if we don't pay."

Well, that was unexpected.

"I... uh..." I stopped, realising I had nothing to say.

"Don't fucking pretend you care! I got caught robbing in town yesterday and they took all the stuff I lifted. Why do you think I went along with everything earlier? I even pushed Shannon into it as well because once I knew you had that money I knew it could make everything right..." her voice tailed off and she began crying again. If it was a play for sympathy, it was nearly working.

Nearly. But like I said before, I'm not a nice person. And right then, I was beginning to realise I was a lot less nice than even I'd realised.

"You're in a predicament, then," I said, gently. My voice sounded slick. Greasy, like an estate agent.

"A what?" she asked, dumbly. Sniffing.

"You need more money, and you thought you could blackmail me to get it. Now, you've discovered you can't. But you still need that extra cash, right?"

She nodded.

"How much more?"

"Another five hundred," she mumbled. She actually sounded ashamed.

I sucked in air through my teeth, but I still had more than enough left in my pocket to cover that.

"That's a lot, Lauren. But I'm sure we can work something out."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," I said, holding her gaze.

She shook her head.

"No... I ain't doing that again."

"Come on. Was it really that bad? You seemed to be enjoying it, at the time."

"I was fucking pretending, innit, to get your extra fifty."

"What, and you're saying you can't pretend again, for five hundred?"

I saw that flash in her eyes, again. The one I'd thought signified greed, but which now I knew was actually desperation. If I'd have been a nice person, I'd have felt sympathy.

"You're lying," she said, shaking her head. "You won't pay. You've got that video now, so you'll just threaten me with that instead."

I shrugged. To be fair, that approach had indeed crossed my mind.

"That's a chance you'll have to take. But I was fair with you before, wasn't I? This recording," I said, nodding to the laptop, "was going to be for my own entertainment. Nobody else would ever have seen it, if you hadn't come round here threatening to report me for rape."

She looked down, as if embarrassed. She stared into her lap for what felt like a long time, and when she looked back up there was something in her eyes I hadn't seen before: regret. Like the mask had slipped, and I was seeing her true vulnerability beneath the confident, aggressive front that was usually so convincing.

"I'm... sorry," she whispered. She actually sounded genuine. "Please don't show it to anyone."

I let the moment draw out a little, wondering at the change which had come over her. It was such a sudden transformation, from the harsh, confident, aggressive young woman to a much softer, nervous, more submissive girl.

"Alright then, I won't," I said gently. "And I will actually pay you the five hundred you need as well. You have my word on that. All I'm asking is that you do something for me in return, like you did earlier. Although... we'd need to go a little further this time, obviously."

I knew that what I was doing was completely, utterly, reprehensible. She was confused, upset and vulnerable. But right then, all I could see in my mind's eye were those glorious tanned buttocks slapping wetly against my thighs. That wasn't the sort of thing a decent, good man would have been thinking. But then, I hadn't been a decent, good man for a long time. Maybe, never at all.

"What do you mean, further?" she asked. I was surprised she couldn't guess.

"A little back-door action, of course."

"No! I don't like it up there. It hurts..." she complained, and started to cry again.

"No pain, no gain, right?" I said, softly. "But hey, it's completely up to you. I mean, if there's a better way of getting your hands on five hundred quid tonight, feel free to go do that instead."

That just increased the intensity of her sobs. The tears were coming thick and fast again, but I didn't care about that. As long as she was sitting there, she wasn't getting up and leaving. Which meant my offer was still in contention.

I got up and fetched a box of tissues - the same one I'd given her to wipe my come off her tits in the hall before. She grabbed a couple and began dabbing at her eyes. It seemed like all the harshness, the crudeness and aggression had drained away from her. Despite what I knew of her, she actually looked strangely innocent. I found that almost unbearably arousing.

"Thanks," she mumbled. I watched as she dabbed at her cheeks, trying to wipe off the black stains. "Have you still got the cash here?" she asked.

I felt my heart beat faster. The familiar adrenaline rush started. I nodded, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Of course. Why, don't you trust me?"

"Of course I don't. You fucking recorded what happened before," she replied. There was a hint of the old Lauren still there, but the malice had gone from her voice.

"And you tried running off with my twenty quid earlier," I pointed out, reasonably. "Oh, and threatened to blackmail me as well. Maybe we should forget about trust and just see this as business."

"How can you..." she started, but her voice tailed off. I was glad she didn't finish the question, because it was one whose answer I didn't really want to face. How could I do this? To brazenly take advantage of a young girl and see it as nothing more than a business deal? In truth, it was simply because I was a horny old goat whose libido was capable of overriding all other emotional considerations. But she didn't have to know that.

"So, do we have a deal, or not?" I pushed.

Time seemed to slow down, as I waited for her to respond. My heart was pounding in my chest; my breathing elevated in anticipation of her answer.

After what seemed like an age, she nodded meekly, and my heart nearly stopped. Fucking hell. Game on. Again.

"Can I use the bathroom first? Clean myself up a bit?" she asked, indicating her tear-stained face. I nearly told her not to bother - that I liked her looking like that - but I figured that wouldn't go down too well.

"Sure. Lead on," I said.

She got up and headed out of the living room. I followed her up the stairs. She didn't seem bothered about me walking behind her this time. I watched the movement of her arse in the tight shorties as she ascended. Her phone was tucked into the top of them, but it didn't detract from their fabulous shape. Christ, I was going to be feeling that supple skin beneath my hands again, in a matter of minutes. I turned my attention to her thighs, which were still young enough for there not to be a hint of cellulite. How many forty-year old blokes could get their hands on that kind of a body? Not fucking many, that was for sure. And then, only those who could afford to pay.

Walking up the stairs became more difficult as my dick went hard as a rock.

"I'll get the cash," I said, as we reached the top of the stairs.

I headed into my bedroom, whilst Lauren went straight into the bathroom. I retrieved my cash, counted it out onto the bedside table again, then undressed. I sat naked on the edge of the bed, listening to the sounds of the party coming from outside, desperately trying to resist touching my erection whilst I waited for her to finish.

It took her longer than I was expecting and I gave in, rubbing myself gently as the imaginary pictures of what I was about to do filled my head. When she eventually came into the bedroom, I was surprised to see her eyes still wet. I should have felt pity, then. Sympathy, even. But instead, I felt my cock still twitching in anticipation. She looked at it without disgust this time. Just resignation.

"You got any more coke?" she asked, hopefully.

I shook my head, and she sighed, deflated.

"The money's over there," I said, nodding to the bedside table where I'd placed the thick wad of notes.

She picked it up, and stuffed it down the back of her shorties.

"Uh, they're coming off in a minute, so you might just want to leave it where it is.

She dutifully pulled the cash back out, along with her phone, and placed them both on the bedside table. She looked broken. Defeated. All the aggression and snark and confidence had slipped away, leaving her looking lost and alone. Had I done that to her? Maybe. That didn't make me feel good about myself, but then I was used to that feeling. And the fact was, she looked even more alluring to my perverted mind.

Without waiting for further instruction, she tugged at the pink vest and wrestled the clingy material awkwardly over her head, revealing the black bra underneath. It was one of those push-up ones that squeezed her tits together to amplify her cleavage. It was doing a very nice job indeed.

She reached behind to unfasten it.

"Wait, leave that a moment. Shorts next."

She grabbed the tight material of the shorties either side and began to peel them down her thighs. As she bent over towards me, I got a briefly delightful view down her bra, before her long hair fell down in front of her and obscured it. She kicked off her sneakers and stepped awkwardly out of the shorties, then stood in front of me in just her black bra and a skimpy black thong, saying nothing.

"Turn round. Let me see your arse again."

Obediently, she turned to face the wall. My eyes traced the line of black material as it disappeared between her fabulous butt cheeks. She shifted on her feet slightly, and her arse moved alluringly. It was all I could do right then to stop myself from throwing her on the bed and getting my cock right up her tight little brown hole.

Instead, I stood up and started stroking myself harder. She glanced behind her briefly, then looked away hurriedly when she saw me. I knew I wasn't an appealing sight for her. Something - some last vestige of my self-esteem perhaps - felt an unexpected tinge of sadness at that, but I pushed that thought away. It didn't matter whether she found me attractive or not. The exchange of money saw to that.

Breathing hard, I reached out and ran my hand gently down her body, feeling the tiny fuzz of blonde hair which covered the small of her back, with its curlicued cliché of a tattoo. She flinched at my initial touch, then appeared to steel herself. I gently held each side of her tummy, feeling the delicious softness of her skin, the layer of excess fat yielding to my touch. I remembered earlier, how it felt to grip her harder, to pull her back towards me so I could thrust into her. I resisted the urge to do again, right then. I wanted to make the whole experience last, so I could savour every moment.

Careful not to allow my raging hard cock to make contact with her, I ran each hand slowly down to her hips, gripped either side of her black thong and peeled it down a short way, just so it clung underneath her butt. She didn't protest; she was utterly compliant.

"Wow. That looks amazing. You look amazing." I wasn't even lying, right then. Her rear was perfectly smooth - no spots or crinkles, and with just the hint of a bikini tan line that wasn't enough to detract from the gorgeous curves.

I continued to stroke myself gently with one hand, using the other to gently massage the soft flesh in front of me. She was staring straight at the wall in front of her, and I could feel the tension in her body as my hands gently explored her curves, although I forced myself to stay away from her intimate areas. I pulled again on the thong, tugging it down far enough to be released from between her legs so it dropped to the floor.

"Lose the bra," I instructed.

She reached up and undid the clasp, then shrugged herself out of it. With her blonde hair cascading down her tanned back, and that gorgeous butt now fully on show, she really did look fucking hot.

"Look at me,"

She glanced back over her shoulder, then turned away again as I moved in closer, nuzzling her shoulder. She leaned away from me, trying to escape my hot breath on her skin. I caught the smell of perfume and cigarette smoke in her hair.

"Are they going to miss you, at the party?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I never said where I was going."

"Shannon?"

She shook her head. "She doesn't know I'm here."

"Why not? I'd have thought she'd be up for a little blackmail?"

She looked down, guiltily, and said nothing. I realised why she'd come alone.

"Of course," I continued. "You didn't want to share the proceeds, right?"

She gave a tiny nod.

"Okay, well, time for you to get earning that cash, then. Get yourself ready," I instructed.

She headed over to the bed whilst I went to my bedside cupboard and retrieved a small bottle of lubricant. I squirted some out and slathered it over my length, as Lauren got herself into position on all fours, waiting for me nervously. Was this really the same girl who'd brazenly climbed into my garden and verbally abused me? Who'd snorted coke and got off with her friend in front of me? Who'd pretended to be a porn slut just to earn another fifty quid? Who'd confidently marched into my house and threatened to ruin my life? It seemed impossible, yet there she was, kneeling obediently on my bed, stripped naked and ready for me to do whatever I pleased with her body.

I really had broken her. The thrill that gave me was almost unimaginable in its intensity.

I approached her from behind, taking in that glorious view. She had her head down, staring at my grubby bedlinen whilst she presented her rear to me. She sniffed, and a tear dripped onto the sheet below, leaving a black splatter from her mascara. It couldn't have been any clearer that she didn't want what was coming next. I didn't care. That's why I was paying her.

I slipped a finger down the crack of her arse, searching out for her sweet, tight little rear hole, then pressed the end of my finger firmly against it. Not pushing in, just letting her know what was coming. I felt her whole body go rigid. This wasn't going to be easy. For her, anyway.

I squirted a bit more lube onto my hands. Covering my middle finger in the oily liquid, I slipped it down again and began gently probing further. The slick lubricant allowed me to easily insert my digit - first an inch, then two. I wormed it around gently, feeling her tense up as I did so. I explored further, pushing against the tight walls inside, preparing her for what was to come.

"Do you want to feel my cock in there?" I asked, slipping my finger out.

"Yes, Mr Reynolds." She knew the act, already. But I could feel her shaking beneath my touch, and there were more black spots on the sheet beneath her face, now.

"Say it, then," I commanded.

"I want your cock in my arse," she said, flatly but louder. It would have been more convincing if she hadn't been crying. Although of course, that just added to my arousal.

I began to manoeuvre myself into position. For a brief moment, some last remnant of my conscience tugged at me. Maybe I shouldn't do this. Maybe I should just let her go back to her party. Maybe I should just give her the cash anyway, to redeem myself before it was too late.

Right. Like that was going to happen. But still, I felt compelled to give her one last chance to pull out.

"Lauren, we don't have to do this," I said, reluctantly.

She looked back over her shoulder at me, sniffing. The streaks of black were running down her cheeks again. She looked so much younger, all messed up like that, and somehow it made her prettier than when she was all dolled up to perfection. My heart beat faster in response, stirring up feelings of real attraction that I had to push back down. She was just a little slut I was going to fuck for money. Nothing more.

"Yes, we fucking do," she replied. The words themselves were angry, but her voice was dull and emotionless. "I told you, I need the money. Mum's blown our last cash taking the others away for the weekend, cos she knows the council will find us a bedsit. But I don't want another fucking bedsit. I like it here..."

She turned away and started sobbing again. In her mind, she was in an impossible situation. I knew it wasn't impossible at all. It was one I had the power to fix, if I chose to do the right thing. But I couldn't help it. I stared at those gorgeous, pendulous tits, rippling gently beneath her as she cried. I gorged my eyes on that glorious, sweet butt just swaying there in front me, ready for the taking. And I knew with absolute certainty that the right thing was never going to be my choice to make.