Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn Ch. 02

This is just the second chapter in a longer story. For character background and storylines, please check out the earlier stories. I hope you enjoy.

I jumped in that old car and drove away down that manicured drive as fast as I could. I was excited, anxious and scared to death all at once.

Did that really happen? Did I really just get a blow job from Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn? Was I really crazy enough with lust and power to blackmail the richest, most powerful woman in town into sucking my dick?

Nearing town, I pulled into the McDonald's and parked. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. There, there was the evidence. Pictures 001-006. Each one showing her gripping my cock.

And each one showing her face covered in my cum. Her mouth open, her lips and tongue slightly redder that normal, no doubt from the blow job she had just given me.

Looking at those pictures made my cock swell again. That feeling of power, that feeling of absolute power at the moment of her surrender, when she had no choice but to obey my demands, was overwhelming.

Something about knocking that rich, beautiful, arrogant, stuck-up bitch off her pedestal was incredibly rewarding. Knowing how repulsed she was at what I made her do to me brought even more satisfaction.

And let's not forget that blow job itself. Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn could suck dick better than anyone I had had in my young life. Even better than Anita.

Ah, yes, Anita. The subject of my wet dreams and adolescent fantasies. Anita Patterson, the older woman who only would give me that one-time experience. I wanted to have so much more with her than she would allow.

But now there was Cooze-anne. She was just as old as Anita, physically prettier but with a much worse personality. Who cares about her personality? I wasn't going to marry her, only fuck her.

Both bodies were incredible. Anita's breasts were much bigger but Cooze-anne had better legs and a nicer ass.

And Cooze-anne was going nowhere anytime soon. These pictures on my phone would insure that. No, there were many more ways I wanted to use Cooze-anne before I was finished with her.

I put the phone away and drove home happily. It was quite the kick watching the news that evening, the little three minute blurb about the Mayor's fundraiser, seeing his beautiful wife in the pictures with him, her arm around him, smiling, knowing that only a few hours earlier my dick was in between those pretty, smiling lips.

This was shaping up to be a great summer. So great in fact, I decided to skip school the next semester. Mom and Dad were none too thrilled, but I had much more important things on my young, lust-filled mind. Like how I was going to approach Cooze-anne and what I wanted her to do next.

I kept my job at the dress shop as cover. Who knows? It was proving to be quite the hunting ground for my sexual conquests.

That's what Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn was, a conquest. I wasn't interested in anything other than using her for my own pleasure. The fact that I repulsed her made it even more enticing.

It also made it that much more scary. Her husband was rich and powerful. He was the Mayor. Every police man I saw was a potential threat to my well-being. All it took was one rogue cop who wanted career advancement and I could end up in the hospital.

And what about her boyfriend? I didn't know the first thing about that guy and he might want to play knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress.

At every turn was the potential for harm and disaster, but it only added to my excitement. I wasn't a kid anymore.

That first week I just kind of waited to see what repercussions there were to my little meeting with Mrs. Hawthorn. To my surprise, it was a week like any other.

'No,' I thought, 'she didn't tell anyone.' As each day passed, I was more certain that Mrs. Hawthorn kept our little encounter to herself. I smiled as I knew she was mine. All I had to do was set it up.

Now, for this to progress as I hoped it would, I knew I had to keep our relationship secret. As much as I wanted to humiliate her, bring her down to the level of all of us other 'commoners', I also knew that secrecy was the leverage. That, and those pictures.

Because if either ever became public knowledge, my upper hand was lost and we would be through. So, everything from here forward would have to be on the down-low, between only her and I, her dirty little secret and my hedonistic fantasies come-to-life.

I decided I needed to print off a few pictures to start things up. After all, this was going to be a battle and I better have some ammunition. I found three that I thought would get her attention.

One of that man with his hands between her legs and another of them kissing in the glass elevator, his hands under her skirt and groping her delicious ass. The third was a picture of my cock dangling above her face, a thread of cum dripping down, seeking her soft skin like the balance of that load

I printed them and placed them in a manila envelope with the name "Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn" written on the front. Then I printed a note telling her "Come to the dress shop tomorrow morning at 10:00. Bring your check book."

I knew where they lived but I was certain I'd get caught sneaking onto the Hawthorn estate. Instead, I parked my old car on the street and waited for her to drive out for the day.

It was hard to miss her. She drove a big, black Cadillac with gold trim. Pretentious, just like the owner. I followed that big Cadillac as it drove towards town.

Clearly, Cooze-anne was running a few errands. 'Perfect!' I thought. I followed her from stop to stop, always parking nearby. Today was a perfect summer day and she drove with the windows down to get some fresh air.

Stop after stop, I waited for my opportunity. Finally, she stopped at a local bakery in town and parked along the curb in front. Quickly, I gathered up the envelope and waited for her to go inside. Then, I walked along the sidewalk and nonchalantly tossed the envelope inside her car and onto the driver's seat.

I made my way immediately back toward my car, parked just enough around the corner that I could see her. I watched as she picked up the envelope and turned her head from side to side, searching for any indication of who left the package for.

I watched as she hesitantly opened the envelope. Her mouth immediately gaped open as she saw the first picture. She instantly looked around again, frantically from side to side, now searching for me.

Looking back down, she saw the second and then third pictures. Immediately, she read the note and I could see her turn white with fear. That fear soon was replaced by anger, her face and neck reddening by the second.

She fired up that Cadillac, slammed it in gear and pulled out into traffic, speeding off to fume over what had just happened. I laughed and drove back home.

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough for me but it eventually did. I was even early for work today, bubbling with anticipation of what was about to happen. My cock was already beginning to swell.

Finally, in walked Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn. 10:00, right on time. Immediately, the floor staff at the store scattered, leaving only her and I.

As always, she was impeccably dressed. Today, she had on a light one-piece that clung just enough to her curves to make my cock throb in anticipation. Again, her hair and make-up were flawless and she would be an absolutely stunning woman if only she smiled occasionally.

Unfortunately, her presence in the store today was not one of those occasions. Once she spied me, she marched over, her lip curled in an almost undetectable snarl.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Hawthorn," I said loud and cheerily. "What can I do for you today?"

"First," she replied in a hushed, angry whisper, "you can knock off the pleasantries. I'm only here to pay you for those pictures and then I hope to never see your disgusting face again."

Smiling, I replied in an equally hushed, angry whisper, "You're going to do everything I tell you to do or those pictures end up with your husband, your lover's wife and the newspaper. Got it?"

Ignoring me, she reached into her purse for her check book. "How much is it going to take?" she angrily asked.

"Apparently, you don't get it," I replied. "You're here to buy a dress. The most expensive dress I can find."

"I don't need anything from this store ever again," she retorted. Her light blue eyes were cold as she glared at me, her pouty lips pursed in defiance.

Still smiling for the benefit of the employees peeking out of the backroom, I leaned forward and continued in a hushed voice, "I don't give a shit what you want or need. You're going to buy that dress and try it on. Otherwise, those pictures go out."

She looked at me, pissed off and confused, through glaring eyes. "Something nice and expensive, right Cooze-anne?" I added.

If she could have, she would have exploded right then and there. She started to visibly shake as I continued staring her down. Finally, she said, "Fine. What rag do you want me to buy?"

"Excellent! This way Ma'am," I said loudly. I took her back towards the designer evening gowns. There was something from Paris, a Dior original, that was in her size. Price tag: $5,000.

"I wouldn't give you 5 cents for this sack," she huffed under her breath.

Ignoring her, I said, "You'll look absolutely gorgeous in this Ma'am." "Of course you may try it on. The dressing rooms are this way."

She snatched the gown and made her way into the dressing room area. Fortunately, I had closed all of the doors except one. That room. The dressing room that Anita and I shared.

Seeing as no one was coming out from the back room just yet, I waited a few seconds and followed her into the dressing room. Standing, fully clothed, she stared at me in the full length mirror.

"What do you think you're doing?" she angrily asked. "Get the hell out of here before I scream and everyone comes running."

I stood with my back to the door and pulled out a folded paper from my back pocket. As I unfolded it, I said, "Now, Cooze-anne, we don't want to do that. I'd have to show this picture."

I held up the picture of her cum-streaked face as she jacked off my cock. "You're a pig!" she said through clenched teeth and in a harsh whisper. "What do you want?"

"What I want is for you to try on that dress," I said matter-of-factly.

Irate, she replied, "Now? Here? In front of you?" I simply smiled and nodded. "No! Absolutely not! Look, I'll pay you. Anything you want. But this has to stop. Right here, right now."

I simply shook my head and said, "Stop? No, no Cooze-anne. We're just getting started." Her anger slowly diminished as the realization that I was not going to do as she said began to sink in.

"Stop calling me that disgusting name you pig," she ordered through watering eyes.

"I'll call you whatever I want," I replied. "Look, I don't have all day. Now, put on the dress or I walk out. Make up your mind," I said as I waved the picture at her.

She stood there silently defiant for some time. Her eyes narrowed and her pouty lips curled in anger. I shook my shoulders and turned to leave, stopping only when I heard her say, "Fine!"

Turning back, I watched as Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn spun away from me and looked into the mirror. She met my stare in the reflection and realized there was no place to hide in the small room.

Her eyes moistened still as she slowly reached behind her back. Her manicured fingers found the tab of the zipper between her shoulder blades and she slowly unzipped her dress down.

In one quick motion, the garment slipped off her shoulders, down her back and down to her hips. She pushed the dress over her sensuously curved hips and stepped out. She held it in front of her, trying to hide but giving me a glorious view of her thonged-covered ass.

"Mmmm, very nice Cooze-anne. I always wanted to see that ass of yours." I reached out and gave it a quick slap. "Now, hang it up so it doesn't wrinkle."

The tears in her eyes stopped and the anger re-emerged. Good, I liked it better that way. I liked watching her defiantly surrender.

She did as she was told and stood in front of the mirror in gray heels, white lace thong and matching bra. Her body was perfect.

Her breasts were definitely smaller than Anita's. No one in this area code could match breast size with Anita Patterson. But Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn's tits were still nice. Smaller but still full, they filled out her bra nicely, especially with her nipples stiffening behind the shear fabric.

It was that body that was making my cock ache. Even in her mid to late thirties, Suzanne Hawthorn's ass looked like you could bounce a quarter off of it. Round and full, perfectly accentuated in that thong diving down between her cheeks. I thought I was going to cum right there.

Her hips were rounded nicely and the thong rested high up, at the beginning of that curve near her waist. Her legs were long for her size, athletic looking with lean muscle. Her calf's popped out perfectly in her heels. The only thing missing was a smile.

"I'll say it again Cooze-anne, very nice. I know that boyfriend of yours loves fucking you with a body like that." She glared at me in the mirror.

"But," I continued, "this dress is strapless. That bra has gotta go."

Her glare intensified as she reached behind her back and unhooked the delicate garment. She quickly slipped it off and stood in front of the mirror, not even trying to hide her nudity.

"Take a good look pig, because that's all you're going to get," she snarled. Her natural breasts seemed just a bit large for her delicate frame. Full, delicious breasts topped with small, dark brown nipples that protruded obscenely in her excited state.

I smiled and handed her the dress. Ignoring her, I said "Put this on."

She snatched it from me and was more than willing to cover herself up. In seconds, she had slipped the dress on and zipped it up from behind.

She looked absolutely breathtaking. The plunging neckline dove low enough to show the right amount of cleavage. The dress was tight enough through the hips and thighs to hint at the glorious body hidden underneath.

"Very nice. Perfect for the Mayor's ball next month," I said. My cock ached in my pants, throbbing, as I added, "after I fuck you in it."

"Like Hell you will!" she growled. "Your fun is over, you disgusting pig. Give me those pictures before this gets ugly."

Her threats had no affect on me. I wanted to make this bitch give in to me. My cock ached for relief. I lowered my eyes, and growled back, "I'm tired of arguing with you, slut. Take out my cock and suck it or I'll turn over these pictures."

I held the picture in front of her. Mrs. Hawthorn stared at it. Even through the cum streaks on her face, it was undeniably her in that picture.

Her anger was slowly subsiding and I could see the tears welling in her eyes again. Showing no mercy, I forged ahead when I saw her spirit beginning to crumble.

In a low snarl, I growled, "Get on your knees, take out my cock and suck it like a good little slut. I'm not gonna say it again."

She looked down at the bulge in my pants. Her hands started to shake and she began to cry. I watched as she hung her head low and knelt in front of me in that designer dress. Her tears began to run down her cheek as she reached for my buckle.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked through her tears, all the while undoing my pants.

I said nothing as she pulled my pants and underwear down. My erection once again sprang at her like a perverted Jack-In-The-Box. It bobbed obscenely in her face and she slowly looked up at it.

She stared at it for a few seconds and tentatively reached out and gripped my hard shaft. Slowly, she stuck her tongue out and flicked across my hot, swollen head.

"Mmmm, that's it. My cock missed you. Show me how much you missed sucking me slut."

She sniffled and continued crying as she slowly licked my cock head. Slowly, she began to lick up and down my length, her saliva making my erection slick.

Up and down, Mrs. Suzanne Hawthorn licked my cock like an ice cream cone. Her tears mixed with her spit, creating a nice lubrication between her hand and my cock.

Glaring down at her, I said, "Enough of that. Stand up slut."

Confused, she remained kneeling in front of me with my cock still in her hand. "I said, stand up slut."

I gripped her arm by the elbow and began raising her to her feet. She dropped my dick and stared at me, her lipstick smeared slightly from licking my cock.

"Turn around," I ordered as I put my hands on her shoulders and spun her. She stood in front of me, facing the mirror in that elegant dinner gown. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Put your hands on the mirror and bend forward," I commanded.

Suddenly, she understood what I had planned. Suzanne whimpered through her tears, "No. Please. Don't make me. Don't do this to me."

I took the picture, licked the back of it and slapped it against the mirror in front of her. It stuck to the glass, the visual reminder of our last encounter. She stared at it for some time and then slowly moved her hands as I had ordered.

She placed one on each side of the picture and leaned forward, as if she wanted a better view. I looked down from behind. My God, her ass was perfect in that dress. I looked back up at her reflection in the mirror and our eyes met.

"Hike your skirt over your hips, slut."

Her tears continued as she reached back and grabbed the hem of the dress in both hands. Slowly, she pulled up, wiggling her hips just a bit to allow the material to move upward.

She watched me in the mirror as I stared at her ass. Round and full, amazingly taught for a woman her age. I reached out with my hand, cupping and squeezing the warm, round flesh of her delicious ass.

No longer in tears, she said in a low whisper, "You're nothing but a pig." I pulled my hand back and slapped her ass hard, the sound ringing in the small room.

Mrs. Hawthorn inhaled sharply, her eyes wide in the mirror, and let out a small yelp. I reached out and yanked down her thong, pulling it down her thighs. At knee level, it dropped to the floor.

"Step out of it, slut." She did as I ordered and I kicked her underwear to the corner. Placing one hand on the small of her back just above that round ass, I placed the other on her upper back and nudged her forward and down.

She took my cue and spread her legs slightly apart. She placed both hands again on the mirror and bent forward, the dress bunched up around her waist, supported there by her round, sensuous hips.

Her ass looked like heaven. So warm and inviting, I knew I didn't have much longer before I'd explode.

I stepped up behind her, my hands on her ass cheeks, and pointed my cock at her pussy. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Now, move back and take my cock slut."

Her head snapped back toward me as she spat, "You're an animal. Pathetic."

I slapped her ass again, harder this time. Her eyes widened and she yelped again at her reflection. "I said, fuck yourself on my cock, Cooze-anne."

She looked at the picture in front of her stuck against the mirror, and then back at my reflection. Her upper lip curled in contempt. Slowly, I felt her pushing back against me, her warm pussy slowly gliding across my cockhead.

Slowly, she pushed herself back against my cock and I felt her opening. Inch by taunting inch, she pushed herself onto my cock. The slick head probing as she moved back. Slick with her saliva, tears and a bit of moisture from her pussy.

I whispered in her ear again, "You love this, don't you slut?"

Her head snapped back towards me again as she continued taking my cock inside her. "You disgust me, you dirty, filthy pig," she snarled.