Young Dean Does Mrs. Lowe

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He blackmails his stuck up neighbor.
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It was right there on the screen in front of me, but I still could not believe it. My next door neighbor, as naked as the day she was born. I had been browsing some voyeur-hidden camera sites and noticed a series of shots that got my attention. I had clicked on the thumbnail of one of the pictures and to my total surprise, there was Mrs. Lowe, our neighborhood leader, completely naked on her knees, on a bed with a naked man standing beside her. He looked familiar, but I could not place him.

At first I had thought that there was no way this was Mrs. Lowe, but then I looked for the one distinguishing mark that I knew she had and there it was! As plain as day, there was a purple birthmark on her left forearm in the shape of a crescent moon. There was no denying it, this WAS Mrs. Lowe. After my initial shock, I looked at the entire series of pictures and was astounded to see Mrs. Lowe in a variety of poses on the bed with the man who was in the original picture. Some of the shots looked posed and were very clear, as though she had knowingly allowed the pictures to be taken, but others were a bit grainy, and showed her and the man fucking. The hardcore pictures were obviously screen captures from a film taken by a hidden camera. She did not appear to be aware of the cameras presence.

Even though they were not of the quality of the posed pictures, it was still unmistakably Mrs. Lowe laying on the bed with the unknown man on top of her, with his cock filling her pussy. I was simply floored by what I had just discovered. I immediately downloaded the entire series, and made copies on several floppies. I did not know what I was going to do with them yet, but I knew that I did not want to take any chance of losing them.

My name is Dean and my family has been neighbors of the Lowes for about 6 years. We are a poor family who came into a LARGE amount of money a few years ago, thanks to my dad buying a winning lottery ticket and moved to this neighborhood as a result of the windfall. While no one here has ever really treated us badly, we have never really been accepted either. The people here are relatively well off, and have always known luxury, but we come from a different social status and just never fit in. We moved here when I was 12 and I just turned 18 a couple of weeks ago. I had just graduated from high school and was taking a long summer break before going off to college.

My parents had decided that since I was now 18 that I could be left alone and they had left a week earlier for a two month around-the-world vacation. Other than the house and a decent car, they had never really taken advantage of their newfound wealth. I was glad to see them using the money for some fun finally. So there I was, all alone in the house, a large checking account and all the freedom a guy could ask for. What was I doing with that freedom? Nothing. I am extremely shy and don't have a lot of close friends, so I was just sitting at home, looking for good jerk off material on the net when I made my discovery.

Now, let me tell you about the Lowe family and Mrs. Lowe in particular. The family consisted of Mr. Lowe, who is a leader in the local religious community. He is the pastor of the wealthiest church in our city. Even though he is the pastor, he rarely preaches there, as he is the author of several books on theology and spends most of his time on the road promoting his books or performing as a guest speaker around the country. To be honest, in the six years we have lived here, I have not seen very much of Mr. Lowe, as he is rarely home. Then of course there is Mrs. Lowe, but I will speak more of her after I have described the rest of the Lowe family. I went to school with the two oldest Lowe children. Mike is the oldest, one year older than me and he had left the year earlier to go to college. Mike and I had actually become pretty good friends over the years and he had actually treated me and my family very good. He is a good guy and I had come to miss him since he had gone away.

The second oldest was their daughter Michelle. In the same class with me at school, she was a beautiful girl, and I had a VERY big crush on her. But while Michelle never treated me badly, she was in a whole different league from me. She was popular in school, involved in every club and activity, including cheerleading. Me, like I said, I never fit in. I was too tall, too skinny and just too damned backwards and shy to be involved in any school social program. Michelle was courted by all the popular guys in school and was rarely home, always out on dates, so I just appreciated what few glimpses of her I got when she was home. Mrs. Lowe had noticed my crush on Michelle and had taken me aside at one point and told me that she understood my affection for her daughter, she felt that it would be best if I did not act on it. She said she was looking out for my feelings, but I knew she just felt that Michelle was too good for trash like me.

Then there was the youngest Lowe child, a second daughter named Melissa. Lissa for short. She was several years younger than me, having just turned 15. She was just as pretty as her sister, and turning out to be quite the hottie, but until recently, I had just always thought of her as the kid.

Both Michell and Lissa had gone to visit relatives out of state as part of their summer vacation and would not be home for over a month. I hated hearing that they were going away for the summer as I enjoyed watching them lounge around their home. I was especially sad that I would not be seeing them getting sun in their backyard. I did not know that I would soon have reason to be glad that they were out of the picture.

Then there was Mrs. Lowe. Mrs. Lowe was a very attractive woman. I would not say she was beautiful in a movie star way, but she had a very pretty face, and a great body that looked so damned classy in the type of clothes she always wore. Her standard uniform was a very dignified suit dress, that hugged her curves and had driven me to my room on many occasions to relieve my self when she strutted around the neighborhood on whatever pretense she needed. The Lowe's had a backyard pool and I made a habit of being near a window when she chose to take a swim. While conservative in public, she had no problem in wearing skimpy clothing at home. Her preferred bathing suit was an extremely skimpy bikini that showed that although she was nearing 50, if she had not already passed that milestone, she had a body that a 20 year old would be proud of. Mrs. Lowe was a petite woman, but she had outstanding breasts, a tiny waist and a tight, perfectly formed ass that filled her tight, just above the knee skirts to perfection.

Mrs. Lowe liked to be the big shot. She was always calling together some kind of neighborhood meeting for this or that. She organised charity drives and spearheaded local programs. She was very active in her husbands church and she loved the sense of power her position as the pastor's wife gave her. While she was not a bad person, and was tolerent of my friendship with Mike, she always seemed to be a little condescending towards me and my parents. I could tell that she just did not think that we were good enough for the neighborhood. Mrs. Lowe also had something of a mean streak in her that came out on many occasions when I was visiting Mike in their home. I think she knew that I had noticed her considerable physical charms, and she would almost always change into some sheer, revealing nightgown when I was there late and make excuses to parade around in front of me. This drove me crazy, seeing her body through the translucent material, watching her bend over for whatever reason, giving me an eagle shot at her ample cleavage. I could tell her behaviour bothered Mike but we never spoke of it. I have no illusions that her actions were meant to be an offer to me, but rather I think she just enjoyed the attention and got off on teasing a hormonal young man, knowing that it was torturing me.

Now there I was sitting at my computer, staring at what was obvious proof of Mrs. Lowe's being unfaithful to her pastor husband. I was beginning to form a plan to make those pictures work for me, but I was unsure if I had the courage to actually go through with what I was planning. With these pictures, I figured that I could blackmail Mrs. Lowe. Not for money. My family had plenty of that. I wanted Mrs. Lowe. I wanted to have her every way I could imagine. I wanted to get her back for everytime she had teased me with her near nudity in her home. I wanted to get her back for everytime I felt she was tilting up her nose at me and my parents. The two biggest hurdles would be figuring out just how to approach it, and getting my nerve up to actually do it. Luckily, several things were working in my favor. With her family gone, Mrs. Lowe would be all alone. Second, without a man at home, she had gotten into the habit of asking me over to help her do various chores that she could not, or would not do herself. It was not unusual for me to come to her door. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that what I had in mind would actually have a chance.

I decided that it would be best to not approach her directly. I wanted her to be on the defensive and I knew that if I tried to show her what I had acquired face to face, I was liable to back down and ruin it before it even began. I wrote a note to her on my computer and printed it out with instructions to open the files that were on the accompanying floppy disk. I put these in an envelope and mailed them to her. The note also included instructions to contact the sender (me, although she would not know that), through her ICQ, which I knew she had on her system because I was the one who set it up for her. I had created an identity on my ICQ just for this occasion. Once I had mailed the package, all I had to do was wait.

At the time I had specified in my note, I was sitting at my computer, as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, waiting for a message from her to pop up on the screen. I knew that I had the upper hand, and that she would not know it was me, until I was ready to let her know. I had plenty of time to make her agree to whatever I asked, before she found out what she was agreeing to. I stood up and started to pace my room, constantly looking out my window through her windows, making sure she was there. She was. I could see her pacing nervously as well. I was afraid that she would not contact me, that she would just attempt to call my bluff, when I heard the ICQ tone that let me know that a message had come through. It had to be her.

"Hello. Are you there?" What a pleasant greeting to someone who was trying to blackmail you, I thought.

"Yes" I replied tersely.

"What do you want?" she asked. Ah, getting right down to business.

"We'll get to what I want soon" I replied through the computer. "What is more important at the moment is that you understand what I already have."

"Where did you get those pictures?" she demanded knowing. "Is this you playing some kind of sick practical joke, Dave?"

"Dave" I thought. Who's Dave? Then it dawned on me that the man in the pictures must be Dave. I searched my mind for any "Dave" that I was aware of that knew the Lowes, and a picture of one of the church deacons flashed into my mind. I had seen him visit the Lowe home on many occasions, but had always assumed that he was there on church business. That's why he had seemed familiar.

"No, this is not Dave." I responded. "But I know that Dave is the man in the pictures with you, and I am sure that your husband would love to know what one of his deacons and his wife have been up to while he is out spreading the gospel"

There were no message from her for a few seconds. I assumed that she was taking in the severity of her problem.

"You had best not disappear from here." I typed and sent.

"I won't." came her reply.

"Who are you?" she asked. "How do you know so much about me? Do I know you?"

"Yes, you know me, but that is my secret until I am ready to let you know more."

"Where did you get those pictures?" she asked for the second time.

"I got them from some very obscure site on the internet. I doubt very much that you have to worry that anyone else of your acquaintence will stumble across them" I said.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked.

"I can't guarantee you anything regarding that, but it is a very small site, and chances are like most small sex sites, it will be closed in a couple of months. I was just lucky when I came across it." I reassured her, smiling a bit at my unentended pun. "I think the only thing you should have to worry about regarding the pictures is me."

"How much money is this going to cost me?" she asked, trying to take control of the situation.

"It's not money I want." I informed her.

There was another long pause. I figured that she was mulling over just what that implied.

"What is it you want then?" she asked. But I believed she already knew the answer.

"I want some of what Davey boy has been getting." I came right to the point.

"That is out of the question! I don't even know who you are, and there is no way I will let you touch me!" She screamed across the internet.

"I think you will." I calmly replied.

"NO!!! There is no way in hell!" she argued.

"I think there is. In fact I don't think you have accepted your position here. I have collected the e-mail addresses of all the big wheels at your church and with the touch of a button, they will all find some very interesting correspondence the next time they log on. Now just what do you think that will do to your standing in the community?" I threatened.

Another long pause from her. A very long pause. I stood and looked out my window and I could see her pacing again in her lovely home. Then she disappeared from view and a few moments later I received her response.

"How do you want to do this?" She replied in apparent defeat.

"Ok. First, I want you to understand that you now belong to me. This is not a one time thing. You are now my property. I have these pictures copied and hidden in several locations, so anytime you think that you can get out of this, I will make sure that they are on every computer in the city. Do you fully understand this and accept it as well?"

Another pause, but shorter this time.

"Yes." came her weak reply.

"I will come to your home in one hour. I will be sure that no one sees me. I want you to greet me at the front door. Don't make me wait. I want you to be wearing one of your classy jacketed dresses. The red one with the white silk blouse, I think." I had always got turned on by that particular outfit.

"My God! Who are you? How do you know so much about me?" she cried.

"That isn't important now. All that matters is that you know your role and be ready for me. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Then look for me in an hour." I then signed off ICQ, ending the conversation.

I spent the next hour in some kind of weird time warp. In one way the time seemed to be crawling, due to my anticipation of what I was hoping was going to happen. On the other hand, it was passing much too quickly, because I was scared to death. I finally realized that I had gone this far and could not back out now. I steeled myself and decided that I had the upper hand and would have to maintain my composure. When I got there I could not let her intimidate me. I was in charge. I left my house and walked the few yards to the Lowe's front door and rang the bell. True to her word to be prompt, I heard Mrs. Lowe rushing through the house to the door. She was somewhat slower in opening it though. I watched her eyes widen in surprize at seeing me and then dart past me to survey the street and driveway.

"Dean! What do you want?" She spit the words at me. "I'm in the middle of something important, so I don't have time to see you." I knew she could not even fathom the idea that I might be her blackmailer.

I pushed past her into the foyer, slamming the door behind me. "Yes you do." I said. "You're going to have all the time for me that I want." I almost shouted.

"DEAN! What do you think you're..." I heard her voice trail off. Then I saw her face contort, morphing before my eyes. First anger, then confusion, then understanding, and then a smile of confidence.

"You?" she asked boldly.

"Yes, me!" I said in my boldest voice.

"Ok. Now it all makes sense. This stops right here young man! Who the hell do you think..."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled.

Her eyes widened at my volume.

"You are NOT in control here!" I exclaimed forcefully. "Nothing has changed. I am still the person that has the pictures of you fucking deacon Dave and the consequences will be the same as I told you over the computer if you don't follow my rules!"

"This is ridiculous." She said, but not as confidently as before.

"Not at all." I said. My voice calming. "Nothing funny about it at all. This is as serious as a heart attack. As sure as a heart attack can kill you, the pictures I have can kill your reputation in this town and the life you know. Got it?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" she whimpered as tears started to well in her eyes.

"Because I can and because you made it possible for me to do."

"But why, Dean" she repeated. "I've always been good to you."

" 'Good to me.' YEAH RIGHT!" I almost spit at her. "Good to me when you told me that I wasn't good enough for your daughter. Good to me everytime you raised your nose to me and my parents. Good to me everytime you teased me with your body when I was over here seeing Mike. I don't think you were that very good to me at all! But starting now, you are going to be REAL good to me!"

"Dean. That's not true. I never did any of those things." she denied. But I could tell that she knew that it was true.

"Don't even try. I'm not here for a debate. You know why I'm here, so quit stalling or I go back home, click a few buttons and your life as you know it is over!"

"Please don't do this!" she cried. "I never meant to do anything bad. I ended the affair with Dave months ago. Please Dean, I don't deserve this!"

"That's probably why he decided to post those pictures." I said. "To get back at you for breaking it off with him. I'll bet he just did it thinking it was safe, that no one would recognize either one of you or even ever find them, but he was wrong!"

"DAMN HIM!" she yelled. "This is all his fault. The sorry bastard knew I was lonely and came on to me while my husband was gone. I was so alone and he was there and I needed some attention from a man." She tried to explain. "Turns out the lousy bastard couldn't even satisfy me. He just made things worse. At first I didn't mind. The attention was great, but the sex was terrible. He couldn't last more than a few strokes. But after a while, I needed more and he couldn't give me more, so rather than just keep torturing myself, I just stopped seeing him. When he asked why, I told him. I told him that he was not man enough for me to continue seeing him."

So, I was beginning to understand. Her callus attitude had wounded his manly pride and to get back at her he had done something very stupid. In retaliation, he had posted his photos of her, probably not thinking that he could get busted too. I figured that he had regretted it later, but by then it was too late. I had them.

"Enough talking for now." I insisted as I walked into the Lowe's living room. The same room that I had spent many evenings in, watching Mrs. Lowe scamper about in her nightclothes, never knowing that I would one day have her in the position she now held.

I sat on the couch, spreading myself across it lazily, my arms back laying across the back. "I think it's time we got started." I said with my newfound confidence.

"You're really going to go through with this?" She questioned halfheartedly, knowing the answer.

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