Spunky Blackmail Ch. 04


I needed a date.

My company was having a big end of the year bash at a downtown hotel and they were providing the rooms, the food, everything. All we needed to do was show up and have fun. There was business involved as well, some late afternoon seminars to attend, but the important thing, the major thing, was that I needed a date. Because afterwards, there would be dancing and drink, and afterwards, I’d have a whole hotel room to myself.

Nice guy that I am, I thought of calling Tara first. But nice as I am, I’m also an asshole. It didn’t take me long to remember.

The breakup was bad. The hicky Tara found on my neck began a series of questions that led to a series of shouts that led to me leaving the house before the entire family was involved. Of course that didn’t stop it. There were angry phone calls, from both Tara and Courtney – Tara about Courtney and then Courtney screaming for her money or to get her sister off her back.

Her father even called to tell me he’d kill me if he ever saw me again. I never asked him where Courtney learned her knifework, or whether he knew why his little girl was so pissed at me. Honestly, I wanted to leave it all behind me.

That wasn’t easy to do when my ex-girlfriend and I shared an apartment. I had a head start on her from the funeral, but it wasn’t enough to get all my shit packed up and out the door. When she came home she immediately set to tearing the place apart. She threw my toolbox out the window, and it came very close to shattering and spilling out all the money that was hidden inside it.

I had to find someone to sub-lease my half of the apartment, which was a nightmare in this economy. I had Tara’s friends calling me, leaving text messages, telling me what a monster I was. Yes, me, a monster. Well…

Comes the end of the year and I need a date for this shindig. I hadn’t even thought about it, was planning to just feel sorry for myself, drink the booze and try not to slit my wrists alone in the hotel room. But a chance encounter in a coffee shop changed my mind.

* * *

I had been sitting in the corner of the cafe with my laptop for about six minutes. I’d been in there for an hour already, catching up on work, trying to get everything in my docket finished before the company party, when I noticed a girl come in through the door with a group of friends.

Her friends were fine, blonde, brunette, but she had a long trail of raven black hair, so black it must have been dyed, and a deep, fake tan, so tan the girl was practically brown. She had a hard-edged face, an upturned nose and a strong mouth. Great tits. Hellenic ass. The unapologetic cleavage in her low-cut top clued me in to her breasts; the mini-skirt tipped me off to the ass. It was Courtney, in town. For six minutes I didn’t know what to do. On the seventh minute, I shut my laptop, and had a plan.

If she’d left with the girls I’d have to follow her, but that wasn’t the way it worked out. She excused herself from the group after they’d been there for thirty minutes to use the restroom, and when she did, I followed her in.

She was closing the door behind her when I slid my foot between the door and the jamb. She started fuming even before she saw me. “Hey, asshole-” She stopped.

We regarded each other with quiet, calculating grimaces, and then, as if on cue, she opened the door and we entered the unisex restroom together.

“What the fuck do you want?” she said.

“To give you your money.”

She snorted. A puff of air escaped her lips and tossed one of her bangs back over her ear. The action was adorable. “Right,” she said. “What do you want me to do, fuck you while doing a handstand in this shitty bathroom?”

“No, but good guess,” I said.

She crossed her arms and gave me a nasty smirk. “My family thinks you’re just the sleaziest shit right now. It’s awesome.”

“What about you?”

She shrugged. “Like I give a shit. Grandma’s dead and no one’s thinking about the money right now. Tara won’t stop giving me shit about you but whatever.”

“So I guess you don’t need the money anymore.”

She bugged her eyes as if receiving some sort of religious revelation. “Oh, wow, you mean you’re really going to give it to me? Fuck you, no. I’m not stupid.”

“No,” I said agreeably. “No, Courtney, you’re a sharp one. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Look,” she said, “you’re not my sis’s bf anymore and I don’t care what you do with the money. So, uh, I think we’re done here. Right?”

I nodded. “We can be, if you want. But I have a proposition for you.”

“Fuck that. Whatever it is, fuck that, fuck you, fuck no.”

I threw up my hands. “Come on, Courtney. Didn’t we have some laughs?”

She sneered. “Yeah, R-i-i-ight. All those times you fucked me when my sister wasn’t around? Yeah, those were great times.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you.”

“I literally complained the entire time. Or did you not hear me calling you a fucking bastard while you were cumming in my ass?”

“Good times,” I said.

She rolled kırklareli escort her eyes. “Will you please leave? Or do you want to watch me piss now?”

“No,” I said, “my perversion does not extend that far. However, I do have a proposition for you and I ask only that you hear me out before any further profanity.”

“Fuck you.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m willing to give you your money back.”


“If you come to this company party with me. You’d come as my date. You’d be there with me.”

“And that’s it?”

“No, that’s not it.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I thought so. You really get off on getting off on me, don’t you?”

“I do, Courtney,” I said. “I really do.”

She made a grand show of searching the ceiling with her eyes. “My sister fucking hates you right now.”

“I understand that.”

“So, what, I have to wear a nice dress, pretend you’re charming? What?”

“You’d only be there for the drinking, food and dancing. The boring business stuff is earlier in the day.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “And I should believe you because…?”

“I’ll bring the money with me. I’ll show it to you as soon as you get into the hotel lobby. If I don’t have it you can walk out and leave. If you stay, I’ll give it to you.”





She laughed. “You think you’re so smart,” she said.

“Actually I thought I sounded desperate.”

“You do,” she said. “You are. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you get some other girl to come with you? Oh, that’s right. Cause you’re an asshole.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’d rather go with you.”

“I bet you would.”

“Bet me two thousand dollars?”

She leveled her gaze at me. “When is it?”

“End of next week. I can send you the directions.”

She took a deep breath, and without another thought, just nodded. “Fine. Sure. Whatever. If I show up and you don’t have the money, I will fucking stab you in the lobby, I don’t care who sees it.”

“I believe you,” I said. I believed her.

“Now leave, I have to piss.”

“Can I watch?”

I left without much protest, the look on her dark face more than worth it. As I packed up my stuff in the cafe corner I was relieved, and surprised, that she’d said yes. Of course that didn’t mean she would show up, but the tantalizing possibility was there.

* * *

The weeks stretched by like they were laden with lead weights. On the day of the party I tossed grandma’s money in my duffel bag, along with my nice slacks and a pack of condoms.

The seminars were excruciating. The small talk was boring. But at about 7 PM, when the company members were coming downstairs in their finery, my boss was already drunk, and I was waiting in the lobby, the night, quickly, and briefly, was all worth it.

Courtney arrived. She had a small bag with her, enough for a night’s stay, and it was taken by the bellboy without much fuss. She knew what number the room was. And she strode towards me on the wide red-carpeted floor.

She was in nothing but a straight black dress, and I mean nothing else. She did have a pair of black heels that went all the way up, but there was not a bra strap in sight over her bare, brown shoulder. Her breasts were squeezed into the outfit, that shimmered and bent the light, and the hem went to just about thigh-level. Just about. When she walked the fabric slithered over her ass. And the eyes of the hotel did likewise.

I opened my mouth to tell her what she already knew but she cut me off. “Money,” she said. Her eyes were rimmed with dark mascara, her cheeks blushed.

The money appeared in my hand and swiftly returned to my pocket.

“How do I know it’s all there?”

“It’s all there,” I said.

“You fucking lie.”

“It’s all there,” I said. “Do you want to tell the bellboy to bring your bag back?”

“If it’s not…” she growled.

“You’ll cut me,” I said. “Fair is fair, I know. Now, look,” I said, I looped my arm through hers, “you’re here as my date. So you have to make believe you’re having a great time.”

“My imagination isn’t strong enough.”

But it was decent enough. I introduced her to my co-workers as Courtney, which she was, my girlfriend, which she definitely was not. They all wanted to know what she did and where she came from and she smiled and nodded whenever possible, laughing when she absolutely had to, and only tensed and flinched when I slid my hand down her backside. After thirty minutes of small talk while we waited for the bar and dance room to clear, she bent her mouth to my ear. “Where the fuck is the free booze you promised me?”

“Inside,” I said.

“Your co-workers are boring.”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, we are.”

What followed would only be more of the same. My boss came over to ask me who I was with, and I happily told him she was in love with me, a woman who believed in all the great qualities I possessed, who supported me, was faithful to me, who was not necessarily prettier than her afyon escort sister, but much hotter, and fucked like a wild pony. My boss smiled and nodded, drunk off his ass, and kissed her hand. He had to find it first and Courtney sneered at his wife as she gave us both a dirty look and carted him off. “Booze,” said Courtney. “He drank it all, didn’t he?”

We did eventually find the dance floor and Courtney did get her drink. But she did not overindulge. She matched me drink for drink, but only so that she could make the chatter of my officemates seem acceptable. When everyone got up to dance, I elected to stay in my seat, but Courtney pounded her shot and finished mine too. She grabbed me and pulled me up after them.

I don’t really dance very well. I know the bump and grind fair enough, and it seemed that was all Courtney was familiar with. The lights and the bodies mingled, the air going hot from the closeness of the bodies, the quickness of the gyrations. I pulled Courtney up against my lap and we molded against each other, moving and slithering. It was when her posterior bumped my crotch that I first inferred that there was nothing underneath. That she wasn’t wearing a bra was obvious. It was obvious to all the men on the floor with me, and their women, and the DJ and the bartender. She shook and jiggled in her tight little number, and she owned each curve and how it moved. And we sweat. We sweat against each other, until our sweat mingled and our hair came down into our eyes.

And then we were back at the table, everyone loosened up and drinking freely, and Courtney was giggling with Ben and Alicia about how smart I thought I was, and I was just laid back enough to let them have at it. Ben and Alicia had been cubicle mates for a long time, and after the way they were dancing, after the way they were sharing each other’s drinks, I thought the cubicle was about to get an upgrade.

* * *

The four of us broke away from the group as the night wound down, and we all helped each other find the way to the elevator and up to our floor. They said goodnight and tried to look casual as they strolled off to Ben’s room. As soon as they had their backs to us I pressed Courtney up against my hotel door and kissed her.

She kept her eyes wide, watching Ben and Alicia down the hall. I could feel her body tense, waiting for them to disappear into the room. And I kept my eyes open too, to drink in the sight of her angry eyes, feel her charged muscles, while I slid my tongue deeper into her mouth.

My hand gently pushed her to the door, while my other found her backside. I fondled one curvaceous ass cheek, almost reaching the hem of her skirt. She reached behind herself and pulled me away, but she didn’t break the kiss.

Her mouth was wet, her lips puffy, by the time Ben and Alicia fell, laughing, into their room.

Courtney pushed me off. “Fuck,” she said. She wiped her berry colored lip with the back of her hand. “You bit me.”

“Thought it would help your concentration.”

She gave me a withering look. “Just let me in so I can get my bag and get out of here.”

I smiled in the most diabolical way that I could. Mostly for her displeasure, but the motivation behind it was very real. “You’re not leaving tonight.”

Her brows knit together. “Fuck you,” she said. “I did what you said, showed up to this stupid thing, now pay up.”

“Nope,” I said. “I told you I needed you here for the event. Tomorrow morning is when we leave. How’s it going to look if I show up tomorrow and my date’s high tailed it out of there? They’ll think you were some kind of escort.”

Courtney looked furious. Her dark eyebrows came down over those blazing eyes. I had to wonder if she genuinely hadn’t known, or if my company disgusted her that much. Down below, in my pants, I hoped it was both.

“I’m not-” she started.

“You know what you’re here for,” I said. “Don’t waste my time.”

“Don’t waste your time?” she fumed. “I’m fucking gone.”

“Really?” I said. “You put up with everything tonight to go home empty handed?”

“I’m not spending another second here,” she hissed. “Especially not to-“

I put my hand on the door, barring her way. “I have $500 in my pocket. The rest is inside,” I said. “You want it, you can look for it.”

She shook her head.

“You can always just tell me no.”

The skin on her nose wrinkled, her whole face joining in to grimace. “No,” she said. “No I won’t do anything your sick brain wants.”

“It’s not my brain,” I put in. I leaned in closer. Our bodies brushed together against the door. “Do you want the money or not?”

“It’s mine,” she said.

“So you’re welcome to take it. Inside.”

Her eyes studied mine, the wicked gears inside calculating, maybe ways to subdue me, maybe how to kill me. I could see, though, that tonight had been no joy for her and to walk out now would only compound her fury. “Fine,” she said. “Open it.”

“Not until you know what you’re going in there for,” I said.

“To amasya escort get the money.”

“To honor our deal.”

“You said I had to pretend to be your girlfriend for the night,” she said quickly, spitting the words out without thinking.

“Oh yeah,” I said.

Before she could protest I’d swiped the key into the card lock and we pushed inside. Courtney’s bag was set primly beside the bed. My suit and bag were on top of it.

Courtney stalked to the bed, to my bag, and I was treated to the sight of those long legs flashing in the striped light of the blinds, the lamp inside and the hall’s diminishing radiance. The door swung shut, and Courtney was at the bed, my bag unzipped, rifling through it.

I let her search, closing the door (should I lock it? I wondered, or would that be too Hitchcockian?) and casually strolling into the room. It was a good room the company had provided. There was a bathroom on my left, a small kitchenette behind it and running from the door to the wall. On my right was the sliding closet, with both doors full length mirrors. The bed was on the far right side of the room and the bathroom was across from it, beside the TV.

Courtney’s face only grew darker as she flung my shit further across the room, to no success. A gray undershirt hung from the TV, and one of my socks had even caught in the half-lidded Venetian windows. I savored the movements of her, her bare arms scouring the bag, the fine muscles beneath the skin twitching with unconcealed tension. This was the first time, I thought, the first time my proper girlfriend wasn’t sleeping around the corner or waiting for me to return, the first time her family wasn’t around to threaten me with. We were two people in a hotel room; for all intents and purposes, as far as my colleagues knew, she was happy to be here, doing the things that couples did. In hotel rooms. Late at night.

My body stirred, even as I stood motionless in the center of the room. My manhood stiffened. She had stopped going through the bag. She’d turned it upside down, finished with it in a petulant fury, its flattened fabric deflated, just like her hopes to finish this without another word to me. But if her hope was deflated it did not stop her anger. It radiated out of her, making every glistening surface of her shine that much brighter. We were both lightly sweaty from the dancefloor downstairs. Some of it had evaporated in the intervening hours. I could smell myself, sort of, but I couldn’t ignore her. Her perfume and shampoo were still lingering in her hair but her sweat, a pure, natural aroma, filled the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn up under her skirt, one leg heading down (way down), to her black heel in the carpet. Her hemline, which had started low, was drawn up and stuck under her bottom, so half her ass was visible on the bed. Her breasts pushed at the fabric of her top, the deep shadow of her cleavage lined with sweat. Her dark hair trailed over her shoulders, almost reaching the tops of her breasts.

“It’s not in there,” I said simply.

She was up, she was moving. She was in front of me, breathing in my face. She didn’t shake with all that energy; she kept it bottled and bound inside. I imagined it swirling behind her eyes.

“Give it to me,” she said.

“I will.”

My eyes fell over her full lips; the bright eyes that lacked the inquisitive earthiness of her sister but were filled with something more obvious, sinister, and lancing.

“Where is it?” she said. Her lips came together, puckered. “Give it to me,” she said darkly.

“Take off your shoes.”

I did not expect the slap. It came so quickly, one minute I was leering at her, the next I was staring at the floor. I shook myself, and cocked my head back. Courtney still looked mad, but satisfied.

“Fair enough,” I said. “You can do that again, if you want.”

“You-” she started.

“Take them off.”

She remained planted to the ground, a buxom statue, a sweaty, organic embodiment of all my sexual demons. I wanted to peel off her clothes and taste every wet crevice she hid underneath them. My cock only hardened to think I had the time to do it. Provided she didn’t castrate me in the attempt. What tickled me, though, insofar as I could be tickled, was the glimpses of superiority that I caught from her time and again. She knew I wanted to fuck her; there could be no mistaking that; but did she recognize how hard I wanted to fuck her, how strenuously I needed to sink myself inside her, how badly I wanted to hold her, and squeeze her, and hear her curse me and groan? She thought I wanted her tits and ass. That was true enough. But did she know I wanted her, inside her body, her ignorant, evil little heart? I didn’t want to love her or be loved by her. I wanted the satisfaction of her loathing, and her cum.

I reached into my pocket. The hundreds appeared, slightly damp from the sweat of my body, but neatly folded in a metal clip. Courtney’s eyes registered the cash, but her mouth betrayed her. It was surprise that I saw. I smiled and tucked the cash away again.

“You said that was just five hundred.”

“No, that’s all of it. I just didn’t know how else to get you inside. And believe me, when I lose my clothes, you’re free to take it all. I’ll keep my word about that at least,” I said. “And you’ll get it. But the night’s not over.”

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