Blackmailed By My Dad’s Boss Read online S.E. Law (Blackmail Fantasies #2)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blackmail Fantasies Series by S.E. Law
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
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I’ve kept my flower choices under the table because I want to reveal them one by one while explaining their significance and why they were chosen. The lilacs are next, and I pull them from under the table, explaining my choice while expertly arranging them. The white camellias come third, and then I move on to the red chrysanthemums.

“Fiery passion.”

Holding one of the flowers by the stem, I twirl it back and forth. I haven’t felt fiery passion in a long while. My last boyfriend was over two years ago, and I’m not going to lie – I’m a little sex-starved.

Bending slightly forward, I rest my elbows on the table and hold the flower right in front of my face. It’s such a beautiful red. I can see how people who saw this flower had wanton thoughts come to their mind. The delicate petals start off closed but open up until they are fully presenting themselves at the edges. The red becomes more defined on the edges as well. It’s a truly pretty plant.

The hot lights are making me feel warm. I run my hand down my neck, letting the tips of my fingers rest on the base of the bulb for a few seconds. All of this ambience gets me to thinking about how I wouldn’t totally mind stripping in front of the camera. Maybe it’s a crazy thought, but I’m feeling kind of frisky, and it’s not like anyone is going to see except for me.

I can’t even begin to figure out what has gotten into me. I’ve always been a good girl. Kept to myself, and never got into any trouble. I’ve never been one for dates and partying. In fact, the boyfriend from two years ago is the only guy I’ve ever dated, and we were together for years. The sex was good, but it was also pretty tame. I’ve never done anything crazy or unexpected. I’m really just a bookworm who everyone thinks is a big old square. Probably because I keep my life pretty square. The sauciest action I see comes from the romance novels I have on my bookshelf.

“Well, maybe a little change isn’t so bad,” I whisper to myself as I put the chrysanthemum back down on the table. But I’m going to need a little bit of space on the table if this is really about to happen, so I carefully slide everything I arranged on the table to the side. That should give me enough room to sit on the table.

I turn back to the camera, my full body now in view. Maybe what I’m about to do is ridiculous, but it seems like it will be fun. I’ve never done anything like this before, and this may be the only time I have the privacy I need, as well as such good equipment.

I push the straps of my dress off my shoulders and let them hang down. Then I pull my arms through and catch my dress, holding the front of it to my breasts before letting it fall to the floor. The fabric pools at my feet. I step out from the deformed circle it’s made and kick it to the side. I’m not sure how far away it flies, but I can get it later.

I’m in my bra and panties now. I do a little twirl for the camera, making sure it catches me from all angles. Dear God, this is so naughty! I’ve never done anything remotely like this before. I really am the most vanilla person on the planet.

But this strip tease for the camera is giving me a perverse sort of thrill, and I don’t want to stop.

I undo my bra next, letting it slide down my arms before throwing it in the same direction as my dress. My panties are the last clothing item to go. My back faces the camera as I bend over, pulling the white cotton down my legs and dropping it on the floor.

Turning back around, my eyes glance around the table for sexual inspiration. Fortunately for me, I brought a glass vase with a long, narrow opening that’s about two inches in diameter. It’s perfect.

“I’m really about to do this,” I mumble to myself. “This is happening, Tammy.”

Taking a final deep breath, I climb onto the table. Deciding I should probably lubricate the glass a little bit, just to make this whole process easier, I spit on the thin opening and spread the lubricant around the rim.

I hang one leg over the side and bend the other one so that the bottom of my foot is planted squarely on the table's surface. Not wanting to waste any more time, I place the top of the vase at my opening and push it inside of me. I grunt a little bit as my walls part. The smooth glass glides against my insides as it goes as deep as possible. My head falls back as my walls clench around the long cylinder.


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