1. Blackmailed


    Date: 9/3/2015, Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Author: klammer, Rating: 66, Source: xHamster

    Blackmailed I was feeling a little melancholy. I had been pretty busy since moving from my small town in down state Indiana to the north suburbs of Chicago. I hadn’t had a lot of time to get lonely but tonight was different, it was my 31rst. birthday and I had no one to celebrate with. Everyone I knew, including my ex-wife of 3 years, was back in Indiana. I decided to drown my sorrows in a couple of cold beers and left for a little dive I’ve seen a few miles from my house. I had been there about an hour and had decided to finish by 2nd. beer and go home when a beautiful, sophisticated woman sat next to me at the bar. “You look a little down,” she said, “drinking your cares away?” She wasn’t what you would call gorgeous but she was elegant looking. She had a small frame, in fact, her body didn’t really fit her face. I guess her to be about 22 or 23 years old. “No, not really,” I said, “I actually moved here about a year ago but I’ve been busy and haven’t had time to make many friends. Today’s my birthday and I just don’t have anyone to celebrate it with.” “Well buy me a drink and I’ll toast to your birthday.” “Bartender, would you give the lady what ever she wants, please.” “Make it glass of white wine, please.” She looked at me and smiled. “Thank you.” The bartender brought a glass of white wine and set it in front of her. “I’m sorry ma’am, before I can give this to you I need to see an ID.” She smiled. “Well thank you,” she said, still smiling, “I don’t usually get carded ...
    any more, I was getting worried.” She pulled her wallet from her purse and showed her ID to the bartender. He nodded his head in approval and walked to the other end of the bar. She picked up the glass of wine and held it up in a mock toast in my direction. “To reaching 31 and still keeping out of jail,” she said with a smile. I thought it was cute. I had no idea that toast would be very significant in any week. “So, what do you do for living,” she said as she lifted the glass to her lips. “I’m an artist.” “Wow, a starving artist.” That was really not the case, I made good money and I wasn’t going to let this elegant woman think she made more money than me. “Well, I’m not exactly starving,” I said, I teach art at the university. “Ah, a wannabe artist.” I knew she was referring to the old adage, “those who can do, those who can’t teach”. That’s insulting to any teacher. “No,” I said rather indignant, “I made a living with my art long before teaching. Actually the teaching part is why I moved here. The university made me such a lucrative offer I couldn’t pass it up. I still paint thought. I’ve been working in watercolors for many years. All year long, while teaching during the day, I paint at night. By the end of the school year I have so much work framed up and ready to sell, I spend my summer going to the various art shows around the country. I did pretty good this last summer, I cleared over $100 grand.” She seemed to sit up a little straighter after I told her that. “I also ...
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