Author's Note: This is a work of fantasy. The situations and people described are fictional.
"This isn't fair," Morgan said, as she stood just inside my front door, her voice was whiny which served no purpose but to piss me off.
"Haven't you learned by now that life isn't fair?" I asked, shaking my head. "Now I gave you two choices. You're free to make either one. And whichever choice you make I will hold up my end of the bargain."
How Morgan landed inside my apartment is a long, somewhat sorted, tale. You already know about our evening in the storage room of the coffee shop with Jessica. I had, unbeknownst to Jessica and Morgan while it was happening, filmed the entire sequence of events. Including both girls orgasming loudly.
In the days that followed, Morgan came into the coffee shop multiple times a day, begging me for the SD card that contained said video. She would promise not to say anything about what happened to anyone. She just didn't want me in possession of the video evidence.
"I will give you the card, if you give me another go at that body of yours," I had told her while standing in the back corner of the coffee shop on the third day she had come in.
I have stated repeatedly that I bore easily. I will usually be with a woman once, maybe twice. But any want, any desire for them usually really fades after the first time. So it made sense to me that after the night in the storage room I no longer had any interest in Jessica. But Morgan remained on my mind. I wanted her again, almost as though I had never had her in the first place.
"I don't want to do that," Morgan said, her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders slumped in towards each other.
"Then I keep the card," I said, plainly.
Morgan, like Jessica didn't seem to understand that the picture evidence I had gave me a type of power over them that I was not just simply going to give up. Maybe if I were a nice guy I would have. But then again, if I were nice, there wouldn't have ever been anything to film.
"You have two choices," I told her after a minute of thinking it over. "Either you come to my apartment Saturday night at 7 and spend the night. If you do everything I say while you're there then I will give you the SD card. Or, your other choice is, to never see me again but know that I have video of you in oh so many compromising positions. But at the same time know that if you don't give me a reason to, I won't share said video."
"I don't like you having it," Morgan had said.
"Then should I give you my address?"
Morgan thought about it for a moment and initially had said that she would take her chances. But not an hour after my shift started the next day came back in to get my address. It was evident, though, as soon as she entered my apartment she had been hoping I would have had a change of heart. And when it was clear that, that wasn't going to happen she seemed to think resorting to whining would help her get her way.
"But my choices aren't fair!" Morgan protested, seeming more and more like a child and less like the 18 year old young adult that she was.
"That brings me back to my question," I said trying to remain calm in the face of such annoyance. "Don't you know life isn't fair?"
"Please just give me the card!" Morgan tried making a demand, but her voice had such a spoiled, whiny tone that it came out more like a small tantrum.
"Hmm," I said, as I stepped closer to her, causing her to back up so her back was actually against my front door. "You keep talking to me like that, I may take away both of your choices," I said, as I reached my right hand out and placed it menacingly on her left cheek.
"What does that mean?" Morgan asked, her voice beginning to shake.
"It means, that I can't stand temper tantrums from people too old to be throwing them," I said. "So you're starting to piss me off. And when I get pissed off I tend to just take what I want. And if I do that now, the choices I gave you at first are gone."
"But.." Morgan started to whine again.
"That's it," I said, angrily interrupting her as my hand moved from her cheek to her mouth, pressing her head back against the door. "You only have one choice now. We're having that sleepover!"
Morgan's eyes went wide the moment she felt my hand on her mouth. I was expecting her to try to get away, but she didn't. Not even when my left arm went around her waste and roughly pulled her into my body.
"I'll give you one last chance," I said, as I held Morgan's body to mine. "We can do this easy, like last week in the storage room. You follow my instructions, and who knows maybe I'll even make sure you cum. Or you fight me, and well, I'll just take what I want. Which is it?" I asked, as I removed my hand from Morgan's mouth.
"If I do what you say and don't fight, will you give me the tape of last week?" she asked, her voice still whiny but not as bad as before.
"I think you already lost your chance at that," I said, anger evident in my voice as I started walking towards my old beaten up grey couch.
"Why would I..." Morgan started but was stopped by my right hand covering her mouth again as I stopped in front of the couch.
"I know that you liked what happened in that storage room," I interrupted. "That pussy of yours was dripping, almost the entire time. Even when you were nose deep in your friends cunt. That's why you don't want the video getting out. You don't want people knowing what a dirty slut you really are!"
"Hmmmm," Morgan tried, unsuccessfully to talk into my hand.
"I know you want it again," I said as I pulled her body even tighter into mine, making sure she could feel the bulge my thickening cock was creating in my pants push against her stomach. "You want to be used, holes filled, bouncing up and down on a virtual strangers cock. Admit it, Morgan, you liked that night in the storage room," I dared her as I removed my hand from her mouth, just enough to let her speak.
"I didn't," she said.
"Lie to me all you want," I said, as I pushed her just hard enough to make her fall backwards onto the couch. "It's only going to get you fucked harder. But I think that's what you want," I said as I took off my shirt.
"Please," Morgan said, as she started to cry. "I just want the video from the coffee shop so none of my family sees it. Please!"