The absolute shock of my predicament startled me into action.
Panic-stricken, and despite teetering on the edge of what surely would have been a massive orgasm, I turned the ignition back on and gunned my Honda. I wasn't really thinking clearly, I just knew I had to get away from those young men and their phones.
As my car lurched down the road, I unsteadily stuffed my oversized boobs back into my bra. I wasn't really able to button my shirt back up while driving, but at least I wasn't hanging out all over the place now.
I found my way onto a main road, and slowly started to calm down from my startled adrenaline rush, which allowed for a far greater clarity of thought. OK, that was not good.
I started to think through the potential consequences of what had happened. I wasn't sure exactly how long those boys (they couldn't have been much more than 20 years old) had been filming me, and what they'd been able to capture through my raised car window on their phones, but I knew I had been making a bit of noise and they would have had a good sight of my tits, nipples and one hand diving up under my skirt. I hated to admit it but the thought of it was quite arousing, and I wasn't coming down from the edge of my orgasm quite as quickly as I'd hoped. What if I'd let them enter my car and satisfy me with those big cocks I'd seen bulging in their shorts? Mmm...
No. Get a grip on yourself Suzanne, for fuck's sake. That's what I tried to tell myself, anyway.
As I drove along, trying to push those insidiously creeping sexual thoughts from my mind and let rationality come back to hold sway, I mentally tried to map out the next steps of what I needed to do.
Firstly, I needed to watch this DVD. I still hadn't seen it and to be honest was dreading watching myself work through acts of sexual depravity on screen. However I needed to know what I was dealing with so I could confront Paul, and hopefully work out a way to prevent him from whatever he was planning. I had no idea what that was, but I was fairly certain it would either involve distribution or blackmail - the thought of either filled me with dread.
Secondly, my next confrontation with Paul needed to be face to face. This would obviously be tricky, but it was clear that in a verbal discussion he held too much power over me. If I could look him in the eye and let him know I was serious to stop this, that would have to be my best chance of extricating myself from whatever mess he intended for me.
Thirdly, what to do about these young men and their phones, filming me through the window of my car? The further I drove, the less it worried me, and I actually started to feel a lot better, if no less horny. They didn't know me - I supposed they would circulate whatever footage they had captured amongst their buddies. Very entertaining, amateur MILF with big tits masturbates in her car! But it would die a natural death. There was enough porn out there on the net already and therefore it certainly wasn't unique or special enough to go viral, and it would hardly be high quality. And with no way to trace it back to me, I was pretty confident I'd be safe on that score.
I decided to cancel my next meeting and instead head home to gather my thoughts. My husband was out at work and my teenage daughters were both at school so I'd have the place to myself for a couple of hours.
It would also give me a chance to watch that dreaded DVD.
Before long I arrived home, to our very nice suburban home. It was a lot like many of the places I sold for a living, nicely manicured front yard, garage spots for two cars, four bedrooms, two living areas, a nice suburban home that told volumes about the comfortable upper middle-class life my family led.
Today however, I was wasting no time admiring my home on the way in. As I approached the front door, my mind started to race again in anticipation of seeing the DVD. I could feel my heart start to hammer away hard and fast as I let myself inside, practically sprinting up the stairs (as much as my heels and suit would allow) to my bedroom. Perched at the end of the bed on a tallboy was a large 40 inch TV, with its own DVD player. With trembling hands, I placed the disc into the player, and settled myself on the bed to watch, still fully clothed including my pumps.
And I watched my abject humiliation at the hands of a man I barely knew unfold before my eyes, in full colour and high definition sound.
I watched as a vain suburban housewife turned none too slowly into a foul-mouthed cock-gobbling slut, who begged to be used like a piece of meat.
I watched as the woman on the film drooled, slobbered, moaned and whimpered as she fucked herself with a dildo, desperate to bring herself to orgasm, which she'd been denied by the man off camera.
And that woman was me.
And the worst bit? I was almost as turned on watching it back as I'd been at the time the whole sorry episode unfolded. My shame and humiliation at seeing myself so degraded in this fashion was only matched by my incredibly intense state of arousal. Soon I realised that the moans I could hear weren't coming from the screen, but my own, as I brought myself to a loud and earth-shattering climax while fully clothed on the bed. Four fingers had disappeared up my soaking pussy, and I fucked myself into oblivion with my own hand.
As the contractions slowly subsided, I lay on my own bed, fully clothed, hand still engaged with my sex beneath my skirt, wondering what I'd become.
***
It's funny how a good night's sleep and the morning sunlight can bring a fresh perspective to one's mindset.
That was how I felt, anyway, when I awoke the next day with new resolve. I felt confident that I could still put an end to this. OK, yes the DVD was pretty bad, but as the subject of same I figured I still had some negotiating power, if I could just confront Paul.
After our morning meeting in the office, I had a couple of appointments for property inspections, but then a free afternoon. My plan was to turn up unannounced at "Hot Modelz" and try and catch Paul on the back foot with little time to prepare. From there I would give him some ultimatums around how he could and couldn't use the little show of me he'd filmed, or I would legally withdraw my consent. I figured I'd give a little to gain a lot. It actually felt nice to be back in control of my own destiny for a little while.
However before that I had some work to contend with. The first inspection was for a regular client who had been looking around for a while at suburban homes similar to mine. I dealt with that meeting in a routine fashion. I had already shown him a few properties and he was looking to add to his investment portfolio. The meeting went well and I had the feeling that soon he'd be making a decision, which would mean a nice commission for me. This day was going well indeed!
My next inspection was something more of a mystery. It had only been booked yesterday afternoon, and was for a gentleman named Brad. I knew little else except that he wanted me to show him a more high-end property we had recently listed. This place was very special indeed, and could be considered almost a mansion, with a sprawling yard, large pool, multiple bedrooms and massive living areas. A very special home to be sure, and I was looking forward to the meeting. It was priced to sell at close to $2mil, which would mean a significant payday for the lucky agent - me, if I could get it sold!
As I turned up to the property, which was currently vacant, I saw the car of what I presumed was my prospective buyer Brad. Hard not to notice it, it was an Audi R8 - bright red and making the sort of statement that cars like this are supposed to. It had heavily tinted windows but I could see that my buyer was inside, and looked like he may have had a friend with him. I was a little early, so I parked my own Honda, and walked up to the house to open the front door and let some air in. No doubt Brad would follow me in soon.
I entered, and started to busy myself opening blinds to allow the natural light show off the best features of the house, paying particular attention to the large, well-appointed kitchen - a well-known selling point of any house these days. It had a massive island bench and was adorned with all the latest German appliances. I was lost admiring it myself for a moment when I heard a soft knock at the front door.
