Bad Mistake. Part 2

Yesterday, I was looking forward to tonight. But now that this happened, I was dreading it. I didn’t know how things were going to go with Mr. Williams. How could I ever even pretend like nothing had happened? Like I didn’t send my most intimate pictures to my crush’s father? Like I didn’t get wet when he texted me back and told me that I was sexy?

I grabbed my macroeconomics textbook from my backpack and opened it up to the chapters that I needed to study for my college exam next Monday while trying to stop thinking about tonight. Because if I did, I would get nothing done.

My phone, which I had intentionally placed facedown on the bed, buzzed. I gazed over at it, heart racing. One minute passed, then two, then I couldn’t control the urge to flip it over and see Mr. Williams’s name on the screen.

Mr. Williams: I look forward to seeing you tonight, Mila.

I stared at the text with wide eyes and fanned myself. My God. What did I say to that?

After deciding to ignore the text, I turned the page in my textbook and started studying. But I kept glancing over at my phone, sitting, waiting for him to send me another text.

The screen lit up with a longer message.

Mr. Williams: Are you ignoring me? I could just tell your father about those pictures if you want.

As soon as I saw his message, I picked up the phone.

Me: No! No, not ignoring you. Please don’t tell my dad.

Mr. Williams: It’s going to be quite difficult to keep something like this from him, but another picture might make it a bit easier.

I pursed my lips together, core tightening. He wanted another dirty picture of me? I … I couldn’t. I placed my phone down and took a deep breath. I should call Ada; she would know what to do. I picked up my phone, ready to dial her number, but another text from him popped up.

Mr. Williams: I’m sitting next to your dad in a meeting right now. ;)

Fuck.

Me: Okay, okay. Just give me a second.

I scrolled through my phone, looking through all of the naked pictures of myself and trying to find one without my face in it because if this man was going to blackmail me, at least these pictures wouldn’t have my face in them.

When I finally selected one, I sat on my bed, finger hovering over the blue Send button. My knees bounced up and down. I squeezed my eyes closed and sent it.

Mr. Williams: I want one with you naked and on your knees, looking into the camera.

I shut my eyes tightly. Why was this happening? How could this be happening? I sent my dirty pictures to Dad’s partner and ended up in this situation.

But I really, really didn’t want Dad to see or even know about the pictures. Last time he caught me sexting, he threatened to take away my college fund.

“A lady doesn’t act that way,” he had said.

So, I took my clothes off, knelt on the floor, and looked into the camera. My nipples were hard. My stomach was sucked in. My lips were pursed. I needed the picture to be perfect because I really, really didn’t want to retake it for him.

After I sent the stupid picture, I lay on my bed. My pussy throbbed at the thought of him in his meeting, dick hard against his pants. Him trying to hide his hard-on in front of Dad. I pushed my hand in my pants, teasing my clit.

God, everything about it was so fucking hot.

A few hours passed, and he didn’t text me back. I hoped that was enough to keep him over and to keep his mouth shut.

At seven p.m., Dad yelled upstairs to me, “Mila, the Williams are here.”

I grabbed my phone and smoothed out my conservative navy-blue dress. Making sure all of the goodies were covered up. I didn’t want Mr. Williams to get the wrong idea, especially with my family at the dinner table.

When I walked down the stairs, my heart was pounding against my chest. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table, waiting for me. As soon as I stepped into the room, Mr. Williams’s blue eyes pierced through mine. His cream sweater hugged his body.

Bad-boy Everett was giving me that look he always did. Deep. Dark. Dangerous. Yet all I could think about was how I took a picture of myself, sitting on my knees, breasts on full display, and eyes wide, looking like I was waiting for his father’s cock.

My cheeks flushed, and I sat down next to him at the table. Only wishing that this dinner would go as smoothly as every other one had. But of course, things never went as planned.

Halfway through dinner, my phone buzzed in my lap.

Mr. Williams: Put your vibrator inside of you.

I stared, wide-eyed, at the phone and gazed up at Mr. Williams to see him in conversation with my dad.

Me: I don’t have a vibrator.

After I replied, I went back to talking to Everett.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Mr. Williams look down at his phone and glance at me.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“Steve,” he said, looking at my dad, “did you know that your daughter has excellent photography skills?”

My eyes widened as I glared at him, shock running through my veins. He smirked.

Dad smiled. “No, I didn’t. You’re interested in photography, sweetie?”

Oh, fuck me. I forced a smile on my face. “Yes.”

“Why haven’t we seen any of your work?” he asked.

I clenched my jaw, anger boiling inside of me. Why did he have to do this now? “I like keeping it to myself,” I stated, hoping he would drop the subject.

“I have some of her pictures, if you would like to see them,” Mr. Williams started.