Part Six: Curtains. When the blackmailing hunk over the road goes too far, is it all over for our flirty foursome?
Suburban couple Max and Lyla have been having a filthy four-way with their naughty neighbours, Blake and Claire. But now Claire has started seeing 18-year-old gardener Dan, who’s secretly blackmailing Blake about his group shenanigans. And Lyla, in trying to warn Max about Dan’s devious plan, has been dragged into a new kind of sex game…
Lyla assessed her mostly hopeless situation. She was tied very firmly to a tree, her mouth stoppered with a large wad of cloth. She had no chance of communicating to Max what a bad idea this was. Next to her on a second tree, Dan – the man she knew to be Blake’s blackmailer – was equally firmly tied. Right now, the villain was caught. But he would only stay caught if Lyla could make Max understand how important it was not to let him go.
Meanwhile Max, the puppet master of this little game, was kneeling on the grass in front of both of them, grinning happily.
“So,” he recapped, “whoever comes first loses. The winner gets a good fuck, the loser gets to stay tied and watch.”
Lyla’s brain was racing. Her only hope was to win the game. Then Max would untie her and she could tell him what she knew about Dan. A simple plan. A simple plan which got a lot more complicated as Max’s rough and soft and firm fingertip grazed the wet-velvet outer lips of her vulva.
All Lyla could do was hold on. Her fingers twisted in the ropes that held her erect against the tree. But she tried not to think about that. Not ropes. Not anything being erect. Needlework. Sewing a straight seam on a sewing machine. As Max did things to her clit that electrified her limbs (he knew her so well) she thought about making a dress. A remake of her yellow shift. The dress Blake loved so much, that he would push up over her head before pushing her down onto the bed…
Lyla squirmed and heard Max chuckle. God. No. This was important. Couldn’t her body understand that? She opened her tight-squeezed eyes. Max, beautiful Max, was kneeling on the ground. He was topless, lit like a model in the moonlight. It was properly dark now but still warm in the garden. Lyla chanced a look over at Dan, roped to a tree, his erect cock hot and hard in Max’s other hand, which glided on an endless stream of needy pre-come.
God, but that was hot. Lyla squirmed again. This was so hard. Hard like Dan. Hard like Max too, now she came to think of it.
Max’s fingers flickered again over her clit in a dance that made Lyla almost unable to think of anything else. Almost unable to care about trapping Dan and making him pay for what he had done to Blake. She was panting hard. Her nipples were erect and she dug her fingernails into the tree bark. This was so unfair. Max knew exactly how to make her dissolve into nothing but need. She bit her lip and fought her growing urge to come for a few seconds more. But she couldn’t keep doing it. Sparks were lighting around the tops of her thighs. Her body went limp and her world contracted to nothing but the point of pleasure where her clit met Max’s fingertip. She bit down on the gag. But just before she could come, in the split moment before her moment, Max took his finger away.
Lyla cried out, frustrated, her legs shaking. Then she saw it. Dan was thrashing against his tree, coming hard all over Max’s big forearm. She had won.
Max sneered at Dan as he took his hand away from the still jerking cock. He turned to look at Lyla.
“Well done,” he said, slightly sarcastically, reaching behind her he pulled away the ropes that held her to the tree. Once her arms were free she reached up to remove the gag, but Max stopped her. “No, no,” he said softly, “keep that on for now.”
Lyla was so turned on she had almost forgotten why she desperately needed to take the gag off in the first place. And then Max had her on the ground and was shoving himself roughly into her, whispering, “Of course I wanted you to win, baby.” And even though her hands were free she didn’t try to take the gag off or say anything.
Max fucked her wonderfully well. His cock was big and satisfying, hitting every pleasure point inside her. She came hard, her face in the dark grass, and felt him pulse inside her as she panted her recovery.
When she was finally fully conscious, when she rolled over and pulled the gag out of her mouth, she said, “Max, I need to tell you…” But her voice drained away. She was looking right at the tree Dan had been tied to. But he wasn’t there. Just the coils of rope that had held him lay on the ground.
Max laughed. “The dirty little fucker. Looks like he could get himself free all along.”
“Max,” Lyla said, shushing his laugh, “I need to tell you something about Dan.”
Too Little Too Late
As they drove home in Max’s van, Lyla filled Max in on all the details of Dan’s little blackmail scheme. Max said, “But are you sure it was him?”
“Sure I’m sure. The white van.”
“There are a lot of white vans.”
“The photos taken from our garden.”
Max sucked his teeth and didn’t reply.
“OK then,’ said Lyla, “why did he do a runner just now? Why didn’t he stick around and join in the fun?”
Again Max didn’t reply, and by this time they were already pulling up outside their house – two thirties semis that Max had knocked through upstairs to create one plus-sized bedroom. Lyla jumped out of the passenger side and ran into Blake and Claire’s side of the house. No one appeared to be home.
“Blake!” she called, dashing up the stairs. There was someone in the bathroom. Lyla waited as the toilet flushed and then the door opened. But out of the door came Claire. “God,” said Lyla. “Sorry. Hi Claire. What are you doing here? And where’s Blake?”
Claire cocked her head and pouted a little. This surprised Lyla until she realised that Max had come up the stairs behind her. “I might ask you the same questions,” Claire said. “This is my house.”
“Claire,’ said Lyla, “please. It’s important. We need to find him and sort this mess out.”
“And by ‘mess’ you mean the blackmail?”
Lyla frowned. “How do you know about that?”
“Well, honestly, I knew something was going on when the first chunk of money went missing. I am a bookkeeper. I was hoping he’d booked us a fancy holiday or something. But then…” And it was only then that Lyla noticed that Claire had clearly been crying. “I got this funny sounding call from him and I came straight back and found this note.”
Lyla’s heart was pounding as she took the note, expecting the worst. Max was at her shoulder reading too.
Claire, I have to go away. I’m being blackmailed about our lifestyle and I can’t go on. He’s called and told me he wants more money tonight. I had another 5K ready for him. I’m going to give him that on the understanding he leaves you, Max and Lyla alone. And then I’m going to do one. I have to. I’m sorry.
“Oh God,” said Lyla.
“OK,” said Max gruffly behind her. “We need to find him.”
“How can we?” said Claire. “We have no idea where he’s meeting this guy.”
“Well there is one thing,” Lyla said slowly. “He did tell me where he met Dan the first time. We could try there.”
“Good call,” said Max, turning and heading down the stairs.
Claire caught Lyla’s arm. When Lyla turned, Claire’s face was paper-white. “What do you mean, Dan?’ she said.
“Oh shit, Claire. I’m sorry. Dan’s the blackmailer. I only just found out myself.”
But from downstairs Max was shouting, “Come on!” and Lyla didn’t have any time to soften the blow.
In The Dark
In Max’s van, Claire rode shotgun while Lyla found herself rattling around in the back with his tools and her bike. They found the road Blake had described to Lyla easily, just a track that led to a wooded clearing.
Lyla gasped as they swung around a corner. The van’s headlights suddenly illuminated a shocking scene. It was Blake, and he was fighting with a figure in a hooded top.
Claire inhaled tightly. “That,” she said firmly, “is not Dan.”
But Lyla was distracted. She couldn’t tell if the fighting figure was Dan or not. Max was already getting out of the van.
Lyla watched Max striding over, then turned and fought with the sliding door of the van for a few seconds before heaving it open and dropping gingerly out into the mud.
Max had only just reached the two fighting men. Blake was already gaining ground and, with Max to help him, the hooded man was quickly overcome. Lyla was close enough by the time Blake pulled down the man’s hood to see that Claire was right. It wasn’t Dan at all. The man on the ground was older, in his early fifties, and he looked somewhat familiar.
Then Lyla heard Claire shout, “Oh my God!”
Lyla turned and scanned around in the dark. At first she couldn’t see where Claire had called out from. The dark and the trees broken up by the hard white beams of Max’s headlights made it almost impossible to discern anything. But then she realised there was another set of headlights. And there, parked behind a little copse, was another van. Dan’s white van. And standing by the back of its open doors was Claire.
Lyla ran around to her. The ground was dry and gritty. She half skidded to a stop next to Claire and stared with her into the back of the van. There, lying on the metal floor, was Dan. Tied up and gagged (again).
For an embarrassed second Lyla found it hard to meet his eye. Then she collected herself and bent forward and, with Claire helping, got Dan untied. As soon as he was free enough, Dan pulled the cloth gag from his mouth and said, “Sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.” And before Lyla could say anything back he had pushed past both of them and was rushing over to where Blake and Max had the blackmailer on the ground.
Lyla and Claire chased him and were near enough to hear him yell, “Jesus, dad, what were you thinking?”
Bedtime
Much later, Claire, Lyla, Max and Blake were at home in bed. They had a big enough bed for all four of them, constructed carefully from joining two divan bases and two mattresses. Lyla had even made double-double sheets to cover it.
Blake was saying, “I’ll have to resign. They still have the photographs. Everything.”
Max stroked Blake’s bare arm. “So do it. If they do spill and the bank don’t like it you can come and work with me on the building site.”
“I’m not strong like you, Max.”
“It’s not all about strength, baby,” Max cooed, pushing Blake down onto the bed and straddling him. “Except when it is.” Max dipped his head, engulfing Blake in an intense kiss.
Lyla looked at the two of them, then over at Claire who was perched on the bed on the far side of Max, draped in her pink satiny dressing gown. “You OK?” she asked.
Claire smiled thinly. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve finished it with Dan. It was just too messy. His dad thought what he was doing was all for Dan’s own good. He found out about us and thought I must be trying to lure Dan into some kind of cult.”
Max lifted his head and reached over towards Claire, snaking one hand under the hem of her robe. “Cult? That’s not exactly what you were trying to lure him into, eh, baby?”
Claire gasped and squirmed on Max’s fingers. Lyla felt her breathing get heavier, as she was sure she knew just how Claire was feeling. Nothing on earth felt quite like Max’s fingertips. She stretched out on the bed next to Blake and placed her mouth on his. He still tasted like Max.
