It was never Mila's intention to send explicit images of herself to her crush's father. The realization that her dad's best friend had seen her nude was a nightmarish thought she wished to wake up from.

To her surprise, Mr. Williams requested another naked picture of her. But she couldn't comply.

He was her crush's father and her father's best friend. How could she possibly act like nothing had happened when they were coming over for dinner?

Feeling trapped as Mr. Williams cornered her. He used one hand to pull up the bottom of her dress and the other to grab a handful of her hair, forcing her to arch her back.

"Please," Mila whispered. "Please, Mr. Williams." A moan involuntarily escaped her lips as she felt his erection pressing against her buttocks.

"You have no idea how much power I hold over you, Mila," he murmured. "Anything I desire, you will give me, or do you want me to show your father the picture you sent me?"

Mila's grip on the counter grew tighter as she pushed her backside against him. This was all a mistake. It felt so wrong. "What do you want?" she asked.

"You, on your knees in front of me."

My best friend Ada, lounged beside me on my bed and exclaimed, "Mila, you are exquisitely beautiful." Her eyes were fixed on my phone as she uttered these words.

"You should definitely consider sending Everett that photo of yourself." With a tap on the screen, a provocative selfie of me lying on my bed without a top materialized.

I responded with a playful giggle, opting not to share that particular photo. "No, that one doesn't showcase my features. How about this one instead?" I selected another image of myself positioned against a wall, clad in black lacy lingerie, with my legs spread apart. In the photo, I held a small silver vibrator against my undergarments, my tongue poking out and my eyes closed.

Ada suggested nonchalantly, "Why not send both?"

I raised an eyebrow in response.

"What? It wouldn't hurt to provide him with more options to peruse, if you catch my drift," she added, making a suggestive pelvic motion with her hand.

I stared at the pictures, contemplating Ada's proposal. She did make a valid point. To be honest, simply gazing at them had already aroused me. I could only imagine what his reaction would be. I knew he would immediately desire me and I craved that.

I scrolled to Everett's contact on my phone and sent him the two photos with the caption: Wish you were here with me. ;)

As I set my phone aside, Ada beamed. "When will you see him next? Perhaps you two can finally have sex!"

I rolled onto my stomach and kicked my feet into the air. "He and his father are supposed to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

The alliance between my father and Everett's father, Mr. Williams, at CloseNet Engineering, spanned fifteen years since its inception. Our families shared weekly dinner gatherings, embarked on vacations together, and even celebrated holidays as one.

"Lately, Everett has been a tease," I murmured, reminiscing on the multitude of lewd texts he had sent me. I couldn't help but squeeze my knees together.

During high school, Everett and I would flirt back and forth, but nothing more. He was known as the bad boy, a player, the epitome of every girl's fantasy. We never had the opportunity to act on our mutual attraction, partly due to my own resistance. Whenever he made advances, I relished the idea of turning him away.

The thought of him out on dates with all those attractive women, opening up one of my provocative messages or pictures, made me wet. Imagining him placing his phone on the table, his hand pressing against his growing arousal, trying to calm himself down, before eventually excusing himself to take care of the issue in the bathroom.

Damn, I had indulged in that fantasy one too many times. I was tempted to give in and let him have me.

Before Ada left for the day, she made me promise to text her as soon as Everett replied. But every time I checked my phone, there were no messages from him.

By four p.m., I couldn't stop bouncing my knee, my teeth tugging at my lip, my heart racing. He always responded within minutes.

Maybe he was no longer interested in playing this game. Perhaps sending two pictures was too much. I didn't know, but I needed to find out. What if there was something wrong?

My phone buzzed, and I jumped up, eagerly opening the message.

Everett Williams: Mila, I don't believe this is appropriate.

My heart plummeted. How could he find it inappropriate? We had been exchanging messages like this for nearly two months, and all of a sudden, he had a change of heart. Where was his usual sassy comeback?

Me: What do you mean? You didn't like the pictures?

He responded within seconds.

Everett Williams: Oh no, I love them. I'm aroused just by looking at them. If possible, I would invite you to my bed.

Me: So, what's the issue, Everett? Come over. My dad is at work.

Everett Williams: Double check the person you are messaging.

I stared at the name on the screen, my eyes widening in shock. "Oh no, how could I be so foolish?" My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I read the name repeatedly, struggling to believe that I had just sent my explicit photos to Everett's father.

Me: OMG, I am deeply sorry, Mr. Williams. I intended to send those to someone else. Please do not inform my dad about this! I am mortified.

I pulled the covers over my head, trying to hide from the overwhelming embarrassment. My cheeks felt like they were on fire; my heart racing even faster than before.

Mr. Williams: Don't be ashamed, Mila. You are exceptionally alluring.

I widened my eyes at his response, my heart racing with desire for a brief moment. Mr. Williams was almost as old as my father, but his attractiveness had always been undeniable. Ada and I had a huge crush on him during high school.

I took a deep breath and chose to keep my reply muted.

Me: Thank you.

He did not respond, and I was left wondering what he was thinking. I just prayed that he wouldn't tell my dad about the photos.

And to be sure, I avoided my dad when he returned from work. I didn't come out for dinner, bid him good night, or even respond to anyone's messages, including Everett's.

Early the next morning, he knocked on my door and entered my room. The sunlight flooded in through the window. "Mila, do you have anything you want to tell me?"

My eyes widened, and I sat up in bed. "Um, no. Why?" I asked, gripping the sheets in my sweaty palms.

He shrugged. "You usually come down and eat dinner with us. Are you feeling unwell?"

I smiled at my dad, feeling relieved. "Oh, I just wasn't feeling great," I lied.

"Well, hopefully, you're feeling better by tonight. Everett and his father are coming over for dinner," he said. Then, he kissed my head and left for work.

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.

My cheeks flushed red, and I stood up from my seat. "No! I'll go, uh … get some of my pictures that I've taken.

They're in my room. It's much better than a picture on a phone. You can't ever see anything on those things. I'll be right back," I said, leaping out of my chair.

Before I left the room, I gave Mr. Williams a pointed stare, trying to tell him that I was going to go get that damn vibrator and put it inside of me. For him.

"Fuck!" I said once I rushed into my room. "This really can't be happening."

I searched for a picture that looked semi-decent to bring down to show my parents. Luckily, I found one that Ada had taken a few years ago that she gave me.

I removed it from the frame and then grabbed my vibrator and buried it inside of me. A soft vibration pulsed through my core, and I silently cursed. This was going to be a long night.

When I made it back downstairs, I gave my parents the picture and sat with my legs crossed on my chair, my panties soaked. Mr. Williams was smirking at me.

It's inside. I hope you're happy, I texted him.

I'm more than happy, he said.

He put down his utensil and slipped his hand under the table. I closed my eyes and gripped the bottom of my seat, core tightening around the vibrator. The pressure built between my legs, and I tried to pull myself out of the dirty, dirty thoughts that I was thinking about, like Mr. Williams thrusting himself inside of me.

"Mila! This picture is beautiful!" Mom said.

I gave her a forced smile and glanced at Mr. Williams. I knotted my eyebrows together. The pressure was too much. If this continued, I was going to come apart right here in front of everyone.

Mr. Williams loosened his collar slightly and reached for his phone. I just want to bend you over this table and pound into you.

My legs trembled at his words. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep a neutral expression.

"So, Mila, when did you get into photography?" Mr. Williams asked.

I pulled my seat in, hips moving slightly against the seat itself. Everyone stared at me, waiting for my answer.

"I, uh, I started … like … maybe …" I said. I could barely focus. I pressed my breasts against the table, loving the cold feeling of marble against my nipples. "Uh …"

Mr. Williams smirked.

"Three months ago … maybe?"

"Do you like it?" he asked. I could taste his hunger from across the table.

I bit my lip and nodded my head at him. "Can I be excused? I-I have to do some … difficult homework for my economics class," I said. I needed to get this damn vibrator out of me before I came in front of my parents.

"Of course, sweetie," Mom said with a smile.

"I can help," Mr. Williams said.

"Oh." I grabbed the table, fingertips turning white, core tight. "No. I don't think-"

"Mila, he's the businessman of the company. Take advantage of him while he's here," Dad said.

I gazed at Dad, then Mr. Williams.

"I would love to help, Mila. Why don't you go show me what it is that's hard for you?"

"Okay," I said quietly. I jumped out of my seat, crossing my legs over one another and stumbling out of the room.

Mr. Williams followed me upstairs. As soon as I entered my room, I leaned over my bed and moaned softly. God, it felt so good.

He closed the door softly behind me and pushed me onto the bed. The bed dipped next to me. He grazed his fingers inside of my thigh, making me clench even harder.

And as his fingers skimmed across my wet panties, I whimpered. He slipped a finger inside and began rubbing circles around my clit.

"Mr. Williams, I-I …" I stuttered.

I moaned out as he pulled the vibrator out of me. His warm breath fanned my neck, and he peppered wet kisses down it. Leaning over on one of his elbows, he pushed his fingers inside of me. I gripped on to his wrist as he thrust them deeper.

The sound of my tightness being thrust into over and over made me wetter.

After a few moments, he pulled his fingers out of me and placed them on my lips. "Suck on it," he demanded.

I wrapped my lips around his fingers and sucked my wetness off as I gazed at him through my lashes. He took a deep breath and closed his hungry eyes as he undid his belt.

"Fuck, Mila." He crawled off of the bed, pulled down his pants, and smirked down at me.

His fingers gripped my underwear from underneath my dress, and he slowly pulled them off of me. He brushed his fingers down the insides of my thighs. I stood, craving his touch, and pressed my lips to his.

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me back with it. "Turn around."

I turned around and placed my hands on the bed. With one hand, he fingered the bottom of my dress and pulled it up. With the other, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me to arch my back. He rubbed his hardness against my entrance.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, Mr. Williams."

He pushed himself into me slowly. I clenched the bedsheets in my hand as his thick length filled me. He wrapped an arm around my torso and groped my breast through my dress, softly tugging on my earlobe.

"You have no idea how much power I have over you, Mila," he murmured. He thrusting into me. "Anything I want, you can and will give me, or do you want me to show your father the naked picture you sent to me?."

I gripped the bedsheets harder, thrusting my hips back against his. "What do you want?"

"You, on your knees, in front of me."