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Donnas Weekend Part One

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Donna's Weekend Part One By Dan

This is the first of a five part series.

(C) 2009 drpndrp llc No permission to repost on any other site without consent of the author. *********

A light rain was falling as she made the final turn onto her street.

Contrary to her normal driving habits, Donna was in no hurry and the darkening sky and the slick asphalt were not a danger. Her car parked in the driveway, she trudged toward the mailbox and glanced at the windows, knowing they would stare blankly in return. Another long night in an empty house.

"Fucking bills!" she swore as the mailbox yielded its usual handful of credit card statements. Her mood firmly headed downhill after a long, boring day at work, Donna headed to the door, her killer heels making the only happy sound of the evening. The last few steps were her favorite, where the sharp click of her heels on concrete was replaced by a solid "boom, boom, boom" as the concrete yielded to the wooden deck.

"Howdy, Neighbor!" boomed out a voice, startling her as she aimed her key at the lock on the front door. Her neighbor was crossing the street.

She was surprised that she was surprised. Ever since her husband left for an extended overseas assignment, Brian's visits had become more consistent.

As a matter of fact, the lower cut her blouse was, the quicker he was to cross the street. Donna had felt a little adventurous when getting ready that morning, so the combination of a deep v-cut blouse, pencil skirt and bright red heels had Brian practically scampering across Morris Street.

The rain having stopped for the moment, she had no excuse not to visit.

She stepped over to the edge of the deck, leaving the keys dangling in the lock.

"Hi, there" she chirped, masking the malaise she was feeling. "Been playing with your pole again today?"

You have to understand. Even though Donna wasn't interested, she knew how to play the game. The folded flag in Brian's right hand was the spark to this snappy double-entendre and she played it perfectly.

"J-j-j-ust getting ready to head over to Scouts" he stammered, as his eyes darted from side to side, trying to keep up with her. But his mind went blank as she played the trump card and leaned onto the deck rail with her elbows. His eyes locked firmly on her cleavage and his mind went blank.

"Yeah, headed over to Scouts in a few minutes" Brian finally continued, his words coming slowly. He couldn't have told you her eye color if you paid him a million dollars. "Just wondering if you'd want to order any of the chicken dinners we are selling this weekend. Interested?"

"Interested in legs or breasts?"

The silence was deafening as Brian tried to decide if he was thinking "breasts" or if he had heard the word.

"Half chickens" he finally answered, the stare-down with Donna's chest over. Game, set, match.

"Sorry, Brian. With all the kids off at school and Dan out of town, I'm just not eating much. Got to watch the figure." Donna's attitude was quickly perking up, as were her nipples, as the witty repartee continued.

"We're planning a trip to Jamaica soon and I've got a bikini that stills shows a bit too much of me."

One. Two. Three.

Brian's mind finally freed from his mind the image of his MILF neighbor in a bikini and he could speak again. "Hell, woman, you don't need to lose no weight."

"Well, I think my clothes have been a bit tight recently. Have you noticed?"

The marijuana leaf tattoo on Brian's right arm started to twitch, the crotch of his jeans swelled, and his breath took an audible gasp. Any answer put him at risk. "Pffffff!" he finally huffed, "I'd be the last to notice something like that. I've got to get movin'. See you later."

As Brian beat a hasty retreat, Donna watched him do a quick adjustment on his jeans as he crossed back into his garage. The smile on her face dimmed as she turned back to the door, the dangling keys a reminder that no one was there to welcome her home. Microwave dinner. Feed the dog. HGTV.

And this was Friday night...a whole weekend of this could kill her.

Daisies. "What the fuck!" she thought. Her eyes darted around the living room as she entered the house. "Hello? Is anybody here?"

Closing and locking the door behind her, Donna walked over to the vase of flowers on the buffet. Anyone else wanting to impress her would have sent roses, and only Dan knew that the little white-flowered weed was the way to her heart. When the dog waddled into the room and there was no answer to her call, she picked up the card and envelope under the vase and sat down at the table. "How the hell did these get into the house?" she wondered, "Maybe one of the kids delivered them and just didn't let me know they were in town. How sweet."

Sweet was the last word on her mind after she opened the card and started reading.

"I know you. You don't know me. Look at the first page in the envelope and you'll know why."

Any joy lingering from her encounter on the front deck was gone, and her fingers had trouble breaking the seal on the manila envelope. Donna liked being in control, and right now she wasn't.

She pulled out a small bundle of papers and stared at an image of herself. Naked. On her bed. A large purple dildo stuffed in her pussy. A look of bliss on her face, her mouth caught in mid-orgasm. "Oh my God!"

It got worse. Copies of text messages she had sent to a friend while "sexting" along with the photos she had sent of her freshly-shaved pussy.

Screen shots of her breasts from video chats with her husband while he was traveling. Transcripts of phone calls setting up a "fuck buddy" date.

More photos of her masturbating on the back deck. All real. All recent.

She about jumped out of her skin when her cell phone rang. She hit the speakerphone button, unable to pry one hand from the sheaf of papers.

"Hello, Donna. Are you enjoying the photos?" The man's voice purred over the speaker. "I sure have enjoyed the past two weeks with you."

"Who the FUCK is this?" She asked, trying to act tough, but the tremor in her voice revealed the fear in her question. "How did you get this stuff?"

"All in good time, my dear," he continued evenly. "What you need to know now is that I do have it, I am willing to use it, and there is almost nothing you can do about it. Understand?"

"No, I don't." she whispered, the shock settling in. "What is this all about?"

"Why, it's about making your fantasies come true, my dear, at the same time making me a rich man, my fantasy. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you haven't already fantasized about, nothing you haven't already texted about, talked on the phone about, or imagined as you used your selection of toys to get yourself off. As a matter of fact, you will be thanking me for this weekend."

"Right now, I need you to look on the back of the envelope at the web address there. Go to your computer in the bedroom, enter that address, and wait for my instructions. As soon as we hang up, your cell phone will go off the network. If you'll look at the sent messages you'll see that you've told your husband and kids that you're headed to Dallas for the weekend with Tina to a Bon Jovi concert. All the passwords to your email accounts have been changed. I AM connected."

Silence. When the front of her cell phone showed the call had disconnected, she looked and saw "no service" instead of five bars. She navigated quickly to her messages and the last sent text message was just as he described. Her slow walk to the bedroom laptop was a blur as she tried to take in all that had happened in the last five minutes.

After failing to log in to her e-mail account, she reluctantly typed in the URL that was written on the back of the envelope. It was just a series of numbers, not a normal website address, so it took a little while. When she made the connection (what the hell is a security certificate?) there was the same photo, her name and address, and thumbnails of all the other images from the packets. The main picture then flipped like a book in a page and there was a video...of her this morning! The same blouse, same heels, her skirt pulled up to her waist as she dipped two fingers into her wet pussy, getting off before heading to work. Worse than that was the audio. Her voice. "Fuck me, harder. Oh, god. Put that big black cock in me." Her eyes closed, head back, making love to the new manager in her department, one hand working her pussy and the other twisting a nipple through the blouse.

Mercifully, the video ended, and a large "Click Here to Chat" button appeared in its place.

"I see you have found that everything I told you is true." the voice said, a bit tinnier over the internet connection. "You know I can see and track everything you are doing. Do you believe me now?"

"Yes" she whispered.

"Good. Now for the deal. We are partners for the weekend. The web site you just saw is real. It is on a secure server, so only people I let in can get to it. Right now, that's you and me. No one from your country or other selected countries will be able to log on. I can control that, you know. If you don't follow my instructions, that will change. Look down in the right hand corner to the link for New Members."

One click brought up a list of the e-mail addresses of her husband, family, friends and co-workers. For the first time in a little while, she was not surprised.

"Now you understand, right? You don't have to answer, you can just nod because I can see you. Look at the live video feed just under the logo and you can see too."

Donna did.


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