Behind Brother s Closet
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Back Of The Closet free porn video
I was sitting at my home office desk randomly surfing for just the right
picture to jack off to, when I caught a movement out of the corner of my
eye. With blinding speed, I minimized the window and looked up at the
college student that I had hired to clean house. She was a pretty young
thing with long brown hair and brown eyes to match. Perhaps a little on
the heavy side, but still well proportioned. What I saw in her hands,
though, caused my heart to skip a beat. She was carrying the red patent
leather heels that I had so carefully hidden away.
She held them up and announced that she had found them while cleaning
out the closet in the upstairs bedroom, and inquired what to do with
them. With my heart pounding in my chest, I informed her to go ahead and
throw them out, that they were leftovers from a long ago Halloween party
when my ex-girlfriend had come up with the crazy idea for me to go as a
hooker. I could feel that my face was burning red, and I hoped that she
was buying it, but I knew by the little smile that was playing at the
corners of her mouth that she wasn't.
"Well, you certainly had a wide variety of lingerie to choose from in
those two big suitcases, now didn't you?" She queried.
"No, actually, those belonged to her, and I guess, uh, that she must
have left in such a hurry that she forgot them." I prayed feverishly in
the back of my mind that this lie would go over, but already I was aware
that it was too late.
"Oh, really? It's odd, I've seen pictures of Cynthia, and she's a petite
little thing, why would she have a bunch of size 10 panties and
garterbelts?"
"Uh-well, you know, she did loose a lot of weight after we got together,
and they must have been left over. You might as well throw them out as
well." I wondered how much it would cost to replace all my things, but
instantly decided that it was far cheaper than having a college aged
girl gossiping to her friends about how the lawyer she worked for was a
pervert with a thing for girls' undies.
"Now, Mr. Lawton, James, if I may, these are really your things aren't
they?" Before I had a chance to answer, she plowed ahead, "You obviously
haven't been taking very good care of them. There are stains all over
the inside of some of those panties, probably your favorite ones?" She
asked with a rather coy smile.
"I have no idea." When in doubt, plead the fifth. "I really don't know.
I can assure you that I haven't been wearing them." At this I chuckled,
hoping to cover up the bald faced lie, only last night I had worn a
favorite pair of white lace panties to supper. "By the way, what,
exactly were you doing in that closet?" Counter offensive, might have a
hope of turning it around, make her in the wrong rather than me.
"You hired me to clean the house; I assumed that meant all of it,
including the closets. I only wanted to move some of the things in the
back of that closet so that I could get in there and vacuum all the bugs
out, but apparently you keep things well shuffled in there." The smile
was playing on the corners of her mouth.
"I certainly don't know what you mean. The only time I use that bedroom
is to store off season clothes. I hadn't even noticed that those
suitcases were in there. As far as the heels go, yes, those were mine
and everybody saw me at that party with them on, so I don't think you
have much to go on, Miss. Ford." I patted myself on the back for that
one, good lawyer. Just enough truth, blatant lie, and then shut down the
argument. Who was she to think she could out talk an accomplished trial
lawyer like me, in the first place? I'd gotten some pretty rotten
bastards off, and on top of that had lived with a woman for two years
without her ever finding out the little secret in the back of the
closet. Feeling pretty smug with myself I tented my fingers in front of
my face and looked inquiringly at her, my head cocked slightly to the
side.
"Actually, it's really ironic that I do have a lot to go on. Ms. Cynthia
Green is taking a class at the college, and we've become quite good
friends." She stopped at that and left me to think. I was fairly sure
that Cynthia had never known about the dressing up but I couldn't be
sure. While I was doing my best poker face, Stephanie went on. "She told
me about the suitcases. She told me how you acted so reluctant to go
along with the Halloween party and then seemed to have all kinds of
suggestions about how you should dress. Does any of this sound familiar,
James, or should I call you Jennifer, isn't that the name you picked?"
She finished this by placing one hand on her thrust out hip and looking
at me as if to defy me to try another lie.
I lost it. I knew she probably had the whole story, and trying to hide
any more of it would make me look worse. I still had an out though. She
had signed a confidentiality agreement that covered anything she might
see or hear in this house.
"OK, yeah, those things are mine. However, need I remind you that you
have signed a confidentiality agreement that will not allow you to
divulge the slightest bit of information that you have?"
"Yes, and I believe that agreement only covers information that I have
that has come directly from my association with you. It does not include
an ex-girlfriend. Now if the information that she has given me comes
out, then it will not be covered under that agreement, now would it? I'm
sure that Mrs. Franklin, did you know I cleaned house for her as well?
No? Well, she and I are quite close and she just loves to gossip." My
heart fell through my stomach. Mrs. Franklin would undoubtedly be one of
the senior partners, Mr. Frank Franklin's, wife. The fact that she loved
gossip was undeniable; Frank couldn't speak of anything in the house
without her blabbing all over the upper crust of the community about
what was going on. Now I could see it a little clearer. This little
bitch was going to blackmail me.
"OK, Miss Ford, what's it going to take to keep your mouth shut about
this?" I decided to go ahead and take my lumps. I figured she had a good
idea of what I was worth, and thought about the $25,000 in the safe
under my recliner in the den, thinking that it would all be gone.
"Oh, I don't know." Now she played demure, probably trying to add it up
in her head.
"Well, how does, say, $2,500 sound. Ought to knock a dent in that
tuition bill." Ten percent of what I had in cash would easily be made up
the next time Mr. Neffendorf got into a little trouble. Pad the hours
just a little and I'd be back on top. "Of course you are going to have
to promise me that another word of this will never be spoken, I'm sure
that you understand that is a non-negotiable point, as Mr. Maricone
would phrase it." The Mobster was a client of mine that I knew she had
seen in the house, and was also well known for a few "unconfirmed"
missing witnesses.
"I have something a little different in mind..." she let that trail out
and I began to panic...
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