Luz’s phone buzzed, the sound slicing through the oppressive silence of her bedroom. The message read: -“Bag #2 from the box. Wear what’s inside.” She stared, disbelief washing over her. She’d been so close to completing the last task, the three minutes slipping away despite her desperate crawl through the house. Now, what new torment awaited? Still naked, her full breasts heaving, pink nipples stark against her flushed skin, her flat stomach taut, her pussy and juicy ass bare, she approached the box in the corner. Turning her back to the window—its open blinds a constant threat—she bent down, her ass cheeks raised high, her pussy and asshole fully exposed now to any neighborly gaze. The shame was unbearable, a relentless wave with no end.

Her fingers fumbled with the box, retrieving bag #2, the crinkle of plastic loud in her ears. She opened it, pulling out a yellow bikini—a skimpy two-piece, the top barely covering her full breasts, the bottoms a thin strip that would cling to her bottoms. Her next challenge crystallized in her mind—another public humiliation, likely involving Timmy and his friends. Her heart raced, the open window taunting her, the heat amplifying her sweat-soaked skin, as she stood frozen, the bikini in hand, dreading what was to come.

She grabbed the bikini bottoms, pulled them up her thighs, the tight fit molding to her pussy, covering just the essentials in front with a narrow strip. The sides featured adjustable knots, and she fumbled to tie them at each hip, her fingers trembling as she secured the left, then the right, the knots resting low, accentuating her curves. The back was a mere thread, sinking deep between her ass cheeks, the exposure blatant yet deliberate. Her heart raced, the taboo pulse flickering as she adjusted the fit, the heat amplifying her sweat-slicked skin.

Next, she reached for the bikini top, its yellow matching the bottom, a skimpy design with thin straps. She slipped it over her shoulders, the fabric barely containing her full breasts, her pink nipples pressing against the scant material. She tied the back strap, the knot snug between her shoulder blades, then adjusted the front, the top plunging into a deep cleavage that showcased the upper swell of her full breasts, leaving little to the imagination. The coverage was minimal, holding her rounded breasts in place but highlighting their firmness. She stepped to the mirror, her reflection a shock—the bikini was even more revealing, the bottom a whisper of fabric between her ass cheeks, the top framing her deep cleavage like a taunt.

The thought of Timmy, his friends—especially Edgard, with his bold stares and lingering hands from the kitchen incident —or neighbors seeing her like this filled her with shame. The patio promised neighborly eyes, Weaver’s gaze perhaps among them, and the pool’s proximity loomed with Timmy and the boys. She was trapped in the blackmailer’s labyrinth, her exposure escalating with no choice.

Her phone buzzed, halting her. The message read: “Don’t forget to put the towel.” “The towel??” Luz muttered, confusion flashing through her. 

She turned back to bag #2, rummaging through it, and found the small towel she’d overlooked in her initial shock. She pulled it out, its fabric soft but scant, and draped it over her body. It covered from the end of her deep cleavage, barely concealing the swell of her full breasts. The bikini’s thin straps peeked out, the only hint she wasn’t naked beneath, though anyone seeing her might assume otherwise. The heat clung to her skin, the open window taunting, as she adjusted the towel, its fragile shield doing little to ease her shame.

Luz stepped out of her room, her butt swaying beneath the towel’s edge, the bikini bottom’s thread between them a constant reminder of her vulnerability. She moved through the dining room, the open blinds offering neighbors a potential view, her tits shifting under the towel’s minimal cover. Reaching the patio door, she paused, the boys’ laughter drifting from the pool beyond. They played with a ball, oblivious, their carefree shouts a stark contrast to the privileged, revealing sight they were about to encounter as she stepped outside.

Luz stood at the patio door, her cellphone gripped tightly in one hand, her chest tight with fear and shame. The midday sun blazed around 3:00 PM on this sweltering Saturday, casting sharp shadows across the patio. The small towel wrapped around her did its best to shield her, its edges barely meeting as she braced herself to step outside. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, the warm concrete warming her bare feet. Her destination was the lounger near the shallow end, and she moved toward it, her steps tentative, the towel swaying with each motion.

The boys were in the pool, tossing a ball back and forth, their laughter echoing over the splash of water. Timmy spotted her first, his eyes widening as he took in the towel’s sparse cover. As she approached the lounger, the others noticed too. From the front, they could see how the towel struggled to cover part of her cleavage, leaving much of her breasts exposed, and as she walked, the start of her cheeks brushed the towel’s lower edge, a sight that held their attention. Timmy caught the way Edgard, Lucas, and Mathias shared a knowing smile, a silent exchange that tightened his jaw with unease. Luz didn’t turn to look, but the sudden hush over the pool—the ball’s splash ceasing, the chatter fading—told her they were watching her. To break the silence, she forced a smile and called out, “Hey, kids, I’m just here to catch some sun. Don’t worry about me, keep playing!” Her voice wavered, but the boys nodded, though their focus remained on her.

She reached the lounger and sat down, the fabric warm against her skin, preparing to lie back. Her cellphone buzzed in her hand, the screen lighting up with a new message: “Remove the towel.” Her breath caught, fear and shame flooding her. She knew this would expose her fully to Timmy’s friends, likely sparking more anger from Timmy, who’d already warned her about showing too much before. Yet the weight of the unspoken threat left her no choice. Her hands trembled as she loosened the towel, letting it fall to her sides. As it dropped, her breasts came into view, cradled by the yellow bikini top—a skimpy piece of fabric that barely contained them. The material stretched taut across her chest, the thin straps digging slightly into her shoulders, while the front plunged into a deep cleavage that revealed the soft curves of her upper breasts, the edges of her skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat under the sun. The bikini top’s minimal coverage left her breasts prominently displayed, their shape accentuated by the tight fit, the yellow fabric contrasting against her flushed skin. Seated as she was, her groin and thighs were also exposed, the bikini bottom a narrow strip that hinted at her pussy beneath, her legs slightly parted as she shifted to lie back. The vulnerability of her upper body, from her cleavage to her thighs, hit her hard.

She felt the boys’ gazes like a physical touch—Timmy’s eyes widened with a mix of shock and frustration, while Edgard, Lucas, and Mathias, with their shared smile, stared with unabashed interest. The air seemed to thicken, their silence a heavy presence, and she could sense the heat of their attention on her breasts, her groin, her thighs. It was as if their eyes traced every inch of exposed skin, a sensation that made her skin prickle with shame, yet a faint, unwanted thrill pulsed beneath it. She lay back slowly, the lounger creaking under her weight, her mind racing with the inevitability of this moment, the sun beating down as she braced for what might come next.

After a while, her skin warmed under the sun, her body tense as she kept her position face-up to avoid exposing her backside. The boys had resumed their game, though their movements were distracted, their glances darting back to her. Minutes later, her cellphone buzzed again, the screen flashing with a new message: “Stand and apply sunscreen, ensuring the boys see you—front first, then back.” Her stomach dropped, but she knew refusal wasn’t an option. She rose slowly, her legs unsteady, and grabbed the sunscreen bottle from the lounger’s side. She squeezed the cream into her hands, the cool liquid a shock against her warm skin, and began rubbing it across her shoulders. The lotion spread smoothly, leaving a glossy sheen that caught the sunlight, her skin glistening as it absorbed the protection. She moved to her stomach, the cream sliding over the taut surface, a faint white trail fading into a soft glow. Next, she worked it into the front of her legs, her fingers tracing down her shins and calves, the skin taking on a slick, reflective finish under the midday heat.

Hesitating, she saved her breasts for last, the shame of their exposure burning her cheeks. With a deep breath, she applied the sunscreen there, her hands gliding over the tops of her breasts, the yellow bikini top barely containing them. The cream coated the exposed curves, transforming the skin into a shiny, vulnerable display, the fabric’s edges accentuating the shape as the lotion seeped slightly beneath. She ensured no spot was missed, her fingers trembling with embarrassment, the act drawing every eye. She turned, presenting her back, and they were met with a full view of her ass, the tiny bikini bottom, a narrow strip that dug into her ass cheeks, the fabric disappearing between them. Her legs stretched out, the sunscreen glistening as she rubbed it down her thighs and calves, the skin taking on a polished sheen. She moved to her back, her hands sliding upward, the cream leaving a slick trail along her spine. Bending slightly to reach her lower legs, her exposure grew—the bikini bottom’s minimal coverage stretched taut, revealing more of her buttocks as she avoided bending too far, knowing the fabric wouldn’t shield her fully.

As she began applying sunscreen to her ass cheeks, the lotion spreading across the firm curves, turning them glossy and reflective, Edgard called out, “Need a hand with that?” His tone carried a playful edge, and Timmy’s eyes narrowed, a flash full of jealousy crossing his face as he watched. Lucas and Mathias stifled laughs, their shoulders shaking. Luz shook her head, her voice unsteady, “No, thanks, I’m good.” Edgard leaned closer, his smile widening, “You sure? I’m pretty good with my hands.” The double meaning hung in the air, and a fleeting memory flickered in Luz’s mind—the kitchen incident where Edgard’s hands had gripped her ass cheeks, a moment of betrayal that flooded her with guilt toward Timmy for letting it happen. Before she could respond, her cellphone buzzed again. The message read: “Don’t be a bad hostess. Accept the boy’s help. Do what he says.” Her heart sank, the order inescapable. Within, a silent scream rose—No, not Edgard, of all people—the one Timmy despises most, with his brazen smirk and audacious hands. The thought of this boy, with his cocky edge, touching her body was suffocating. Now he’d trace her bare skin, no leggings to dull the contact, just this flimsy bikini leaving her nearly exposed. His memory would hoard this moment, a vivid imprint he would remember for life, and the thought twisted her gut with dread. The humiliation engulfed her, yet a treacherous wave of arousal surged beneath, a tangled current of shame and unwanted desire that left her reeling.

Forcing a smile, she said in the most innocent tone she could muster, “Actually… I could use some help here.” Edgard’s eyes lit up, disbelief turning to triumph—he’d thrown the comment out to tease with the others, but now he was in heaven. Timmy’s jealousy flared, imagining his mother being touched by this idiot unbearable, especially with Lucas and Mathias snickering behind him. He felt humiliated, the weight of their amusement crushing. Edgard climbed out of the pool, water dripping from his skinny frame, and turned to his friends, his gaze lingering on Timmy with a taunting edge, “Guys, I’ll be back—need to lend a hand.” Timmy’s jealousy soared, his mother yielding to this boy he despised adding insult to injury.

Edgard approached Luz, now close enough to take in her form—the sun highlighted the glossy sheen of sunscreen on her shoulders and back, the bikini bottom’s strip vanishing between her ass cheeks, the top framing a deep cleavage that left her breasts tantalizingly close to spilling out. Her skin glistened, every curve accentuated by the lotion, her thighs firm and slick.

She stood still, awaiting his move, her skin gleaming from the sunscreen. Edgard approached, water dripping from his skinny frame, shifted the lounger a few meters, angling it so that from the pool, the boys and Timmy couldn’t get a clear view, and said, “Actually… let’s move the lounger a bit for better sun, then lie face-down—it’ll be more comfortable. I give great massages too.” The offer sounded innocent enough, transforming the sunscreen application into a potential massage session. Luz hesitated, her stomach knotting at the thought of lying face-down, the bikini bottom’s strip buried deep between her ass cheeks, exposing her ass completely to Edgard. The idea of him—precisely him—seeing her so intimately, his hands soon to explore her skin, churned her with disgust; this was the last person she’d have chosen, his closeness a breach she’d never envisioned. -“No, Edgard, I’d rather not,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she took a step back. He paused, his usual awkward grin softening into an unexpectedly earnest expression, and said gently, -“Come on, Luz, just a minute—my hands are good at this, and it’ll ease that tension after all this heat. You’ve been on edge all day.” The sudden warmth in his tone caught her off guard, disarming her resistance, and with a reluctant sigh, she complied, lowering herself face-down onto the lounger, the fabric warm against her chest, her body rigid with tension, acutely aware of the hidden vantage he now held.

Edgard grabbed the sunscreen, squirting a generous amount into his hands. In a calm, professional tone, he said, “I’ll start with your back, Mrs. Lopez, to make sure everything’s covered.” Luz’s stomach churned with unease at his voice so close to her, the nerdy boy’s presence feeling intrusive and wrong.

He began applying it, massaging her shoulders, down her arms, and along her waist with skilled strokes, the lotion spreading in even, kneading motions, leaving her skin slick and relaxed. -“You must be tired from exercising today. How much did you run?” he asked lightly, leaning closer, his tone sparking unease, her body tensing with quiet rejection, then moving to her lower back with professional precision. Luz, her voice tinged with reluctant shame yet a hint of excitement, murmured, -“Oh… maybe a few kilometers, I suppose?”, He chuckled lightly, -“Relax, I’ll work out those knots” his words maintaining a professional air. Then, without asking, Edgard leaned closer, his voice softer “I’m untying your top, Mrs. Lopez, so it doesn’t get wet or ruined.” His voice, now closer to her ear, sent a shiver of rejection through Luz, her cheeks burning with shame at the intimacy of his tone. Before she could protest, she felt the cords loosen, his fingers deftly undoing the knot, the bikini top falling to the sides. The audacity stunned her—this nerdy boy had the nerve to take such liberties.. “Is that really needed?” she whispered, her voice trembling with reluctant acquiescence, knowing she couldn’t refuse. Edgard, leaning slightly closer, murmured, “Trust me, Mrs. Lopez, it’ll be worth it.” he murmured, his voice low, close to her ear. Luz’s cheeks flushed, his intimate tone deepening her discomfort, her body rigid under his audacity.

His hands returned to her now-bare back, his touch was nearly professional demeanor. His strokes were firm yet measured, kneading the tense muscles with a rhythm that suggested experience, working from the tops of her shoulders down along her spine in slow, deliberate circles. “You carry a lot of tension here,” he noted, his tone almost detached as he pressed his thumbs into the knots near her shoulder blades, releasing the stiffness with practiced ease. A soft, involuntary “Mmm…” escaped Luz’s lips, a weak moan of satisfaction betraying her as the pressure eased her strain. To Edgard, this subtle sound was a small triumph, fueling his confidence and emboldening him to push further.

He moved lower, his fingers gliding along the curve of her upper back, spreading the slick lotion in even therapeutic motions, the coolness of the cream contrasting with the heat of her skin. Luz felt her body begin to yield, a faint “Ahh…” slipping out, though the intimacy of his proximity kept her on edge, his voice still lingering in her mind, its earlier softness sparking a quiet rejection. He worked methodically, tracing the contours of her back with steady pressure, pausing occasionally to adjust his grip, his hands moving with a precision that belied his youthful appearance. “Just let me handle this,” he said, his voice low and close to her ear, spoken close to her ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of discomfort through her. Luz tensed, his husky tone deepening her shame, yet a reluctant thrill stirred as her body responded to his skilled touch. Another trembling “Ohh…” broke from her, a sign of pleasure she couldn’t suppress, and for Edgard, this was the cue to push further.

His hands grew bolder, sliding along the sides of her back while massaging, inching closer to the edges of her breasts with each pass.  “You’re the prettiest mom in Timmy’s class, you know,” he murmured. Luz’s cheeks flushed with shame, her response laced with reluctant embarrassment and growing excitement, “Oh… thank you, I guess?” she whispered, her voice trembling with embarrassment and unwanted arousal.

As he neared the soft curves, she felt his fingers brush the sides of her breasts while massaging, prompting her to whisper, “Maybe a little less there?” His hands roamed further, tracing the undersides with a kneading motion, and she added softly, “Careful, please?” the motion deliberate and lingering near her nipples. She was certain this was intentional, not a massage technique, yet it felt incredibly good, her muscles relaxing while her excitement surged. The betrayal deepened—Timmy’s enemy caressing her so intimately—but she couldn’t stop him.

Then, with a casual tug, he pulled the top aside completely. “No, wait—don’t!” Luz gasped, her hands instinctively reaching to stop him, but Edgard held firm, saying smoothly close to her ear, “It was in the way—didn’t want it ruined by the sunscreen.” Her breath caught as the fabric slipped off, leaving her nearly naked before Timmy’s friend, the tiny bikini bottom her only cover now.

The situation spiraled out of her control, her body exposed in a way she’d never imagined, the humiliation crashing over her like a wave. She felt the shame of being seen so vulnerably by this boy. Yet, an undeniable excitement pulsed through her, her skin tingling with arousal. She was powerless, bound by the blackmailer’s demands, her dignity slipping away with each passing second.

Edgard whispering, “You can tell you exercise daily” focusing on massaging the area deeply. Her face burned with shame at his intimate observation, her voice trembling, “Oh… I try, I suppose?” He grinned, “Just a compliment,” and continued the massage. As the situation felt increasingly out of control, with Edgard’s hands now sliding along the sides of her back, brushing the edges of her breasts, his movements grew bolder without the top to restrain him. His hands moved up and down the entire zone, each pass venturing closer to her nipples, the contact sending a shiver through her.

The slow, deliberate strokes intensified, his fingertips grazing the sensitive undersides with growing confidence, testing the boundaries of her exposed skin. Luz’s breath hitched, her body tensing as the heat of his touch spread, a confusing mix of dread and arousal coiling within her. Overwhelmed, she murmured, “Maybe you could do my lower back and legs instead?” He grinned, “Good idea—let’s do it,” and moved downward, his hands lingering a moment longer on her sides before shifting, leaving her acutely aware of the line he’d nearly crossed.

Now Edgard shifted to her lower back, his touch initially therapeutic, she felt the tension ease, then, his hands sliding under the bikini strap, lowering it slightly with each back-and-forth motion. She noticed the intentional shift, doubting this was a normal massage, yet it felt so good, her excitement growing despite her inability to refuse the blackmailer’s orders.

Luz found herself beginning to enjoy the massages; they genuinely helped relax her muscles, easing the tension in her body while her excitement grew with each touch. He squeezed more sunscreen into his palms, starting innocently on her calves now with light, professional-like strokes while massaging, the lotion turning her skin glossy. “See? Gentle” he said. Luz nodded, “Yes… that’s nice, I think?” He moved to her shins, then knees, massaging the cream in with a reflective sheen. “Strong legs—feel how firm they are,” he noted, focusing on kneading the area, and she blushed, “Oh… maybe, I guess?” As he reached her thighs, starting on the outer sides, the lotion spread in slow, massaging circles. “Nice shape here,” he added, leaning closer to her ear, and she murmured, “Is that part of it?” The intimacy escalated as he slid along the inner thighs while massaging, nearing her pussy, his breath hot against her ear, “Almost there—feeling good?” Luz gasped, “Yeah… Isn’t that a bit much?” her arousal battling her shame, yet she didn’t resist.

He shifted to her lower back again, tracing and massaging above the bikini bottom. Then moved to her ass, taking his time, the cream slicking the firm curves while he massaged. “Great form here,” he whispered near her ear, focusing on kneading deeply, and Luz, her voice quivering, said, “Ah.. thanks?” her tone betraying her discomfort at his suggestive voice. He kneaded her ass cheeks deliberately, the motion causing them to jiggle softly with each press, starting with the outer parts before moving inward without restraint. His fingers hooked the bikini bottom’s straps, and Luz’s mind raced—What is he doing? He’s going to…—as she instinctively reached back with her hands to stop him, trying to pull the straps back up. Edgard swiftly grabbed her wrists, holding them firmly, and whispered close to her ear, “Relax. Gotta get this part too, Mrs. López,” his voice a husky, intimate purr that amplified her shame yet sparked an unwanted thrill. The bikini bottom remained tugged down below the start of her ass cheeks’ crease, exposing the upper curve and a hint of her crease, her hands now pinned by his grip. She felt utterly submitted, her breath shallow with disbelief that this brazen boy dared to take such control, leaving her vulnerable and powerless beneath his audacity.

Edgard continued massaging her ass for a while, lowering the thong even further with each deliberate pass, exposing more of her skin. As he did, Luz turned her head to face him, her expression incredulous, her heart pounding with a surge of shame. The movement caused her to lift her chest slightly, her full breasts now partially visible, adding to her vulnerability. From the pool, the distant laughter and splashes of Timmy and his friends echoed, each sound a sharp reminder of her son’s proximity, intensifying her dread of discovery. She was nearly naked, the overwhelming exposure igniting a tumultuous mix of humiliation and reluctant excitement within her. By this point, Edgard had firmly taken control of the situation, his confident hands dictating her exposure with unyielding authority.

Pausing his kneading, Edgard reached for a cushion nearby, his voice a low murmur in her ear, “Let’s make you more comfortable, Mrs. López.” He gently lifted her by the stomach and hips, his hand pressing firmly against her skin, his fingers grazing perilously close to the thin fabric covering her pussy, an intimacy that stunned her. Luz tensed, the sensation igniting a flush of shame, her body stiffening with rejection yet quivering with an unwanted thrill as he acted without asking, his audacity continuing to surprise her. As she settled onto the cushion, her hips rose, the bikini bottom shifting to reveal her pussy’s outline and her asshole barely covered, his seductive voice amplifying her arousal despite her mind’s protest, the closeness of his touch weaving an inescapable web of vulnerability around her.

Edgard began massaging her buttocks again, his hands moving with deliberate care, the cream slicking the firm curves as he kneaded them, causing her ass cheeks to sway gently with the rhythm of his touch. The sight was splendid for him—never had he imagined gaining such an intimate view of Timmy’s mother, the tiny bikini strip barely covering her asshole, offering a tantalizing glimpse. Luz felt the intensity of his hands, certain now that his touches were intentional, far beyond a normal massage, yet the sensation was intoxicating, her excitement mounting despite the blackmailer’s hold over her. The betrayal to Timmy, her son, cut deep—allowing this kid to explore her so thoroughly, yet she couldn’t stop him.

It all goes back hours, when chaos erupted. Those three frantic minutes of not being able to retrieve the white thong from the table in the kitchen triggered this downward spiral, leading to this moment hours later with her now wearing only a tiny bikini bottom lowered to her ass cheeks’ crease and Edgard touching her at will. She murmured softly, “Edgard, maybe that’s enough there?” her tone laced with reluctant shame. He replied evasively, “Just making sure it’s all covered—relax, Mrs. Lopez”

His hands grew bolder, sliding between her ass cheeks, his fingers now venturing inside with no restraint, parting the flesh slightly as he continued massaging. The motion exposed the shadowed outline of her asshole on either side of the bikini strip, a sight that fueled Edgard’s audacity. Luz gasped, a small moan escaping her lips, the sound involuntary and filled with a mix of pleasure and humiliation. Edgard grinned, catching the sound, and said, “See? I’m really good with my hands.” Her face burned with shame—Timmy’s friend was touching her in utterly forbidden places now, the boundary of a normal massage crossed long ago, teetering on the edge of something almost sexual. She tried again, her voice trembling, “Edgard, Timmy is here, he might notice…” He chuckled evasively, “He’s too busy in the pool—don’t worry about it. The important thing is that you feel good Mrs. Lopez”

Edgard persisted, his hands kneading her ass with increased vigor, the ass cheeks jiggling more pronouncedly with each press, the view mesmerizing him as he marveled at the privilege of this moment with his “friend’s” mother. Luz’s attempts to deter him continued, “Your friends are there, they could see…” He responded smoothly, “They can’t see a thing from there Mrs. Lopez.” The massage deepened, his fingers tracing the crevice more boldly, and she added, “The neighbors might look over…” He dismissed it with, “Nobody’s looking Mrs. Lopez.” Each evasive reply left her more exposed, her excitement peaking as she struggled with the shame of her son’s enemy handling her so intimately.

Eventually, he shifted to massaging the inner thighs again, the position with the cushion under her stomach exposing her pussy even more, the scant bikini fabric clinging to her lips, barely concealing them. His hands worked professionally at first, relaxing her muscles with skilled strokes, but the intimacy escalated as he moved higher, his fingers brushing closer to her pussy with each pass. Luz felt her arousal intensify, her body responding with soft, shame-filled moans she couldn’t suppress. She whispered, “Edgard, please, not there…” He replied evasively, “Just working the tension out—almost done.” His fingers grew bolder, now grazing over the bikini fabric, feeling the heat of her excitement, the touches deliberate and unrestrained. She moaned again, her voice quivering, “Edgard, Timmy’s right there” He grinned, “He won’t see a thing—let me finish this.”

The escalation continued as his hands slipped beneath the fabric, his fingers now touching the bare skin of her lips, the direct contact sending shivers through her. Luz’s excitement reached a crescendo, her moans growing slightly louder despite her efforts to stop them, the forbidden thrill overwhelming her. She tried once more, “The neighbors…” Edgard brushed it off, “Focus on how good this feels Mrs. Lopez” His massage persisted, his fingers exploring further, the intimacy undeniable as Luz’s body betrayed her with each touch. She couldn’t end it, bound by the blackmailer’s demands, her shame and arousal locked in a torturous dance. Her son’s friend now intimately acquainted with her most private zones—yet the sensation was too powerful to resist.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the tension—Timmy calling from the pool, “Edgard, come on, we need one more for the ball game!” Edgard smirked, his fingers still pressed against the bare skin of Luz’s pussy, and replied loudly, “My hands are a bit occupied here, aren’t they, Mrs. Lopez?” Luz’s face flushed with a searing mix of shame and guilt at his brazen comment, knowing his fingers were now in direct contact with her pussy. The realization that this nerdy boy, with his audacious cynicism, was exploring her so intimately in front of her son’s presence overwhelmed her. The humiliation was total—how could she face Timmy after this? As she struggled to respond, she felt Edgard’s fingers probing at the entrance of her vagina, testing the boundaries, the situation spiraling beyond her control. With her voice trembling, affected by her rising excitement, she called back, “Yes, Timmy, just… just a little longer.” The thought that Timmy might see this, that he’d never forgive her, clawed at her heart. And what of Edgard—how could she look him in the eye if Timmy invited him back? She was lost in a labyrinth of her own making, trapped by her body’s betrayal.

Edgard, emboldened by her lack of resistance, shifted his focus. No longer content with the sides, his fingers now roamed freely across her entire pussy, massaging it with deliberate strokes, his fingers tracing near the entrance with growing confidence. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his tone smug. Luz, consumed by her excitement and unable to deny or resist any longer, let out a deep, involuntary moan that reached his ears. Edgard chuckled, “Seems like it,” his satisfaction evident as he pushed further. Seeing her completely surrendered, he did something she never imagined she’d endure—he reached for the cords of her bikini bottom, untying them with a swift tug. Luz, reacting instinctively, raised one hand to stop him, her voice breaking as she began, “Edgard, hold on, I can’t let you—!” But Edgard caught her wrist, halting her words mid-sentence, and leaned close, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “Shh, don’t fight, Mrs. López.” The fabric slid off entirely, leaving Luz completely naked, no barrier left between her and the nerdy boy’s unrelenting gaze.

Her nudity in her own patio, with Timmy and his friends just meters away in the pool, was a stark reality. How had an 18-year-old led her to this? His audacity had brought them here, each touch driving her excitement higher, her body fully surrendered. She couldn’t speak, could only pray no one was watching—her son, his friends, the neighbors—while one of Edgard’s hands continued along her body, the other gripped her hand firmly. The irreverence of his actions left her exposed and vulnerable.

With both of Luz’s hands now free, the vision for Edgard was unparalleled. Her round, firm, juicy ass was fully exposed, her asshole visible in stark detail, and her shaved pussy lay bare before him, every contour and curve open to his gaze. He marveled at the sight, his hands returning to her pussy with deliberate intent, his fingers hovering near the entrance. He teased the opening with two fingers, pressing lightly without pushing inside, savoring the moment. Luz, by now fully surrendered, was lost in the sensation, never having dreamed she’d share such an intimate encounter with this boy. She was enjoying it, her body responding with subtle shifts, her excitement building as Edgard’s hands roamed the sensitive zone. He moved back to her asscheeks, kneading them with slow, deliberate presses, making them bounce with each motion, taking his time to appreciate their firmness. The boy’s audacity grew as he parted her ass cheeks wider, exposing her asshole more fully. He ran two fingers along its rim, the touch sending a jolt through Luz, and as she instinctively reached with one hand to push him away, he whispered close to her ear, “Smells delicious,” his voice dripping with smug satisfaction, her futile attempt ignored. Luz’s face burned with mortification—her son had warned her about him, and now he had her naked in the patio, touching places he should never have seen, let alone explored. Yet, her excitement surged higher, a shameful thrill she couldn’t deny. She managed a weak, “Please… Edgard…” her voice a plea lost in her arousal. Edgard, noting the slight resistance, pulled his fingers back momentarily, brought one to his mouth, and sucked it clean, wetting it with saliva. He then pressed the moistened finger against her asshole, but found it needed more lubrication. Luz again tried to intervene with one hand, but Edgard swiftly grabbed it, bending her wrist and pressing it against her lower back, murmuring, “Relax, Mrs. López,” his control unyielding. Parting her asscheks with his free hand, a casual spit onto her asshole, he smeared the saliva around with his two fingers, lubricating the area. “Needed a little lubrication,” he murmured softly near her ear. She felt the humiliation reach a new depth—his fingers were roaming around her asshole, now coated with his saliva? As she felt his fingers circling her asshole, she whispered, “Please… Edgard…” then added hesitantly, “I’ve never…” but her words cut off as she felt his index finger slide inside her asshole. The intrusion was sudden, and Edgard commented softly near her ear, “So tight in here, Mrs. López.” Luz’s body tensed, his intimate tone flooding her with shame, her rejection sharp yet wavering as a forbidden thrill stirred. With her hand immobilized under his grip, she yearned to resist, her mind screaming to push him away, but the sensation of Edgard’s finger inside her ass—unfamiliar and intense—unleashed a pleasure she’d never known, pulling her deeper into the forbidden moment. The boy had crossed a totally forbidden barrier, and there was no turning back.

For the first time, she felt the touch of a finger penetrating her asshole, and it was the irreverent 18-year-old boy, an act that should never have happened with him. She spiraled deeper into a cycle of humiliation with no apparent bottom. With her hand still held firmly by Edgard, she weakly tried to stop him, “Edgard, please stop…” she murmured, her voice trembling, but he whispered, lips brushing her ear, “Just relax.” His seductive voice deepened her humiliation, yet her body quivered with arousal, his tone coaxing her surrender despite her mind’s protest.

The moment was so intimate, far beyond a normal massage, resembling something a couple might share, not the 18-year-old friend of her son whom he disliked. Her hand, immobilized by Edgard, symbolized his firm control over the situation, underscoring how utterly submitted she was to him. The overwhelming mix of shame, humiliation, and excitement left her body quivering under the torrent of clashing emotions.

He moved his index finger inside her, the wet lubrication easing the penetration as he explored deeper. This was a place he’d only imagined through her leggings today at midday, and now he had full access, Luz completely surrendered. Edgard was determined to exploit this moment, knowing it might never come again. After a while, he freed luz’s hand while withdrawing his finger from her asshole and moved his face close to her asscheeks. -“I’m going to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time Mrs. Lopez” he said whispering, his voice muffled against her ass cheeks.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin, wondering innocently what he intended.

Before she could react, he grasped her ass with both hands, spreading her asscheeks wide open, exposing her asshole in its fullest splendor. He pressed his face between her ass cheeks, his tongue darting out to trace the rim. First, he lapped at it, sucking and savoring the tight hole, the wet heat of his mouth sending shivers through Luz. Then, he began to push his tongue inside, penetrating her asshole slowly, the intrusion deep and intimate. Luz’s mind reeled, realizing this boy was now the first to penetrate her ass with his tongue, the shock blending into the overwhelming sensation as she tried weakly to shift away, murmuring, “No… Edgard, please…” but her resistance faltered.

In the midst of this, her body and mind played a cruel trick—her hips pressed down, exerting pressure against Edgard’s face, urging his tongue deeper, a moan escaping her lips as she gasped, “Ahh… Edgard…” her voice breaking into a whimper, his name a surrender to the terrible excitement. The intimacy was profound, her son’s friend tasting her asshole in her own patio, a violation intensified by her involuntary response. This was her first anal experience, an uncharted territory of sensation that both shocked and electrified her, and the fact that it was with the 18-year-old friend of her son, Edgard, amplified her turmoil. Her excitement surged, a forbidden heat pooling within her, despite her reluctance, her body responding to the intimate invasion in ways she couldn’t control. The humiliation was suffocating—she hadn’t wanted any of this, yet she couldn’t deny the growing arousal, her asshole yielding to his tongue as her mind recoiled. The mere thought that this nerdy boy, with his audacious demeanor, was eliciting such primal feelings within her was a bitter pill, her maternal guilt clashing with the undeniable pleasure, leaving her trapped in a spiral of shame and ecstasy.

His tongue moved slowly inside her asshole. Luz’s breaths grew ragged, her shame warring with the forbidden pleasure. She felt the intrusion deepen as he pressed his tongue inside the tight ring, tasting her, the act so personal it felt like a violation of her very soul. At times, she pushed back faintly, a feeble attempt to resist, but her hips betrayed her, tilting slightly to allow better access. The excitement was unbearable, and in a moment of weakness, her mind and body conspired against her, a moan escaping as she gasped, “Ahh… Edgard…”, for the second time she was moaning his name.

After a long, torturous stretch, Edgard finally pulled his tongue away, his breath hot against her skin. “Tastes even better than I imagined,” he said softly near her ear, his tone laced with triumph. Luz’s face burned with embarrassment, the comment deepening her humiliation. Affected by the overwhelming excitement, replied shakily, “Oh… Edgard, I can’t…” her voice trembling with arousal and shame. He then put two fingers into her asshole, the wet entrance yielding more easily now, and with his thumb, he began teasing her clit, the contact sending jolts through her. He slipped his thumb inside her pussy, whispering intimately near her ear, “You’re so wet, Mrs. Lopez…” Luz’s moans grew louder, her body arching as the dual stimulation pushed her toward another edge.

As Edgard slid his two fingers deeper into her asshole, he let out a low, satisfied murmur near her ear, “So tight, feels like it’s gripping me Mrs Lopez.” Luz, attempting to respond, opened her mouth to protest, “Edgard, I don’t think I can—” but her words dissolved into a choked gasp, her voice cutting off as the sensation overwhelmed her. She couldn’t believe this 18 year old boy knew exactly how to touch her, his skill leaving her completely surrendered. Her asscheeks quivered under his grip, the wet heat of her asshole accommodating his intrusion, while his thumb explored the slick depths of her vagina, brushing against her inner walls with deliberate intent.

Edgard’s movements grew more confident, his two fingers curling slightly inside her asshole, stretching her further as he pumped them in a steady rhythm. His thumb mirrored the motion in her pussy, the dual penetration igniting a fire that spread from her core. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, whispering, “You’re taking it so well, Mrs. Lopez—let me make it even better.” With his free hand, he reached around, his fingers finding her clit again, rubbing it in tight, circular motions. The triple assault—two fingers in her asshole, his thumb in her pussy, and the direct stimulation on her clit—pushed Luz to the brink, her moans escalating into a series of desperate cries. Her hips bucked involuntarily, pressing against his hands, the cushion beneath her amplifying the angle of exposure, leaving her pussy and asshole fully at his mercy. Suddenly, Timmy’s voice rang out from the pool, “Edgard, come on, we need you!” Edgard smirked, not missing a beat, and called back, “We’re almost done, Timmy, just have a little patience. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Lopez?” Luz’s heart sank as she prepared to respond, her mind reeling with the realization that she was answering her son with Edgard’s two fingers buried in her asshole and his thumb inside her pussy. “Y-yes, Timmy, just… a moment” she stammered, her voice shaky, while inwardly she couldn’t believe the degradation—her son’s voice a stark contrast to the intimate invasion she endured. As she spoke, Edgard seized the moment, sliding a third finger into her asshole, the sudden stretch intensifying her humiliation. She gasped mid-sentence, the added pressure making her body tremble, her surrender now absolute as the nerdy boy pushed her limits further.

She tried to form words, -“Edgard, please… We shouldn’t…” but her voice trailed off into a whimper, her body arching higher as the sensations took over. Edgard chuckled softly in her ear -“No stopping now—you’re too far gone Mrs. Lopez” his tone both taunting and intimate. He increased the pace, his three fingers now thrusting deeper into her asshole, the wet sounds mingling with her moans, while his thumb pressed harder inside her pussy, curling to hit a sensitive spot that made her gasp. His other fingers on her clit moved faster, the friction building a pressure that threatened to shatter her. She couldn’t fathom how this 18-year-old had mastered her body so completely.

Her asscheeks jiggled with each thrust, the sight fueling Edgard’s dominance as he watched her surrender unfold. Luz’s hands clutched the lounger, her knuckles white, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. The triple penetration stretched her in ways she’d never imagined, the fullness in her asshole and pussy blending with the relentless stimulation on her clit. As the pressure built, Edgard leaned close, his voice a humiliating whisper near her ear, “Look at you, I told you I'm good at massages.” Luz, her voice thick with excitement, managed a shaky, “Oh… Edgard, please…” He smirked, adding, “I love when you say my name.” Her response came as a broken moan, “I… can’t believe… this…” her arousal overriding her shame. The tightness coiled deep within, her body trembling as the climax approached. Edgard’s three fingers in her asshole pushed against her inner walls, his thumb deep in her pussy pressing rhythmically, and his fingers on her clit applying just the right pressure.

In that moment, Edgard withdrew his three fingers from her asshole and his thumb from her pussy. Luz, drenched in excitement, felt an aching void where his fingers had been, her body craving their return. He shifted, sliding two fingers into her pussy, the wetness easing their entry, and pressed his thumb into her asshole. With his other hand, he spread her buttocks wide, gaining better access to her exposed pussy and asshole. The change reignited her arousal, and soon he added a third finger to her pussy, stretching her further. Luz’s mind raced, He is acting as if he owns me. Her moans deepened, her hips shifting as Edgard’s fingers moved with authority, his third finger in her pussy exploring her depths while his thumb probed her asshole.

He teased her clit with his free hand, the sensation building rapidly. Luz felt his dominance, his hands molding her without restraint, as if her body were his to claim. Her cries grew urgent, the stretch and rhythm pushing her closer. As her moans escalated, he whispered, lips grazing her ear, “Come for me, Mrs. Lopez, come on my fingers, let it all go.” His seductive command, so close, sent her over. Her pussy gripped his three fingers, a rush of wetness escaping, while her asshole pulsed around his thumb. With a final, raw moan, “Ahh… Edgard!” she peaked, stunned that this boy, the one her son had warned her about, had driven her to this, naked, fingered, cumming to his voice, moaning his name. She felt utterly defeated, knowing this was a victory for Edgard, a trophy and a memory of her body’s surrender he’d carry forever.

Edgard kept his fingers inside, savoring her quivers, then slowly withdrew them. Luz turned to see him lift his wet hand, inhaling its scent before sucking his fingers, a satisfied, “Delicious,” escaping him. “Now it’s time to clean up this mess,” he declared, one hand clamping down hard on an asscheek, squeezing with possessive force. His other hand joined, spreading her ass wide, and he lowered his face. His tongue now at her pussy, tasting the lingering juices, then moved to her asshole, probing with slow, deliberate licks. The act dragged on, his mouth meticulously cleaning every trace, and Luz’s mind drowned in torment. Shame seared through her, the sting of betrayal overwhelming—this should never have happened, yet it was the most intense orgasm she had ever known. Edgard had claimed her body, doing as he pleased despite her pleas, and she was undone by her own pleasure. Her heightened sensitivity prolonged the exposure, the humiliation peaking as his tongue lingered.

Finally, Edgard pulled back, leaving a soft kiss on her pussy, then another on her asshole, gazing at the vision before him—Luz’s naked body, her asscheeks still parted, her pussy and asshole glistening from his attention. Knowing this might be the last time such a situation arose, he drank in the sight, a triumphant glint in his eyes. He reached out, squeezing one buttock firmly. He grabbed the towel, running it slowly over her asshole, the fabric absorbing the moisture with a rough caress against her tender skin. He moved to her pussy, dabbing at the wetness, the towel soaking up her arousal as he traced her folds with care. His hands then dried her buttocks, the texture contrasting her flushed skin. Luz’s thoughts darkened—He’s seen, touched, fingered, and now tasted every forbidden part her, and she let it happen, cumming for him while Timmy played nearby. He picked up her bikini bottom, he slid it up her legs, adjusting it over her pussy and asshole with a firm tug, the fabric snapping into place, tying the laces. He reached for the top, tying it around her chest and neck, his fingers brushing her breasts as he secured the knots, leaving her partially covered yet marked by his dominance.

Luz adjusted the straps of her bikini top, her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed the fabric over her still-flushed skin. The towel draped around her shoulders felt like a flimsy shield against the weight of what had just transpired. She was dressed again, but the memory of Edgard’s hands—his fingers, his tongue—lingered like a brand on her body. Across the patio, Edgard sauntered back toward the pool, water dripping from his lean frame as he rejoined Timmy, Lucas, and Mathias. He flashed a sly, ironic grin at Timmy, who glared at him, fists clenched from the long delay. “Took my time perfecting my technique, Timmy—hope you don’t mind the extra effort,” Edgard quipped, his voice laced with a double entendre that hung heavy in the air. Lucas and Mathias snickered, their eyes glinting with a knowing complicity, as if they’d pieced together more than they should from Edgard’s absence.

The boys resumed their game, splashing and tossing the ball, their laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Luz. She forced a smile, settling onto a chair near the lounger, determined to reclaim some semblance of normalcy. Her heart pounded as she sipped from a glass of water, the cool liquid doing little to quench the heat of her shame. As she tried to steady herself, her eyes darted nervously—toward the neighbors’ windows, Weaver’s house across the street, the street itself visible through the fence—searching for any sign that someone might have witnessed her ordeal with Edgard. Seeing no movement, no curious faces, she exhaled a shaky breath, clinging to the hope that, by some miracle, no one had seen. Maybe the worst is over, she thought, though the relief was tenuous. “I have to act like nothing happened”, she told herself, her gaze flickering toward the pool. “But what if Edgard talks? What if he brags about what he did—how he subdued me, touched every forbidden inch of me?”. None of this would have happened if the blackmailer hadn’t forced her into these humiliating scenarios—never would an 18-year-old, let alone Edgard, have had the chance to overpower her like this. The idea that her body, her most private surrender, could become locker-room fodder gnawed at her, a betrayal she couldn’t undo. This domination of Timmy’s mother was a triumph born solely from coercion, a power Edgard wielded only because of the unseen manipulator’s threats. And she knew, with a sinking feeling, that before he and the boys left, she’d have to corner Edgard alone, plead with him to keep this discreet.

She watched Timmy dive into the water, his movements sharp with frustration, and wondered if he sensed the shift in the air. Lucas and Mathias exchanged glances, their laughter tinged with something darker, and Luz’s stomach churned. “Did they hear my moans? Did they guess what happened behind the moved lounger?”. She crossed her legs tightly, the bikini bottom a mocking reminder of how it had been stripped away, and forced herself to hum a tune, a desperate attempt to drown out the echo of Edgard’s voice.

Unexpectedly, a shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Edgard standing at the pool’s edge, towel in hand, his smirk widening as he caught her eye. “Need a refill, Mrs. Lopez?” he asked, holding out a pitcher of lemonade, his tone deceptively casual, a cynical mask over their shared secret. Before she could respond, he stepped back with a nod, rejoining the game without further provocation. Luz’s breath caught, the gesture a subtle taunt, but she murmured, “No, thank you,” her voice barely audible, grateful he hadn’t pushed further—for now.

The afternoon wore on, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows across the patio. Luz tried to focus on a magazine, her eyes skimming pages she couldn’t absorb. Her mind replayed the scene—Edgard’s fingers, his tongue, the way he’d claimed her body without hesitation. “He could ruin me with a single word”, she thought, glancing at the boys. Timmy would never forgive me, and the neighbors… what if they saw? The fear gnawed deeper, but so did an unsettling thrill, the memory of her climax with his name on her lips a secret she couldn’t erase. None of this would have occurred without the blackmailer’s grip, she reminded herself, the thought a bitter anchor. Then, her phone buzzed on the table, a new message lighting the screen. She opened it with trembling fingers, the blackmailer’s distorted text reading, “Well done, Luz. Impressive show. No tasks for the rest of the day—rest well”. The words were a twisted accolade, reinforcing the puppet strings that had enabled Edgard’s dominance, and Luz felt a fleeting relief at the reprieve, though the weight of her self-imposed duty to confront Edgard loomed larger.

Continues on Chapter 2 C...

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