Pressure Mrs. Crawford, Ignore Mrs. Walker

You ignore the phone vibrating in your pocket. You’re not interested in pursuing that woman. Anybody that forward with you has got to be trying to use you. Far better to deal with the woman that you’ve got actual leverage over.

“Why don’t you come sit in my room and we can chat about the issue,” you tell Mrs. Crawford, opening up the door. “It’s awfully rude of me to leave you hanging outside.”

“No, don’t worry about it, I’m happy to stand out here if it’s just going to be a quick chat,” she says.

“I insist,” you say. “After all, it’s the least I could do after you gave me this.”

You give the basket full of fried fish a heft, and beckon Lucille’s mom in. She’s left with **** but to follow you. The door slams shut with an ominous thud. You take the sole chair in the room, leaving her nowhere good to sit. She chooses to sit on the bed.

“So. A mutually agreeable compromise. Something that can right this grave wrong. What did you have in mind?”

Mrs. Crawford shifts nervously on the bed, trying to read the mysterious smile on your face.

“I… I could bring you more food,” she says. “We make it fresh, it’s delicious, and…”

“And it poisoned me the last time I had it,” you say, giving the basket a light kick. “I’m afraid that won’t do.”

“So you want money then,” she says flatly. “Fine. Let’s talk numbers. What do you want?”

You leer at her. This woman really has a magnificent body. A great rack, a fine ass, and man, with the way that she’s sitting on your bed, her dress hiking up just so, you get a tantalizing view of her creamy thighs and her white panties. You wonder if she can tell that you’re ogling her, or if she thinks that you’re just thinking.

“We were going to ask for something in the mid-six figures in court. I’d take that. You’d save on the lawyer fees,” you say, leaning back in your chair.

Your words have their intended effect. Her eyes go wide as dish plates, and she shakes her head a moment later.

“That would bankrupt us,” she says. “You can’t be serious. If that’s what you want, then I’d rather risk it in court. It’s the same outcome either way.”

“A pity, because I’m not negotiating on this,” you say. “I’ll see you in court, then.”

“No, come on Alex, I mean, Mr. Knight, there must be something we can do,” the MILF desperately says. “We… oh, I don’t know, we’ve got a guest room at our place that’s much nicer than this shabby dorm room, you could stay there for your college years, that’s got to be better… think of the privacy. And home cooked meals!”

“And you’ll do my laundry, too?” you ask.

“Yes! That! Plus, you could… oh, throw parties or something, so long as you don’t intrude on my room or Lucille’s. You could keep as much booze as you want, I’m sure they have rules about that here…”

You smile. The woman’s offer is actually halfway persuasive, which surprises you.

“I’ve already paid room and board for the semester,” you say, gesturing at the bed that she sits on. “But your offer is tempting. I may take it up in the winter.”

“So it’s settled then?” she asks, looking relieved.

“No. I want something from you now. An assurance.”

“I give you my word,” she says. “You’ll be able to move in starting next semester. We’ll welcome you into the house, really make you feel like you’re at home…”

“That’s not good enough,” you say. “Your word is only that. I want something concrete from you. Right now. What do you have on you?”

“I… what? I don’t think I have anything that you want…”

She follows your eyes, down to those sheer white panties of hers. You see her eyes widen again. She pulls down her dress, closing her legs, denying you that precious view.

“No, no that,” she says, her voice trembling.

“It’s what I want,” you say, shrugging.

“I can’t,” she says, heat rising to her face. “I can’t… spare it.”

“It’s just an article of clothing,” you say. “You’ve got plenty of them, don’t you?”

“I do,” she says quietly.

“So what’s the hold up?”

She looks up at you, staring into your eyes. Ever so reluctantly, she gets up from your bed. You see her hands disappear up her dress, and then she bends down low, carefully, pulling down her panties in such a way that denies you the view of anything more. She holds them out for you.

“This is what you want?” she asks, her face burning red in shame.

“I only wanted a token of your… commitment,” you nod, smiling as you accept the white silk.

You toss it aside on your desk, as if it were just a random knick-knack.

“That’ll be all,” you say.

“So the matter is settled?” she says, looking like she’s breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s it?”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh, hell no. That was just an assurance for my housing next year. The court case? We’ll have to talk again some other day about that.”

With that, you stride to the door, opening it up for her again.

“You… you’re a sick bastard, you know that?”

She gives you a glare, but you sense an undercurrent of desire there, raw and unfiltered. You see it in the way that her fingers are moist from the contact with her panties. You can feel it crackle in the air.

“Until next time then,” you smile, placing a hand on the small of her back as you guide her out the door.

You see her gulp, ever so slightly, as Mrs. Crawford walks down the hallway, carrying herself high, pulling her dress down low.

Crawford +20
Walker -20