Peter Jensen

The blackmailed wife

CHAPTER ONE

The brilliant California morning sun streamed in through the large open window. A slight, cooling breeze was blowing outside, rustling the rose bush that sprouted up over the hill. Its leaves cast small, dancing shadows against the far wall of the room.

Ann Morrow turned on the bed, squinting and shielding her eyes from the brightness that played over her face. Her long, satiny blonde hair cascaded over the pillow, forming a soft cushion for her head that lay heavily back against it. A thin sheet shielded her body from the breeze that blew gently in from the open window.

She had the body of a lush young Venus which an invisible observer hovering over the bed, could have traced in detail through the clinging sheet. It barely hid the high-set, round, widely spaced breasts whose rose-tipped nipples clearly showed through the thin fabric. The sheet tapered down over a slender, girlish waist to round, luscious hips, a flat, smooth stomach and long full-swelling thighs; breath-taking curved calves tapered down to thin, well formed ankles. It was a body that would attract admiring attention from the most discriminating men – and envy from women.

The honey-blonde hair on the pillow framed a heart-shaped face that would cause any male to turn his head when she passed. Her hazel eyes were set slightly apart, she had a dainty, almost classical Greek nose, a full ripe mouth with the lower lip protruding slightly in an almost perpetual little-girl pout, a round dimpled chin, and a soft slightly tanned ivory complexion.

But her eyes were perceptibly puffed around the lids and tiny lines had begun to thread out from the outer corners reaching toward the temples. The thick, pancake makeup, to cover these tell-tale signs of premature wear, was smeared and had rubbed off on the pillow during the night. Her hazel eyes blinked painfully at the sunlight. She had a bad hangover.

A bell was ringing in the distance, reverberating down the hallway from the living room. It had awakened her, but in her heavy stupor, it seemed to be a great distance away and not part of reality at all. Suddenly she realized it was the doorbell and after several moments of waiting and hoping whoever it was would go away, she resignedly arose, threw on a robe carelessly, forgetting to tie the belt, and walked down the hallway to open the door.

"Express telegram for you, Mrs. Morrow," a smiling Western Union boy said, with a slight smirk at her condition.

His eyes blatantly traced the contour of her throat down to the cleavage between her full breasts under the thin negligee.

Ann drew her robe around her tighter, grabbed the envelope, and closed the door abruptly without a word or even tipping the boy. But the bell immediately began to ring again.

Oh, damn, she thought, I forgot to sign for it! She opened the door again and the boy arrogantly pushed his book at her. He held out his pencil and when Ann reached for it, flicked it slightly with his thumb so that it flipped down the front of her robe and lodged between her breasts.

"Get it for ya, Mrs. Morrow," he said cockily.

"You get out of her, you little beast!" she scolded, "Or I'm going to report you to your company!" She slammed the door shut, not bothering to return the pencil, which had fallen to the floor.

Ann slumped down on the couch and held her head in her hands. My God, she thought, have I gone so far down that a delivery boy doesn't even respect me in my own home? Recently the remarks and looks she got were not just innocent flirtations, they were outright lewd offers to go to bed. She had been almost manhandled in the street several times in the last week. Had she really come to look that easy? Too much was being demanded of her and she had vowed she was going to see Julia and put a stop to it.

She suddenly remembered the cable she had wadded up in her hand. She opened it and read it slowly.

War's over for me darling I'll be home in ten days – can't wait to get at my neglected wife!

Love, Dave

Ann's eyes were welling with tears. This was what she had been waiting and praying for, so long. He had been gone over a year now, flying in Vietnam and each day had been a new dread that she would receive notice from the Department of the Navy that he was a casualty. She had not even been able to read the newspapers because there was always news about the number of planes shot down.

"Oh, thank God, he's safe and coming home!" she kept mumbling over and over to herself between sobs, "Thank God!"

This would end all of her problems. She would be free of Julia and could become her old self again. She knew she could never recover the self-respect she had lost but she would be a good wife to Dave and they could have their children now as they had planned before he left. She would try so hard, she would love him almost to death. He would like that – he wrote about it all the time in his letter what their life would be like when his tour of duty was over and he was out of the Navy. Now it was all coming true, Julia had promised to return those awful pictures of her as soon as she knew Dave was coming home. This would release her hold on her and she would be free.

She felt like calling Julia right this minute and telling her but it was only nine o'clock in the morning and she knew Julia would be angry with her for waking her. Ann hummed all the way through her shower, and stood nude in front of the mirror to admire her voluptuous body. She placed her palms under her full, well rounded breasts and lifted them slightly until they stood out in full bloom. She held the nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them gently into erection. It was exciting to know that soon Dave would possess these again and that his love would wash from her the degradations she had been forced to submit to in the last few months. The very thought of Dave's love excited her and her hands moved down from her breasts to her smooth stomach, through the soft golden down at the vee and across her full, well rounded thighs.

She felt like a kitten, rubbing herself this way and she could notice in the mirror that some color had returned to her cheeks already. She knew it would be good for her to get Dave back. If just the thought of him coming home did this to her, his real arrival should be absolute heaven.

She shuddered from the movements of her hands across her body and forced herself suddenly to stop the warm stroking. I must save all my feelings for Dave now, she thought happily to herself.

She toweled herself dry and went to the closet to choose her dress for the day. After rummaging through several, she chose one of the new orange color. It was the latest mini-thing and she had just bought it only a few days before. It made no pretense of hiding her charms and she almost thought it too daring, but she remembered that Dave had always told her not to be ashamed of the gifts that God had given her.

"Just don't show too much of it to these lechers around here while I'm gone," he had added jokingly, "they'll eat you alive in this Navy town."

She had intended to save it for his first day home but felt so gay today that she convinced herself it needed breaking in. She left off most of the make-up she had been resorting to lately to hide the results of her late evening dissipations with Julia and her crowd. It seemed that just the news of Dave's coming had taken away the puffiness from her eyes, her facial lines had softened – and her youthful freshness had returned.

Later, on her way to the market, she noticed the looks she was getting. They had changed to reverent admiration. She could always tell when a man felt something was unattainable. The spring in her walk helped, they knew when a woman was confident of herself, and they could tell when she belonged to someone else.

"Good morning, Mrs. Morrow," Pete, the grocer said beaming. "My, don't we look pretty and fresh today."

"Thank you Pete," Ann blushed slightly. It had been a long time since he had complimented her.

"It's a mighty fine day," he said, "and maybe a little tiny bit of special too," he added with a twinkle. "Seems I detect a little rainbow curving over your head."

"Seems you're right, Pete," she answered. "You seem to read me, pardon the old expression, like a book. Are you psychic by any chance?"

"Naw, nuthin' like that, Mrs. Morrow, just been in this Navy town a long time and can spot your disease a mile away. A look like that can only mean two things, either HCH or PFT."

"HCH or PFT! What on earth can those be?" Ann laughed.

"Hubby comin' home, or pregnant first time," Pete quipped philosophically, "and I know yours can't be PFT, Dave's been away too long."

"Why you're marvelous, Pete!" Ann clapped her hands together in surprised amusement. "I just received his cable this morning. He'll be here in ten more days. I just can't believe it," she said excitedly, glad to have someone else share in her happiness.

"I'm glad Mrs. Morrow! He's a mighty fine boy! I don't think I've ever seen two people so happy together as you two were before he left. My wife used to say she had never seen two people so made for each other. She'll be happy to hear he's made it through. I sometimes think she worries as much as the wives do."

***

"What's all this laughin' I hear out here?" A small, round-faced Irish woman of about fifty-five was coming out of the back of the store.

"Hello, Mrs. Leary," Ann said shyly. She had been trying to avoid Mrs. Leary who could sometimes be too blunt. Ann could sense she knew something was wrong.

"Well, hello, Ann," Mrs. Leary said. "We haven't seen you for awhile. Where have you been, child?"

"Well," Ann stuttered, not knowing really what excuse to use, "I-I haven't been feeling too well."

"Poppycock," the old woman snorted, "you've been drinking too much of that rotten whiskey. That's what's wrong. I've seen it happen a thousand times in this town. Husband goes away to sea and the wife gets to frettin' about his not coming home and the next thing you know – she's on the bottle. Happens to all the women."

"Now, Mary, you just stop that," Pete cut in. "Let the poor girl alone!"

"You don't tell me to shut up, Peter Leary," the old woman snapped at him. "I ain't sayin' anything Ann don't know – she's like a daughter to me they all are here – besides, I heard you say Dave was comin' home – she'll be alright now."

Mrs. Leary came over and put her arm warmly around Ann, who seemed on the verge of tears.

"Don't you take what I'm sayin' to heart, child. It's just the truth and what I mean is, don't feel bad about it now. It happens to all of us – Lord, I know! – Pete was in the Navy for thirty years before we opened this store. He would have stayed in forty if I hadn't made him leave. I was downright alcoholic when he was away but when he came home, everything was fine. It's those that don't snap out of it and feel guilty when their man comes home that I worry about. The way you look today tells me you'll make it. Don't be ashamed of a few drinks you had when he was gone, honey, that's what it takes sometimes to keep a woman whose worryin' about her man from becoming a bloomin' maniac."

"Thank you, Mrs. Leary," was all Ann could say. "I guess you know what I've been through."

"Of course I do, honey!" the old woman said softly. "When your man gets home just act like nothing happened and take up just where you left off."

Ann pondered these thoughts on the way home and decided Mrs. Leary was right. Ann hadn't changed in her love for Dave and she was still the same person but it wasn't as simple as Mr. Leary thought – not just a case of giving up drinking. It was breaking with Julia and her crowd. She would call as soon as she got home and tell her about Dave's coming home and make her keep her promise to give Ann those pictures to destroy.

It had all seemed so simple this morning. Julia had promised faithfully she would give Ann the pictures if Ann helped her while Dave was gone. But, then, Julia had promised before, and had always had some excuse to delay it. But this time she simply had to give them back. Ann vowed she would make her live up to her promise this time – she had to… she just had to…

CHAPTER TWO

Ann listened dejectedly to the ringing on the other end of the line. It had been ringing for about ten minutes this time. It was the fifth time she had tried to call since arriving home four or five hours ago. It was nearly dark outside and Julia still didn't answer. The longer she waited, the more worried Ann became.

She went to the kitchen cabinet and reluctantly got down a three-quarter full bottle of Scotch. She had promised herself this morning that there would be no more of this – but she was so nervous now from the waiting that she just had to have something to soothe her frayed nerves. She poured half a glass, put the bottle back up in the shelf and returned to the living room.

Though it was now dark outside, she didn't bother to turn on the light. The streetlight in front of the house gave her enough light to move around in without falling over the furniture. Somehow, she didn't feel like facing the brightness just this moment. She had to come to an understanding with Julia on the phone before she wanted to see anything again. She picked up the phone by the couch and dialed again – she had done this so often, she could do it in the dark without a mistake. She let it ring for what seemed an almost eternity – no answer.

Damn it, she muttered under her breath as she took a long drink from the straight Scotch in her glass and felt the soothing warm liquid hit bottom. She had eaten nothing all day and the impact was immediate.

The warmth crept through her body, causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple across her skin – she raised the glass again and finished it. It felt good – she could see the smoke in the dim light from her cigarette curling slowly up to the ceiling – it was funny to watch – almost seemed to have a purpose – it knew where it was going for a moment – up – and then it seemed to waver and diffuse into funny little wisps in all directions – finally disappearing into nothingness. She giggled from the alcohol. I might just disappear into nothingness, she thought.

She returned to the kitchen and filled her glass again. And after reaching up to put the bottle back she changed her mind, carried it with her back to the living room and placed it on the coffee table in front of her.

She started to call Julia again but decided against it for awhile. It had only been a few minutes since the last attempt. She drained another glass of Scotch instead and then leaned back on the couch, lighting another cigarette. The alcohol had a soothing effect on her.

It was rather warm and she opened the housecoat she was wearing to expose her body to the slight breeze that came in through the open window. She could see its contours stretching down in front of her. It was beautiful, she had to admit. The rounded peaks of her firm breasts stood up defiantly and she could look through the canyon between them down to the soft golden triangle that proved she was really a natural blonde. She was proud of it – and yet, she mused, it was the reason for all of her troubles now. If she had just been a plain-Jane none of the sordid things that had been forced on her in the last few months would ever have occurred. On the other hand, she probably would never have gotten Dave either – if she hadn't been beautiful she thought as she took another drink of the stinging liquor.

She wondered if there couldn't be a middle-ground somewhere – something in between – that must be where real happiness lies.

So many of her almost, but not quite plain, girl friends from school were settled down and happily married with children. They would never be bothered by the curse of being wanted just for their striking beauty, they had to give something else to attract – something that came from within them. How she wished that had been true for her – but it would be now, she vowed. The hazy effect the liquor was producing seemed to simplify things. She pondered the plus points of having a beauty like this…

***

She had been elected campus queen of her high school when she was eighteen. Of course, she had been chased by all the young cocky males in her class but they had all seemed so immature and had not really appealed to her. Nevertheless, she had gone out with several of them and had engaged in the usual back seat petting with some who appealed to her a little more than the others.

She had even on occasions let them brush their hands over her full ripe breasts, but despite their pleadings she had never let it go farther. It had aroused her somewhat, she admitted to herself, but she had always overcome this by strict concentration on the moral values her mother had drilled into her.

Her mother was extremely religious and had made Ann attend church with her without fail each Sunday when most of her other friends had been running off to the beach on picnics. Her mother also gave persistent warnings on the evils of petting and had instilled into her the idea that a girl should at all costs save herself for her wedding night. Ann had accepted this and deported herself accordingly.

She had met Dave at the Rose Bowl ceremonies in Pasadena. He had been a junior at UCLA and in charge of arranging the float processions for the Rose Parade. As delegate of her school, she was to be assigned to one of them. He had given her one of the best positions on the most beautiful float in the procession. He had called her several weeks later for a date and they had gone to his annual fraternity dance at the University. She had caused quite a stir among his fraternity brothers and more than one had tried to get her off into the corner and get her phone number or a quick kiss. She had detected also the envious looks she had received from the other girls.

Dave had been considered to be one of the best catches on campus. He was tall and handsome and very wealthy. His grandfather had left him a trust estate of several million dollars which he would get on his thirtieth birthday. He had done this, according to the will, in order that his grandson would learn to support himself before being spoiled by the money. He was a wise old man and Dave had admired him very much. Ann had learned all of this long after she had fallen in love with Dave so it had not even been a factor in their relationship.

She had never gone all the way with him during their courtship, but several times it had been close. On more than one occasion, it had been all she could do to hold herself back.

Often, in compromise, she had let him reach under her sweater, unfasten her bra, and massage her exposed breasts while they were petting in the back seat of his car. Once they had gone to one of the fraternity dances and she drank too much. Afterwards, when they were parked at the beach and he had massaged her breasts into maddening hardness with his fingers, he had taken one of the nipples in his mouth. The gentle playing of his tongue around it had driven her to near madness and she had hardly noticed when his hand had slipped under her skirt and begun caressing be tween her creamy white thighs.

"No Dave, no!" she had gasped, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back this time.

But his hands had kept on stroking her, roving the full length of her body, over her flat white stomach and on down to the nylon covered softness of her pubic hair. He stroked her there slowly, insinuating his middle finger under her soft nylon panties into the moist virginal split of her vagina. It started a tingling sensation that she had never known before and she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his hand. Their heavy breathing in the car fogged the windows.

"Dave, not now, darling, not now," she had gasped into his ear.

He had paid no attention to her and she had heard the metallic sound of his zipper opening – and suddenly – a blunt fleshy pressure against the top of her thigh. It was his prick! She had never felt one before and the muscles of her body contracted involuntarily at the strange touch.

She had been ready to pull away when suddenly his finger between her legs had probed into her wet vagina. It had sent an electric shock of rippling pleasure up through her that froze her to the seat. She could not move for the moment as the pleasure raced around inside her and he had taken this to mean she had succumbed.

He moved her hand over his cock and with his own fingers wrapped hers around it. She clenched them tight, hearing his answering groan of pleasure through her own gasping breath. She had never expected it would be so enormous. It seemed her fingers could barely go around it. Without thinking, she began to massage the thick outer skin back and forth up and down the hard shaft. Nothing else in the world had ever felt so good or so complete. He was digging his single finger deep into her cunt that was wet from the juices excitedly seeping from its lips. It was stretching the tiny ring of her still intact hymen and she was afraid it would split and end her virginity on the spot but there was nothing she could do about it. The thrills he was giving her were racing too wildly through her to resist and she relaxed her inner thighs to give him greater access to her and at the same time increased the speed of her own strokings. With each gentle push she could feel Dave's prick jerking into greater hardness though a moment ago she would hot have dreamed that possible.

He had suddenly tried to roll over on top of her and, at the last minute she had clamped her thighs tightly together, trapping is rockhard penis between them. Dave had struggled like a madman to lift it up and get the tip into the opening of her wet, throbbing vagina but she knew she must wait even though she wanted it as badly as he did. She struggled with all her strength against him and inadvertently her grip tightened around his straining cock. Just as he had forced the head under the legband of her panties, and the throbbing nose was poised between the splayed open lips of her cunt, she felt it begin to jerk out of control. Dave gasped and she felt a hot, thick stream of liquid spurt from it, until her pubic hair was drenched with the warm, sticky sperm. It covered the insides of her thighs wetly and dripped down between her legs to moisten the car seat beneath her buttocks.

Dave emitted a final groan and collapsed over her body. He was mumbling abject apologies into her ear for his failure, seemingly unaware that she had resisted. He must have thought he had let her down. She stroked the back of his neck tenderly, consoling him with soft whispers of love while he continued gasping for several long minutes. Finally, he had sat up on the seat, helping her to rise beside him. He had held her hand silently for a few moments and then fixed his clothes, acting sheepish.

She had scolded him afterwards when she was smoothing down her skirt and had made him promise never to do that again – she reminded him that she was just flesh and blood also and that it was just as much his responsibility as hers to not let themselves go too far before they were married. He had apologized and had never made any real attempt on her virginity after that.

Upon graduation from UCLA, he had gone to Pensacola to take his flight training and afterwards, they were married. It had been a wonderful wedding night and she felt a complete woman to be able to give herself freely to him. He had been an accomplished lover and Ann had suspected that he had not come to their marital bed as pure as she, but it didn't really matter as long as he was faithful after they were married. Besides, it was a man's place to teach the woman in the arts of love and how else could he learn? She had heard the boys laughing sometimes together in the fraternity house about their trips over the border to Tijuana on holidays and suspected that this was where they were all gaining their experience.

They had moved to San Diego to set up house-keeping after Dave had received his orders stationing him there and had joined the social life with all the other officers and wives. The Friday night dances at the Officer's Club was about the extent of their going out other than bridge games at friends' houses and they settled down into the routine of married life. It had been wonderful and Ann had never been happier any time in her life.

Dave had proven to be the perfect husband in almost everyway. There were rumors about most of the other couples on the base but Ann and Dave had been able to stay aloof from this. It would have been difficult to even fabricate gossip about these two devoted young lovers. Ann remembered Mrs. Leary saying once they certainly typified her vision of what the Adam and Eve relationship must have been. That was before the serpent entered the garden, Ann thought, bitterly, and sipped more of her glass of Scotch.

***