BSS-641 A Mother-Daughter Twosome by Peter Jensen


Chapter 1


"Ann Walker trudged wearily from the front office of the Bay 
Construction Company, and turned down Market Street to begin the four 
block walk to her car. San Francisco screamed around her in the throes 
of its rush-hour convulsions, spewing people and cars and dirt and 
noise out of its belly in frenzied, hysterical haste. The sky was low 
with the smog that had settled in from the bay, and a half-ridden sun 
broiled the sweating city mercilessly. It was hot, noisy, cramped and 
stinking. It was Progress.

"Hey, get the hell out of the way!"

Ann Walker jerked her head up, and stepped quickly back up onto the 
curb. An irate cab driver squealed around her, blasting his horn at the 
same time, and staring at her as though she'd insulted him personally 
by having delayed him the two-and-a-half seconds she'd been standing in 
the gutter. Ann glared back at him, angered by his anger, feeling the 
tension of the day suddenly wash over her. Then she was pushed off the 
curb by the mass of humanity pressed up behind her' as the traffic 
light turned green and the mindless herd began to swarm across the 
intersection. She stumbled, caught herself, and hurried ahead to keep 
up with the flow. She finally reached the parking lot that held her 
car, and waited while the attendant tried courageously to find her 
small Ford Falcon in the endless sea of parked automobiles. She slumped 
down onto a bench, and tried to close her mind to the maddening frenzy 
that possesses a city between 4:30 and 6:00.

Ann was 36 years old, and had lived in San Francisco for the last two 
years. But she could never adjust herself to the city's rush, the 
tension, the nerve-wracking tempo that others seemed to take for 
granted. She was a beautiful woman, with dark brown hair which lay in 
soft curls on her shoulders, and an almost naive face, which was 
betrayed only by a pair of intense, almost smoldering eyes. She 
affected a somewhat cool manner, and often gave others the impression 
of aloofness, and perhaps even conceit; but this was only a defense, a 
rein that held her frustrations in check. It was only in her eyes that 
one could perceive the fire that burned inside her, could even guess at 
the wild animal that lay imperfectly concealed behind that cool 
exterior. It was this combination of aloofness and yet the hint of some 
insatiable desire that served to make her irresistibly magnetic to men, 
who flocked to her like flies to honey. And the more they flocked, the 
more aloof she became, her defenses barely able to hold in check the 
intensity of her inner passions.

Ann's car finally came sputtering out of the parking lot, adding more 
than its share to the poison in the air around her. She quickly paid 
the attendant, and slid her slender body behind the wheel. She eased 
out of the parking lot's driveway, and began to make her slow, 
agonizing way out of the city. This was the part of the day she hated 
most. Even the morning rush hour was not this bad, because then she was 
fresh, still untouched by the day's trials and tribulations. But now, 
after a day's frustrating monotony ...


End of Page 1. See bss-641.txt for full story.