LLP-218 Book One The Blackmailed Mother by Peter Jensen


Chapter 1


A light drizzle and a leaded sky with scudding clouds greeted Lonnie 
Cannel when she awoke in the half light of the early morning. She had 
left the bedroom window open slightly, and the cool air which blew 
through the crack rustled the flowers on the nightstand and rippled 
across the thin sheet which covered her. She stirred; frowning at first 
as she unconsciously tried to cover herself with more, then became 
fully awake and saw that the blanket was knotted at the foot of the 
bed.

Damnation, she thought, sitting up abruptly to grab the blanket. 
Another night of tossing and turning. She hated to sleep alone, and 
that was the problem. Her husband, Roger, was gone on another trip. 
Business, always business, him and his new job at Skopos, Incorporated. 
He never had time to be a husband to her any more, and she ... well, 
she was little more than a pretty doll for him to use when he was 
around. She wasn't a wife, she was just someone -- almost like a whore 
-- for him to have sex with, always available.

Piqued, she stopped unfolding the blanket. Sleep was gone now, 
impossible in spite of the early hour of the morning. She stretched 
languidly on the bed, releasing the last of her stupor.

Lonnie Cannel was a wife any man would be proud to have. Her husband 
called her a "sex machine that can cook," and said it with a grin. Her 
long, raven-black hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she 
stretched, curled around her full breasts and made a contrast to her 
blush-red nipples and aureole. Her breasts were still firm and taut, 
even though she was the mother of a fifteen-year-old daughter, and she 
was increasingly glad that she had followed her doctor's regimen when 
Jennifer was born. The exercises she'd done faithfully had prevented 
the slightest trace of stretch marks from the birth, and she could walk 
around in a bikini and still look like she was Jennifer's older sister 
and not her mother.

The sheet had slid down to her girlish waist and her round, tapered 
thighs. She kicked the sheet aside with her long, slim legs and stood 
up, flouncing her hair and yawning. She was naked, as she always slept; 
naked and desirable. Her face went well with her body, a sort of pouty, 
sensual, flirtatious look about it with its small nose and full ripe 
mouth and large hazel eyes. There was nothing aloof about her; it was 
pure animal, pure female.

Lonnie giggled to herself as she crossed to the window and shut it. A 
little shiver of delight passed through her stomach as she recalled the 
number of men who stared at her, their eyes and the bulge in their 
loins hard and wanting. And of their propositions even though most of 
them knew that she was married -- not that she had ever been 
unfaithful. Of course, a little coy flirting never hurt anybody, and it 
made her feel so good. She'd never let the game get out of hand, and 
she didn't intend to, but it was nice to know that a woman of her years 
could still attract, still arouse men on a basic, primitive level.


End of Page 1. See llp-218.txt for full story.