William Davis - Blackmailed

There was no doubt in his own mind about his courage… or lack of it. It just wasn't wise to match his fists against a bunch of gun-carrying hoods. If I ever get the chance, though… However, it was unlikely that he'd ever get a chance at one of them, alone; they always came in pairs.

And, of course, he hadn't told Joan, for very obvious reasons. Damn… when they get to her… finally… there's going to be all hell to pay!

p(line).***

Joan went apartment hunting. She found exactly what she wanted… in Corona del Mar!

Arnie was appalled when she told him… on two counts: the location! Christ! Carla Reynolds lives down there… somewhere! He tried to fix the location in his mind but drew a blank. Secondly: the price he was going to have to pay for a fully furnished apartment made him flinch… but he wasn't going to object. It would end up in an argument, so he just bit his tongue and said, "Okay, darling… if that's what you really want… we'll rent it and move into it…"

"It's a lovely place!" Joan gushed. "… And it's in a perfect location… with a view of the ocean."

They moved in the next day.

p(line).***

"I've just come to California…" Joan confessed to the auburn-haired woman who sat across from her.

They were in a plush cocktail lounge, drinking a leisurely martini… at Carla's invitation. Carla had spotted Joan Pearson that afternoon in her favorite hairdresser's salon.

Like many prostitutes, Carla didn't really like men. She tolerated them… but she really got her best kicks with women. Actually, she swung both ways, almost equally. Men provided her with the necessities… and many of the luxuries of life… but with another beautiful woman…

She had found it easy to strike up a conversation with the black-haired beauty who was obviously a stranger. Joan was appreciative of her easy, friendly ways, the sparkling conversation… the invitation to an afternoon cocktail… and so, there they were. Carla seemed to have a sixth sense about things like this. She knew it would be easy to get her new friend up to her apartment. After that… well… Carla knew what to do… It would be a nice afternoon interlude before the evening's work.

"I just know you'll love it, here!" Carla told her, her grey-green eyes smoldering over the rim of her glass.

Joan felt a little uneasy, but she decided that it was just friendliness… and the alcohol that caused Carla's eyes to do those things.

And, later… after the second round of drinks… when Carla made the pitch to her… about coming over to her apartment, to relax… listen to some wild records… and get to know each other better… Joan had some second thoughts. She really should be home when Arnie got back; he'd had to go into L.A. for some kind of conference.

"You can leave… any time you want to… but I think it'd be groovy… you know…" Carla smiled, mysteriously.

In the back of her mind, Joan knew that she was being picked up… yet there was something perverse in her that told her to go along with the act… experience something new! It was her headstrong stubbornness getting in the way of rational thought. If I don't like the way things are going… after we get to her apartment… I'll just walk out…! After all… she couldn't force me to do… something I didn't want to do!

And there was her curiosity. She'd heard of women who loved other women… but except for a passing attraction another girl had for her… when she was in high school, Joan had never experienced a woman-woman relationship. She remembered that Helen… that girlfriend, back in Omaha, had wanted to rub and massage her breasts… and there had been some kissing. It hadn't gone beyond that. Still… as memory flooded back, she had known, even then… that they had been on the verge of discovering more of their sexuality. There was the warm tingle in her breasts, still remembered, when Helen had kissed them… and that uncomfortable moistness between her legs… and yes… there had been sexual stimulation. She knew now… what it had been.

Helen had moved away, she thought… or was it that she had discovered boys. They were more exciting, and it hadn't taken Joan long to find out why… She hadn't thought about women as sex-objects… until this very moment… when Carla had suggested going to her apartment… to get better acquainted! She was not that naive! She knew what the implications were in that loaded invitation!

In Carla's apartment they shared another drink. Joan was beginning to feel the effects of them; her head whirled, eyes refused to focus properly… and she felt exhilaration and a high sense of adventure… as she wondered when things were going to start happening. Churning, warmly, in her belly was a tiny spark of anticipating sensuality, waiting there to be fanned into full-blown passionate desire. It was a new feeling; one she had never before experienced.

They chattered… listened to a record or two… and then the drinks were finished. Carla put her glass down on the low coffee table, decisively. There's no point… in wasting any more time!

Direct, as always, Carla, seated on the couch next to Joan, leaned over to her, put her arms around the black-haired woman and kissed her, using her tongue, worming it, gently, between the other woman's lips and into her mouth to dart, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.

Even though she had expected it, when it came, Joan was surprised… and shocked. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, succeeding, finally, in twisting her mouth to the side to break the deep, warmly passionate kiss.

She gasped, "Really… Carla! Wh-What… are you doing? What do you… w-want…?"

"You know what I want! You!" Carla hissed, her grey-green eyes burning into Joan's dark orbs, as her tiny, warmly avid hand went out to caress the fullness of a soft breast through her clothing.

"Do you… m-mean…?"

"I want you… your lovely body! I want to… make love to you!" Carla told her, her voice husky and low.

Suddenly, in the face of the other woman's savage desire, she felt panic… and fear, a fear that she had overstepped the bounds… that she was in deeper water than she could handle.

"I-I couldn't… do that!" Joan gasped. "My husband… I-I…"

"He'd never need to know…"

"… But… I-I love… him!"

"Men! What do they know about love… about what really turns a woman on…?"

"It j-just seems… so…"

"Wrong…?" Carla finished, tossing her au burn hair back. "You'll never know… what it's like… to be turned on… really… until you've been loved… that way… by another woman! Because she's a woman… she knows what to do… what not to do…"

Then, as Carla's hand drifted down across her flat abdomen and began to squirm its way down into the angle of her thighs, pressing in against the curling, down-covered mound through the light layers of her clothing, Joan felt a sudden, leaping thrill-sensation surge warmly through her loins, seeming to center down there, between her now trembling thighs, signaling a prelude to forbidden pleasures. Her body wanted to leap for joy… to plunge in… experience all, but her reasoning mind was there, censoring the lewdly lubricious, sexually oriented signals, telling her: This isn't what you want… really! Remember… you can just walk away from it! You promised…!

Joan's own hand followed Carla's, grasped it in an attempt to pull it away… stop the other woman from going too far. Desperately, she murmured, "I've got… to g-go home… be there… when my husband…"

"Fuck your husband! He can wait… his turn!" Carla spat, her lips twisting around the obscenity, lewdly.

Joan was shocked. She had never heard a woman use words like that! She had heard the crudity from boys she had gone out with… and from her husband, Arnie, but no woman she had ever known had used the lewd word. Her face crimsoned with an unbidden blush. She gaped at the delicately beautiful, auburn-tressed woman, in disbelief, who had rapped it out so brazenly.