Peter Jensen - The blackmailed mother book I

"A real fab one. Most of the foxy guys from the football team," Tamera said conspiratorially. "If word leaked out about the drinking and… things, they'd be dismissed from the squad!" She almost made a slip; the time wasn't right to tell the innocent virgin girl what the other "things" would consist of. "It's going to be outa sight!"

"Wow!" Jennifer breathed with envious excitement.

"Vic's going to pick me up here at nine." She lowered her head, now looking contrite. "I'm sorry about it, Jennie. I know how you were counting on us keeping each other company tonight."

"Yeah, well I can understand."

"If there was some way you could come along…"

"Forget it. I'd just be in the way." She picked a cuticle. "You go and have a real nice time."

There was a long moment of silence – or as much silence as could be had when the record player was screaming out "yah, yah, yah, yah, yahhhhhh!" Then a small smile began an Tamera's lips. She said: "Wait a minute! Maybe we can get you along!"

"How?"

"That is… if you really want to go."

"Sure I do. You don't think I want to stay around Dullsville tonight, do you?"

"It might get a little… rough."

Tamera's warning only whetted the natural curiosity and the refusal in Jennifer to admit she wasn't "grown-up" enough; she jutted her jaw forward and said defiantly, "Don't worry about me none. I won't faint or something."

"Well, promise me you'll not panic, no matter what you see." She saw nervousness and indecision in Jennifer's eyes, so she hastily added, "Not that you have to do any of it." She didn't say what the "it" was – better not scare the poor virgin off entirely. Anyway, Tamera knew Jennifer well enough to know that the younger teen-ager's imagination would fill in some of the gaps, and would only entice her more than if she was told everything. "Just don't start making a scene. Act as if you're part of it like everyone else, and not a wet blanket." She smiled again wickedly. "That is, if you don't care for some of the action. What the hell, you might; I sure do."

"Sure I promise, Tam," Jennifer said hurriedly, her throat parched with excitement. "What do you take me for, a kid? I won't embarrass you any. You'll see. But how'll you fix it so I can go?"

"Well, we'll have to get you a date."

"But I'm not going with anybody. Besides, you said the guys are from the football team, and they're all going with girls now."

"Stan Lubin isn't. He broke off with Marsha Dixon last weekend, up at the mountains. Didn't you know?"

"Jeez! 'The Slam'?" Jennifer spoke in awe of the team's star fullback. His size and offensive determination had earned him the monicker of Stan 'The Slam' Lubin. He was Vic's buddy, and next to Vic, was the school's biggest athletic hero. "You think you could get me a date with Stan?"

"I can't promise, but I'll call Vic and see if he'll talk to Stan. If we do swing it, that's even more reason for you to be a sport. He doesn't cotton to sissies."

"For Stan," Jennifer said, stars twirling in her eyes, "I'd do most anything."

"We'll see," Tamera said under her breath. Then to Jennifer she said: "Let's go ask your mother if it's all right first, and then I'll call Vic."

Lonnie Carmel was ambivalent to the request. On one hand she saw the excitement in her daughter, and wanted to make her happy. But Jennifer was so young for such things. And besides, that would leave her home all alone, which was the last thing on earth the wanted to be faced with tonight. She shook her head. "I… I don't know, Jennifer."

"Aw, Mom! Please!"

"I'm sure Jennifer will be quite safe," Mrs. Oliss offered. "If I had any doubts, I'd never allow Tamera to go. But Vic's a good boy, and from the little I've met of Stan Lubin, he's been very polite and well mannered." She had a very hard time keeping a straight face, saying that garbage. Cylvia Oliss had first hand knowledge that Stan Lubin had gained his nick-name from his way of fucking girls as much as from ho football techniques. The third worst person to entrust a young naive virgin with was Stan Lubin in her estimation; Vic and her husband being the first and second, and not necessarily in that order.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Mrs. Carmel," Tamera sad. Damned right I will. I love watching 'The Slam' in action.

"Yes, but…"

"Tell you what," Mrs. Oliss said, as if suddenly struck with a thought. "Let the girls go out, and we'll go out, too. I think we deserve a dinner and a couple of drinks, after the way Martin and Roger deserted us."

"Sure, Mom, that sounds swell. You haven't been out for ages."

Lonnie had drunk three scotch and gingers, and her mind wasn't quite as sharp as it was normally… The liquor had relaxed her, made her feel as if life was worth living a little. Maybe going out for a dinner instead of slaving over the stove wasn't a bad idea; Lord knew she had earned a break.

"If I know Martin, he's lounging in the cocktail bar right now, lapping up martinis and ogling the girls," Cylvia continued. "Acting like he wasn't married, and he's just like all other men when they're away from home. Huh!" she sniffed, as if outraged at masculine games. "We ought to have the same privileges. We ought to have a night out once in a while to act as if we were the girls' ages again, without responsibilities."

"A dinner and a drink would sound nice," Lonnie said, already half convinced that she should go out and it would be entirely innocent. That nothing would happen. That Roger would approve if he knew what she was considering. That made her think of Roger, and the insidiously implanted suggestion of Cylvia's made her imagine Roger sitting beside Martin at the cocktail bar. Well, she would go, and damn the consequences – of which she was, sure there would be none. She and Cylvia were both adult and mature – and two unescorted women this day and age were not considered bad as they had been in her mother's time.

"I'm convinced," she said giddily. "Jennifer, if you promise to be good, and if Vic's friend wants to take you to the pity, then I'll let you. And you, Mrs. Oliss, will have the pleasure of escorting Mrs. Carmel to a steak dinner and drinks a little later on."

"Excellent!" from Cylvia.

"You're swell, Mother!" from Jennifer.

"I'll call Vic," from Tamera.

The phone call was pure fraud. A bald-faced con to convince the Carmel mother and daughter that this was all spontaneous. In fact, it had been carefully laid out before-hand; even 'The Slam' and his girl, Marsha, with whom he hadn't broken up with at all, were in on it. They hadn't been told why the alteration in Jennifer's virginal status was desired; Vic and Tamera had merely told them they had thought it up as the evening's entertainment highlight, a new twist to the usual alcohol and marijuana and sex kicks. They thought the forced seduction of Little Miss Carmel was one grand joke.

The result was that Tamera went through the motions of asking and arguing and hearing the I-don't-knows and I'll-have-to-check-and-call-you-back. The wait of fifteen minutes had been added as a special, exquisite form of psychological torture to insure that Jennifer was fully ensnared, wanting the date more and more with each passing second.

Cylvia got up, and as a long-time and trusted friend of the Carmel family, made herself and Lonnie another drink. She liberally laced Lonnie's with scotch, and added some vodka for good measure. What she had in store for Mrs. Carmel was going to take all the help she could get, and having her friend drunk would "grease the runway", to use a phrase of her father's.

Then the phone rang, and Tamera answered it. She attentively listened to Vic tell her what he was planning to do with his cock to her that night, and then she put the receiver down and turned to Jennifer. With a solumn tone she said what she had known all along: "Stan says he'll take you."