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Outwardly, suburbia maintains the strait-laced middle-class look that belies the social ferment behind closed doors.
There is the secret use of drugs, fed by the marijuana syndrome. There is the river of alcohol flooding from door to door under the euphemism of social drinking. Then, of course, there is the advent of swinging and illicit sex. All in the spirit of good clean fun … But where does the fun stop and degradation begin? When one excess leads to another—and another—to what? When the children set as a pattern for their own life style what already is the norm at home?
This is the story of one family in one neighborhood in one city, Anywhere, U.S.A. The Mosses—Laura, the wife, Frank, her husband, and Sally and Steve, their two young teenagers. It is startling as a mirror of a way of life behind closed doors. No facade. No regrets. Indeed, for them it is the norm.
The norm . . . For the Mosses, yes. And how many other families like them?
BLACKMAILED HOUSEWIFE—A novel of entertainment. A page of our restless society as food for serious thought.
The way I had my legs spread I could see my cunt in the mirror. It seemed to be winking at me, saucily inviting me to touch it.
I watched my fingers slide over the top of my thigh and press against the drooling lips. Then, pulling apart the pink folds, I exposed my clitoris and stared at the throbbing button.
Slowly I began to massage myself, circulating my fingers around the top of my snatch. Mmmmmmm, I was touching all the right places.
Even though I started to experience a series of miniature orgasms, I didn’t take my eyes off the reflected action. I was hypnotized by the image of my own dripping twat.
Looking at my pussy in the mirror while I was masturbating had become a ritual for me. It made me feel like a voyeur spying on myself. Somehow this illusion of peeping helped me forget the depressing fact that I was having to get it on with myself again.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.