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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 09 (MF, rom)
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Date: Sat, 13 Jan 2007 02:10:04 -0500
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
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<1st attachment, "Life01-09.txt" begin>
A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 9: Trouble In Paradise
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006
"School will be out in three weeks," Sharon said with a smile. She
adjusted the cover that she wore over her swimsuit. They had
decided that appropriate attire for evenings spent on the patio was
a swimsuit and a cover while having drinks with the option of a
swim afterwards. It was a more informal evening than those spent
in the formal living room.
Cathy acted as if she hadn't heard her mother. Harry rubbed his
hands together excitedly and said, "I'm counting down the days."
Summer had always been stressful for her since she was at work
and the kids were at home without supervision. She had a feeling
that this summer would be a little different. A small level of trust
had been achieved over the past few weeks. She looked at her kids
and asked, "Are you ready for a long leisurely summer?"
Now that he owned a car, money was a major concern. His father
had told him that he was responsible for gas money and half the
insurance. Harry answered, "I've put in job applications in every
store in the mall. I'm ready for summer, but I don't think it is
going to be leisurely."
"I hope you find a good job that pays well and gives you a little
time to enjoy your summer," Greg said. He remembered his first
job. He had gotten a job as a cook in a chicken place, although
cook suggested a level of skill that wasn't present in the job. He
dipped the chicken parts into a premixed liquid, then into flour
premixed with spices, repeated the process and then dropped it into
the fryer for a fixed period of time. He came home from work
every night smelling of fried chicken. The money wasn't great, but
it was enough to pay for his car.
"I hope so. I'd like to have Friday or Saturday nights off so that I
can take Lisa out," Harry said.
"I remember my first part-time job. I don't recall ever having to
work both Friday and Saturday nights, though."
Noticing that he daughter had not answered her original question,
Sharon turned to Cathy and asked, "How about you, Cathy? Are
you looking forward to a leisurely summer?"
"I guess," Cathy answered listlessly. She took a sip of her wine
spritzer and stared at the floor lost in her thoughts. The fact was
that she was dreading the summer.
"Is there something the matter?" Greg asked concerned by the
withdrawn answer.
"No," Cathy answered without emotion. Out of sync with her
answer, she looked over at her father and shook her head. She
wasn't going to tell him her problems. She sighed. It and her body
language gave further testimony that something was the matter.
Before Sharon had a chance to follow up with her own question,
the doorbell rang. She said, "Ah, the doorbell."
Harry stood up and said, "That will be Miss McCullum. I'll get it."
"Okay," Greg said with a grin. Harry had been a totally different
person since his date. He remembered his first girlfriend and the
slow progress of the relationship. He remembered the kissing
sessions that lasted all night and left him with blue balls. It was
months after the first date before he saw his first naked breast. That
event had left him with wet underwear. He chuckled at the
memory.
When Harry raced into the house, Sharon said, "So I finally get to
meet the mysterious Miss McCullum."
"Yippee," Cathy said in a dull flat voice. She twirled a finger in air
and sighed loudly.
It was clear to Gary and Sharon that something was bothering
Cathy. It was equally clear that she didn't want to talk about it.
Even worse, she was not going to be very pleasant company.
Rather than risk a scene, Sharon decided to take matters into her
own hands. In a quiet voice, she asked, "Cathy, would you mind
helping me for a minute?"
"I'd rather not," Cathy said looking over at her mother. All she
wanted was to be left alone.
"I could really use your help," Sharon said. Her mind worked
furiously trying to come up with some excuse to get alone with her
daughter. The last thing she wanted was for Cathy to ruin the first
introduction to Lisa. It would take Harry a long time to forgive her.
"I'd really rather not," Cathy said getting stubborn.
"Please."
Cathy stared at her mother trying to remember the last time that
she had used that word to her. Even with the changes in lifestyle,
her requests for help often had the tone of demands. She said,
"No."
"Okay," Sharon said. She took a sip of her wine to calm down. She
turned to look at door waiting for Harry to arrive with Lisa. She
didn't know what the matter was, but Cathy had never been the
same since the night she and her husband had destroyed the formal
dining room.
After a half-minute of silence, Cathy asked, "Aren't you going to
order me to help you?"
"No."
Puzzled, Cathy stared at her mother unable to believe her answer.
Her mother had actually said please and accepted no as an answer.
That was a first. She stood up and said, "Well, you did say please.
What do you want?"
"Come with me to my bedroom," Sharon said thinking it would
give them plenty of privacy. The sudden turn-about was a surprise,
but she tried not to make a big deal out of it.
Greg watched the two women head into the house surprised by
Cathy's reversal. He realized that Sharon had passed some sort of
test. Thinking about it, he realized that the kids had been testing
them a lot lately. Most of the tests were little things to see if they
listened or kept their promises. He suspected that more critical
tests were to come.
When they reached the bedroom, Sharon sat down on the edge of
the bed and patted a spot next to her. Curious, Cathy sat down and
asked, "What do you need me to do?"
Adjusting her position to put her closer to her daughter, Sharon put
her arms around Cathy and gave her a hug. Even as she did it, she
realized that it was the first time she had hugged her daughter in at
least six years. She said, "Nothing. Just sit here and let me feel my
little girl in my arms. I wish I could help you, but I don't know
what the problem is. It hurts me to see you in such pain."
Cathy went rigid and then a shudder ran through her body. After
just a few seconds, she burst into tears and sobbed out of control.
Once the dam burst, the flood of emotions wouldn't stop. Despite
the awkward embrace with her mother, her mother was rocking her
and rubbing her back. The whole time her mother murmured
assurances that things would be all right. Surprising both of them,
Cathy blurted out, "I'm going to die a virgin."
To say that Sharon was shocked to hear her daughter talking about
wanting to lose her virginity would be an understatement. Rather
than react to the extreme nature of her daughter's statement, she
tried to address the real issue. She asked, "Why do you say that?"
"Everyone has someone except me. All of my friends have
boyfriends. Not one boy has even looked at me. Even Harry has a
girlfriend," Cathy said. That day she had gone to school wearing a
very short skirt and tight shirt. None of the boys had approached
her despite her obvious advertisement that she was interested in
their attention. The final straw had been watching her parents greet
each other with passionate kisses. She sobbed and said, "Even you
and dad are boffing each other. Parents don't do that!"
Knowing that the situation was serious, Sharon managed to resist
laughing at hearing what she and Greg had done described as
boffing. She had categorized it as hot raw monkey sex, but that
was her opinion. The assertion that parents didn't do it was
probably accurate for reasons other than what Cathy thought. It
wasn't that the desire wasn't there, but that the relationship was
gone having been destroyed by the pressures of being parents. She
said, "You'll find a boy soon."
"No I won't! School is out in three weeks. If a boy doesn't ask me
out, then I won't be seeing another boy for three months," Cathy
whined.
Curious, she asked, "Do you have a specific boy in mind?"
"No. I don't care who it is, I just want a boyfriend," Cathy
answered. She had dreamed about Robert Green, but had given up
after watching the relationship between him and Amy grow. Now
she'd be satisfied by any boy.
"Oh, you have it bad," Sharon said rocking her daughter in her
arms. She remembered her years as a teenage girl.
Misunderstanding her mother, Cathy pulled back and said, "I'm
not bad!"
"I said you had it bad, not that you were bad," Sharon said. She ran
a hand through her daughters hair; pulling it away from her face.
She sighed and said, "I was the same way when I was your age. Oh
God, I remember how that was. I wanted a boyfriend so much that
I was willing to do anything he wanted. I finally got one, he
wanted a lot, and, once I gave it to him, he screwed me over
royally. The fucking bastard!"
The tone of voice her mother used on the last three words was
harsh and bitter. Cathy sat back and looked at her with wide eyes
wondering what the boy had done to her. She knew about girls
whose reputations had suffered because a boy had talked. Even
though every girl did those things, the social failure was choosing a
boy who talked about it. If no one talked about it, then they hadn't
done it and could pretend to be good girls. Curious, she wanted to
find out what had happened. However, her problems were
foremost on her mind. She asked, "What should I do?"
Sharon knew that telling her daughter to wait wasn't going to
work. Social standing among teenage girls was a horribly complex
thing. Girls who were interested in boys measured their value
according to the boys who were interested in them. A casual hello
by a boy would be grist for hours of discussion among the girls.
Her little girl was growing up fast. She sighed and said, "You get
yourself a boyfriend."
That answer was almost as bad as being told to wait. Cathy
groaned and stared up at the ceiling. In a tone of voice that would
normally have grated on Sharon's nerves, she said, "Don't you get
it? They aren't interested in me!"
Shaking her head, Sharon decided to be brutally honest with her
daughter. The subject was too important to hide behind half truths
and round about talk. She answered, "Honey, you are a very pretty
girl. Even if you weren't, you have well developed tits and a pussy.
Believe me, the boys are interested. Interest isn't the problem."
Pulling back from her mother, Cathy stared at her as if she had
never met the woman before. Her mother was talking about tits and
pussy? Mothers weren't supposed to know those words. She
grabbed the one thing in her mother's statement that she felt
comfortable repeating. "Interest isn't the problem?"
"Cathy, a boy your age will do anything to have sex. He'll even
date the ugliest girl in the school on the chance that he'll get into
her panties. Interest isn't the problem."
"So why aren't the ugly girls getting boyfriends?"
Sharon laughed and said, "Boys are scared to death of girls saying
no. Can you imagine how a boy would feel if the ugliest girl in
school said no to him? That's worse than the prettiest girl in school
saying no."
"So why can't I get a boyfriend," Cathy asked.
"I'm afraid that boys put girls into three categories and you are in
the wrong category to get asked out."
"What categories?" Cathy asked. She'd never heard such a thing.
Sharon answered, "The smallest category contains the girls who
boys won't ask out unless very desperate. These are the ugly girls.
The boys know that if the girl said no that it would destroy their
ego. Even worse, if the girl said yes they would embarrassed by
being seen with her. This category contains all the really ugly girls.
You might not believe it, but it only contains a handful of girls
from your school. You are definitely not in this category."
"I would think not," Cathy said. She knew that she wasn't
devastatingly beautiful like the head cheerleader, but she was
pretty. That was what was so weird about not being able to get a
boyfriend.
Grinning at the disclaimer, Sharon said, "The largest category
contains the girls who are out of their class and would
automatically say no. This includes all of the pretty girls and the
friendly ones who are viewed as classy despite their appearance. I
fear this is the category that the boys at school have placed you.
"The last category contains those girls the boys ask out with great
regularity. They are pretty enough that the boy is proud of being
seen with them. They are approachable enough that the boy can
expect a yes. The only reason girls in that category aren't dating
more is because the boys are still afraid of asking them out. This is
the category that you want to be in."
Cathy stared at her mother thinking that she had definitely lost a
card out of her mental deck. Her whole theory of boys was crazy.
Incredulous, she said, "That's stupid."
"I thought so when I first heard it, but I bet I can prove it to you,"
Sharon replied with a grin. When one of her girlfriends in high
school had first proposed the theory, they hadn't believed it either.
They had played games with the boys intending to disprove the
theory. The results were not what they had expected. When all four
of them had boyfriends by the end of the week they declared the
theory a law of nature.
"Prove it."
"I saw what you were wearing this morning. You went off to
school this morning dressed to kill. I'd bet that not one boy even
talked to you today. Am I right?"
"Yes." Cathy nodded her head surprised by her mother's insight
into her day. She had walked around school the whole day waiting
for one guy to notice her. Instead of looking at her, they all looked
away. Even the guys that normally talked to her didn't say a word.
Smiling Sharon said, "They were scared to talk to you. Every one
of them figured that you'd say no to them if they were to ask you
out. They just watched you thinking you were out of their class."
"Not one boy was watching me," Cathy said.
"Oh they were watching. You can bet money on that."
"I would have known," Cathy argued. She wanted to prove her
mother wrong on that point.
"Even a comment about them being a pervert if they were caught
watching you is enough to make them look away. So what did they
do? They watched you from a distance where you wouldn't be able
to see them watching you."
"No."
"Yes. You've seen boys watching girls who were standing a
hundred feet away. Haven't you?"
"Sure, but those are the cheerleaders or the really pretty ones."
"Yeah, those are the girls in the too pretty to ask out category.
Remember, that happens to be the one to which you belong."
It sounded ridiculous to her. Cathy frowned and asked, "So what
am I supposed to do, get uglier?"
"Of course not," Sharon answered with a laugh.
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"I want you to think about three boys who are nice to you. I don't
mean the ones you think are hunks, but the guys who are
personally nice to you. You know what I mean - the ones that open
the door for you, the ones that occasionally say hello when they
pass you in the hall, and the ones that are respectful when you state
your opinion in class. Okay, remove from that list all of the ones
that have girlfriends," Sharon said watching the expression on her
daughter's face. When it was clear that she had come up with a list
of names that met her criteria, she said, "I bet you still have three
guys."
"Two. One of them was Robert Green, but he's polite to
everyone."
Sharon laughed and said, "Exception noted. Now, why do you
think those two boys don't have girlfriends?"
"I don't know," Cathy answered. They weren't the most handsome
guys at school, but they weren't goofy looking. They were nice
guys, but no one seemed to notice them.
"Okay, here's what you do. Tomorrow wear some nice jeans; not
the tight jeans that show off your curves, but a comfortable pair.
Wear a nice shirt. Again, don't go for the kill. Are you following
me?"
"Sure," Cathy answered looking dubious.
"Pick one of those two boys and arrange it so that you are near him
when he's not surrounded by a group of friends. Do you think you
can manage that?"
One of the boys she was thinking about had two classes with her.
They usually walked the same route from one class to the next and
weren't surrounded by friends. That was when he usually held the
door open for her. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "I can handle
that."
"Good. When you are near him, just say hello and then ask him if
you could ask a personal question. You know that he's going to
answer that you can."
"Okay." No one would ever say that you couldn't ask them a
question. They might not answer your question, but she'd never
heard anyone say that you couldn't ask it.
"Before you ask your question, tell him he's a nice guy and really
knows how to treat women with respect. Let him know that women
like that a lot. Then ask him why he doesn't have a girlfriend,"
Sharon said with a grin. She had used a variation of that on Greg
and, even after all these years, he still thought his pick up line was
what had gotten her to say yes. He had never stood a chance.
"He's going to answer that he doesn't know why," Cathy said.
He'd probably be embarrassed and ready to crawl under his desk.
"Agree with him. Tell him you don't know why either. Tell him
that lots of women want men who are nice and treat them with
respect. Tell him that you know at least a dozen girls who would
love to go out with a guy like him. You do know what he's going
to say, don't you?"
Frowning, Cathy thought about it for a moment and then said,
"Who?"
"Exactly. Then you tell him that you are looking for a guy who is
nice and respectful of women," Sharon answered. She smiled and
added, "You didn't tell him that you wanted to go out with him,
just someone like him. That moves you from the inaccessible
category of women to the accessible category."
"You're kidding."
"He'll be asking someone out within two days. If you play your
cards right, it will be you," Sharon said. She'd done that with a boy
with the result that he had asked out her friend. Somehow, he had
gotten the impression that she had approached him on her friend's
behalf.
"Two days?"
"Yes. Always works," Sharon said. Giving a conspiratorial look at
her daughter, she added, "If he doesn't work out, go to number two
on your list. I've never seen anyone need to go to number three."
"You are telling me that if I dress down and then tell him that it is
weird that he doesn't have a girlfriend, that within two days he'll
ask me out."
"Yes."
"I don't believe it."
"Try it. What have you got to lose?"
That was the real question. What did she have to lose? From what
her mother was saying, even if he didn't ask she hadn't looked
foolish. What's wrong with telling a guy that he is nice and
respectful? That wasn't the same as offering herself as a virgin
sacrifice. She answered, "I don't know."
Sharon said, "One of the great things about this approach is that it
tells him that to stand a chance with you, he has to be nice and
respectful. You'll appreciate that once you've gone out with him a
couple of times."
"Oh," Cathy said. She hadn't thought about that aspect.
"Now, go wash your face and let's go out to meet Lisa
McCullum," Sharon said. She was curious about the young lady
who had wrapped her son around her little finger.
Cathy rushed to her parent's bathroom and washed her face. Her
eyes were red-rimmed from crying. The cold water helped
eliminate some of the redness, but it was still obvious that she had
been crying.
She looked in the mirror and saw her mother straightening the edge
of the bed. Her mother was wearing a one piece bathing suit and a
lacy cover. The one-piece wasn't that sexy, but the lacy cover was
definitely enticing. It just wasn't the kind of thing that a mother
wore.
The past few weeks had been very confusing for Cathy. Most of
the time, she didn't recognize her mother. That night when she had
caught them in the dining room, her mother had been wearing a
wig. Glancing over at the dresser, she saw that her mother now had
four wigs. Outside of that one time, she'd never seen her mother
wear a wig. It was weird.
Together, the two women headed out to the patio to meet Lisa
McCullum. Sharon was immensely pleased with how she had
handled the situation. Cathy was happy to have something to try.
She thought about the boy she had put on the list and decided that
he would make a pretty good boyfriend.
<1st attachment end>
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