Message-ID: <55162asstr$1168672204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; q=dns; c=nofws; s=s1024; d=yahoo.com; h=X-YMail-OSG:Received:Date:From:Subject:To:MIME-Version:Content-Type:Content-Transfer-Encoding:Message-ID; b=tfGnQOzfMqa2T4Rx4IyHorwzI/Cyl8z782bwiBMeaFI0buWaYdL+M2sCclOFmDxm2at65ZNefZg/cQrxUgWKSQBYQ9dYRO3zNEGTDpORyUn4o6WI2F4MKF1Yx6rlxedu/xRnEglp8hwjiHIkY2bzI2qK6rbRwCH2szx9Jnf6mk8=; X-YMail-OSG: pGJR0UcVM1nEhoYeKVmUhMb2wmvRWXp9GteGxihuflbqt1a0xW8XjJjkHEOzFk26wbtOaQinAqcUvmtvfGEooq4wOjr7HDqf5vdZ0bC_nYUjKIZZOYki6RPzkI.ejpK..F22wWvSqGXxAcPh From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Original-Message-ID: <565682.38186.qm@web60412.mail.yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 12 Jan 2007 16:46:55 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 09 (MF, rom) Lines: 486 Date: Sat, 13 Jan 2007 02:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/55162> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: Sagittaria, emigabe Lazlo Zalezac http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac --------------------------------- Check out the all-new Yahoo! Mail beta - Fire up a more powerful email and get things done faster. <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> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+