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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 28 (MF, rom)
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Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 18:10:02 -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, "Life01-28.txt" begin>

A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 28: Battle Lines Are Drawn
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006

Humming happily to himself, Daryl sprinkled a small handful of 
peanuts over his bowl of ice cream. It was just the way he liked it; 
a good quantity of vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup 
with peanuts. He rubbed his hands in anticipation of eating it. After 
putting up the ingredients, he picked up his bowl and spoon to 
head for the guest room where he could eat it in comfort. He still 
had some thinking to do about what Greg had told him earlier that 
evening.

He turned around to find Shirley, seated at the kitchen table, 
watching him with her head tilted to the side. It reminded him of 
an Irish Setter looking at its own reflection in a mirror. She had 
that same look of puzzlement. She looked at the bowl of ice cream 
and said, "You sure love your bowl of vanilla ice cream."

Wondering if he was going to have a chance to eat it in peace, he 
said, "Yes, I do."

"I heard an interesting story this evening. Would you like to hear 
it?" she asked.

After looking down at the magnificent creation in his hand, he 
looked back at her. With a slight frown on his face, he asked, "Do 
you mind if I eat my ice cream while you tell it to me?" 

"Go ahead," she answered. Once he sat down, she started telling 
the story about June and Jack. Daryl had finished most of his ice 
cream by the time she had finished the first part of the story. She 
looked at him and, wanting to find out what he thought of Jack, 
asked, "What do you think about the story so far?"

"That woman is crazy," Daryl said.

Surprised by his answer, she asked, "Why do you say that?"

"He clearly loves his daughter. He's taking care of his family. He's 
providing food, shelter, and clothing. He's making sure she's 
getting the best education that he can. Otherwise, he'd be living in 
a cheaper neighborhood," Daryl answered. The tone of his voice 
suggested that the answer was obvious to anyone who knew 
anything about men.

"What about when he held his daughter for the first time and the 
look of horror on his face?"

"That wasn't horror. The guy was probably afraid that he'd drop 
the baby. I remember the first time I held a baby. You'd have 
thought I was holding a cobra by the expression on my face. I was 
terrified that I'd drop it," Daryl answered with a chuckle while 
thinking back to that day.

"You didn't seem that uneasy with Ted," Shirley said surprised at 
his explanation. 

"He wasn't the first baby I ever held. The way my cousins were 
popping out babies, I had lots of opportunities to hold them before 
I ever met you," Daryl answered.

"Oh," Shirley said. She was amazed at how different their 
interpretations of the first half of the story were. Shaking her head, 
she said, "The story ends with the woman finding out that he loved 
the daughter more than life itself."

"Of course," Daryl said. 

"He never said that he loved her," Shirley said trying to point out 
that there was no of course about the situation.

"Men don't do that," Daryl said with a snort. He looked at her and 
said, "I don't tell Ted that I love him. I tell him that he's done 
something well. I tell him that I'm proud of him when he does 
something right. He knows what I feel."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. You can ask him if you want," Daryl answered. 
Sitting back in his chair, he said, "You know my Dad never said 
anything like that to me, but I knew that he loved me. He showed it 
to me every time we were together. Sometimes when I had won a 
game or something, he'd pat me on the shoulder and I'd feel ten 
feet tall."

It didn't make sense to Shirley. She couldn't imagine going 
through life with someone and never telling them that you loved 
them. It shocked her that Daryl thought it was perfectly natural. 
Confused, she asked, "Did he ever ask you how you felt?"

"Well, if I hurt myself he'd ask me how it felt," Daryl answered 
forgetting completely about Greg's advice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I twisted my knee, he'd ask me how it felt," Daryl 
answered.

"How about how you felt about getting injured?"

"Why would he ask something like that? He knew exactly how I 
felt. If I had been doing something stupid when I got hurt, I felt 
stupid. He'd even tell me, `Boy, I bet you feel stupid.' If someone 
hurt me intentionally, I'd be angry. He'd tell me, `Boy, I bet you're 
pissed off.' He was always right," Daryl answered wondering why 
she would ask such a stupid question.

Shirley shook her head in dismay. Getting out of her chair, she 
said, "I feel confused."

Daryl stared at her trying to figure out what her problem was. 
Greg's advice came to mind. It was almost too late to help, but he 
decided to try it anyway. The problem was that he didn't exactly 
know how to ask her about her feelings. Taking his best shot, he 
asked, "In what way are you feeling confused?"

 It was the right question to ask. Shirley relaxed a little and 
answered, "My understanding of the first half of the story was 
exactly the opposite of yours. While I was listening to it, I kept 
thinking that I couldn't live with a man like that. The sad thing is 
that ever since Ted was attacked I have been thinking that you 
were just like that man. I felt like I had wasted my youth on a man 
incapable of caring about his family.

"Then when I heard how much he did love his daughter, I almost 
couldn't believe it. It made me question what I was thinking about 
you. It made me think that you were more like the guy in the story 
than I even realized. The man wasn't at fault. The fault was in how 
the women in his life had viewed him," Shirley said. Biting her 
lower lip, she leaned forward and then asked, "Are you like the 
man in that story?"

"I suppose I am," Daryl answered wondering how his love for his 
son could have ever been in doubt.

Nodding her head, Shirley found that she agreed with him on that 
matter. She asked, "Do you think I am like the woman in the 
story?"

"I don't know," Daryl answered softly. 

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Shirley asked feeling hurt. 
She had hoped that he would answer that she was like that woman. 
It would mean that it was a lack of understanding rather than 
something even worse.

"She lived thinking that way for seventeen years. You didn't go a 
day without mentioning it to me," he answered. While he felt it 
was pretty bad that the other woman didn't think her husband 
loved his daughter, he felt that it was worse that his wife didn't 
believe him when he said he cared.

"Oh," she said with a sigh of relief. 

"There's more to my answer, though," Daryl said puzzled by her 
sigh of relief.

"What?" she asked with evident concern.

"I still think that our marriage has been rather shallow," Daryl 
answered with a sigh. He could see his way to forgive his wife for 
not understanding him, but their current problems had only 
identified a more significant problem in their marriage. He wasn't 
going to be satisfied with going back to once a week sex on 
Tuesday nights with her just lying there and barely participating. 

"Oh," Shirley said. She had hoped that all would be forgiven and 
forgotten. Wanting to run out of the room, she stood up. With all of 
the self control that she could muster, she didn't flee. Swallowing 
heavily, she said, "I hope you forgive me for not realizing that you 
really did care."

"I forgive you," Daryl said. 

She started clearing the table feeling the need to move. Once the 
table was cleared she turned her back to him and started to rinse 
the bowl that had held his ice cream. In a slightly strangled voice, 
she said, "I need to think about the other stuff for a while. Maybe 
we can talk again tomorrow night."

"I'm ready to talk to you whenever you're ready to discuss our 
marriage," Daryl said with a heavy heart. He had hoped that she 
had already given thought to what she wanted out of the marriage. 
Disappointed, he rose out of his chair and headed out of the 
kitchen. 

Shirley nearly crumpled to the floor once Daryl had left the room. 
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she knelt on the floor and 
covered her face with her hands. The fact was that she didn't 
understand what he wanted from their marriage. She couldn't think 
of anything more she could provide that wasn't already a part of 
their marriage. She wanted things to go back to how they had been. 
They each had their roles, they each knew what was expected of 
them, and it hadn't been that bad. 

Being a wife, mother, and housekeeper defined her in a way that 
women had been defined for centuries. Between sobs, she 
wondered why it was wrong of her to want what women have had 
since time immemorial. A wife stood by her husband, supported 
him in what he did, and did what he wanted. A mother bore 
children, took care of them when they weren't able to care for 
themselves, and raised them to be productive members of society. 
As a woman, the house was her domain and she was proud of her 
house.

She blamed the women libbers for the sad state of the world today. 
Women had to make choices that weren't fair to women. A woman 
shouldn't have to feel guilty for wanting to be a housewife rather 
than a career woman. The fact of the matter was that she liked 
being a housewife. She resented anyone who suggested that she 
could have a more fulfilling life outside the home.

Of course, the one thing that bothered her the most was the change 
in sexual mores. A woman shouldn't have to turn into a slut 
because someone else was prattling on about the sexual revolution. 
Making love was supposed to be the most intimate sharing 
between man and woman, not some sort of Saturday afternoon 
entertainment. 

Shirley didn't believe that she was unattractive woman. Quite the 
converse was true. She knew that she was an attractive woman. 
She just didn't think it was necessary to dress up like some sort of 
tart and prance around to get the attention of her husband. He was 
supposed to approach her body like it was a shrine. She never 
denied him entrance to the shrine and, as a good husband, he 
should have been grateful for that.

Sex was the area where being a proper wife to a successful man 
required sacrifices on her part. Shirley believed that only ignorant 
and poor women allowed themselves to lose control over their 
sexuality. Intellectuals and the wealthy remained above the baser 
feelings. That wasn't to say that she hadn't come close on several 
occasions, but she had a strong will and had clamped down on her 
emotions. It was important to her to remain a proper wife to Daryl.

Sitting in the guest room, Daryl was thinking about his marriage. 
Both of them had both been virgins when they were married. The 
first few times together had been rather disappointing for him, but 
it had gotten better after a while. She was never all that active in 
bed. If he had to choose a word to describe how she made love, 
that word would be passive. Other men might think she was frigid, 
but they would have been wrong. She just wasn't expressive. 

With nothing better to do, Daryl picked up one of the fiction books 
out of one of the boxes by the side of the bed and glanced through 
it. The book opened to a page where a woman was in the process 
of seducing a young man. She was the villain trying to steal away 
another woman's man. 

It was a mediocre book and the description of the scene was lame. 
That didn't matter to Daryl. It was the situation within the text that 
struck a nerve. He leaned forward to cover his eyes. On the verge 
of tears, he knew that he'd pay thousands of dollars for his wife to 
act like that. Just once, he wanted her to show that she loved him. 

Thinking over the conversation with Greg earlier that night, Daryl 
recalled Greg mentioning that they were overcome by their 
passions on occasions. He couldn't recall that ever happening even 
once in his marriage. Sex was serious business according to his 
wife. It wasn't to be taken lightly. Sex was sacred. He shook his 
head and, in a voice laden with disgust, said, "Sacred."

---

Shirley awoke Sunday morning determined to get advice about 
how to save her marriage. Not having a clue where she could turn, 
she decided that it was necessary to go to a different source. After 
dressing, she stepped into the kitchen and announced, "I'm going 
to church. You two can get your own breakfasts."

To say that her announcement was unexpected would be an 
understatement. Daryl and Ted were left staring at the door after 
Shirley left without saying another word. Picturing lectures about 
marriage based on passages of the Bible, Daryl said, "God, all we 
need is for her to become a holy roller."

"She seemed better last night," Ted said with concern. His fears of 
the previous evening appeared to be coming true.

Looking across the empty table, Daryl asked, "Are you up for 
waffles at the waffle house?"

---

Despite her hopes that turning to God would help, Shirley found 
the service to be boring. The sermon was about loving your 
neighbors. She didn't have a problem with the topic, but there were 
calls to demonstrate neighborly feelings. These calls were in the 
form of requests to hug the person seated next to her in the church. 
For the most part, she thought it was kind of stupid and went 
through the actions mechanically.

The woman seated next to Shirley was in her seventies and looked 
very attractive in a conservative way. The woman's husband was 
not quite so attractive. Gruff and large in a manner that could have 
been described as threatening, he needed a shave. Looking at the 
man, Shirley decided that the only word to describe the man was 
grizzled. 

Although she was clueless about their history, she assumed they 
had been married for fifty years. Considering the situation in her 
life, she wondered how anyone managed to remain married for so 
many years. She felt that she had been the perfect wife except for 
that little hiccup about not believing that her husband cared about 
Ted's attack. Being perfect apparently was insufficient to assure a 
good marriage.

The service came to an end and people started to file out of the 
church. Dissatisfied with her experience in church, Shirley 
remained seated while everyone else left. There was an empty spot 
in her life and she didn't know how to fill it. She looked up at the 
cross at the head of the room and gave a silent prayer for guidance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the elderly woman. "What's the 
matter, honey?"

Looking at the older woman, Shirley thought about the problems in 
her life. She was tempted to tell the woman that nothing was the 
matter, but the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. Instead, she 
found herself telling the woman everything about her marriage. 
She started with how perfect it had been and how the attack on her 
son had left her isolated from her family with her husband sleeping 
in the guest room. Without realizing what she was doing, she 
repeated her husband's demand for a more exciting sex life several 
times while telling about recent events.

The elderly woman listened to the entire story with a slight frown 
on her face. She'd heard that story many times before. In fact, she 
had told the story just before her divorce almost thirty years earlier. 
She had ignored the advice she had received. It had taken a second 
husband and a lot of arguments before she understood what she 
had done wrong. 

When the young woman stopped crying, she said, "Men believe 
that actions speak louder than words. I really believe that we 
women don't understand that."

Shirley stared at the other woman for a minute and asked, "What 
do you mean?"

"Do you love your husband?"

"Yes, I do," Shirley answered surprised that the woman could even 
question her feelings towards her husband.

"I bet you tell him that a couple of times a day."

She was on the verge of saying that she did that until she recalled 
her behavior over the past few weeks. Replying in a manner 
intended to excuse her actions, Shirley said, "I did until Ted was 
attacked."

Ignoring the excuse, the elderly woman asked, "Do you show him 
that you love him?"

"I do all the things a wife is supposed to do. I prepare his meals, 
take care of the house, and I've raised our child," Shirley answered 
with an assertive nod of her head. 

"Do you ever initiate making love to him?" the elderly woman 
asked noticing the complete absence of acting in a supporting 
manner or acting as a lover in the other woman's answer.

"Of course not," Shirley answered indigent at the idea that she act 
like a common street whore.

Staring at the younger woman, the elderly woman couldn't believe 
what she was hearing. Concerned, she asked, "What do you mean 
by of course not?"

"A man of his station doesn't want a wife who is forward about 
things like that. He expects his wife to act like a lady," Shirley 
answered.

"Honey, haven't you ever heard that a man wants a lady in the 
living room, an economist in the kitchen, and a whore in the 
bedroom?"

"That's just a joke," Shirley said frowning at the use of the term 
whore in a church.

"No, it's not. I'm surprised your man hasn't found a cute little 
thing on the side. That's what my first husband did when I denied 
him certain pleasures because I was too much of a lady to perform 
them on him," the elderly woman said while shaking her head. She 
thought that young women today knew better than that. 

"Your first husband?" Shirley asked.

The elderly woman examined Shirley for a minute trying to make 
up her mind if the younger woman would learn anything from her 
life story. After a minute, she started telling about how she had 
once been a banker's wife. It was a story of a woman who was 
important because her husband was important. After a few years, 
she had become convinced that she was significant because of who 
she was rather than what her husband did for a living. She even let 
him know that he was important only because of her hard work. It 
would be years later before she realized how stupid her words must 
have sounded to him. 

When she wouldn't perform oral sex on him, he solved the 
problem by finding another woman who would. Of course she 
learned about his indiscretion and a huge argument ensued. Once 
the trust had been broken, the marriage basically fell apart. Two 
years later, she was walking to the curb with her suitcase in hand 
and a little money in her purse. Life ever since then had been a 
whole lot harder for her. 

Shirley listened to the entire story with wide eyes. She couldn't 
believe that men back in the old days expected women to give 
them blowjobs. Unable to resist, she asked, "Are you telling me 
that men wanted women to do that oral thing on them when you 
were younger?"

"Honey, that's the second thing that Adam asked Eve to do for 
him."

Puzzled, Shirley asked, "What was the first thing?"

"To spread her legs," the elderly woman said with a smile. She 
could hardly believe this woman was so ill informed about 
relations between men and women. 

"Oh," Shirley said even as her face heated from a blush. Leaning 
over, she asked, "What if he wants to do the oral thing to the 
woman?"

"You tell him to do that anytime he wants," the elderly woman 
answered with a laugh. 

"That's so nasty. Why would he want to put his face down there?"

The elderly woman looked Shirley incredulously at her attitude. 
Her beliefs were old fashioned even when she was young. 
Saddened by what she had heard, she said, "Honey. I hate to say 
this, but I think that maybe you ought to visit a sex therapist. You 
need to learn about these things because I don't think you 
understand how a woman and a man are supposed to express their 
love to each other."

Indignant, Shirley sat up and said, "I know one thing for sure; a 
man is supposed to treat a woman's body like a temple and 
worship it."

Nodding her head, the elderly woman studied Shirley for a 
moment. Cutting straight to the heart of the matter, she said, "I'm 
sure your man does that. The question is -- how is a woman 
supposed to treat a man's body? I can tell you this. If you don't 
treat his body like a temple and worship it, he's going to change 
temples."

"What?" Shirley asked shocked at the suggestion that she worship 
her husband's body.

The elderly woman stood up and said, "I've got to leave now. It's 
time for me to go home and worship a little at the temple that is my 
husband. You might consider doing the same."

Shirley was left seated in the middle of church lost in thought. She 
wondered if the elderly woman was right. She had seemed like 
such a nice woman initially, but now she wasn't so sure of that. 
Everyone had roles. Men were supposed to act one way and 
women another. Men were to pursue women. Women were to wait 
for the attentions of men unless they were some kind of slut or 
seductress.

"Seductress," she said aloud liking the sound of the word. That 
woman had suggested that she act like some sort of seductress. The 
idea of being a seductress to her own husband surprised her. Even 
more surprising, she found that the idea intrigued her. Looking up 
at the cross, she asked, "How am I supposed to do that?"
<1st attachment end>


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