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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 38 (MF, rom)
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Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 08:10:05 -0500
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This is the final chapter of A Different Sort Of Lifestyle.  I hope you've
enjoyed this story.

   Lazlo

   Lazlo Zalezac http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac

   -------------------------------- 8:00?  8:25?  8:40?  Find a flick in no
time
   with theYahoo!  Search movie showtime shortcut.

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<1st attachment, "Life01-38.txt" begin>

A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 38: Summer's End
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006

Victor entered a bar called `The Point.' It was just on the border of 
the town where he was the Chief of Police. He took a seat at one 
end of the bar intending to spend a couple of hours watching what 
kind of clientele the bar attracted. Even though this was a quiet 
suburban neighborhood, bars tended to be the source of a major 
problem -- drunk drivers. The grizzled bartender walked down the 
bar and asked, "What can I do for you, Chief?"

"Chief?"

"You're the new police chief. I recognized you from your picture 
in the newspaper," the old man answered with a wry grin. He 
asked, "So, what can I get for you?"

"I'll take a tonic water," Victor answered.

"On duty, huh?"

"Yes," Victor answered. He figured that the old man had seen 
more than one cop come into his place to check out the action.

"Checking out the clientele?"

"Yes."

"I figured you'd show up here sometime. Of course, I expected 
you to visit last week." 

"Sorry I'm late," Victor said with a laugh. 

The bartender walked down to the soda tap and pulled a glass from 
the rack overhead. After putting a couple of ice cubes in it, he 
filled it with tonic water. He walked back to where Victor was 
seated and placed the drink in front of him. Smiling, he said, 
"Here's your gin and tonic without the gin."

Chuckling, Victor said, "Thanks."

The bartender leaned against the back counter with his arms 
crossed over his chest. He said, "You won't find any drunk drivers 
leaving here. I take the keys away from them before they get too 
far gone."

"That's good to know," Victor said despite the fact that he wasn't 
going to take the man's word for it. 

Shaking his head, the bartender knew that Victor didn't believe 
him. He headed to the other end of the bar to wait for another 
customer to enter the bar. It was a slow night. As far as he was 
concerned, that was a good thing. He leaned against the counter 
and watched the news on the television. 

Victor sat in his chair contemplating his drink. For the moment he 
was the only customer in the bar; a rather surprising situation 
considering that it was happy hour. He sighed and thought about 
how life as Chief of Police in suburban America differed from 
being a detective in the big city. It was a lot more peaceful and the 
hours were much more regular. He actually made it home most 
nights for dinner. 

It was weird, but his one little conversation with his daughter had 
changed the nature of their relationship a lot. Amy was a lot more 
talkative than ever and told him about what was going on in her 
life. In a way, her openness had made it a lot easier to trust her 
even though she had a boyfriend. He found that he actually liked 
the boyfriend and that was very unexpected. 

His relationship with his wife had improved as well. She was much 
more relaxed and loving. They made love almost every night. The 
fact was that he was much more relaxed now and had the time to 
pay more attention to her. He thought to himself, `Life is good.'

Victor's attention turned to the door when a young man entered the 
bar. The man was too young to be in a bar. He was about to get up 
when the bartender gave him a look that suggested that he should 
mind his own business. Victor sat back and watched. It took him a 
minute to recognize that it was the young man who sold flowers on 
the corner.

The young man was carrying a bouquet of flowers. Setting it on 
the bar, he took a seat and, pounding a fist on the bar, said, 
"Bartender, I'll have my regular."

The grizzled old bartender reached down into a cooler and pulled 
out a frosted beer mug. Setting it on the bar, he said, "You're early 
tonight."

"That's right," the young man said with a smile.

Reaching into the beer cooler, the bartender pulled out a bottle and 
removed the cap with a bottle opener. After filling the mug, he set 
the bottle on the bar. From his position, it took Victor a couple of 
seconds to realize that it was a bottle of root beer. The bartender 
slid the mug over to the young man and asked, "Who's watching 
your corner?"

"I turned the business over to my little brother," the young man 
answered. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a wad of 
bills. He counted out three hundred dollars and slid the stack of 
bills across the bar. Returning the rest of the money to his pants 
pocket, he said, "Here's the last payment."

The bartender picked up the money and counted it; making an 
authoritative snap each time he transferred the bills from one hand 
to the other. Satisfied that it was the amount he was expecting, he 
went over to the cash register and picked up an envelope. He 
carried it back to the young man and said, "Here's the title to your 
car. I signed off on it and it is yours free and clear."

"Thanks," the young man said slipping it into his shirt pocket. It 
had taken two years of selling flowers on the street corner, but he 
had finally paid off the car. It felt good.

The old man reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a check. 
Handing it to the young man, he said, "Here's every dime you paid 
me for that car plus a little."

"What's this for?"

"You're going off to college tomorrow. I thought you could use a 
little extra money," the grizzled old man answered. He rubbed his 
face as if uncomfortable with the question.

"I don't want your money," the young man said holding up his 
hands in a gesture of rejection.

"Take it. You're going to need books and stuff while you're at 
school. You just might find a girl there and you'll want to take her 
on a real date," the old man said. He glanced down the bar and saw 
that Victor was watching the exchange and nodding his head.

"How about a little advice instead?"

"I'm always willing to give you advice. What kind do you want?" 

The young man thought for a second and then asked, "How can I 
be successful?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"So tell me anyway. Maybe I don't know as much as you think I 
do."

"Success comes from being in the game for the long haul and 
knowing where you want to be at the end. You have to take care of 
the little details without ever over reaching yourself. Consistent 
small steps taken in the direction you want to go will take you to 
your destination faster than unplanned large steps," the grizzled 
bartender said. 

"I didn't know that."

The grizzled old man wiped down the bar and, in a gruff voice, 
said, "Sure you did. You went out to that corner and sold flowers 
every day regardless of the weather. You smiled and talked nicely 
to every customer. You made sure that your stock was fresh and 
attractive. That tells me that you took care of the details. You built 
up a good sized customer base that allowed you to pay off that car 
and have some folding money in your pocket. That was your goal 
and you met it. That's success, boy."

The young man nodded and took a sip of his drink. Not only had 
he paid off the car and had some spending money, he had also 
socked away a significant amount in his savings account. He 
asked, "How can I be happy?"

"That's a good question. I'd say that happy people are a lot rarer 
than successful people. It's hard to believe since achieving 
happiness is a whole lot less work," the old man answered. 

The young man waited to hear the secret of finding happiness. 
Allowing the suspense to build, the bartender fixed another frosted 
mug of root beer and then took a sip of it while considering his 
answer. Leaning forward, the young man asked, "So what is the 
secret?"

Setting the mug down on the counter, the bartender said, "I guess 
the key to being happy is having the right habit."

"The right habit?" the young man asked looking surprised. That 
was the last thing that he expected.

"Yes. Every day you need to take a couple of minutes to appreciate 
all of the people in your life. I'm talking friends, family, 
acquaintances, and even those strangers who smile at you and wish 
you a nice day. Think about them and the little things they do for 
you that help make your life a little better. If you do that every day, 
then one morning you'll wake up and realize that you're a happy 
man."

The young man was quiet while he considered the advice. After a 
minute he nodded his head and said, "I think you're right."

"Do you want any other advice from this old man?"

"I'll take all you can give," the young man answered. 

"Take care of yourself and those around you. Live the good life 
and don't hate anyone," the old man said. He took a sip of his root 
beer and looked over at the young man with fondness evident on 
his face. He added, "Life will throw some curves at you, but if you 
have a good foundation then you'll get through the tough times."

"Good advice."

"Don't forget that you have a family that will help you when things 
get too much for you," the old man said. He took another sip of his 
root beer and watched the young man over the rim of the glass.

"Thanks. I'll remember that," the young man said realizing that it 
was getting late and he had a lot of things to do. He drained his 
root beer and set down the glass. He said, "I'm going to miss you, 
old man."

Wanting to deflect the emotions he was feeling, the old man 
pointed to the bouquet of flowers and, knowing the answer, asked, 
"Did you bring those flowers for me?"

The young man laughed at the suggestion and grinned at the 
bartender. Shaking his head, he said, "No, they're for 
grandmother."

"Take your check and give them flowers to your grandmother. I'm 
sure that you've got a thousand things to do before you head off to 
college in the morning," the grizzled bartender said in a gruff 
voice. He knew the young man was going to be busy saying 
goodbye to his friends and his parents. For the next four years, he 
was going to be busy putting in place a foundation for the future.

"Thanks," the young man said. He picked up the check and put it 
into his pocket. Rather than head towards the door, the young man 
slipped around the end of the counter. Hugging the old man, he 
said, "I love you, old man."

"I love you too, boy. Make us proud," the old man said. He wiped 
his eyes and watched as the boy made his way towards the door at 
the back of the bar. It was only then that Victor realized the 
bartender lived above the bar.

"I will."

"Let your mother know that I'm thinking of her," the old man said. 

"I will, Grandpa," the young man said just before slipping through 
the door and up the stairway to the second floor of the building. 
The request to give his regards to his mother was a given of every 
visit with his grandfather. There was a story there, but neither his 
mother nor his grandfather would talk about it.

The old man wiped his eyes after the boy left the bar. He picked up 
the empty mugs and started to wash them; appreciating having 
something to do with his hands. After putting the mugs in the 
cooler, he picked up the rag and wiped down the bar with a 
thoughtful expression on his face. Aloud, he said, "Life is good."

---

Greg sat in his living room and hit the enter key on his new 
computer. The last of the bills was paid. It had taken him thirty 
minutes to do what used to take him two hours. With a smile, he 
looked at the balance in his check book. It was the highest balance 
after paying off the bills that he could ever recall. He shut down 
the program and wandered out of his den with a satisfied smile on 
his face.

Sharon saw him and said, "I'm heading to the bedroom. Wait five 
minutes before coming in."

"Okay," Greg said wondering what surprise she had in mind for 
him. To use up some of the time, he went around the house 
checking the doors to make sure that all of them were locked. 
Harry was spending the night with Lisa. Sam was spending the 
night with Cathy. 

After five minutes, he went into the bedroom. The bathroom door 
was closed and he could hear his wife moving around in it. All of 
the wigs were on the forms, so he decided that a little role playing 
was out. Curious, he decided to undress and wait for her. 

He had just thrown his boxers into the hamper when the bathroom 
door opened. He turned to look at his wife surprised at her outfit. 
She stood at the door wearing a multi-colored wig, a short skirt, 
and a see-through top. Chewing a piece of gum in an exaggerated 
manner, she said, "My name is Sindy. That's Sindy spelled with an 
`S.' Your wife hired me to entertain you for the evening."

"Hello Sindy," Greg said with a smile. 

"Your wife said that you've always wanted a lap dance," she said.

"She's right," Greg said grinning from ear to ear. 

"Have a seat on that chair over there," she said gesturing to the 
chair she used when putting on her makeup.

While he went over to the chair, his wife reached over and turned 
on a CD player. Loud music with a driving beat filled the room. 
She started gyrating while walking towards him. For a second, he 
thought about the changes that had occurred in his life over the 
course of the summer. When his wife started rubbing herself on his 
leg, he thought, `Life is good.'

---

Jack sat down in his chair in the room that had become known as 
the Rabbit Warren. He noticed something that looked a lot like a 
magazine on the table next to his chair. He picked it up and noticed 
that a picture of June graced the cover. The title of the magazine 
was `Bunny.' He studied the cover feeling his heart beating rapidly 
in his chest.

There were five stars under the name of the magazine. He recalled 
the rumor that the number of stars on the cover of the magazine 
indicated how many times Hugh Hefner had slept with the 
playmate of the month. He opened the magazine and saw that he 
was listed as the publisher. He grinned at the five stars on the 
cover; he had sex with her five times while taking the pictures that 
he knew were in the magazine.

Far more excited than she had expected, June slipped into the 
room. Jack was so engrossed in looking at the magazine that he 
didn't even look up. She whispered, "Let me watch you read your 
magazine."

"Ah, this magazine looks like it has some wonderful articles in it," 
Jack said with a grin. He knew that she knew he didn't read the 
magazine for the articles.

Settling on the daybed, she adjusted herself so that she was posed 
just like in the picture on the cover to the magazine. In a hot sultry 
voice, she said, "I want to watch."

Knowing what she wanted to watch, he stood up while he put the 
magazine on the table next to his chair. He dropped his pants 
around his ankles and then stepped out of the pants. A minute later, 
his boxers joined his pants on the floor and he took a moment to 
look at his wife. 

It was obvious that she was extremely excited. Licking her lips, 
she watched him with wide eyes while he sat down and picked up 
the magazine. He opened it to the first article and was amazed that 
she had actually filled it with real articles such as one would find 
in Playboy. 

June watched Jack and noticed his surprise on seeing the article. 
She had worked many hours to make it as much like a Playboy 
magazine as she could. That included printing it out on shiny paper 
like the magazine stock. She had even taped together three sheets 
of paper to create a centerfold. She shivered in anticipation of his 
looking at her pictures. Some women might not like the idea of 
millions of men jacking off to a naked picture of them, but she was 
excited by that thought. Watching Jack was as close to that 
happening as was possible.

After skipping the first article, Jack came to a pictorial of his wife. 
The picture looked just like one out of Playboy. His cock turned 
steel hard. Looking at the picture, his hand slipped down to stroke 
his erection. He thought, `Life is good.'

---

George finished putting the boys to bed and returned to the living 
room with a large grin on his face. After years of living on the 
road, it was hard to believe that he had been at home for almost 
three solid weeks. He felt ten years younger.

Cindy, wearing a transparent robe, was waiting for him with her 
legs curled up under her body. She had been losing weight and 
looked very good. The weight had dropped from her waist, legs, 
and butt. Her breasts, though, were still large. He looked over at 
her thinking that she had never looked that good.

Looking up at her husband, Cindy smiled at the expression on his 
face. She said, "A penny for your thoughts."

"Just thinking about how happy I am," George said sitting down in 
his chair. 

After years of having an absentee husband, Cindy was happy to 
have him at home. He had fixed everything around the house; 
nothing was broken. She had time to herself. She smiled and said, 
"I'm happy too."

"I'm glad," George said.

"Do you know what I like the most about having you at home?"

"Having some time to yourself?" George asked as an answer.

"No. I like having you make love to me," she answered with a 
smile. Honesty forced her to admit that it was close call between 
his answer and her answer. A Saturday afternoon spent in a nice 
hot bubble bath while he was entertaining the boys was almost as 
good as sex.

George nodded his head and wondered what they were doing 
sitting around the living room when they could be in the bedroom. 
Almost as if she was reading his mind, she asked, "What are we 
doing out here?"

"I don't know," George answered standing up. He took his wife's 
hand and helped her out of her chair. Together, holding hands like 
teenagers, they walked down the hallway to their bedroom. As they 
entered the bedroom, he thought, `Life is good.'

---

A very happy Ted entered the house and locked the door behind 
him. When Ted reached the living room, Daryl asked, "So how 
was your date with Amy?"

"Wonderful," Ted answered. They had eaten in the mall and then 
gone to a movie. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what he 
ate or what movie he had watched. All that he remembered of the 
date was staring into Amy's eyes and the wonderful feeling of 
holding his arm around her during the movie.

"What did you do?"

"We ate and then went to a movie," Ted answered. Her father had 
picked them up outside the mall, but not before they had spent a 
good ten minutes necking in a quiet corner outside of the theater. 

"It's late. You probably ought to head to bed," Daryl said glancing 
over at the clock. He looked down at his bowl of vanilla ice cream 
and dug out another spoonful. Shirley was waiting for him in the 
bedroom and he didn't want to keep her waiting too long.

"Good night, Dad," Ted said heading towards his bedroom. As he 
walked, he thought about how the summer had started. He had 
been attacked by a serial murderer. As a result of that attack, he 
had retreated to his room isolating himself from everything and his 
parents had nearly divorced. By the time summer had ended, he 
had emerged from his shell and found a girl friend. His parents had 
patched up their relationship and it seemed better than ever. He 
thought to himself, `Life is good.'

After finishing his ice cream, Daryl put the empty bowl in the sink 
and headed towards the bedroom. Upon entering the bedroom, he 
closed the door and studied his wife. She was lying on the bed 
completely naked and watching him with a seductive smile on her 
face. The sight of his wife took his breath away. He said, "Ted's 
home and has gone to bed."

"Good. Now come to bed," she said patting a spot beside her while 
holding up a book in her other hand.

"What have you got in mind?" he asked seeing the book in her 
hand. He knew that a new adventure waited for him that evening. 
He approached the bed while dropping his robe.

"I was thinking about sucking your cock while you eat me," she 
answered. She held up the book on sexual positions and pointed to 
a picture of a couple engaged in sixty-nine. She glanced at the page 
and said, "It is called sixty-nine."

"That sounds like fun," he said slipping into bed. 

"I'm going to swallow," she said with a giggle.

Lying down so that she would be on top, Daryl thought, `Life is 
good.'

.oOo.

Life is good. That doesn't mean that life won't throw you some 
curves. There will be good and bad times. Maybe the secret to a 
happy life is little more than adopting the right habit and living a 
different sort of lifestyle.

The End
<1st attachment end>


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