Message-ID: <2391eli$9707291842@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/2391.txt>
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Subject: Repost TG: Alex's Story    by Lisa Paige  (2/4)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <5rll90$jt3@nienor.in-berlin.de>


Hi.

  A story about a young fellow who had a deal with his mother, which
is more careing as he had thought before.

  As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.

  If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.

Enjoy the story.

Ciao
	Nostrumo

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

2___Alex's_Story___________________________________________by_Lisa_Paige_



to another shopping date.

I had a hard time throwing dinner together before Mom got home, but the good
mood I was in survived even that.  Strangely, Mom didn't comment on the
chores I hadn't done, and she even complimented me on the meal.  In a
conversational tone she asked me what I had done that day, and I told her
that I had gone browsing with Betty in the mall.  I held my breath, trying
to think of what Mom might ask, and how I would respond.  Thankfully, she
just commented on how nice Betty was to be so helpful, then she began
talking about how busy she was going to be in the next few days.  It was the
first normal conversation we'd had in days.  That, and a good night's sleep,
became a turning point for me.  I actually found myself humming a little
tune the next morning as I brushed my hair back above my ears and fastened
it into a Chignon.  Over breakfast I apologized to Mom for being so surly,
and she apologized to me for being so hard-nosed about our deal.  She didn't
offer to change any of her rules, of course, but she did ease up on the list
of chores.  We shared a real hug and a kiss, our first in ages, before she
had to rush off.

After she left I went into her room and sat at her dresser to take my hair
down.  As I was brushing it out I glanced down and saw a tube of her
lipstick.  A powerful urge seemed to sweep over me, and I opened the tube
and looked into the mirror.  I parted my lips as I had the day before, and
spread the pomade over my upper lip.  As I rubbed my lips together that
strong, sweet taste, a little different than before, flooded my senses.  I
dashed a little on my cheeks, then smudged them just as Betty had done.
Looking down again, I found one of Mom's eye shadows and wiped the pad
across each eyelid in turn.  Next I decided to be really brave, and I opened
Mom's mascara.  I poked my eye twice and had to clean up several smears, but
I kept at it until both lashes were coated black.  Betty had used brown on
me the day before, but I couldn't be picky.  Satisfied with my makeup job, I
swept my hair back and held it up to the crown, making a kissing face at the
mirror.  Then I smiled at myself as I realized that I could really do this.
I brushed my hair back over my ears, wrapped it in an elastic , then twisted
it and replaced the chignon cover I had removed only minutes before.
Betty's niece was back - almost.  A thought flashed through my mind:  what
if Betty had suggested I try something on yesterday?  Would I have done it?
Would she suggest it next week when we went shopping again?  Would I be
brave enough to say yes?  How could I wait until then?



  Now I was almost like a robot.  I didn't let myself think about past
promises as I began opening Mom's drawers and searching through her
lingerie.  I found one of her half-slips and rubbed it against my face as I
had done so many times before.  Still not allowing myself to think about
what I was doing, I took off all my clothes and dropped them in a pile.  I
took out a pair of Mom's panties and pulled then on, then stepped into the
half slip.  Trying to put on a bra was very frustrating, but I told myself I
had all day if necessary.  Finally I got it snapped behind my back and
adjusted pretty well.

Not allowing myself to look in the mirror yet, I went to Mom's closet.  I
had the run of the house and it was several hours till Mom came home!  I
felt so free and light!  I selected a gray pleated skirt and a white blouse
with ruffled sleeves.  Even though the buttons were in the front, I realized
they were on the wrong side, and they took a couple of extra minutes to
fasten.  Now I examined myself in the mirror, wondering if I looked as good
as I felt.  I hugged myself and felt the wonderful silky fabric against my
skin.

When I put my arms down I noticed that the blouse didn't look that good with
the empty brassiere underneath.  I went to Mom's lingerie drawer again and
found several pair of stockings to stuff into the bra cups.  I rebuttoned my
blouse, then held up one of the pairs of pantyhose.  As I stood there wonder
if I dared risk it, the doorbell rang.

I froze in my tracks.  What could I do?  Someone would see me!  The bell
rang again before I realized that this was my house and all I had to do was
to wait until they left.  I tiptoed out to the front door and peeked th
rough a side window.  There was a delivery boy standing there balancing a
package and a clipboard.  I waited for him to leave, but he rang the bell
again and just stood there, then knocked loudly.  I waited impatiently,
almost angrily for a few more seconds.  Why didn't the dummy just leave?
Then a devilish thought entered my mind.  I had fooled a bunch of women
yesterday:  could I pass myself off on this young guy?  I stepped back to
the doorway, and as he knocked the second time I swung open the door.  A
breeze hit my bare legs and found itself up my skirt, giving me goose bumps
all over.  I put my hand over my chest, feigning a hoarse voice, and
whispered "Yes?" I think the door handle was the only thing preventing me
from falling down in a faint at this point.

"Mrs.  Anderson?" the boy asked.  Now maybe I looked like a girl, but there
was no way I looked like a "Mrs." This guy must be really dumb.  I looked at
the package that he held up and saw the street number on the label.



  "Three doors down." I whispered.

"Huh?"



  How could I get so irritated by a person in such a short amount of time?
I cleared my throat and used my real voice.  "The Andersons live three doors
down." I said loudly, then shut the door in his face as he dropped his
clipboard.

Had he realized I was a guy, or had he just been clumsy?  I peeked out the
window again to see him picking up his clipboard.  As he turned and started
down the steps he muttered what sounded like "Nice Pillows." It took me a
couple of seconds, then I looked down at my chest and burst into a fit of
giggles.  I had been a little too generous with the stockings in my bra
cups:  I must have looked like a double "D" to that delivery boy.  I went
back into Mom's room and adjusted my bustline, then decided against actually
wearing Mom's pantyhose - too risky to chance a run or a snag.

I spent the rest of the day in Mom's clothes, doing my chores and freshening
my makeup and hairdo from time to time.  About an hour before she was due
back I carefully replaced all her clothes, then scrubbed my face for several
minutes to remove all the makeup.  Giving in to my impulses one more time, I
returned to Mom's room and retrieved an old babydoll nightie from the back
of her lingerie drawer.  I hid it under my pillow then went in and made
dinner.

Mom again complimented me on dinner, then commented on how well I was doing
with my hair.  We talked about some of the tricks Betty had shown me, and it
turned into a really pleasant conversation on hairstyles and fashion.

That night after Mom went to bed I took off my pajamas and replaced them
with the Babydolls.  I had no idea what I was doing or why, but it felt
really good - maybe like I was closer to my Mom in some way.  I thought
about the conversation we'd had, and how good it was to be on speaking terms
again.  I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Saturday and Sunday were both full of chores, it seemed.  Somewhere our
conversation turned again to hairstyles, and Mom asked me if I had chosen
another style for Monday's appointment.  Before I realized how odd it was, I
found us sitting on the sofa together looking through one of Mom's
magazines.  First we talked about hairstyles, then the conversation turned
to fashion, then women's issues.  Mom told me some of the things she had
gone through at her past job.  We even talked a little about the divorce.
Sunday night I fell asleep thinking that Mom's new rules were turning out
better than I could have ever imagined.



Alex's Second "Do"


Monday afternoon I had my hair up in the now-familiar chignon, and I was
waiting for Mom on our porch when she drove up.  This time Mom came into
Betty's shop with me.

"Hi, Alex, hi, Liz.  It's good to see you both.  Does this mean you're back
on speaking terms?" Betty's good-natured smile showed she was teasing both
of us.  She took one of the albums off her shelf.  "Here, Alex, why don't
you look through this and see if you can find a style you like."

"Oh, we've already taken care of that, haven't we, Alex?" Mom interjected.

I blushed a little as I nodded in response and pointed to the picture in the
magazine I had brought.

"Oh, the Gibson Girl!  That will be perfect!  Very sophisticated, but also
very easy to put up and take down."

"Do you think you'll need to give him a body perm, Betty?"

Mom had said nothing about that when we had selected the style.  I crinkled
my nose at Betty.

"Hmm, it could be, but we'll try it first with a little extra setting gel
and see how that works, okay?"

"Okay, then, I'll leave him in your hands, and I'll see you in a while."

As Mom walked out the door I settled into the shampoo chair and Betty began
her routine.  Again she had me do most of the curlers, and by this time I
was pretty good at it.  She just had to explain the setting pattern to me,
and I was able to do most of the rest.  She was very impressed.  Betty gave
me another manicure while I was under the dryer, and this time I accepted
her offer of a clear coat of polish on my nails.  When my hair was dry Betty
combed it out and began the process of back-combing each section, then
pinning it up until it was all pinned together at the top of my head.  We
had a few minutes to chat here and there, but Betty took most of the time
teaching.  She demonstrated how to get just the right fullness around the
sides and form a smooth bun of the remaining hair.  As I was admiring our
handiwork in the mirror, Betty took a little hook and began pulling out
strands of hair at my temples and the nape of my neck.

"Betty, we really don't have to go that far, do we?" I asked half-heartedly.
"I'm not planning to show this off anywhere, you know." I realized that she
was doing those wispy little curled tendrils that were a part of the hairdo
in the magazine photo.

"Oh, I'm just trying to give you and your Mom your money's worth, Alex.
It's these little finishing touches that set off a professional hairdo from
a homemade job." She smiled and winked at me in the mirror.  "Besides, I
thought maybe you'd want to do a little showing off when we go shopping
together this week."

Her reference to our upcoming shopping trip caused my stomach to do a
flip-flop.  Last week had been so much fun just browsing through the Woman's
departments, but how far would she expect me to go this time?  The thoughts
of what we might be doing caused me to fall silent for the few moments it
took Betty to finish curling the tendrils.  The result was very
professional-looking indeed, and we took several minutes to admire the
finished product in the mirror.  A little voice in the back of my mind told
me I shouldn't be getting this much enjoyment out of making my hair look so
feminine, but I couldn't help myself.

Next Betty had me practice twice taking the whole thing down, brushing it
out, then back-combing the sections and reconstructing the style from the
beginning.  She was very complimentary of my abilities, and the second time
she was satisfied enough to call it quits.  Mom walked in just as I was
putting the final gust of spray on my hair.  Betty insisted that I do the
tendrils again.  While Mom and she watched, I used the small hook to pull
out two strands at each temple then curled them with my little finger and
spritzed them with hair spray.  I repeated the process at the nape of my
neck as well.  I was embarrassed for Mom to see me adding such a feminine
touch to my hairdo, and to make it worse, she noticed the clear polish on my
fingers.

"I see you did his nails too.  Betty, you do such a professional job, and it
really does make his hands look nice.  I'll have to come in and let you do
mine some time soon." As she talked, she was looking around at all the
changes in Betty's salon.  "My, you really have expanded, haven't you?  What
is that table next to your manicure station?"

"Oh, that's my cosmetology setup.  I was telling Alex that I've just
finished my last class in cosmetology.  All I have to do for certification
is ten hours of practical work.  I'm going to offer ten of my customers a
free makeover with any cosmetics purchase.  That should do the trick, and it
will start to bring in a lot of extra revenue."

"I could really use some help on updating my look.  Maybe I'll come back
when you have some time and try to be one of the lucky ten."

"Actually, I have some time right now, if you'd like.  And for my two
favorite people, I'll not only do your makeovers free, I'll give you two for
the price of one on all your makeup."

"Betty, that's so sweet of you!  What do you think, Alex?  We don't have
anything else planned for tonight, do we?" She asked it casually as she
patted an imaginary hair into place above my ear.  I had been so absorbed
looking at my new hairdo in the mirror that I hadn't actually been
listening.  Was she actually suggesting that I get my makeup done along with
hers?  I glanced at Betty and she was looking right at me with a knowing
smile.  After our adventure the previous week I couldn't very well pretend
that I wasn't interested in wearing makeup.  On top of that, it was actually
Mom who was suggesting it --but did she really mean that she wanted me to
get a real makeover?  I swallowed real hard and tried to be non-committal:
"Uh, I can't think of anything we had planned."

Both women broke into big smiles.  Mom grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze
as Betty led us to her makeup table.  Over my half-hearted protest, they
decided that I should go first.  Betty put one of her pink smocks around my
neck and pinned the tendrils of hair away from my face.  "We start with the
eyebrows first - they help frame the face and define everything else we do.
Liz, to move a little faster we'll each do a side.  You take these tweezers
and follow what I do over here on the left."

I was certainly not expecting to get my eyebrows plucked, but I figured
they'd only be doing a few stray hairs.  Betty started out that way, by
doing a little, then Mom would follow.  I began to get concerned, though,
because they kept at it.  When it seemed as if they were finally through,
Betty would tweeze just a little more "to get it even." Then Mom would have
to do a little on the other side.  When they finally finished and sat back
to take a look, I gasped.

Where my rather full eyebrows used to be, there were now two very thin
arched lines high above my eyes.  It seemed to have changed my face
completely, and I was hit with the exciting and terrible realization that I
had very clearly crossed a line.  Without even a touch of makeup I now had a
girl's face.  I was suddenly sure that, until my eyebrows grew back, I
didn't have to worry about passing as a girl:  I probably couldn't pass as a
BOY. I probably should have gotten angry, or at least protested a little,
but I was too stunned.  Besides, it was already done, and a part of me was
really excited by what I was seeing in the mirror.

Mom and Betty seemed not to notice my surprise and didn't even ask me what I
thought.  Betty stroked a pencil across what was left of my eyebrows.  "Now
we'd be very conservative on the makeup for daytime, especially for Alex,
but let's do a full "nighttime" makeover for each of you - then you'll see
the full effect of the colors we chose." Without waiting for a response from
either of us, Betty selected a dark shade of brown to line both my upper and
lower lids, extending the line out past the corners in kind of a delta.
They began selecting the colors for my eye shadow and they drew me into the
conversation as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  I tried to
go along with the mood and I expressed some preferences, but every time the
mirror caught my eye my chest would draw a little tighter.  With every
stroke of those makeup brushes I was becoming a different person - a
different and very pretty person.

They did my eyelids in three colors of shadow, then applied a cream blush to
my cheeks and a red pencil and brush to my lips.  By the time they had
finished with my lipstick I could hardly breathe.  They leaned back to give
me a full view of the mirror and asked me what I thought.  In truth, what I
saw in the mirror was beautiful - but how could that delightfully pretty
feminine face belong to me?  I hesitated for a moment and put my hand to my
face, just to be sure it really was me.  I finally picked what I thought was
a comment that covered my real thoughts:  "Uh, maybe just a shade lighter
lipstick, don't you think?" Betty agreed with this observation, so I wiped
off my lips with a tissue, and Betty lined and brushed my lips a second
time.  Betty pulled the hairpins from the tendrils and adjusted them over my
forehead, then the two ladies spent several minutes turning me back and
forth, admiring their handiwork and paying me all sorts of compliments on my
appearance.  I was too fascinated with my own image to know how to respond,
so to draw the focus away from me I guided Mom to the makeup stool.  "Your
turn now, Mom, and I get to help Betty this time."

That seemed to be all it took, and we were soon gaily conspiring over color
selections for Mom's eyes and lips.  It surprised me that they took some of
my suggestions on colors and shades, and it seemed to make a difference.
When we were finished, Mom looked ten years younger!  It had been a long
time since I had paid her a compliment, and when I told her how pretty she
looked she got tears in her eyes and gave me a big hug.  "So do you,
sweetheart." She whispered sincerely.  I suppose I should have been
appalled, or at least offended, but somehow I was pleased instead:  my
appearance seemed to be affecting all my reactions.

Betty put all our samples in two little zippered cosmetics bags, then rang
up the extra lipsticks and shadows Mom had purchased.  I couldn't help
noticing that at least some of those colors were my shades and not hers.
What did that mean, exactly?  Or did she like them so much that she was just
planning to try them out on herself?  We both thanked Betty and went out to
the car.  In the darkness of the late evening it never occurred to me to be
concerned about my appearance until Mom suggested that we stop at a drive-in
for dinner.

"Mom, I can't go anywhere looking like this.  What would people say?  What
if I saw someone I knew?" As I said this, I remembered my outing with Betty
just a few days before.  That feeling of excitement was back, but I had done
that with Betty, not with my own Mom.

"My dear, at a drive-in people will only see your face and the top of your
shirt.  The way you look right now, the only notice you will attract will be
as a very pretty young lady.  And as for meeting any of the snobs at that
school, I'd be surprised if they would notice anyone but themselves.
Really, though, sweetheart, if you get to feeling the least bit
uncomfortable, we'll leave right away, I promise." That assurance made me
feel more comfortable and let the excitement take over.  What did I have to
lose?

"What can I get you ladies tonight?" The cheery greeting sent a feeling of
relief and a little thrill through me.  The carhop, at least, had not the
slightest confusion over my appearance.  We ordered our burgers and malts
and the guy left.  "How are you feeling so far?" Mom asked.

"Pretty good, I guess.  We sure fooled him."

"I think you'll find that a common experience.  Not to change the subject,
but I think you were right about your lipstick.  That shade gives you just
the right look, even in these neon lights." I blushed and was trying to
think of an offhand response, but she went on.  "You were right about my eye
shadow too.  I think you have a real eye for this sort of thing."

Now I knew she was teasing.  "Oh, cut it out, Mom."

"I'm not teasing, sweetheart, I'm serious, and Betty said the same thing.
Some people just have an eye for colors and textures, and you're one of
them.  It's simply a talent that you have.  And while we're on the subject,
you seem to be doing pretty well on your hairstyling also.  That's almost a
professional job you have there."

She seemed to be sincere, and I was somehow both pleased and embarrassed at
the compliment.  "Uh, thanks, Mom, I guess Betty's a pretty good teacher -
she makes everything so easy and fun."

"Well, she tells me that you've been a very good student.  By the way, I
found another magazine tonight that has some good hairstyles, would you like
to look at it while we're waiting for our food?"

We spent the next few minutes looking through the magazine and comparing our
views on hairstyles and makeup.  Somewhere along the way I realized that I
was really kind of interested in this stuff, and that I did seem to have a
knack for it.  Our conversation was fun, and it continued as we ate our
food.  I got a little thrill when I looked down and saw my straw and my
napkin marked with traces of lipstick, just like Mom's.  When we had
finished, Mom wiped her lips and then took out a new tube of lipstick.  I
watched fascinated as she opened a compact mirror and began to apply the
color.  She noticed that I was staring at her, and she nodded toward my
makeup bag.  "Go ahead, sweetheart, yours needs a little touch up too."

As she spoke, she twisted the rear view mirror so that I could see my face
in it.  It was an electrifying moment for me.  I selected a tube from my
makeup bag and took the top off.  As I twisted the base I looked into the
mirror, then lifted the tube to my lips.  As that full, fragrant taste
entered my senses for now the fourth time, I knew that I wanted to do this
all the time.  I loved the smell and the taste and the velvety smooth feel
of the pomade, and I loved seeing the bright color on my lips.  Mom seemed
to sense the feelings I was having, and she smiled and gave me a quick hug.

"It is kind of fun, isn't it!"

All my inhibitions were defeated for the moment.  I smiled at her and nodded
my agreement.  As I took a second look in the mirror, I suddenly froze.
There was a car pulling in next to ours, and who should be driving but Pat,
with Jennifer in the front seat!

I sank down as low as I could in my seat and pleaded with Mom to get us out
of there.  Fortunately, the carhop had just come up to take the tray, so Mom
started the engine immediately and hurried out of the parking lot.  The way
I was sitting, I couldn't tell whether Pat and Jennifer had seen me or not,
and I didn't dare sit up to take a look.  How foolish could I have been?
Probably the only two girls in the whole town who had even given me the time
of day, and now that might all be ruined.  Those girls didn't exactly have a
reputation for discretion, either.  This could get all over town in a hurry.
Whatever small hope I might have had for a normal existence in this town was
now ruined.  I was disgusted with myself and angry at Mom for forcing me
into all this.

Mom made a couple of tries at conversation while she was driving, but I made
no reply.  Suddenly she pulled to the side of the road and turned off the
engine.

"Look, Alex," She said, turning in the seat to face me, "I know you're very
upset, but I think it's time to get a few things out in the open.  First,
you need to know that I've been aware of your, uh, interest in my lingerie
for quite some time."

My jaw must have dropped a couple of feet.  How could she have known?  Had I
left some things out, or had she seen me?  It had been months - well, at
least weeks since I had - well, except for this week, of course.  What was
she going to do to me?

"Now don't be frightened.  I'm not angry with you or anything.  As I said,
I've known about it for quite some time, but I figured if I had asked you
about it you'd just deny it.  Am I right?" I looked at the floor and nodded
my head.  "Anyway, I talked to my counselor about it ...."

I almost fainted.  She had told other people about this?  Especially that
goofball of a shrink she called her 'counselor.'



  "...  and she said it was not that rare for a boy to be interested in
feminine things.  Granted, it's not the most common thing in the world, but
you aren't the only one with these feelings by a long shot.  Anyway, Betty
and I talked about it for a while, then..."

Suddenly I felt physically ill.  Betty knew about my ...interest?  But then,
she seemed to ...  the light suddenly dawned.  "Wait a minute, Mother.  You
mean you set me up?  You and Betty and that goofball shrink of yours set me
up!?"

"Calm down, sweetheart.  As for Doctor Harris, I haven't really talked to
her since we moved, but yes, Betty and I did sort of plan this as a ...
well, we wanted to see how far you'd be willing to go.  I was pretty sure
you wouldn't have agreed or even admitted anything if we had just ...  if we
hadn't devised this little 'incentive.'  But admit it, now, it has been sort
of fun, hasn't it?"

"Fun!!!?" I yelled "You ..." Mom held up her hand - her special signal to me
that I needed to lower my voice and think hard before I spoke.  I swallowed
my words and just sat glaring at her for a couple of minutes.  How could she
have tricked me like this?

Then I began to think about last week's outing with Betty, and the last
couple of days talking with Mom, and tonight's session at the Salon.  I had
to admit to myself that I really had been enjoying myself.  There was a
peace, and a friendship even, that I hadn't felt in a long time, maybe never
before.  It was all very confusing.  On the one hand I was very ashamed of
what I'd been doing, and I knew I should be angry with Mom for her tricks.
On the other hand, I really couldn't deny the feelings of fun and friendship
I was having with Betty and with Mom, and I desperately didn't want to loose
those feelings.  Suddenly I just broke down in big sobs and hid my face in
my hands.

Mom put her arms around me and hugged me.  For a long time, as I sobbed, she
just held and stroked me and whispered comforting words to me.  Finally I
returned to some kind of control, and Mom handed me several tissues to clean
myself up.  As I blew my nose and wiped my eyes, she began to speak.

"I know this is very hard for you sweetheart:  it's difficult for me too.
But I think that this can be a very important and enjoyable time for both of
us.  Your feelings are out in the open, now, and I need to lay mine out
also.  I was very concerned when I first began to suspect your----
interests, but I've done a lot of thinking and reading, as well as my talks
with Betty and Doctor Harris, and now I see some real positive things that
we might explore."

Suddenly I felt something other than shame or confusion, and I looked up at
my Mom to see her smiling at me.

"Our activity at Betty's tonight, and your little trip with her last week -
yes, she told me all about it - shows me that you have a real interest in
--- feminine things.  Am I right?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"We've had so much fun over these last few days, and seeing you tonight as a
--- as pretty as you look with your hair styled your makeup done --- I see
that you really have a lot of potential.  If you want to explore that side
of yourself, Sweetheart, I want to help you.  Do you think it's something we
can share?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, exactly, but it felt really good to hear her
say it.  "Mom, I really don't know what this is all about or what I really
want, but it feels good to think that you might help me---.  I'm so confused
---." I couldn't find the words, but Mom interceded.

"I know you have a lot of feelings to sort out, and I hope you will let me
help you do that, too - I'll listen any time you want to just talk.  But at
the same time, I don't see why we shouldn't have some fun with this.
Whenever you feel you want to look pretty, whether it's hair or clothes or
makeup, let's just do it, and we can talk about it along the way.  We have
the whole summer to use if we want it, and it won't be hurting anyone that I
can see.  It would be a special joy for me to share some 'girl things' with
you.  Besides," she chuckled, "I've always thought you were too cute to be
'just another guy'."

She hugged me again as she said this, and I chuckled along with her.  When I
looked into her eyes, I could see that she had been crying as well.  We
dabbed at the each other's eyes in a vain attempt to clean the mascara off
our faces and ended up laughing and crying at the same time.

The rest of the way home we talked about what we'd do if Jennifer and Pat
had seen me.  Mom pointed out that if they were true friends, things would
work themselves out.  If not, it would be up to her and me to face things
together, and deal with any gossip or other problems as they came up.  It
felt so good to be able to talk to Mom about everything.  I determined right
then to be fully honest and open with all my feelings from then on.

When we got home Mom told me to go and change into my robe, then we'd meet
in her bedroom to clean off the rest of our makeup.  I took off my clothes
and began to step into my pajamas, then caught myself.  I quickly put my
PJ's back in my drawer and took the nightie from under my pillow:  it was
time for the first big test of our new "openness." Taking a few deep breaths
for courage, I put my robe over my arm and walked into Mom's bedroom wearing
her nightie.

Mom didn't seem to hesitate at all as a smile played across her lips.  "I
thought I was missing something out of my drawers.  You look very nice in
that, sweetheart, even if it is a little old and worn.  Tomorrow during
lunch I could buy you a nightgown of your own if you like?"

A little thrill passes through me as I nodded my head.  With that Mom had me
sit beside her at her vanity and she showed me how to use her special creams
to remove the makeup and moisturize my face.  She combed out my hair and
helped me put it up for the night, then I did the same for her.  It was one
of the best nights of my life.



Pat and Jennifer


I was exhausted by the emotions I had experienced, and I slept very soundly
that night.  By the time I got out of bed the next morning I could already
hear Mom moving around in the kitchen.  I hurried to take the curlers out of
my hair and get my hair styled before breakfast, but I only had two sections
pinned up before Mom knocked on my door.

"You don't have to bother putting your hair up this morning, sweetheart.  I
just remembered I have to be at work early today, so I'm headed out the
door.  You'll have to get your own breakfast.  Just do your regular chores,
and I'll see you tonight."

Just as I was opening my door to give Mom a hug, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it on my way out, honey.  You go ahead and get dressed."

On my way to my closet I hesitated in front of my mirror for a moment.  A
part of me still wanted to put my hair up and try some of my new makeup.  As
I stood there I heard Mom open the front door.

"Hi, Mrs.  Howell.  Is Alex here?  We need to talk to him."

My heart almost stopped as I recognized Pat's voice.  Surely Mom would
figure out some story and send them away - she was pretty quick on her
mental feet.

"Hi, Pat.  Hi, Jennifer, come on in - he's just getting dressed.  I have to
go, but he'll be out in just a minute.  Alex, honey," she called, "Pat and
Jennifer are here."

With that I heard the front door close.  I couldn't believe Mom would do
this to me - make me face Pat and Jen so soon after last night!  I grabbed
my pants off the bed and put them on, then threw a shirt over my nightie and
tucked it all in.  As I was trying desperately to button the shirt, I
glanced in my mirror and realized I still had the back of my hair pinned up.
Meanwhile, the girls weren't content to wait for me in the living room.
They pushed open my door just as I pulled the last pin out of my hair.

"Hey, Alex, we can't wait all day for you.  We have a real situation we need
to tell you about --- ." As Pat caught sight of me she stopped speaking and
just looked me up and down.  Jennifer pushed past her and came over to where
I was standing by the mirror.

"I told you that was Alex last night!" She exclaimed.  "Look, he still has
traces of mascara on his lashes - and look at his eyebrows!" She was almost
shouting.

I collapsed onto the bed and hid my face in my hands.  I knew the rest of my
life was over at this point.  Pat sat beside me on the bed and took my hands
in hers.  "I'm sure there's some kind of explanation for all this, Jennifer.
It's not really any of our business, I suppose, but - - - do you want to
tell us about it, Alex?"

I took some comfort in Pat's mild tone, and I tried my best over the next
few minutes to explain to the girls about my bargain with Mom and the trick
she had played on me.  Pat seemed to understand, but Jennifer just stood
there with a sarcastic look on her face the whole time.

When I fell silent for a moment she let out a disgusted sound.  "That all
sounds soooo innocent, but how do you explain this?" She pulled at a piece
of pink ruffle that was peeking out from under my shirt.  "I think our
little friend is a queer, Pat.  After the friendliness we showed him at
Seniors Night, too.  We'll never live it down.  Are you a queer, Alex?"

Strangely, Pat came to my defense.  "Jennifer, just back off a little, would
you?  How Alex dresses for bed is his own business after all - - - unless
you're planning to add him to your list of conquests?" I was stung a little
by the irony in her tone, though I sensed it was directed at Jennifer and
not at me.  "Besides, we need his help right now - or did you forget?"

Jennifer took a step back from me and sat down on a convenient chair.  Pat
continued to talk.  "Alex, we just got word that our boyfriends found out
about Seniors' Night at the park." This was not good news, but my mind
brought back images of that night that almost made me smile despite myself.
Jennifer, in particular, had been drinking a little, I think, and had become
particularly "friendly" in the later evening.

"You remember on the boat, just before the tunnel when I looked back and
thought I saw someone I knew?  Well, the next day one of the girls from our
school, Alice is her name, and she's Bill's sister..." Ouch!  Bill was
Jennifer's Neanderthal boyfriend, and the thought of his jealousy wiped away
any inclination to smile.  "...anyway, she called Jennifer and mentioned
that she was at Seniors' Night and started hinting around about 'didn't she
see us there' and 'who got us in' and stuff like that.  She was a little
confused about the details, but she must have gotten your name from
somewhere, because she mentioned 'a kid named Alex.  Jennifer tried to cover
it up, but I think Alice was still suspicious.  So Saturday we got a call
from the boys and they were fuming.  They said they'd be coming back to town
this weekend and they wanted to see 'this kid Alex.'  If it's anything like
the last time they caught us, we're all in for a beating, but you most of
all, Alex."

As scared as I was, a part of me was really angry.  "Why do you let those
guys treat you like that, Pat?  If they're so rotten, why do you keep seeing
them?  Why don't you just tell them to take a hike?"

"Easy for you to say, Mr.  Sissy." Jennifer shot back.  "Why don't you tell
them to take a hike and see what you get for your trouble?"

Again Pat seemed to be defending me.  "Jennifer, back off.  But she's right,
Alex.  We've tried to get rid of them before.  They have everyone buffaloed
on our side of town.  They're these 'Great Sports Gods' to all the adults,
with perfect manners and Ivy League recruiters beating down their doors -
even Pro recruiters.  Meanwhile they threaten us and they beat any guy that
even looks twice at us.  We hate them, but we don't know what to do.  They
left school early for their college training camps, and we haven't had a
date since.  They put the word out that we were still their girls, and
that's all it took.  Then we heard about Senior's Night, and we heard you
were this brain and this wheeler-dealer, and we just thought it would be fun
- - - .  Well, I know it was really our fault that we got you into this, but
- - - well, we were hoping you'd come up with some ideas - - - ."

She seemed on the verge of tears and it was probably genuine, but I could
see how they had manipulated me - were still using me, in fact.  I began to
see that they had pretty much set me up for a fall.  They had used me to get
into Seniors' Night not really caring what might happen later - to them or
to me.  Of course, I knew at the time that they were going with me only
because they couldn't get in any other way.  They had offered to help, and I
had needed help, so all in all it was really not much more than a simple
business relationship.  On the other hand, both of them had been very
friendly the whole night, and we'd had a lot of laughs.  There had even been
some cuddling and kissing involved, though it had been done amid laughter
and teasing.  At any rate, by the end of the evening I had thought we had a
pretty good friendship going.  The girls had even tried to phone me a couple
of times over the last week, but I was going through the hair thing with Mom
and had ignored the messages they left.  I guess now it was time to "pay the
piper" for the good times.

It took me a couple of minutes to work all this through in my mind, and it
was pretty quiet in the room.  Pat was just sitting there with a frown on
her face, while Jennifer paced back and forth in front of us.  The more I
thought about "the boys", the warmer the room seemed to get.  Suddenly Pat
spoke up.

"Would the two of you quit it?  I'm trying to think and you're both driving
me crazy." Jennifer stopped pacing and glance at me.  I had been running my
hands through my hair and pulling my hair back and up off my neck, then
letting it fall.  When Pat spoke I sort of froze with my hands behind my
head.  Pat's eyes narrowed and her frown began to change into a thin smile.
Jennifer and I just looked at her for a couple of minutes.  Without saying a
word, Pat jumped up and walked into the living room with us following behind
her.  It was obvious she'd had some kind of bright idea, but she seemed so
focussed that she couldn't even hear our questions.  She picked up the phone
and dialed.

"Hello, Alice?  This is Pat.  Hi.  I'm doing okay, but Alice, we got a phone
call from the boys Saturday and they were very upset about the Seniors Night
thing.  Alice, what did you tell them about this kid Alex?" There was a
pause, then Pat began to laugh.  The laugh was convincing in a way but there
didn't seem to be much humor behind it.  "Alice, where do you know Alex
from?" Another pause.  "That's what I thought.  Alice, if I didn't know
better I'd say you were trying to get Jen and me in trouble.  Either that or
you need to have your eye presecription changed.  Alex will be a little
upset when SHE finds out you mistook HER for a guy.  I don't think the boys
will find it too funny either."

Pat glanced up at me when she said that.  I had no idea what was going
through Pat's mind, but I didn't like what I was hearing.

"That's right, Alice, that was a girl you saw with us on Seniors' Night."
She paused to listen for a minute and her smile turned to a frown.  "Are you
serious?  Look, even if we weren't already spoken for, do you think we'd

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /