A Different Sort of Lifestyle - Cover

A Different Sort of Lifestyle

Copyright© 2006 by Lazlo Zalezac

Chapter 12: Blindsided

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12: Blindsided - It's easy to forget what you wanted out of life once you get caught up in the rat race. The things we wanted when young get forgotten while competing to out do the neighbors. At some point, you just become lost. Does it have to be that way? Not necessarily.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Slow  

Late Saturday morning, Jack was out in the yard mowing the lawn. Pushing the mower back and forth across the expanse of green grass gave him plenty of time to consider his life in light of his discussion with Greg the previous night. He thought about asking his wife to dress a little sexier for dinner. The formal gowns were a little out of their financial grasp, but short skirts and tight blouses weren’t. There was a lot that she could wear that he would find sexy. He wondered what she would want him to wear.

The evening with the Anders had actually eased his concerns about Harry. For some reason, he actually liked Greg, and found that they shared a lot of common interests. He never would have believed that he’d end up in the house of some rich guy while wearing a tuxedo and talking about cars. They had both started driving Volkswagens. While Greg had a bug, he’d had a bus. Both men had waxed poetic about the qualities of their respective cars.

He still didn’t know what to do about his wife and daughter not respecting his opinion. After thinking about it, he decided there wasn’t much he could do about the matter. Maybe he would talk to Greg about it some time in the future. Of course, it didn’t seem to him like Greg was making much progress in talking with his daughter. Until he did figure out what to do, he’d take Greg’s advice and just listen to them.

A tired Lisa sat in her bedroom thinking about the previous evening. She hadn’t gotten much sleep. Most of the night had been spent thinking about the bulge she had felt in Harry’s crotch. If she had needed any proof that he desired her as a woman, then that proof had been amply given. She knew that Harry wanted her and that made her feel warm all over.

At that moment, however, her thoughts were not on that part of the evening. She kept remembering that angry expression of her father’s face during the drive over to the Anders’ house. It was obvious to her that her father’s lack of interest towards her had turned to hate. She didn’t know what she had done, but that didn’t matter any more. She was tired of tip-toeing around him. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

It dawned on her that her mother knew that he didn’t love her. It explained all those lame excuses her mother gave as to why he wasn’t acting in a loving manner. The reason her father didn’t play with her wasn’t because he was tired from work. It was because he didn’t love her and her mother knew that. Her mother had tried to protect her from that horrible truth.

In the kitchen, June was busy making brownies. She didn’t do that very often. Store bought brownies cost about the same as the ingredients of homemade brownies and were a lot more convenient. She always baked when she had some serious thinking to do. After the revelations of the previous day, she had some serious thinking to do.

She didn’t know what to do about the consequences that followed from years of doubting Jack. There was no way she could tell him that she had thought he didn’t love his own daughter. She knew that he would be crushed if he were to learn the truth. What kind of wife believed such a horrible thing about her husband? As she worked the brownie batter, tears rolled down her cheeks.

The problem was that she knew there was no way she could keep it to herself. The guilt was killing her. She hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the matter. It would eat at her until she blurted it out. She knew her confession would come at the worst possible moment.

While pouring the batter into the baking pan, she realized that Lisa needed to know as well. She had never come out and told her daughter that Jack didn’t love her, but she was afraid that her attitude might have given that impression. On further reflection, she decided that it was unlikely that her daughter didn’t know her suspicions. She put a hand to her mouth when she realized that it was quite likely Lisa believed that her father didn’t love her.

To the empty room, she said, “Oh my God, my poor baby.”

“Oh my God, my poor Jack. He doesn’t even realize it.”

She came to the conclusion that she had to talk with Lisa right away. She shoved the pan of brownies in the oven without even checking the time.

Jack finished his mowing and put away the lawn mower. On entering the house, he slipped his shoes off and headed towards his favorite chair. He had just sat down when Lisa entered the room from her bedroom and Sharon entered the room from the kitchen. He wondered if this was a good time to suggest that they try some of the things discussed at the Anders’ house.

Sharon saw the look on Lisa’s face and covered her mouth. Lisa walked over to her father and shouted, “I hate you.”

Confused, he looked over at June and asked, “What did I do?”

June looked at him wondering how to answer. The look on his face was just like that of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. She tried to say something, but no words would come out of her mouth.

“You’ve never loved me!”

“Huh?” Jack wasn’t sure that he understood what she was saying.

“You’ve never loved me! I’ve tried my whole life to get you to love me. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. You didn’t even want to try to love me!” Lisa screamed.

“I loved you.”

“No you didn’t. You never told me that you loved me. You’ve never hugged me. You’ve never played with me. You’ve never told me that you are proud of me. You’ve kept me away because you don’t love me. I know it. I know it for a fact. Even Mom knows you don’t love me!”

She looked around and found her mother staring at her. Her anger collapsed into pain. She rushed over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her.

Sobbing, she said, “Mommy, take me away from here.”

There were no doubts in his mind as to what Lisa had said. He didn’t know why, but it was clear that she thought he didn’t love her.

He looked at June and asked, “Do you know what is going on?”

June couldn’t answer. Tears welled up in her eyes, her throat felt swollen, and she couldn’t breath. She didn’t need to answer. Her guilt was written on her face. She hugged Lisa harder. Staring at June, Jack finally understood. His entire marriage suddenly made sense.

Feeling as if he had been sucker punched, he said, “You think she’s right. You think I’ve never loved her.”

His wife shook her head, but still couldn’t answer. He stood up and stared at her. The pain was written on his face in huge letters.

He asked, “What kind of a man do you think I am? Do you think I’m some sort of monster who can’t love his own daughter? How could you think that of me?”

Guilt forced June to tell the truth. For seventeen years she had been slowly killing him without either of them even realizing it. Knowing that she was about to administer that fatal blow and hating herself for it, she bit back her tears just long enough to answer.

“I didn’t realize you loved her, until yesterday.”

Stunned by the admission, he looked from his wife to his daughter and back again. He wanted to yell. He wanted to strike out and hurt them as much as they had hurt him. That kind of meanness wasn’t in him, though. He turned and walked out of the house without saying a word.

It took almost thirty minutes for June and Lisa to calm down enough to talk. Wiping the tears from Lisa’s eyes, June said, “Your father does love you.”

“No he doesn’t,” Lisa declared.

In her mind, the truth of the matter was a given in the same way that gravity was a law of nature. There were no grounds to argue against it.

She added, “You know it, too.”

“I believed that until yesterday,” June admitted as tears threatened to overwhelm her again. She took a deep breath and said, “Oh, God! I was so wrong to believe that.”

Sitting up straight, Lisa said, “Mother. I am not a little girl any more. You can’t make me feel better by giving me lame excuses on his behalf. He doesn’t love me. I have accepted that.”

“Oh, baby girl, you are so wrong,” June replied before she burst into tears again.

Lisa stared at her mother. She was beginning to understand that her mother actually believed that he loved her. She asked, “What do you mean, I’m wrong?”

“You should have seen his face yesterday,” June said looking up at her daughter with red-rimmed eyes. She grabbed a tissue from a box on the coffee table and blew her nose.

“What happened yesterday?”

“He told me that he was worried about Harry taking advantage of you. I’ll never forget the look on his face.”

“Why would he think Harry would take advantage of me?”

Hanging her head in shame, June said, “Harry is the son of a rich man. You are the daughter of a poor man. Your dad believes that the sons of rich men can get away with doing anything they want to the daughters of poor men. He believes that poor men can’t do anything about it. He looked so worried and helpless about not being able to protect you, that it broke my heart. You don’t get that kind of look if you don’t love someone.”

“If he loves me so much, why didn’t he tell me that he loves me?”

“I asked myself that a thousand times last night. Then I realized he just doesn’t say those kinds of things. He’s told me he loves me four times at most since we were married, and I know he loves me. Jack isn’t comfortable talking about how he feels,” June answered.

“But...”

“We destroyed him today, and he didn’t say what he felt. He didn’t yell at us. He didn’t say how much I hurt him. He just left,” June said.

If there had been any time in their marriage where it would have been easiest for him to give voice to his emotions, then this had been the time. Even today, he had not said a word. Lisa stared at her mother with growing horror in her eyes. If her father had loved her before this day, then he must surely hate her now.

She broke down and wailed, “Oh, God!”

Further discussion was postponed when the smoke alarm went off. The batch of brownies had carbonized in the oven. The pair of women ran around frantically trying to take care of the burning brownies. Shoving the smoking pan under the tap, June stared at the mess. She hoped that it wasn’t representative of her marriage.


In the middle of the afternoon, The Point was deserted except for a grizzled old bartender who had seen too many unhappy men drowning their sorrow in drink. It was a small place, located not far from where Jack lived. In the entire time that Jack had lived in that area, he’d been in The Point exactly three times. One of those times had been when his car had broken down, and he had needed to call a tow truck.

Not knowing any other place to go, Jack eventually wound up at The Point after driving around in random directions. When he entered the bar, the bartender looked him over.

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