Misfit Blossoms Ch. 01

Amy Simpson lacked friends, ambition and family closeness with her mom, dad, sister, brother and extended family, which was a drag.

Fortunately, she was favoured by the family cat and throughout Amy's formative years, four successive replacement cats continued that feline tradition in the Simpson's home in the small coastal city of Weymouth, at the mouth of the river Igor.

Her father was head of surgery at the city's base hospital for the surrounding region.

Amy didn't resent being on the outer and wasn't confused about the reason why she appeared close to being a social misfit. She expected to plod through life because all the signs of being an under-achiever were in place.

As a youngster, she came to understand why she was not invited to birthday parties; it was her attendance wasn't required because she didn't fit in. Amy handled such rejection by devoting much of her spare time reading. She considered this was her lot and nothing was likely to change any time soon.

Amy becoming a book-worm was a worry her family, especially her mother, head of family law at the city's biggest law firm. Laura urged her younger daughter to make friends, to play with other children her age' and, of course, there was the oft-repeated appeal, 'Amy just get involved'.

Unfortunately, such sage advice lacked even vague instruction on how to accomplish that when you were regarded as a misfit.

Initially, school or on family visits, other kids didn't display eagerness to sit beside Amy and that didn't upset her significantly because of her awareness that if kids didn't want her to join them, then she shouldn't try to join them.

Both grandmothers recognized her as 'a quiet one' and virtually left it at that.

But as Amy became older, some of her contemporaries at school discovered that in class it was advantageous to get close to Amy Simpson 'because Amy knows such a lot'.

Yes, development through circumstances of becoming a voracious reader had accelerated Amy's understanding of society and extended her general knowledge formidably. And later at high school and then more particularly at university, she gained a version of popularity came through her worthiness in group discussion and her value as top study partner was recognized.

Studying for a degree in English literature, Amy (18) found herself in company of Adam Sharpe, who admired her mind and within a short time she figured she was in the process of gaining her first boyfriend.

Amy was reasonably good-looking with a developing near-perfect body for her age and was suitably standoffish for Adam. He'd divulged he had a domineering mother, an uncaring father and a competitive older sister whom he suspected could be involved in some level of incestuous relationship with their stepfather.

Amy was astounded that Adam had sufficient confidence in her to share such hot conjecture.

Their association began when Adam sat beside her on an outdoor seat between classes. He'd smiled and said hi and little else. On his arrival, Amy put down the book she was reading and noticing Adam appeared unhappy asked was something bothering him. He was relieved to unload to someone who appeared interested in listening to him,

"Amy, I'm struggling to understand why our lecturers are currently dwelling on these female authors of Old England."

"Ah," she said. "It's because a few great writers in England emerged as part of what later became recognized as the Victorian Movement, a significant development that relates to the development of modern literature. We'll progress on to the French and Russian influences, to name two major studies ahead of us. Put simply, these writers were raising the bar in progressive literary excellence, and such influential writers also popped up in America where civil war developed amid growing desire of waves of immigrants to seize their chance to battle in the name of liberty under self-rule for removal of governance backed by British military."

"Um, yes I now understand. We are looking being presented with the big picture in literary development to understand historic influences on where literature is today."

"Oh Adam, you do understand. I couldn't have expressed that any better myself. We are receiving mass education of which only some of it will appear relevant in our chosen careers."

"We are required to possess a general education on literature as part of the foundation for our future careers. For example, what if you were being interviewed as a professional writer and the reporter asked what you thought of the influence of modern literary writing of Tolstoy and your scratched you head and replied, 'Who?'"

"Oh dear, your hard-won reputation would be harpooned and you could be ridiculed."

"Ah, well expressed and incidentally who is Tolstoy?"

"Adam!"

"Relax, I was joking. We studied Leo Tolstoy, more correctly known as Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy, at high school and I possess several of his major novels."

Amy puffed, "My goodness Adam, feel my heart. I really thought it had stopped in panic."

Adam looked nervous, eyeing her left boob.

"I really don't think I should ... I mean out here in public."

"My comment about feeling over my heart was not meant to be taken literary," Amy giggled.

She then gathered herself determinedly and said softly, "However, if you really..."

"No, no... at least not yet. I mean this is the first time we've actually conversed outside of classes."

"Indeed," Amy said. "Ah, students are beginning to move off to class and we should too. This has been an interesting conversation Adam and I think we should talk again. I'm dashing to the loo. Bye."

Amy sat in a booth, heart pounding.

She thought oh goodness, Adam had contemplated touching her boob - she was sure about that; his eyes had been extremely focused as if seeing her breast through her clothing. Perhaps that indicated he wasn't a virgin. She had come to think it was important that when a guy finally took her virginity, she'd want him experienced in sex to maximize her enjoyment of that dream moment of being penetrated by an inflated penis.

Hurriedly, still flushing, she left the booth and raced off to her lecture, thinking she could almost hear her mother call, 'Amy go back and wash your hands'.

Three weeks later, sitting on a park bench and watching children throwing bread to the ducks and swans, Amy and Adam turned toward each other at the same time and after a brief hesitation moved their heads and kissed.

It was Amy's first lips-on-lips kiss apart from her mother and one of her aunts who was a compulsive lips kisser.

Amy's body tingled and her thoughts soared and in that gorgeous moment of melancholy, her hand dropped into his lap and she squeezed.

Adam almost jumped and looked at her strangely.

"Omigod, I'm sorry," she blushed. "I don't know what happened to me. My mind was soaring and the next moment you were pulling away from me. At that instant, I became focused and snatched my hand off your pants. I'm sorry and... and you must now think that I'm a slut?"

"N-o-o-o," Adam said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. "I accept your explanation that it was an involuntary clutch."

"Thanks for that assurance."

He smiled and said, "So you wish me to pretend that incident never occurred?"

"Oh no Adam, um what I mean is only if you believe that's necessary. I'm beginning to rather like the fact that you reacted to me touching you there kindly, rather than pulling away from me furiously."

"The truth is I've never done such a thing to anyone before today. I confess that in retrospect, the pleasant feeling of accidentally landing myself into such a situation has permeated through my mind. Briefly, I wallowed in thoughts that surely must relate to eroticism, that until now I'd been virtually unaware I possessed."

"Wow, I never thought of you as harbouring erotic thoughts, Amy."

"I accept that comment as people who know me probably think that I'm rather cold and distance myself from practically everything. I would rather like the possibility of you privately speculating that I hide some potentially sluttish tendencies behind my unexciting and quasi-intellectual façade."

"Wow," Adam breathed, well aware that he was not considered one of the popular guys on campus. "We should meet somewhere and discuss things like this. Would you welcome that?"

"Oh yes and discuss things like what?"

"Won't that occur to us at the time?"

"Oh yes and I'm free this evening."

He almost froze but kicked-started his mouth shyly.

"Great," he said huskily. "I suggest we meet outside the library at 7:00 and go off for a burger."

"Adam, that's brilliant."

Adam and Amy left the café, walking together closely and finally Amy took his hand they reached Mitchell House (her hall of residence) and they sealed the end of their first date with a gentle kiss and laughed when Adam pleaded, "Come on, just one more kiss."

They took more time and kissed with a little more pressure.

Four dates later, they were sitting away from the walkway lighting on a park bench and Amy said somewhat recklessly, "Would you like me to fondle you?"

"Fondle?" he said, holding his breath momentarily.

"Yes, I know what to do from reading books and watching movies and DVDs."

She was told to go ahead and she gently and unhurriedly unzipped him.

That move ended up with them having clothed sex.

When her panting slowed, Amy said, "Well that's the first notch for my belt; I'm glad there was no initial mess. It must have been stretched away during years of playing hockey."

"That probably explains it. Um, I... I haven't g-got off yet despite your big yelps and convulsions."

"Oh, poor guy; here let my jerk you off again. After the wonderful feelings you generated in me, it's proper that I should bring you to conclusion."

They continued to date, with Amy delighted to be gaining sexual experience.

But their relationship ended unexpectedly.

Adam and Amy returned to their respective homes end-of-term, with Adam depressed by his poor marks for the first semester whereas Amy was delighted to find herself in 4th place overall in her class, although she knew there was a long way to go.

Adam phoned Amy three days later and said he'd agreed with his parents that his best option was to quit university. His father had found him an opening, with the commitment to catch up as a late-starter, to again an associate degree in welding and fabrication technology. He had the security of being promised a job when completing the course, working for the business his father managed that specialized in industrial repairs.

Amy said that was a long stretch away from being involved in professional writing.

Adam agreed, explaining his mother had pushed him into that.

Amy said glumly, "I guess that's it?"

"Yeah, bye. It was nice knowing you," he said sounding sad.

Snapping her phone closed, Amy sniffed, thinking she must find a guy with a stiffer backbone and who was intellectually superior to her departing first boyfriend.

"Yep, preferably a dude with a fat dick who really knows how to use it."

God, she thought in surprise, where did that come from? She never thought like that, err until now. Was her more challenging life as a university freshman beginning to transform her from being a Wallflower um to what?

She had no idea.

"Well it's unlikely to be dramatic change as that never has been my style."

After dinner Amy and her mother were having cake and coffee, Amy said, "Mom you won't be meeting my first boyfriend after all. He called me earlier to say he's dropped out of university."

"Oh dear, what a blow for you."

"Yes and no and perhaps I should have expected that to happen because he was depressed that his end of term report was so disappointing. That probably rather dented his spirit."

"Well you'll meet a potential replacement."

"I hope so mum. Actually, I feel more confident about it now."

"Does that mean you've finally had sex?"

Without hesitation, Amy said yes.

"Good for you. Think of that experience as being confirmation that you are now an adult."

"Hmm, may I ask were you ever long without boyfriends when you were young?"

"I was fine once I knew how to use my breasts after learning that many guys have a fixation on breasts and such focus never leaves some of them."

"Um, how do..."

"There are two ways, keep them up high and wear a bra as least one size too small for you and don't be shy at exposing cleavage. Alternatively, sometimes go without a bra and don't be embarrassed about wobble as that's fodder to the minds of men. Do you wish to discuss preventative measures?"

"No thanks mum as it's no problem; I'm well-read on the issues of being safe."

After caught up with some former students during her break at home and several of them commented on how Amy had changed in appearances and in personal confidence.

One evening she went with her closest friend in her senior year to the pretentiously-named Royal Imbibe Bar, Susan received waves or verbal greetings from several people who recognized her and she and Amy agreed that in holding that advantage, Susan should target guys that they both agreed looked okay for impromptu dating.

Susan went into her procurement role determinedly.

Unfortunately, one guy said yes providing his three pals could join them; two others each said some other night as their girlfriend was in the bar and the fourth apologized and introduced Susan to his gay partner.

"I've had no luck, I'm beginning to doubt my ability to attract any guy from a cold start. It's different from being at university where guys are practically drowning in their own drool in their eagerness to pin you,"

Susan urged Amy she should swoop on some unsuspecting sucker.

"Sucker? I hope so," Amy giggled.

She picked out a lean guy drinking with two buddies.

"He's a bit old and all three guys appeared married."

Amy said she agreed that he appeared to be in his mid-thirties but said he was promiscuous and probably only had it off with other women around his own age.

"How can you tell he's probably promiscuous?"

"Watch."

Three minutes went by.

"Nothing is happening," Susan complained.

Just then a server with a tray of drinks held above her head, passed those three guys standing at a high bar table imbibing.

"Omigod," Susan drawled, as the guy under study looked hard at the server's butt and then casually smacked a hand against his crotch.

She added, "He must be addicted to ass."

"Doesn't that rate as a big tick?"

The two females laughed.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Opportunity."

"When will that occur?"

"I patiently await the opportunity to arrive."

But it never did and the two females left empty-handed.

In the taxi on their way home, Susan invited Amy to stay the night with her at her parents' home.

Amy declined sweetly and walked up the street to her family home rather horrified about the direction she was taking with her thinking and behaviour that suggested she was racing to become a dedicated slut. Of course, her bravado had occurred because of the three wines she'd consumed over dinner before leaving home.

"This is not a rush to make up lost time," she said aloud, aware she was a little drunk. "It represents and unwelcomed signal that I'm losing control in a plunge toward something I know not what. For fuck sake girl, rein yourself in and get yourself together."

She arrived home to find her mom reading alone in bed. Claire said Brett was in his home office catching up on paperwork that was male code apparently for watching laptop porn.

"Dad watches porn; are you sure?"

"My sweet, you have so much to learn about men."

"Oh. Um mum, let's go shopping tomorrow and I'll help you buy an outfit or two and that's daughter code for and you buying me something as well."

"That's a good idea, but after church which is at 9:30. I'd like you to accompany me to church."

"But I haven't attended church with you since I was thirteen or fourteen."

Claire waited patiently and finally her daughter sighed and said okay, she'd provide company for her mother because she knew her father was going skeet shooting in the morning with a long-time pal.

Over lunch at the mall, Amy said, "Mum, my mind is in a flutter as I appear going nowhere in my life with no future pathway decided."

"And at your age do you think you have that to yourself?"

"Yes, although perhaps not and I was disappointed to find largely I realize now what I got from school counselling was mostly irrelevant or outright crap."

Laura smiled.

"What's funny... ohmigod, you remember being in the same empty-headed situation," Amy said excitedly.

"Indeed, I do pet and like millions of other eighteen-year-olds in the reality of graduating from school, life as I had known it began falling inwards and I found myself uncomfortable and almost ready to panic."

"Omigod, I always figured you as being solid as a rock from when you were a kid."

"Darling, there's a whole lot you don't know about me and some things you'll never be told."

"Like what, fucking like a whore in your first year at university?"

Laura coloured and said, "Are you sure you should be using that word in front of your mother unless she has riled you?"

"Come on mom, let's talk candidly, did you come close to suffering over-use pussy syndrome."

"As I indicated a minute ago, there are some things I'll never disclose to you or anyone else."

"Mom, or rather Laura Wide Open Legs McCool as you were known to horny young university guys. You have to tell me more."

Her mom giggled, and flushing said, "Shut up you wicked girl. That overall uncertainty and, yes sex in the mix, is partly why parents send their children to university or into some form of lower-level of trades training or work as an office junior during that transitional trough in their young life. The minds of those youngsters are mostly wide open for advance knowledge and slowly they progress through to maturity, learning heaps of useful information, sampling life including perhaps some of the illicit things, learning that sex is far more complicated that routinely in-out, thanks, goodnight and..."

Claire stopped, amused by her daughter, now rolling in laughter.

"God, mum I realize I ought to have listened to you more seriously as I moved toward starting that transition as although I acknowledge I have a clever mind, at times its lack of usefulness can leave me grasping. You have no idea what this conversation has meant to me."

"Oh, but I do darling, and the problem has been that it is rare for you to be this receptive. I must tell you I'm enchanted by the new version of my daughter. This upgrade of my daughter promises exciting times ahead for you and heaps of fulfilment times for me as your mother."

"Mother, I..."

"Don't say it darling, the disappointments and worry of the past are gone, as the past is the past. Finish lunch and then we are off to concentrate on your clothing as I have this huge desire to help launch you appropriately to enhance your new image."

They leaned over and kissed, Amy was thinking her new image? She wondered if her mother had the ability to visualize her daughter's future image because her daughter certainly couldn't.

Three hours later, they stopped when walking to the car for Laura to chat with Mrs Bridges whose son Larry, nicknamed Mr Cool, had been in Amy's class in their senior year at high school.

Amy looked at the guy standing next to Cynthia Bridges and for a moment was puzzled because the tall, blonde guy beside her who gave the impression of being a male model was staring at her, his jaw almost on his sternum.

"Amy, god is that you Amy?"

She realized she was wearing one of her new dresses from the boutique and the fashionable and striking high heels that smart sales assistant had talked Claire into buying for Amy for formal wear. And then, in the cosmetics department, at Claire's request, a demonstrator had brushed Amy's face with some stuff that Amy intended to wash off as soon as she arrived home.