Monet Inspires Novelist

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Amateur

CHAPTER 1

The Davidson’s middle daughter Monet was a worry to her parents. The 19-year was a gifted sportswoman and had taken a job as an attendant at the city’s indoor aquatic center instead of going to college whereas her older sister Lisa would graduate this year with a Master’s degree in computer science. Younger sister Colleen was the top female in her year class as a high school senior.

Monet’s mother Donna whined to her husband, “Harry please do something with Monet.”

The banker sighed. It was Thursday and this was the first time the subject of defiant Monet had been raised in a week. He’d assumed the crisis had expired with Donna rendered speechless on that topic either through emotional exhaustion or repetitive conversation topic fatigue syndrome.

No such luck apparently.

He sighed openly and asked what did Donna suggest?

“Tell her she has to go to college.”

“I have done that, countless times.”

Donna snorted, “Then make her go.”

“And how do I do that.”

“Tell her she has to go.”

Harry groaned, wondering how his wife had gotten her through college with a degree in education. It must have been her big tits. Now why hadn’t he thought about that brain capacity/breast size before? Oh crap his memory was going. His wife was sending him into senility prematurely.

He tried to ease the conversation off track. “I thought you would have been more concerned your stubborn daughter still shows no in interest in guys.”

“Oh you’ve noticed that too?”

Harry said patiently, “We’ve spoken about it several times.”

“Oh if you say so I accept that. So we have a lesbian in the family?”

“Christ Donna, don’t say that and don’t think that. My bank is ultra-conservative and wouldn’t tolerate a senior executive having a gay daughter.”

“Well you ought to have thought about that before becoming a banker.”

Harry said wearily he was a banker before he’d met their mother.

“Oh so you were. How time flies,” said the blonde with long legs and, yes, big tits.

Harry knew Donna went to pieces emotionally over this one thing, Monet’s defiance as Donna called it but he thought the words to more appropriately describe it were Monet’s strong will and focus. If Monet had gone to college she would have had to play college soccer whereas she wished to play State zone soccer.

Monet has taken the attendant’s job at the multi-pool facility because her fixed hours were Monday to Fridays, 6:00 till 2:00 and she then had the afternoon to read or shop and then go to evening soccer practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays and then play Saturday afternoons and return home after away games on Sundays. She’d chosen fixed hours because attendants on the higher pay rate at the pool complex had to work shifts including being assigned to work on alternative weekends.

The other thing he always chose not to mention to Donna was that by not going to college Monet would save her parents about $120,000 as a resident student doing a 4-year degree, less any support grants and that could have been considerable in Donna’s case because she probably could have pulled in a big sports scholarship. She was rated outstanding for her age in soccer, 3 m tower diving and tennis. Coaches had told Harry that Monet could possibly have a professional career in soccer and possibly tennis and could become nationally competitive in tower diving under the right patronage. He knew of course coaches tended to patronize affluent parents.

Donna barked, “So with all that thinking have you worked out what do we do with your wayward daughter?”

“Only to think we’ve traversed the same old oral pathway and I expect you’ll bring up the subject again before too long.”

“How the hell can you be a banker with your pea-brain?” Donna said, leaving the room and slamming the door.

Harry sighed and switched the TV from soppy muck to his favorite sports channel.

Monet was in one of the big shower cubicles with Maxine and Maria after soccer practice. Maria said quietly, “You have the best looking breasts I’ve ever seen Monet. Why won’t you come over to Maxine’s place on Friday nights when her parents always go out and join in what we do?”

“Licking butt and pussy does nothing for me. I tried it a couple of times and the only reaction I had was I couldn’t stop yawning.”

“Maria and I could probably stir you along.”

“No thanks Maxie. You know this conversation is hilarious because I suspect my mom thinks I’m gay.”

“Well do you think your mom would join us?” Maria asked, sending the other two into a giggling fit.

Maxine lived not far from Monet and they usually cycled home together, being on a dedicated cycling track almost all the way.

“If you’re not gay what are you?” asked Maxine. “At high school you rarely dated and no reports came back in you were great at whatever the expectation was.”

“It will be guys but it hasn’t happen yet. I’m only just nineteen and I assume I’m a late developer.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No on a couple of occasions türbanlı escort my date wore me down and I dropped my panties for him to shut him up. God when guys are pestering you for sex they become like whining old women.”

They laughed and Maxine made the outrageous claim she’d had sex more times than her mom.

“Have you any idea how many times your mom has done it?”

“No idea but when she was giving me one of those mother-daughter talks she’s said she’s never been overly interested in sex.”

“Women are liars Maxie. They can’t help it because they have the liar gene in their makeup and they also have a sex gene and a backup sex gene in case the front-end one malfunctions. Some poor unfortunate women have both sex genes cutting in together and we call those unfortunate women sluts.”

“Are you sure about that Monet?”

“No but it sounds credible to me.”

“Yeah me too and I’ve never heard any other explanation why some women are sluts. I must tell mom she may have a couple of malfunctioning sex genes.”

“Um Maxie, I suggest you don’t. You know how older women go crazy when they talk about their health, other people’s operations and sex issues.”

“Oh yeah, good thinking. And if mom worried it could cut off any supply dad is getting and I’d hate to be responsible for that.”

It was still daylight when Monet arrived home. The big covered truck that had been delivering furniture to the empty house next door had gone and all the lights in the now occupied house were on.

Monet groaned aloud, “So we have new neighbors. I hope they don’t fight and yell and the kids don’t run amok yelling.”

After the usual start to dinner with Monet’s father asking had she allowed anyone to drown at the pool during her watch today (answer no) and her mother announcing she’d sat beside Bess’s mother at the hairdressers and Kathleen had said Bess was having a marvelous time at college (no comment from either husband or daughter), Monet went to her bedroom. She removed her shoes and top and sat in front of her computer wearing just her bra, short skirt and panties and booted the laptop. She looked out of the window straight across to a guy sitting at his computer in front of his facing window.

They stared at each other and he finally waved.

Monet waved back.

He left the room and she began searching the web for news about women’s soccer.

A small stone hit her window and she jumped half an inch in fright. She looked out and saw the same guy now standing at the solid wooden fence and making obscene gestures but then she worked out he meant her to open her window and she obliged.

“Hi, sorry for the intrusion but I thought I should introduce myself as your new neighbor. “I’m McNeill Pax.”

“What?” Monet said in surprise.

“Yes I know McNeill is unusual as a first name but…”

“McNeill Pax the author?”

“You know of me?” he said in surprise.

“Mom bought the paperback of ‘Flora’s Floral PJs’ and we both cackled through the book. You didn’t stop being funny like so many writers starting off humorously do.”

“Why thank you… um?”

“Monet Davidson.”

“Wow Monet, cute name. I couldn’t help notice your unusual style of dress for working at your computer.”

“It’s warm tonight. On very warm nights I shed my bra but give me your phone number and I’ll warn you not to look over here on those nights. I’d hate to disgust you.”

“Disgust me, I don’t think so. What is you bra size?”

Unfazed by that intimate probe Monet said, “34B but I’m still growing. Will you buy a bra for me?”

“Well actually I was making a mental note of having one of my female characters typing the night away dressed only in her bra and I thought I’d make her your size.”

“But she wouldn’t be me?”

“Oh no, stealing identities leads to too much trouble for writers.”

“Why would the heroine be dressed in only a bra?”

McNeill paused and then said he didn’t wish to embarrass Monet.

“I like the thought of you being a kind person but please go ahead.”

“When I looked over and saw you I instantly though god she’s only dressed in a bra. I couldn’t see much lower of course.”

“Would your heroine who wears only a bra when at the computer have a bush or would she be clipped or partly or fully shaved?”

“How did you present?”

“Mr Pax!”

“Sorry my mind raced away on me. It happens to writers.”

“Perhaps we’ll talk tomorrow. Welcome to the neighborhood. Good evening.”

Monet stood and closed the window conscious he was starting at her chest.

Her pulse began to race.

“Omigod, it’s beginning to happen. I must seduce him to prove it to my satisfaction that my interest in being a portal for male ejaculations is indeed developing.”

She pulled the curtain across and sat down, breathing a little heavily. She wriggled her toes in excitement. There was no way she’d fail in this new challenge and even if he were gay, a seduction would still be accomplished. She wondered where escort ulus were his wife and kids.

Next morning Monet went out and began her usual Sunday morning run.

Mr Pax dressed for running fell in beside her.

“So you run?” he said, without surprise.

“I’m like a book to you Mr Pax. Until you begin opening pages you’ll know nothing about me and likewise for my knowledge and understanding of you.”

“That’s rather profound for a woman, especially a young one. I must work what you just said into a novel.”

Monet gritted and then hit back.

“Well I guess that comment incorporated a slur on women and tells me quite a bit about you Mr Pax.”

She almost heard the gasp.

He grunted, “Um sorry. These things sometimes jump out.”

Monet asked how old was he.

“Thirty-four.”

“Oh my bust size. I hope then I don’t know you when you reach your forties.”

“Why not?”

They pounded on in silence and he began giggling or whatever men do. Was it chuckling?

“God you are funny,” he said. “I finally twigged what you meant with that comment and you must excuse me for being so slow but then I’m only male. I then began laughing picturing your forty-five size bust spilling down and covering your keyboard.”

“I’m pleased that amuses you,” Monet said icily and held back her grin.

“Yeah I can write a long passage about my heroine’s mother finding a laptop is unsuitable for her.”

Monet laughed hard and turned knowing this odd Joe from next-door would now have a great view of her teeth and right down to her tonsils and would see her neck thickened and the cords prominent because she was exhibiting her power laugh. Not that it mattered.

Then he said a profound thing that would assist greatly in the seduction of the jerk: “It’s a real pleasure to know you have genuine humor. I’m had my fill of females who laugh without understanding and their eyes remain semi-glazed. Just then your ocean blue eyes reflected this morning’s sunlight and shone in wholesome glory.”

Monet ran on silently, heart pounding. God no male had ever spoken to her like that.

“I have to tell you something.”

Oh no, Monet thought wildly. He is about to confess he’s gay or else he has an unusually small penis or perhaps both misfortunes will be confessed.

“Your mom popped over late yesterday afternoon with some freshly-made cookies and homemade lemonade and welcomed me as a new resident. She told me she had three lovely daughters but sadly the middle and most beautiful of her daughters was difficult.

Monet tensed.

“She said you were out at soccer coaching and were far too complex for her to understand. That’s when I knew I’d expect you to be the most interesting person in your family, someone to study in detail to epitomize my next heroine.”

“You don’t say,” Monet said. “Do that and I’ll get dad to run you out of town.”

“No, no… you don’t understand. My studies will form images and impressions that I’ll use to create a female character that you’ll have difficulty recognizing because she will be only part of you. Writers draw character and personality and even utterances from a variety of memories or study of people collective to create bits and pieces of each identity to create each main character. You must understand the genre is fiction and so the characters are fictional with stolen elements from real people to provide the reality that gives them credibility but of course you’ll know characters in literature have to appear larger than life otherwise readers would find them as boring as the people around them.”

“So, you find me boring.”

“Did I say that?”

Monet had to agree he had not done so directly but no way would she acknowledge that.

“I have been insulted. Goodbye old man.”

Monet powered on the pace and he stayed with her for almost two hundred yards but then began fading. She didn’t look back, slowed to jog over the water main exposed as it crossed McVinny’s Creek and then ran even faster to allow creeping exhaustion to blot out everything about the jerk.

She was back home by 8:00 and after showering joined her folk on the terrace for breakfast. Her mom ate stewed prunes and one piece of dry toast while Monet scoffed almost as much bacon, potato mash and green fried tomatoes as her father did and then cover the top of her black coffee with cream.

Her non-athletic and weight-gathering mother could only watch that intake and sigh.

Harry said, “One thing I look forward to most of the week is Sunday breakfast with my family.”

“Oh darling how sweet.”

Monet could only grin and her younger sister looked at her and grinned. They heard that same exchange every Sunday morning.

Donna said, “Girls I need you to help tidy the house and assist with lunch. I’ve invited our new neighbor McNeill over. That’s a really unusual name, McNeill Pax. I feel I’ve heard it before.

Monet said, “Flora’s Floral PJs.”

“Oh god, we have an author living next to us,” Donna said, cheeks escort yenimahalle flaming. “How exciting. I must tell my friends.”

Monet felt the need to tell her mom ‘Hands off, he’s mine’ but that would alert her mom that at least one of her daughters knew her mom occasionally strayed and Monet didn’t know if her father knew about that adulterous side to his wife.

“I thought that book was childish crap.” Lisa who lacked real humor said.

“Lisa!” shrieked her mom but Harry said Lisa was entitled to have an imposing view, and that was that.

“Oh I told McNeill that you go for a run at 6:30 on Sunday mornings,” Donna said, patting her hair. “He asked me were there running trails in the neighborhood, that he tried to be an endurance runner. Did he take the opportunity to join you?”

“Yes although when we chatted briefly last night and he didn’t mention running. He just showed up beside me this morning and almost scared the crap out of me.”

“Monet,” scolded her mom.

The other three smiled.

“Did he spot you at your computer in your bra?” asked Lisa.

Their mom froze, waiting for the reply.

“Yep that’s what attracted him to the fence to take a closer look.”

“Monet!”

“It was okay mom. I was wearing a full floral bra, not one of my sexy half-cup ones.”

“But…”

“Calm down Donna,” Harry said mildly. “For the life of me I can’t see the difference between a woman wearing a bikini top and a woman wearing a bra without a top.”

“It’s a matter of perception.”

“That’s ridiculous and people ought to grow out of that notion. Providing they don’t droop or have over-large nipples I’d prefer woman to wear them uncovered. It would add interest to my day. Run round the house in just your panties girls.”

“What about me?” Donna demanded.

The other three laughed and then she laughed, realizing Harry was joking.

Her father asked, “Will you bare your breasts for this McNeil guy?”

“Perhaps I might Lisa,” Monet said staring at her mom. “But he’d have to ask nicely for me to display them.”

“Oh God, I’m developing a headache.”

“Then go to bed mom. Monet and I will entertain our presumably exciting and over-sexed neighbor at lunch.”

“No I’ll be fine. It was just warning my family not to stress me.”

When clearing away breakfast, Harry out on the lawn practicing his golf chipping and Donna away dusting or those other things mothers like to do to keep themselves occupied, Lisa asked, “Do you think mom has it off with other guys?”

“How would I know that?”

“So you haven’t caught her at it.”

“No,” Monet said, thinking not directly.

“Is this guy next door fuckable?”

“I suppose so but why don’t you try him out and then advise me.”

“But I’m still not eighteen. Mom says I must wait till I’m eighteen before I do it.”

“Then stop short of penis penetration with McNeill.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. He’s old. It will be all wrinkly and won’t go stiff.”

“Oh my darling sister, you are going to have a great time finding the truth on misconceptions about sex. I’m so happy for you.”

“W-what misconceptions?”

“Darling that’s for you to find out. I won’t spoil it for you.”

“Spoil what for Lisa?” asked their mom, coming into the kitchen.

“A movie I’ve seen on at the Roxy. She wanted to know how it ends.”

“It’s not one of these R18 movies is it?”

“No mom, a beautiful coming of age film of a girl going through college.”

“And you saw that?” her mom said disbelievingly.

Monet sighed. “Yes mom. If you really must know I chose not to go to college so I could play zone soccer and perhaps make the state A-team and Maxine and Maria were keen to see that movie. I suppose I should tell you I’m having this year off study and plan to take a business degree on-line next year.”

“Oh darling, how wonderful. Please allow me to pay all your fees. Oh you are such a darling daughter.”

Monet gave her mom a huge smile and thought, well in that case please oblige your darling daughter by keeping your hands off our neighbor until she’d finished with him.

* * *

McNeill came through the side gate carrying flowers and a bottle of red wine.

Harry who was at the grill basting chicken he was barbequing waved and the women converged on their guest.

“Oh flowers,” Donna said, placing a hand across her ample bosom, much of the flesh protruding above the low neck of her sundress, and drawing McNeill’s attention. “How lovely.”

He glanced at Monet in dismay and she winked at nodded. McNeill handed over the flowers, meant for Monet as an apology, to her grasping mother.

Donna cooed thank you and kissed her guest on the cheek.

She introduced Lisa who shook hands and Monet stepped up and coolly kissed McNeill juicily on the lips.

He looked startled but no more so than Donna.

Donna selfishly sat the guest opposite her at the table, Harry beside her and Lisa next to McNeill, leaving Monet to walk meekly to the ‘widow’s’ placing set next to Lisa and that meant McNeill was unable to see Monet without bending backwards or forwards.

Oh well done mama, gnashed Monet but really she didn’t care, believing she would have finished with McNeill with her mom still not within sight of the home straight.

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