The Jezebel Incident

Ah, the joy of teenage lust.  The only reason guys talked to me in high school was to get my phone number- so they could call my sisters. I had my infatuations, but I also had two very strong factors in my adolescent life that kept me out of trouble.  1. It’s really hard to attract male attention when you are considered to be one of the fugliest AND geekiest girls in the entire school, and 2. If my awkward appearance and lack of social acumen weren’t sufficient to keep the tomcats at bay, there was always Dad and the shotgun collection. 

Steve-o was fortunate enough, by some bizarre genetic luck of the draw (because the male contributor of his DNA is even fuglier than I am) to not only have ended up attractive and well-proportioned, but also cocky.  By the time he was 13 he couldn’t keep the girls off of him (not that he tried!)  So I am doing the good mother thing and trying to impart to him the moral values of chastity and abstinence, while also letting him know that if he did choose to fornicate, to be sure to use condoms, and if he couldn’t afford condoms I would be glad to provide them for him.  I am a realist, and I observed way too many of the girls I went to high school with.  Many of those girls found themselves pregnant at 14 or 15 because the boys failed to think ahead and get rubbers first.  I didn’t want Steve-o to end up being anyone’s sperm donor.  So far so good on that one, although he may have offspring out there I don’t know about yet.  There’s plenty of time for him to consider breeding once he is out of school, gainfully employed, and hopefully, married to the potential baby mama.

Well, chastity and abstinence (two moral virtues I am well acquainted with…though not necessarily by choice) didn’t hold much charm for Steve-o, aka: Don Juan.  Like a tomcat, he had his choice of plenty of willing kitties to play around with.  He didn’t really pay too much attention to most of them- until Jezebel came along.

Steve-o has always been obsessed with ample female chests.  All the women in my family (except one of my sisters) are “D”s or larger. Perhaps I shouldn’t have breast-fed, but formula is expensive.  Anyway, he was captivated with Jezebel.  She had the two things that every 14 year old boy dreams of- 34DDs, and an insatiable libido. 

Steve-o was so captivated with Jezebel that he truly lost his mind.  He was sneaking out in the middle of the night to go get her.  He would sneak her into our basement in the middle of the night while we were asleep.  We only learned of his deception when we were awakened at 2AM by a very large cop who had Steve-o by the collar.  Apparently Steve-o had unlocked the door for the cop in hopes that the cop would just let him go.  Instead, the cop dragged Steve-o to our bedroom door, and announced in a loud voice, “Does this belong to you?”

How they got in without the dogs going nuts is beyond me. 

Unfortunately Jerry sleeps in his whitey-tighties, which I am sure is a visual no other man wants to see.  Even a gay man (and I’m sure this cop was not gay) would want to see some sexy undies or even boxers.  As Jerry got up, the cop looked away and told him to put on some pants and get Steve-o’s bicycle out of the cruiser.  Jezebel was sitting in the cruiser.  Apparently Steve-o had gone to get her (her house was two miles away) and was riding her on the pegs of his BMX bike when the cop saw them and detained them for curfew violation.

Sadly, this wasn’t the end of Jezebel by a long shot.

One night about a week after the behemoth cop had dragged Steve-o in, Jerry came home from work early. He heard some strange noises coming from the basement, so he felt it prudent to check it out.  As he went to investigate the source of the racket (he thought one of the cats was either sick or injured) he got a real eyeful.  Suffice to say that all of Mommy’s rhetoric about  “chastity” and “abstinence” didn’t do a whole lot of good.  Jezebel and Steve-o were on the sectional sofa and she was riding him like a pony.  I think Jerry’s retinas are still burning.  Everyone hears about teenage promiscuity, but very few people ever catch them in the act!

So we forbid him to have contact with Jezebel and I take her home. 

The very next evening, he goes missing again.  Where do I find him?  On his BMX bike, on his way to Jezebel’s.

When I get Steve-o home, he and Jerry get into it big time.  To make a long story short, they ended up in a fist fight, Jerry ended up spending two days in the county lock up, and Steve-o got to pursue his high school career 50 miles away from Jezebel.  My final ultimatum was that Steve-o either go to live with my parents, where he would be under Dad’s scrutiny 24/7 and would not be able to get away with so much as a popcorn fart, or he could choose to go to Juvenile Detention. 

Steve-o went to live with my parents which was a blessing in some ways.  He got to discover that Jezebel was not only doing the horizontal mambo with him, but also with several other guys, including his best friend.  He ended up at the vocational school where he developed a passion for automotive repair and electronics, and he is in college continuing his studies in that field.  He has a steady girlfriend who isn’t a tramp and doesn’t really have that large of a chest.  Perhaps at almost 20 years old he is discovering that a woman’s brains do not reside in her boobs.

Now if he can just finish school and get a job…but I know he will.

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