Such are the dreams of the everyday housewife (PG)

This one needs a little cleaning up and editing...

Gary rang the doorbell and stepped back away from the door.  He stood
on the edge of porch, looking through the dusk light down the tree-lined
street.  Not because he was interested in the neighborhood, but because he
felt he looked cooler being disinterested.  He wore a high school letterman's
jacket with seven large safety pins on the left side above the letter.  At
his feet was his dufflebag containing his wrestling uniform.
        The door opened and Gary turned slowly around, trying to appear aloof
and self-assured.  But a different face than he expected stared out at him.
"Oh, hi, Mrs. Johnson," he blurted.  "I just came around to talk to Sandy.
Is Sandy around?"
        The woman standing in the doorway smiled, amused at the boy's surprise
and subsequent attempt to regain his composure.  "She's out with Stacy and
Gina, Gary," she said.  "But she'll probably be home soon.  Would you like to
come in and wait?"  The boy looked down the street and then down at his bag.
After straining to delay his answer, he agreed.  "Sure, I guess I'll come in
for a little while," he said.
        As he followed the woman into the house he remarked how tall she was--
probably taller than he was, 5'8".  Sandy was tall, too, but she was more
gangly than her mother.  Gary noted that underneath her gray sweatshirt, Mrs.
Johnson had broad shoulders for a woman, and her rear was certainly full but
quite attractive to a boy of 16 underneath the close fitting jeans.
        "Sit down," said the woman, motioning to a sofa.  "Would you like
anything to drink?  A coke?"
        "No thanks, I'm in training," said Gary.  Mrs. Johnson smiled as she
sat down on the sofa next to Gary.  She pulled her knees up onto the sofa and
sat sideways.
        "In training?" she asked, amused at how seriously he had answered.  She
leaned her head against her hand, her elbow resting on the back of the sofa.
"What are you in training for?" she asked.  As she talked she stared intently
at him with her deep blue eyes.  Her lips remained in a partial smile, as she
was amused at his inability to return her eye contact.
        "Oh, I'm on the wrestling team."  This she already knew, and she didn't
say anything, just stared at him with her faint smile.  She could tell that
she made him nervous.  "I'm doing pretty good this year.  I wrestle in the
135 pound weight class."
        The woman laughed.  "Well, I guess I've grown out of that one, Gary,"
she exclaimed, slapping her thigh with her left hand.
        "Oh, yeah," Gary said, "you really have to stay in shape if you
wrestle.  No fat guys on the team at all."
        Mrs. Johnson laughed again, and Gary got the feeling she was laughing
at him.  "What did I say," he asked.  "Did I do something wrong?"
        "Never mind, Gary."  She still smiled at him, and he grew more
uncomfortable.  "Tell me more about the team.  What's it like to wrestle?"
        "Oh, it's great, if you're in shape."  She smiled again, but he
continued.  "It's sort of the ultimate contest, the test of human strength
and will.  Just man against man."  The woman nodded and choked back laughter,
wondering what the coach was like.  The boy continued.  "Nobody can help you
when you're out there--it's just you against your opponent, and the best man
always wins."
        "Sounds like a real male thing," she commented.
        "Uh, yeah, I guess."  Gary paused, unsure what the woman meant by this.
"I guess it's like lions fighting to decide who gets to keep all the
lionesses.  The dominant lion wins."  He nodded triumphantly at being able to
come up with this response.
        "It sounds so noble," she said with a straight face.
        "Oh, yeah," he replied.  "It's the only real Olympic sport, you know."
She wondered where he got this stuff.
        "Oh," she said.  There was a silence.  The boy looked around the room.
The woman followed the movement of his eyes.  In the space of twenty seconds
he looked at the clock, her white tennis shoes and pink ankle socks, her left
hand resting on her thigh, the Cosmopolitan magazine she had been reading,
her chest, and finally at his gymbag.  He didn't return her gaze.  She broke
the silence.  "How are you doing this season?"
        "What?"
        "In wrestling.   Are you winning your matches?"
        "Oh, yeah, I'm doing pretty good.  See, for everybody I pin, I get a
safety pin.  I've got seven here."  He pointed to the pins in his jacket.
She nodded appreciatively.  He continued.  "Tuesday night I pinned a guy from
Crawford with the cradle.  I like that one.  Nobody gets out of my cradle."
        "Nobody has ever gotten out?"
        "Nope, and nobody will."  He laughed, but then stopped abruptly.


        "Why don't you show me some holds, Gary?"
        He paused.  This was not what he expected.  "I don't know.  Maybe if
Sandy isn't here I better get on back home and do my homework."
        "Oh, come on, Gary.  Sandy will be back soon, and I know she'd love to
see you.  I promise you won't hurt me, as long as you go slow."  She stood up
and walked to the middle of the living room floor.  "Here, help me move the
coffee table back against the sofa."  He obeyed.
        "Okay," she said, skipping to the middle of the room.  "Here I am.
What do we do first?"  He stood still and didn't say anything, so she took
the initiative.  "Come on Gary.  Here, let me take your jacket."  As he
removed it she wrapped her hand around his bicep.  "You have been working
out, haven't you."  He instinctively drew back and blushed.
        "Yeah . . . uh, yeah."
        "Now what do we do first?"
        "Well, there are three periods.  The first period starts with us both
on our feet, and we try to take each other down."  He paused.  "That means we
try to knock each other off our feet."
        "How do you do that?"
        The boy tried to explain this somehow without actually touching the
woman, but she was persistent.  "OK," he said.  "This is the single leg
sweep.  I'll do it slow."  He kneeled and darted forward, grabbing one of the
woman's legs.  "See, now I can pull up and tip you over . . ."  He lifted her
leg slowly as she talked, until she lost her balance.  She fell down
backwards easily.  "Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
        "Gary, I'm not breakable," she laughed, lying back.  "So now that I'm
down, what happens?"  He paused.  He tried to think of a pinning hold that
didn't involve close contact with her chest or head.  "Oh . . . there are
lots of pins.  I could put a half-nelson on you, or a cradle, or . . ."
        The woman sat up while he remained kneeling in front of her.  She
sensed the boy's frustration and knew that he didn't want to show her any
other moves.  "You know what?  I have a wrestling move I used to use on my
boyfriends that you probably don't know.  Probably can't escape."  She said
this with a taunt in her voice, projecting her lower jaw out.  For some
reason, all Gary could look at was her lower lip, polished with dark shiny
pink lipstick.
        "What move is that?" he asked hesitantly.
        "The tickle lock!" she yelled, throwing both her legs up and around the
boy's midsection.   He tried to roll away but she had caught him with her
surprise attack, and now she dug her long fingers into his ribs and
underarms.  He laughed hysterically,  trying half-heartedly to free himself.
She had trapped his right arm with her legs, while his left arm remained free
to try to fend off both of her marauding hands.  But it didn't seem
appropriate to struggle too hard.  She wasn't going to do it for long.
        Soon, though, the tickling changed from enjoyable to aggravating.  Her
red fingernails were beginning to bruise and scratch his skin.  He stopped
laughing.  She continued until she saw that he was really starting to fight
back.  He held her right hand at bay while she continued the onslaught with
her left.
        The woman then rolled until she sat on top of the boy's stomach.  Her
left leg held his right arm to the ground, and she forced his left wrist to
the carpet beside his head with her right hand.  Her face was directly above
his.  "I think I've pinned you, Gary," she gloated.
        The boy was quiet.  He lay still, not struggling, just waiting for the
woman to release him.  When he saw that she wasn't moving, he said, "Aw, . .
.. I wasn't exactly trying, Mrs. Johnson."
        "You had to give me a head start.  Let's start again now, with me on
top.  Go ahead, try now, see if you can get me off."
        "I don't really want to," he said.  "Someone might get hurt, and--"
        "You won't hurt me.  What's the matter, afraid of a woman?"  She
laughed, holding her face close to Gary's.  He finally returned her stare.
For some reason all he could look at was her eye make-up.  None of his
opponents had ever worn eye make-up.
        If she wants to wrestle, I'll at least throw her off, he thought.  He
bridged his neck up and pushed his feet against the floor, arching his back
to throw the woman up.  But instead of falling forward over his head, as he
had expected, she lifted her body up herself with her legs.  Then she dropped
onto his abdomen with her full weight (150 pounds), crushing him back to the
carpet.  This knocked the wind out of him.  While he lay dazed, she raised
herself up and dropped down on him again and he grunted.  Finding this to be
an effective technique, the woman bounced on the boy five more times, her
short brown hair flying up and down around her head, each time knocking a
little more breath from his chest.  She grinned as though she were riding a
horse over a rocky trail.  Finally she stopped and re-secured her grasp on
the boy's wrists.  He struggled, pushing first one arm and then the other a
foot off the ground before the big woman forced them flat against the carpet
again.  With the leverage she had leaning over top of him, he couldn't
overpower her.
        He lay still and tried to think of a plan.  Meanwhile she rose up again
and dropped back down, this time pinning his arms down with her knees.  She
took his chin in her right hand, digging her fingernails lightly into his
skin.  "I thought you said you were good, Gary?" she asked him softly,
slightly taunting him.  He thought of bridging up again, but his back ached
from her bouncing.  "I just didn't want to hurt you," he managed to say.
        "Oh, of course.  I'm glad you didn't hurt me," she said sarcastically.
"I was worried there for a minute."  He squirmed and struggled, but she
squeezed his jaw and ordered him to stop with her eyes.  He lay still again.
"Well," she said as though speaking to herself.  "I've got a young male
helpless here.  What shall I do?"  She continued holding his face to force
him to look up at her smirk.  An idea came to her.
        "If I can beat him up so easily," she gloated, "then maybe he's not
really a man.  Or maybe men are the weaker sex."  She leaned way over and
pulled something from the side of the sofa.  He saw that it was her purse.
She removed a tube of lipstick.  He lay motionless, trying to devise a plan
for turning the tables, and curious to see what she was doing.  She removed
the top from the lipstick and screwed out an inch.  Holding the tube in her
left hand, she once again held the boy's jaw in her right.  A deep fear set
in, and Gary squirmed and kicked frantically.  How could this be happening?
How could this untrained woman have pinned him, without even using real
wrestling moves?  He couldn?ft let her put the lipstick on him.
        The back door opened.  ?gMom??h a voice called.  It was Sandy.
Fortunately, they could hear her rummaging in the kitchen for a snack.
        The woman quickly rose from her victim.  ?gSaved by the bell,?h she
whispered.  ?gJust remember, if you ever do Sandy wrong, I won?ft be so nice.?h
She winked to Gary, who tried to regain his composure.
        ?gWe?fre in here, honey,?h Mrs. Johnson called to her daughter.  ?gGary?fs
here; you?fre quite a lucky gal to have such a stud for a boyfriend.?h  Sandy
entered the room just as her mother finished speaking.
        ?gOh, mom,?h she said, ?gyou?fve made Gary blush!  Don?ft flatter him like
that!?h