Lying Young Ch. 01

"Um...well, okay, I suppose a little breakfast couldn't hurt."

"Great. C'mon in."

Before she could even get the door shut, Dori's phone rang yet again. Dori hopped around Lesley with a quick, "Whoop—'scuse me," and tippy-toed back to check the display. Lesley watched as her expression lost interest.

Sigh. "Dumb unknown numbers."

Lesley found a place to rest her catalogues. "Uh, first of all, may I please ask your..."

Dori trotted into the kitchen. The next few seconds were filled by the sounds of drawers and cupboards being opened and smacked shut. Another moment later, Dori returned with a glass, a dish, a bowl and a spoon. She set them down in a meager spot on the table. A little too enthusiastically, Lesley thought, considering their breakability. She finished her question.

"...Name?"

"Oh." Dori turned back Lesley's way, took her right paw and pajama-curtsied. "Joslyn Jollygood. Nice to meet'cha."

She proceeded to start pouring Lesley some cereal and milk. Lesley began to continue, but was drowned out by the sound of Golden Grahams tinkling into the bowl. She paused. She was a bit shy by nature, and didn't have the most commanding voice to begin with.

"Okay, well, Miss...Jollygood...Cliegman is an academic institution that proudly boasts th—"

Dori, figuring she could listen to her cartoons and guest at the same time, pressed mute on the remote to bring the sound back. Lesley's voice was this time dwarfed by its blare. Dori promptly turned it down.

"Sorry, guess I didn't realize how loud I had that. Please, have a seat. Go ahead, I'm listening."

She perched herself, gesturing to the other bowl of cereal. A bit bemused and perturbed, Lesley nonetheless did as told.

Where was I...oh, yes. "Right. Well, Cliegman Academy offers a wide collection of advantages, especially to students who're w—"

The cell rang yet again, cutting Lesley off once more.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Dori sighed, checking the display. "Yeah, just as I thought. I'm sorry, honey. I've been getting all these calls from numbers I don't even know. It's so annoying. Y'know what, I'm just gonna put it on silent mode here...there. You were saying?"

Lesley started to stand back up. "I'm sorry, maybe this was a mistake. You're obviously very busy, and I just dropped in on you..."

"Oh, no, no, please," Dori insisted. "Look, I...I know how this seems, but it's...it's just these dumb calls. I'm not really that busy at all; I'm just taking it easy." While in semi-truth mode, she extended her paw. "I'm Dori, by the way. Dori Sutherton."

Very befuddled, and rather at a loss for words, Lesley slowly reached to shake.

"Lesley Walker..."

Dori picked up some documents from the table and sifted rapidly through them.

"Here, I'll prove it. This just came in the mail yesterday. See? There's my real name. Or may God strike me dead."

Lesley took a look. "That says Dori Young."

"No, it doesn't." Dori quickly buried the letter under the other items, placing them on her side of the table.

"Go ahead, go on. What were you saying about, eh...about your college?"

Lesley thought for a moment. Her attempt was unsuccessful.

"...I'm sorry, I seem to've lost my train of thought."

Dori shrugged. "Ah, no big deal; I didn't have a ticket anyway."

Her collegiate visitor took a spare catalogue. "Well, y'know what? Perhaps I'll just give you a catalogue and an application, and, uh...oh, and here's the number for the registration office. Just in case you're interested. Or know someone who is."

Dori arched her eyebrows. "Really?" The corners of her lips curled up just a bit.

"Is there, eh...is there any way I could, maybe...contact you, directly, by chance?"

"Well, I'm on the Student Council, but your best bet'd be to contact the president if you have questions. Would you like his number?"

It would seem Dori's semi-aggressive flirtation failed to carry the desired effect. She reflexively lied first, as usual.

"Okay. Uh, no, no, no, y'know what, actually, that's not necessary. I'm sure I could find whatever info I'd want in the catalogue."

Lesley nodded. "Fair enough. Say, um...oh, shoot. I'm so crummy with names. What was it again...?"

"Oh." Dori again offered her hand for a curtsy. "Fiona Funderplatz. Junior."

An amused look crossed Lesley's face. Somehow, based on their conversation thus far, she was expecting an oddball answer such as this. She cocked her head, suspiciously accepting the pawshake once more.

"...Really?"

Dori chuckled. "All right, ya got me. Dori Young."

Lesley gave an exclamation of enlightenment. "See, I knew that's what it said on that envelope, I knew it." She paused a beat.

"Well, then, if that's your real name, why make up all those weird other ones?"

"Funny you should ask," said Dori. "Believe it or not, I'm in the Witness Protection Program. And my mother is a pelican."

The puzzled Lesley smirked, raising one skeptical eyebrow.

"...I, eh...find that quite difficult to believe."

"As well you should. That wasn't my best work. If you believe that, I've got some farmland in Iowa to sell you."

"Your 'best work'? What exactly are you saying?"

This time Dori didn't answer. She seemed to turn shy and look down at her toes. Lesley gave her a gentle verbal prod.

"...What do you mean? Are you, like, some kinda OCD liar?...Or just a great story-maker-upper?"

Whenever reaching this point with a new individual, Dori found herself faced with a degree of apprehension. She was a sweet girl, and wanted people to like her. But this desire couldn't surpass her self-coercive dishonesty. And if she wasn't trying to impress someone, there was little trepidation in confessing the truth. With this Lesley Walker, however, with her silky, baby soft-looking chestnut hair, hazel eyes behind those spectactacles, and...everything else she had going on...Dori really didn't want to blow it, so to speak. The girl'd already been gracious enough to accept her impromptu breakfast invitation. If Dori were to be honest—quite the concept for her—she was hoping to possibly parlay breakfast into future encounters. On the other hand, she mustn't misinterpret Lesley's feelings. Despite her curiosity, she could still be looking simply to interest her in Cliegman Academy. And Dori wasn't taken with college pursuits. She absolutely loved her job, was happy with her ratio of work to leisure time, and wished to keep it that way. Yet, Lesley'd just asked her a(nother) question. She didn't know how much time passed before she came up with a response, but finally spat it out.

"...It's-it's nothing."

Lesley gazed at her with a hint of intrigue.

"'Nothing'?"

Lesley thus far found Dori a fair bit fascinating. And appealing, with her own features Lesley could visually enjoy. She had straight flax blonde hair, a bubbly face, and struck Lesley as an even prettier Chelsea Handler. Though her eyes were a different hue, about halfway between hazel and brown themselves. She saw nothing wrong with Dori's hands or feet either, which while still in her bunny-printed jammies, were all else Lesley could see. As for her mind, Lesley wanted to know a bit more. She wasn't wild about falsehoods in general (who would be, after all), but questioned whether Dori had as much control over her lies as did anyone else. She was certain there were ways to get honest answers out of her. But Lesley didn't want to force them. She wanted to get to know Dori better. She tried to think of something simple to lie about. Something concrete, factual. She pretended to go into her purse and not find something.

"...Oh. Y'know what, Dori? I think I forgot my day planner. What's today's date?"

Dori's response was perfectly succinct, matter-of-fact and to the point.

"It's July 11th, 1991."

Lesley pointed a finger at her. "It is not. It's March 24th, 2012. I'm sorry I lied to you, but I just had to see."

Dori nodded. "You're right. July 11th, '91's my birthday."

Lesley giggled in amusement. "Wow, you are a compulsive liar, aren't you. Gosh, Dori, that's...you oughta get a job doing the weather."

"Oh, don't be silly, silly," Dori waved a hand. "I already do do the weather."

She earned herself another laugh. Lesley's merry face and musical chortle charmed her. And Dori loved the way her glasses hugged her cute button nose and her smiling cheekbones. She found herself wanting to make her laugh more and more.

"Why do you do it?" was the next question Lesley asked.

"The weather?"

Another laugh. "No, ya goofy, not the weather; the lying."

Dori turned a tad leery, now that it came time to be forthcoming. She paused again. Lesley realized this may've seemed a little snoopy.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be...well, nosy," she smirked, tapping her cute nose. "It's just interesting to me. See, one of my courses this year's psychology, and it's got me really fascinated with human behavior. Although it doesn't take much to get me to study. Since I was a kid, I've always just been..." She paused for a breath and a pensive smile. "...Learning everything there was to learn."

"Ha," Dori grinned haughtily. "I got nothing but perfect straight A-plusses from kindergarten to college."

Lesley giggled, giving Dori a single innocent pat on the arm, which did not go unnoticed.

"No, but seriously though."

It was truth time. Dori took another breath.

"Well, seriously though...have you ever seen the movie Stranger Than Fiction?"

"Ummm...I think, but it was a while ago."

"Okay, well, in the movie, Maggie Gyllenhaal's this baker who was in college, right? And she had to participate in these intensive study sessions with her classmates. So to keep people from starving through them, she'd make all kinds of sweets and treats and stuff. And everybody loved them, they helped people do better...all except her. Her grades never improved. So instead of having notebooks full of notes, hers were full of recipes. So she dropped out. Back to her a little later.

"So now, in my case...I really did get As and Bs in first and second grade. But by third...well, it wasn't like I stopped trying. But I guess I just wasn't gifted. From third grade on, my grades were just...average, at best. And on top of that, a lot of my classmates made my life a living hell in school. Y'know, kids can be so mean. But so can adults. On top of that, I got the feeling some of my teachers just didn't like me. Like they'd deliberately confuse me so I'd screw up my assignments and they could flunk me. So, I don't wanna turn this into a sob story, but after a while I started feeling like, what's the point? So in high school I was hardly even trying anymore, y'know? I just didn't care. And I was mad, 'cause it was like I was just going to school to get picked on.

"So long Dori short, some...stuff happened. And let's not go into details, but by senior year, the school sent some teachers to our house to home-teach me instead. So that's how I finally got through high school. And my Dad was so excited for me to go to college—he's my best friend, by the way, my Dad—'cause I was his only kid, and he never had the opportunity. I didn't wanna break his heart. So I went, for a little while...till I realized it just wasn't working for me. I mean, people were mature enough now that they weren't being jerks and harassing me anymore. But I still didn't get anything out of it.

"And...so, that movie, Stranger Than Fiction, came out when I was in high school. I didn't see it at first. A friend showed it to me some years later. And I just idolized Maggie Gyllenhaal's character. She was tough when she had to be, she didn't take crap, she stuck by her beliefs...but she could also be shy and sweet and cute. And to be honest...I was sweet on her too. Oh my gosh, Lesley, in the bakery scene, with Will Ferrell, where she's telling him her whole story, at one point she talks about all the treats and desserts she brought to her study sessions. And...just the way she goes through it, her voice is so...hot. It...it just..."

Dori paused to release the shiver that wanted out.

"...It just really turned me on. She inspired me so much, and I loved her bakery. I know it was just a movie set, but it made me wanna work in a real one myself. And that's one area where, thank God, I am actually gifted. So fast-forward a couple years later...now I am."

Lesley's eyebrows rose. She paused before answering, giving her head a little shake.

"...Wow," she finally assessed. "That's...quite a story. Well, I'm sorry for your misfortunes, but I'm glad it all worked out. But if that's the truth...and you're already in a job you like, that could turn into your future career, you probably don't need me. And, I've just about finished my cereal. Guess this means I should probably be on my way, huh?"

Dori didn't exactly want that to happen. She was very much enjoying the company, but supposed her guest had to leave at some point. She wanted to say something to try and get her to stay longer, but knew it would turn into a lie.

"Well, I...uh..."

But as it turned out, she didn't have to say anything else. Lesley came up with an idea.

"Hey, actually, Dori, y'know what? I think someone like you'd make a really neat case study for me, learning psychology now and all. You know, the fine line between the compulsive lie and the...not so compulsive lie?" She opened her purse and rummaged a bit before finding a university card to give her. "How's that sound?"

Dori accepted the card and studied its info. That was Lesley's name all right, complete with a phone number and e-mail. She was suddenly very happy she'd asked her in. She gazed back up at Lesley, whose lips were about to cross the threshold of a smile. Now that Lesley knew her deal, Dori answered with one "obligatory" false word, but in the loveliest tone of voice she could manage.

"Totally sounds like the worst thing ever."

Lesley's eyes again widened, rightly believing this statement to be just what it was.

"Does...that mean..."

"Yes!" said the excited Dori, now with the lie out of the way. She laid the card down, pushed to her feet and gave Lesley a hug.

"Oh. Uh...okay..." Lesley was caught off-guard by the abrupt affection, but supposed out of all the things Dori could have done at that moment, a hug was far from the worst. She politely reciprocated, patting Dori's back. "Okay. Thanks."

Dori let her go, picked up her cell phone and unlocked it. "Do you want my number?" she asked.

Lesley gently slipped Dori's phone from her hand and dialed her own number with it. A moment later, they heard it ring in her purse. "Got it."

"Cool," Dori chuckled. "So, eh...next time then?"

Lesley picked up her catalogues and adjourned to the front door. "Next time then.

"Oh, and, um..." she smiled, turning the knob to let herself out. She nodded at Dori's pajamas.

"Cute bunnies."

She departed. Dori looked down, reminding herself. She was still wearing this pair of p.j.s she'd bought herself one Easter, almost as a joke. But they were comfy, cozy, and did their job. Half-embarrassed, she blushed red, covered her face and laughed.

*****

The Young And The Breathless

Quick flashback to two days before: Thursday, March 22nd, 2012, 7:18 p.m.

Dori loved being a Young woman. Moreover, she loved practically all other young women. She'd nothing against mature gals or cougars but didn't think they'd go for such a naïve virgin waif like her. She'd never had sex with anyone other than herself, and was frankly a little intimidated by her first time. She wanted to date someone, settle in with her and invest some trust before blasting herself out of the virginity pool like a cannonball. Someone pretty, nice, and smart, preferably. Someone...whose initials were L.W., perhaps?

She didn't know if Lesley was a virgin too, but thought that either way, she might just be the one. The person wonderful and nurturing enough to take her under her sexual wing, and guide her through this daunting new realm. It crossed her mind that it might be easier to have a few drinks and loosen herself up first...though booze and Dori were far from friends. Alcohol was a big source of friction between Dori and her mother. The constant lying was Dori's issue. This was one thing, but the person her Mom Viola turned into under the influence of booze was quite another. Dori didn't like her mother's drinking, and her Mom didn't like Dori's dishonesty. Sometimes she wondered how her father Simon managed to put up with either of them.

But now wasn't the time to think about this. Dori shut off the lights as it began to get dark, closed the blinds and removed her clothes. She might not be ready to make love to another person, but couldn't be much comfier in her own skin with her own naked body. She was halfway there, at least. Furthermore, she was a prolific masturbator. She achieved about eight to ten climaxes per week, some in multiple succession. And she was convinced all the "climaction," as she called it, contributed in large part to her mostly jolly mood. Speaking of her mood, depending on it, she might use her trusty vibrator, or her own fingers. Other variables in play included the object of her fantasizing, the scenario in her mind, and how focused she was. The really explosive orgasms took toll on her stamina, pussy, voice and lungs, and left her a little tender in the girl-parts. But not too tender for her to keep going. Sometimes she went at herself till she dizzied out and fell sound asleep. More often than that, with a drooly, afterglowy grin on her face.

Not only did Dori feel iotas of affection for almost every girl she met, she fantasized about a lot of them as well. She operated fast in this regard. Two days ago, she'd met Dr. Deborah Morelli for their introductory session, gone home, and jilled into oblivion thinking about her. Even though she hadn't known her six hours. And even though the good doctor was probably straighter than a road in North Dakota. That didn't stop Dori. She never felt post-fantasy emotions of turmoil, or unhealthy attachment seeing the person again. These were sex fantasies in her mind, that was all; she never acted on them, but just moved from one to the next. Sometimes she chatted up a cute girl in the mall or the supermarket for a minute, just to cook up a little fantasy later on. They could be younger, a bit older, straight, gay, married, single, it didn't matter. All Dori did was imagine and masturbate...and no one was any the wiser.

And truly, that was the way she liked it. It was on the same wavelength of her personality as the compulsive lying. Another thing that belonged to her and no one else. Dori could lie to every person she met, but she couldn't lie to her own mind and libido. She liked what she liked. And she was turned on by what turned her on. And what turned her on most...were long, sensual, sultry liplocks. Soft and tender, but hot and heavy, sizzling kisses of fire, lasting minutes that felt like hours. Rubbing bods and touching special spots was all fine and good, but somehow, without the (face's) lips involved, the rest of the act didn't quite make it for Dori.

Going solo, however, the delight of kissing another pair of lips—facial or vaginal—was a bit tough to achieve. Dori was no contortionist, and unfortunately couldn't reach mouth to pussy. But that was okay; she could lick and suck her fingers, even her vibrator if so desired, and those were more than capable of doing the job. She just rested her head, shut her eyes, puckered up and pretended. If one hand was unoccupied, she made a loose fist, fashioning fake "lips," and pressing her pinky into service as a tongue. She fantasized herself back in Dr. Morelli's office, sprawled out naked on the couch, which she imagined her own couch was. She behaved naughty, pleasuring and playing with herself during their session. Then of course, Dr. Debbie had to address it, which was where the real fun came in.