Lisa in the Bedroom

[Author's Note: Here's another story in modest homage to Harddaysknight, the master of the genre. Like my others of this type, the real actual title, not given here, is a Beatles song--in this case one that HDK has already used as well.]

No man will ever be able to understand women. Trust me on this.

If a man tells you he understands women, there are only four possibilities:

1) He's wrong.

2) He's a liar.

3) He's a fucking liar.

4) He's actually not a man at all, but a woman himself.

****************

When you work in an office job for a large firm that develops and markets educational software, the days are not that exciting. Trust me on this. I like my work and I'm good at it, but "exciting" is not the most common description of my workdays.

But one particular Friday back in September was quite unusual. First, around 10 am I got a call from Arianna Lendler, whom I hadn't seen in nearly 20 years.

Ari Lendler and I were second cousins, and we grew up on the same street until I was 12, when her family moved to the west coast. We hung out together constantly--riding bikes, playing Frisbee and kickball, typical kid things--and while we'd totally lost touch over the years, I was delighted to hear from her.

"Are you one of these fitness freaks who eats a yogurt while he's working out on the Stairmaster, Tommy, or can I buy you an actual lunch?"

I laughed and said, "how about an extremely greasy, guaranteed-to-clog-your-arteries cheeseburger? With a large order of onion rings?"

I picked her up at the Hyatt out by the highway, where she was staying for two-day business seminar, and we spent a wonderful hour eating our burgers and just reminiscing. Like me, Ari was happily married, though unlike me and Lisa she and her husband already had a couple of kids. I oohed and aahed over her pictures, we swapped stories of the joys and struggles of married life, and generally just had a terrific time.

When I dropped her off back at the Hyatt we shared a big hug and kiss, along with solemn promises to stay in better touch from now on. I told her that Lisa and I were hoping to take a trip to Chicago next summer, and we'd get together with Ari's family for sure.

I smiled to myself most of the afternoon, looking forward to telling Lisa about my nice visit with someone who had been such an important part of my childhood. But at about 5:15 any thoughts of Ari were completely driven out of my head.

The building's fire alarm went off, and all up and down the hallway people groaned. Another false alarm, we assumed. But when Hank Thomas shouted out that he smelled smoke, we hustled out of our offices and towards the stairs. We were on the ninth floor, but everyone knew to stay away from the elevators.

In the stairway we encountered a panicked secretary coming down from 11, shouting and crying that a co-worker and fallen and broken her leg and couldn't move.

Hank and I headed up to 11, where we found a heavy middle-aged woman sitting on the landing sobbing in pain. Her foot stuck out at an odd angle and her ankle was beginning to swell. We asked her name and calmed her down a little, and then Hank and I together lifted Irene into our arms and carried her down the stairs.

By the time we came out the fire doors, we were happy and relieved to see an ambulance waiting and two paramedics ready to take Irene off our hands. A couple of co-workers gathered around to congratulate us, and in another few minutes the fire crews who were already on the scene had put out the fire.

It had started in a copy room on 6, apparently because some brain-dead asshole had tossed a cigarette butt into a wastebasket. Hard to believe, but then you can never go wrong betting the "over" on human stupidity.

When I got home, Lisa was in the kitchen making a salad and I could smell something like lasagna in the oven.

"Smells great!" I said, coming up and kissing her neck from behind. "You'll never believe what I did today!" I was cheerful and relaxed, and I hardly noticed that Lisa's face looked strained and drawn when she turned to look at me. When I thought about it later, I realized that she'd been crying.

"Oh?" she said, trying to smile and looking a bit less unhappy. She sat down at the table and gazed at me intently. "Something out of the ordinary?"

"You bet--I'm a hero! Well, me and Hank." I went on to tell her the whole story--of course my lunch with Ari had dropped completely out of my mind.

When I was done, I expected a "congratulations," or a kiss and a hug, or a joke about "my hero"--something, anyway.

Instead, Lisa just glared at me. "THAT'S your news today? That's what you wanted to tell me?" Tears came to her eyes, and without another word she jumped up from the table and headed to the bedroom.

"Honey? What's the matter?" I followed, utterly baffled; but when I got there she'd locked the door and refused to let me in.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" was all I could get out of her. I eventually went back to the kitchen, finished making the salad, and took the lasagna out of the oven when the timer went off.

"Lisa? Dinner's ready." I knocked gently and spoke as warmly as I could. But all I got in reply was "I'm not hungry."

So I opened a Corona and had dinner by myself, half-listening to the TV news and wondering what was troubling my usually cheerful and loving wife.

Lisa eventually came out of the bedroom, a couple of hours later, and had some dinner. But she steadfastly refused to talk to me, let alone explain what was bothering her. When I climbed into bed I gave it one last try.

"Honey, I have no idea what you're unhappy about--did I do something to make you angry? Please tell me so I can try to make it right."

"Just leave me alone!" was all she said, in a voice full of tears. And when I heard her a few minutes later crying in the darkness and I reached out to her, she angrily pushed my arm away and cried out "don't touch me!"

So I didn't. But I went to sleep wondering, for the thousandth time, why it was utterly impossible for a man to understand women.

****************

On Saturday I rolled out of bed early, determined to make Lisa a nice breakfast and try to cheer her up--or at least get her to talk to me. We'd been married just under four years and I was totally in love with her. Lisa was gentle, funny, a little shy, and very pretty. She was a lot more "proper" than I was--no doubt the result of being a preacher's daughter from a small Texas town west of San Antonio--but intelligent and sensitive and devoted to me.

I have to say, in fact, that no woman I'd ever dated before, and I'd had a few serious girlfriends, ever made me feel loved like Lisa did. If it sounds like bragging to say that she adored me, then so be it: she adored me. She made me feel every day like I was the ray of sunshine in her life, and I did all I could to make her feel the same way. I was a happier husband than anyone I knew.

So I was pretty baffled by last night's behavior--and it was clear from her face when she came down to breakfast that whatever was going on was still going on.

Lisa accepted my offer of coffee with nothing more than a silent nod, nor did she comment when I filled a plate for each of us with blueberry pancakes and sausages--her favorite breakfast, and something I liked to make for a special treat. She looked like hell: circles under her eyes and a drawn, unhappy expression frozen on her face.

She usually enjoyed it when I read her bits of news from the paper,so I tried that. Nothing. Not a grin, not a snort, not a flicker. She seemed less angry than the night before, but more sad.

"Lisa, honey--please, can't we talk about it? Won't you let me know what's bothering you?" She glared at me and shook her head. I could almost hear the words: "if you don't know, you moron, I'm certainly not going to tell you."

Sighing, I got up to get us each some more coffee. Then I tried again. I asked what was new at her work. Lisa was co-manager of a specialty florist shop in town. She was an absolute genius at floral arranging, and her shop did a good business with the local hotels and the two nearby hospitals.

Lisa said, "nothing's new."

I asked if she'd heard from her parents lately, and wondered whether they'd come for a summer visit.

"I don't know."

I went back through the paper until I found a tiny story on page 3 of the Metro section about the fire at my office, and I read it to her. Jokingly I said, "I can't believe Hank and I didn't get mentioned--we saved that lady's life! They ought to give us keys to the city!"

"Very funny," she said.

More baffled than ever, I was determined not to give up. I racked my brain for something to entertain her with.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" I said. "I was going to tell you about this last night, but then the whole thing with the fire pushed it right out of my mind. My cousin Ari Lendler--you remember the one who grew up on my street? She called me out of the blue yesterday. She was in town for some conference out at the Hyatt, and we had a great visit over lunch. She lives in Chicago now, she's married and has two little girls, 7 and 4--the cutest kids, judging by the pictures. They're--"

I glanced at Lisa and stopped, astonished. There were tears streaming down her face but she was smiling radiantly. Before I could say another word she came around the table, plopped herself in my lap with her arms around my neck, and started planting kisses on my face.

"Oh, Tommy, I love you so much!" she said, pausing to look right into my eyes. Then she kissed me some more, moving to my lips and getting my complete attention.

After a couple of minutes she got up, still beaming at me, and took me by the hand. "I think I need something..." she said, and led me into the bedroom.

When we got there she dropped her robe, pulled her nightie over her head--not without a little blush, as Lisa was quite modest and not used to being naked in the daylight--and said, "make love to me, Tommy."

She came back into my arms, kissing me again as she got the pajamas and bathrobe off me, and in no time we were passionately making love. Lisa was as enthusiastic as I'd ever seen her; as I've said, she was a preacher's daughter and not exactly what you'd call uninhibited.

In fact, when we got married I learned that she didn't know too much about sex beyond the missionary position, and her acquaintance with oral sex or such things as sex outside the bedroom was purely theoretical.

Certainly our sex life was pretty vanilla. Lisa seemed to be much more concerned about pleasing me than about exploring her own sexuality. But we still made love at least a couple of times a week, and she was affectionate and receptive. If it wasn't hot like most guys' fantasy lives, and if the blowjobs were a rare occurrence (and timidly performed), I was still pretty happy about what I was getting.

And that Saturday morning it was still vanilla--just hot vanilla. Lisa was all over me, kissing and touching, stroking my back as we fucked (in missionary position, of course), rubbing her legs on mine, telling me how much she loved me. It was some of the sweetest lovemaking we'd ever had.

And if I was still totally, 100% baffled about what the hell was going on with her--well, I certainly knew enough not to initiate a discussion!

When it was over we lay together, sweaty, and dozed in each other's arms. It wasn't until she roused herself after awhile and started kissing my neck that I ventured a question.

"Lisa? What just happened here? Why were you so upset last night, and then suddenly so--" I laughed--"so amorous?

"Not that I'm complaining, mind you! I just--"

She shut me up with another long kiss and then sat back, smiling, looking loving and abashed.

"Promise me you won't laugh at me, okay Tommy?"

I nodded, and she said, "I was doing a delivery yesterday at the Hyatt, around lunchtime. They'd ordered six big arrangements for a late-afternoon wedding, and it was a rather complicated set-up. I was ... wait, all that's beside the point.

"Anyway, I'd just pulled in and parked the van when I looked toward the entrance. And there you were, in the arms of this beautiful brunette! You hugged her for a long time, and then gave her a big kiss; and then the two of you talked and laughed for another minute. Then you kissed her again, and she went back into the hotel and you got in your car and drove away.

"I couldn't believe it! I mean, I love you so much and I thought we were both so happy--and there you were, cheating on me with some, some, bombshell! I started to cry, and it took me almost twenty minutes to pull myself together.

"I finally managed to take the flowers in, and then I went back to the shop and said I had to leave early, and I came home and cried all afternoon."

By now of course I understood the story, and I was holding her hand and looking lovingly at Lisa as she continued.

"I didn't know what I was going to do. I love you so much, but how could I stay with you if you were having an affair?

"When you came home and said something special happened that day, for a split second I thought, 'thank God, I'm wrong--it's not what I thought!' But then you told me about you and Hank and the fire, and I figured you were just making a big deal about something else and I was right all along.

"And then this morning--" she broke off to look at me, a little sheepish, "when you made that nice breakfast and tried so hard to cheer me up, I thought, 'well, he still must want to be married to me, or why else would he be so nice?'

"But I knew I just couldn't stand letting you ... letting you see that other woman. And then you told me it was your cousin, the one I've heard you tell me so many stories about...

"And I felt so happy! And like the biggest fool, both at the same time..."

Lisa broke off, tears in her eyes again, and I comforted her and we laughed together and then we made love again, sweetly; and I felt like a very, very happy man.

****************

Sounds great, right? A little marital miscommunication with a happy ending and some great make-up sex. Nothing to worry about--actually a happy memory to joke and tease Lisa about as the years go by.

So why is it that five months later I'm sitting in a rented Ford Taurus parked across the street from Lisa's shop, waiting to see what she's up to today? How the FUCK did we get from there to here?

As I told you, I couldn't imagine being better treated by a wife than I was by Lisa, so I was hardly a suspicious husband. But about a month after that little mix-up about Ari, things started to happen.

Good things, at least at first. To put it bluntly, my sex life started improving. And it wasn't my doing, it was Lisa's.

One Saturday night we went out to dinner, but when we were ready for dessert Lisa said she wanted to have it at home. "I have a surprise for you," she said quietly, smiling at me. And when we got home she told me to sit in the living room for a few minutes. "Watch a ballgame or something, honey, until I come back."

Well, this sounded mysterious, but promising! I caught about an inning of the Reds giving up eight runs to the Cubs (only two of them earned--don't ask), until Lisa walked into the room carrying a tray.

What a sight! On the tray was some kind of fruit tart, plus a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses. But I hardly noticed that, because Lisa was a vision. Her hair was swept up around her head so that her graceful neck showed; and she was wearing only a short red nightie that barely covered her pubes. It was nearly transparent, and a pair of red lacy underpants were clearly visible underneath. When she turned around I could see that it was a thong, the first one I'd ever seen Lisa wear.

"You like?" she asked. My jaw dropped and I just stared at her. Lisa was blushing and even trembling a little, as though she was trying hard not to give in to the urge to cover herself with her hands.

After a moment I recovered enough to say, "damn right I like. That tart looks delicious!"

Lisa made a mock-angry face, but I said, "and you don't look so bad either, baby. Turn around and let me get the whole effect."

She modeled the outfit for me, then cut the tart and poured us each a fizzy glass of champagne. I insisted she sit on my lap while we ate and drank, and we toasted each other with one arm around each other. She wriggled her butt gently against the hard cock tenting the front of my pants.

When we'd eaten the dessert I said, "this sure is a nice surprise," nuzzling and kissing her neck; and Lisa said, "let's take the champagne upstairs."

She grabbed the bottle and let me follow her, enjoying the view of her shapely ass through the nightie as we headed for the bedroom. When we got there she undressed me without a word, then sat me down on the edge of the bed and knelt in between my legs, holding her champagne glass in one hand and staring right at my hard-on.

"Tommy, I want to...could I, uh..."

"Sure, honey--I'd love that." I grinned at her; who cares if Lisa feels too shy to say "give you a blowjob," as long as I get the blowjob? Hers were always a little hesitant, but I still enjoyed them.

This one was a corker, though, with tricks that nearly took my head off. She began by taking it into her mouth and getting the top five inches or so wet--that was as far as she could take me. But then Lisa backed off and started licking me from base to tip, like an ice-cream cone. I'd seen this in porn, but she'd sure never done it to me before and I loved every minute.

The whole time Lisa was watching me, making sure I was enjoying it. She alternated the licking with the usual sucking. Then she broke off to take a mouthful of her champagne and sucked my cock back into her mouth. Wow! The fizzy, bubbly feeling around my dick was tremendous, and I groaned and arched my hips towards her.

She pulled off me, swallowed the champagne and said, "you like that, baby?"

"Unbelievable," I said. "Where did you--?"

But she just took another mouthful of champagne and did me again. She gave me this treat about 4-5 times, then started sucking me intently, stroking my balls with her hand, sliding down my cock as far as she could go and then backing off, building me up to a monster climax.

I knew Lisa didn't like it when I came in her mouth, so as I got close I said, "baby, I'm gonna cum..." But she didn't back off, just kept working on me, and I groaned and jerked my hips and pumped a half-dozen shots right into her mouth.

It was awesome, the best blowjob she'd ever given me. I leaned back on my elbows, drained, expecting her to jump up and run to the bathroom sink to spit. Instead, she smiled at me, looking a little uncomfortable, and I watched her throat working as she swallowed all of the cum in her mouth. Then she took a long drink of champagne, grinning at me, and said, "how was that?"

I pulled her up and took her in my arms, lying with me on the bed. "That was fantastic, honey--unbelievable. Awesome! Where did you get the idea about the champagne?"

She giggled. "Oh, one of the girls at work was talking about special things she does for her boyfriend. But I'm not telling you which one--I don't want you chasing after her!"

I kissed her and said, "nothing to worry about. But tell her thanks for me, okay?"

We laughed, and rested, and pretty soon we were touching and caressing and pretty soon after that we were fucking. Lisa assumed I'd want her to take her nightie and thong off but I asked her to leave them on. I got her up on all fours and did her from behind, pulling the crotch of the thong to one side so I could slide into her, and we had a terrific fuck.

Usually when I try to caress her clit while we're fucking she stops me, says it's distracting--but this time when I slid one hand around her and down into her thong she just groaned and pushed back against me harder. I was able to last a long time, thanks to the blowjob, and she came at least twice before I got so worked up I had to come into her.