His Wife

by Bree Branigan

  Lisa liked this. In fact, she liked it more that she thought she would. In both life and love she had always been the dominant one, always the one in control but as she got older, wiser, richer, all she wanted was for a man to take control. Could he be the one to take her to places that she had never been?

  “If I had to guess,” he continued, “I’d say, judging by the fancy clothes, the fact that you don’t often go places with minimum card payment and, of course, that great set of wheels outside… I’d say that you were one of those career women who spent her twenties and thirties building a great career.” He downed his drink and signaled the barmaid for another.

  When he could see that his signal had been noted, he turned back to Lisa. His eyes crinkled, smiling. “If I had to guess, I’d say you work with money, lots of it, and it’s your job to spend it. Life’s been good, but now you’re worried that love has passed you by.”

  The barmaid placed another double in front of the Irishman. “I’ll put this one on your tab,” she said before giving Lisa a look that said, “We look after our own around here. We don’t like outsiders.”

  “So,” said the Irishman, winking, “Am I right, close, or completely off?”

  Lisa smiled, “Pretty close, actually. I’m a movie producer. Well, I was. I’m taking a bit of a break now to figure out -you know- who I am outside of work.”

  “I get it,” said the Irishman, “it’s not easy being a woman. Choices you have to make, having to put one life on hold for another and vice versa. No your sex does not have it easy at all.”

  “What are you? Some kind of angel who can read minds? Or are you the perfect gentleman?” she inquired.

  He laughed. “I must say I’ve never been called an angel, and it’s been a while since the world ‘gentleman’ was used to describe me.”

  Lisa smiled.

  “But I used to be a cop,” he said.

  “Really?” So it’s true! Cops really CAN read people well.

  “Yeah, back in Ireland. And I understand what’s it’s like to be a career woman. You always have to choose. And then hope that you made the right choice. And it doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t. All that matters is that you have to live with it.”

  Lisa smiled once more. True!

  “But come on,” he said, “there’s no way many men haven’t tried and failed to lock you down.”

  “How about another drink?” she asked.

  With that, he signaled the barmaid once more.

  “I came close once when I was in my twenties - and before you say anything, a lady never tells her age. His name was Ron. We even picked a date, but a week or so before the wedding, I decided that I loved my career and who I wanted to be more than I loved him.”

  “And now?” he inquired.

  “Now what?”

  “How’d you feel now?”

  “I feel like… I feel really horny.”

  The Irishman choked a little on his drink as Lisa uttered those beautiful words. But he quickly recovered his charm. “Well I’m sure that we can do something about that.”

  *

  Lisa pulled him into the dingy toilet cubicle, locked the door behind her and began to passionately kiss him. Soon his hands reached down to the small of her back, landing perfectly -like a pilot on a runway- on her ass.

  Soon she broke away from the kiss as she turned around, finally handing over all control to him. He slowly reached his hands down her pants as he kissed her neck, slowly at first than more and more aggressively, in tune with her increasing moaning.

  This is it, she thought. It’s finally going to happen. His hands slipped into her sheer silk underwear. She could feel his fingers dancing down over her clit. Her breath grew heavier, thicker, and hungrier with excitement from his firm yet soothing touch. With his other hand, he began to gently caress her breasts through her shirt. She felt herself letting go for a moment of sheer bliss. But who is he? She tried to ignore the anxiety that was creeping into her mind.

  Both his hands were now on her hips, and in a determined move they slipped her pants down. In another move he turned her ass towards himself. She took support from the wall as she felt his hands fondling her breasts, then her ass. She wondered if she was wet. Probably. It’s not how she’d imagined this would go down, but then this was new territory. She had never really known what to expect.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw pants falling to the floor. As he pressed himself towards her, kissing her neck, she found herself biting her lips in anticipation. This was it, there’s no going back now, she thought. It wasn’t the way she’d dreamed it would be, but in this moment she realized how much she wanted it. There was that small grain of anxiety left, but she placed that in the back of her mind and felt herself spreading her legs for him. He was guiding his dick to her happy place, missing at first, stroking up against her inner thighs. His dick felt hot against her thighs. She wanted to feel him inside her.

  Too high now he pushed up against her rectum.

  “Oh…” she screamed in pleasure and agony as she felt herself closing up a bit. She looked over her shoulder.

  He leaned forward and kissed her. “Sorry” he said. She could feel his dick sliding over her pussy. She was spreading her legs further still now, trembling. But he wasn’t sliding inside her. He was fumbling. Suddenly his hot dick was pressing against her anus instead and with a jerk she involuntary closed her legs a bit. Was something wrong? Was she not wet enough? Was he drunk? He was still fumbling, not getting anywhere. She decided to turn around and face him instead.

  Placing one foot on the toilet to make it easy for him to enter, she pulled him towards her. Up close against her now, they kissed, hard, their tongues dancing. He pressed his dick against her pussy. Still not sliding in. At this point she started to feel anxious again. This is not working out. Maybe I should start with a blowjob, she thought

  As she got on her knees to pleasure his long, thick cock with her juicy warm mouth, regret and shame suddenly washed all over her. What the hell am I doing here? she wondered.

  “I’m sorry…” she said. “This is not quite…. This isn’t quite working for me.” Claustrophobia crept up on her in the dingy little stall. Suddenly she felt vulnerable. Yes, she had wanted this, but not like this. It hadn’t been at all like she’d imagined.

  Suddenly she was overcome with smell of the place, and of the sweat of the man. She wanted to gag. She had to get out. Forcefully, she pushed him away, yanked up her pants, threw open the door and rushed out. She didn’t look back.

  “Hey, babes… where you going?” he called after her.

  As she raced through the door, two men came in. They quit their drunken banter and stared at her. As she pushed her way past them she felt herself blushing, on the brink of tears. She had to get out of there.

  Chapter 3

  According to match.com, Freddy was Lisa’s perfect man. But after only a few minutes into dinner, Lisa realized that maybe the algorithms were a little off. Still, with her birthday only a week away, she was becoming desperate, and at least this time she was on a date with someone whose profile picture didn’t lie. He was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. Totally out of my league, she thought as she sipped her glass of wine.

  He had dreamy chestnut eyes, movie star dimples, slicked-back dark hair, topped up like garnish on a plate with a two-day-old stubble. Lisa couldn’t keep her eyes off of him; which in her book was a good start. If only the conversation would get a little more interesting, she thought.

  After discussing the events from the pub with the Irishman with her therapist, Lisa was not making out in any more scungy bathrooms, she decided. He had suggested that the vagina, like most women, have feelings and needs that need to be met before penetration. In Lisa’s case, he suggested that perhaps because she was uncomfortable with the situation in the pub toilet her vagina felt uncomfortable too, and closed up without much warning. Just closed for business abruptly.

  Like all her Internet dates, Fre
ddy had picked a fancy restaurant for their first face-to-face encounter. “At least he has good taste in restaurants,” she thought taking another sip of wine.

  “So you are a movie producer,” he said. “That’s different.”

  “Yeah I guess,” she replied, “I guess it’s different. It feels almost old. I’ve been in the industry for as long as I can remember.”

  “The Industry,” he repeated. “Is that what you movie folk call it?”

  “No,” said Lisa, “we just call it work.”

  Movie folk? Who says that? She thought as she sipped on her wine once more, wishing the she had agreed to the bottle that the waiter recommended instead of just the glass. It was clear that she would need a lot more wine in order to find Freddy mentally stimulating and attractive.

  According to her therapist, try as she might, she wasn’t the kind of woman to just have a one-night-stand. At least not until she lost her virginity and the pressure was finally well and truly gone. Which would explain why she’d had countless sexual encounters over the years, but had never actually managed to seal the deal.

  Back when she’d started internet dating, she’d tell her dates about her virginity problem and how she was eager to get rid of it before she turned a certain age. “A lady never reveals her age” she’d say. To which they would respond by freaking out and finding an excuse to get the hell out of there. This had confused Lisa. Were they leaving because they didn’t want to disappoint? If so, it made no sense, as she had no point of reference.

  Others would respond with something like, “After the things that I’m going to do to you tonight I don’t think that you’ll be able to call yourself a lady.”

  This line always got to Lisa. She soon realized that the moment you tell a man that he could potentially be your first, he either becomes too eager or is completely alarmed by the idea. I wonder if they would freak out if my twenty-year-old virgin self sat in front of them instead, she’d often ponder when they dashed for the exit. Any exit.

  Still Lisa was desperate to save this date. Time was running out and probability was saying that Freddy would likely be her lucky man. Her birthday was only days away, giving her a full week to get to know him before the deed could be done.

  “So your profile said that you were an entrepreneur,” she said, changing the subject for the sake of their date and her sexual future. Lisa had decided that once her birthday had come and gone, if she was still chaste, she’d become a nun or something. Then a sexless existence wouldn’t be viewed as strange for someone of her age.

  “Yeah,” he replied, “I’m an entrepreneur.”

  God I hate that, Lisa thought. Why can’t he answer a question with detail? Is he a socially ignorant or just a pretty idiot? Lisa found herself leaning towards the latter.

  “So what kind of businesses do you run?” she asked.

  “The kind that make money and lots of it,” he replied with a not so appealing or at all sexy wink. Oh god, she thought to herself, nearly saying the words out loud before stopping herself, this is going to be a very long, boring date, I hope the sex will be better if he hasn’t bored my vagina to death. Somehow she knew it wasn’t happening.

  Chapter 4

  It had been a week since Lisa’s awkward, unsuccessful dates and embarrassing encounter with the Irishman from the pub. She had just about given up on the idea of losing her virginity. With her fortieth birthday only a few hours around the corner, she had decided to give into the idea of becoming a living and breathing forty-year-old virgin when her phone dinged with a Facebook friend request from an old school pal, Marie. She’d texted a message saying, “You were right. Marriage is bullshit. I’m getting a divorce. Let’s celebrate.”

  Lisa accepted the request and replied to the message to which she got an immediate response. “Come down to the country house. It’s still mine for a few weeks and if I get my way with the lawyers, it’ll be mine forever.”

  Before Lisa could finish typing her response, she received another message from Marie with the address.

  Lisa pondered for a few minutes before she replied. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” After all these years Marie is finally getting in touch! I can’t wait to see her!

  An hour later, Lisa found herself in the middle of heavy traffic on her way to Marie’s country manor. As she crawled through traffic, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would have been like if she had gotten married all those years ago. Back then, she and Marie had been inseparable. Then, not long after Lisa’s abrupt break in her engagement Marie had disappeared from her life. Now, apparently, she was back! Who would have thought that a divorce would bring old friends back together again?

  *

  Lisa pulled up to the Manor a few hours later, filled with fatigue and desperate for a drink of some sort. The stronger the better. She exited her Lexus, made her way to the front door and knocked, hard.

  With no reply, she knocked once again. Still no answer. Frustrated, she started to make her way back to her car when a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.

  “Hello, can I help?” It was a deep male voice.

  Lisa turned around to see a well-built, self-assured young man in an army uniform standing behind the door.

  “Hi there,” said Lisa. “Sorry I think I may have the wrong address.” She continued on her way.

  “Hey,” he called out. “Are you Lisa?”

  Lisa stopped and turned. “Yes.” Who is this guy? she wondered. How does he know who I am? How does he know my name?

  “Hi,” he said. “My name’s Tim I’m Marie’s son. She mentioned that you might pop by. Would you like to come in?”

  Lisa nodded and followed her old friend’s handsome son into the beautiful manor.

  *

  The living room looked like a museum decked with beautiful, exotic artifacts, antiques and expensive paintings. It seemed that Marie had done all right for herself, despite her sudden disappearance from Lisa’s life.

  “Have a seat.” Tim smiled, and his bright blue eyes crinkled. Ah, those dimples! “My mom had to step out for a moment but she promised that she wouldn’t be long.”

  Again Lisa did as she was told and sank into the chesterfield by the crackling fireplace. Tim walked by her, picked up a few logs and threw them into the fire. She couldn’t help but notice his well-toned body, and the way his muscular butt stretched the heavy material of his uniform.

  “So,” said Tim, turning to look at her. “My mum mentioned that you were old friends.” His eyes scanned her body unashamedly. The way he looked at her made her tingle. My god, girl, she told herself, he’s young enough to be your son! Get a grip!

  “That’s right,” said Lisa. She couldn’t help the squeakiness in her voice.

  “That’s cool.” he said. He stood, legs spread, hands in his pockets, facing her now. Ohmygod, that body… “Hey, can I get you a drink or something?” he asked.

  Finally, she thought. “Yes,” she said. “Anything with alcohol.”

  “Coming right up,” he said. Her eyes followed him hungrily as he left the room.

  Lisa took the opportunity to look around the place. She spotted a family portrait on the mantle above the fireplace. The picture depicted a younger Marie, Tim and Marie’s husband - Ron! Lisa gasped, staring wide-eyed at the photograph Marie’s husband was Lisa’s ex-fiancé.

  Tim walked back in with a neat whiskey and handed it to Lisa. As he did, his hands brushed hers, sending a spark of electricity through her body. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His dimples, his mannerisms, his smile … they were so like Ron’s. Suddenly all those feelings from the past came flooding back like an unsuspected hurricane.

  He can’t be more than twenty, she thought. You can’t start thinking or feeling this way. He’s Marie’s son, for god’s sake!

  Tim sat on a couch opposite her, leaning back, his legs sprawled out. “So,” he said, “my mother said that you used to be best friends.”

  Lisa smiled, “We were.�
�� She took a sip from her drink. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “Well, it’s cool that you guys are catching up again.”

  Lisa sank back into the couch, feeling a little overwhelmed. He reminded her of his father, a man she had loved long ago. A barrage of emotions surged through her. They were like a drug in a needle, pumping her back to life from the brink of extinction. I can’t think like this, she thought, I just can’t.

  She took another sip from her drink and tried to take control of the conversation. “So, have you just returned home from service?”

  “What?” said Tim, before looking down at his clothing. “Oh this. I’m going to a costume party tonight, and this was the handiest thing I could find. I was just trying it on when door-bell rang.