The Three Halves of Martyn Manning--Chapter Six: Lisa - Part Two

Lisa paused, but only slightly.

“Are you sure you’re not an axe murderer?”

“Do I look like an axe murderer? Do I talk like an axe murderer? I’m not an axe murderer. Promise.”

“Oh go on then.” She smiled.

She bent down and unzipped her handbag to find her car keys. Martyn was surprised to see a bottle of red wine laying across the top.

“Why have you got a bottle of red wine in your handbag?”

“In case you came back.” She said it as if the answer was obvious.

 

 

“Do you always drive this fast?”

“I can’t help it. This is how I drive. I don’t think it’s fast, but I got a ticket last week. The copper was a right bastard.”

And the two large glasses of unspecified white wine couldn’t have helped. Martyn was now physically scared. His technique of getting her pissed as a way into her bed could only be considered successful if he actually reached her bed in one piece. But after ten minutes of moderate terror they pulled into the drive of a small but quite new detached bungalow.

“Here we are. Come on in. Try and be quiet, I don’t want to wake Tyler up.”

She unlocked the door and they stepped into the silent hallway, lit only by the glow from the open door of the kitchen at the rear.

“Hi Laura, I’m back.” said Lisa in an enhanced whisper. She turned to Martyn and waved at a closed door on the left. “Go sit down in there and make yourself comfortable while I sort out Laura.”

He went through into the living room and sat down on a three-seater sofa facing a monstrous wall-hung TV. The room was certainly clean, but sorrowfully bare. There was no fireplace. Apart from the TV only a mirror and two cheap framed prints adorned the walls, an indeterminate seascape and a snarling tiger captured low-bellied as it prowled the jungle. By the light of the two table lamps he couldn’t even tell if the walls had ever been painted or if they were still bare plaster. There was no sign of any books, or newspapers, or magazines. Various children’s toys were scattered across the carpet.

The low chat from the hallway stopped and he heard a muted click as the front door closed.

“I’ll get us both a glass of wine” came from the hall.

She returned and put two large glasses of red on the coffee table, then she closed the door behind her, and sat down close beside him.

“Why haven’t you got the telly on? I’ve got Sky!”

“Dunno. Never thought of it. I was just admiring your room.”

“Yeah. Nice telly isn’t it? That’s one of the things I bought with his credit card before he cancelled. Let’s see what’s on. Have you got the remote? Ah, there it is!”

Before he knew it she was leaning across him. He hadn’t noticed that the remote was laying between his thigh and the sofa’s armrest and she reached to get it. She made no attempt to avoid bodily contact and he could clearly feel her firm skeleton beneath the thin cushion of her breasts. Did she hesitate? Did she spend just a little longer than really necessary draped across his abdomen?

She sat back up and flicked quickly through the channels, barely glancing at one before moving to the next. It was the usual late night fare of politics, sport, reality and re-run films.

“There’s nothing on.”

“Have you got Netflix?”

“No. My friend’s got it but she never uses it so I don’t bother.”

“Ah, never worry. I’m not a huge telly fan anyway.”

There was a shortly, slightly awkward silence.

“So what else did you get with your hubby’s card?”

Lisa seemed relieved to hear him speak.

“Oh loads of stuff! I spent thousands before he stopped it. He went mental! So I got the telly, and look, I got this!”

She held out her wrist from which dangled a thick braided gold-coloured bracelet. Like many men, Martyn was not good at appreciating or even noticing the jewellery that women are wearing. As it happened, he had noticed this bracelet, but had assumed it was cheap costume jewellery.

“Wow! That’s nice. Is it gold?”

“Yeah, 18 carat. I got it from House of Fraser. It cost £800! Isn’t it pretty?”

Martyn took her hand and admired the bracelet for a while longer. Then,

“So you got the telly and fridge. What else?”

“Come on, we’ll take the tour and I’ll show you. Let’s take our wine.”

She stood up and he followed her through the hall into the kitchen which was still dimly lit.

“I got that coffee maker, and that dishwasher, and I got that!”

She pointed at an enormous six plate cooker with glistening brass fittings and a whole panel of complicated looking controls.

“Wow!”

“Yeah, it’s good, but I don’t really know how to use it yet. Anyway, come on, follow me, but be quiet, I don’t want to wake him up.”

He followed her back into the hall and down a short dark corridor to where a door was slightly ajar. A dim light shone from within. She paused and turned.

“Shush…” she breathed.

She opened the door and they stepped inside. By the night-light he could see a metal construction, like bunk beds, with a ladder leading to the top bed, but underneath, instead of a second bed there was what looked like a young child’s play area with a number of toys and what looked like a playhouse. Lisa took a couple of steps up the ladder and looked at her sleeping son, then stepped down.

“It’s OK, he’s fast asleep, “she whispered, then gestured at the bed and playhouse, “I bought that with his card as well.”

Without saying anything else she walked out of the room and Martyn followed. She pulled the door back to almost closed then opened another door. When she switched on the low lights he was a little, though pleasantly, surprised to find they were in a large bedroom, and from the accoutrements of femininity, the dressing table and make-up mirror, the skirt and blouse hanging from the wardrobe door, it was clearly her bedroom. She took the skirt and blouse down and held them to her body.

“I got these as well, they were really expensive, they’re Designer. Do you like them?”

It was a peach silk blouse with a knee-length navy blue woollen pleated skirt. He had to admit they did look expensive and they suited her colouring. Maybe she had taste, after all?

“Oh Lisa! Wow! They really suit you. I love how the peach and the blue go together. Are you going to try them on for me.”

Lisa looked pleased.

“OK, back in a minute.”

She took the skirt and blouse and went through to what Martyn assumed was an en-suite. Martyn took the chance to try and read the room, but his eyes kept coming back to the king-sized bed. Moments later Lisa returned.

“How do I look?”

“Oh yes! Lisa you look fabulous. They look much better on you than on the hanger.” He paused. “Mind you, I bet you’d look even better if you took them off.”

She laughed. “Oh I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you.”

“Of course I would, I am a man after all.”

Martyn took a large pull on the wine he was still carrying, still looking at Lisa.

“Lisa…” he hesitated, “Look we’ve had a really lovely time, it seems a shame to end it now. You’re not really going to make me sleep on your sofa are you, not when that bed looks so comfy. We’ll just have a cuddle if that’s all you want. I promise to behave myself.”

She answered immediately.

“OK, but just a cuddle. Let me go get ready.”

She went back into the en-suite. And then Martyn realised he didn’t know what to do next. It was such a long time since he’d been in this situation that he was no longer sure of the etiquette. Should he get undressed and get into bed? He supposed he should. But should he leave his pants on? After all, it was only supposed to be a cuddle. He got undressed and got into bed. He kept his pants on. He didn’t want to appear presumptuous.

She re-appeared in a scarlet baby-doll nightie and climbed into bed with her back to him. He put his arms around her and pulled her to his body. He kept his hands away from her breasts but there was little he could do to disguise his cock pressing up against her bum. Lisa snuggled up against him.

“Mmmm…you’re nice and warm”

“So are you. Do you want me to turn the light off?”

“No, it’s fine.”

He began to nuzzle at her neck, then moved his hands to cup her breasts through the sheer negligee. She gave another little wriggle and Martyn took this as encouragement. He removed one of his hands and slipped off his pants. When his hand returned to her breast he began to play her nipple with his thumb. Her evident arousal emboldened Martyn further. He moved his hand from her breast and moved slowly down her body till the tips of his fingers were under the elasticated waistband of her knickers. Without warning she turned onto her back with her eyes closed and they kissed as lovers kiss. He played his fingers over her belly and she opened her legs in invitation. When his finger slipped inside she caught her breath. It was clear to Martyn they wouldn’t be needing lube.

“I thought you said it was just a cuddle?”    

 

 

 

He’d always been a restless sleeper, even after rigorous sex. It was just after four when with his back to Lisa he first opened his eyes. It’s understandably disconcerting to wake up and find an unknown face staring back at you from a foot away. After a few moments he realised it was the face of a four year-old boy, completely motionless, completely expressionless, the big blue eyes just staring. He had no idea how long the boy had been there. He thought he’d better do something.

“Lisa, Lisa!” He prodded her awake and gestured at the boy.

“Oh Tyler darling!”

She got out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown.

“Come on Tyler, let’s get you back to bed darling.”

Martyn went back to sleep.

He woke up with a hard-on hoping for a follow-up morning fuck but she was nowhere to be seen. He pulled on his clothes, and found her in the kitchen, still in her dressing gown, leaning against the dresser and hugging a cup of coffee. His erection returned. Dawn was breaking over the fields outside the window.

“Hello, do you want a cup of coffee?”

“I could kill one.”

“Do you want sugar, I haven’t got any milk.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She re-boiled the kettle and passed him a mug of instant.

“Thanks. How was Tyler? Was he OK? Did you get him back to sleep?”

“He was fine, he just needed cuddles from Mummy. Do you want some breakfast?” She opened the fridge door and looked inside. “I don’t think I’ve got anything. I could do you some toast?”

“I’ll be fine. Anyway, how are you this morning? We had fun last night didn’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah we did. I enjoyed it.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

“Yeah I’d like to. Give me a call. You’ve got my number haven’t you?”

“Yeah but I meant like, now. I don’t have to rush off….and you make me as horny as hell.”

“I can’t, really. I’ve got to get Tyler ready for playschool. He loves playschool.”

“No problem, next time. Well I suppose I ought to think about getting off. Have you got a number for a taxi or something?”

“There’s one on my phone. Let me find it.”

 

At least his car hadn’t been vandalised. The rush hour traffic made his drive back to the office seem interminable, but at least it gave him time to process the events of the night before. He’d had enjoyable sex with an attractive girl. That was a positive. He hadn’t used a condom but even though she hadn’t asked him that was still a negative. Surely her insides were so fucked up there was little risk. Had he taken advantage of and even abused a vulnerable single mother? He didn’t think so. It takes two to tango and she’d hardly put up a fight. He pulled up at lights next to an Audi 4x4 where the driver, a balding middle-aged man in a suit and the arrogant posture of a tech salesman was shouting into his phone while waving his other hand in the air. Martyn caught his eye and held an imaginary phone to his ear, a clear gesture of disapproval and admonishment. The salesman held Martyn’s gaze for a few moments then carefully mouthed “Fuck Off!”. The lights changed and Martyn let the Audi get well in front before returning to his thoughts. He’d once read a book that claimed it was pointless chasing pretty girls because when all’s said and done a fanny is a fanny is a fanny and they’re all the same regardless of how they come packaged. Martyn disagreed. Some fannies fit him well and others not so well. Lisa had fit him perfectly. Or should it be that he had fit Lisa perfectly? Whatever, it confirmed the theory he’d had in his single days that his cock seemed to be more comfortable in a skinny girl’s fanny than in a bigger girl’s. Janet was skinny. That was one of the reasons he married her. One thing was troubling him though. At one point Lisa had been riding him hard. He’d come twice already and was having trouble coming again so he thought he’d try it from behind, but when he went to move her she resisted vehemently.

“No! I don’t want you going there. No!”

Odd, but fair enough. Maybe she thought he was going to try and take her up the bum. The weird thing was, when he first tried to change position, before she objected, he thought, just for a micro-second that he caught a glimpse of something cotton white on her bum crack. He didn’t know why he found this weird, she’d had bum surgery after all, but nevertheless he found it strangely disturbing.

By the time he got to the office he’d decided. She was a nice girl and the sex had been fun but she clearly wasn’t a long-term partner. He wouldn’t see her again, not even for casual sex, he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He’d send her some flowers.

A couple of days later he came out of a client meeting to find a voicemail.

 

“Hi Martyn, it’s Lisa. Thanks for the flowers, they’re beautiful. Give me a call and we can arrange another night out.”

 

The next day he got two more calls from Lisa, but he didn’t answer, and they stopped after that.