The Lisa Series

by Charles Arnold

  “Lisa, Jesus, Lisa let’s...”

  She shook her head. “We can’t. You know that. Only a few more days. Please, Billy.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that...”

  “I know, I know,” she said.

  It was a large rectangular bar. Only a few people were there, businessmen and, except for Carl, no one I knew. Carl was wearing a plaid coat, a striped shirt, and red tie. He looked shorter and broader than I’d remembered. He watched me enter. His widely spaced eyes were set in a round, flat, boyish face. I started to pull up a stool as far away from him as possible, but he pointed to one a few feet from his own.

  I saw that he was drinking plain ginger ale. There were four empty seats between us. Carl, satisfied that I was near enough, turned to a much older man seated next to him. “She’ll be along any minute now,” he said in a voice that carried throughout the room. “She’s a married woman,” he laughed, “but she don’t get enough action at home so she’s kind of lookin to get what she needs from me.” The man shook his head and grinned. “She’s even paying for the room,” Carl continued. He glanced toward the entrance. “I mean, wait till you see her. Jesus, she looks like a movie star!”

  “Yeah, well maybe you’d be interested in sharing,” the older man leaned toward Carl. “If she’s anything like you say, I’d be willing.”

  “Nah, no way. This one I keep all to myself,” Carl laughed again. “There she is now!” he said, standing up and pointing. Everyone turned to watch Lisa. Carl was right. She did look like a movie star. The dress molded her splendid body. It was obvious that she wore no bra, and the fact that her legs were bare suggested that underneath the dress she might not be wearing anything at all. Her short black hair shone and, even in the dim light, her wet lips glistened.

  She ignored the men’s staring. She glanced quickly at me, then walked straight to Carl. Before she slid up on the stool next to him, I saw her reach into her bag to turn on the recorder. Carl, grinning like the village idiot, looked at her then around the bar at all of the successful men who would have given anything to be in his shoes.

  “Hey, Mrs...I mean...uh...Lisa, I was just telling these guys,” he gestured around the room.

  “Telling them what?” Lisa prompted, moving her handbag so that it rested on the bar between them. “What were you telling them, Carl?” Since entering the room her face had remained passive, unsmiling, her eyes empty. Now, her voice was low, and she sounded almost like a mother questioning her child. “What exactly what were you saying, Carl?”

  “Well, I...I...” Carl began to stammer.

  “Never mind,” Lisa said, and picked up the bar menu. The bartender had come over to take her order. Carl laughed nervously. The older man shook his head and smiled. Lisa ordered a small split of champagne and another ginger ale for Carl. The older man tapped Carl’s shoulder. “They shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s work,” he said and everyone laughed.

  Carl’s face became scarlet. I thought he would either start a fight, or leave. Instead, he turned to Lisa, “Maybe Mrs...Mrs. Lindal, maybe you and me ought to go on down to Ryan’s and check out the action?”

  I could see Lisa’s back stiffen, and her hands gripped the edge of the bar. She took a deep breath and relaxed. She pressed her bare leg against Carl’s and, leaning toward him placed her hand on his knee. “Please, Carl,” she said, “it’s cold out and we have a nice room right here.”

  “Yeah, but...”Carl began.

  Lisa moved her hand along Carl’s thigh toward the obvious bulge in his pants. “And Carl,” she continued, “all afternoon I’ve been thinking about it...about you and me together.”

  “Yeah, well Okay,” Carl said. “But it better be good.” He glanced around at the envious men. It was clear that he understood he had won. Frank had provided him with the magic word. Lisa was his. As if to confirm what the three of us now knew she said, “I’ll be good, Carl. I promise.”

  Carl moved his barstool closer to hers and, just as he’d seen Frank do, he slid his hand across her bare back. Again, Lisa grew tense and started to pull away. The men had stopped drinking and were watching them closely. It was too much. I stood up. Lisa glanced at me, then quickly leaned against Carl and kissed him softly on the neck.

  The older man tried once more. “Maybe you two would like to stop by my room. I could order some drinks and a platter of shrimp, you know?”

  “Ask the lady,” Carl said, grinning and pulling her closer.

  Lisa sipped her drink. Her hand shook as she placed the glass back on the bar. “Thank you for the invitation, but we don’t have much time and...well, ah...”

  “And she wants what she came for,” Carl laughed. “Ain’t that right Mrs...uh, ain’t that right, Lisa?”

  “Yes, Carl.”

  “And I’m the only one can give you what you came for, right?”

  “Yes, Carl, just you.” She reached over and squeezed his hand.

  One of the men across the bar yelled, “Go for it, kid! You got yourself one hellava good looking woman.” Lisa finished her champagne and dug in her purse for some bills to leave the bartender. It was the signal to me. I put money on the bar and quickly returned to the room.

  Unlike Lisa, I couldn’t shut down my feelings. On the nightstand was a plastic container of ice holding two bottles of champagne. Lisa had placed the glasses, and the candles, and the corkscrew on the dresser. In my imagination, I saw her here with Carl: my wife and this stupid boy kissing, undressing each other, lying on the bed, his hands then his mouth on her breasts, his cock...my own cock throbbed painfully.

  I opened both bottles, pulled shut the drapes, and lit the candles. I put one on the nightstand and the other on the dresser. Both were far from the dark corner where I was to sit.

  Lisa entered first. She glanced quickly at me, and bit her lip. Then, as I started to get up, she shook her head. Carl came in behind her. It took a moment before he noticed me. “Oh,” he said, stepping back. “That’s right, I almost forgot.” He turned toward Lisa, “You know, couldn’t your husband...I mean, couldn’t he...”

  Lisa reached into her purse and withdrew the recorder, which was running. “You know the rules, Carl,” she said, and placed the machine on the nightstand. She started toward the bathroom.

  “Yeah, Okay,” Carl said, frowning, “but so do you, and there ain’t much on that tape yet that Frank wants to hear.”

  Lisa stopped. She took a deep breath, then turned and walked back to stand in front of the boy. Carl was no more than 5’3”. Lisa, in her heels, was slightly taller. “You’re right again, Carl. I’m sorry. We both know why we’re here.” She gestured toward the tape. She stared at him for a moment, then reached for his hands. “Put your arms around me,” she said. Awkwardly, Carl pressed her body into his. “That’s it,” Lisa’s voice was flat. She looked at a spot beyond Carl, “Now,” she said, “move your hands down.” Carl’s hands tightened on her ass. “Can you feel me through the dress?”

  “Yeah, feels like you ain’t got nothin else on.” Carl pulled her closer.

  “I don’t, Carl. Do you want to see?” Lisa still had not looked directly at him. She spoke mechanically, but Carl was too excited to notice or care.

  “Yeah,” he said, “I want to see.”

  “When I’m naked for you, Carl, are you going to feel me? Are you going to feel me all over?” I could tell she was speaking for the recorder.

  “That ain’t all I’m goin do to you,” Carl fumbled with his belt and unzipped his fly.

  Lisa slid her dress down over her shoulders, then over her breasts. Carl’s hand was on his blunt stiff cock. “What else are you going to do?” Lisa said, pushing her dress down over her hips.

  “You tell me, Mrs. Lindal. For months I been jerking off thinking about you telling me.” The boy’s voice was shaking. “And there’s something I want you to say, something special.”

  “What, Carl? What do you want me to say?” Lisa stepped out of her dress. She stood nake
d before him, the candlelight flickering over her glistening body. She waited, not knowing what he expected.

  The words came tumbling out of Carl as if he’d rehearsed them. “First, tell me you are Richie’s mom. Then, tell me what you want me to do to you. Say the words, you know.” Carl’s voice was hoarse, his face red.

  Lisa closed her eyes. “I...I’m Mrs. Lindal, Richie’s mother, and I want you to...I want you to...to...fuck me.” She clinched her fists at her side.

  Carl stepped toward her, his rigid cock almost touching her. “Now,” he swallowed and took a deep breath, “now tell me you been wanting me to fuck you so bad you’re glad I done what I done to Richie.”

  Before he could react, Lisa slapped him. He quickly backed away from her, holding his arm up to cover his face. “You’re sick,” Lisa said, “you’re crazy and sick!”

  I stood up. “You shouldn’t of done that,” Carl said, his voice breaking. He reached for the phone. “Mr. Racine told me to call him at Ryan’s if there was any trouble, and then to take you there.” He started to dial.

  “Oh, God, no,” Lisa said. She crossed to him quickly. “Please, Carl, I’m sorry, please put down the phone.” She fell to her knees in front of him and pressed his cock against her cheek. Looking up at him, she continued to plead, “Whatever you want me to say, please, Carl anything.”

  He put the receiver back and waited. She still held his cock against her face. She knelt there silently, staring up at him. His hand once more moved to the phone. In a trembling voice, she began, “I...I’ve been...been wanting you for a long time, Carl. I want you so bad...” Carl picked up the receiver. “Carl, please,” Lisa whispered, “for a long time, for a very long time I’ve been wanting you...wanting you to...to fuck me. I’m glad, Carl, I...I’m glad you did what you did to…to...Richie, so that I can be here with you.”

  “Tell me again who you are and what you want me to do.”

  “I’m Richie’s mother, Carl. And...and I want you to...fuck me.”

  “More,” he said.

  “I’m glad...glad you did what you did to Richie, so I can...I can have you inside me. I want you, Carl, I want you inside me.”

  “Say please.”

  “Please, Carl, please fuck me.”

  “Kiss it,” Carl pointed to his prick.

  Lisa, who was still kneeling before him bent over his cock. As her lips touched its tip, Carl let out a cry and grabbed it tightly in his right hand. Before Lisa could move out of the way, his come had spurted over her breasts and belly. Still clutching his cock, he staggered to the bed and fell on it, face down, cursing and moaning.

  Slowly Lisa got to her feet. She glanced in my direction and smiled weakly before closing the bathroom door behind her. In a moment, we heard the shower. “Shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job,” I said.

  “Fuck you,” Carl grunted. He wiped his dripping cock with a handkerchief, pulled up his pants, and was out of the room and down the hall before Lisa turned off the shower.

  Chapter Seven

  Dooley

  I poured myself a glass of champagne and another for Lisa. She came back into the room smiling. She wore only a white terry cloth robe. She’d scrubbed her face. All the make-up was gone. She looked fresh, and clean, and very young.

  “You could be mistaken for a high school cheerleader,” I said.

  “Oh, Billy, I feel like cheering!” She gave me a warm hug. Then, she sat on the edge of the bed. Her robe fell open, and I caught a glimpse of her shaved pussy. It was wet. “I’m sorry, Billy,” she said, pulling the robe across her knees. “I just can’t help it.”

  “But, Lisa, how could that boy you have every reason to despise...how could he...” I began.

  She looked up at me and frowned, “I know, Billy, I know. But when anyone...anyone like Frank, or Silk, or Carl makes me say those things...I start to feel it down there. Saying those awful things makes me wet.” She looked away for a moment, then turned to face me. “I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to control it no matter how I try. When Carl told me to say that I was glad he did what he did to Richie, and to say I was Richie’s mom, and to tell him I wanted him to...to...” She didn’t finish. I handed her a glass of champagne. She sipped it thoughtfully. Looking up again, she shook her head, “It’s the words, Billy, it’s saying those words that does it. Frank knows it, too. He knew it that first night at Bruno’s. Silk also knows. That’s why they keep making me say that I’m Frank’s...Frank’s...”

  Suddenly she stood and hurried to the recorder. “That’s another the reason for the tapes. He plays them back and I have to listen to myself saying...saying those things.” She picked up the recorder.

  “I turned it off when Carl left,” I said.

  She was scared, “Billy, if it’s off too long he’ll be suspicious. He has everything timed. He’ll know exactly when we got here, and when we leave, and how much time is left on the recorder.” She was about to switch it back on.

  I took it from her. “To hell with him,’ I said. She moved into my arms again. “I want you, Lisa. God! I’m going crazy with wanting you!”

  “Yes, Billy, me too. I...I’m so hot. It’s been a week...a week since...” She pressed her pelvis against my stiff cock.

  There was a loud banging at the door. She jumped back, frightened. Quickly, she grabbed the recorder and placed it on the nightstand that was between the bed.

  I opened the door. Standing in the hall was the tallest, blackest man I had ever seen. He was a skeleton with smooth black skin stretched tightly over his bones. He wore a white shirt and, over that, a black leather jacket. His head was bald. In his right hand he held a small plastic bag. He glanced around the room, then stepped inside and pulled the door shut. Lisa had backed away to stand by the bathroom entrance.

  “My name’s Dooley,” he paused looking intently at Lisa, “Mister Dooley.” He paused again. “I’m the surprise.” Lisa gasped and moved back, pulling her robe tightly around her. Dooley dropped the plastic bag on the bed. “Well now,” he said evenly, “that ain’t exactly true. I’m just part of the surprise.” Lisa’s glass of champagne was on the dresser. He picked it up and drained it before continuing. “Frank knowed that the little, honky fist-fucker wouldn’t last more than a minute. Fact is, he figured the kid would come in his pants. Right?” He looked over at me. I nodded. “That recorder on?”

  “No,” I began, “we...”

  “That recorder supposed to be on. Don’t you know the rules?” His question was directed at Lisa.

  “I’m...I’m...sorry. It’s just that when Carl...when Carl...”

  “When the white boy took off, you and Billy here decided to have yourselves a quick fuck. Now, you know what Frank would say about that.”

  “Yes, but...” Lisa was almost in tears.

  “Don’t give me none of that ‘yes...but’ shit. Get your white ass over here and get this fuckin tape going.” He started to move toward her. I stepped in front of him. Before I knew what happened, he had a razor in his hand and had cut the buttons off my jacket. He held the bright razor up to my eyes. “Don’t pay to get funny with Mister Dooley less you want to carry your balls home in one pocket and your prick in the other.” His eyes were narrow slits, but his voice was as calm and as even as it had been since he arrived. He looked at Lisa and motioned toward the recorder. She quickly switched it on. “That’s right, now just for the record, suppose you tell Mister Dooley if that busboy from the restaurant fucked you.”

  “No,” Lisa said almost in a whisper.

  “Speak up, dammit.”

  “No, he didn’t…”

  “Well, what he do?”

  “He...he came before he could...”

  “Where he come?”

  “In his hand...on me...I just took a shower to...”

  “Well, old Frank was right. He almost never wrong.” He studied Lisa for a moment. “Cept you sure don’t look like no fox. You look like a girl, like a little, sweet, virgin girl.” Lisa star
ed at the floor. “Frank says you his cocksucker. That right?”

  Lisa glanced at the recorder. “Yes,” she said.

  “He says you love to get down on your knees and do him good?”

  “Yes,” she looked away from Dooley. “Yes, I do.”

  “He says he comes in your mouth. That true?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “And you like it?”

  “Yes, I like it.”

  “Well, I would have never took you for Frank’s hot little fox.” He pointed to the plastic bag. “A dress and shoes in there. Frank says to put them on. Nothin else. And fix up your face so you don’t look like no honky virgin.” Lisa picked up the bag and closed the bathroom door behind her.

  Dooley turned to me. “You her husband, named Billy?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Shit...some husband. Hand me that bottle.” I gave him the champagne. He sat in the corner and drank while we waited in silence.

  When the door opened and Lisa stepped into the room, Dooley sat up. She wore a red silk slip and red heels. The slip was cut low and held up by thin strands over her shoulders. Her breasts moved freely under the shiny material, which molded her ass and ended above her knees. Although the make-up had dramatically changed Lisa’s face, she didn’t appear much older.

  “Ahhh,” Dooley sighed, “we got us a real woman now. But do she know what a cock feel like?”

  “Yes,” Lisa said.

  “Feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whose cock feel best?’

  She glanced at the recorder, “Frank’s.”

  “He make you come?’

  “Yes. He makes me come a lot.”

  “When the last time you come?”

  “A week ago.”

  “Billy here ain’t touch you? You ain’t touch yourself?”

  “No, Frank said not to.”

  “You always do what Frank say?”

  “Yes, always.”