Crazy Little Thing (19 page)

Murphy’s Law Of Bed

An hour later, Claire had deposited Scarlet into her
room, wiped off the Ghurka bag as best as she could and unpacked Scarlet’s
clothes. Scarlet lay on the bed doing her deep breathing exercises. She wore a
red sleep mask. Claire knew that meant Scarlet had a migraine coming on. She
also knew that the only way to rid Scarlet of an impending migraine was to have
sex with her.

That was okay with Claire. Quite frankly, it had
been too long since she’d had sex. She was used to having sex on a regular
basis and you don’t know how much you miss something until it’s gone.

And she did find Scarlet attractive. She had a
perfect body. A perfect nose. Perfect hair. And her lips were to die for. As
she stared at Scarlet’s lips she felt a familiar stirring in her nether
regions.

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaned down and
lightly kissed Scarlet on those luscious lips. Scarlet pulled Claire closer,
grabbing her ass and kneading.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Scarlet breathed. She
kissed Claire’s neck and bit her ear lobe. Claire melted. She was the
proverbial putty in Scarlet’s hand. Claire ran her hands inside Scarlet’s
blouse cupping her breasts. Claire unfastened Scarlet’s red lacy bra and
marveled at the beauty of her breasts. They were worth every penny.

Claire licked and sucked Scarlet’s nipples. Scarlet
moaned and arched her back.

Squeak!

Claire froze.

“What was that?” Scarlet asked.

“The bed. It’s old and it squeaks,” Claire answered.
“Do you want to take your mask off?”

“No,” Scarlet said throatily. “Not being able to see
heightens my other senses. And I want to feel you, every inch of you.” She
pulled Claire down on top of her and said, “I need you. Now.”

Squeak! Squeak!

Claire sat up. “I can’t deal with that squeaking. It
interrupts my concentration.” That was a lie. Claire actually didn’t like that
the loud squeaking was broadcasting to everyone in the house that they were
having sex.

That was a lie, too.

What she really didn’t like was that Ollie could
hear the squeaks. She felt guilty.

While she was thinking these thoughts, Scarlet was
lying spread eagle on the bed in nothing but her sleep mask and matching
panties.

They were nice panties, Claire thought. She was
momentarily distracted by them. She ran her index finger around the waistband.
“These are very sexy.”

“Why don’t you take them off me?” Scarlet said,
inching closer to Claire.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

“The bed, we can’t do it on the bed,” Claire said,
coming out of her red panties stupor. “Everyone will hear and know what we’re
doing.”

“They already know what we’re doing. The moment I
said I wanted to take a nap they knew what that meant. Nap is like a universal
code word for sexing.”

Sexing? Claire hated that word. It sounded so
impersonal. “I can’t
relax
with all the squeaking.” And by
relax
Claire meant she wouldn’t be able to come. Not even get close.

Scarlet knew from past experience that if she didn’t
change the dynamics she wouldn’t get laid. “Okay, let’s see.” She tapped her
finger on her chin, thinking hard. “Maybe we could wedge a blanket or something
under the springs to make them stop squeaking. Or we could dab some olive oil
on the springs. Do you have a mister?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, I brought some warming lube. But I’d
hate to waste that on the bed.”

Claire got to her feet. She squatted down and looked
under the bed. Maybe if the mattress wasn’t on the box springs the noise would
stop. “What if we put the mattress on the floor? It’s the box springs making
that noise.”

“Brilliant idea,” Scarlet said, taking off her sleep
mask.

“It’s a Murphy bed. The kind that folds up into the
wall. If we pull the mattress off we can fold the bed away and have the
mattress on the floor. Then we’ll be squeak free.”

“Wonderful.”

“Okay, you stand over there and pull and I’ll push
on this side. Easy peasey. Got it?”

“Got it,” Scarlet said.

Claire pushed. Scarlet pulled. The mattress barely
budged. It weighed a lot more than Claire would’ve thought. “Pull harder,”
Claire groaned.

“What do you think I’m doing,” Scarlet muttered
between clenched teeth.

Scarlet braced one foot on the bed frame and put her
whole body into pulling. The mattress began to edge off the bed frame. Then she
leaned across the top of the bed, arms extended, pulling with all her might –
if Scarlet was anything she was an over-achiever.

The bed quivered.

Claire stopped pushing.

The bed quaked.

Scarlet stopped pulling. “What the hell is
happening? Is that an earthquake?”

Squeeeeee aaaaaaa kkkkkk!

The end of the bed lifted off the floor, and slammed
back into the wall like the jaws of a giant mechanical robot snapping shut.

Claire stumbled backwards. Where there once had been
a bed, there was nothing. Where there once had been Scarlet there was nothing.
“Scarlet?”

“Whathathfuckth?”

Claire looked at the bed. It was upright and
snuggled into place in the wall. “Omigod, Scarlet. The bed ate you!”  Not only
had it eaten Scarlet, it had wedged itself firmly closed.

“Whath theth fuckithy fuckth?” came Scarlet’s voice
again.

Claire saw Scarlet’s ankle and foot stuck out from
the bottom corner of the bed. She grabbed hold of the foot and pulled.

Scarlet screamed. “Thaturtsthoppulling!

Claire stopped pulling on Scarlet’s foot. She
grabbed the bed and tried to pull it out of the wall. It was stuck. Even when
Claire jumped up and grabbed the top of the bed, it didn’t budge. She hung
against the bed, her feet six inches off the floor and dangled. “It won’t move
Scarlet! The bed is stuck!”

Scarlet said something that sounded like, “No thit.”

Claire dropped to the floor. She grabbed Scarlet’s
ankle this time, swung one leg over it like she was riding a stick pony and
pulled for all she was worth.

Scarlet screamed bloody murder.
“Thoppullingyoufuckingidiot.”

Exhausted, Claire stopped and crumpled to the floor.
She held her head in her hands and cried.

“Whareudoinurnotcryinaru?” asked Scarlet.

“I’m not crying!” Claire yelled then immediately
regretted it. After all, she wasn’t the one who was almost naked and
suffocating to death in a Murphy bed’s giant jaws. Oh God, what was she going
to tell everybody? How would she ever live this down? This was the type of
gossip that spread like wild fire. She was going to be the laughingstock of
Houston. She would have to stay in Des Moines, housesit and feed non-existent
cats. She would become the crazy cat lady of Iowa.

Claire wiped her eyes and squared her shoulders. Oh
well, she consoled herself, it couldn’t get any worse than this.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who’s there?” Claire answered.

“Um, it’s me. Ollie. I don’t want to interrupt or
anything, but you’re making a lot of noise. In fact, you’re shaking the whole
downstairs. The light fixture is coming out of the ceiling and…”

Claire threw the door open. “Oh, thank God, it’s
you!” She pulled Ollie into a hug, saying, “I need your help.”

Ollie gulped. “Um… No, thanks. She’s your
girlfriend. I mean, I’m not into the three-way stuff.”

Claire turned and pointed at the wall where
Scarlet’s foot was sticking out of the folded-up bed.

“Getmethehellouttahere!” Scarlet yelled. The foot
shook and the bed vibrated.

Ollie crossed her arms over her chest and grinned
from ear to ear. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

“Whathsgoinon? IzatOllie? Donthtellanybody!”
Scarlet’s muffled voice yelled from deep inside the wall.

Ollie turned to the door and yelled, “G-Ray, call
911! And tell them to bring the jaws of life!”

Pumpkin

Ollie stood beside Claire, looking through the
window at the fire truck parked in front of their house. The firemen were
upstairs trying to un-wedge Scarlet. Claire was crying.

And she wasn’t crying about Scarlet either.

She was crying about her car.

The noon sun had melted some of the snow off the car
and for the first time, Claire saw it. It wasn’t the midnight blue color that
she loved. It was now orange.

Fucking
orange.

Scarlet had re-painted her car orange. Who in their
right mind wanted an orange car? It totally devalued her precious car. Now her
car looked like it was in a parade or a circus or an advertisement for Florida
orange juice. What the hell had Scarlet done?

“It’s okay,” Ollie soothed and patted Claire’s
shoulder. “Scarlet will be out soon.”

“I don’t give a hoot about Scarlet. Look at my car.
She painted my car,” Claire sobbed, burying her face in Ollie’s shoulder. “It
looks like Cinderella’s pumpkin coach.”

Ollie gently patted Claire’s back. “Look at the
bright side,” she said. “It’s very Thanksgiving-y.”

Claire wiped her nose on her sleeve and gazed at
Ollie. “Thanksgiving-y?”

Ollie smiled. “Yeah, you know… sweet potatoes.
Pumpkin pie. Fall leaves.”

Claire smiled the tiniest bit. “You’re so sweet, you
know that?”

Ollie shrugged away the compliment. She wasn’t so
sweet. In fact, she was having lusty thoughts at this very moment. Did sweet
count if you had the ulterior motive of getting in somebody’s pants? Ollie
didn’t think so.

“What’re you thinking right now?” Claire asked.

“I’m thinking…” Ollie said, trying to think of
something, “that Scarlet doesn’t deserve you.”

Which was, in fact, a really sweet thing to say, and
it might have melted Claire’s heart and brought her back into Ollie’s arms,
except for one thing. As Ollie was saying it, a fireman clomped down the
stairs. It was this clomping that drowned out what Ollie had said. The
fireman’s voice boomed across the room, “Say, you don’t have a giant can opener,
do you?”

Ollie and Claire stared wide-eyed at the Fireman. He
laughed a big baritone laugh and said, “Just kidding. But if you have a
shoehorn that’s about five feet long we might be able to wedge her out of there
before she expires from lack of oxygen. You got anything like that?”

Ollie looked over at her surfboard, which was
standing upright in the corner of the room. Boy, oh boy, Scarlet was going to
owe her big time.

Claire’s Revenge

The three firemen used Ollie’s surfboard as a
shoehorn and pried the bed away from the wall. Scarlet wasn’t horribly hurt—her
ankle was bruised and swollen but it wasn’t broken. Her large, inflated breasts
had acted as airbags and cushioned the blow of the bed and kept her foot from
being crushed. The firemen were delighted by Scarlet’s almost naked appearance.

Once the room was empty Claire stared at Scarlet
with her fists on her hips. She wasn’t happy.

Scarlet said, “Why the pouty face? You look like you
were the one who just had the near death experience
–
not to mention look at my ankle. My Jimmy Choos are not going to fit anytime
soon.”

Claire didn’t give a shit about Scarlet’s ankle.
“What did you do to my car?”

“Your car? I’m standing here exhausted, smooshed,
and rumpled and you want to talk about your car?”

“I don’t care if you’re rumpled. Fuck rumpled. You
painted my car.”

Scarlet lifted her chin in the air and pointed her
nipples in Claire’s direction. “Yes, I did. And you haven’t even said thank
you.”

“Thank you? Why the hell would I thank you for
painting my car orange?”

“It’s not orange. It’s called Pumpkin Spice and it’s
all the rage right now,” Scarlet said.

“They
had to paint it anyway because of all the damage to the side. The color never
would’ve matched. I told them to change the color. Pumpkin Spice is the latest
car color. I figured by changing the color it was like updating the car only
less expensively. Your Beemer has low miles. Why not stay current without the
added cost? It was a good financial decision.”

Claire closed her eyes, clenched her fists and took
three deep breaths. She silently counted to ten and while she was counting, she
plotted her revenge. When she opened her eyes, she forced a smile at Scarlet.
“How can I ever thank you?” she said sweetly.

Scarlet dropped her panties around her ankles and
said, “I know how.”

Claire smiled bigger. And this time the smile was
genuine. “It’s like you were reading my mind.”

“Mmmhmm,” Scarlet cooed. “I’m ready for you, baby. I
want you to do it to me like only you know how to do.”

“Oh yes,” Claire said, moving in to her. “I’ll do it
to you. I’ll do it to you right now. Put on your sleep mask so you senses will
be heightened.”

Scarlet giggled, picked up her mask and pulled it
down over her eyes.

Claire backed Scarlet up to the bed. She pushed
Scarlet. Scarlet fell back across the bed, spread-eagled and horny.

“Oh my,” Scarlet breathed. “You’re so forceful. I
love this new you.”

Claire backed up two steps.

“What’re you doing?” Scarlet said. “Where are you
going?”

Claire grabbed the end of the bed and using every
ounce of strength she had, she pushed the bed upwards. It
squeaked!
And
sandwiched itself into the wall with Scarlet stuck in the middle.

“Helpth! Helpth!” Scarlet yelled.

“Whoopsy daisy,” Claire said with a snigger. “My
bad.”