Life on the Run in Skirts

CHAPTER 1 - A married man when dealing with his wife can be right or happy, not both

At the moment, Ellen was sprawled across her bed in a plain white ankle length flannel nightdress that was buttoned up to her neck. It was her standard weekday suburban housewife regalia. It wasn’t very racy. Her sexy negligees and lingerie were packed away, reserved for Saturdays.

To her husband, the flannel nightgown reminded him of something his grandmother used to wear. It was an opinion he prudently kept to himself.

Ellen was a mature woman with an above average figure, topped by an attractive face, adorned with long brown hair that framed her fine porcelain features.

Unlike in her youth, her comfort now took priority over her skimpy seductress outfits. Something in her psychological makeup had her equate Saturdays with sex. She wasn’t against a little horizontal entertainment at other times, it’s just there’s something special about a Saturday nooner that gets her juices running. Daytime sex was her preference, with Saturday night a poor second choice yet still acceptable.

In college, among other things she had been known for the provocative way she dressed: High heels, short skirts, tight tops and thongs were her trademark. She gave up comfort and practical for clothes that were calculated to stimulate. She kept the local Victoria Secrets outlet store’s profits in the black. The best Christmas present she ever got was when her parents gave her a Victoria's Secret credit card.

She was a player in the social scene and earned more than one varsity letter. During this party phase she never wanted for suitors. The lucky ones that got themselves into her bedroom found that it took more to get Ellen going, but once her engine was running, she was like a runaway freight train. None of those partners ever left unsatisfied nor had any complaints about her performance in the boudoir.

She sampled the entire Smorgasbord of sexual partners; white, black, brown, red, yellow, short, and tall men. There was even a woman sandwiched in there. No matter her occasional sexual deviation, she always found her way back to her penchant of musclebound bed partners. That had more between their legs than between their ears.

Her sexual attitude was imprinted in her DNA from her parents who had been charter members of the hippie-free love movement. The philosophy that they engrained in their only child was; being sexually active is the normal state for homo sapiens, while abstinence was an abomination and contrary to nature. Since they were agnostics, premarital sex had no moral repercussions. There were only two rules, both parties had to be consenting and it should feel good.

They didn’t exactly encourage her promiscuity but they weren’t upset by it either. Whenever Ellen reminisced about those good old days, she had only one regret.

Once she met down to earth George she exchanged her swingers’ card for a socially restrictive wedding ring. She half-heartedly settled into a more conventional lifestyle. Nowadays it was more common to find her in slacks and loafers. Her current eight-year marriage had settled into a routine comfortableness. One area Ellen refused to compromise in was her relationship in the marriage. No way in hell was she going to be a meek subservient wife.

Over the years, she had been called a lot of things, you can bet your sweet bippy, deferential was not one of them. When Ellen wanted something, she just did it. Thinking if her husband objected, he would have to speak up, which he smartly never did. She was in charge in the bedroom. They had sex only when she said so. She accepted that the lack of sexual excitement was the price to be paid as a regular married couple. She went along to get along, if nothing else her husband was a good provider.

George was not, by nature, a romantic type. He tried to make Saturday nights special to please his wife. It was their 'date' night. It held the possibility for romance. But alas, to Ellen it was not spontaneous and everything but romantic. It primarily meant she didn’t have to cook, a chore she hated. They would go to their favorite restaurant. Dependable George would order the same thing he always did, 'Shepard's Pie' and unsweet ice tea. Ellen made it a point to try anything new when it showed up on the menu and to have a different cocktail or two each time.

After they got home, George disappeared into their bedroom and changed into his pajamas while Ellen traded her cocktail dress for a sexy nightgown and peignoir. They would settle down in front of the TV cuddle and enjoy a glass of wine. After the late show, they moved to the bedroom for love making. Ellen picked the when, George decided the how. Therefore, it was always done with George on top in the missionary position. He always went for what he knew. Anything out of the ordinary terrified him. He was comfortable with the known while what she wanted was Circus Olay. Sex, like everything else he did, was task oriented.

Ellen got the impression that at times he just wanted to get it over with. As long as he had an orgasm, he felt his job was done, she very seldom came as a result of their love making. It wasn’t exactly the steamy adventurous sex she was accustomed to as a young girl. She was no longer hyperfeminine but was still a handsome woman with a perfect complexion, a smile that revealed pearl white teeth, round cheeks and the cutest dimples. It was her eyes that melted most men. They were clear deep brown pools.

She had never been the voluptuous dream girl of adolescent fantasies, yet she had a better than average body and still looked great in a bathing suit. Her bikini days seemed to be behind her. Once upon a time, she had been voted prom queen, she would love to have that body back. If only there was some way to turn the hands of time back. Sadly, she had let her appearance slip a tad bit recently, only making things worse. Her saving grace was her positive bubbling positive personality. Unquestionably, she was a glass half full personality. She lay in bed and thought back to how she had met her stodgy husband.

He was the very definition of a nerdy introvert. He was an accountant for heaven sake, as far away from her liberal arts major as you can get.

If she hadn't taken the initiative, they never would have gotten involved. She had ducked into the library on a Friday night on her way to a frat party to get out of the cold and grab a cup of coffee in the snack bar to warm up.

She passed a table with an androgynous looking lad lost in his studies. He was so unlike her normal dating material that her first inclination was to move on and ignore him. However, she felt a melancholiness about him that Ellen found fascinating. There was an air of something about this young man with the dark complexion that called to her like a sailor’s siren song. He was not muscular or ruggedly handsome like her current boyfriend. Rather he could be best described as being cute in a way that Ellen had never considered a man could be before. She sat uninvited at his table, unbuckled her overcoat. He felt rather than saw his private space was being invaded. Looked up he saw a woman that was way out of his league so he decided not to get his hopes up. She had a dazzling smile and dark brown eyes that brimmed with mischief and promise. She introduced herself. He merely smiled at her before going back to his text book.

She thought he was obviously a loner. As a well-known party girl, she had heard every pickup line out there. Being ignored was a first for her. Most men she met tended to be grateful she would condescend to acknowledge their presence. To be ignored was a challenge to her.

They sat in an uneasy silence for several minutes as she batted her eyes at him. He seemed oblivious to her advances. Ellen, as was her want, decided to take charge of the situation. Since he wouldn't do it, she reached over and pushed the book he was reading down to the table. He looked up in astonishment. She asked him if he would be so kind as to show her the way to the cafeteria, adding she would be happy to buy him a cup of coffee for his inconvenience. George never got back to his studies, they chatted until closing. Ellen found that George was a delight to be around. He was truly a social recluse, being the only person Ellen had ever met with no social media accounts. Despite this he was upbeat, charming, and he listened to her. Ellen found that George did not make the conversation all about himself, but more about her. George would talk with her, not at her. A real friendship blossomed as a result. Ellen was just coming off of a relationship with a man who was very dominating and self-centered. George, was just the opposite. Whenever they went anywhere or did anything, George always made sure that it was something that Ellen wanted to do. He was a perfect gentleman, again unlike her normal suitors. Which she found charming, because from her experiences she was convinced if chivalry wasn’t dead it was on its last legs.

Ellen’s friends were baffled at her choice of a boyfriend. She was unable to articulate why she was attracted to this nerd. It was a conundrum that mystified even Ellen.

That chance meeting led to a whirlwind romance. Over the course of several months, they became a serious item. It took some prodding but she eventually managed to bring him out of his shell socially. He kept insisting he wasn't good enough for her. He chased her until she caught him. In the end, she had to propose to him. They were married shortly after graduation, George getting an entry level job as an accountant at a local financial firm called Carlson Inc. They were able to buy a small two-bedroom, one bath house in the suburbs of San Diego.

Against her better judgement, Ellen became a stay at home wife. With only one income money was tight. The short-term plan was they would quickly start a family. Alas, after years of trying it never managed to happen. There was an emptiness in their marriage as a result. George turned his energies to his work. Ellen tried volunteering and she tried the wife’s club scene. Both were unrewarding for her. There was just something lacking in her life. He wasn’t the manliest guy around; Ellen knew that from the beginning. In the passion department, he left a lot to be desired which was hard for Ellen to come to terms with. George was a member of an endangered species, a virgin on his wedding night. However, it wasn't until their honeymoon that she found that he was truly a two-minute wonder. He had read the sex manuals and felt love could be best accomplished by the numbers, insert tab A into slot B and shake it all about.

It was a major change from her previous life style where sex was always an adventure. She accepted that, because she truly loved him. She was willing to put her needs aside because he was the kindest most genteel man she had ever met.

@ @ @ @

She could hear the water running in the shower that brought her out of her reverie. She was waiting patiently for him to finish his customary bathing ablutions. Like most other anal-retentive personalities, George was a slave to routine. Emptying his bladder first, then a shower wetting his hair, soaping it with dander shampoo, lathering the rest of his body working down from his face to his toes. Then and only then did he rinse off. After toweling off, he went to the sink and shaved.

He made a big production out of it, more as a sign of machismo than necessity. Being half native American he seldom needed to shave. Ellen had often thought she could accomplish the same thing with a pair of tweezers and do it in half the time. The same part of the gene pool that prevented whiskers also gifted him with his mother's full head of gorgeous dark hair. Not only did he have her hair, he also had some of his deceased mother's softer features instead of the traditional sharpness that his dead father's face displayed.

He was more a crewcut guy; Ellen had a bit of thing for men with long hair. She insisted that he let it grow out. Marriages are a series of compromises. She persuaded him to compromised and do it her way. She remembers her father often. He had really bought into the whole hippie lifestyle. Whenever she saw a man with long hair in a ponytail, she flashed back to him. He was the epitome of manhood, in her mind. She wanted George to be more like her father so she strongly encouraged him to let his hair grow. It now touched his ears. In her mind it was a start, but only a start.

Their current three-bedroom townhouse only had one bath so she had to wait her turn. The builders had gone for a den/family room in lieu of an extra bath. They were currently saving to add a half bath off the den.

Her long brown hair was a fright of frazzled tangled ends. Something that was going to take some time and effort to correct before she went off to her new office. She had let herself go recently, something she was regretting. With her starting her own business, she decided to try and recapture her lost looks. The objective was to be appear more like the sorority party animal Ellen Newman and less like the housewife Mrs. Ellen Trousdale.

The phone rang, she rolled over on her left side and picked up the receiver. It was George's asshole boss. She listened to the message and promised to pass it along to her husband.

She yelled out trying to hurry up Ducky, his pet name. A moniker hung on him by his older sister Beth; when he wore a yellow onesie with baby ducks on it as a child. Now much to his embarrassment that nickname had hung on and was used only by Beth and his wife.

Watching her seminude husband enter their bedroom, Ellen thought back to their wedding night. How Ducky had so struggled to carry her across the threshold. They were the same height; however, she would die before she told anyone; but he actually weighed less than her on that night.

The fond memories of their wedding night still produced a tingle between her legs. He was so cute. He had tried so hard to please her. It was obvious he put her pleasure ahead of his own. A truly endearing trait. From the very start, he had been self-conscious about the size of his manhood, a result she suspected from him watching too many porno films, where the women were always 38 DDs and the men all had fat 10-inch dongs. In reality, his was about average. She knew because while the president of her college sorority she had done considerable field research on the subject. In retrospect she realized her social life in college revolved around sex. As a child of the 70’s she felt free to experiment, as long as it was safe sex. Anything was open for investigation as long as it felt good.

He fumbled his way through their first time. She had to resist the temptation to just take charge at first and show him how it was done. Thus, revealing her expertise on the subject. To ensure her own gratification she took pity on him and little by little took the lead for the rest of the honeymoon. The first few years of married life had been exciting as Ellen assumed the role of bedroom sensei. Like in everything else in his life, experimenting was scary. He was more comfortable with the normal. Once he learned something, he was determined to do it to the best of his ability.

Recently, the enthusiasm and creativity had gone completely out of their love making. He was always tender and sweet, but Ellen longed for the day when it could be just raw sex. Oh well she had made her bed and would have to lay in it. It would take an extraordinary event before she could justify cheating on her husband, no matter how much her body needed a bout of wild no holds barred manly sex. Many a night she had laid in bed trying to figure out a way to fill that need without destroying her marriage. With George home every night, there was no way she could risk having a dalliance no matter how tempting it seemed. In the middle of the night, she subconsciously questioned if her faithfulness was more a lack of opportunity than moral conviction.

Today, he walked out with a towel around his waist ensuring he kept his back to her while he slipped on his tightie-whities. George was so conservative in every facet of his life that he made Rush Limbaugh look like a flaming liberal.

She critically examined his body. He had always been slim, almost diminutive, in size for a man, narrow shoulders and small boned. Now eight years of sitting at the same desk doing nothing more than corporate taxes had taken their toll. Middle age sprawl had hit him hard. The expression ‘too big for his britches’ was so apropos. He had a good start of a paunch and the slightest signs of love handles.

Ellen couldn’t be too critical, like her husband, she had also let herself go. She was up two dress sizes in the last year alone. That was going to change. She had tired of being nothing more than a childless housewife. Cooking and cleaning had long ago lost its appeal. She was going to put her degree in Interior Design to use. She had just gotten a loan and signed a lease so she could open her own consulting firm.

Being the typical man, he never listened to her suggestions that it was time for a new wardrobe. As a result, the floor of his closet was littered with rejected dress slacks, each too tight in the waist and butt.

As he stood there contemplating his choices, Ellen spoke up, “Honey, I have some bad and some good news. What do you want to hear first?"”

Exasperated, George looked over his shoulder, “Alright, give me the bad news.”

“While you were in your shower, your boss, Leon, called. I took the message. Tomorrow you need to take a bag with a change of clothes, enough for three days with you to work. Rather than coming home he is sending you on the night flight to Mexico City to do some work for a new client.”

“But I don’t speak any Spanish!”

Ellen laughed sarcastically, “That’s funny, here all this time I thought you were an accountant. I didn’t realize numbers were written different in Spanish than English.”

George gave Ellen what he hoped was an exasperated look, “I don’t understand! Mr. Brown usually takes this kind of trips himself or recently sends Josh. There have been a lot of these out of country trips recently. Leon seems to be expanding the company internationally.

"I still don’t want to go. It will mean we will be apart, that's four days. We have never been separated for that long since before our wedding."

"Grow up George business travel is the norm these days. It could turn out to be a blessing, with me just starting up my consulting firm, it will give me time to concentrate on it and get it off the ground. With you being gone I won't have to worry about neglecting you."

George sighed, "Alright, now give me the good news I could use some."

"I've lost 5 pounds. Isn't that fantastic!"

"Yeah just great." He said with less than real gusto.

@ @ @ @

That night George was restless. He was uncomfortable with new things. He much preferred known schedules. He dreaded traveling and just the thought of flying to a foreign country by himself terrorized him. It had taken him hours to decide what to pack and to find his passport.

On the way home from work, he stopped for a large flask of hand sanitizer and a bottle of Imodium AD just in case he got the runs.

Once home he was packing. As he closed and locked his bag, he noticed his gold wedding band. For the first time since Ellen slipped it on his finger, he took it off. He handed it to his wife.

She looked on puzzled. She knew he was not taking it off to be able to fool around so she had to ask, "What's going on Ducky?"

George grimaced as he said, "Today I did some research on the internet. Mexico City is a lawless, dangerous place. Crime is widespread because of the rampant poverty and the drug trafficking. I don't want to take a chance on losing this. So, hold it for me. Please! I will feel better."

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise as she replied, "Of course, I will but I think you are being a neurotic paranoid."

He shrugged. If he had to go into such a risky place, he wanted to make sure that he had done everything he could to take care of his wife.

"I prefer to think of it as being cautious. Also, today before I left work, I had a full power of attorney drawn up for you. It will be in our safety deposit box along with my will. Just in case something bad happens."

"Stop it, you are scaring me. Now come to bed. You will need your rest." Ellen was sure that her husband was being a bit of a drama queen, but she had to agree that bad things did happen to people who were not careful. She had to trust that George would be okay. Right now, the start of her business was on the top of her anxiety list.

That night they slept next to each other, after a quick goodnight kiss. Things might have been different if they had known this would be their last night sharing this bed as husband and wife.

Ellen drove George to work, dropping him off at the curb. He hauled his suitcase out of the trunk, Ellen waved goodbye and drove off with him standing on the curb with a sad puppy dog expression on his face. At lunch, George found a bookstore and bought a Spanish-English dictionary. He put in his normal 9-hour day and called a cab to take him to the airport, getting there two hours early.