The Bedside Lamp

Becky said nothing. But Bryan could feel her body soften. The hands lightened their grip. The shoulders relaxed. Her breathing went from a cycle of 'holding breath-remembering to breathe' to a calm, steady breathing.

'And you were right,' whispered Bryan into her ear. 'I do pick you apart. I put everything you say under the microscope and point out the contradictions. You see, I take pride in how perceptive I can be, so when you act like you see something that I don't... I just cannot let it go. I can't bring myself to concede that someone else might know better than me without them showing some sort of proof. And even as I say those words, there's a voice in my head saying, "Bryan, that's reasonable!" But if I understand what you said downstairs... all this stuff about perception and being reasonable is completely missing the point?'

Becky began shaking. She was crying again, but this crying was different. Bryan felt the soles of her feet against his shins, felt her legs trying to get one of his legs between them, the way she liked to have duvet between them. Slowly, they melted together, Becky wanting to feel as much Bryan as she could.

'I love you,' he said in her ear. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

The words seemed to pour directly into her heart. Bryan felt the woman transform in his arms, the tension gone, the anger dissipated, the coldness and fear turning into warmth and openness. She turned around so that she could put her face against his chest and her hand on his neck. Unlike him, she needed the words 'I love you' and Bryan gave them to her, over and over, not stopping until she put the tips of her fingers over his mouth to tell him 'Enough'.

***

Then they fucked.

Of course they fucked. Without saying a word, Becky started pulling off her clothes. Bryan followed suit and soon the two of them were throwing everything onto the floor, including the duvet which would get in the way of the kind of fucking Becky wanted. And when they started, her cunt was so wet, so hungry, that Bryan found it hard to imagine how he could ever be mad at her. It made no rational sense, but then shoving your cock in and out of a beautiful, horny woman is not really conducive to rational sense.

Beauty and Cruelty. Those were the two words which came into Bryan's mind every time he had sex with his wife. She was utterly selfish, utterly uncaring, and never more so than when fucking her man. She wanted what she wanted and she just went for it. When she was on top, eyes closed, chasing her orgasm, it was clear by her expression that Bryan was just a cock to her in that moment. If, by some magical power, he were swapped with another man, she would just carry on fucking until she was done.

Yet there was something fascinating, even mesmerising, about being with a woman so ruthlessly intent on her own satisfaction. Bryan had been with much nicer women than Becky in the past, but he had never been happy with them. The problem with kind, sympathetic women was that they deserved kindness and sympathy in return and Bryan did not have all that much to give. Whereas with Becky, he was actually the less selfish of the two and he found that liberating--when he did want something, he could just take it without worrying that he was being unfair to his wife. Okay, two selfish people would always clash, but he saw that as a price worth paying. With his cock buried in Becky's cunt and hips jerking as he ejaculated, Bryan couldn't help feeling that the pros most definitely outweighed the cons.

Afterwards, they lay coupled together, man on top, woman with legs wrapped around man, for many wonderful minutes. Then Becky gave a deep sigh, her legs relaxed, and Bryan took that as a signal that it was time to pull out. But the moment he moved, the woman's legs grabbed him, forcing him back in. Her arms tightened around his body and Becky pressed herself to him--all without saying a word.

Bryan held his wife close and thought, 'This is why I love being with her.' Because he knew Becky wasn't holding his cock inside her for his sake... she was doing it for hers. And deep, deep down--as shallow as it was--Bryan wanted a woman who wanted his cock for her own selfish pleasure. They spent a few blissful minutes more in that position. Then Becky broke the silence with a whisper.

'Bryan?'

'Hmm?'

'Do you really want that lamp?'

***

Becky couldn't understand what she said that was so funny. Bryan was laughing so hard, he was mashing his face into a pillow so that he wouldn't wake up Tara. He had pulled out and was kneeling, while Becky was sitting up at the other end of the bed. He still had an erection and it was wagging up and down as he laughed. Becky would have found it funny if she wasn't so nonplussed.

'Oh, my goodness, Becky,' said Bryan, lowering the pillow. 'I love you so much!'

'Why?' she said, flinging her hands out.

'Because you are so gloriously, shamelessly self-centred!'

'Oh. Thanks.'

'Hey, it's not a good thing; it's not a bad thing. It's just... who you are.'

'Well, you're just as self-centred as I am!'

'I know.'

'W--'

Becky stopped. She was expecting a denial and Bryan's agreement had thrown her off. Bryan smiled and rubbed one of her legs.

'Becky, I think we both know that neither of us are good people,' he said. 'We're selfish people trying to be good... and I think it's the trying that's important.'

Becky thought about that. She began to realise that she didn't actually mind when Bryan said 'horrible' things about her, so long as he also applied them to himself. She put one of her feet on his lap as a peace offering.

Bryan smiled. It was so typical of Becky to regard giving her a foot massage as an olive branch. He could really fuck with her head by reacting, 'Yuck! Get that disgusting thing off me!' Still, he had seen what happened when a man successfully got a woman to doubt her own beauty and he didn't want to go there. Besides, who was he kidding? He loved Becky's feet. He began to run a thumb along the sole of her foot.

'So...' said Becky. 'To get back to the bedside lamp.'

'I don't give a shit about the lamp,' said Bryan.

'Then why all the fuss?'

'It's the dishonesty I can't stand.'

'What dishonesty?'

'Pretending that "we" are making a decision when in fact it's only you. And you throwing a tantrum every time I point that out.'

Becky glowered at him. She tried to take her foot back, but Bryan had anticipated the reaction and held fast to her ankle. Becky pulled harder, but Bryan kept her leg captive.

'Let go, you bastard!'

'Not until I've said my piece,' said Bryan. 'And when I'm done, I'll go banish myself to the spare room if you like.'

Becky scowled, but she stopped struggling. She put her other foot flat on the mattress and gave Bryan a haughty look, like a duchess who condescends to hear her chauffeur's opinion.

'Go on, then,' she said. 'Say your "piece".'

Bryan cleared his throat.

'In our relationship,' he said, 'I've noticed two kinds of decision-making. The first is when we have to make a decision as a mother and father. The two of us sit down, we discuss things, and I feel like both of us really listens to the other. It's so obvious that we both want what's best for Tara that even when we disagree, we never get into the kind of fights that we had today.'

Becky swallowed and looked down. Bryan gripped her leg and leaned forward.

'Becky, some of my favourite moments with you,' he said, 'are those times we sit down and talk about our daughter.'

'Oh, I love those too!'

'They're wonderful.'

'They are! They really are!'

'And yet,' went on Bryan, 'whenever we have to make a decision as a husband and wife, something else happens. I mean, we're terrible at that!'

Becky laughed.

'I suppose we are,' she said.

'We're like a couple of kids fighting over which flavour ice cream to have!' said Bryan. 'And all the maturity and depth that we show when we're talking about Tara just seems to fly out the window! Why is that?'

'Well, maybe...' said Becky, moving her knee to display her pussy, '...as a husband, you're supposed to give me what I want.'

'If you mean give you a good rooting, I'm all for that,' said Bryan. 'But wandering around the shops for three hours pretending to be interested in furniture? Not so much.'

'Not even if it makes me very happy?'

'Becky, do you want the kind of marriage in which the man has to earn sex?'

Becky started. For some reason, Dee and David came to mind and Becky straightened her free leg. Her pussy was still visible, but no longer on display.

'You're right,' she said. 'I don't want that either.'

Becky looked over at her mother-in-law's bedside lamps. They had been emanating light for twenty years, probably, but Becky still wanted to change them. And not with a pair of ugly snake lamps. She sighed and looked back at her husband.

'So, what do you suggest?' she said.

***

It was the following weekend and the sun was shining. According to weather reports, it was going to be a scorcher. Sally had stayed overnight at Tara's house for a sleepover and after breakfast, Becky and Bryan brought the girls over to Dee and David's. The Sandfords then went off to buy their bedside lamps while the Turners looked after the kids. The plan was for all six to have lunch together when the couple returned, assuming they got through that morning without another fight.

But miracles do happen and at ten to one, the doorbell rang and husband and wife were standing at the front door. Becky was holding a large box and almost fizzing with excitement.

'You've got to see it!' she gushed. 'It's beautiful!'

Dee insisted they go into the kitchen so that they could keep an eye on the children through the windows. Because of the sunny weather, David had set up the paddling pool and the two girls were splashing around giving shrieks of delight. Becky was close to shrieking with delight herself as she put the box on Dee's kitchen table and unpacked one of the three lamps she had bought.

Bryan stood in the background, watching his wife spend a good ten minutes extolling the virtues of the lamp and how she had found it and why it was better than the others and how the texture of the lampshade was similar to their bedroom curtains and how she would have missed that if Bryan hadn't pointed it out. Both Dee and David were good sports, saying 'Ooh!' and 'Wow!' at the right moments, although Bryan could see that even Dee was wondering how someone could get quite that excited over a lamp.

But that was Becky. She was a woman of extremes and right now, she was extremely happy, as bouncy as a kid at Christmas. She looked at Bryan with eyes glittering with aliveness and he folded his arms so that she wouldn't jump on him in front of their friends. He loved it when Becky lost control of herself, but still... there was a time and a place.

'How about some lemonade?' said Dee brightly. 'It's homemade!'

'I love homemade lemonade!' cried Becky.

'Great!'

Dee seemed relieved that the whole lamp story was over. Meanwhile, Becky started putting the lamp back into its box.

'Let me do that,' said Bryan. 'You go outside with Dee and I'll put this back with the others in the car.'

'Oh, Bryan!' said Becky. 'I love you!'

She gave him a massive kiss on the mouth, then went off with Dee, the two women chatting away happily. David stood watching Bryan pack the lamp into the box and carefully fold the flaps at the top. Then Bryan picked it up and went through the house, heading towards their family car parked in the Turners' driveway.

For some reason, David felt the urge to follow. He stood on his driveway a few feet before the open door as Bryan placed the box next to two others in the open boot of his car. Satisfied that everything was safely packed, Bryan shut the boot and pressed the car key. A 'blip-blip' and flashing orange lights indicated that the car was now locked. He turned and saw the other man looking at him.

'Are you okay?' said Bryan.

'What did you do?' said David.

'I beg your pardon?'

'The last time Becky was here, she was adamant that marrying you was the worst mistake she'd ever made. And now today, she's like a bride on her wedding day! I've never seen a woman so happy! And over a lamp!'

'Well... that's Becky.'

'Yes, but Dee and I couldn't imagine either of you backing down on this issue. So how did you resolve it?'

Bryan leaned back against his car. He folded his arms and gazed at the colourful shrubs in David's front garden.

'I made a deal with her,' said Bryan.

'A deal?'

'Yes. I suggested a three-step process for shopping for the house. Step One: I look after Tara while she goes out on her own to look for stuff. Step Two: She makes a shortlist of her favourite options. Step Three: I join her on a second trip and I choose my favourite from her favourites.'

'So you make the final decision?'

'Well, that was my original idea,' said Bryan. 'That way, we could legitimately say it was our decision. But when I pointed at my favourite of her lamps and said "That one", Becky realised she was secretly hoping I'd pick another one. So we went and bought three of that model instead.'

'My god! What a palaver!'

'Yeah, but it beats being dragged round the shops for hours at a time. And when Becky went out on her own, she really liked it. She could take her time without worrying about me. It turned out that she only wanted my help with making the decision.'

Bryan put his hands in his pockets and gave a kind of laughing sigh. When he spoke, his voice was wistful.

'You know, Becky is always banging on about having the right to choose,' he said. 'But whenever she's faced with options, she doesn't want to choose... she wants all of them!'

'Oh, Dee's the same.'

'Is she? Because I'm wondering whether this is one of those "differences between men and women" that we're not supposed to talk about these days?'

'What differences?'

'Look, when I buy something, I immediately discard from my mind the things I didn't buy. And so long as the thing I've bought does what it's supposed to do, I don't think about the other options, even if they might have been better in some way. D'you know what I mean?'

'Yes, totally.'

'But Becky's not the same. She continually thinks about what else she might have bought if she'd looked harder or been more patient. To this day, she looks at the orange front room curtains we bought six months ago and wonders whether the blue ones would have looked better. Hell, there are times I've seen her looking at me that way!'

'Yes...' said David, looking uncomfortable. 'But she's not looking at you that way now, is she?'

'No, not today,' said Bryan. 'I did something right, whatever it was. But sooner or later, something will happen and I'll be back to square one. The only thing Becky never looks at with those 'I wonder if I could have done better' eyes... is Tara. Everything else--'

'Are you talking about me, Daddy?'

The men jumped. They turned and saw a deputation of two little girls standing in the open doorway of the front door. They both wore swimsuits and flipflops and had beach towels tied around their waists like sarongs. David and Bryan exchanged a glance and Bryan turned to his daughter.

'We were just talking about grown-up stuff,' he said.

'Yeah, we know,' said Tara.

She managed a tone that suggested 'grown-up stuff' was the most boring topic in the world. Sally turned to her father.

'I have a message from Mummy,' she said.

'What message, darling?' said David.

'How long does it take to put a box in a car?'

Both men laughed and the two girls giggled into their hands.

'We'll be right there,' said David.

The girls ran inside, screeching with laughter. Bryan absently pressed the car key a second time, just to be sure, and the two men looked at each other.

'Well,' said David. 'Back to the fray...'

'Yes,' said Bryan. 'After you.'

'No, after you.'

The sun shone down on the tarmac drive as the two men went into the house, one after the other. And as the door closed, a butterfly fluttered across the front garden, landed on a pink azalea flower and opened its wings to catch the sunshine.

*****

Afterword from the author:

This is the sixth story featuring the marital ups and downs of Becky and Bryan Sandford. As a writer, I wanted to explore the ways in which a marriage goes through phases and how a man and a woman can be both the best thing in each other's lives and sometimes also the worst. However, after the last story was posted, I received a comment which said, 'Why doesn't the author let readers know what the other stories are?' It was a fair point. So here are the six stories in story chronology (although not the order I wrote them):

1. When Becky Met Bryan

2. The Driving Issue

3. The Bedside Lamp

4. The Domestic Equality War (2 chapters)

5. February Sucks in Britain

6. To Love, Honour... and Obey