Lisa 4

Lisa, Part 4: The Party

That night, we decided to go to a Christmas party in

Malibu. My friend, Ray, was throwing the party. He threw it

each year and I never missed it. You see, Ray was an underwear

model, and he usually had all of his male and female modeling

friends show up for his party. I enjoyed hanging out with the

"beautiful crowd." Models get certain privileges not given to

the common folk. We usually ended up going out dancing when the

party wound down. All of the clubs would let us right in, and

when we stopped at a restaurant, they usually sat us in the

window with no waiting. Also, when I was out with them, I never

had to buy drinks -- more than enough rounds were usually bought

for the table or provided on the house.

Lisa was reluctant to go at first. She told me that she didn't

like "stuck up models," and that she spent more than her fair

share of time with guys who needed their ego stroked. I

persuaded her that Ray wasn't like that (he wasn't), and that she

would have fun. She grudgingly agreed to go, but only if I

promised to make it up to her if she didn't have a good time.

Lisa went home to shower and change, and I called Ray to let him

know I'd be bringing a date. He tried to talk me out of it,

telling me that the female-to-male ratio at the party was already

nearly 2-to-1, that the likelihood of my getting a gorgeous date

at the party was "virtually guaranteed," and that he didn't want

to have to dance with more than his "fair share." I told him a

little about Lisa, that at this point I was enthralled with her,

and that at this point no "normal gorgeous woman could possibly

measure up." Ray and I had been friends since high school, so we

could kid around like that with each other. Ray sounded dubious.

"I don't know that I could date a woman whose arms are bigger

than mine," he said. Ray's arms were huge, and Lisa's arms by no

measure were bigger than his. "Hey, what can I say?" I asked.

"I may be in love." He told me that my "bitch" would be welcome.

Knowing Ray's sense of humor, I gave him a warning: "By the way,

whatever you do, please don't call her a bitch."

"Why not?" he asked.

"It just . . . pisses her off, that's all. Just don't do it," I


"Okay, I won't call your bitch a bitch. Alright with you?"

"Just consider yourself warned," I said.

I stopped by Lisa's apartment to pick her up. She met me at the

door and closed it behind her. She was wearing a sheer, scoop-

neck satin-style black dress that went to her knees. I could see

a distinct line down the center of her chest, and thought how she

looked incredible in anything she wore. She had on black satin

high heels that showed off her shapely calves to perfection. Her

emerald eyes shone bright, like beacons. Again, I smelled apples

and strawberries, and a woody-musky cologne that I couldn't quite

make out. But it was quite alluring. Luckily, the long stem

rose that I had stopped to get matched her outfit exactly. She

smelled it, and ran it down over her lips, chin and neck. She

smiled at me. "Ah, to be a perfect red rose in the winter," I

said in jest. "Remind me later," she joked back. I just wanted

to go back into her apartment and cuddle, but I knew we were

going to be late to the party.

On the way over, we talked about our favorite musicians (I liked

blues, jazz, and classical, but she seemed to prefer heavy metal.

I could handle Aerosmith, but passed on Def Leppard. I made a

mental note to try to drag her to a blues club sometime). I let

her choose the radio station, and waited until Led Zepplin came

on, whom we both liked. We also both agreed that Barry Manilow

bit the big one. We both enjoyed ballet, and we both hated

opera. She hated sushi, which thrilled me to no end. I always

considered sushi bars to be the yuppie version of goldfish


We also both agreed that Bob Dole came off as less of a jerk when

he appeared on Saturday Night Live *after* the elections. Lisa

was a business student at UCLA, so when we tried to talk about

the economy, her comments went right over my head. All the

while, as we talked, I was trying to keep my eyes on the road,

and not to think about the incredibly heady scent of apples,

strawberries, wood and musk drifting my way. As we rode there, I

placed my hand lightly on her thigh, and she covered my hand with

hers. Her thigh was like sculpted marble under the satin-feel

dress. "Eyes on the road," she said, as I glanced her way.

We made it to Ray's house, and the party was well underway. The

house was on a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with a huge

bay window and a perfect view of the coast. As we drove up the

driveway, I could hear the music blaring out of the house, and I

saw some people standing on the steps at the side door, smoking a

joint. I parked the car, got out, opened Lisa's door and held

out my hand. She put her right hand into mine and lowered her

right leg onto the driveway, revealing that splendid calf. She

stood up and squeezed my hand slightly. Then she gave me a peck

on the cheek. I did the same. Her emerald eyes shone and her

brunette hair glistened. She looked magnificent, and as far as I

was concerned, I was arriving with what was far and away the most

beautiful woman at that party. "Remember," she said, "if I don't

have any fun, you have to make it up to me."

As we walked in the door, I spotted Ray almost immediately,

sitting on the back of the sofa and talking with three incredible

looking women. He saw me, smiled, and came over to us. "Hi! I

was wondering where you were!" He said to me. "And this must be

the amazing Lisa!" He turned and looked at her. "Why, she's

just a tiny little thing!" he said, and wrapped his hand

completely around her upper arm. Her eyes flashed angrily at me.

Ray's attention was momentarily diverted. "What did you tell

him?" she hissed under her breath. "Nothing!" I answered.

"Really!" She didn't believe me. Ray leaned over and gave Lisa

a peck on the cheek, introduced us around, and moved on, ever the

consummate party facilitator.

The party was in full swing when Lisa took me into the bathroom.

"What did you tell him?" she asked angrily. "Nothing," I said,

and put my hand on her shoulder. She shook it off. She glared

at me. "I don't like living in a fishbowl. What did you tell


"Okay, okay. I told him that we had just met the other day, that

you were the most incredible woman I've ever met, that you were

very strong, and that I am totally captivated by you. That's it.

I swear!"

"That's all?"


"So, then, what was that bullshit with him grabbing my arm?" She

glowered at me.

"He tried to get me to come to the party stag, and I told him

that I wasn't interested in getting a date here. Oh, yeah, he

also said something about not understanding why I would want to

date a woman whose arms were bigger than his."

"Bigger than HIS?" she said incredulously. "His arms are huge."

"I know. That was what the whole thing was about. Honest."

A silly misunderstanding. We kissed and made up, and went back

out to the party. As I was talking with a few of the women, I

noticed her come up to me and take my hand. I raised it to my

lips and kissed it. "Have you all met Lisa, my date?" I asked.

I was not about to risk any more misunderstandings. I noticed

her glaring at Ray when he wasn't looking, though. Something

told me I had just discovered a weakness: Lisa was the jealous


I don't know why. As far as I was concerned, every other woman

in the room could have just as well disappeared and I wouldn't

have noticed much. The party dwindled as the night went on, and

before I knew it, there were just eight or so of us sitting

around on the sofa, talking. Ray and the others were talking

about their latest modeling gigs, and how important it was to

stay in shape, work out regularly and eat right in their

business. A single pound of excess fat or a pound less muscle

could lose them a job. Lisa looked bored.

"So, Lisa," Ray said. "I hear that you're pretty strong."

I felt her tense up slightly. "Not really," she lied.

"Come on," he prodded. "You look pretty fit. Do you work out?"

"Sure, I exercise," she said. "But it's not my whole life." She

glared at him. She squeezed my hand tightly, and I felt some

pain. I shook my hand a bit, and she let up. I figured that

there was something else going on here. "Hey, anybody want to go

out dancing?" I tried to change the subject. A couple of the

other guests responded enthusiastically, but Ray and Lisa's eyes

were locked. "Dancing is a great workout," Ray said. "I don't

know that Lisa would be interested."

"Sure, she would!" I said, feigning enthusiasm. "Let's go!"

"I could use a good workout about now," Lisa said.

"You're in luck! I have a home gym downstairs," Ray said. He

wasn't kidding. He had a complete gym that any health club owner

would envy. A Universal Machine, Smith Machine, free weights and

a complete set of Nautilus equipment, not to mention the typical

aerobic machines, such as stair climbers, bikes and treadmills.

"I couldn't. I'm not dressed for it," she said. "Let's go

dancing instead." She still had not broken Ray's stare.

The other guests were shifting uneasily in their seats. They

were obviously noticing the tension in the air, too. One of them

laughed uncomfortably.

"I have a clean set of sweats, just about your size, in the guest

room. Why don't you put them on?" he suggested.

Lisa broke his stare, but I could feel that her hand was still

tense. "Naaah, I couldn't. Let's go out," she suggested.

"Aww, c'mon," he said. "Don't be a bitch."

Lisa looked up, and I saw daggers flash from her eyes.

"Uh, oh. You're in trouble now," I said.

"Where's the guest room?" Lisa said, as she stood up. Ray

pointed it out. I don't know what sparked that behavior in him.

I had never seen him act that way, especially not with a woman.

Ray was a charmer. Handsome, smooth, and always a ladies' man.

I liked going out and partying with him because I could count on

a bevy of incredible, horny women flocking to our side whenever

he was around. The women were always feeling his arms and chest.

He would flex and they would sigh. So what exactly was it about

diminutive little Lisa that made him act like a total jerk?

Whatever it was, I knew that Lisa was about to take him down a

few notches, and it wouldn't be pretty.

I took Ray aside. "Don't do this," I warned him. "I don't know

what you're planning, but you've got her pissed off, and you have

no idea how strong she really is."

"I guess I'll find out, huh?" he said.

"Please, for me," I said. "We're good friends, Ray, and she's my

date. Please, just apologize to her and let's go out dancing."

"Oh, alright," he said.

Lisa came back into the parlor in a pair of grey sweats, her face

flushed. "Let's do it," she said tensely.

"Look, Lisa, I apologize profusely if I made you angry," Ray

said. "Let's forget this and go out dancing, like you


The guests on the sofa applauded enthusiastically and voiced

their approval.

"What are you?" Lisa said through clenched teeth. "A girly man?"

she taunted. Her Austrian accent was even worse than mine. "I

pound your weak little body into the ground, you girly man."

"I take your puny little weenie and tie it into a knot!"

I had no idea where this was coming from, but the situation was

way beyond my control now. Having been taunted in front of the

whole group, Ray had no option but to go change into his workout

clothes. A few of the remaining guests groaned that this would

be boring, and left to go dancing. The rest of us adjourned

downstairs to the gym. Lisa stretched, while I passed my time on

the stairmaster. One other guest, an obviously fit woman, began

to jog on the treadmill. Her name was Andrea, a strikingly

beautiful blonde, thin and toned, with almond shaped blue eyes

and Nordic good looks. She was obviously one of the models. The

other two just sat around on the weight benches.

Ray jumped into the room, making an entrance. "Prepare to meet

your doom, young lady!" He was overacting. Lisa stood up,

casually walked over to the Universal Machine and put the pin

down to the bottom of the bench press stack. "I have to warm up

first," she said. Ray smirked as Lisa lay flat back on the

bench. She then grabbed the center of the apparatus with her

left hand and cranked out 15 quick reps. She repeated the

routine with her right hand. "Okay, I'm ready," she said. I

heard the other guests murmuring. Ray's mouth had fallen open.

"Uhhm, let's start with the leg press machine," he said. Ray

warmed up with about 180 lbs on the machine, and he and Lisa

alternated on the machine. It became immediately apparent that

there was a contest in progress to determine who could lift more.

Soon Ray was pressing up some impressive poundages. They both

had made it all the way up to 990 lbs., but they were using every

weight plate in the gym. Ray pressed up his 990. "Well, I guess

that's it," he panted. "There's no more weight in the gym."

"Sure there is," Lisa said. "You get on the machine." Ray

increased Lisa's poundage by climbing on top of the machine and

adding his 200-lb. bodyweight to the total. She easily pumped

out 20 reps.

"Well, that's easy for you to say, but there's nobody else here

around 200 pounds, so I can't match the weight. So I guess the

workout's over." Lisa smiled, and began removing all of the

weight from the machine. "How about if I just press down on the

machine, and you press up?" she asked sweetly. Ray declined.

"What's the matter, don't think you can hack it?" she taunted.

"You don't want to admit that you were outlifted by a *girl*,"

she taunted some more.

"No, you only weigh about a hundred or so pounds. I'll press you

right off the floor," he answered.

I knew what she was capable of doing. "Come on, Lisa, that's

enough," I said. She looked at me harshly. "Lisa," I said

pleadingly. Ray was my friend. She stared at me and I shut my

mouth. I felt the other guests looking at me. I looked at

Andrea, the woman on the treadmill, then shrugged and looked

away. She was smirking.

"You let me worry about that," Lisa said to Ray. "I'll tell you

what. If you lift me off the floor, we'll stop and we can go out


Ray reluctantly agreed, and I sighed resignedly. He climbed back

on the machine, and Lisa stood over it, just inside the frame.

As Ray bent his legs, she wrapped her legs around the bars on the

side and hooked her feet under the lower bar. She pressed her

palms flat against the platform where his feet were. I saw when

she began to press on the platform because Ray's knees

immediately buckled. "Go ahead, press," she said. His face was

getting red. "Admit it, you were beaten by a girl," she said.

He shook his head, and his face got redder. She pressed down

harder, and his knees were against his chest. "Admit it, or I

won't let go," she taunted. Ray's face was the color of a beet,

and I saw a vein popping out on his forehead. He let out all of

the air in his lungs. "Okay, okay, I admit it," he said.

"You admit what?"

"I admit that I was beaten by a girl."

"Now apologize for calling me a bitch."

I rolled my eyes.

"I apologize for calling you a bitch."

"Now tell Andrea that you've had your eye on her all night and

want her to help you recover from this pain."

"Andrea, I've had my eye on you all night and want you to help me

recover from this pain."

Andrea looked up, surprised.

Lisa then let go of the machine and climbed off. Ray rolled

sideways onto the floor, holding his legs. Andrea stopped the

treadmill, went to his side and knelt down. She began to massage

his thighs. Lisa took my hand. "Let's go," she said. "I'll

wash the sweats and bring them back, she called over her

shoulder. As we walked outside to the car, she turned to me.

"You're right," she said. "I had fun."

She gave me a peck on the cheek and squeezed my hand slightly, as

I tried to regain my voice and composure.

End of Part 4

The Shadow

Sharon Best
Aurora Universe, Copyright 1995,1996,1997

(Aurora Universe materials are strictly for Mature Readers over 18 years of age!)