At the Fitzhenrys'
Henry was going on, as usual, about some boring football game he had seen on television. Carl was daydreaming, as usual, about Henry's wife Miriam. While Henry droned on and on about some incredible catch or throw or whatever, Carl replayed the fantasies which he had constructed during equally boring visits to the Fitzhenrys' home over the seven or eight years that he and his wife Betty had known them.
Fantasizing about Miriam was the only thing that kept Carl from strangling Henry during times like these, and he knew that Betty approved of anything that kept his antisocial instincts in check. Socializing was very important to Betty, and because Carl loved her dearly in spite of it, he tried to humour her social needs whenever possible. Having Miriam in sight just made it easier.
Miriam had left the room earlier, and had entered the small guest room, which was directly across the hall from the living room where Carl and Betty were at Henry's mercy. The door was visible from where Carl was sitting, but not from anywhere else in the room. Carl wondered idly what Miriam was up to, and periodically stole a glance towards the open door to the guest room, in case he should catch a glance of her while she was putting away the laundry or whatever else she might be doing in there.
Henry was just starting in on a play-by-play description about whatever had happened in the second quarter -- or inning or period, they were all the same to Carl -- when Carl sneaked another glance through the guest room door. There was the briefest flash of skin, and Carl's heart nearly jumped out of his chest until he realized that he had merely caught a glimpse of Miriam's arm. She was doing something that he couldn't quite see because she was standing just far enough inside the doorway so that her activity was hidden from view. She was facing the door, angled just slightly towards him, and he could just see her right arm and an inch or two of the right side of her body. Her face was hidden from view. Her bare arm flashed again as she did something behind her back, and Carl watched intently, transfixed by the graceful actions of the seemingly disembodied arm, and puzzled by what it was she was doing.
As Carl watched, Miriam's body moved ever so slightly further into Carl's line of vision. A little more of her body was now visible, and Carl admired the way in which the simple black dress followed the outline of Miriam's body. She was now swaying slightly, and her arm slowly came from behind her and appeared to be tugging at the front of her dress. It finally hit Carl that Miriam had been undoing the tiny buttons that he had observed on the back of her dress, and that she was now about to pull the dress down over her body, and then step out of it.
Carl was wide awake now, heart pounding and eyes straining towards the guest room. He was dimly aware of Henry's ongoing narration in the background, and that he didn't seem to be noticing that Carl wasn't paying attention. Betty was immersed in a copy of Good Housekeeping, so Carl gave up any pretext of nonchalance and openly stared through the guest room door. He didn't dare miss what he hoped was going to come next.
During the brief second that Carl had been checking up on Henry and Betty, Miriam's dress had fallen to the floor, and she was stepping out of it. Doing so, she moved even further into Carl's line of vision, and as he appreciatively drank in the delicious sight, her face came into view, and Carl realized that Miriam was openly looking back at him. She smiled a strange smile, and Carl knew that the show was entirely and deliberately for him. He crossed his legs gingerly lest he damage some important parts of his anatomy, glanced briefly at his two companions again, and satisfied that he was still safe returned his gaze to Miriam.
She was standing there quietly, still dressed in her slip, and when she saw that Carl's attention was restored, she smiled her little smile and reached up to shrug the straps of her slip from her shoulders. Another little tug followed, and the slip too slid to the floor. Miriam now stood there in a lacy pink under-wire bra and a pair of matching high-cut panties. Carl had seen her many times around the pool in bikinis and maillots which were much more revealing than her present attire, but the forbidden aura of seeing someone else's wife in her underwear, and the fact that she was obviously putting on a private show for him, made it exciting beyond belief. Carl's blood pounded in his temples, and he gripped the arms of his chair as if to make sure that he couldn't be dragged away from the deliciously prurient moment.
Miriam was very obviously aware of Carl's attention, and was just as obviously enjoying it. The awkward first moments were over, and they were playing their own intimate game. Miriam moved her tongue slowly over her upper lip, and once again moved her arms behind her back. The tautness across the front of her bra suddenly slackened, and as Miriam brought her arms back to the front of her body, the bra cups slowly slid down over her full breasts, until finally the strawberry coloured areola, and then her erect nipples were in full view. The bra fell to the floor to join the other garments, and Miriam stood there, still swaying slightly, as Carl sat riveted to his seat, his eyes glued to the beautiful vision visible only to him.
He shifted in his chair, aware of the uncomfortable pressure in his nether regions. He glanced quickly towards Henry and Betty to make sure they were still oblivious to the little drama he was sharing with Miriam. Satisfied, he turned again to enjoy the vision across the hall. Miriam now had her fingers hooked into the waist band of her panties, and when she saw that Carl had returned his attention to her, she pulled down slowly with both hands. As the wispy panties too floated to the floor, she stood there in all her naked glory, her arms at her side.
Miriam was beautiful almost beyond description. Carl had always admired the quiet elegance of her, the simple hairdo, and her confident posture and demeanour. Her face had a softness to it, an appearance of vulnerability, which belied her unflappable nature and level head. Her lush brown hair, naturally pink lips, and steady eyes made her a commanding presence. Now, unashamedly naked in front of Carl, she stood there proudly, shoulders back, still smiling her private smile, allowing Carl to drink in the voluptuous sight.
Miriam's breasts were full and round, and soft enough so that every lecher in the neighbourhood loved to watch her move. Every move orchestrated a symphony of jiggles in full harmony with the rest of her body. The view of the magnificent orbs reminded Carl of a musical metaphor in a novel by Henry Morton Robinson where the protagonist had "spread his hands octave-wise for the full chord of feeling" while appreciating a lover's breast at first hand, so to speak. Carl longed to be close enough to experience the same tactile delight himself, but knew he had to content himself with the present situation. This was already too good to be true, and he knew he had to enjoy it while it lasted. The opportunity might never arise again.
Carl's gaze dropped slightly as Miriam stood patiently waiting for him to complete his appraisal. Her slender waist, softly rounded hips, and the soft whorls of hair between her thighs made him ache for a pleasure he knew he would never feel. Whatever Miriam's reason for her impromptu display, Carl knew that nothing further would come of it. Miriam loved Henry in spite of his faults, and Carl loved Betty in spite of his own. In the meantime the intimate moment, which Carl and Miriam were sharing, would be theirs to treasure forever -- a moment of serendipity in an all too predictable and mundane life.
Carl and Miriam were both motionless now, staring intently at each other. For a long moment, their locked eyes transported volumes of feelings and appreciation to each other -- things that they both knew would never be spoken. Finally, Miriam gave a little shrug, smiled her little smile, and reached down to pick up her clothes. Her lovely form disappeared from view, and several minutes later, she reappeared in the doorway to the sitting room. Henry was still droning on about the game, Betty was still reading about the latest from Dr. Joyce Brothers, and Carl was doing his best to will away his erection.
"Anyone for another drink?" asked Miriam. It was just another Sunday afternoon at the Fitzhenrys'.
