I was sitting in the living room, with two fresh cups of coffee ready for when my wife got home. It seemed like an average moment, if one ignored everything else.
Like how my name is Winston Beigel, and my wife was an actress. Like how she was a star of the top rated comedy on television. Not Kaley Cuoco -- the other blond, busty, tiny spitfire beside her.
And no, Melissa Rauch doesn't sound that squeaky in real life. So save the voice jokes and how she must sound in bed. Now that that's cleared up, back to the extraordinary things to ignore. Like how she was coming home after doing a shoot for Maxim magazine today.
I couldn't take a day off to come with her -- though Lord knows I looked for loopholes -- but she assured me she'd bring copies of her sexy photos. Not that I knew how they'd make her look sexy -- though Lord knows I tried to get hints.
Still, I wanted to make her relax after her obviously long day, and not press her for photos -- not right away. That's what the coffee would help me out for. Once I heard a knock on the door, I was set to put it to the test.
I opened the door to see Melissa, who had a purple coat over her tiny but shapely frame. She greeted me with a kiss and a smile when she saw our living room table. Once she put down her purse and I resisted taking a peek, I joined her on the couch.
After we toasted her and took a sip from our cups, I eased into the conversation. "So I see you're still standing. Well, sitting at the moment," I jested, though the obvious joke still made Melissa laugh. "Did they take it easy on you?"
"They weren't so bad," Melissa answered. "But this was my second big magazine shoot, so I can't compare it to anything. Kaley probably has a ton more horror stories than me." I nodded, recalling Melissa's Esquire pictures some months back, and the tight pink dress she showed off.
It was probably still too conservative for Maxim -- especially after that Lacey Chabert spread from last month. And her biggest work was 10 years ago, so imagine what they'd do for someone on today's biggest comedy. I wouldn't have to for long, although I couldn't get totally sidetracked yet.
"But your horror playlist is still bare? They were respectful, at least?" I felt a surge of protectiveness. Wishing for her to look too....provocative in a room full of men was a fine line. Even if Maxim was probably desensitized to it by now -- or maybe especially if it was.
"They were fine, trust me," Melissa assured me. "They had some good ideas. I was really excited to do them." She rolled her eyes at me, which kept me from making any comments at her words. I just nodded with a smirk and let her go on.
"I mean, they made me put more....on display than I'm used to. But that's kind of the point," Melissa said. "They make Kaley do it all the time in shoots and the show, and it works for her. Kind of works for me by extension too." I chose to think she meant it helped the show and her job security -- not any dirtier meaning. That could stay safe in my brain for special occasions.
"But doing it myself this time....feminism aside, it was....pretty exciting," Melissa commented. "After being so buttoned up for four years, it had to be. I mean, they'll put Kaley in virtually nothing on some weeks, yet they save their restraint for me? Bernadette's just as spicy too, you know!"
"I can imagine," I said very truthfully.
"Exactly. But I came in too late, so I'm the good girl," Melissa reflected. "There are much worse things, I know. But after all these years, it's nice to....try something new. Be someone new that people don't expect you to be. Even though it's right there, believe me."
"I know you're not a liar," I agreed, somewhat uncomfortably.
"I know you know. Sorry to vent, it's probably stupid," Melissa went back into good girl mode. "Breaking out of typecasting can do that." She chuckled and added, "And I'm obviously too exhausted to take off my coat, so there's that."
"Okay then, go take care of that. You can feel less hot in here. As ironic and inaccurate as that is," I gestured.
"Thanks," Melissa smiled and kissed my cheek, then got up to head for our closet. "You're a funny guy. I told them that's what really gets me. Guys with a sense of humor are less impatient and pushy than they could be, you know?"
I nodded as Melissa took her coat off. Whether I stopped nodding after that, I didn't care.
I could have been impersonating a bobble head, and it wouldn't have registered. Not when I saw what was beneath Melissa's coat.
All she had on her upper body was a black bra, exposing perhaps 40 percent of her mouthwatering double D's. As much as I'd seen them naked, and in other revealing outfits during special nights, this was still something else.
If that wasn't enough, she had on what looked to be a pretty tight black....pants/skirt thing. There was still tantalizing bare skin beneath her bra, but beyond that, the pants covered her down to about maybe 4-5 inches above her knees. They showed off the curvy shape of her hips -- and probably the curvy shape behind them too -- while leaving her short but slender legs bare enough to captivate the eye too.
For someone so petite, there were so many....ample delights packed into her, and not just up top. To have it teasingly hidden behind such a sweet, nerdy TV and real life persona was even more unfair. I wouldn't be the only one who saw the naughty girl underneath anymore -- but they wouldn't see her quite like this.
If even that wasn't enough, Melissa said, "Oops! Sorry, one more thing," as if she wasn't aware of what she was doing. She just went over and picked up her purse, like she wasn't making me rock hard right now.
Somehow, I doubted I was the first to admire her like this today. But if this was Maxim's doing....what was it doing out of their shoot? How'd she get away with bringing it out here?
"I did promise you a sneak peek," Melissa seemed to say obliviously -- seemed to, anyway. "I'm still a good enough girl to keep my promises." Keep them, maybe....this was above and beyond that. Whatever this was.
Before I could actually bring it up and poke through her little act, Melissa pulled out a bunch of 8x10 photos. Instead of handing them to me, however, she took one and laid it on the floor -- bending her and her chest down right in front of me. When she came back up, she still looked normal and unfazed, though I doubted I could say the same.
Eventually, I remembered what else she just did. I made myself stop looking at her, then looked at her on the photo. She had on the same outfit she was in now, only she was sitting on her side and leaning on her right hand with a snake on her body. A snake that looked too convincing to be Photoshopped.
This was at least a non perverted thing to ask about. Yet when I looked back up, Melissa was already going upstairs -- and leaving a trail of photos behind her. The direction they -- and her -- were going in likely led to our bedroom door.
I saw no choice but to go upstairs, follow the trail and pick up the pictures. One had her in longer pants, a different black bra and high heels, pulling on a rope. The next had her standing outside in the first black bra and pants, only with a mini skirt, a belt and black gloves added on. The next had her in just one tight black outfit, with even more cleavage popping out.
Once I got upstairs, I looked back at the present Melissa -- who was just entering my bedroom. She turned her back and closed the door before I could savor much of that view. A moment later, she slid another photo through the bottom of the door.
This one had her in a different black outfit, with buttons in the middle that looked easy to rip open. That mental image made me too overwhelmed to move. Instead of barging in, I could only knock on my own door.
Thankfully, I heard Melissa giggle and say, "Come in." But before I did, she added, "Keep looking at the floor."
I sighed, yet settled my stomach and opened the door. Keeping my head down, I walked forward until I found a final photo not far from the bed. She was sitting on a chair, wearing heels, stockings and that outfit with buttons in the middle -- and even more of her breasts exposed. It took everything not to let out a Homer Simpson style groan on that one.
I dared to look up, figuring Melissa would be naked or in another stolen outfit by now. Yet she hadn't changed outfits or taken anything else off -- although she was laying on the bed, on her side while lying her head on her right hand. It wasn't an exact replica of the first pic -- it couldn't be without the snake. But it was still more....affecting up close.
"What is this?" I croaked out as I dropped the pictures. Not the best question, if it was smart to ask any at all.
"Let's just say I feel like....breaking typecasting here too," Melissa softly said.
To back it up, Melissa sat up, reached to pull my face down and kissed me. Technically, the actual kiss was slow and sweet, even as Melissa took my hands and put them on the top of her bra.
While her lips and tongue kept moving leisurely on mine, she encouraged my hands to be more daring. With that in mind, my fingers kept rubbing and trailing her exposed flesh, before tentatively cupping the clothed parts. My hands roamed more freely, as did our mouths, but somehow we hadn't spiraled out of control.
I made myself sit next to Melissa, still holding onto her breasts along the way. Once I palmed them, my thumbs went up top to rub her skin, then took turns plunging between her boobs. After palming and pushing them up, Melissa had enough and pushed me on my back.
I couldn't hold her tits anymore, yet she still kissed me and pushed them against me to make up for it. I could also put my hands on her back, feel the bare skin there and go down lower, so there was that.
When my hands reached her skirt, Melissa broke from my mouth and kissed down my neck. I arched my head back, which gave me a better view of her ass as my hands went towards it. After landing on it, I looked back to see Melissa's alluring green eyes staring up at me, tinged with even more alluring lust as she kissed my throat.
She kissed down to my collar, only to stop and put her hands underneath my shirt. "Might as well warm up here before the main event. Feel free to do the same," she offered, right before pulling my shirt up. I sat up a bit and helped her finish the job.
I laid back down bare chested, with Melissa wasting no time on my exposed flesh. She pressed her chest on my skin, giving me yet another incredible view down there. But her main task was kissing me down to my far less developed breasts.
