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.
