George Harris was a local building contractor and had been in business for a number of years. Working on the southern California coast, there were no real seasons and the work was always steady. As a small builder, he worked closely with customers, and more often than not, they became friends when the work was done.
At forty years of age, George's life revolved around work except for the time he could steal away to work on his photography. He would have the occasional date, and had a good friend (with benefits) that he got together with whenever one or the other got the urge. It was his hobby that would lead George into a situation that he could never have imagined.
Many years prior, George had done work for a younger couple that worked out of their home in an internet-based travel business. Carla, the wife, was in her mid twenties and just as cute as could be. No more than five feet tall and just over a hundred pounds, if that, Carla was every man's wet dream; well George's anyway. As it is in SoCal, there was never a reason to bundle up, and as Carla worked out of the home, she dressed for comfort. This was generally a pair of tight shorts that almost made it past her ass cheeks and some sort of pull-over shirt, also tight. Always barefoot, her shorts showcased her well-muscled legs atop her dainty feet. Barely hidden under those obscenely tight shorts was a cute little bubble butt and George could only dream about what one would find if they were lucky enough to follow her little butt crack south and around the bend.
Most times, her shirt bottom never made it to the top of her shorts, leaving her cute little jewel-adorned belly button exposed. Snugly tucked away under Carla's little shirts were two perfectly proportioned breasts that George guessed were somewhere in the 32B region. Nicely shaped and firm and riding high, her cleavage, when offered, was tight and when the air conditioning kicked on in Carla's office, the view was even more spectacular.
Carla was pretty, bordering on beautiful, sharing some of the facial features of Eva Longoria. Her hair was a lustrous brown that hung to the middle of her back, usually in a pony tail.
George always looked forward to visiting the jobsite when they worked for Carla and her husband, Frank. The work seemed to take longer than need be, and George always told Carla that she was the reason the work was progressing at a glacial pace. She would just giggle and carry on, seemingly oblivious to the effect she had on them all.
All except Frank it seemed. Frank would work in his office next to Carla's, drifting back and forth to file something or get something from the printer, passing by his knock-out little wife, without so much as a notice. It struck George as a bit odd, and he thought himself lucky that he didn't have such a distraction in his own office; he'd never get anything done. George and Carla flirted with each other when he dropped by to check on things, but neither of them saw it as more than just their natural good humor coming through. Carla was the type to offer a hug whenever George dropped by and if he was lucky he got them coming and going. The work was finally completed and everyone was happy with the outcome. On that last visit, Carla's hug was a little tighter and lasted longer, with her feet coming off the floor as she hung onto George, seemingly not wanting the work to end. George thought he saw a little tear in her eye as he turned to walk back to his truck. He was a little misty himself. He would miss the daily treat of her hugs and getting to gaze on what he declared was the perfect female form.
Over the next year or two, Carla would drop by unexpectedly with a little something she had baked or would call and ask for a little advice on something concerning the house. Carla had also developed into George's favorite fantasy character when he found himself alone, having to take matters into his own hands. In his mind he could see her clearly, as only his mind could. He imagined what truly lie beneath those zero-clearance shorts and imagined the feel of her tits, the perfect hand-full. He cursed himself for never having approached her about photographing her, or sneaking a shot of her while he did progress shots of the job. He knew he hadn't because it wasn't the professional thing to do, and she was married.
Then one day out of the blue, Carla called George and asked him if he drop by. She sounded a bit off, and George knew something was amiss, but he was clueless as to what it could be. He made it to her house in the mid-afternoon and she met him at the door with a big hug, wrapping her legs around him. She even planted a kiss on his cheek; something that was new. You would have thought he had just come back from the war. When she finally let him go and stepped back, George could see in her eyes that she was upset and when she had kissed him, he could smell the wine on her breath.
Carla led George into the house to the couch in the living room. Once they sat down, she immediately teared up and buried her face in George's chest. Hugging her and trying to get her to settle down, George asked, "What's the matter?"
Carla sniffled a bit and looking up at him through tear-soaked eyes she said, "I think that Frank is cheating on me."
George pulled her back tight and thought her statement through. Frank did travel a lot for their business, as it was travel oriented. George had also noticed that they didn't interact with each other much when he was around, but he hadn't thought much about it. So he asked, "Why do you think he is cheating on you?"
"Well" she said, "I don't guess I have any real physical evidence, but I found some stuff on his computer that has me a little upset." Oh Lord, George thought, don't these people know anything about passwords and security.
George didn't really want to get into the middle of it, but he asked "Well, what did you find?"
Carla pulled herself together and said, "Let me show you."
She led George into Frank's office and cycled through his favorites until she came to a list of porn and provocative internet sites. The sites ran the gamut from Wicked Weasel, a swim suit company, to amateur sites and full-on, let-her-have-it type sites. As Carla was bent over the keyboard, scrolling down the screen, George couldn't help but look down at her tight little ass and legs. Distracted for a moment, he caught himself and quickly said, "Well Sweety, I really don't see much to be alarmed with here, I mean, he is a guy and well, hell, I look at sites like this myself all the time."
Carla looked back at George, a thoughtful look in her eyes and said "Well you're not married, and maybe you need, well... I don't know. I just don't know why Frank would look at things like this."
George stood there, a bit of the deer in the headlights moment, trying to figure out where to go with this. "Carla, like I said, Frank is a guy, and all guys are visual creatures. We like to look at pretty women and sometimes even fantasize about them, but it doesn't mean we'll go any further than that. Hell, you walking around here in your little shorts all day, teasing all my guys. I told you we would have been done sooner if you just covered up a bit. Hell, even I had a hard-on most of the time when I was here."
Immediately George wished he hadn't said it, but there it was. Carla didn't quite know how to respond. "I had no idea that I was a distraction. I thought you were just kidding with me like you always do. I mean, everyone dresses like this around here, it's just not that big a deal." George just shook his head in wonder. Could she really be this clueless and innocent?
George once again wasn't sure what to say next. He was certainly no psychologist and had no desire to be someone's marriage counselor, but he considered Carla a friend. They sat there for a minute, the list of websites still on the screen. George fidgeted, and Carla looked at the screen. George could almost hear the wheel turning in her head.
After a couple of minutes, Carla swiveled around to face George and said, "So all guys like to look at this stuff?"
"Well yeah, I guess we do. I mean, I appreciate the female form and being sort of a photographer myself, I look at it kind of like art, with really nice subject-matter."
