The lake-side cabin was in the middle of nowhere. While there were neighbors, they were mostly seasonal people, and I had come up early to help my sister-in-law get ready for a family party scheduled for the coming weekend. I had spent this day, a Wednesday, driving up to the lake, doing some light cleaning, and laying in supplies for the weekend. Anne would be driving up tomorrow, leaving work after a meeting, which meant she should arrive in time for a very late dinner.
It was dark now, the stars bright in the moonless sky, the lake glittering in the reflected starlight. I had decided to turn in, and dropped my jeans into the hamper. I was just about to climb into bed when I thought I would check the score from the Tigers game. I padded out to the small living room, flipped on the TV and plopped down on the couch.
Which is why, when the door opened, Anne had lovely view of me, sitting in my underwear, bathed in the blue glow from the TV, a stupid, shocked look on my face. As I look back on it, I can laugh now at the play of emotions that danced across Anne's tired face: relief at arriving, shock at seeing me on the couch in tatty underwear, amusement at my obvious embarrassment, and, just briefly, a flash of appraisal and desire. That last was firmly and obviously wiped from her mein as she turned to bring in her bag and close the door.
I stammered out a greeting and awkwardly stated the obvious, "Hey, you're here early. I, ah, wasn't really expecting anyone." I grabbed the remote and turned off the tv.
Anne turned back to me and smiled again, walking across the small living room to drop her suitcase, purse and briefcase in her bedroom. "Well, my meeting tomorrow got cancelled, so I cleared my calendar for the rest of today and took off early. I thought I would surprise you, but I didn't expect a Chippendale's show." She smirked as I excused myself to cross over to my room and retrieve my gym shorts and slip them on. "Oh, don't bother on my account - I've seen boxers before," she called as she closed the door to her room. "I'm going to get into some comfortable clothes and then you can see the present I brought you."
Present? I was intrigued. I sat at the small table while she changed. Anne called out from the bedroom, "Hey, if you're decent, grab a couple of glasses, please." I walked over to the cabinet and took down a couple of tumblers and set them on the table. Anne came out of the bedroom with one hand behind her back, a wicked grin on her face. She had changed from her business attire into a faded t-shirt and exercise shorts, her bra-less boobs swaying gently under the soft cotton of her shirt as she walked.
Anne was in her late fifties, a couple of years older than I was. The years laid lightly on her, and her eyes still held a wicked sparkle when she smiled. She was several inches shorter than my admittedly average height, and would be considered heavy by the sort of person who cared about that sort of thing. I was not, and I appreciated her ample curves and dimpled cheeks.
As she came over to the table, she brought her hand out from behind her back and placed a bottle of 15 year old Glenfiddich on the table. A beaming smile broke on her face as she said, "Surprise! I wanted to get something to thank you for coming early to open up and get the supplies, and this seemed to be just right. Now, if you would do the honors? I've been thinking of this since I hit the road."
I smiled, thanked her for the lovely scotch, and cracking the seal on the bottle, tipped a healthy splash into each glass. We raised the glasses, clinked them together, and threw back the amber nectar, allowing the flavors to dance on our tongues as the warm heat settled into our bodies. As we savored the scotch, Anne suggested that I grab some ice for the next round. I took the glasses over to the freezer and dropped several cubes into each glass, returning them to table. Anne poured the scotch, and we settled in to sip the drinks as the ice crackled and diluted the powerful drink.
We sat for some time, refilling the glasses as needed and talked. We talked about the funeral, when we buried my wife (her sister) almost two years ago, and how we were coping. We talked about our kids, and how they were doing. We talked about our jobs, our friends, our lives. We talked as we haven't done in several years. It was a peaceful, quiet night, with a soft breeze blowing through the cabin and the night sounds filling in the pauses in the conversation.
I don't know what time it was when we noticed the bottle was empty and the glasses were dry, but it took us by surprise. We looked at the empty bottle and the empty glasses, and decided maybe it was time to get some sleep. The long drive had taken its toll on Anne and she stumbled as she tried to stand. I reached out to her and steadied her while I moved to support her and turn her toward the bedroom. I told her to relax and that I would make sure she got tucked in safely. She nodded her thanks and mumbled something about being embarrassed about being drunk. I told her not to worry about it and that at least she'd gotten drunk on good scotch. She smiled as I held her so I could turn back the covers then turned her so she could sit on the bed.
Before I could guide her to the bed, she stopped me and mumbled that she needed to take her shorts off before she got into bed, but needed me to help her. When I hesitated, she giggled and said it was only fair, since she had seen me in my underwear earlier. I asked, "are you sure?" She nodded and stumbled a bit when she tried to reach down and take them off herself, so I steadied her and reached down to carefully lower her shorts far enough so that she could sit down. Her shirt was long enough that it covered her panties, and I thought I might get out of this awkwardness without causing any further embarrassment.
I helped her sit down, then knelt to help her take the shorts the rest of the way off. Because they were clingy, they got tangled on her feet and it took me a few minutes to tell her what to do to get them untangled. I ended up kneeling between her legs, drawing the shorts off her feet and dropping them on the floor. When I looked up, she was swaying slightly, and my eyes were drawn to her panties, now at my eye level. She was wearing a pair of bikini panties, in beige lace, her dark pubic hair clearly visible through the lace. I could smell a faint wisp of an intoxicating musk coming from her, and I stayed still, gazing at the lace just inches in front of my face.
The spell was broken when Anne reached down and drew my head up to look into her eyes. "Now we're even. You've seen my underwear just like I saw yours."
I laughed, saying "No, I think I got the better of that deal. Your panties are a lot prettier, and I was a lot closer to the prize then you were."
She smiled, and I helped her lay down in the bed, getting her feet and legs on the bed. I pulled the covers over her and tucked them under her arm as she laid on her side, her head on the pillow. I leaned down and kissed her on her forehead, and said, "there. All tucked in with a good night kiss." She smiled again and I turned to leave the room.
As I turned out the light, I heard her say, in a small, quiet voice, "Chris? I'm sorry to impose on you, but could you do me one more favor?"