Scotch and Soda

I could hear the click of the keys on Carly's computer in the next room. It was Monday and she was finishing up the payroll. I was at my desk signing the checks, paying for the booze I sold in my bar, and paying for a bunch of other things that make it more profitable to work for someone else. I called my place 'Casablanca' and sometimes I even thought of myself as 'Rick', the bar owner that was played by Humphrey Bogart in the classic movie of the same name.

Every time I signed checks I wondered if I had done the right thing five years ago. I had been thirty-five when I decided to chuck my corporate job in the big city and move to the island. I guess it was worth it. I was my own boss, that is if you don't count the bankers, lawyers, accountants, bureaucrats, employees and customers who were always telling me how to run my business. And having a nightclub on a resort island did have certain benefits.

The 'benefits' showed up between four and five, every weekday afternoon. For the most part they were affluent young housewives who stayed on the island during the summer months. Their husbands worked in the city and only came to see their families on the weekends. As the sun's tanning rays began to dwindle in late afternoon, the bikini-clad women would migrate from the beach to the clubs on the bay side of the island. (The sunsets were breathtaking, and after dark, the view of the bay and the city beyond had much more appeal than the lifeless ocean.)

The swimsuits were usually, (but not always), hidden to some degree by a 'cover-up'. I don't know who the creator of those things thought they were kidding; there wasn't much cover-up, it was mostly show-off. In any event the watching was a lot of fun and I was usually at my table in the bar around four to view the scenery, especially on Mondays when I didn't work into the evening; it was a good time for me to meet someone new.

Most people would also have considered Carly to be one of the 'benefits'. She looked as good as the best from the beach and even though she didn't wear a bikini to work; she always wore very beachy attire that highlighted her many assets. Sometimes she would join me in the bar when she got finished at five. It didn't hurt my image one bit to be seen sitting with such a tantalizing young woman but she had kind of a dampening effect on my chances with the house-wives there. Most women didn't want to compete with Carly. But the real problem with Carly was that not only was she my employee, she was married to my best friend.

As I continued to sign the checks I thought about working with Carly earlier in the day. She had been having some problems booking the previous day's business. I pulled up a chair next to her. The smell of her was always intoxicating. Even though I'm sure it was some exquisite perfume, I always thought of it as being her.

It was the island and everyone dressed very casually. For most of us, casual meant sloppy, but not for Carly. She obviously spent a lot of time on her appearance each day. Even though she had already worked for me for about a month, I didn't think I had ever seen her wear the same outfit twice. Today, she was all in white, probably a tennis outfit.

As I pulled up my chair, she reached down to itch an imaginary spot on the upper most part of the thigh next to me. I couldn't help but look. Her action bared her thigh almost to the waist and caused her already short, pleated skirt to rise several inches higher in front. She didn't push the skirt back down. That was Carly.

I was looking at the front of her panties. My organ was growing in my shorts. After she had worked there only a couple of days, I had given up trying to hide my reaction to her constant teasing. I think she liked the idea that she could give me a hard-on so easily. I wasn't exactly against it and once I had gotten used to it, working with Carly had become a lot of fun.

She had gotten me to look, (as if I might not?) I focused on her knit top with the zipper up the front, that wasn't really as far up as it should have been. Carly never wore a bra. Her tits must have been quite firm as they only jiggled enough so you knew they were real. The shape of her protruding nipples was evident through the tightly stretched tennis top. She pretended to talk about the accounts before us but she knew that I was severely distracted. She looked satisfyingly at the growing bulge in my pants.

While I was thinking about her, she walked into my office. No, I wasn't imagining it, she really was beautiful. Her long brown hair framed a face that could have been on the cover of a magazine. Her nose might have been a little too prominent but the coal black eyes and pouty lips kept me from focusing too much on that. She had supposedly come into my office to bring me the paychecks.

"My back is killing me," she said as she stretched out face down on the couch opposite my desk. "Can I get you to give me a back rub. I'm all tight and I need to get loosened up a little."

I walked around the desk. I wanted to run my hands all over her body. Her short skirt just barely covered her heart shaped ass and the backs of her thighs and legs were fully exposed, inviting my attention. I knelt on the floor next to the couch and began working my fingers into her back, loosening the muscles she claimed were so tight. My hands occasionally stroked her sides. Feeling the sides of her breasts was gradually eroding my resolve regarding her being an employee and my best friend's wife.

Carly suggested, "I can take off the top if it will make it easier for you."

My cock was already sticking straight out in front of me. I had probably not wanted anyone as badly as I did her and I'm sure most people will think I had lost my mind. Maybe I had, but I said, "Not a good idea. One of the bartenders might come in and it wouldn't look very good." I didn't really believe what I had said. If she had offered even the slightest argument I would have caved in. But she didn't. She heaved a slightly disappointed sigh, reminded me that it was already after four and I should be out front. She said she'd join me for a drink after she finished up her work.

I sat at my usual table. It was to one side of the room and near the opening to the outside, affording me a nice view of all the women at the bar as well as those at tables on the patio. The view was as usual, quite extraordinary - lots of scantily clad young ladies, beautifully tanned legs and even a few protruding nipples on those that had removed their bikini tops before putting on the cover-up. The bartender brought me a Scotch and Soda. That was all I ever drank so he didn't have to ask.

It was not unusual for me have a bulge in my shorts from my thoughts about my lovely customers. Tonight it was more than just a bulge; it was a real honest to God erection. But it wasn't from the customers. I was still thinking about Carly and realizing how stupid I had been. I hadn't yet gotten to the point of congratulating myself for what a wonderful friend I had been to her husband Jack. I was only thinking about what I had missed.

Jack and Carly had only been married a few months. Jack had met her last fall at one of the other island nightspots. Jack had brought her over to meet me and I had seen the two of them a couple of times before their surprise wedding. Every time I had seen her she had looked at me like she was ready to take me to bed. This was not because I was so damn charming; she flirted with most men. Her interest in Jack sort of surprised me. It isn't that he's not good looking, but his banker ways, (that's his profession), seemed a little too steady for her. I figured her for the more flamboyant types.

They got married quickly and unceremoniously, during the cold months when I had closed my business and was away from the island. After I got back we hung out together a lot. It was obvious that he worshipped the ground she walked on. What surprised me was that she seemed very genuinely in love with him. As I got to know her, I learned that she not only could have any man she wanted, she had probably had a lot of them. But she wanted a family and Jack was the man she wanted as the father of her children. They both had what they wanted. They were very happy. Who was I to criticize.

Carly came into the bar and sat at my table. While she was waiting for her drink she asked, "Have you found yourself any entertainment for the evening?" I'm sure she wasn't used to being turned down and I could tell from her tone of voice that she still wasn't too happy about it. I really should have been flattered to even be given the opportunity. After all I was fourteen years older than her and my slightly geeky look was not really in her league. I did okay with the women in the bar, not on my dashing good looks, but because I was the bar owner and I lived upstairs. Some women were attracted to that and I took advantage of it.

I told her, "Nope, probably going to spend the evening alone reading a book." I knew that no matter how well I might have done with tonight's crowd, I would still be thinking about what I had already passed up. I wasn't going to be much good for myself or anybody else.

Apparently my answer satisfied her. As we had another drink, the cloud between us began to dissipate. Just before leaving she said, "Jack and I are going to have dinner and a few drinks at Joe's around seven. Why don't you join us." I thanked her for the invitation and told her I would probably be there.

Joe's was the island locals place. It didn't have a great view, a great location, a band or anything like that. But if you were a local, you would surely run into someone you knew there. It was the 'Cheers' bar, a place where everyone knew your name. When I got there, Jack and Carly were already at the bar, having a drink and talking to another of the locals. John was behind the bar and he brought over my Scotch and Soda as soon as he saw me. Carly was still wearing the knockout tennis outfit from earlier in the day. Sitting up on the barstool really showed off her great legs.

When I sat down they were talking to Tadd, a piano player that entertained late nights at Casablanca. I sat between Tadd and Carly. I guess her itch hadn't gone away yet. As soon as I sat down, Carly started to scratch her upper thigh again. Like before, I got a fabulous view of her leg, all the way to the waist, and as before, the skirt hiked up and I got a little peak at the panties. Jack might have been ignoring the exposure, but I sure wasn't. Carly looked at the front of my shorts to be sure she was having the desired effect. She was.

When Tadd left, Carly asked me to move down one so she could rest her legs on the stool between us. She put both of her legs up on the stool, spreading them as much as the stool would allow. Her feet, covered in white canvas shoes and short athletic socks, were practically in my lap. When I looked in her direction, (which was the only direction I was going to look), I was staring up the insides of her thighs and looking right at her panty covered pussy. It was erotic and my soldier was standing at full attention in my baggy shorts. I imagined that I was licking my way up the insides of those thighs and lapping up the juices from her honey pot. I am sure that Jack knew what I was thinking but he didn't seem to mind.

After a couple of drinks we moved to a table so we could eat dinner. It was a good thing that the show was over. Carly had been an unmerciful tease and I don't think I could have stood anymore. After dinner we had a couple of more drinks at the table. Then I suggested that we go down to my bar and play some darts. Jack and Carly were definitely up for this but they lived just a block from Joe's and had walked. Casablanca was over a mile down the island. They asked if they could ride down with me.

I told them, "Not only can you ride down with me, but I will even take you home later, that is, if you can forget how many Scotch and Sodas I've had."

At Casablanca we had a couple more drinks and played a few games of darts. It was after ten on a Monday night and you could have shot a gun through the place without hitting anybody. When we were playing darts, Carly took every possible opportunity to rub up against me. When writing down the score above the dartboard she always stretched up as much as possible, making sure that Jack and I, as well as the bartender, got a really good look at the backs of her legs. This was pretty much normal Carly type of teasing. I could handle this okay. It was the thoughts of her on my office couch, and her legs spread in front of me on the barstool at Jakes, that I could not get out of my head. Jack was a lucky man, I think.

I suggested that we take our drinks upstairs to my apartment where we could sit out on the deck and watch the lights. I had converted an old two-story house into Casablanca. The upstairs had been four bedrooms, but after the changes it had become a very comfortable one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen, living and dining area. I had built the deck on top of the lower porch, which faced onto the bay. As we sat there in the warm night air, Carly noticed my telescope at one end of the deck.

My telescope was usually pointed across the bay at the city where some of the bayside houses afforded interesting watching. However, for the last several days my favorite couple had been away, so I had aimed my telescope down the island at Jack and Carly's place. There weren't many two-stories on the island, so I had a pretty good view of their place. Unfortunately, the only window I could see was the dining room and that didn't afford terribly exciting viewing. I had spent a fair amount of time watching and had only seen Jack and Carly passing the window a few times.

Carly walked over to the telescope and peered into it. I could have crawled under the table when she exclaimed, "That's our apartment! Do you spend a lot of time watching us?"

I weakly explained that it was usually pointed at the city but I must have pointed it in their direction to see if they were home.

Carly could tell I was lying. She asked, "Do you ever see me through this thing?"

I admitted, "Once in a while I see you go past the window, but it's always short. There's not much to see through a dining room window."

"Can you tell what I'm wearing?"

I looked down at the floor and sheepishly replied, "You usually look like you're ready for bed."

"Well I don't usually wear anything to bed. Does that mean you've seen me naked?"

"But it's over a mile," I tried to explain. I could tell I wasn't doing very well with my excuses. I looked over at Jack to see how pissed he was to find out his friend had been watching his naked wife.

He said, "Well she insists on running around the house naked with all the blinds open, so I guess she deserves to have someone looking at her. In fact, I kinda think she likes it."

Carly had a devilish look on her face. She kept asking me questions, trying to find out how much I had really seen. Even though I had spent quite a bit of time watching, I really hadn't seen much of anything. A side view of her naked as she walked past the window was about all. From her reaction though, I was pretty sure that she was going to make sure that the view through that dining room window got a lot better in the future. I could already imagine her standing there, pretending she didn't know I was watching.

It was around eleven and Jack reminded me that he had to be at the bank at eight the next morning. He asked if I would take them home before we all passed out. On the way over, Jack had rode in front and Carly in the back. This time, Jack opened the front door for Carly. It was show time again. When she got in, the skirt went about as high as it could go, without any overt help from her. While the interior light was on I could see a damp spot on the front of Carly's panties. The light went out and Jack got in back. As usual, Carly was delighted with the attention I gave to her exposed legs and she didn't do anything to cover them up.

We drove in silence to their apartment. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, teasing me to no end. I was spending a lot more time watching her than I was the road. It was a good thing there wasn't much traffic on the island or we would have surely had a wreck. When we got to their condo, Carly said, "Why don't you come in for a night cap. Jack and I are going to be up for at least an hour." I parked the car and shut it off. I didn't really care what time it was. With the ache in my loins, I couldn't have said no if I had wanted to.

We were greeted at the door by a frisky wirehaired terrier. The small dog had been cooped up for several hours and was excited to see his owners. Inside the condo, Jack snapped a leash on the dog's collar and headed for the door. He said he was going to take the dog for a short walk and asked me to join him. We headed out, big Jack being dragged by the little dog and me following behind. At the street we headed north, up the island. Jack and I were both half lit and we didn't say a lot. What we did say was unimportant. After about half a block we crossed the street and headed back. Across from the condo, the dog stopped at a large tree. That had apparently been his destination all along.

Jack said, "Now you get to see why I walk the dog."

We turned and looked toward the condo. A full width porch fronted the street side of their place. Looking onto the porch were the large windows of the living room and the master bedroom. Although the light was still off in the bedroom, I could tell that the blinds were open in both rooms. Carly went through the living room and into the bedroom. As she did so, she turned on the light. She walked over to the dresser and looked at herself in the mirror. She removed the loop type earrings she had been wearing all day. Then she bent over and removed her shoes and socks. When she straightened up she glanced toward the street, then looked at herself again in the mirror. I guessed from what Jack had said, that this was probably a nightly ritual. She knew that he was watching, but tonight she knew I was out there too. She seemed to be hesitant. Was she thinking about closing the blinds, or maybe turning off the light?

My cock started to rise in my pants as I wondered what she would do. Her decision was made. She unbuttoned the skirt, pushed it over her hips and let it drop to the floor. She put her thumbs into the sides of her bikini style panties and pushed them downward. They too fell to the floor. She pulled the zipper down the front of her tennis top, lifted it off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor as well. She wasn't wearing a thing.

She was still facing the mirror and since it was on the wall facing the living room, I was only getting a profile view. Only? Her breasts stood out proudly from her chest, her stomach was flat and her ass had a delightful curvature to it. I caught my breath. I was now hard as a rock. This was the same view I had from the telescope as she walked past the dining room window, but now she was standing in one spot, letting me study her delightful body. She turned her back to us and walked out of sight into the dressing room. I was speechless.

Jack broke the silence. "Since we have company, she'll probably put something on. I'm a little surprised that she went as far as she did, knowing that you would be watching. Anyway, I guess you know now, at least a part of why I married her. She's not just my wife, she's my wet-dream too."

I mumbled an 'uh huh' as we continued to watch the window. Carly came out of the dressing room and as Jack predicted, she had put something on. From that distance I couldn't tell too much about it, but she was at least partially covered. And it looked like she was putting on a short robe as well.