Remodeling Carla

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."

Carla snorted and turned back to the computer. She clicked on a favorite and up popped one of those 'Shoot Your Girlfriend' sites, with a picture of a girl on all fours, pulling her ass cheeks apart. "You call that art?" she said.

"Well" George stammered, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Crap, he thought, another stupid statement. George was really feeling put on the spot now. Not knowing whether to try to defend Frank, himself, or all mankind, he said, "Look, I don't know why Frank looks at these sites. You might be able to better answer than I can. Maybe talk to him about it and try to understand what he gets out of it. Like I said, I fantasize about being with other women, being in certain situations that maybe I could never see myself in. Maybe Frank uses these sites for something like that."

Carla remained seated for a minute, looking at the asshole and gaping pussy of a well-endowed blonde. She suddenly got up and started to the kitchen with her empty wine glass. She yelled back at George and asked if he wanted anything. "A beer if you've got it" he said.

While she was gone, George reached over and minimized the website. He wasn't sure why he did it, it just seemed the thing to do while sitting in a room with someone else's wife. Carla returned from the kitchen, and glanced at the screen, noticing the change. She smiled at George and handed him his beer. They sat for another minute or two, neither saying anything.

After a bit, Carla turned back to George and said, "George, I just don't know what to think or do for that matter. I mean, I love Frank, we were each other's first and he's the only man I've ever been with. We never argue and our love life is good, I think. At least I'm happy with the way things are." She paused in thought, and then said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to burden you with this, but I think of you as a close friend, maybe my only guy friend."

"It's okay Carla, I'm glad you think enough of me confide in me, even if you did catch me a little off base with the porn," sighed George.

Carla took another sip of her wine, while George finished his bottle of beer. Setting her glass down, she said, "George, can you put yourself in Frank's shoes and tell me what may be going on with him?"

"Boy" said George, "I'm not sure I can do that with any degree of accuracy. As a guy, I can make some guess as to what may be going on, but I wouldn't take any of it to the bank."

"Well let's start with this" said Carla. "You said that you look at porn and these other type of sites, right?"

"Well yeah" said George.

"Well why?" asked Carla. Now back in that uncomfortable zone, George got his thoughts together.

"Well other than my porn as art answer, I guess I like to look at it and use it as a fantasy vehicle when I jack....err mastur.... well you know, when I need to relieve the tension, as it were."

With this bit of information, Carla leaned back into her arm-chair, threw one leg over the arm and stared out into space, lost in thought. George sat there opposite her, trying not to stare at her crotch, where her shorts were now pulled tight into her pussy lips and George could see wispy brown hairs trying to escape their confines. "She's trying to kill me", George thought to himself. He shifted in his chair, trying to get his stiffening cock into a more comfortable position.

Carla finally came back to earth, sipped on her wine and then she proceeded to give George her life history and told him all about her marriage to Frank. Now George was feeling like he was sitting in one side of a confessional, with Carla on the other, difference being that he had to try to sit there and concentrate while looking back and forth between her face, her nipples poking through her shirt and her very pronounced camel-toe.

Through it all, the bottom line was that she came from a very sheltered upbringing, directly into a very sheltered marriage to a man who seemed to be equally oblivious. Oblivious, other than his finding the wonderful world of porn. From all that George heard, their marriage was normal enough, although maybe a bit staid and boring for a couple as young as they were. Neither of them had really lived life, or explored each other as much as one normally would have by then. Work and their business seemed to be their world.

After the 'True Confessions' session, Carla seemed less wound-up about the possibility of her husband cheating. Her few questions to George seemed to lead her questioning her own upbringing and feelings, as much as those of Frank. When it seemed that there was not much more that he could help with, George asked, " Well kiddo, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Carla was pretty well talked-out and having polished off the majority of the bottle, she slowly unwound herself from her chair and walked over to George. She stepped into him, pulling her to him, her head resting on his chest and hugged him softly, emitting a soft sigh. It was all George could do to not reach down and grab her by the ass. After what seemed like minutes, Carla pulled back, placed her hands at the back of George's head and planted a kiss on his lips that was more than just neighborly. With a blush and a quick goodbye, George walked, stiff-legged, out to his truck.

Days passed with Carla popping in and out of his thoughts. He couldn't seem to make up his mind about what he really thought of that evening's events. George couldn't get past the fact that she was married and that he had been there as a friend. He also couldn't get past the memories of her unknowingly showing him her goods and fueling his future fantasies about her. In the end, that was the reality; she would be just that, a friend and a fantasy.

About a week later, as George had settled back into his routine, Carla called all excited and asked him if he could help her with a project, and to bring his camera. With no further hints from Carla as to what the project was, George agreed to swing by after work that evening.

When George arrived, Carla met him at the door with another all-encompassing hug and a quick peck on the lips. He could tell right away that happy hour had already begun. Stepping inside, he asked how Frank was and she turned, headed to the kitchen and asked, "Can I get you a beer, sugar?"

"Yeah" said George, at the same time thinking "Sugar?" He also noticed that instead of her standard uniform of short shorts and top, she was wearing what looked like a long, man's t-shirt. Her shapely legs and delicate little bare feet scampered over to him with a bottle of Beck's.

Again he inquired about Frank. "He's off on another sales trip and I'm not sure when he will be back. Getting resorts to sign on with us has been the toughest part of this business. Frank says he hates the travel, but would rather hit as many places as he can, over a longer period, than flying back and fourth from here and back. Makes sense I guess, "She said.

George could still sense a little trepidation in her voice, so he tried to change the subject. "So what is this project you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well," sipping her wine, "After you were here last, I've been doing a lot of thinking. Thinking about Frank and I, but mostly about me and what my life has been like up to this point."

"Okay," George said, taking the bait, "So what does that have to do with this project of yours?"

"Well," she said, fidgeting in her seat, "The project is me. I want to remodel myself and I'd like you to help me."

Now, George was completely lost. Rather than stumble into another trap, he sat back and took a long draw on the bottle.

Carla continued, "After looking at all of Frank's websites and talking to you, I think that maybe I've been missing out on a whole side of life that I was honestly unaware of. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my life and Frank and all, but after looking around on the net and seeing what other women and couples are up to, I feel kind of cheated. So I started thinking about what I could do to kind of catch up and see if I really have been missing anything."

"All right," said George, still feeling like he'd been left out in right field. "What is my role in this remodeling?"

"Here's my idea," she said. "I looked at all of the websites that Frank visited and thought that if that is what he likes, then maybe I should see if I can bring some of it into our lives."

Again, George was unsure about where this was heading, so he asked cautiously, "Sweetie, I guess I'm a little dense. Where do I fit into this?"

She smiled at him, loving the way he referred to her as Sweetie. "Well, I want to take this slowly, so here is where you come in. One of the sites that Frank has bookmarked is a bikini site where girls submit photos of themselves in swimwear's products and they are in, like a little contest." "I thought," she said, "It would be neat to surprise Frank and enter myself and see what, or if, he says anything about it."

"Now I get it," said George, glancing over at his camera bag. "You want me to take the pictures for you." She nodded yes and he continued," You could just use a tripod and your own camera, you know. I'm sure it has a timed delay on it."

"I know," she said, "but I'm not all that good with it and you can kind of pose me, and tell me what looks sexy and stuff. A lot of the girls also include close-ups of certain areas," she said, blushing.

Now it was George's turn to get flustered. "I know we are friends and all, but I'm not sure I should be the one telling you what looks sexy and all that."

"Aw, c'mon," she said, "you pretend you are the photographer and I am the model. Didn't you say that this was something you always wanted to do?"

Giving in, George asked," Okay, when do we begin?"

"How about right know" said Carla, as she grabbed the bottom of her borrowed t-shirt and lifted it over her head.

Talk about your deer-in-the-headlights moment, George was stunned stupid. There before him stood one of his fantasies. Carla had on what had to be about the nearest thing to nothing, that he had ever seen. What little fabric was there was a royal blue. The bottom left little to the imagination, just barely covering that little slice of heaven. The back of the bottoms, was in fact, no back at all, just a little string that disappeared as it came around the bend and then reappeared just north of the sweetest ass-crack he had ever seen. Two little dimples resided just above both ass cheeks. He so wanted to just lean over and lay a kiss on each one. The top was also a whole-lot of nothing. It was just a couple strings and a couple pieces of fabric, just large enough to cover her nipples.

Snapped out his reverie by her giggle, Carla, glancing down at the large lump in George's shorts, "You like it?"

A sillier question had never been posed. George regrouped and turned to his camera bag, giving him time to readjust his dick. He turned back to her and asked,"Well, where do we want to do this?"

"You're the photographer," she said, but since I don't have any surf or sand in my backyard, how about the bedroom? We also have that big tub and shower you put in, in case you want the 'wet' look."

"Works for me," he said, and down the hall they went, George's eyes glued to her ass cheeks, alternately bouncing as her little hips swayed.

Once in the bedroom, the picture taking started with a flurry. Carla had looked at the swimsuit site enough to have a pretty good idea of how to pose to show herself off. She would stand by the bed and bend over, pushing her butt up and out. Then she would lift her leg onto the bed and George got his first glance at her puckered rosebud. She flexed a bit and it seemed to wink at him. If his shorts had been down, his cock would have waved back. Carla continued to bounce around the room. Posing on the bed, the dresser, playing to the wardrobe mirror, now, knowingly, playing to George. Through it all, George gave up trying to hide his excitement.