This never really happened. Could it have? I'll never know.
*****
I was the bachelor college buddy of our host's little brother. I was in town to spend some Christmas holiday time with my buddy Frank and his young wife Beth. The three of us were spending the evening in the comfortable suburban home of Frank's big brother Ed and Ed's wife Liz. Beth may have been 19; Frank and I were in our early twenties; Ed and Liz were older than us by perhaps five or six years.
When the booze came out, it became clear that Ed and Frank came from a hard-drinking family. We all sat on the thickly carpeted floor of the living room, we drank, we talked, we drank some more. Conversation wandered among topics in a sort of "drunken walk" fashion. One by one, people passed out on the floor: first Beth, then Ed, then Frank.
I had gotten there as a passenger in Frank's car. Clearly, we were all going to be staying overnight.
Liz had been sitting a little apart from the rest of us, listening to the conversation and adding a knowing comment here and there. Slim, blonde, and attractive, she was in a casual slacks-and-sweater outfit. I know now that this wasn't the first time she had seen an evening end like this. As the last head sagged to the floor, she caught my eye.
"Here, I'll show you where you can spend the night." She took me into their own bedroom. We walked over to the master bathroom, on the other side of their queen bed, and Liz pulled out some towels for me. She pulled down the covers of their bed, and said goodnight. Once she had left and shut the door, I did my business in the bathroom, then stripped down. I had slept nude since I was 16. I slipped between the sheets, settled myself in the left-hand side of the bed, near the bathroom, and turned out the light.
After a few minutes, the bedroom door opened again. Liz came back in. She came around the bed and over to me.
"Would you like me to tuck you in?" she asked. For the first time that evening, I looked at her -- really looked at her.
Liz was only a few inches shorter than me, when I was standing. Her soft pink sweater -- the pink went well with her skin tone -- looked fluffy, perhaps Angora wool? I'm no expert. Its sleeves covered her arms. I didn't see a blouse underneath it, but I could see hints of a couple of other things in there.
Her sweater fell over the waistband of her white slacks, which clung tantalizingly to her ass and legs.
Her face was difficult to read. She was smiling invitingly. But what exactly was she inviting? What did she have in mind? A chaste peck on the forehead? Some sexy teasing and then departure, which might make her feel attractive, but might make me feel frustrated? Or more?
"Tuck me in?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," she said. "I do this all the time with Ed's friends. When they stay overnight, I tuck them in."
