"You want to watch a little TV, son?" asked Beth kindly.
Chris smiled with relief at the elderly black lady.
"Sure do, ma'am," he replied.
"That's good, sugar. Now where did I leave that remote?" Chris tried to close his eyes as Beth bent at the waist to scan the floor. Her short skirt rode up her smooth thighs. Chris glimpsed guiltily at her through his fingers. Why did women have to do that? He wondered irrationally. Why couldn't they bend at the knees, like any sensible man would, instead of risking back pains by bending at the waist.
He could understand it in young women. But these old ladies ought to know better, he sighed.
Eventually Beth found the control (it was on top of a cupboard, so she had to stand on a chair and stretch, so her skirt rode up her ass again) and she flicked the TV on to a channel that Chris didn't recognise. It was in soft focus and there was some kind of moaning going on. It was only as Beth left the room to make him a drink that he realised he was watching a porno channel.
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