I
was hoping to share a new story this weekend, but the days are slipping away
fast and the motivation to edit draft stories is hard as I’m constantly
being drawn out of the zone due to my thoughts drifting back to the evil
plague.
Therefore I searched the archives to bring you this little treat. I originally published this early on in my blogging days. Not sure if any of you would remember it, but I am re-sharing it now. I’ve updated and edited.
As always, but especially in theses days, I hope this tale serves as a momentary distraction.
* Technical note: Remember you can click on pics for larger versions.
............................
Let’s get one thing straight, this is not my usual routine nor even close. Yet, here I was.
I had wandered into the bar mid-week and mid-morning. I needed to share with someone, I needed to celebrate my sudden good fortune and toast the hope that my life had suddenly turned a corner for the better.
I motioned the bartender over, asked for a drink and her ear. She gladly obliged as it was an easy choice between listening to this stranger’s ramblings or the barfly’s incoherent repetitive daily tirade.
“You see, Courtney, when life has you down in a headlock and you yearn for just a little something to make you smile. When nothing’s come your way, you start to question if you have asked for too much......
It is not as if I was asking for something seemingly extreme, like wanting to escape from it all and be a pro-soccer player or fly away to another continent and experience a big game African excursion or anything silly such as that. No, no, just asking for a simple smile-inducing moment in these hard-fought days. The hard work, the daily challenges, the unpromising tomorrows…I’m sure you understand, Courtney. I couldn’t share with anyone at work… so…
Well this morning, during my multi-layered commute to work, life finally smiled back at me.”
Frustrated and hot this morning was like any other, blending endlessly one day into the next. I waited in the rapidly rising early spring heat for the constantly off schedule, yet always packed to the gills, number 13 bus to arrive for the second to last leg of my long pilgrimage to work. A pilgrimage best described as an urban safari-like trek yet void of any of the positive excitement. However, that all seemed to change earlier this morning when a taxi screeched to a stop immediately across the street from the bus stop. I paid it no more than a secondary thought, as in of itself seemed quite ordinary, just another reckless cabbie. When out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the back door fly open and a whirlwind of limbs, bags and profanity emerge.
In an instant, an approaching thunderstorm arose as a click clacking of heels on concrete grew ever closer. The source of all that noise and vibration was an unexpected solitary petite form. A young, yet well-endowed, long blond-haired, female creature of the classic American Beauty variety to be a bit more exact. If her dress and appearance wasn’t enough to assume it, her soon to be revealed manners would soon solidify my reasons to immediately confirm her tribal affiliations.
As she reached the crowded bus-stop and came into earshot, I nodded and mouthed a cheery ‘good morning’ in the manner of common courtesy used in this region of City-dwellers. She blatantly ignored my immediate greeting.
“Are you okay, do you need some help?” I genuinely offered as she was swirling around, bags and arms flapping while marching six feet forward and back and then back again resembling a deer caught in the headlights and now uncertain of how to reach her destination.
She looked me up and down and apparently not to her liking turned with a stiff neck up and away without acknowledgement. I originally simply mistook the rude gesture as an automatic reaction to perhaps multiple inappropriate comments already directed at her this hot, sticky morning.
Upon closer observation, the intentional ignoring of my greeting was no doubt due in part to her membership to the élite clan of upper city-dwellers who only on rare occasions have been known to wander outside of their safety zone and down to this less desirable region of the City. The females of this clan are easily identified amongst other visual clues by their designer attire highlighted by overly priced and over sized purses and often even more expensive shoes. Yet, this female representative seemed in herself an anomaly having wandered down this deep into dangerous territory and furthermore traveling alone.
She worked her way through the waiting crowd as I strained to listen. “Does this take me to uptown? Yes? No? Speak up! What the hell do you mean, you don’t speak English?! For fucs sake…” She was berating a cluster of elder women huddled at the curb.
There was no courtesy in her need to help orientate herself, instead all that shown through was an angered entitlement at the fact that no one was offering clear answers to her loud demands.
When the City bus finally rolled in, the regular crowd charged. A motley stampede consisting of amongst others a few skid-row locals, a threesome of young hippies enveloped in their own smoke, two large packs of seemingly grumpy Chinese grandmothers, plus a handful of commuting warriors (including yours truly) all pushing their way towards the boarding doors. The out-of-place fawn joined the fray.
Her allegiance to her notorious clan became further apparent to all. The self-absorbed creature wrenched her way towards the front of the line with no care or regard towards anyone other than herself; not the elderly nor the less-than-able (and without even mentioning her rude visual reaction to the dentally challenged). She squeezed her way forward elbowing them all out-of-the-way in the process with her weighted down purse and packages.
I kept the blond fawn in my sights and tracked her. She succeeded in making her way to the front of the line with amazing speed considering her towering heels. As she hiked up the steps into the bus, I will admit I wasn't the only one lowering my gaze as the warm wind from under the bus teased at the hem of her short flowy dress. I quickened my pace to stay on her track and managed to eventually board (to be noted, all without causing a single injury to any of the locales).
“Ma’am. Ma’am, you forgot to pay?” the driver called back to her as he waved in the rest of the crowd. She intentionally ignored him, mumbling under her breath, maneuvering her way towards the back of the bus.
“Ugh! Oh, Ugh!” she called out in a disgusted chorus as she slowly wrangled her way down the already crowded aisle, avoiding any possible passenger contact via an awkward pose and gait. A partially extended hand held out in front of her, clutching her sparkling cell phone as a bayonet with her arms tucked close to her body in an attempt to safe-guard that of which she was obviously self-conscious of. A shield in her mind from any locals who may become so mesmerized by her intentionally featured chest that they might break with custom and reach out for proof. No doubt a few were wondering to themselves about her seemingly engorged size; questioning that despite being ripe for the age of mothering, she did not have any in tow, which in turn left them further questioning if her features were in fact real.
Despite her ballet of self-defense, she was not too preoccupied to miss what she had hoped for; the sight of unoccupied bench seats at the far end of the bus. Focused on self-preservation, she picked up speed and tackled her way through the crowded front of the bus, leaving a trail of disdain as her purse and shopping bags bumped and banged against the other passengers. As unintentional as it could have been argued, despite her relatively small stature she left what some would describe as a damage trail worthy of a Tasmanian Devil.
In spite of her haste, I still managed to catch up to her. My eyes now followed her closely as she hurried to claim her spot. Her full frame now in the clear I watched as she carelessly pulled the oversized heavy leather purse close to her body as she spun around and plopped herself down to take the seat. In turn, the weight of the purse pulled at her short flowy dress, hitching it up enough to allow me an unobstructed view of a rare sighting...... "the bright triangle of happiness" as I like to call it. But it was not your ordinary (if there is such a thing as ordinary in these cases) up-skirt view.
Therefore I searched the archives to bring you this little treat. I originally published this early on in my blogging days. Not sure if any of you would remember it, but I am re-sharing it now. I’ve updated and edited.
As always, but especially in theses days, I hope this tale serves as a momentary distraction.
* Technical note: Remember you can click on pics for larger versions.
............................
Let’s get one thing straight, this is not my usual routine nor even close. Yet, here I was.
I had wandered into the bar mid-week and mid-morning. I needed to share with someone, I needed to celebrate my sudden good fortune and toast the hope that my life had suddenly turned a corner for the better.
I motioned the bartender over, asked for a drink and her ear. She gladly obliged as it was an easy choice between listening to this stranger’s ramblings or the barfly’s incoherent repetitive daily tirade.
“You see, Courtney, when life has you down in a headlock and you yearn for just a little something to make you smile. When nothing’s come your way, you start to question if you have asked for too much......
It is not as if I was asking for something seemingly extreme, like wanting to escape from it all and be a pro-soccer player or fly away to another continent and experience a big game African excursion or anything silly such as that. No, no, just asking for a simple smile-inducing moment in these hard-fought days. The hard work, the daily challenges, the unpromising tomorrows…I’m sure you understand, Courtney. I couldn’t share with anyone at work… so…
Well this morning, during my multi-layered commute to work, life finally smiled back at me.”
Frustrated and hot this morning was like any other, blending endlessly one day into the next. I waited in the rapidly rising early spring heat for the constantly off schedule, yet always packed to the gills, number 13 bus to arrive for the second to last leg of my long pilgrimage to work. A pilgrimage best described as an urban safari-like trek yet void of any of the positive excitement. However, that all seemed to change earlier this morning when a taxi screeched to a stop immediately across the street from the bus stop. I paid it no more than a secondary thought, as in of itself seemed quite ordinary, just another reckless cabbie. When out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the back door fly open and a whirlwind of limbs, bags and profanity emerge.
In an instant, an approaching thunderstorm arose as a click clacking of heels on concrete grew ever closer. The source of all that noise and vibration was an unexpected solitary petite form. A young, yet well-endowed, long blond-haired, female creature of the classic American Beauty variety to be a bit more exact. If her dress and appearance wasn’t enough to assume it, her soon to be revealed manners would soon solidify my reasons to immediately confirm her tribal affiliations.
As she reached the crowded bus-stop and came into earshot, I nodded and mouthed a cheery ‘good morning’ in the manner of common courtesy used in this region of City-dwellers. She blatantly ignored my immediate greeting.
“Are you okay, do you need some help?” I genuinely offered as she was swirling around, bags and arms flapping while marching six feet forward and back and then back again resembling a deer caught in the headlights and now uncertain of how to reach her destination.
She looked me up and down and apparently not to her liking turned with a stiff neck up and away without acknowledgement. I originally simply mistook the rude gesture as an automatic reaction to perhaps multiple inappropriate comments already directed at her this hot, sticky morning.
Upon closer observation, the intentional ignoring of my greeting was no doubt due in part to her membership to the élite clan of upper city-dwellers who only on rare occasions have been known to wander outside of their safety zone and down to this less desirable region of the City. The females of this clan are easily identified amongst other visual clues by their designer attire highlighted by overly priced and over sized purses and often even more expensive shoes. Yet, this female representative seemed in herself an anomaly having wandered down this deep into dangerous territory and furthermore traveling alone.
She worked her way through the waiting crowd as I strained to listen. “Does this take me to uptown? Yes? No? Speak up! What the hell do you mean, you don’t speak English?! For fucs sake…” She was berating a cluster of elder women huddled at the curb.
There was no courtesy in her need to help orientate herself, instead all that shown through was an angered entitlement at the fact that no one was offering clear answers to her loud demands.
When the City bus finally rolled in, the regular crowd charged. A motley stampede consisting of amongst others a few skid-row locals, a threesome of young hippies enveloped in their own smoke, two large packs of seemingly grumpy Chinese grandmothers, plus a handful of commuting warriors (including yours truly) all pushing their way towards the boarding doors. The out-of-place fawn joined the fray.
Her allegiance to her notorious clan became further apparent to all. The self-absorbed creature wrenched her way towards the front of the line with no care or regard towards anyone other than herself; not the elderly nor the less-than-able (and without even mentioning her rude visual reaction to the dentally challenged). She squeezed her way forward elbowing them all out-of-the-way in the process with her weighted down purse and packages.
I kept the blond fawn in my sights and tracked her. She succeeded in making her way to the front of the line with amazing speed considering her towering heels. As she hiked up the steps into the bus, I will admit I wasn't the only one lowering my gaze as the warm wind from under the bus teased at the hem of her short flowy dress. I quickened my pace to stay on her track and managed to eventually board (to be noted, all without causing a single injury to any of the locales).
“Ma’am. Ma’am, you forgot to pay?” the driver called back to her as he waved in the rest of the crowd. She intentionally ignored him, mumbling under her breath, maneuvering her way towards the back of the bus.
“Ugh! Oh, Ugh!” she called out in a disgusted chorus as she slowly wrangled her way down the already crowded aisle, avoiding any possible passenger contact via an awkward pose and gait. A partially extended hand held out in front of her, clutching her sparkling cell phone as a bayonet with her arms tucked close to her body in an attempt to safe-guard that of which she was obviously self-conscious of. A shield in her mind from any locals who may become so mesmerized by her intentionally featured chest that they might break with custom and reach out for proof. No doubt a few were wondering to themselves about her seemingly engorged size; questioning that despite being ripe for the age of mothering, she did not have any in tow, which in turn left them further questioning if her features were in fact real.
Despite her ballet of self-defense, she was not too preoccupied to miss what she had hoped for; the sight of unoccupied bench seats at the far end of the bus. Focused on self-preservation, she picked up speed and tackled her way through the crowded front of the bus, leaving a trail of disdain as her purse and shopping bags bumped and banged against the other passengers. As unintentional as it could have been argued, despite her relatively small stature she left what some would describe as a damage trail worthy of a Tasmanian Devil.
In spite of her haste, I still managed to catch up to her. My eyes now followed her closely as she hurried to claim her spot. Her full frame now in the clear I watched as she carelessly pulled the oversized heavy leather purse close to her body as she spun around and plopped herself down to take the seat. In turn, the weight of the purse pulled at her short flowy dress, hitching it up enough to allow me an unobstructed view of a rare sighting...... "the bright triangle of happiness" as I like to call it. But it was not your ordinary (if there is such a thing as ordinary in these cases) up-skirt view.
No. I was in awe as I witnessed the small field of thin, white rayon stretched taut against her; as black animal stripes added dimensional definition to her treasure that rested just underneath. A truly rare sighting indeed; zebra pattern panties.
Her eyes caught mine and she moved quickly to hide her exotic undies from view, from being spotted by any other strangers. She pursed her lips as if to scold me for looking at that which through no fault of my own, could not be missed.
Yet, I was not about to have none of that! I had just laid eyes on my prize target. To her surprise, I shot back at her with a glaring stare.
She seemed to read my mind, brushed her hair away from her ear and turned away abruptly. Straightening out her dress, she proceeded to selfishly position her oversize purse and shopping bags onto the adjacent seat, an in demand seat in short supply that could have been offered up to any of the other weary passengers.
Being this close to my target, it was now clear that this fawn was indeed a full-grown aged doe; her maturity however remained without question that of a fawn.
The overly crammed bus began its jerking ride up the congested city street as she avoided my eye contact yet unable to conceal her flushing complexion. There was some anger and frustration boiling there and it didn’t seem entirely due to the stress of being on this low-end public transport.
She managed to avoid any further passenger interaction for the next several stops until she began squirming in place as she anxiously anticipated her stop. In her haste to make it to the doors and avoid missing her point of departure, she prematurely got to her feet just as the bus lurched and in the process swung her oversize purse directly into a three-foot asian grandmother standing in front of her.
The woman's protesting scream was interrupted by an another unexpected, yet not uncommon, combined sudden stop and forward jerk of the bus. The unpredictable movements of the crowded vehicle launched Fawn into a careless purse-led tackle of yet two additional seniors and digging of her high heel into a third. Despite the angered screams, she kept on her destructive path unapologetically, pushing onwards towards the exit until she was forced to a halt.
She grimaced as something stood between her and freedom; standing in front of her closest escape route, the rear exit door.
Her expression contorted as she blurted out:
“And what the hell is your problem?! Get outta my way!"
I smirked, shooting her a warning look of utter disapproval at her cumulative actions and attitude. She scanned around for an alternate and hopefully easier escape route. Another sudden slam of the bus brakes, combined with the precarious height of her high heels, and she was easily thrown off-balance as she stretched for the overhead safety bar. The momentum swung her forward, she released her bags as her outstretched arms attempted to grab hold of the overhead bar, but missed it completely. Instead, she collided chest first against me.
As any hunter would, I took advantage of her distraction to my benefit. I grabbed hold of her one wrist and pulled it tight behind my back. My free hand grabbed her other dainty wrist, turned her arm against herself and secured it there in the small of her back as I pulled her even closer and backed up against the tight stairwell’s exit railing.
Shocked at her surprise trapping, her eyes full of anger now mere inches from mine, she struggled to break free. I held her tight in what appeared to some to be the capture of a wild beast and to others, nothing more than a lovers embrace.
Her eyes bulged, caught and in dismay, “Leet meee goo!”
“You are overdue for a firm lesson in manners, Young Lady, so don’t even temp me.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?! You cann’t! Let meee fucn goo!”
"Utter a word of nonsense at me, Young Lady, and I will have you bent over this safety railing, with your dress flipped up and those zebra panties on full display so fast you won't know what happened!”
She pulled back taking a deep breath full of indignation.
“And let me confirm your suspicions that none of these other passengers will raise a word of protest in your favor as I spank that cute tight ass of yours until I am satisfied I have left a glowing impression on you."
“Nice. I can’t believe you told her that. Pour you another?”
“Make it double. You see, Courtney, sometimes you gotta roll with fate; if this is what has been handed to you, who are we to question. So I took my chances and bet the house.”
Before she could respond, the bus jerked to a sudden stop and she managed to free one arm. In a blink, I felt her thin fingers slapping me across the face. Then without pause she swung her arm wildly backwards once more, prepping for a second round.
Yet, this time in the process backhanded the head of a stoned hippie, who in turn dropped his metal pipe, that he was seconds away from lighting; sending it ricocheting down, then up and across the bus, barely missing the nose of the blind man who would never would have seen it coming regardless, until it lodged into the babushka of the Polish woman who began screaming madly to the entire cavalcade at the front of the bus in the international motions that everyone understood as “my hair is on fire!”
Unlike the other passengers I was focused on the beauty that had slapped me, “That does it. You asked for it!”
My right arm shot around the back of her waist as I leaned her forward and down. I steadied myself against the hand-bar as her face met the glass door and world outside, while her bottom was now aimed prominently at the inside of the bus. I pulled her closer and tighter and without hesitation, I slid my free hand under her loose flowy dress and instinctually found and grabbed a firm grip of the thin elastic waistband of her flimsy striped panties and yanked them down as far as they would go in a one-two tug.
“What! Ohmagawd! Wahh…?! Stop you bastard!”
“Shh…Mind your manners, or I’ll pull your dress up and spank you on full display.”
“Nooooo! You can’t!”
I swung my hand back, flipping her short dress up in the process, exposing her bare bottom for a brief second as my hand returned and met her bottom with a smack as the light-weight material floated back down.
Smack!
Smack!
Slap!
"Owww! Owww!"
Smack!
I swung my open palm high and brought it down with an echoing sting against her plump cheeks. She lurched forward in a failed attempt to escape the spanking, causing her face to rub up against the window. Unsuspecting early morning pedestrians, were shocked to see her pleading face zoom past, but were no doubt at a loss to what was going on.
Smack!
"Owww!
Ohhhh! Owww....…Ssstop!"
A solid half-dozen shots of flesh on flesh were delivered in this manner; the curtain rising and falling, teasing the selected audience of locals anxious to see the full view of pale flesh being punished.
As I held her close, her legs straddled my one knee as her body unintentionally began rubbing against me with every impact. I leaned forward over my shoulder and stared down searching for her eyes. Instead I was greeted by her large breasts now on the verge of swinging free from the confines of her dress and bra due to her being tipped on end. I imagined a similar ample cleavage between her lower luscious cheeks. The combined current view, the thought of what her bottom view might be like, plus the feel of her tight body against mine, her constant pouting and moaning, were all having a reaction over me. As I delivered the apparent final resounding spank she let herself slowly glide back against me only to have her eyes dilate as she became fully aware of the long, thick stiff result of this dance.
I pulled her upright, bringing her close and tight once-more as she struggled to break free. It was then that both my hands reached under her dress and sized up her ample bottom, gliding like butter across her bare silky smooth skin. My hands and their intent remained hidden under the exam curtain of her dress.
From my vantage point, an ongoing commotion of the hippie searching frantically through the crowd for his lost pipe, a multitude of multiple passengers alternating at yelling at him and offering advise to the Polish woman who’s headscarf was now fully smoking; all seemed to draw attention away from us.
Fawn, with her back to the crowd, had no true idea of who had witnessed her spanking. She dreaded calling any attention to herself especially in her current captured state. Her large eyes pleaded with me, and I responded by allowing my hands to advance on their mission.
My hands found firm grips on her well-rounded ass for a brief moment, just before I pulled her soft, freshly-warmed cheeks apart, spreading them like fresh-baked bread.
She stared at me in disbelief not saying a word. A moment later her large blue eyes suddenly grew even bigger as she gasped loudly.
“Another?”
“Sure, give me another. What do you think, Courtney, was that too far?”
“This one’s my treat. Nah, the way I see it, you were just giving her a real reason; she was already acting like she had something stuck up in there.”
She visibly fought to stand still as her eyes bulged until one foot slowly rose off the floor as her ankle began shaking nervously, all while her lip trembled in a pout. She inhaled, held her breath and began blowing out anxiously as my thick finger probed. Her eyes rolled back as my middle finger sunk in knuckle deep into her tight hole.
Time stopped on this freeze frame of a capture scene as we stared at each other (unquestionably, time stood still longer for her than I), seemingly reading each other's minds.
Eventually satisfied with my capture it was time to release the prize. With a twinkle in my eyes, I retreated my thick digit from deep between her tight cheeks with a forceful jerk and a whispered pop. Her mouth slowly dropping open.
The bus driver slammed on the brakes, as if forgetting the nearing stop, sending the bus into a rattle of metal and a rumble of swaying angry passengers. On cue, the Chinese grandmothers immediately began their unified war charge towards the back exit and anything that stood in their way - including us.
The angry elder women began their exodus with their large colorful vinyl shopping bags, bulging full of exotic fruit, shoving their way towards us in haste. Each and everyone apparently seemed to suffer from the same odd lack of balance for they all individually managed to bump, poke and prod the same target in passing with their heavy bags; the ample bottom of my captured Fawn.
The last elder woman stopped for a few seconds behind us, shouted out an unknown comment directly at Fawn in a undecipherable tongue that caught the attention of the other passengers in the vicinity. All just before the senior woman delivered an apparent well-practiced, old-world lesson. A single firm and full palm slap that seemed to echo throughout the bus.
“Ohh! Fck!” she screamed out, “What the hell are you doing! You damn crazy old bi…”
“Excuse me, do you need another round, Young Lady?” I threatened.
“No! Nooo, please, no!” She pulled away fearing a repeat performance just as the bus engine jolted to a rattling start giving her the warning that her escape window was short.
She managed to take a single step backwards, yet still visibly shocked, wide-mouthed and speechless. Her mind spinning, her face now flushed bright red as her mind scrambled for an escape plan. She had a matter of seconds to decide what to do; either leave behind or gather up her bags, plus pull herself together or not, and get off the bus before she missed her stop.
Weighing her priorities and her options, she opted for her precious purchases and the immediate escape out the door. Frantically she bent over to gather her oversize purse and shopping bags which had been scattered at our feet, praying she didn't topple over or flash anyone in the process.
Attempting to keep balance on her towering heels onboard the unsteady bus had been enough of a challenge, her heavy baggage adding to it all along; but now the balancing act and haste to exit was truly further complicated. For she now had no time to pull herself together, to adjust her panties. Her striped pair, which had begun slowly sliding ever since I had tugged them down, were now clearly visible just below her short dress. She had spread her legs apart attempting to keep them scrunched taut around her toned thighs, yet this served to only restrict her movements considerably.
The result was an awkward stagger down the small narrow steps off the bus. Her one hand focused on gripping her precious oversize purse and shopping bags tightly, while her free hand struggled. She alternated between gripping the exit railing, to keep herself from falling, and grabbing her panties in an attempt to keep them from sliding further down her legs. As she took her final two extended steps off the bus she stretched for the railing and her panties surrendered. All of this to the joint amusement of the other passengers, but in particular to the coven of elder Chinese women eagerly gathered and awaiting her at curbside.
“Well Courtney, I have seen the elusive wild zebra and despite its nature, it is far more beautiful up close and personal
than any picture could ever do it justice.
Lucky for this creature, I firmly believe in catch and release.”
............................
So did you enjoy that? Did you find it exciting? Perhaps amusing at times? Hopefully.
Please let me know if it served its overall purpose: an entertaining distraction.
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