"Just one more inch. Just one... more... inch..." I prayed, repeating the mantra that had been on my lips for several delightfully agonizing minutes.
-
I hadn't imagined anything like this would happen to me when I boarded the bus this morning. I'd gotten on at my usual stop, at the usual time, and found it nearly empty. As usual.
Today it was grouchy Mrs. Ritmeier in the front. I smiled and said hello. She only frowned and looked away; no growl meant she must be in a pretty good mood. Further back was Bill, lying across two seats and looking like he was nursing a pretty rough hangover. I didn't bother trying to greet him.
Up the steps to the back, and... there was someone in my seat. I wasn't about to complain, though. She was quite the looker, so I settled down in the opposite seat to admire the view: Blonde hair that just brushed her shoulders, a low-cut boho blouse that showed off a generous amount of cleavage, and a knee-length blue paisley skirt. Ahhh... An excellent start to the day.
Mystery girl seemed quite content to look out the window, allowing me to stare with impunity. I wondered who she was, and what she was doing on my bus. I live in a pretty small town, and it's not often I see strangers. Still... I put aside my questions and focused on the view. Every part of her was worthy of attention. Her Roman-style sandals highlighted shapely ankles and calves. Her thighs - judging by how the skirt hugged them - were just the right amount of curvy, and my eyes kept playing at the hem of her skirt, hoping I could magically see higher.
I spent a while admiring the curve of her ass, and then her breasts, then her ass again, then her breasts... It was so hard to stay focused.
Then out the window I saw my stop approaching. Sadly, I reached for the pull cord; showtime was over. Before I could pull the cord, though, I heard the bell chime. I looked back at mystery girl, and saw her hand on the cord. She was getting off at my stop. Still, that didn't mean she was going my way. I let her leave first, so I'd have at least another few seconds to ogle her ass. She reached the door, stepped down, and turned left. My direction. This was officially the best day ever.
Normally I walk quite briskly, and would have overtaken her in moments, but today patience was most definitely a virtue. I slowed my usual pace down to what felt like a crawl and was rewarded with a magnificent view of her swaying hips. Just as I was thinking it couldn't get any better a light breeze sprang up, blowing her skirt up against her and providing me with glimpses of thigh.
Then, just as quickly, my luck seemingly turned. She slung the bag she was carrying over her left shoulder, and it drooped enough to cover most of her left ass cheek. I could still see the other half, though and she was still apparently headed in the same direction as me, so it wasn't yet a total loss. It probably took me at least another block to realize that, in fact, my luck hadn't deserted me after all.
The bag resting against her cheek was, by friction or static cling or some other force (I really didn't care) slowly bunching her skirt upwards. Every couple of steps she took caused her skirt to rise ever so slightly. I watched with laser focus, willing it to rise faster. It didn't. Instead, that skirt teased me with agonizingly slow process up those delicious thighs.
A horrible thought struck me. What if she took a different path before her skirt made it all the way up? As if reading my thoughts, she did exactly that, crossing left at an intersection where I needed to go right if I wanted to get to work. I hesitated for only a second; there was no way I was going to miss this, and my boss would understand. Yes? Decision made, I turned left.
It was at that point I started praying. Regular God seemed inappropriate, so I directed my entreaties to Dionysus; of anyone up there, he'd probably be the most sympathetic. "Please, just one more inch. Let me see some panty so I can go to work happy." This prayer was not to be answered. After a very long minute, her skirt finally reached the half-way point up her ass to reveal... more ass. Hallelujah! Mystery girl was apparently a thong fancier.
Unfortunately, this meant I couldn't yet break off my pursuit and head to work. I wasn't overly upset, but I increased the fervency of my prayers. "Oh Dionysus, two more inches. That's not to much to ask. Two inches, I see some thong, and all will be well in the world."