Up The Funky Skirt

Hoo, boy, today it was another one of those serendipitous little things that life throws at you. No way to plan for them, no way to make them happen, just gotta sit back, keep your eyes and ears open, and be open to the possibiity that they'll happen. Gotta be ready, and be receptive, and just pay attention to what's going on around you.

Lunchtime in the big Sodexho cafeteria, content with my Diet Cherry Coke and a burrito combo with some cheez and onions on the top. Fifteen minutes to relax, read over some of my pre-lunch notes to get my head around the afternoon, and also to just watch all of the thousands of folks drift by at this big central feeding center. Always good people watching, what with all of the seriously intelligent professional women of all ages, shapes, sizes, and colors, a rainbow of pleasing scenery, always changing.

It was a good nine or ten weeks ago that I'd gotten it here the first time. Unexpected then, but there it was. Sitting in the surprisingly uncomfortable metal mesh bench seats, I glanced up to see what was around. My upward arc of view took me right to the 40-something MILF sitting across from me with her buddy, and the incredibly large view of her lilac panties between her careless splayed legs. The rest of lunch was fun as I kept stealing glances up her skirt. Not particularly arousing, and nothing else to see, really, just that titillation and thrill of seeing something usually hidden, the glimpse behind the curtain.

And now I was sitting against the opposite wall, on the same breezy seats, and the woman across from me, this time a rather large contestant, had her legs open like a Romanian hockey player. And man, did I have a clear shot at the goal. She'd hiked up her heels a bit, on tip-toe as she sat, and her legs were just gaping. Her shortish skirt, with the slit up the front, just opened up like a theater curtain, and there was her reproductive glory, for just about all to take in.

This view was much more intense than the last encounter, with her bulging white panties stretched tight over her vulva. Full camel toe in evidence, with curiously mesmerizing shifts and contours of the cloth as she moved slightly. I thought of the words to describe it, and "funky" came to mind. Defintely not arousing, and not quite to the level of titillating. Not disturbing or strange, just kind of funky, really.

Man, she was close to me, all of six feet away in the bustle of the cafeteria. Wasn't she aware of her posture? Then it hit me: was this a come-on? Was I being offered something? That thought was a shock, and it was quickly apparent from the context of the situation that this was not the case. Unlike my experience as an undergrad, when as a sophomore I had gotten a 90-minute flash from a senior. I was too shy, too unsure, and in retrospect too goddamn dumb to even explore the possibility that it had been intentional, and had lost out big-time. It HAD been intentional, I later discovered, as this Machiavellian young lady was looking to seduce me so she could assume a lucrative on-campus beer distributor representative job that I'd had for some time. Her approach didn't work on me--from her point of view--so she simply seduced my boss, and the job was hers shortly thereafter.

But this wasn't the case now. Panty Woman and her buddy finished their lunches, and were up and out. Seeing her trundle on out was more than enough to confirm that "arousing," "exciting," or "hot" were not the right vocab choices to use in this case. She reminded me of the squatty-body evil sister in James and the Giant Peach, low-slung, built for stability, not necessarily for speed.