Wednesday, 28 August 2013

There's a woman between my legs!

It's hot today! And packed! Luckily I have a seat by the door. It should be an easy exit when the time comes, even with all these people. But it'll be tricky to stand up when I have to; now there's a woman between my thighs.

As the underground carriage doors opened I absent-mindedly looked towards them. You couldn't miss her! Tall, easily 6 feet (152.4 cm), long crinkly blond hair over her bronzed shoulders and down her back. Red thin-strapped ankle-length cotton clinging dress... clinging! Oh and as she boarded, it was clear to all who have a vague interest in these things, that she was bra-less. Now, being a 31 year veteran of happy marriage, I, of course pay no heed to such things, occupying as I do a life above the baser demon physical plane. However, for the sake of a complete picture for my reader (and Neville, I hope that rash clears up soon), the curvature and fullness of breast under the straight across top may best be described as ample. Her blue eyes and full lips matching the colour of the dress officially qualified her as a Goddess!

"Goddess you say!" I note your scepticism. But here's the thing: After my initial glimpse of female in red dress (clinging) (frd(c)) my complete view of her was blocked out, initially by her hips approximately 12 inches (30.5 cm) from my nose and then, part way through the 3 minute journey to the next stop when she somehow turned round, her bottom. Given my seating position and head height relative to curved body parts, it was tricky to obtain a complete overview. I can tell you this, though: The thin nature of the dress material meant it was extremely difficult to evade the indisputable visual evidence, that she wore a string thong!

Anyway, my predicament being as it was and the fact that I now had to endure the next 3 gruelling minutes, goddess between legs, no front view other than the thong-zone; all I could do was look left or right at other people.

You questioned the term "Goddess"? Well, okay, she clearly wasn't, as far as I could tell, an actual female deity. No glow-surround or Peter Jackson trying to cast her for his next Tolkien film! But if a goddess is otherwise defined as a woman who is greatly admired especially for her beauty, then it was from the people I observed, observing her, that the term stands up.

Men drooled, one literally. Though that could have initially been from his nose - he did appear to have a summer cold! Their eyes widened and grew, like binoculars on heat. And however hard they tried, men's faces turned back to her direction as if magnetised by an irresistible force of nature. Women eyed her up and down in the way women do! They betrayed every thought, from overt disgust (or was that just plain jealousy?) to lust. In between there was begrudging admiration, though eyes surveyed critically checking every detail, trying to find fault that would make them feel better i.e. less threatened and just a little smug.

Possibly more amusing was watching the women looking at the men looking at frd(c). One woman smiled watching these sad pathetic males unable to temper their hormonal urges. Though one suspects the smile masked a quiet envy! Another used a physical reaction: An elbow to her man’s side. He tried so hard but failed to fight the force. A third looked like a Women's Studies post-grad. who thought every man was an arsehole clearly objectifying the person and should be shot for (still) being Cavemen!

My 3 minute journey was coming to an end. There was a shuffle towards the doors as we neared Kings Cross, a popular stop. I felt simultaneously sad yet excited. I might yet see a goddess in uninterrupted Plasma HD 3-D Technicolor Surround Sound-vision. Sadly not! The doors opened and many disembarked, including frd(c), who's thong-zone, back, shoulders, and then arms (in that order) were quickly absorbed into the crowd. As she grew smaller with distance in the otherwise blurred surrounding visual frame, all I could see was her blond mane.

As I left the station and walked to the venue for my meeting I considered what it must be like for her, being looked at in the way she was. But then I thought
'No! I cannot sympathise. Did she for one moment consider me in all this? You know; standing between my legs, looking all Goddessy, placing me in that position?' I think not!

I decided there and then, that if another goddess one day chose to get between my legs again, in public, I would seriously, very seriously consider, if time and space allowed and the journey not too bumpy making it hazardous to do otherwise, think about offering to get up and swap places. Then we'd see how goddess woman liked the white y-front groinal/posterior outlook! I for one would not tolerate being ogled as a love god!