Lunch on the Bench

I had decided to pack my lunch, since there was roast beef left over from Sunday dinner. Didn't do it much, usually ate at an overpriced restaurant. Noon time was sunny, so I hauled my lunch and a can of Coke to the park to soak up some rays and watch the ladies. It was a glorious October day with just a bit of a chill in the air. Not so much that I had to keep my jacket on, but enough to keep the women at attention, if you know what I mean.

Choosing the proper bench is critical. I once sat at a bench with a soccer mom, who anxiously waited for the pretzel man. She sat on my left, so I didn't even get a good look inside her blouse. She was quite attractive, however, so I was diverted that day from my observations on these rare lunch time excursions.

Today, however, I was alone. At noon, of course, the sun is overhead, so opportunities for sun-induced transparency are slim, so I sat at a bench that bordered a narrow walk across from another bench. I hoped for an upskirt or two. I lay my jacket next to me to discourage companions, but I lay it on my left. If I were forced to yield the seat to a woman, at least I might get a peek. I unpacked the sandwich, my chips and opened the Coke. The observatory was open.

October is prime time for high beams, the women just don't want to believe it's cool yet. Had a few good glimpses of passersby, then saw a young woman of 30 or so walk towards me with a male companion. They stopped just off to the side of the bench across from me next to a light pole and began to talk; each had an ice cream cone. The woman wore a short black skirt a few inches above her knees which had pockets and she appeared not to be wearing hose. I tried to see the goose bumps on her legs, but she was too far away. They were good legs, though, goose bumps or not. Nice calves. She had a jacket on and a white blouse. She had dark hair with a pixie cut, straight, hanging to the middle of her neck. She was quite pretty.

The woman listened as the man talked earnestly to her. Her eyes wandered towards me and I knew she saw me watching. She immediately changed her ice cream cone eating method. Whereas she had been sort of eating with her lips, she now began to use her tongue, licking and swirling and glancing at me. I watched more intently, which led to the mayonnaise spot on my pants, as she put on her cone eating show and listened to the man. She finished the cone, then stretched and removed the jacket.

The man had moved to the end of the bench near the light pole and was leaning against it. The woman put the jacket over her right shoulder and continued to listen. Her left breast, now directed towards me, was obviously not contained in a bra cup, the nipple was erect and brown and pointing right at me. She kept glancing over. I abandoned all pretense of disinterest. Then she turned around and put her jacket back on. With her back towards me, she put her hands in her skirt pockets and did something amazing. She pulled up her skirt by twisting her hands in her pockets. The man in front probably saw nothing, but I saw the back of her skirt slowly rise until an absolutely marvelous pair of cheeks, unadorned with any fabric, came into view. She held the pose for a few seconds then lowered the dress.

She turned and spoke to the man, then they left. But before they left, she gave him her arm.

She gave me a wink. I covered the other thing she gave me with my sandwich wrapper.