Swinging in the Breeze

Some like to watch and some like to show, and some are just plain intrigued.

Hope you like this little tale with a twist on the happy flasher routine.

This is for those of you who believe in freedom of expression.

*

George looked down at the small crowd forming on the waste ground at the back of the office. Puzzled, he stood looking through the dirty glass of his fourth floor window at the twenty odd people all standing facing the railway line that ran behind the broken concrete area that was strewn with broken bottles and the remains of old torn paper that blew across the area when ever the wind picked up.

Looking behind him at Trevor, his colleague, who sat at the other desk in the small file littered office, lounging there, his feet up on his own paper strewn desk, his tie hanging loose around his ample neck, and asked him, "You seen this?"

"What?"

"I noticed yesterday there was about ten of the assembly line women standing outside about now, just staring up at the railway line, and today the number has doubled."

"Yeah, well it's probably their coffee break, and they're getting some fresh air."

"Maybe, but why are they all facing the same way. Same yesterday, all facing the railway line!"

Trevor lowered his legs, accidentally dislodging some paperwork onto the dirty beige carpet that had probably been laid about thirty years before and never washed since, dark sticky looking patches and stains looking more like a faded pattern than unwanted additions to the threadbare surface.

Leaning forward, his ample belly stretching the already taut white shirt, Trevor laughed, "No accounting for some of those cows who work down in assembly. Between them they hold only enough brain cells to make up one semi intelligent woman. Most likely they're a bit like lemmings, one faces the railway, they all face the railway."

Looking back down at the small crowd, some in jeans, some wearing sexy little skirts showing off their shapely legs, but all with their hair covered in the ugly white head coverings that hid their crowning glories from contaminating the electronic equipment they put together on the assembly line. The women all worked in what was a enormous cavernous and soul-less area taking up most of the ground floor of the two story building that George and Trevor's office was in.

Watching the women as they all started laughing and pointing up at the train as it rushed by, George's forehead broke into a frown. There was definitely something odd going on here, but what?

As soon as the train had passed by, the woman, some of them giving each other high fives turned around, and slowly the group of women meandered back toward the ugly box like building, much like a herd of sheep, to disappear out of sight, leaving George to gaze at the boring sight of large green overflowing rubbish bins, and piles of wooden crates.

"You know what? Tomorrow I'm going down at this time and see what's going on."

"Nah, you're going down to see if you can get any closer to getting into the pants of some of them. You must be a masochist George. Don't you remember the hell they gave you in the canteen when you tried to chat up that blond in the queue last week?"

"God she's hot, legs that go up to her armpits, and tits that defy gravity."

Trevor arose, stretching his arms above his head, easing his aching shoulder muscles and stiff back. "Cock teaser, and she knows it, the bitch." Walking across the small office he slipped his hip onto the corner of George's desk, knocking aside the empty stained and chipped yellow coffee cup, "Who ever said men were the superior gender. Women are born knowing how to fuck up a mans mind and libido. We have no chance against them."

Laughing George sat down in his chair, leaning back, "Yeah, but aren't they glorious when they're underneath you, and your prick is in that tight hole of theirs, legs clamped around your hips. Heaven on earth mate!"

"A long distance memory for me"

"How is your lovely wife?"

"Pretty much the same, a balls breaker supreme. She's now worked it into an art form, bless her little cotton socks. One day she'll push me too far and I'll do her in."

"Divorce would be a better option."

"Also a lot more expensive! No, I'll stick to escaping to the golf course and down the pub. Besides what would she do if I wasn't there for her to abuse?"

George gave a small grunt, leaned forward and picked up the file he was working on, the woman and Trevor's marital woes drifting to the back of this mind.

*

Giggling the next day Mary asked Pam, who was standing opposite her, putting the little silicon chips into the metal holder, before putting the completed item back on the moving rubber mat, "You coming down then today, or going up to the canteen on break?"

"Going down for the show, much more fun, and I could do with cutting out some calories today. That beef pie was pure fat at lunch, and I should never have eaten the French fries with it."

"I heard that some of the girls from accounts are joining us today. Word is spreading through the building."

"Maybe we should start selling tickets, could be a nice little earner."

Laughing, the older woman carried on deftly putting the small little items into their designated place in the flat metal, her nimble fingers working almost without thought.

*

George glanced at the clock up on the wall, noting it was almost time to wander down to join the ladies that had started to gather out in the drizzling rain. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and shrugging it over his skinny shoulders, he walked past Trevor's desk, asking as he went past, "You coming?"

"Nah, I'd rather have one of the canteens dry iced buns and a cuppa tea."

"OK, see you later." and walked out the door, down the narrow corridor, lined with the plain wooden doors, to the stairs.

*

Pam looked round smiling, about to talk to Debbie from the accounts department when she noticed the man standing at the back of the ever expanding crowd gathering for the daily show. Tall and slim, he stood quietly, a small smile on his lean face, the cute dimples in his cheeks making his features friendly and inviting.

A little flutter in her tummy occurred as his eyes met hers through the throng of women standing waiting, the sound of laughter and raucous comments floating around her.

Turning to face the front, she looked up at the railway embankment, the straw like grass topped by the metal rails, the trees behind the other side of the small hillock standing almost naked, their leaves having fallen with the approach of Fall.

Thinking to herself that he was very nice, she nudged Mary standing next to her, and in a low voice said, "Don't turn round yet, but behind us to the left at the back is a man. Can you glance around without making it too obvious and tell me if you know who he is?"

Mary of course turned round straight away, obvious and uncaring. Turning back she hissed at Pam, "That's George Shepard from Supplies and Facilities. Why? Do you fancy him?"

Looking back at the man, now broadly smiling at her, she laughed, "Yeah, he's cute. A little older than I usually go for, but really nice."

"Well after the entertainment is over for the day, I'll take you over to meet him."

"No, please don't, I'd die of embarrassment, it would be soooo obvious."

"Pam, how the hell are you going to pull a man if you aren't obvious? You have to hit them over the head with a hammer to get their attention."

Just then the sound of the train approaching filtered down the tracks, and everyone faced forward, a collective murmur welling up from the now thirty odd crowd of people.

George looked at the crowd of women, and then up to where they all stared, their faces intent, up to the embankment and the railway tracks. Looking to where they stared he gave an inner smile remembering the look of interest that the young girl at the centre of the crowd had given him. Her dark strawberry blond curls straining to escape her shapeless white head covering, and the pert little turned up nose giving her the appearance of a small imp.

Well maybe missing the afternoon break in the canteen could pay off today he thought, just as the sound of the train almost arriving in front of them could be clearly heard.

Automatically looking towards the sound, he felt the wave of excitement in the crowd swell up, and then the train broke from behind the sad old elm tree further down the line until it was clattering by them, the woman cheering and whooping.

There, standing up against an open window three quarters down the train, totally naked, his fully erect cock standing out from his shaved groin, the man grinned down at the gaggle of woman as the train trundled along the tracks.

The large and very hard rod pointed out, it's dark shiny head bobbing along with the movement of the train, the foreskin pulled back. Free and unencumbered the prick waved along with the mans hand at the laughing woman, enjoying itself, proud and liberated for all to see.

George joined in the laughter, and then suddenly the train, the man and the cock was gone, disappearing up the tracks, weaving its way through the fields and on into the outskirts of town.

Pam turned to go, the smile still on her face, when she came to a sudden stop.

Standing in front of her was George, a twinkle in his eye, and a grin still on his face.

"Hi, I'm George Shepard, fourth floor facilities, I can't promise you such a liberating experience as the one we've just seen, but if you're free tonight I'd love to take you out for a drink."

Smiling up at the lean face, dimples creasing his cheeks, his mop of light brown hair glistening with the damp, Pam's eyes twinkled, "Hi, I'm Pam, main assembly line; I'd like that, with just one proviso."

"What's that?"

"Don't get to many ideas, a couple of drinks and then we'll see. One prick today is probably enough."

Throwing his arm around her shoulders, George looked down at the sassy woman in the crook of his arm.

"Sweetheart, you ain't seen nothing yet!"