Just a Peek

I walked into work yesterday and as I walked down a row of cubicles, I noticed a blonde woman in her twenties leaned back in her chair talking on the phone. Her shirt had ridden up and her pants had gone slightly in the opposite direction. And there, peeking out, was a black, lace waistband and the slight curve of dark material along her outer thigh. There should be a way to thank women for these little peeks, for they truly are a gift.

And I do mean "peek". Not "stare", or "make uncomfortable", or "What the hell are you looking at?" When a woman offers this to you, peek and move on. I remember being about 15 and riding the bus downtown. A woman in her twenties sat in front of me in the seats that run sideways at the front of the bus. When she sat down I noticed that I could see straight into her shirt because of the angle of her arm, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Needless to say, my mind was blown and this brunette and her brown nipples had provided a month's worth of masturbation material.This was the first time I remember getting a "peek", and needless to say my teenage self kept an eye out from then on. Down shirts in class or up shorts and skirts at lunch, I never missed a beat.

I still "peek", not as boldly as a horny teen, but I still notice. Again, I'm not trying to wind up on "Hollaback NYC", you ever gone to that site? Women in New York should be given cattle prods to walk down the street or ride the subway. I take my glance and move on, and again, I consider it a gift and silently thank the women who give them. Be they women in their twenties with the lacey thong peeking out or soccer moms at Target, I appreciate them all. In fact, I think the conservative looking "mom running errands" may be the best of the bunch.

Leaned down, looking on a shelf for something and there it is. Maybe she left the house in a sexy pair of panties that sneak out of her jeans. Or maybe the top of a plain pair of cotton panties pop out when she's crouched in front of a lower shelf. Either way, its a gift. I imagine she's out all day, carting kids around all over. And here she is, in front of me. Pink cotton panties peeking out, maybe just the top of her ass cleavage showing. Maybe she's a little sweaty, maybe even sticky, from some fantasy in the checkout line. After she's home, and the kids are napping, she locks her door. And she slowly pulls those plain, cotton panties down. She lays back, spreads her legs and puts her hand in her nightstand drawer. Her vibe comes out and she nestles it between her thighs and smiles.