In Praise of the Bum Ch. 01

In Praise of The Bum (Or The Ass as Our American Cousins Call It)

I don't know what it was but the rocking of the underground train always had the same effect on me at the end of the day. It made me sleepy. Today I was dozing before the train got to the next station. Maybe it was the heat, the tiredness (and boredom) from my job. The half a bottle of wine at lunch time certainly didn't help.

I was oblivious to the train filling and emptying until we got to Waterloo. Even though I was dozing, hundreds if not thousands of commuting journeys had led to an inbuilt calculator as to where we where so that I didn't miss my station. Well there was the once, but I digress.

At Waterloo, someone stood on my foot. I woke and straight ahead of me was my idea of heaven. A tight, jean clad, perfectly formed and sized bum. I looked upwards and was greeted by a smiling blond looking over her shoulder and down at me. She smiled and silently said the word "sorry." She was probably in her mid twenties, attractive in a girl-next-door sort of way with shoulder length blond hair. She had dark blue jeans on and a simple white tee shirt.

I smiled back and tried to nonchalantly keep looking at her perfectly formed rear. It really was heaven on earth for me, a self proclaimed "bum man" who had perfected the art of lusting after female bums since my late teens.

Just as I was aware that I really should try and look elsewhere and stop imagining the beauty that was underneath the jeans, she turned around. I was now looking at her front. My eyes were level with her waist. As the train moved she reached up to the hanging strap which made her tee shirt rise an inch or two allowing me a glimpse of her flat stomach. She was obviously conscious of this and tried but failed to pull her tee shirt down, but realising this wasn't possible she allowed my view to continue uninterrupted. She certainly had no reason to be embarrassed as what she did show many girls would have been proud of; there was no hint of fat but neither was she a size 0. She looked perfect.

I looked up and as my gaze rose I saw the swelling of her breasts. Not enormous, but what seemed perfectly sized and in proportion to the rest of her. My gaze continued up and saw her face. She was oblivious to my wondering looks as she was absorbed in her music, the tell tale white ear phones leading to an IPod or phone she had in her bag that was slung over her shoulder.

"Damn," I had been caught. She looked down at me looking at her. She smiled at me. Had she seen me taking in this vision of her?

At the next station she again turned around to change hands holding onto the strap allowing me another period of staring and lusting after her bum.

My imagination started going into overdrive. What sort of underwear was she wearing? Briefs or a thong? What colour?

We were approaching my station. I had to get off but was aware that the thoughts and musings had led to a budding erection. Thankfully I was wearing some fairly loose trousers, but nevertheless I may be obvious having a semi stiffy. The fact that she was standing right in front of me so that when I stood up we would probably touch didn't lessen my concerns.

Wow, I was going to be saved. Her body language indicated she too was getting off at the next station. As the train was slowing down she turned to face the doors, allowing me a side on view of her. Those breasts really did look nice in profile.

I stood up behind her. Our hands touched as I grabbed the rail but she didn't flinch or move. On commuter trains it is something that happens. We are all used to it, but today there was a direct reaction from my hand to my groin. "Oh God no!" I thought as my semi hard erection became a notch harder.

The train stopped and I followed her out of the train. As all seasoned travellers know, you reduce all journey times by knowing where connections and exits are and at this station I needed to change to another line. The connecting corridor was right opposite the door of the train.

I followed her off the train, and without hesitation she went down the corridor opposite. She was going to do the same change as me. I hung back and silently cursed the people that got in my way, or should I say, got in the way of my view of her bum as she walked along the corridor. It swayed and wiggled in a most appealing way. "Oh my God," I thought. "You had better behave or you will be in trouble."

As she approached the platform for the connecting train, she turned left. The same way I would normally have gone, but in an attempt to behave and get real, I turned right. "There, problem solved, a fantasy for future use, but now lets get home," I said to myself.

I got off the underground train and made the next connection at the main line station as I continued my journey home, trying unsuccessfully to remove the vision on the girls jean clad bum from my memory.

Standing on the concourse waiting for the platform to be announced I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the girl leaving the magazine store in the station. She was walking purposely towards the area where all the commuters waited; mindlessly looking up at the notice board waiting for the magic number to appear that would signal a rush to the platform for the next stage of their journeys.

She stopped about 10 yards in front of me and looked up at the departure boards. I had to, I couldn't help it, but I shouldn't have, however, once again my eyes were drawn, like a moth to a light bulb, to her bum. I had ogled thousands of female bums. I had been fortunate enough to hold, stroke and caress a fair number too. But, my God! This girl's bum was in a league of its own. Never ever will she have to say to a partner "Does my bum look big in this?" It would always look perfect. The cheeks were perfectly sized for a man to hold with desire and lust, stroking them and worshipping them. I was imagining rubbing oil into them, needing them and opening them to view the pleasures of her pussy and bum hole. Would she be shaved? Would she like anal? As my imagination started running away with itself, I imagined her on all fours, stroking her bum and imploring me to take her doggy style. I was also aware of the return of my erection.

She was moving. Those cheeks were going somewhere. I quickly looked up at the departure board and saw my train was leaving from platform 3. The same platform she was heading to. I followed her at a safe distance and noticed the carriage she was getting on. The same one I would normally use. But not tonight. I was going to be sensible and get on another one, even though it may add a few yards and maybe a minute to my commute as I would have to walk further from the train to the station exit when I reached my home station.

I managed to get a seat and immediately started mentally beating myself up for making such a fool of myself. What was I doing? What if I had been caught? It was clear I was lusting after her like an old pervert, unable to take my gaze, no not gaze, I was staring for gods sake! Unable to avert my staring at her. My God, I must be 25 years older than her! She was only a bit older than my eldest daughter!

Eventually the train pulled into my station and I hoped and prayed I wouldn't see her. Wouldn't see her perfectly shaped bum, tightly enclosed in those jeans, actuating the curves and teasing me with what was beneath the denim.

Well, too bad!

I did see her. Maybe 5 yards ahead of me, walking briskly up the steps making her bum look even better as her jeans stretched with her every movement. She walked through the turnstile, collecting her ticket indicating she was a regular commuter. Why hadn't I seen her before? After all commuters are creatures of habit. Day in, day out. Wherever possible, same train, same carriage, same seat.

She continued to walk briskly as I sauntered towards the car park, increasing the distance between us. I wanted to have another sneaky look, but thankfully Mr Sensible was now in charge of my brain, not Mr Dirty Old Man or Mr Lustful.

I saw her look into her bag and remove something. Car keys?

She slowed down and then next thing was that I saw her open the door of an old Ford Ka and get in. As though it was the most natural thing in the world I glanced between her car and the one next door, just as her long jean covered leg disappeared and she shut the door.

I meanwhile had already approached my car and realised that as we had parked so close together there was a very good chance we had been on the same train in the morning. I immediately made a mental note to catch the same train the next day. Why? What did I expect to achieve. Another hour or so of perving and trying to catch a glance of her? What if she didn't wear jeans? What if it was raining and she wore a long coat. What about me getting a grip and realising what I had was now turning into an infatuation.

I drove home and endured a night of domestic boredom, trying to maintain a conversation with my wife and feign interest in what ever crap we were watching on the TV.

As we went to bed, my wife said: "I hope you aren't feeling randy, I am so tired."

"No, It's my turn for the headache," I replied smiling so as to ensure she knew that I was joking.

I kissed her goodnight but I knew I was unable to sleep. "I will only be a fidget," I said, "I'll go downstairs and play on the computer for a bit till I'm tired."

"OK," she said in a sleepy voice, "don't be too long."

I went downstairs and turned the PC on and poured myself a large glass of wine as I waited for it to boot up.

"After today I need to see some porn!" I said to myself.

I went onto one of my favourite sites; Literotica but couldn't see any new stories that caught my attention. I then went to the forum and wanted to look at the amateur pictures. I didn't normally like these as they weren't usually explicit enough for my tastes, so I have no idea why I did it that night.

There was a new posting from "27 year old new postings, please be nice."

I clicked on it and glanced through the normal verbage and then clicked on the first picture attachement. "Oh my God!" I nearly shouted out aloud. It was her. The girl from the train.

The picture had a full face with one arm over her breasts and the other hiding her pubic region. I enlarged the picture. There was no doubt, it was her. I couldn't believe it. It really was her.

Still in some sort of disbelief, I opened the next picture. It most definitely was her. It was a shot of her looking over her shoulder at the camera and her bum in full show. It really was heavenly. It was like I saw her on the underground train but now I could see the real deal. I sat there mesmerised by what was in front of me. Her smile was not forced; it was natural, someone enjoying doing the pose. Her bum looked as I had imagined it. Smooth, perfectly firm and proportioned, just right for me to stroke and caress.

I closed the pictures and followed the thread, There were the normal "nice ass" and "show us more" and "great pics" comments.

The last posting on the thread was about 10 minutes ago, another picture. I opened it; my hand shaking on the mouse. It was a picture of her with her hands across her breasts but her fingers apart enough to show an erect nipple.

I leant back in my chair trying to take in the last few hours. Seeing a random "bum" on a train, my imagination going into overdrive and now seeing the pictures on the internet.

Madness took over and I responded to the thread.

"Love the pictures, especially your bum."

I sat down and took a deep breath.

The screen refreshed and there was another posting: "Glad you like them, would you like to see more?"

We were talking!

"Yes, please. I think I am in love with your bum!"

"LOL OK, let me see what I have."

I went to refill my glass of wine and as I returned I was pleased to see another posting. She had attached another picture.

I opened it. My screen was filled with a full picture of her bum with her hands resting on her cheeks.

There was then another post.

"You like?"

I answered. "Oh yes!"

There was another post. "PM me and we can chat offline but not tonite as I need to get some sleep."

I hesitated but knew I had to do something, so I PM'd her:

"Hi I love your pics and would love to chat and see more, I look forward to chatting. Tomorrow?" I gave her my Yahoo and MSN account details.

Then, nothing.

I reopened her pictures and arranged them over the screen. I was aware that as I studied the pictures blood flowed to my nether regions and I started to get an erection. Wearing only a nightgown I started to stroke my ever hardening prick as I looked at the pictures on my screen. A few hours ago I saw a beautifully proportioned bum enclosed in tight fitting jeans and now I saw that uncovered and exposed in the internet. I was now fully hard and I was moving my foreskin back and forwards over the helmet of my hard prick. I knew I wouldn't last long; nobody can play with a prick better than its owner. I was stroking harder and faster with my eyes glued on the picture of loveliness on my PC screen. I was close, I was about to cum. I cupped my left hand as I stroked my hard prick with my right and caught my cum as I spurted and spurted.

I finished and relaxed. My left hand was full of cum as I regained my composure looking at the pictures on my PC.

After cleaning myself up, I turned the PC off and went to bed, significantly more relaxed than an hour or so previously.

Waking 6 hours or so later I quickly shaved, showered and dressed before heading to the station. I had a plan. I wanted to see "my vision" again. I didn't want to make it obvious but I just knew I had to. Was I turning into a stalker?

I parked my car in the normal place and, as luck would have it, saw the Ka coming into the station. I pretended to ignore it and slowly walked towards the station. Standing on the platform I nonchalantly glanced around until I saw the girl approach the stand with the free newspapers. Today she was wearing some black tailored trousers, a nice blue blouse with the top two or was it three buttons undone. I tried really hard not to stare, not to remember the pictures I had seen of her last night; the hint of a nipple, the bare bum; the relaxed smile. I could feel myself starting to get aroused. Down boy!

The train pulled into the station and the mindless commute continued. I was unable to get a seat but I was perfectly positioned to stand in the doorway and have an uninterrupted view of her. Her....I wondered what her name was. She looked like a Jenny. Why? I have no idea. But from now on she was "Jenny."

She must have a boy friend. Those pictures were not self shot; unless of course she had a tripod and posed herself? If she did have a boyfriend he was a very lucky man. Did he knowhow lucky? He must have. He must enjoy stroking her; Jenny. He must like caressing her bum. He must enjoy the reaction it gave her. She would murmur her appreciation as his hands roamed over her, occasionally letting his fingers explore her, gently touching her pussy, seeing how wet it was. Maybe just letting a digit circle her clitoris but in the main concentrating on stroking her bum. Would he be more bold and spread her cheeks to expose her rear hole? Would he let his fingers stroke here, maybe even make it wet and try and enter her? Would she like it? Would she encourage him? Or would Jenny say "No, that's out of bounds!"

I was on the way to getting hard which I tried to hide as I looked at her reading her newspaper, my thoughts now shifting to the "chat" we had last night and would hopefully have later. Would it be tonight?

Did she know that someone that had seen her and "spoken" to her on the internet was standing a few yards away? If she did, did she care?

The train stopped. I looked out of the dirty window and saw we where between stations. The driver made an announcement about a signal failure that was greeted by groans from the passengers. Jenny looked up and somehow looked straight at me. There was a vague look of recognition and half a smile. Clearly she wouldn't know it was me she "spoke" with last night, but did she recognise me from the underground last night, or was it just a polite smile from one commuter catching the eye of another?

The train moved and stopped again. "Bloody hell, it's going to be one of those journeys," the guy standing next to me said to nobody in particular. I nodded.

Jenny had finished reading her newspaper and was now rummaging in her bag and found her IPhone. Plugging in her earpieces she started playing with the phone. Was she looking at the website she was starring on I mused? Surely not on a public train!

What ever she was doing she must have enjoyed it as Jenny smiled. She started tapping keys. She must be emailing or texting. Her boyfriend?

Thankfully my budding erection had now died down and I could relax. I tried to take in more detail of Jenny. She had a pretty oval face with minimal makeup from what I could see. Blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair, straight with a hair-band holding it back. Did she have that yesterday; was she wearing one in her photos? No, she had a sort of centre parting yesterday and in the photos. The undone buttons of her blouse didn't give any hint of cleavage but from what I saw yesterday on the train and in her pictures, she was probably a 34. Slim, flat stomach and nice in proportion legs. Probably 5' 6" or so tall. Her bum, well I didn't need to think about that as the vision of it clad in jeans yesterday, in tailored trousers today and nude in the pictures was permanently etched on my brains hard drive!

The train started moving again and Jenny stopped typing and looked out of the window. She then looked around and I looked down trying to avert her gaze. I looked up and she was looking straight at me. Had I been caught?

She wasn't looking cross or accusingly at me. It wasn't one of those "What the fuck are you looking at" looks. It was almost quizzical. "Why do I know you?" type of look.

She looked away as I continued to try and be nonchalant, but probably failed miserably.

Eventually the train pulled into the London terminus and the hoards of commuters disembarked. Having been standing I was one of the first off so headed to the underground station knowing Jenny would be behind me and hoping she would catch me up.

If she did, I didn't see her as I was soon on the underground train and despite looking around and along the platform she was nowhere to be seen.

The day passed by in a whirl of boredom and office bullshit. I hoped beyond all hope that I would see Jenny on the way home, but it wasn't to be.

Once home I started to think how I would be able to chat with Jenny. After dinner I said I had some work to do, so went off to my home office and logged on to Literorica.

I opened my emails and there was one form "Jenny". "Hi its Jane, we chatted last night, fancy some IM tonight, about 10? Xx"

Did I? Was the Pope catholic?

At 10.00 I logged on again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

PLEASE DROP ME AN EMAIL WITH THOUGHTS OF HOW YOU THINK THIS MAY DEVELOP. WHILE I ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT FANTASY, I WOULD LIKE TO KEEP IT REALISTIC. AND LADIES, ANY PICTURES THAT YOU MAY HAVE TO HELP WITH THE STORY AND ENHANCE MY WRITING WOULD ALSO BE APPRECIATED..