Slow morning.
It's still a little rough, and it is absolutely silly, but anyway...
I think I will do a follow-up (you can guess what sort of follow up by this piece's finale) and then publish them both as an ebook.
But for the time being, this little piece of fluff is for you guys.
Enjoy!
“Hey, nice ass!”
Tracy skipped a beat and faltered and turned, but whoever had been, calling after her, was lost in the crowd of the early morning rush.
She blushed, and self-consciously ran her hands down her sides, straightening her skirt. A few people stared at her. At her backside. Her blush deepened.
She got moving again. She was already late for work.
She shook her head at the silliness of it all.
Being catcalled like that on the street!
#
In her cubicle, Tracy hung her jacket on the peg and sat down to put some order in the paper on her desk. The chair creaked gently.
She adjusted her position, shifting her ass on the cushion.
Was it really that remarkable, she asked herself?
It was not like she had ever given her ass much thinking, but the voice calling after her that morning kept sounding in her head. She moved on her chair and her chair creaked.
Silly, she thought.
#
Tracy took a break before lunch, and she went to the ladies.
She caught herself checking her ass out in the mirror.
It was OK, she thought.
No, really, it was better than that.
She straightened her back and she lifted herself up on the tip of her toes. It was rather nice, she admitted to herself.
She chuckled, and went back to her cubicle.
#
Tracy went down to the cafeteria.
Were guys checking out her butt?
She snorted. This was getting weird. She had never paid attention at such things. She had never been so body-conscious, and she had always considered women obsessed with their bodies, or parts thereof, to be superficial, and stupid.
But when she got to her table, and put her tray down before getting seated, she tried and bent at the waist.
Did she heard someone’s breath catching at the sight?
She smiled to herself as she sat down to eat.
#
“Hey, ginger, cigarette?”
Marika stepped into Tracy’s cubicle and leaned over her shoulder, gazing at the computer screen.
“What we have here,” the brunette asked. “You’re going lesbian and you didn’t tell me?”
Tracy blushed. “No, it’s just—” she flicked the scroll wheel of her mouse. “OK, I tried and Googled ‘nice ass’.”
“As one does,” Marika scoffed.
“It’s only—”
Tracy minimized her browser window and turned on her chair, and stood.
“Only?” Marika asked with an impish smile.
“OK, so this guy said I have a nice ass, this morning.”
“A guy.”
“I don’t know who. I was walking here from the train station, and—”
Marika arched an eyebrow. “And a guy you don’t know told you you have a nice ass.”
Tracy nodded. “Yes.”
Marika took a step aside and eyed Tracy’s butt, biting her lip. “Well, he was right I guess.”
“Mar!” Tracy gasped. “I mean, you think so?”
“Well, it’s nicely rounded,” Marika was eyeing Tracy’s ass critically. “Preyy up, muscular—”
She grabbed her ass and squeezed. Tracy gasped loudly.
“Rock solid, too,” Marika said with a grin.
Tracy shook her head. “You are—”
“About that cigarette?”
“I shouldn’t.”
The brunette grinned. “I’ll take it as a yes. Let’s go.”
They walked towards the fire exit. There was a small landing, on the staircase outside, where the employees were allowed to ignore the company’s no-smoking policy.
“You should compliment it more,” Marika said.
“What?”
“Your lovely butt. Put on a little heel, to give it a lift, you know—”
“Don’t be silly.”
They stepped out, and Marika pulled out her packet and the lighter. Tracy accepted the offered cigarette.
“All I’m saying,” Marika said, lighting up in turn, “is that if you have an asset, you should, you know—”
Tracy grinned. “An asset, uh?”
“And a pretty neat asset, too.”
#
The following morning, Tracy showered and then checked her ass in the full length mirror on her wardrobe door.
Marika was right, she reflected, squeezing her ass-cheek pensively. She had objectively a tight firm butt.
She cocked a hip, and then she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
She did have a pair of heels, she remembered.
She checked her alarm clock. She had plenty of time to dig those shoes out of wherever she had put them.
#
The heels forced her to walk differently. Like she was on tiptoes, and placing one foot precisely in front of the other. Her hips swung like a pendulum, and her nice ass with them.
She felt a little light-headed as she strode towards work.
She knew there were men, and a few women, staring at her ass, and it actually felt pretty good.
#
“Wow, ginger, nice shoes.”
Marika peeked in the cubicle.
“You like’em?” Tracy said, stretching her legs and crossing them.
“I’m sure they do wonders for your assets. Cigarette?”
Tracy checked her watch. “Already?”
“Why not?” The brunette gazed at the screen. “Asses again?”
“I was checking out a few exercises, you know—”
“To improve what’s already perfect?”
Tracy shrugged. “Let’s go and have that smoke. I need a cigarette.”
#
That night Tracy started doing squats and squat and pulse exercises, like she had found described in an old Cosmopolitan article online called “Tone Your Butt in No Time”. Her butt was already nicely toned, she agreed with Marika on that, but there was ample room for improvement. The following day she planned on buying a closed cells mattress to start doing also floor exercises, the bridge up and the bridge-up and leg stretch.
She did two series of one hundred.
It felt good. She wondered how long it would take to see some effect.
#
Tracy’s shopping tour the following morning took her to the mall. In a sporting goods store she bought a training mat and three sets of stretch exercise shorts and sports bra, black and fluorescent green. She bought a pair of running shoes, also in black. The idea of jogging struck her as fun. She also found a little handbook of exercises she could do at home, and she threw that in, too.
She caught a pair of high-heeled shoes in a shop window and went in to investigate. In the end she bought a four-inch heel pair, and a 4.5 too. She tried them on, walking up and down along the carpet under the eye of the shop assistant, and she checked the effect they had on her butt, and liked it.
High heels of course meant appropriate stockings. She found a lingerie shop and went for lacy-top hold-ups and a few pairs of pantyhose.
Her last stop was at a place that sold cheap knock offs of high fashion clothes, and after wading through an endless collection of stuff she did not really care about, came away with a nice pair of low-waist, ultra-skinny jeans, and two short stretch skirts that would be fabulous with the jackets she usually wore at work.
She went home humming gently, and that evening she took her first short jog around the block. The stretch exercise pants felt a wonder.
#
Tracy decided she would not sit on her chair anymore.
She felt a lot better resting with one knee on the seat, so that she could lean on her desk and lift her beautiful Lycra-wrapped ass up for all to see.
“Hey, ginger—”
“I’m coming,” Tracy said over her shoulder.
Marika patted her ass as she leaned forward to check her screen. “No butts today?”
Tracy grinned. “Mine’s more than enough.”
She picked a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her desktop. “Smoking break?” she said.
Marika arched her eyebrows. “This is new.”
Tracy stood, and shrugged. She ran her hands on her hips, to smooth her short stretch skirt. “I decided I’m a proper smoker,” she said. “A cigarette feels good after jogging. You coming?”
She started towards the fire doors, feeling Marika’s eyes on her ass.
#
The guy was in his sixties if he was a day, and he looked like a weathered old biker, down to the handlebar moustache and the grey hair in a pony.
“This one,” Tracy said, tapping the page on the catalog.
The guy checked the design. “Nice choice,” he said.
Tracy smiled at him.
She pulled down her skinny jeans and she laid belly down on the mat, offering him her amazing butt.
“On the right cheek,” she said.
The man was putting on surgical gloves.
He sketched the outline of what looked like the impression of two plump lips high on her ass cheek. She giggled at the touch of the pencil. Then he picked up his tattooing needle.
“This might hurt a little,” he said, pinching her ass.
She enjoyed the pinch.
“It’s OK,” she said. “A little pain is OK to improve my assets.”
The guy chuckled, and started drawing the lipstick kiss on her right ass cheek.
#
Tracy knocked gently on the frame of Marika’s cubicle.
“You busy?” she asked. She was carrying a bunch of papers.
Marika sighed and checked her watch.
“Bored more than busy,” she said. “Feel like a cigarette?”
Tracy hefted the sheaf of papers. “I’ve to deliver these to Personnel,” she said. “I’ll drop by when I get back. But in the meantime—”
She took an A4 sheet from the top of the pile and handed it to her friend. “I was at the copier, and I thought about you,” she said with an impish smile.
Marika took the paper and stared at it, her eyes goggling.
“What the hell—?” she chuckled. “But you are a slut!”
Tracy shrugged. “You seem to like it,” she said. “And I’m sure I’m not the first one to sit on the photocopier.”
“I love the lace pattern,” Marika said,laughing.
“Don’t you, now?” Tracy turned to go. “I’ll be back in a moment, so we can have a cigarette.”
#
Tracy was propped on her elbows, one knee on the chair and her wonderful butt up in the hair, the black skirt stretched over the muscular ass-cheeks and three inches of white thigh visible between the edge of the skirt and the top of the stockings. There was a hint of lacy pants. She was browsing a document online, and gently rolling her hips.
Marika came up silently behind her and placed a small briar root box on the desktop by her side.
“Happy birthday,” she said, patting Tracy’s ass.
Tracy turned to her.
“It’s not my birthday,” she said.
Marika shrugged. “I felt like bringing you a little thing anyway.”
Tracy picked up the box and shook her head. “You shouldn’t—”
She opened the box and her lips formed a perfect O.
On the red velvet lining rested a large acorn-shaped silver butt plug, with a large Swarowski crystal finishing.
“This is—” Tracy said, momentarily breathless.
“I thought you might like it.”
“It’s absolutely beautiful,” Tracy sighed. She squeezed her legs together. She looked Marika in the eye. “Let’s go to the ladies, I want to try it straight away!”
#
Tracy was doing her three miles jog the following evening, enjoying the attention her muscular backside was attracting from the other runners.
She caught sight of a young black-haired woman coming from the opposite direction, wearing a one-piece running suit in blue and fluo yellow, her hair tied in a ponytail. Focused expression on her strong face. Legs pumping rhythmically, a hint of a cameltoe, breasts swinging softly.
Tracy leered as the woman drew closer.
They passed each other.
“Nice tits!” Tracy said, loud, and then she continued on her course.
The other woman missed a step, faltered, and turned around, trying to find whoever had said that, but Tracy was gone, faded in the dusk.
The woman self-consciously caressed her breast.
This was a nice little quickie! The next one should be fun as well.
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