Started feeling this way about one of my office coworkers lately. We've been on friendly terms with each other for a while, she's cute and laughs to stupid shit I say, but that's as far as we go.
For context, she's somewhat short, about 5'-3", long black hair that she keeps in a low-knot ponytail most of the time. Mildly chubby figure, but not overly weighty, decent chest and some minor flab on her belly, but a whole lotta dumptruck parked over her shaped legs.
Glasses, cute lil' mole on the cheek, fair skin, already had a kid - she's like that cute nerdy girl from college that went on to become a shortstack MILF.
Anyways, a couple days ago I was walking past a cabinet where she was peeking into some drawers for papers and stuff. We say hi to each other and she asks me to help putting some boxes back into an office while she combs the file, which I gladly do. Just as I'm coming back to say done however, I'm flashed with a sight that warped how I viewed her since.
So she's still parsing through the cabinet, only she's moved to the bottom drawer, and wouldn't you know, she's squatting almost all the way. I must be the sneakiest MF this side of Solid goddamn Snake, because she didn't seem to hear my steps or notice that I was standing about ten feet behind for that matter.
Now, I'm not blind, I've noticed her bubble butt since day one, but I try (or tried) not to stare out of politeness; but the way she was ducking really exerted her pants, by which I mean, her jeans slipped down from her waist.
Not only that, but it dragged her underwear down as well, leaving her crack and cheeks bare before my very eyes.
Now, we were the only two in that part of the office at the time, and she probably didn't notice the deed at first. She just kept digging through that file for some moments, while I stared unbelieving, watching her trunk wobble and slip peeks of her crack as she kept her balance. It was the longest five seconds or so while her cheeks danced to my eyes.
I snapped out of it and slipped back from where I came, then called out to ask if those boxes were all and walked back in as if I had just arrived. I arrive just in time for her to pull up her pants, already turned to face my way this time, and thank me. I try my best to keep my face and tone straight and make my way to wash the red off in the nearest bathroom. Couldn't stop thinking about it one moment, how jiggly it was, how surreal it felt, and how conflicted I felt later about wanting to bury my face in that petite Grand Cannyon.
Since then my head bubbles cycle between wanting to plant my face in her peach, to getting shoved up all the way in that flab-flanked dark hole, to taking a dive down her gullet and get liquified to padding for that glorious booty. Can't say that I haven't started stealing glances here and there, nor that I haven't paid extra attention when she's sitting a few seats over at lunch break, fantasizing about riding her fork and spending the rest of the shift getting sloshed with lunch in that doughy little tum of hers.