Well, that was a freebie. (Accidental exposure)
Posted: Wed Feb 28, 2024 8:56 am
Holy Moley. Well, here’s a thing that happened, hot off the press from today.
I’ll paint the picture as vividly as I can. I was at work - a sweltering hot day in the barely air-conditioned warehouse of a small business. I have an incredibly cute work colleague, who I’m going to call Gemma here. To help put yourself in my shoes and mindset as much as possible, I’ll just say that she is 100% my definition of attractive, and let you fill in the details of her appearance with your own definition of attractive. I’d also describe her personality as bubbly. Do with that information what you will.
Today, Gemma was wearing teal yoga pants and a grey and purple sports bra, under a pastel pink tie-dye singlet. The reason I know the details of her sports bra is because the singlet was one of those ones with oversized arm-holes, making the bra at least partially visible at all times. Like a loose-fitting shirt without sleeves. Is it called a sports singlet? There’s probably an obvious name for this garment that I’m blanking on. I’m not sure, and come to think of it, it’s irrelevant to what happened, so let’s all move on from this detail.
So it was just Gemma and I in the warehouse at this point in time, with the other two employees in the connected office. Gemma had just brought in a heavy stack of our business’ branded flat-packed shipping boxes from outside where they had just been delivered. She brought up an anecdote I had shared the previous day, and proceeded to ask me a question following up on it. As she asked the question, she placed the stack of flat-packed boxes on the floor, and then, in reaction to the sticky heat, absent-mindedly hooked her thumbs deep into the waistband of her yoga pants (and underwear!) - and stretched them out away from her body, leaning forward a little in the process... this absolute perfect storm giving me an approximately 1-2 second unobstructed view all the way down to the beginning of the crease of her vulval cleft! I could see her pubic hair had been manicured and shaped recently, a decent tuft, but definitely curated with some waxed or shaven bare skin flanking either side. The pubes had become a little flattened from the tight sportswear she was wearing, aided by a little perspiration. And despite it only being presented for 1-2 seconds, it was somehow enough time for every aspect I have just described to become burned into my brain with stunning clarity. I love how the human brain and memory works overtime in important moments.
She did this “waistband stretch” just as she was finishing up what she was saying, and the ramifications of the unconscious manoeuvre seemed only to cross her mind after she had released the waistband back into place and I had started talking. I had already formed a response to what she was asking halfway through her question (before she exposed herself), so when she finished speaking, I was remarkably able to respond without missing a beat, like I hadn’t just seen my cute workmate’s privates. I sensed a shimmering panic behind her eyes for a few moments immediately following the action, and I’m not sure if the rosiness of her flushed cheeks had been there since she came in with the boxes or not... But the conversation wrapped up pretty quickly after that, whereupon she and I went back to our own separate busywork.
The busywork I returned to was kind of a haze though. I had been pretty thrilled when the warmer season had rolled around and Gemma had started wearing yoga pants to work. I hadn’t in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever end up seeing her privates! But somehow, today, that’s exactly what happened; with zero warning, buildup or fanfare, there they were.
Jump to about an hour later, and I had retreated to a back room of the warehouse to find some more shipping labels, when Gemma appeared in the doorway. She was smiling, but there was something a little off about the smile, and could very well have been that she was trying to keep a brave face about what she was about to say.
“Hey,” She said, scrunching her nose a little and sliding into almost a whisper, “Suss question, but did I accidentally flash you before?”.
I looked up and furrow my brow in confusion, with just the hint of a smirk, as if the idea were absurd.
Now, here’s where I’m fighting the creative writer inside me... If this was a fictional story, I’d tell you I replied with “I think I’d remember something like that!” Which would technically not be a lie, and would double as a cute ending to the story. But in reality, in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about crafting an anecdote. I was panicked as all hell about saying the wrong thing, thinking about not wanting my wonderful workmate to be embarrassed and uncomfortable around me for all eternity.
So all I actually said was “No? When was this?”
“Oh, Earlier,” she said, “I just remembered that I was fussing around with my pants a lot because of the heat and had this thought that I might have flashed you.”
“Oh!” I said and laughed, “Nope!”
Again, it would have probably been much more fun for you all if I’d have stretched the truth in this retelling, made things more juicy. But there’s something about the fact that this is an actual life event fresh in my mind from today... To me personally, adding things that didn’t happen or changing how things played out would cheapen it.
It occurs to me now that I’ve written this out, that Gemma had obviously been embarrassed about it and had a whole internal struggle going on about whether to bring it up with me or not. She must’ve been thinking about it, perhaps psyching herself up to ask me, for around an hour before she finally bit the bullet. I don’t think I’d have the nerve required to bring it up an hour later, and would rather just try and put as much time between that moment and now, as possible. She didn’t have to ask me, but it seems the possibility was eating away at her so much, she eventually decided that she had to know - embarrassment be damned.
I’ll paint the picture as vividly as I can. I was at work - a sweltering hot day in the barely air-conditioned warehouse of a small business. I have an incredibly cute work colleague, who I’m going to call Gemma here. To help put yourself in my shoes and mindset as much as possible, I’ll just say that she is 100% my definition of attractive, and let you fill in the details of her appearance with your own definition of attractive. I’d also describe her personality as bubbly. Do with that information what you will.
Today, Gemma was wearing teal yoga pants and a grey and purple sports bra, under a pastel pink tie-dye singlet. The reason I know the details of her sports bra is because the singlet was one of those ones with oversized arm-holes, making the bra at least partially visible at all times. Like a loose-fitting shirt without sleeves. Is it called a sports singlet? There’s probably an obvious name for this garment that I’m blanking on. I’m not sure, and come to think of it, it’s irrelevant to what happened, so let’s all move on from this detail.
So it was just Gemma and I in the warehouse at this point in time, with the other two employees in the connected office. Gemma had just brought in a heavy stack of our business’ branded flat-packed shipping boxes from outside where they had just been delivered. She brought up an anecdote I had shared the previous day, and proceeded to ask me a question following up on it. As she asked the question, she placed the stack of flat-packed boxes on the floor, and then, in reaction to the sticky heat, absent-mindedly hooked her thumbs deep into the waistband of her yoga pants (and underwear!) - and stretched them out away from her body, leaning forward a little in the process... this absolute perfect storm giving me an approximately 1-2 second unobstructed view all the way down to the beginning of the crease of her vulval cleft! I could see her pubic hair had been manicured and shaped recently, a decent tuft, but definitely curated with some waxed or shaven bare skin flanking either side. The pubes had become a little flattened from the tight sportswear she was wearing, aided by a little perspiration. And despite it only being presented for 1-2 seconds, it was somehow enough time for every aspect I have just described to become burned into my brain with stunning clarity. I love how the human brain and memory works overtime in important moments.
She did this “waistband stretch” just as she was finishing up what she was saying, and the ramifications of the unconscious manoeuvre seemed only to cross her mind after she had released the waistband back into place and I had started talking. I had already formed a response to what she was asking halfway through her question (before she exposed herself), so when she finished speaking, I was remarkably able to respond without missing a beat, like I hadn’t just seen my cute workmate’s privates. I sensed a shimmering panic behind her eyes for a few moments immediately following the action, and I’m not sure if the rosiness of her flushed cheeks had been there since she came in with the boxes or not... But the conversation wrapped up pretty quickly after that, whereupon she and I went back to our own separate busywork.
The busywork I returned to was kind of a haze though. I had been pretty thrilled when the warmer season had rolled around and Gemma had started wearing yoga pants to work. I hadn’t in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever end up seeing her privates! But somehow, today, that’s exactly what happened; with zero warning, buildup or fanfare, there they were.
Jump to about an hour later, and I had retreated to a back room of the warehouse to find some more shipping labels, when Gemma appeared in the doorway. She was smiling, but there was something a little off about the smile, and could very well have been that she was trying to keep a brave face about what she was about to say.
“Hey,” She said, scrunching her nose a little and sliding into almost a whisper, “Suss question, but did I accidentally flash you before?”.
I looked up and furrow my brow in confusion, with just the hint of a smirk, as if the idea were absurd.
Now, here’s where I’m fighting the creative writer inside me... If this was a fictional story, I’d tell you I replied with “I think I’d remember something like that!” Which would technically not be a lie, and would double as a cute ending to the story. But in reality, in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about crafting an anecdote. I was panicked as all hell about saying the wrong thing, thinking about not wanting my wonderful workmate to be embarrassed and uncomfortable around me for all eternity.
So all I actually said was “No? When was this?”
“Oh, Earlier,” she said, “I just remembered that I was fussing around with my pants a lot because of the heat and had this thought that I might have flashed you.”
“Oh!” I said and laughed, “Nope!”
Again, it would have probably been much more fun for you all if I’d have stretched the truth in this retelling, made things more juicy. But there’s something about the fact that this is an actual life event fresh in my mind from today... To me personally, adding things that didn’t happen or changing how things played out would cheapen it.
It occurs to me now that I’ve written this out, that Gemma had obviously been embarrassed about it and had a whole internal struggle going on about whether to bring it up with me or not. She must’ve been thinking about it, perhaps psyching herself up to ask me, for around an hour before she finally bit the bullet. I don’t think I’d have the nerve required to bring it up an hour later, and would rather just try and put as much time between that moment and now, as possible. She didn’t have to ask me, but it seems the possibility was eating away at her so much, she eventually decided that she had to know - embarrassment be damned.
