OUR JOHN:

There were a few things that John Lincoln was devoted to. They were things that he spent his time on, both mental time and actual, daily time. They were the things that he cultivated, that appealed to him. There was, of course, his pal Rufus, the 'world's greatest dog', to hear John talk about him. Rufus was mostly a lab, probably with other back alley breeds mixed in somewhere. He was perpetually up-beat and a kind of 'happy go lucky' companion. He was always totally pleased to see John, when he came home. Rufus also made himself at home, taking up almost half of the big king sized bed that they shared.

Next there was the stately old Victorian where John and Rufus lived. John was in the slow but sure process of rehabbing the Victorian. He was, as well as being a professional, really handy around the house. He had been taught at an early age by both his two uncles and his dad, all gone now, to be self-sufficient. They had all been in the building trades and taught 'Johnnie' all there was to know about them. As a result, there were no jobs, from dry-walling to door and window framing that 'Johnnie' wasn't up to doing himself. He was in that process with the Victorian, which had indeed been a gift to him from the family. They'd given it to him with the express idea that he'd work on it to make it his own. In the meantime, years of working with the law firm, where he'd become, over the years, a partner, had kept him from the house. But finally, at the age of 40, John was determined to get on with his desire to work on the house.

He'd also become, at that time, a judge in one of the municipal courts. He was highly regarded enough, that he gone to a higher court in time and was generally well thought of in the local legal community, as well as the community at large.

Over the years, there had been tasks, his attention to his legal work, taking care of various family members, as they went into their several declines. 'Johnnie' had never, ever complained about those demands on his time and energy. Doing those kinds of chores was always a priority with him. It was, for him, a matter of giving back the blessings that he'd received at their hands.

There had always been women, dates, acquaintances but they never seemed to get the amount of attention from John that such things would routinely need to make them important. He'd had his share of affairs but, from his way of thinking, he'd never found what he called 'a keeper'. He talked to Rufus about that periodically but was usually fairly sanguine about it, telling Rufus: "I know, pal, that the time is coming for me; I just know it." In addition, John was just shy enough to make women, for him, a chore.

It was an outlook that served to give him at least some peace with the issue.

In addition to Rufus and rehabbing, John was, from early on interested in birds. His uncle Hal had been a bird watcher and had taken 'Johnnie' on many trips to various places to inspect the local bird population. John kept a semi-active interest in it on his own. He was certainly serious about his bird feeders, and bird houses. It was an interest that was always there, and it was ever a source of pleasure for him to know exactly what kinds of birds he saw around at any given time and place.

But, of course, that wasn't all. There was that part of John that was simply an old fashioned male pleasure. This was an issue that was for himself. He was a devoted observer of female fannies! It was usually a cause for self-smiling with him. But he loved looking at women's butts.

There had been times that his 'callipygous' interests were better compensations than others.

He recalled, and often enough thought about and smiled about the time, when he went to Vienna to school for a semester or so. He was young then and what he found in Vienna seared him to his very bones.

He recalled vividly the first time he encountered this latest Viennese fashion. It was the wearing, by ladies of all ages, and really, shapes and sizes, of fairly transparent dresses. This fashion, at the time, was enhanced by the fact that beneath the dresses, made of a kind of crinkly material but still fully transparent, the women wore no slips at all but only underwear.

There, for 'Johnnie's pleasure', were all sorts of women on display, showing the world, but especially him, their panties and panty covered butts.

John always remembered this with a smile and a short laugh. He remembered that it affected him sufficiently that, he said: "I just had to sit down!"

During that time, in Vienna, John spent a lot of time just sitting, and sipping coffee and watching. Watching the wiggling fannies of the women in Vienna. It was one of his fondest memories.

(It also gave the lie, of course, to the idea that John Lincoln was nothing but a stogy older barrister!)

He came home from the trip with fond memories and not a few slyly taken photos to remind him of the times and the mode of dress in the Vienna of those days.

His return home from that Vienna scene made his adventures in watching women's 'booties' even more active. There were recurrent interests in miniskirts, that came and went with fashion, that pleased him no end.

So that, for a good long time, John was as enchanted by women's fashions at home as he had been in Vienna.

He loved viewing at times long legs coming out from beneath the brightly colored, short skirts. It was a constant source of visual pleasure for him.

It produced a veritable mental poster board of sights that were remembered and filed mentally, as he continued to be a 'watcher': women bending over and showing their panty covered butt cheeks; women sitting and showing panty gussets with, now and then, a sprinkling of sightings of some darker hair, against the lighter fabric of the panties.

These were John's fond, fond memories. It was with a sigh for great memories that John watched the fashions change, with ever new recurrences of the shorter skirt craze.

He realized that there were always pleasures abounding for a 'bottom' man, as he designated himself.

Oh, it was true that he really liked to see a totally well-formed woman, with pleasing breasts and a nice butt. But, for himself, he was always aware of the fact that he looked at the butts first.

He also developed the theory, only ever whispered to himself, to prevent all sorts of trouble: 'that you should never completely trust a woman with a skinny ass'. He never, ever thought of it without a satisfying chuckle. But he always tempered that remark with the further remark 'that he never saw a woman's butt that he didn't like.'

He added to his list of pleasures and things to which he was devoted his love of running. It was also, for him, a kind of a result of the various 'wake up' calls that he'd had based on the cardiac problems that were shared by his uncles and his dad.

He began his 'running career', while at the university. He ran cross country and was a 'miler' with the track team, lettering in both is junior and senior years. He kept up his devotion to long distance running, after he got his law degree and established himself with a law firm, selecting for himself, as a main concentration, criminal law, which eventually led him to his present position on the court.

He still made sure that he got out on a regular schedule to do his running.

John was certainly of an equitable temper in his noticing the way that fashions changed. He never expected the full blown mini skirt craze to reappear, as it had been back a while ago.

'Being around then, ' he thought, 'would have been a treat!' He was fine with that. He had some grand memories with it.

Nor did he ever suspect for a moment that the Viennese craze for women to wear transparent dresses would assert itself among women in the U.S. He was fine with that too.

But he was hardly ready for the new fashion craze that came along, just as he'd reached the bench. He noticed it right away on the trails, where he did his running. Women were beginning to wear black, stretch pants. They were absolutely butt clinging fashions, and they brought out, in a very happy and visual way, the old 'Johnnie' of his Vienna days.

It just seemed that everywhere he went, the running trail, the grocery store or just shopping, he was invited to view the wiggling posteriors of various women, women of all ages and sizes, as they were contained in those absolutely tight, absolutely wonderful, absolutely gorgeous tight, black, stretch pants.

He chuckled to himself these days that women were wearing as outer clothing what in his day would have only been underwear.

John Lincoln was certainly having visual fun with it all. It made even simply tasks, like going to the grocery store, a fabulous treat. And on the running paths, the sights were downright breathtaking.

So, John Lincoln made his way. He'd set his professional goals and lived up to them. He loved being a judge and was a good one, with a very good reputation. He kept rehabbing his Victorian, spent time with Rufus and kept his visual delights strictly to himself. He was, in a manner of speaking, a totally normal 40 year old man.

TO THE RESCUE:

He was at the trail for his run fairly early on a May Saturday. He did his stretches and his prelims and started his run. He'd be out today for about 5 to 10 miles, depending on his frame of mind.

But John Lincoln was about to have an encounter, a life changing kind of encounter that he wasn't, of course, counting on.

He rounded a bend, after running about a mile and three quarters and was faced with a scene that both slowed him down and delighted him.

There were two women in the path ahead. They were both bending at the waist, and both were wearing those black, stretch running pants.

With them bending there, John could make out every feature of their black, lycra covered butts. It was enough to make him hitch his breath.

The one on the right, who seemed to be talking to the other, on the left, had a fairly nice fanny but the one on the left was heart shaped, both gorgeous and really, really sexy. At least that's what John thought.

These thoughts were pushed right out of his head, when he realized that the lady on the left was obviously in pain. He, when he got closer, could hear her sobbing.

He stopped where they were and asked if everything was alright.

"Oh, she turned her ankle," the one on the right said, of her companion. "She's in some pain."

"Let me see," he said and knelt to the other woman.

Only then did he get a view of her green eyes, that were highlighted by her almost carrot red hair. He was stuck by her beauty and simply worked to push that into the background to think about later, along with thoughts about her wonderful fanny.

"I'm John," he said, and they told him that the one on the right was Sheila and the injured woman was Carol. They were friends apparently and this was their normal running time and place. They further said that it was Shiela Kerns and Carol Wagner.

John knelt, after telling them his full name and gently felt Carol's ankle. He could find no sigh at all of a breakage but thought that it was sprained.

"Here," he said, "Let me do this."

John always ran with a pack that continued his 'necessaries', as he called them. Among the trail food and drinks that he habitually took with him, was a first aid kit. He took from the kit a good sturdy bandage that he proceeded to wrap around her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Oh that feels so much better," she said, once the foot was wrapped.

"Good," he said. "Why don't you see if you can put any weight on it?"

She stepped forward gingerly, with him holding her by the elbow and realized right away that she wasn't able to put weight on it.

"Okay," he said, "We'll do this the old fashioned way. I assume that it was your car that was in the trail head car park."

"Yes," Sheila said, saying that she'd driven that morning.

John turned around, as Carol balanced on her good food and indicated that Carol should get onto his back.

"Your back?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "The best way."

"I'll crush you!" Carol protested.

"Don't think so," was his reply and both he and Sheila cajoled Carol into leaning against John's back and putting her arms around his neck.

He then, with little effort, raised himself up, and held her at the knees, with her legs dangling. She put her head against his back and shoulders and couldn't resist a giggle.

"You'll really get your workout today!" she said.

"Well," he replied, "I was going to run about ten miles today, so this might make up some of that distance."

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Carol asked, once they were about half way back to the car.

"Fine!" he said. "The virtuous never get tired!" he quipped and it made both Sheila and Carol giggle.

"Goody for us," Carol said. "Finding a virtuous man!"

"Yes, goody!" Sheila chimed in with.

John was struck, during his portage of Carol, of how great it felt to have her pressed up against his back. He could feel the pressure of her breasts against his back and only smiled to himself.

As they neared the car park, they heard a dog barking and making a ruckus.

"That's my body guard," John said, "Rufus."

"Oh," Carol said, seeing the large dog's head by the car window.

"Sometimes I let him run with me and sometimes, when I'm on a longer run, like today, he gets to guard the car," John explained.

He got them to their car and then let Rufus out to greet them. In the process, Rufus made a good attempt at 'wagging them to death'. Both Sheila and Carol, who was sitting now in the front seat with the car door open, were taken with Rufus.

"I'm going to leave you now," John said to the two women.

"Oh, wait," Carol pleaded. Then she wouldn't let him go without some information, saying that she fully planned to 'thank him' soon.

John, for his part, was pleased with her intention to contact him again. He never for a moment forgot the way that she felt, as he carried her with her breasts pushing against his back, and that initial view of her butt in those running pants was still fueling his fires.

"What are you going to do now?" Carol asked.

"I'm going to do five miles instead of ten," he said, "And I'll take my pal with me."

Sheila gave him a peck on the cheek to say 'thank you' but Carol insisted on a complete hug. She leaned against him and kissed his cheek, barely keeping herself from actually kissing him, in the process.

He knew that and grinned at her, when the hug was completed.

His personal view of the hug and the way she felt, plastered against him, only served to add to his thoughts about the way her fanny looked, as he first came on them with the two of them bending over, and the vision of her eyes and reddish hair.

He mentioned all of those things to Rufus, as the two of them went onto the trail to complete his morning run.

John had a companionable talk with Rufus, as he usually did, once they'd finished their run and each had had a snack that John had packed for them.

"She was spectacular, Rufe," he said. The dog woofed, when he heard the name.

"Yes, I agree," John said, with a chuckle. "And she said that she was going to thank me personally. How about that? She wasn't wearing a ring either, pal."

Rufus woofed again and then had more water, since the run had been long.

After John and Rufus left, on their run, Sheila and Carol sat and talked a bit.

"You know," Sheila said, "Who I think that is?"

"Who?" Carol asked, just sitting and watching his retreating back and the big dog running with him.

"I think that's Judge Lincoln, Judge John Lincoln," Sheila said.

"I think he's cute!" Carol said and they both giggled.

"Well met indeed!" Sheila said, grinning at Carol, who shared the grin. "Didn't see a wedding ring either!" Sheila continued and they both went into a spate of giggles again.

A PROPER THANK YOU:

John tried to push it out of his mind but didn't succeed very well. He wondered, during the whole of the next week, if the lovely woman, that Carol, was indeed going to contact him.

He periodically prodded himself to calm down and not put so much stock in that happening. He knew himself well enough to suspect that, if she were to come around, he'd likely get to be the 'tongue tied John' of his earlier youth.

"John boy," he said to himself, "Just let it go. She was lovely but it's been a while."

He simply, during the whole of the next week, plunged into work again and tried, often in vain, to push it out of his mind.

It was a Thursday, when his secretary buzzed him to announce that a Ms Carol Wagner was there to see him.

"Ms Wagner?" he asked with pleasure, "Send her in, Judy, and thank you. Please keep my stuff for a bit."

"Yes, sir," Judy said.

"You're so polite," he quipped to her.

"Rufus told me to be nice to you," Judy countered and they both shared a laugh.

He rose from his desk and was in the middle of his office, when Judy opened the door to let Carol Wagner in.

John stood then. He had the same kind of feeling that he remembered having, when he saw the two of them bending over, wearing those black, lycra running pants. He was stunned.

Carol, that day, was wearing a green pleated skirt, a kind of tartan, and a green sweater, plus green heels.

John was simply staring.

"Mr Lincoln?" Carol finally said.

"Sorry, Ms Wagner," John finally managed, when he came out of his stunned silence, produced by the beauty of the woman who'd just come into his office.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "I was wondering if I'd have to take care of you now."

He chuckled and said: "Truth: I was stunned by your beauty!"

She put her hand over her mouth then and giggled.

"You say such nice things!" she said, "And you positively saved me on that trail."

"But please sit," he said. "How is your ankle?"

"Getting better and your help was both timely and appreciated," she said next.

"Do you have a bit of time?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "I'm off work today but I'm taking a lot of your time."

"Not at all," he said, "It's my pleasure. I'd certainly like to get to know you better."

John found himself unaccountably in a situation that he was not really prepared well for. He'd wanted, all week, for this lovely woman to come back and now he found himself fairly tongue tied, he might even say 'as usual'. He tried to make some small talk with her but kept kind of falling over his own feet.

Finally, he tried to just own up to it, saying: "Ms Wagner..."

"Please," she said, "It's Carol but I interrupted."

"Yes," he went on, "Carol, I apologize for being so adolescent here!"

She giggled behind her hand then.

"I am pretty much stunned," he said next, "by the total physical loveliness of you, legs, breasts, face, hair, eyes and gorgeous butt."

He reddened then and said: "Oh, dear, did I really say that!"

She giggled again and shook her head 'yes' to affirm that he had indeed said it.

"I assure you," he said, trying for some dignity and grinning through it now, "That I'm not always this outrageous. You've simply got me in knots!"

"Good for me!" was her reply. "But I don't want to take much of your time today. I simply came in to thank you personally!"

"You are quite welcome," he said, walking her now to the door but with his instincts positively yelling at him to get some information from her.

He was still tied up in knots about it and was pretty much ready to kick himself, when she turned to him by the door and, pulling out a felt tipped pen, wrote on his hand.

"My number," she said, grinning at him and leaning in to kiss him quickly, concluding her visit with a giggle and saying: "You're so cute!"

Then she left.

"Way to go, John!" he said to himself. "Perfection at your door and you act like the village idiot!"

Then he had a sudden inspiration. He pulled out his cell and called the number. She answered right away.

"Ms Wagner," he said.

"Yes," she answered.

"This is Judge John Lincoln!" he went on.

"Oh, nice to hear from you, Judge Lincoln!" she said, going along with his intentions. "It's been such a long time, since we've talked." She giggled, when she said that and he chuckled.

"I ... uh ... I'd like to invite you to dinner!" he said, "Would that be possible?"

"I'd love it, John," she said. "What is the dress code?"

Without even thinking, John said: "Your tight black running pants!"

She giggled even louder as he began to apologize; realizing that he'd not only thought it but had actually said it to her.

"Don't you apologize, big boy," she said. "Trouble you want and its trouble you'll get. Tight black running pants. So, semi-casual?"

"Yes," he said softly.

"Judge, I know what you're thinking!" she said, "Just hold those thoughts!"

"This boy's in trouble!" he said.

"Glad you realize it, sweetie; but I'll take such good care of you," she managed with another giggle.

The arrangements were made for dinner the following evening. He promised to pick her up, with her telling him where he could do that.

As soon as he got off the phone with her, he just shook his head, realizing what he'd said, and what it had revealed but it actually left him smiling.

PHONE CALLS AND HELP:

He reached for the phone and called his sister Ruthie. She was a lawyer for a different law firm. For a long while John and Ruthie had contentedly lived together, as he worked at the rehabbing of the Victorian, until she moved out to live with her boyfriend, Pete, about six months previously.

"Hello!" Ruthie said into the phone.

"Ruthie, its John; do you have any time? I need to talk about something," he said.

She knew her brother well and could tell from the tone of his voice that something was awry with him.

"Sweetie," she said, "I have a light day here; how about if I come over to your office for a cup of coffee and a talk then?"

"Oh, thanks," he said.

"Right there," she said, ringing off.

She was as good as her word. His secretary announced Ruthie and showed her right into John's office. They met inside the office door and shared a hug immediately.

He leaned back then and looked at her. She was dressed in a gray suite that was fashionably tight across the butt.

"You look radiant!" he said.

She smiled at him and said, with a little laugh: "It's all the sex!"

(Ruth loved to tease her fairly straight laced and somewhat shy brother. She enjoyed watching him blush at times, which he did just then.)

"You haven't changed a bit in these six months," he said with a smile, his color returning.

"Grand isn't it?" she ventured. "Moving in with Pete was the best thing that I ever did. You should try it, little brother."

"Don't think I want to move in with Pete," he said, grinning and then: "That's what I want to talk to you about," he said.

They sat, after his secretary brought in cappuccinos for them.

"Tell me," she said, getting serious now and reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"I've met someone!" he said, visibly distressed.

She clapped her hands and put her hands up to her mouth in glee at this news.

"Oh, tell me, tell me!" she said.

He described the scene on the running trail, with the two women bent over, and wearing those tight black running pants.

"Yes," she said with a gleam in her eye, "You always were attracted to a woman with a lovely butt!"

"Yes," he admitted, coloring up again.

"Like me!" she said and giggled, causing him to blush furiously. "Okay," she said then, "I'll behave. I know this is serious and then she leaned forward and kissed him lightly. Talk to me, John."

He went over it with her then. He'd already talked about the black running pants and her lovely butt, which he mentioned again, getting a grin from Ruthie at that. He went on then to describe her eyes and hair and how lovely she was.

"Who is she?" Ruthie asked, "Do you know?"

Then he went on with the story to describe her visiting him today to say a 'thank you'. He mentioned how she was dressed and how great she looked.

"Too bad," Ruthie said, "Skirt day, no tight black pants."

"Oh, that's the thing," he said, and Ruthie waited. "When she asked, when I called her, immediately after she'd left and written her number on my hand, what she should wear, without even thinking I said the black running pants!"

Ruthie hooted.

"The judge unmasked at last!" she said in triumph. Even he grinned then.

"I guess!" he said.

"What do I do?" he asked, plaintively.

"Well, it seems that you've gotten yourself involved here with a woman who shows real class. My advice is just pick her up and let it develop the way that it will."

"I hope that I can do that!" he said.

"I know you can," was her response.

"Oh, honey," he said, "You're so good for me. I don't know why I'm so backward about such things."

"You just haven't met the right woman to bring you out!" she said.

"I hope you're right," he said.

"I know that I am," she answered.

They stood then and shared a hug.

"Thanks, love for taking such good care of me," he said.

They were in the doorway then, and sharing a last hug, with Ruthie giving John a kiss, when out in the outer office, from where they could be seen, John saw Carol Wagner standing. She was wide eyed to see John being kissed.

John colored again and then, finding the courage of desperation, said: "Um, Ruthie, this is Carol Wagner; Carol this is my sister Ruthie."

Both Ruthie and Carol grinned and, without a word, Carol went to Ruthie and they were hugging.

"Lovely to meet you, Carol," Ruthie said. "But I have to run. Take good care of my baby brother!"

Carol grinned and said: "I intend to."

"He needs some taking care of," Ruthie suggested and they both giggled, with John complaining: "Hey, I'm standing right here."

Ruthie leaned over and gave Carol a cheek kiss and blew another kiss across the room at John, as she left.

Then Carol went to where John was still standing. She said: "I came back for coffee. Your sister is lovely!"

"Thank you," he said, "She's a best pal."

They went into his office and he talked about Ruthie and him, their growing up and being such friends. He mentioned that she only moved out six months previously. He also told her about rehabbing the Victorian, about him and Rufus.

"But I'm babbling," he said with chagrin.

"Not at all," she said, "After all, I barged in here unannounced."

"I'm glad that you did!" he said.

He leaned forward then and kissed her hand, getting a grin from her. He realized that he could probably lose himself in the depths of her green eyes.

"I'm on an errand for our office," she said, "And should be getting to it. Since it was close, I wanted to stop again."

"Thank you," he said appreciatively, walking her to the door.

At the door, she paused for a hug, and in the middle of the hug, gave him a quick, soft and lovely kiss.

"This is going with a speed that turns my head around," she said.

"I know," was his comment.

She stroked his cheek then and said: "Its okay, Judge, I'll take such good care of you."

He blushed and she whispered into his lips: "Tight, black running pants! Maybe leaving no room for panties!"

He groaned and she giggled as she left, flouncing out of his office and waving to him, as she went.

When she got home, later that afternoon, she called Sheila right away.

"Hello," Sheila answered.

"Sheila," Carol said almost breathlessly. "I went!"

Sheila squealed: "You went? Girl? You went to see him and say 'thank you'."

"Yep," Carol said, "That's me! Ms Brass Ass of the year!"

They both fell into giggles about it.

"Honey," Sheila went on, "That is so great! How do you feel?"

Carol paused and said: "Kind of rejuvenated, I guess."

"How'd it go?" Sheila wanted to know next.

"He asked me to dinner tomorrow night!" Carol said, a hint of triumph in her voice.

Sheila squealed again.

"Cool!" Sheila proclaimed.

"But wait!" Carol said, "Wait 'til I tell you what he said."

"Tell, tell!" Sheila shot back.

"I asked him what the dress code was and you know what he said?" Carol said, as though a moment of triumph was nearing.

"Yes?" Sheila said, joining in the spirit of the moment.

"Black stretch pants!" Carol said in a voice just above a whisper.

"I knew it!" Sheila proclaimed. "I knew it. When he came on us on the trail, he saw your booty in those skin tight black stretch pants and you had him from that moment on."

They were both giggling now to each other.

Then Carol told Sheila about her comment concerning no room for panties! And the shrieking and giggling was going on again.