I do not own the characters of Jim and Pam and no infringements of any kind are intended or implied...and their appearance here (or in any of my previous writing, for that matter) is solely for the pure non-commercial enjoyment of the audience.  So, please enjoy. Also, a big thanks to pjries for her welcome encouragement.  

                        Pam Beesly’s Butt

The breaking light of dawn filtered through the trees, casting a warm golden glow across Jim’s bed.  In the distance he could hear the faint call of a robin singing for its mate while a gentle breeze swept through the screen helping to waft away the muggy summer heat that had lingered too long through the night.  Pam lay quietly on her stomach, so still…so perfect, her face turned away from him toward the window.  She was fast asleep, the sound of her light, rhythmic breathing so softly soothing as morning stirred.  In the night heat, she’d managed to push the covers away, leaving the blanket hanging over the end of the bed and herself mostly uncovered. 

As Jim focused, his eyes wandered slowly across her naked form, tracing a lazy but deliberate path along every line, every nook and every curve.  He’d explored every last inch, again and again...and then again, yet he marveled at how it all remained such a wonder to him.  Each time he touched her, each time he caressed her skin with his fingers or his lips…was both a revelation and a mystery all at once.  Each time he tasted her, the flavors were new and more delicious than the time before.

His gaze came to rest on her butt, that soft, round…perfect little butt and the sly hint of a smile formed at the corners of his mouth.  He loved Pam Beesly’s butt!  He really did…and he’d told her a million times, but he didn’t think she really believed him.  But he did…he loved that butt.  He loved the feel of it…the firmness of it, the creamy smoothness of it and the unholy bejeezun warmth of it.  He loved everything about it...how it made the line of her skirts flare out just the right way, and how it perfectly cushioned her when she sat on that high wooden stool of hers as she prepped a canvas.  He loved the way it hugged the well-worn material of her favorite pair of jeans when she bent over to water the flowers that grew on the terrace and especially how it swayed hypnotically, almost invitingly whenever he purposely lagged behind her in the aisles of the grocery store.  He loved the fullness of it cupped in his hands when she lay atop him after some particularly sweet but sweaty sex.  But without a doubt, what he loved most was the way it fit against him when he wrapped his arms around her at night, pulling her close before whispering how much he loved her.  And then sometimes, if he’d been especially good she’d give it a slightly naughty wiggle and they’d take just that much longer before finally getting to sleep. 

Now, as he lay there, he found himself lost in the fascination of how the sun’s shadow highlighted the absolute mathematical symmetry of each contour.  Of how miraculously those two pear-shaped globes flowed one against the other into the narrowness of her lower back and waist.  It was such an unspeakably perfect thing.  He laughed to himself as he thought just how much he wanted to pinch it, to give it a quick pat or a gentle squeeze just to feel its glorious curve under his touch.  He wanted to play with it, toss it in the air and juggle it above his head.  He wanted to smother it in whipped cream and strawberries and warm, dripping chocolate sweetness.  He wanted to reach out, with only the very tips of his fingers just barely hovering over the milky white purity of her skin, teasing it, tickling it, seducing it to respond. 

But he knew if he did, she'd stir from her sleep.  And though knowing she wouldn't mind...she enjoyed making love like this, early in the morning when everything was still quiet and new...he didn't want to break the spell, at least not yet.  He wanted this to go on...this thinking of her...this never ending desire to know her...this wondrous idea of loving her and every lttle thing about her.  And so he watched her, as he so often did...letting her sleep just a little while longer.  Today it was her butt...that beautiful, beautiful butt.  Why?  He really didn't know...it had just been the thing that caught his fancy.  Tomorrow, who knows?  It could be her hair, her toes or maybe the way she slowly flicks her lashes as she dreams.  But whatever it might be, Jim knew it would be new and wonderful all over again...as it always was.

                                             The End