The bus stop Dean waited at was just a short walk from his house, but in the fierce sun he had already broken a sweat on the walk down. The bus turned the corner ahead of him and came hurtling down the road, he stuck his hand out for it to stop and the bus rushed straight by without so much as a look from the lady driving it.

Sometimes the bus wouldn't stop if the bus was already overpacked but it was a Saturday morning and the bus had looked empty. The bus driver usually gave you a sympathetic look as well if they couldn't stop for whatever reason. Dean grumbled under his breath but luckily for him the next bus also took him where he needed it to go and it was usually only ten minutes behind the first.

The next driver stopped and Dean handed him the standard fare before taking a place at the standing area. He never sat down on the bus from his house, after a few stops the bus would be in the busier part of town and he didn't really need to sit as much as many others.

After a few stops all the seats had been taken and people began to fill in the standing area with him. Dean found himself backed into the corner, he moved his hand from the rail above his head and gripped the one by his window so as to take up less space.

“Sorry buddy.” A man apologised when he stepped on Dean's foot.

“No worries.”

At the next stop a rather tall woman in a sleeveless black tank top had stepped on and made her way to the standing area. She was almost a head taller than Dean, with short blonde hair and large heaving breasts, threatening to break free of her thin top with each step. She stood before Dean and he struggled to look away from her deep cleavage.

The man beside Dean shuffled forward, “Excuse me, thanks.” He said to the large woman.

She smiled at him and took a step forward to let him pass, in doing so the large valley of her bosom suddenly engulfed Deans face before he was fully aware what was happening. Dean tried to pull out but his back was to the wall. He tried to turn his face away but only succeeded in rubbing it around in the woman's humid cleavage. The woman moved back then as the man had passed. Dean expected her to either apologise or snap at him. Neither happened.

Looking straight over Deans head and out the window, the woman turned to the side, moved her arm up to the bar running along the ceiling and gave Dean a face full of her smooth but sweating armpit. Dean opened his mouth in protest only to receive the salty and pungent taste of this woman's pit. As the bus moved off and shook from side to side, Dean was smacked and rubbed all over this woman's sticky, hot underarm. So embarrassed by the situation, Dean could not even muster the courage to speak up and complain. Nobody on the bus seemed to notice what was happening and Dean was scared now of drawing attention to his humiliation.

Why was this woman doing this to him? He couldn't figure out what was happening today but none of it made any sense!

After fifteen minutes, which went by like hours, of being smacked, smeared and smothered in this woman's armpit, Dean finally slipped out when the bus reached his stop. He quickly made his way off the bus with his head hung low so as to hide the sheen of sweat which soaked the whole front of his head and matted his fringe down to his forehead.

Dean spent a good five minutes drying his face on his sleeve and trying to get the sweat smell out of his nose. After doing as good a job as he could he made his way to the office he'd be spending at least the rest of summer, if not the next year, working in.

The building was a monolithic tower of tinted glass with a large revolving door in the centre of the ground floor. Dean hated revolving doors, he thought they were unnecessarily awkward and, unless the building really was that busy, slowed everything down. But once through those he came into the reception area and approached the desk.

Behind the desk sat a rather heavy set woman, her dark brown hair tied back in a tight and high bun. Her purple dress had a slight shine to it and actually fit her quite flatteringly.

“Hello there,” Dean said, leaning slightly over the desk. The woman did not react, she kept her eyes glued to the computer screen tapping away on the keyboard. Dean cleared his throat. “Hello. Excuse me!” Dean near yelling.

“Oh, hello there,” the woman finally replied, laughing to herself “I'm sorry, I must have been far to engrossed in this work. I'm Rachael, how can I help you?”

Dean smiled and laughed himself, “That's quite alright Rachael. I'm here to hand in this medical form, I'm starting here on Monday.” He explained as he handed over the form.

“Ah very good. If you'll follow me I'll just get this photocopied, we always need two or three copies of everything here, then I'll sign you off and get you an identification card as well while we're at it. You'll need ID for anywhere passed reception.” The woman told him as she pushed herself out of her chair.

Rachael, in her strapped high heels, was taller than Dean and after the incident on the bus Dean was starting to feel his short stature more keenly.

Dean followed the woman through a short hallway and two doors, both requiring the receptionists ID card. As they walked he couldn't help taking the woman's size into consideration, she was probably half again as wide as Dean himself and her backside was approaching twice his width.

“Here we are.” Rachael said as she let them both into a small photocopying room, a third person would have made the room uncomfortably crowded but it wasn't too bad that Dean was going to wait outside. “Now this thing is usually a nightmare. I'm the only one on this floor today and I'm not all that confident using it, so hopefully it won't give us any trouble.” Rachael warned with a smile.

She gave Dean's form a once over to ensure he'd filled it all out correctly before she placed it into the scanner. “You can take a seat just there Dean,” Rachael said pointing out the one chair in the room, against the wall perhaps three feet from the copier. “So how have you found yourself working here?” Rachael asked “You're a fair bit younger than most everyone you'll be working with.”

“Well my mother did an internship a long time ago, but she still has friends here and so she got me a position for the year. Unashamed nepotism, but in this work climate I'll take it.” Dean laughed.

“Quite right, take whatever help you can get for yourself.” The scanner made a few quick beeps which didn't sound quite so healthy. “Oh hell, this thing couldn't just work could it? Of course not, that would actually be convenient.” Rachael ranted as she turned to deal with the copier. “A jam!? How can it jam when I've not even asked it to print yet!” Rachael complained as she pulled the face off the copier and set it to the side. “Let's have a look here.” Rachael muttered.

With that Rachael took a step back, bringing her sizeable backside just a foot from Dean's face. She moved her head around the copier and Dean found himself staring at the dead centre of her ass. Then Rachael bent forward, sending her ass straight into his face. Everything went black as her rear end covered the whole of Dean's face. He pulled his head back violently and while freeing his face he hit his head painfully against the wall. Rachael however seemed unaware and needing to see lower into the paper tray she moved her butt back again now sandwiching Dean's head between her back side and the wall.

“Mmmpphh!” Was all he could yell as he got a faceful, and mouthful of Rachael's butt. She wiggled her rear about as she searched out and messed around with whatever problem the copier was having. As she ground her butt against Dean's face she managed to force his head deeper between her cheeks and Dean's nose was full of the musky and unmistakeable scent of her ass. Breathing was difficult but possible, however unpleasant it was with the stench, and Dean found himself fighting hard for breath.

“Oh I see,” Dean heard Rachael say in an upbeat tone. “There!” She said as she straightened herself up. She turned to face Dean on the chair but he was gone. “Oh. Probably gone to the bathroom or something.”

Dean had not gone anywhere. When Rachael had straightened, her huge cheeks had closed around Deans head completely engulfing him within her ass. How she hadn't felt the wedgie, of both her dress and Dean's head deep in her crack, was beyond his comprehension. Dean heard her voice, muffled by her ass cheeks, after she had turned and pulled Dean off his chair and swinging him around behind her.

Deans body was almost limp hanging out of her backside, the difficulty he had breathing was making his body weak and unresponsive but much to his dismay it wasn't affecting his conciousness. He was very aware of every feeling his head was subjected to, the smell above all, but even the pressure her buttocks made on his head when she moved about. Her cheeks were practically pulling in and swallowing up his face.

Rachael was clueless as to Dean's real location, and would likely have been mortified if she'd known. She paced up and down the small room, unknowingly dragging Dean behind her and working his face over with her huge ass. “Well if he went to the bathroom he would need ID, I better go find him in that case.”

As Rachael turned to leave the room she pulled her dress down to smooth it out, tugging much harder than she was used to she managed to pop Dean out of her ass crack, landing him in a gasping heap on the floor. Not that Rachael noticed as she proceeded to leave the room, letting the door slam behind her.

Dean lay down for several minutes, without even the strength to lift his head, he took in long and deep breathes as he let the world stop spinning around him. So full of relief he almost found himself smiling. Almost.

Finally he pushed himself to his feet and slowly made himself over to the chair, which he pushed over and out of the way of the copier. He sat with his head between his legs, still breathing deeply and quickly. “That was not normal, that was borderline impossible. No way she couldn't feel me, no way that was an accident!” Dean sounded out to himself.

Eventually Dean managed to regain his breathe fully and calm his beating heart just as Rachael let herself back into the room. She had a very confused look on her face. “ Rachael!” Dean shouted, ready to unload a tirade of abuse at her for what she'd done to him.

“Oh there you are! I've been searching all this floor for you and here you are.” Rachael chuckled. Her manner so innocent, so unassuming of any problem, that Dean began to question his own memory.

Had he imagined it? No of course not! He couldn't have, that woman was the crazy one, doing that to him. But the way she was acting, Dean began to really entertain the idea that it had been a complete accident and one she was unaware of committing.

“Erm yes, sorry. I... uh... I went to look for the bathroom, but then I couldn't find it so I just came back, and now I don't really need to go anymore.” Dean laughed.

“Oh I see. Funny how that can happen sometimes isn't it.” She gave him a funny, but not unkind look. “Well it looks like this has printed off and so I'll just go print you off an ID card and meet you back at reception, then you can get back to enjoying your weekend.” Rachael said cheerily. “You did email us an ID photo didn't you?” She asked. Dean nodded. “You remember the way back to reception?” She added. Dean nodded again.

Back at reception Dean had the difficult job of getting Rachael's attention as she came out with his ID in hand. Getting attention was becoming an alarming theme it seemed. After he had succeed he was on his way home in time for a good lunch. After all he'd been through already he decided to walk and clear his head during the almost hour long wander home.