The day I started appreciating asses.  

Brotcod 33M
4 posts
11/24/2005 2:05 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The day I started appreciating asses.


A few things to emphasize here
1. I'm not soley turned on by asses, I just have a deeper appreciation for them than I did in my yesteryears
2. I am not a fan of arse play.
3. Biting a girl's ass through her jeans is one of the few things that turned me on and made me laugh at the same time.

So the story is "The day I started appreciating asses" not to be confused with the story of "The day I became an ass man". I'm not an ass man, I'm all about tits, breasts, jugs, knockers, fun-bags, naughy pillows, racks- you get the idea. I have always loved breasts, in fact I was such a master of oggling goods that by the time I was in highschool I could fake being asleep with my hand on my chin and survey more than half the room, I could fake eyecontact by simply standing a couple feet back, I could even pretend that my bashful stares at the floor weren't to look at a girl's neck or chest. I love all shapes sizes and varieties of breasts except two: "frankentits" (botched implants) and crumpled paper bag (old lady boobs) Alright, I've tooted my own horn enough for a month on with the story.

One day as my father and I were leaving a grocery store, an old rich man and a girl we assumed was his daughter walked in front of us. We assumed he was her daughter because this girl was probably too young to be a real gold digger. We're talking Highschool jail bait 17 being the estimate. I was... 19 edging on 20 so it was okay for me to stare. She was wearing one of those sleazy "barely cover my ass" skirts and a black tank top. Exposed belly button ring, heels, you know; the kind of outfit no father would let his daughter leave the house in but we see it all the fucking time much to my supreme joy? Anyway, we had spotted her in the store earlier, and me and my dad are subtle cheovenist pigs (that's a tough one to spell and I'm not going to bother with it) so we harumph loudly to each other about modern fasion and then out of the side of our mouths compliment the amazing slim figure barely contained in that loincloth and bra combo. As we're walking out, the old man and the smoking hot peice of jailbait walk ahead, as the old man grabs the keys to his BMW she snatches them out of his hands says "I'll drive" and starts trotting gleefully to the car.
...
good lord
It was like the clouds split that summer evening and showered a golden beam of light on that black g-string as her skirt flapped away to reveal two perfectly tanned cheeks bouncing ever so slightly with each stride. As her feet landed, I could hear banging hammers in my subconcious- the pounding in my head was the call of thousands of years of evolution calling to me. The beat of that drumming said "try to catch up, rip her clothes off and mount her" with each crashing thump. My father and I stood dumb struck, time slowed down as the drums beat louder, eventually coming to an unbearable crescendo as the oppurtunity dissapeared, and she rolled into that BMW and drove away.

I believe I was holding a coke at the time, vanilla maybe, when I realized I was a man that loved a good ass.

I have moments of supreme appreciation for the female figure. That was in the top five. Next up is probably how I came to love kissing necks.

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