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It’s always important to be honest with yourself, because self-reflection leads to enlightenment or some such shit. Well, my truth has always been that I have a bangin’ ass. My boobs are nothing to write home about, just cute B-cups that will likely remain perky for the rest of my life, but I’d replace them with implants in a heartbeat because I guess I just want to fully exploit my inner slut and fake tits seem to be a step in the right direction. My ass, however, is a winner.
It’s definitely gotten me into trouble over the years. One guy, whose last name I still do not recall to this day, was so enamored with it that he was determined to talk me into sleeping with him. I was a lady and resisted on the first date. I went away on my senior trip and didn’t see him again for a month, during which time I’d forgotten about him. But he was persistent and when we went out for the second time the stars aligned in his favor. I was just the right mixture of bored/rebellious/horny, and not only did I fuck his brains out but I also left my anal virginity there in his parents’ house (mommy and daddy were away for the weekend). I didn’t really care for the guy as a person, so I made no effort to continue our ‘relationship’. But the devil that is MySpace brought him back into my life, when I received an inquisitive letter from some homely chick asking how I knew Michael. I realized she was his girlfriend, and his dumb ass probably wouldn’t have gotten caught if he hadn’t left a comment on a MySpace photo of my ass that said, “When can I get in that again?” Because I had no regard for him, his feelings, or his life in general, I told her what was up. She seemed in denial, until I described the bed that we had fucked in and the layout of the house. Poor girl 🙁 Turns out her boyfriend of a few years had told her that he was going out of town with his parents, when in reality he was in town working my ass over. I never saw that dude again, but he kept sending me e-mails for a while after that. I probably ruined three solid years of that guy’s life, and he still wanted more.
I think my ass also ruined a marriage. In my defense, I didn’t know this guy was married. He was just a sexy & nerdy computer programmer named Leif who drove a red BMW and liked to take me out when he was in town. I should have known better. He was ten years older than me, and had a well-paying job with benefits, and common sense should have told me that some other 30-something woman would have already snatched him up. He once disappeared completely, like Jack-Bauer-going-dark kind of disappeared, for two weeks. I thought he was dead, and I actually cried about it once. When he pops back up, he gives me a sob story about his grandma falling and breaking a hip or both hips or something, and I comforted him with my vagina because I’m empathetic like that. A few days later I receive an e-mail telling me that he’s actually been in an unhappy marriage since he graduated from high school. There was no clumsy grandmother, this motherfucker had a WIFE. I was livid, seething, almost psychotic. How dare he drag me unwittingly into the middle of a marriage??? He begged to see me, wanted to apologize and explain. He came over and I flew into a rage, called him every name in the book. Then we had hot, crazy, angry, and violent sex. But I swear that was the last time! I e-mailed once afterwards, probably to tell him that I hoped his car ran off a cliff or that he could have the earrings that he bought me back. He replied with some overly emotional nonsense about how his wife found my number written down somewhere and was threatening to leave him, and how all he wanted was to spend an hour with his face buried between my legs.
The moral of the story is that pussy (and ass) is a powerful thing. And while you should enjoy admiring, licking, and fucking it, try not to let it ruin your life.