A Really Fine Ass

... A story that was written fifteen, maybe more, years ago; and was forgotten about. Written at a time when I knew a lady with such an ass!... An ass, a lady, with which/whom I took great pleasure in attending to!... Enjoy!!

A Really Nice Ass

There was this lady, see, who had this really nice ass. Kingdoms had been known to rise and fall because of this lady's ass. Kings, princes, great generals, an occasional empress, and numerous potentates stood in awe, lusted after this lady's ass. ... Fought great battles for the honor, the right to, the pleasure of being near this particular ass.

The lady, however, was enormously selective, and banished most of the lot out of hand. Those not banished pleasured the lady, and themselves, with various ... sometimes outlandish ... attention to the lady's ass.

She, the lady, had had photographs taken of her ass. This particular photographer stretched her out, face down, a mound of satin pillow under her pelvic. All was dark, almost black, save for where the light shined from over her shoulder, illuminating the contour of the lady's really nice ass. He, this particular photographer, had placed the camera between her feet, looking up the length of her legs. Her skin glowed in twin arch's, from the center of the photograph outward and curving down. They, the twin arch's, separated by a cleft, a crease.

Fine, fine hairs glowed where the light struck them. At least one potentate, upon seeing the matted, framed, and hung photograph for the first time went speechless in mid -- sentence, losing completely his train of thought.

And, there was the photograph where the lady stood in an outdoor shower; it, the shower, in deep shade. A single shaft of sunlight lighted her really nice ass. Water droplets caught the sunlight, gleamed like diamonds where they clung to her skin just above the tops of her legs, as if reluctant to drop away --- reluctant to leave her. ( There was another photograph of the lady with a shaft of sunlight playing on the tangle of hair at the top of her legs. That, however is another story for another day. )

The green foliage and rock wall in the background were soft, out of focus. The skin of her legs and back, her hair were lost in the deep shade. Only her ass, the diamond drops of water clinging to her skin were lighted, in focus. The famous general who owned this photograph searched in vain to find a real live ass equal to this one. ... One he could have for his own.

Despite her enormous degree of selectiveness, her high standards, the lady really liked to have her ass stroked, licked, squeezed, bitten ... in general, attended to. Sometimes the most delicious thoughts, fantasies, leapt into her mind at the oddest moments. Once in the middle of a staff meeting she watched a BMW roadster, blue and cream convertible, stop at the red light across the way.

Suddenly, in her mind, she was gone ... a winding road, warm sunshine, the driver a charming prince from among her legion of admirers. He would drive the roadster into an endless field, stop underneath a lone tree atop a hill. He would stand behind her, trace his finger tips along the crease at the bottom of her ass, the top of her legs. The lady would stand still for a very long time watching the endless sky, feeling his fingers, his finger nails stroke across her ass. She learned little at this particular staff meeting.

Or, suddenly, on Sunday morning, singing in the choir she would experience a flash, her ass would begin to tingle. She would remember from the night before the slap of testicles against her really fine ass. She, the lady, would flush and lose track of the music, the words.

Best of all, however, was when the fingers and the tongues administering attention to her ass were real fingers and real tongues. And foremost among the supplicants desirous of lavishing attention to the lady's really fine ass was not a king, or a potentate, or a famous general, or captain of industry, but simply a fellow who understood the lady's ass. This fellow intuitively knew which curve, which crease needed attention, which attention it needed: to be stroked, licked, sucked, nibbled upon, squeezed, bitten, sometimes even slapped.

Once, calling upon the lady, he, this particular fellow, had heard her from deep inside the house, 'I' m in the shower.' (This was not the time her picture had been taken, the shaft of sunlight playing on her ass.) The fellow went through the bedroom, caught sight, in the mirror, of water running down her back, over the curve of her ass, dropping to the floor. He had joined her in the shower: shoes, clothes and all. She, the lady, had turned her back to him, leaned the palms of her hands against the limestone wall, stood with her feet planted wide apart, her really fine ass thrust out behind.

He, this fellow who understood the lady's really fine ass, had gone to his knees, had taken as much of that spot at the inside -- bottom of her ass into his mouth as possible. The warm water ran off her back, down the crease of her ass ... onto his hair, his face; soaking his shirt, his shoes. He bite the point of her really fine ass. She squealed --- or moaned --- she wasn't sure which.

He, this fellow, especially enjoyed the lady wearing a short skirt or dress. He would stretch her out, face down, then tease both himself and her: repeatedly uncovering and re-covering, and lavishly administering attention to her really fine ass ... then covering her with the fine fabric of the skirt or dress, only to uncover her again, relishing with great anticipation each time the sight, the feel, of the lady's really fine ass being uncovered to his eyes, uncovered to his hands and fingers, to his mouth and tongue.

Other times, he, this fellow who understood the lady's ass, poured drops of red wine into the slight hollow at the bottom of her spine ... licked it from her skin. Or he spilled a spoon full where the crease of her ass started at the top, watched it run down the crease; then, starting at the bottom of the crease, ran his tongue up the crease, catching the flowing wine. She, the lady, always lifted her ass up to meet his attentions when the fellow did this.

The lady ultimately wearied of important men and great battles and the rise and fall of kingdoms. She became enormously selective. Only fellows who intuitively understood the lady and her ass need come calling.

She lay, face down, a mound of satin pillows under her pelvic. The room was dark save where the spot light shown on the center of the bed. She watched, in the row of mirrors, the fellow who read so expertly the subtle shifts in her positions, who knew where she next wanted his tongue. She watched, in the row of mirrors, his head between her legs.

She watched him run his tongue along the crease between the top of her legs and the bottom of her ass.

The lady with the really fine ass seldom thought about, did not miss, the kings and princes and famous generals, not even the potentates. ... And certainly not the occasional empress. She did, however, from time to time, experience flashes of lust for the fellow who drove the blue and cream colored BMW roadster.