The Special Thing About Me


I can always recognize the boys, such as you, who have been waiting a lifetime to meet me. When I am feeling flirty, I wash myself carefully, especially my specialness, with liquid soap on the tip of my pinky. Then I wriggle into a tight Lycra skirt and walk out into the business district, near the park, near the hotels where the men from out of town stay.

Very few people notice. For some reason, it’s often the women who notice first, especially the matronly types; you’d think they would not bring their gaze to a woman’s buttocks. But they do. Some of them look away quickly, and a very few–I assume the ones who understand that I am not at all ashamed, but proud–meet my eyes and glare openly. I always smile and give a little bounce, so they can see it wiggle. Invariably, they turn red and change directions. I love feeling wicked, and I’m very lucky to be so equipped for wickedness.

Of course I remember the day I met you…I noticed you first. It was a hot day, sunny and humid, and I was beginning to drip. I could smell my own musk. I was flatulent, and I was savoring the sensations of the moist little bursts of warm smelly air as they snaked their way out of me. I had not looked at myself (I porno never do), but, as you would confirm for me later, there was a little bead of ooze at the end of my sweet thing, emerging through the back of my skirt like a droplet of milk from a breast.

Something about you…oh, sweetie. I could tell you needed me, needed someone gamy like me. I am pretty sure you smelled my musky scent before you saw me. But then our eyes met, and we were facing each other there on the streetcorner. I remember thinking how ironic it was that my special thing was out of your sight at that magic moment.

You looked me up and down, and you saw my thick nipples pushing out through my blouse. When your eyes returned to my face, I looked you right in the eye and smiled, tossed my head so that my hair and my earrings danced, and pushed out the biggest fart I could summon. It was delicious…it smelled like my pussy and at the same time like a huge steaming turd.

I could not believe how quickly you got hard…it’s almost as if you were completely stiff before I finished the fart. Of course, farts take longer to come out of me than most people.

You said, “I bet you can’t do that again.”

“Of course I can…I just have to save up a little.”

“I hope to be here when you’re ready again.”

“I hope you will too. Walk with me into the park.”

I took your hand in mine, and we walked away from the street, through the park gate onto the grassy expanse. People were throwing baseballs and frisbees, and couples lay in the sun, at a discreet distance from one another. Without speaking, we walked towards an unoccupied spot. I could not believe that you still had not looked at my backside!

Or perhaps you had. As we lowered ourselves to the grass, you murmured, “Lie down on your side, facing away from me…I think you’ll be more comfortable.” You were so right. I pulled my knees up towards my chest and thrust out my buttocks, so that the bulge between my cheeks would be unmissable.

“You’re very beautiful,” you said, “and you seem to have shat yourself.”

“No, my dear, although I would be pleased to do that for you later. Touch.”

You put your hand on my hip, in an innocent way. I saw you looking around, checking to see whether anyone was approaching, just as I did. Then you placed your hand right on my tenderness, and you gripped it firmly but warmly.

“My God, it feels like…you.”

“It is me. I have had a prolapsed rectum since I was a teenager.”

“How did it happen?”

“My first lover was very large and had very strong needs.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, quite the opposite. But I need you to kiss it and make it better.”

Now it was as if we were the only people in the park. You hitched my skirt to my waist, and my rectum flopped free. I love the feeling of the warm sun on its pink moistness. You knelt and placed your tongue and lips to it, licking and kissing its entire length.

I lost track of time. One moment your tongue would be circling my anus, and your big warm hands would be hefting my rectum to hold it out of the way as needed; and the next your tongue would be inserted as far as you could into my moist, shapeless opening, six or seven inches out from my anus.

“Take me now,” I gasped into the grass, and you complied. Somehow, you lubed your cock–had you planned this somehow?–and slipped it into me. I felt your cock inside me and your hand gripping your own cock firmly through my distended rectum…you began to jerk yourself using my shitter, and your hand slapped my asshole with each upward thrust.

When you came, I wished with all my heart that a woman could become pregnant in her ass.