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by Roy_Eldorado © It’s not even 9:00 A.M. and already Kelly’s got her middle finger up her ass, not just the top quarter of her finger but the whole length from nail to knuckle, jammed in her rectum with greed and self indulgence, stuffed up her bottom with a sexual hunger that borders on hedonism, and although some would consider Kelly’s actions tasteless and impure, we find room to tolerate them--oh yes--we find room to tolerate them, because Kelly was a runner-up in the Miss Massachusetts pageant, and when you're a runner-up in the Miss Massachusetts pageant you can stick your middle finger up your own ass without provoking disgust or revulsion, especially a pristine, Ivy League woman like Kelly, woman whose long auburn hair goes good pulled into ponytails or left spilling over her lightly freckled shoulders, a woman who needs no colored contacts to enhance her green, emerald eyes, a woman who dresses in tight, cut-off jean shorts and sits spread eagle on the slanted roof of her boyfriend’s fraternity house, the crotch of her jeans forming a wedgy in her shaved gash, but that’s not everything pleasing about Kelly, no sir, there are other things, other physical attributes which make heads turn and jaws drop, like the look of her sinful feet strapped-up in platform heels, or the bounce of her heavy breasts beneath her Harvard T-shirt as she jogs braless through the city streets, and then you realize that a woman like this could never be dirty, could never be unclean--even if she does have her middle finger jammed up her ass--that her scents and smells and secretions are majestically sweet, that you would do anything, give anything to wake up next to her in the morning and smell her breath, smell her pungent morning breath as she slowly exhales it into your nose during orgasm, the thickness of your sex filling her moist interior, her long tan legs pushed back against the headboard, her hands grasping at the moving muscles of your back, sunshine beaming in through the window as she calls out, "Please don’t stop!", all of these odors and secretions are good--so good!--could never be bad, which is why you are not offended by the act of Kelly sticking her middle finger up her ass on her dorm room bed first thing in the morning, sticking it up her ass while her Business & Economic Math class is presently in session, right while her needle-nose Harvard classmates are studying the laws of supply and demand, but she IS doing it, is jamming her middle finger up her ass, doing it because it feels so goddamn good--yes, it does!--and she digs it deeper up herself, digs it hard and deep, twists it inside herself, up her ass, the knuckles of the other three fingers pressing against the rim of her asshole, white knuckles, all the way up past the knuckle, keep going, keep going, she doesn’t want to stop, her long middle finger up her ass is bliss, is heaven, is oh-so-fucking-good, and while her classmates study a bunch of useless statistics concerning Gross National Product, while they listen to some Indian professor with a hair net and a red dot on his forehead who can’t speak a goddamn lick of English, while they do that, Kelly will please herself with her stinky little finger, up her ass, in her butt, her stinky middle finger mining for gold, and she doesn’t feel any guilt about it like her roommate Gwen does when Kelly catches her exploring her vaginal innards with the Silver Bullet--no sir, she doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty--but she does feel completely and totally exhilarated, a girl who cuts right to the chase and lets her inner most desires come to the forefront, and then she pulls her finger out of her ass to give it a nice big whiff, and yes--yes!--it smells like her ass, just like her ass, and of course she loves it, the nasty little slut loves the smell of her ass, cause she knows when she’s done finger fucking her ass and strumming her clit she won’t wash her hands--no she won’t!--she’ll leave the scent of her pussy and her ass all over her fingers, and when she leaves her dorm room to go to class, to take the finals for which she was supposed to be studying while she was digging a finger up her ass, she’ll pretend her hands are clean, clean enough to eat from, clean enough to operate the water fountain in the lobby of her dorm, to page through library books, to order a sub at the student union, to shake hands with her gray-bearded professors, and during the day, while she’s going through her normal routines, she’ll casually place her finger under her nose and wallow in its rude stink, the scent of it wonderfully primitive, and then when no one’s watching she’ll extend her middle finger and look at it--stare at it--notice how the nail on the end of it is clipped to the nub so she can’t cut herself when she plays her naughty ass games, notice how LONG the goddamn finger is, how it almost looks like a penis on the end of her hand, and this, of course, will turn her thoughts to the issue of anal sex, and how she’s been curious to try the "ass thing" since she was 15, how there is something forbidden yet blissful about having . . . about having . . . well, she’s not going to say it, even though when she gets drunk and mentions the idea to her Harvard girlfriends they shake their heads and scoff at such a filthy, filthy notion, and then Kelly feels relieved that she didn’t mention the part about giving oral sex directly following anal sex, about performing fellatio on the guy who’s just uncorked himself from her white round rump, taking his meat down her throat like a piece of filthy garbage, like a tramp, like a slut, ass and mouth, anal and oral, a 22-year-old woman fixated at both Freudian stages, Freud the genius--Freud the fucking genius!--Freud the guy who knew it all boiled down to sucking on things or fucking on things, sticking things in your ass or in your mouth, sticking things in your ass AND in your mouth, Freud the guy who probably loved the smell of his own ass just as Kelly loves the smell of hers, and even back in biblical times, in the land of Sodom and Gomorrah, people knew the pleasures involved with probing one’s ass, but Kelly’s a grown woman and can decide such matters for herself, and now she understands that keeping with the pleasures of her middle finger is probably the safest bet, the cleanest bet, so she continues to finger the puckered rim of her stinky brown hole, digging hard, digging deep, strumming her ass like a goddamn banjo. |