OK it's time...

[JimmyBlueEyes]

Sileras Ass



Most people don’t want to see their own ass but I really need to in unfathomable ways. I want to know what everyone else is staring at. I feel the eyes burn into it as I pass. Not only men either. Women, especially black women, stare at it all the time. It’s an odd ass to see on a Caucasian. I think I’m quite possibly the most ass conscious person alive. If you think you’re looking and I don’t know it, you’re wrong. I guess the fact of the matter is that I’m jealous that complete strangers can appreciate my ass and I can’t. It’s my fucking ass and why should everyone else get joy and pleasure from it but me?

I can’t see my own ass. I mean, I’ve seen it but only in pictures, and odd mirror angles. I’ve never seen dead on, or in the flesh. Apparently, it’s a great ass but I DON’T KNOW. It really kills me, and I’ll admit that I quite often find myself chasing after my own ass buck naked out of the shower, in the hopes I’ll catch a peek.

Having big tits is a huge advantage to having a big ass. First off, I could see them and admire them. I could appreciate my tits and enhance them so that others could appreciate them as well. With the ass, you’re just estimating. Sure, I could get the opinions of the sales girls when I try them on, but they’d let a 2 ton heifer buy the same pants and give her the same raving reviews. A man is never going to provide an honest opinion regarding my ass, because a) he wants in it and b) refer to a. A gay man would be the least reliable in that department because he’d want my ass to look as unappealing as possible.

I do my best with my ass, but I can’t help feeling that there is more that can be done. I shave my asshole every time I shower, even if I don’t shave anything else. I’ve slowly downsized my underwear to the point that it now resembles an eye patch. Thongs are just too much material chafing my crack. I’m preemptively using anti cellulite cream and doing aerobics regularly to avoid the cottage cheese accumulation that usually begins either after marriage or after 30. It’s all I’ve got; I’m giving it all I can in return. All this work for the benefit of strangers.

Speaking of strangers, A filthy homeless man was staring at my ass as I exited the train this afternoon and screamed, “YOU HAVE NO PANTIES ON!!" I ask you, is it fair that HE gets to look at my ass, and I don’t? The answer is, quite simply, No. It’s not fair. Not one bit. He does not deserve my ass. He doesn’t even know enough to realize that I DID indeed have panties on; SPECIAL panties that I buy for my SPECIAL ass. To add insult to injury, he proceeded to bellow, “HOW DARE YOU? YOUR ASS MUST STINK!”

I am quite rarely speechless. This however, was one of those rare occasions. I was tempted to shout back “MY ASS DOESN’T STINK BECAUSE I JUST SNIFFED MY G STRING WHEN I TOOK A PISS AND IT WAS WONDEROUS!” I couldn’t though. Mostly because it’s a lousy attempt at a comeback, but also because I don’t think I should have to. Why should I have to defend my GREAT ASS’s odor to a homeless man that just slept in his own urine? So I continued to walk onward, ass held high, pretending to make a phone call, and pretending that I did not notice that now every other man on the street was staring at my apparently non-panties-wearing stank butt.

I suppose the point of this somewhat egocentric rant is that I’m just a little bit aggravated that I am the proud proprietor of such a marvelous posterior, but I can’t appreciate it, because I can’t see it. Oh well, on to World Peace.

~Silera~