I was asked by my writing instructor to do a story on what I learned in his class. I’ll give it to you plain and simple:

“Write what you know.”

It’s what a lot of them say. It’s what he said. I’ve heard it plenty before. I’m sure I’ll hear it again. I don’t think I had a problem with the phrase. It’s just that I’m the type who really needs to see something in action before I actually believe it. So if you’re looking for the essence of my story, a 2 second version of my catharsis, it’s to write what you know. If you want to know the details of how I really started to believe it, this is how that happened.

3pm rolls by and I’m sitting in my room aimlessly staring at the pixels on my computer screen. I’m in a rut. Creatively. It’s writers block. 3 months of it. So when I open my notebook and stare at a tag I ripped from a flyer from a supposed writing tutor, I’m anxious but even more desperate.

“What’s the worst it could do?” I ask myself.

Then I answer myself. He could kidnap me, rape me, chop me up into a million pieces and revisit those pieces annually. Steal my purse. Steal my money. Steal my writing. Ruin my writing, for that matter.

But again, I’m desperate. And I can’t find the right words to describe a skyscraper.

I dial and he answers and before I can say a thing he interrogates me with, “How often do you read?”

“A shit ton,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “Like who.”

I tell him that it’s hard to say. There’s just so many.

“First and foremost,” he insists.

It takes a few moments, but I spit out, “Hunter S. Thompson.”

He seems thrilled, and offers to meet at a public location if it makes me comfortable. I probably should agree to that, but instead I tell him to come to me because I don’t feel like letting the Starbucks community know my inadequacies. At least not these ones.

But I tell my neighbor, the ex Navy seal, anyway.

“If he does anything I’ll chop him into a million pieces,” says my neighbor.

“Sounds like there’s only one way this won’t turn messy,” I say.

The night arrives and I’m still on my computer, staring at a plain old skyscraper with no adjectives to support it. I figured if I snap out of it I can cancel on him at the last second and move on with my life. But I don’t. And then the doorbell rings.

I’d describe him, but that goes against the essence of what he taught me, especially on that night. I tell him about my writers block and my inability to find the right words. I show him the books I read, I show him samples of my writing. He sits there on my bed, a look of sincerity on his face. And he just reads and reads and reads. He doesn’t say anything really, until finally he looks up at me.

“Just don’t,” he says.

“Don’t?”

“Don’t describe the skyscraper.”

I ask him why not.

“It’s not important. All she does is pass by it on the way to the hotel. That’s where all the action takes place. I think, if anything, emphasize her reaction to the skyscraper. Because what does that tell us?”

I’m looking at him, definitely caught up in his words, but even more, the sincerity he speaks them with.

“It tells us she’s overwhelmed,” I say. “She’s still attached to the farm.”

“And that’s important,” he says, “because it foreshadows that there’s conflict to come. And we’ll know it.”

“We’ll know it the minute she runs into Mr. Corningstone.”

He sits back on my bed and gives me a smile. “That’s why you don’t describe it. Give them the essentials, nothing more.”

I give him a smile and offer him some coffee. On the way out of the room I catch him checking me out from behind. I chalk it up to boys being boys.

Eventually this boy, he gives me even more advice, most of which sounds reasonable to me, and more importantly it makes me feel like there’s actually some light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe a single ray, peaking out of a pinhole. But it’s there at least.

“It’s not about describing everything. It’s about describing the right thing.”

I tell him that should be a bumper sticker. He gives me a little chuckle.

“Ok then, what’s the right thing?” I ask.

“I think it’s up to you. Maybe it’s a tree, maybe it’s the fear in your main character’s soul.”

“Or maybe it’s sex,” I say. I say it and I don’t know where on Earth those words even come from. They sure as hell didn’t come from me. But I’m the only other one in the room and I’m pretty sure he saw my lips move the moment those words flew into the ether.

He laughs pretty hard. “It’s funny you say that. I’d argue some of my best writing, some of my best description even, has come from erotic stories.”

I squirm a little in my seat. “Really?”

He looks at me like he’s about to get into it, but instead puts down his coffee and suggests that we end the session for the night. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

I take a glance out my window and see my neighbor washing his dishes. I’m pretty sure he’s been washing the same dish for the last 30 minutes. “I’ll kick you out if I want to,” I tell him.

He looks down and darts his eyes back at me. “You really want to get into this?” he asks.

I pull his laptop out of his bag and hand it to him. “Show me what you got.”

He shrugs his shoulders and opens up a story tucked neatly away in a subfolder of a subfolder.

“A Taste of What’s to Come,” I say.

“Just to warn you–“

“Be quiet. I’ve read erotica before, I know what’s coming.”

And then I start to read. There isn’t much out of the ordinary to begin with. His dialogue is good, but it comes across as the typical, nearly-impossible bad porn movie situation. But then the character spreads her ass. Then he licks her ass. Then he really licks her ass. Soon he’s got his entire tongue deep in her ass, spelunking her ass, tongue fucking it like a fiend, and they are swapping “ass juices” back and forth and fingering asses and tasting asses and swallowing juices and enjoying the “flavors”.

I snap the laptop shut. “Oh shit dude this is such bullshit,” I tell him. “Flavors? Really?”

I expect him to look embarrassed but if anything he appears defensive. “This follows nearly everything we talked about tonight.”

“Come on, you’re going to tell me that you like eating girls asses? The flavors of an ass? You gotta be kidding me. You told me to write what you know.”

“That’s exactly right,” he says.

“The flavors of an ass? You mean shit? That’s what you really mean, none of this glorified ‘juice’ bullshit.”

He looks at me with that same look of sincerity. I smile at him because I can’t believe he’s not bullshitting me this very minute. But the look persists, and I open up the laptop and glance back at the story. Then back to him.

“You…you really like eating ass?” I ask.

“Writing what you know,” he says.

I roll my eyes.

“She’s real, by the way,” he says.

“Who?” as I take a closer look at the story. “Ananya?”

“It’s my big secret to you,” he says. “It’s easy to make a good story when you’ve lived out the real deal.”

I sit there, befuddled to say the least. Another glance out the window and the Seal is drying the same dish he started on 30 minutes ago. At least a little progress…

I sigh and tell him that it’s hard to believe. He starts to pack up his things again and insists that he didn’t make it up.

“You could just have a really perverted imagination,” I tell him.

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive,” he says. “But anyway, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

On his way out the door I thank him once again and he shakes my hand. I squeeze it and refuse to let go.

“So you’re not shitting me, huh?” I ask.

He walks down my driveway and turns around. “I mean, what, do you want me to prove it to you?”

I give him a smile and ask him to clarify. He comes back up to my doorstep and asks for my phone. Navy Seal is outside on the porch, arms crossed, staring the situation down.

He types and gives it back to me. 727 Sycamore Lane.

“If you go there, tomorrow, just about 6pm, I think your questions will be unabashedly answered,” he says. He sees my neighbor and gives him a friendly wave, which of course isn’t reciprocated.

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” he says.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say.
———————————————————————————————

Of course I go.

I’m not quite sure which cliche to use. Curiosity got the best of me? It peaked my interest? I wanted to go deeper into the rabbit hole? If he simply told me he has sex with girls, or likes to swing, I would have brushed it off, perhaps even believed it and then not cared. I think it’s more that he was so damn specific about what he was into. Who the fuck would make up an ass-eating fetish? You’re not going to win over the masses with that. So I had to go. I just had to. And I did.

And so when I entered 727 Sycamore, with the expectation of God-knows-what, I was a bit surprised to see a well-decorated, bistro style brick interior, couches and bamboo in every glance. Wait one second, where was the sex dungeon in an inexplicably leaky, abandoned warehouse? I was also surprised to see a young girl, she couldn’t be older than 13, I presumed, sitting on one of these couches, staring at her phone. She looked like she could have been in a Disney movie, not as the lead, but as an extra. Very cute. Freckled face, with a cute slender button nose that curved upward ever so slightly. Brunette. Even though she seemed very young, I did take note of her body, perhaps because I was buttered up to expect something far more perverted when I entered. Her boobs hadn’t fully come in yet, and as skinny as she was up top, she curved out down below well beyond her years. Buttered up, I tell you.

I cleared my throat and that’s when she looked up and deadpanned, “Oh you’re Heather.”

I asked if I was at the right place.

“Yeah,” she said. “My sister’s in the class that what’s-his-face is teaching. I dunno, what is it he teaches you guys?”

I hesitated but told her he was a writer.

“Alright. Well you gotta go up two floors. They started already, I think. Hey, do you know when it’s supposed to end? I don’t know if I should get my charger.”

I told her she should, so she got up and walked to the door.

“See you later, what’s-your-face,” I said.

“Margo,” she said.

There was something about this girl I couldn’t put my finger on. She had to be a young teenager. But she didn’t carry herself like that, swaying her booty as she left the building, as if she was trying to get my attention.

But my attention had to be elsewhere. So I did as Margo suggested and went up to the third floor. I entered and didn’t see anyone, my heart fluttering in anticipation of what I was going to see. I could hear voices coming from a door across the room, so I sauntered over there to the sounds of laughter, my heart still pumping fast, taking a breath, another breath, and I open the door and walked in.

Write what you know, that’s what he said. When you first start writing, you’re supposed to paint a picture, allow the reader to imagine it for themselves. Later on I learned from him that sometimes it’s better to withhold those details in your stories, give your reader the chance to customize it in their own imagination. And while I still do believe that to generally be true, this was not one of those times to withhold the specifics.

Specifically…

A supremely lit room, science-lab fluorescents on the ceiling. Yet the same brick design along the walls. Soft yet strong. A very comfy room, many couches, a few love seats, high-screen tv, throw pillows for all to share. But the centerpiece, a gigantic gray couch, it had to be over 20 feet long. And while the back of the couch was facing me upon entry, those sitting on it weren’t turned away. 8 young women, all naked, all on this couch, facing me directly, sitting on their knees so that their asses are turned away. The sight was immediately overwhelming. But I was feeling ok about it as most of these girls were smiling positivity in my direction. Out of a closet to the left of the couch, a rustling sound was soon matched to a man in that closet. It was him, and he had come out when he heard me close the door behind me.

“Hey there,” he said.

I stood there with my mouth slightly open, not seemingly able to get the words out.

“Girls, this is Heather,” he said.

A chorus of “Heyyy Heather” from the girls softened my gaping mouth, and I managed to finally get out a “hey” in return.

“Heather, why don’t you tell the girls why you’re here today?” he asked.

I smiled. “I…I…”

“Aw, don’t be shy,” said one of these ladies on the couch, a very tan blonde girl.

“I…didn’t believe him when he said he’s into…” But I didn’t want to finish the line.

A tall Indian girl with the most piercing eyes, eyes that competed with each other over how hazel versus how large they were, was quick to respond, “Into what?”

“Into…,” I said.

“Say it,” she said. She was biting her lip and a smaller Indian girl next to her was licking her lips.

I sighed and decided it was time to get over my fears. “Into ass. Eating ass. I found it hard to believe that he’s into eating ass.”

The Indian girls both smiled at me and I heard a slight moan from the tall one and a couple others down the chorus line. One of the girls started grooving her ass behind her a little bit.

“Oh you better fucking believe it,” said the tall Indian girl. She stood up off the couch and motioned to him, as she walked right up to me. The sight of these naked girls in front of me was so overwhelming that I hadn’t even realized that he too was completely naked. And more than that, he was sporting a full-on erection, and I must say, a very sturdy one at that. The tall Indian was so confident in her approach to me that I took a step back–those eyes were beyond intimidating. But she reached her hand out to me.

“My name’s Ananya,” she said.

I shook her hand as she used her other hand to grab his cock.

“In this room, you better get used to believing what you see,” she said. She removed her hand from his cock and stroked a finger on my lip, then spun around backwards and in one smooth move bent over right in front of me, her ass right in my line of sight. Without any words even being exchanged, he seemed to know what to do, as he scooted in between me and her ass, spread her cheeks wide open, and confidently did a single lap of her brown asshole with his tongue.

And right when he did that, she took a finger and sunk it smoothly into her ass, then immediately got up. His tongue was exposed and right near my face, and her finger, just fresh out of her ass, also headed right to my face.

“My name’s Ananya,” she said. “And this is what my ass tastes like.”

I barely had a second to process what was happening, but at the same time, there was something about this girl, something I instantly trusted with her. The thought of being even near that hole, the thought was a disgusting one. Yet in this moment, with this girl and her ass on her finger and his tongue, I suddenly felt the urge to let go, to drop my inhibitions, tear down this wall, loosen up, chill out, insert cliche here, whatever phrase that encapsulated the moment, I wanted to say fuck it and just go with what was happening.

And so I did.

I opened my mouth, closed my eyes, and allowed Ananya’s finger and his tongue to make contact with mine.

And that’s when I tasted it.

He told me to write what I know. Well, this is what I know. That taste. That taste of that girl’s ass was the most surprising and intoxicating taste of my life. It didn’t taste bad in any way whatsoever. It was an earthy musk, like something subtly sweet and saturated at the same time. And it was spicy. Tangy, even. It tasted like an herbal, tangy paste that mixed with pheromones and pussy juice. I mean, hell, I’ve tasted myself before. And it tasted like that, but so much sweeter, so much spicier, so complex, and just so…damn…addicting. Her ass tasted really, really fucking good.

My mouth widened again and the girls on the couch let out a collective laugh. One even said, “Yep that’s about right.”

I looked at Ananya, wide-eyed, mouth still open, but turned up in a smile. She chuckled and returned the smile. “You…like it?” she asked.

It was like I was under hypnosis. I ran behind her and dropped to my knees, her ass now right in front of my face. I grabbed her light ass cheeks and spread them wide open, revealing that dark brown butthole once again. I started to lean towards her, my mouth heading on a collision course with that hole.

But I was rudely interrupted by him, as he pushed me away and stood me up.

“You’re gonna have to wait,” he said. “They’ve been waiting too.”

Ananya gave him a slight sad face and one of the girls said, “Aw come on, just let her try for a second. I wanna see!”

And he looked at her and contemplated. Finally…”Alright, just one quick taste. You wanna taste her ass again?” he asked me.

I nodded my head.

“Then let me give you a real good taste of it,” he said.

He got up behind her, Ananya still standing up, and easily slid his big cock into her ass. She must get fucked in the ass a lot. She didn’t look loose, but it seemed like both him and her knew how to fit together. She moaned slowly as inch-by-inch it went in her. He reached as deep as he could into her, and on cue she grooved her ass just a little against him.

“Fuck, fucking, yes,” she said.

And then he pulled it out. His cock was super wet. It was a fucking dirty cock. I mean, it was just in her ass. No shit, right?

“Doesn’t it look juicy?” asked Ananya.

I agreed with her but couldn’t hide a smirk, as I reflected upon what I had told him about his storytelling the day before.

She looked at me with intent. “But it isn’t ‘juice’, is it?” she asked me.

I got a little flush in my cheeks.

“It’s ok,” she said. “I know. I know what it really is. It isn’t ass juice. It’s my shit. My juicy shit from the depths of my butthole. Let’s be honest, Heather.”

I loosened up and let out a little laugh.

“And know what else is the honest truth, Heather?” she asked. “That you tasted that ass juice of mine. And you’re about to taste it some more.”

She grabbed his cock and stuck it right back in her ass again. “That’s right huh?” she asked him. “You’re gonna fuck me some more, huh?” She held it by the base and used his cock to fuck her ass a few more times real quick. “Uhh uhhh uhhh,” was all she could say.

She pulled it out and pushed me down to my knees. “Now,” she said, “taste it. Taste my ass off of his cock.”

I opened wide and let his spicy-smelling cock sink into my mouth. And just like the minute before, I was reunited with that taste. This time it was even stronger. A tangy, creamy ass paste, super full of herbs, clearly the result of her Indian diet, but it wasn’t foul. It wasn’t dirty tasting, simply warm and gooey. I sucked this earthy goo off of that dick and into my mouth. I started to tear up–not because of the taste, but because I was feeling something with this girl, with Ananya. I couldn’t believe how quick I was to trust her, to connect with her, to be willing to get to this level of intimacy with someone I knew for mere seconds. As I swallowed this wonderful herbal concoction in my mouth, I stood up, grabbed Ananya by the cheeks, and embraced her in a passionate kiss, one where we swapped the tastes of her most intimate being.

We parted lips. “Mmmm, you like the taste of my ass juice, huh Heather? You like to taste my shit, don’t you Heather?”

“I’m so jealous!” said a beautiful black girl with the most gorgeous black curls. Ananya put a finger in her ass, pulled it out, and went down the line of girls, letting each swipe a taste with their tongue as she passed by. When she got to the black girl she put the finger back in her ass and gave it to the girl to eat.

The black girl engulfed her finger with her beautiful lips, thick but small at the same time. She groaned as she sucked the finger, and finally said, “Thank you, baby.”

“Of course Deisha,” said Ananya, as she finished walking down the line and returned to her position on the couch.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to introduce you to everyone, Heather. Time for a proper introduction.”

As he guided me to the line of girls, starting first at the opposite end of Ananya and her Indian friend, I reached out my hand to shake a super cute girl, Caucasian, with a chubby face but a pretty slender body. She wore her brunette hair somewhat short, with thick bangs. Her particularly rosy cheeks gave me the impression that she was Scandinavian. I remember watching a porn with a very unique-looking girl, a pornstar by the name of Yhivi. She reminded me of her.

But as I reached out my hand, he stopped me in my tracks, once again.

“I said a proper introduction.”

He took me by the hand and walked me around the couch so that I was now facing all of the asses, not the faces. He smiled at me and got down on his knees in front of the girl with the bangs. As he grabbed her peachy ass cheeks and pulled them apart, I was greeted with a sight of a particularly dark butthole. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and did a single, slow, sensual lap of her asshole. Upon swallowing the taste, he turned to me and said, “This is Elisa.”

Elisa turned her head toward me and gave me a smile, and as I reached my hand out again, his eyes demanded that I do it differently. And boy, I was ready. After Ananya, I was certain that any semblance of a stigma in my head had been pulverized. I shook her hand anyway, but then dropped to my knees and followed his pattern. I opened my mouth, let my tongue dangle out, and I leaned into Elisa and gave her asshole a supremely slow, single lick. She didn’t taste spicy, like Ananya. There was a hint of flowers to her taste, a very subtle taste at that. Otherwise, it simply tasted clean, like her skin. I finished my lick and finally said, “Nice to meet you Elisa.”

We shifted on our knees a couple feet to the left.

I was now greeted by a very different ass, one very tan, one that had to have been in the sun on a weekly basis. And belonging to that tan ass was a Caucasian girl with blonde hair and even blonder highlights. As he opened up her ass, I saw a very pink asshole, one that had been bleached, and trimmed, and treated like a princess.

“Dana,” he said, this time flittering his tongue on and around her asshole. Dana giggled.

“Nice to meet your ass,” I said to Dana before diving in.

Shifting again, this time to Deisha. The sight of her ass was truly beautiful. Her skin was a supremely dark brown, and I mean supremely. She was pretty damn close to actually having “black” skin. Yet as he opened up her ass cheeks, that dark brown skin she sported was overshadowed by an even darker butthole. After he tasted her, he turned to me and said, “You really gotta meet her.”

“Yeah, you do,” said Deisha, wiggling her ass at me. “Meet me Heather, meet my dirty dirty asshole.”

Deisha was a fun one, no doubt. I began to lean in towards her butthole, taking in the aroma. She smelled different than the other girls. Her scent was hard to pinpoint, but her skin had a smoky scent to it. I got my tongue ready and took one big lap of her winking butthole. And oh my, it was a tangy taste. Tang dominated everything I could sense. It was a powerful flavor, a mix of ass and her natural skin, dancing together to make a taste both powerful and intoxicating. I couldn’t help it, I groaned after I licked. No, more accurately, I grunted. Her taste just brought it out of me.

“Fuck it,” I said, as I broke protocol and dove back into her ass crack, licking and lapping her asshole, up and up and up. Deisha yelped and cooed my name back to me. A girl further down the line said, “Heather’s got good taste!” Everyone laughed.

Except for me. I was too busy. Something about Deisha’s taste, it made me so fucking horny. I spread her hole open, to try to get a peak inside. I turned to him and said, “Thanks to your story, I got this idea.” I proceeded to sink my tongue into that opened asshole. It was a tight entry, but I got my tongue up against one wall of the inside part of her asshole. I really got in there and licked up what I could get.

“Man, you make me want to get in there so bad,” he said. “She’s tasty, huh?”

I pulled my tongue out, now coated in her juices. I nodded positively.

I continued to work my way down the line, next to a very pretty brunette girl with a bubbly freckled ass. Before she even turned her head to me, I knew who it was. I told her I had met Margo, when all of a sudden he broke out in some pretty loud expletives.

“I forgot about her!” he said.

Margo’s sister, Mandy, said that she’d be fine downstairs.

“But what if she comes up, or gets bored? She thinks I’m tutoring you guys.” And as the other girls, especially Mandy, tried to calm him down, he seemed to want to hear none of it. He threw on his clothes, grabbed his phone, and headed out the door. “I’ll figure this out. I’ll be back in just a few.”

He closed the door behind him and the room had a moment of silence before Deisha broke out with, “He’s so fucking cool.”

She opened the floodgates of conversation as the girls couldn’t stop talking about him. I was still behind Mandy, just sort of taking it all in, not wanting to impose upon their camaraderie. A lull in the discussion happened, and Mandy turned back to me.

“We haven’t met yet!” she exclaimed.

“Huh? Oh…OH!” I said. “Let me take care of that.”

I pulled those freckled cheeks apart and discovered a freckled little butthole, one with a little hair on it. I leaned in and was actually taken aback by a supremely potent smell, one that, admittedly, wasn’t the sexiest. But I looked at the other girls and they all looked back at me with a “you’re right to react that way” kind of face. To my surprise, Mandy was making the same face.

“He calls me the ‘control’,” she said. She smiled. “Says my ass is the way asses are supposed to taste. No sugar here, sugar.”

I liked Mandy. She definitely owned it. And even though her smell was pretty dirty, her taste was much more tolerable.

Ananya stood up off the couch and headed towards us. “You know what that means, right Heather? You know what she means when she says her ass tastes the way an ass is supposed to, right?”

“I…yeah, I think I got it,” I said.

Ananya scooted up to Mandy, opened her cheeks and looked to me, saying, “It means her asshole tastes like shit, Heather. Like a nasty, dirty shit. Cuz it’s from her ass.” And on cue, she lapped up that hairy asshole, slurping and sucking and tongue fucking like a total fiend.

“Oh my gawd Annie, you’re fucking crazy,” said the Indian girl who was next to her.

“You’ve eaten too much ass, girl,” said a Latina girl who was next to Mandy. “Good thing we love you for it!”

Ananya stood up and smiled, going up to the Latina and stroking her cheek. “I can never get enough of eating your ass, Zoe.” Ananya motioned for me to move down the line.

Zoe was absolutely gorgeous. I don’t really know how else to put it. Her curves were insane, like out of a comic book. A natural light brown glow emanated from her, a supremely well-oiled and taken-care-of skin. Her face was truly stunning, and just like the rest of her body, was very well groomed and taken-care-of. Zoe twerked her gigantic yet perfectly round booty as I approached. I could hear a smushing noise as her wetness on her holes smacked against her skin.

“I’m so horny, baby,” she said to me. “You gonna take care of this ass?”

I went in and took a huge lap, then spanked her. She twerked some more.

“Baby, aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Zoe.

I took another lap of her asshole, then went down to her pussy and started going at her clit. Zoe moaned.

“Oooh baby, that’s nice, but that’s not what I’m saying.”

Zoe stood up, stood me up, and pulled my shirt off. “We wanna taste you, baby.”

A collection of hands from various directions started helping me take everything off, piece by piece. I was nervously excited as someone slid down my panties to the floor. But then the thought hit me. I’d never been ‘tasted’ down there. What if I was gross? I thought about Mandy, about how she was the ‘most real’ tasting of the group, but even her taste wasn’t that bad. These girls were candy, they were all into the same thing, and probably chosen by him for a good reason. He knew what he was doing. He knew what he wanted to taste. He knew what asses were for him. I was just a random girl he was tutoring. What would put me on this pedestal with these other hotties? A panic started to overwhelm me.

I tried to slow down the hands but in no time I was completely naked. “But…but,” I said.

“Don’t worry baby,” said Zoe. “We know.”

I groaned. “I don’t wanna ruin your fun! What if I’m disgusting?”

Ananya took me by the hand. “The first time he tasted my ass,” she said, “I had no more than a few seconds to realize he was going to do that. And you know what happened a few seconds after that?”

“What?”

“He was tongue-fucking my asshole like he crawled through a desert and there was an oasis of water in there.” Deisha burst out laughing.

“Fun fact,” said Deisha, “there actually was an oasis in there.”

Ananya smiled. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “I think the real question is, who is going to get the first taste?”

Who did I want to do it? My initial thought was Mandy, because if she was the most familiar with a dirty butthole, maybe she’d be able to handle the who-knows-what quality of mine. But Ananya herself made a lot of sense too. She seemed like the dirtiest-minded of them all.

That was pretty diplomatic of me. Let me be a bit more precise…

She easily, by a long-fucking-shot, was the dirtiest minded of them all. Nevertheless, it was so hard to decide. A kid in a candy store. They were all so sexy, and so open-minded. It felt like I really couldn’t go wrong with my choice. Elisa, Dana, Deisha, Mandy, Zoe, Ananya…

Ananya’s Indian friend seemed like she was interested…

Then I made eye contact with the one girl I hadn’t even heard from yet. She was short, a little bit taller than Ananya’s friend, a lush of reddish-brown hair. She projected intelligence. Her glasses definitely solidified that image, as did her strong forehead. Some freckles on her face, and on the rest of her body. But what really kept me eye-locked with her was that ass of hers, like a gymnast’s…super fit but bubbly at the same time. For a Caucasian girl, I was amazed at how that ass jutted out from her very fit midsection, only to jut back in as it converged with her equally fit thighs below.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

The word “Hermione” poured of her mouth, carried by an absolutely elegant posh British accent, undulating across a field of energy and reconnecting with clarity into my ear.

“You mean like?–“

“Yes my love, like her,” she said.

Deisha turned to me and gave me a high five. “Fucking great choice. You just picked our sexy little scientist.”

Zoe gave a little clap. “This is perfect, we’re gonna get to know exactly the way you taste.”

“EXACTLY!” said Dana, with a giggle.

I turned to Hermione and gave a smile, and she reciprocated with the slightest side smile. She really did project a confident intelligence about her.

“No one can pinpoint like Hermione,” said Elisa. “She’s our, how do you say, sommelier?”

“Sommelier of ass,” said the short Indian girl. “Um, guys, not to kill this love-fest, but aren’t we forgettin’ somethin’ ya?”

“Oh shit Nava, I’m sorry,” said Ananya. “Ok I got it. Nava, get on all fours along this end of the couch. Heather, get behind her, same position, but in the middle. And Hermione, you get the rear.”

“Don’t worry ladies I’ll get it,” Hermione said to thunderous applause and laughter.

My heart starting pumping faster again. I took my proper position behind Nava, but was still so damn nervous as I leaned over my shoulder to see Hermione gathering herself behind me.

“Meet Nava first,” said Ananya.

I took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. “Nice to,” I said, as I lapped up the ass of a cute Indian girl, “meet you, Nava.” Her taste did indeed remind me of Ananya’s, but far less spicy. It was more like Elisa’s subtle sweetness, but with a stronger herbal tang, like her Indian friend.

But my playtime with Nava’s tasty butt was completely overshadowed as I watched Hermione behind me. She put her warm freckled hands on my cheeks, and I could feel a draft of wind as she opened my ass up from behind. I heard a chorus of oooohs and aaaahs from the rest of the girls, all of which were surrounding the back end of the couch, leaning it for a peak of my backside.

“Goodness, that is absolutely splendid,” said Hermione. “My favorite!”

My face scrunched with curiosity as I pointed out that she hadn’t tasted me yet.

“No no, I know, my dear,” said Hermione. “It’s your look. Your jet black hair contrasts so beautifully with your untanned white skin. No offense, Dana.”

“Offense taken,” said a sarcastic Dana.

“And so when I do this,” said Hermione, as she spread open my ass cheeks and as I giggled as a slight gust of wind tickled me down there, “it’s brilliant to see such a pale light ass reveal a much darker asshole within. Your dirtiness is so blatant with the contrast of colors.”

I panicked. “So I’m dirty?”

“Oh dear, no,” she said. “You’re shaven, you look clean. It’s just that the skin immediately circumventing your asshole, just like all of our assholes, is darker. But contrasted against a canvas of such white skin, it reminds me of a bullseye. A naughty little bullseye that whispers, ‘here’s my naughtiest part’. But that’s the best, the absolute best on a pale Caucasian with dark hair. The contrast is more stark than with anyone else.”

Deisha mimicked a stenographer’s motions. “Do you need me to record this, Hermione? For science?” she said, quickly transitioning into a hearty laugh.

“I would very much like that, Deisha,” said Hermione. “But I have some more pressing issues at hand. Are you ready my dear?”

I wasn’t. But with how much ass I had eaten, and with how much I was certain there was to come, I figured it didn’t particularly matter how ready I really was. As I actually felt a moment of confidence regarding that realization, I was snapped into a much starker reality as I felt the oddest sensation of a wet, smooth tongue lick me right in the place I would have never expected to be licked. It was a crazy sensation, an amalgam of feelings. I felt a tickle as I experienced skin-to-skin contact, a wave of hotness from Hermione’s warm mouth, a familiarity to using a wet-wipe, but a pervading sexual feeling that sent waves of pleasure from my asshole down to my pussy and then to the rest of my body. It was a complex feeling. And I was instantly happy to receive it. All of it.

“Oh my,” said Hermione. I turned around slightly to see her put her thumb against my butthole and press, only to quickly remove it and suck away at that thumb. “Ladies, I think it doesn’t require many words to tell you that you will be happy with this one.”

I wanted to believe her, and I really should have, but it was hard to know for sure. Maybe she was just saying that to make me feel good. But I started to believe it a bit more the second after, as she went back in and gave me a secondary wave of that sophistication of pleasure on my ass.

“There’s quite a lot to say here,” said Hermione, as she licked her lips. “The synopsis is that she’s a subtle flavor. Her taste can be defined equally by what it is and what it isn’t. What it isn’t is tangy. Not acidic. No spice. The depth isn’t in her potency, but rather by hints.”

“Hints. Got it,” said Deisha.

“And, my word, what it is, I must say, is quite remarkable. It is nutrient-rich. And rich, literally, too. There is a saturated earthiness to her ass. But while many asses will leave a hint in aroma that they are indeed, asses, this one doesn’t seem to have that.” Hermione leaned into me and sniffed around. “There is virtually no smell of that same earthiness. It’s all in the flavor and the texture, which itself has a grittiness, a sandiness to it.”

“Hints of sand. Got it,” said Deisha.

Hermione leaned back into me and I felt her lips suction onto me with a tremendous force. I was experiencing a balancing act between a tickling sensation and one of pure sexual pleasure. It was pretty fucking amazing to dance between both of those feelings. She finally pulled away.

“Brilliant,” said Hermione. “This ass, is absolutely addicting. You see, the subtle flavors that linger afterward are a slight sugar-sweetness, and an earthiness that doesn’t have the smell to match. So it feels almost like you get a taste of sweet grass, and the cows aren’t nearby, so to speak.”

“Girl, sometimes your descriptions…,” said Zoe.

“The cows aren’t nearby, that’s nasty,” said Nava. I gave her a little reminder that I was still behind her with a quick little lap.

“Makes sense to me,” said Ananya. “We are animals after all. Filthy, nasty, dirty animals, at least in some places.”

I could hear Deisha behind me scoffing. “Girls, some of you be trippin’. Now don’t get me wrong, I love ass as much as the next girl here. But come on, sweet grass? Let me get in this.”

Suddenly I felt some particularly voluminous lips make contact with my butthole, and that familiar suctioning feeling that Hermione provided mere seconds ago was back, propagating a sensation that originated in my ass and permeated to every other region of my body.

“Holy shit,” said Deisha. “This girl’s ass tastes like sweet ass grass. I can’t fucking believe it. Sweet grass Heather.”

Without warning the waves amplified. I was getting it non-stop, the other girls were taking turns at my ass, a barrage of tongues and lips and suctioning and slurping and slippery wetness engulfing my ass and sending me over the top. I was cumming. And it was beyond a recognition. It was only pleasure, my mind had no sensibility to process any of it. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I was moaning uncontrollably as the girls kept taking turns, tasting my asshole and sending me through an endless loop of ecstasy. I couldn’t remember how long it lasted. I just remember the feeling, and then my body collapsed on the couch and I was in a therapeutic lull of satisfaction. At some point after that, I heard a rustling at the door. I managed to slowly pick myself up.

There he stood, locking the door behind him.

“Mandy, I took care of it,” he said. “She’s got pizza coming to her and a Lyft if the ‘class’ goes past 11, which of course, it will. I emphasized that you aren’t to be bothered. She took it…well, I guess? Hard to read.”

“Cool,” she said.

“That girl, man,” he said.

“Tell me about it,” said Mandy.

“She’s–nevermind, it doesn’t even matter, not here nor there,” he said. “Ladies,” he continued, as he ripped off his shirt, dropped his jeans to the floor, slipped off his boxers and sprung forth an impressive erection, seemingly just as hard if not harder than before, then undoubtedly harder as he made eye contact with the action in front of him and the sight of Hermione licking her fingers and signaling to him an implied message without words…

“Ladies…it’s time to start fucking some asses.”

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