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xmag.com : January 2002: Muscular Ass

I awoke this morning with a foul, filmy taste in my mouth. It was the taste of your ass from last night. And I looked over at you, asleep and smiling from the ace rimjob I'd given you before we dozed off, and I felt resentful.
You never eat my ass anymore, and I'm getting upset about it.
In the early days, your tongue was like a plumber's snake unclogging my colon. Back then, we savored each other's intestinal effluvium like two lovers feeding each other black olives on a picnic blanket. We shared each other's asses. We shared each other's dreams.
These days, you wouldn't go near my ass even if I stuffed a fried pork chop between my buttocks. When I ask you to eat my ass nowadays, you just shrug and say you'll "think about it." You avoid my mudflaps as if there were Yosemite Sam "BACK OFF!" insignia emblazoned on them. Truth be told, there is no "EXIT ONLY" sign affixed to my derriere. My ass'd welcome the gentle, probing presence of a caring, loving tongue. But all of a sudden, you have no appetite.
You're very selfish, that's what I think. If I had a nickel for every time I ate your ass and you didn't eat mine, I could pay off the national debt. Relation-ships should be about sharing, but right now you're only sharing your ass, and I'm only sharing my tongue. Love isn't a one-way street; ass-eating shouldn't be, either. There is no reciprocity in our ass-eating, no sense of fairness. Our relationship's anal inequities push me to the brink of tears. My neglected rectum cries out for some cuddlin'.

Where I come from, when someone does you a favor, it's a matter of courtesy to return it. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. You eat my ass, I'll eat yours. It's a matter of basic fairness and human dignity. But maybe I'm from the old school.

"You never eat my ass anymore, and I'm
getting upset about it."

My parents didn't have this problem. They licked each other's asses like it was going out of style. Like ass-eating was on sale. Like they got a tax deduction for doing it.
People in the movies don't have these problems, either. You see a happy
couple up on the big screen, and you assume they're licking each other's asses, no questions asked.
I've looked at my ass in the mirror. It's a nice ass. I've held a hand mirror right up to my bunghole, and frankly I don't see what's so horrifying that you'd avoid it like you do. What's so disgusting about my ass that you won't eat it out every once in a blue moon? I always use the scented lotions and male douches, so offensive tastes or odors shouldn't be a problem. Would it kill you to eat
my ass every once in a while? I mean, would it put that much of a crimp in
your evening?
From now on, you can lick your own ass, you asshole! Believe me, your ass isn't all that tasty sometimes. It ain't always a cinnamon roll, ya hear me, honey? Your ass isn't as great as you think it is, I'll tell you that. I've seen better. I've licked better. So don't go getting an attitude with me.
I'm just asking for a little consideration. Lick my ass every once in a while, alright? My ass doesn't have teeth. It won't bite your tongue off. The occasional anal 69 would really put the spark back in our love life.
Not everyone you meet out there's gonna be as happy to munch on your fat ass as I am. And that's what bugs me--your ass is flabby, and yet I graciously eat it, while my muscular ass is the very picture of a perfect posterior, yet it sits alone and uneaten.
You just watch--I'll go out there and fall in love with the first person willing to lick my tushie. One day I'll be rolling in clover, my new lover's tongue gleefully lapping at my tuchis, while your stinky butt sits home alone, as lonely as my ass is now. My sphincter will be wet and happy, while yours languishes in limbo, unlicked and forlorn.





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