For guys who work on cars, the term sleeper is a familiar one. It refers to a car that looks pretty tame but packs a lot of power and performance. Like my ‘72 Chevy Nova. You’ve probably seen suped up Novas before—super fat tires, jacked-up rear, chrome wheels, hood intakes, dual exhausts, etc. etc. There’s as much emphasis on the appearance of the car as there is on performance, often more so. My Nova is as fast as a stock Ferrari, but unlike those gaudy funny cars, it looks pretty much the way it did when it came out of the factory, which makes it look like an old family car now.

I love driving this car on the road, because it rarely draws much attention, but when I want to, I can blow anything else off the pavement. Not bad for a car that was built when I was 1… For as long as I’ve owned the car (I bought it three years ago), no one has driven it but me. After all the work I put into this car, turning it into a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I definitely don’t want anyone else behind the wheel.

Missy changed all that. To me she was just another girl I worked with, but she turned out to be a bit of a sleeper herself. I call her a girl because she seems so young to me at 23. I work for a medium-sized real estate company where we have an overwhelming majority of women, most of them in their 20s. Some of them are very hot, and I’ve made a point in dating every new pretty skirt that walks through our front door.

When I met Missy about six months ago, she was immediately heaped into the too average to pursue bin by my mercurial evaluating skills. I noticed right away that she had a nice rack: average size but with unusually nice shape. But with pinned back hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and meager amounts of makeup on her rather mousy face she seemed more like a little sister to me, or maybe a librarian. I know, I know, it’s so cliché: a librarian-type who turns out to be some hot babe, but you had to see this girl. She was borderline frumpy, save for those magnificent breasts.

Still, being the eternal flirt, I struck up conversation with her whenever we were together, in a conference room or in the cafeteria at the office park where we worked. She smiled and laughed easily, and I concluded that she was sort of cute after all. Besides, stealing glimpses at that sweet cleavage was always a lot of fun. She struck me as secretly proud of her breasts, because the v-neck tops she seemed to favor were a little incongruous with the rest of her rather boring, conservative dress.

I’ve found you sometimes have to be careful with girls who come across like Missy, because they always seem to take dating and what not so seriously. I decided that although I found Missy mildly attractive, I was not going to ask her out. I was perfectly satisfied to just flirt with her and hang out with her occasionally. We became pretty good friends, and even though I wasn’t dating her (or was it because?), I probably spent more time with her at work than any other woman.

Eventually, I asked her very casually to join me for lunch sometime in the office park cafeteria. Missy’s casual acceptance set my mind at ease that she did not interpret my invitation as any sort of date or overture. We agreed to go to lunch the next day, because she was busy that day and would be running errands at lunch. Frankly, after the plans were made I almost immediately forgot about them.

I was so swamped with work that day, programming our web-site with new real estate listings, that I almost blew her off when Missy called around the noon hour. I was just getting set to tell her that I was too busy and that I would have to work through lunch, when I thought better of it and decided that a break really would be a good idea. We agreed I would meet her at her cubicle.

I spent about 10 minutes or so on my work before I finally grabbed my jacket and started heading to her cubicle to pick her up. It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen her all day as I walked the hallway toward her cubicle. When I got there, Missy looked pretty much the way she always did, with that amazing neckline, and maybe a touch more makeup than I was used to seeing on her.

’Bout time, butthead! she teased, and grabbed a leather jacket I hadn’t ever seen her wear before.

Nice jacket, Missy, I said, New?

Nah, got it a few years ago. Let’s go, she said as she threw the jacket over her shoulders and slipped it on.

The jacket somehow totally changed her appearance. It was a short jacket that came to just above her hips, and she had to pull her sweater up a little so it wouldn’t stick out underneath. I got a quick peek at her stomach as she adjusted the sweater, and I was mildly surprised at how smooth her skin looked and how flat her belly was. Somehow that black leather jacket really seemed to accentuate how small her waist was and made her hips look just perfect.

Briefly taken aback, I cleared my head of this unexpected surprise from Missy, and stepped back from her cubicle entrance to allow her to walk ahead of me. Then I was introduced to what would be a much more major shock. I was looking at Missy’s jacket when my eye was drawn down almost involuntarily to her backside for what must have been the very first time. Now this is very unusual for me, because I absolutely adore the female ass and it’s usually one of the first things I check out. So I can only conclude that I must have written Missy off too quickly when I first met her and just never looked at it. Missy is a relatively small girl, standing maybe 5’2 or 5’3 and probably not weighing much more than a 100 pounds. Her clothes easily obscured her physique, and this was the first time I was getting a peak at what she really looked like. What I found is that she has very exaggerated curves, and I was shocked at how seductive her gait looked as she walked in front of me. Each cheek would ball up into a near perfect sphere at the top of what seemed to be smoothly muscled athletic legs. Missy, it turned out, had just about the prettiest ass I have ever seen. Wow! How could I have missed THAT, I thought!

I literally felt a little faint-hearted as I stared at her gorgeous derriere, and berated myself for seeming to lose control. What the fuck was going on? This is Missy, I thought, MISSY! Calm down! Damn, get a hold of yourself! To distract myself, I said, So uh, where do you want to go to lunch?

I thought we were going to the cafeteria across the way, she said, looking over her shoulder back at me. Suddenly she stopped and turned to me. What’s wrong with you?

Huh? What? I stammered. Then I regained my composure. Nothing. What are you talking about?

I don’t know, she said, You’re acting really strange. She paused and looked right into my eyes for a moment. Never mind, she continued, shaking her head dismissively. Do you want to eat somewhere else? We don’t have to go to the cafeteria, you know.

Yeah, let’s go to TGI Friday’s. I don’t even know why I suggested that. I was so distracted. Friday’s is at the local mall, no more than 5 minutes away.

OK, that’s cool. You want me to drive? Wait! You know what? I’ll drive, but let me drive YOUR car, which I’ve heard so much about!

Now normally, I would have laughed at such a suggestion. Like I said, no one else drives my car, since it is practically religion to me. But I’d just seen a side of Missy I’d never seen before if you know what I mean, and without letting on how much of an honor this really was coming from me, I just tossed her my keys and said, OK.

Missy had never seen my car before, so as we approached it, she looked at me uncertainly and asked, Is that it?

Don’t let first impressions fool you, I said, and pondered the irony of that statement as I purposely trailed behind her to watch her walk toward the car. Goddamn her ass looked good! I just wanted to bite those sweet cheeks, just kneel down behind her and start running my—

Dammit, Frank, are you going to get in the car or just stand there staring at it? she laughed.

Shit! Did she catch me?

Oh. Yeah, right, I said, and walked over to the other side of the car and waited for her to open the door from inside.

When we got in the car, she pushed the keys in the ignition and then stopped suddenly.

Are you sure you’re alright? Is anything bothering you?

No, I’m just stressed from work, I covered, and prayed she would just drop it and start the fucking car.

Luckily she did, and we were on our way. We chatted normally as she drove, and I realized vaguely that I was still a little too absorbed with her ass to be worried about my car. We quickly discovered that we have absolutely no overlap in our tastes in music, but we both have a special place for movies. Still, I was tense, and trying to adjust to these latest revelations regarding my mousy little female friend.

When we sat down at the restaurant, I found having her across a table facing me somehow a little more relaxing. Her chest seemed more alluring than ever, but at least I wasn’t being confronted by that candy-like ass. Still I found myself watching her lips in a whole new way while she ate. We chatted and joked and made fun of each other, and on the surface things almost seemed to go back to the way they were before. But the reality was they hadn’t, even if she was completely unaware of any change. My view of Missy had been fundamentally altered, and I surprised myself as we were walking back into the building at work by asking Missy out.

Are you serious? she said doubtfully. What do you want to do? I guess up until just before lunch I had read her as the type who would be very excited to be asked out, but she merely seemed surprised, and nonplussed at that. So many of my impressions of her had been shattered in a mere 90 minutes!

I don’t know, let’s go to a movie or something. How about Friday?

OK, she said noncommittally. Could be fun. Talk to you later. She turned and started toward her cubicle. I stood and watched her walk away, and then a curious thing happened just before she turned the corner that lead back to her desk. She turned back and looked at me, and her face had a peculiar, almost knowing, look to it. I paused for a moment as she disappeared around the corner, then decided it must just be my imagination.

Frankly, I felt stunned and somewhat puzzled as I wandered back to my desk and pondered the seemingly magical transformation Missy had just undergone in my mind. I never did get back to concentrating on work again that day, and I found myself masturbating myself to sleep over this surprising girl over the next few nights leading up to our date.

Finally, Friday came and I called her late in the afternoon to ask when I should come pick her up, and to get directions to her place. This time she seemed surprised by my call, and it became evident that she had forgotten all about it.

Um, sorry, Frank, she stalled, I sort of have plans tonight. I’m sorry, I just forgot all about it! How about tomorrow night instead?

I was so startled that she would actually turn me down, I forgot all about already having a date with that new receptionist tomorrow night.

OK, I answered, a little too fast. Damn! What the fuck was wrong with me?

OK, she parroted, almost mocking me, and then gave me directions to her apartment and set a time. As I hung up the phone, I realized my hands had gotten just a little sweaty…

Saturday night finally arrived and I picked Missy up at her apartment. From what I could see the place looked good, if a bit messy, but I didn’t get a chance to see much—she opened the door, slipped out and closed the door behind her without inviting me in. By now, it should have been obvious to me that my initial impressions of Missy were way off base, and yet I was still taken aback by the way she looked that night. She wore much more makeup than I’ve seen her ever wear at work, and the trademark horn-rimmed glasses were apparently retired for the evening. I had to concede I had totally underestimated how pretty she actually is. In fact, at that moment the word gorgeous kept coming to mind. I was numbed into silence as she turned around to lock the door.

Holy shit!, I thought. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans and that infamous black leather jacket. She looked so hot! Her waist was tiny and that ass, oh God, that ass! I couldn’t believe it, but I literally felt a little faint! Before I could recover, she turned back away from the door. This time she caught me dead-to-rights staring at her ass, and I took a step back as if in fear of a physical blow.

But Missy was full of surprises, and she seemed to pretend that she didn’t notice. But I KNEW she did; she HAD to have. I puzzled over this as we walked out to my car and made small talk. It’s a funny thing trying to concentrate enough on even the lightest of conversation when all you can seem to think about is burying your face in the other person’s ass…

What’s wrong? she said suddenly, yanking me out of my delirium.

What? I tried to cover.

You have that same look on your face again, like the other day at lunch. What the hell is going on with you? As if she might be bored by the response, she continued almost without pause, Never mind. We’re late.

But when we got out to the car, she brought the topic up again.

Something’s going on with you, Frankie… she started. She like to call me Frankie when she was teasing me. It was a nickname she made up for me last Halloween when I came to a party dressed as Frankenstein’s monster; she knew it annoyed me. Still, her tone was neutral, and since this time I was driving, I really couldn’t look at her face to read her.

I decided it was best to come clean. Well sort of, anyway.

I guess I’m a little surprised at how you look. I’m not used to it.

Is that a good thing?

Oh yeah! I said, then caught myself before (hopefully) my over-enthusiasm was too obvious. I mean, you look great! I guess it’s your glasses or something.

Or something, huh, she said, with just a hint of sarcasm, like maybe my ASS? She sat in silence while I thought of what to say, then she burst out into hysterical laughter. I saw you staring at it, Frank. I caught you last Tuesday at lunch!

I don’t know what to say, Missy! I’m sorry. You look incredible though, and it’s not just your, I felt strangely shy about my language now, backside…

Well, thank you, Missy said with amusement and a hint of pride, but it’s OK. I’m used to it. Guys are always staring at my ass. It’s not like I’m an ugly duckling or anything—some guys have even told me they think I’m beautiful—but it’s old news to find a guy drooling over my ass. Her chuckle exuded happy ease.

The amazing transformation of Missy in my mind that started last Tuesday with lunch, seemed to be progressing in leaps and bounds. This girl who I had written off as a plain-jane who would never be more than ‘just a friend’, suddenly seemed to have my complete attention. Dating is often a power-struggle, with who wants who more and all that, and right now, Missy had definitely gained the upper hand, I thought. Damn, I didn’t even look at her as a potential date four days ago!

You like that, huh? I said, trying to regain a cool composure and not let this power-struggle turn into a rout! What a laugh! I had never been in a situation like this before; I was ALWAYS the one in control.

Of course! she said, her breezy self-confidence contrasting so greatly with how I had had her relegated before. I love it! What girl doesn’t like wiping the occasional pool of saliva off her ass? It’s proof that girls are basically superior to guys…

The challenge in her voice was so seductive. Nice ass be damned, though, I still had pride.

Oh yeah? How do you figure that?

Oh come on! she laughed, I can tell by the way you guys stare at me that you would all LOVE to kiss my ass. I don’t think I ever met a guy who didn’t want to. A girl only needs to know how to use that to her advantage, and she can have just about any guy she wants eating out of the palm of her hand, or anywhere else for that matter. Only a woman can hold power like that. Her tone seemed to turn serious as she spoke.

I felt my face blanch involuntarily as she spoke, especially when she said the phrase kiss my ass. The mental image of it caused an erection to start to sprout almost immediately. To tell you the truth, it was humiliating. As if my hard-on proved her every word.

You think every guy you meet wants to kiss your ass? I said with a very mixed feeling of both indignation and arousal. She might be right, but her outright arrogance about it seemed incredible to me. Part of me was thinking, what a stuck-up bitch, but another part of me felt a little like I couldn’t win this point if she was right, and she was. I imagine those who hated Muhammad Ali in the ‘60s must have felt something similar, though less erotic, I hope.

Well, yes, I do. If a girl is pretty and knows how to play her cards right, she can have men eating out of her hand. Twisted right around her little pinky, she said holding up the finger as if to prove the point. Want to hear a confession?

OK…

I made a guy drink my piss once.

What?!? Are you serious?? I couldn’t believe my ears. My cock got incredibly hard even though I was genuinely disgusted.

Yeah, well see I went on a date with this guy, and I didn’t really like him much. He was falling all over me all night, and you know if there’s no challenge… …well it just kinda turns me off, y’know?

I was completely dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe she was telling me this, let alone that it happened.

Anyway, we went clubbing and we were drinking and I got pretty toasted, and we’re driving back from the club and I had to go REALLY bad. But he wouldn’t pull over — we were on the Parkway, and I kept saying, ‘Dude, I really have to go, stop!’ but he just said there was no place to stop. Well I had a water bottle in the car, and I opened the window and dumped all the water out, then I pulled down my pants and put the bottle down there and I just went right in it.

Holy shit… I muttered.

He looks over at me in like total shock like he can’t believe I just pulled my pants down and pissed in a bottle in his car. I didn’t care, man I really had to go. I didn’t even care that he got to see me you know, taking a leak in a bottle. Anyway, the water bottle was one of those big 20 or 24 ounce bottles, and I totally filled it up, and I was like ‘damn, that’s a lot of piss, I filled the bottle!’

How’d you keep from spilling it?

I just shimmied up to the edge of the seat and then lifted up my hips and put the bottle right up against myselft and let go. I thought it was hysterical. And so I turn to him with this bottle of piss in my hand and I say ‘look, I filled this bottle’ and he looks over at the bottle like it’s nitroglycerin or something, and I just said ‘drink it!’ And he says, ‘what?’ and I said, ‘drink it!’ and I hand him the bottle. I was just yanking his chain you know, but damned if he didn’t take that bottle and put it to his lips and take a long swig! Oh my God I loved it!! What a fucking rush!

He drank your piss…

Yep, and I just said drink some more, and I just stared at him while he takes this bottle and takes another gulp. And then I said, drink all of it, drink my piss. And you know what? He did! He emptied that bottle. Blew my mind! The guy was a freak but I loved it.

Damn, Missy! Who pissed in your corn flakes? I was a little irritated now, but I couldn’t figure out if it was with her or me. This whole date thing was beginning to look like a bad idea. Did some guy burn you or something? Why are you so down on men?

Whoa there, killer, she said, amusement returning to her voice, don’t get your panties into a bunch! I’ve never been ‘burned’, and I’m not down on men at all. I love men. They have their place. I just think they are inherently inferior. Most men would worship at a girl’s feet if she wanted it and knew how to get it.

Every time she said something, it seemed to make my ears burn. I found her humor condescending.

Women are dominated by men all the time, I said, It goes both ways.

Not really, she said smugly, not if the woman knows what she’s doing, and knows what she wants. Frankie, you are just so used to running into girls who will fall at your feet, you’re not used to one who knows how to handle herself — and men.

And, I suppose, you do?

Well, I think the story illustrates that, doesn’t it? I know how to get my ass kissed when I want it, she said. This time I turned my head so I could see the smile on her face. She was so transparent, so genuine, so honest, it was, well scary. It seemed that she wasn’t trying to get a rise out of me, she had no axe to grind, no agenda to pursue; I could see it in the simple unaffected way she returned my incredulous stare, and that made her all the scarier.

Unfortunately, I guess I was just as transparent.

Oh, don’t worry about it Frank. You’ve got no problem with women. I hear about you all the time in the Ladies Room. The mock sincerity and genuineness of her concern was annoying. Then she added, Besides, I won’t make you kiss my ass… Her voice, full of humor at first, suddenly trailed off as though she’d changed her mind about adding some clause to that, like unless I feel like it or maybe right away or maybe even before dinner.

What was she going to say?? It was driving me crazy. I stole a glance at her. She was looking straight ahead now, and she licked her lips almost as though she were — unsure? surprised? satisfied? nervous? — I couldn’t be sure. Nervous?! C’mon, she sounded like a spoiled arrogant princess a second ago. Maybe she’d never actually thought about me in that way any more than I had thought of her before lunch the previous Tuesday. I couldn’t believe that though; it had always been a pretty safe assumption that every girl I met had thought about me that way, at least once. Still Missy had already proven to be pretty unique.

It occurred to me as I was thinking all of these things that my lack of response to that comment was becoming conspicuous. I decided to try some light-hearted humor myself.

Well, I guess if you caught me staring at your ass again, you’d have every right to ask me to kiss your ass.

I bet I would, she said, and then after a moment, quietly, at least you admit staring at it.

We sat quietly for an interminable 10 seconds or so until she finally brought up another topic: Ginny, one of the real estate agents at work we loved to make fun of, finally putting some distance between us and that strange conversation. The mood began to lighten, and you could almost pretend we hadn’t just spent ten minutes discussing her ass being kissed. Although it was easier for me to hide it now, I still held that mental image and it wouldn’t go away.

Missy suggested an Indian restaurant before the movie. Frankly, Indian food inspires amnesia in me — as does German food — it always sounds interesting to me until I eat it and I remember why I don’t usually go to those restaurants. I was too distracted to care one way or another anyway.

When we got to the restaurant, I ordered something that looked innocuous enough — at least it didn’t have curry in it, but Missy loved Indian and she ordered a big dish I couldn’t pronounce and she devoured the whole thing. I had no idea someone that small could eat so much, and I had fun busting her chops about it.

Afterward we went to the movie, which turned out to be much worse than either of us had anticipated. Before long we both started making fun of it and snickering. Finally, our muffled amusement gave way to barely controlled bursts of laughter. People started staring at us, but that just made the whole thing seem even funnier. Finally she poked me in the ribs and said c’mon let’s get out of here, I think I just pissed myself!!

I kept laughing but for some reason the thought of her pissing herself seemed strangely erotic to me. We got up and left the theater, finally letting our laughter go once we were out in the lobby. She turned to me and asked me to see if there were any wet marks on her pants. I couldn’t believe she was asking me to basically stare at her crotch. Things looked delicious, but no stains. Oh good, she said, it was just a little bit, anyway. But I better hit the restroom before we go. Something in that dinner didn’t quite set right. She held up two fingers to her lips, crossed her eyes, and puffed out her cheeks.

With my sides hurting from laughter being in a dark theater for an hour or so, I’d almost forgotten how hot she had become to me. As I looked at her silly facial expression, I couldn’t help making another mental note to myself how gorgeous she was. I watched her walk to the rest room, and imagined my lips touching each of those cheeks as they swayed ever so slightly with her gait.

Later in the car, we chatted aimlessly and comfortably. Suddenly I noticed she wasn’t looking so well, her face resembling a little bit of that expression she made back in the theater, but this time for real.

Are you alright? I asked.

I don’t know. That dinner really is talking back to me. She seemed to double over a little bit. I guess you should just take me home. I’ll be alright. Then she dropped her head down to her knees.

I was very disappointed, but I was also concerned for her. I turned the car toward her place. Then I thought I heard a little squeaking noise. A dank odor soon filled the car. I looked over at her with curiosity and a certain amount of disbelief. She peeked up at me from her hunched over position, and then she cracked an involuntary smile and began to laugh.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I just did that! I’m so sorry, she said through growing laughter. I just stared at her. I got to admit, though, I sure feel better! Her laughter continued to pick up momentum, while I simply stared at her in shock. Soon she was in hysteria. Who knew, laughter, who kn-knew—, she said through guffaws—

—that you just had to fart, I finished wryly. And this brought even greater laughter from her. It was contagious. Before I knew it I couldn’t stop smiling, and finally I joined her in laughing. We went on like this for several minutes.

Well, you couldn’t get me to kiss your ass now! I said as the laughter began to subside.

Oh shut up! You would love it! You live for this. She sounded almost like an impudent child.

Oh, I live for this eh? I live for your farts?

Yep, she said and looked out the passenger side window, chuckling, you sure do. In fact, here’s another little gift for you. And with that, she lifted her left cheek a little so that her butt was raised toward me, and let a loud one rip. This time, the fart was even worse than the first. The smile on her face had a sweet and sour mixture of satisfaction and mischief. It was as though she was being controlled by this naughty little elf inside of her that I had never been permitted to see during our months of working together.

The car was filled with curry-laced fart. It really smelled bad, but she looked at me unapologetically, almost waiting to see if I would do something about it. No, challenging me to do something about it.

Through the combination of her smug, arrogant little brat look, and that horrific fart stink — HER horrific fart stink, came the totally unexpected; I was getting turned on. I was rock hard. I just loved the look on her face as she sat there watching me breathing in her noxious gas and daring me to do anything but enjoy it. And on a complete spur of the moment whim, I decided to see if I could shock her. I had no idea what I was doing or why exactly, but I began to sniff deeply as I stared right back at her.

Making sure there was no hint of sarcasm in my voice I said, Mmmmmmmm… smells good, sweetheart. You got any more of that for me? I looked her dead in the eye.

I was not ready for what she did next as she leaned over toward me until our lips were only about a half inch apart. It was very hot, and I moved to close the gap. Before I could kiss her, she reached up, grabbed my chin and swiveled my head back toward the road.

Let’s not die just yet, OK? she whispered in my ear, her mouth now practically touching my right earlobe. See, I told you you live for it. You want more, you’ll have to beg for it. Maybe anticipating I might say something right then, she put a finger up to my lips before I could open my mouth. Shhhhhhhhhhh, not yet. You’ll maybe get your chance, but later. Just think, she said her hand still clasped to my chin, her words burning like hot steam on my ear, you can shower my ass with kisses, and maybe, just maybe, if you’re lucky and I’m feeling generous, I’ll fart right in your face. And with that she gave my face a gentle push and dropped back into her seat.

There was a lusty edge in that whisper that exuded more passion, more raw sex than I had ever even imagined with someone, let alone experienced. What might have seemed disgusting to me at any other time, now seemed incredibly erotic. The mere thought of her being so shamelessly, callously — what? Arrogant? Rude? I’m not sure what — to me was a stinging humiliation, and it made my cock as stiff as it had ever been.

Her little speech left me dumb-founded, and apparently she had nothing else to say at the moment either. The silent ride to her apartment seemed curiously both too short and excruciatingly long. When we got out of the car, she came around and took me by the hand. Then she led me up the stairs to her apartment, which was actually built over a garage. It had it’s own entrance at the rear of her landlord’s property. It might have been maybe 11 o’clock at that point, and all was still in the neighborhood. I followed her into her place silently, never letting go of her hand.

Once we were inside, we began to kiss. She pulled me into her bedroom and we both fell onto her bed, groping each other fervently. I tore the buttons of her silk blouse open and kissed my way down her clavicle. I cupped one of her breasts through her thin, translucent bra, and kissed the hardening nipple through the thin fabric. She sighed a moan and threw her head back. I began to reach around to unhook the bra but she was too impatient, and too demanding, for that. I felt her hand on the top of my head pushing me down.

I took the hint and gave up on the bra. I kissed my way down over her belly, which seemed unbelievable flat and hard. As though she anticipated I might fumble with her jeans, she had already unsnapped them by the time my lips came down and kissed the first wisps of nearly straight, light brown hair sticking out of the top of her underwear.

I grabbed her jeans, she lifted her hips off the bed, and then she was bare from the waist down, except for the underwear. She still wore that incredible jacket. The contrast of the white cotton panties with little red hearts dancing all over them and the black leather of her jacket seemed so fitting for Missy.

I nuzzled her underwear and then planted a firm kiss right where I knew her clit would be underneath the faintly perfumed cotton. She knotted her fingers in my hair, hurting me slightly, but I was not distracted. As I kissed my way down, her underwear began to feel moist on my lips, and for the first time, I noticed the distinct smell of urine. I decided that she hadn’t been kidding about pissing herself back in the theater. I parted my lips and allowed my tongue to taste a little bit of it off of the fabric of her panties. Other than a faint salty taste, there wasn’t much to note about it, but the smell was quite evident and left no mistake as to what it was.

God I wanted to lick that off her pussy! I thought of the lucky guy she let drink her piss. I pulled the underwear down, and gently rubbed my nose into her cunt, inhaling the twin fragrances of pussy juice and piss. I felt such an urge to have it all over my face. I showered her pussy lips from top to bottom with closed-mouth kisses, feeling her ever increasing wetness cover my mouth, nose and cheeks. On impulse, I buried my nose in her cunt as deeply as I could. I could feel the folds of her labia engulf my face and touch my lower eyelashes. I was drowning in pussy juice, and my lips came almost accidentally in contact with her asshole.

I then heard her speak for the first time since we got to her apartment.

That’s it… kiss my ass, Frank! You love me don’t you. Kiss my asshole and tell me you’re in love with me!

These husky words had nothing in common with the pleadings of an insecure girl who needed to be reassured; I was quite familiar with that. Rather they were the undeniable demands of a thirsty ego, of the type that might be made by someone who wanted nothing less than for you to bow humbly before them and worship them unconditionally, without any thought of reciprocation.

I love you, I said, and for the first time ever it didn’t feel like a lie. It couldn’t really be true, could it, I thought, but yet it definitely didn’t feel like the lie I’d told so many times before. Maybe it was because I sensed she really didn’t care…

As if to underscore that point, she didn’t bother to answer. She simply pulled her knees up toward her chest and began moving her hips to rub her asshole on my lips, as though she were wiping it on my mouth. It suddenly occurred to me that this was the scenario she had described in the car. Was she now going to punctuate my subservience to her with a blast of foul smelling anal wind?

As it turned out, the answer was no. I kissed her ass as she requested but then the fingers knotted in my hair forced my pussy-drenched face back up so that my lips could once again service her clit. It poked away at me like an obscene miniature hard-on. Her body was silently demanding that I give her head. I opened my mouth to accept her miniature cock and kiss it French-style. Her hips made slow gyrations in time with my attending tongue.

We rode this erotic wave of oral service, with its ebbs and flows for about a half hour. Every time I felt her body tense and get close to the edge, I would back off and just kiss her folds until she relaxed. In the final few minutes, her hips began to move with increasing urgency, the knotted fingers holding my head still as she began actively fucking my face. Apparently she was tired of being teased. She masturbated on my lips nose and tongue. I felt like my face was being fucked. Then, as though struck by lightning, her body went completely stiff, and she let out a deep guttural cry. She nearly ripped the hair out of my head as she fed me her come in flowing gushes.

Finally, she went into that limp state we sometimes refer to as post-orgasmic bliss. Meanwhile, my cock’s raging hard-on raged on. I was wondering if she would return my favor or at least let me fuck her, I was so hot.

As if in answer to this unspoken question, she yawned, looked down at me briefly and lazily rolled over to her side. Just as I thought she was going to fall asleep on me on the spot, she continued to roll over until she was lying on her belly. She grabbed a pillow and tucked it in under her head, and a warm sleepy smile spread over her face as she snuggled into the soft give of the pillow. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Something in the gesture seemed to imply that it was an afterthought, an oh-you’re-still-here look. Man, had I been used!

She reached over and pulled another pillow down toward me. I thought it was a suggestion that I take the pillow and join in her in sleep. Frankly, it pissed me off; I had to come goddammit!

But then she lifted her hips and tucked the other pillow underneath her. The result was to arch her back and thrust her ass into the air. She looked incredible, like a goddess. She asked, OK, Frank, I have to fart. Want it?

I sat there in absolute silent shock. I didn’t know how to respond, but she had timed this perfectly. I was like a fish caught on a line, absolutely horny out of my mind, and my head filled with erotic suggestions of her dominance. Almost in a reluctant trance, I murmured Yes!

I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?

Yes! I repeated a little louder.

Well kiss my ass and start begging then! You can kiss my ass now…

Her arrogance had no end, and I loved it. I was now suddenly painfully aware that she had come and I had not even taken my clothes off. I was still wearing my coat! I hastily stripped, and then climbed in behind her, between her legs and took a moment to soak in the sight of this incredibly beautiful bare ass. I loved it all the more because its owner had been so selfish. She was such a refreshing change from the clingy chicks I was used to picking up.

I kissed my way up her the backs of her thighs until I came to the sweet defining crease between the top of her leg and the bottom of her ass cheek. I kissed all along this crease, and I could make out the hint of a tan-line, a neat little triangle right at the top of her ass crack, like the dot of an eye. That mark could only be made by a g-string worn on the beach. My god, did I not know this girl at all? She wore a g-string down to the beach? Holy shit, with an ass like hers, no wonder she had such a good opinion of herself. She must need a constant supply of tissues to wipe the drool off her ass.

I don’t hear anything, she prodded, breaking my mental reverie.

With some doubt, I opened my mouth and then closed it, and then reopened and uttered, Missy will you please let me have your fart?

Have my fart? she giggled. What do you mean exactly? Do you mean you want me to fart in your face? Be clear. Beg. And don’t forget to kiss my ass when you do…

This is painful to admit, but I did, I begged. Please Missy, please fart in my face! The words stung as I uttered them, and I gratefully paused my begging to place a kiss on her ass. Please, please, please? Please can you fart in my face? You were right. I do live for this… I was even more pathetic than I sound.

I was kissing each cheek, and the best way to describe what Missy was doing was purring. At first, I thought she was going to go to sleep actually, but apparently she enjoyed this sort of treatment way too much to miss it. I began kissing my way down the crack of her ass, and I noticed a broadening smile on her face. She kept her eyes closed, but I could tell she was intensely focused on the feeling of my lips working their way down her ass-crack.

Describe in detail what you want me to do. Would you prefer to sniff it or taste it? Don’t make me work too hard, you have to show you really want it — bad! she quipped.

I admit, I had had some trepidation and was holding back, but Missy clearly knew how to demand the most from me. I decided to really put my heart into it and use my imagination to really give her what she wanted. The thing about it was I had come to a point where I really did want it, bad, and the begging was just making me hotter for it. I wanted to humiliate myself for this goddess.

I want both, beautiful Missy! I want your farts in my nose and in my mouth. I want you to fart in my nose while I lick your pussy, and I want you to fart in my mouth while I kiss your ass. I want you to fart again and again! Please let me suck the farts out of your ass? Pleeeeeeease? Please!

That’s it beg for it like you’re my little bitch, she whispered huskily.

I continued pressing my lips all over her ass and her ass crack as I pleaded for her to fart in my face and mouth. Finally, in what felt like a magically privileged moment, the skin of my lips finally touched the skin of her asshole for the first time. I couldn’t help but wonder just how many other guys’ lips had been right where mine were just then… I opened my mouth a bit, but dared not push my tongue out. I was sniffing the fairly strong dirty scent of her ass, and there was something about crossing that final threshold, that of licking her ass, that I both feared crossing and wanted to prolong.

Suddenly, I felt her hand on the back of my head as she pushed my face into her ass, forcing my lips into a firm, passionate kiss of her asshole. I thought I was going to explode, and my own hips began to move as I slowly masturbated against the sheets of her bed while kissing her ass.

Go ahead, she soothed, don’t be afraid. Open up. You earned this…

I parted my lips tentatively, and then I felt her asshole soften, bulge slightly, and open briefly like a flower. Out came an explosion of wet, sticky fart gas right past my lips and into my mouth. The entire inside of my mouth was coated with a thin film from her ass, and it tasted horrible. Her face showed that she was struggling to hide a smirk, or a cruel laugh perhaps, but she was losing the battle.

I just stared up at her, trying to decide how to react. Some part of me knew I should be outraged somehow or angry or indignant or something, but I had never been more turned on in my life. I could not bring myself to remove my mouth from her precious asshole, as she blew a second fart right into my throat. I saw her staring at me intently as she watched me swallow her gas.

Where’s your manners? she asked with mock indignation. Say thank you!

And then she did it again. This fart was audible even though my mouth acted as a muffler for her exhaust. The taste of fresh shit was inescapable. She was sharing her dinner with me. I broke my oral seal on her ass and began nuzzling her deliciously dirty asshole and thanking her for farting in my mouth, when she farted yet again. I inhaled deeply as she blew her wind into my face. It was like sniffing her fresh shit. She was making me feel like her toilet. And that caused me to do the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. Between the sweet roundness of her ass, the bitter taste of her gas in my throat, and the presumptive arrogance of her manner, I could not contain myself any longer, and I came right then and there. I began licking at her asshole like it was the source of all life sustenance. I almost didn’t notice her laughter, as she farted again in my mouth, while I came harder than I ever had in my life.

THE OTHER SIDE

OK, now whoa there… Frankie isn’t telling any lies exactly but I can’t help feeling I come off a little bad in his little tale here. He’s asked me to read what he’s written, and now I feel compelled to tell my side. This is Missy, and I just want to say, I get the feeling I come off as some sort of man-hating bitch in here and it’s not like that.

I love men, and I’m not mean. I don’t even get off on being arrogant. What Frankie seems to have missed early on is that I was just pulling his leg at first. I was just having fun! Two things happened to make this thing go all strange on us. First, he took me seriously. I was just teasing him — especially about the whole fart thing — and I could tell he was really getting himself into a tizz over it.

The second thing that happened was I liked it. Now honestly, is there a woman on the planet who DOESN’T like getting her ass kissed?? I was just acting arrogant for laughs, and he took it so seriously and ate it up so fully that I just went with it.

Now Frankie wrote this story based on that first date. I have to admit he writes well; I had no idea how powerfully he was influenced by what happened that night. I love this line: The taste of fresh shit was inescapable. LOL as they say. But now he gets to a part where he feels he just can’t write what happened next so now it’s up to me. So I’ll do my best…

Now put yourself in my shoes. You go out with a guy friend of yours you admit is pretty hot, but for whatever reason you just never got together. Usually you just start to see someone like that in a different, non-sexual way, and it never occurs to you to date them. At least that’s the way it is with me. The first thing that began to change all of that from my perspective was noticing what an obvious ass man Frankie is. I mean once I realized what was going on, it was just so obvious. After that lunch together I felt I needed to wipe his saliva off me. And that’s cool, I like that. I know I have a nice ass, and it’s been kissed a few times in the past.

What I decided to do was tease him a little bit and not let on that I caught him staring me down. When we went out, I picked tight jeans on purpose. When we were in the car, I made little comments that I knew would get him thinking. Then the smartass in me got the better of me and I made some throwaway jokes about farting in his face. Oh and the story about making some guy drink my piss was totally made up. I was floored by the flushed look on his face and I just knew in my heart he would really let me do it!

I admit this intrigued me. I won’t retell what happened because Frankie pretty much got it right, but understand I had just gone on a date with a hot male friend who literally sucked me off without me so much as touching him. It made me feel quite selfish, and that felt great, frankly. I was feeling pretty damn good about having just gotten off in his mouth and I was in no mood to reciprocate.

I was feeling spoiled rotten at that point, and Frankie was right, I was feeling like I might just doze off. So when it was clear he was anxious to finish his business, I couldn’t help myself from pushing his buttons and telling him to kiss my ass and beg me to fart in his face. And then he starts kissing my ass like HE’S the grateful one! Well, it just felt fantastic, and it put me in a mood, and when I felt the fart come on, I just decided to give it to him. And he sucked it down gleefully. You should have been there, the guy acted like he was specifically born on this planet to eat my gas. Then the man came while I farted in his mouth. I can’t tell you what a rush that is! It really turned me on to know that if I had to fart, there was going to be a warm willing mouth down there to receive it! It made me think of him — and his mouth — in a whole new way… and that just made me want to be nasty.

And the Indian food just really made me gassy. I just kept farting in his mouth over and over again. It was unbelievable. Even after he came he continued to let me fart in his mouth. I lost count of how many times he swallowed my gas after the first couple of dozen times or so.

Sometimes things just happen so fast you don’t have time to think about them too carefully, and this was one of those times. I was feeling gaseous because I had to go! Not that unusual when you think about it. Well, Frank was about to swell my ego beyond belief — to a point where it has never gone back. I was laughing when I farted mostly out of embarrassment at first, but OK, maybe I was laughing at him more than a little bit. I was a little taken aback when Frankie didn’t pull away; the bitch literally took all of it. He sucked it down as fast as I could fart my gas into him, and that just blew my mind, especially when it became clear he was coming.

What sealed it for me though was this: after sucking the gas out of my ass and coming he began kissing my asshole and THANKING me for it!! I about died and went to heaven, and I couldn’t stop laughing, and then I felt wetness on the cheeks of my ass while he was kissing my asshole and I realized he was crying!!!

Yep, you read that right. He didn’t tell you, so I am. The man was crying tears of gratitude as I farted in his mouth. Well shit that was too much for me. I had a full blown slave on my hands then and I knew it.

As baldly patronizing as I could, I reached back and pet his hair while simultaneously pushing his face into my ass, and said, that’s OK baby, mama understands. You need to suck ass for me, you need to feel my wind go down your throat after I’ve let you eat my cunt, right baby? You need to atone for getting to drink my come, and so you need me to use your mouth right?

I felt him nod, and even though I knew I was right on the money with those filthy dirty bitchy comments, I swear I just couldn’t get used to it. He was still shocking me to the core. I think he shocked himself. Neither of us knew we had this in us, that we fit so well in this unbelievably perverse way.

It’s OK, sweetheart. I have a special treat for you that I’m going to absolutely love giving you. Ready? Another nod.

I pushed hard on the back of his head so that his face was just smothered in my ass. I felt his tongue snake up my ass. I arched my back to greet his slave tongue, and at the same time I began to push. Not that I need to, I was already ready to go, and his tongue up my ass just made me like I’d already started. Now remember, he had already come, so you would think he’d be spent, right? Nope, he’d already sprung a fresh hard-on. That blew my mind!

I remember being struck by not knowing what to expect. I’d never done anything remotely like this before… What would happen? Would it just go all over? Would he get sick? Did I care? (Truthfully? No, not at that moment anyway.) Would he actually eat it? LOL Would he swallow???

Nothing can prepare you for the arrogance you feel when you literally shit in another human being’s mouth. Everything you shit, they must taste. You get to shit on someone, and they have to eat your shit! It’s mind-numbing, but I L-O-V-E-D IT!!

I held his head fast and began shitting. I couldn’t tell when his tongue ended and my shit began as it began to come out of my ass. I felt him struggle ever so slightly, but not so much that I really had to exert any pressure to keep his grateful mouth from accepting my shit. I think mostly he struggled a little bit just to accommodate it. Lucky for him, I’m a small girl relatively, and I’m pretty regular so I don’t tend to have massive shits. Trust me though, it was far more than I would ever let anywhere near MY mouth!

I could feel it was a little soft, which is also pretty normal for me. Another thing I remember clearly is the smell. We are all familiar with our own smells, and we don’t think about them much usually, but when someone else is experiencing them so intimately, you suddenly become EXTREMELY aware of them. My shit STUNK! And he had to TASTE it! I felt his mouth moving and I realized he was actually chewing it! Gawd, the taste must have been just horrific! It still makes me smile thinking about it…

I purposely tried to hold my shit back a bit to let him finish what he had in his mouth. I kept waiting for him to break free and run to the bathroom to spit it out or vomit or something, but it never happened, and I looked over my shoulder just in time to catch him in his first swallow! OmyGOD I gasped and I couldn’t stop my self from staring! He finished swallowing and looked up at me pleadingly, then he asked, May I please have more?

Then he opened his mouth waiting. I just pulled his face back into my ass and let him have the rest. Words simply can’t describe the emotion you feel using someone like a toilet like that! He swallowed all of my shit like a faithful puppy. It was fantastic! Then he kissed my asshole some more and used his tongue as toilet paper to wipe my ass clean. It was then that he came a second time!

I was so sated and happy by then, I just wanted to go to sleep. He started to climb up next to me in the bed, but I told him breath stunk too bad for that, so he slept down between my legs, using my ass as a pillow. And that pretty much sums up where we are now.

I’ve discovered a few things along the way. For me at least (and for most people I imagine), there’s nothing innately erotic about taking a dump. It’s not like it feels orgasmic or like much of a turn-on by itself. And dumping on someone else really feels mostly nasty and rude. It’s mean and it makes me feel mean. What makes it sexy is seeing his response — the voluntary chewing and swallowing, the raging hard-on, the tears, the cum! That puts me on a totally selfish egotistical high, and makes me revel in the erotic cruelty of it. With Frankie, I know I can make him cum just pissing on his face or making him eat shit. Awesome!

So now he is a true slave to my body. I can make him do anything for it. Getting him off is as easy as allowing him to use his hand on himself while he sucks me off, or even just by farting in his mouth. You could say the relationship is abusive and you’d be right in a way. We both get something out of it though, so I’d say it’s not abusive. But of course, I get my ass sucked, and he gets shit — literally — but that’s what he wants!

Interestingly, I am not interested in having him as a boyfriend or in being his girlfriend. I date regularly, if pretty casually, and I insist he do the same. I’ve gotten a number of other cruel thrills from this arrangement too. Like watching him taste another man’s sperm for the first time from my pussy. Or setting him up on dates with girls who annoy me, and making sure he has my shit on his breath before he goes out on the date. I like thinking about what they might be tasting when they kiss him.

I make sure his face always smells at least a little bit like me. It’s my way of branding him, of marking my territory. Oh and the made up story about making that guy drink my piss? Well, Frankie has made that a regular reality now…

There, does that pretty much sum it all up, Frankie?