My Love of Bum

I've had an obsession with the female bottom and with females shitting since watching my cousin Natasha take a shit in a hole she'd dug on a quiet beach because we were a long way from a public toilet or even from a place she could hide. 

Seeing her squatting, pretty and blonde, silky-skinned, the seat of her one-piece swimsuit pulled to one side, her anus opening from a neat pink pucker to a muscular protruding ever-widening fleshy chute, as she grunted and bore down, squeezing out a big knobbly long brown glistening turd, which she slowly dropped with little wet farts into a sand-hole slowly filling from below with sea-water, so that when Natasha's turd finally left her warm rectum and cleared her closing anus, it made a little splash in the waiting water.

Natasha stood up and asked "you didn't watch, did you?" and I answered "no" but of course I had, so closely and intensely that I can see the whole scene in full detail now, decades later.

I later had the delight of watching her squat and piss, summer dress hitched, in summer woodland, another lovely sight, another lovely memory.

I also once had a friend Brenda who liked getting up to no good and would hike up her skirt, drip her knickers, and spread her arse-cheeks and show me her arsehole for a small fee, and once let me watch her take a shit in public while we were camping. 

I got a ground-level view of the moist turds falling out of her shit-hole and into the grass while little squirts of her piss shot sparkling and yellow from her twat. She was a gorgeous brunette, with the colouration of Snow White and a lovely pink arsehole - you can imagine how lovely the sight was, the pale near-white skin of her bum cheeks, the pink of her anus, the rich brown of her shit as she pushed it out.
 

I had – still have – a female friend named Melinda. Back when she was 19 Melinda shared  flat with her 18 year old sister Jenny. Jenny was an odd girl, long straight blonde hair, pretty, but with a tendency to develop obsessions about things and people. Jenny had a sort of party-trick she was fond of – if she was amongst friends, at her flat or theirs, she would leave the room ostensibly to make a coffee, take a pee, or get something from her room and would than come back into the room bare-arse first, her skirt up or jeans half-down, and do a little waggly-bum dance. She did this both with her male and with her female friends and acquaintances.

One time I arrived at their little flat when Melinda was out so Jenny invited me to wait in the living room-cum-Melinda’s bedroom. I sat in a deep high bean-bag chair of the type popular with young people back then. After a brief conversation Jenny, who was wearing a lacy white blouse with small ruched cap sleeves, tight jeans, and flatties, said she had to get something from her room, and – yes – she came back bare-bum first round the door, her jeans and knickers around her upper thighs. Except instead of doing her little bum waggle dance she advanced – or more properly reversed – across the room to me in the big bean-bag chair and danced around moving her pale firm arse closer and then a little further away from my face.

After a couple of minutes of this – it seemed like hours – she suddenly pulled apart her cheeks, and thrust her bottom into my face or I should say clasped my face between her buttocks, and leaned back a little supporting herself with her hands behind her on my shoulders, holding me in place with her weight..

I can still feel that pressure, and the weight and warmth and silky firmness of her bum cheeks  round my face, and the hardness of her tailbone on my brow. 

And I can still smell the warm rich smell of Jenny’s bum, a faint hint of urine, a hint of butterscotch, an undertone of chinese restaurant (MSG?) all probably coming from her quim, a mixture of commercial deodorant, female sweat, a slightly sulphurous touch of cooked brassicas (the obvious), very rich – I love that melange of scents more than anything and a partial mixture of any of them brings back those moments.

That’s as far as it went with Jenny. She just stepped away after a minute or so, chuckling her head off and pointing at me as if I had been made a fool of by her when instead she had provided one of the formative sexual experiences of my life. I remained in touch with Jenny for years and she did the dance again a number of times in my presence both in a group and alone together but never again did the finale.

The last time I spoke to Melinda about Jenny’s old bare bum dancing, about five years ago, she said Jenny was still doing it to friends at nearly 50. Whatever, it was the final big sign-post to a life-time of bum-centricity on my part.

 

Ever since those days I’ve preferred a woman’s arse and arsehole to her tits and cunt and I’m glad things turned out this way – a woman’s big bum is much rounder and firmer than the best pair of tits and a woman with a neatly crinkled and muscular anus is offering an orifice much prettier than all but the neatest cunt but just as accommodating.

I like to bury my face in a girlfriend’s arse as foreplay if she’s comfortable with it, and usually ask her not to shower if she's been at work all day. 

When I’m between relationships I like to wank over the memories, particularly the memory of Jenny, and I love photographs of women with their faces wedged in another woman’s arse and men with their faces wedged in too.

 My focus of sexual interest and desire, the part of a woman I prefer for penetration, remains to this day her bottom and her anus, and I love to watch women shit- and piss - and hear them fart. And I absolutely love the smell of women's bottoms, the sweatier and dirtier the better.

Anybody else have a formative experience that began a life-long journey up the old dirt road? Feel free to leave a cooment anywhere on this blog.