SpursWoman
11-07-2004, 12:19 AM
Stripper With Ass Warts
by Jasmine Freud
GROSS, DISGUSTING PICTURE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (http://www.comfusionreview.com/sexy3.html)
Like any normal heterosexual woman who fancies strip joints on occasion, I expect to see some fine looking naked women flaunting their wares for my selfish pleasure.
But no.
Let me break it down: bachelorette/ bachelor party, San Francisco, The Lusty Lady, me and my best friend in a tiny view booth that smells like cum. Both of us avoiding contact with the walls or glass. A shit load of quarters. A sense of excitement.
Cha-ching.
Quarters fly into the slot. My friend and I look at each other and giggle like we know what our moms would think if they could see us now. The partition pulls up. Four pupils and two vaginas dilate in anticipation. Ten or so people in front of a velvety back drop dancing slowly. We are spotted by a cute redhead. She approaches our glass. Erotically, she dances in front of us, aching, twisting, rubbing herself.
Ain't too bad so far.
She turns around for a finale of sorts. Presents a fine, slim gluteus. Bends over. Presents...an image that will forever haunt my erotica masturbation material like an uninvited spirit.
First. More hair around her ass than the boyfriend I had at the time (and he was part Irish so you know it was dense). And I'm not trying to say that women don't have ass hair. It's sad but true. But when I go to see fantasy, fantasy is what I expect. If I want to see reality, I look at my own hairy crack (which I do, every chance I get).
But that's besides the point.
Second. Warts. Protrude. From the hair. From the hair all over the ass. Fucking warts. Or I think they were warts, they may have been zits or something. So prominent that they were not over-staged by her numerous genital piercings. In fact, she may as well have pierced the warts/zits/growths so they could have maybe blended in with the rest of the metal hoops. I mean, it looked like a fucking ring toss down there.
Anyway.
Hairy ass, warts, metal hoops. What the fuck was that? All I'm saying is if you want to objectify yourself, invest in a gyno and a schick (although any method of razor or hair removal will do). How difficult is that? I mean we are talking about one of the only strip joints with a union. If these ladies are organized enough to wrestle up a union, can't they wax once a month? And since when do large warts on the ass scream, "do me!"?
Shit.
So the reason I brought this whole nightmarish story up is simple. One word.
Masturbation.
See the connection? Me neither.
But I will say this. Every time I masturbate I go through a huge mental file of whack off imagery (and they say we only use 10% of our brains? Come on....porno flick images make up at least 40% no problem) to find the one that seems most conducive to my mood at the time. Well. Without fail, I pick a good image and I get this image going, I'm almost there...And Bam: "Stripper with ass warts" comes into mind and ruins my flow. I usually cringe for a moment, compose myself, and move on to the previous orgasm friendly scene, but fucking A. I shouldn't have to do that.
Should I?
Maybe God is punishing me. Maybe I'm really a dyke who likes hairy, warty asses. But I don't think so. Really.
I think I am victim. A victim of society. Or a victim of a society who condemns the hairy warty female ass. So when I see such a thing…my Playboy mag pasteurized unrealistic fantasies of women are shot to hell. HELL.
So I say this. I hope Hell has enough room for me. Until then...I shall shave my ass, get any visible warts removed from my ass, save my hard earned quarters for gumball machines, and no longer visit the Lusty Lady.
Amen.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
:lmao :lmao :lmao :lmao
by Jasmine Freud
GROSS, DISGUSTING PICTURE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (http://www.comfusionreview.com/sexy3.html)
Like any normal heterosexual woman who fancies strip joints on occasion, I expect to see some fine looking naked women flaunting their wares for my selfish pleasure.
But no.
Let me break it down: bachelorette/ bachelor party, San Francisco, The Lusty Lady, me and my best friend in a tiny view booth that smells like cum. Both of us avoiding contact with the walls or glass. A shit load of quarters. A sense of excitement.
Cha-ching.
Quarters fly into the slot. My friend and I look at each other and giggle like we know what our moms would think if they could see us now. The partition pulls up. Four pupils and two vaginas dilate in anticipation. Ten or so people in front of a velvety back drop dancing slowly. We are spotted by a cute redhead. She approaches our glass. Erotically, she dances in front of us, aching, twisting, rubbing herself.
Ain't too bad so far.
She turns around for a finale of sorts. Presents a fine, slim gluteus. Bends over. Presents...an image that will forever haunt my erotica masturbation material like an uninvited spirit.
First. More hair around her ass than the boyfriend I had at the time (and he was part Irish so you know it was dense). And I'm not trying to say that women don't have ass hair. It's sad but true. But when I go to see fantasy, fantasy is what I expect. If I want to see reality, I look at my own hairy crack (which I do, every chance I get).
But that's besides the point.
Second. Warts. Protrude. From the hair. From the hair all over the ass. Fucking warts. Or I think they were warts, they may have been zits or something. So prominent that they were not over-staged by her numerous genital piercings. In fact, she may as well have pierced the warts/zits/growths so they could have maybe blended in with the rest of the metal hoops. I mean, it looked like a fucking ring toss down there.
Anyway.
Hairy ass, warts, metal hoops. What the fuck was that? All I'm saying is if you want to objectify yourself, invest in a gyno and a schick (although any method of razor or hair removal will do). How difficult is that? I mean we are talking about one of the only strip joints with a union. If these ladies are organized enough to wrestle up a union, can't they wax once a month? And since when do large warts on the ass scream, "do me!"?
Shit.
So the reason I brought this whole nightmarish story up is simple. One word.
Masturbation.
See the connection? Me neither.
But I will say this. Every time I masturbate I go through a huge mental file of whack off imagery (and they say we only use 10% of our brains? Come on....porno flick images make up at least 40% no problem) to find the one that seems most conducive to my mood at the time. Well. Without fail, I pick a good image and I get this image going, I'm almost there...And Bam: "Stripper with ass warts" comes into mind and ruins my flow. I usually cringe for a moment, compose myself, and move on to the previous orgasm friendly scene, but fucking A. I shouldn't have to do that.
Should I?
Maybe God is punishing me. Maybe I'm really a dyke who likes hairy, warty asses. But I don't think so. Really.
I think I am victim. A victim of society. Or a victim of a society who condemns the hairy warty female ass. So when I see such a thing…my Playboy mag pasteurized unrealistic fantasies of women are shot to hell. HELL.
So I say this. I hope Hell has enough room for me. Until then...I shall shave my ass, get any visible warts removed from my ass, save my hard earned quarters for gumball machines, and no longer visit the Lusty Lady.
Amen.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
:lmao :lmao :lmao :lmao