A lot of people don’t seem to understand that anal, even if you clean yourself up really well, is *still* both messy and smelly. That’s why I don’t eat ass. The last time I did makes for a very funny and disgusting story that I won’t tell here, but I’m getting off track.

I don’t know how long you were together, but I don’t feel like it’s too much of a loss if that’s all it took to run him off. Wouldn’t worry about it.

[…]

Oh alright, if you insist.

I met a girl on a dating site, who lived fairly nearby. We get together at her place, and we’re getting hot and heavy. She suggests that we try 69, which I agree to because, well, I never got to try it before, and I had this notion that the view would be spectacular.

*I was wrong.*

She starts off, and swings her ass my way, and says she wants it eaten out. Another first for me, so I’m like yeah, sure. The first thing that hits me is the smell. It’s like a backed up toilet on Superbowl Sunday. And then, she spreads it for me, and I see it. A kernel of corn, a whole dingleberry, and what looks like someone mashed nutella between her cheeks. My stomach, already reeling from the smell, is on the verge of full-on revolt.

“Well, dig in,” she says to me. I go to object, but she decides that initiative must be taken, and backs up on me. It touched my face!

And that was my limit.

I projectile vomited on her. On her ass, down her back, her hair, she is inundated by puke. She screams, I groan and puke more, managing to flop over the side of the bed and start scampering to the bathroom. Her carpet and bedspread are no longer of concern. They can not be saved, and were not spared. I just wanna get the corn disentangled from my ‘stache.

I spend a while cleaning myself. Borrow her razor to shave my face clean, and follow up with purell, because the burning means it’s working.

Then, when I am done, I calmly walk out, grab my hat and coat, say “Good day, madam,” and go home to weep in the shower.

I no longer eat ass.