One January Morning, Part 29

He stands, turns, and lifts the rear of His robes to expose His own rear. It is a revolting sight, His ass: hairy and covered with a mix of popped and unpopped zits. There is a small scrap of toilet paper clenched between the two cheeks, and a rash of some sort stretching downward and out of sight.

It is all the more disgusting when one considers that He had to imagine this to make it so. It is all the more obvious, His disgust with Pirate Morgan, when one considers He could have presented her with a pristine, hairless bottom as smooth as a baby’s. He could have, but didn’t.

She kneels down and pushes her face toward him, closing her eyes as she does. She pinches her nose, too, waiting (as I am) for a fart. But, thank goodness, He spares her that indecency.

Her lips are puckered and they are but an inch a way. And now a fraction of an inch. I close my eyes, unable to watch.

At the moment she kisses His horrible ass, the world goes white.

To be continued…

This month, January 2015, I’m telling one story day-by-day, inspired by cards from the Writer Emergency Pack. To read the next paragraph a day early, support me on Patreon.