A Piece Of Ass

by Bob Garrison

Driving home, I took the long way to avoid traffic. As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find a tune to hum, something caught my eye, just off the road, in a pile of detritus. I pulled over and backed up, so that my headlights caught a little heap of leaves and twigs, and something else.

When I focused, I gasped, then hopped out and approached this odd form. I blew away some dirt and dust… and there it was. . This was serious. It was undeniable that this was a valuable specimen indeed! I was staring at a very fine piece of ass.

It looked unharmed. Dusty, of course, but no scratches. A little bit of chap on the top, but otherwise unmarred. Oh my God, alone like this in the desert! For a moment, I paused. There was no way to know the consequences that might arise, being discovered with this priceless thing in my car! Oh, well. Nothing ventured….

I carefully removed all dust and twigs and than placed it on the car blanket next to me in the front seat. What good luck to find such a specimen! Unspoken, I was in awe to be next to this priceless marvel, this rare piece of ass!

I hurried home to bathe it, and tend to any nourishment it might require. This was exciting. I drove into my garage and hurried in with my piece of ass, taking care not to disturb it. As the garage door rolled down, it created a gust of chilly air that rushed past us. I felt a tremble, through the wool blanket.

I swept it into my arms and hurried to the house and up the stairs, three at a time. Then into the bathroom and on to the vanity. I ran the hot water in the basin until steam began to fill the air and warm my prize. But first, I took a bottle
of Chanel #5 and sprayed mist which hovered over the bed.

Shortly, it started to respond to the temperature. Relaxing, a cloud seem to rise from the cashmere coverlet. It was stretching! I hurried over and laid out a soft white towel,
transferring my piece of ass from the soft linen sheet to the luxurious towel.

I thought I heard a sigh. After a few moments it turned quite pink. Next, I brushed a few table spoons of lather from a bar of perfumed soap, all over my sweet piece of ass, and immediately swept away the foam with a soft silken brush. Another sigh… and then, all was very still.

I carried it carefully into the bedroom and laid it on one side of the king sized bed. Lowering the lights, I whispered, “Sweet dreams, sleep well. Tomorrow we’re going to play, my piece of ass.”

I awakened in the night. It took a moment to recall the evening’s wondrous happenings. I had a smile on my face and slowly reached under the covers, across the bed.

To my horror, there was nothing there. All that remained was the lingering faint aroma of Chanel.

I could see the indentation in the linen sheets. I followed the impression in the shag rug to the bathroom. But the impressions changed shape and grew. I was alarmed as the prints multiplied in size. Then they stopped under the open window of the bathroom. And disappeared.

Someone or something had taken my priceless piece of ass.

My heart missed a beat. It was painful. I threw myself on the bed and pulled the scented sheets over my head. Exhausted from the strain, I slept, dreamlessly.

When I woke, I smiled. I don’t know why, for I remembered nothing. When I took my shower, I was slightly taken aback by the titillation of a whiff of Chanel. I smiled. Then I forgot about that, too.

The End.

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