When I was a little girl growing up, my parents became accustomed to being showered with adoring comments about me from men and women alike. They received compliments such as “My goodness, Ashlee is so pretty” and “When she grows up, she’s going to be a stunner; you are going to have to beat off the boys with a stick when she’s older.”
By the time I reached junior high, I noticed that the fathers stopped making these comments and it was only my friends’ mothers who would delight in saying such things. I didn’t understand the sudden silence from them at the time, especially since I still lit up their eyes and drew their smiles that used to be paired with expressions of praise.
It was around this same time that I started developing breasts. I was the first girl in my class to wear a bra. The older girls I knew from the neighborhood treated me like I was special for it, but I was more embarrassed about it than anything else. I wasn’t ready for the adoration that was being thrust upon me.
Fast forward to my first week of high school; by this time my fetching face was no longer what first caught people’s attention. Everyone in the building noticed me. Everyone stared. My tits entered the room before I did. They announced me. I was barely 14 years old; my boobs were D-cups and as firm as my age suggested they would be.
I also began to feel like I was sometimes being followed by boys. I’d turn around and they looked abashed, like they had just been caught in the act. It took an older girl explaining to me that it was my ass that was winning stares. I also overheard a much older man quip to his friend “Look at how those cheeks bounce as she walks. God, I have to have that ass!”
Every male, from the boys to the teachers, from the maintenance crew to the principal, wanted me. I wasn’t the only attractive face around. I wasn’t the only girl who possessed a beauteous backside. And I assure you that I was no longer bashful about showing off my fleshy thighs and perfectly taut stomach. But I was indeed the only girl who had all that and a chest larger than most college girls, let alone the high school senior girls who thought it was their time to rule the school. My power over every penis around me gave me influence over the females too.
It was summer. I was 21, and I was nearing the end of college. It was a great time. My entire adult life was in front of me and yet I had already achieved the wisdom of women who were much older than I. From having boys beg for a chance to do my homework to professors rewarding me with special privileges and select internship opportunities, I had learned what men could do for me (if I allowed them to*wink). Sometimes it didn’t even take words from my mouth to get what I wanted.
One time I wore skin tight short-shorts that featured one of my charming cheeks hanging out of the bottom edge of the denim. I pretended not to notice that I was the Pied Piper, leading a parade of erect cocks down the block as I strutted. I’d turn around and say aloud, “I don’t have any money for that new angora sweater I want.” “Darn,” I sighed. A fight almost broke out over who got to buy that sweater for me. My indelible derrière had almost started a war!
Still, I hadn’t yet learned what they could do for me even when it was totally unsolicited or I didn’t ask for it. I was with my girlfriends at the beach, sporting a string bikini which really left nothing to the imagination. When I asked the cashier at the convenience store on the strand about the price of the suntan lotion, he said “Usually it’s $5. But for you, it’s free.” Before I could blush and thank him he added, “And I’ll pay you $200 if I can rub it into those melons that you brought bouncing into my store.” I was horrified. I threw the bottle at him and stormed out.
I walked off the steam that was coming from my ears and then remembered what another hot girl once told me, “You have powers in that billowing bosom, and you cannot be upset when people worship them.” I thought about it for a while and then went back into the store.
The cashier was alarmed at first, but I soothed him with a beguiling smile. I aroused him by looking down at my heaving chest. I seduced him with all my predominance. I demanded an apology for his previous assertion and then made him give me a lot more than $200 when I finally conceded to letting him rub a dollop of the lotion onto my back, not my tits.
My tits are part of who I am. They are part of why you are rubbing your cock right now. They are big. They are shapely. They are perfect for creating a place for your lubed up cock to slide between. They feel good in your hands and in your mouth.
My ass is also a part of who I am. Any time I walk around, men have a chance to ogle these sexy cheeks without the fear of being caught because my back is turned to them. My legs come together to form a perfect diamond, my hips sway side to side in such an arresting way that you will be hard-pressed (pun intended) to avoid touching your erection it in public.
But as tenacious as my ta tas are, as ample as my ass surely is, they are incomplete without my euphonious voice!
If you haven’t spoken to me yet or it has been a while since you have, please know that together, my bodacious booty, alluring ass, and velvety voice will give you the one-two-three punch that will send you reeling into orgasmic bliss every single time you call.