Date: Sat, 8 Dec 2007 15:09:09 +0000
From: Johnny Manipulator <johnnymanipulator@gmx.com>
Subject: Arse Whisperer Part 2

Meanwhile...

I didn't know anyone was looking when I split my shorts. It happened in my
back garden while I was putting away the mower - I bent down and my white
rugby shorts just gave at the seam of the arse, a rapid bursting and the
whole seam disintegrated. I knew I should have worn some underwear. I felt
the breeze on my crack and jumped up, trying to pull the fabric
together. It wouldn't go - the curse of having such a disproportionately
large arse had struck again.

Fuck it.

But no-one was around. My wife was down the shops, my neighbours were away,
and there was no telltale signs of their teenage son either (basically, no
lairy swearing, loud mobile phone conversations or computer game music). So
I carried on putting the mower away in the shed and pottering around in the
garden for a while, not bothered that my shorts were open at the back.

I'm Glenn. My wife calls me the alpha male of the street. At which point I
usually beat my chest like a caveman and carry her upstairs for good
rogering. I'm finance director of a medium sized company and I'm captain of
my local rugby team. I'm 37, 6ft 4, I'm hairy, though balding on top, and
I'm pretty big and muscular. I have a nice large penis - fat and heavy. The
only bit of me I have a problem with is my arse, which has always been too
big for my liking - it's hard finding suit trousers or shorts to fit it,
because it's out of proportion to the rest of me. It's like there's a layer
of fat on it I can't shift - it just covers the muscles of my bum and
stretches all of the clothes I wear out of shape. My wife says I get
through twice as many pairs of pants as she does, cos my arse wears the
elastic out on my briefs. Arse aside, generally people find me a bit
intimidating and I like that about being me. I tower over them, big,
successful, dark and handsome, and it makes them meek. Like my wife says,
I'm the alpha male of the street alright.

I'd been on my hands and knees weeding a flower bed for about half an hour
when a heard a cheery 'Alright mate!' behind me. I looked over my
shoulder. There, over the low fence, sitting on a plastic chair directly
facing me was Liam, next door's teenage son. Well, I say teenage, he must
have been at least 19 by now. I'd known him for years, from when he was a
kid, and had seen him grow into the cocky, cheeky lad he'd become. He sat
there watching me like I was the telly, sipping on a can of lager. He was
only about 5ft 8 or so, and skinny, but he'd got a reputation for
skirt-chasing that drove his parents round the twist. There was something
about the lad that was just pure naughty - he must have been a real handful
for them. No respect for authority, they said. Always up to
something. Well, I wasn't going to judge the lad. He was only 19 after
all. I'm sure I was a tearaway at that age myself. (Though thinking about
it, when I was 19 I was on a business studies course and already dating my
soon-to-be-wife). All he needed was to be treated like an adult, I
thought. I'd learned that if you give people like that respect they give it
back to you. And anyway, I knew I was intimidating and didn't want to scare
him. His eyes went from my blushing face to my arse. And stayed there. I
suddenly remembered my ripped shorts and stood up, turning to hide it from
his view.
	'You didn't need to do that,' said Liam. 'You should have carried
on.'
	'I need get changed into another pair,' I said. 'I think these are
ripped.'
	'Really?' said Liam. 'Show me.'
	'No, they are, really,' I said. He rotated a finger to get me to
turn around. I decided to oblige him. 'Can you see the tear?' I asked.
	'I dunno,' he said. 'Come closer.' I walked backwards towards
him. 'Lean forward a bit.' I did as he asked. 'Spread your legs a little.'
I shuffled my feet apart. 'Hmmm.'
	'Can you see it?'
	'Yeah. I can see it now. I'm looking right at it.'
	'Yeah? Is it ripped badly?'
	'Let me show you,' he said. He got up, leaned over the fence and I
felt the gentlest of touches from his smooth, nimble fingers, right at the
top of my crack. 'It starts here...' He gently, slowly traced it down
between my cheeks, and it felt like a rivulet of cold sweat running down my
arse. Eventually it reached the bottom, the crease, and tucked in there
like a hermit crab. '...All the way down to here,' he said.
	'Big tear,' I said.
	'Big arse,' he said. I coughed and stood up straight, turning so
his buried finger popped from it's hiding place. I looked down at him. He
was smirking. 'I don't mean that in a bad way,' he said. 'It's just, I've
been doing a project.'
	'Oh yes?'
	'Yeah. Nightschool. I'm trying to better myself.'

I smiled at him. The guy was going to nightschool. I was impressed. It
seemed like people were underestimating Liam.
	'That's great,' I said. 'I didn't know. What are you studying?'
	'Well, it's like a practical course,' he said. 'It's a new
field. You won't have heard of it.'
	'Try me!' I said.
	'Sure,' he said. 'Good idea.'
	'What?'
	'It's called Analogy,' he said.
	'Oh.' I wracked my brains. 'I thought that meant giving an example
through a comparison.'
	'No mate. It's an ancient, er, healing skill.'
	'Really? I've never heard of it.'
	'No? Well, it's new to this country, mate. It's exciting.'
	'Sounds it. So you're at the forefront?'
	'Yeah. Well, it's the kinda guy I am, mate. I like to get in
there.'
	'I'm very happy for you,' I said. This guy was amazing and I never
knew. I was blown away.
	'I'm just short of practice,' he said. 'That's why I was looking.'
	'Eh?' And then I remembered. Torn shorts. Fuck! 'You were looking?'
	'Oh yeah, mate. I was staring really hard at your arse.'
	'Er, really?' I must have looked uncomfortable because he laughed.
	'No, it's nothing like that, mate, it's my course. We have to take
extra interest in the human body.'
	'Oh, I see!' I sighed with relief. I didn't want some little
pervert spying on my bum.
	'Yeah, we do loads of anatomy. It's really practical. Hands-on. But
the teacher wants us to go away and find people we can try it out on.'
	'And you've asked your mates I presume?'
	'The thing is, teacher said the bigger the better. And seeing you,
well, you're massive.'

I grinned. Yeah, I was massive. I was so proud of my big body. Everyone was
intimidated by it, it overshadowed everyone I knew. I could see why he'd
thought of me. It must be so much easier working on someone as big as me,
I'm like a scaled up version of a man.
	'So you looked at me...?' I said.
	'Yeah, I looked at you, mate...' He grinned up at me. I smiled
back. 'You're perfect, mate.'

I know it. I am perfect. Everyone says so. I'm what every man wants to be,
what every woman wants to fuck. But in a modest way, you know, I'm not a
wanker about it. But, yeah, I'm perfect. I'm glad Liam noticed. I always
appreciate being reminded how superior I am. It's comforting, really. Well,
it's just right.

	'Perfect for you to train with?'
	'Yeah. Just the right size.'
	'Size is important then?' I asked.
	'Oh god yeah! Makes all the difference. Specially in Analogy.'
	'And you'd like to train on me?'
	'I need to practice,' he said. 'And you have the perfect body,
mate. I'd love to give it a go.'
	'Okay, well, I've not got anything to do for a couple of hours, so
I'm in your hands.' He looked made up, rubbed his hands together and
smiled.
	'Come over to mine,' he said.

His bedroom was typical teenage stuff - a total mess, games consoles and
wires all over the place, magazines and gadgets strewn everywhere, heaps of
clothes thrown all round the room, empty cans of beer and full ashtrays
round and about. He indicated I should sit my torn shorts on the edge of
his bed so I did so, feeling much too big for the room. That was the thing
about being me - I was huge - tall and muscular and assertive. I took over
spaces. No wonder people felt so small next to me. Liam was small, wiry,
weasel-like. He was fiddling with his laptop. Eventually a website came
up. It looked pretty serious and technical. Dr Scott's Analogy Clinic it
was headlined. Liam entered his password and suddenly we were looking at
lots of anatomy drawings and photos. They were all of the male arse.
	'Here we go!' said Liam, grinning at me. 'Here's the good bit.'
	'Why's there only pictures of arses on here, Liam?' I asked.
	'Well, that's the bit of anatomy Analogy is to do with,' he
said. 'The arse.'
	'Right,' I said. 'Is that it?'
	'Well, Dr Scott believes that because of the concentration of
receptors round your arse it's really receptive to stimulation.' He clicked
the mouse and a small mpeg started playing. A stocky guy about my age,
maybe a bit younger, was on all fours on a bench. He was wearing shorts and
a t-shirt. In front of him stood another guy, more formally dressed,
speaking to camera.

	'Hi there,' said the guy. 'I'm Scott and this is Jack and Bouncer.'
I looked round to try to see Bouncer. It was just the two of
them. Odd. 'This is an instructional training video for the ancient art of
Analogy, also known as Arse Whispering.' I laughed. Liam scowled at me. I
tried to watch it more seriously. 'It's been a dying art, but a few of us
have revived the practise. The male rear is one of the most sensitive
receptors in the body, but it's also a long distance from the brain. But
that can't account for the extra sensitivity some bottoms have in
comparison to others, especially when they're at the larger end of the
spectrum. Take for example Jack here. He's a classic example.' The film cut
to a shot of Jack running on a rugby field and training. Then he was sat on
a bench in the changing room, talking to camera.
	'I thought it was a joke, like,' he said. 'But the more he
explained it the clearer it got. It's my arse, see? It's more sensitive
than most. It sends out vibrations. Other guys can sense them if they tune
in. Like Scott. He could sense it right away. And that's how we discovered
Bouncer.' It cut back to the studio, with Jack on all fours in shorts and a
T. Scott stood behind him.
	'Jack was lucky,' said Scott.  'His backside was sending out a
pretty strong signal, but he'd never noticed. But with my special training
I noticed it right away.' He reached out and eased down Jack's
shorts. Underneath Jack was naked, and I stared at his big round rugby
player's arse. Mine was definitely bigger, I thought to myself
proudly. 'The signal was coming from here,' said Scott, running a finger
down the crack of Jack's bare arse. 'Or more specifically, from his little
hole, which was trying to muffle the signal.'

	Then it was Jack's voice over while I watched Scott pull his cheeks
apart and expose his hole.
	'I was sceptical at first, but as soon as Scott had made contact, I
knew he was right. Hidden in my arse was a weak signal eager to escape. I
could feel it, and how keen he was to meet a new friend.' I was engrossed
in the DVD, and had forgotten all about Liam till he tapped me on the
shoulder. I looked over at him, so much younger, smaller and less powerful
than me, and I felt so superior. He patted the bed and grinned at me, and I
knew what he was suggesting. Immediately I got up on all fours on the bed,
and went back to watching the film. Scott's finger was edging round Jack's
hole.
	'It was almost whining like a dog,' said Jack. 'I could feel it. My
arse felt so desperate to communicate with Scott.'

	I jumped as I felt Liam's smooth finger crawl through the hairs of
my arse crack. I shuffled my thighs apart to give him better access.
	'It was amazing,' said the voice over from the screen. 'He knew my
arse was smothering a signal, and when he tapped on my hole I knew he was
just going to have to communicate with it. So I spread a bit more and he
knew just what to do.' I felt Liam trace ever so lightly round my hole. It
was remarkable, it suddenly felt so warm and alive there, like his fingers
were awakening something that I'd been suffocating with my big fat arse all
this time. He tapped my hole like on the screen and I felt it twitch. It's
funny, but the way he was talking about it, like it was a dog - well,
suddenly it all made sense. My arse felt like it had its own mind and it
was keen to meet Liam.

The picture changed to one of Jack's bare arse from the side, and then
Scott's rugged face came into view level with it, looking straight at the
hole.
	'I could sense Jack's arse was hiding something, so I decided to
investigate,' said the voice over, which had switched back to Scott's calm
and capable voice. 'There was something hidden in there that needed to
communicate...' Jack's big hands appeared and clasped a meaty arse cheek
each and spread them apart. Jack winked at the camera and then leant
forward and his face vanished into the deep crevice. 'And so I went in and
tried to make contact.'

I knew what to do. I got up from all fours, then bent over the edge of the
bed so I could still watch the screen. Liam pulled down my torn shorts. At
first I tried to stop him, but then I realised he was just copying the
example on the screen. I spread my bare arse, and reached back and clasped
a big fat cheek in each hand, and eased them apart. I could feel Liam's
breath between my sweaty cheeks. A finger returned and gently tickled my
hole again and I squirmed. On the screen it looked like Jack's butt had
swallowed Scott's face, as Scott's head was pushed tightly between the
cheeks of the rugby player's big bottom. And then I felt it. The smooth
skin of Liam's cheeky face as it rubbed against the flesh of my crack. And
then something soft and fleshy against my hole, becoming wetter and
wetter. His lips. My young neighbour's lips had parted and his tongue was
lapping at my secret little hole. It was such a shocking feeling, so
intimate and unexpected that it took all of my strength not to jump up and
run away. But instead I toughed it out. Liam knew what he was doing. I was
helping the poor guy practise. I couldn't help having such a great arse to
practise on.

On the screen there were shots of Jack's face, red and perspiring as Scott
worked away at his other end with his tongue and lips.
	'And this was the moment we discovered Bouncer,' said Scott. And
Jack's eyes closed and his legs spread wider and his whole body seemed to
suddenly relax and open up to Scott's rear-entry inspection. 'The eager
little soul needing petting and communication hidden in Jack's arse.' I
wanted to scoff, it seemed preposterous. But the tongue, the tongue, it was
licking and he was panting in my hole, my cheeks were spread and my hole
was wet and twitching. Liam's face was pushed hard into my rear end now and
I shuffled my thighs further apart for him. And a warm, amazing feeling
started to grow, spreading out from my hole. And it suddenly struck me,
Liam had found my Bouncer. Only later he told me mine wasn't called Bouncer
at all. It was called Bubba. And that was it. From that moment on I knew I
had Bubba between my big fat cheeks, an eager little thing hidden away, and
I knew I had to look after him as much as I could.

That day I spent several hours with my legs spread having young Liam's face
buried between my cheeks, communicating with Bubba. He would emerge now and
again, grinning face red and wet with saliva and sweat, and tell me how he
was getting on with Bubba and how I could spread more for him to him
explore. It felt good being such a big alpha male being able to help out
such a little feller for his studies. And so it became a regular thing, he
would text and I'd pop over and pull down my shorts and bend over, and he'd
start licking and slurping at my tight hole. I really felt Bubba develop
and become much more demanding. Soon I was the one texting him, and asking
him to service Bubba. It was an itch I couldn't satisfy any other way, and
my wife wasn't really interested. My neighbours were curious that I spent
so much time with their son. I sometimes wondered if they could hear Liam
talking to Bubba and slurping at my hole. Though so far they hadn't come in
the room when he'd been between my big fat bare cheeks.

And then he told me that he'd been in touch with Scott and had told him all
about Bubba and me. He took pictures of Bubba while I was tied to a frame
he'd got to strap me to which kept Bubba spread open and exposed at all
times. I tried to get him to stop and delete them, but he'd emailed the
snaps to Scott before I was unstrapped, and I can't help feeling a pang of
pride to find out that he was very interested. Well, of course he was. I
was the alpha male of our street. My arse was big and fat and in
control. Which was when he told me we should go and introduce ourselves,
and Scott was very keen to meet Bubba and get between my fat arse cheeks
himself.

But that's another story...


If you enjoyed this story, email johnnymanipulator@gmx.com - love
hearing details about what you liked and what turns you on.