When I was in highschool I had the fortune of many hot pubescent girls around me, all the time. One in particular was a nerdgirl named Jenny. I remember once, in gym class, she was in these magnificent bootyshorts (she had a great queenly donk, the ass of one’s dreams) and she bent low to pull the gym-bleachers from their retracted state (she was chosen to do this because of her nice butt); she heaved and grunted, little beads of sweat on her forhead, her muscles tensing, her booty-fat trembling.
You cannot imagine the extent to which I wanted to just lunge at her backside, to bite it, to yank her shorts down and knead it like dough, to shove my middle finger deep in her asshole and make her squeal.
There is no “you,” there is no “me,” there is only Jenny’s ass.