Bubble butt
By Eric Robert, EricRRobert@hotmail.com
Greg picks a fight with the wrong girl.


"So, how'd your date with Jenny go, anyway?" I asked Greg, coming out of the
kitchen with a fresh beer.

Greg laughed. "Good and bad, I guess," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, good in that I fucked her."

"Nice."

"Bad in that that bitch is fucking crazy and I've had to duck her all week."

"Ouch," I said. "Wow, Krysta's not gonna like that."

"Bubbles? Ah, fuck her."

Krysta is my friend from, like, back when we were little kids. Last week, she
told me she had a single and lonely friend Jenny, who was really depressed
over being dumped twice in a month, and asked if I had any friends I could
hook her up with. So I set her up with Greg.

She hates the nickname "Bubbles," but most of the guys I know use it. It just
really fits her. Partly because of her personality - she's this
hyper-energetic, perpetually cheerful blonde girl. But mostly because of her
ass. She has this just unbelievable ass - so tight, and so muscular, and so
round - just like two perfect spheres. Seriously, I've never seen a girl with
such round ass cheeks in my life. Even in jeans, you can perfectly see the
outline of each cheek.

And since she's kind of a jock - she plays volleyball and basketball - she's
always in track shorts, or sweatshorts, or yoga pants. Guys just drool over
her ass. More than once, I've seen guys walking behind her walk right into a
pole - or each other.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at Greg as he brought up the nickname. "No, but
seriously, dude, she asked me to hook you up with Jenny because she had been
dumped twice... I mean... Krysta's probably getting an earful about what a
scumbag you are."

"Yeah, well, I probably shouldn't have fucked her, but she went fucking psycho
right afterwards. No, dude, you don't even know. She was talking about baby
names. Like, not five minutes after I roll off of her, she's like 'I've always
liked the name Chester.' And then she's talking about me meeting her parents.
And the next day she sends me like forty fucking text messages. It was like
every ten minutes."

"Shit," I conceded.

"Yeah, seriously."

Over the next hour, we had a few more beers, and we were feeling pretty good,
just hanging out, when there was a loud knock on the door. I went over and
looked through the peephole. Krysta was standing there in a black T-shirt and
red volleyball shorts, and she looked pissed. She was tapping her foot
impatiently. She knocked a second time while I still had my eye against the
peephole.

"Oh, no way," I said.

"Don't even fucking tell me that's Bubbles."

"Well, I won't tell you, but..."

"Wow. Tell her to go away. Or to pull her pants down! Ha!"

I ignored him and opened the door. "Hey, Kr-"

But Krysta was storming right past me toward Greg, like I wasn't even there.
"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" she shouted accusatorily. I had
never seen her this mad. She sure wasn't her usual cheerful, energetic self.

"What the fuck is yours?" Greg shot back, immediately defensive. "Setting me
up with that dumb bitch."

Krysta's face was turning red. "Jenny is not a bitch! You are going to take
that back! And you're going to call her and stop being such a damn coward!"

Greg stared at her incredulously. "Or what?"

Krysta crossed her arms over her chest. "Or I'm gonna kick your ass, you
jerk."

I had to smile. Krysta actually looked damn cute when she was mad. She just
didn't have the face for it - she looked like a pouty ten year old. Plus, here
she was, 5'9" and all of maybe 130 pounds, challenging a guy who was 5'11" and
closer to 200.

Greg apparently felt the same way. "I'd like to see you try, bubble butt."

Krysta's face was even redder. She *hated* that nickname. "FUCK YOU!" she
yelled, and stormed off into my room, slamming the door. 'Um, help yourself to
my room, Krysta,' I thought. Man, she was in a state.

There was a moment of silence.

"Wow, holy shit," I said.

"Dude, tell her to get the fuck o-" Greg started, when Krista threw open the
door, now barefoot and without her purse.

"Okay, Greg, you want to see me try, you're gonna," she said, peeling her
shirt over her head, leaving her in a red sports bra that matched her
volleyball shorts. It was one of the first times I'd seen her in a bra. She
didn't have the biggest boobs - probably B cups - but they were pretty nice
nonetheless. More impressive were her abs, which were highly visible, and her
toned arms.

"Fine!" said Greg, obviously pretty furious himself. "Don't think I'm gonna go
easy on you just because you're a girl." Seeing her stripping down, he
unbuttoned his own shirt and threw it aside. Greg was sort of in average shape
- a little muscular, a little pudgy.

"I hope you won't." said Krysta, suddenly a lot more composed than before, and
all business. Then, turning around, she slid down her volleyball shorts.

Greg gaped. I gaped. Krysta was wearing a tiny black thong, and her ass was
just unbelievable. As amazing as it looked in shorts, it was something to be
seen out of them. Her globes were like two perfect little bowling balls, so
tight and so muscular.

"Oh, and Greg," she said as she pulled her shorts to the ground and stepped
out of them, "I know you're staring at my ass. Get a good long look. Because
you're going out under it."

"Um... what?" replied Greg. "Um, no."

Eloquent.

Greg, in his jean shorts and shoes, put his hands up in a defensive stance and
began to circle Krysta. Krysta snorted at his cautious stance, stepped in, and
quickly slapped him across the face while he held his hands stupidly in the
air.

Embarassed and irritated, Greg grabbed her by the shoulders and, using his
full weight, threw her down on the carpet, coming down hard on top of her.
Within seconds, she was pinned under his larger weight. He lifted one hand and
swung a hard slap back at her face. At that point, I thought the fight was all
but over.

But Krysta caught it, grabbing his wrist in her hand before his blow could
land. Greg struggled to pull his hand out of her grip, but she held on tight.
They wrestled back and forth for a few moments. And then I noticed Greg's
knees being lifted slowly off the carpet.

Krysta had managed to get her feet under Greg's waist, and was almost
effortlessly lifting his full weight with her thighs and glutes, the muscles
in her ass flexing with the effort - which, really, didn't look like any
effort to her at all. Soon, Greg was up at a 45 degree angle, his waist in the
air, his legs pointing up toward the ceiling.

"Shit," muttered Greg, not sure what to do. He squirmed and threw his weight
from side to side, trying to throw Krysta off-balance and bring himself back
to the floor, but her strong legs had him captive up in the air. Smiling,
staring into his eyes, she held him that way for a good twenty seconds, until
his struggles subsided and he looked nervously at her, not sure what she was
going to do.

"You're going down, Greg," quipped Krysta.

"Shut up and put me down," said Greg. It was meant to sound tough, but it came
out sounding more like a plea.

Krysta didn't say anything. She just tucked her legs under her, bring Greg
down almost to the carpet, and shot them out as hard as she could, still
clinging on tight to Greg's wrists.

What happened next was pretty amazing. It happened so fast it's kind of hard
to explain. Not only did Greg go flying over her head onto his back, but as he
was falling to the floor, Krysta was using the momentum to pull herself into a
handstand just above his head, spreading her legs as she did so her body was
upside down in a perfect "T." Her ass cheeks looked so incredibly sexy in that
position that I was really squirming in my pants, my mouth hanging open... and
then she let the momentum carry her right down onto Greg's chest, landing on
top of him in the splits, her ass and sex crashing down on his chest.

"GGGGGHHHHHFFFF!" gasped Greg as Krysta's hard butt came into contact and the
air exploded out of his lungs. He opened his mouth as though to speak, or
scream, but nothing came out. There was a look of real terror in his eyes. I
realized Krysta had just completely taken all his breath... and with her
perfect ass, no less.

"Aww, did I hurt you, asshole?" Krysta teased as Greg tried to gasp for air,
but to no avail. She continued to sit on him, grinning, until a whole thirty
seconds later - which seemed like an eternity - Greg finally drew a great,
ragged breath.

And with that, Krysta slid up his body and drew her big, round, bubble butt
right over his face.

"NNN! NNN!" Greg was screaming into her ass, and then she wiggled her hips a
bit and he fell completely silent. It seemed like her ass had formed a perfect
seal over his mouth and nose. His arms and legs were flailing under her, but
he was pinned down as surely as if he were nailed to the floor.

She held him there until his arms and legs were barely moving, and then slid
off of him, leaving him gasping for air again. "So, you going to call Jenny
back? No, actually, I think you owe her a real chance. You gonna take her on a
real date?"

It took Greg almost a minute before he caught his breath enough to answer.
Miserably, he said, "Look, it's really none of your business, Bubbl... I mean,
Kryst..." but before he got out his whole sentence, her ass was sliding back
over his face.

This time, she held him down even longer. "Jesus Christ, you're gonna kill
him, Krysta!" I exclaimed, a little worried.

"Nah. Don't worry." she said.

Don't worry. Sure.

Greg's struggles became more desperate and more erratic, as though he was
realizing he was about to completely lose consciousness. Suddenly, I saw
Krysta flex her ass muscles hard. There was a crunching sound, and she slid
back off Greg's face onto his chest.

Blood was beginning to trickle from his nose. It looked really crooked and was
already starting to swell. I realized that Krysta had just broken his nose
merely by flexing her ass cheeks.

"You taking her on a date now?" she teased.

Greg was openly sobbing now, babbling incoherently. "Yes... yes... please...
please don't knock me out... your butt... oh my god... I'll do... whatever...
please..."

Smiling, Krysta stood up and took him by the hair. "I'm going to need your
bedroom for a few minutes," she said to me, and unceremoniously dragged him
through the door.

"But -" I protested, but she was already through the door and closing it
behind her.

I wasn't sure what to do. I paced around for a few minutes, listening and
trying to figure out what was going on in there. I heard a lot of sobbing and
incoherent pleading from Greg. I heard a few slaps and some muffled cries.
Before long, I was also hearing a lot of moaning from Krysta.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore - I had to see what was happening in my
room. I almost silently opened the door just a hair and looked in.

What I saw was pretty amazing. Krysta had shed her thong, and was straddling
Greg's face. She had a narrow, nicely trimmed "landing strip" of pubic hair,
and Greg had it in his mouth, sucking submissively like his life depended on
it. My big friend, who had not ten minutes ago been threatening to kick this
girl's ass, had been subsequently pummeled and smothered by that same ass, and
was now sucking her pussy like a pathetic sex slave.

I didn't leave my spot at the door for a very, very long time. Not until after
Krysta had enjoyed four or five orgams on Greg's face, and Greg was an
unconscious mess in the middle of the room.