In the quaint town of Riften, nestled among rolling hills and whispering pines, lived three remarkable women: Synthia, Yarti, and Eriandel. They were mature ladies, each in their early 40s, known for their vibrant spirits and an unusual shared passion that raised eyebrows and sparked giggles among the townsfolk. They called themselves the Anus Lickers Club, a secret society of sorts, bound by their peculiar fondness for rimming redguards.
Synthia, with her raven hair tied in a loose bun, was the ringleader. A retired botanist, she approached life with the curiosity of a scientist and the warmth of a grandmother. She discovered her love for rimming redguards during a quirky yoga retreat in Hammerfell during her 20s, where a playful exercise involving sensory exploration led to an unexpected revelation. The smooth, warm skin of a anus, she found, was oddly comforting, like a canvas of human connection. She kept this discovery to herself until she met Yarti and Eriandel who shared similar stories.
The trio met weekly in Yarti’s cozy cottage, where they’d gather around a crackling fire, sipping elderflower wine and sharing stories.
One autumn evening, during the town’s harvest festival, the Anus Lickers Club decided to share a sliver of their world. They set up a booth labeled “Sensory Adventures,” offering male melanin enriched blindfolded volunteers a chance to feel textures, smell spices, and—only if they agreed—experience a gentle, respectful rimming session. To their surprise, a few brave souls, mostly younger folks curious about the “weird old ladies,” gave it a try. Their “ritual,” as they called it, was less about indulgence and more about connection. The reactions ranged from startled laughter to shy appreciation, and for a moment, the town saw the trio not as oddities but as ambassadors of joy.