Ivan positioned himself on front of his mirror, his hands going to his hips. Hot damn, he was a sexy motherfucker. The twerking music was playing in the background, and he started to rhythmically move his hips, though not in full twerk yet as the chorus played all you ladies pop your pussy like this. He checked himself out in the reflective glass of his mirror, satisfied with himself as he looked over his outfit. The tight, long sleeve white v-neck blasted back Big Booty Hoe in Sharpied letters. He could feel the music inside him, singing the song of his people. She from county but her brother gangbangin'... He arched his back, his ass going out. He was even more satisfied with his back side, as he was wearing tight, black shorts and black pants, his shirt tucked into the waist band. He had stuffed the shorts so that he looked like he had large, round butt cheeks. He almost looked like all of the Argentinean girls he wanted to stab in the face. Their butts were too nice; he really wanted to be able to put on his leggings and look like he had stuck balloons in there, like all the girls in his country. Put your ass in my face now put your ass in my face... He checked out his bootylicious butt in the mirror, letting out a roll of deep chuckles. It was time. The chorus started again, playing the pussy popping hook, and he arched his back forward, sticking his enhanced but out, and did the twerk. He went to twerk in front of that mirror, praying to any god who would listen that his mother didn't suddenly decide to come home. Wow, that would suck. She don't need to be all up in his business, she was always getting up in his grill. The music was making him ghetto, it always did. Hot damn, he knew how to pop his booty. He put his arms up, shaking them violently as he did a crunking twerk. Fuck yeah. Look at that sexy ass beast in the mirror. Mhmm, he was perfect, hands down. Ivan knew he was too sexy for this world, everyone else were just peasants in his kingdom. A kingdom that he ruled by fabulousness and twerking. Fuck yeah motherfucker. He couldn't think that enough. 'Fuck yeah motherfucker.' Beat that pussy just like you shoul, beat it right beat it good. Beat that pussy just like you shoul... He crouched a bit, his hands going to his knees so that he was twerking towards the ground now. Hot damn. Look at that booty pop. The song was ending now, ending the world of twerk he found himself in. His life would never be as exciting as this night, as he had gone past the social norms of Argentina to give himself a big, voluptuous buttocks. Maybe he'd get implants one of these days. Pop your pussy... Fuck yeah. He was great. As the song reared to an end, he pointed his butt to the mirror and looked behind him into the reflection so that he could see his butt clearly. Yeah, he was a perfect person. Hands down, he was even more perfect than Justin Bieber. He could twerk all night if he wanted to. Look at that ass- so perfectly round, like he'd put two basketballs in there. And so, the song ended. Pop pop your pussy like this, do it do it, pop your pussy like this... He needed to make this song his ringtone. Do it do it, pop your pussy like this. When the song ended, Ivan fistbumbped, letting out a loud, "Fuck yeah!"