Hmm ... walk with a womanly roll to my hips, when I was eight or so. Not that I had any hips, any ass, to roll, but I was trying.“And he was laughin.... Once he described it to my mother, she was laughing. When the nickname got dropped... “Well, one day when I was sixteen, Dad said “Margaret, she’s got hips, she’s got a butt, and they’re dancing” and while I was mortified – because I’d stopped even dreaming of having that kind of walk – the magic had happened, I wasn’t having to try, and my. My long red nail traces the waistband of your jeans. The rhinestone studs on the tip of each nail drag slowly over your stomach. I feel them relax again as I move to the button that keeps you encased. You raise from your knees to stand in front of me. My hands tremble as they pull your zipper downward, my lips go to kiss your stomach and my tongue dances around your navel. As my hands go to your hips and slide your pants off my head follows them until it is even with the swollen head of your. More

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