Back dimples

Those dimples on your lower back speak to me as if each were a bulls-eye for a thumb on each hand.  Moving behind you they’re sunk deep into their home, the remaining fingers splayed across your hips.  Fingers curled into your skin and gripping tight.  My arms tensing, muscles tightening and pulling your waist to mine with a clapping thud.  I want you and those dimples.  I want to smother them with my skin so they can’t breathe.  I want to deny them light and air.  Press your back against my front and let me know what it feels like to be a part of you at every point of the day.

The valley of your backside is where my passion and lust come together.  A place where I’d bend a knee and kiss and suck and cherish you in front of me.  You’d have to pull me away.  Your hips are perfect handles.  Your skin my savior.  My lips drawn to you and unwilling to part.  All nestled in a small area above your desire.  Inches away yet held until the feeling within me is undeniable and finally unleashed like a wolf on the hunt.

 

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