Rush, her bum

The times you’ve swung them before me
Just so that sway turns me on inside.
The rhythm of your full bottoms
Giving shape, as you swing, to your tight-ass jeans,
And with your burning eyes you ask me, what a hard on means.

The time you stepped up to me, in that room, against that wall,
And I held you to me, feeling the warmth of those cheeks
As I squeezed the mellow cushions of those soft, round buns,
As you stroked my naked torso, in a bid to make me free
From desire for you I’ve held back from you, the world and all.

The first time you stripped the mauve panties
And held out to me that round bottom,
Urging me to take it, as I had told you, with my mouth.
How I pulled you on to me, tonguing with lust the moment,
As you pushed down on me, I had you going in, around, and out.

Like the charged moans you let escape you
The time I entered you from back, pushing in
Penetrating that soft hold my tongue had known for weeks,
Harder and with force, my hole-hungry member,
As with my hands I grope and part your warm cheeks.

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