My ass is a handful

She reaches back and grips it herself, fingers pressing into the flesh to show you exactly what you'd be working with — dense, warm, more than one hand can manage.

The curve starts at the small of her back and drops hard, a shape that pulls your eye and holds it, the kind of geometry that makes you forget what you were doing a moment ago.

You'd need both palms flat against it just to feel the full weight of it, and even then something would spill over the edges, soft and insistent.