My tabletop ass
You can't take your eyes off that tabletop ass, perfectly flat and firm enough to balance a drink on without spilling a drop.
You feel the pull of it immediately — the kind of body that makes your hands restless, your mind narrow down to a single point of want.
You imagine the weight of it against your palms, the way your fingers would press into that smooth, taut skin and find exactly the resistance you were hoping for.
