I love stubble. The texture of it against my skin, the gentle scratching and nuzzling. Particularly when that stubbly face is rubbing snugly up into my most intimate places – the back of my neck and shoulders, across my tummy, and up my thighs as I lie face down on the bed, right into the crease at the top of my legs that leads up to my bottom.
Have I mentioned before how much I love bottom worship? Call it what you like: bottom, bum, (ass, for my American boys) – all the same to me as long as your face is buried right in it. Intimate body worship is one of my favourite things – partly for the stubble, I won’t lie. It’s a gorgeous sensation: gentle roughness that adds to the naughtiness and taboo of having someone’s face pressed deep into me.
I like to lie on my stomach, back arched slightly to present my bottom in just the right position – pretty as a picture, and all ready for you to push your nose and mouth into. I have a pretty sizeable derriere, round and smooth and just right for worshipping, smothering, snuggling and nuzzling. I’m often told that it’s perfectly peachy and luscious, and I adore lying on the bed with it presented beautifully for someone. There’s nothing that makes me happier than a guy who wants to bury his face in it, feeling my warm cheeks press against his face, inhaling deeply to get that gorgeous musky aroma. Dropping deep into a really submissive headspace and letting go of every thought in his mind that’s not solely focussed my body.
When I’m in a submissive mood (and when I am, my bottom is invariably being punished), I love indulging in aftercare that focuses purely on my round bottom – you inspecting it closely, gently parting my cheeks and running their hands all over it. Squeezing and rubbing and kissing me all better after a spanking.
When I’m being dominant, I love to use my bottom to smother the face of my play partner: pressing down onto him and intoxicating him with the scent and the sensation and the sexiness. Sometimes teasing with the crease just out of reach, stirring the idea that if he’s a good boy he’ll be rewarded with the taste of my warm skin. Sometimes going all-out as if I’m trying to suffocate him, overwhelming him with the decadent joy of having my hot thighs wrapped right around his face, until he’s red-faced and gasping for air.