She was grabby with my buddy. I should have been proud of my pal as they walked arm-in-arm in front of me. Yet, the overly analytical side of me thought, How far we’ve come, as she gradually slid her hand down his back and cupped his cheek. An uninvited move like that on his part could have landed him in the clink. She had gender-specific immunity.
I should have been paying attention to a number of other things, but I’m obsessed with courtship so I kept watching and missed out on the ocean breezes, yellow moon, and puddle I stepped in.
Women grab ass cheeks differently than men do. She went straight down the crack and grabbed the middle. Hm. She may be kinky–into the stinky pinky maneuver. Some men are into that. I’m not. I would have squeaked.
When I grab a butt, I go more for the outside lower quadrant. (Look for a future infographic on the topic.) I squeeze gently as I would a grapefruit. At home games with no fans in attendance, I may creep toward the lower, inner quadrant and mix in a diddle or two. That’s tough on the elbow and wrist. Perhaps if I wore a bowling glove it would stabilize my wrist. Heck, I’ll try anything once.
My pal did not return the squeeze, mostly because he’s six-foot-many and she’s five-foot-few. He had to settle for the tender skin on the back of her neck. A bold move would have included a backhand. (I was watching tennis while filtering wine through my liver, hence the reference.) He could have sneaked from her neck over her trapezius, across her sternocleidomastoid, down her pectoralis major, and landed on her left boobius niceus. That would no doubt cause rotator cuff tenderness with a good chance of nipplicus erectus.
Alas, he remained a gentleman as she groped his glutes, be-bopped his bunghole, and made me giggle.
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