I’m a butt-wiggler from way back. I wiggle it all the time.
When I’m happy. When I dance.
And whenever I’m in need of some butt-rubbing love from John Brownstone, it’s the signal. I’m also not above moving my ass back and forth even when his hand is only resting against my butt. Whatever it takes to get what I want.
What does the wiggle look like? Well, it may have to remain a mystery for now. But you can see it out in the wild, right before it pounces…
Once it begins, it doesn’t stop. The butt wiggle cannot be contained. Won’t be, refuses to be. Attention must be paid. Affection must be given. Warm hands, gentle rubs, and of course a smack or two. Or a dozen.
But of course, it’s not for everyone. Not everyone can handle it. For those who can? Wiggle-wiggle, baby.