"She didn't ask. Just walked in, grabbed her controller, and climbed onto the couch where I was already lying flat on my back—waiting, aching. Her eyes were on the screen, the console already booted up, fingers twitching with anticipation. She didn't spare me a glance as she turned around and positioned herself in reverse, straddling my chest with that slow, deliberate ease that told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

She was wearing only a tiny pair of bikini-cut pants—thin, stretchy, barely covering anything. The moment she dropped her weight onto me, I felt it all. Her cheeks spreading slightly as she settled down, warm skin and soft fabric sealing across my face. My nose slid right between her *ss cheeks, pressed snugly under the tightness of the bikini—directly beneath her *sshole, wrapped in heat, scent, and pressure.

She adjusted herself absently, wriggling back until I was positioned exactly how she wanted—my mouth muffled, my nose trapped, my entire world consumed by her body. The fabric was thin enough to feel the shape and softness of her c*mpletely, but still thick enough to hold her scent, to trap that salty, humid, feminine heat from the hours she'd spent lounging or moving or simply existing in them.

The screen lit her face, fingers tapping buttons, c*mpletely focused on the game. And I was just her seat. Her cushion. Her sm*thered, forgotten place to rest while she played.

Every time she leaned forward to concentrate, her weight shifted subtly, pressing down harder, spreading her cheeks just a l*ttle more, grinding her bikini-clad *sshole down over my face with slow dominance. I could barely breathe. I didn't dare move. Every inhale was filtered through her—warm and musky. I sn*ffed. Again. And again. And she just played, as if my face wasn't buried under her, as if I wasn't being used for nothing more than convenience and comfort.

This was pure Facesitting—effortless, thoughtless, complete. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just her, in a bikini, casually turning me into a seat while she focused on her game. No commands. No conversation. Just the weight of her *ss on my face and the silent, breathless surrender of knowing I wasn't getting up until she decided the game was over."

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