A fantasy made reality - Pt 3

I would like some feedback. I think its closer to the truth if she never sits naked. Thoughts?

  • Need naked sitting to work

    Votes: 8 25.0%
  • Clothed sitting has its own allure

    Votes: 24 75.0%

  • Total voters
    32
May 21, 2007
80
7
8
#1
A fantasy turned reality – Pt 3


I waited. I waited and I waited for her to send me a text. She said she needed time to think about it. I didn’t wanna call her and ask her again. I think I made it pretty clear just how much I wanted it. It was all up to her now.


But a week passed and then another one. I was starting to lose hope. I mean it became all I could think about. What happened that day was my fantasy for so long. And now I was terrified that it was going to go back to being just a fantasy. Because that sucked. Every night spent masturbating to just the idea of girls sitting on my face and finally at long last, it did happen. But it was just that one time? Did it really matter that it happened?


I couldn’t focus on work. Every day I would check my phone regularly to see if she had dropped me a text. What was the hold up? Was she teasing me on purpose? She knew just how much I wanted her on my face. She must have known how much it hurt me and still I stayed absolutely still.


It got to the point where I was crafting these long messages to her, telling her how much I appreciated her doing what she did and what it meant to me. But she didn’t respond. I changed my tactics. I started begging her. “Please do it to me again. I cant go on living without you in my life. Please I’ll do anything!”


And still no response. I started drinking a little more so that I could at least fall asleep during the night. Part of me wanted to know for sure. Why wasn’t she getting in touch. Was it really over? But if that were the case, I’d rather not find out. I’d rather live my life in hope than know that she would never sit on my face again.


I was checking my messages one fine Sunday, when suddenly I noticed that my net connection had stopped working. I immediately panicked. What if she sent me a text? I wasted no time in getting a data pack for my phone so that I could stay online. So what if it cost a lot more.


And just like that I was back online. And as soon as I was, I saw that I had a new text. My heart had learned to stop being hopeful every time I got a text. It had been over two weeks. But then I saw that it was indeed from her, and my heart skipped a beat.


It was a short message, but very clear. It said, “Come over, bring some KFC”. I had an overwhelming desire to reply “Yes Mistress”. I suppose it’s the conditioning from all that porn. But I made do with “On my way” instead.


I’ve never driven that fast before. As I stood in line for the chicken, I found myself shivering. This was something way more primal than anything else life had to offer. Not the chicken, but the… anticipation. I was going to be in that delicious position again. Feeling that exact same feeling, that smell, that darkness, that sense of being under her mercy.


It was so strong that I even managed to enjoy it. The anticipation was always part of the allure after all. I got the chicken and managed to reach her house within the hour, despite the traffic. As I parked the car and walked to her house, I wondered whether her parents were home. I hadn’t planned this out! What was I gonna tell them? That I was in the area? Why did I bring KFC then?


But on some other level, I also didn’t care. I mean she told me to come over. Worst case scenario, she was just using me for delivering free fried chicken. Maybe she’d just laugh at me and send me home after accepting the chicken. I didn’t care. Even that would turn me on at this point. I would be such a cuckold.


I knocked on the door and waited. The fried chicken tried to entice me with its smell. But it was nothing compared to the heaven that awaited me beyond the door. She took her sweet time answering the door. But when she did, it was worth it.


The door opened to reveal that she was wearing exercise attire. She had on a lose T shirt and a pair of grey tights. She had been exercising too. Her skin was glowing. She flashed me a wide smile even though I was just blankly checking her out. If saliva was literally dripping from my mouth it couldn’t have made it worse.


“Well are you gonna come in?” she asked, tilting her head. She was leaning on the door a little, showing off her body in the process. God she was perfect.


“Umm yeah” I muttered and offered up the KFC. “Wow you really got it. I thought you’d just tell me to fuck off” she giggled and snatched the bucket away from me. She walked over to the TV and turned it on. “I’m really hungry. Do you mind if I just eat first?” she asked, and proceeded to move to the couch. I stood there, graciously agreeing with her. “Yeah yeah you’ve been exercising. Of course you’d be hungry”.


She sat down with the bucket, watching TV and started chomping into the chicken. I stood there wondering what I was supposed to do, but she just ignored me.


But suddenly she said, “Hey I’ve always felt that this couch was too low. I don’t feel good eating on it”. She was full of shit of course. I mean the couch was way higher than my bean bag chair was. But then it clicked what she was really telling me. I felt myself suddenly being kickstarted. My fetish was raging in full swing again.


“Umm maybe you could uh.. you could sit on me and eat. It’d be higher at least…” I trailed off, wondering whether she was just going to laugh at me again. She was wearing tights. That’s the dream! It almost seemed too good to be true. I didn’t deserve it.


She pretended to ponder about It for a while, knowing that every second she waited, I was dying with anticipation. But soon she broke out in a small giggle and said, “OK sure let’s see if that works”. By God, I felt a shock in my very core when she said it. It was so casual for her and yet so life changing for me. She had so much power over me that it was crazy.


She didn’t get up. She watched me with mild amusement as I approached her and sat down in front of her. I turned around and tilted my head back and looked up at her. She looked down on me, smiling and shaking her head. Of course, it must be silly to her.


Her butt was the object of my attraction and fantasies for so long that it was stronger than any personal belief I had. The thought of her butt stayed with me wherever I went. Being an atheist, I dare say her butt was as close to God as it ever got.


“Okay… here we go again. I guess you’re all psyched because I’m not wearing jeans huh?” she asked me, still not getting up. This woman knew how to tease. I didn’t have my wits about me to carry on a conversation with her. It was too close. I wanted it now. I didn’t wanna wait.


Then suddenly, she lifted up from the couch and gently pushed my head back all the way down into the couch. She didn’t even get up fully; just lifted up enough to slide my head in there. I saw the perfect shape of her butt, tightly wrapped in her leggings as I waited with my head on the sofa.


Her butt was indeed a bit bigger. The jeans she wore the other day had done a good job of hiding this. I saw that her tights were slightly damp from the exercise. There were even small lines of fresh sweat stains all over her butt and a big one right down the middle. I gazed up at her looming ass, mesmerized as if it was some form of abstract artwork. I was sure that if I stared at it long enough I could understand everything about life.


Time always slowed down for me when she sat down. This was a good thing since it let me see her butt slowly approaching close to my face. The butt got bigger as the cheeks spread and by the time it reached my face it had gotten big enough to block out all light. I felt my breathing go shallow and raspy once again as I lay there, eclipsed by her beautiful behind.


And then suddenly there was silence. I closed my eyes right in the nick of time before her weight landed on my face. I felt that familiar sensation of my head plunging into the depths of the couch. Her butt was completely on my face now. SHE was completely on my face now.


Her butt was so ridiculously soft. It was a striking contrast to the punishing eroding pain her jeans had brought about. The soft fabric of her tights gave way easily and filled up the hills and valleys of my face. I felt her butt pushing my eyes deep into their sockets as my nose slid smoothly in between her ass cheeks. I knew I didn’t deserve something so wonderful.


“All comfy down there?” she asked, gently shaking her butt on my face. I made a long ummph noise to let her know that I was fine. I had to use my neck muscles to make sure she didn’t fall off when she shook her booty, but apart from that it was almost painless. I mean an average guy might still feel that it’s too much pain, but considering what I got in return for that pain? Like I said, almost painless.


This really was too good to be true. And it was. I was so caught up in the excitement of it all that I had forgotten about everything else. Even the need to breathe. But I was starting to realize that she had me almost sealed in there. I thought maybe I could try to sneak in some air through the side of my mouth. I really should have tried to do it earlier though. There was not enough time.


I struggled silently and slowly so that she won’t notice my herculean efforts to stretch my mouth as much to the side as possible. I didn’t know how much more my mouth needed to travel before I could get some delicious fresh air.


But time was not on my side. But I still kept at it. If I caused her to spill her bucket she was not going to be happy. And at long last, I was able to sip a tiny pocket of air. It tasted like some fancy cocktail, my brain inventing new flavors from the lack of air. This opening wasn’t always available however. Only when she swayed a little I was able to sip in tiny bits of air. I wasn’t sure I could keep this up. It required quite a bit of concentration and effort. Veins were popping all over my forehead from all the exertion. But more importantly, I couldn’t pay full attention to her sitting if I had to keep focusing on my own breath.


I heard her laugh that deep laugh that girls have. The one that shows mild but genuine amusement. She must have realized I was barely holding on to consciousness the way she was sitting. “I suppose you did bring me food. So I guess I’ll cut you some slack” she said and lazily lifted up her left leg and placed it on my lap.


It was the wrong leg to left up. I had spent so much time trying breathe from under her right butt cheek. Now that small gap was completely closed because she was leaning ever so slightly to the right. It was crazy how such nonchalant movements of hers were the difference between life and death for me.


I once again tried to skew my face, this time to the left. It was a lot easier since her leg was lifted up. I reached air a lot faster. I breathed silently and gratefully. She truly was so kind and merciful. I didn’t deserve her kindness. She should have left me there struggling to breathe.


Soon she followed suit with the other leg as well so that the bucket of chicken could nest more easily on her lap. One again a lot of her weight was entirely on the top half of my face and sank that part even deeper into the couch. My neck muscles were being pushed to its extremes now. It didn’t help that the couch was a lot taller than my bean bag cube.


I started to feel that the position I was in was way more punishing than her actual weight on my face. But every time I felt myself start to complain I would stop and remind myself how lucky I was to be there enjoying her delicious warm weight pressing down on my face like a hug.


Maybe I could have talked about it to her a little. She could easily make this a lot more bearable for me with almost no difficulty. Maybe I could tap out when I really couldn’t breathe and she’d let me quickly grab a couple mouthfuls before sitting back down again. I think that’s how most people do it. There’s a lot of communication since this was a semi dangerous fetish to have.


If I could do all that, customize my whole face seat experience…. It would be lot easier… but a lot less magical. No, I was fine the way things were. I wouldn’t change a thing. I liked that she was in control. I loved that she was in control.

To be continued….
 
Likes: lycrafan
May 21, 2007
80
7
8
#6
I also want to thank mustang, sauur for consistently reading this story. It’s a personal one which is why I haven’t been replying to your generous reviews. I’ll keep writing and you keep reading yeah?