Post-gym facesitting while she games

Description: "she came back from the gym—sweaty, glowing, breathless from the treadmill. she barely said a word. just tossed her bag down, grabbed a protein shake, and flopped onto the bed like it was any other day. but this time, she didn’t sit next to me. she laid on me. backwards. casual. thoughtless. her back reclined against my chest, her full weight settling down—her ass finding its place right on my face like it belonged there.she’s still in her gym clothes—tight scrunch leggings clinging to her like a second skin, soaked in heat and effort. the fabric hugs every curve, pulling her cheeks in so tight they form a perfect valley for my nose to disappear into. and it does. she shifts once to get comfortable, and suddenly i’m gone—nose buried, mouth sealed off, trapped between the slick, musky warmth of her post-workout ass.the scent hits me instantly. raw. salty. deep. the sweat from her session still clings to her skin beneath the fabric, and every inhale makes it into my lungs. it’s overwhelming—feral, human, hers. my body tenses, but i don’t dare move. i’m not here to squirm. i’m here to take it.she’s already booting up her game, controller in hand, legs stretched out, fully settled like i’m just the couch. she leans forward slightly, and with every subtle movement—shifting her weight, grinding down without even noticing—i’m smothered deeper into her ass. there’s no space to breathe. no air. just her.she doesn’t talk to me. doesn’t acknowledge me. i might as well be a cushion, a thing—here only to support her as she relaxes after her workout. my arms lie at my sides, every part of me focused on staying still, staying quiet, staying useful. my whole world is the stretch of her leggings, the sweat-soaked heat of her crack, the pressure flattening my face, and the scent—god, the scent—of a woman who just worked her body to the limit and now needs somewhere soft to sit while she plays.and all i can do is breathe her in. or try to."