A literotic sexstories: Under Tori’s Butt by bryanll ,
This is a story about butt-style facesitting and the joys of a male who craved it for years. Sometimes, our cravings bring more than we anticipated. This is not a story of sex but more of ass adoration.
This is a story about butt-style facesitting and a male who craved it for years. Sometimes, the things we want most come with problems we never imagined. This is not a sex or penetration story but rather one focused more on facesitting and ass-adoration.
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I wasn’t confident in my youth. I was too afraid of girls to approach them and the thought of asking one out sent shivers through me. Besides, what good would it do to ask one out if all I wanted to do was put my face in her ass? The dating pool for that kind of girl seemed predictably small while the pool for face-slappers much larger.
Girls were like goddesses. They were gorgeous and complicated and mysterious and— gawd— how I wanted to fall to my knees and worship them—I mean, just totally and completely worship them.
I still feel that way.
My apprehensions eased somewhat after we moved to a house next to Tori and I began to see her in her home environment. She seemed more … normal than the socialite I saw in school.
She greeted me one day with a smile and “Hello” over the fence but I was unable to make eye contact for fear she would see my inadequacies, insecurities, and rampant butt lust.
Eventually, I was able to converse a little but only because she did most of the talking. I am not suggesting that we became chums because we didn’t. I understood that I was just a fill-in when she had vacancies in her calendar.
There were never vacancies in her tight jeans or shorts however and she filled those to eye-popping grandeur. I mean, I might not have been the sharpest kid in school, but I sure as hell could tell if it was heads or tails on that coin in her rear pocket.
I must tell you about the time she was laying on her tummy on her bed, popping bubble gum, with an open book on her pillow. She was wearing a very thin and short denim skirt. Seeing a girl’s panties was always some kind of major triumph to me, but this time I didn’t. What I did see was her skirt clinging to the elevations of her rear-end before dipping into the canyon between and expressing the glory of just how round and scrumptious that cute little ass was.
I wasn’t into anal sex. That seemed disrespectful and, after all, girls were goddesses. They shouldn’t be defiled that way and guys like me should not think about fucking goddesses. The rightful place for a goddess was sitting on the throne of my face with my nose as the centerpiece of her preeminence.
It isn’t for everyone, but other buttfaces understand. We know that the closest match we could hope for is that our faces would be considered, not equal, but at least good enough to be pressed into their round butts.
Early on, Tori wanted to know more about me. She asked if I ever had a girlfriend? (No.) What was my mother like? (Gone a lot.) Where was my dad? (No idea.) Why did I stare at girls’ butts? (Because — wait — what?)
“Bryan, girls know. You may not think we’re paying attention but we are. So, you look at Angela’s ass in sixth period and in the halls. You want to fuck her ass, don’t you?”
I was shocked by such directness from a girl who seemed so wholesome.
I blurted, “NO!” Then restated, “I mean, no.”
She laughed. “Then what? Wait. Maybe I can guess. Like Sierra says, ‘Whatever it is that guys like, they either want to kiss it, eat it, or fuck it—or all three’. So, if you aren’t into anal sex, then …” Her index finger pressed to her lips. “You want to kiss it, don’t you? That’s it! You want to kiss Angela’s ass!”
I couldn’t answer because just hearing a girl say those words made my knees weak. She was right, but she was wrong. Yes, I did want to kiss Angela’s ass, but I would rather kiss Tori’s, or better yet, have Tori sit on my face.
She brightened. “That’s it! It’s okay Bryan. I won’t tell. There’s nothing wrong with it. Anyway, a lot of girls aren’t into having their asses kissed. Little weird. But, you might have better luck going for something more common, like ask her to sit on your face.”
I choked. Her words echoed through me … “sit on your face” … “sit on your face” … “sit on your face”. I couldn’t believe that a girl had actually said those words to me! Listen, I don’t think you understand. Those four words … If I had died right there on the spot, my life would have seemed complete.
“Have you ever thought about that, Bryan? Her eyes studied me before she added, “Because I have.”
Brain cells ricocheted in my head like shrapnel of instant stupor.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s try it.”
Was she kidding?
“Lay down.” She patted the center of her bed.
I was stunned, powerless, and soon noticing the speckles of her bedroom ceiling. She was wearing a black skirt cut a few inches above the knees. She knelt next to me with a coy smile.
“Listen Bryan, this doesn’t mean we hang out. Comprende’? We’ll do it but you better not tell!”
She pulled her skirt up. She was . . . She was actually going to do it!
The thought was like a hairbrush to my forearms.
She straddled me, her back facing me. She looked over her shoulder and into my eyes. Her gaze was unchanging; her panties soft cotton, soft yellow, and becoming thread-bare. Her back was a smooth-arch from her tailbone to her shoulder blades. Her lower back concaved to her spreading hips.
Although beautiful, the sight evoked senses of peril. Her weight was greater than my face and could pin me without recourse. The dimensions of her hips and bottom were much bigger than my face.
Plus, one had to remember: This was her fetid part and it was about to be matched to my face. The power girls held, if fully released, could devastate a person. Yet, those very fears compounded my desire as well as my paralysis.
She centered over me and the more she lowered, the more that upside-down “V” between her spreading buttcheeks opened and I marveled at how perfectly designed girls’ asses were to capture someone’s nose.
When she was within an inch … I mean, I don’t know why, but … without thinking, my nostrils flared and I … I smelled her! I know. That sounds deviant, but I am admitting a lot of things here so I admit it. I sniffed Tori Rollins’ butt. Now that some time has passed, I am proud to say it again: I sniffed Tori Rollins’ butt! Mmmmm.
Okay, so that was weird but it excited me . It smelled alien and musty and ethereal yet it also seemed tinged with some kind of sweet perfume. It was earthy yet heaven-scent. It might have been foul if not so intoxicating.
She continued to lower herself and her soft panties began pressing against my face and her butt “cushed” down onto me. I felt that open “V” accept my nose and I remember marveling at how perfectly we fit together. I could even feel the ring of her most private place pressed to the tip of my lucky nose.
I couldn’t believe it. A high school girl was actually sitting on my face! It so overwhelmed me that I felt my strength evaporate like gossamer ghosts through a solid wall.