Under Tori’s Butt – butt-style facesitting

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 k*d 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.

She was light in weight yet she occupied me entirely. The universe became Tori’s ass. Nothing else existed. All I could see and feel was the exquisite softness of Tori Rollins’ butt softly nestled and rolling on my face and I knew it was pressing her scent onto my face through those sexy thin panties.

I lay motionless. Sometimes she talked. I don’t know about what. Sometimes she moved and I felt those movements through the springiness of her buttocks. I felt the heat of her anus on the nubbin of my nostrils. She lifted to give me air, then sat right back down as if I had no say in things which, of course, I didn’t.

I wish I had words to adequately express how much I loved it and how much I hated when it ended a half-hour later. When she got off of me, I felt the cooler air of the room rush to my heated face. I felt dizzy, not from her weight but from sheer sensual overload. A high school girl had just sat on my face! A dream had just come true!

I have no idea how I walked home but I loved that Tori’s smell was in my senses. I told myself I would never wash my face again. I masturbated over and over with that scent in my nostrils and the feel of her ass on my face still so vivid. There were many fantasies that night and much handiwork to be done.

I wondered if it would be hard to see Tori again, I mean, my face had been in her butt. Had I become too strange now? Maybe just a laughable buttface?

Those fears yielded with her friendly “Hi!” a couple of days later and a whispered question, “Do you want me to sit on your face again?”

I couldn’t muster a response but her hand pulled mine and I followed like a hapless lap-puppy. I watched that cute gymnast butt wiggle and jiggle as she walked ahead of me and that made me ever-so eager to lay down. Again it was a high heaven, that second time when she again sat on my face.

But something within me felt bothered and I soon realized what it was. Having Tori Rollins sit on my face was more excitement than I had ever dreamed. It was my entire world. Yet for her, it just seemed like nothing more than a casual and curious amusement. It wasn’t at all fair and it seemed immune to change.

I remember a night in late April when it was raining outside and she had invited me over after school. When I joined her in her bedroom, she was on her cell phone. She put her finger before her lips to silence me while she sat on her bed with her slender right leg over her left knee while her toes dangled a brown leather sandal.

She talked to for quite some time and I began to fidget because it was cutting into my time with her. I didn’t protest because I didn’t have that right. Well, okay yes, because I also didn’t have the spine.

She seemed to sense my dilemma. She stood and pointed to the bed and traced her finger through the air as if to tell me to lay on the bed with my head at the edge, right where she had been sitting.

When I was in place, I saw her from an upside-down point-of-view. She didn’t look at me. She just lowered until she was sitting on my face. It was crazy. She had targeted herself to my nose and had never once even looked. How in the hell do girls do that?

She was wearing a thin, thigh-length skirt and she didn’t push it up to sit. She just sat on my face with her skirt like it would be if she was sitting at her desk at school. Every time she spoke to her friend, the vibrations from the core of her body resonated through my skull.

It was so different because in all of her prior facesittings, she had been in a reverse position, but this time, she was facing away from me with her feet on the floor. It wasn’t my favorite position, but it left my mouth uncovered and I was able to breathe without her ever having to get up.

I lay still with silent reverence, not wanting to disturb her because I didn’t want her to stop. She seemed inattentive although there was an occasional roll of her butt over my face as she changed leg positions. It was different, but my face was in her butt and I was exceedingly grateful.

Another memorable time came when she had invited me over but when I arrived, she wasn’t there. Instead, her mother directed me to a storage shed in back where Tori was rummaging through old chests to find a costume for an Easter party. “Come on, help me find it!” she ordered.

I was on my knees and digging through things while she was standing and leaning over. At one point, she straightened and then turned away from me. Her round butt was inches from my face and I gained a greater understanding of the importance of kissing a girls’ asses. I didn’t kiss, but at least I understood.

She squealed as she pulled a four-foot, purple, mohair snake-scarf from somewhere. She looked at me. “Finally!” she said. After some thought, she continued, “Oh. Yeah. I remember. Don’t worry. We’ll do it here. Lay down.”

We were in the shed! It wasn’t private. What if someone walked by the alley-side windows? What if her mother came out? However, I was too much of a buttface wimp to argue and I was soon on my back on the dusty floor.

She pulled her shorts off and revealed thin bikini panties with quarter-sized black polka dots. She squatted over me and then sat on my chest. She moved back slowly and with familiar expertise, Tori Rollins sat on my face—again! Mmmmmm. Yes, THE Tori Rollins!

She sat for a longer time than usual and she smelled soooooo good. After a solid butt-grinding, my face had a beautiful perfume that would come in “handy” later that night.

Another memorable time came just after midnight in the month of May. She had come home from a date and asked me to come over. Despite my jealousy, I succumbed to her invitation and then to her notion of facesitting.

Her soft buttocks pressed to my cheeks in her bedroom which was nearly dark. She talked on her cell to a girlfriend. It was strange, her talking about one guy while sitting on the face of another. When I compared my place with her to that other guy, I was warmed with the belief that my place with Tori was much better.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She jumped and straightened her clothes. She opened the door.

“Tori, it’s late—Bryan, what are you doing here?”

“He was … just … making sure my date went well, which it did. He was just checking on me.”

Her mother’s head tilted. So did my nerves. She said, “Okay, but it’s time for him to leave.”

I wondered if she suspected; if she knew. But then, how could she? Besides, if she knew, she would have said something.

Tori sat on my face another two-dozen times before the end of the school year. Sometimes she was fully dressed, sometimes in panties, and sometimes bare-assed. Mmmmmm.

The first time her bare butt met my face, I became aware of its tackiness. Like, it was dry but with some kind of thin adhesive that sealed her rectal skin to that of my face. Anytime she lifted, it felt like a light prying-apart before we were truly separated. The smell of her bare ass was a little stronger—like espresso is to coffee—but oh how I loved it.

As the school year was winding down, I received the bad news.

Tori was going to spend two months with her father in Arizona. She would leave June 13th, two days after the school year ended. But, what in the hell would I do? I had become so hooked on her facesitting me and … her smell. And I felt angry that while the news was devastating to me, it seemed to have little impact on her.

What a sap! What a sucker I was! It wasn’t her fault. I was the one who had become so lost in her ass that I had ignored common sense and the probability that the day would come when her butt wouldn’t be in my face. I was the one who hadn’t planned ahead.

And so, I began looking for handrails. Something to hold on to. Anything to prop me up so I could come to some kind of a future without her. I thought one handrail might be Angela, but I could never approach a girl like her. Maybe hookers. But hell, I didn’t have money for hookers.

Then, I realized there were two handrails that I could hold on to and they could never be taken from me. They were these two facts:

1. A high school girl had actually sat on my face! No one could take that away!
2. I had smelled Tori Rollins’ butt!

The day she left, I meandered without a plan. Eventually, I stumbled to the mall and that helped. There were girls and their cute butts became fodder for more late-night handiwork which was seeming more and more to be the preferred panacea for the sexually downtrodden.

A week later as I was returning from the neighborhood convenience store, I heard a voice. It was Tori’s mother standing with the screen door open and a half-burnt cigarette in her hand.

Lori was a full woman. She had thickish thighs but not fat. A full torso but not overweight. Her hair was very fine, mostly brown, and tinged with silvery-gold strands. Her face was squarish and while it was clearly that of a woman in her 40’s, it retained sharp features from her youth that evoked reminders of just how pretty she had once been.

She called me over and crushed the cigarette. “I know you miss Tori. Why don’t you come in. We can talk about. I’m sure it will help.”

She offered to pour some of her beer into a glass. I declined.

She made small talk and told me that “Tori has friends in Mesa. Making friends has always been easy for her.” She stood and ambled toward me. “It’s nice she can do that. Not everyone can. Like … Like you. You don’t seem to, do you—make friends easily? I never see you with anyone. Was Tori your only friend? That must be why you look so forlorn.”

I wished I had accepted her beer.

“Or, is there something else? Is there? I mean … you know …” She paused again.

“The other.”

Other? What?

“Bryan. I’m not stupid. I know about ‘the other’.”

I was sitting on the sofa and she approached and knelt and her fingertips touched my denim-covered knees. Her smile was friendly. “Silly boy. Of course I noticed.”

“Those vacant eyes. How you watch her.” She was close enough for me to smell beer on her breath.

“The panty lines.”

“Wh … what … ?”

“Panty lines, Bryan.” Her eyes studied mine. “On your face.”

I felt my head going side-to-side with some unauthorized and hapless attempt to deny what she was saying.

“Bryan, I’ve been around. I know she was sitting on your face—everytime you came over here. Just admit it. Besides … you’re not the first.”

Not the first? What?

“I’m quite sure she’s being doing it for quite some time.” She sipped some beer and then with surprising indifference added, “Like mother; like daughter.”

I couldn’t remember my logical pathways ever being more disordered.

“Bryan, if you admit it, then I can help you deal with her being gone. I mean … after all … “ she said while her index finger softly circled my cheek, “it’s not every day that I get to sit on such a pretty young face.”

Was she serious? Did she … but, she was a full woman … I couldn’t … I wouldn’t … would I?

“All Summer, Bryan. As much as you like. You come over anytime and I will sit on your face.”

I couldn’t … to many reasons … she wasn’t high school … full woman’s rear … suffocate … not the same … Tori finding out … I couldn’t …

But, she had said “all Summer”. Sit on my face … all Summer. She wasn’t high school … but … all Summer. She was a full grown woman, but she had said … sit on my face … anytime. I couldn’t … but … butt-lust. I couldn’t … I wouldn’t … but … would I?

“I love sitting on faces.” Her fingered continued to circle my cheek. “Come on…”

She stood and her hand pulled mine and like a puppet with a wooden head, I followed to the threshold of her bedroom and perils unknown. Within minutes, I was on my back in a drape-drawn dim room. Her ceiling was different from Tori’s and it had a slow-whirring ceiling fan which I began wishing was an airplane propeller so it could chop me up and put an end to my intense inner turmoil.

What had I gotten myself into? Would I even survive?

Except for that fan, the room was quiet. I felt the mattress move and without looking, I knew Lori was approaching. My head screamed to run like hell but my body lay deaf.

“Now Bryan, just let it happen. We both want this so just lay still and enjoy.”

She was wearing a thin, wrinkled, cotton dress that I think is known as a kitchen or household dress. It was dulled-white and had wide, faded blue vertical stripes and was loose-fitting. She pulled it up until it revealed off-white panties that I believe are called “full backs”—something less than granny-panties, but something more than bikini. She pulled them off and flung them aside.

She straddled me and I was immediately in awe! Her ass was so much bigger than Tori’s. A full woman’s ass. Right there, bare and spreading right before my face. A full woman with a full rear-end. She hovered before me and began to slowly descend. I lay helpless—helpless to my own fear and lust and confusion and need.

Then . . .

It touched my face. My body jerked. It began to fuse itself to me. Her soft cheeks settled in and nestled down and her ass became one with my face. I felt my nose deep in the very center and . . .


It was . . . How do I say it?

The depths of her deep “canyon”—where my nose was—that very center of her nether universe—was…


No … more like … wet.

Actually … more like … sloshy wet.

She had eased into position on my nose by the forces of gravity and the lubrication from the viscuous goo of her humid depths. When she moved, her ass made squishy sounds and when she sat harder, it felt like she was compressing her “ass dew” into my facial skin. I wondered if it would clog my pores. I wondered if I would then get acne. I wondered if that was how those acned-ruddy faces at school got that way—because fully adult women were sitting on their faces and rubbing ass-wetness into their pores.

It was so different. Tori who had simply been tacky with near-dryness.

As Lori she slowly ground it into me, I felt some of her moisture beginning to press up into my nostrils. I knew that once it was there, the smell of her womanly rear-end would be with me for hours. Every time I breathed, I would smell Lori’s ass.

Eventually she rose and she turned around and brought her face close to mine. I had no idea what she was doing until she said, “Ah, very good! You’re beginning to smell just like you should!”

She sat for a little more than 45 minutes and when we parted, I ran home with the outside air hitting my wet face which cooled it quickly, much like an air conditioner. It smelled … I guess … sewerish, in a way. Yet, somehow was turned on by it.

As my senses returned, I remember my head crying out that I would never do it again! It had been too much. A full woman was just too … too … womanly; too powerful; too … well … ass wet. No, no, no! I would never do it again!

Yet, two days later, I was knocking on Lori’s door. She smiled and invited me in, much like an insect to a spider’s web. And, two minutes later, her round, womanly ass was parked right on my face. And once again, she covered my face in her wet stench and I lay still and absorbed it all. Her smell stayed with me for hours and when I was alone, I inhaled her butt-smell and masturbated several times.

I spent the Summer constantly under her womanly bottom. I felt comfortable with her and not self-conscious and I suppose that was because she didn’t go to our school and couldn’t tell anyone. We did it at least three-dozen times. She was always willing; I was beyond help.

And that is why I didn’t foresee an approaching problem until Lori said, “Well, Summer is winding down. Tori will be back soon. Aren’t you glad to hear that?”

Although I was overjoyed with her return, it created an instant and worrisome dilemma

What was I suppose to do? Would I have to choose? Would Tori find out that her mother was sitting on my face? Would that bring insufferable ridicule at school?

Of course, I would be glad to see her and eager to be under Tori’s butt. At the same time, her mother had sat on my face every time I wanted all Summer long. And yes, it was nasty but … well … I had come to want it.

So, would I have to choose? If so, which one? Or, could I choose both?

I laughed with the idea that I had suddenly become some kind of a “big player”; a Romeo. Yeah me, the shy boy with no visible friends. And now, I seemed to have become quite the cavalier; juggling two girls!

The problem was, I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

My body shuttered. My head shook.

What in the hell was I going to do?