May I sit this on your face?

You catch a glimpse of those yoga pants stretched impossibly tight across a full, round ass, and your mouth goes dry before your brain catches up.

You want to reach out and grip both cheeks, feel the warmth radiating through that thin fabric pressed against your palms. You already know exactly how that weight would feel lowering itself down onto you.

You don't need to answer the question — your body already has. You tilt your head back, eyes up, waiting for that moment when everything goes dark and perfect and yours.