Have You Ever Died Under Your Girlfriend's Ass?
Have you ever died crushed beneath your girlfriend's ass?
The female sex is beautiful.
No—let me start again.
The female sex is exquisitely, breathtakingly beautiful.
The way it opens and closes in a breathless rhythm; the warm, yielding softness unlike any other skin; the green, living scent that rises no matter how hard you try to scrub it away; the briny-sweet taste that seeps out; the moans that answer when you caress and take it into your mouth with care…
From our very first encounter, I knew instinctively that I would never climb free of that cleft, that hole.
And I vowed to offer everything I had to that abyss.
Otherwise I never would have risked being called a pervert and dumped by my girlfriend just for a glimpse of that secret realm.
"Y-you really mean I can sit…?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
"Then… I'm really going to sit…?"
To love something with your whole heart, to want to understand it completely, is to need it as close as possible.
That was me, then.
The act of drawing a woman's sex as near as it could get to every sense I possessed—sight, touch, smell, taste, hearing.
"Nnh…"
"……"
In that sacred hour of savoring, words were unnecessary.
It had taken a long time to work up the courage to ask my decent, upright girlfriend, Sit on my face.
Her permission, though, came almost at once.
She trusted me, and I trusted her.
And this was the result.
Paradise… This is paradise…
A small opening pressed against the philtrum beneath my nose.
Heat similar to her sex, yet subtly different, settled between my brows.
For today's facesitting, my girlfriend had washed herself three times longer than usual.
Thanks to that, not the faintest unpleasant odor remained.
And if there had been one, that would have been part of the experience too.
Below that, a long canyon ran from the bridge of my nose down to my upper lip.
The pressure on my nose was surprisingly light.
Even as she rubbed her sex across my face, she was careful not to put her full weight on me—her shyness, or her consideration. Something like that came through.
Even so, the weight grew by degrees, gently pushing the tip of my nose into her.
From skin into mucous membrane.
Before I knew it, every breath I drew was thick with the scent leaking from her most private place.
I exhaled completely.
Perhaps the puff of air made her inner lips tremble; she suddenly lifted her hips a fraction, then slowly settled again.
I drew in the deepest breath I could.
The fragrance rising from deep inside her filled my lungs to the brim.
With my nose and mouth nearly sealed, breathing was a struggle—but that only meant I could taste the purest of her moisture in abundance.
How many minutes passed?
A-yeong seemed to grow used to sitting; she began to rock her hips gently forward and back.
At the same time, what had been mere dampness gathered into beads.
A scent somewhere between sweat and sap.
I put out my tongue.
When it dragged through the cleft and brushed something swollen, she startled.
"God, you're such a pervert…"
And yet she must have liked it, because she arched her back a little more so my tongue could reach deeper.
You're no less of a pervert yourself.
A-yeong's pussy sealed itself to my face and slid up and down.
The clitoris that had first felt about as firm as a hard-boiled egg had, at some point, hardened to the size of a bean.
Feeling fond of her for it, I sucked hard the moment she paused her hips.
Her pussy twitched—then, as if in anger, pressed down fully against my face with a heavy thud.
And as if that made her feel even more, honey began to stream in earnest down the canyon of her sex.
Love juices wound around my tongue; a few drops even slid into my nostrils.
It didn't hurt.
If anything, I was ecstatic simply to be this close to a woman's sex.
I hadn't had many partners, but A-yeong's pussy was on another level entirely.
There are no words for it.
Call it the finest pussy in existence and you still wouldn't capture one percent of this rapture.
This was a legendary vessel no one could even dream of without having tasted it.
So whatever happened was fine by me.
Even when I lost the last scrap of breathing room while sucking her clit;
even when A-yeong put her weight into it afterward and my nose and mouth vanished completely into her cleft;
even when overflowing holy water soaked every part of my face and I exhaled on pure reflex;
even when A-yeong, lost in bliss, ground her pussy in circles on my face and then came with a sudden hard press that drove more than her body weight into me;
even through all those moments when I couldn't breathe and the feel of juices sliding down my cheeks slowly faded;
even when A-yeong's sharp cries grew distant and the world before my eyes blurred—
I later learned that acts like these fall under the broad heading of SM play.
And that participants set a safe word or a safe sign for each other's safety, so that even in the depths of ecstasy, a certain word or gesture will stop everything at once.
…As if I would have known any of that then. I was just a young man who adored the female sex.
I lost consciousness.
To the very end, my nose and mouth were buried between the folds of A-yeong's pussy.
It was paradise among paradises.
When I woke again, I felt a small pang of regret that the scent brushing my nose was not the one I had last known.
In its place the air was thick with cosmetics—what people call the smell of powder.
Incense burned somewhere as well, and beneath it all, faint but unmistakable, was the fragrance of a woman's sex.
The way liquor leaves its alcohol behind even after you wipe a spill clean, the scent of love juices still clung lightly to the air.
The place of my rebirth was a pleasure house—a courtesans' establishment.
And my mother was…
"Are you awake, my little Jin Yu?"
…the legendary courtesan of that house, so celebrated that only those who held their lives cheap dared to call her an imperial princess.