Mistress Jean knew exactly how to dominate a submissive man like him. She made it clear that she was going to sit on his face, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was helplessly tied up, completely at her mercy. As she slowly lowered herself onto his helpless form, he could feel her thighs pressing against his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to please her, but he knew that wasn't an option.
Slowly, her ass came to rest on his nose and mouth. Her tight shiny trousers molded themselves around her perfectly toned ass, pressing deeply into his face. He took a deep breath, trying to catch the scent of her skin and clothing. He wasn't disappointed; her clothes were already carrying the musky scent of her ass, and he found himself getting aroused by the thought of being so close to his boss.
As she sat there, her weight resting on him, he could feel himself getting harder beneath her. He wanted to please her, to make her happy, but he knew that wasn't what she wanted. She just wanted him to be her living furniture, something she could sit on whenever she felt like it.
Finally, after what felt like hours, she lifted herself off of him. He could feel the heavy absence of her weight on his chest, and he let out a small whimper of relief. She stood up, and he couldn't help but stare at the amazing view she presented. Her ass looked incredible in those tight trousers, and he found himself once again growing uncomfortably hard.
She turned around, showing off her perfect behind, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have her sit on his face once again. She walked over to him, and he braced himself for what was coming. To his surprise, she leaned down and whispered in his ear. "You're doing well, my little chair. Keep it up, and maybe I'll let you feel the real thing."
