There it is and there it sits, your rival’s lips sitting not a fingernail’s depth beyond your own.
You hate her, more than you have ever hated any thing or any one. And yet, in the mad struggle of your battle, you have been overcome and overwhelmed. Pinned to your back, and sat upon.
You would fight to free yourself. You would squirm and protest — curse and claw. But you have already, each such rebellion failing to earn your freedom.
And so now you wait. Suffering beneath your nemesis. Knowing that though covering your mouth and nose with her lazy-shaven cunt is not currently her goal.
It will be soon.
Once she has caught her breath and sensed your resignation to defeat.