Your shoes pound on the rough chair's surface, dashing to the front. With any luck, you'd be able to slide between her oncoming thighs. The edge of the shadow nears... But the Matsudo meteor approaches faster. With escape in sight, and heat rising to your skull, you dive forward, arms spread out, hoping the gods of gravity will be kind to you on your descent.

Thud.

And you undershoot spectacularly. You're left lying stomach-first on the chair, with no way to dodge the mass crashing on you.

SLAMMMmmmmmm~

It all happens in a shallow, warm breath.

https://imgur.com/a/q7n57Cd

Senpai's overpowering weight shifts onto you, squeezing your torso against her computer chair. Thick flesh and clothes compress your lungs, making it hard to even gasp, let alone shout. The crash rings in your ears, and your fingers twitch from the continuous vibration.

Somehow, you're still alive, after the shaking dies down. On the plus side: thanks to your dive, you weren't crushed beneath that ass. However: the bulging outline of her pussy lips - which looked so inviting from afar - is now pinning you flat!

Why did your first touch of her intimate regions have to be like this...?

But then again, it's really soft. You blush, stammering for a moment, as you try to pull yourself together. Not the time to think about Senpai - lovely, smart Senpai - with a mountain of vagina pressing all over you, this could be a matter of life and death.

A booming, womanly sigh rings out onto your body. "Now, just copy-paste this variable here..."

President Matsudo types away at the terminal. Despite her usual cool demeanor, she's obviously excited by her recent breakthrough: heavy breaths above press and unpress you in a staccato rhythm. She shifts slightly in her seat; not enough for a normal human to take notice, but it fully engulfs your arms beneath the slit. Were it not for the cotton barricade, you'd be entirely consumed by the crotch, like an insect in a sticky Venus Fly Trap. In fact - when you push the panties, your fingers are fine enough to pierce through its worn threads.

With the deepest breath your compressed respiratory system can hold (inhaling a hefty whiff of warm, sickly-sweet air), you push up against the gigantic crotch's crushing weight. Minuscule fibers tickle your palms. The slight moisture from Matsudo's perspiration - built up on her clothes over at least one school day, probably more - makes it hard for your hands to stay put - both from the friction, and how the slimy texture makes your joints buckle. And when you actually can get a firm grasp, it's no use; your hands just sink right in, pushing into her womanhood without it budging. Your theory that the potion increased your strength... may need some revision.

A satisfied hum rings atop you. "There! Hey, I could refactor this into an interface, or maybe an abstract class." And with that spark of brilliance, your Senpai leans in closer to the screen, shifting the gravitational forces.

The folds of her camel toe roll lazily upon you, squeezing you firmly into their plushness. A relative 52 thousand tons of pressure weigh down on you. Despite the president's scrawny physique, you can barely move in this state. You have to twist your back uncomfortably to glimpse at the behemoth pussy resting upon you. Still, the subconscious motions - the way her fingers fly over the keyboard, the small snorts from her nose, even a few rumbles from her stomach - traverse through her frame to you, reminding you of your place. Pinned beneath your love's warm vagina.

Maybe it's not so bad...

No, what are you saying? The intense body heat is starting to mess with your head. And the odors around; the heavy air is so sweet, so enticing...

You can barely scream. Matsudo's mere presence is causing you to suffer from oxygen deprivation; not just from the odor floating from her sex, but from the crushing force on your lungs. Memories of her float by on the wind; the first time you borrowed her mechanical pencil, your first firecracker-based experiment with her, the time she helped you cheat on that test...

It's getting worse. The pain on your ribs is hard to bear. Her subconscious twitches and breaths only grind you harder, as if they're determined to slowly break your spirit into shreds.

You focus on the distant sound of keyboard taps. The tiny traces of her voice. They'll keep you sane, through this pain.

With the each of the clock's ticks the moisture's growing around her legs. Normally, you'd be disgusted. But in this case, it's Senpai's bodily juices, so it's not the worst thing in the world. Maybe, if you tried wiggling now, you'd be able to flee her vaginal muscles' grasp.

But if you squirmed too much, she might look down. And what would the President do when she discovers her subordinate not only drank her experimental potion without permission; but tried to brush up all cozy against her precious petals? Or she may have worse experiments for you yet. And anyway, how long could she stay seated at that computer? She'd need to move sometime.

Biting your lip, you decide to...