Ethan and Hilda had fallen asleep right there on the couch, without even bothering to go to bed.
Hilda slept straddling him, her knees bent and her ass slightly raised, its entire plump weight resting on Ethan's thighs.
Her shorts, pulled tight by the position, had ridden up until they were almost like panties.
The fabric sank deep into the cleft between the plump, caramel-colored buttocks of that perfect ass, leaving most of the soft flesh exposed to the warm air of the living room.
Her breasts were bare. The strip of fabric that used to cover them was now nothing more than a crumpled rag, forgotten in some corner near the couch.
Large, heavy, and the same sweet brown as the rest of her body, they were pressed flat against Ethan's bare abdomen, spilling out to the sides under their own weight in two wide, soft mounds.
Her arms wrapped around him, and her head rested on his chest like a pillow.
