Justin would give you a chance to catch your breath.
After you were ready, you immediately ran after Justin Bieber, but he was one step ahead as he quick knocked you down to the floor and sat on your face.
Justin would start counting to ten while you were struggling under him.
You would try to lift him off but that the slow four count, Justin rewarded your efforts with a fart.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaa that felt good. What was I doing again?" You would struggle some more as the foul fart entered your nose. "Oh yeah. We were wrestling." Justin would say with a laugh. "This was too easy and now I'm sitting on your face and you can't get me off of you."
Justin would release another loud and stinky fart on your nose. "I don't even need to count. We already know who won this match and I don't feel like getting up, this chair (your face) I'm sitting on is comfy." Justin would fart some more.
You were helpless and weak. Just the seat for a pop sensation and weren't getting out until he felt like getting up. Your nose would just sink deeper into his underwear clad crack.
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