Camila had told me that she just needed a few minutes of time to herself and that she'd stop crying by then. But it took much longer than she said, and I almost even fell asleep on her sofa by the time she finished, having completely drenched my handkerchief in her tears.
After fixing up her face and making sure it was presentable again, she cleared her throat and looked back at me over her shoulders to see how I looked after carrying her crying figure on my lap for so long, and found me sitting back on the sofa in quite a comfortable position.
And as if she were jealous of how comfy I looked when she was crying this whole time and wanted to be as cosy as I was, she nudged herself further up my lap until her ass crack was right on top of my crotch and completely leaned back on me as if she were using my body as a recliner.