"I'm in the mood for a good pump," Sam said, as he lifted his round bubble butt off your face slowly so he could let out some wet farts in the process. "And I think my arms are in prefect shape."
Sam flexed his biceps to emphasize his point, as well as showing you how little chance you had against him. He smiled and grabbed his heavily weighed barbell, lifted it over his head with a long grunt and held it behind his head, just above his shoulders.
"I think we should get to work on these glutes," Sam said, and you shake in fear. "I should warn you, though, things tend to get a little gassy when I get pumped."
At first that warning didn't worry you anymore than usual since the farting had already begun, but Sam's stink hole was really packing a punch as he squatted down slowly, squashing your face beneath his meaty wonder and releasing his rotten gas before lifting himself back up and clenching his ass cheeks together again.
Every bomb released by Sam's round backside was wet, and the stench of his dominant power lingered in your nose while his laughter lingered in your ears.
"I don't hear any begging," Sam said as he squashed your face and engulfed your head into his crack, between his thick, meaty glutes.
"Please stop Sam!!" You beg.
"Yeah, that's it, bitch," he laughs, and places his full weight and the weight of the barbell on your face while releasing more rotten farts. "Now let's really see what you're made of."
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