This choice: New meaning to Towel Boy. • Go Back...Chapter #4New meaning to Towel Boy. by: Zen mutt   You find yourself inside of the bag, and the towel- but getting in is more of a to-do than you expect.. Not that she almost notices you or you have any second thoughts, but your eyes and your nose make you drink up everything about her. The material of her jogging outfit, utter failure to cover more than a third of her shimmering body aside, is reflective enough that you can see the way every breath and heartbeat sends sloshes down to the tips of her fingers and toes, her belly ceasing to move as often as a newton's cradle.. made of jello.
As she chugs some waters, sighing with relief as she lets some of it spill into her cleavage and trickle to her navel, you manage to tear yourself away from ogling her enough to get comfortable in the towel... She hefts the bag up as she stands, choosing to wear the strap around her shoulder and walk for a bit- which makes her twin mountains of butt all but stinkface the opening of the bag. All significant light is blocked as soon as this starts, but just enough rays of sunlight let you see the top half of her butt crack. Not that you really need too; your face isn't exactly forced in, but you hardly need to be! Her ass is so soft and musky there's no reason you wouldn't.
Your very first sniff and the first sense of touch that your face register are almost identical; your first thought is 'oily'. Not slick, not sweaty- though dear god is there a lot of that too.. it's like the sliding of her cheeks around your face through those shorts are coated in a perpetual grease that would be more at home in hamburgers that weren't allowed to rest before being bitten into... Like 50 of them... In between the left-right rocking of your face in her ass, you swear a glass of water being splashed in your face would do literally nothing to change the amount of moisture. You can't help. But softly kiss it- more like touching your mouth to her crack and letting it have it's way with your lips as they softly twitch, until you give it a smooch impulsively. Though the singularly obese woman certainly doesn't know you're there, a pleased "Hmm~ Huh. I guess working out does make you feel good." Reaches your ears, through the muffle of the bag and the butt.
The smell is- well up to this point your nose is just numb. Pleasant as it is, you've had to rely on the taste each sniff ends up bringing to the back of your throat- and the amount of sulfury musk is enough to make you swoon even then. As your nose finally adjusts as best it can, you're struck by two things- that her ass smells like an armpit times 10, plus the effects of a sauna, but the sheer oily quality is right there with the smell too! Your sinuses are the most open they've been all week, so your appreciation for just how thick and eager to slick it's way through your nostrils her stink is, is pretty profound. At this point maybe it would be worth finding a police negotiation bullhorn and a race track starting pistol to get her attention, as that seems to be what's required lately, to ask her on a date...Your nose goes numb again as a solitary (but thick as hell) fart bubble gets to the end of her butt crack without popping- until it pops right between your nose and lips.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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