Suddenly, James shifted, adjusting his position with a lazy grunt. The movement loosened the boxers slightly, and Dylan felt the flesh part, gravity pulling him deeper into the crevice. “Whoa, whoa, no!” he yelped, sliding downward until he was pressed against the warmer, softer skin near James’s anus. The scent intensified, a rich, musky wave that hit him like a tide, and the heat was almost unbearable. “Oh, man, this is… next-level,” Dylan gasped, his voice trembling with a mix of thrill and strain. The puckered surface of the anus was close, its faint pulse palpable, and Dylan’s senses reeled. “Not exactly cozy,” he muttered, “but damn, you’re huge everywhere.”
A low rumble vibrated through the crevice, and before Dylan could brace himself, a soft pfft erupted—a small fart, warm and pungent, washing over him. He wrinkled his nose, coughing slightly, but his excitement held firm. “Ugh, dude, really?” he said, his tone more amused than annoyed. “Your gas is something else. But… kinda fits the whole giant thing.” The intimacy of the moment—the heat, the scent, the sheer closeness to James’s most private area—sent a shiver through him. “I’m in way too deep,” he whispered, half-laughing. “And I’m kinda into it.”
James settled back, his weight pressing Dylan tighter against the anus, the boxers trapping the musky air. “Gotta stay sharp,” Dylan muttered, his discomfort real but overshadowed by his fascination. “Can’t stay here forever, but… wow, this is intense.”
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