Dylan decided to stay put, the raw, forbidden thrill of being so near James’s anus outweighing the discomfort. “Alright, I’m here,” he whispered, his voice trembling with excitement. “Might as well soak it up.” The heat was intense, the musky scent enveloping him like a fog, and the faint pulse of the skin beneath his hands sent shivers through him. “You’re… unreal,” he muttered, pressing himself closer, the boxer fabric tight against his back. The intimacy was dizzying, every detail—James’s fatter ass, the sheer scale of his body—amplifying his fascination. “This is next-level giant stuff,” he said, half-laughing. “Not exactly cozy, but I’m not complaining… much.”
James shifted slightly, the cheeks squeezing Dylan tighter, then relaxing, the movement sending a ripple through the crevice. “Easy, big guy,” Dylan grunted, the pressure making him gasp but not dimming his thrill. A low rumble echoed from above, and Dylan braced himself. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips. A loud brrrt erupted, a warm, pungent fart washing over him, its earthy stench sharp and lingering. Dylan coughed, wrinkling his nose, but his excitement held firm. “Ugh, dude, that’s potent,” he said, his tone light and amused. “But… kinda fits the giant vibe, y’know? You’re a force of nature.”
The gas added an extra edge, making the moment even more electric. Dylan pressed himself against the skin, savoring the heat and pulse, his discomfort a small price for the overwhelming intimacy.
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