The sun’s still beating down on us in the park, but the air feels thicker now, heavier with the smell of cut grass, sunscreen, and pure masculine sweat. It’s Pride Month, of course — rainbow flags everywhere in the distance, people in glitter and tiny shorts laughing by the lake. And here I am, the pathetic nerdy fag they love to torment, sitting cross-legged on the edge of their blanket like a discarded toy, face already burning crimson.
Colin is still on all fours, that fat, juicy ass in the American flag shorts shoved toward me like a taunt. Harry is grinning beside him, cigarette smoke curling from his lips as he eyes me with that cruel, knowing smirk.
“Happy fucking Pride, huh? Look at this little fag boy. What exactly are you proud of today, loser? Being a walking boner for straight dick? Getting hard just from smelling real men?”
Colin chuckles deep in his chest, then glances back over his shoulder at me. His face is cocky as hell — sharp jaw, buzzed blond hair, that arrogant half-smirk that always makes my stomach twist. His blue eyes lock onto mine, playful and mean at the same time.
“Yeah, what’s there to be proud of, fag? That you pop a tent every time we tease you? Pathetic.”
Before I can even try to look away, he arches his back deeper, pushing that round, striped ass even closer to my face. The fabric stretches tight across his cheeks. Then his expression changes — he grins wide, almost proud, like he’s about to hit a personal best. His eyes narrow in concentration, cheeks flushing just slightly with effort, and his mouth opens in a cocky laugh as he rips it.
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!
A long, hot, protein-packed fart explodes right in front of my face — thick, heavy, eggy and meaty from all the shakes and chicken he pounds. The blast is loud enough that a couple of people nearby glance over, but he doesn’t give a shit. He holds it like a champ, face twisting into this victorious, shit-eating grin, teeth flashing as he laughs through it. His nose wrinkles a little at the smell but he powers through, clearly proud of how nasty and potent it is, eyes sparkling with pure bully delight as he watches my reaction.
The stench hits me like a wall — warm, ripe, masculine protein fart straight from his gut, wrapping around my face, burning my nostrils. I choke, eyes watering instantly, but my traitor cock throbs harder than ever in my shorts, leaking like crazy. My whole face is flushed beet red, ears glowing, glasses fogging up from the heat. I can’t hide it. I’m rock hard, humiliated, and completely broken by how fucking hot they both are.
“Fuck yeah,” Colin remarked, still grinning like a champion, sounding pretty pleased, wiggling his ass so the last of the fart wafts directly into my face. “Smell that straight man stink, fag. That’s what gets you going during Pride Month? Not the parades — just two straight bros’ protein farts. What a proud little cumrag you are.”
Harry is cracking up now, reaching over to slap Colin's ass while towering over me.
“He’s creaming himself again. Look at how red he is. Bet he’s gonna jerk off to this memory all night.”
I can’t speak. Just sit there, burning with shame, cock aching, completely owned by their teasing, their bodies, and that disgusting, addictive stink. They know exactly what they do to me.
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