Hello! I am still quite new to writing erotica, if you would like to see anything or read anything let me know and I will try and write a story about it |18+
An hour passes with your face pressed in to his sneaker. You would have expected your nose to adjust to the smell quicker, but for the majority of the time that Jason's foot pinned you in place you found the smell continued at a constant pungent level. Your breath keeping the shoes moist and reacting the smell of his sweat.
Jason said very little and eventually he put on a football game, ignoring you almost entirely. The only interaction was the occasional rocking of his foot on the back of your head, smashing your face deeper in to the sneaker. His other foot weighing heavy on your back, the heel digging in and when aggravated by what was happening in the game there'd be the odd bounce and kick which caused more pain. Your knees and elbows felt on fire from holding the position for so long. Just when you thought you might have to say something, or risk collapsing, there was a knock at the door.
"Oh, pizza's here!" said Jason, and then finally acknowledging you again added, "Go and get it for me, bitch".
He lifted his foot off your head and you were able to finally lift up, getting some fresh air and work the crick out of your neck.
"Also, I added a note to the delivery which I hope they've read. You're to tip them if they do it. If they seem unwilling, beg them to do it".
"Do what?" You asked, assuming it would be something embarrassing. But he just grabbed your wallet and handed you a twenty out of it, the tip you would be paying for.
"Shut up, and go get it!" A louder knock came and you found yourself instinctively hurrying up to answer it. As you went to grab your clothes Jason piped up, "answer it in just your underwear".
You didn't want to risk an escalation so you grabbed them and ran out the door. Jason must have assumed you'd not try to flee his home nearly naked and was right. Plus he had the videos to blackmail you with.
As you opened the door an Uber delivery guy stood there awkwardly. Looking at him you'd place him in his late thirties/early forties. He was tall, stocky and sported a black wavy beard.
"Pizza for Jason?" He sounded as if he'd never delivered before.
"Yeh, thanks" you took the pizza off him, the note still in your hand which he clocked and then looked at you. There was an awkward silence as you stood there with the pizza and he seemed unsure how to proceed. Looking at the money as he spoke, "there was a...request on the order"
Figuring it was best to get this over you put the pizza down on the floor, trying to keep as much of you behind the door as possible to not show your naked state. "Yeh, do you want the tip?" You offer.
"I'm not sure I should. Its a bit weird".
Remembering your instructions you start to beg. "Please, I really want you to do it. I'm willing to pay you", and you held up the money.
"You really want me to fart in your face?"
It was like a cold shower had gone over you. Not only was Jason being so juvenile, he was involving strangers. As embarrassing as this was, Jason held all the cards, and this guy was nobody to you, so you'd likely never see him again.
"Yes...I really want it. I'm need you to fart in my face"
"I think...I think can do it. If you're sure. Is this like a dare or something?"
You nodded, but in case Jason was listening you replied, "I just really need it man, I am begging you to fart in my face"
Still looking unsettled but eager for the money after a slow night of orders, the delivery guy turned around presenting his ass to you. You got down on your knees again, having to come out from behind the door you were met with cool evening air. His ass felt warm in comparison. Having sat on the bike for a few hours it had built up a musky sweat. His fat ass sagged in the tight leggings. You hovered an inch from it, wondering if he'd be able to do it, when suddenly he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you in.
Pppppprrrrrrrbbbb
Pppbbbttt
Ppbbt
The three farts came in quick succession. Each had a spicy aroma and burnt your nostrils on each hit. He let go of your head and stepped away. "Was that what you wanted?".
Looking anywhere but at him you stood back up and handed over the money. "That was perfect, thank you so much". Without another word you shut the door.
You saw his silhouette shrink away through the glass as you stood there. Jason's laughter erupted immediately and you felt your blood boiling with rage and embarrassment, until it froze in your veins as a sound rang out behind you.
'Pppppprrrrrrrbbbb...That was perfect, thank you so much...Pppppprrrrrrrbbbb...That was perfect...Pppppprrrrrrrbbbb'
Turning round you saw Jason holding a phone. Of course he recorded it. Another video to make you pay to delete at a later date.
"Fuck that was hilarious! How'd they smell? Do you think you prefer his or mine? Let's get this pizza in me and find out!", and he walked back to the living room laughing to himself.
Picking up the pizza box off the floor you follow him. Jason is sitting back down and takes the pizza, opened the lid and picked a slice up offering it to you. As you reach to take it he lets go, and you watch it fall to the floor. Before you can say anything Jason places his foot on top pressing down, squashing it between his bare sole and the laminate. The pizza flattens beneath the pressure, the sauce spreading out and filling between his toes.
Jason smirks as he leans back in the chair, takes out another slice and takes a bite. Lifting his foot up and staring at you mischievously, through a full mouth he mumbles, "Eat up!"
You can see the smashed pizza pancaked to the floor. And his foot dripping sauce. A slice of sausage stuck to his heel. Dropping down to your knees you go to pick up the slice.
"Oh no, clean my foot first before you get your dinner".
Not even wanting to give him any satisfaction by arguing you take his foot in your hands and get to work. The sweet sauce makes it almost bearable. As you probe between his toes to get all the sauce out he works your mouth to get his foot wedged in as far as it can go, and then tries to push further. When he takes it back out he pulls it back for an inspection, seeing the piece of meat still there, peels it off smugly, and holds it out.
"Come on, bitch, open up"
You lean forward and take it like a dog being fed a treat. He sits up and holds the sausage mockingly. With his other hand he grabs the back of your head and yanks your hair causing you to pull back and cry out. Jason spits in your open mouth. He tries to do it again but in disgust you'd already shut it, meaning this spit goes over your face. Laughing he rubs the sausage over his spit and presses it to your lips. You eat it.
"Look at you. You say you're not gay and yet you're desperate to eat this alpha's sausage". He laughed at his joke.
Satisfied again he rests back and gets himself another slice. Clicking his fingers he points to the floor.
"Eat your dinner like a dog, and I want it spotless so you best lick all the sauce off the floor. When you're done with that get back in to the foot stool position. I'm going finish this pizza. Don't worry about going hungry, I'll start brewing up those beer, cheese and meat farts for you. You're going to be eating well tonight!"
As instructed you bend down, see the footprint clearly visible in the cheese, the floor filth coating the sauce, and without hesitation you begin eating.
I should be happy, after all, I’m living the dream. I have a lucrative job that pays me six figures, and I already own a huge, five-bedroom, four-bathroom house, and I’m only 26.
But then there’s Denise, my wife. I married her when I was 23; we dated for only 6 months. She initially lied, claiming to be 30 when she was actually in her late 40s. She’s good with make-up.
Denise also has a son, Jacob, who is nearly as old as me. I never met Jacob in person. Before our marriage, Jacob turned 18, and Denise kicked him out of their home and her life. I felt guilty about that, so I did something. I got in contact with him and enrolled him in a private and prestigious college. His tuition and housing were expensive, but it helped ease my conscience.
Denise revealed her true colors after we got married. She is a horrible woman. She belittles me, she goes on weekly shopping sprees, and although I can’t prove it, I know she’s cheating on me. She’s rarely ever home, and when she is, she reeks of sex. I want to divorce her, but I have no proof. In court, I could lose my house and half my bank account. Fuck my younger self for not getting a prenup.
So yeah, thanks to Denise, my life is miserable.
It’s 8 at night and I’m home alone, as usual. I’m in my home office, going over some papers, when I receive a text from an unknown number.
Unknown number: Hey, Dad, I’m coming to stay with you. Be there in an hour
I frowned while reading this. Probably a wrong number.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown number: Don’t be silly, Dad, it’s me, your son, Jacob.
My eyes widen when I find out it’s Jacob. He’s 22 and recently graduated from college. Well, he is Denise’s kid, so I guess I have to take him in.
Me: You’re welcome here. But with our small age difference, you don’t need to call me Dad.
Jacob: We’ll talk about it when I get there, Dad.
What’s with this Dad nonsense? I think to myself as I shake my head.
I’ve barely had any interaction with Jacob. When he started college, I also bought and sent him a cell phone. He texted me that night, thanking me for everything I’m doing for him.
Another night, I caught Denise screaming at him over the phone. She was calling him a disappointment, a mistake, and a f*g. I hated it.
Later that night, I texted him that I was bisexual, and he should be proud of himself.
He texted back if we could FaceTime, and I agreed. As soon as we saw each other, his face crumpled. He muttered, ‘It’s unfair. She gets everything.’ before ending the call. And that’s about it for our interaction.
At 9:30, there’s a knock on the door. When I answer it, I’m shocked by what I find.
Jacob is much bigger than that lanky young man I remember FaceTiming with. He looks to be about six-foot-two, towering over my five-foot-ten stature. He’s ripped with muscle. He’s wearing black sweats and a black wifebeater. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
He’s flashing this easy little smirk. “So, you gonna let me in, Dad?” He asks, teasingly.
Hmm? Hearing him verbally call me Dad is a little uncomfortable.
I return a shaky smile. “Of course, sorry about that, Jacob, please come in.” I step aside.
I do a double-take as Jacob walks past me, my eyes falling to his insanely round and fat ass. It is the textbook example of a bubble butt. His spherical cheeks jiggle hypnotically with each step.
“So where’s my room?” Jacob questions, that teasing tone still in his voice. I look up and see him looking back at me, over his shoulder, with a pleased expression. Shit, I was caught staring.
I show Jacob to our guest room. It’s nothing special: a king-size bed, a chair and desk, a walk-in closet, and an adjoining bathroom.
“Do you need help unpacking?” I offer.
He shoots me a boyish grin that has my ears heating up. “No, but I’d like your company, Dad.”
'Dad'? Again?
I take a seat in the desk chair and we talk. Well, I mostly listen as he tells me what he’s been up to. I say nothing about me being completely miserable since I married his mom.
“I'm not too keen on you calling me Dad.” I address the elephant in the room.
Jacob shrugs, unbothered. “You’ll get used to it.” I'm not expecting him to look at me so pointedly, with such open desire gleaming in his eyes. “You’re my Dad. You. Are. Mine.” He finishes.
A shiver runs through me at the possessiveness. And I don't hate it.
The conversation takes a turn.
“Before I started college, I stopped by while you were at work and Mom was here, alone. I pretended to have a sort of goodbye lunch with her. While I was here, I snuck off and took a look at your personal computer. Luckily for me, you left it unlocked.” Jacob side-eyes me, “What I found was quite eye-opening.”
I go pale. Is he implying what I think he is?
On my computer, I have straight and gay porn. My straight porn is vanilla, but my gay porn is raunchy. I have a farting fetish. Guy’s farting does it for me.
Jacob starts talking again, regaining my attention. “I’m very grateful for you taking me in, Dad. Your son has brought you a thank-you gift. I think you’re gonna like it.”
Jacob starts backing up in my direction, where I’m still sitting in the chair. My face is on level with his bubbly backside.
In a second, I’m face-to-face with his dump-truck of an ass, that is stretching the back of his sweats to their limit. Those two melon-sized cheeks are giving his sweats a run for their money.
I can’t move. I don’t want to move.
I gawk as his glutes flex and then relax.
BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWPPPPPPPPPP
A 12-second fart explodes out of his ass and right into my face. It’s loud, sounding like a bassy trumpet, and it is strong enough to blow my hair back. Then there’s the smell. It stinks of rotten eggs and spices, making my eyes tear up.
Jacob takes a step forward and peers down at me, over his shoulder. “Sorry about that, Pops. I didn’t see you back there.” He lies with a shit-eating grin. “You should know your son is a very gassy man. I fart a lot. I guess I’m more like a stink-son than a step-son.” He finishes with a wink.
I hesitantly smile as I stand up. I need to leave, I’m getting harder by the second.
“Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I turn and leave. As I reach the door…
BBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMPPPPPPPP
I look back. Jacob’s standing there with his left leg cocked up, flashing me a lopsided grin.
I force myself to leave the room even though I want to stay and bask in his eggy fumes.
What if he’s vindictive like his mother? Trying to milk me bone-dry. I have to be on guard.
I get a restless sleep tonight.
The next morning, I take a shower and get dressed for work. When I step out of my bedroom, I smell something delicious coming from the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen and find Jacob cooking breakfast. He’s just wearing black basketball shorts; his chiseled upper body is on full display. He made pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns.
“Good morning, Dad. Want some breakfast?” Jacob offers me a full plate, surprising me. Someone doing something like this for me, in my home, feels so foreign.
And he’s still calling me Dad.
“Thank you, Jacob.”
After taking the plate, he asks, “Oh, did you want some eggs, Dad?”
I don’t see any eggs cooking, but I agree.
Jacob spins around and pushes out his bubbly ass, pressing it against my hip. “Get ‘em while they’re hot… GGH”
FFFFFFFFFFFFMMMMMMMMM-HHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRR
Jacob rips two consecutive farts on me. I feel it rumbling against my side. In seconds, I’m surrounded by a fart cloud that stinks of rotten eggs.
Jacob turns around and says, “Mmm, smells scrumptious, don’t it, Pops.” He teases, flashing a cocky smirk.
I awkwardly laugh, “Ha, good one, Jacob.” I turn around, heading for the dining room, hiding my growing hard-on.
Jacob follows me with his own plate.
We sit down and talk while eating breakfast. It’s nice. For the first morning in a while, I don’t feel so lonely.
The food is good, but it has a peculiar smell and aftertaste. It’s ignorable, but there.
“Would you like some more bacon, Dad?” Jacob offers when he sees that I’ve finished them.
I guess I'd better get used to him calling me ‘Dad’ and ‘Pops’.
“Yes, please.”
Jacob leaves and returns with several strips of bacon on a piece of paper towel. He rounds the table, standing next to me, and slides them onto my plate.
Before I can resume eating, Jacob stops me. “Not so fast, Dad, I’ve got to season it first.”
Jacob spins around and backs up. His protruding globes hover inches above my food, casting a shadow that covers the entire plate.
I look up and find Jacob smirking back down at me. His face then contorts in concentration, and he grunts.
BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP
Jacob pushes out a 6-second, wet fart, coating my food with his butt fumes.
I can smell his raunchy ass gas mingling with the smell of the food. That explains the aftertaste.
Jacob isn’t done. With a twist of his hips, the side of my face sinks against his meaty orbs.
Pppssshhhh
I feel his silent fart heat my cheek.
I’m slack-jawed, aroused, and coughing on his farts. Jacob sits back down, mischief playing in his eyes.
“What? I’m your stink-son; there should’ve never been any doubt that my sweaty booty would season your food. You’re welcome, Pops.”
Jacob watches with a victorious grin as I eat my fart-flavored breakfast. I’ve never been so hard in my life.
Thankfully, I remember that this is Denise’s son. Being a gold digger is in Jacob’s blood. He could be using my fetish against me.
That thought pushes away my previous arousal.
I give Jacob a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks for breakfast.”
A look of rejection flashes across his face for a second.
I stand up. Jacob jumps up as well and stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder. He stands beside me.
Jacob flashes me an easy smile, “Have a good day at work, Pops.” he turns his back to me and bends over slightly, planting his bulbous backside against my hip. “Hope this helps… FGH”
RRRRBBBB-PPPPHHHH-UUUUFFFF
Jacob rips a string of short but loud farts on me. I bite my bottom lip, stifling my moan. I make my escape for work.
For most people, combing over spreadsheets and numbers would be stressful, but not for me. I live for it. I treat it as an escape from my miserable home life.
Today, my escape is being impeded by Jacob and all the texts and vids he keeps sending me.
Jacob: Pops, I’ve been farting non-stop since you left. I hope you don’t mind returning to the whole place reeking of my swamp ass.
Jacob: Pops, my last farts have been so loud that I’m using your pillow to muffle them. I’m sure you won’t mind.
That message is accompanied by a clip of Jacob pressing my pillow against his shorts-clad bubbly ass.
BBBFFF-HHHTTT-PPPRRR
Trying to work while being teased is not ideal.
It’s lunchtime, and Jacob isn’t done yet.
Jacob: We seem to be running low on eggs. No worries, I’ll restock the fridge with my gas-form ones. No need to thank me, just being a good stink-son.
The clip that accompanies the message is of Jacob opening the refrigerator, turning around, and sticking his butt inside.
RRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPP
Jacob rips a long, growling 15-second fart. He swivels and rotates his hips as he farts, making sure to coat all the food with his butt stink.
I rewatch this several times.
Jacob: I’m kinda bored, Dad, so I’m entertaining myself by farting on all your stuff.
I received a string of clips of Jacob farting on some of my stuff. I’ve been sent a clip of him farting on my bed, a pair of my shoes, my Rolex, my cufflinks, several suits, the TV remote, my phone charger, and into the coffee mug I use every morning.
This felt like one of the longest work days I’ve ever had. Jacob was relentless. I couldn’t go 15 minutes without Jacob sending me a video of him farting. I had a perpetual hard-on throughout my entire day.
The moment I slink back into the house and close the front door behind me, Jacob pounces.
Jacob turns the corner, heading straight for me with a cocky smirk dancing across his lips. He’s still shirtless and wearing those black basketball shorts.
“Finally, you’re back, Dad. I need you.”
“Is, is everything okay?” I stutter out.
Jacob corners me, trapping me between him and the front door. “No, we have a bit of a problem. It’s been hours since I last farted on you.” Jacob spins around and backs his titanic and fleshy ass into my lower stomach. I grunt, my back hitting the door. I’m literally sandwiched between the front door and his meaty orbs.
Jacob looks back at me, over his shoulder, his smirk broadening into a sharkish grin. “Now be a good Dad and let your gassy stink-son skunk you out.”
Jacob narrows his eyes and bites his bottom lip.
FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPP
MMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLTTTTTTTTTT
RRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDD
Jacob rips 3 consecutive, long, and trumpeting farts on me. The front hall quickly fills with the stench of rotten eggs and onions.
My body jolts instinctively wanting to push Jacob away, but this only causes Jacob to press his ass harder against my lower midsection.
“Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily, Dad. You're gonna take all of your stink-son’s nasty farts.”
FART “Oh,” FART “Ah,” FART “That felt good,” FART “Hah, that was a wet one,” FART “Stop struggling, Dad,” FART “It’s useless,” FART “Just take your stink-son’s farts,” FART “You’ve got no choice,”
FFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTT
Jacob rips a barrage of farts on me, and I’ve just stepped into my house. His last fart was a big one that lasted 17 seconds.
Once he’s done, I’m all sweaty with a throbbing hard-on. It’s taking all my self-control not to shoot in my boxers.
Jacob finally steps forward and turns to face me. He has an accomplished grin, knowing he’s responsible for my disheveled appearance.
Jacob nods his head deeper into the house. “Come on, Dad, it's supper time. I made dinner.”
I follow Jacob to the dining room. He’s cooked us baked chicken and green beans. I’m almost choked up. It's been so long since I’ve come home from work to a home-cooked meal.
Jacob pulls the chair out for me. After sitting down, Jacob bends down, and a shiver runs through me when his lips brush against my ear.
“No worries, Dad, I already made sure to dress up your food with my noxious butt funk. You're welcome.” I can feel Jacob’s lips curling into a smirk before he pulls away. But Jacob isn’t done yet.
Next thing I know, I feel two big and warm, fleshy yet firm objects pressing against the back of my head.
MMMMMMMMMBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP
Jacob rips a 7-second, growling fart against the back of my head. I’m immediately engulfed in a fart cloud that stinks of methane and Jacob’s specific brand of swamp ass.
Jacob rounds the table and sits down across from me, all while flashing that cocky smirk. He’s as arrogant as he is sexy.
“You’re the best, Dad. You are hands down my favorite person to fart on. I’ll never get tired of forcing my butt stink on you.”
Jacob is merciless. He’s had me aroused all day. I don’t think he'll stop til I blow in my boxers.
Thankfully, Jacob eases up as we eat and talk, though it doesn’t hide the taste and smell of the fact that he farted on my food.
It’s so nice to talk about my day and have someone who actually listens. When Denise and I were first dating, she asked me about my day, but I could tell she wasn’t really listening. But Jacob is. He adds comments and asks questions as I talk. It’s so refreshing.
The food was delicious, and, for me at least, Jacob farting on it made it even tastier. I finished it all.
“Thanks for dinner, Jacob. With this, combined with breakfast, it’s obvious that you’re a very talented cook.” I compliment. Jacob beams with pride.
I receive one text, and my night is immediately dampened. It’s Denise.
“Is everything alright?” Jacob asks.
I give Jacob a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Everything’s fine. It’s just your mom. She wants me to wire her some more money.”
“Where is she? Why does she need money?” Jacob questions with a frown.
“She’s off trying to become some online influencer. She needs the money for living expenses and to make connections. It's my duty as her husband to support her.” I explain. I can’t look up; I already know I’m pathetic. It’s obvious she’s just traveling, partying, and being unfaithful.
When I do gain the courage to look up, for a split second, I see what looks like jealousy flashing across Jacob’s face. But now he’s impishly grinning at me, and I can see a devilish glint in his eyes.
Jacob stands up abruptly, making his chair skid back and startling me.
“Dad, stop thinking about my mom. I’m sure she’s fine.” Jacob starts as he cockily swaggers towards me. “After a long day of hard work, you deserve something special tonight. Something you’ll never forget. And your stink-son here is gonna give it to you.” He comes to a stop in front of me, still sitting in my chair.
I grunt in surprise when Jacob grabs me by the shoulders and stands me up.
“Jacob wha-” I’m cut off when Jacob shows off his impressive strength. He easily tosses me onto his shoulder into a fireman carry with ease. I’m not too mad since I’m face-to-face with Jacob’s dump truck of an ass filling out his shorts.
“All aboard the Jacob Express, choo-choo.” Jacob teases and then hikes up his leg, pelting my upside-down face with…
FFFFFFFFFBBBBBBB-RRRRRRPPPPPPPP
My hands find Jacob’s waist as he starts walking. He isn’t even breaking a sweat or winded as he carries me through the house. Jacob, not holding back, continues to poot in my face with every step; his gait never faltering.
Ppbbtt, rrwwbb, mmvvpp, bbrrdd
Soon enough, we’re in my bedroom. Jacob tosses me onto my bed. Jacob follows me onto the bed and starts crawling up my body on his hands and knees.
When he gets high enough up my body, he stops and straightens up, straddling my chest. He’s looking down at me with a sexy little grin that’s promising me his flatulence.
In the back of my head, a voice is screaming that this is a bad idea. Jacob might be in cahoots with his mother. Maybe he’s filming this, and they’re gonna use this in the divorce to take away most of my assets.
But my throbbing hard-on is drowning out my caution.
Jacob maneuvers himself around so he’s straddling my chest but facing away from me. My breath catches as his protruding cakes, pushing the stitching of his shorts to their limit, fill my view.
Jacob grabs the waistband of his shorts and starts pulling them down. And of course, he’s freeballing. Jacob has the shimmy his hips a bit to work them down his fat ass. I can't look away as I watch all that ass meat pour and jiggle out as he works down his shorts further and further.
Once Jacob’s bubbly ass is free, his twin, fleshy moons bounce ominously right over my face. His two globes are as big as basketballs. They’re tan and covered with a light dusting of black hair.
I desperately want Jacob to sit on my face. I want him to fart on my face again and again, and never stop until I forget what fresh air smells like.
However, there’s a possibility that this could all be a setup.
“Jacob, we can’t-”
“Shh, shh,” Jacob gently coos. “Just lie there, and let your stink-son’s fat, nasty ass smother you,” Jacob says seductively. He slowly lowers his meaty ass onto my face. His cheeks part as he descends, giving me a glimpse of his winking, fur-surrounded pucker.
“You have no choice, Daddy, my booty owns you.” With that, Jacob eases completely down, my face getting swallowed up in between his pillowy mounds. Everything goes dark. All I can breathe in is the raunchy air in his sweaty, cavernous crack.
Jacob shifts from side to side, getting comfortable on my face. He doesn’t stop until his hole is pressed against my nostrils.
“Buckle up, Dad, your son’s about to rock your world… HGH”
BBBBBBBBHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP
“Oh yeah, don’t underestimate my butt, Dad. It’s unstoppable… GGH”
FFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVVVVOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM
“Ah, have some of that. How does your son’s butt taste… NGH”
VVVVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR
“Now, now, Dad, stop struggling down there. There’s no escaping your son’s big booty… RFG”
DDDDDDDDDDDWWWWWWWWUUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFF
“I ain’t finished with you yet, Dad. Sniff up your son’s noxious butt bombs… FGH”
MMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPP-RRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT
“Yeah, that’s it, Dad, suffocate… GHGH”
RRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAVVVVVVVV
“Dad, I know you want this. You want my fat ass. You want my nasty farts. Take it! Take it All!... UGH”
With me trapped beneath Jacob, and my face lodged in his ass, he goes on a farting rampage, ripping fart after fart point-blank in my face. They reek of digested meat and garlic. His every fart is loud and head-rattling. The last one is a behemoth that lasted a little over a minute.
I’m only human and can only resist so much. Before I pass out from Jacob’s ass gas, I blow in my boxers.
Jacob was right. I’ll never forget this.
When I wake up, it’s still dark and I’m alone in my bedroom. Not too much time must have passed because the stench of Jacob’s eggy farts still lingered heavily in the air.
I sit up and groan in regret. What happened here was a sexy but huge mistake. It’s obvious Jacob is after something, I’m just not sure if he's working alongside his mother.
When I step out of my room, I hear what I believe is an argument going on in the kitchen.
Their voices aren’t raised, but they sound intense.
I peer into the kitchen and see Jacob and Denise arguing.
Jacob’s still shirtless. Denise is wearing a pink, brand-name tracksuit.
“You need to leave, now,” Denise hisses, “You are not going to ruin this for me.”
“Brian is a good man and deserves far better than you,” Jacob retorts, his bulging arms crossed and a stern expression clouding his face.
“What's going on in here?” I announce my presence as I step into the kitchen.
Denise flashes me a fake, syrupy-sweet smile. “Hi, baby, I was just telling my son that he needs to find somewhere else to live. He’s an adult, after all.”
Jacob looks down at the floor in defeat.
That look kills me, so I put my foot down. “No, Denise, he can stay with us as long as he likes. When he’s in a good place and is ready to be on his own, he can leave. We owe him that.”
Denise opens her mouth, but I shut her down, “End of discussion.” Normally, I just roll over for whatever Denise wants, but not this time.
Denise recoils as if I slapped her. Jacob snaps his head towards me, looking at me with appreciation, and something else I can’t pin down; perhaps longing.
Denise's lips pursed. She spins around and starts marching towards the front door.
My brow furrows, “Where are you going?” I call after her.
“I’m going to stay with my friend for a while. At least until you regain your common sense.” She answers.
“Oh, and what’s the name of this friend?” Jacob calls her out.
Denise steps falter and she’s quiet for several seconds, “M-Melony.” so pitiful, an obvious lie.
Jacob scoffs, “Yeah, right, tell Mike I said hi.”
Denise whips her head around, looking at Jacob like she wants to bury him. Her eyes then meet mine. I see fear in them.
Denise leaves, not saying another word. It's just Jacob and me again.
Jacob gives me a warm smile. “Thanks for fighting and letting me stay, Dad.”
I can’t meet Jacob’s eyes. “Please stop with the Dad and son stuff, Jacob. We both know it’s wrong, especially after what happened last night.”
I look up and find Jacob wickedly grinning at me. “Oh, Dad, you’re fooling no one. This father/son play is hot because it’s taboo.”
I hate that I can’t deny that.
“It doesn’t matter. What happened last night will never happen again. And you will stop all of this farting on me.” I command sternly.
Jacob's smirking like he’s holding all the cards. In a way, I guess he is. “Another hot thing about all this is the power dynamic,” He starts walking towards me, “Even though you're the father, we both know that I, the son, am the one in charge.”
Jacob stops right in front of me. I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. My previous confidence is completely shot.
“I think you want me to remind you of your place, Dad.” Jacob places both of his hands on my shoulders and presses down, forcing me to my knees.
Jacob then spins around. The thin layer of his black basketball shorts and several inches of empty air are the only things separating my face from his blubbery orbs.
Jacob reaches back with one hand, gripping the top of my head. With the other, he pulls down the back of his shorts, mooning me with his hair-dusted, meaty globes.
Jacob then uses the same free hand to spread open his cheeks, exposing his asshole.
“In you go, Dad,” Jacob says before shoving my face up his sweaty canyon of an ass crack, entombing my face between his fleshy moons.
BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHPPPPPPPP
“Smell that, Dad? That's why I’m in charge.” RRRBBBPPP “Resisting is useless. All it’ll get you is more of this.” FFFMMMTTT “Then again, maybe that’s your goal.” DDDVVVBBB “There’s no need for that, Dad, if that’s the case.” MMMOOOFFF “Your stink-son’s always happy to supply your fart-huffing fix.”
RRRRRRHHHHHHVVVVVVVMMMMMMPPPPPP
With my face buried in his ass, he vents fart after fart up my nose. His hellish emissions can be categorized as a bio-weapon. It’s pathetic, but I desperately breathe in his every fart, lost in a lustful daze.
The next thing I know, Jacob is pulling me up, and we’re now facing each other. I’m caught off guard when he uses his forearm to wipe my mouth. And then he’s kissing me. And it isn’t a chaste kiss, it’s a passionate one with a whole lot of tongue. I enthusiastically reciprocate, parting my lips and letting his tongue invade my mouth.
When I realize what we’re doing, I end the kiss, but I don’t step away from his bigger body.
“Jacob, stop, your mom-”
Jacob stops me with a tender kiss. His big mitts fall to my hips, and he pulls me in. I grunt as our hard-ons press against each other. He rests his forehead against mine.
“I know what you think about me, Brian, and you’re wrong. I am absolutely nothing like my mother. She’s a manipulative gold digger who only looks out for herself.” Jacob says softly.
He cups my face in his hands. “Brian, you deserve so much better. The moment I met you, I knew I had to save you from that human trash. I knew we were meant for each other. Please choose me.”
I’m so tired of feeling miserable with Denise. I want to be happy. Jacob makes me happy.
“Jacob, I want you. I want you so badly, but we can’t. If Denise learns about this, she’ll divorce me and take everything.” I admit, the defeat is evident in my voice.
Jacob looks more determined than ever. “Dad, stop worrying about Denise. Your gassy stink-son has it all covered.
All you need to do is trust me and keep taking my nasty butt stink so beautifully. Am I understood?” Jacob orders, tone leaving no room for argument.
Jacob’s words assure me. I want to have my happily ever after with him. And I want Denise to be someone forgotten in the past.
I let my body go lax and fall into his embrace. I bury my face in his neck. “Okay, son, I trust you. Please get rid of her. I want it to be just us.”
I can hear the happiness and pride in Jacob’s voice. “There’s my good, fart-loving, Dad.” He pets the back of my head. “I’m going to take care of you and always keep you happy. And anyone who gives you the slightest bit of trouble will have to deal with your stink-son’s toxic swamp ass.”
Jacob pulls me into another kiss. “Now let's go. We got some evidence to collect.”
Jacob takes my hand and leads us to the garage, grabbing the keys to my new Tesla on the way.
Jacob peels out of the driveway, and we soon find ourselves cruising down the dark highway. I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s one in the morning.
“So where are we going?” I question.
Jacob impishly grins as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Don't worry about that. You should be more worried if you’ll survive riding with your smelly stink-son.”
Jacob leans heavily on his left butt cheek, propping his right one into the air, aiming his ass crack in my direction.
Jacob takes a deep breath and then grunts.
PPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOBBBBBBB
Jacob pushes out a 6-second fart. The stench of rancid meat and onions permeates throughout the whole interior of the car.
Jacob sighs in relief and starts fanning the fart vapors beneath his ass my way.
“Oh yeah, this isn’t an all-electric car anymore. Take my nasty gas, Dad.”
“Bad news for your nose, Dad. Your stink-son’s asshole is just getting started.”
BBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD
Jacob blasts another wave of his ass gas towards me. I hear a click and realize he just powerlocked the windows.
“Clean air no longer exists in here, Dad. This is the only air you’ll get. Choke on it… NGH”
FFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT
MMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPP
RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMDDDDDDDD
We keep driving for 2 hours straight. All the while, Jacob keeps ripping one beastly fart after another. The muggy air of the car is vile and stifling, and I love it.
We finally pull into an almost empty truck stop. I see just one truck parked here. Jacob parks next to it and hops out. I step out, joining him. I have no clue why we’re here.
Jacob steps up to the driver's door of the truck and rips it open. I’m startled to find a middle-aged man with his cock out, taking a pic of himself on his phone.
The man quickly stuffs himself back in his underwear. I don’t know if he’s red from embarrassment or anger.
“Who the hell-”
The man starts, but Jacob doesn’t let him finish. Jacob climbs up, fists the man by the collar of his shirt, and tosses him out. The guy lands on his back, on the gravel, with a grunt.
Jacob jumps back down. Jacob stands above the trucker, arms crossed, moonlight bouncing off his shirtless, sculpted upper body, looking like a primordial god of masculinity.
The trucker’s eyes keep bouncing between Jacob’s stern expression and his bulging biceps. My eyes were locked on the back of Jacob’s shorts. How the material of his shorts clung desperately to his basketball-sized mounds; how the seam was lost deep between his two massive cheeks.
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Are you Mike Whelmer?”
“Yeah,” The trucker mutters hesitantly, “What’s this about? Do I owe you money or something?”
“He’s my father, “Jacob nods his head towards me, “You’ve been fucking his wife.”
Jacob walks forward, over the trucker, “Anyone who screws with my Dad has to deal with me.” He stops when his feet are planted on either side of his shoulders. “Well, to be more precise,” He turns around facing the trucker’s feet, “They have to deal with all this ass.”
“If I were you, I’d take a deep breath right about now.”
The trucker wasn’t ready, and neither was I.
Jacob pulls his legs out from beneath him. His titanic bum comes crashing down on the trucker’s face, like a meteor. I swear it feels like the ground beneath me rumbled from the impact.
The trucker and I simultaneously groan. The trucker groans in pain, muffled beneath Jacob’s butt. I groan from the arousing vision of the trucker’s entire head completely vanishing beneath Jacob’s doughy cakes.
Jacob wasn’t bothered by the trucker’s erratic struggling as he remained seated on his face with a smug grin.
Jacob rocks his butt from side to side and up and down, all over the trucker’s face.
Once Jacob was good and comfortable, he scrunched up his face in concentration.
VVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBBDDDDDDDDTTTTTTTTT
RRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHMMMMMM
PPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFF
Jacob drops a series of booming farts point-blank in the trucker’s face. They sounded brutal. I’m not sure if I should be jealous or pity Jacob’s victim.
“Oh yeah, you smell that? That's the smell of consequences.”
FFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBB
MMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPP-DDDDDDDDVVVVVVVVVV
“Damn, that was bad, even for me. But wait, there’s more, a lot more.”
BBBBBBBBHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT
DDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPPP
PPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBB
“This is what you deserve. No one crosses my Dad.”
Jacob lifts his ass, revealing the trucker’s red, sweaty face, who sounds like he’s trying to cough up a lung.
Jacob peers down at the trucker from in between his legs, keeping his ass a foot above the suffering man’s face.
“You knew you were fucking a married woman. If you want this to stop, you will send me screenshots of your text with Denise. Better yet, just unlock your phone and hand it over.
The trucker was too busy coughing and gagging to reply. Jacob didn’t like that.
Jacob lowered his ass until his crack was kissing the tip of the trucker’s nose.
PPPPPPPP-FFFFFFFFFF-BBBBBBBBB
Jacob rips a chain of farts on the guy’s nose. They must be bad because the guy’s crying. Jacob talked over him. “I won’t repeat myself!”
With fumbling hands, the trucker unlocks his phone and hands it up to Jacob.
For the next few minutes, Jacob sends screenshots of texts to his phone. I can hear his phone dinging in his pocket every couple of seconds.
I moved behind Jacob to see the texts, and they were damning.
“How did you know about Mike?” I ask.
“Had some old buds keep eyes on Denise. They’ve seen her and Mike together over the last two years.” Jacob reveals as he continues his task.
This wasn’t spontaneous. This was premeditated. Jacob’s been planning this for some time.
Jacob nods to himself. “Alright, I got what I needed.” He carelessly tosses the phone to the ground.
“We’re done here. Let’s finish you off.” Jacob says mostly to himself.
Jacob quickly pulls down the back of his shorts. His pillowy globes wobble above the trucker’s face.
“No, please-” Is all the trucker can get out before Jacob sits carelessly on his face. His head is instantly swallowed up between Jacob’s doughy cakes.
“I’ve brewed up a big and nasty fart just for you, buddy. In the future, remember this moment when you think about fucking another man’s wife. NGH… Take my stink… UGH”
A monstrous, 45-second fart comes roaring out of Jacob’s ass. The trucker’s thrashing becomes weaker and weaker by the second. When Jacob’s huge fart comes to a sputtering end, the trucker’s body is mostly still. I’d almost think he was dead if it weren’t for his twitching fingers.
Jacob sighs in relief, but doesn’t get off the trucker’s face yet. Instead, for the next couple of seconds, Jacob grinds his ass all over the guy’s face, rubbing his butt musk into his pores.
Jacob finally rises off his face, accompanied by a wet squelch. The trucker’s unconscious face is drenched with Jacob’s butt sweat.
Jacob stands up, not caring that his fat ass is still hanging out.
Jacob pulls out his phone with a victorious grin and shakes it at me. “What did I tell you, Dad? With this, Denise is as good as gone, and she won't be entitled to anything.”
“I never doubted you for a second. I knew my brilliant and nasty stink-son would always save me.”
My words cause Jacob’s eyes to alight with lust. He looks from left to right, ensuring we’re still alone. The unconscious man at their feet doesn’t matter.
Jacob tightly grabs two handfuls of my ass and pulls me in until our fronts are flush together. Jacob bends his head down, and I shudder when his lips graze my ear. “I can’t wait until you divorce that bitch, Dad. I want your tight, studly body all to myself.” He softly growls.
I shudder again as he rolls his hips, making his hardening member known. “And Dad, you’ve never experienced anything until your stink-son impales you on his thick meat. You’ll be limping for a week.”
“But until then.” Jacob takes a step back, grabs a handful of hair on the top of my head, and turns away, mooning me. “I guess I’ll just stick with forcing my butt stink on you.”
Jacob pulls my head down, slamming it against his bare ass. My nose slips in between his cheeks. I feel his glutes flex and then relax.
RRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPPPPP
Things start to move fast when we leave the truck stop. I quickly filed for separation. The texts destroyed her in court.
Six months later, we are divorced, and she gets nothing.
The last of her stuff is in a box. Jacob takes the box from me. He lifts the lid, brings it behind himself, and sticks his ass inside. He makes a show of contorting his face exaggeratedly.
PPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFF-tststststssss
He rips a long, juicy fart into her box of things. He slips the lid back on and teases. “She’s in for a real treat when she opens this.”
I laugh, that was funny but hot.
I take the box and set it on the porch. At the same time, Mike’s truck pulls up. He’s alone. He walks up to the porch, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His eyes keep nervously going to Jacob, who’s standing next to me.
“She sent me to pick up the last of her stuff,” he says so softly I barely hear him.
Jacob says nothing, but out of the corner of my eye, I see the cheeky smirk on his face. Mike’s not leaving Scott-free.
I nod. The trucker looks relieved. I almost feel sorry for him.
Jacob waits for the trucker to bend down to pick up the box. That’s when he grabs the back of the trucker’s head and wheels around. He pulls the man’s panic-stricken face against his jeans-clad bulbous backside.
“Not agai-” He’s silenced as Jacob’s meaty globes mold around his face, smothering the trucker and muffling his cries.
“Since you’re at it, could you bring Denise this? It’s from her son with love.”
Jacob narrows his eyes, clenches his teeth, and starts grunting and straining.
Jacob launches a 55-second butt bomb point-blank in the trucker’s face. Jacob must have shown restraint because the trucker isn’t knocked out this time.
The trucker stumbles back towards his truck, with the box, on wobbly legs. Coughing and retching along the way.
When the trucker drives off, I playfully elbow Jacob’s side.
“You're such a bully, son.” I tease. Over the past several months, I’ve leaned into the father/son play, embracing and loving it.
He shoots me a roguish, lopsided grin. “He got off easy. Wait until you smell what my guts are brewing up for you tonight, Dad. Your nose hairs' hours are numbered.”
Two Years Later
Once Denise was out of our lives, Jacob and I became an official couple. In public, we present ourselves as a happy couple. In private, we live for Jacob dominating me with his farts and our father/son dynamic.
And as of today, we’ve confessed our love for each other.
Unlike Denise, Jacob has a job. He’s a digital artist for an advertising company. He works remotely from home. He is usually walking around in a pair of tight briefs, which does nothing to filter the smells coming out of his fat, musky ass.
Whether I’m home or not, he is constantly farting. Every inch of our house always reeks of his sweaty, swampy ass. Jacob is unapologetic about it; he knows I love it.
The feeling of returning home after a long day of work has significantly changed. No longer does it fill me with misery and loneliness. Now it’s happiness and anticipation. All thanks to a gassy man, built like a football player, and sporting the ass the size of a beachball. And who’s always ready and able to fart in my face.
Every night I return home, Jacob never wastes any opportunity to subject me to his flatulent antics. Jacob is both clever and playful with how he farts on me.
Like now, I’m sitting on the couch, watching TV. Jacob steps in front of me, blocking the TV. He’s facing away from me, his shorts are pulled down to his thighs, mooning me with his bare, fleshy orbs.
“This shit is boring. I’ve got something better for you to watch.” Jacob reaches back with both hands. He grabs the top of my head with one hand and spreads his cheeks open with the other. He unceremoniously shoves my face into his ass, entombing me between his meaty moons. I feel my lips pressing against his grimy asslips. This isn’t the first time I’ve received a raunchy kiss like this from Jacob, and probably won't be the last. And I’m here for it. This is my happily ever after.
“It’s getting rave reviews. From what I hear… UGH… It’s very immersive… NGH”
"Quick, your sister won't be long. Get your face in there and take this fart. I don't want her to smell it when she comes back, we've not been dating long enough to experience my funk. It'll scare here off. But she told me you were a faggot, so you'll appreciate it"
Like many others in my world, I manifested my powers during puberty. The first time it happened, I accidentally broke a vase with my mind during an argument. From that point on, life at home got... complicated. My emerging telekinetic abilities made day-to-day living unpredictable and tense, barley 1% of humans have supernatural abilities, and my parents, being your run of the mill powerless humans didn’t make things any better.
So, like most teenagers with supernatural abilities, I was sent off to a private academy to hone my powers. After high school, I enrolled at one of the most prestigious hero colleges in the U.S.—Ridgemore U. Becoming an actual superhero had never really interested me, but I figured there had to be other ways I could use my abilities to help people.
The dorms on campus were large and surprisingly spacious, with sleek, futuristic sliding doors that had to be at least nine feet tall, clearly built to accommodate a wide variety of students with unique traits. As I stepped into my room and began unpacking, I found myself wondering, What kind of freak needs doors that tall?
That’s when my roommate arrived.
A towering, muscular young man ducked slightly under the doorframe to enter the room. My jaw nearly dropped. He introduced himself as Willis Miller, and his enormous hand completely engulfed mine in a handshake.
"Uh... Jayce, nice to meet you," I answered awkwardly.
Willis was a miniature giant among men. His presence alone filled the room. As we both unpacked our things, I couldn’t help but sneak glances at him when he wasn’t looking. Beyond his height, he was honestly kind of stunning dark brown hair almost black, a strong jawline, a thick, athletic linebacker build, and a slight red flush on his cheeks. His school-logo t-shirt was drenched at the armpits and stretched over his torso, showcasing his broad shoulders, solid pecs, and huge arm muscles. But the part that really drew my attention was his ass perfectly round and far too tempting not to notice. Every time he bent down to dig something out of his duffel bag, my eyes drifted back to it.
As we got settled, we started talking and getting to know each other. Eventually, we revealed our powers. Willis shared that he was the son of the former hero ,Titus." Suddenly, his size made a lot more sense. Titus had been a popular, though somewhat niche, hero back in the '90s. He was famous for his staggering height 8 feet 5 inches, which made him one of the world’s tallest heroes. Along with his super strength and durability, he was a fan favorite.
Now I was sharing a room with his son, who had inherited his abilities and then some. I resisted the urge to ask, but he had to be at least 9 feet tall.
Willis had a chill, easygoing jock energy to him the type of guy who’d probably been popular in high school without even trying. His voice was deep, and his sentences had a charming slowness to them. He was like an oversized himbo. That kind of relaxed confidence helped put me at ease, at least a little.
After we finished unpacking, our stomachs started to grumble, so we decided to check out the cafeteria. As Willis led the way, I trailed a step behind, trying not to stare. His basketball shorts clung tightly to his huge glutes, each step sending a hypnotic bounce through that massive bubble butt. It was like watching a work of art move in slow motion. I had to literally shake my head to snap myself out of it.
Once we got to the cafeteria, my first-day nerves limited me to just a small sandwich. Willis, on the other hand, put away a borderline ridiculous amount of food four double cheeseburgers with fries, a personal pan pizza, two large chocolate milkshakes, and for dessert, a giant cookie and soft serve. It was like watching a human garbage disposal in action. He didn’t even look remotely full afterward. Casually, he let out a deep 10-second belch and blew it to the side. But for the next few minutes, I could smell the meaty stench of it in the air.
As we were tossing out our trays, I caught a strange look on his face. It was subtle, like he was trying to suppress something, but I didn’t think much of it. We decided to head back to the dorm to charge our phones before heading out to explore campus some more.
Walking back, Willis led the way again, his long legs carrying him smoothly down the hall. Suddenly, he stopped short, and I nearly bumped into him. Before I could ask what was wrong, he lifted one leg slightly and let out a massive fart.
It was thunderous. Easily 20 seconds long. Loud enough to echo down the hallway and rattle the nearby windows like a mini-earthquake. Then the smell hit me.
A wave of hot, putrid air slammed into my face like a wall. It was awful a sickening mix of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and sewage. I felt my face heat up and the bile rise in my throat, but I forced it back down, swallowing hard.
Willis turned around, face flushed but with a mischievous smirk.
“Phew,” he said, fanning the air behind him. “Guess two milkshakes and ice cream was overkill. Dairy’s tearing me up.”
I tried to laugh, to keep it light, but I was genuinely getting dizzy from the lingering stench. Willis’s smile faltered slightly, replaced with concern as he looked me over.
“Come on, buddy, let’s get you some fresh air,” he said, guiding me gently with his huge hand on my back.
He led me far enough down the hall that the air was clean again free from the noxious cloud he’d unleashed and I started to feel a bit better. My head was still spinning slightly, but at least I could breathe again.
Dazed, I looked up at Willis. He wore a lopsided expression part guilty, part amused.
“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should’ve warned you before I let one rip. You okay though? You were looking a little lightheaded back there. Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s passed out, I’ll tell you that much.”
I blinked at him, trying to gauge whether he was joking or being serious.
“Yeah... I’m fine, don’t worry,” I said, unsure if I should laugh or be concerned.
He grinned wide, clearly enjoying my reaction, but there was a flicker of sincerity behind his eyes like he genuinely hoped I was okay, even if he thought it was kind of funny.
When we arrived back at the dorm, Willis pulled out the bed extender he was provided for his size accommodations and snapped it into place before collapsing onto his mattress. He kicked off his sneakers with a heavy thud and laid back, scrolling through his phone for a bit.
That’s when I caught a glance that made me whip my head around in awe. I hadn’t really noticed before, but his feet and his shoes were massive. Possibly bigger than my entire lower arm. If I had to guess just from looking…
Then, just as suddenly, that same lightheaded feeling from earlier returned. The sharp stench of his foot odor began to fill the room like an invisible gas bomb. It was like he marinated old cheese in warm vinegar and let his feet soak in it overnight. My nose wrinkled, and I tried not to gag.
Willis glanced over and caught me staring. He grinned.
“Yeah, they’re huge, right?”
I tried to play it cool, pretending I wasn’t looking but he saw right through me.
“Nah, bro, no shame in it. I’m a big guy. I get that you’re probably curious. Size 34, before you ask. And I’m a tad over 9’5 nowadays.”
My mouth nearly dropped open.
“Thirty-four?? I—I didn’t even know they made shoes that big,” I stammered.
“They don’t,” he laughed. “But it helps that my dad was famous in his glory days and can pay for custom pairs whenever I need ’em. The money from his merch loyalties alone is enough to keep our family comfortable.”
“Uh—royalties,” I corrected.
“Yeah, those things,” he said.
Then he nodded toward the corner where I left my shoes. “What about you, big man?”
Something about the way he called me big man, even though it couldn’t be further from the truth, made my heart skip a beat.
“Size 10,” I said, suddenly a little self-conscious of my completely normal feet.
Willis looked like he was doing the math in his head, then chuckled. “Damn… I haven’t worn shoes that small since I was a kid.”
He stared at me for a beat, then noticed my discomfort and the lightheadedness from the stink still encircling the room.
“Oh shit, my bad, bro,” he said, quickly getting up and sliding the window open. “I forget how bad these dogs can reek after being cooped up all day.”
Cool air rushed in, and the worst of the smell began to slowly disperse. He glanced back at me.
“You good?”
Snapping out of my daze, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good,” he said with a relieved sigh, though the air still hung heavy with the scent of foot funk. It was the second time this giant of a man had nearly rendered me unconscious with his stink.
And if I’m being completely honest with myself... it was a little bit attractive.
As I was lost in thought, trying not to look visibly overwhelmed, he caught the expression on my face and decided to come clean.
“This might sound weird,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “but it’s kind of part of my powers, well.. kinda. I mean, I’m obviously way bigger and stronger than the average human... but I’m also, like, ten times as smelly.”
He chuckled awkwardly. “Big man, big stink. Kinda like an extra power if you wanna look at it that way.”
I blinked at him, stunned.
“All my life I’ve had issues keeping my odor in check,” he continued. “Especially when it comes to gas. It’s bad, man. Like, hazardous levels of bad. That earlier comment I made? About people passing out? I wasn’t joking. I’ve knocked out more folks than I can count.”
He was so casual about it, so matter-of-fact, that I had to strain not to get turned on. I tried not to think too hard about it, but his lingering foot odor still in the air only made the task more difficult.
When he finished explaining, his expression turned a little guilty.
“I should’ve said something earlier. You totally have the right to talk to the housing office if you want a new roommate. I’d get it, seriously.”
But I surprised him and maybe even myself when I shook my head.
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll stick around.”
His eyes lit up. A wide, grateful grin spread across his face.
“I knew you were cool, bro,” he said, walking over and picking me up in a hug that was just a bit too tight. “We’re gonna be best buds. Trust me you’ll get used to it in no time.”
“Mmmhh...” I muttered, my face sandwiched between his meaty pecs.
Then, just as I was starting to feel a little more grounded, that mischievous glint returned to his eyes. He put me down.
“Speaking of…”
He suddenly spun around, and before I could react, he let loose another fart in my direction one somehow louder and longer than the first. The force shook the dorm room like a subwoofer at full volume, vibrating the walls and floor and blowing back my hair.
Then the smell hit, even more terrible than before. The heat was like standing in front of an open oven.
Before I could even fully process what just happened, my vision started to blur.
This is gonna be a long semester, I thought to myself as everything faded to black.
“You’re in my seat bub.” He smirked and huffed his chest at you in response.
You however didn’t notice. Too busy in your own world trying to get yourself used to the gym; it was your first day after all.
It was too bad that you were still unaware, fidgeting with your headphones as this man was lumbering behind you.
“Sorry runt im in a hurry and you’re in my spot.”
He grabbed your headphones and chucked them off. You whip around to complain but your face is instantly pressed against Marks hairy rump as his ass engulfs your head!
He grunts and flexes his anal muscles as you struggle, becoming nothing but ass food in the process!
Your body is pushed, gripped and pulled deeper inside until your feet are wiggling outside his buttcheeks until Mark sits down; pushing your feet inside his hungry ass as he quickly devoured you faster than you could react.
You squrimed as best as you could, trapped helplessly in Marks ass. You tried to call for help, all for naught of course. The gym was empty save for the part timer working the front counter.
Your fate was sealed as Mark gave his ass a slap with you eventually becoming the ass meal he deserved as he wrapped up his workout and went home to enjoy his ass meal for the night.
Sounds of greetings came muffled through the closed door. They were there for a minute or two, taking off shoes and jackets, the odd sound of cans and bottles clinking. The sound grew a little louder and then there was a tap on the door of the Fart Room; the cupboard under the stairs where you were knelt chained to the wall.
A round of laughter from guests who arrived that trailed off as they went through to start the party. You heard music playing in another room but otherwise you were left to your silent solitude. Your thoughts of utter humiliation, of shame and embarrassment. With each passing moment the dread built inside of you, knowing at any minute someone might come in and put you to work as the party's fart filter. But for a while nothing happened, your silence only interrupted by the odd knock at the front door or ring of the doorbell. The sound of the arrivals greeting the host, and the repeated tap at your door followed by cheers, laughs or applause. You imagined each time the host was informing the guests of your attendance. That their farts would be taken care of tonight.
Your phone had been taken from you so you weren't sure how much time had passed. But you thought it may have been at most half an hour. The newcomers seemed to have stopped, everyone coming was here and the party was in full swing out there. Over the music now was the general loud murmur of conversations. Each time a voice would get louder you froze, expecting the door to open, but then the voice would trail off as they went to another room.
At one point you heard someone walking up the stairs, and you had a moment of realisation. What if one of them went to the toilet, took a shit, and then later came to visit you! The host had pulled his pants down to give you his farts without a barrier, was that what they'd all do?! You started counting the seconds between people going upstairs and back down. So far everyone seemed quick, just a piss you hoped. The last guy went up the stairs and about half way up started jumping up and down on them, right above your head giving you an awful fright that caused you to hit your head on the low ceiling. He carried on, laughing as he went.
Eventually though, your luck ran out. The door opened and a man walked in. He was huge. He reminded you of those who'd compete on World's Strongest Man. You knew he'd be incredibly strong but the body gave a more chubby aesthetic. He struggled to manoeuvre in the room.
"Evening". He said but didn't wait for a response as he pivoted on the spot. His large ass coming round to your face.
BBRRPPPBBB
BBBRRRRPPPP
PPPPBBBBPPP
The farts came out thick and fast. They still made you jump each time, causing you another bump to the head since you'd been leaning so far back to avoid having to get close to the man. He looked like a slob in his joggers and faded vest. You assumed he struggled to find clothes to fit his frame.
"Oi!" he barked.
Bringing you back to attention. Before you could even respond or react he backed up. Your head crushed against the ceiling, the sides of your face engulfed by his large cheeks. The light was blocked out.
He held you there. Your nose pressed up against his hole. You could barely breathe. Each inhalation filled your lungs with his gas. The smell of day long sweat absorbed in to the joggers mixed in with the rank shitty smell of his farts.
"There we go". He cooed above. Slowly rocking his ass side to side, taking your face with it.
"Breathe it in and I'll report back you're doing a good job. Apparently I'm the first guest of the night to use you. Not surprising as I usually can't go long without letting rip"
Bbbbrrrrrpppppp
"Oh, right on cue"
Again he rolled his ass across your face. "Breathe it in".
After each subsequent fart he let the silence of the room hang, only disturbed by the desperate breathing attempts you made from beneath his ass. The weight was crushing you nose and your skull, you fought back the desperate need to push him off you. Fearing what would happen if you tried. Instead you let his rolling ass take your head without resistance, it helped spread the pressure and on each end the of the arc you got a bit more room to inhale the noxious air.
"Good job, see you later". With that he stepped away. The light blinding you. Out through the door he went, leaving you alone again. The room had the remnants of his farts. A sulphurous smell. Having been struggling to breathe for so long you took in deep lungfuls. The smell soon vanished, the next person would be grateful of that.
From outside there was a moment and then a crowd of cheers. He must have been telling the room you had done a good job, you were performing in your role as the party fart filter.
Danny : Social Update : Say hi to this fellow facesitter ! He wanted to experience my infamous smothering but is already struggling without any gas needed! Im not called the dom of Doms for nothing 😏
You opened the door into the kitchen and turned around to quickly close it. You then turned back around, only for a horrifying sight to meet your eyes. Your stepdad was sitting on a stool at the table, with his jeans pulled down and pants riding up him, exposing his hairy, musky ass. He appeared to be eating something rather loudly. The sight revolted you and made you want to scarper before he discovered you were in the room.
You'd never liked your stepdad, from the day you first properly met him, he was always so cruel to you. He would regularly visit the gym and workout, meaning he constantly stank of sweat. But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was, because of his gym diet, he would often rip the most revolting farts imaginable. And worse, he'd always seemed to do them around you deliberately and laugh as you would cough and gag on the stench. He always said it was the stink of a 'real man' and that you should get used to it, or that you were 'weak and pathetic'. So of course, you didn't want to be noticed by him.
Frrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaapppppppppppppp!
Just as you were thinking this over, a loud fart boomed out across the room. You jumped in shock as you looked over at the obvious source of the noise. Your stepdad just sighed and chuckled heartily, before going back to eating. You had to get out of the way before the smell hit you.
Maybe you could try hiding in the bathroom, as the entrance to it was right near and it was slightly ajar, meaning it wouldn't make a sound. You crept over to it, and began to open it when you suddenly lurched and gagged loudly. The second the door was fully opened you were hit with a combined smell of eggs and shit. It was unbearable and you leaned over coughing loudly as the stink burned your nose. Unfortunately, this loud reaction drew the attention of a certain someone.
"Ha, I wouldn't go in there if I had a weak nose like yours boy. Those eggs and protein shakes just went right through me this morning." Your stepdad said, looking back at you smiling meanly. You couldn't believe that. How did it still stink of his morning dump, when it was nearly the evening?
"But I guess that's hard for you, being so pathetic and all." He now got up from his seat and made his way over to you, still grinning menacingly. You wanted to try and run away, but your mind was still boggled by the smell from the bathroom and wasn't allowing you to kick into action.
"I nearly expected better from you, but honestly I couldn't even do that. Seems like you need a reminder of who's in charge here." And then, before you could make a run for it, he grabbed by the back of the neck and forced you into position. You couldn't move at all, with the strong grip he had on you.
Then, to your continued horror, he turned around facing away from you and pulled down his pants, his ass now fully on display. It came as no shock to you that it absolutely reeked. It smelt like he hadn't even properly wiped after his previous toilet usage. It was too repulsive for you.
"Let's see if you can survive the smell my lunch burrito coming out the other end." That explains what he was eating. And, before you could object, he grunted loudly.
FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRRPPPPPTTTT
BBBBBBRRRRRAFFFFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT
PPPPPPRRRRRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPPTTTT
The slew of farts blasted against your face with no protection between you and his colossal ass. The stink was unbearable and you felt like were going to pass out. Your stepdad just looked down and laughed at you.
"Are you giving up already? That's just sad. I've ripped worse ones at the gym. Yet you can't handle a few measly puffs? Well, perhaps this'll set you straight." He then grunted again, much to your demise.
He was truly was a gasbag that seemed to have a never ending supply, that would always be used to torment you. You couldn't handle it any more, as your brain began to shut down due to no clean oxygen in the room anymore.
You then felt him let go of you, as you passed out onto the floor. As your eyes were closing, the last thing you saw was your stepdad bending over you.
"And don't you ever forget who's in charge around here." He said, grinning at you wickedly. You couldn't keep dealing with this, you had to move out soon.
"Dude, I swear, if you don't stop talking about my ass, I'm gonna make you eat your words," Nick said, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement as he threw a pillow at Josh's grinning face. They had been best friends since high school, but lately, the constant teasing was getting under Nick's skin.
Josh, unfazed by the pillow assault, chuckled and sipped his drink. "What's the matter, Big N? Can't handle a little flirting?"
Nick's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. He'd had enough of the relentless jabs at his expense. Standing up from the couch, he towered over the cocky, smaller man. "Alright, I've got something that'll shut you up," he said, walking over to his bookshelf. He pulled out a small vial of powder, hidden behind a book titled "Quantum Mechanics for Dummies." It was a gag gift from a past birthday, but Nick had found a peculiar use for it.
"What's that?" Josh asked, his curiosity piqued.
Nick smirked as he approached, the vial glinting in the dim light. "It's a little something that'll give you a taste of your own medicine," he replied, shaking the powder into Josh's drink. He watched as the substance dissolved, leaving no trace.
Josh took a gulp, feeling the cold liquid trickle down his throat. "What the hell did you put in here?" he coughed, his eyes watering slightly.
"Just a little... perspective," Nick said with a wink. He sat back down, watching his friend closely.
Moments later, Josh's eyes began to widen in shock as his body started to shrink rapidly. "What the fuck, Nick?!" he shouted, his voice squeaking as he looked down at his now tiny hands. The room around him grew larger, the furniture becoming towering giants. His cockiness evaporated into sheer panic.
Nick leaned back on the couch, a sadistic smile playing on his lips. "You wanted a piece of me, didn't you?" He took a sip of his own drink, the same one he had offered to Josh, and felt a rush of power surge through him. "Now, you'll get more than you bargained for," he said, his voice deep and commanding.
The world around Josh grew even larger, the fabric of his reality stretching to an impossible scale. His heart hammered in his tiny chest as he stared up at Nick, who now looked like a giant deity looming over him. Nick's fingers grew into monstrous sausages, and his teeth resembled boulders ready to crush him.
"Please, Nick, stop this!" Josh squeaked, his voice barely audible in his new, miniature form. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Nick's smile only widened as he reached down and plucked him from the floor like a tiny, squirming toy.
"Oh, I'm just getting started," Nick said, his eyes glinting with mischief. He brought Josh closer to his face, the warmth of his breath making him tremble. "You see, I've had enough of your shit, and now it's time for you to learn who's really in charge here."
Josh struggled in Nick's grip, his tiny limbs flailing against the giant's unyielding fingers. The room spun around him as he was suddenly placed on the cold, hard marble countertop in the kitchen. Everything was so massive, so overwhelming. He felt utterly powerless, his bravado from earlier now a distant memory.
"Nick, please, this isn't funny," he begged, his voice echoing pathetically in the cavernous space. But Nick just chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a newfound thrill. He picked up a jar of peanut butter, the label seemingly the size of a billboard to Josh.
"You know what I've always wondered?" Nick said, his deep voice booming in the vast kitchen. "How it feels to be completely powerless at the mercy of someone else." He unscrewed the jar with an alarming ease, the sound of it echoing through the room like thunder. The scent of the peanut butter filled the air, thick and suffocating to the tiny man trapped on the countertop.
Josh's eyes widened in horror as he watched Nick's giant spoon scoop out a dollop of the sticky substance. It looked like a mountain to him, a golden-brown monolith of despair. "Please, man, don't do this," he whispered, his voice cracking with fear.
But Nick's grin only grew more sinister. "Why not?" He dipped the spoon down, the peanut butter seemingly an eternity away from the counter. "You've always had such a smart mouth. Now, let's see how it feels to be the one on the receiving end of the teasing."
With a swift motion, he scooped up Josh, plunging him into the sticky abyss. Josh screamed, his tiny voice muffled by the thick goo as it enveloped him. The taste was overpowering, the stickiness clinging to every part of him, making it impossible to move. His world was now a sea of brown, with no escape in sight.
Nick held the spoon up to his own mouth, licking off a bit of the peanut butter that had clung to the side, smacking his lips. "Mmm, you're just the right amount of salty," he teased, watching the minuscule form of his friend squirm and gasp for air.
"This is fucked up, Nick!" Josh managed to sputter out, his tiny hands flailing against the sticky prison. His body was covered in the gooey substance, making it impossible to get a firm grip on anything.
Nick just chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to fill the entire room. "You're right," he said, his voice now a deep rumble that made the kitchen counters vibrate. "But you're the one who didn't know when to quit." He leaned in closer, his face now a blur of features as seen from Josh's perspective. "Now, you're going to learn what it's like to be the little one for once."
With a flick of his wrist, Nick brought the spoon closer to his mouth, the peanut butter-covered figure of Josh still struggling on it. The smell of the peanut butter was now overwhelming, mixing with the faint scent of Nick's skin and cologne, creating a cocktail of fear and arousal in the trapped man's nostrils. He didn't know how to feel about it, his mind racing with confusion and horror.
"Ready to apologize?" Nick taunted, his breath hot and minty on the spoon.
Josh's tiny voice was muffled by the peanut butter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, just put me back!"
Nick hovered the spoon near his mouth, then abruptly pulled it away, making Josh's stomach lurch. "Oh, I don't think so," he said, his smile wicked. "You're going to be my little secret now, aren't you?"
Panic set in as reality dawned on Josh. He was truly trapped, a toy for his best friend's twisted amusement. "Nick, please, don't do this," he pleaded, his voice trembling with fear.
Ignoring his cries, Nick's massive hand descended upon him, plucking him from the sticky spoon and placing him precariously on the waistband of his own underwear. The fabric felt like a tightrope under his tiny form, the warmth and dampness from Nick's body making him squirm with a mix of revulsion and a strange, unwelcome excitement.
Josh gulped as he found himself nestled between Nick's firm buttocks, the musky scent of his ass enveloping him like a cloud. He couldn't believe the turn his life had taken in such a short amount of time. The world around him was now a sea of skin, muscle, and fabric, with the occasional glimpse of the room beyond the waistline of Nick's pants.
Nick's giant finger emerged from the horizon of his vision, pressing down on him. Josh squirmed, feeling the weight of it, and the heat of his body pressing him into the sweaty crevice. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of sweat, laundry detergent, and something undeniably male that made his heart race. He didn't know if it was fear or arousal, but his body was responding in ways he had never felt before.
Nick's finger slid along his body, leaving a trail of sticky wetness from the peanut butter. Then, without warning, it pushed him out of the safety of his underwear, making him slip down the curve of his ass. Josh screamed, his voice echoing in the vast expanse of fabric. He could feel the coolness of the air outside, the stark contrast from the warm, confined space he'd been in.
As Nick's finger retreated, the tightness of his ass cheeks closed around him, the pressure increasing until it was almost unbearable. The musky scent of Nick's body washed over him, suffocating him in its intensity. He tried to push himself out, but the giant's cheeks were too strong, too powerful. He was trapped, the fabric of the underwear pressing against his face, the elastic digging into his skin like a vice.
Nick chuckled, watching the tiny figure of his best friend squirm between his buttocks. "You like that, don't you?" he teased, his voice reverberating in the vastness of his own body. The thought of Josh's tiny body, so vulnerable and at his mercy, filled him with an odd sense of power and satisfaction. He had always been the dominant one in their friendship, but now he had the means to really drive it home.
Josh's world was a prison of flesh and fabric. The heat was stifling, the scent of Nick's body washing over him in waves that made his head spin. He could feel the soft hairs of Nick's ass brushing against his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. His heart raced as the giant's finger approached again, the anticipation of the painful pressure mixing with the humiliation of his new reality.
"Let's see if you can handle the full experience," Nick murmured, his voice a deep, sinful promise. The finger descended, pushing Josh further into the crevice of his butt. The pressure was immense, the fabric of the underwear acting like a second skin against his face. He gasped for air, feeling the warmth of Nick's body all around him.
The giant's finger retreated again, only to push him back in with more force. Josh's tiny body was a plaything in Nick's game of dominance, the musky scent of his ass suffocating him. Each time the finger retreated, it left a sticky trail of peanut butter, mixing with the sweat of his own fear. He was trapped, unable to escape the claustrophobic confines of Nick's body.
Nick leaned back, feeling the weight of his smaller friend against his ass. He couldn't help but smirk at the power he now held over Josh. "You're going to be my little secret," he murmured, the words vibrating through his body and into Josh's ears. "My personal toy to play with whenever I want."
Josh's heart raced, his body sticky and trapped. He could feel the fabric of Nick's underwear against his face, the elastic digging into his skin as he was pushed in and pulled out, over and over again. It was a relentless game of cat and mouse, with Nick's finger acting as the cruel tormentor.
"Please, stop," Josh whimpered, his voice barely a squeak in the vastness of the room.
Nick's laughter boomed in response, sending vibrations through his ass and into the fabric of his underwear. "But you're having so much fun," he teased, his finger pushing down harder, making the fabric tighten around Josh's face. He could feel the warmth of Nick's skin, the smell of his sweat, and the coarse fabric of the underwear. It was a suffocating, terrifying sensation that left him feeling utterly helpless.
"I hate you," Josh gasped, his voice muffled by the fabric. But even as he said it, he felt his own cock twitch in response to the situation, the fear and humiliation mixing with a bizarre excitement.
"Is that so?" Nick chuckled, his voice low and mocking. "You know, I think you might actually start to enjoy this. You've always had a thing for me, haven't you?" He squeezed his cheeks together, trapping Josh even further, making him squirm and struggle.
Gay erotica and pictures @little-one2211 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
