Anthony sat down on you face, carefully positioning your nose in his jean-clad crack. 'Well nothing could be worse than what Lewis has already done...' You thought with relief.
How wrong you were.
Anthony's stomach made a deep, squelching rumble, and he began farting like there was no tomorrow. Each one lasted for over ten seconds, some even a minute. He moaned with relief as he released a bubbly attack that assaulted your burning nostrils, and he grinded his bum further into your face. "You like it down there, buddy?" He drawled as he lifted himself up slightly to look at you.
"You know what, let's make this interesting." He began to strip of his jeans and was left standing with only white briefs hugging his bubble butt. At least, they used to be white; now they looked muddy and stained. Anthony positioned himself so he was sitting cross legged on the floor, your head in his lap, nose touching the massive bulge in his underwear. He moaned with satisfaction as his crotch vibrated like an earthquake, and a smell of rotten eggs in a gym bag lying in a
sewer factory engulfed the house, and finally, you passed out.
When you woke, most of the smell had cleared, and you processed the fact that the windows had been flung open, and Lewis was looking annoyed at Anthony "I told you to have fun - but not stink up the whole house!" Anthony only shrugged, and you blinked blearily, groaning slightly. They both turned sharply to look at you, and your train of thought suddenly morphs into: 'Oh no.' As the boys exchange evil grins.
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