James, oblivious, stayed put on the couch, his headphones blaring music as he munched on chips, the TV flickering with some action movie. The weight of his body kept Dylan trapped, the heat and musky scent of the crevice enveloping him. “Man, you’re huge,” Dylan muttered, his tone a mix of awe and strain. “Like, really huge. But could you… maybe move a little?” He squirmed, his tiny hands pushing against the fabric, the coarse weave rough against his skin. The pressure was uncomfortable, no question, but the raw intimacy of being so close to James’s massive form sent a thrill through him. “This is insane,” he whispered, half-laughing. “I’m literally in a giant’s crack. Who gets to say that?”
Another low rumble vibrated from James’s gut, and Dylan’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, not again,” he said, bracing himself. A loud brrrt followed, a warm blast of foul air washing over him, the stench sharp and rancid. Dylan wrinkled his nose, coughing slightly, but his excitement didn’t waver. “Ugh, dude, your diet is rough,” he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement rather than anger. “But… kinda adds to the whole giant vibe, y’know?” He wasn’t thrilled about the smell, but the feeling and thrill of being caught in such a raw, intimate moment with a male giant kept him hooked.
James leaned back, sinking deeper into the couch, his weight pressing Dylan harder against the flesh. “Oof, easy, big guy!” Dylan grunted, his body compressed but holding up. The heat was stifling, the boxers trapping the musky air, but Dylan’s mind raced with fascination. “You’re like a freaking mountain,” he whispered, his hands tracing the fabric’s seam, feeling the pulse of James’s body beneath. “Uncomfortable? Yeah. But… damn, this is wild.” He imagined James’s chubby frame towering above—those thick arms, fatter belly, and heavy cock he’d glimpsed through the boxers earlier—and his pulse quickened. “I mean, I’m not mad,” he said, chuckling softly. “Just… maybe don’t sit here all night?”
As James kept watching TV, crunching chips and shifting occasionally, Dylan felt every movement, the cheeks squeezing and relaxing around him. Another faint fart rumbled, less intense but still pungent, and Dylan shook his head, grinning despite himself. “Okay, you’re gassy, I get it,” he muttered. “Part of the package with a guy this big. I can deal.” He pushed against the flesh, trying to find a less crushing position, his discomfort real but tempered by his excitement. “Gotta figure out a plan,” he whispered. “Stay here, soak up the giant experience, or try to wiggle out before I’m stuck all night?”
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