Beholder's Filthy Whims


Written by Septia.


I headed to the door opposite the sink I had relieved myself in, across from the entrance. Behind the moulded door, laid a sight so vile I could taste the wave of pungency in the air elated that I had allowed it to escape. 
	The toilet bowl laid overflowed with movements of tiny legs or plump smooth bodies writhing through a mountain of refuse. Muck laid bunched in with spoiled meat and trash, bones jutted out a pure white, pickled clean to contrast with the shifting myriad of black shells and muddied exterior below. 
	The odour of ammonia and decay crawled through my sense, though made my heart pulse in depravity. 
	“Sure, am I starving,” I said. While stepping inside, I saw a bulging shape on the ground. A rodent, its coat falling off in droves, abdomen engorged and wriggling, eyes blank and frame bereft of life. 
	“Gotta have a seat pillow.” I said and turned around, squatting over the rat, and hoisting myself up, and proceeded to ram my hind right into the floor. 
	My ass pounded into the rat. A detonation of moisture rung out, backed up by the fissuring porcelain concaving into splinters of stone under the weight of the mounting pressure of my smooth, firm bubble butt. My cheeks engulfed the rat, plastering its body to the ground and forming its abdomen to fold into my cheeks, where the steel buns clamped it like a pimple. The rat’s body ruptured in a hail of guts and crimson coated maggots, the flush of grubs pelting my rear in their gellated forms and spackling the walls as well as my thighs in the scarlet hue of my newest cushion. 
	I sat back in the mess, grunting whilst flexing my cheeks, masticating the rodent into paste funnelling in my ass crack and jets gushing forth in spouts over the floor. 
	“Phaaa,” I sighed and leaned back, the gyrating from my hind granulating the corpse paste between my glutes. I fiddled with a shard in the ground where several fractures had intersected, flicking up a chunk of the chip of the flooring and dipped it into the revolting lavatory ragu. Letting the it roam over the insectile ecosystem and gathering up clumps of manure, beetles, and a slew of worms withering and crawling back and forth over the edge. As I held it up to my face, watching maggots burrows through hills of fermented bale and some bugs crawling on and off of my fingers, my gaze lifted, towards the sink. The camera still hung out from the side of the spunk dough, eyeing me.
	I leaned into a satisfied grin, tongue lacing my lips with moisture. The beige hatch hung open, tongue reaching out towards the stuffed chip, crawling around the end of it, and guiding it past my lips. 
	The microcosm of the toilet buffet scrambling as darkness engulfed them. Worms latched onto my lips and beetles scuttled their way up my fingers. 
	I opened wider, and stuffed it in, my lips closing over my fingers, slurps confining and drowning the skittering of untidily legs as I drew my hand free. All the while I maintained eye contact with the camera, savouring the scampering behind my lips, smoothly drawing my thumb across my lip to tuck in the worms and larva, the last long, slender critter dangled from my lips I puckered them around it and drew it in with an ample suction, with my eyes closed, it sounded like I was slurping down pasta slathered in a jelly sauce. The slurp transitioned to blowing a smooch, with lips soaked in grime, droplets of spunk, panels of snot and fresh grub bile. The crunching reverberated through my mouth, the shattering of porcelain milling together with natural armour and pudgy maggots, crawling cries silenced in the masticating munchings of my jaws chopping the content down to gruel.
	The Flooring was a touch difficult, having to grind my molars into it, sometimes leading to one side of my maw stuffed with the other as I ruminated the contents.
	Though I let smooth moans slip out, sometimes leaving a little bug wriggling through my lips and crawling off my face, one unfortunate critter wandering under my nostrils, a snort hurling out a glob of bogger phlegm to latch onto it and an inhale sending it up through the gummed nostrils. I swallowed the bite and trailed the encroaching dome down my gullet, sighing as it faded under the mountain range of my tits, and scraped up a few more tile shards to scoop up more of my dinner. Chip after the chip crunched, bugs crawling and wiggling from my lips along the chopped chunks of their their slower companions grating under my teeth. 
	I grabbed a handful that rubbed over my chest, letting them polka around, wriggling and crawling only to get stuck in the phlegm. I teased the snot covered nipples, carving a hole through the top down to my teat, and through the pit letting scoops of bugs and filth funnel in. I kneaded over my glazed nipples and groaning as the teat swelled with bulges of the wringing bodies. While I savoured the filth I felt crawling sensation under my chest, tiny bulb exploring what was inside. I panted, biting down on my lip and groaning in mouthfuls, tossing away a chip I held and dunked my had into the mulch. The filth caviar smearing around my face with a splatter of diving into a bog. Pulling back came with the smear of drying glue peeling off my skin. I lapped and slurped down the crawling maggots and ants cluttering my face. In-between crunches I reached up to brush maggots towards my eyes, hearing the suction and slurping of my eye slits gorging on the bulbous figures, dipping and sinking into my eyes aces whilst others simply mulched into paste against my eyes. Yellowed bile spreading over my eye whites when I blinked. My fingers took turns in scraping the critters to my maw, mushing them against my eyes, or gathering them against my free ear. Most critters too large to make the journey through my earhole, which only made them mulch with a moist, creamy consistency when their chitin pulped into the slimming canal, every hair on their bodies smashed flat into muck along the rest of them, and leaking back out as chubby links of bug sausages. 
	I was set to enjoying every aspect of the rifest laid before me, and through the experience my face was enamoured by concerns of smushes, squelches and crumbles of liquid containers mulching all across my head and chest. 
	I tore off the tail of the stinging scorpion and plunge it into my tip, then gritting my teeth as I  plunge in more, the bugs crawling just underneath my teat. I gradually pulled it out, cautiously pumping it back in, through my nipple seared with ache, I let it stay just a bit longer before pulling it out like a cork from a flask. I relaxed, huffed and collected my sense, leaning in against the toilet, which had a respectable dent in the manure platter tower, which had mostly transferred to the bump under my abs. I brushed the base of the scorpion tail across myself, rubbing it against my cock and, with some trepidation, stuffing it between my cheeks. Maggots smeared in its path as I felt my pucker hunger for it. 
	“Aah yeah…” I huffed with my mouth full, gobbling down the tiles and titillating treats letting my tongue hang out within exhaustion with merely a couple crushed grubs decorating the succulent drool carpet.


~ 1 ~


I reached out for another mouthful of the sewage slop, feeling it wriggling in my palm whilst my other fist laid busy with grinding the scorpion-tail along the base of my crotch through the tip of my dick, down through the cleavage of my balls and caressing against my grundle, the plates of smushed chitin massaging into in the bottom of my ass gorge. 
	A whisper of static brought back the voice to my ears. “You should greet your guest.” 
	While I was processing this, the door – straight ahead of me – creaked open. 
	“Sounds like there is already someone-…” The man paused when he saw me, the black eye shadow contrasting against his pale cheeks, accentuating his surprise. His hand trailed down from his earpiece, letting his coal-black hair conceal it. A few moments passed, ruled by the crawling displacement of muck, and a lone grub wriggling between my lips. I sucked it in, swallowing the mouthful. 
	“He-hey there,” I said, with caution. 
	“Jason,” he nodded to me, putting his hands in his pockets. 
	“Adrian,” I responded, “guess you've got the same reasons as me for being here?” 
	Jason scrutinized my form as he nodded. I was clad in myriad layers of filth; cum pasting painted over my chest, snot plastered and congealing around my nipples along with the pasted remains of the scorpion. My virile physique was debased in this concoction of raw depravity. 
	“Given any instructions?” Jason asked. 
	I leaned back, in the cesspool  I had forged in my vicinity. “Partaking in the loads from about thirty guys, made it an even fifty though.” 
	Without changing his toned-down expression, Jason let out a whistle. “Funny, mine was not to wash my dick for two weeks,” he said as he took a step forwards, casually thrusting out his hips to indicate the oblong bulge concealed under the jeans, trailing all the way past his thigh, “I went primal for a month.” 
	The nervousness which had been building along my back blossomed into shivers, and in their wake excitement tickled. I smiled, and noticed Jason smirk back. 
	In that moment, I failed to notice the clacking of hardshell to ceramic, until the scorpion stood between me and Jason, marching towards him. 
	Jason held his finger to his ear, nodding. The scorpion crawled closer, an arm's length away from him. 
	Jason raised his foot. The scorpion reeled back, then swung its tail.
	With a flick Jason jabbed the sole of his sneaker in its path, the stinger lodged stuck in one of the of grooves on the technicolour shoe. 
	It clasped its claws, jerking on its tail, though the rubber pattern held in a stable grasp. 
	Jason lowered his foot to the ground. The bulb held under his heel for a moment, then quivers of tension creaked from the bulb, till the mounting pressure broke through the armour, the carapace sundering with the crunch of broken eggs, as fluids drooled under the heel in pools of jelly. 
	First now I noticed the size of Jason's shoe, it had to surpass three deci, longer than two of my forearms. It loomed over the scorpion, large enough to cover the oversized landlubber. 
	It tugged back, legs scampering across the floor, but Jason's boot came down, gradually lowering the sole over the bug. One of the scorpion's claws was caught under the sole’s wake, cracking under the initial force. Though, the foot only pressed harder, milling the chitin to the ground with gushes of foaming scarlet brewing beneath the boot. 
	Jason leaned forwards, letting the centre of gravity shift onwards as the sole pinned the scorpion's head to the ground. Fractures of chitin tore through the air until the body imploded – the demolished form peeled through the lavatory with the mulching pang of a flesh-stuffed action figure through a trash compactor. The tethers of phlegm and scorpion fluids flapped out over the floor in a consistency of spoiled milk, latching up to coat Jason's sneaker in a glistening film whilst it steamrolled over the arthropod, pulverizing it flat to the tiling. Even as Jason's sneaker had its front end hovering a few cents off the ground, there was scampering and flailing from the critter below. 
	He scoffed, and stomped. An eruption of sundering cartilage and rendered flesh crashed through the room, legs severed and flung under the fore, and the remaining paste percolating out in rivers from the divots in the sneaker's ridge. Jason twisted down into the slurry, mottling the remains into slime soaked gravel. 
	“Guess that means my shoe's the apex here. Can't help styling on them with shoes like these.” 
	I crawled over the floor. Jason held up his sole to let me see the spiralling grooves defiled, clotted with scraps of shell and guts. I held it against my face, trailing my tongue over the grooves and feeling the gummed up mush clot in my strokes. I rubbed my whole face into it, the sole reaching up to drool slime dunes into my dirty blond locks. “That was just foul,” I said scraping up my head to face him, clots of the mucus dotting my face and gumming under my eyes. 
	Jason's lip curled. “Save some action for my dick.” 
	This close, I could feel the fermented muck steaming from his crotch, this just kept getting better. 


~ 2 ~


“Head out into the bog and lube up, you do not want to keep Jason waiting.” 
	I agreed with the command and tapped my earpiece, standing tall and brushing a palm over Jason's cheek, he caught my arm and held me close. His arm was caught in my cleavage, pecs juggling against his arm and daubing on a foul mixture across his wrist to his elbow. 
	“Got any ideas for fun? He asked. 
	“Just need a moment to freshen up,” I responded. Outside I could see the footprints in the mud of Jason's sneakers, orienting from another direction than my own. Once the prints converged his dwarfed my own. The mud suckled on my legs and belched after my steps, until I found a spot deep enough. I pried my ass cheeks open, feeling my pucker wink and dropping clumps of maggot mush and bile into the muck. I slumped down ass first, diving into the grime that clasped in a moist suction around my thighs, a bale of mud rushing into my rectum, quivers bolting through my spine as I ground my cheeks down, pops of the surrounding swampland bursting as I ravaged it with my hind. It stuffed me to the point I felt my gutters rejecting it, at which point I made a little show of it, turning over and raising my mud-covered ass up towards Jason in the doorway, showing how my gaping rear disgorged clumps of the mud tube wedged into me.
	He crossed his arms nodding. 
	I scooped up the muck and drew a handful across my chest, paving over the clay underneath in a highway of filth till it reached my lips, chomping and suckling onto the mound till it formed an oblong bale, curling my tongue around the slick, squealing mess of polished grime until I stuffed it all in, rubbing my palm against my face as my cheeks filled with mud, and I guzzled down the bale, letting Jason see the lump traversing my neck and getting swallowed up by my pecs. 
	“Ready and should be lubed enough for you.” 
	“All that mud's going right back in your ass,” Jason responded as he plucked the buttons off of his jeans, dropping them to unsheathe his manhood. 
	A tinge of a quiver crept down my back at the sight; his cock looked like he'd borrowed it from a bull, or, even racing stallions would blush at the girth. I watched the palm thick meat bolster in jerking his hand along the shaft to draw his tatting foreskin over the along the meat, the head of the cock peeking out at the top as if attempting to fit in an ill-fitting shirt. Its hue clouded in a haze of cock grease and rancid spunk stains, giving a blackened tone to the behemoth. Each time the head poked free a ring of smegma plastered out over the tip, drawn back by the skin in clumps of yellowed grit. 
	I felt my muscles tense, biceps jabbing into my tits and mushing them up in my chin. 
	“Like what you see?” 
	I smirked. “Sweet seeing a cock being a worthy match to my ass.” I brushed my digits over my rear, leaving trenches of mud in on my cheeks. 
	“That greedy ass is getting stuffed today,” Jason hummed in response, trudging up to me and digging his fingers into my ass, kneading the buttocks apart and grinding his cock between it. It got a coating of the sloppy mud over the length as it arched along my ass. The girth of brawn budging as he parted my rear. His meat rested its tip over my pucker, brim oscillating against the tainted meat.
	Jason leaned over, grasping up my abs, clutching my pecs, his fingers moulding into them till the resistance of my packed bulk bounced his fingers back, to which he ground them in again. 
	I turned back to see him, gaze interweaving, as I felt pressure mounting… 
	Then, spraining… an ache trailing my brim. 
	“Hmm?” Jason huffed, thrusting his hips forward. His dickhead slammed at my pucker, wedging it inwards. The brim stayed pinched, and a jolt of pain burrowed from my through my tail bone, the thrust sapping the strength from my arms, leaving me slumping into the mud with a bellyflop, the impact reverberating off my chest. 
	“Adrian?” Jason asked, his tone losing its edge. 
	“I ms, I am fi-… fine, man,” I said whilst shuffling up, reaching back and grinding my fist against my pucker, “Just gotta, loosen up.” 
	“Didn't think you'd be, that tight.” Jason teased. I chuckled. 
	Shortly thereafter, he pressed his cock back in through the cleft of my ass, bounding against the pucker, and injecting an ache that spread in a cloud of white-hot steam through my veins. 
	“Germs gha,” I grunted, and winced, Jason stopping once more. 
	“Dude, are yo…” he began, then stopped. 
	We tried different poses. I laid back in the mud, sinking clay clinging just around my rear. He came down close, one hand guiding his cock to my pit. 
	“Grmmr.” He huffed, humping the head down, daubing smegma through my hind canyon. But the force only spread talons of ache throughout my sphincter, and jabbed me deeper back into the mud in each heave, the rhythmic clasp of displaced mud smearing around me like gelled loam, curving into a silhouette of mud around me which rose above my head. My chest jiggled and bobbed to mould into the sides of the bog clay casing. 
	Jason stopped when he saw me wincing and chewing down my lip. We had kept sharing eye contact, though somewhat dispersed over time. He saw through my attempt at masking the ache. 
	“This might not…,” Jason started, standing up, “We might… perhaps just,” he mumbled and raised his arm to the earpiece. 
	I bit down on my lip… My lap was rustling in discomforts from the attempts, but… Was Jason gonna give up? 
	My earpiece sparked, and judging from Jason's expressions, this was for both of us. “Dick's filthy enough it needs a thorough cleanse, there's a solution in the cabinet of stall four.” 
	We looked to each other. 


~ 3 ~


Back in the lavatory, as instructed, there was a cabinet with a jar of 'Cleansing Rite' powder. Opening it up a plume of bleach infested the air. Jason smirked, sitting back on the toilet. 
	“I'm gonna need some help with this,” he said, and with his cock holstered in one hand he dumped a good dose of the white powder over his cock. The abrasive grit clung to this shaft, foaming into bubbles billowing suds in areas with the stored moisture of clumps of hot grease. I watched it take on the guise of a snow-covered landscape, huffing as he took it with a smile, grinding the white talc powder into his base, scrubbing it into loose ridges and nooks across his shaft. 
	“I'm waiting.” 
	I crawled up to the cock, huffing in the air of the chemical brine, 
	“Filthy enough to need my good scrubbing,” I said and planted my lips onto the tip. My taste buds were assaulted with the air of chloride dust and silica-infused smegma. I huffed in the result of air from the tainted shaft intermingling with the bleaching agents. My tongue unfurled to slather over his manhood, feeling the pocks and sputtering of the cleaning agent fusing with my drool. Quivers coursed through my body as I leaned into it, lapping up from the base to the tip, grinding my nostrils on it and burrowing my head at his crotch, snorting in the dust and wading through the sedimentary layers of grime underneath. 
	“Make sure you get it all,” Jason huffed from above, batting his cock into my face and grinding off the dust-infused plaster against my cheeks. He daubed his cock this time at the slit of my eyes, grinding it from my chin all the way up the side of my nose and over my forehead, the fizzing of the cleanser biting into us, its abrasive texture clumping together in the sludgescape strewn across face and dick alike. It overwhelmed my complexion, dropping off clumps of cock jelly, as if the cleanser could not handle the sheer amount of filth defiling us. 


 I laid back on the ground, feeling the smacking of snot still clinging to my rear, chest bouncing in my huffs. Chunks of filth had cracked off of Jason's dick, giving a glimpse to the paler patches beneath. Though, overall the cleanser had slurried the remaining gunk together; black suds and grey goo drippling along the length, appearing all the more as if pulled from a supply of corrupted flesh. 
	“Think you can handle it now?” 
	I huffed at Jason's question, mouth soaked in suds; I brushed it off on my palm and ground it against down my crack. “Promise.” 
	Jason straddled up behind me, spitting on his thumb and fondling it to my pucker, his other hand reaching up to toy with my chest, pinching into the goo coated nipple, transitioning to jerking his shaft with the slobbering squeals of pigs rolling through sewage. “Just let me know…” he said, honing in his shaft in the cleft of my ass, “how much you want it.” 
	“Drive it in there, don't hold back on me, don't you dare…” I huffed out. 
	Jason smirked, and brushed his cheek to mine. I felt his hips thrust forwards, but at the same time, his lips joined mine. The smattering of clotted debris reverberated through the lavatory, my aching brim engorging, rind fluttering and smattering around the meat ploughing into my rectum. The dick congested my intestines and strangled them out along its piercing thrust, the pain spiking through my thighs, down to my rattling calves, but, Jason held me. We exchanged saliva and soaked in fermented in spunk and musk between us, moaning, holding each other up against the wall, as his cock delved deeper. The thrusts echoed through my abdomen and ravaged my thighs. Jason's breath flooded into my cheeks as he growled, my ass constricting his shaft. I felt the bulge engorge out beneath my abs, swelling to the point of warping the toned washboard like a funhouse mirror. It stood little chance under the raw force of his manhood. Squeals of lard and gruel erupted in the heaves and were muffled under the case as the grime, mud and filth forced its way in along with Jason's movements, burrowing them into the abyss along the trenches with his digging.
	Jason broke the kiss, a vine of drool connecting our lips, rippling in his pumping rhythm. My ass suckled on his mast as it sloughed out, squealing with a swat of tenderized ribs in each plunge. “Figured that would loosen you up,” Jason said. In one tug out he shifted behind me, and in the next plunge he hugged around my front, grasping a hold of my jugs and kneading them to a jiggling mess. He pushed me harder against the mirror, cheek and cleavage smothered up against the flat surface, sending vibrations through the blank surface in each rep. 
	“Too late to back out now, I am gonna blow your ass away, Adrian,” Jason huffed out, nibbling at my ear as the thrusts slowed. More and more of his shaft dug into me with the claps of a shovel piercing a bog, and then, when I could feel his sack slap into my posterior – curving out a mould of their shaft in my plump hind fat – Jason squeezed into my pecs and howled. 
	The rush of heat singed me – a geyser placed right through my rectum to release a relentless rush. My insides rinsed with the raw spunk projecting out of it. The strain his cock put on my system amplified when the liquid chunked its way around it, bloating out the folds of my digestive tract to a smooth cum balloon. My stomach bloated, engorging in the injection of bile, protruding out over the sink, swallowing the bulge of Jason's cock in its magnitude. Splinters of the shattering mirror pierced through the air around us, my chest burrowing into the reflective glass in the thrust, and the steadily engorging abdomen weighed down onto the sink below. This, coupled with my exhaustion leaving me at Jason's spent whims, allowed me to hear the cracks of rebar bending in the walls. The sink tilted over to contain the mass of my billowing abdominal protrusion. Sagging, spunk filled flesh swelled to fit the mould of the rotund basin. 
	Jason laid in close to my back, our bodies sharing one heat source; we warmed one another through the exchange of passion… but then, as he withdrew his mast, I felt the strain crystalize through my veins. Without his warmth, there as an unnatural coursing in the walls of my intestines, stirring the hot fluid. 
	His shaft slopped out of my rear, and I followed suit, drawn off the wall and falling on my knees, chest bouncing into the ground and propping me up before I got a chance to catch my fall. Peering up I saw an imprint of scorpion guts and other filth mortar pasted against the glass, in a faint imprint of my frame. I quivered, the spunk swelling out my gut to the size of a beach ball now that it was freed, bobbing with a rotund slosh of churning butter. I tried to hold my tongue, though I kept wincing and groaning. 
	Jason pressed his palms to his waist. “That tight ass really, pha... paid off,” he said and caressed his shaft, most of the filth deposited into my rear or drooling from the gaping crater tucked between my cheeks. “Looks like we should wrap this up.” 
	My earpiece sparked up. 
	“Waitmmf…  still… a bit more, I can t-take it,” I huffed out. I turned from my floor stare to face Jason, dressed in a quivering smirk, “I think our… mmm…  I, wanna see my gut sagging with your cum till it kisses the floor.” 
	After I said this, the earpiece faded off with static, instead of issuing further commands. 
	Jason huffed, reaching down to stuff his face in my ass, lapping at my pucker to glue down mouthfuls of his own bowel festering batter. “Great to hear, means I won't have to rub out the second one myself.” 


The thrumming of thighs dancing together echoed through the lavatory. I ground my chest and face into the ceramic flooring, feeling it scraping ever so gently against me in each of Jason's thrusts, the dick burrowing through my broadening hind. Jets of spunk, tainted amber by filth and cock lard, sprouted in arcs from my hind with the slick smears of jerking off seaweed. My insides were screaming, bowels threaded as taut as a drumskin around the piston ploughing my depths. Squeals of reverberant thrusts reached through my nerves and hearing alike, although, the ache was inviting – sipping on scalding, yet delicious tea, though this was the equivalent of dunking it straight from the pot. The serenade of meat colliding blossomed with our groans and moans backing it up, my chest rippling as it squeezed against the tiling below, my mind lost in a vortex of somatic gratification through passionate sodomy. “Gmmffs, phaa, your ass's strangling my cock,” Jason gruffed and bit down on his lip, drawing up his cock so clotted vines and tenets pulled along with it forming to my rear.  There was a moment's pause before he hammered it through, my crotch swelling under the intrusion and shaft throbbing along with Jason's rapid hammering, sweat drooping off my brow as the gratuitous prod pounded my ass raw. The thrusts eased in as the torrid cum was unleashed on my bowels. Spunk flooded my rear, filling it up to the brim and sprouting out in thin ropes, Jason keeping his cock plugged down to keep it in place, feeling the surge of spunk siphoning down my drain and bloating my gut. Clumps of cum swelled out to smoothen across my gut, fading out with the rapid injection, one after another as my ass drank down Jason's spunk, starved for the hot cream it nursed through his beast of a dick. My gut reverberated and creaked like a balloon of latex, dipping down as a sagging orb of cum even through my toned abs, feeling faint against the tidal wave. Burbles of fluids and air pockets forming and vacating back up my rear rustled through my frame and had my pecs buffering the ground with flooring with its jittering jiggles. 
	I sighed in relief, groaning and clasping over my forehead in the throbbing ache jostling in my depths. Once everything was calming down I peered back, my gut laid stuffed and jostling with a smooth slush in waves of cum, my stomach suspended just above the ground. 
	“Phphaa ha.. that is mf, about as much as…” 
	“Oh we are getting this boy grounded…” 
	I peeked back, seeing Jason with his hind bent over my mine, grunting and straining. I followed droplets of paler cock cream drooping down his dick like candle wax, until I caught onto the pillar of raw umber protruding from his rear, the bale of muck matching the girth of his cock and then some. It oozed with rancid vapours from being boiled and forged through his bowels, scintillant and glistening in the air from layers of hot bowel intestinal lubrication. He reeled up, and then slammed his ass into mine. I felt the clap of the cheeks up to my forehead, and a moment after, the tension of the dung cock bored through the sea of cream in my ass, compressed in my aching gape, but prodding and worming downwards, the sludge hauling out of Jason's hatch to crawl down mine. He reeled his rear up, showing the process of the crackling mound playing slimy pops as the defined, buffed ridges clapping against his pucker. The rustling clatter of his pucker warping over the sloughing manure the same as a crotala spinning as it was submerged in molten chocolate. The symphony of smearing muck echoed down my veins and bloated my bowels in his muck, Jason alternating thrusting his ass up and down my bubble butt, between each clap showing how the muck mound snaked out of his rear and sank down my depths, crowing in with the cum to buff out my gut in a tangle of bulges overlapping one another, the mire gradually weighing down my dipping abdomen to squeeze into the ground – with the sound of a two-kilo wheel of solidifying cheese dropped on a countertop. 
	Jason's hot muck slathered my bowels in the clays, the cleansing from earlier overruled by layers of molten manure. His load shoved down, every stretch of my bowels still clotted with the pale white cream plunging further into the chasm of my gut. My stomach strained and ached, his motions echoing in bassy, liquid throbs. I was left hawking and coughing on the floor. My vision clouded, but it disappeared when I blinked. I felt the cum well up under my eyes, the stuffing of liquid lust I had taken for over a week rushing back to me. I cried thick globules of pale white batter, weeping in the straining, but crying out in satisfaction, the tears joining in the residue on the ground, as Jason pumped out his every stretch of backed-up bile straight to my oscillating ass. Our cries revolved around each other in the damp air of the dilapidated lavatory. 


~ 4 ~


The stroke of his tongue crawled over my bridge, soft as the stern of a ship roaming through a calm lake. He wiggled his tongue by my eyes, lapping up the cum tears and grinding his chest into my swollen tits. 
	I laid there, panting, exhausted, a mattress. I was still shuddering with the trembles that coursed through Jason's cock, down the valley of my bloated gut the member was sandwiched by. I ground my face back against him, tongue sweeping up his nostril and suckling out a glob of sweet slime. Jason wouldn't let me finish though, soon our faces were smeared in a new layer of snot, tying us together in a webbing of glistening snot. 
	Jason leaned back. Our pants synchronized. 
	The lavatory was in ruins: stall doors hanging open, cum and grime plastered to the walls and ceiling, residue of lust and life force intermingling in opalescent patterns, and in the centre of the mess, we rested. 


A buzz vibrated through the earbuds. I reached to tap mine, though I heard a smear of jelly when I retracted my finger, the piece coming with. I flicked and brushed it against my cheeks to get it unstuck from the gumming snot, though before I could, Jason tapped his twice. 
	“Says it is getting late.” 
	“Is it?” 
	Jason heaved himself up, scratching his rear and leaving a trail of my cum in his path as he opened the door. Outside, midnight greeted us. The forest was veiled in shadows. 
	“Yeah. That checks out,” I said, wriggling my hair free from stands of spunksnot, and toppling over on my side to wiggle my way up. Jason aided me in standing, supporting me under his shoulder as I took a moment to breathe. After getting a few steps out from the toilets, the lamps inside shut off, and the light of the stars took its place. 
	“You free again soon?” I asked. 
	Jason huffed out a grin. 
	“Say no more, I'll pencil it in my schedule some.” 
	Jason smiled and drew his tongue from my chin, all up my cheek and down to give me a snot-filled smooch. “Do we take my car back, or yours?” He wondered. 
	“I jogged here.” 
	“Heh, rad.”