A Slob's Cooling Point


Written by Septia.


Obi and Eltin's apartment laid quiet in the early hours of morning. With this stillness hung an air of fried fat and sweat, emanating from the pair of craters in the couch; one broad, the other neat. Scattered around the couch were fast food cartons and wrappers, crumpled together or steamrolled flat in the grooves. This trail continued along the floor, through the laundry jungle infested with dust bunnies, till it was but a trail of lingerie into the bedroom. 
	-Bhhfpprmmfbth- A flush of flatulence, the spotted, dampened blanket muffling the rumble to a ripple. 
	“Mmrrf…”
	In the nest of covers the occupants laid huddled: Obi weighing in over Eltin, who in turned clambered her arms around her partner's bulk; and the third, who was the only one exposed to the brunt force of the fumes. 
	-Phhrrpflfbrwwth- The cascade of smog puttered through the quivering cheeks, leaving the smeared, malleable boy rattling with the ham as his gooey form laid plastered over Obi's hind, bathed in the odour of leather distilled vinegar. Droplets of the fog condensing against his skin. Sam felt himself near melting along with the drooping, liquid stench, stuck wondering if they would ever wake up. 
	-Snff- -Fnnfn- Eltin sniffed. “Tubbie, you smell like our kitchen.” 
	“Mmmwf, mmwpa?” Obi mumbled, eyelids fluttering, lingering over Eltin in her embrace. “Oo? I haven't, mfrffm… even had breakfast yet.” -Haaaafwm- -Pfbfbrrth- She yawned, muting another mumble from her ass. 
	“Get outta my bed, hotty,” Eltin purled as she snuggled up tighter, shifting Obi's weight towards the mattress's edge. 
	“Mm, thought this was my bed,” but she shifted along with Eltin's movements like a stream following the path of least resistance. Obi sloughed herself standing, “Hawammfw. Mhfmmm… mmfhu?” Obi mumbled as she sat down. 
	-Schhrrbrlflpfghs- Sam's frame sprawled out under the bulldozing blubber of Obi's buttocks, spreading thin as a tracksuit in a muddled splotch, -Chhsrltsh- draping over salt rich pores and being reminded of the slob's musk. 
	“Rmmf, mm?” Obi mumbled as she scratched her side, noticing her handheld console glued to her gut by way of warmth, sweat, and pressure. -Hrlrlkc- -Ckkrkrths- The screen gradually crinkling free as she itched, and -Sftthwpmpcsh- flopped free in the bed. 
	“Mmf, yeah, mms. First day of the week, workday. Should get ready.” Obi hummed and squeezed her rear back -Shqucwh- and heaved herself out of the bed. 
	Eltin smacked her lips. -Thwhbth- -Bbothts- Peeking up at a thundering rumble nearby. She watched Obi, hopping with synchronized swings. Obi transitioned into other stretches, twisting and bouncing her body so droplets of sweat were made visible between the crevices of fat folds, and a sticky -Shftlpstsh- creaked form her form whenever she swayed her hips. Eltin propped herself up at the end of the bed, first row seat of her babe stretching, with not but locks of grimy blond obscuring her view. 
	“Ssmsf…? Did I wake you up? Sorry.” 
	“Go as hard as you want, ma home girl, I like watching this channel.” Eltin responded with a smirk that reached their eyebrows. 
	“Yooo stop it~.” Obi snickered, then paused to cover another yawn. “Mmf, I have to head out. It is a work day, I should get going.” 
	“Sure it's not tournament day?” Eltin prodded. 
	Obi stopped. “Aah, pretty sure it’s just, a regular workday~.” 
	Eltin waved their console. “Guess you won't be needing this then, tubbie?” 
	Obi bit her lip, and scooched back to pick it up, Eltin stealing a smooh from her as she leaned down. 
	“Thanks you, babe~.” Obi said, turning to give her partner a close view of her rear, showing off, where the splathered patch of off coloured skin putty laid smeared. 
	Eltin hooked a finger around Sam, a… -Shhrrllpfrsgth- and the boy putty prying off Obi's bottom with the crinkle of a lubricated plaster, -Crrrgrrlsh- with Eltin calm and snickering as she peeled him free form the humid haunch. -Srpltprhtwp- The last stretch slopped off Obi's hind was she teetered off, none the wiser. 
	“Pleasure’s all mine, gal. Yoink.” She snickered as Obi headed off to the kitchen, dangling the Sam pancake in front of her. “Think I've earned a day to keep you for myself, bud.” 


~ 1 ~


Eltin slumped back in the basin of tangled covers and depressed mattress padding, flicking off any remaining blanket as she took in deep gulps of air.
	“Heck, Obi's hot, too hot. I'd be cooler sleeping with an oven.” She huffed, and held Sam above, watching how his pliant form dipped down in a tapestry of Sam. She stretched him out… as a soothing cold nudged her fingertips. She weaved her digits in with the folds of boy dough, chills seeping down her hands. 
	“Mmm?” She folded him together, pressing him between her palms -Spflwwusha-, her spine tingling off the cold drawn from the human plaster, -Sqrrsltclrhshrsg- her hands delving into Sam's form, filling her with the frigid taboo of scooping up a fistful of ice cream bare handed. 
	“Oh Ooh yeah, didn't know you were, actually so chill,” she said to the mangle of goo in between her palms. Eltin splayed out her hand palm and watched the beige goo drool in a uniform shroud of dollops from her palm, folding onto her breast. -Chspwptshh- 
	Sam's head shaken up by the manhandling was taken aback by the piquant sting of being over Eltin's chest, as his form -Chsrlrlpths- slopped and sprawled in turgid slough he was smushed into absorbing Eltin's musk. 
	“Mfmf, phaa,” She sighed, leaning back in the sweat crater excuse of a bed. Delighting in the first brush, a refuge from the heat in their foggy sauna of a bedroom.“Ommfs, better idea.” 
	-Sshrrplfptsh- Sam felt her grasp clutch behind him, for another hand -shwrllprths- slathered over her tit, a cupped palm guiding, scoffing him downwards. -Spwllchht- -Shtpsts- splattering against beats of sweat on the way, until he realised he was heading for the main deposit… -Spbrlfpfrjtultj- A splash of sweat flicked from the armpit as Eltin slammed the Sam pulp into place, shivers trialing through her spine as she -Shghths- -Ghlrsst- -Frslths- massaged the glob into place. As the cold patch moulded to the soggy pit. 
	“Ofms, oh yeah that's the ticket bud, heck didn't even realise how much I was steaming…” 
	-Shwplfthts- -Chrhtphtsgs- Sam's whole body kneaded and trawled through the brine infused bog of Eltin's armpit, sweat marred in the essence of pickled sardines. Gushes of liquid body salt channelled out through gaps in his form and the rest slathered over to marinade him in the piercing sharpness of the sewage salt lubricating Eltin's pit. With Obi, he was swimming in a swamp of hot sweat, but this was condensed, matured perspiration, sharp enough to jab and inject him with the bushy brine mines distilled form shrivelled jerky. Suddenly, the grasp eased, but a shadow came rushing down… -Sphgtltpghtursh- Eltin's arm clamped back flat to her armpit, spluttering out trapped bubbles of gas with a greasy -Frblflrspth- from the mass of Sam smushed and pasted out under her arm as a sheet of stained dough. Thrusting forth and casting off droplets of concentrated liquid body odour before being drawn back with an elastic -Sslpbrht-. 
	“Aawfa phaaah, that went down smooth. All the chill of an ice pack with none of the mess,” Eltin mumbled as she -Shfprfllrsht- ground and gyrated her arm in against her side, spwplths- spreading up dunes of clumpy Sam from her pit to droop in droves of molten wax, simmering in the relief his chilled filling daubed into her steaming skin. The grinds and turns of her arm creaking and squelching with the sounds of stirring a pot of bubbling mud. 
	“I could have some fun with this…” 


-Sghhrbn…- -Shrlrlpfhts- -Shghhrngns- -Shrrlstpsth-. Sam twirled to and fro, back and forth, rolled out into Eltin's left pit – after having sufficiently cooled the right. His skin battered into shape against her sweat mire, folding over -Shrhpths- sticky deposits of sweat butter dew congealing in the curls of stubble in his path. With each knead and grope he was clumping together. He grew tensile as more congealed body odour gummed up his form, till she was rolling him into a stodgy bundle. -Shshs- Sam's malformed composition sleekly gliding over the matted pit. 
	-Ghghhrsth- -Shrhrhs- She drew him off and squeezed her digits into his sides. A faint grin flickering on her lips before -Shwhpthsthch- she plunged Sam right against her chest, palms pressuring him to form a print of her digits above her breasts, drawing her arm down between her bosom and hauling Sam along for the ride. -Shprhthsc- -Chirssst- Through the canyon of cleavage the Sam dough funnelled into the bottom, a deep canal clogged with bundled knots of fabric and skin residue conjoining into a gravel encrusted with sweat, scraping and smearing into his frame as the heat of the confined crevice baked the boob grease smearing into him. Gradually the rest of him was folded up, bundled in between the chest and -Hrlrlghshsttwp- squelched together, her cleavage working down on him like an accordion of leaking brine boiled oils. He felt her skin rattle and fleck moisture into him from his touch, as all the heat drained through his form. 
	“You might make a harassed insulator,” Eltin curled and parted, kneading her chest together, clamping it taught over the Sam dough that burgeoned out of her cleavage, before -Frshwrrrwlptwtp- prying her breasts apart for the mess of globby batter to drool out of her grasp in a thick foot wide dollop. She caught the (turgid) moving Sam in her fist and drew it back over her chest with both hands. -Chrlrlrpfffths- Sam stretched and sprawled out to thick fist-wide streaks over Eltin's bust. A thick coat of his pale skin contrasted her tanned features. 'Chfprpshts' her fingers dug into the streaks, drawing out broad hollow gouges in the dough and as she plastered the far reaches inflated to the bredth of her tits, then rolled the bottom of her palms over the flat Sam, moulding him forwards, back and over her nipples. 
	Sam felt the depressions of her teats drawn from his body, leaving deposits in his bulk, little caverns where the nipples had burrowed in to clear off the grime and feminine musk clinging to them in a thick film. Against his body the gel of nipple lard steamed to molten gunk, folded back in and kneaded into his form by Eltins's eager grasp. She smeared and plastered him with cupping motions, encapsulating the bottom of her breasts, massaging and cupping him into shape to her under boobs, huffing and cooing to herself as her sweat lubricated digits plied and sculpted, disciplining his body to shape him into a stardust clinging under her bosom, slowly kneading him further out and shaping his brim to fit the contours of the slender feminine physique. His molten form congealing stuck in the sculpt, as molten cheese coagulating to a gel. 
	“Pffyyoo… Cool as a popsicle, almost a bit too chilly,” she mumbled absent-mindedly. She remained unbothered by the collected, sharp odour burrowing deeper into Sam. Old grime swirled and mixed with the new reeking breast lard, till it melded into his being, and he could not distinguish the raw sewage brine from his own body. 
	-Sttwmcpch- Eltin smacked into her chest, the Sam gunk cratering and forming around the interspace of her fingers as she ground her boobs back into her chest after another few satisfied swats. 
	“Far from sturdy enough for a push-up, but hey, that's life, ain't it?” she sighed to herself, indulging the cooling comfort the smeared Sam provided. Eventually Eltin scrambled out of bed, patting the floor until she found a pair of brahs that seemed like her size. She dusted them off and picked off some cheese curds clinging to them, before strapping them in. -Chrhprshtsh- -Cshpwhqfft- Sam felt the fabric draw in, compacting him into the chest, smothering him back into the clutches of the oil infused garments. Sweat, coffee sump, and pickled dill drowning him, as her bust asphyxiated him in pressure, and cast him taut into the sculpt of Eltin's breasts. 
	“Better be comfy, if I'm gonna hang around today with a barely breathing, mushy scab. Then the least you can dos be a comfcomfy scab.” Eltin strapped in her bra -Shqrpprlsthc- a squelch of moisture coursing through it. The woman let off a long sigh as her chest bumped into position, jostling with an extra film of thick padding as she sauntered off for breakfast. 


~ 2 ~


-Shfpsths- -Crrhsphs- Eltin pulled up her underwear, dripping off a third of their volume onto the table: olive oil, minuscule crumbs, and other pierogi innards soaked the garment. 
	“My sexy slob has to go make a mess of brunch,” she rolled her eyes. -Shhqhs- She wrung out her panties, depositing the majority of the filth they had soaked up, with drogues of queen jam giving the puddle a lustre. -Spthstc- Then strapped on the same panties and quivered at the snap of the humid fabric band. 
	“Should have gotten out the real rag from the start,” she mumbled and wedged a pair of fingers under her bra. -Shrprprcffrlrlsths- peeling off a mangled Sam with a chugging rip from under her bra, flicking him about to clear off some of the hunky perspiration before -Swltpghbrwpfhth- slapping him straight into the puddle. Sam's senses flooding with a melange of flavours, as if being dropped in a bowl of charred grill residue and meironrisch grease, further contrasted and twisted by the sickly sweet patches of jam he barrelled into and clogged up while Eltin scraping it up with his doughy mass. 
	Eltin chugged some yogurt straight out of the carton as she leisurely swabbed and -shcclflprrrfths- smeared Sam across the table. “Phaa, hmm, bother…,” she mumbled and -chhprrfhth- plied him off of the table's surface. Sam globbed droves of the muddled gunk, leaving the table polished to a glistening film of food juices. 
	“Its been near two weeks since that gal's broad dropped you off here, Didn't realise there wouldn’t be much more time to fool around,” she said and peered at the grime soaked flesh towel, “pjhuck. Grin and bear it, least you're not snug up my tubbie's ass, though…” She smirked and drummed her fingers with a moist -Csthpchsptchpsts- against her panties. “That's where I could use some cooling off right now… she said and dangled the Sam-rag over her rear, plucking open her panties, bending forwards to let him see their plush buttocks fill out her ass and cleave apart for the gutter between those buns… -Shpthtsh- She rammed him down, the first stretch of him bending and sliding right into the hold of the crack. 
	The raw, crushing humidity and steaming sweat gave Same the impression of plunging into a pot of crab shells boiling in bog muck. 
	-Sghpphth- The rest of him folding and packed over himself at the precipice of her cheeks, sloughing over the brim of her panties. 
	“Mmf fmms,” she huffed, swinging upright as she scoffed her hands down to -Csshrprllrfpfsthsg- compress the globby folds of duning Sam into the tight channel. -Sqprhhhshts- the smearing of displaced swamp-ass juice bubbling and pocketing along the bubbles of air trapped in his doubled wrinkles, -Sppflpthryrhsths- giving off the grimy popping of cramming a bouquet of sausage back into the can. Obi's stench was a mellow ocean of sweat, Eltin's was like getting dunked in a tub of bacon-scented bath salts. 
	-Shtpccwthp- she snapped the brim back over him, and fondled her digits firmly in her buns, kneading and massaging her hands over her ass to -Chwphtvsj- ply and mould the batch of grime soaked Sam gunk. “Pha… Omfmfs, ooo that's sappin the hell out of my ass crack’s heat…, wonder iffms, it'd feel as good shoving a popsicle down there or if he just got talent,” she mused and poked into the -Spwths- muddled pudge of Sam smeared behind her underwear. “Feel like chilly today,” she contemplated, swaying her cheeks with every step to hear the -Squlrlschtch- -Spghsl- smushing and draw of the clumpy towel of a man jammed in her ass. 


~ 3 ~


 -Ghrbrgllghtsts. The reverberations echoed through several of his senses, Sam feeling his frame rattling at the grumbles as it displaced muck and gasses in the deeper, behind that winking pucker. -Bghrhsgjs- the next rumble came sooner than the last, and then the cheeks begun to quiver… -Bbbwrrfffwrrrppwtht- a Gale of thick, moulding dairy slathered in sardine stench blossomed form the smog chute ahead, rolling in the bubbles of gas infused with liquids under his skin, through this frame and filtering out their heat as smokestacks in their wave. -Fbbrprfrrrpth- another gust mushed churns of him out of the crack -Shspahshthata- and smearing back into the back of the panties, a heated bout of smog reeking of torched chilli pepper and rubber marinaded cumin, the stinging odour prickling all across him and Sam's skin boiled in the fermented echoes of ghastly spiced trash food, wasting away in the dusky clutches… -Schhthngsh- only to feel the pressure behind rile up and smear him back, sloshing into the soggy ass ditch. 
	-Shfhppthhtsfhsghst- -Snsntpach-” Mmgs,” Eltin huffed after giving herself a wedgie, scratching at her ass at the slick mush of -Shphcfbrlsthsh- fart oil and Sam smothered panties. “Bmfms, Back in my crack,” she mumbled, gyrating her hips to smush him in deep, jutting out her butt high into the air as she reclined her head against her crossed arms, transfixed on the soap operas on her mobile. Eltin scooched up and reclaimed the gradually voiding spicy value-bowl, tearing off scraps of cornbread to scrape up hunks of chilly and leftovers to stuff against her maw -hsrrpltpsh-. While some would say she was the more active of the pit, Eltin had a lot in common with her partner. 
	-Wsauuqrlltpghs- Sam let his body droop into the cleft, bathed in the huffs of smog from the pucker, -Bbwrrffflprrthw- a bellow of gaseous grime thrust his body back, but it drained into the crack once more, despite wading through the torrents of pungent pepper puffs marring his body with its sweltering heat. The longer he spent in this state, the less coherent his body felt, drooping and sloshing on its own, draining towards that gaping sewage hatch…
	“Prffahah,” Eltin snickered to herself, revolving herself to be seated back against the wall, knees scooped in to prop up her phone. “That rodent's a riot,” she mumbled and wedged her cheeks down into the matress -Squrrlfpshs- -Chwprruhhs-. 
	With her gutter unleashing a rippling -Ghrllprhghgs- gurgle of mimicking a beehive submerged in tar. -Bbrwrwprlprltgtppwth…- 
	-Frrrwweptlthtsht- The cascade of bowel pollution streamed over Sam's form, lapping his sludgy form from her crack to plaster against her panties. He was sweating chilli fat, roasting his pores in the bombardment of her stench. -Shrprlstsh- But he noticed, that his body stretched out further, undulating under the colon storms, and stretching further around her buns, thinning and boiling in the torrid zest…Density mellowing, liquefying under the heat… -Squrllsfsh- A squall of fabric… her rump grinding into him, packing him into a pressurized sauna, the hunky tush milling back into the tarnished underwear… -Sfflrlrstsh- which soon was unable to hold him… -Shrflths- Sam's frame quivered as the fabric smeared into him, giving way for his body as the carved lingerie siphoned his body… The limited autonomy he had sealed away in grease and lust tarnished panties. -Shwrpthsts -PPFfrrrrwptbth- another burst of spiced smog, soaking him in a haze of pickled paprika and tequila, mediating his gradual melting into the slob of a womans's panties. The pressure of being sandwiched against her cheeks and the fabric was gradually easing, in its place came the intimate relation with the stains sharing rent with him, and the tensile grind of stretching along the outlines of he curvature… Sam only basked with further bouts -Sfpfprrhts- of redolent tart emissions, as the panties absorbed him and everything he was, to a stain caking an unkempt ass. 


~ 4 ~


Eltin stretched, yawning and wiping up some residue of chilli on her finger, smearing it on as a lipstick she greedily lapped up. “Feel that today rocked,” she mumbled and scooched her cheeks. -Spffrt- a faint flutter of aromatic smog filtering through her moist bum. “Get nice an ready, big gal'll be back from her 'work,” She mused and wedged her palm against her cheeks. Then her eyebrows raised, mouth shrinking. She fiddled around back there, only feeling her ass. 
	“Bud?” she mumbled and stood up, prying it back and stood peering into the empty pair. “How in the hell did… “ Then she noticed. “Cheeky ass.” 


Eltin held up stretched out the panties in front of her, staring at the splotch of dusky beige morphed into the fabric, prodding at the Sam-smear. “You've really done it now, can't quite, wringy you out…,” she mumbled and crumpled the panties together, only making the bundle drool some fatty dew. -Shsprprshths-. “Drier'd get you out though. Oooh, laundry day was yesterday though, sorry bud. Better get comfy, can't scramble you out of there till Sunday.” Then Eltin dramatically clasped her cheek. “But brat and chubby were coming to pick you up tuesday, what a shame,” she dangled him about on her finger, “guess you'll have to tag along with us for another week.”
	Sam could, taste her grin. Were it not for the week old grime of junk food and drying body odour smothering his senses. 
	The door to the bedroom flung open, Obi standing at the threshold panting. “Hey, babe? I c-can't find Sam, you know? The panties I got? Miranda's coming with a replacement tomorrow.” 
	Eltin turned to her with a smile. “Right here, tubbie. Said he wanted to stick around then got a bit too attached ta my undies, said he doesn't mind you wearing him till laundry day.” 
	Obi shone up. “Another week? Oo my, didn't know think he enjoyed my butt quite that much~.” Obi said with the tone of a songbird, rubbing her yoga-pant covered rump -Shwprhsts- which squelched like a sponge. 
	Eltin peered back to the Sam-ties. “Who wouldn't?”