Phagster

He glances over and notices Keith trying to quickly walk away from the situation. Shiro looks down and sees the light blue fabric sticking out from Keith’s lower back. Shiro grabs the exposed fabric and forcefully pulls upward.

“What’s going on?” Shiro yells angrily. “Is this really the childish thing you two do?”

Shiro pulls the fabric higher before yanking Keith back toward the training room. He walks into the training room with Keith in front of him. Keith manages to walk on his tiptoes as his underwear continues to ride up his back.

Shiro tosses Keith onto the floor next to Lance, who has by now managed to remove his panties from his face.

“What is going on here?” “KEITH GAVE ME A WEDGIE!” Lance shouts. Keith shoots daggers at Lance “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT!” “YOU GAVE ME AN ATOMIC WEDGIE!” “THAT’S BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO GIVE ME ONE!” Shiro, visibly irritated, yells, “ENOUGH!” Keith and Lance both look up at Shiro. “I don’t care who started it or who did what. All I know is that this is unacceptable! We’re a team, and we need to start acting like one. We don’t need any of this, am I clear?!” “Yes, sir,” Lance and Keith both reply begrudgingly. “Good,” Shiro says.

He offers his hands to each of them to help them up. They grab hold of Shiro’s hands and pull themselves to their feet. They hug Shiro.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Keith says. “Yeah, it won’t happen again,” Lance adds. “It’s alright. I’m glad this won’t happen again.”

Shiro wraps his arms around the two and embraces them. Keith and Lance look at each other while still hugging Shiro. They smile at each other as they begin rubbing Shiro’s toned, muscular body.

Lance glances down and sees a sliver of white fabric making its way out from Shiro’s pants. He looks at Keith and draws his attention to the exposed waistband.

They nod in agreement and slowly run their hands down Shiro’s back, making their way toward the waistband. They each grab hold of it and smirk at each other.

“Now!” they both yell. They begin pulling hard on Shiro’s exposed waistband. Shiro lets out a sharp grunt as he begins to feel his underwear being pulled upward.

“Aghh! What are you doing?!” Shiro exclaims. “Tighty whities? Really, Shiro?” Keith asks. “I’m a little surprised, but you were basically asking for it,” Lance adds. “L-Let go!” “What do you think, Keith? Should we let him go?” “Alright, you guys are asking for it!” Shiro shouts.

Shiro reaches down and grabs Keith’s leg holes in one hand and Lance’s panties in the other before violently pulling upward, lifting them off the ground. Shiro kept his grip firm, bouncing the two paladins as they barely touch the ground.

“Aghh! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Keith shouts. Lance squeals in pain "No, please! C-Come on, it’s already stretched out!”

Shiro begins walking forward, bouncing the two with each step and digging their wedgies deeper and deeper. Lance and Keith try to wiggle their way out but only make the wedgies tighter.

Keith manages to knee Shiro in the abdomen, causing him to fall over, releasing the two boys from his clutches. Keith grabs Shiro’s tighty whities and yanks them up his back as far as he can.Lance joins in and pulls the tighty whities even farther.

“Ahhh, come on, guys! Knock it off!” Shiro yells. “What do you say, Keith? Wanna show him some teamwork?” Lance asks. “I think that would be a great idea, Lance,” Keith replies.

They make their way behind a crawling Shiro and begin pulling as hard as they can. They manage to pull Shiro back to his feet.

They adjust their grips and begin pulling with even more force, lifting Shiro into the air. They bounce him like a yo-yo before placing him back on the ground.

Lance walks in front of Shiro and puts him in a headlock, holding him while Keith continues pulling Shiro’s tighty whities upward. “Guys, please stop! It hurts so bad!” Shiro pleads. “You did say you wanted us to work as a team,” Lance says. “We’re doing what you asked,” Keith adds.

Lance places Shiro’s head between his legs and gives him a piledriver wedgie. Lance pulls hard enough to lift Shiro’s feet off the floor.

Keith, seeing this, decides to hold Shiro’s legs down so Lance can deepen the wedgie.

Keith looks up at Lance and notices two hooks on the wall.

“Should we make THIS atomic?” Lance asks. “No. I got a better idea,” Keith says.

Keith thrusts his hips into Shiro’s backside, rubbing against his tight, firm ass, causing Lance to walk backward. They guide Shiro toward the wall, and Lance makes his way behind him.

“Guys? What are you doing?” Shiro asks in a shaky voice. “We’re working together,” Lance says. Shiro looks up and sees the hooks. “Guys, wait, please just--” Shiro is interrupted as the two Paladins lift him off the floor by his tighty whities. “Ahh! You don’t have to do this!” Shiro exclaims.

They ignore his pleas and grab Shiro by the leg holes, lifting him into the air. They turn him around and place each leg hole onto one of the hooks.

“Come on, guys, you can’t do this! Ow, this hurts so much! Please let me down!” Shiro cries out. Lance steps back and admires their work. “Hope you have a good time hanging around, Shiro,” Lance says. “Have fun, Shiro. The room is all yours,” Keith says.

Santi couldn’t stop adjusting the straps of his overalls. The overworked buckles dug into his shoulders as he stood behind his new library assistant, Antoine, at the information desk. He winced as he settled one hand on the counter and used the other to guide Antoine through the inventory management system on the desktop.

“You okay?” asked Antoine, gazing up at Santi’s looming frame with a look of concern.

“Yeah,” Santi replied. “I just, ugh, should’ve second guessed these overalls.” 

Really, he had thrown them on this morning because Devin said they made him look hip, but soon after they parted ways, any feeling of being stylish was quickly outweighed by the unrelenting strain of the straps against his back. His double wide bubble butt was more than a match for the denim garment, the hefty orbs distending the fabric and making every movement a nuisance. But Devon loves them, he reminded himself.

“Nah,” his new assistant scoffed. “They look cute.”

“Thanks,” Santi muttered, reluctantly accepting the compliment. “Pull up the backup spreadsheet real quick, I want to make sure you’ve–oh what now…”

Santi’s phone lit up, the screen displaying “Leo (Dev Roommate)” with an incoming call.

Why’s Leo calling? Santi wondered. His beau’s roommate always gave the sense that he barely tolerated Santi’s presence, politely making himself scarce whenever Santi and Devon were shuffling around the kitchen or canoodling on the couch. He was surprised he even had his number, let alone felt compelled to cold call in the middle of the day. “Lemme take this real quick, why don’t you review the inventory backup SOP before we walk through it.”

“For the third time today, yessir,” Antoine chuckled with a lazy salute. As he re-familiarized himself with the spreadsheet sprawled across his screen, he let his eyes surreptitiously follow Santi in the reflection. He was mesmerized by the jiggling globes cradled in the modified seat of his overalls, wobbling back and forth as he squeezed out of the information desk and strolled back toward the stacks. My friends are gonna be so jealous, he thought. He couldn’t wait to brag about how his new boss was one of the ‘hyper assed’ guys around town that he and his buds shared posts about in their group chat. He was surprised he had even made it this far through orientation between Santi’s beautiful spheres and his brooding, handsome face. A visage, he noticed, that was looking increasingly concerned as his phone call progressed.

“Whoa okay, slow down,” Santi said, trying to keep his voice low though his tone was spiked by worry. “What happened with Devon? He what? What do you mean…pushed you out of a window, are you okay? Where is he now? Wait, you mean he–oh. Oh no…” Santi shot a worried glance back toward the desk, catching Antoine’s eyes in the computer screen before he dutifully refocused on the untouched spreadsheet in front of him.

“Everything all right?” Antoine asked as Santi lumbered back over. His boss seemed out of character, his hands wringing around his phone as his face twitched in thought.

“I, um, might need to run and deal with a…just a minor emergency. Can you hold things down here for the afternoon? It should be a slow day and you're already trained on the basics. We can keep working on inventory management when I get back, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Antoine was not at all confident in his ability to run the info desk on his first day on the job, but judging by the look on Santi’s face, the emergency was more than minor. 

“Great,” said Santi with an attempt at an encouraging smile. He grabbed his backpack and turned to leave. “You have my number if anything goes wrong, I’ll be back ASAP!”

“Gotcha,” Antoined muttered with another lazy salute as Santi power walked to the exit, the motion of his cheeks threatening to knock over the display shelves.

I’ll just run and check on him, Santi thought as he loped down the stairs into the subway station, muttering half-hearted apologies to the people squeezed against the railing or the wall as he pushed through the crowd of foot traffic. They probably had another roommate spat and both got riled up, now Devon is having some anxiety attack and just needs to calm down. But why did Leo call? And why did he sound so upset?

Santi mulled over this as a smiling metro attendant re-directed him toward the new gate at the end of the station. He barely noticed the automatic doors sliding open for him to proceed, only found mild relief in the fact that he didn’t have to shuffle and squeeze through these.

He’s always so worried, he thought. Especially with everything that’s going on. The train approached and a pair of expansive, curved doors of a shiny new car opened right in front of him. This has gotta be the third time this week he was scared he was about to pop again, he reminded himself with a slight smile.

As he boarded, he prepared for another slew of apologies and excuses amidst a jostle for space. But he found a spot with ease and let his hand rest in one of the ceiling hooks. It’s usually a lot busier this time of day, he mused, letting himself relax just slightly. Not that I’m complaining.

Other than the pleasant surprise of room to breathe, he couldn’t help but feel that something seemed off in that shiny new car. The other occupants had settled into a typical affective neutrality, puttering on phones or tablets, reading books, or chatting with friends. The vibes felt relaxed, interrupted only by an errant stare in his direction that was quickly redirected to the wall behind him. But that he was more than used to. 

As they pulled into the next station, something clicked. The train slid to a stop, the doors opened, and the gaggle of people waiting to board each flashed an indecipherable look across their faces, then awkwardly turned and strolled to enter the next car down. Santi wondered why they insisted on moving down to squeeze into the overly packed crowd one car down. At the next stop it happened again, except for a lone passenger who entered his and found an open spot near the doors, their massive glutes settling comfortably into the generous, bowl shaped seats.

This must be the new subway car they threw together. He smiled, swiveling his head to find that most of the occupants of this car had been visibly afflicted with severe cases of the virus. In fact, the only people with normal proportions were tagging along with an acquaintance whose cheeks, like his, were obviously too overinflated to fit comfortably in normal seating. The mayor's office moves quick in a crisis.

He’d heard about the super wide safety doors and extra spacious interior, but didn’t realize there was also a diversity of generously curvy seating options for people with his generously curvy form. Santi’s eyes drifted to the sign above the door of a masculine silhouette one might see above a men's room, albeit with two circles ballooning around the midsection, then down to the passenger across from him whose orbs could also clearly be seen from the front, jiggling uncontrollably with the jittering motion of the train. Even the ads along the ceiling were targeted, from nuBum’s officewear line to a home and office retrofitting service from some contractor named Calvin to, he realized looking over his shoulder, a city government ad featuring himself. He glanced at his smiling face at the info desk of the library, handing someone a brochure about municipal services for men afflicted with severe cases of MGHD. Oh. I forgot about that.

His shoulders relaxed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this kind of relief in public. He wasn’t fighting for space or apologizing for accidentally smothering someone in their seat or ignoring open stares and poorly hidden phone cameras. He was simply on the train. 

Devon’ll get a kick out of this, he thought, loosening the straps of his overalls.

—

Leo looked a mess. He sounded pretty frazzled over the phone, but Santi wasn't expecting the bent glasses, disheveled hair, or large bruises hiding under a tear in his shirt that stretched across the back. He huffed up the stairs to their apartment with a noticeable limp, looking like he really did just fall out of a window.

“Santi's here!” Leo called through the front door as they entered.

“I told you, you didn't have to call him,” came a response that was Devon's perpetually anxious tone with a much deeper bass underneath. “It's not urgent.”

“It’s definitely urgent,” Leo hissed.

The first thing Santi noticed were the shorts Devon had borrowed that morning. Strewn in tatters on the floor, he wasn't even sure they were in a single piece anymore. They looked like they hadn't so much ripped but exploded. 

“Sorry about those,” Devon sighed. “And…this.”

It was hard to imagine that those shorts, comically huge as they were, had fit comfortably on the form crouched before him just that morning. In the back of his mind, Santi had been wondering about the oddly placed wall disrupting the living room, yet as his fingers fiddled with the torn and frayed fabric, his brain pieced together that the massive blobject blocking the hallway was actually one of Devon's ass cheeks. The gargantuan dump truck behind him was many times more massive than the oversized bubble Santi had woken up next to that morning. And the rest of him seemed to have followed suit. 

“I'm just…glad you're okay,” Santi said, approaching Devon’s enlarged form slowly. He dropped the shorts, noting that they had been replaced with one of Devon’s bedsheets. They were wrapped messily around his groin, forming little more than a thong tied in the back and doing nothing to downplay the monstrous appendage resting between his legs. “I don’t think anyone’s ever reacted like this when I asked them to move in with me,” he added, his eyes incredulous.

“You’re moving in with Santi?” Leo asked from the other side of the room, looking too anxious to come anywhere near his giant roommate. “Since when?”

“It’s…under consideration,” Devon said, his fancied buried in his hands, exasperation settling into a rumbling baritone as he drew out the last syllable.

“Offer’s still open,” Santi winked. “For what it’s worth.”

“You know how to deal with this, right?” Leo asked with a pleading look in Santi’s direction. “Like, you can call someone?”

“I, um, can try and figure something out…” Santi had picked up some useful info through his work with the mayor’s public health outreach team. He knew that when someone had a rapid expansion event, the surge of hormones could cause unpredictable growth beyond just their glutes, but he didn’t think it could be this extreme. He mentally flipped through the options he was aware of and kept coming up blank. “Why don't you walk me through what happened?”

“Take a wild guess,” Devon sighed. He lumbered to his feet and shuffled further into the living room, his shoulders hunched against the ceiling. He muttered a grunt of frustration as one of his giant wobblers knocked over the TV stand.

“Dude, watch it!” Leo exclaimed. “The TV's mine. And the…couch…”

The sofa disappeared under Devon’s bulk, the sounds of furniture cracking filling the room as he settled down into a more comfortable position.

“Whatever,” said Leo. “The whole security deposit's fucked anyways.”

“I think we have bigger problems than the security deposit,” Devon rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I was almost smothered by those bigger problems before they pushed me out of a fucking window earlier.”

“And I wonder whose fault that was.”

“You were already starting to Hulk out before you used the patch!” 

“The patch?” Santi interjected. “You went to the clinic?”

“I was going to go to the clinic,” said Devon. “But this one wanted me to use his own illicit substances.”

“It was the best idea we had at the time.” Leo crossed his arms defensively, avoiding Santi’s questioning gaze. “For all we know it could've been worse.”

“So I should be thanking you?” Devon snapped. “You're fucking…ridiculous…” His breathing slowed, face scrunched in concentration as if he was trying to will himself to stay together.

“How many times did I tell you to get treatment before some crazy shit popped off?” Leo’s voice cracked. “And now look–” 

“Hey!” Santi held up his sternest librarian finger to shush Leo before he added more grease to the fire, while using his other hand to gently massage the scruff under Devon's chin. “You both need to calm down, okay? Devon, your hormonal system is still probably in complete chaos and if you get too stressed it might trigger another…event.”

Devon looked down at the bulging vascularity of his forearms, before his worried eyes connected with Santi's. His breathing grew heavy as he tried to refocus. He shuddered as a wave of residual growth produced another melody of splintering from the sofa being crushed by his cheeks.

“...Fine,” said Leo. His need to win an argument lost out to his fear of being crushed by those cheeks again. “Fine. Fine.” He suddenly seemed to notice the tattered, dirty clothes he was still wearing and the residual bruising across his body. “I need to go take care of this,” he muttered, disappearing in the direction of his room.

“You're always so smart,” Devon said, crushing Santi in a bear hug and digging his face into his neck.

Santi marveled at how even Devon's head was bigger as he re-acquainted himself with Devon's plump, enlarged lips. Yet the contours of his sweet face were the same. His smell, his nervous smile, the twitch of his eyelid, all familiar. He cradled Devon’s face in his hands as they made out, losing track of time in his deep musk and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He had always feared something like this would happen–they both had–and he didn’t exactly have a coherent plan of action, but he was with Devon and he would stay with him until they got it all figured out. And that offer to move in together was very much still on the table, present complications included.

“Don't mean to interrupt,” said Leo, strolling back in wearing something more casual and less just-fell-out-of-a-window. “But we do need to come up with some ideas for how to handle this…situation...”

He was at a loss for words as Santi turned around, less concerned with the apologetic smile on his face as the pipe wrapping around his hip. Leo had always politely ignored Santa’s prodigious bulge, but had never encountered the ruler breaking piece at full mast. Even under multiple layers of fabric, the throbbing trouser snake was making itself known.

While Santi usually wore work outfits that downplayed his overendowment as much as possible, the overalls unfortunately had the opposite effect. He was well aware that even his sizable hands were woefully insufficient to cover the meat he was packing, and even more aware that if he moved into a different position he might reveal the real monster that was straining Devon's makeshift bed sheet thong to the limit and starting to nestle itself in the underside of Santi's ass.

Devon loves these, Santi thought wryly as his dick lurched further, stretching against the already fatigued fabric.

“Well,” began Santi, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to get a break from Leo so everyone could cool down, “we need to get him out of here and transportation's going to take some planning. We'll need a trailer or a large moving truck. At least fifteen feet.”

“Hmm,” said Leo, glad to have a task that wasn't outright panic. “I can get on that.”

“If you can go get anything available immediately, that would be great. For the sanctity of your…security deposit.”

“Okay!” 

Leo looked more than eager to grab his keys and vacate the premises for a time. As the door clicked shut behind him, Devon's dick picked up its insistent pressure against Santi's backside, the staccato pops of seams separating interspersed with Devon's frustrated huffs as he settled his hands on Santi's double wide hips. His dick felt impossibly huge, a log of thermonuclear heat pulsing stronger as his hands covered more of Santi’s torso with every shudder and groan.

“Wait,” said Santi, snapping to attention. “We should calm your system before you get too excited. Maybe  a cold shower?”

Devon only laughed, a low chuckle emanating from his plump lips as they nuzzled into the back of Santi’s neck. The creak of the floorboards served as a reminder that the bathroom had been recently destroyed by Devon’s mighty cheeks. Not to mention that it would take a polar vortex to calm the monstrous appendage extending from Devon’s crotch and filling more and more of the space between Santi’s legs.

This thing could lift me off the ground, Santi thought, terrified. He had to do something before Devon had another surge of growth and caused serious infrastructural damage. Yet he seemed too far gone with whatever hormonal overload of supercharged horniness was pumping through him. Maybe, if he could relieve the pressure, they could get their heads on straight and come up with a real solution while Leo was conveniently out of the picture. Okay. Plan B.

Santi turned around and locked lips with Devon, who reciprocated the energy tenfold. As Devon’s hands began fondling Santi’s juicy buns in earnest, Santi fumbled with one of the buckles of his overalls, looking forward to being rid of the acute pressure digging into his shoulders. What he was hoping would be a quick, sexy disrobing dragged on as he continued making out with Devon, the metal warped from stress and refusing to budge. 

“Hold on,” he muttered against the force of Devon’s hungry tongue. “Let me just–”

“No, let me.” Devon reluctantly let his hands leave the generous curve of Santi’s hips so he could slide his thumb and forefingers along the thin straps. He took his time, letting his fingers caress Santi’s torso before ripping the straps off in one quick motion.

“I thought you liked these,” Santi breathed. He shuddered at Devon’s touch. Though suddenly massive, those hands still knew the tender spots and erogenous pressure points along the back of Santi’s neck and shoulders. It had been a long time since Santi had felt like the smaller one in any situation, and he found himself yearning to fall into Devon’s huge mitts.

“I do,” Devon growled, his voice tempered by the unrelenting pressure of barely contained lust. “But you’re cuter without them.”

Santi found himself being spun around like a toy as Devon began to sensuously peel off the denim overalls. The slow movements of his thick fingers along Santi’s back grew frustrated as the fabric resisted moving easily over the circumference of his ass. The heat of Devon’s breath across his shoulders and the warmth of his lips on his neck drew a stark contrast to the sudden cool burst of exposure along his posterior chain. He didn’t sense that he would miss the garment that was now in tatters on the floor.

“I, uh, sorry,” stammered Devon through a horny haze. “I wasn’t trying to–”

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” Santi interrupted. He bent over, his massive cakes jutting towards Devon’s face, jiggling uncontrollably as he worked up the momentum to give them a shake. He wasn’t usually this brazen. He was usually the one nuzzling into Devon’s fat cheeks and insatiable hole, but he didn’t know if he would survive the experience of topping his giant boyfriend’s giant clappers. Things had changed and he was on a mission.

“Fuck…” Devon groaned at the sight before him as well as the unbearable pressure building from the cum factories that had grown large enough to languish on the floor. He slapped Santi’s ass with enough force to produce a thunderclap of sound that shook the apartment. 

Santi was falling into a frenzy. It had been far too long since anyone had been able to truly handle his voluptuous backside, let alone palm them with ease. With each CRACK of Devon’s monstrous hands against his cheeks, he grew uncaring of the windows rattling or the neighbors who must be assuming they were under attack. His eyes rolled back in his head as Devon’s paws gingerly separated his oversized glutes so his powerful and prodigious tongue could explore his hole. He got smug satisfaction out of the realization that his ass could still smother his beau’s enlarged head, his muffled groans reverberating through his cheeks as his hands hungrily kneaded the sides.

Santi’s knees buckled and he found himself straddling either side of Devon’s mammoth cock, face to face with a drooling mushroom head that eclipsed his face. He began lapping up the gushing stream of precum, then leaned down to start making out with his lover’s piss slit. His head was slowly covered in the neverending supply of sticky ooze. As Devon’s groans of pleasure between his cheeks interspersed with full body shudders, his dick felt more expansive with each heartbeat. A loud cracking sound behind them brought Santi back into focus, as he realized Devon’s cheeks must have crushed the couch beyond repair. He had to prevent another expansion event before the rest of the building followed suit.

“Are you close?” Santi asked, answered by an unintelligible mumble.

“I…need…” Devon’s voice was deep and guttural as he came up for air. Santi turned to see his face slick with sweat, his chest heaving with slow, controlled breaths. For a second, he looked like spoken language had eluded him, his eyes searching Santi’s for the right string of words, as if his librarian boyfriend might provide them via telepathy. “I need you to fuck me.”

Santi paused in consideration, loosely wondering if his life’s affairs were in order. He sighed and planted a wet, salty kiss on Devon’s luscious lips. The things I do for love. 

Pieces of Leo’s couch fell from Devon’s monumental globes as he repositioned. Santi was doing some kind of mental sex geometry as he came up with a plan of action for the planetoids hovering before him. They were still those perfect, juicy orbs Santi loved so much, just blown up impossibly larger. They filled Santi’s field of vision, jiggling and shaking with each minute movement as Devon managed to present his hungry hole to the now smaller man. 

Santi was acutely aware that his entire torso could get trapped in there if he wasn’t careful. He stood with trepidation, taking in Devon’s immense form. Before he could even begin to reconsider, he felt that familiar magnetic tug of Devon’s glorious cakes, only magnified by what felt like a hundred fold. His dick pulsed angrily, rising to attention fast enough to tickle his chin and leave a kiss of his own gooey precum. He glanced down with a flash of worry at his own apparently growing problem, yet his feet seemed to move forward of their own volition, his cock falling into position against his partner’s eager hole. 

Devon cooed as Santi slid in with ease. After a few tentative strokes, the muscles of his enlarged ass seemed to take on a mind of their own, pulling Santi back and forth with their own rhythm like he was a glorified sex toy. Santi fell into Devon’s expansive cheeks, head and shoulders disappearing between the spheres of ass as his hands searched for purchase along the jiggling globes. Eventually, he managed to get his bearings, mobilizing his powerful glutes to thrust all the way into his partner, eliciting a roar of pleasure. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back in the past, afraid of being too forceful with his oversized equipment. Now he no longer needed to, and reveled in Devon’s earth shattering groans as he pounded with full force.

With each tremor of delight, Santi could feel Devon’s gigantic glutes slowly expanding, as if the building orgasmic pressure was too much to contain. He kept expecting to get pushed out by the gelatinous mass, but Devon’s grip was supernaturally strong. He could feel the oddly dexterous muscles massaging him like he was being stroked from the inside, leaving a tingling sensation along his shaft that intensified with each thrust. Even though his heavy balls were knocking against Devon’s taint, he could feel himself going deeper, pushing his walls outward a little more, his rock hard dick feeling more and more hefty to satisfy his growing lover. Devon was in a trance, howling with pleasure as his unbelievable ass dwarfed Santi’s entire body, sending Santi into overdrive in his efforts to prevent a catastrophe in the cozy apartment.

“I…I’m…gonna…” Devon moaned, but Santi already knew the signs of his partner’s rapidly approaching orgasm. Devon’s massive, pendulous balls hitched up off the ground as he struggled to wrap one massive hand around his growing shaft. 

Devon’s ass was basically all Santi could perceive, but beyond the creak of the floorboards, rain of plaster, and decorations falling from the walls, he heard what sounded like the slow squeal of the front door opening.

“L…Leo?” came Devon’s husky voice.