Male Stench

Here I was, on my knees, underneath a desk setting up a computer in the new Sargent's office. Nothing abnormal, until I felt a hand slap my ass and give a squeeze.

I audibly yelp and immediately turn to see Officer Vanover giving me a shit eating grin. "Whoa man, I don't know you like that." I eventually get out and he laughs in response.

"Not yet." He gives me a wink.

Officer Vanover is an attractive guy and all, but there is a small problem: As far as I'm aware, he's a married man. When I Facebook stalked him, there were clearly tons of photos with him and his wife, ranging from their wedding to vacation photos. So, this was more of a hazing thing more likely than a sexual thing, I decide.

Now, here's my problem. Officer Vanover is hot. I hate to admit that, but it's true. At minimum he's 6 foot 1, has an ass that won't quit, fit as hell and his face card and ginger beard are to die for. And his uniform pants hug his ass so tight that you can see the lines of his boxer briefs. It's so fucking erotic and half the times I'm around him, I have to rush to get away before I do something I regret. Thoughts of him throwing my 5 foot 5 self around plague my mind way too much when I'm around him.

My interactions with Officer Vanover started the first week I started in February.

February 12 -

When I start messing with the printer, he came over and just stood next to my left. Not say anything at first, just hovered. It's odd, but not necessarily anything new. After a few minutes of not finding anything wrong with the printer, I finally say "Do you know what's wrong with the printer? It looks fine to me."

He gives me an expression that he's thinking, but shakes his head no. I sigh and get ready to go to the Police Lieutenant to see if he can tell me what exactly the issue is when Officer Vanover hikes his right leg up and rips ass directly at me. "Oops." He says with that shit-eating grin. It's gross, but it doesn't smell like anything.

"Get outta here man." Half-laughing as I plug my nose. He keeps laughing, but he does go back to one of the Patrol Desks. I keep working away, Officer Vanover keeps farting and eventually Officer Hanford shows up.

"Jeezus it reeks. Brandon, what the fuck are you eating."

"How you know it's me. Could be the IT guy."

"Hey!" I yell from the other room.

"Because it always stinks when you're here." Officer Hanford groans before taking another desk.

I step out into the room to say something, but Officer Vanover is straining his face when a loud fart rings out in the Patrol Room.

"Fuck this, I'm working in my car." Officer Hanford gets up almost as quickly as he sat down. "Sorry new guy." He says to me as he leaves.

Officer Vanover gives me a wink, and another ringing fart before I go back to the printer.

Another 15 minutes of his farting and getting no where on the printer before I determine there's nothing wrong and printing is working fine. I say my goodbyes to Officer Vanover and let the Lieutenant know that the printer is working. I found out from him that Officer Vanover was the one who reported the issue though. I found it strange he reported the issue but didn't tell me that when I was working on it.

February 16 -

I get called down to the Patrol Room again, and once again, just Officer Vanover. He gives me a smile, I ignore the way that it makes my heart beat quicken. This time there is an issue on his computer. "Officer Vanover, we need to stop meeting like this." I try to joke, and he laughs, but there's a feeling in my gut that this isn't going a normal interaction.

"You can call me Brandon." He shows me the issue and it leads me to having to go under his desk to mess with the cabling. As I'm trying to make sense of the cabling, I see him scoot his chair in and block me under the desk.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" I say as his legs force me against the cubicle wall. It's still workable, just uncomfortable.

"Just keep working and I'll keep working on my document." His keyboard does start to clack.

"Why don't you use a different desk. There's not enough-" I was beginning to argue when he man spreads. And there's his bulge, right there where I can admire it. "Actually, I think I can work like this."

"What I thought fag." That's what I thought he said, but that couldn't be right. I didn't press him about that.

I found the issue with the cables pretty quickly as well. It was clear that someone, most likely Officer Vanover, er Brandon, had pulled the ethernet cable. I plugged it back in, but I didn't say anything yet, as I was still admiring his bulge. Actually it was more than just a bulge, he had a fucking hard on now. His fat (holy fucking shit) cock was straining and he put he grabbed it and shook it.

"Oh my god. Are you-" And before I can finish, he grabs my head and pulls it hard against the seat of his chair and his ass.

PBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

A loud fart echos from Brandon's seat and I'm forced to inhale his gas. And this time, it stunk bad. I start coughing and gagging "Fuck! Let go!"

PBRBRBRBR PRBBFBFBFBRBRBR

I'm don't know how many farts just came from his ass, but it was wet and disgusting. The smell was eggy and I gagged hard. I pull away from Brandon's hand. He's laughing hard as he backs his chair up from me.

"Sorry, gotta make sure the new guy is welcomed." He says, boner still pressed against the fabric of his pants. He makes a show of adjusting himself, giving me a wink, and then stands up from the chair to leave.

PFFFBBRBRFFFFFFTTTTTT

"For the road." He says at the entryway.

I'm sitting on the floor, stuck, not sure what to do. I mean this was a line that got crossed professionally. Do I go to the L-T and let him know what just occurred? Do I just leave it alone?

Ultimately, I finish what I'm doing and hide back in my office. But I don't stop thinking about what happened. I'm not into all the farting stuff, but dude, that fat dong has me salivating. The thought of being back under the desk sucking on that hog (pun intended) makes it difficult to focus.

February 23 -

There had been a few run ins with Brandon over the couple past days, but nothing of note. That changed though on the 23rd.

The lieutenant asked me to assist with getting new equipment setup in a side office for a new Sargent that would be starting soon. Not an abnormal request, so I do my thing.

That's where I feel the hand on my ass. Brandon is there giving me that shit-eating grin again.

"Whoa man, I don't know you like that."

"Not yet." He gives me a wink. "But now that I'm Sargent, I'm sure you'll be getting to know me pretty well."

"Wait, is this going to be your office."

"Yup." He pops the P loudly and I can't help but watch the way he licks his lips. Fuck I need to get out of here.

"Well, congrats man. I'm going to keep working, so if you don't mind removing your hand." He removes his hand and walks away. I can't help the sigh of relief that leaves my lips, but then I hear the door close and the lock latch. I turn my head quickly to see the blinds closing as well. He makes eye contact with me and points to the black sofa. "Wha?"

"Sit down." He says impatiently. And I don't know if it's his tone or the arousal in my brain, but I do as I'm told. "Look, you're a fag, you can't help that. But, you need to keep those eyes of yours to yourself."

"What? You just grabbed my ass."

"I'm not a fag though."

"That's kind of fag behavior though." I don't stop myself. "What game are you playing here?" I say angrily.

"Watch your tone. I'm a man, fags don't get to talk to men like that." Who the hell is this guy?

"Fuck you man, I'm going to L-T." I get up from the sofa, but immediately Brandon grabs me and moves my hands behind my back and puts me in cuffs. "What the hell man?" He pushes me back to the sofa where I land face first.

"You have the right to remain silent." He puts his knee on my back, preventing me from moving. I can feel him shifting and adjusting behind me. When he grabs me and flips me to my back, I can see that he's shirtless. And of course he has an awesome body. I try to ignore that fact but then his hands go to his belt and he drops his pants. His fat dong, already fully erect in his cobalt blue boxer briefs.

"I-" I lose the words as I see him pump his cock through the boxers.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your pick fag."

"What does that even mean? Brandon, what are we doing here." I go to stand back up, but he pushes me back down.

"Don't get up unless I tell you to." He says as his hand is forcefully pushing my chest into the sofa. He's towering above me and I'm trying to keep eye contact, but my eyes move back to his cock. "Fag, can't even help yourself. Eyes up here fag."

"I-I-Can I suck you off?" It catches both of us off guard. He examines my face for a moment and then laughs.

"Oh you thought this was for you." He jiggles his cock in his hand. "Nah, that's not how this is going." He grabs my shirt, and adjusts my position on the couch where my head is positioned in between the crack of the cushions. He turns around and his boxer clad ass is positioned over my face. He drops his ass hard and slams me into the sofa.

I'm stuck in the sofa, and Brandon's ass is covering my face. Immediately I can smell how musky Brandon is today and my face is already starting to feel damp.

PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

Oh no, not this again. Warm air hits my face and the smell hits like a freight train at this distance. I cough and strain against the cuffs on my hands, but I can't move. I scream help hoping anyone can hear me, but I know it's useless from Brandon's laugh. "Oh shut up."

PBRBBRFTTT PBRBRBFFFFFFT

A whine escapes from me as the new farts hit my nose. The smell is like sewage and there's no escaping. "Oh god someone help!" I yell, but it only gets drowned out from Brandon slamming his ass down on my face again.

"I said shut up." He drops again and I'm feeling slightly concussed. "I want to hear you sniffing this one."

"No!" I whine.

"Sniff or I'm shoving a baton up your ass." I reluctantly take a large inhale.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

A sigh of relief leaves Brandon as I'm forced to inhale the full brunt of the noxious fumes. Everything starts to feel distant as more sewage is inhaled to my lungs. Fuck things are really starting to spin.

"Good boy." He briefly stands up and gives my head a pat and I can't help but lean into the pat. "Alright, that's enough." He slams his ass back down. "Get back to sniffing." I whine in protest. "Sniff now." Again, I begin to inhale.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRRRFFFFFFBRBRBRFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

"Ah fuck." Brandon sighs as I gag down the gas. "Yeah fucking smell that shit." He grinds his ass down against my face. "I bet you're lovin' this shit fag." I whine, but he just lifts up and slams down again. "Yeah you like it when my fat ass destroys your face."

PFFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

He times this slam with the fart. In that moment, tears start to fall down my face. It's all too much, I'm having a hard time keeping a coherent thought.

"Open your mouth." It's like I became sober in an instant. Immediately I lock my lips so that they can't be forced open. When Brandon checks me and sees that I'm refusing. "If you open your mouth, my dick can get in easier." I know my eyes widened just as much as my mouth did. He laughed so hard before slamming his ass back down over my mouth. "Sike!"

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

With no time to react, I swallow down the disgusting, long fart and make a horrified noise. Brandon's whole body is shaking as he's laughing. "I can't believe you fell for that." He keeps farting as he laughs and I keep just swallowing down the disgusting butt bombs. My mouth is overwhelmed by the taste of ass and my brain is having a hard time processing any of this.

PFFFFFFBBRBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT PFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

"Please stop." I try to get out, but Brandon's farting is louder than I can manage. I gag against his warm ass. "Mercy."

"Fuck. I knew when I made that shake this morning it was going to hit hard, but not this hard." Brandon wiggles his ass again on my face. "Alright, I got shit to do, lets get to the finale." He gets off of me fully and turns around. He makes eye contact as I watch his hand slide under his waistband and pulls his boxers off. His cock is fully erect and standing straight. He leans down, right hand on his cock and slaps my face over and over again with his cock as he laughs. "This is what you want right? My slab of man meat." He strokes himself over and over as all I can do is watch.

"Please?" I say despite the state of myself.

"Pathetic." He starts to lower his cock towards my mouth. "Even after getting acquainted with my ass, you still want to suck me off. What makes you think you deserve my cock?"

"Please, I'll make you feel so good." I say, not really hearing myself. "I deserve it, I've been a good boy."

He runs a hand through my hair and begins to put his cock in my mouth. "I guess you have." He moves his cock head along my lips. "You did just take all that man gas." He pretends to think and I take the moment to close my lips around his cock head. "Ah-ah-ah" He pulls his cock away. "I didn't say you could do that." From the small taste I got, I knew I needed that cock in my mouth.

Instead though, I got Brandon's naked ass slammed down onto my face with my mouth wide open.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

My body jolts as the taste is even worse than when he had boxers on. He lifts up and I watch as his hairy hole leaves my face. I feel utterly broken and disgusting as his I watch his hole wink and let out more gas above my face.

"Bet that tasted nice, didn't it fag. You like it when a man takes what's his?"

"You're disgusting." I spit on the ground, partially to get the awful taste off my tongue.

"Ah, you're so sweet." He kneels above me and starts stroking his cock again. "I guess you can have a treat." As he going, I can't help flexing my own cock against my khakis. He moans lightly and continues to fart, thankfully not directly on my face this time. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hope you're ready, cause once I start shooting that's all you're getting." I willingly open my mouth again, against my better judgement. This time though, he does start to shoot his load. Barely any makes it into my mouth and instead I can feel him drenching my hair and my face with his cum. By the eighth shot, he's actually aiming for my mouth and I'm flooded with the taste of his salty semen.

Fuck it was delicious.

"Get the fuck out my office." I didn't even realize but he's already pulling his boxers back on.

I go to stand up and that's when I remember I still have hand cuffs on. "Um. Can-"

"I said get the fuck out." The face he gave me told me everything I needed to know. I got out of the office and realized, I have no where to go. Cum on my face and hair, and hand cuffs in the middle of the police department.

I rush into the bathroom, closing the door with my foot and try to come up with a plan. It's ruined when Brandon literally walks into the bathroom. "Dude, get me out of these cuffs."

He gives me a once over before locking the door and going over to the urinal. "Yeah, in a second." He pulls out his sizeable cock, not fully erect this time and starts taking a piss. "Fuck that's nice." He rips ass of course, making me jolt. He catches me, "Heh, yeah my ass has that effect."

"Fuck you." There wasn't heat behind it.

"I don't know. I think you liked it. Liked sniffing my ass like a dirty fag." He flushes the urinal and grabs and turns me around. He bends me over and humps my ass. "I bet this is what you really wanted. My fat cock pushing into your pussy."

"Dude, stop. Get me out of these cuffs." The weight of his bulge pressing against my ass was making my cock start to harden again.

"Fine." He pushes me against the wall. Bulge pressed against my ass the whole time as he unlocks my cuffs. "But don't pretend you didn't like it."

"I didn't."

"We'll see." He burps in my face and takes a finger, swipes it in cum, and pushes it into my mouth. I moan, against my will which gives him that evil grin. He leaves me, without washing his hands, disgusting.

I stand and stare at myself in the mirror. There is still a metric shit ton of cum covering my face. I can't stop myself as I start to swipe some of the cum and ingest it. Fuck it's so good. I mean, it tastes like cum, but fuck, against the backdrop of Brandon's ass, it's the best taste in the world. Another swipe and another, like a frenzied animal, I keep eating the cum.

You couldn't help but physically cringe from the booming flatulent noises ringing from the bathroom, that were unfortunately magnified by the porcelain toilet and the tiny cramped apartment. The rent in this place was so cheap, it was all you could afford, even if it meant the kitchen and bathroom were all stuffed into basically the same area, with only a door and thin walls separating the 2.

"Hggnnn-" BBBBBBBBRRRRRRAMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHH! KA-PLOP!

It was impossible not to gag at least a little as you heard yet another fart followed by a ringing splash. You'd think you'd be somewhat used to it by now, but somehow it always seemed to repulse you. It was always made worse by his loud, shameless grunting, not to mention the often childish, school boy laughter afterwards as well. He was just so damn proud of his toilet wrecking habits, for whatever reason.

BBBBBBLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRTTTTTT! KA-PLOOSH!

PAAAAARRRRRRP! PLOP!

"Gnnnn-" BBBBBBBLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAARRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT SPLOOOSH! "Aaahhh"

Every time you tried desperately to take at least one mouthful, you were interrupted by a vibrating fart, a plopping sound of a rock landing in a pool, and/or a shameless groan/giggle putting you off your apatite for a bit. It probably would've been put right off altogether, if you hadn't heard this so many times before. You just wanted to have some food, then you could evacuate the place.

Finally, after what felt like at least an hour, you heard the toilet flushing, which should've made you relieved, but couldn't because it meant you knew what was coming next. The door then opened, and you were hit with the stink of Wilson's bathroom bomb. He strode out the door looking satisfied with himself. He was wearing absolutely nothing, except for his classic white boxers. You weren't going to demand him to put something on, as he was almost twice your size in terms of muscle and near height.

"Phew, God damn man, you don't wanna go in there for a while. I know how weak your nose can be, and I bet you'd probably get knocked out. So, I'd probably give that a day or so, maybe. Sheesh, That's what a good protein meal and gym sesh will do to you, just goes right through me. I mean... did you hear me in there? I felt like I dropped over a pound, hahaha." Wilson snickered, proud of his 'achievement'. He never showed an ounce of shame, and it only disgusted you all the more. You didn't know what would put you off your food quicker, the sounds, the stench or his detailed descriptions of the aftermath. It had become such a nightmare that you'd now always resorted to using the ones in the bar next door to your flats, after yours would become uninhabitable, after Wilson was done with it. They didn't smell too great either, but you'd take them any day over what was waiting for you back home.

"Seriously man, I would say that was a record breaker of a dump, but I don't think that was even my biggest one this week. And I thought I was gonna bust the plumbing, hahaha." He let out another disgusting laugh, as you cringed again. You'd lost count of the amount of times you'd had to call the plumber to deal with his 'clogging'. You practically had the same regular guy visiting every other week at this point. Apparently Wilson got along with him quite well and he'd even congratulate him as he 'didn't often see a guy with such skill'. Sometimes you felt like the only sane person around him.

"Anyway, outta the way man. I need to get some food in me, gotta keep my build up, you know." He barged past you, over to the fridge. "I need some more protein, cause I'm planning on going to the gym again later-, wait a minute." He paused before snickering. "Hey bro, pull my finger." He presented his index finger to you. You groaned, as if he the current stench in the air wasn't pungent enough. Wilson didn't even give you enough time to respond, as he simply shrugged at your disgust, and pulled it himself, cocking his leg a bit.

FFFFFFFFRRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTT!

The room reverberated with the sound of his post dump flatulence, no longer blocked off by the thin wall (not that that usually did any good anyway). The stink of his eggy fart was now making things a bit too much, that you almost dropped your fork. Wilson just let out chuckle, as your suffering on his 'products' was always amusing to him, as he bent over to root around for some food in the fridge.

As you finished gagging, you turned around to see his back to you, which was an immediate mistake. His ass was now pointed directly at you as he bent down into the fridge, whether that was intentional of or not. On top of that, there was an obvious brown skid mark down the centre of the crack area. Wilson paid no obvious notice to your disgust, but you swore you could sense him smirking at your expense of his repulsive personality.

Finally, after a few more moments of gagging from your end, Wilson slammed the fridge door and turned to look you, with a face of mock dissapointment.

"Well, what do you know dude? Seems like we're out of good food." You knew he was lying, there was at least a enough left for him to slap a small meal together. But that's when you realised what you were eating. A nice salad, with a creamy, eggy dressing. That was the last thing you wanted to give to him, as it would absolutely turn him into even more of a stinky, nuclear bomb. You looked back up at Wilson, who was now staring down at you with a shit eating grin. You had a horrible idea what he was about to do.

"Hey dude, think you mind giving me that? I need something with some good protien for later. Be a pal, and give me that salad, would ya?" His grin was certainly intimidating, but you felt like holding down. You didn't fancy anything else in the fridge, and you were already a little behind on rent, so you couldn't really buy any other food. Wilson obviously noticed your hesitance, so he decided to press on further, in the worst possible way.

"Cmon bro, you're my buddy ain't ya?" He then proceeded to grab you round the head and embrace you in a rough, near chokehold like 'hug' with rubbing your head. Your face was now directly next to his musky, sweaty armpit, which reeked almost as much as his recent fart. It was difficult to breath without taking any of it in.

Honestly, you only lived with him cause it was the cheapest rent you could afford, although you considered living on the street as opposed to with him. Wilson only had you around because he loved having someone to pick on, as well as have control over, in his own "special way". He was starting to suffocate you a little before finally letting go. Realistically, that should've cracked you, yet a part of you still felt like standing up for yourself. When Wilson noticed, he continued to smirk, your suffering had always been a mere game to him.

"Seriously man, you know I need it more than you. After all I gotta keep this bod in shape." He then flexed his muscles, making you roll your eyes. However, he then turned around, facing his large, white boxer cladded ass directly at you. "Particularly, my ass man. It's my main meat, you know? Makes all the girls swoon and the guys cheer, don't you agree?" He swung his cheeks tauntingly from side to side. Whilst this may have been true, all you could focus on was that disgusting skid mark, along with the strong pong radiating off it. You didn't think this could get worse, but you should've known better by now.

BRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!

"Oh yeah, get a whiff of that dude!" Wilson sighed in triumph, as he began to gleefully waft the scent of his pungent blast towards you. You couldn't help but audibly cough as Wilson stared back at you, almost maniacally. "That's another thing, my awesome farts. The guys don't call me Windy Wilson for nothing, and that salad will give me just the fuel I need. My gas is just part of my charm. You wouldn't want me to loose my signature gassy stink... would you?" There was a playfully threating tone to his voice now, one that built up a sense of fear, even more than usual. Obviously, you wanted nothing more, it would certainly make everyday more 'breathable' so to speak.

"W-well, I mean, I do need-" You tried to utter some kind of comprehensible comeback, but the combined miasma coming from him, along with the bathroom, was overwhelming your brain. Wilson simply tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"It seems I'm not getting through to you. Here." And then, to your up most horror, he began to pull down his boxers, exposing his naked, musky, slightly hairy ass. As he did so, you were instantly hit with a new wave of 'aroma' that proved to you that he definitely hadn't wiped his ass properly, after dropping such a bomb. Before you could even think of escaping, he grabbed you by the head and began to almost shove your face into his smelly, bare, unwashed ass. It was pure hell.

BBBBBBBBBBLLLLLOOOOOOORRRRRRTTT!

"Ahhhh, smell that? That's the stink of a true man. And if I'm going to keep it, I need some good protein food." You were struggling to escape the rotten fumes as they shot directly up your nose. You wouldn't be shocked if he singed off your nose hairs. "Now, I'll ask you politely one more time, cause you wouldn't like me when I'm angry, and believe me, I can do this all day." You then heard his stomach rumble ominously, making you whimper in terror. "But looking at you now, I think the message is getting through. Now, give-"

PPAAAARRRRRPPPP!

"Me-"

RRRRRAAAAPPPPPPPPPRTTTTTTTT!

"That-"

BBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLAAAAAARRRTTTTTTT!

"-Salad"

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRTT!

"-Please!"

You swore you would've been blasted across the room from the sheer force of his gas, if he weren't holding your head in place. The accompanying eggy, shitty stink of was so strong that you honestly felt like you were going to vomit. He'd never tormented you quite like this before.

Eventually, his butt finally came to a stop with a loud quack and let go of your head. You fell back onto the floor out of the chair, limp. You couldn't think of anything to say, being on the verge of passing out. Wilson simply pulled up his boxers, satisfied with your demise. He plopped himself onto the chair and picked up the fork.

"Thanks bro, knew you'd come through for me. Why don't you go get your own food somewhere else, I'm sure you can find something." He snickered at you, as you got up feeling dizzy, ears almost ringing from the blasts. "Also, you may wanna go somewhere else if you need to use the bathroom at all, cause that's not gonna be the only dump I take today, hahaha. Also, I've got some bros coming over for a party tomorrow and we're gonna need a judge for our annual fart contest. Appreciate it if you could help us out man, thanks." Wilson smirked at you, as you hurried past the biohazard that was 'his' bathroom and out the door, gulping as you heard him let out one last vibrating gas explosion onto the chair, complete with a another satisfied sigh.