Really putting the stink in nondistinct...
Don't worry he can take it, he's immune to poison 😇

If you do take issue with his abuse, voice your concerns and respond "Now let me be Frank"

#FurryFart #Fart

// fart

You jerk off and cum many more times that night to Geronimo’s horrid, delectable farts, and he keeps letting them out as he writes, fortunately unaware the entire time that you’re there. When he finally stands up and heads to bed, you’re already asleep yourself, dreaming of his ass, gas, and stink.

He’s written quite a few pages at this point, but the amount of blasts he’s let out while writing them easily quadruples them, but you’ve lost count of the exact amount. Right now, you’re about to cum, and you have the most explosive climax of your life. Again, his gas drowns out your moaning.

You’ve lost all track of time. All you know right now is mouse toots and the throbbing of your genitals as you keep stroking and get more and more turned on. The farts are coming out with mere seconds between them now, getting louder, longer, bubblier, and moister with each successive release.

You’re leaking quite a bit as you stroke yourself, your bits leaking onto your fingers more and more as dozens upon dozens of Geronimo’s cheesy, eggy mouse farts fill your nose and mouth. You accidentally let out a moan, but a well timed particularly loud anal blast of his luckily covers it up.

By now he’s so invested in his writing that he doesn’t even register that he’s letting any farts fly, and they come in heavy directly onto your face one after another. You’re so turned on that you can’t restrain your hands from touching yourself as you quietly sniff his awfully wonderful gas.

He fans the air around him and locks back into his writing as he pushes out one roaring fart, then two, then three. Each is louder and more putrid than the last, and you desperately wish you could pull down his pants and underwear and stick your face directly into the source to mop the stink up.

“O-oh goodness,” he sheepishly says to himself when he gets a whiff of his own acrid supply. “Good thing no one’s here with me. They’d probably pass out.” And with that, another bassy blast rips out of his ass, its warmth covering you and its deep stink, worse than before, invading your senses.

With how much cheese he eats, there’s no way he doesn’t rip some absolutely rancid ones