bradjade: I was bored. This party was boring. I knew no one but the host, but it was Superbowl Sunda
bradjade: I was bored. This party was boring. I knew no one but the host, but it was Superbowl Sunday and their was free food. Free food that one guy took full advantage of; Zach. I saw him with 3 sandwiches and a bowl of chili when I first came in. His next course he fixed a 4th sandwich, some of my vegetable plate with bean dip, and some spicy nachos on the side. His third plate consisted of a second bowl of chili and three slices of cheesecake with some black coffee. This was all before the game started. I was floored by how much food this guy could eat and still look in shape. For most of the game I spent most of my time watching him shovel food into his mouth and walk back to the kitchen for more. I’m pretty sure around the second quarter he noticed me staring. Because he stayed in the kitchen to watch the game.It was halftime and the guys went to their respected apartments on the floor for a quick restroom break. I stayed and fixed myself a plate of food since I didn’t live in the building. Zach stayed to. I began to fix a sandwich when from the corner of my eye he began to squat against the island table. His ass caught my attention. He worked out, a lot. That ass looked huge. He said nothing, but snapped his finger and got my attention again. He pointed to his ass… “drop”, he ordered. I dove down, dove, my knees landed on the hard ground and I whimpered but a smell soothed me. Eggs. Rotten eggs. Ass. Rank ass. Fuck! This guy was bad… I had to smell more. Boy did he deliver! One warm blast of air after another was blowing across my face as his silent bombs exited his rear end. I started with sniffing, but I needed more, I started sucking, more… I turned to rubbing my whole face against his glutes to immerse myself in the smell. Then I heard it… “HOLY FUCK WHAT DIED IN HERE?!?!? JORDAN IS THAT YOU?” The host was still on the toilet as Zach raised his arm from the cutaway kitchen and smiled… “Uhh… that’s me” I had already shot up and began to work on my sandwich as the guys covered their noses and told Zach he was gonna kill me if I didn’t get out of that kitchen soon. I walked back to my seat and Zach stayed behind and continued to nuke the kitchen with his gas.The Superbowl continued and I watched as Zach polished off the big pot of chili and gave me glances every so often with a look of discomfort. He grinned and rubbed his bloated belly as the guys stayed focused on the game. I headed to the washroom as Zach intently pushed a sticky note on the counter top of the kitchen. I picked it up on my way back and read the note. It was a number. I texted my name and got a reply… “Hey, it’s Zach, I’m about to pop. Wanna go to my place after the game? Apartment 7C.” -- source link