Stinkers – Part 1


Jed met Sam on the bus (though he didn’t learn his name until quite a bit later), or rather, he smelled his pits as he walked past him, and knew, then and there, that he would have to get closer. Jed worked as a construction worker, and could build up quite the stink himself. He’d always enjoyed the stench of his sweaty pits, and while he would never in his life admit to enjoying any sort of faggotry, there was something about another fucker’s musk that got him riled up in a way no pussy stench could. And something in that guy’s eye, as he walked past, smirking under that sleazy handlebar mustache, made Jed think that he might not mind the attention. Before the bus could move on, he got up from his seat and followed him back. Sam took a window seat, and Jed slid in next to him on the mostly empty bus.

The musk simply enveloped him, and Jed breathed deep, feeling his heart pulse, his cock growing harder. Almost immediately a hand gripped the inside of his thigh, stroking the hardening shaft. He wanted to come up with something to say, but Sam put his arm around Jed’s shoulders, and he could see the yellow pit stains embedded in his white shirt, and he shuddered. Sam stroked a bit faster. Jed leaned in closer, snorting more of the stench up.

“Guess someone likes it nasty,” he whispered into Jed’s ear. He came in his shorts with a gasp.

“I’m…I’m not a faggot.”

He just smiled back.

“Fuck, you smell fuckin’ amazing.”

Sam leaned over, pressed his nose to the nape of Jed’s neck, took a sniff, and then licked up some of his hot sweat. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know.”

Jed couldn’t take his nose away. He took the pit of the shirt in his mouth and started chewing on it, filling it up with spit, and then sucking it out again, moaning louder this time. Somehow one of his hands had ended up in Sam’s lap, right on his cock. He ran his hand up and down the shaft. Eight inches? Nine?

“Not…Not a faggot…” he said again, but his heart just wasn’t in it this time.

Sam had his hand stuffed down the front of Jed’s shorts, coating his whole hand with cum, and spilled it back out. He pressed his hand to his nose, took a couple loud snorts, and then smeared it on the pit of his shirt. Jed sucked that up as well. It wasn’t the first time he’d tasted his own cum, but fuck, this was fuckin’ out of control. He wanted to look around, see how many people on the bus were staring at them, see how many were trying to not stare at them, check the rearview to see what the driver was looking at, but everytime he tried, somehow a hand pulled him back into the pit…and he just stayed there. He wasn’t quite sure how long, and then the bus came to a stop, and Sam put his arm down, forcing Jed to take his mouth away from the sopping wet fabric, his breath hot and quick.

“Sorry man, this is my stop.”

Jed looked outside, and realized he’d missed his own by three or four. Sam got up, purposefully ground the crotch of his jeans into Jed’s face as he pushed past. Every part of his nose lit up; it was an entirely different stench, and with a deep shudder, Jed felt his cock spasm, pumping even more cum into his already wet shorts.

He stopped in the aisle and looked back, “You could always come along for a little fun, you know.”

He kept walking, Jed kept sitting. He watched the man smirk at him as he got off the bus, and he scrambled up and after him, out onto the sidewalk. It was a part of the city he wasn’t particularly familiar with, part of the business district, men in suits hurrying past them on the sidewalk. The man was waiting for him. Jed fell to his knees, and pressed his nose to the front of the man’s filthy jeans, desperate to smell it again, running his tongue along the outline of his hard cock.

“I’m not a faggot, but fuck I wanna suck you off.”

“We can make each other gag later, don’t you fucking worry. Now come on, get up, and let’s have some fucking fun, man.”

Sam walked off down the sidewalk, and Jed caught a look at himself in the window of the building there, and he just stared at himself for a second. That couldn’t be right…could it? He looked…bigger all of a sudden. Taller, and more built, like he’d packed on some muscle during the bus ride. His shorts were tight across his thighs, and the shirt was riding up. He still had a belly, but there was more hair on it than before. In fact, there was more hair…everywhere. His arms were hairier, he had a short beard which had somehow grown in rapidly over less than half an hour. And…and fuck, he stank. He lifted one arm, and sniffed his own pit, his cock leaking more cum into his already wet shorts.

Sam had turned and was watching him. Jed hurried over and caught up.

“Did you do this to me?”

“If I said I did, would it even matter?” Sam turned and kept walking, “Come on, I want to have some fun.”

Jed told himself that this was a bad idea. That he shouldn’t follow him, but his legs were moving even before he’d made up his mind. His nose wanted more, his tongue wanted more. And he couldn’t quite manage to care much about what might happen to him if he kept on smelling.

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