Tent Tooting
Story by CraZygAEmeR on SoFurry
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Jake has never been camping before because he was too scared to go alone, but when he heard about feraltaurs he jumped at the opportunity which is how he met his new friend, a wolftaur by the name of Wynter, who he is currently driving to the nearby forest with for the camping experience that he always wanted. Wynter doesn't understand what the big deal about sleeping in the forest is since he's done it many times, so Jake wants to make it a memorable experience by choosing a nice spot for rock climbing even though Jake doesn't have much upper body strength, but how hard can it be?
It takes longer to get there than he thought and he doesn't want to do any climbing in the dark, so once they arrive he wastes no time setting up the tent and lighting a campfire to cook a meal, whatever meat was in his fridge for Wynter while he eats soup, and they chat until sunset -- mostly about the various camping equipment Jake brought since Wynter doesn't know much about them. When Jake sees the clouds gathering he decides to head inside to sleep so that he can wake up early, while Wynter heads out to gather more wood before it gets wet.
As Wynter searches through the forest, he's finding it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open; he decides to rest for just a moment but in just a few seconds his bipedal side has fallen asleep. Although Wynter has slept outside before, he doesn't want to leave his new friend alone, so his quadrupedal side has to navigate back to the camp without being able to see. It takes a few minutes and bumping into various trees, but he's able to retrace his steps to the camp and drag his upper body through the entrance of the tent.
He moves around until he feels what he thinks is the sleeping bag, then struggles to get inside. It takes him almost a minute and a lot of awkward movement, but he manages in the end. The bag isn't as comfortable as the human said it would be, it feels very lumpy, but he's currently too tired to care. He collapses and is ready to accept sleep, but when his stomach presses against the ground, he realises how uncomfortably bloated he is; he's pretty sure the meat from earlier is giving him gas and it's making it hard to rest. He's envious that his bipedal side is able to sleep through this.
While trying to get into a better position, Wynter freezes when he suddenly feels hands on his stomach, but as it massages his big belly his fear turns to confusion. He is unsure of what is going on, but then he remembers that the human mentioned that sleeping bags are different from regular bags -- perhaps this is what he meant? He's heard of special chairs and beds that use robotic hands to give massages, perhaps the sleeping bag has one too. As he calms down and thinks about how considerate Jake was by getting such a sleeping bag for them both he finds he's actually enjoying the sensation; they somehow feel like actual hands and are very soft. The way they gently caress his body makes him feel relaxed and at peace.
As Wynter relishes the feeling, the sleeping bag pushes against his stomach, surprising him and causing the gas to move towards his bottom, exiting with incredible force. The wet fart that lasts for a few seconds feels great as he relieves the pressure in his belly and eases some of the pain. When he catches a whiff of the meaty smell, he does his best at closing the entrance of the sleeping bag with his front paws so that the smell and noise can't escape since he doesn't want to wake Jake as he lifts up a hind leg and farts again, this time coming out much more easily than before but lasting just as long.
After a few minutes, Wynter's sphincter sirens are now mostly sputters but he's surprised to find out how much he's enjoying this experience. Since he's passed gas many times before he assumes it might be the noticeably more intense massage he's getting but somehow this is turning him on; as he releases a long fart, his growing erection pushes into some sort of soft opening. He's not sure why someone would make a sleeping bag that has something for this situation, but he's thankful that it does; the fact that the inside is wet and feels like an actual mouth weirds him out a bit, but he focuses more on thrusting into it. The massage stops for a moment but then rewards him by really digging its fingers into his stomach and pushing even more of his intestinal wind out.
As another floorboard lifter bellows out of his backdoor, Wynter increases his pace and slams his erection even deeper than before so that his balls are slapping against the machine. Once his knot is fully swollen inside of the device he pulls back hard enough to lift it off the ground before thrusting down again. Although he hopes he doesn't break the machine he doesn't slow down. With one final push, his balls tense up and he blows his load into the device. The orgasm brings him great bliss as the contents of his balls are emptied into the machine accompanied by a minute long spicy hot stinker that singes his anus. Completely spent, he collapses and quickly falls asleep, still breaking wind every few seconds. He almost feels bad that his bipedal side missed out on the fun, almost. He's so exhausted he doesn't even notice that the massage has stopped completely.
As the sun rises, Wynter's eyes flutter open and he stretches with a big yawn. He looks around and notices that he's in the tent, his legs probably dragged him there. He shakes his lower half awake and stands up, releasing the grip they have on the bag and causing a sudden wave of foul smelling air to permeate around him -- normally he would just ignore it, but the smell is so bad that he holds his nose. He looks to the other sleeping bag and sees that it's empty, he guesses that Jake already left to go mountain climbing and heads outside to look for him.
As for the human left inside of the fart-filled sleeping bag all night with a wolf's member in his mouth, this wasn't the camping experience that Jake wanted, but he's not going to complain. As he watches the wolftaur's hefty pair of balls leave through the entrance of the tent and out of view, the only think he can think about is wanting to taste it again, although maybe with an air filter next time.