You went to Stefan house, eager to see what the squirtle streamer is up to. As you walked into his room, you're immediately greeted by Stefan setting up his face-cam. His light-blue skin glistens under the room light, and his large, expressive eyes dart around as he sets up his equipment. You walked up next to him in front of the face-cam. He eyed you, but didn't respond.

"Alright..." Stefan mumbled, his voice carrying a slight rasp. His tight green briefs that clung to his ample backside. His plump, blue ass jiggled with a life of their own, each subtle movement sending ripples through the fabric like waves lapping at a shore.

As he turned to adjust his desktop, A glimpse of his thick, chubby thighs straining against the fabric of his shorts, the soft flesh spilling over the elastic waistband like dough over the edge of a mixing bowl. Stefan's wide hips gave him a distinctly curvaceous silhouette that seemed to defy the laws of gravity.

Stefan then slid his is beanie on over his head, threw on his headset, and sat down on his gaming chair. As he settled into the seat, his large, plump ass stretched the fabric of his tight green briefs, and spilled over the edges of the chair like overcooked dough spilling from a too-full baking pan. "Hey, chat, everything looking good on your end?" Stefan asks, turning his attention to the camera. Messages started to flood in on the chatroom, from innocent messages responding to Stefan's question, to scandalous comments about Stefan's physique.

"Let me know if you see any issues. Also, mods, ban anyone who says some sus shit! I don't need those fags in my chat!" He shouts out frustratedly as he reaches out for a Mountain Dew and cracked it open. "Anyways..." His words trailed off, he snapped his neck towards you with an annoyed look. "Aren't you gonna say something, freak?"

You walked into Stefan's room just as he was finishing his face-cam setup. His light-blue skin shone under the lights, big eyes flicking around. You stepped up beside him in front of the camera. He glanced at you but said nothing.

"Alright…" he muttered, voice rough. His tight green briefs dug into his plump blue ass, the fabric stretched thin and straining with every tiny shift. Soft flesh spilled over the waistband of his shorts and the edges of the chair like over-risen dough.

A low, wet glrrrk… gurgle-glorp rolled through his belly as he sat. The chair creaked under the weight of his wide hips and thick thighs. Another deep bworrrp answered from his gut, loud enough to pick up on mic.*

He yanked his beanie on, slapped the headset over it, and cracked open a Mountain Dew. The can hissed. His stomach answered with a long, strained gluuurgle-rrrllch that made the fabric of his briefs tighten even more across his heavy ass.

"Hey chat, everything looking good?" Messages flooded in—some normal, plenty thirsty. Stefan scowled.

"Mods, ban the sus shit. Don't need that in my chat." *He took a noisy gulp of the soda. His gut gave a sharp, protesting ggrrooaan-glorp in reply.

Then he snapped his head toward you, annoyed and clearly uncomfortable. "Aren't you gonna say something, freak?"

You went to Stefan's house, eager to see what the Squirtle streamer is up to. As you walked into his room, you're immediately greeted by Stefan setting up his face-cam. His light-blue skin glistens under the room light, and his large, expressive eyes dart around as he sets up his equipment. A low, wet glrrrk… glorp… rolls from deep in his belly, the sound thick and liquid as gas churns inside him. You walked up next to him in front of the face-cam. He eyed you, but didn't respond, only another slow gllrrrnch answered for him.

"Alright..." Stefan mumbled, his voice carrying a slight rasp that was nearly drowned out by a deeper, rolling brrrrrrgl… from his gut. His tight green briefs clung to his ample backside. His plump, blue ass jiggled with a life of their own, each subtle movement sending ripples through the fabric like waves lapping at a shore, and every jiggle was accompanied by a soft, pressurized pffft… of trapped gas shifting and squeaking between his cheeks.

As he turned to adjust his desktop, a glimpse of his thick, chubby thighs straining against the fabric of his shorts showed the soft flesh spilling over the elastic waistband like dough over the edge of a mixing bowl. Stefan's wide hips gave him a distinctly curvaceous silhouette that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. Another long, wet glrrrrrk-glorp shuddered through his middle, making his belly visibly tremble for a second before a muted thpppt of gas escaped into the seat of his briefs.

Stefan then slid his beanie on over his head, threw on his headset, and sat down on his gaming chair. As he settled into the seat, his large, plump ass stretched the fabric of his tight green briefs and spilled over the edges of the chair like overcooked dough spilling from a too-full baking pan. The moment his weight fully compressed the soft blue cheeks, a deep, drawn-out BBBBBRRRRRAAAAAPPPPT ripped out of him, long and wet, the chair creaking under the force as the green fabric visibly ballooned for a second before the gas hissed free. A residual gllrrrnch… brrrt… continued to bubble and gurgle inside him even after the fart faded.

"Hey, chat, everything looking good on your end?" Stefan asks, turning his attention to the camera, though another soft pfffrrt slips out under him mid-sentence. Messages started to flood in on the chatroom, from innocent messages responding to Stefan's question, to scandalous comments about Stefan's physique—and more than a few about the wet, gassy soundtrack he was providing.

"Let me know if you see any issues. Also, mods, ban anyone who says some sus shit! I don't need those fags in my chat!" *He shouts out frustratedly as he reaches out for a Mountain Dew and cracks it open. The carbonation only seems to wake his gut further; a long, liquid glrrrrrk-glorp-glorp answers the first sip, followed by a short, bubbly pffft-tt that makes his cheeks bounce. "Anyways..." His words trailed off. He snapped his neck towards you with an annoyed look, another low brrrgl… rolling out of him. "Aren't you gonna say something, freak?"

You found Stefan in the living room for once, not his usual setup. The TV was on, controllers scattered across the couch, empty snack bags and a half-crushed Mountain Dew can on the floor. He was mid-match in some chaotic party fighter, standing, bouncing on the balls of his feet like the game demanded it.

His light-blue skin looked a little flushed under the living-room lights. The black beanie was shoved back on his head, tank top riding up over his soft middle every time he hopped. Those tight green briefs were doing the same losing battle they always did, clinging hard to his enormous blue ass, the fabric dug deep between the cheeks while the soft flesh overflowed the sides and jiggled hard with every aggressive step and dodge.

He slammed a button combo, hips twisting sharply. The whole backside shook like jelly under the strained green material, thick thighs flexing and soft fat bouncing with the motion. His curled tail flicked once in irritation.

"Come on, you piece of shit- die already!" he barked at the screen, voice rough and loud. Another frantic side-step sent another heavy ripple through his plump rear. The couch cushion behind him took a solid hit from one cheek when he leaned too far back for a second.

He finally noticed you leaning in the doorway. Didn't stop playing, just shot you a sideways glare while his character got wrecked on-screen.

"About fucking time, freak. Grab a controller or get out of the way, I'm one loss from tilting so hard I'll throw this whole setup out the window." He shifted his weight, the green briefs stretching tighter across the wide, heavy curve of his ass as he planted his feet again. "And don't just stand there staring. Either play or start making yourself useful and get me another Dew."

You found Stefan in the living room for once, not his usual setup. The TV was on, controllers scattered across the couch, empty snack bags and a half-crushed Mountain Dew can on the floor. He was mid-match in some chaotic party fighter, standing, bouncing on the balls of his feet like the game demanded it.

His light-blue skin looked a little flushed under the living-room lights. The black beanie was shoved back on his head, tank top riding up over his soft middle every time he hopped. Those tight green briefs were doing the same losing battle they always did, clinging hard to his enormous blue ass, the fabric dug deep between the cheeks while the soft flesh overflowed the sides and jiggled hard with every aggressive step and dodge.

A low, wet glrrrk… glllorp rolled through his belly as he shifted his weight. The sound was thick and liquid, like something churning deep inside him. He slammed a button combo, hips twisting sharply. The whole backside shook like jelly under the strained green material, thick thighs flexing and soft fat bouncing with the motion. His curled tail flicked once in irritation as another deeper bworrrp-gluuurgh answered from his gut.

"Come on, you piece of shit- die already!" he barked at the screen, voice rough and loud. The outburst was almost drowned out by a long, pressurized gllrrrnch… glorp that made his soft middle visibly tremble for a second. Another frantic side-step sent another heavy ripple through his plump rear, accompanied by a soft, trapped pffft… of gas shifting between his cheeks. The couch cushion behind him took a solid hit from one cheek when he leaned too far back, the impact squeezing out a short, wet thpppt.

He finally noticed you leaning in the doorway. Didn't stop playing, just shot you a sideways glare while his character got wrecked on-screen. A residual brrrgl… gurgle-rrrllch kept bubbling low in his stomach.

"About fucking time, freak. Grab a controller or get out of the way, I'm one loss from tilting so hard I'll throw this whole setup out the window." He shifted his weight again, the green briefs stretching tighter across the wide, heavy curve of his ass as he planted his feet. The motion forced another slow, liquid glrrrrrk-glorp out of him. "And don't just stand there staring. Either play or start making yourself useful and get me another Dew."

You found Stefan in the living room for once, not his usual setup. The TV was on, controllers scattered across the couch, empty snack bags and a half-crushed Mountain Dew can on the floor. He was mid-match in some chaotic party fighter, standing, bouncing on the balls of his feet like the game demanded it.

A deep, wet glrrrk… glorp-glorp rolled through his belly the moment you stepped into the room. His light-blue skin looked a little flushed under the living-room lights. The black beanie was shoved back on his head, tank top riding up over his soft middle every time he hopped. Those tight green briefs were doing the same losing battle they always did, clinging hard to his enormous blue ass, the fabric dug deep between the cheeks while the soft flesh overflowed the sides and jiggled hard with every aggressive step and dodge.

He slammed a button combo, hips twisting sharply. The whole backside shook like jelly under the strained green material, thick thighs flexing and soft fat bouncing with the motion. At the same time a long, pressurized brrrrrgl… pfffrrt squeezed out between his cheeks, the green fabric visibly ballooning for a second before the gas hissed free. His curled tail flicked once in irritation at the screen, completely unaware.

"Come on, you piece of shit—die already!" he barked at the TV, voice rough and loud. Another frantic side-step sent another heavy ripple through his plump rear. A sharper, wetter GGGLORP-brraaap forced its way out of him mid-dodge, the force making his wide hips bounce harder against the tight briefs. The couch cushion behind him took a solid hit from one cheek when he leaned too far back for a second, another soft pffft… glrrrnch bubbling free as his weight shifted.

His belly kept churning the entire time—deep, liquid gluuurgle-rrrllch… bworrrp sounds that were loud enough to cut through the game audio. Every jump and twist squeezed more gas out of him in short, desperate bursts, the green fabric stretching tighter and tighter across the heavy curve of his ass as the pressure built. He never once glanced down, never once paused, never once reacted. He just kept mashing buttons, face locked on the screen in pure competitive tunnel vision.

He finally noticed you leaning in the doorway. Didn't stop playing, didn't acknowledge the wet BBBRRRAAAPT that ripped out of him the second he planted his feet again. Just shot you a sideways glare while his character got wrecked on-screen.

"About fucking time, freak. Grab a controller or get out of the way, I'm one loss from tilting so hard I'll throw this whole setup out the window." He shifted his weight again, the green briefs creaking as another long, strained gllrrrk-glorp… pfffrrrt forced its way free between his cheeks. Still completely oblivious. "And don't just stand there staring. Either play or start making yourself useful and get me another Dew."