Making dat dough

With a decisive grasp, Nathan snatched the camera, its power instantly surging to life. 

Nathan's eager inquiry, laced with playful dominance, hung heavy in the air: "Are you ready, my hunky sexy negro-king?"

Bryce's head swiveled, his gaze finding Nathan's. Semen, thick and glistening, clung to him.

"Of course, my milk slave." Byce says.

With aggressive intent, Bryce seized Nathan, his genitals pressing deliberately against the sweat-dampened flesh of Nathan's underarm.A wave of intense pleasure washed over Bryce as his tongue explored the sensitive skin inside Nathan's ear. The escalating ecstasy culminated in a sudden, overwhelming release, its potent essence finding its mark in the unexpected intimacy of Nathan's armpit.

Bryce's voice, sharp with urgency, conveyed a profound understanding: The necessary actions were self-evident. With a sudden pivot, Nathan contorted, his bowels expelling a vibrant stream of bilious excrement directly onto Bryce's engorged member.

"Now snort the chunky parts like cocaine."

With a grotesque, deliberate motion, Nathan stooped, his face inches from Bryce's violated flesh. He inhaled, the fecal matter—coarse and repugnant—drawn into his nostrils from the defiled organ. A wave of nausea swept over Nathan, and he expelled a horrifying mixture of fecal matter and partially digested food. 

Exhilarated by his exploits, Bryce, brimming with self-satisfaction, recounted his deeds to a captivated Nathan:

"Nghh fuckk Nathan.

 "Thats hot as a clock when it's a sandwich."

" "Big chungus beans boiii" Nathan says, covered in cum, shit and puke.