Sean quivered, his blushing cheeks being gradually obscured by another set. The otter's chin rested on the pink tongue of his predator, and his whole body was wrapped in snug warmth. His knees had bent into the belly below, but his thick tail felt like it might accidentally go further.

       Wes curled his tongue over the otter's face, stroking tenderly with the flexible muscle. At the same time, he trailed his fingers along his throat, stroking soothingly. The foxtaur flicked his tail, his forepaws idly kneading in their extended posture. His hind legs were splooted out behind him, a lazy sort of pose befitting the casual nature of his consumption.

       Softly, the mustelid nuzzled into the tongue as it slid along his cheek and tucked his whiskers into the spread jaws. He squirmed at the intense sensation, closing his eyes as a soft grunt escaped his throat.

       Smiling, the taur closed his mouth fully. Wes recognized the ottery sound for what it was, and gently tilted his head back, swallowing firmly. He clenched the passage between his two stomachs as he felt a prod there, and relaxed it once the tail was curling away from it at a comfortable angle.

       Sean sank all the way down, past the rush of air in the larger male's lungs. The otter bundled up into the warm chamber located in the taur's torso, resting above the forelegs and in front. He eased his arms around his knees, splaying his webbed toes a bit, while his thick tail took up most of the space between his shins that his chubby midsection wasn't threatening to crowd into after forcing his thighs aside.

       Wes slowly scooped up his fore-belly in his arms, cradling the form of the otter inside. He kissed the top of his tummy as he shifted his weight, moving his legs. Soon, he was standing upright on all fours to keep his whole tract elevated, though he did plan to allow the caramel-furred lutra into his forestomach for a while longer. The foxtaur casually walked around the living room, to feel the weight in his gut and his arms gently sway with the motion.

       The lutra was a bit worn out already from all their playtime before he was tucked away. Furthermore, Sean was quickly expending the last of his energy with his fidgety squirming and soft presses with his paws to feel the stomach walls resist and squeeze back down on him affectionately. He tried to stifle a yawn, but it was hard not to hear the little squeak he let out at the end of it.

       The foxtaur smiled fondly and stroked along his foregut. "If you'd like to sleep, I can tuck you into your bed~" He crooned affectionately, rocking his belly tenderly.

       Sean perked up, confused. "How do you mean?" He was fairly sure Wes was in no mood to spit him up, and all the prep to go to bed would be far too much of a hassle to justify that tone of voice.

       Chuckling, Wes pressed his muzzle against his occupied tummy and murmured to his passenger. "What, you've never heard of a taur hammock? It's waiting for you..." Almost on cue, the larger lower stomach let out a low, empty sound of desire.

       Blushing deeply, the otter got up a bit more energy to squirm as his fluster returned. "O-Oh..." He swallowed, before exhaling and nodding. "Y-yeah... yeah I'd like that, Wes..."

       Using both of his paws and his well-trained tummy muscles, the foxtaur reoriented the bundle of otter inside his body, smoothly sliding him along the slick rugae of his stomach until the crown of his head met the valve between the two chambers. He closed his eyes, focusing. He relaxed the muscle with practiced bodily awareness and let out a soft groan as it spread.  His occupant's weight began to carry him through without any more muscular contractions.

       Sean murmured, blushing as his head slipped through a tight passage, much like the throat before. It even had its own second set of lungs, inflating and deflating in a deeper bellows sound than the set above. And down here was where the taur's heart lie, a steady two-step pounding away to circulate blood through the fox's form.

       Wes gently pressed on his forebelly to expedite the transfer, and then let out a soft gasp as that bit of pressure was enough to squish the lutra's round midsection through. Like a chute, Sean slipped the rest of the way through in one squeeze, before the foot paws and tail tip squelched down through the connecting passage. The foxtaur panted heavily, and leaned back to twist and look back at the swell of his lower belly. 

       The otter inside sighed softly, able to stretch out fully, or at least, far better than the forebelly. He couldn't quite raise his hands over his head, but he didn't really feel the need to. He felt himself gently sway, and relaxed. Calling it a hammock wasn't far off... just a lot wetter and warmer than one normally was. He yawned again. The heat, the sway, the steadily growing purring and the mounting rumbling around him were conspiring to help him doze right off.

       The vulpine stroked along the side of his belly lovingly, feeling the stronger juices in the lower belly starting to get to his meal. "Just you relax, and you'll be in bed in no time." He quivered, and felt his lower stomach starting to churn eagerly on the unconscious otter. Soon Sean would be on his hips, and then he could put him to bed in his predscape.