Edgar came down on the afterglow, squishing and squelching through utter darkness. The huge alien's bowels clenched tightly around him, gripping his skin through his suit! He hadn't felt very horny at first, but as he slid through the tight intestines his dick slowly hardened up again. At first, he only heard a faint commotion of men ahead, but the noise became louder and louder, and his arousal returned more rapidly than he could have imagined.
 
Years of fantasies, lewd artwork and erotic stories were not even a patch on the true experience of being squeezed up a creature's asshole. Every second it felt like his round helmet was being squeezed. Every second the tight intestinal walls rubbed up against his boner, stimulating him further. The tiger was actually getting the urge to reach down and masturbate once more, but he was too occupied using his arms to try and keep the digestive walls from cracking his helmet.
 
He was evidently approaching the creature's stomach, or some kind of larger digestive space. The sounds of everyone else came into clearer resolution.. a lot of mixed shouts, yelps and grunts. After a very tight squeeze passing him right through a sphincter, Edgar was reunited with his fellow crew members.
 
His helmet immediately mashed into the bodies of five other guys. The belly of the alien was packed tight and full, a tangle of frantically moving, spacesuited musclemen. Further ahead, he could hear Commander Andrew and Miles trying to control the crowd.
 
It wasn't really helping. Their shouts were muffled by the press of bodies between them and most of the other men. Everyone's radios were broken, and sound didn't carry well outside their helmets.
 
"Push out! We've got to push back toward that sphincter!" Andrew yelled with all his might. The human commander was trapped between the bodies of a river otter and a wolf. Most of them heard and tried to obey, but there was simply no purchase to be had on the wet, slippery, shaking walls of the extraterrestrial's stomach. To make matters worse, some air rushed out with a deep rumbling sound. The huge bolus of hunky space explorers got jostled around again and again, as the humongous creature got its ass off the pneumatube and started walking around. If only they could get outside, they could climb back into the ship, but with each booming footstep the hopes of escaping dimmed and dimmed.
 
An ominous gurgle started up. At that exact moment, through sheer luck, Andrew was slammed right back into Miles. They were pressed up against an edge of an alien's belly, the sun-tanned human and big beefy cheetah. They squirmed together, trying to get the nearby men to push in concert and at least squeeze someone back out of the creature's ass…all to no avail. After maybe ten or fifteen minutes of the exercise, they were more exhausted and no closer to freedom.
 
"Andrew, I don't wanna say this, but... I don't think we're getting out of here," the cheetah stated between heavy breaths. They had knocked their helmets together, able to talk after a fashion.
 
"Me neither. At least the people back home won't forget about us," Andrew replied, trying to lift his own spirits.
 
"We're laying down our lives for progress and exploration, but man, I never imagined this would be my end." Desperate cries from every direction punctuated Miles' remark.
 
"Neither did I. I want to say that we should all go out with some dignity, but there's not a whole lot of that left..." Andrew's ear was drawn in a certain direction. A very familiar young voice was yelping frantically, not as if in pain, but ... like he was having sex. What was the boy's name again? Ethan? Erwin? Something like that. Sounded like another crew member was mounting him energetically… it was kind of hot.
 
Unexpectedly, Miles pulled his human superior into a tight bearhug. Andrew felt those massive, bulging biceps against his arms. He had to admit, the cheetah's masculine brawn was wonderful to feel. He wasn't a slouch himself - the ultimate fitness regime had seen to it that he was quite muscled - but Miles was something else. He was made of powerful curves, like he had a comic book character's physique.
 
Their packages rubbing up against one another wasn't helping his arousal. He'd been at full mast ever since the alien had slurped them up. It was easy to ignore previously, but not now. Their helmets bumped up against one another, but through the glass Andrew definitely felt like he wanted to kiss. In truth, his attraction to Miles was at least partly romantic, but it was started by deep primal needs the human had ignored most of his life. Toward the end of Andrew's college days many years ago, his sexual fantasies always revolved around the fit and athletic boys. He dreamed of steamy locker room trysts with just about every sports team, being gently dominated and penetrated by the big, strong jocks. Especially morphic ones. He never once acted on those notions, of course, but to let a bigger man have his way with him was a major theme of his sex life.
 
Then the mission, and Miles, had come into his life. The burly feline was more than happy to bring Andrew's suppressed fantasies into life. They'd made out in the ship's gym, then right in the showers afterward Miles had stripped completely down in front of the eager human and rammed his enormous shaft in his commander's mouth, blowing a huge hefty load right down Andrew's throat that took three quick swallows to down. The afterplay had been frotting, like what they were doing now. Andrew was of rather average size down there, not much compared to the well-hung cheetah. He'd never known the measurements, but it sure felt twice as long and half again as girthy as his own, through the thin jock-fabric.
 
In the dim light, his officer's package was clearly outlined; it looked like the cat had a thick ten-inch sausage bound in his triangle of jock, resting on top of two round golf-balls to make a lovely, massive bulge.
 
"Well, if we're doomed, let's go out with some fun," the cat said at last, breathy lust in his tone.
 
Andrew quietly thanked whoever had decided their only underwear should be jockstraps. Wordlessly the human and cheetah rubbed off on each other, up and down, dicks growing harder and harder. A digestive fluid started to pool in the bottom of the stomach, but the pair paid it no heed. Things grew tighter and tighter, until Miles' pre was forming a dark spot on his suit above the jock. Andrew was painfully hard at this point, and desperate. In a quick motion he pulled off the glass helmet and took a deep breath of the stomach air. It wasn't so different from the tank air, thanks to leakage from others' helmets. Miles reciprocated in tossing off his own helmet, and the two pulled each other into a proper makeout, one collar dam beneath the other, tonguing frantically as their erections reached a fever pitch.
 
"Please, Miles..." Andrew spun around in his partner's firm grip, going from bulge-to-bulge to bulge-to-ass. Miles took the hint, thrusting up into his commander's asscrack, the flexible spacesuit material easily giving way to the cat's massive male endowment. The cheetah-hunk thrust his penis rhythmically, hotdogging the smaller human's firm buttocks. Andrew bent over, making his butt even more enticing by flexing.
 
Despite the situation, Andrew felt happy as his own sexy subordinate humped his ass. He would die in the throes of passion, and that was good enough for him. Many other crew members were thinking the same way as digestion began in earnest. Desperate shouting gave way to lustful moans as each one gave up on escaping, choosing instead to spend his last moments having sex. Rumbles, churns and burbles started up all around.
 
Soon, Miles was seesawing his cock over Andrew's deep crack, and the humping of the pair's subordinates acted as the backing track to their own, coming from all sides. The most amazing fuck of his life continued for what seemed like forever, squeezed between his lover and everyone else, even as the digestive enzymes rose and rose. The cheetah was good at dragging out sex; he kept himself, and Andrew, right on the edge of cumming. The human edged once, staining his suit with pre. Twice, as the churning of the alien's guts began to drown out some of the crew. Thrice, as the digestive juices started pooling around their own bodies.
 
With the fourth edge, they were nearly submerged. Their tanks had run out of air long ago, and the oxygen in the alien's stomach was rapidly thinning out judging by the pressure alarms beeping quietly in Andrew's suit. He groped to shut off the chirping, and at last, the final act began. Sensing that their time was nearly up, Miles gave up all subtlety and thrust right into Andrew's bumhole with a grunt, using his suit as the condom and the rising liquid as the lube.
 
At last, almost chest-deep in the fluid, overwhelmed by emotion and some hypoxia, the human couldn't keep himself from yelling out.
 
"Keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop." The greatest climax of his life beckoned, the epilogue of his existence. "Ungh!" Even in this cacophony, Miles still obediently followed his commander's instuctions, now almost jackhammering the human. The final crescendo came as the fluid reached their necks and faces.
 
"Nngh, hnngh, grrrh, *grrrraah*!" Words were too much for Miles at this point. His lustful grunts mixed in with his bottom's moans.
 
"Ah, ah, ah, ah! Aaahhhhhh!"
 
Their mighty, final, shared orgasm drowned out every other conscious thought they could've had. Both men's dying cries would be orgasmic moans, as the exertion and lack of oxygen mercifully knocked them out before digestion started to burn or sting.
 
The pattern repeated itself with more or less every crew member, at least the lucky ones. Like a wave, the cacophony of moans reached a fever pitch and faded away, from the bottom to the top. A long *bloooorrttt* drowned out the yelps of the few men left on top. At last, the 50 hotties who'd come to Planet Z gave out their final squirms, and were still.
 
The xenosaur, for his part, would've thought of himself as unbelievably lucky if he were sapient. He devoured such a massive bounty of prey, without having to fight another creature! His crested head nodded as he felt his stomach begin the long process of breaking down the Earthlings for their calories and nutrition. Full of food, he didn't have to worry about anything but sex now.
 
His bellowing mating call rose high into Planet Z's night sky. It ended in a deafening, ten-second-long, spluttering fart.