(18+ CONTENT) A series of kinky fart stories about two best buds in their late 20s/early 30s: Tim, a gay guy with a fart fetish, and Dave, his gassy, straight best bud (and, eventually, roommate).
Due to Tumblr pages not working properly, I'm going to use (as long as the website lets me) this post as the episode list, a hopefully useful way to "quick access" the entire series.
Including the very first episode, there are currently 31 available stories and the list below is going to be updated whenever new ones are being written/coming soon.
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The moment Andrew stepped onto the Fort McCoy barracks grounds, he was greeted by a friendly soldier with an easy smile. “Hey, man, I’m Lieutenant Tyler Sumners. Welcome to Fort McCoy.” After a quick introduction, Tyler learned Andrew was looking for Room 2B and laughed when he realized they were roommates. Without hesitation, he grabbed Andrew’s bags, effortlessly slinging the heaviest one over his shoulder. “Damn, you sure have a lot of stuff in here. What do you have, bricks?” he joked as he led Andrew toward the barracks. Along the way, Tyler explained that the room was shared by four soldiers: himself, Corporal Daniel Smith, Private First Class Lucas Carter, and now Andrew. He warned him that Smith was a bit of a hardass, Carter was usually pretty chill, and both of them were completely incapable of acting like mature adults for more than five minutes at a time. By the time they reached Room 2B, Andrew wasn’t sure if he was moving into a military barracks or a frat house. Tyler led Andrew down the hallway and pushed open the door to Room 2B. “Alright, boys, our new roommate’s here!”
Andrew stepped inside and glanced around. The barracks were far nicer than he had expected. The room had a modern feel, with gray walls, dark furniture, built-in LED lighting, and six bunk beds arranged in three bays along the far wall. A couch and television sat in the center of the room, while a recreation area, dining table, kitchenette, and bathroom extended beyond it. Despite being military housing, the place felt surprisingly comfortable and lived-in. A broad-shouldered soldier sitting in a chair immediately looked Andrew up and down. The moment they stepped into the common room, Tyler called out, “Alright, boys! Our new roommate’s here!” A broad-shouldered soldier sitting in a chair immediately looked Andrew up and down. “Well, well, well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a fresh greenhorn. What’s your name, rook?” “Andrew.” Smith smirked. “Andrew? Sounds like a kid’s name. You look like a kid.” Across the room, Carter glanced up from the couch. “Easy, Smith. He’ll grow into it.” Andrew grinned and fired back a sarcastic, “Fuck you.” The room erupted with laughter. “Oh, look at this newbie with the sharp tongue,” Smith said. “I like him already.” After everyone introduced themselves, Andrew looked around the room and noticed six bunks stacked in two rows of three. The metal frames were covered in military-green bedding, duffel bags, and personal items. “So where’s my bunk?” he asked. Tyler pointed toward the middle section of the room. “Yours is the bottom middle bunk. Right there.” Andrew followed his finger and saw the bed tucked beneath Tyler’s upper bunk. On either side of it were the bottom bunks belonging to Carter and Smith. “So I’m stuck between those two?” Andrew asked. Tyler laughed. “Pretty much.” Carter grinned. “Don’t worry. We only fart bomb each other’s bunks occasionally.” Smith shook his head. “He’s lying. It’s at least twice a week and it’s not just the bunks, it’s the pillows that Tyler farts on more often, like every other day.” Tyler smirked. “Guilty, Look on the bright side. You’re in the safest spot. Nah-uh, Carter says, your under Sumners, he will gas you out every night, that’s why we are on the end bunks. Sumner responds to Carter’s correction with a swift move pulling his head down to his ass and letting a large fart right in his face. PPPFFFRRRRTTT. Aahhh want to keep correcting me guys? Sumners snarky question has both of them turn Silent. Good Sumners says, Andrew set his bags down beside the bunk and began unpacking. He put his clothes in the drawers underneath his bunk, hung up a few uniforms in the locker beside the bed, and started organizing his belongings while the others continued talking behind him. As he worked, the conversation somehow shifted from military training to fart-related warfare. “I’m telling you,” Smith said, pointing at Carter, “the worst one was in Germany.” Carter immediately started laughing. “No way. That one was legendary.”
Andrew glanced over his shoulder. “What happened?” Tyler groaned before Carter could answer. “Please don’t encourage him.” Carter ignored him. “Smith was asleep in his bunk. Dead asleep. So I climbed up there real quiet, leaned over the rail, and let out the longest fart of my life right next to his face.”Smith pointed accusingly. “It lasted like ten seconds!” “More like fifteen,” Carter corrected proudly. You woke me up out of a dead sleep!” “Yeah, because you sat straight up and smacked your head on the bunk above you.” “You deserved it,” Tyler said. Smith shook his head. And says well you deserve this then, then Smith shoves Carters head down behind him and lets out a low sounding PFFFRTT. Carter immediately breaks free and covered his face with one hand. “Oh God.” smith grins and walks away saying yea you deserve that. As Andrew finished unpacking and sat down on his bunk for the first time, Tyler climbed onto the bunk above him while Smith and Carter settled back into their usual spots. Looking around at the chaos, Andrew couldn’t help but smile. He had arrived expecting a cold, intimidating military environment. Instead, he’d walked straight into a loud, ridiculous, dysfunctional family that somehow already felt like home. As Andrew continued unpacking his gear, Tyler Sumners and Lucas Carter remained focused on their video game while Daniel Smith watched from a nearby chair, occasionally offering commentary that neither of them had asked for. Carter glanced over at Andrew’s bunk and grinned. “You’ve got a pretty good view from there, rookie. Front-row seats to all the action.” Smith laughed. “And by action, he means us being idiots.” Andrew chuckled as he slid another stack of clothes into his locker. Looking around the room, he noticed there were six bunks even though Tyler had only mentioned three roommates. “Hey, Sumners, question. If there’s only three of you, why does this place have six bunks?” Tyler looked up from the game and laughed. “Good question. We’ve actually got a fourth roommate named Dylan. He’s on night shift right now, so he’s probably asleep while we’re all awake. You’ll meet him later.” Carter smirked. “Yeah, he’s a real piece of work.” Smith nodded. “A real pain in the ass.” Tyler shook his head, already knowing where the conversation was headed. Despite the joking, Andrew could tell there was genuine affection behind the teasing. As he continued unpacking, he found himself wondering what living here would actually be like. The guys seemed friendly, but they were also loud, constantly joking, and clearly very comfortable around one another. He wanted to know if there would be room to relax and have some privacy when he needed it. Tyler seemed to pick up on the concern immediately. “If you’re wondering whether you’ll get space, the answer’s yes. We mess around, roughhouse sometimes, talk trash, and compete over stupid stuff, but nobody’s going to bother you if you need downtime.” Carter nodded. “Yeah, man. We’re loud, but we’re not jerks.” Smith smirked. “Unless you steal somebody’s snacks. Then all bets are off.” That earned a round of laughter from everyone.
Once Andrew had most of his stuff put away, he sat down on the edge of his bunk and asked what they had planned for the day. It was only eight in the morning, and he assumed they’d be heading to a gym for PT. Instead, Tyler laughed and set down his controller. “Honestly, our PT is usually more fun than that. We do partner workouts, carries, wrestling drills, obstacle courses—stuff where you’re working with each other instead of staring at weights all morning.” Carter flexed dramatically. “I’m basically Smith’s favorite piece of workout equipment.” Before Carter could move, Smith reached over and wrapped him in a playful headlock. Carter immediately started laughing and trying to squirm free. “See?” Smith said. “Perfect training tool.” Tyler shook his head. “These two spend half their time competing and the other half pretending they aren’t friends.” Smith released Carter, who immediately shoved him back, starting another brief wrestling match that ended with both of them laughing. “You want to try it?” Smith asked Andrew. “Come on, rookie. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Andrew shook his head. “I think I’ll sit this one out and just observe for now. I kind of want to see how everything works before I jump into it.” Tyler nodded immediately. “Fair enough. No pressure.” Carter pointed at Smith. “Probably smart. This guy thinks every new person is a challenge.” Smith folded his arms with a grin. “Damn right. Rookies always get smashed.” The room erupted into laughter again. Sitting there watching them joke, argue, play video games, and occasionally wrestle like brothers, Andrew found himself relaxing more and more. The atmosphere wasn’t tense or intimidating at all. It was easygoing, comfortable, and surprisingly welcoming—the kind of place where everyone looked out for one another even while giving each other a hard time.
Sumners gestured toward the empty space on the couch between him and Carter. “Come on, newbie. Crash with us. We don’t bite… much.” Carter patted the vacant cushion beside him. “Yeah, get in here. The view’s better from this angle.” Andrew walked over and sat down between them while Smith watched from his recliner across the room. Smith narrowed his eyes and pointed toward the couch. “Just don’t fart. We’re all on edge since Sumners had Taco Bell last night.” Almost immediately, Sumners shifted on the couch, leaning away from Andrew so that his backside was pointed in Andrew’s direction. PPFFFFRRRRTTTT. Sumners leaned back with a satisfied look. “Too late.” Carter glanced over and immediately held out a fist. “Damn, Sumners. That one had some bass to it.” The two exchanged a fist bump while Smith shook his head. “And here I thought we were gonna ease the kid into it.” Sumners folded his arms. “Consider that my official welcome gift.” Andrew caught a whiff and instinctively covered his nose and mouth with one hand. “Oh, come on,” Sumners said. “It wasn’t that bad.” Carter pointed at Andrew and smirked. “Dude, your face right now.
Sumners nodded toward Carter. A second later, Carter shifted on his side of the couch, turning slightly toward Andrew. PFFFFFFFTTTT. “Ahhhh… whoops.” Andrew leaned back against the couch cushions and stared up at the ceiling while Sumners grinned and gave Carter another fist bump. The two of them then looked toward Smith. A few moments later, Smith stood up from his recliner, took a couple of steps, turned toward Andrew with a mischievous grin, and paused. PBBBBBBT. Then he casually sat back down as if nothing had happened. Sumners immediately held out his fist. “Good one, Smith.” After another fist bump, Carter looked around the room. “The room is officially a biohazard zone.” Smith reclined comfortably in his chair and shrugged. “Consider it a welcome from all of us. To what we like to call Fart McCoy. ”
Andrew finally dropped his hand from his face and fell back against the couch cushions, his head tilted toward the ceiling in complete surrender. He took a deep breath, immediately regretted it, and started coughing. Once he recovered, he opened his mouth to say something. Sumners shook his head with a grin. “That was the most defeated sigh I’ve ever heard.” Carter tells Andrew “Just let it happen, man. The gas always wins.”Sumner adds to carters comment like a seasoned mentor. “First rule of Fort McCoy? Breathe through your mouth.” The room settled for a moment before Sumners suddenly leaned away and let out another PFFFTTTT. ooh- Carter reacted, then sniffed the air and nodded thoughtfully. “that’s the good stuff. Aged like fine milk.” Sumners smiled and high fives Carter. Still staring at the ceiling, Andrew simply accepted his fate as the room’s collective cloud of bad decisions lingered overhead. Sumners stretched comfortably and rested an arm along the back of the couch. “Okay, okay, I’ll call a ceasefire—for now. But at least you took it like a champ. Sumner adds.
Smith chimes in yeah, Most guys start crying by now." Carter adds "Yeah, or they throw up." Still lounging around the common room, the conversation gradually slowed as everyone settled back into their seats. After a few moments, Sumners glanced up at the clock on the wall and pushed himself off the couch with a stretch. “Alright, enough screwing around. We should probably head to chow. The sooner we get food, the sooner Carter’s gut can go to work.” Carter immediately groaned. “You guys are never gonna let that go, are you?” Smith smirked as he stood up from his recliner. “Not until your ass stops sounding like a tuba, buddy.” Sumners shook his head, grabbed his cap, and nudged Andrew’s shoulder as he headed toward the door. “C’mon, rookie. Let’s go eat before Carter preloads his next bioattack. Pro tip: sit upwind of him.” “I’m standing right here,” Carter replied. Before anyone could move, he shifted in his seat and let out a quick PFFFRRT. Sumners stopped in his tracks and looked back at him in disgust. “You’re sleeping with one eye open tonight.” Carter shrugged. “Worth it.”
The group started toward the hallway, but not before Sumners gave Carter a long look. A slow smirk spread across his face as he tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, the kind of expression that made it obvious he was already planning payback. “Keep talking,” he said. “See you at lights-out.” Carter only grinned as Smith shook his head and followed them toward the door. “Ahhh, just like family. Welcome to hell, Andrew.” One by one, they filed out of Room 2B, still trading jokes and insults as they headed toward the chow hall
DaveFarts - Episode 38 “The Long One” [Episode List]
Tim and Todd spend some quality time together.
Meanwhile, Dave is filming some more fart-porn with Greg... and gets a bit competitive about it.
This story was originally posted some months ago. This is a partial rewriting.
POV: Tim
"Well... it wasn't bad, come on." said Todd, clearly trying to be nice.
I appreciated the white lie.
"It was painful." I said, opening the apartment door.
Dave isn't home: he said something about his job, then he'd go straight to the gym and then had some things to do with Greg. The less I know, the better, as long as Greg is involved, as confirmed by our other friends.
Also, he knows Todd’s here, so he basically went “go nuts” to leave us some privacy.
"Welcome back to our humble abode." I said to my guest.
Ted isn't my boyfriend (and he doesn't introduce himself as such either), but we've been seeing each other occasionally in the last 3 weeks, practically since we met at the wedding. We like each other, to put it simply. He's not from Limdale like us, but from a city not far from here, half an hour's drive at most.
I took the liberty, more as a threat, of showing him "the wonders" of our little town, knowing full well it would be awful, but he insisted.
"The riverfront was nice." he said, trying to salvage the situation.
"A glorified sewer drain, but thanks."
Todd had been here since this morning, and he was already making himself at home. He went to the kitchen to grab two beers while I closed the increasingly dodgy door.
"Thanks.” I told him, as soon as he handed me my nectar.
We silently toasted to the worst tour in history.
“Come on, say it: Limdale fucking sucks.”
"Well, I'm from Landale, so thinking that is part of my hardware.” he explained, taking a sip of his beer. "Our towns have been rivals since forever."
"I like how your look reflects what you're saying…” I observed, with a smirk.
Todd was indeed dressed in a vaguely geeky chic aesthetic, looking a bit like a professor. He’s a developer and, like me, enjoys video-editing, but if he'd introduced himself as a relatively young (he’s about my age, around 30) teacher from Harvard, Yale, or whatever Westfork thinks it is nowdays, I would have believed him.
"Anyway..." he said, as we sat down on the sofa. "It's early. It's not even 7:30 PM. So you still have time to fix this disaster.” he joked.
Luckily, I'd already planned something.
"Well, you said you appreciate Italian cuisine, so Capelli's should be right up your alley."
He laughed. "Oh wow Tim, how romantic! Do you also want to share a plate of spaghetti while two stereotypes play us a song?"
"Exactly. Beat that, Landale!" I proclaimed, taking a long gulp of beer.
It wasn't going badly, actually.
Todd might have the "neat-freak" look, so to speak, but he's chill like us.
"I made a reservation for 9:00 PM.” I explained.
"Hmm... good to know…” Todd said, thinking. "We also have time for a shower then.”
He looked at me, with a smirk.
It took me a few seconds, then we lunged at each other, unbuttoning each other's clothes, knocking cushions off the couch, and almost crushing my glasses in the process.
"Are you sure no one's home?" Todd gasped, as I bit his ear.
“My roommate’s busy somewhere.”
No idea what he’s doing.
Probably some super boring work stuff.
———
POV: Dave
BBBBRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPP
BRRRPPPPP
BRRRP
PPRP
“Yeah, all yours, bitch.” I said.
I can’t believe there’s a script for this stuff.
I can’t believe I’m saying such stuff out loud without laughing.
“Oh wait… fifth time the charm!” I said, as I ripped another loud fart on Tom’s face.
Tom, the heroic so-called “bottom” of those videos, even though I’m pretty sure he could split me in half if he wanted to (which reminds me, I gotta ask him for some gym-related advice).
I easily ripped yet another fart while my mind was elsewhere, my dark blue sweatpants sucking at being a filter, so Tom, crushed between my ass and the couch, was sniffing Hell down there.
The set built inside the enormous warehouse was always more or less the same: a small living room, a couch (which we were on), some bookshelves and a fake window.
No fourth wall, literally.
Initially, I was a little nervous about having, well, an audience, but as I quickly realized, no one gives a damn of who you are here, in the best possible way.
“Cut!” Greg yelled.
He's a friend of mine, I know, I respect him, believe me, I love him, but the fact that he wants to become the Hitchcock of kinky porn for some reason will never stop making me question my life choices.
He gave me a nod, inviting me to follow him.
I got up, patting Tom’s chest as I walked way.
“Good job, bro.” I said. He gave me a thumbs up as a response.
We went to his office, also in the warehouse, behind the crew (still focused on the set and what had been filmed so far). Greg immediately sat down behind his desk to check some messages on his computer -I remained standing.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I just wanted to tell you that you're doing great and you're one of my best friends.” he said, almost like a robot, and with the fakest smile I had ever seen.
Okay, something's off.
Greg is a robot, fine, but one who knows how to simulate human emotions at least.
“What did you do…?” I said, my patience being tested.
Greg adjusted his glasses and sighed, knowing very well he fucked up.
"Remember when you said you couldn't stay for more than two hours today?"
"Yes, Greg. I think I said that 119 minutes ago." I hate it when he changes plans at the last second.
"Well... we need you to film The Long One today…”
There's no helping it, he's a mess.
"What the hell, Greg. I got plans with Dana tonight! Can I really go pick her up smelling like shit?!”
“Shit?” Greg asked, puzzled, if not annoyed even. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s Saturday. We do scat on Thursda- wait, Scaturdays… I’m a genius.”
Why is he like this.
And no, I don’t do scat by the way. That’s Liam’s job.
The less I know, the better.
Not interested.
“You’re lucky I can’t go home because Tim is busy with his b-“ I started to stutter like a mess, turning the letter “b” into a long vowel somehow. “-beautiful girlfriend.” Nice save. Well done, me.
Greg was surprised, as if I told him I could fly. “Tim’s dating? A girl? A person? An actual human being?”
“Says the robot.” I scoffed. “Let’s focus back on your idiotic schedule.”
"Dave…” said Greg. "You know I'm an honest man with no scruples."
"I don't think that's how it wor-“
"So I'm willing to give you a 1% extra, if you stay.”
I just looked at him, letting the silence speak for itself, amused by his terrible negotiating skills.
"Have a good weekend, Greg.” I said, and I turned around, heading towards the door.
"What the hell, Dave! Just because I messed up the schedule... again."
I turned back to him, with a smirk.
I didn’t speak, I let my other end do the talk this time.
He asked for a long one, after all.
Yep, one of my massive farts, loud and proud. I had to stretch my left leg a bit to ease it out.
“Oh I see, very mature, Dave!” Greg said, yet I could barely hear him over the sound my blast.
"I can't hear you…” I mouthed, pointing to my ear, as I kept ripping that long fart.
He just stared at me, annoyed by my talent -but that’s why he wants me on the team in the first place. The smell finally hit him, I could tell ‘cause he started coughing. And the fart was still going strong.
“Okay, fine!” he yelled, just as my 14 seconds long rip ended with a loud final toot.
I walked back towards his desk, still with the most annoying smirk you can imagine.
“I’ll pay you double, if you stay.”
“Love doing business with you, bro.” I said, as we shook hands.
While he opened a small window by his desk in a desperate attempt to overcome my manly scent (it wasn't very helpful, since the window still faced the inside of the warehouse anyway).
"So... how’s gonna work?”
While waiting for the answer, I grabbed my own phone to text Dana, telling her I'd be late (she knows I'm helping Greg with something but not, well, this). My girlfriend, awesome as always, replied with a funny sticker and said she'd immediately think of a Plan B, maybe having dinner later than usual if necessary.
"I asked one of your... colleagues..."
"...colleagues?"
Greg turned his computer screen around, showing me a group chat with other "colleagues." I even recognized Liam’s name. The group was called The League of Masters and I’m pretty sure it has nothin to do with D&D. I cringed pretty hard, once again re-evaluating my life choices... but I was also slightly offended that I wasn’t part of whatever that was, which triggered a whole other internal monologue.
I didn't have time to grill him on why he felt the need to ask for second opinions, as if I were the carrier of some unknown disease, that he started to explain himself.
“Apparently the experts here say that actually brewing The Long One requires some serious skills. Some of them watched your clips and they’re not sure you may be ready for it.”
I was just standing there, arms crossed, unimpressed, as I got kinky porn actors going "skill issue" on me, doubting of one of the very few talents I could honestly brag about. My weird-o-meter was also off-the-chart, though I admit the call may be coming from inside the house.
“No that I care… but I’m pretty that if this was a competition, I’d win by W.O.” I stated.
“Getting cocky about farting, of all things?”
“Getting co- you’re the one paying me to shit myself.”
“I told you that’s Liam’s job!”
“Yeah. On Thursdays, got it. The point is… I can’t believe I’m saying this… I’m the best farter.”
We stared at each other in silence, aware of how weird the conversation was, and this comes from a straight guy who farts on his roommate because he has a fart fetish.
“Just… just go nuts I guess…” Greg said, adjusting his glasses, seemingly exhausted. "I already told I'd pay you anyway. I gotta settle for you for now."
Settle?
If Tim was here… and if his kink wasn’t a secret of course, he’d tell Greg to ditch those so-called “experts”, and he’d definitely confirm that when it comes to long ones, I’m the only master this warehouse needs.
What’s that? Ah yes, that’s the sound of my inner voice telling me to strongly reconsider my life choices.
———
POV: Tim
Outside, a crisp, autumn evening was brewing. Or at least, that's what the notification I glimpsed on my phone said, before ending up under the sheets of my bed with Todd, where the cold doesn't exist. We left our clothes scattered on the stairs, around the house, arriving naked in my room.
Todd was surprisingly fit, despite his slender appearance. The hair on our chests rubbed together like flint stones, while our mouths wouldn't detach from each other.
“Do you think they have lasagna there?” Todd gasped, just as my hand touched his cock.
“Really? That’s all you can think of right now?” I stared at him, and he smiled back. “Me too. I love lasagna.”
Is this the infamous #foodporn social media managers always talk about?
“No.” Todd whispered, as I started rubbing him.
“Oh ok, sorry.” I said, stopping immediately.
“No no… I mean…” he tried to say, then explained himself by reaching for my cock. “I never got to… you know… return the favor.”
He started rubbing, slow at first, then faster. “D-don’t m-mention it.” I said, like an idiot.
“Not bad, Limdale…” he said, with a smirk, as he kept massaging my dick. “Let me take a closer look.”
And a closer look he took: he pulled himself down, deeper under the sheets, and I felt a warm sensation down below. A pleasing, warm sens- oh fuck he’s using his tongue. Fuck. He’s twisting it, I don’t know how it’s possible, but yeah, he’s doing it, and he’s also using teeth.
FFFFFUCK.
I clenched my own teeth in response: Todd bites. Not as hard as you may think, but I felt that.
I reached for his head, holding it down there, not that I needed to.
Fuck… bite harder.
Choke on it if ya want to.
The things he’s doing to my dick… holy shit… is this how they return a favor in Landale?!
———
POV: Dave
I stepped into the set, Tom was lying on the usual couch, casually scrolling through some stuff on his phone. I kind of walked over him as I sat on the couch’s backrest, my legs and butt already casting a shadow on his face. He didn’t mind, he didn’t care, and kept his eyes glued on the phone. He’s used to my ass roaring all over him even more than Tim is, weirdly enough, but not as weird as me accepting to showoff my skills like this.
Greg instead sat among his small crew on his cute director chair, because the only thing bigger than my farts here is his ego as a wannabe-movie director. I respect his dream, believe me.
“Alright Dave, ready when you are.” he said, gesturing the cameraman. “Start rolling. This is gonna be a long one, hopefully.”
I could sense everyone rolling their eyes at that.
Yeah, he’s talking about The Long One. Given the context, this is exactly what you expect: he wants a video where the farter (well, me) rips a humongously long fart… yes, it’s that simple. The man doubted my skills, least I could do is prove how wrong he was.
After all, and Tim knows more than any other, I’m basically the King of Farts.
I know, bragging about this is super silly, but you know me, you know what I’m capable of, I gave Greg a nice reminder in his office mere minutes ago, and that was a natural one.
But for this one, I guess I gotta go full berserk mode, so to speak.
I gently lowered my ass on Tom’s face until I felt the tip of his nose brushing against my dark blue sweatpants, then I sat on him full-weight. I then leaned a bit on the side, so I could let my ass breathe some air in.
Yeah, you read that right, though that shouldn’t be a surprise anymore: I can fart on command, and I’m really good at it.
So I started sucking (just as foretold by an ex-girlfriend of mine from years ago when she dumped me while telling me that I suck), the weird sounds echoing in the otherwise silent warehouse, and already sounding like farts being played in reverse, because technically that’s exactly what they are. I don’t think they smell, nor I’m interested to find out, but I assume they don’t, since the air is getting in, you know.
As I focused on being disgusting, I almost forgot I was actually sitting directly on Tom’s face, not the couch itself. I swear that’s because I suck at multitasking, not because I think low of my partner.
I leaned more as more air got in: whatever I was brewing, it was going a big long one, that’s for sure. As big as it was long, obviously.
My natural farts are loud and long, but when you throw my special ability into the mix, yeah this crown belongs to my head bro.
Yes, I’m bragging about this, I don’t care anymore.
I’m getting paid to fart on Tom’s face: we’re way past being weird.
And to be honest, considering that I’m the one blasting my gay best friend’s face on weekly basis, who am I to judge (not that I was planning to)?
One final suck-in and my ass was armed and ready to shoot.
I let Tom’s face enjoy some moments of silence, moments of calm before the storm, before the thunderous blast that I was going to unleash directly on his nose.
“Get ready for this.” I mouthed, looking down at him, though I could barely see him considering that he was under me.
I didn’t have to push hard, because the beast could barely be contained anyway.
The fart was loud, bassy and powerful, so the usual Dave-flavoured rip you all know very well.
But as much as I liked the idea of showing off such raw power, even I knew I had to pace myself, so I wouldn't blow it all at once. Don’t you dare getting me wrong: I adjusted the flow, not the sheer loudness of it; they wanted a show, so I’m giving them one, as gross as that sounds.
Tom was taking it like a champ, like the professional he is, but I could tell he was going to struggle soon as my blast already reached 30 seconds and it showed no signs of stopping.
Well, I’m the one ripping it, I’m the one pushing it out, and yeah this ain’t gonna stop until I say so.
I leaned a bit more, stretching my leg up, easing the fart out, but not too much, ‘cause I want this to last, I want this to leave a mark on Tom’s face… not that kind of mark; I’m a pro, no extra stuff is coming out, that’s Liam’s job… on Thursdays.
There he is, I felt Tom’s face twitching and moving. Whether it was the smell or my ass-gas directly into his eyes I don’t know. What I do know is that we’re 60 seconds in and I’m not even halfway done ahah.
There are weirder kinks yes, and I got my own, but this one… I don’t get the appeal. I get that it can be hilarious, but hot? I’ll never get used to this, but since I’m so good at it why waste it. I’m aware that thinking this probably makes me weirder than Tim getting a boner for my farts, but I don’t care anymore, I never did as you could tell. And my ass doesn’t care either, as I let it roar on Tom’s head as if he wasn’t there.
I lost track of time, but I’m pretty sure around 2 minute passed. I’m not going for the World Record, but I am going to teach Greg to never doubt of my skills again: not when gaming, not when playing basketball, and I guess not when it comes to being the fart master.
I’m chill, but yeah I can get very competitive on some very mundane stuff, even when it comes to shit like this.
I’m sorry Tom is getting the short-end of the stick however: kink or not, my fart going for so long must be too much even for him at this point, the bassy force of the blast making his entire face shake.
Pacing myself wasn’t always easy however, so at times it felt like a working out session: I was sweating.
My sweatpants were also very thin so I’m sure the stench and the sweat were getting unbearable for my "victim" as well, though I gotta say that farts on command usually don’t smell as bad as natural ones, or so I’ve been told. I don’t know man, it’s still air coming out of someone’s ass, so I’m sure it’s not pleasant.
Speaking of which, Tom coughed a couple of times, so I decided to be a good sport.
I leaned more, enough to let my partner’s nose get some actual fresh air… but I didn’t stop farting, mind you. Actually, leaning so much made me lose control of the gas being blown out for a moment, so the fart got even louder as I moved. That made me chuckle like an idiot: I don’t know how people manage to keep a straight face all the time while doing this. I do find it gross too, but once again I’m not judging and I don’t care.
Now the fart was actually starting to lose power, getting less loud every second, and I had to push harder to keep it going. I was satisfied, personally. I’m pretty sure the whole thing lasted around 5 minutes, probably one of the longest farts I ever ripped.
I let my ass crush Tom’s face one final time for a few seconds, pressing my asscheeks against his nose, leaving that "mark" I mentioned earlier, a mix of sweat and gas, then I got up, setting my partner free from the clutches of my unbeatable (and unbearable) talent.
“Cut!” Greg yelled.
I looked at him, sporting my annoying smirk. He replied by giving me the finger, but I could tell he was happy with the result.
I was exhausted, panting, and covered in sweat: if someone walked in and we told him we filmed porn, by looking at the state I was he’d assume we meant classic sex, instead of this whole kinky thing.
“I gotta say…” Greg said, walking up to me. “That was indeed a long one.” he admitted.
I patted his shoulder, almost saying that Tim would agree (I’m good at keeping secrets, believe me!).
Send that to your group chat, Greg.
———
POV: Tim
I buttoned up my shirt while descending the stairs, hoping to find my shoes near the sofa where Todd and I started to... "lose pieces." We were super late because of our... well there's no nice way to say this: because of our mad, steaming sex sessions.
I swear we achieved infinite stamina today.
We took a long shower together, which resulted in one final session obviously, and I had to postpone the reservation to 10:00 PM. Fortunately, it's one of the very few restaurants that stays open late, so there were no problems.
Todd joined me at the entrance, ready and dressed in that geeky chic style that's driving me crazy today (get a grip, Tim, infinite stamina doesn't exist!).
"Well, it's exactly 9:00 PM, so technically we're on time!” Todd joked.
"Or even early, by now…” I replied. "Well, shall we take a walk then? Limdale gets a lot better at night -on the account that you can't see it when it’s dark.”
My date didn't have time to pile on our town being shit, when the front door burst open, even though it was theoretically locked (I told you it's dodgy!).
It was Dave, gym bag slung over his shoulder, white t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants.
"Good evening, lovebirds.” the idiot said, with a mocking smile.
Unfortunately, Todd's presence prevents me from strangling my roommate.
"You must be Dave, from the wedding! Tim won’t shut up about you.” Todd began. "Are you Tim's b-"
"I'm straight.” Dave said, smiling. "Not his boyfriend, he's all yours."
On second thought, can someone strangle me instead?
"I was gonna say 'best friend’…” Todd laughed. "And no worries, I can totally tell you're not gay. ahah."
"...what's that supposed to mean?" Dave asked, puzzled.
Todd took a good look at him, with a smirk, focusing on his somewhat lackluster gym-attire. "You can't be gay... not dressed like that."
Uh, dissing, I'll enjoy this.
"Excuse me?"
"You look like a default skin!" Todd insisted.
"Oh Yeah?" my bro snapped back. "Says… twink Dr. Who. I didn’t know the G in Gay stood for Gallifrey!”
There was a moment of silence, until Dave broke it, smiling.
"Anyway, yeah, I'm Dave, from the wedding. Nice to meet you.” he said, shaking Todd's hand, who meanwhile let out a laugh.
"He's right, I totally look like Dr. Who." he admitted, amused.
"That's fine for me, as long as you look like Tennant.” I said, stroking his chest.
"Well, you two have fun regenerating each other. I'm going to take a quick shower. Dana and I have a reservation at Capelli's for 10:00 PM.".
"Capelli's, really?" I said. "Us too."
"Please don't tell me it's gonna be a double date…” Todd promptly said, then immediately turned to Dave. "No offense, man. You and Dana look super cool!"
I noticed Dave's eyes light up, as if he'd found a precious treasure.
"None taken. I too hate double dates!"
"It's the last thing I'd wanna do after a long day of work!” Todd explained.
"I was just gonna say that!" Dave commented.
"Well I guess it is gonna be a disaster after all!" I told my date. "But come on a double date can't be that bad."
They both groaned, bored and annoyed by my stance on this subject apparently.
“Don’t look too excited about it.” I remarked, sarcastically.
I refused to spend one more second letting those two make fun of me, so I pulled my date outside; and so Todd and I set off toward the restaurant, on foot (it wasn't far).
"I figured it was better to break the ice right away with your roommate." he explained.
"You did great.” I told him. "And don't worry: Dave is a huge marshmallow. He likes you already."
We laughed like idiots about the whole thing.
"I do hate double dates, though…” Todd admitted.
"Dave does too. And so do I…” I confessed. "But it's the only way we can get our lasagna tonight."
Todd looked at me, dead serious.
"Alright, your proposal is acceptable.” he stated. “I guess I owe you a favor.”
As he said that, I felt a slight ache between my legs.
I already know you repay favors in Landale, Todd.
DaveFarts - Episode 34 “Fart Flight” [Episode List]
Dave's stomach gets messy during a flight.
POV: Tim
“This is the last time we do this before dawn.” I said, as we approached the airport entrance.
Dave and I have a flight to catch to meet Dana and our other friends for a long-awaited vacation.
Because of work (and the unreliable airline), we had to cut it down to just today. The consolation is that we’ll spend a good week together instead of the planned 10 days. However, the time (5:00 AM) is really inconvenient... at least for us chronic late sleepers.
Add to that the fact that Dave, although normally a well-organized person... tends to become surprisingly anxious at the airport, because of the check-in, security and, though he won’t admit it, also because of the flight itself.
I don’t mind flying, I know it’s safe. I do agree with my bro when he says that it’s sorcery don’t get me wrong, but I’m able to fall asleep comfortably even at 30.000ft. Dave, on the other hand, while terrified… sometimes he tends to wonder if some random plane noise is gonna kill us all.
“Relax man.” I said. “We’re right on schedule -maybe a bit too much”
“I know I know…”
At least he’s aware of when he’s being unnecessarily anxious. Made funnier by the fact that he’s usually the one who plans this stuff. I can’t blame him: we’re a bunch of travel princesses.
We walked around the airport because, of course, we arrived way too early. However, we managed to check in as planned. Now we have to figure out how to spend the next empty 90 minutes of this hot summer night in the only airport where the air conditioning doesn’t work. It’s not like we weren’t properly dressed (I was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, while Dave a grey one, and black swimming trunks).
Since we departed later than expected, and most people were already enjoying their vacation elsewhere, the airport was quite empty. Of course, we weren’t alone, but sometimes we felt like characters in one of those 28-things-later movies.
The good news is that in the terminal, near our gate, there were plenty of free seats, so we quickly took advantage of them. We put on our earphones, trying to listen to a podcast or some shit like that. However, after just 15 minutes, Dave gave me a gentle nudge to get my attention... as well as to wake me from the nap that was about to claim me.
“I think I’m starving.” he whispered, as he eyed a burger joint not far from us.
I’ve always liked how airports have no rules when it comes to, well, time. It was almost 4:00 AM and yet we could still have a cheeseburger if we wanted to. Well, not me in this case. Don’t get me wrong I love cheeseburgers at any time as much as the next person, but we had a relatively long flight ahead of us, so I’d rather get something to eat (which we paid for by the way) on the plane itself later. Plus, I’m not even hungry.
Without saying much, we simply stood up, put our earphones back in our big backpacks, and walked towards Dave’s coveted food.
We’re not new at eating like pigs in the middle of the night, and Dave’s stomach is remarkably reliable. We sat one some tall stools in front of the counter (it was more of a take-away place) and waited for the guy on the other side to take our orders (well, Dave’s order).
“Fuck I’m sweating.” Dave said, as he checked the burgers on the menu.
“I know right. This airport is a sauna.”
“Which is why I’m asking for an ice-cold coke as well.”
I’ll never be able to drink and eat like this at 4:00 AM, not before a flight at least.
“Are you sure this isn’t stress eating?” I asked, aware of how annoying I may sound sometimes.
Dave just gave me an indeed annoyed look in response. It wasn’t a proper answer, but I took that as “Yes”, even if he probably meant the opposite.
The guy working at the burger joint finished cleaning some glasses then turned to my friend, as if he already knew he was the one actually craving food.
“Hi, good morning, evening, night? I’ll take the Lassen Steak, with your Shasta sauce, thanks.” Dave quickly ordered, handing the menu to the waiter.
The guy wrote a note on his smartphone, rolled his eyes, and then with a boring tone said something he probably said many many times before, without even looking at us.
“I must warn you Sir, both the sauce and the burger you chose are named after Cascade volcanoes, which is a naming convention we use for our spiciest food. If you have a flight to take we highly-“
The guy stopped monologuing, noticing Dave’s own bored expression.
“Whatever. Thanks for choosing us. Enjoy an eruption of flavor etc...”
A rather awkward silence followed.
“I’ll… I’ll just have some water, thanks.” I whispered, fearing the man working surrounded by people on vacation.
—
“This is probably my lack of sleep and poor taste.” Dave said, as he took another big bite of his dinner/breakfast. “But dude this is the best burger I ever had.”
“Truly an eruption of flavor,” I said, sarcastically.
The guy on the other side of the counter immediately blew into a small, noisy party horn, with the most bored and disillusioned expression I had ever seen, then spoke in his monotone voice.
“They pay us more if we do this crap whenever a customer mentions our payoff.”
“Really?” I asked, incredulous.
A moment of silence, a silence broken by a simple, “No.” He then disappeared in the kitchen.
I leaned towards Dave. “I think we’re the only ones who can see him.” I whispered.
“See who?” Dave asked, playing along… hopefully.
—
Finally, after a… I assume delicious meal and some more time spent sleeping to podcasts, the time came to board the plane. Despite being sleep-deprived zombies, we managed to not forget anything back in the terminal, and sat comfortably next to each other near the front of the plane, as planned (with Dave sitting by the window).
“So if we crash-land we’re the first to notice.” I darkly joked, just to mess with Dave.
As I put the backpacks under our seats, I gave a quick look around, noticing that just like the airport, the plane itself was basically almost empty. Man, we truly are late to the vacation party everyone went to, uh?
What I also noticed however is that, unlike the airport, the plane’s AC was working a bit too well: it was freezing, so much so that I quickly took a jacket out of my backpack and put it on, before the plane started moving.
I turned my attention to Dave: him being relatively nervous was oddly cute… and amusing.
“Relax, it’s gonna be fine.” I said.
“It’s not that.” he bluntly answered.
I noticed he was sweating, despite being like the North Pole in here. Before I could ask anything, the plane started moving fast, really fast, and finally we took off, leaving our responsibilities behind… for a couple of days at least.
—
Around 20 minutes in, the flight was going smoothly. I had a book to read, the plane was silent (both people-wise and engineering-wise), way more relaxing than I expected. Maybe we should depart later than everyone every year from now on. I turned to Dave, who was weirdly silent and completely still in his seat.
I noticed he was still sweating. I genuinely worried for a moment. Was he sick?
“Dude… you ok?” I asked.
“No.” Dave muttered, his eyes glued on the bathroom door not far from us.
I connected the dots rather quickly.
“Looks like Mount St. Helens is erupting in there.” I joked, poking at Dave’s belly with my finger.
“First of all, it was a wordplay on Lassen Peak. And the sauce was named after Mount Shasta, the second highest peak in the Cascades.” he said, jokingly looking offended by my lack of knowledge of US geography and geology. “You ignorant swine.”
“That’s why the ghost said it was an eruption of flavor, silly me!” I remarked, sarcastically.
“But yeah, that burger is doing numbers in my stomach.” he admitted.
“And the temperature difference between in here and the airport certainly doesn’t help.” I added.
Dave remained silence for a couple of seconds, then looked at me.
“Thanks, I didn’t even think about that. Now I got one more thing to be nervous about.”
I found that incredibly amusing. I know, I’m a bad friend, and I know how bad this stuff can be… but it’s nothing that a bathroom break couldn’t fix.
“This is the captain speaking. We inform you that the restrooms are currently out of service. We apologize for the inconvenience. We wish you a pleasant flight.”
“Uh… what a on oddly comedic timing.” I commented.
To add salt to the wound, the plane shook a bit (nothing to be worried about), which only made Dave’s situation worse.
“I’ll be 100% honest, because I wanna help, I swear I’m not finding this funny at all.” I lied, about the ‘not finding it funny’ I mean. “Are you going to shit yourself?”
“No bro.” Dave said. “Never.” he kept going. “I can hold it, but I’ll probably need to channel all this energy… in another way.”
Despite suffering, Dave managed to smirk and wink at me, and given what was going on, I instantly realized what he meant. The fact that he’s so chill about it even right now is, well, endearing, but holy shit, we’re flying, please refrain yourself from hot-boxing a fuckin’ plane.
“Not that you mind, right?” he then asked, winking again, which at this point I assumed he was mostly his eye twitching because of the pain.
“Bro please… just resist a bit more.”
“Oh, what happened? Is Tim getting nervous?” he mocked me.
“We’re on a plane. Think of the passengers.”
“We’re literally alone here.” Dave observed.
“No we’re not.”
I turned around, looking at the back to the plane.
“Carl is there. Hi Carl!” I waved at him.
“Hi stranger. I can’t wait to see my wife!” Carl shouted from the back of the plane, many rows behind us.
“See?” I turned back to Dave. “Carl is nice. He wants to see his wife.”
“Just admit it.” Dave said, the smirk back on his face. “You can’t wait to hear what they sound like.”
Dave teases me often, but this was a new low… or high, given we’re also flying, even for… whatever’s going on between us since he found out about my fart kink. All I know is that all this teasing made me rock hard, my cargo shorts barely containing the tent I pitched between my legs.
“Just do it.” I simply muttered.
Not because I was that thirsty, believe me, but because my bro, my gassy bro, already made up his mind. Either he turned whatever he had going on in his stomach into gas, or he’d shit himself. I don’t know how he could even trust his farts in his situation. Then again, I know what he’s capable of: his farts are loud, long, proud, but he’s also very good at controlling them, even their pitch. A musician of some sort, with a very peculiar instrument.
Dave’s temporary smug aura wore off quickly. He massaged his belly, who indeed looked a bit bloated, then my seat began to shake, and not because of some turbulence… not one coming from outside the plane at least.
I instinctively stared at my friend’s crotch area, the black shorts hugging it all nicely, barely containing the silent earthquake my friend was producing. I could barely hear the fart being ripped: as I said, Dave was good at controlling them, and he chose to “dilute” the rip to make it longer, but also way less loud. It made a continuous muffled, rumbling sound, one that only I could hear, being so close to the source. I then turned to my friend’s sweaty face: the smug smirk he had moments before disappeared in favor of a very focused facial expression, his eyes closed, carefully planning every single push. You know it’s bad when even Dave is afraid of his own farts.
Then, the smell hit me. My friend wasn’t shitting himself, but given the stench, he may very well be. Possibly the most rancid, disgusting and nauseating stench that my nostrils ever smelt. Dave’s farts are usually smelly of course, but their bark is usually stronger than their bite, which I like given how much I enjoy their loudness. This time, they skewed in the opposite direction, completely: if this was ripped directly into my face, I would have told my friend to stop and let me go; even considering my gross kink, this would have been too much for me to endure.
Dave’s attitude, however, always guarantee a standing ovation from my dick, and his smugness from before did the trick. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the fart, mind you… but I was happy that I wasn’t his seat, to say the least.
I was grateful that the plane was mostly empty, because that would have made things worse for everyone. Still, I heard the very few people sitting around us, a few rows back, muttering something, making comments about a “something smelling weird”.
My friend’s AOE was inescapable.
I wasn’t even keeping track of how long this fart was, but I could tell you it’s been like 2 minutes, and the muffled noise it made basically became part of the ambience at this point.
Dave finally let out a sigh of relief, and carefully adjusted his position, which made some more of the stench trapped under his ass reach my nose. I then looked at him, and he indeed had the face of someone who was feeling better. He gently patted his belly, then turned to me, laughing a bit, trying to keep it quiet.
“Maybe that’s too much even for you.” he said. It’s like he could read my mind.
“And yet, I am the only one in the world brave enough to sit by your side.”
Dave chuckled. “That’s the spirit.” he massaged his belly a bit more. “Hope you’re ready for your next quest, hero.”
This time, Dave leaned a bit, towards the window, so that his shorts-clad ass was just a bit pointed in my direction. He smiled at me, the teasing bastard, and carefully let another blast out. This time started a bit louder than expected, which made him laugh, and quickly corrected the sound and the pitch, once again going for a long and rumbly approach.
And rumbly it was, other than bubbly… dangerously bubbly I might say.
My gassy bro noticed my concern, muttered “Don’t worry, I’m a pro.” and kept pushing the gas out. I don’t know what was going on in his stomach, but fart fetish or not that seemed like an useful trick. Turning your stomach-ache into gas instead of a shitty mess? Is it possible to learn this power?
I got harder, the view of Dave’s shorts-clad ass and his smirking face (with the fart going on as a bgm) was a always sight to behold for my own kinky ass, dammit. If he keeps going like this, I’m the one who’s gonna need a bathroom, you know why.
But I could still tell that my friend was in pain: I could see how focused he truly was, how drops of sweat slowly ran down his forehead. He was acting smug because that’s how he is, but it was also his way to cope with the pain, and teasing me about my kink always amused him, so in a way I was being helpful.
This fart was essentially a long series of muffled, rumbly, wet-ish toots, each renewing the putrid stench that made my nostrils burn. I was enjoying the view, until a flight attendant passed by our seats, walking towards the back of the plane.
Dave abrubtly stopped farting until she was far enough to resume his eruption, and we could tell that the woman walked faster to outrun the invisible AOE of stench my friend was constantly releasing.
“If you keep going, they’re gonna call for an emergency landing.” I half-joked.
Dave laughed. “Anywhere with a restroom is fine for me.”
The final stretch of this second long series of farts was a longer, slightly louder wet toot, which got even Dave startled. He sat back normally, trapping the remaining stench under his ass, and he looked relieved when he realized that no, that risky toot at the end didn’t bring any… extra stuff.
I tried to focus myself on doing something else, but with the turbulence going on next to me, it’s gonna be impossible.
POV: Dave
Fuck, I thought I almost lost the battle with that last toot.
Alright, as gross and disgusting it is, I gotta give it to Tim: he’s enduring those like a pro. He could simply change seat but I know he doesn’t want to leave me alone when suffering like this. Yes, he’s kinky, but he also genuinely cares about me, this stuttering idiot. There’s only one person who can sit next to me right now, and I’m glad it was you, you kinky bastard.
I do this thing that when I’m nervous I can barely hide it, so whenever I can I try to act smug, but I know Tim can read me like an open book. It’s dawn, I can see from outside the window how high we are… a cruel reminder of how much I hate flying. I’m not scared but… come on. Fuck, it’s like someone just punched me in my stomach, that fuckin’ burger: my seat is going full Pompeii under my erupting ass.
I need to fart again, dammit. I can tell this one is gonna be the riskiest one yet. This is my hole’s event horizon: I have to be incredibly careful when pushing this one out, or else I’m gonna, literally, shit myself. But if I don’t do it, my stomach is gonna blow for how bloated I feel. I took a deep breath, then I coughed: this place smells terrible. Sorry, not sorry.
Oh fuck what was that, why did the airplane shake again. Tim didn’t even notice, the flight attendants didn’t care, come on Dave stop acting like this, it’s the fumes in your stomach reaching up to your brain, clouding your judgement.
Alright, here goes nothing; if I shit myself, tell Dana I love her, and tell my friends they’re weirdos. I closed my eyes, I leaned again just a bit to ease the fart (and hopefully only the fart) out. Tim, I apologize if I’m gonna shit on our backpacks, but this is a risk any man should be willing to take at one point in their lives. At one point, we should all trust our farts, even in our darkest moment.
Damn that spicy sauce is burning my asshole, the fart is just too strong I can’t handle it… and it’s louder than I expected. The airplane shook just as I started farting and that’s it, I almost lost it, I could tell I was unwillingly growing a tail, but luckily I clenched by cheeks (and teeth) just in time to avoid any unfortunate accident.
"I have had it with these motherfucking farts on this motherfucking plane!" I muttered, both me and Tim laughing at me quoting an excellent movie.
I’m in so much pain, I don’t know for how long I could literally trick my body into shitting air instead of the actual thing. And it’s freezing in here, which is only making things worse. If I survive this, I shall write a memoir about it, my greatest achievement: not shitting myself at 30.000ft.
Oh dammit it got loud again, and even my own stench is distracting me for focusing on what’s important: deflating myself with style. So I turned to my kinky friend, trying to act cool and smug, and winked at him. He reacted by giving me the middle finger, which made me laugh, almost making me lose control again.
Whatever I do, this is a battle I can’t stop being focused on, so I closed my eyes again, picturing our sunny destination, and let the fart rumble freely, not too loud, not too silent, just the right amount. My anus was burning however, that fuckin’ spicy sauce, what did I do this to myself. It was a good sauce, I just had bad timing.
But yeah it was very good I should buy some once we land.
Another sudden loud toot: thank goodness the plane is mostly empty, or I’m sure they’d ask me to politely open the window next to me -death seems much better than enduring this stench, and I could tell it was bad, not just because I couldn’t stand it, but even Tim was nauseated by it (and I knew he wasn’t faking it).
“Tim…” I muttered. “Tell Dana I love her.” I jokingly said, as I bravely gave one last push, ending this risky rip with a short, loud toot.
I opened my eyes, and luckily Tim was the only one staring at me, his facial expression being a mixture of awkwardness, amusement and, well, the face we men make when we’re horny.
I sat back normally, and patted my friend’s shoulder.
“I think we'll survive this, bro.”
POV: Tim
That last fart, I could tell, was dangerous. Dave trusting his farts in his darkest moment was incredibly heroic.
“I’m fighting the urge to tell you ‘I told you so’” I said. I must love being annoying.
He just looked back at me, with a smirk. “And I’m fighting the urge to pull your head between my legs and let you enjoy the show front row.” he then leaned closer, and whispered. “Which, by the way, the only reason I’m not doing it is because we’re in public.”
Fucking. Teasing. Bastard. My reaction was pre-cum coming out of the tip of my dick almost instantly: I’m the one who almost made a mess this time.
“This is the captain speaking. The restrooms are now back in service. We invite you to use them, especially considering that we have received complaints about strange odors. We wish you a pleasant flight.”
“I can’t see my wife smelling like shit!” Carl shouted from the back of the plane, a few other passengers nodding.
We did our best to not laugh like idiots at that.
“I guess that’s my stop babe.” Dave said, him looking the most relieved I’ve ever seen.
Dave stood up and, on his way to the restroom, squeezed past me without paying any attention to my presence, through the narrow space between my legs and the seat in front.
He stopped right in front of me, his butt perfectly aligned to my head.
I know where this is going.
He gave a quick look around, making sure he could do one last thing before finally ending this once and for all.
He quickly leaned his shorts-clad ass back and brushed it all over my face. It was wet, but just for the sweat thank goodness, but not any less smelly. Now that was a risky move to do in public.
Dave then walked towards the restroom, but before going in, he turned around, smiled at me and gave me the middle finger. He mouthed “We did it.”, triumphantly, before finally going into the coveted bathroom, possibly destroying it with whatever his stomach couldn’t hold anymore.
I ignored the stench still coming from Dave’s empty seat, put on some earphones, and managed to listen to some music. The airplane shook a bit again, and I’m sure this time it was caused by my friend winning the final battle in the bathroom.
I hate it here! It’s only been a week at this new place but I am done with it already! I came to this place for cheap rent but I can see why now. The housemates are insufferable! I’m stuck here with three ‘bros’ who take the stereotype of being lazy, untidy, smelly, and thoughtless to the absolute extreme. The house is always a smelly mess and they love farting as much as possible. They even have weekly farting competitions! I didn’t think people this gross existed.
Their names are Tom, Zeke and Bobby, but they all call each other by the nicknames: ‘Trumpet’, ‘Sneak’ and ‘Bomb’. Unfortunately for me, I have gotten to know Tom well. Even more unfortunately, I have come to understand why his nickname is ‘Trumpet’.
On my move-in day when I opened the front door, carrying bags full of all my stuff, I wasn’t met with warm smiles or even a handshake. No, I was greeted by Tom’s big butt pointed towards me followed by a loud BRRAAAAAP! The three of them laughed in hysterics after I was hit by that trumpet-like blast from Tom. After calming down they finally introduced themselves, although things quickly became awkward when they realised I wasn’t amused. Were they really expecting me to laugh along with them!
Did I mention that the three of them were absolute studs? My scrawny self felt awkward enough trying to slot in amongst these buff men, let alone being tormented by their gas all day. Out of the three, Tom was definitely the main tormentor. I’ve been thinking ‘Tormentor’ might be a more fitting nickname for him, but his orchestra of loud, windy farts always seem to prove my idea wrong.
Tom will not stop farting at me and he always finds a way to catch me off guard . When I walk into the corridor I find him bent over and ass up BWWWRRRRRT! or when I enter the living room he is on the couch with his legs in the air BRRRRRAAAP! or even when I’m minding my own business in my room Tom swings open my door BARRROOOOMP! Nowhere was safe.
He really gets off on having us all hear his brass instrument of a behind. “Hey bros listen to this.” He said the other day, lifting up one of his legs and letting rip a BRAAAAAAAAWWWWP! Zeke and Bobby find it impressive and always egg him on. “I’ve got some more music for you boys.” I could see the strain on his face just before he let out a BRAAAP-BROOOMP-BWWWWRRRRRT!
Even just this morning I had a run in with Tom. “Why are you always such a downer?” The comment felt belittling. “I know something that will cheer you up.” He managed to get his butt against my leg and that’s when I knew I was a goner… BWWWWRRRRAAAAAAAAAP! I can still feel the vibrations in my bones now. This place is hell.
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This is the best fart story you'll ever read, goon to it, read it over and over and you'll become as pathetic as the victim. ;*
• this is FANTASY i don't condone this behaviour irl it's just a story
This chapter contains: [farts (obviously), light shart (?), cum eating, cock beating, filthy/sweaty BARE ass, crying/dacrophyllia, breath control and home invasion concept]
Follow the Midnight Facesitters as they fully get into the gross routine. This chapter is FILLED with torture of smelly ass, farts and sm more. Enjoy you freak.
Part 3: Midnight Mayhem
Time: 9:22PM
I had been practically microwaved under George and Nicks greedy asses for minutes on end. The process of one of them lifting up to filter my air to keep me from passing out had gotten a little stale, and i'm sure there were as bored as me - despite the stench i had to endure. George's butt leans back, talking to Nick.
"You wanna bare arse him? I've worked up some sweat down there i don't wanna waste, you'll be alright though swamp ass," he chuckles, smacking his friend.
"Yeah it's been a while... holy~ bros cooked down there!!" Nick slouches off my jaw as George does the same, relieving my head from the strenuous tension. Once again, i was a heated mess. Panting frantically, i heave oxygen into my body and cough out the taste of ass. My shoulders weakened in the bruises Nick's knees gave me, and i slump back to the mattress.
"Well- i want dibs then bro," George mutters, crawling around my head to straddle my neck, taking my torso into his thighs again. They barely acknowledged me, just toyed me around like a stress toy to squeeze and play with.
"Fine, swap soon man," Nick sighs as he takes his place back onto my crotch again, and i can't believe i've been bullied like this for what feels like an hour.
"Augh!! Man~ can't wait to get these off," George exclaims enthusiastically, peeling the thick fabric from his warm ass as he strips off his underwear. His waist band collects in his thighs in a tight strip, a few loose pubes gathering in his pants as he flashes his bare butt in-front of my face.
"Aww- i love to hang free," he leans forward to yank them off his legs, his ankles at my head, "I prefer to bare arse them for most the night, keeps them.. quiet." he finally looks back at me over his broad shoulders, smirking an all knowing smirk as he parts his cheeks with his hands. His balls hang loose inbetween his legs, in the tangled pit of his light pubes i see his cock tip.
His butt was simply put - gross. He had some meat on him, bulky thighs that came from a voluptuous ass. Two (almost hairless) healthy buttcheeks, dotted with a little acne on either side whilst his whole rear was coated in a faint fuzz. His crack however, was deep and inviting, striped with light brown hairs that welcomed his pink asshole. Which was a skidded starfish that loved to spew out nasty farts up my brain, sticky and sweet. Now i was seeing it unveiled, nothing was going to distance me and George's rank backend.
"Kiss here." he said firm, sitting down halfway whilst his finger points at his right ass cheek. What a jerk. I know not to fight back anymore, i reach my neck up to smooch his pale ass.
"Good boy, and here," he swaps hands and points to his left cheek. Smooch.
"Here for good measure," he smiles, putting his fingertip on his acne. So gross. I peck it lightly, enough to satisfy him.
"Alright now pucker up, kiss your lips," he kisses his own to demonstrate. Nick had paused to watch, admiring his buddies craft in humiliation. I follow suit and pout my lips, staring at the man atop me.
"Anddd.. finally, one big kiss here," he points to his raw asshole before slamming his huge rump onto my face, confirming me as his.
My face quickly finds the mould of George's ass again, the skin seeping over my head as his manly weight pounds me downwards. Boy, he smelled pretty bad. A classic, boyish musk, a no shower (especially no asswipe) for a few days type smell. So earthy and gunky, and of course, his soft hole manages to pinch my nose, sucking me into his backend. I stare up his back, his cheeks plump and squishy as they rest on my cheekbones as his thick skin disappears into his shirt. George's legs shift to rest forwards, my arms wedged in between his knees as his feet cuddle the back of my head.
"Finally, my throne," he claims, wiggling his ass so proudly it makes me rage. His ass was like rough clay, sticky and bulky; i feel one of his acne spots smooth over my cheek, this was so gross. Eventually, he settles, resting his hands on the mattress behind me as he demolishes my face.
"Who you think has the smelliest arse?" George asks, a hand on his butt, ignorant to how foul Nick's crack was even with underwear on.
"Me dude."
"Oh really? Hmm- i need to up my game, i'm stupid to wash it, how often you let soap in yours?" he rocks back and forth on his hips, folding my torso upwards as he takes me with him, forcing me deeper into his hot gross skin as he leans forward to rest his hands on my chest.
"Never man. It's literally our job to stay smelly, you can't handle it for more than a week. I love myself a shower but, like, i never even get my butt that wet. Closest thing it gets to a wash is when these little shits give me a tongue," he responds, absently flicking my stomach.
This conversation was evil. I was honestly afraid of Nick, more than i am of George, maybe it's his punchy stink - but something about how proud he is to have a perma-swamp ass rubs me the wrong way. Regardless, my dick still pressures into his buttcrack, i just can't help but have a boner, i hate it.
George is quite a second, and i see his head crane down to admire his perfect posture on top of my face. He watches how my struggled, half suffocated breathing tickles his few crack hairs as it blows them up and down. Observing my stillness and obedience under this man's large rear.
"Yeah, maybe you're right. You need to remind me to stop washing. Look how much he's suffering compared to when he's under you. Fuck~ But i don't smell good! I wouldn't smell my own arse for shit- maybe i just need to.." he thinks out loud, still looking at me as he leans his weight back, crushing my skull into the mattress.
"Mmm... if i can't control how much i stink, i can certainly control your breathing," he grins, smushing me beyond belief.
"Careful- don't kill him, i need him too," Nick says, but i can bearly hear him under the titanium ass of George. My nose was poked directly into his pink hole, it pushed back against me before splitting, allowing my nose to enter his raw bowels. He tickles at this, giggling to himself. Regardless, i couldn't breathe. Eventually, he lets up after 15 seconds, satisfied with my torture. His hands stretch his cheeks out, flexing his rank guts.
Even when i'm catching my breath, i could tell Nick was bored. He'd been sat rather quiet on my pelvis, which he had done a lot. I've noticed George likes to have control, he likes being possessive over the victim and has so much fun with it- he doesn't let Nick try as much as he could. I can tell Nick sees this, he thinks his ass is superior, the more swampy and damage inducing. And he was right. Nick carried a warm and curdled aroma George didn't have, and i grimace when he's near. This was a problem to me now, if they were both grumpy i was in for hell.
George flattens me once more, banishing me into his ass. He enjoys himself thoroughly, i don't even need to whimper or thrash around, maybe breath control was a strong kink for him. Why does that turn me on? It shouldn't.
Nick takes matters into his own hands. He scoots back, allowing my underwear to spring up. I hear him laugh.
"Yo whys he actually bricked as fuck. You like that kid?" he asks. I frown into George's butt, i wasn't a kid. But that tells me something about their age, assumably mid twenties or something. Somehow, i was hard, i couldnt help it. I don't have the capacity to cry, the tears pooling in my eyes are immediately soaked into the pores of George's butt, his mounds of skin swallowing my head whole.
Then Nick hits my cock. Making me jump in my restraints, my knees bucking upwards. They both laugh at my suffering. That actually hurt.
"For such a faggot you'd think he would pack less, no? Look at the meat on this kid!!" George laughs, leaning forward to pat my dick back and forth in his hands, temporarily freeing me from his backend in the process as he lifts up. I was weirdly flattered, i didn't know i 'packed' so much compared to what they usually abuse. George rest back onto my face.
"I know but, they often get pretty hard. And remember that girl? She was fucking soaked- i guess he's no different; huh buddy?" Nick beams, happy with his new play toy. For once i give in and whimper, which satisfies them, they need to know i'm thoroughly suffering.
"Whatever, have fun," George mumbles, lifting his bare ass up with his fingers and letting the skin sink over me again. He playfully smacks each cheek, humming to himself. He adjusts back, making sure he's smothering my whole face and most importantly- that i can't breathe. I was annoyed, really. But after he doesn't let up for half a minute, i get worried. Worried i'll die in a guys crack. I wriggle my head, desperate for air as the walls of his fat ass keep me still. George just sits on me, arms folded.
"No~ your okay," he claims, firmly, "What you want some air? Aw okay." He turns away with a grin, as his anus squeaks out a foul bassy fart into my brains. I whimper, wriggling my head back and forth. Fortunately, i get some air into my lungs, weirdly i should be grateful. But i'm breathing in pure methane, absolutely broken.
Time: 9:37PM
Meanwhile, Nick entertains himself with my dick. He tries peeling back the front of my waistband, but it doesn't give in. Muttering to himself, he fishes his fingers through the pocket of my bulge, finding my dick as he threads it out. My dick hits the free air as it begs to be bread. I was so weirdly turned on, this was so taboo. Yet i was scared to cum, if i orgasm, the slight pleasure in getting from this traumatic break in would dissipate, and then i would truly hate it.
My dick now stands awkward out my underwear, and Nick's hand begins to massage me. I let out a slow, long moan into George's asscrack, my breath still scarce.
"That's it huh? Hmm.. jerking that faggot dick," he admires, loving how my underpants ride up and down in his strokes.
George finally leans forward, and i gasp out for air in humiliation and pure disbelief. His stale fart from before had curdled around my nose and attached to my face, leaving a sweaty red stain on my face. He glances back at me quickly, then again in focus, grinning to Nick.
"He's all red.. fuck!" he settles, "too fucking easy."
Nick reciprocates the laugh, and i hear him spit into his hand. "George gimme some spit," he asks, i hear George spit back. He plays with the mounds of his ass as he smiles at Nick, admiring him. George was in the way, or to be more accurate, his ass was.
I feel Nick sit up, squatting to his feet, followed by the wet sound of squelched fingers.
"Your gonna?" George asks.
Nicks fingers return to my dick, lathering it up in spit. "You know it man."
He readies himself, as i feel a warm mouth like texture kiss my tip. That's when i figure it out, and i squirm once more, then giving in as i remember how powerless i am. Nick was going to ride my cock. He pushes very slowly, not used to being fleshed out.
"Ah~ i got it, i got it.." he mutters, a hand on my knee clenching hard.
My head throws back. His ass was warm and fleshy. It tickles my length to the base as he sits on my dick, it disappearing into his manly cunt. Moaning hoarsely, the boys share an impressed chuckle, and a quick high five. George then doesn't think twice to smother me once more, flattening my face back into his crack, the skin was familiar with my face now, it was hot and slightly damp – his crack pubes darkened and swirled around his hole.
Nick was squatted on my dick, his gross asshole swallowing it as he sat further down. He enjoys himself, taking painfully long to come up and down on me, his hands rested flat on my stomach.
"I cant lie George, he's big," he sighs. I bite back moans, the sensation on my dick heating up to my stomach. But i can't help it.
I then come far up his anal cavities. I didn't know i had so much, but my waist spasms as i plough into his ass with a weak moan into George's hole. I feel the liquid try to run down, instead it begins pooling at my tip. Shit. I was so easy.
"Dude, he just came. No bullshit." Nick says, in slight disbelief, standing up on my bed. George doesn't have to be told to get away. When he does, his ass makes a sticky sound against my face, like the peel of a sticker.
They swap. Nick turns over me with a clenched ass, now facing George, who has a foot on the floor and a hand on my oozing cock whilst he watches his friend.
"No... please," i beg, my lips parting after not talking for a while. Nick just laughs, sonically, his knees brutally hammer down onto my shoulders in a rush, ouch. And i get my first glimpse of his bare mucky ass. His thighs were worryingly large, streaked with crimson stretch marks that hid behind tight, fuzzy curls of pubes that pathed their way to his rank crack. Which was, indefinitely, much darker and pube heavy. But they couldn't hide his kissing asshole that leaked my own cum, and i readied myself for whats to come next.
Spreading his cheeks, he rests himself on top of my mouth, his weight forcing my lips apart to welcome his gunky, bare hole.
"Oh i've been holding this one in a fucking minuteee-" he doesn't get to finish before spewing a bubbly and everlasting fart down my throat. In the process, he sputters the cum straight into my mouth, flying against my cheeks in white clumps as the residue oozes out his hole.
George howls in laughter, smacking his hands. I cough and slurp up the mess, tasting faint mixes of shit in the process. I tasted the fart too, it felt thick and smoggy on the way down. I honeslty had no words. The more still i stay the more i can forget this is happening to me.
The mattress gives way once more as George climbs back on the bed, i think anyway. Whatever he's doing he's at my penis again. It had gone limp, but still dripped in cum. His large hand steers it towards him, and he squeezes the final bits of cum out me; slurping it up with his lips.
Time: 9:52 PM
Nick's ass fucking stunk. I felt a little sick. It was so bad i honestly wish George was back on top of me. His ass carried a musk of such putrid and grim air. The pubes that masked onto my face didn't help either - they gathered his sweat and funk and plastered it into my skin. Gosh, my breath is gonna be foul later. I feel his hands rest on my chest, before he sits up to grind his juicy rear over my face, bullying me. Back and forth the sound of sweaty ass against my face fills the silence as i accept my brutal fate of death by ass.
It's only when i start crying he stops, looking back at me with only the slightest sympathy.
"Awww buddy, that not nice? Here," he says, collecting his rotten underwear, and dabbing my streaming tears. I sob, so hard. "Stop fucking crying, god."
"I hate when they cry, such a mess," George paws his way up my body to sit at my side, "Almost makes me feel a little bad too, yeah i hate the cryers."
They were so awful. Yet i pull myself together, wanting Nick's damp underpants out my face. He throws them away, climbing off me to the floor. Sitting bare ass on my carpet, he takes a minute on his phone, it was getting late.
George takes this opportunity to mount my face once more, this time face-sitting me differently, thighs around my ears as his cock rests flat on my face. He smiles down at me, admiring his work - that being my ruined state. His thumb comes to my chin, wiping cum off me and licking his finger, cleaning me up. George is a true sadist, it seems, as he begins slapping my face with his limp cock, not hard, but playful. He stops to continue looking at me, he was really suffocating my neck with his ass.
Then, like a loose snake, his cock begins growing by itself, then falling off my nose and into my cheek.
"Sorry, just thinking about how this is going in your mouth by tonight, i promise you that." he says.
Yeah, that made my stomach flip.
George slumps off me, an arm resting on my head board as his bare hairy legs rest on my chest. "Alright mate i'm gonna use your bathroom, need a fucking dump. Nick. Watch him for me," he orders Nick, resting his head up from the floor. George smacks my chest before stepping onto my carpet.
"Your gonna take a shit in his bathroom?" Nick scoffs, chewing the hem of his shirt.
George looks back, standing bottom naked in my room with a hand on the door.
"Yeah i'll just find it, better a bathroom than his mouth. Watch him." he says with a loose smile, leaving me with the hairy beast.
Nick scrolls on his phone a second bedore turning it off, resting his head back onto the mattress, "Alright," he says.
Without making eye contact, he stands up, climbing on top of me once more, now sitting on the middle of my chest, his bare ass hairy and uncomfortable. This was a sight: his legs spread like a spider to reveal his folded stomach and disgusting privates. He was so heavy it hurt. God i hope George wipes before he comes back.
——
This one was pretty long yall 😵💫😵💫
WOW i love this story!!
I'm thinking of maybe 2 more parts of this? I'm trying to get through the entire night somehow, we will see.
If you guys really like this series i can try figure out a way to make some kind on spin off, new characters, another victim, new location?
Speaking of, next chapter we meet a new Midnight Facesitter, can you guess what he'll be like?
You didnt mind when ur mom started dating the spanish latino teacher, he was fine, but when they decided to make it oficial and move together, things changed.
Turns out now you had a mexican Big-step-brother, that was as Big as his father but his body size didnt match his brain size: he was dumb asf.
He barely pass his tests even when his dad was a teachar, he belched at the table and walked all over the house saying "bro" and "wey", in briefs, cause "a latino sausage needed Freedom" and cause "farting that way felt way better"
And he really meant. His farts were loud, long, and worse, smelly. The stench imprignated every room he farted on. And you shared room...
Didnt take long Until all your room and even your clothes smelled like his gas. Didnt take long until everything you were able to smell were his stench.
Your friends were excited, couldnt believe how hot your new stepbrother was, looked like a porno actor, with that great natural tan, those big muscular arms and that perfect ass, how little they know, the only thing he used that ass was for...
PRRRFFFFTFFFRRRRTT
He farted while you and your now-stepfather were having dinner.
"Those ones are real protein farts, lil bro, you know why?"
He said proudly
"Cause we eat real protein" said while finishing his beans and meat "Look"
He bend to one side and farted again, loud and proud.
PRRRRIRRRRRRTTT
You could swear you saw the chair seat vibrate under his ass.
"Bet your ass those white boys and his protein shakes cant fart like this"
He was right tho. Not even locker room stank as much as his "creations" - as he proudly called them.
Worst part was when the smell hit his father and instead of scolding his "little boy", he looked around to be sure your mom havent arrived and then
"HAHAHA, YOU LITTLE CABRON"
He laughed while waving the fart away.
"Im glad, You don't sleep with me anymore, poor of your hermano tho, you double cooked those frijoles"
The step brother just smiled proudly.
This was gonna be a long night..., but you had to get used to it, that was your new life now.
Note: Guys I was on a not so intentional break (not enough free Time With work, plus this blog Is a hobby writing not the priority writing one) but wrote this this morning for you, real fast.
hi guys, my names tyler and i’m new to being open about my fart fetish, i mostly closeted myself for fear of disgust and judgement. which i’m sure a lot of you understand.
I will be sharing stories from when my ex used to rip ass in front of me. This is the introduction post.
i remember when i told my ex about my fetish for farts for the first time. it was when he farted in front of me for the first time ever, actually.
for context, i am in a wheelchair and have cerebral palsy.
i remember we came back from his parents place from having dinner with them. i was on his computer changing his password for him on some streaming service. i had told him in the past while knowing him it’s okay to fart in front of me, i wont judge as i am a gassy person myself. he kept that in the back of his mind for what im about to tell you.
as i finished changing the password for him, he came up behind the chair i was sitting in, towering over me, as he leans to kiss my head to thank me, he rips the loudest, semi-long fart and begins to laugh hysterically. at that moment, i feel my dick starting to get aroused so i quickly adjust myself when he’s still laughing, almost in tears from laughing so hard.
surprisingly, it didn’t smell at all. we laugh together, then after a few minutes i told him i needed to tell him something, but im really scared to. he then transfers me onto the couch with him and reassures me that i can tell him anything without judgement. i then took a deep breath and confessed about my fetish, almost like im rushing to get it out, saying it really fast. he holds my hands and asks me to slow down, so that is when i told him, “i have a fetish for guys farting and i’m just really scared for being judged. you’re the first person i’ve confessed this in real life to.” he then hugged me and began to ask me questions.
“what is it about farts you like?”
i then told him how it’s mainly the sound for me, as i wasn’t comfortable with smelling or face-sitting, don’t know if i still am or not yet.
he asked me to give scenarios and situation examples, so i pointed out what he just did a few minutes prior was very hot and arousing to me, him leaning his butt to one side when sitting, feeling him fart as i sit in his lap, farting in the car while driving, him trying to get my attention to hear him fart, holding in farts for when we’re alone in public, that kind of thing.
he then hugged me and smiled and thanked me again for expressing myself and reassured me that he doesn’t judge me at all. as i begin to let go from the sweet embrace, he holds me tighter and says, “ready?” he says quickly before letting out a muffled fart on the couch and then gives me a kiss and wink before the smell hits and we both laugh in disbelief (lolol)
i then became aroused and we had sex.
in the course of our relationship he would do the following:
- would fart openly when he had to and would blame it on me, even when his best friends would be over, jokingly blaming them as well. especially when gaming online, with his buddies.
- would cuddle me and fart every morning to make sure i felt it and heard it. sometimes it would lead to humping and farting also.
- would publicly fart in isles when it would just be the two of us and jokingly blame it on me.
- would fart in the car, often when entering and exiting.
- sometimes he would jokingly fart in my face, laugh and then feel bad and kiss me and apologize.
like i previously stated, it’s mainly the sound for me that arouses me, but now that i’ve been reading a lot of other posts and seeing a lot of more fetish content on other socials, it’s got me curious and open to the idea of fart-sniffing / face-sitting. it’s still a lingering feeling of curiosity though. but i would be open to at least trying it one day, i think.
i miss him and his farts to be honest, but i know ill find someone just the same, maybe even gassier than him.
so this concludes the time i first opened up to my ex about my fart fetish. :)
So this is turning out WAY more romantic and self indulgent than I planned. Lmk what you think cause im 😳 blushing at myself rn.
This level of daydreaming is normal and healthy, right?
Been sitting on some thoughts about a gassy Alex, so I thought id finally share them. This isnt a coherent plot or anything, just my imagination going in roughly chronological order.
Warning! Contains fictional fart imagines about a real person! Dont like? Look away!
Alex is definitely your stereotypical guy when it comes to fart humor. He thinks theyre hilarious, if a bit crass. The key part here being that hes actually *incredibly* shy about his own farts. He hides just how gassy he is unless hes alone, or already been cutting loose with some friendly encouragement.
This is actually the exact scenario in which you first witness his secret gassy talents. A party of some kind, long after 95 percent of the attendees left, leaving only you, him, his closest bros, and maybe their dates. He wouldnt have started the fart jokes, one of the more shameless friends would have gotten everyone else going. After a few minutes of them joking and laughing and pranking eachother ("Fire in the hole!", "Pull my finger!", "Bet you cant do better than this!"), probably some light teasing of him as well trying to convince him to participate, Alex would finally blow the competition away. Literally. His shows of gastrointestinal prowess would be loud, boisterous, and effortless as he sent his friends and the rest of the remnants of the party into hysterics.
Stories would start to flow from his friends of just how insane his farts were all his life. Shocking to all who were there to listen. The time he warded off a bully with nothing but a well timed rip. The time he made his friend's dog yelp and hide for the rest of the birthday party one year. The time he covertly delayed a test in school by making the classroom so noxious the teacher had to go home for the day, giving everyone an extension.
All these stories known only to him and his bestest few friends. And now their dates. And now you. The other dates were doing the typical "Ew!" and "Gross!" while laughing along. You of course, were overjoyed and incredibly aroused that this hunk of a man you met a week ago had such gassy talent hidden away. (Who knew he could make music from both ends?)
The final story doesnt finish however, though only you notice why and how, since youre the only one actually listening and not losing their mind at the simple mention of a fart.
One of his friends starts a new story between fits of laughter, somethign along the lines of: "And-and then.... *laughter* there was this one sleepover where Zane and - *more laughter* Zane and I had the bright idea to try this fucken..... trick we saw on the inter-". Your ears perk up because you know exactly what hes talking about, and so does Alex. You watch as, with a swiftness you havent seen from him before, Alex plants his jeans clad ass directly in the face of his friend, cutting his story off short, and rips the gnarliest most boisterous fart of the night directly in his poor friends face. Everyone is sent into an uproar of laughter once again as Alex and his friend struggle for dominance on the floor, now wrestling like idiots. Alex wins, of course, not without the help of his gym routine and a few more well timed guffs.
Nobody else is privy to what exactly just happened. They dont really care, of course. Alex does however. You can tell because his face is shades of red you didnt think possible to achieve by human skin. You can tell that he knows that you know. He doesnt meet your gaze for the rest of the night, wich admittedly doesn't last long. His friends are out of gas for their little party trick (though Alex isn't, not that he'd admit that). Everyone goes home, and you and your date approach his car together.
(ignore that this isnt at night)
Like a gentleman, he lets you in the car first. He's still blushing. You sit in the passengers side seat alone for a touch longer than youd expect to be normal, though you cant see what could have held him up. He opens the car door and as hes sitting down, a loud, ripping, and wet sound comes out of his ass as he sits.
"Was saving that for the grand finale, but everyone left before we got there. Looks like you get a front row seat." he says, giggling and avoiding eye contact. You giggle along, youre not suddenly above thinking farts are funny just because you also get off to them, though your gaze never leaves him. He gets redder yet and sits in silence for a while.
"I know its only been like a week, so sorry if" he gestures to the house and then to himself "all that was too much. Just got caught in the moment." his smile has faded as you can see the defensive self conciousness take hold of his face.
"Oh not at all." you say to him, never breaking your eye contact or your slight, coy smile. "In fact nothing you did tonight turned me off from you at all."
His face eases, which makes you smile more. You both notice the smell from his last fart for the first time, though only he reacts to it with a laugh, fanning the air, and a slight "Sorry about that."
You go in for the kill. "It actually had the exact opposite effect, I would say." This makes him break out of his embarrasment and helps him make eye extended eye contact with you for the first time in two hours. You see his smile half fade into a look of confusion, as he considers your words. You decide not to spell it out for him yet. He looks you up and down.
He notices how youre leaning towards him over the middle console of his car. He notices how youre still smiling at him like you have been for two hours. He notices how you *didnt* react to the smell he just released into the car not 3 minutes ago. His smile never fades, but you watch as he starts to put the pieces together in his head. You dont think hes completely got a grasp of just how ravenous you can be, but does seem to get that you arent like most people when it comes to farts. His face shows no signs of disgust or disapproval.
It would be him who breaks the trance of being lost in each others eyes. He tests his theory on you with another fart into his car seat. Closing one eye to push harder. This one is smaller, like someone doing a tiny raspberry with their lips. (though you are keenly aware of which pair of lips this one came from). Neither of you react openly to it, confirming his theory. He leans in and kisses you, sweet and tenderly with his hand on your chin. (lets say this is your first?) The kiss goes as long as you both want it to, because it feels right, like butterflies in your stomach, like you both are gonna be seeing much more of each other.
"Lets get you home." he says, sweetly, smiling bigger than youve seen all night.
~~~~~~~~~~
After a while, you two would have been on a few more dates. Very romantic though not too extravagent. Local diners he has childhood memories of, seeing movies that would be dealbreakers for both of you (if he doesnt like rocky horror, throw him out). It's been roughly 2 months of seeing eachother since the party, and no you havent had sex yet (hes a good christian boy, remember?). Neither have there been anymore gassy displays of his talent, outside of the occasional slip up that he jokingly denys, or fart during his sleep after hes passed out during the 20th episode of Hotel Hell (INSANE show btw).
This changes, however, the night he takes you to a bowling alley.
An all night bowling alley with an arcade and a skating ring. Not prohibitively expensive either, which makes how long it took you two to go here a crime, honestly. A triple date with two of his friends you met at The Party™, though they wouldnt be participating in the gassy antics that would ensue.
Skating was first, though you both quickly realized you are shit at skating, making it a hilarious but short lived endeavor. Thankfully no injuries, other than to your ego. You six decide to start bowling. Just enough people to fill an aisle, and just enough people to avoid needing to stand up and sit down so close together to make you want to die. The night was going perfectly and it had barely even started.
Not to mention, Alex was looking *particularly* nice in that outfit. Short sleeves show off his big arms and small tattoos. He had mentioned wanting to crop it himself since he had been growing more comfortable in shorter shirts. You find yourself wishing he had before tonight. Those jeans he was wearing, though, were what was really driving you crazy. You had never seen a pair fit someone *just so perfectly* before, though it wasnt crazy enough to be drawing the attention of everyone in the establishment. It was a perfection that only someone with a habit of oggling at his behind would notice and appreciate. You find yourself wishing his turn was after yours, as everytime he gets up to bowl you end up so distracted you only barely realize its your turn already. How anyone let someone like you in public is beyond you, truly.
You dont think you are alone in this, however, as you noticed that Alex has been looking at you with eyes youve only rarely seen him allow to be obvious. Whether its intentionally obvious, youre not sure. What you are sure of is that you are not the only one who appreciates the outfit you picked out today.
Time for a small tangent: His apprent overwhelming desire is suprising to you. Though you two havent had anything resembling intercourse before, you havent exactly been prude about sex or its related topics either. Neither has there been any sort of agreement, implicit or otherwise, about waiting for marriage for that kind of thing. You and Alex have shared many an intimate detail and moment together; stayed the night with each other, shared a bed, gotten back pimples he cant reach, etc. You were letting these moments come naturally whenever they do. Especially after the interesting undertones of what was essentially your first real date, you wanted him to go at his own pace. (Also considering that you have had a few sexual partners and even shared this information with him, minus the gory details. His omission of any of his has caused suspicion in you that he has not had any.)
The game goes on for a long while like this, considering theres six participants. Eventually it becomes obvious who is going to even have a chance at coming out on top, Alex and his friend Zane, though you are outdoing even your own expectations by coming out in a solid third.
Halfway through the second game, Zane's date had gone to the bathroom and the other couple had went to the food court to get refreshments and another pizza. Zane gets a spare and taunts Alex with his assuredly very macho display of bowling prowess.
The tv screens indicate its now Alex's turn, though at this point nobody needs reminding of the order. He grabs the dark red bowling ball he picked out before the first game, claims he "doesn't even need bowling shoes to do better than you, Zane" and bowls down nine of the pins with a flourish.
"Lets see if you can do at least as good as me then, knuckle head." Zane says, earing a scoff from his friend. You see a single bead of sweat rolls down his forhead, on the side of his face only you would be able to see from your angle, while he waits for his ball to return. Clearly theres something else on his mind.
"Watch and learn, amateur!" he says as he walks up to bowl, rather too swiftly. He loses his footing and falls forward, thankfully not too spectacularly. The fall however was not the problem. A loud, fluttering, and wet fart explodes out of his ass. It goes on for about 5 whole seconds as Alex's face takes on a shade of red you know all too well.
Either Zane doesn't see his face or doesnt care much for public humiliation (he was always more comfortable with these kinds of things) and says, "Yea yea yea, gasbag we are all very impressed with your mastery of the force, now hit the pin!" Alex swiftly dusts himself off and (much more carefully) bowls down the last pin. Hes put on a normal face, but you see right through his facade as he sits back down on the bench mext to you. "You know, Alex," Zane continues, "chemical weapons aren't allowed in bowling."
"Ohh like you would know, Mr. 'I've Read Every Rulebook on Bowling Ever'." your date retorts, his voice unfaltering to everyones ear except yours. "Its your turn, by the way." he says trying to move on from the moment.
When you go up to bowl, you cant help but smell it. Not too horrible, but not ignorable either. Just like that night two months ago. You bowl, completely averagely, and return to a new pizza and drinks brought back to the table. You sit next to Alex who has suffieciently dodged the moment he desperstely didnt want, in public no less. You place a hand on his thigh as he continues previous conversations with the others. You squeeze tight enough to hopefully relay a twofold message. Reassurance, and also desire.
The game ends, Zane taking first, Alex second, and you third. Exactly as you expected. You all decide to try out the arcade. Most of the games are two or one player, meaning you will get more alone time with Alex.
"Sorry about that, earlier." he says, while you are trying a game that seems to be an off brand Galaga, "Im not lactose intolerant necessarily, but pizza kind of always does that to me."
"You know im not bothered by that, sexy." you say taking your full attention away from the game and giving it to him. He blushes again at your boldness and comfort in semi-private public. The game over jingle plays and the game prompts you insert another credit.
"R-right uhm, lets go try out this game!" he manages to stammer.
He leads you to a basketball game on the back wall of the arcade, where most of the older and more dejected games reside. "I'm crazy good at these." he claims.
"Oh really? Cause im dogshit at basketball." He inserts a credit and looks back at you with a coy smile.
"Well then, watch and learn." he says, almost a whisper. The callback to 30 minutes ago giving you slight chills.
He proceeds to play the game perfectly, not that these games would be hard for someone with even a slight grasp of basketball related skills. Swish, swish, swish, over and over for 2 and a half of the 3 minutes he is alloted.
"Ope wait," he says as he squats slightly, not looking at you, focused entirely on the game and winning. A high pitched airy fart is released as he throws another basket. 15 seconds are left. "Waitwaitwait" he bends over and backs his perfect ass onto your hip. He farts for a solid 10 seconds, directly onto you. Rumbly and low and so *long*. He makes one more basket. He made the high score, even with 'wasting' 10 seconds farting on you. A modest amount of tickets are dispensed as he turns around you, beaming his perfect smile. Not a single hue of red to be found.
"See! I told you!" he seems proud of his display of mastery over this silly arcade game, its incredibly adorable. "You didnt doubt me, did you?"
"If I did, you definitely proved me wrong." You arent sure of what else to say. This is the first time hes farted on you, let alone *near* you, completely without inhibition. You don't think youve ever been more attracted to someone. "Any other hidden talents you wanna show me tonight?"
"Oh, plenty." he says with a wink, "Lets check out a few more games first." He gasps, making you jump. "Is that MARIO KART?"
And hes off. Leaving you in his gas cloud, assuming you are already following. You decide to stay put for a second, taking in his smelly work. He was right, pizza sure does something to him. You cant say you aren't a fan though.
You catch up to him a few moments later. You would have lost him if he hadn't stuck his head out of a nearby enclosed booth. "There you are! Get in here, i wanna kick your ass in the best racing game ever made."
He pulls you into the two person booth. Its dark, and completely black on the inside. Very small windows to kind of maybe see the game thats being played from behind, and thick colorful curtains that offer more privacy than you were expecting. The seats are sticky, keeping in line with nearly every surface of this place. You also cant help but notice that it is remarkably soundproofed. The loud and constant sensory overload of the arcade and bowling alleys are significantly muffled in here. Theres also a smell here that you hadn't noticed outside the booth, faint but noticable. He didn't already,,,,, did he?
"I call Mario, hes my main." You ignore the irony of him claiming a 'main' in a casual party game like this, and lock in Yoshi. "Bro Yoshi is so lightweight, youre gonna get knocked around the whole race,"
"Then I simply just won't get hit. Easy" you claim with a comedic level of confidence.
"We'll see about that then," he says with a pause, "Smelly."
"Oh very rich coming from-"
"Im hitting start!" he cuts you off with a shit eating grin. He is going to be the death of you. Tonight if hes not careful.
The course intro plays revealing the ranch level with the cow obstacles. "Wont get hit, right." He says. Something about his demeanor is subtly different now, though you cant place what exactly. You recognize his master plan when the countdown starts.
On 3, you hear "Oh shit, wait" and you turn to look at him, about to say something witty surely.
On 2, he's lifted up the leg that was touching yours and scrunches up his face in full concentration. A rumbly fart vibrates the seat and warms up your thigh.
On 1, he continues, but gives you a knowing looks that makes you melt.
On go, hes done and already gotten a lead on you. He was getting the timing on the start boost the whole time. He was distracting you. He races with a shit eating grin that erases any doubt in your mind. He knows *exactly* what he is doing.
When you finally start participating in the race, a couple seconds in, you almost immediately slam directly into a cow obstacle. "You just wont get hit huh?!" he says to rub salt in the wound in your pride.
"Well its not fair when you-"
"When I what?" he cuts you off, daring you to admit whats going on. Daring you to call this teasing what its is. Not just a hunk of a man playing with his farts in front of his date, but a sexually charged show of acceptance of your kinky desires, and an impressive show of gaseous skill. Like a peacock. But, you know, with farts.
You concede, deciding you rather like his teasing side and dont want to 'pop the bubble' of sexual tension just yet. At least you hope its sexual tension.
"Chemical weapons arent allowed in Mario Kart either, you know. Theres not a whoopie cusion powerup." you carefully probe the boundaries of this little game you seem to be playing together. Not the videogame, the other more exciting game between just you two.
"Well maybe they should add one, then, just for me." he proclaims. A brief grunt, and hes making the bench rumble again. "Though maybe that would just be redundant."
Needless to say, he kicks your ass. He takes 1st and you claim a very solid 6th. You scoot yourself even closer to him and wrap your arms around his middle, starting to take up his own personal space. "Why are you taking your hands off the wheel? Theres 3 more races."
You give him your best 'i need you carnally' eyes, "I'm feeling too distracted to participate, though I wanna see you smash these CPUs that someone decided to put on the hardest difficulty."
"Are you sure? we can always play another game or call it a ni-"
"No." its your turn to cut him off. "I'm really ok being right here with you. I'll let you know if that changes."
A small pause from him, his breathing slightly caught in his throat, "Ok, we dont have to go anywhere. But here, lets get more comfortable."
He leans forward and lifts up off the seat. He gives you that same look he's been saving only for your eyes all night. You realize what hes asking.
"Good idea." you say as you slide under him to let him sit on your lap. Hes not too tall so you can still see comfortably over his shoulder, though he does weigh more than you so its a touch uncomfy. You don't care though, since his ass is sitting directly on your crotch. (Now, if youd like to imagine yourself having a phallus, there is no universe where he wouldn't immediately realize how hard you are.)
Your arms are still wrapped around his waist as he starts the next race with a "You're going down, Toad." Your racer remains stationary at the start, getting hit by shells and other racers every time they drive by. You notice, with your hands in closer proximity than they've ever willfully been to his crotch, hes turned on too. *Incredibly so*. Though his mannerisms rarely show it. He still smashes the competition, small quips and vocalizations from him displaying his immersion in the game. He really doesn't like Toad.
His farts are flowing completely uninhibited now. Now that hes not sitting directly against the hard plastic of the seat, he can let rip without fear of the sound attracting unwanted attention. The attention he *is* getting hes made clear that he very much wants. From your vantage, they are far from silent. Rumbly and low, some squeaky and short. Most are long and would have been so boisterous as to make your grandma blush, if it werent for your nether regions taking and absorbing them. You can feel every blast of wind, every adjusting of his posture, every stomach rumble. The smell is completely unmistakable now. His body, pressed up against your own, starting to sweat slightly from close proximity, nerves, and the rising humidity in the space. Each fart, ripped mercilessly onto your most sensative parts.
Needless to say you didnt notice when he finished the last race (taking first place, obviously). "Hell yea! Eat shit Toad!" he pumps his fist and farts again. "That guys been on my ass all night!" He turns around and notices its your turn to be a blushing mess. His grin tells you the irony was fully intentional. "You ok still?"
You can only muster a smile and a nod, truly at a loss for words in this moment.
"Good, I wanted to adjust something really quick then." He sits up slightly making you realize just how much you were being slightly crushed. He grabs your right hand, the one closest to the curtain, unbuttons his jeans (not touching the zipper) and thrusts your hand down the seat of his pants. His underwear is silky and soft as your hand sinks into the heft of his right ass cheek. You instinctively give it a squeeze and let out a small groan of suprise and pleasure.
"Shhh, careful." he hushes, putting a large and reassuring hand over your mouth. His eye contact is mesmerizing. "Gotta be quieter than that, ok?" Again all you can do is nod, though this time talking isnt much of an option.
"You know, I'm actually loving that you're into this." He said it. You suppose it'd be ridiculous to deny at this point. You're just suprised that its been him taking each step forward into these weird desires of yours so boldly.
"But," he continues, "I want this to be just between me and you, ok?" You notice in this moment that his eyes are dilated, and hes trembling very slightly. He looks like a cat thats about to pounce on his prey. Behind it all, though, you can tell hes scared. Scared and pleading with you. He wants you, *only you*, to know about this part of him.
"So, keep quiet, and enjoy the show. Maybe tonight, we can stay at my place and you can get a taste of just how good at this I am?" His smile tells you that you dont have to say anything. He inserts another game token, and locks in Mario.
Thankfully, nobody else wanted to play Mario Kart that night. Though they'll likely have to fumigate the unit before allowing the public access to it again.
You don't know how many games he played. You didn't care. He was marking his territory on your hand the entire time. Your hand eventually glided from his right cheek to the valley in between. His underwear may as well not exist, though it remains a very important barrier that he has not broken down yet. These barriers are his to show you through, and you to enjoy the anticipation of whats behind them.
You left hand had started to drift under the front of his shirt, and further south. You went slowly, trepidatious that it may be too much for him right now. He only tensed up slightly when you first suggested you wanted to head that direction, giving him pause before saying "Yea, go ahead". He is big, and he is definitely hard. Still, you stayed at the inderwear level, for the same reasons your other hand didn't either.
After who knows how many races, most of which he came on first, you both hear a familiar voice.
"There you guys are!" its Zane, outside the booth. Your left hand quickly shoots up out of the front of his pants, though you have not the time nor the skill to remove your right or button up his jeans in time.
"We were looking for you guys, the place closes in 10 minutes." Zane pokes his head through the curtain on your left side, none the wiser of where your right hand could be. The rest, however is plain to both see and smell. "Jeez man, remind me to never buy you pizza again."
For the briefest of moments your heart is completely still, unsure of what to do. Of course you would get caught what the hell were you both thinking?
Thats as far as your thoughts go before Alex speaks up. "You say that every time we get pizza together, and you still do it."
"Lets get you two lovebirds out of here before gasbag here makes the whole arcade inhospitable. Come on, quit canoodling!" Zanes expression seems knowing, but shows no signs of disgust. You suppose he must be used to Alex's smell by now.
His friend is gone, and Alex slides off of your lap. His eyes are still hungry looking, though his smile is sweet and tender. "Come on, my place has a nice shower." he pauses to consider the forwardness of his words. "I mean, if you would still- if youd like to go home-" You cut him off with a kiss.
"I would love to go back to your place, unless you think I smell to bad?"
He kisses you again, his confidence returned. "No I dont think so, but you should probably wash your hand." he chuckles as he leaves the booth. You sniff your hand and realize what he meant. Thats the closest your face has ever been to his ass. Your arousal returns with a vengance, and you hope thats not where tonight ends.
~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone is piled into Zanes car. You all decided to carpool since gas is expensive as hell and Zane has a big ass car. He asks you to resend your address to his phone, to which you inform him that you will be staying at Alex's tonight. "Oh, ok, easier for me." he says, his voice revealing nothing. Though his eyes through the rearview mirror almost seam to say "Yea I figured."
The drive is quiet and uneventful. Everyone is likely tired from a long day, though you are wound up like a spring. Alex is holding your hand, your right hand specifically, maintining its warmth. If either of you smell like Alex's butt still, nobody mentions it.
(again, imagin its nighttime)
His apartment is clean and spacious, and his neighbors recently moved out. Of course, its definitely a bit of a bachelor pad. You can tell he doesnt get visitors often. Its not dirty, just untidy. You suspect he didnt plan on taking you home with him tonight.
He makes no mention of you needing a shower when you walk in. "Gimme just a sec, be right back." he says as he makes a swift, but not urgent beeline to his bedroom.
It isn't often you find yourself in his apartment. if theres going to be an overnight stay for either of you, its usually him staying at yours. The livingroom has large windows letting in a lot of natural light, which gives the room a completely different feel than you're used to.
You also notice how his kitchen isn't very tidy either, though its far from the barebones kitchen units youd expect from a single man his age. He mentioned once or twice that he "dabbles" in cooking, and you now see what he means. Unorganized, cabinet doors left open, strange organization habits. You cant help but look inside as you walk up to close the cabinet doors yourself. You find that ingredient and spice organization is clearly not his strong suit. Bags of popcorn stored next to a three quarters full bag of rice. Cans of soup next to a packet of,,,, is that a packet of yeast? Somehow he has two bottles of different brand olive oil in two different cabinets accross each other. Both opened and half empty.
Before you can wonder how he managed to accomplish that, his voice from the room snaps you back to the excitement of the night.
"Hey! Come here real quick!" he half yells from his room.
As you enter, you are beholden to a very welcome sight. Alex is naked from the waist up, standing between the end of his bed and his mirror, holding his phone up to take a picture of himself.
"Forgot to make a post today." oh right, his job. You watch as he finds an angle that frames his chest, arms, and behind perfectly to his liking. Just slutty enough for his (and your) tastes. He makes a cute little face, almost a smoulder, and you hear as he rips an absolutely thunderous and titanic fart as he holds the pose. It goes on for several seconds, leaving you stunned in silence the entire time. At the end of the 12 second long emission, he snaps the picture. "Perfect, I'll just schedule that to post tomorrow morning."
He looks back at you, feigning ignorance with that cute smile he loves to pull. "What?"
"Really?" you ask, putting on a facade of your own, making his face go red again.
"What?!" he half whines, putting on an almost pouty face as he turns away to write a caption.
You walk up and place a hand firmly on his ass, grabbing longingly, wanting to do a little boundary pushing of your own. "You tell me what." you tease, leaning in for a kiss.
Before you connect, he farts again, right into your palm, as he has already done so many times tonight. He turns away from your kiss and goes to lay face down on the bed. As he turns, you catch a glimpse of red on his cheeks.
Worried you went too far, you sit next to him on the bed. You touch his arm gently, "You know, if it's all too much, we don't have to do anything. I know whe havent really talked about.... *those* kind of boundaries before." It's true, not out of anything intentional from either of you, it just never came up in conversation. You like his gentlemanly, almost chivalrous persona he puts on in public. Though you were always dissapointed that he never seemed to be comfy enough to fully drop it.
"No it's not-" he starts talking into the pillow, cutting himself off and sighing deeply. You watch as his muscles relax, and he turns to look at you directly. "It isn't that I don't want to. It's just..." You don't interject, letting him collect his thoughts. "It was always a thing with me and my friends. And it was hilarious. And we loved it. But at some point it was, different for me."
You feel heat in the back of your neck as you already know what hes about to describe.
"It never stopped being funny, but they all seemed to grow out of it more. Believe it or not. But I never did, I still wanted to joke around like that. And then I noticed that I wasn't even really laughing at it anymore, but I still wanted to-"
You place a finger on his lips. Your right hand. You make deep, serious eye contact with him before you say, "I know." In that moment you watch him go through every emotion available to him, before landing on understanding. His eyes dialate again and turn slightly pleading, like a dog begging for something they dont fully understand. You both realize just how close you've cuddled together on the bed, and you both remember what you were doing in a Mario Kart booth 30 minutes ago. What he was doing with that hand you are currently holding to his lips.
The moment breaks and hes on top of you. Kissing you wildly and hungrily. Grasping and reaching for something, any part of you to hold onto. Your hands instinctively went to his ass. Kneading them through his jeans like dough. He has just awakened a beast that lives inside of you both, and it demands a feast.
Your shirt came off at some point during the eating of each others faces. You notice this only when he breaks free and leans backward, beginning to tower over you in all his shirtless glory. His pants putton is still undone and his fly is doing its best. His stomach rumbles slightly, just audible enough for you both to hear it and for him to give you a knowing smirk.
"Wait," he says, as if violently pulling the pair of beasts back by their leash, "I don't really...." a pause "know what I'm doing." Before you can say your reassurances, he says, "Oh no I've had sex before, just nothing worth writing home about. I guess I know why, now."
A brief moment of introspection from him, before continuing, "I was going to say, that ive never done anything like this," he gestures down at where your still clothed privates are rubbing against eachother, "So, I'm going to just wing it, and I want you to trust me like I trust you, ok? If theres anything you're not comfy with, let me know and I'll stop immediately."
You nod, a little too frantically. "The same goes to you. I've dabbled in this, but you havent. Take it at your pace, ok?"
Through his eyes you watch his heart melt in real time. "Ok." is all he says before hes lifting up and removing his jeans.
You help him, sensually touching his thighs in places youve never explored before, and as fast as he got up hes back down on top of you as before. You feel the weight of his heavy balls through his white Calvin Klein briefs (he always had expensive taste in clothes. underwear too, apparently). His two large globes of an ass sitting directly on your privates. You haven't forgotten what its capable of.
"I did say I was gonna show you my talents tonight." He says, the red on his face from arousal, not embarrassment. "So I have something to confess to you."
Your inquisitive look speaks for you, and he continues, "That party, couple months ago, when i cut off Gabe from telling that story about me? Well I wanna tell you it now." He notices how both your face and your nethers react to this. "I also want to show you."
He lifts a leg over you, and starts to turn around as he tells his story. "You see, I made Gabe shut up at the party because I specifically requested that none of them talk about that night. You know, scouts honor or something to that effect." His bulbous ass is now front and center in your vision. "It wasn't traumatic or anything, just not a side of myself I wanted widely known. You know with my career and all. Also wouldve made it hard to get dates." You were hoping he knew how much him taking his time was driving you crazy.
"Well, that internet trick Gabe mentioned, was a trick to fart whenever you want." Thats the first time hes said the word 'Fart' in front of you. "We all learned how to do it, and it was an insanely hilarious night. Though I honestly blew the competition out of the park."
His hands were down the back of his underwear now. His knees spread apart slightly, and he goes face down, ass up on the bed in front of you. "Which im sure isn't a suprise to you." He pulls his cheeks apart slightly and sucks in his gut in an odd way. You hear a loud and deep wooshing sound as you understand what he just did.
He looks over his shoulder at you. "I hope you appreciate my skills as much as they did that night." A loud and boisterous fart explodes out of his ass. Its sound is like a stock sound effect for a fake fart in TV shows or movies, but this one is *oh so real*. You watch as his underwear literally flutters from the force of it. You can't take it anymore and dive right into his cheeks, muffling it halfway. Your arms wrap around his waist and your hand stops right on his member, honestly completely unintentionally.
He laughs, a genuine laugh charged with sexual gratitude and just a hint of cockyness. His next words send a chill down your spine. "You want me to take off my underwear?"
You dont answer, instead removing them for him. He exclaims suprise, and releases a short fart to allevate any anxieties you may hold. His ass is beautiful. Covered in thin and short blonde hairs only visible from this distance, with a deeper jungle in his crack. His cheeks are bubbly, but also toned, revealing his trips to the gym aren't fruitless. You run your hands over them gently but firmly, barely revealing the sloghtest glimpse of his hole that hides behind all that perfection.
"Wait wait wait, take this one." he says straining. he bends forward slightly, revealing more of his hole and his balls hanging down under it. The fart he releases is blustery, deep, and sends a shiver down your spine with its musky, but not overpowering smell. He may be farting on command, but he was still gassy before he started. The fart lasts at least 20 seconds, or was it only 5? Its difficult to count when youre in such ecstacy. He laughs at his fart again, sending even more chills to your junk.
"I'm so glad I'm not rhe only one enjoying this." As he says this, your grasping right hand has found his erect member, and has started stroking it slowly. He is rather girthy, and long. Lucky you.
"Oh fuck hold on-" he releases another fart. This time your nose finds his hole like its laser guided, your mouth begining to lick and pleasure his sack. This fart is high pitched and squeaky, though as you stroke him he bends forward into the pleasure, causing it to become lower and airier.
With your left you begin to pleasure yourself, frantically and more sloppy than you typically do. Alex is fully bent over now, squirming and moaning cutely under your touch.
"O-Oh fuck, I, I'm-" he rips a small, but very loud fart right on your nose. His hole pulses and squirms agaisnt your nose, as your vision is overtaken by his massive ass cheeks.
"H-Here." he says, stammering. His gut flexes in that odd way once again, and he sucks in more air to his anus right against your face. His hand reaches back and grabs the back of your head, puching you deeper into his cheeks. "Wouldn't want you to miss this."
He releases a barrage of farts, one after the other, right onto your nose as he moans and groans and grunts your name out loud. He doesn't stop holding you in his ass, he doesn't want you to miss a single second of this, not that youd want to anyways. The gas is unending, its almost overwhelming. You however, were made for this. Your face sits so perfectly between his cheeks, nobody else is as perfect to be taking all his farts right now.
Your pumling on his dick speeds up. He tenses and farts another ripper that you sniff with gusto. His breathing quickens. Hes needing to catch his breath between pushes to rip more on your face. He can feel how ravenous you are for more in the way your mouth and tongue lap hungrily at his balls. He refuses to dissapoint, and never does.
He starts releasing smaller, quick ones in rapid succession now. Your pumps, licks, and sniffs start to sync up with his rips. Youre both getting louder, his moans approaching climax. You cant vocalize as your mouth is full of his balls. "I'm- It's -Ah!"
The finale, he farts right into your nostrils as you both cum in unison. Making a horrible mess of his crumpled up sheets. Not to mention the sweat and the smell that will have to come out in the wash. Neither of you move from your positions immediately. Though he is the first to get up. He removes the soiled top sheet and doesnt replace it before laying in bed next to you.
He grasps you tightly in his arms, and pulls you under the covers with him. Still naked and sweaty and smelly. Neither of you care. Youve never been held so tight before.
Your hands rest comfortably cupping his ass. You fit like a glove together. "Ooop wait." he rips a fart directly into your cupped hands. A moment of silence before "I'm not gonna stop all night, you know."
You kiss him on the forehead. "I know. Its hot." He smiles contentedly into your chest, and farts again.
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The blizzard raged outside, snow piling against the thin fabric of the tent. Inside? A very different kind of storm was brewing.
Jon sat cross-legged, cloak tossed aside, rubbing his stomach with that same stoic, brooding look he always wore — except… there was a hint of amusement lurking in his icy gaze.
Sam coughed. — "Jon... was it really necessary to eat… all of it? The beans, the smoked fish... and... the eggs?"
Jon tilted his head, completely unfazed. — "A man has to eat. Besides... it’s efficient."
Without warning, Jon shifted his weight slightly to one side.
“PFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT” — a deep, volcanic eruption rumbled from him, filling the tent with a horrifying, warm wave of stench that hit Sam like a physical slap.
— "Seven hells!" Sam gagged, waving his hands desperately. — "Jon… it’s... it’s unbearable!"
Jon exhaled slowly, cold breath misting in the air. — "It’s natural. You’ll survive." His tone was calm, disturbingly casual.
Sam buried his face in his scarf. — "Jon... it smells like a White Walker died in here."
A low, ominous gurgle echoed from Jon’s gut again. He tapped it, eyes narrowing slightly as if analyzing incoming artillery fire.
“BRRRRRRRRRT-PPPPPFFFFFTTT-PRRRRRRTTTT” — an absolutely relentless combo, shaking the tent poles, followed by an insidious warmth that spread like a cursed fog.
Sam collapsed sideways. — "I… I think... I’m hallucinating..." His glasses fogged instantly from the sheer humidity of Jon’s biological assault.
Jon chuckled. — "Snowstorm out there. Gas storm in here. One way or another, we’re trapped."
Sam crawled desperately toward the tent’s entrance, tugging at the zipper — still jammed. He whimpered. — "No... please... not like this... this is worse than fighting the Free Folk."
Jon stood slowly, towering over Sam like a shadow of doom. Hands on hips, his face dead serious. Another massive rumble. Jon casually adjusted his stance.
“PPPPFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT-BRBBBRRRTT” — long, cruel, dragging, leaving no mercy behind.
Sam coughed so hard he nearly fell forward. — "Jon... you’re a weapon... a living gassy weapon..."
Jon’s lips curled into the faintest smirk. — "A man protects his own. Winter is coming. I'll keep us warm, I can ensure you. I have enough gas to blow up the Sept of Baelor again, with just a spark of fire and methane… lots of methane."
Sam and Jon smiled through the snow, the darkness and the stench.
Spending the summer living with my uncle and working at the dingy auto shop he owned definitely wasn’t ideal. But the pay was decent, and since I was practically forced into it, I stayed anyway. “It’ll build character, Jamie,” my mom’s words echoed in my head.
On the bright side, most of the employees were cute college boys home for the summer who needed jobs, so at least the eye candy made things more bearable. After the first few days, I was actually beginning to enjoy myself. That is, until one of my uncle’s friends from down South sent his son, Joshua, to work at the shop and stay with us him taking the basement, and me getting the guest bedroom.
Now, I know they say everything’s bigger in the South, but this kid was massive. He easily dwarfed my 5'8" frame. He had to be at least 9 feet tall, and not just tall, he was thick. Not fat, really, but definitely not skinny either. His thigh alone was probably the size of my waist, and his colossal ass cheeks looked like he’d stuffed two medicine balls into the back of the slightly too-tight shorts he constantly wore.
As you'd expect from a giant, his smell wasn’t anything to scoff at either. In the few weeks I'd known him, he always carried this overpowering musk, leaving a trail of his scent wherever he roamed especially from that huge bubble butt of his.
To make it worse, he was younger than me. Nineteen years old, while I had just turned twenty-one, yet he looked like I could be his malnourished little brother.
But despite his size, lack of hygiene, and overall Southern white-trash vibe, Joshua was pretty down to earth albeit a tad troublesome. At my uncle’s request, I was told to befriend him and help him feel at home while he stayed with us.
One Thursday, my uncle informed us that he'd be leaving for a few days to catch up with an old friend and told us to deep clean and close up the shop while he was gone. That afternoon, Josh, Andy (another guy around our age who worked at the shop), and I stood around my uncle’s truck as he handed me the store keys and took off for the weekend.
Shortly after, we started cleaning and getting ready to close up shop.
For context, Andy and Josh had quickly become close friends despite only knowing each other for a couple of weeks. So Josh didn’t even flinch when Andy snuck up behind him and yanked the back of his shorts down, exposing his sweaty, bare, slightly hairy ass to the open air.
“Damn, bro,” Andy winced, fighting the urge to gag and immediately regretting the playful prank. “When’s the last time you took a shower? That’s some serious stank,” he said, fanning the air in front of his face in mock or possibly very real,disgust.
Josh, ever the mischievous one, just grinned, swiped two fingers between his sweat-drenched cheeks, and held them under Anderson’s nose.
“Aww, come on, buddy. It’s not that bad,” he joked in his deep booming Southern accent, as Anderson gagged and nearly fell over.
Josh turned to me with a smirk. “What about you, Jamie? Wanna sniff?” he said while pulling his pants back up.
“Yeah, I’ll pass,” I replied, rolling my eyes as I swept up dust in the corner.
We kept working, cracking jokes, and making the most out of the tedious task of deep-cleaning the entire shop. At one point, Andy rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a tape measure, grinning.
“Hey, Josh, come here! Let’s see how tall the stinky giant really is.”
Josh stood as straight as he could and Andy stepped up onto the desk to measure him 9 feet 6 inches tall.
“Damn. And I thought I was big at 6'2". What about you, little Jamie? Come here, let’s see.”
I sighed and reluctantly walked over. Andy measured me at 5'8", and they both immediately burst into laughter as my face flushed.
“Wow, you’re tiny,” Josh said, looking down at me with an amused expression.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, turning to go back to work.
But Andy grabbed my shirt and pulled me back. “Wait. I gotta see something. Josh, turn around.”
Suspicious, I stood still as Josh turned so his ass barely restrained in those shorts was now directly facing us. Anderson then forcibly guided me forward until my face was practically touching it.
“Wow, bro. You barely come up to his waist. How’s it feel having a face full of ass, shorty?” Anderson laughed.
“Don’t fart, Josh. We’d have to rush him to the ER.”
I immediately felt nauseated. The stench of Josh’s unwashed backside was almost overwhelming thick, warm, and inches from my nose.
Josh looked over his shoulder, smirking down at me, and winked.
Later that night, after we’d closed up, Andy left and it was just Josh and me in the shop. As I was heading down the corridor toward the back office to put away some paperwork, Josh walked from the other direction, coming from the bathroom.
Just as I was about to squeeze past him, he suddenly turned his back to me and backed in, sandwiching my head between his cheeks and the wall.
I tapped his side, trying to get him off of me. I could hear his muffled giggles from within his sweaty ass prison.
Then, without warning, he hiked one leg slightly and let out a lengthy, deafening fart right in my face.
Never in my life had I smelled something so foul. It hit me like a wall of musky, eggy, sewage-infused gas. The force alone made my skull vibrate. The heat warmed my face to an uncomfortable degree.
He finally moved forward, and I collapsed to the floor, gagging and trying not to vomit.
Josh stood over me, hands on his knees, crying with laughter. “I’m so sorry,” he wheezed. “I just couldn’t resist. You’re exactly the right height for that.”
I stood up, still reeling, and shot him an annoyed look. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Relax, tiny. That one was tame. I made Andy’s punk ass vomit once after he challenged me.”
I tried to picture Andy puking from a fart and had a hard time believing it. Though if the war crime I just smelled was “tame,” maybe he wasn’t bluffing.
I sighed and said as sternly as I could, “Come on. Let’s lock up and head home. I’m tired.”
We locked up the shop and headed to my uncle’s house a few blocks away. We had the place to ourselves for the whole weekend.
And I had the sinking feeling Josh wasn’t done with his twisted games.
Not sure how i feel about this one. Let me know if you'd like a Part 2, I'm also open to getting ideas for where you'd like the story to go next.
Having come to the conclusion that Amir had sabotaged your food, you found you no longer had much appetite for it. You pulled the chocolate bar you'd packed out of your bag and made do with that. You put your headset on determined to just get through the flight without further incident, leaving your meal to go cold.
About 20 minutes later you could hear the rattling of the cart and saw Amir and the other stewards coming to clear up after the meal. Feeling nervous as he approached, you readied your tray. When it was your row, without looking up from the film you passed your neighbours' trays along. Then finally your own.
Amir had taken the other two as if on autopilot. But as you held out your own tray, he stopped. He said something, the movie audio drowning him out. He didn't take the tray, and you knew you couldn't ignore it any longer. Slipping off the headset you looked up, in to his ever inexpressive face.
"Pardon, did you say something?". You held the tray up again, praying he'd just take it and move on.
"I said...Was there a problem with your meal?"
"Oh...urm...just wasn't hungry I guess"
He leant in so his face was inches from your own. You glanced to your neighbours, surely they would see this as threatening behaviour too! But the one next to you was already asleep! The window seat occupant too engrossed in their film choice.
"But I made that especially for you...". He growled, menacingly quiet.
"What...what did you do to it?"
"Why would you think I'd do anything to it?...". His question hung in the air, a challenge to call him out.
"I...did you...I'm sorry." You hung your head, ashamed. "You wouldn't have. Please. I just didn't want it"
Amir smirked. His expressionless demeanour was intimidating enough. But this was different, it felt like he'd been assessing you and had now made his decision.
He stood up straight, talking once more as if to any passenger. "Of course, I do hope the next meal will be to your satisfaction". Finally taking the tray and busting it in the cart.
Turning round so he was facing the people on the other side of the aisle, you were once more presented with his godly ass. Stretched material, cupping and lifting his muscular cheeks.
A metallic clang grabbed your attention. A fork had fallen from the tray, crashing down on the floor. Your head swivelled as Amir bent down to pick it up. Too late you realised his plan. His ass was inches, centimetres, maybe from your face. Your entire view taken up by it. The crack lined up dead centre. And above the air con and hub bub of chatter, you heard the faintest fart.
Ppffftt.
Amir straightened up, but as he did, he rounded his back to push his ass out more. For a split second slamming it in to your face, you could feel how toned it was as it flattened you.
Placing the fork and tray in the trolley he walked on, leaving you to breathe in his little gift.
You were so anxious as the flight went on. Paranoid that everyone around you knew you had twice now been farted on, they were talking about the loser who was being bullied by the air steward like school boys. You were doubly sure that his fart lingered on you. Did your clothes smell of it? Was it in your hair? You desperately wanted to go wash your face, but the queue was so long following the meal. You couldn't go stand next to everyone like this!
The plane had been in the air for 2hrs now yet still a further 8 to go of this nightmare. Giving up any hope of relaxing you just stayed vigilant to Amir's movements. A further 15 mins passed and he hadn't been seen. You decided now was the time to rush to the toilet. He was towards the front of the plane, you were positive that's where he'd been last. The toilets at the back would be safe.
Slowly you got up, checking the aisle as far as you could see, then headed back to the toilets. You got there just as someone else nipped in to the first one. 'shit!' you think at the misfortune and check the others. Full too. Angling yourself so you can see up the plane so if Amir appears you can race up the other side. You hear a toilet flush and relieved spin round, only to see the door open and Amir step out.
Horrified you stared up at him. He must have had at least a foot of height on you. The muscle made him like a giant compared to your slimmer frame. Amir stared down, shrinking you with a look.
"I knew you were a queer when I caught you perving on my ass". The word queer dripped with venom as he said it. "I thought a little punishment would put you in your place. Put you right off even thinking about my ass. But here you are, waiting to get in the toilet and get high off my shit. Fucking pervert"
Speechless you stood there. This wasn't true. You didn't want any of this. It was a harmless glance.
Before you could even think of a response, Amir pulled you by the scruff of your neck in to the toilet. It would have been small with just yourself, but with Amir's large frame it was a right squeeze.
The room stunk. It had the smell of the past hours of everybody's use to start with, but fresher on top was the smell of Amir's recent shit. He must have been in here during the time you hadn't seen him, for 20mins unloading in to the toilet.
"This what you wanted? Does my shit smell good to you?"
"I didn't..."
He jabs his knee in to the back of yours, and forces you down. Hands and knees in front of the toilet, inches from it. The floor sticky with piss and dirt, you try and push away avoiding the bowl itself. Amir just holds you down, keeping your head over it.
"Breathe it in gay boy. That's a man's smell. My shit is worth more than you."
The suction of the flush had thankfully cleared the bowl, but you could still smell it. It was like a festival porta-loo at the end of the weekend. You wanted to be sick.
"Please...", was all you could muster.
"Was it not as you hoped? Disappointed its gone? Here, come get it from the source." With that he pulled you round so your face went straight in his ass. The brown trousers soft material did nothing to undo the taughtness of the fit, and his hard glutes crushing your face in to his hand.
PPPPRRRRRRBBBBB
The fart echoed in the small room. It was like being back over the toilet. Worse even.
"You like my shit? Sniff it! Sniff it now!"
PPPPBBBBTTTT
Another meaty fart hit your face. You could practically taste it. This muscle hunk made sure he got his protein and the farts were the outcome. You wanted to beg, to make him stop. But the words just wouldn't come.
PPPPBBBTTT
PPPBBBBRRRRRBBB
PPFFFTTT
After about 10 minutes he let you go. You sat back. Too afraid to look, you stared down at the floor.
"You fucking disgust me. This is where you belong. You're not going to leave this toilet for the rest of the flight, do you understand me?"
You stared at the floor, tears running down your cheeks. "Please..."
"I said...do you understand me?"
You nodded. He was right. You couldn't go back out there. Amir definitely made sure you stunk of him now. Your face and clothes were permeated with his odour. Like being skunked.
Seeing your acceptance, Amir opened the door. Before too much of his gas could escape he slammed it shut again. From the outside you heard a click of the lock. Muffled voices came through. First a passenger enquiring if it was free. You thought you heard Amir respond it was "Out of Order". Then two voices speaking another language, Amir and his colleague from earlier you assumed. There was a quick back and forth, laughter and a mocking bang on the door.
You stayed there. In the dark room. Kneeling in dried piss. Breathing in Amir's farts.
You stowed your bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in your seat. Glad to finally be settled after being stuck in the airport for near 3 hours, uncomfortable and bored. Other than the occasional stand to let your neighbours take their seats, window and middle, you were finally able to begin to relax.
Scrolling the film selections to pick out what you might watch on the journey, struggling with the poor selection, you started to watch the cabin crew get ready for take off. You hadn't noticed one of them when boarding, but you had certainty noticed him now!
The man was walking down the aisle checking the over head compartments. His face was stern looking, not like the overly polite air stewards you were used to. His beard was trimmed and styled immaculately. Kept short, with fades and cut lines. He could have been a model. His brown skin was complimented by the colours of the uniform; a cream shirt, chocolate brown trousers and waistcoat, with burnt orange accents.
The uniform itself you noticed must have been at least one size too small for this man. His tree trunk legs were risking splitting the sides of the trousers, the shirt showed off his impressive biceps and the waistcoat held taught. As he neared your seat you knew you had to check out the back. A man this built in clothes like this, that ass was going to be worth a look.
As he got to your compartment you first checked out the bulge. He'd obviously made sure to not be too on display, but there was a meaty package bundled in the front. But as expected the ass was the main show. When he moved to the next compartment you followed him. That ass was godly. The trousers, struggling with the thighs were pulled taught across his huge globes. The clothes you realised must have been tailored, because despite the tightness, there was enough material to fully envelop both cheeks and go right up his crack. You could only imagine how those trousers would smell after this 10hr flight.
The sight was worth the look, but too late you realised he'd stalled at the next compartment to fix something and in doing so had caught you looking. As you glanced up you caught his look. He gave nothing away; no potential anger, flattery of the attention, nothing. Quickly you sat back in your chair and started tapping at the screen, pretending to pick up your film search. You could hear he'd started to move on and you relaxed again. That was too close.
You made sure to avoid eye contact as he carried out that rest of the checks and before you knew it it was time for take off. You did have to watch him do the safety announcements which was awkward, but he never once looked at you and was ever the professional. Assured he'd not taken offence you relaxed again and tried to settle in to a film.
After about an hour the crew started to run down the plane handing out meals to those who'd order special options; vegetarian, halal, etc. You took the opportunity to enjoy as he waddled his ass up and down the aisle. On the next one he stopped at your row, and started speaking to the lady next to the window. He leant forward to hand her meal, his bulk forced you to lean back to give him space. His size was so imposing and you could feel his natural authority seeping from him.
As he straightened back up you followed him with your eyes, and they fell upon his name badge where it read, 'Amir'. You then met his eyes. He lingered for a moment, towering over you staring down as if assessing you. Before walking off. Heart racing you tried to stay calm, and more importantly hide the erection that was growing.
A short while passed and you could see him now working on the main meal service. Walking backwards pulling the trolley, joking with a colleague who was on the other side pushing. They served meals to the passengers ahead, working their way down the plane. Once they got to the rows just in front you were treated to his ass inches from your face. Turning this way and that as he handed out meals, you got to see it from all angles. You tried not to stare having been caught once, but you couldn't resist.
The chatter from Amir and the other steward grew louder and you looked up to see them both laughing. You didn't understand what was being said in the language, but the other steward looked at you then back to Amir and nodded. Amir said something and they both laughed.
While getting something from the trolley, Amir bent forward pushing his ass out and towards you. You didn't hear anything, but a second later you smelt it. Covered by the smell of the plane food that was being released with each meal lid pealed off, Amir had released a silent fart in your face. He said something in his language to his colleagues and they both burst out laughing.
Your cheeks turned red. It was unbelievable what had happened. Should you tell someone? But who? And say what, that you, a grown man, had been farted on by another man. It was too embarrassing.
Amir turned to you, the laughter gone and the imperceptible face returned. He asked your neighbour what meal option they wanted and handed it over. The moment of dread came, when you'd have to speak. But instead of asking the question to you, Amir placed a tray in front of you.
"...what... is it?"
His tone was cordial. "It's your special dietary meal".
"Oh I didn't order anything, I can just have the regular chicken."
"This was prepared especially for you". The tone never changed but his eyes bore in to you, as if daring you to challenge him further.
"So-sorry. Thank you."
The two stewards laughed as they moved on, saying something you couldn't understand.
Looking at the meal you knew something had been done. The water bottle had been opened, could he have spit in it? The foil lid had been put back but you were sure it had been lifted, what had been done there? The bread roll, looked as if it had been squashed. Maybe sat on. You gave the food a sniff. The strong smell of all the airplane food made it had to detect anything, but you were positive you caught the faintest hint of a familiar smell, of Amir's fart.
It’s been a full week now since what I dubbed The Locker Room Revelation. Julian has been… subdued. He and his friends still throw insults at me in the halls, and I keep finding dirty socks in my bookbag, but they haven’t been within arms-length of me otherwise. I don’t know how to feel about this. It doesn’t seem like they told anyone what happened, which is good, and other people pick on me less when they don’t have those three idiots to copy. Yet, I’m not happy. I don’t have any friends or a whole lot of hobbies—the most exciting thing in my life was getting off on Julian’s harassment and hoping he wouldn’t realise and murder me.
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Dan was a short kid and pretty skinny his whole life. Graduating from high school he was 5′4 130lbs. He got along with everyone pretty well. Besides Derick. Dan and Derick were polar opposites. Dan is the kid who spends his nights watching anime or playing video games while Derick is the party animal lax/football/ player. And the varsity captain for the wrestling team. Derick was really popular but Dan didn’t understand why. Derick is 6′4 205lbs.
They lived in a small town and went to a small high school where everyone knew each other. One time at school for Dan’s birthday Derick decided to give him a little suprise… He hoisted dan on top of a table in the cafeteria for everyone to see where he pantsed Dan and let everyone see him bare naked. It was the most embarrassing moment of Dan’s life but it made Derick feel like a god, especially when he was getting cheered on by the students watching. The grand finale was Derick sticking his finger in his mouth, swirling it in his armpit hairs, and then giving Dan the worlds grosset wet willy. Dan was horrified and humiliated. The two haven’t really spoken since but Derick will do subtle things to tease Dan like making ugly faces to him or sticking his finger by his ear.
High school graduation happened and Dan was excited for college. He was going to be assigned a random roommate in a school miles and miles away from home, so he was just a tad nervous. He opened his dorm and met his roommate. His name was Rick and he was awesome. Another tall white guy built like Derick but he liked similar anime to Dan so it seemed like a perfect fit. But then there was a knock at the door. Rick opened it and welcomed in the stranger, but Dan knew that was no stranger. That was that asshole Derick. Derick explained. “Yeah hey so basically the school fucked up and made my trio a quad room and so i had to get reassigned to a new dorm… guess you guys are my new roommates!” Dan was obviously not pleased. Rick said “well im fine with that, the more the merrier! But just in case you don’t get a bed in here tonight I call NOT sharing mine! Haha!” Dan and Derick’s eyes both widened. One with misery and one with a golden opportunity to embarrass this same kid. The same claim to fame that made him so popular in high school. But if these three were gonna live together Derick knew he would have to do something really big this time. He put Dan in a headlock. “Don’t you guys worry i already know my little buddy Dan here won’t mid sharing with an old buddy of his” he said with a cocky attitude. “Rick why don’t you come to the cafteria with me im starving.” Dan was tired anyway, and if this school could’t bring Derick a mattress, he would at least like to enjoy some sleeping time alone in his mattress. He was so tired he ended up passing out in about 5 minutes.
It was dark out now. Dan’s eyes weren’t open but he could tell the sun wasn’t there on his face. He started opening his eyes more and he noticed it wasn’t really dark yet but there ws something blocking his path from the window. He put his hand up to see what was blocking the view and felt something soft yet silky. he suddenly heard, “If u wanna grab my ass why dont u take a closer look HAHAHA” Dan’s eyes shot open but Derick just let his ass plop right down on Dan’s face. Dan was squirming in confusion freight and anger. Dan started to hear laughing. He realized it must be Derick’s stupid ass on my face since we are technically sharing a bed right now but it was two sounds of laughter. Oh no. Dan realized exactly what was going on. It was a repeat of when Derrick humiliated me for popularity. Dan didn’t want to start off his college career with his new friend’s first impression of him being used as Derick’s cushion. Dan fought with all of his might to push Derick’s ass off of his face. He managed to lift him a little but his hands ended up just pushing his boxers down and Derick slipped right back onto Dan’s face but this time his ass was exposed. You could hear Derick and Rick laughing from down the hall. Dan started screaming and begging for Derick to get off and he heard Derick say “what are u begging for? what do u want? Ohhhhh i think i know what he wants Rick.” Rick wiped away some tears from laughing so hard and asked what he wanted. Derick said “he’s mad i didn’t save him anything from the dining hall! butt turns out he was wrong about that haha” Dan’s stopped moving because he was scared and confused as to what he meant, even Rick didn’t understand. But in Derick’s mind this was the golden opportunity. The best chance to make himself look like a god once again. He said the cafe gives u some real good stuff…. Here’s my leftovers Danny”
There was a moment of silence. Then suddenly Derick ripped the most rancid and loud fart that he has ever heard from himself or anyone else. This cafeteria food was no joke! Rick erupted in laughter. Derick’s stomach and ass were out of control blasting massive rips over and over and over and grinding his ass on Dan’s face pretending it was toilet paper. Dan was screaming for help but the taste of the bean burrito lingering in those farts was enough to keep his mouth shut. He stopped screaming and hoped submitting would make it end quicker. Rick took several snapchat videos but didnt send it to anyone. Rick even said in the last vid which had Derick’s remarkable 18 second fart that he couldnt smell a thing and Derick is without a doubt a God tier farter. Music to Derick’s ears, not to Dan’s.
Derick finally got up and had to rip Dan out of his ass by his hair and said 3 things. “First of all, the school has emailed me back about my bed situation. They said that they fucked up and I wont be guaranteed my own bed until at least next semester. Secondly, I am so beyond excited to meet you Rick we’re gonna be great pals. Thirdly, now we know that whenever we have bad gas, we can force Dan to just sniff it up for us! Dan was like “uhhhh not funny” but the other two laughed and cheered for the fart sniffer. Derick said Rick you should be really grateful because i have awful gas when i sleep. He winked at Dan. “It’s gonna be a long semester for u fart boy”. He ended the conversation by grabbing the back of my head shoving it in his ass and letting out a 3 part toot toot toot before the two of them hit the gym.
Continuation of my previous story, nothing else to really add, LOL. Have a good day, enjoy my fruity desires!
Driving back with this new, strange, yet handsome man has definitely been... an experience. Most of our talks have been casual since I've picked him up. It's a little hard for me to not feel embarrassed. I don't understand how HE isn't honestly. He's the one who was left naked in the street, but he has such a sweet smile and is just continuously cracking jokes and making light on our drive back. His assurance in himself is something I genuinely envy. It's not even cockiness. He doesn't seem to think he's showing off or better than me he's just... comfortable with himself. It's kind of amazing
"And-and" Andy laughs, amusingly too excited to properly get through his story "And so, um, since the bro's and I all tied, we had to do a tie breaker, and we raised the stake so that EVERYONE who lost to the tiebreaker winner would lose the bet, not just one so it was like SUPER high stakes cuz I knew if Brandon or James won they would have ABSOLUTELY made me do some rank shit, the other guys could maybe be chill but if either of those two knuckleheads got it I was cooked so I had to lock the fuck in" Andy keeps going on about some story during his gap year, it's honestly really cute seeing him get excited about it. He's kind of giving off frat boy right now, considering this 'bet against the bros, all or nothing, winner does what they want to the losers' of it all. But it's fun to listen to, and even if I'm not necessarily that party bro type, I like seeing him excited about it. It's hard not to feel attracted to this man, I don't think I'd want to pursue him, though... after what Andy has been through, it would be disrespectful of me to take advantage of his vulnerability. Besides, Axel practically told me every single reason why I am the most disgusting, horrible, unworthy boyfriend in existence... I doubt anybody will ever want me again... I'm just not worth it.
DRRRRRPPPTBTBBTBT
I looked up in shock at the sound, I had zoned out a little bit, but the absolutely barbaric rip that just rumbled out of Andy's ass completely took me out of my trance
"Ah~ that was a good one, you done ignoring me now?" He chuckles. "Thought you'd like this one it's one of my best moments ever, dude."
"S-sorry, I was listening. You were telling me about how you were scared some of your friends would make you do something stupid, right?"
He smirks at me from the seat and closes one of his eyes, straining slightly in the process
vvv-vvVVRRRRPT
He chuckles after letting that out, damn I know he said he had beans last night but his gas is fucking copious. "Ha, sorry I just needed to let that one out too, but yeah, basically after the bet was raised, I made an alliance with some of the guys that we would help eachother, and if any of us won at the end the punishments for eachother would be light work compared to the stuff for the others"
I laugh at this "Ah so you're making it a strategic game, interesting." "What dude, didn't expect me to have a brain in here?" he smiles wide while knocking on the side of his head like a door as a joke "No, no, not at all." I say, "Just a fun tactic, thickens the plot"
He grins at this "Yeah it was fun. Basically, afterward, I ended up winning pretty damn easy, but I decided to uphold my end of the deal and let most of the guys off with easy shit, gave most of them either their choice of a wedgie or a wet willie. But as for Brandon and James, and a few other guys I just didn't know very well at the party, let's just say..." Andy leans forward, I can see him grabbing a moundfull of his ass in the carseat and jiggling it slightly to seemingly make a point. "They had a bad encounter with this nuke of an ass"
Honestly, this statement made me blush. I don't know why, but... something about the way he talks and acts with his body. Hell, even the farts are starting to turn me on now... hell, maybe they always have, and I don't know what's scarier, being into farts or being into this farting GOD. Maybe it's his confidence, maybe it's his body, maybe I'm just discovering something about myself I didn't know yet but... if I stay with him in this car any longer, I'm afraid I'll fall too deep for him... he's just too attractive.
Luckily, we're not too far from being back in the city, Andy told me he'd give directions from there and then get out of my hair after, based on the way he's been acting so far, ripping ass all over the douche who left him. Honestly, I'm not sure if it's a good idea to take him, I don't want him to get like arrested. Sure, it would be a ridiculous charge, but I'm sure that it could count as harassment. Even if I offer to just take him straight home, though, I think he'd go for it anyway with or without me, and I think I feel safer knowing nothing happens to HIM than just abandoning him. I just hope if I'm right about him wanting to blast this guys face with his rump, I can control myself from whatever he has that's making me horny as hell.
Soon, we make it into town, I mindlessly drive down the streets as Andy directs me. "So what about you, dude?" Andy says, "What should I know about you? I'm sure you have some fun stories yourself. Most of my best involve- HNNGH"
BRRRPPRPRPT
"Farting my brains out, and I'm sure you're at least a little sick of it." He chuckles as he says this, clearly feeling a little guilty about it despite him very clearly loving it.
"Umm... not really, honestly. I haven't done many wild things in my life. Only interesting things that have happened to me recently involve my ex, and that's a... rough subject right now." I say solemnly, before glancing over at him, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh... ruin the mood"
"No bro don't sweat it... you already know I clearly didn't have the best luck with guys myself considering what that brat did to me last night, I can handle an ex story or two if you wanna talk about it." He gives me a very comforting look as he speaks. It feels nice knowing that he is willing to listen, but I don't even knoe what I'd say
"Well, the breakup was this morning. I kinda knew it was coming eventually... he had been treating me like shit for a while, and I wanted to leave, but... he always guilt tripped me into staying. I never outright proposed a breakup cuz I was just too scared to hurt him or.... for him to want to... hurt me..." I pause for a moment, seeing Andy clench his fist in the corner of my eye as I speak. "Go on..." he says, it's clear he's angry, his voice having a slight groel to it, and honestly, I'm not sure if it's because of me or because of Axel. "I-it's fine I don't wanna trouble you with-"
BRRRPT
I stop and jump a little in my seat at his latest rip "I don't wanna trouble-"
BBB-BPPPPPTRRR
"Trouble you with my-"
PRRPRRRT-PPRR-PRRRRRRRTTT
"My issues..."
VVVRRRPTTTTPPTPTT
"Damn dude, you really can't take a hint, can you?" He says, his ass lifted and intentionally facing me ass he wafts his stink cloud away from him and towards me. "Keep talking, I wanna hear what happened, seriously. Don't make me use my not-so-secret weapon again, " he smirks, before his tone softens and his face becomes more serious. "Seriously, I wanna know. This dude sounds like an ass and if he treated you badly, I want you to be able to let out your pain"
After hearing this, I can't help but tear up a little. After spending so much of my morning crying, I thought it was finally over, but... it's really hard to calm myself down when Andy is so kindly giving me a chance to vent my sorrows. I can feel him place a hand on my back to comfort me, and I decide to pull over at the nearest diner, not wanting to crash from the blurry tears clouding my eyes.
Andy looks over at me, puzzled, before I can't take it anymore and start bawling my eyes out into my hands. "I-i-i always thought th-that if I just... kept letting him get away with it... even if I wasn't happy, at least he would be. He was the first p-person to ever- to ever like me, and I just couldn't-" i sniffle loudly, struggling to keep it together, "I couldn't hurt him. I know the... the things he would do to me were bad. I know they were b-but I just always felt so- so guilty whenever I wanted to leave, he always made it feel like if I ever wanted to leave, he w-would be nothing without me... I couldn't do it to him... I was completely helpless."
Although I can't see it, I know Andy is still staring at me, I can feel him rubbing my back in a gentle, circular motion, his firm, warm, yet gentle hands caressing me, it provides slight comfort, but I just continue to sob, unable to control myself. After a few minutes of mostly silence, with a hint of my breakdown, eventually I calm down and look up at Andy "I-i'm sorry..." I whisper, barely able to get the words out.
"It's alright... thank you for telling me," he stares out the window of the car for a second before exhaling a loud sigh, "How'd you do it?" He asks
"D-do what?" "Break up with him? What changed your mind to finally do it" i pause for a second, looking down in shame. "I didn't... he broke up with me. Apparently, I'm completely revolting and the only reason he stuck around was cuz he felt sorry for me, and was cheating on me the whole time with different men and women because I 'couldn't satisfy him the way a real bitch could.' I just... I feel so dumb. I don't understand how I could really think someone could love me..."
With that, I see Andy's face turn red, and he shuffles in his seat. Suddenly he reaches in the back of the car and his ass wobble in front of my face, two small poots come out of his ass and I blush, still looking like a tear eyed mess, as these huge mounds bounce around near my head
"W-what are you doing Andy?" I ask, still flustered at the sight of his smelly cheeks in my face, I see him pull himself back into his chair with my spare blanket I keep in my car just incase I need it.
"First of all, never talk about yourself that way. If you were some revolting undateable loser, he wouldn't have used you in the first place. You're clearly kind, or you wouldn't have helped me. I personally think you're cute as hell, and I know hotness. I mean, LOOK at me" I giggle as he flexes jokingly, before getting serious again. "Secondly, he's the asshole here. You did nothing wrong. Your worst mistske was falling for trash like him, but I don't blame you since you clearly haven't had someone show you your REAL worth." He raises his body up, wrapping the blanket around his waist almost like a towel "and two more things, first..." he gets out of the car and rounds to the driver's side, opening it and holds his hand out to me. Hesitantly, I take it, rising out of the car with him "I'm treating you to some diner food, I don't got my wallet but I'll pay you back as soon as I'm home. Then I'll drive us there, I'm sure you need a break after how your day has gone." He then closes in on me, wrapping his srms around me as my face sinks into his pecs. He leans and whispers into my ear, his warm breath brushing against it "and lastly, after I load up on this greasy ass food, I'll have the gnarliest gas to not only unload onto Axel, but your loser ex as well." I smile into his chest, before freezing for a moment. "I'm sorry d-did you say Axel?" "Yeah, why?" I look up at Andy, hoping my suspicions aren't correct. "Axel Bailey?" I say. Andy's eyes widen. "You know him? Wow, small world. I hope he's not your friend cuz god if he is you really need better taste in pals-" "He's my ex" Andy freezes, his face stone cold and his body completely unmoving as he holds onto me, i can see his jaw lock and clench, before he looks at me with some frankly evil looking eyes and a clearly angry grin. "Oh, oh you don't have a choice anymore bud-"
VRRRRRPPPPPPRPRTRPPRPRPT
He just effortly lets out a 12 second fart, still holding me close, I can feel him vibrating against me as he lets it flow out of him. He sighs and looks back down at me, still looking like the devil hss possessed him "That was the last of my bean gas, I can still fart like hell, but I need to stock up on this food now. We're gonna show that prick Axel that he doesn't cheat on cuties like you, and he doesn't mess with a man like me. I'm warning you now, once you see how bad my gas can TRULY get, you may not wanna hang out with me anymore, but we're doing this shit, I'm not letting him get away with any of this and I will avenge both of us just you wait..." he looks into my eyes, the evil in his grin dissipating slightly, and it morphs into a more cocky and flirtatious smirk. "So, ready to eat?"
I'm not sure if I'm ready for any of this, but, honestly, I can see how determined he is, and honestly, while I could live with hoe Axel treated me, learning he's the one who left Andy to rot lights a fire in me, I don't want to hurt him, but I do think if Andy wants his revenge, who am I to deny him.
"Let's eat." I say, this earns me a squeeze and a playful slap on the ass from Andy "Bet." Normally I wouldn't like it if someone slapped my ass without knowing them longer, but I decided to play back, trusting Andy, and slap his back, feeling it bounce in the blanket
"Oh, I'm so getting you back for that one"
VRRRT
He leans on me and lets out a 2 second poot before continuing to walk with me "And no, that doesn't count!" we both giggle and walk into the diner... and all I know is... I failed my mission... I've 100% fallen for Andy.
Yippee!!! Part 2 completed!!! Honestly, I once again focused more on story than the gas, but I tried to have as much as possible without ruining the plot. If part 3 goes how I expect it to then it should have a WAY more heavy emphasis on the gas, but honestly I'm really enjoying what I've come up with and I hope you guys do too! Thanks for reading, and have a good day!
Oh, also! I added a Hitchhiker Andy tag! Once I start making more stories, I want people to easily find their favorites, so I'll make the tags have the story title for easy access. I'm going to edit part 1 to also have this tag, that's all!
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