I wrote a thing, bc @shy-eproctophiliac liked the scenario, @hahahago-away asked, and I had nothing to do today lmao. hope y'all enjoy ✨
A was splayed lazily in their bed, half out of the work clothes they gave up trying to remove. One hand was stuffed behind their head amidst the pillows and the mattress, the other resting on their belly while they watched trashy TV. Exactly where they wanted to be after their exhausting week at work.
Their boss had given everyone a half-day after the big project they had been working on was finally finished. All the employees had been far too tired to even crack smiles of relief. Possibly in an attempt to win back some friends after being a complete pain in the ass for months, their boss had waved everyone away and sent them home. A certainly couldn't get out of there fast enough.
They'd actually come home at a reasonable hour for once and collapsed into bed, ready for some much needed down time. It had been months since they'd actually relaxed.
The sounds of the front door opening caught A's attention, bringing on a smile as they switched the TV off. B was home. A had barely seen B since their job had become such a nightmare, and now they could finally spend some time together. Perhaps they could order take-out and watch a movie, maybe open up some wine—
A loud rumbling like rolling thunder interrupted A's thoughts, echoing from the direction of the front door.
"Ohhh, my God." B's voice carried to A's room when the noise tapered off, complete relief in their tone.
B was...? That— Surely not... Had that been...?
Another noise, like furniture dragged slowly along a wooden floor, growing clearer with each second that ticked by. And ticked by. And ticked by.
A was distantly aware of the throbbing of their blood, the arousal between their legs.
"Fuck." A billowing sigh, and footsteps finally entering the house.
B was... farting. To such a degree and volume that it seemed to shake the very walls. A had, much to their dismay, never heard B fart in all their time knowing them. It seemed strange for two people to live together and not hear even one accidental rip - A had assumed that B was just extremely cautious of that kind of thing. It wasn't as though A could just ask. At least, not without blushing.
One, two, three farts in quick succession, matching the footsteps on the tiles as B walked into the lounge - then a fourth, longer, and far more bubbly, and A's mouth watered at the image of B pausing with a leg bent to rid themselves of their pesky gas. Their face pinched in strain. Their bloated stomach deflating from what must've been agonising amounts of trapped wind.
Another wet finish, and what could only be described as a moan. "Ohh, fuck. There we go." The couch creaked as B settled down on it and A's hand was already shoved between their legs and rubbing furiously.
They did their best to last, faced as they were with the hottest wanking material they'd ever come across, but they were doomed from the start. Every subsequent fart B cut loose (muffled and bubbling as they were sitting on the couch, their couch, oh fuck—) threatened to pitch them over the edge.
It was a bubbling fart so bassy it was nearly inaudible that A came to, their free hand clamped over their mouth to quieten themselves through their mind-blowing orgasm. Panting in the aftermath, still hearing occasional farts and sighs of contentment, A dizzily wonders if they would ever get to experience a situation so hot like this again. Then, thoughts turning over as they blink at the ceiling, they consider how they might ask their boss for different hours at work.
