Here I was, on my knees, underneath a desk setting up a computer in the new Sargent's office. Nothing abnormal, until I felt a hand slap my ass and give a squeeze.
I audibly yelp and immediately turn to see Officer Vanover giving me a shit eating grin. "Whoa man, I don't know you like that." I eventually get out and he laughs in response.
"Not yet." He gives me a wink.
Officer Vanover is an attractive guy and all, but there is a small problem: As far as I'm aware, he's a married man. When I Facebook stalked him, there were clearly tons of photos with him and his wife, ranging from their wedding to vacation photos. So, this was more of a hazing thing more likely than a sexual thing, I decide.
Now, here's my problem. Officer Vanover is hot. I hate to admit that, but it's true. At minimum he's 6 foot 1, has an ass that won't quit, fit as hell and his face card and ginger beard are to die for. And his uniform pants hug his ass so tight that you can see the lines of his boxer briefs. It's so fucking erotic and half the times I'm around him, I have to rush to get away before I do something I regret. Thoughts of him throwing my 5 foot 5 self around plague my mind way too much when I'm around him.
My interactions with Officer Vanover started the first week I started in February.
February 12 -
When I start messing with the printer, he came over and just stood next to my left. Not say anything at first, just hovered. It's odd, but not necessarily anything new. After a few minutes of not finding anything wrong with the printer, I finally say "Do you know what's wrong with the printer? It looks fine to me."
He gives me an expression that he's thinking, but shakes his head no. I sigh and get ready to go to the Police Lieutenant to see if he can tell me what exactly the issue is when Officer Vanover hikes his right leg up and rips ass directly at me. "Oops." He says with that shit-eating grin. It's gross, but it doesn't smell like anything.
"Get outta here man." Half-laughing as I plug my nose. He keeps laughing, but he does go back to one of the Patrol Desks. I keep working away, Officer Vanover keeps farting and eventually Officer Hanford shows up.
"Jeezus it reeks. Brandon, what the fuck are you eating."
"How you know it's me. Could be the IT guy."
"Hey!" I yell from the other room.
"Because it always stinks when you're here." Officer Hanford groans before taking another desk.
I step out into the room to say something, but Officer Vanover is straining his face when a loud fart rings out in the Patrol Room.
"Fuck this, I'm working in my car." Officer Hanford gets up almost as quickly as he sat down. "Sorry new guy." He says to me as he leaves.
Officer Vanover gives me a wink, and another ringing fart before I go back to the printer.
Another 15 minutes of his farting and getting no where on the printer before I determine there's nothing wrong and printing is working fine. I say my goodbyes to Officer Vanover and let the Lieutenant know that the printer is working. I found out from him that Officer Vanover was the one who reported the issue though. I found it strange he reported the issue but didn't tell me that when I was working on it.
February 16 -
I get called down to the Patrol Room again, and once again, just Officer Vanover. He gives me a smile, I ignore the way that it makes my heart beat quicken. This time there is an issue on his computer. "Officer Vanover, we need to stop meeting like this." I try to joke, and he laughs, but there's a feeling in my gut that this isn't going a normal interaction.
"You can call me Brandon." He shows me the issue and it leads me to having to go under his desk to mess with the cabling. As I'm trying to make sense of the cabling, I see him scoot his chair in and block me under the desk.
"Hey, whatcha doing?" I say as his legs force me against the cubicle wall. It's still workable, just uncomfortable.
"Just keep working and I'll keep working on my document." His keyboard does start to clack.
"Why don't you use a different desk. There's not enough-" I was beginning to argue when he man spreads. And there's his bulge, right there where I can admire it. "Actually, I think I can work like this."
"What I thought fag." That's what I thought he said, but that couldn't be right. I didn't press him about that.
I found the issue with the cables pretty quickly as well. It was clear that someone, most likely Officer Vanover, er Brandon, had pulled the ethernet cable. I plugged it back in, but I didn't say anything yet, as I was still admiring his bulge. Actually it was more than just a bulge, he had a fucking hard on now. His fat (holy fucking shit) cock was straining and he put he grabbed it and shook it.
"Oh my god. Are you-" And before I can finish, he grabs my head and pulls it hard against the seat of his chair and his ass.
PBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
A loud fart echos from Brandon's seat and I'm forced to inhale his gas. And this time, it stunk bad. I start coughing and gagging "Fuck! Let go!"
PBRBRBRBR PRBBFBFBFBRBRBR
I'm don't know how many farts just came from his ass, but it was wet and disgusting. The smell was eggy and I gagged hard. I pull away from Brandon's hand. He's laughing hard as he backs his chair up from me.
"Sorry, gotta make sure the new guy is welcomed." He says, boner still pressed against the fabric of his pants. He makes a show of adjusting himself, giving me a wink, and then stands up from the chair to leave.
PFFFBBRBRFFFFFFTTTTTT
"For the road." He says at the entryway.
I'm sitting on the floor, stuck, not sure what to do. I mean this was a line that got crossed professionally. Do I go to the L-T and let him know what just occurred? Do I just leave it alone?
Ultimately, I finish what I'm doing and hide back in my office. But I don't stop thinking about what happened. I'm not into all the farting stuff, but dude, that fat dong has me salivating. The thought of being back under the desk sucking on that hog (pun intended) makes it difficult to focus.
February 23 -
There had been a few run ins with Brandon over the couple past days, but nothing of note. That changed though on the 23rd.
The lieutenant asked me to assist with getting new equipment setup in a side office for a new Sargent that would be starting soon. Not an abnormal request, so I do my thing.
That's where I feel the hand on my ass. Brandon is there giving me that shit-eating grin again.
"Whoa man, I don't know you like that."
"Not yet." He gives me a wink. "But now that I'm Sargent, I'm sure you'll be getting to know me pretty well."
"Wait, is this going to be your office."
"Yup." He pops the P loudly and I can't help but watch the way he licks his lips. Fuck I need to get out of here.
"Well, congrats man. I'm going to keep working, so if you don't mind removing your hand." He removes his hand and walks away. I can't help the sigh of relief that leaves my lips, but then I hear the door close and the lock latch. I turn my head quickly to see the blinds closing as well. He makes eye contact with me and points to the black sofa. "Wha?"
"Sit down." He says impatiently. And I don't know if it's his tone or the arousal in my brain, but I do as I'm told. "Look, you're a fag, you can't help that. But, you need to keep those eyes of yours to yourself."
"What? You just grabbed my ass."
"I'm not a fag though."
"That's kind of fag behavior though." I don't stop myself. "What game are you playing here?" I say angrily.
"Watch your tone. I'm a man, fags don't get to talk to men like that." Who the hell is this guy?
"Fuck you man, I'm going to L-T." I get up from the sofa, but immediately Brandon grabs me and moves my hands behind my back and puts me in cuffs. "What the hell man?" He pushes me back to the sofa where I land face first.
"You have the right to remain silent." He puts his knee on my back, preventing me from moving. I can feel him shifting and adjusting behind me. When he grabs me and flips me to my back, I can see that he's shirtless. And of course he has an awesome body. I try to ignore that fact but then his hands go to his belt and he drops his pants. His fat dong, already fully erect in his cobalt blue boxer briefs.
"I-" I lose the words as I see him pump his cock through the boxers.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your pick fag."
"What does that even mean? Brandon, what are we doing here." I go to stand back up, but he pushes me back down.
"Don't get up unless I tell you to." He says as his hand is forcefully pushing my chest into the sofa. He's towering above me and I'm trying to keep eye contact, but my eyes move back to his cock. "Fag, can't even help yourself. Eyes up here fag."
"I-I-Can I suck you off?" It catches both of us off guard. He examines my face for a moment and then laughs.
"Oh you thought this was for you." He jiggles his cock in his hand. "Nah, that's not how this is going." He grabs my shirt, and adjusts my position on the couch where my head is positioned in between the crack of the cushions. He turns around and his boxer clad ass is positioned over my face. He drops his ass hard and slams me into the sofa.
I'm stuck in the sofa, and Brandon's ass is covering my face. Immediately I can smell how musky Brandon is today and my face is already starting to feel damp.
PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT
Oh no, not this again. Warm air hits my face and the smell hits like a freight train at this distance. I cough and strain against the cuffs on my hands, but I can't move. I scream help hoping anyone can hear me, but I know it's useless from Brandon's laugh. "Oh shut up."
PBRBBRFTTT PBRBRBFFFFFFT
A whine escapes from me as the new farts hit my nose. The smell is like sewage and there's no escaping. "Oh god someone help!" I yell, but it only gets drowned out from Brandon slamming his ass down on my face again.
"I said shut up." He drops again and I'm feeling slightly concussed. "I want to hear you sniffing this one."
"No!" I whine.
"Sniff or I'm shoving a baton up your ass." I reluctantly take a large inhale.
A sigh of relief leaves Brandon as I'm forced to inhale the full brunt of the noxious fumes. Everything starts to feel distant as more sewage is inhaled to my lungs. Fuck things are really starting to spin.
"Good boy." He briefly stands up and gives my head a pat and I can't help but lean into the pat. "Alright, that's enough." He slams his ass back down. "Get back to sniffing." I whine in protest. "Sniff now." Again, I begin to inhale.
PFFFFFFFFBBRBRRRFFFFFFBRBRBRFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT
"Ah fuck." Brandon sighs as I gag down the gas. "Yeah fucking smell that shit." He grinds his ass down against my face. "I bet you're lovin' this shit fag." I whine, but he just lifts up and slams down again. "Yeah you like it when my fat ass destroys your face."
PFFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT
He times this slam with the fart. In that moment, tears start to fall down my face. It's all too much, I'm having a hard time keeping a coherent thought.
"Open your mouth." It's like I became sober in an instant. Immediately I lock my lips so that they can't be forced open. When Brandon checks me and sees that I'm refusing. "If you open your mouth, my dick can get in easier." I know my eyes widened just as much as my mouth did. He laughed so hard before slamming his ass back down over my mouth. "Sike!"
With no time to react, I swallow down the disgusting, long fart and make a horrified noise. Brandon's whole body is shaking as he's laughing. "I can't believe you fell for that." He keeps farting as he laughs and I keep just swallowing down the disgusting butt bombs. My mouth is overwhelmed by the taste of ass and my brain is having a hard time processing any of this.
"Please stop." I try to get out, but Brandon's farting is louder than I can manage. I gag against his warm ass. "Mercy."
"Fuck. I knew when I made that shake this morning it was going to hit hard, but not this hard." Brandon wiggles his ass again on my face. "Alright, I got shit to do, lets get to the finale." He gets off of me fully and turns around. He makes eye contact as I watch his hand slide under his waistband and pulls his boxers off. His cock is fully erect and standing straight. He leans down, right hand on his cock and slaps my face over and over again with his cock as he laughs. "This is what you want right? My slab of man meat." He strokes himself over and over as all I can do is watch.
"Please?" I say despite the state of myself.
"Pathetic." He starts to lower his cock towards my mouth. "Even after getting acquainted with my ass, you still want to suck me off. What makes you think you deserve my cock?"
"Please, I'll make you feel so good." I say, not really hearing myself. "I deserve it, I've been a good boy."
He runs a hand through my hair and begins to put his cock in my mouth. "I guess you have." He moves his cock head along my lips. "You did just take all that man gas." He pretends to think and I take the moment to close my lips around his cock head. "Ah-ah-ah" He pulls his cock away. "I didn't say you could do that." From the small taste I got, I knew I needed that cock in my mouth.
Instead though, I got Brandon's naked ass slammed down onto my face with my mouth wide open.
My body jolts as the taste is even worse than when he had boxers on. He lifts up and I watch as his hairy hole leaves my face. I feel utterly broken and disgusting as his I watch his hole wink and let out more gas above my face.
"Bet that tasted nice, didn't it fag. You like it when a man takes what's his?"
"You're disgusting." I spit on the ground, partially to get the awful taste off my tongue.
"Ah, you're so sweet." He kneels above me and starts stroking his cock again. "I guess you can have a treat." As he going, I can't help flexing my own cock against my khakis. He moans lightly and continues to fart, thankfully not directly on my face this time. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hope you're ready, cause once I start shooting that's all you're getting." I willingly open my mouth again, against my better judgement. This time though, he does start to shoot his load. Barely any makes it into my mouth and instead I can feel him drenching my hair and my face with his cum. By the eighth shot, he's actually aiming for my mouth and I'm flooded with the taste of his salty semen.
Fuck it was delicious.
"Get the fuck out my office." I didn't even realize but he's already pulling his boxers back on.
I go to stand up and that's when I remember I still have hand cuffs on. "Um. Can-"
"I said get the fuck out." The face he gave me told me everything I needed to know. I got out of the office and realized, I have no where to go. Cum on my face and hair, and hand cuffs in the middle of the police department.
I rush into the bathroom, closing the door with my foot and try to come up with a plan. It's ruined when Brandon literally walks into the bathroom. "Dude, get me out of these cuffs."
He gives me a once over before locking the door and going over to the urinal. "Yeah, in a second." He pulls out his sizeable cock, not fully erect this time and starts taking a piss. "Fuck that's nice." He rips ass of course, making me jolt. He catches me, "Heh, yeah my ass has that effect."
"Fuck you." There wasn't heat behind it.
"I don't know. I think you liked it. Liked sniffing my ass like a dirty fag." He flushes the urinal and grabs and turns me around. He bends me over and humps my ass. "I bet this is what you really wanted. My fat cock pushing into your pussy."
"Dude, stop. Get me out of these cuffs." The weight of his bulge pressing against my ass was making my cock start to harden again.
"Fine." He pushes me against the wall. Bulge pressed against my ass the whole time as he unlocks my cuffs. "But don't pretend you didn't like it."
"I didn't."
"We'll see." He burps in my face and takes a finger, swipes it in cum, and pushes it into my mouth. I moan, against my will which gives him that evil grin. He leaves me, without washing his hands, disgusting.
I stand and stare at myself in the mirror. There is still a metric shit ton of cum covering my face. I can't stop myself as I start to swipe some of the cum and ingest it. Fuck it's so good. I mean, it tastes like cum, but fuck, against the backdrop of Brandon's ass, it's the best taste in the world. Another swipe and another, like a frenzied animal, I keep eating the cum.
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Shay is one of my best friends and is a proud femme sugar baby.
Shay lives in a huge Victorian house and is constantly hosting lavish parties.
Today, he’s hosting an extravagant pool party. It’s catered and everything.
I decided to bring my new boyfriend, Nick. Nick is… nice. He may not be flashy, but he is dependable.
We arrive with carry-bags containing our swimming gear.
Shay opens the door, and unsurprisingly, he’s already tipsy. He subtly rolls his eyes when he spots Nick. I'm getting used to this. All my friends think Nick is a bore. Nick is the quiet, shy type who’d rather blend into the background.
Once Shay lets us in, he pulls me to the side to give me a private warning.
“Please don’t be mad, but I invited him too. He’s also my friend.”
Before I can ask who, I see Him. All he is wearing are a small pair of black swimming trunks.
I try not to openly stare at his long, hairy, powerful legs, his sculpted porcelain skin, and his lickable rock-hard abs and pecs. And I just know from behind it looks like he has two coconuts packed in the back of his trunks.
It’s my ex, Mark.
We were a couple for six years. I loved him; I thought he was the one. And then he just vanished. While I was at work, he moved out, taking all his things with him. He completely ghosted me. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong.
I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Mark. I deserve someone whom I can trust, and that just so happens to be Nick.
Mark has the nerve to smile when he sees me. Shay makes his escape.
When Mark walks up to me, I link my hand with Nick, making a statement.
At first, Mark looks hurt, then he seems irritated.
Behind Mark, I see his three closest friends standing there. Like Mark, they’re built like himbo jocks.
Jamal, Yun, and Zack. They’ve always been nice to me.
I catch Jamal checking out Nick. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Mark gives me an appreciative once-over with his eyes. “Hey Gavin, it's really good to see you.” He says suggestively with a sexy half-grin.
I give him a curt nod with my lips pressed thin. “Mark.”
Mark smiles at Nick, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, bro, I’m Mark.” He offers his hand for a shake.
I panic, I know what Mark is planning, but it’s too late.
Nick shakes his hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Nick.”
Not missing a beat, Mark tosses a leg over their joined hands. With a powerful tug, Mark pulls Nick’s arm between his legs, causing Nick to fall to his knees, and reels him forward.
Nick falls face-first against Mark's fat, pillowy ass. Mark’s meaty orbs muffle Nick’s noises of surprise.
“Howdy Nick, say hi to my big, farting booty… NGH”
RRRRRHHHHHHBBBBBBTTTTTT
Mark farts point-blank in Nick’s face. Mark and his friends are laughing at Nick.
I swallow loudly. Mark is well aware of my farting fetish and is using it against me.
Nick tries to pull away, causing Mark to pull harder on his arm, making Nick’s face sink deeper into Mark’s ample backside.
“Haha, hold on now, my booty ain’t done with its introductions.”
BBBBBLLLLLAAAAAPPPPP
Mark blasts Nick’s face with another trumpeting fart.
Mark finally lets Nick go, allowing the eggy stench of his fart to spread throughout the entrance area. It’s both noxious and intoxicating, as I remember.
Mark’s friends are laughing again.
Nick slumps over, gagging and coughing. I get on my knees and rub Nick’s back in comfort.
With me on my knees and Mark standing and facing away from me, Mark doesn’t resist seizing the opportunity.
He swivels his hips and arches his back, jutting his bubbly mounds into my face.
“It’s been so long since my booty last talked to you, Gav. It wants to say hello.”
FFFFFWWWWW-UUUUUDDDDDD
Mark pushes out two consecutive and strong farts. They have enough force to make his doughy cheeks ripple and to rustle my hair.
My eyes sting, and I start coughing as the stench of rotten eggs and spices assaults my nose. Mark isn’t an idiot; he knows what he’s doing. He’s doing this to arouse me. And dammit, it’s working.
Mark and his jock bros are howling with laughter as they walk away. I can’t help but watch Mark’s ass in those form-fitting trunks. His brawny glutes flex and bounce with his every step.
After a minute, I help Nick up. Nick looks utterly humiliated.
I’m both annoyed and turned on. That was hot, but Nick doesn’t deserve this.
I immediately catch on that there’s something off about this party. Normally, Shay’s parties are bangers, filled with dozens of people. But there can’t be more than 10 people. And that’s including Nick, me, Mark, his friends, and Shay himself.
Nick is still coughing, so I sit him on a couch and go fetch him a glass of water from the kitchen.
I grab a clean glass out of the cabinet and go to fill it with the refrigerator's water dispenser.
As I begin, a voice startles me.
“Shay was right, that Nick guy is boring as hell.”
I look over my shoulder and see Mark posted against the wall with his bulging arms crossed.
“He’s not boring, he’s dependable.” I retort, “He won’t just disappear and ghost me like somebody else I know.” I comment, before turning back to my current task.
I thought that my words would have angered him, but Mark laughs. I then hear the slapping of bare feet against the floor as he nears me.
I nearly drop the cup when Mark wraps his strong arms around my chest, pulling my back against his cobblestone-like abs and chest.
He hooks his chin over my shoulder and softly croons. “You're not fooling me, Gav. I know he doesn’t make you happy like I did.”
Mark takes my chin in between his thumb and index finger, and turns my face towards his. Are noses are almost touching.
“Does he take care of your needs? Needs like this.” Mark swallows a mouthful of air. After a moment, Mark opens his mouth wide, right in front of my face.
BBBBUUUURRRRPPPP
Mark belches loudly right in my face, spraying me with his spittle. I groan as the smell of bile and spoiled milk hits my nose.
He then puckers his lips and blows the residual gas into my face.
Mark laughs again, knowing he’s rattling me.
I shudder as I feel his lips grazing my ear. His deep voice softly rumbles in my ear.
“This is how things are gonna play out: my farts are either gonna kill Nick or chase him off. By the end of the night, I’ll be sitting on your face and force-feeding you more Mark Missiles than you can handle. That's a promise.”
He doesn’t call his farts Mark Missiles for nothing. I’m well aware of how devastating they can be.
“That’s not going to happen,” I mutter, unconvincingly.
“Oh really?”
He turns my face towards his again, making me watch him swallow another mouthful of air.
BBBUUURRRPPP… blow
“Is he as nasty as me?”
BBBUUURRRPPP… blow
“Is he as gassy as me?”
BBBUUURRRPPP… blow
“Can he take down a whole bar of men with his farts, to keep you safe like I can?”
I whimper at that. I’ve jerked off more times than I can count, to that memory.
Mark and I accidentally stumbled into a bar that wasn’t gay friendly. Things looked like they were about to get violent. Mark spun around and pulled down the back of his jeans, mooning everyone in the establishment. Mark immediately started cranking out one beefy fart after another. In under a minute, all of our would-be attackers were unconscious on the ground.
I close my eyes, trying to shut the memory and Mark’s words out of my head.
“Nick is good for me.”
Mark releases me, chuckling. “Are you sure? Could he ever give you this?”
A moment later, I feel a big, warm, firm yet malleable object pressing against my lower back.
FFFFFVVVVVRRRRRDDDDD
“Ah, my big, farting booty and I will be seeing you and Nick very soon, Gav.”
With that, Mark departs. Right behind him are those meaty globes bouncing and wobbling like twin Jell-O molds.
I’m left alone in a thick fart cloud that reeks of digested meat.
I eventually return to Nick, who’s still sitting on the couch. I hand him the glass of water and sit next to him.
“I’m really sorry about Mark, Nick.”
Nick takes a sip of water and nods once, “It’s alright.”
I’m about to say something when I spot movement out of the corner of my eye. I notice Mark standing behind the couch, right behind Nick, with his back towards him.
Mark bends over, extending out his big ass, and making contact with the back of Nick’s head.
Mark’s eyes connect with mine. He scrunches up his face in concentration.
BBBBBMMMMMUUUUUTTTTT
VVVVVWWWWWAAAAADDDDD
FFFFFDDDDDOOOOOMMMMM
Mark rips 3 back-to-back, tuba-sounding farts on the back of Nick’s head.
Mark's noxious fumes quickly envelop the couch. It has my face reddening, and puts Nick into a coughing fit.
Mark pulls his butt away from the back of Nick’s head and is laughing along with his entourage.
“Will you stop picking on him, Mark?” I huff in annoyance.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Mark rounds the couch, in either of his hands are two small and fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres placed on napkins.
“Here,” Mark offers one to Nick. “To show I’m sorry.”
Nick gives a quick little smile before popping the hors d'oeuvre into his mouth.
At first, I think Mark’s being genuine, but then I notice him biting his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. And the rest of his bros are doing the same.
As soon as Nick swallows it and thanks Mark, the four of them break out into hysterical laughter, driven to tears.
Mark points at Nick, while staring at me, teary-eyed, still laughing his ass off. “Haha, fucking gross, Gav. This loser just ate something I farted on and liked it, haha.”
Once Mark calms down, he shoots Nick an impish grin. “Well, if you like that one so much, then have another.”
Mark brings the remaining hors d'oeuvre behind him self and right in front of his bulbous posterior.
PPPPPLLLLLAAAAARRRRR
Mark seasons the treat with his butt funk, straight from his bioweapon of an ass.
It all happens faster than I can react. Jamal steps up from behind and holds Nick’s head still. With his free hand, Mark pinches Nick’s nose closed. Nick’s mouth instinctively falls open, and Mark pops the farted-on hors d’oeuvre inside.
Mark quickly spins around and plants the overpacked backside of his trunks on Nick’s open-mouthed face, smothering him.
“How about we wash that damn with a big, warm glass of my farts… NGH”
VVVVVVVVVVHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP
Mark rips a growling fart into Nick’s open mouth. My eyes are transfixed on the small lump traveling down Nick’s throat.
Once Mark frees Nick from his ass, Nick is dry-heaving. Mark and his bros are laughing like it is the funniest thing they have ever seen.
I’ve never felt so horrified/ turned on. My hands curl into fists on my lap to hide my growing problem.
“Mark-” I start to admonish him, but Mark cuts me off.
“No need to be jealous, Gav, I got you.” He looks behind me and calls, “Yo, Zack, hors d’oeuvre me.”
A hors d’oeuvre is tossed from somewhere behind me, and Mark catches it out of the air.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he brings the finger food behind his ass. He narrows his eyes and…
FFFFFGGGGGHHHHHTTTTT
Staring slack-jawed is both a blessing and a curse on my part.
Mark shoves the finger food into my mouth and quickly follows it up by parking his fat dumper onto my face.
RRRRRBBBBBVVVVVDDDDD
Mark vents a chainsaw-sounding fart into my mouth. His butt bomb has enough force to jettison the tainted hors d’oeuvre down my gullet, almost making me choke.
Mark’s ass vapors inflate my cheeks and coat the inside of my mouth. The acrid taste has me curling forward, retching. I do this purposely to hide my arousal.
“Mark, will you stop?” I haggardly rasp.
With a devilish grin, Mark says, “Sure, I’ll stop.”
Jamal, Yun, and Zack are not only built like Mark, they sport huge bubble butts and are just as gassy as he is.
Mark’s bros partake in the fun. With them behind the couch, they take a page out of Mark’s playbook.
Yun’s ass suddenly pops out from behind, to the left side of my face. Zack’s ass extends out from the right side of Nick’s face. And Jamal’s ass juts out from between our faces. Simultaneously…
BBBBWWWWTTTTPPPP
RRRRFFFFMMMMDDDD
VVVVOOOOHHHHFFFF
The air around Nick’s and my head is poisoned with several different brands of fetid ass gas.
The three fan the air behind their asses toward our noses, and snickering while they do it.
Still standing in front of us, Mark spins around, “Now I’m starting to feel left out and that just ain’t fair. Get some of this.” He hikes up his right leg.
BBBBBRRRRRUUUUUFFFFF
Mark pushes out a quack-sounding fart that ends on a wet note. His skunky wind re-dominates the area, making Nick and me gag and cough even more.
The four of them make for the exit laughing and high-fiving, leaving the room thoroughly butt-nuked.
It takes Nick a few minutes to regain himself. I’m fine, on the other hand. My years with Mark have granted me a resistance against the stench. I’m more pressed about making my arousal less conspicuous.
Nick is once again mortified.
We decided to go change into our swim gear and hit the pool.
Guest rooms in the back of the house are the designated changing rooms for pool parties here.
On our way, we run into Mark and his crew coming the opposite way. They’re walking down the hall in a row.
Going by Mark’s lopsided grin, things are gonna get good for me and bad for Nick.
Before passing us, Mark says, “Choo-choo, boys, the fart trains left the station.”
As Mark passes us, he twists his hip and farts on Nick and me.
FFFFFDDDDDMMMMMMRRRRR
We are sprayed with his ass gas that stinks of raw sewage and garlic.
Jamal is walking right behind Mark. It’s his turn. He swivels his hips and farts on us next.
MMMMWWWWVVVVPPPP
Next is Yun.
BBBBAAAAFFFFDDDD
Finishing us off is Zack.
VVVVRRRR-PPPPBBBB
After taking their four-pronged, gassy drive-by, Nick is gagging again. I’m feeling like I’m gonna lose my mind.
I give Nick a comforting smile. “Nick, go change into your swim trunks. I’m gonna go talk to my ex, and stop this foolishness.”
I can see the worry in his eyes, but he gives me a hesitant nod.
Nick continues down the hall; I turn around to catch up with the line of big-butted hunks.
With Zack in the back, he looks over his shoulder and spots me coming.
With a cocky grin, he calls. “Looks like we have another fart train heading out for departure, boys.”
Zack starts it off this time. He twists his hips and blasts me.
BBBBMMMMDDDDTTTT
Next is Yun.
RRRRWWWWUUUUBBBB
Then Jamal.
VVVVTTTTOOOOFFFF
This is like my personalized wet dream come true, but I ignore it.
Before Mark can fart on me, I grab him by the shoulder and pull him into a nearby bathroom, alone. I lock the door behind us.
With a toothy grin, Mark spins around and presses his bubble butt against my hip. “You know me, baby. I’m not skipping my turn. All aboard… GGH”
BBBBBRRRRR-FFFFFHHHHH-AAAAAPPPPPP
Mark rips a chain of farts on me. It reeks of Mark’s personal brand of eggy butt funk.
Mark flashes me a victorious grin after noticing I’m hard.
“Don’t call me baby, Mark. I’m with Nick now.”
This causes Mark’s grin to broaden. “For now, but we both know that your face and my booty are the ultimate dream couple.” He finishes with a shit-eating grin.”
I stop avoiding the elephant in the room. “Why did you completely vanish from me?”
That wipes the smirk off his face.
“Did I make you feel unsafe? Or did you grow out of our fart kink? Did it become too gross for you?” I press.
Mark remains quiet for a full minute. At first, I don’t think he’s gonna answer me, but finally, “Gavin, before I left, I was unemployed for a year, while you kept getting promotions. You were supporting us both comfortably. A mutual friend of ours got into my head and convinced me that you were too good for me, so I left.”
This hits me like a freight train, and I start to get mad on Mark’s behalf. Before I can ask who this friend was, Mark gives me a lopsided grin and says, “Don’t worry.” Mark turns to the side, giving me a profile view of himself. He reaches back, cups his right butt cheek, and gives it a jiggle. “My booty recently had strong words for his face.”
Mark then lifts his right leg slightly and poots.
I laugh and blush.
“I’ve been working on myself over the past year, Gavin. I’ve worked on my self-confidence, and I’ve got a good-paying job.
Gavin, we have always been perfect for each other. We have the same tastes, we can talk for hours and hours about nothing in particular, and still have fun. And you're the only one who can stand my non-stop farting ass.” He says, making us both laugh.
With half-lidded eyes and a sultry voice, Mark says, “And you're the only person I’ve met who enjoys taking my farts almost as much as I enjoy farting on them.”
I am severely conflicted. I believe that Mark has changed. I want to reunite with him; we’ve always been happy together.
But then there’s Nick.
“Mark, I-I still love you, b-but I-I can’t. Nick-”
My stuttering excuse does nothing to deter Mark’s smile. “Losing you isn't an option for me, so I gotta play dirty. And you know me, baby, I play very dirty.”
Before I know it, Mark pushes me down onto my knees, sandwiching me with the door against my back and his generous bulge right in my face.
Mark turns around, his black trunks-clad, bountiful bum dominates my entire field of view. Without missing a beat. He quickly grips the waistband of the back of his trunks and pulls them down.
His pillowy moons pour out of their confines and bounce out into the open. My mouth practically salivates as I eyeball his pale, mountainous orbs covered in a dusting of black hair.
A year ago, I was gifted with this mouth-watering view every night, and I miss it so much.
My nose is only inches away from his sweaty crack. The smell of manly ass musk and chlorine fills my nostrils.
“In you go.”
Mark thrusts his hips back, slamming his titanic rear end into my face. I find myself trapped with the back of my head pinned against the door, and my face entombed between his fleshy globes.
PPPPPBBBBBHHHHHVVVVV
“There, that dirty enough for ya?” FART “Oh yeah, you know you love it.” FART “My booty is the only thing that can fulfill your Mark Missile addiction.” FART “Having trouble breathing down there? Maybe this will help.” FART “You deserve better than that wimpy little Nick.” FART “You deserve me, a literal farting god… NGH”
FFFFFFAAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTT
Mark pumps out fart after fart, point-blank in my face, poisoning my lungs with his toxic intestinal vapors.
I’m moments away from shooting when Mark suddenly stops. He takes a few steps forward, releasing my face from his ass. I blink rapidly from being reintroduced to light. I look up, making eye contact with Mark, who’s watching me over his shoulder.
“Why did you stop?” I whine.
“Only my boyfriends are treated to my Mark Missiles on demand. It’s either Nick or my fat, gassy booty. Choose wisely.” Mark gives me an ultimatum and pulls his trunks back up.
Mark slides me aside, away from the door, so he can leave.
As Mark walks out, at the last second, he twists his hips, aiming his blimp of a posterior at my face.
BBBBBFFFFFVVVVVPPPPP
Mark blasts my face with a noxious, nose-hair-burning fart.
“Ah, take that. A reminder of what’s on the line."
He closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom.
I pull myself out of my jeans and grab some tissue. With a few strokes, I unload into the tissue.
After flushing away the evidence, I feel both guilty and more resolute about what I’ve got to do. I know I have to break up with Nick, but I hate that I’m going to hurt him.
As soon as I leave the bathroom, I run into a living brick wall covered in caramel skin. It’s Jamal.
“You good?” He asks, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Uh, yeah,” I answer, feeling confused. We’ve rarely talked alone.
A guilty expression washes over Jamal’s face. “Look, I want to apologize for the shit we’ve been putting Nick and you through.” Jamal wipes his hand down his face, “Shit, we’ve been acting like the bullies we were in high school. It was all Mark’s idea.”
Jamal looks from left to right and lowers his voice before continuing. “He’s probably gonna sit on my face and keep farting until I pass out for me telling you this, but Mark still loves you.”
I don’t know why, but I reply honestly, “I love him too, but Nick doesn’t deserve me just ditching him. And everyone disregards him as quiet and boring.”
I wasn’t expecting Jamal to flash me a cheeky smirk. “Oh, there’s no need to feel guilty about Nick. I’ve had eyes on him since the moment you two walked in. I, for one, love the quiet ones. The quiet ones are always the freakiest.” He waggles his eyebrows before walking off, leaving me stunned.
I blink a couple of times, taking in what Jamal just said. Nick? Freaky? I can hardly comprehend such a concept.
But I am grateful for being unburdened with the guilt. I know Jamal is a good and faithful guy. He will treat Nick right.
With a clear head, I go out to the pool in the back.
I spot Shay completely drunk and passed out on a nearby lounge chair.
Nick is standing on the other side of the pool, looking miserable and uncomfortable.
Jamal and Mark are standing on either side of Nick, facing away from him. Nick’s boxed in between their bubble butts.
Jamal is talking with Zack, and Mark is talking with Yun. While they talk as if everything is normal, Mark and Jamal keep farting on Nick. And these weren’t little poots, they were big, trumpeting farts.
BBBBBFFFFFRRRRRPPPPP
VVVVVHHHHHWWWWWFFFFF
RRRRRUUUUU-MMMMMTTTTT
PPPPPMMMMMAAAAABBBBB
FFFFFOOOOODDDDDMMMMM
BBBBBVVVVVAAAAARRRRR
Every time Nick takes a few steps away, Jamal and Mark follow suit, boxing Nick back in between their two gassy asses.
FFFFFAAAAAOOOOOPPPPP
PPPPPUUUUUHHHHHDDDDD
MMMMMFFFFF-PPPPPTTTTT
VVVVVOOOOOWWWWWFFFFF
For the first time today, I don’t feel annoyed at them fart-bullying Nick. Instead, I’m feeling jealous of Nick. I want to be in his place.
I walk up to Mark, catching him off guard. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. Everyone goes quiet, watching in shock.
Kissing Mark feels perfect; kissing him feels like everything is right with the world.
When I pull away, I can feel myself smiling. Mark is smiling too, but we aren’t the only ones. So are Jamal, Zack, and Yun. However, Nick's look of betrayal is heartbreaking.
Before I can say anything, Jamal lifts Nick and fireman-carries him over his shoulder. “Since you’re no longer spoken for, you’re mine now, cutie.”
Jamal carries Nick off. Mark, Yun, Zack, and I watch slackjawed as they disappear inside. Shay doesn’t; he’s still blackout drunk.
We remain silent, staring at the now-empty doorway in shock for quite a while.
Like deja vu, I yelp. Mark hefts me onto his shoulder; it’s my turn to get fireman-carried.
“Ha, knew you couldn’t resist me. Glad to have you as mine again.” Mark declares triumphantly and carries me inside like a caveman.
If his friends replied, I didn’t hear them. I was too busy watching his upside-down bubbly globes in motion. With his stride, his fat cheeks jiggle and clap right in my face.
Once we're inside, Mark carries me upstairs.
During parties, Shay allows people to occupy the guest rooms upstairs.
As we ascend the stairs, Mark’s quiet, but his ass, which is right in my face, isn’t.
PPBBTT, FFHHBB, RRBBDD, MMWWFF, VVUURR
When we reach the second floor, Mark sets me on my feet, grinning at me sultrily.
Mark’s sporting a huge boner in his trunks, just like me. He takes me by the hand and we try for the first guestroom. When Mark opens the door, we find that the room is occupied.
Jamal’s trunks are down, pooled around his feet, and he’s bent over, bracing his hands on the bed.
Nick is on his knees, right behind him, with his face buried deep between Jamal’s big, caramel cheeks.
Jamal is groaning with pleasure. “Oh, there you go, baby. Eat my nasty, farting hole.”
BBBBBFFFFFTTTTTDDDDD
Mark quickly and quietly closes the door so we don’t interrupt anything.
“Wow, I wasn’t really expecting that. But that was hot as hell.” I blurt out, not really thinking.
A devilish grin stretches across Mark’s lips. “Oh, is that right? How about we have our own nasty fun?” He huskily groans, sending shivers down my spine.
I’m unable to speak, so I nod my head. He leads me down the hall and tries another door. Success. It’s empty.
Once we’re inside and the door is locked behind us, Mark lays me out on my back on the bed.
I lift my head, watching Mark standing in front of the foot of the bed. He unties his trunks, letting them fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing pole and hairy, plum-sized bull balls.
Mark climbs into the bed; he’s not playing around, and I appreciate that.
Mark crawls up and kneels over my head. He spreads his knees wide on the mattress, lowering himself down and taking a seat on my upturned face.
My face disappears between his fleshy, round cheeks.
“Lips on hole, fart-eater.” I hear Mark’s voice rumble above me.
Mark wiggles his ass from side to side, getting comfortable on my face. Soon enough, I feel his sweaty hole kissing my lips.
I don’t even need to be told, I stick out my tongue, rimming Mark, thrusting my tongue into his pucker, tasting him.
I feel Mark’s huge body shudder with pleasure while he’s seated on my face.
“Damn, baby, I’ve missed your magical tongue so much. You must be desperate for my Mark Missiles. Well, I aim to please… GGH”
I feel Mark’s hole open and push outward around my tongue and against my lips.
FFFFFWWWWWPPPPPBBBBB
Mark launches a noxious-smelling butt bomb into my open mouth, inflating my cheeks with his ass wind.
The raunchy stench of raw sewage and spices brings tears to my eyes, but also works me up into a frenzy. I start lapping at his hole like a madman.
“That’s it, you crazy fucker, eat my sweaty shit-hole. Earn every single one of my nasty Mark Missiles… HGH”
MMMMMRRRRRAAAAAPPPPP
PPPPPLLLLLUUUUURRRRR
“MMM, more tongue, Gav. My big booty’s orders. What it says, goes… FGH”
RRRRRWWWWW-UUUUUOOOOO-HHHHHBBBBB
“Fuck yeah, baby, keep putting a smile on big Mark’s face and my booty will keep lighting your face up with Mark Missiles… GHH”
PPPPPDDDDDMMMMMVVVVV
FFFFFBBBBBAAAAARRRRR
BBBBBVVVVVOOOOOTTTTT
“Get comfortable, sweetheart, you're going to be servicing my cornhole for a while… GGHH”
I should be happy, after all, I’m living the dream. I have a lucrative job that pays me six figures, and I already own a huge, five-bedroom, four-bathroom house, and I’m only 26.
But then there’s Denise, my wife. I married her when I was 23; we dated for only 6 months. She initially lied, claiming to be 30 when she was actually in her late 40s. She’s good with make-up.
Denise also has a son, Jacob, who is nearly as old as me. I never met Jacob in person. Before our marriage, Jacob turned 18, and Denise kicked him out of their home and her life. I felt guilty about that, so I did something. I got in contact with him and enrolled him in a private and prestigious college. His tuition and housing were expensive, but it helped ease my conscience.
Denise revealed her true colors after we got married. She is a horrible woman. She belittles me, she goes on weekly shopping sprees, and although I can’t prove it, I know she’s cheating on me. She’s rarely ever home, and when she is, she reeks of sex. I want to divorce her, but I have no proof. In court, I could lose my house and half my bank account. Fuck my younger self for not getting a prenup.
So yeah, thanks to Denise, my life is miserable.
It’s 8 at night and I’m home alone, as usual. I’m in my home office, going over some papers, when I receive a text from an unknown number.
Unknown number: Hey, Dad, I’m coming to stay with you. Be there in an hour
I frowned while reading this. Probably a wrong number.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown number: Don’t be silly, Dad, it’s me, your son, Jacob.
My eyes widen when I find out it’s Jacob. He’s 22 and recently graduated from college. Well, he is Denise’s kid, so I guess I have to take him in.
Me: You’re welcome here. But with our small age difference, you don’t need to call me Dad.
Jacob: We’ll talk about it when I get there, Dad.
What’s with this Dad nonsense? I think to myself as I shake my head.
I’ve barely had any interaction with Jacob. When he started college, I also bought and sent him a cell phone. He texted me that night, thanking me for everything I’m doing for him.
Another night, I caught Denise screaming at him over the phone. She was calling him a disappointment, a mistake, and a f*g. I hated it.
Later that night, I texted him that I was bisexual, and he should be proud of himself.
He texted back if we could FaceTime, and I agreed. As soon as we saw each other, his face crumpled. He muttered, ‘It’s unfair. She gets everything.’ before ending the call. And that’s about it for our interaction.
At 9:30, there’s a knock on the door. When I answer it, I’m shocked by what I find.
Jacob is much bigger than that lanky young man I remember FaceTiming with. He looks to be about six-foot-two, towering over my five-foot-ten stature. He’s ripped with muscle. He’s wearing black sweats and a black wifebeater. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
He’s flashing this easy little smirk. “So, you gonna let me in, Dad?” He asks, teasingly.
Hmm? Hearing him verbally call me Dad is a little uncomfortable.
I return a shaky smile. “Of course, sorry about that, Jacob, please come in.” I step aside.
I do a double-take as Jacob walks past me, my eyes falling to his insanely round and fat ass. It is the textbook example of a bubble butt. His spherical cheeks jiggle hypnotically with each step.
“So where’s my room?” Jacob questions, that teasing tone still in his voice. I look up and see him looking back at me, over his shoulder, with a pleased expression. Shit, I was caught staring.
I show Jacob to our guest room. It’s nothing special: a king-size bed, a chair and desk, a walk-in closet, and an adjoining bathroom.
“Do you need help unpacking?” I offer.
He shoots me a boyish grin that has my ears heating up. “No, but I’d like your company, Dad.”
'Dad'? Again?
I take a seat in the desk chair and we talk. Well, I mostly listen as he tells me what he’s been up to. I say nothing about me being completely miserable since I married his mom.
“I'm not too keen on you calling me Dad.” I address the elephant in the room.
Jacob shrugs, unbothered. “You’ll get used to it.” I'm not expecting him to look at me so pointedly, with such open desire gleaming in his eyes. “You’re my Dad. You. Are. Mine.” He finishes.
A shiver runs through me at the possessiveness. And I don't hate it.
The conversation takes a turn.
“Before I started college, I stopped by while you were at work and Mom was here, alone. I pretended to have a sort of goodbye lunch with her. While I was here, I snuck off and took a look at your personal computer. Luckily for me, you left it unlocked.” Jacob side-eyes me, “What I found was quite eye-opening.”
I go pale. Is he implying what I think he is?
On my computer, I have straight and gay porn. My straight porn is vanilla, but my gay porn is raunchy. I have a farting fetish. Guy’s farting does it for me.
Jacob starts talking again, regaining my attention. “I’m very grateful for you taking me in, Dad. Your son has brought you a thank-you gift. I think you’re gonna like it.”
Jacob starts backing up in my direction, where I’m still sitting in the chair. My face is on level with his bubbly backside.
In a second, I’m face-to-face with his dump-truck of an ass, that is stretching the back of his sweats to their limit. Those two melon-sized cheeks are giving his sweats a run for their money.
I can’t move. I don’t want to move.
I gawk as his glutes flex and then relax.
BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWPPPPPPPPPP
A 12-second fart explodes out of his ass and right into my face. It’s loud, sounding like a bassy trumpet, and it is strong enough to blow my hair back. Then there’s the smell. It stinks of rotten eggs and spices, making my eyes tear up.
Jacob takes a step forward and peers down at me, over his shoulder. “Sorry about that, Pops. I didn’t see you back there.” He lies with a shit-eating grin. “You should know your son is a very gassy man. I fart a lot. I guess I’m more like a stink-son than a step-son.” He finishes with a wink.
I hesitantly smile as I stand up. I need to leave, I’m getting harder by the second.
“Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I turn and leave. As I reach the door…
BBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMPPPPPPPP
I look back. Jacob’s standing there with his left leg cocked up, flashing me a lopsided grin.
I force myself to leave the room even though I want to stay and bask in his eggy fumes.
What if he’s vindictive like his mother? Trying to milk me bone-dry. I have to be on guard.
I get a restless sleep tonight.
The next morning, I take a shower and get dressed for work. When I step out of my bedroom, I smell something delicious coming from the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen and find Jacob cooking breakfast. He’s just wearing black basketball shorts; his chiseled upper body is on full display. He made pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns.
“Good morning, Dad. Want some breakfast?” Jacob offers me a full plate, surprising me. Someone doing something like this for me, in my home, feels so foreign.
And he’s still calling me Dad.
“Thank you, Jacob.”
After taking the plate, he asks, “Oh, did you want some eggs, Dad?”
I don’t see any eggs cooking, but I agree.
Jacob spins around and pushes out his bubbly ass, pressing it against my hip. “Get ‘em while they’re hot… GGH”
FFFFFFFFFFFFMMMMMMMMM-HHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRR
Jacob rips two consecutive farts on me. I feel it rumbling against my side. In seconds, I’m surrounded by a fart cloud that stinks of rotten eggs.
Jacob turns around and says, “Mmm, smells scrumptious, don’t it, Pops.” He teases, flashing a cocky smirk.
I awkwardly laugh, “Ha, good one, Jacob.” I turn around, heading for the dining room, hiding my growing hard-on.
Jacob follows me with his own plate.
We sit down and talk while eating breakfast. It’s nice. For the first morning in a while, I don’t feel so lonely.
The food is good, but it has a peculiar smell and aftertaste. It’s ignorable, but there.
“Would you like some more bacon, Dad?” Jacob offers when he sees that I’ve finished them.
I guess I'd better get used to him calling me ‘Dad’ and ‘Pops’.
“Yes, please.”
Jacob leaves and returns with several strips of bacon on a piece of paper towel. He rounds the table, standing next to me, and slides them onto my plate.
Before I can resume eating, Jacob stops me. “Not so fast, Dad, I’ve got to season it first.”
Jacob spins around and backs up. His protruding globes hover inches above my food, casting a shadow that covers the entire plate.
I look up and find Jacob smirking back down at me. His face then contorts in concentration, and he grunts.
BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP
Jacob pushes out a 6-second, wet fart, coating my food with his butt fumes.
I can smell his raunchy ass gas mingling with the smell of the food. That explains the aftertaste.
Jacob isn’t done. With a twist of his hips, the side of my face sinks against his meaty orbs.
Pppssshhhh
I feel his silent fart heat my cheek.
I’m slack-jawed, aroused, and coughing on his farts. Jacob sits back down, mischief playing in his eyes.
“What? I’m your stink-son; there should’ve never been any doubt that my sweaty booty would season your food. You’re welcome, Pops.”
Jacob watches with a victorious grin as I eat my fart-flavored breakfast. I’ve never been so hard in my life.
Thankfully, I remember that this is Denise’s son. Being a gold digger is in Jacob’s blood. He could be using my fetish against me.
That thought pushes away my previous arousal.
I give Jacob a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks for breakfast.”
A look of rejection flashes across his face for a second.
I stand up. Jacob jumps up as well and stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder. He stands beside me.
Jacob flashes me an easy smile, “Have a good day at work, Pops.” he turns his back to me and bends over slightly, planting his bulbous backside against my hip. “Hope this helps… FGH”
RRRRBBBB-PPPPHHHH-UUUUFFFF
Jacob rips a string of short but loud farts on me. I bite my bottom lip, stifling my moan. I make my escape for work.
For most people, combing over spreadsheets and numbers would be stressful, but not for me. I live for it. I treat it as an escape from my miserable home life.
Today, my escape is being impeded by Jacob and all the texts and vids he keeps sending me.
Jacob: Pops, I’ve been farting non-stop since you left. I hope you don’t mind returning to the whole place reeking of my swamp ass.
Jacob: Pops, my last farts have been so loud that I’m using your pillow to muffle them. I’m sure you won’t mind.
That message is accompanied by a clip of Jacob pressing my pillow against his shorts-clad bubbly ass.
BBBFFF-HHHTTT-PPPRRR
Trying to work while being teased is not ideal.
It’s lunchtime, and Jacob isn’t done yet.
Jacob: We seem to be running low on eggs. No worries, I’ll restock the fridge with my gas-form ones. No need to thank me, just being a good stink-son.
The clip that accompanies the message is of Jacob opening the refrigerator, turning around, and sticking his butt inside.
RRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVVVVLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPP
Jacob rips a long, growling 15-second fart. He swivels and rotates his hips as he farts, making sure to coat all the food with his butt stink.
I rewatch this several times.
Jacob: I’m kinda bored, Dad, so I’m entertaining myself by farting on all your stuff.
I received a string of clips of Jacob farting on some of my stuff. I’ve been sent a clip of him farting on my bed, a pair of my shoes, my Rolex, my cufflinks, several suits, the TV remote, my phone charger, and into the coffee mug I use every morning.
This felt like one of the longest work days I’ve ever had. Jacob was relentless. I couldn’t go 15 minutes without Jacob sending me a video of him farting. I had a perpetual hard-on throughout my entire day.
The moment I slink back into the house and close the front door behind me, Jacob pounces.
Jacob turns the corner, heading straight for me with a cocky smirk dancing across his lips. He’s still shirtless and wearing those black basketball shorts.
“Finally, you’re back, Dad. I need you.”
“Is, is everything okay?” I stutter out.
Jacob corners me, trapping me between him and the front door. “No, we have a bit of a problem. It’s been hours since I last farted on you.” Jacob spins around and backs his titanic and fleshy ass into my lower stomach. I grunt, my back hitting the door. I’m literally sandwiched between the front door and his meaty orbs.
Jacob looks back at me, over his shoulder, his smirk broadening into a sharkish grin. “Now be a good Dad and let your gassy stink-son skunk you out.”
Jacob narrows his eyes and bites his bottom lip.
FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPP
MMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLTTTTTTTTTT
RRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDD
Jacob rips 3 consecutive, long, and trumpeting farts on me. The front hall quickly fills with the stench of rotten eggs and onions.
My body jolts instinctively wanting to push Jacob away, but this only causes Jacob to press his ass harder against my lower midsection.
“Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily, Dad. You're gonna take all of your stink-son’s nasty farts.”
FART “Oh,” FART “Ah,” FART “That felt good,” FART “Hah, that was a wet one,” FART “Stop struggling, Dad,” FART “It’s useless,” FART “Just take your stink-son’s farts,” FART “You’ve got no choice,”
FFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTT
Jacob rips a barrage of farts on me, and I’ve just stepped into my house. His last fart was a big one that lasted 17 seconds.
Once he’s done, I’m all sweaty with a throbbing hard-on. It’s taking all my self-control not to shoot in my boxers.
Jacob finally steps forward and turns to face me. He has an accomplished grin, knowing he’s responsible for my disheveled appearance.
Jacob nods his head deeper into the house. “Come on, Dad, it's supper time. I made dinner.”
I follow Jacob to the dining room. He’s cooked us baked chicken and green beans. I’m almost choked up. It's been so long since I’ve come home from work to a home-cooked meal.
Jacob pulls the chair out for me. After sitting down, Jacob bends down, and a shiver runs through me when his lips brush against my ear.
“No worries, Dad, I already made sure to dress up your food with my noxious butt funk. You're welcome.” I can feel Jacob’s lips curling into a smirk before he pulls away. But Jacob isn’t done yet.
Next thing I know, I feel two big and warm, fleshy yet firm objects pressing against the back of my head.
MMMMMMMMMBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP
Jacob rips a 7-second, growling fart against the back of my head. I’m immediately engulfed in a fart cloud that stinks of methane and Jacob’s specific brand of swamp ass.
Jacob rounds the table and sits down across from me, all while flashing that cocky smirk. He’s as arrogant as he is sexy.
“You’re the best, Dad. You are hands down my favorite person to fart on. I’ll never get tired of forcing my butt stink on you.”
Jacob is merciless. He’s had me aroused all day. I don’t think he'll stop til I blow in my boxers.
Thankfully, Jacob eases up as we eat and talk, though it doesn’t hide the taste and smell of the fact that he farted on my food.
It’s so nice to talk about my day and have someone who actually listens. When Denise and I were first dating, she asked me about my day, but I could tell she wasn’t really listening. But Jacob is. He adds comments and asks questions as I talk. It’s so refreshing.
The food was delicious, and, for me at least, Jacob farting on it made it even tastier. I finished it all.
“Thanks for dinner, Jacob. With this, combined with breakfast, it’s obvious that you’re a very talented cook.” I compliment. Jacob beams with pride.
I receive one text, and my night is immediately dampened. It’s Denise.
“Is everything alright?” Jacob asks.
I give Jacob a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Everything’s fine. It’s just your mom. She wants me to wire her some more money.”
“Where is she? Why does she need money?” Jacob questions with a frown.
“She’s off trying to become some online influencer. She needs the money for living expenses and to make connections. It's my duty as her husband to support her.” I explain. I can’t look up; I already know I’m pathetic. It’s obvious she’s just traveling, partying, and being unfaithful.
When I do gain the courage to look up, for a split second, I see what looks like jealousy flashing across Jacob’s face. But now he’s impishly grinning at me, and I can see a devilish glint in his eyes.
Jacob stands up abruptly, making his chair skid back and startling me.
“Dad, stop thinking about my mom. I’m sure she’s fine.” Jacob starts as he cockily swaggers towards me. “After a long day of hard work, you deserve something special tonight. Something you’ll never forget. And your stink-son here is gonna give it to you.” He comes to a stop in front of me, still sitting in my chair.
I grunt in surprise when Jacob grabs me by the shoulders and stands me up.
“Jacob wha-” I’m cut off when Jacob shows off his impressive strength. He easily tosses me onto his shoulder into a fireman carry with ease. I’m not too mad since I’m face-to-face with Jacob’s dump truck of an ass filling out his shorts.
“All aboard the Jacob Express, choo-choo.” Jacob teases and then hikes up his leg, pelting my upside-down face with…
FFFFFFFFFBBBBBBB-RRRRRRPPPPPPPP
My hands find Jacob’s waist as he starts walking. He isn’t even breaking a sweat or winded as he carries me through the house. Jacob, not holding back, continues to poot in my face with every step; his gait never faltering.
Ppbbtt, rrwwbb, mmvvpp, bbrrdd
Soon enough, we’re in my bedroom. Jacob tosses me onto my bed. Jacob follows me onto the bed and starts crawling up my body on his hands and knees.
When he gets high enough up my body, he stops and straightens up, straddling my chest. He’s looking down at me with a sexy little grin that’s promising me his flatulence.
In the back of my head, a voice is screaming that this is a bad idea. Jacob might be in cahoots with his mother. Maybe he’s filming this, and they’re gonna use this in the divorce to take away most of my assets.
But my throbbing hard-on is drowning out my caution.
Jacob maneuvers himself around so he’s straddling my chest but facing away from me. My breath catches as his protruding cakes, pushing the stitching of his shorts to their limit, fill my view.
Jacob grabs the waistband of his shorts and starts pulling them down. And of course, he’s freeballing. Jacob has the shimmy his hips a bit to work them down his fat ass. I can't look away as I watch all that ass meat pour and jiggle out as he works down his shorts further and further.
Once Jacob’s bubbly ass is free, his twin, fleshy moons bounce ominously right over my face. His two globes are as big as basketballs. They’re tan and covered with a light dusting of black hair.
I desperately want Jacob to sit on my face. I want him to fart on my face again and again, and never stop until I forget what fresh air smells like.
However, there’s a possibility that this could all be a setup.
“Jacob, we can’t-”
“Shh, shh,” Jacob gently coos. “Just lie there, and let your stink-son’s fat, nasty ass smother you,” Jacob says seductively. He slowly lowers his meaty ass onto my face. His cheeks part as he descends, giving me a glimpse of his winking, fur-surrounded pucker.
“You have no choice, Daddy, my booty owns you.” With that, Jacob eases completely down, my face getting swallowed up in between his pillowy mounds. Everything goes dark. All I can breathe in is the raunchy air in his sweaty, cavernous crack.
Jacob shifts from side to side, getting comfortable on my face. He doesn’t stop until his hole is pressed against my nostrils.
“Buckle up, Dad, your son’s about to rock your world… HGH”
BBBBBBBBHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP
“Oh yeah, don’t underestimate my butt, Dad. It’s unstoppable… GGH”
FFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVVVVOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM
“Ah, have some of that. How does your son’s butt taste… NGH”
VVVVVVVVVVDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR
“Now, now, Dad, stop struggling down there. There’s no escaping your son’s big booty… RFG”
DDDDDDDDDDDWWWWWWWWUUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFF
“I ain’t finished with you yet, Dad. Sniff up your son’s noxious butt bombs… FGH”
MMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPP-RRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT
“Yeah, that’s it, Dad, suffocate… GHGH”
RRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAVVVVVVVV
“Dad, I know you want this. You want my fat ass. You want my nasty farts. Take it! Take it All!... UGH”
With me trapped beneath Jacob, and my face lodged in his ass, he goes on a farting rampage, ripping fart after fart point-blank in my face. They reek of digested meat and garlic. His every fart is loud and head-rattling. The last one is a behemoth that lasted a little over a minute.
I’m only human and can only resist so much. Before I pass out from Jacob’s ass gas, I blow in my boxers.
Jacob was right. I’ll never forget this.
When I wake up, it’s still dark and I’m alone in my bedroom. Not too much time must have passed because the stench of Jacob’s eggy farts still lingered heavily in the air.
I sit up and groan in regret. What happened here was a sexy but huge mistake. It’s obvious Jacob is after something, I’m just not sure if he's working alongside his mother.
When I step out of my room, I hear what I believe is an argument going on in the kitchen.
Their voices aren’t raised, but they sound intense.
I peer into the kitchen and see Jacob and Denise arguing.
Jacob’s still shirtless. Denise is wearing a pink, brand-name tracksuit.
“You need to leave, now,” Denise hisses, “You are not going to ruin this for me.”
“Brian is a good man and deserves far better than you,” Jacob retorts, his bulging arms crossed and a stern expression clouding his face.
“What's going on in here?” I announce my presence as I step into the kitchen.
Denise flashes me a fake, syrupy-sweet smile. “Hi, baby, I was just telling my son that he needs to find somewhere else to live. He’s an adult, after all.”
Jacob looks down at the floor in defeat.
That look kills me, so I put my foot down. “No, Denise, he can stay with us as long as he likes. When he’s in a good place and is ready to be on his own, he can leave. We owe him that.”
Denise opens her mouth, but I shut her down, “End of discussion.” Normally, I just roll over for whatever Denise wants, but not this time.
Denise recoils as if I slapped her. Jacob snaps his head towards me, looking at me with appreciation, and something else I can’t pin down; perhaps longing.
Denise's lips pursed. She spins around and starts marching towards the front door.
My brow furrows, “Where are you going?” I call after her.
“I’m going to stay with my friend for a while. At least until you regain your common sense.” She answers.
“Oh, and what’s the name of this friend?” Jacob calls her out.
Denise steps falter and she’s quiet for several seconds, “M-Melony.” so pitiful, an obvious lie.
Jacob scoffs, “Yeah, right, tell Mike I said hi.”
Denise whips her head around, looking at Jacob like she wants to bury him. Her eyes then meet mine. I see fear in them.
Denise leaves, not saying another word. It's just Jacob and me again.
Jacob gives me a warm smile. “Thanks for fighting and letting me stay, Dad.”
I can’t meet Jacob’s eyes. “Please stop with the Dad and son stuff, Jacob. We both know it’s wrong, especially after what happened last night.”
I look up and find Jacob wickedly grinning at me. “Oh, Dad, you’re fooling no one. This father/son play is hot because it’s taboo.”
I hate that I can’t deny that.
“It doesn’t matter. What happened last night will never happen again. And you will stop all of this farting on me.” I command sternly.
Jacob's smirking like he’s holding all the cards. In a way, I guess he is. “Another hot thing about all this is the power dynamic,” He starts walking towards me, “Even though you're the father, we both know that I, the son, am the one in charge.”
Jacob stops right in front of me. I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. My previous confidence is completely shot.
“I think you want me to remind you of your place, Dad.” Jacob places both of his hands on my shoulders and presses down, forcing me to my knees.
Jacob then spins around. The thin layer of his black basketball shorts and several inches of empty air are the only things separating my face from his blubbery orbs.
Jacob reaches back with one hand, gripping the top of my head. With the other, he pulls down the back of his shorts, mooning me with his hair-dusted, meaty globes.
Jacob then uses the same free hand to spread open his cheeks, exposing his asshole.
“In you go, Dad,” Jacob says before shoving my face up his sweaty canyon of an ass crack, entombing my face between his fleshy moons.
BBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHPPPPPPPP
“Smell that, Dad? That's why I’m in charge.” RRRBBBPPP “Resisting is useless. All it’ll get you is more of this.” FFFMMMTTT “Then again, maybe that’s your goal.” DDDVVVBBB “There’s no need for that, Dad, if that’s the case.” MMMOOOFFF “Your stink-son’s always happy to supply your fart-huffing fix.”
RRRRRRHHHHHHVVVVVVVMMMMMMPPPPPP
With my face buried in his ass, he vents fart after fart up my nose. His hellish emissions can be categorized as a bio-weapon. It’s pathetic, but I desperately breathe in his every fart, lost in a lustful daze.
The next thing I know, Jacob is pulling me up, and we’re now facing each other. I’m caught off guard when he uses his forearm to wipe my mouth. And then he’s kissing me. And it isn’t a chaste kiss, it’s a passionate one with a whole lot of tongue. I enthusiastically reciprocate, parting my lips and letting his tongue invade my mouth.
When I realize what we’re doing, I end the kiss, but I don’t step away from his bigger body.
“Jacob, stop, your mom-”
Jacob stops me with a tender kiss. His big mitts fall to my hips, and he pulls me in. I grunt as our hard-ons press against each other. He rests his forehead against mine.
“I know what you think about me, Brian, and you’re wrong. I am absolutely nothing like my mother. She’s a manipulative gold digger who only looks out for herself.” Jacob says softly.
He cups my face in his hands. “Brian, you deserve so much better. The moment I met you, I knew I had to save you from that human trash. I knew we were meant for each other. Please choose me.”
I’m so tired of feeling miserable with Denise. I want to be happy. Jacob makes me happy.
“Jacob, I want you. I want you so badly, but we can’t. If Denise learns about this, she’ll divorce me and take everything.” I admit, the defeat is evident in my voice.
Jacob looks more determined than ever. “Dad, stop worrying about Denise. Your gassy stink-son has it all covered.
All you need to do is trust me and keep taking my nasty butt stink so beautifully. Am I understood?” Jacob orders, tone leaving no room for argument.
Jacob’s words assure me. I want to have my happily ever after with him. And I want Denise to be someone forgotten in the past.
I let my body go lax and fall into his embrace. I bury my face in his neck. “Okay, son, I trust you. Please get rid of her. I want it to be just us.”
I can hear the happiness and pride in Jacob’s voice. “There’s my good, fart-loving, Dad.” He pets the back of my head. “I’m going to take care of you and always keep you happy. And anyone who gives you the slightest bit of trouble will have to deal with your stink-son’s toxic swamp ass.”
Jacob pulls me into another kiss. “Now let's go. We got some evidence to collect.”
Jacob takes my hand and leads us to the garage, grabbing the keys to my new Tesla on the way.
Jacob peels out of the driveway, and we soon find ourselves cruising down the dark highway. I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s one in the morning.
“So where are we going?” I question.
Jacob impishly grins as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Don't worry about that. You should be more worried if you’ll survive riding with your smelly stink-son.”
Jacob leans heavily on his left butt cheek, propping his right one into the air, aiming his ass crack in my direction.
Jacob takes a deep breath and then grunts.
PPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOBBBBBBB
Jacob pushes out a 6-second fart. The stench of rancid meat and onions permeates throughout the whole interior of the car.
Jacob sighs in relief and starts fanning the fart vapors beneath his ass my way.
“Oh yeah, this isn’t an all-electric car anymore. Take my nasty gas, Dad.”
“Bad news for your nose, Dad. Your stink-son’s asshole is just getting started.”
BBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD
Jacob blasts another wave of his ass gas towards me. I hear a click and realize he just powerlocked the windows.
“Clean air no longer exists in here, Dad. This is the only air you’ll get. Choke on it… NGH”
FFFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT
MMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPP
RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMDDDDDDDD
We keep driving for 2 hours straight. All the while, Jacob keeps ripping one beastly fart after another. The muggy air of the car is vile and stifling, and I love it.
We finally pull into an almost empty truck stop. I see just one truck parked here. Jacob parks next to it and hops out. I step out, joining him. I have no clue why we’re here.
Jacob steps up to the driver's door of the truck and rips it open. I’m startled to find a middle-aged man with his cock out, taking a pic of himself on his phone.
The man quickly stuffs himself back in his underwear. I don’t know if he’s red from embarrassment or anger.
“Who the hell-”
The man starts, but Jacob doesn’t let him finish. Jacob climbs up, fists the man by the collar of his shirt, and tosses him out. The guy lands on his back, on the gravel, with a grunt.
Jacob jumps back down. Jacob stands above the trucker, arms crossed, moonlight bouncing off his shirtless, sculpted upper body, looking like a primordial god of masculinity.
The trucker’s eyes keep bouncing between Jacob’s stern expression and his bulging biceps. My eyes were locked on the back of Jacob’s shorts. How the material of his shorts clung desperately to his basketball-sized mounds; how the seam was lost deep between his two massive cheeks.
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Are you Mike Whelmer?”
“Yeah,” The trucker mutters hesitantly, “What’s this about? Do I owe you money or something?”
“He’s my father, “Jacob nods his head towards me, “You’ve been fucking his wife.”
Jacob walks forward, over the trucker, “Anyone who screws with my Dad has to deal with me.” He stops when his feet are planted on either side of his shoulders. “Well, to be more precise,” He turns around facing the trucker’s feet, “They have to deal with all this ass.”
“If I were you, I’d take a deep breath right about now.”
The trucker wasn’t ready, and neither was I.
Jacob pulls his legs out from beneath him. His titanic bum comes crashing down on the trucker’s face, like a meteor. I swear it feels like the ground beneath me rumbled from the impact.
The trucker and I simultaneously groan. The trucker groans in pain, muffled beneath Jacob’s butt. I groan from the arousing vision of the trucker’s entire head completely vanishing beneath Jacob’s doughy cakes.
Jacob wasn’t bothered by the trucker’s erratic struggling as he remained seated on his face with a smug grin.
Jacob rocks his butt from side to side and up and down, all over the trucker’s face.
Once Jacob was good and comfortable, he scrunched up his face in concentration.
VVVVVVVVVBBBBBBBBBBBDDDDDDDDTTTTTTTTT
RRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHMMMMMM
PPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFF
Jacob drops a series of booming farts point-blank in the trucker’s face. They sounded brutal. I’m not sure if I should be jealous or pity Jacob’s victim.
“Oh yeah, you smell that? That's the smell of consequences.”
FFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBB
MMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPP-DDDDDDDDVVVVVVVVVV
“Damn, that was bad, even for me. But wait, there’s more, a lot more.”
BBBBBBBBHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT
DDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPPP
PPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUBBBBBBBBBB
“This is what you deserve. No one crosses my Dad.”
Jacob lifts his ass, revealing the trucker’s red, sweaty face, who sounds like he’s trying to cough up a lung.
Jacob peers down at the trucker from in between his legs, keeping his ass a foot above the suffering man’s face.
“You knew you were fucking a married woman. If you want this to stop, you will send me screenshots of your text with Denise. Better yet, just unlock your phone and hand it over.
The trucker was too busy coughing and gagging to reply. Jacob didn’t like that.
Jacob lowered his ass until his crack was kissing the tip of the trucker’s nose.
PPPPPPPP-FFFFFFFFFF-BBBBBBBBB
Jacob rips a chain of farts on the guy’s nose. They must be bad because the guy’s crying. Jacob talked over him. “I won’t repeat myself!”
With fumbling hands, the trucker unlocks his phone and hands it up to Jacob.
For the next few minutes, Jacob sends screenshots of texts to his phone. I can hear his phone dinging in his pocket every couple of seconds.
I moved behind Jacob to see the texts, and they were damning.
“How did you know about Mike?” I ask.
“Had some old buds keep eyes on Denise. They’ve seen her and Mike together over the last two years.” Jacob reveals as he continues his task.
This wasn’t spontaneous. This was premeditated. Jacob’s been planning this for some time.
Jacob nods to himself. “Alright, I got what I needed.” He carelessly tosses the phone to the ground.
“We’re done here. Let’s finish you off.” Jacob says mostly to himself.
Jacob quickly pulls down the back of his shorts. His pillowy globes wobble above the trucker’s face.
“No, please-” Is all the trucker can get out before Jacob sits carelessly on his face. His head is instantly swallowed up between Jacob’s doughy cakes.
“I’ve brewed up a big and nasty fart just for you, buddy. In the future, remember this moment when you think about fucking another man’s wife. NGH… Take my stink… UGH”
A monstrous, 45-second fart comes roaring out of Jacob’s ass. The trucker’s thrashing becomes weaker and weaker by the second. When Jacob’s huge fart comes to a sputtering end, the trucker’s body is mostly still. I’d almost think he was dead if it weren’t for his twitching fingers.
Jacob sighs in relief, but doesn’t get off the trucker’s face yet. Instead, for the next couple of seconds, Jacob grinds his ass all over the guy’s face, rubbing his butt musk into his pores.
Jacob finally rises off his face, accompanied by a wet squelch. The trucker’s unconscious face is drenched with Jacob’s butt sweat.
Jacob stands up, not caring that his fat ass is still hanging out.
Jacob pulls out his phone with a victorious grin and shakes it at me. “What did I tell you, Dad? With this, Denise is as good as gone, and she won't be entitled to anything.”
“I never doubted you for a second. I knew my brilliant and nasty stink-son would always save me.”
My words cause Jacob’s eyes to alight with lust. He looks from left to right, ensuring we’re still alone. The unconscious man at their feet doesn’t matter.
Jacob tightly grabs two handfuls of my ass and pulls me in until our fronts are flush together. Jacob bends his head down, and I shudder when his lips graze my ear. “I can’t wait until you divorce that bitch, Dad. I want your tight, studly body all to myself.” He softly growls.
I shudder again as he rolls his hips, making his hardening member known. “And Dad, you’ve never experienced anything until your stink-son impales you on his thick meat. You’ll be limping for a week.”
“But until then.” Jacob takes a step back, grabs a handful of hair on the top of my head, and turns away, mooning me. “I guess I’ll just stick with forcing my butt stink on you.”
Jacob pulls my head down, slamming it against his bare ass. My nose slips in between his cheeks. I feel his glutes flex and then relax.
RRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMVVVVVVVVVPPPPPPPPPPPP
Things start to move fast when we leave the truck stop. I quickly filed for separation. The texts destroyed her in court.
Six months later, we are divorced, and she gets nothing.
The last of her stuff is in a box. Jacob takes the box from me. He lifts the lid, brings it behind himself, and sticks his ass inside. He makes a show of contorting his face exaggeratedly.
PPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFF-tststststssss
He rips a long, juicy fart into her box of things. He slips the lid back on and teases. “She’s in for a real treat when she opens this.”
I laugh, that was funny but hot.
I take the box and set it on the porch. At the same time, Mike’s truck pulls up. He’s alone. He walks up to the porch, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His eyes keep nervously going to Jacob, who’s standing next to me.
“She sent me to pick up the last of her stuff,” he says so softly I barely hear him.
Jacob says nothing, but out of the corner of my eye, I see the cheeky smirk on his face. Mike’s not leaving Scott-free.
I nod. The trucker looks relieved. I almost feel sorry for him.
Jacob waits for the trucker to bend down to pick up the box. That’s when he grabs the back of the trucker’s head and wheels around. He pulls the man’s panic-stricken face against his jeans-clad bulbous backside.
“Not agai-” He’s silenced as Jacob’s meaty globes mold around his face, smothering the trucker and muffling his cries.
“Since you’re at it, could you bring Denise this? It’s from her son with love.”
Jacob narrows his eyes, clenches his teeth, and starts grunting and straining.
Jacob launches a 55-second butt bomb point-blank in the trucker’s face. Jacob must have shown restraint because the trucker isn’t knocked out this time.
The trucker stumbles back towards his truck, with the box, on wobbly legs. Coughing and retching along the way.
When the trucker drives off, I playfully elbow Jacob’s side.
“You're such a bully, son.” I tease. Over the past several months, I’ve leaned into the father/son play, embracing and loving it.
He shoots me a roguish, lopsided grin. “He got off easy. Wait until you smell what my guts are brewing up for you tonight, Dad. Your nose hairs' hours are numbered.”
Two Years Later
Once Denise was out of our lives, Jacob and I became an official couple. In public, we present ourselves as a happy couple. In private, we live for Jacob dominating me with his farts and our father/son dynamic.
And as of today, we’ve confessed our love for each other.
Unlike Denise, Jacob has a job. He’s a digital artist for an advertising company. He works remotely from home. He is usually walking around in a pair of tight briefs, which does nothing to filter the smells coming out of his fat, musky ass.
Whether I’m home or not, he is constantly farting. Every inch of our house always reeks of his sweaty, swampy ass. Jacob is unapologetic about it; he knows I love it.
The feeling of returning home after a long day of work has significantly changed. No longer does it fill me with misery and loneliness. Now it’s happiness and anticipation. All thanks to a gassy man, built like a football player, and sporting the ass the size of a beachball. And who’s always ready and able to fart in my face.
Every night I return home, Jacob never wastes any opportunity to subject me to his flatulent antics. Jacob is both clever and playful with how he farts on me.
Like now, I’m sitting on the couch, watching TV. Jacob steps in front of me, blocking the TV. He’s facing away from me, his shorts are pulled down to his thighs, mooning me with his bare, fleshy orbs.
“This shit is boring. I’ve got something better for you to watch.” Jacob reaches back with both hands. He grabs the top of my head with one hand and spreads his cheeks open with the other. He unceremoniously shoves my face into his ass, entombing me between his meaty moons. I feel my lips pressing against his grimy asslips. This isn’t the first time I’ve received a raunchy kiss like this from Jacob, and probably won't be the last. And I’m here for it. This is my happily ever after.
“It’s getting rave reviews. From what I hear… UGH… It’s very immersive… NGH”
With me being 25 and bi, I quickly noticed my next-door neighbors after moving into my new apartment. First, there is the curvy, beautiful woman with nice tits. Then there’s the six-foot-four guy who looks like he bench presses city buses. The most noticeable thing about him is his fat bubble butt. It’s like he’s always carrying around two basketballs in the back of his pants wherever he goes. They bounce and jiggle as he walks.
The guy’s name is Randy, and the woman’s name is Sarah. Both of them are hot.
It's obvious to me now that they are a couple, but an hour ago, Sarah easily convinced me that they were only siblings.
Sarah and I are now naked in her bed, and feeling good after doing the deed. She’s resting her head on my chest, and I have an arm wrapped around her.
We’re enjoying the quiet moment when suddenly, the bedroom door is kicked open. Randy is standing in the doorway, huffing in rage like a bull ready to charge. He’s wearing a dirty tank top, jeans, and brown steel-toe boots.
If looks could kill, Sarah and I would be six feet under right now.
I open my mouth, hoping to de-escalate the situation, but Sarah acts first.
She jumps out of the bed, screaming bloody murder, leaving me alone on the bed in only my boxers. She’s shaking and crying.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Randy! I just realized he’s been gaslighting me. He manipulated me into sleeping with him. I’m the victim!”
I’m shocked into silence. That’s the dumbest defense for cheating that I’ve ever heard.
I guess Randy must be dumb as hell because he’s staring daggers at me.
Sarah runs out of the room, with fake tears streaming down her face, leaving me alone with a pissed off monster.
“You done fucked with the wrong woman, bitch” he growls. His gravely voice has me going pale.
I can’t speak; I never thought I’d be in a situation like this. I guess he’s taking my silence as an admission of guilt.
He pulls off his sweaty tank and tosses it to the side. He kicks off his boots before he starts walking towards me, still on the bed. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he undoes his jeans, letting them drop and pool at his feet. He’s wearing a tight pair of grey boxer briefs that are drenched with sweat.
He climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body. The rage in his eyes has me paralyzed and unable to speak.
“You’re about to smell why the boys call me Rancid Randy.”
Next thing I know, he turns around and his fat ass is hovering right over my face. The sweaty fabric of his underwear is clinging to his round, meaty globes.
The last thing I see before everything goes dark is the large sweat patch running down the crack of his ass.
WHAM
He drops his bulbous, sweaty rump, taking a seat on my face. My face is being smothered under an over-encumbering amount of ass fat.
The musky smell coming from his swamp ass is tear-inducing.
I groan from the scent.
I both feel and hear him darkly snickering above me. “Oh, you wanna cry? Rancid Randy will give you something to cry about.”
At first, I don’t know what he’s going on about, until:
RRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT
The guy rips a thunderous, 5-second fart, point-blank in my face. It’s strong enough to rattle my skull.
Rancid Randy is a fitting name–his fart stinks of rancid meat and rotten eggs. The smell is atrocious. It has me coughing and gagging.
“Ah, damn, that felt good. I’m glad I had Mexican for lunch with extra beans. Doubt you agree… GGH”
MMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUFFFFFFFFF
He vents out another rancid-smelling fart in my face, and that’s when I try to struggle.
I try to buck him off me, but he shimmies his hips, bearing his ass down harder onto my face. I bring up my hands trying to push him off, but it does little more than massage his doughy globes.
“Haha, that’s it, keep on uselessly struggling. All it will earn you is more of my Rancid Rockets… HGH”
MMMMMBBBBBAAAAAAPPPPPPP
My voice is muffled beneath his meaty posterior, but I get out, “You got it all wrong, man. Your girlfriend came up to me and said she was single and you were her brother.” It’s hard to speak when every time I part my lips, his ass fat tries to pour into my open mouth.
My explanation only angers him.
“What? You're calling my girl a liar? Suck on this, fart-bitch!”
BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRVVVVVVVVTTTTTTTTT
FFFFFFFLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP
DDDDDDOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAABBBBBBB
Randy pushes out three consecutive farts that wreck me. He aggressively grinds his butt on my face, as if he’s trying to ingrain his ass musk into my pores.
Out of desperation, I punch him in the side of his stomach, but all that does is help him dislodge a big fart.
BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTT
He rips a 12-second fart right in my face that reeks of raw sewage. It has me coughing and my eyes stinging.
He sighs and laughs, “Ah, haha, don’t blame me for that one. That was all you, unlike this… FGH”
VVVVVVVVBBBBBBBLLLLLLPPPPPPP
Another wave of his nauseating fumes washes over my face. It puts me in a coughing fit, weakening me. Randy uses the opportunity to trap my arms by my sides, between his knees, as he straddles my chest.
I now feel completely helpless.
“Ah, you’ll be lucky if I let you leave here alive and don’t kill you with my farts after what you did to my girl!”
He grounds his titanic rear end harder down on me, working my face in between his cheeks. Through the material of his sweaty briefs, I feel my nose pressing against his hole.
It’s silent, but I feel his pucker open and his warm, intestinal wind heating my nose.
The smell is horrendous–like rancid meat swimming in raw sewage.
“Haha, ah yeah, breathe it in bitch, breathe in Rancid Randy. Every time you even think of my girl, you’re gonna remember my rank ass and my butt bombs.”
I ironically find my second wind and flail harder beneath him. This seems to amuse Randy.
“Oh, still struggling, I see. Seems like Rancid Randy’s gonna have to break you like a wild bronco. Thankfully, I have the ass and farts for the job.”
I think it’s over when he rises off my face. But soon enough, his big ass comes crashing back down on my face like a meteor, making me groan. And the impact is accompanied by…
RRRRRRRRPPPPPPPMMMMMMMDDDDDDD
He isn’t done.
He lifts his ass off my face.
“Yeah, take it bitch.”
He slams his ass back down and…
VVVVVVVLLLLLLLLOOOOOPPPPPPPPP
My tormentor repeats this torturous cycle.
Up.
“This ain’t my first rodeo. Rancid Randy has broken down plenty of assholes, and you won’t be the last.”
Wham
RRRRRRHHHHHHHBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT
Up.
“Choke on my nasty farts.”
Wham
PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWFFFFFFF
Up.
“Get crushed by my big, heavy booty.”
Wham
MMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPP
Up.
“Anyone who messes with my girl has to deal with my swamp ass. Now Suffer!”
The noxious smell has my eyes and nose running. Randy’s repeated butt-drops have my face feeling like it’s been Mike Tyson’s personal punching bag.
I aggressively thrash my head from side to side, trying to get my face out of his ass. I turn my head to the left, finally escaping, getting a few breaths of cool, semi-fresh air.
I take the opportunity to shout, “Get off of me, you psycho!”
I didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow became even more agitated.
“Psycho! Psycho! You fucked with my girl’s head, and you’re calling me a psycho.”
He lifts his ass off my face again. And then to my horror, he peels down the back of his briefs. His fleshy, bare moons, glistening with sweat, pour out of their confines and wobble ominously above my face.
“You’ve done it now. Now I’m really ticked off!”
Randy reaches down with both hands, spreading his cheeks. I’ve never seen anything more revolting. Hovering a foot over my face is his open crack. Inside is all sweaty and hairy, and dead center is his wrinkled pucker.
I start shaking my head. “No. No. You can’t do this to me. Help!”
He immediately shuts me up by dropping down, entombing my face in his sweaty and musky canyon of a crack.
The douche bag laughs, making his meaty orbs jiggle around my clamped face. “Don’t waste your breath; no one can hear you. No one can ever hear you in between Rancid Randy’s fat moons.”
PPPPPPWWWWWFFFFFFFFFDDDDDDDDD
MMMMMMLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP
RRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDFFFFFFF
He unleashes a barrage of trumpeting farts, point-blank in my face, putting me into another coughing fit. His ass and booming farts drown out my cries for help.
I try to struggle, but I can barely move my head anymore. There’s more than just fat in his brawny slabs. It feels like my head is caught in the jaws of life.
He rocks his ass on my face, getting comfortable. I give a muffled cry when it ends with my lips pressed against his asshole.
“You wanna kiss someone? Then kiss this big, nasty fella; he loves the attention.”
RRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMMMBBBBBBBB
He pushes out a 6-second rumbly fart that has my lips vibrating. Some of his toxic fumes seep into my mouth, making me feel sick to my stomach.
He presses down harder and roughly gyrates his ass on my face, forcing my lips open with his hole.
“Hehe, oh yeah fart-bitch, things are about to get a lot worse for you. Eat my farts!... NGH”
BBBBBBBBVVVVVVVVVVVWWWWWWWDDDDDD
FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLMMMMMMMM
My cheeks and lungs inflate with his hellish ass gas. I’m choking and gagging on his noxious, intestinal vapors.
“Fuck man, how are those extra beans I had for lunch treating ya? Do you like it? Recycled through my booty?... GGH”
MMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBRRRRRRRR
PPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDD
“Ah, good luck fucker, your face is going to be reeking of Rancid Randy’s swamp ass for weeks. You’re probably gonna have to wash your face thoroughly and daily for a month to get rid of my butt stank. You’re welcome… HGGH”
Who farts so much? It feels like it's been days, but it's only been a couple of minutes. This beast keeps rocketing one monstrous fart after another down my gullet. The final one is the longest, lasting well over 4 minutes alone.
My lungs feel like they will be forever tainted with his vile butt stink.
He rises off my face with a wet squelch. My face is drenched with his ass sweat, my tears, and my snot.
Next thing I know, I’m being pulled off the bed and onto my feet. He shoves my strewn-around clothes into my hands. He then grabs me by the back of the neck and practically drags me towards the front door.
He opens the door and tosses me out, on my knees. He towers over me, pointing an accusing finger at my face. “Let this be a warning: if you so much as eye my girl a little too long for my liking, you and my swampy ass are gonna spend a lot more personal time together.”
Randy wheels around. The back of his briefs is still pulled down, so he’s basically mooning me. His bare, sweaty cheeks are only a few feet away from my face.
I notice his hands curling at his sides, and I hear him taking a deep breath.
BBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPP
Randy blasts me in the face with a 10-second-long, airy fart. It stinks of digested meat and garlic. And it has enough force to cause his pillowy mounds to ripple and blow my hair back.
I’m left coughing on my knees as he slams the door in my face. Thankfully, the hallway is empty, so no one sees me at my lowest point.
I stand and hobble to my door. I pull my key out of my jeans and retreat inside my apartment.
Things don’t end here, though. For the next few days, the couple fucks with me.
Whenever I pass Sarah alone in the hall, she shoots me a superior smirk, silently declaring she’s won. When I pass Randy, he glares at me, and without stopping, he swivels his hips and farts on me.
What the two don’t know is that I’m an investigative journalist. It was child's play to find Sarah’s multiple cheating partners over social media and take screenshots of them kissing.
I created a burner account and sent the pics to them and their mutual friends. Sarah’s now seen as a slut, and Randy is seen as a simp.
I sit back and enjoy the fireworks.
Every day, I hear them constantly screaming at each other through the walls, and I love it.
However, I’ve been dealing with a slight dilemma. In my head, I keep replaying Randy’s assault on me; the humiliation, his bare ass, and his farts. Every time I do, I feel a stirring in my crotch.
Maybe if I ignore it, it won’t mean anything.
Things come to a head two weeks later. I’m coming home from work and find the couple arguing outside their apartment. Randy is standing in the doorway of their apartment, and Sarah’s standing in the hallway. A box of stuff is separating the two.
“Are you seriously kicking me out for a few hook-ups? You’re so insecure.” Sarah cries.
“We’re done, leave.” Randy barks in return, but then a cruel smirk forms on his lips.
“But before you go, take this with ya.”
Randy turns around and squats, bringing his ass down just above the opening of the box filled with most likely Sarah’s things.
RRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAFFFFFFFFF
Randy drops a 6-second wet fart into the box.
Sarah looks disgusted, “You can keep this cheap junk you bought for me. My friends were right: you were never good enough for me.” She turns on her heels and storms off.
“I’ll send my brother to collect my clothes and the TV, since I bought it, I can’t stomach seeing you anymore.” She snarks over her shoulder.
“Yeah, well, he'd better take only what’s yours or he’ll be Rancid Randy’s next fart-bitch.” He calls out to her. To punctuate his threat, Randy hikes his right leg and farts.
FFFFFFFHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP
Sarah rolls her eyes.
As Sarah walks past me, she gives me a suspicious side glance. Did they know it was me?
My question is answered when Randy notices me.
“You!” Randy stomps up to me, his anger nearly palpable. “I don’t know how, but I know you’re responsible for all this. You’re a dead man!”
I whip out my phone and start recording. “Mind repeating that, friend. I’d also love to record you physically attacking me.”
My words have Randy coming to an immediate halt right in front of me. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are alight with fury. He knows he can’t act.
He turns around, but instead of walking away, he leans forward, jutting out his twin moons that are barely being contained by his jeans.
RRRRRRRWWWWWWWUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP
He envelopes me in an eggy fart cloud.
He mutters, “Fart-bitch,” before walking back into his apartment.
Joke's on him, I’ll be jerking off to this recording for a while.
I guess when it comes to men, I’m into big, brawny, sweaty guys who fart a lot and are assholes.
At this point, I thought the chapter of my life involving Sarah and Randy was over. But I was wrong, at least with Randy.
A few weeks later, on a Saturday morning, I’m awoken by heavy knocking on my door. It’s like six in the morning.
With me being half-asleep, I made the mistake of unlocking the door before looking through the peephole.
As soon as I start opening the door, it is kicked open, making me stumble back. Randy walks in like he owns the place. He shuts the door behind him, trapping me with him in my apartment.
The guy’s wearing a black tank top and black basketball shorts, and he’s practically dripping with sweat. I'm pretty sure he just had a grueling workout and came straight here. What the fuck?
He flashes me a devilish, toothy grin as he lets his shorts drop, revealing that he’s wearing a sweaty, dingy, used-to-be white jockstrap.
Before my still-waking-up mind can process anything, Randy charges at me and tackles me to the carpeted ground of my sparse living room.
We wrestle on the floor, well, more like he manhandles me with ease. I’m five-foot-ten and weigh only 150 pounds.
I wind up trapped between his powerful quads in a reverse headscissors. His mountainous, sweaty, and bare cheeks are only inches away from my face. The musk emitting from his crack is eye-burning.
“Surprise, fart-bitch, I work out early every morning, and it’s my neighborly duty to share my hard work and dedication with you.”
Randy reaches back and grips the back of my head. I try to resist, but he easily overpowers me, shoving my face against his sweaty, fuzzy crack.
PPPPPPPLLLLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTT
He unleashes a raunchy eruption, point-blank in my face. Along with his venting fumes, my face is sprayed with beads of ass sweat.
He starts rolling his hips, wiping his grimy crack from side to side, and up and down, all over my face as he farts non-stop.
“You thought you’d make Rancid Randy look like a fool and get away scot free.” FART “Naw, buddy,” FART “You gotta pay the price,” FART “When I’m done with you, the scent of my big musky ass will be a permanent addition to your face.”
FFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTT
He rips a torrent of butt rockets in my face that stinks of rancid meat and broccoli, making me cough–though it’s muffled with me being smothered by his bubbly orbs.
I shouldn’t, but I’m becoming aroused.
Still gripping the back of my head, he pulls my face away from his ass. I look up over his fleshy hillsides, which he calls butt cheeks, meeting his steely grey eyes.
“Tongue my hole. Now!” He growls through clenched teeth.
Things go dark again as I’m roughly shoved in between his boulder-sized cheeks.
My brain short-circuits as I feel my lips press against the fleshy, puckered, balloon-knot. This guy–who has anger issues and who I thought was straight–wants me, a man, to eat him out?
My mental conundrum is ended by Randy flexing his meaty thighs around my head and putting on the pressure.
“That wasn’t a request. Now get to tonguing,” he practically snarls.
Rational thinking takes a backseat to self-preservation. I extend my tongue and start licking his sweaty, wrinkly hole. I circle it with the tip of my tongue, tasting him, and I love it. It tastes salty, a bit spicy, and undeniably masculine.
His quads, wrapped around my head, relax a bit–his grip on the back of my head remains firm, holding my face in place–and I feel his big body shudder, and he lets out a quiet, pleasure-filled moan.
I flatten my tongue, licking broad strips against the pucker, wanting him to relax so it will open for me.
Randy’s completely here for it. “Fuck yeah, fart-bitch, taste me, inside and out. GGH… Emphasis on inside… NGH”
I feel his asshole lips open and push outward.
MMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRVVVVVVPPPPPPP
He pushes out a 5-second fart that warms the surface of my tongue and rockets down my throat.
I break, I’m no longer doing this out of fear, I’m doing this out of sexual desire.
I start tonguing his hole with more enthusiasm. I dig the tip of my tongue in the knotted button of tissue and start wriggling it open slowly and pleasurably.
Randy gives a deep, wild moan. “That’s it, you nasty fart-bitch, eat my shit-chute. I’m a real man. I deserve this.”
He releases me from his headscissors. While keeping my face buried in his ass, he rolls us over with me lying on my back and him sitting on my face. It’s like what he did a few weeks ago, but gone is the hostility and rage. Both of us are swept up in primal lust.
I start probing my tongue deeper and deeper into him. I can tell he’s enjoying this by the sounds he is making.
He tastes so good; so masculine and addictive.
“Fucking right, fart-bitch, eat me! Eat all that I give you… HGH”
PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRWWWWWWDDDDDDDDD
“Mmm, bet that had a kick to it. That was the spicy burrito I had before I hit the gym. Oh, hold on, FGH… here comes the chocolate protein shake I chugged it down with… RGH”
FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU-MMMMMMMMTTTTTTTT
His nauseating butt wind inflates my cheeks and lungs like party balloons.
While still tonguing him, I grunt when I feel Randy flick the tent popping from the crotch of my shorts.
“Well, well, well, looks like you really are a fart-bitch. Keep tonguing my fart-spewing hole and I’ll keep gassing you, that’s a promise. Heh, Rancid Randy’s fart tank is never empty.”
I start pistoning my tongue into him deeper and with more fervor.
Randy’s practically roaring and snarling like a wild animal.
He’s rocking his hips, undulating his fat, blubbery rump seated on my face.
“Fuck, you definitely want my farts, you desperate fart-bitch.” PPPBBBTTT “Fine! Take it! Take it all!” RRRWWWDDD “I'm gonna fucking drown you with my farts!”
FFFFFFFFFWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVV
While enduring Randy’s endless, flatulent rampage, I feel him rocking back and forth. I also hear a faint and repetitive, wet slapping sound. It’s not difficult for me to figure out what he’s doing.
The fact that this sweaty, massive man is sitting and farting on my face while getting himself off has me throbbing in my shorts.
“Hang on, fart-bitch, here comes my post-workout, morning butt-thunder; right on time. It always smells god-awful and is a real doozy. See you on the other side. Ohh… Ohhh… UGH”
3 minutes of toxic ass thunder explodes out of his hole, blasting my tongue and into my open mouth. His fumes taste bitter and stink of rancid eggs and onions.
As his fart continues, my tongue sensually slithers and dances inside Randy’s warm and velvety internal canal.
“Mhmmmmm!” My shout is muffled thanks to my face being submerged between his ample mounds.
Without touching myself, I shoot in my sleeping shorts.
Randy follows suit. I hear him growling as he thrusts into his grip while remaining seated on my face.
My shirt rode up to my chest during this intense ordeal. I feel several volleys of his essence hitting and warming my stomach.
At last, Randy rises. He pauses when his ass is hovering a few inches above my face and lets off a few purposeful poots in my face.
Pbbt, Rrvp, Fwdd
I’m caught between coughing and gagging. My entire apartment is filled with Randy’s raunchy ass musk. I doubt the smell will ever go away, and I’m not mad.
After cooling down, I sit up and watch Randy hesitantly, worried he might break into a straight crisis rage.
But Randy seems calm as he walks over to his discarded shorts and steps into them.
With his back towards me, he says, “The way I see things, you’re the reason I’ve been suffering from a serious case of blueballs for the last several weeks. Sarah may have been a lying bitch, but she knew how to suck me off. You caused this mess, and you’re gonna fix it.”
Randy comes to a complete stop when the waistband of his shorts is just below his protruding ass slabs. He looks back at me, over his shoulder. I’m surprised to see desire and interest in his expression.
He gives a nod like he’s figured it all out. “Yeah, so since you're the one responsible for getting me into this mess, you’re gonna be my solution for the foreseeable future. Around this time, every day, excluding Sundays, I’ll stop by after I work out at the gym, and you’ll eat my fat, sweaty ass and farts.”
His brow furrows in irritation. “And you better let me in when I come. Don’t think I won’t break down your door.”
This has gone from like 0 to 100.
“This is my apartment, and I’m my own person. Don’t I get a say in the matter?” I point out.
He shoots me a threatening, impish smirk. “Deal with it, this is how things are gonna go down. If you got a problem, take it up with the big guy.” Randy says before tossing a thumb over his shoulder. He then arches his back, making his meaty orbs stick out even further.
MMMMMMMFFFFFFFFVVVVVVVPPPPPPPP
Randy rips a 5-second, quack-sounding fart, refreshing the room with his rancid-egg butt scent.
I must’ve given something away because Randy looks so cocky now.
“If you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or some sort of friends-with-benefits situation going on, you'd better bring it to a hard end now. You’ve learned all too well that Rancid Randy doesn’t share what’s his.” Want and possessiveness are gleaming in his eyes, which has my breath catching.
While I’m still sitting on the floor, Randy takes several steps back, bringing his bare, fat ass right in my face. I’m immediately met with an eggy-
PPPPBBBBRRRRTTTT
He then starts slowly and sensually swaying his hips from side to side, making his basketball-sized globes wobble and jiggle from left to right. He blasts my face with a string of poots as he continues to shake his butt in my face.
Ppft, Rhhv, Mtbb
“You don’t want to feel guilty about my swampy ass claiming another victim because of you? Do you, fart-bitch?” He murmurs, looking down at me over his shoulder, that possessive gleam still alight in his eyes.
It sounds like he’s teasing, but we both know he’d do it. I was his swampy ass’ victim a few weeks ago.
My mouth feels dry. I shake my head for no.
Randy’s lips stretch into a sharkish, victorious grin, like he’s the cat who swallowed the canary, while continuing to roll his hips and poot in my face.
Fffp, Bbrp, Vvud
How do I even label this? Fart-master and slave? Fart-dom and sub? Or maybe it’s simply Rancid Randy and his fart-bitch? Whatever the title, there’s no hiding Randy’s possessive words and expressions. Could this be the starting foundation of something more meaningful in the future? Or maybe this is just about convenience until he finds a new girl. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that Randy is an unstable and dangerous wildcard, so anything is possible.
Randy stops rocking his hips, bringing his bubbly rump to a complete stop, right in my face.
He bends forward, extending all that backside even closer to my face. He reaches back with both hands and spreads his cheeks, exposing the insides of his sweaty and hairy cheeks and his musky hole.
“Kiss it goodbye for now. It’s looking forward to feeding you breakfast tomorrow morning.”
I lean forward, burying my face in his toxic canyon. When my lips meet his ass lips, I feel them twitch before opening.
*ring* Luka looked to the door to greet the customer. In walked a 6’2” hunk of a man in a pink set with a white baseball cap. Smitten by his looks Luka just stared as the man walked pass the counter, shooting him a playful smirk. The man walked to the back of the store, a subtly sweet smell following behind him. Luka couldn’t help himself following behind the man the smell getting stronger and more intoxicating,making sure to hide behind a shelf to not be seen peaking around the corner. The man opens the fridge bending down to grabbing a ginger ale from the bottom row. “Fuck!” He says grabbing his stomach, a low puff escaping from him. His sickling sweet smell spreading through the freezer aisle. Luka couldn’t help himself and take a large whiff, alerting the man to his presence. He turns around, Luka shocked and stands up frozen. The man walks over pushing Luka against another shelf, “I came in to get a ginger ale for my stomach but you seem to be the perfect cure.” With that he turns around his imposing frame plus his now sagging pants giving Luka the perfect view. FFRPPPPTTTBBTTTTT. “Ahhh How does that smell?” BbRrrRTtTPPpptt “ohh that hurt coming out!” bPPRBBBBBTRTWWRTRTT “That one was a but wet.” With each release Luka took as big of a whiff as he could, but that wasn’t enough he smooshed his face into the man’s clothed ass. “Surprised anyone could love this brew. *wafting his hand in front of his face* This shit is rank!!” Luka kept sniffing it smelled too good. Another customer walked in, the smell so bad he immediately ran out! “Alright time to go.” The man says blasting one final BBBRRPRPTBTBBTTTTT that had the shelf shaking and a few items falling into the ground. The heat in the store rising by a few degrees. “What kind of stomach problems does this dude have?” Luka thought to himself sweating and slumping onto the floor. The man turns around pulling up his pants, “My name is Grandy by the way. I’ll see you again real soon.” He winks at Luka and exits the store, leaving 2 dollars and his number on the counter.
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You were sat on the bench in the scorching heat, sun almost blinding as you were watching the first third of the new tryouts compete on the field, desperate to earn a spot on this year's famously competitive Shatterstone College football team. You thought it was just like any other tryouts, except more competitive. Unfortunately, you were wrong. "That's time!!" Roared the respected coach, Gerard Gatlin, known to have the most impressive team lineups in college history. He was 35 but had the build of a athletic 20 year old with a nice beard and mature demeanor. The first group of tryouts came off the pitch out of breath and sweaty. It was all normal until you saw Coach Gatlin pull two players over to him as the second group rushed onto the field.
"Okay so you two were tied for scoring but I can only take one of you. Are either of you willing to kiss my ass for the spot?" As soon as the question was prompted, the left player said 'yes sir,' not even giving time to think it was a joke. "Looks like we have the winner. Better luck next time!" Coach laughs as he signals for the other player to leave. "Sorry to disappoint, but you won't be kissing my ass, just sniffing it. More specifically, sniffing my farts for a bit as I assess the second group." The player, clearly built and looking like a stereotypical alpha male, knelt down and pushed his face into the tight blue shorts of the coach without hesitation as he had dreamed of getting on the team for years.
"Good man! You clearly know that being the best takes sacrifice and commitment. Since you are essentially part of the team now, I should tell you my nickname among the lads, or more specifically, the nickname of my ass that carries out the punishments, The Gatlin Gun" Coach laughs as he lets out a fart onto the players face. You see a slight flinch but nothing too reactive. The smell blows over to you, and you gag immediately from the rotten scent. Then, another fart rips, and again, the player has a slight flinching response. You couldn't believe that the other player was taking these head on. Before the smell could reach you, another blast erupts, then another, and another. It seemed like Coach Gatlin was a full auto fart blaster. You gagged as the smell of each and every fart was carried by the wind. "Sorry for the smell! But if you plan on joining the team, you will experience it a lot!" The older man simply laughed as the quick lighting fast rips of toxic methane continued. You had no idea how the player was still alive. Sure, more powerful farts had been ripped by other men, but the Gatlin Gun name was accurate as the incredible speed of farts is what made Coach Gatlins ass deadly. Finally, the defeated football player fell backward unconscious as he had just been blasted by at least 100 farts within a few minutes.
Then came the offer of a lifetime. "You've just seen and smelt what I can do to a face, so how about I offer you something worthwhile. You get over here and take the rest of my Gatlin Guns rounds, and you're on the team, no questions asked!" The smirk of the man showed his love for dominance as the smell of a few silent farts made your stomach turn even from range, making your mind race at the thought of what to do.
Your knees shook as you entered your office building, you swore you could still smell Derek’s foot sweat on your face, that it had absorbed into your damned skin! You shook your head and reminded yourself that you needed this, desperately. You weren’t exactly flush with cash, barely able to make your rent and you were hoping to propose to your girlfriend soon (though last night hadn’t really gone too well after all the bullying at the office, but hey, you were preoccupied).
With one last firm headshake you finished Derek’s coffee, dropped your bag at your desk and hurried to knock on his office door two minutes to 9. “Come in, FAIRY!” Derek bellowed.
You scrambled to enter and shut the office door before the whole office heard and hurried to place his coffee in front of him as he read a memo on his desk. “Sir, I told you once before, I -“
“Under the desk faggot, you’re late for fart inhalation”. He slid back with his leather office chair almost magnanimously, in a sharply tailored blue suit and barely turned his intimidating blue stare my way, making way for me to crawl into my new cramped space.
I felt my knees sink down to the ground and my palms follow, pushing me forward like a friggin’ zombie, just following orders. The chair sliding back forward to trap me and cause a strain in my hunched back as well as almost complete loss of light brought me back to the present. PpRrrRrrrrrAaaaP! The smell of rotten eggs and old cheese filled my lungs as I tried to shut my eyes and remind myself this was temporary.
“Ahhhhh coffee always makes me gassy faggot, you’ll learn that today and lots of other stuff. Park your nose right where my asshole meets the seam in my pants, I have a 1hr Webex this morning with the board - where I’m taking credit for your hard work last week actually, hahaha. You just sit there, sniff deep so I know how much you love me and your job here and give my hole a little fairy kiss each time he blasts you in the face got it?”
You feel a tear work its way down your cheek but you lean into the damp hot spot on his slick blue pants, sniff deeply so he can hear it, to which you feel his abs shake with a soft chuckle and kiss him like you would your girlfriend. BRrrrrrTtttttaattttaa!
Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Forced Face Farting, Face Farting, Fart Torture, Multiple uses of the F slur, Asphyxiation by Farts, Passing out from Farts, Eproctophilia, Face humping, Bully cums, Pisses self
Last Monday I opened my locker to find a note waiting for me. It falls to the ground and I quickly squat down to grab the note. When I pick up the note, I see that there’s a lipstick mark and just a phone number. I’m a bit confused, but I text the number anyway.
Hey? Got ur note… Who dis?
Hi cutie xx… Jalissa
Hell yeah, Jalissa is awesome. We went to high school together and I knew we were going to the same college but haven’t run into her yet. I briefly found it weird that she approached me this way but I don’t think too much of it.
We end up talking for like a week before deciding to meet up. She wanted to meet up at the gymnasium at 9:00 PM when it’s close. She has a key to the gym since she works there and I’m game.
However, when I get there, the gymnasium is quiet and the lights are dimmed.
“Hello?” I call out as I walk towards the center of the gym. “Jalissa?” When I reach about half court, all the lights flip on.
I hear footsteps and turn around expecting Jalissa but end up seeing someone else. “Tristen? Tristen Moretti? What are you doing here?” I look around, maybe he had the same idea as Jalissa.
“Heard you were talking shit.” This moves my attention back to Tristen and I watch as he saunters closer to me.
“What?” He’s at arms length now. “I don’t know-” He gives me a firm push and I trip slightly backwards but stay on my feet.
“Called the whole wrestling team a bunch of fags.”
“I mean, the whole sport is a bit faggy.” I comment back. “The whole tight singlet and holding another man and rolling around on the mat. It’s all a bit…faggy.”
He pushes me harder, this time I lose my balance. “The only fag I see around here is you.”
“Fuck off!” I go to get back up, but Tristen quickly pins me down against the floor. He does some maneuvering and I’m unable to get a good grip on him. The echoes of me and him struggling in the gymnasium is the only sound I can hear until he has my face pinned against his ass.
“I’ll fucking show you faggot.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT
A rumbling six second fart hits my face. It’s rotten, smelling of garbage and eggs. I start to struggle again, but he pins my arms down to my sides and grinds his sweatpant clad ass against my face. “Eat my fucking gas, faggot!” I try to move my face away from his ass but I have nowhere to go.
PFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFF
More vile gas hits my face and I do my best to hold my breath. Even with doing that, it’s not enough, fumes are still invading my nose.
“Bro, get off!” I grab his hips and try to buck him off, but he uses the opportunity to switch his position. He gets me into a scissor lock and uses his heels to push my head into his ass.
PFFFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFF
“Fuck!” I yell out as my nose is pressed firmly against his ass. I can’t help the dry cough that escapes my lips. The rotten smell has burned its way into my sinuses and I’m starting to worry.
PBRBRBRBRBBRRRRRR
“Fuck, that was fucking wet.” He comments above me. “How’s that smell faggot?” He releases the pressure of his heels against my head, only to slam my head against his ass over and over again. “Smell it faggot! Smell my fucking ass.”
PFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFFBBRFFFFFTTT PFFFFF
He slams my face hitting his ass with each fart bomb hitting my face. My eyes are watering and I don’t know if I’m breathing correctly. My nose hurts from the repeated slamming and the toxic fumes that I’m being exposed to.
“Not happening dude.” PFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFFFFFFTTT “This is what happens when you fuck with the wrestling team.”
PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT
I feel so physically weak at this point, I lose the ability to even try and fight back against Tristen. “Please.” I manage between hacking.
“You want more? Cool, I can indulge faggot.” He loosens his grip on me slightly only to pull his sweatpants down under his ass. He’s wearing a jockstrap that frames his ass.
“No, no, god no!” I begin to scream as he pulls me back against his ass.
“This is why you don’t talk shit!” He roughly bounces my face in between his ass cheeks as he shakes his. PFFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFFFTTTT His naked ass is much worse than before. His gas burns my nostrils as he keeps ripping noxious fumes.
“Please...I-I...Can’t breathe.” He doesn’t budge any, instead he pushes harder against my face.
“Good, I wantchu to suffocate in my fat ass.”
PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
If he keeps this up, I’m definitely going to start suffocating. I already feel dizzy from all these butt bombs obliterating my nose.
“Gonna make you regret ever talking shit.” He’s already done that. “Eat this faggot!”
A loud trumpeting 15 second fart hits my face without any filter. Pure garbage gets spewed into my lungs and I start convulsing against him. “Yeah let the gas in. Breathe me faggot!”
PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFTTTT
He doesn’t let me recover and continues to blast me with his gas. How is anyone even this gassy? “I'm sorry! Please, I’ll do anything!” I try groveling with the little bit of air I have left.
“Sorry faggot, I can’t hear you. You’ll have to beg louder.”
“Ple-” PBRBRBRBRBRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFF He manages to fart directly into my mouth as I start talking. It’s absolutely rotten and I begin hacking up my lungs again and I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Oh god.” I don’t learn from my past mistake and he manages to fart in my mouth again, this time pushing his ass and pulling my head as hard as possible.
I feel my cheeks inflating as he keeps spewing a 15 second silent but deadly fart into my mouth. I can’t move and my whole body is shaking against him.
“Fuuuuuuck, that feels so good.” Tristen moans above me as he’s grinding his ass against my face. “You still breathing faggot?” Barely, I think to myself as everything starts to spin. I give one last attempt to fight back and push him off me, and to my surprise I get away.
I’m scrambling to get away when I feel him grab me around my waist and pull me back to the ground. “Where you going faggot? I’m not done with you?” I’m seeing triple as he twists me around and forces me back on the ground.
He pulls his dick out of his jockstrap and starts slapping my face with his cock. I try twisting away but he grabs my head and holds me into place putting his dick under my nose. He starts humping my face and I can feel his dick harden on me.
“I’ll make sure you’ll never forget about this.” He keeps humping me and all I can smell is his natural musk and the lingering scent of his ass on my face. “This is what fucking happens when you mess with me faggot.”
He forces my mouth open and he starts to spurt cum into my mouth. I go to spit the cum out, but then he sits back down on my face again. “Open up faggot.”
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT
His cum gets blown right back in my mouth and I’m forced to swallow his cum and nasty fart. It’s the most vile thing I’ve ever tasted and I can’t stop from gagging.
Barrage after barrage of fart is being forced down my throat and it’s at this moment I fear for my life. I can’t even speak anymore to try and beg for my life and I feel myself spasming. I think I may have pissed myself, I can’t even tell anymore.
All I hear is him laughing, grunting, and his trumpeting farts. I’m going to die like this.
I lose consciousness and my head falls against the gym floor.
Minutes or maybe hours later, I awake alone. Lights completely turned off in the gym.
“Help.” I try to yell, but my voice is hoarse. I struggle to get to my feet and all I can smell and taste is Tristen’s ass. I end up throwing up on the gym floor.
At least I’m not dead, I think to myself as I make my way to what I assume are the doors. I open a door to find myself in a small bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and see the state I’m in.
Jeans drenched in piss and my face is splotchy and red. Everything smells bad and I go to the sink to try and scrub my face. As I’m about to go another round of scrubbing, I feel my phone buzz.
Jalissa: Hope you had fun tonight faggot xx
I stare at my phone for a bit before throwing it full force against the wall.
~~~Fin
Author’s Note: Another old story that I found and decided to revamp. I pretty much rewrote the whole thing at this point and changed it from 2nd person to 1st person. I also think I created a new kink for myself? Forcing cum in someone’s mouth and then immediately farting in their mouth? Hello? Has that been done before? Anyways, hope you enjoyed :3
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pppprrtttttttt oh kinda small, BBRRRPPPTTTT kinda heavy, PRRRBBBTTTTTTTT whew that’s a good one.
Every sound, every smell I’ve experienced them all. Everyday I get up shower and go to work. What is my job you ask? I’m a fart sniffer. I know the job that most of us would die to have, and I love every second of it.
Pro max gym is the first of its kind, anyone working out is free to rent a fart sniffer to save themselves the embarrassment of ripping on in the gym. It also helps the other gym goers not having to deal with the smell. It’s an amazing job i almost lost because one dude was too much for me.
A regular day like any other I look at my list and there is only one name he rented me for the whole day, Jack. He walked in standing 6ft, a big guy with an even bigger butt. I introduced myself and we got to work. He started with squats but he gave me a warning, “my friends call me Jack the Ripper, are you sure you can do this?” I reassured him that I was a professional. Jack shrugged his shoulders and began, each squat u got a face full of his ass. He just began but the sweat was immense, I had to hold my breath like I was swimming each time.
Then the first fart slipped it was small but pungent. “Oh is that all I can handle that.”I thought to myself, small bursts like this are no problem. Then the next came it was bigger than the last PPRRRTTTT. Oh okay that was definitely bigger but nothing I couldn’t handle. Then even bigger. PPPPPPRRRRTTTTTTT. *coughing* What the hell was that? I don’t even remember the last time a fart made me cough and I’ve hugged thousands.
Jack paused his workout for a second to look back at me. “Wow you really can take them I don’t smell a thing. Guess I can stop holding back.” He turns back around his ass looking over me. “Holding back!!!!” Before I could react his ass slams on my face. He moved on from squats to barbell lifts so he doesn’t have to get up. “This would probably be hot asf if I wasn’t horrified about how much worse his gas could become.” I didn’t have to wait as the next fart was the worst I’ve ever smelt.
BBBBRRRRPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT. The smell of Burnt rubber and raw sewage invaded my senses. I convulced under him that fart too much for me. Jack didn’t care he asked if I could handle it and I said yes. BBBBBRRPPPPTPTTTTTTTTT That sound filled the gym - for two hours this monster let rip giant horrid farts rattling the chair I was laying on. The fumes made their way throughout the gym, no one could take his gas. After his set he got up, my unconscious body laying in the bench. He took me outside with him the gym vacant.
When I came too I saw my manager in front of me asking if I’m okay. He told me that he thought about firing me since he thought I was loosing my touch since everyone could hear and smell jacks gas but he realized that his gas was inhuman and there was nothing no one could do.
“Sorry little dude, they call me Jack the ripper for a reason.
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This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+. Contains male fart fetish, piss, and scat content. The scat is limited to the indicated section so that anyone can skip it if they want.
I ran home crying. It was almost the end of my senior year of high school and I just wanted the school year to be over already. I couldn't wait to go to college and get away from the jerks I grew up with. Especially Blake. He was a typical jock - Mr. Popular, captain of the lacrosse team, and all that. Teachers loved him and thought he could do no wrong. If they only knew.
Blake has been bullying me incessantly for years now and no one knew about it except him and his teammates. It's been really rough, but I guess I should count myself slightly lucky because it definitely could be worse. Since Blake didn't want to get caught, he mainly stuck to quick and undetectable bullying methods: things like wedgies, wet willies, titty twisters, and noogies. You would think that would make it more manageable - I never had to walk around with wet hair from a swirly or anything like that for example - but the sheer frequency of it all drove me insane. Not only that, but Blake's verbal taunts slowly ate away at my self esteem.
Despite the emotional strain, I did a good job of masking my emotions. I had to. One time I made the mistake of telling on Blake. He denied it and his teammates backed him up. Since he had such a good record, the teacher took his side and chided me for trying to spread rumors. After we left our meeting with the teacher, Blake dragged me to the locker room and gave me the worst wedgie I had ever gotten. It was a squeaky clean, and he kept it up for so long that he actually drew blood. You heard me correctly, my underwear sliced my taint and although the cut was small it did bleed a bit. Blake told me if I ever tried to tell on him again, he would repeat this process until he literally sliced me in half. I know that's probably not even possible, but the threat stuck. Blake was a lot stronger than me and could easily do some damage if he wanted to, so I kept my mouth shut from that day forward.
That is, until today. I thought I mostly had a handle on Blake's bullying, but today my worst nightmare came true. You see, I have chronic hyperosmia which means my nose is very sensitive to smells. I'm on medication to try to manage it, but it still really sucks. Fortunately (and somewhat surprisingly), none of Blake's bullying ever involved smells. I think he mainly preferred to do things that would leave lasting (but undetectable) marks. Smells eventually fade, but a good wedgie could make it so I wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for days. I felt so lucky that I was going to make it through high school without my biggest bully finding out about my condition.
Unfortunately, my luck just ran out. We were in the locker room before lacrosse practice and I was getting yet another wedgie. I was waiting for it to be over so that I could just go home, when one of Blake's teammates thought it would be funny to make me smell the inside of Blake's lacrosse cleats. I immediately started panicking and upon seeing my reaction, Blake gleefully agreed. I struggled as much as I could but it was no use. They put a piece of athletic tape over my mouth to keep me quiet and make sure I could only breathe through my nose. Then, my face was shoved into the opening of one of Blake's cleats. I held my breath for as long as I could, but the need to breathe was inevitable. I reluctantly took a sniff and immediately started convulsing. This was by far the worst thing I had ever smelled. I struggled so hard that Blake's teammates lost their grip on me. I ripped the tape off my mouth and immediately puked all over the locker room floor. Everyone stared at me horrified. I took advantage of the moment of confusion to run out of there as fast as I could. My secret was out and the school year wasn't over yet. I felt like the world was coming to an end. And so we're back to me running home crying…
I wanted to go right to bed, cry myself to sleep, and try to forget what happened. But my older brother Joe stopped me and asked what was wrong. Unfortunately, we lost our parents when we were young, so Joe was all I had. Since he was legally an adult at the time, he became my guardian. He worked part-time and, while we didn't have a lot, we had enough to get by. We never fully got along, he used to mess with me a lot before our parents died. But after the accident he mellowed out a bit and we at least tolerated each other. Anyway, I tried to tell him it was nothing, but he forced the truth out of me (he threatened to fart in my face if I didn't tell him and after what happened earlier that's the last thing I needed). He didn't really react at all when I told him about how Blake had been bullying me all these years or explained what happened today. After a brief moment, he told me that he'd take care of it and then let me continue on to my bedroom. I didn't really know what he meant by that, but after all I'd been through I was too exhausted to care. I ended up just collapsing in bed and falling asleep.
…
The next day at school, I was on edge and prepared for the worst. But it never came. In fact, it seemed like Blake and his friends were intentionally avoiding me. The day after that was the same. No encounters with Blake at all. Maybe my brother really did take care of things. Finally, Friday arrived and again I made it through the day without issue. After making it half a week without any bullying, I was finally starting to breathe easier. I went home excited to just chill in my room and play videogames. After about an hour, my brother called me down to the living room saying he needed my help with something. I got there to see him standing next to a weird chair that kind of looked like a toilet seat.
Me: “What's that?”
Joe: “It's called a rim seat.”
Me: “What's a rim seat?”
Joe laughed.
Joe: “You sit in it and someone lays down below you so they can lick your butt.”
Me: “Ewwww that's disgusting.”
Joe: “I need your help testing it.”
Me: “What? I'm not going to lick your butt!”
Joe: “Don't be stupid. Of course you're not going to actually use it. I just need you to help make sure the fit is right. You're a similar size to my girlfriend, so if you can fit in it then she’ll have no problem fitting.”
Me: “I don't know, this whole thing seems really weird.”
Joe: “Oh come on, it'll only take a few minutes and then you can go to your room and get back to jacking off or whatever.”
Me: “Hey, I wasn't jacking off!”
Joe: “I was kidding…Now are you gonna help me out or not?”
I reluctantly agreed. Joe had me lie down under the seat and then started adjusting the various straps. It was super weird. It was like I was looking up out of a toilet. It felt like Joe was adjusting the straps pretty tightly, but when I complained he assured me he was almost done and would release me soon. After what seemed like forever, he stood up.
Joe: “So, are you comfy?”
Me: “Not really. The straps are pretty tight.”
Joe: “Just want to make sure I'm testing the setup as realistically as possible. One more thing before I let you go.”
Joe left and then came back with a weird looking rubber ball that had straps on it.
Joe: “I wanna see how this fits in your mouth. Don't worry, I'll clean it before using it with my girlfriend.”
Me: “Uhh, that's okay. I don't really want that thing in my mouth.”
Joe: “Come on, this is the last thing and then you're done. Unless you wanna stay there all night.”
I definitely didn't want that so I relented. He put the weird thing in my mouth and tightened the straps. When he was done, I couldn't even breathe through my mouth. I tried to say something but all that came out were muffled groans. All of the sudden, the doorbell rang.
Joe: “Perfect timing!”
He left to get the door. I started freaking out. I didn't want anyone to see me like this. My brother came back a few minutes later but he wasn't alone. My eyes almost popped out when I saw he had Blake with him. Blake must have just worked out or something because he was drenched with sweat. They both grinned at me.
Blake: “Surprised to see me?”
I let out a series of muffled grunts. Surprised was an understatement.
Joe: “I guess I owe you a little explanation. After your little breakdown the other night, I reached out to Blake here. We got to talking and he told me more about the things he's been doing to you. The more he told me, the more I realized the whole thing is pretty fucking hilarious. It was nice to hear that someone's been putting my wimp of a little brother in his place. When we got to your little barfing incident, I explained to Blake all about your weird smell disorder. He was bummed that he hadn't heard about it sooner so that he could have taken advantage of it more. And that got me thinking, why don't we take advantage of it? Apparently, Blake has IBS and is lactose intolerant. That's a recipe for some really gnarly farts. So I thought it would be fun to have Blake sit on your face for the ENTIRE weekend and rip ass. Fortunately, Blake was nice enough to agree to give up his weekend just to entertain you. That's why you're strapped into a rim seat and can only breathe through your nose.”
Blake: “And as an extra gift for you, I haven't showered in three days and just got back from a nice long run.”
Joe: “Dude, that's nasty! I was wondering why you reek so much.”
They both laughed. I looked back at them horrified. I tried as hard as could to get a word out and reason with them, but it was no use.
Joe: “There's also gonna be some other changes around here. Starting now, you're officially done with your medications. No one wants to see you puke all over the place so you'll still be taking your anti-barf drug. I actually switched out your bottle for one with a higher dose after your incident with Blake the other day because clearly the dose you were on wasn't strong enough given how you wrecked the locker room floor. Aside from that though, nothing else. No more smell dampeners and no more anti-migraine pills. Blake is going to provide you with a lot new scents to sample, and you're going to show him some respect by fully experiencing those smells unrestricted.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There's no way they could go through with this, it would be full on torture. I struggled against my bonds as hard as I could and tried to scream.
Joe: “Looks like someone's excited to get started! Ready to take a seat Blake?”
Blake: “Hell yeah, let's do this!”
Blake walked over to me and turned around. I continued to struggle but they both ignored me. Blake pulled down the back of his shorts and I got my first glimpse of his bare ass (he was wearing a jockstrap rather than boxers). It was pretty hairy and glistening with sweat.
Blake: “Welcome to your new life, bitch!”
And with that, Blake slammed his bare ass down onto my face. I was caught off guard by the force of it and ended up taking a huge breath in. I immediately felt like my entire body was on fire. It smelled like the entire concentrated essence of the locker room at school was being forced up my nose. I’d give anything to smell Blake's cleat again instead of this. I started crying and convulsing. Blake and my brother found this hilarious.
Blake: “Dude he fucking hates it!”
Joe: “Yeah he does! This is too perfect. Haven't even gotten to the worst of it yet.”
Blake: “Feels so weird to have him huffing my asshole.”
If only he knew. It was definitely 1000x worse on my end.
Joe: “Remember our agreement. You have to sit there without getting up until Monday morning. He's gotta spend 60 full hours in your ass.”
Blake: “Don't worry man. I'm not going anywhere. I got the TV and my phone to keep me occupied…and the comfiest seat in the house.”
Joe: “Sweet. I'm gonna go chill in my room then, but before I go, I gotta hear you fart.”
Blake: “Thought you'd never ask. Bombs away!”
PRBRBTPRBBRRTBBPBRPBRBTRBTPRT
It was one of the longest farts I ever heard. I lost count after 10 seconds. When I eventually had to breathe in, I immediately wished someone would just cut off my nose and put me out of my misery. It literally smelled like someone had shoved my head in the toilet of the world's dirtiest porta potty. I was sobbing at this point.
Joe: “That was awesome! I can't even begin to imagine how bad that smelled. Glad I'm not in his position. I’ll leave you to it now. If you need anything, just shoot me a text. Make sure to rip ass as much as possible. Wanna make sure he never forgets this experience.”
Blake: “With pleasure!”
…
Hours went by. I could no longer think straight. I still could not fathom how either of them could think this was okay. I heard my brother enter the room.
Joe: “I bought dinner!”
Blake: “Aww, Taco Bell! Sweet!”
I groaned. I know what Taco Bell means.
Blake: “That's right. You thought my farts were bad before, wait until after I get this into my system.”
Joe: “That's not all. I wanted to make sure our little friend here has the best night possible, so I got you an extra large milkshake for dessert.”
Blake: “Dude you're evil! That thing is gonna tear up my insides.”
Joe: “Let's hope so! I'll let you enjoy dinner. Have fun you two!”
…
I was shocked by how quickly Blake ate his dinner and downed his milkshake. It felt almost inuman. Whatever show he was watching must have been hilarious, because I could feel his butt shake on my face anytime he laughed. All of the sudden, I heard his stomach make a very concerning sound.
Blake: “Joe you gotta come down here.”
I heard my brother come down the stairs.
Joe: “What's up?”
Blake: “It's all hitting, this is gonna me massive.”
Joe: “Do it, I can't wait!”
PPTPRTPRPTRPRTPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
Massive was an understatement. This lactose intolerant, IBS-fueled mega fart really pushed me to my limits. It felt like my entire skull was rattling. And the smell was indescribable. I felt like my nose was gonna melt off my face. Both of my torturers were beside themselves with laughter.
Joe: “That was the best thing I ever heard. And he had no choice but to take it all, what a loser!”
Once they composed themselves, they realized it was getting kind of late.
Blake: “So what are the sleeping arrangements? Think I might get cramps if I have to sit in this chair all night.”
Was I about to get a temporary reprieve? I definitely could use a break.
Joe: “Way ahead of you. Get up for a sec.”
He dragged something into to the room. It looked like a cot. I was confused where he was going with this until I saw that there was a hole cut through the cot, right at the part where a person's ass would be when they laid in it. He positioned the cot so the hole was over the rim seat.
Joe: “There, now he's all set to deal with your ass for the entire night. Probably not the most comfy thing, but it should work.”
Blake: “Yeah I guess. Not thrilled about this, but at least it'll suck more for him than it does for me.”
Joe: “That's the spirit!”
Blake got ready for bed. Then he got into the cot and positioned his butt through the hole. It actually worked better than I think we both thought it would. His butt sank through and made pretty firm contact with my face.
Blake: “Ya know, this isn't actually so bad. It's definitely not great, but knowing your face is in my ass makes it more bearable. Today's really been the best. Looking forward to more tomorrow. Just a heads up, I fart A LOT in my sleep, so you're in for a fun night…especially after that milkshake. And just for you, even though I'm not really cold, I'm using a blanket to ensure all the gas stays down there with you. Nighty night bitch.”
With one last horrible fart, Blake settled in. He wasn't kidding about his night gas either. It was rough. Any time I thought I was going to fall asleep and have a moment’s rest, a massive fart would blast me awake. This was by far the worst night of my life.
…
The cot had been moved away and Blake was sitting on my face again eating breakfast. Every so often, he would rip a fart just to “keep me in my place” as he would say. My anti-migraine medicine was now fully out of my system. Without it, intense smells gave me terrible headaches. As you can imagine given my current situation, my head was absolutely killing me. My brother must have been reading my mind. He entered the room and I felt him put something in my ears.
Blake: “Why are you putting AirPods in his ears?”
Joe: “He's off his anti-migraine medicine so I imagine his head must be killing him given what he's been dealing with from your ass. Figured it would be fun to blast some music in his ears, just to make sure he really suffers.”
Blake: “Wow you really are evil dude! You should totally do it though. I'll blast some gas to make it even worse.”
I wasn't even surprised at this point. It was clear both of these guys were complete sadists. As the music blared and the farts ripped, I felt like my head was actually going to explode. I prayed that I would pass out to get away from the pain, but unfortunately my prayers went unanswered.
…
[This section contains scat]
Saturday night. The halfway point of the weekend. My face had been planted in Blake's ass pretty much nonstop. My brother was sitting on the couch nearby and they were chatting. Blake's stomach made another weird noise.
Blake: “Whoa, think I'm gonna have to get up for a bit.”
Joe: “Hey dude, remember our deal…”
Blake: “Sorry, I gotta take a massive shit. I can sit on him again when I'm done.”
Joe: “Oh is that all? Just use him.”
Blake: “Are you serious?”
Joe: “Sure I am! Look at his position, he's basically a toilet.”
Blake: “You’re really not joking? That's crazy dude! This is gonna be awesome!”
Joe: “Glad to see you're on board. Let's get him ready so you can unload.”
Blake got off my face. My brother undid the straps and took my gag out of my mouth.
Me: “Please. Don't do this to me!”
Joe: “I don't think you're in any position to stop us.”
Me: “Please! Haven't I suffered enough?”
Joe: “The answer to that question will always be no.”
He pulled out another gag that looked like a metal ring.
Me: “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
Joe: “Because you're a massive wimp and this is what wimps deserve.”
Blake: “And it's also a lot of fun.”
Joe: “Yeah that too. When Blake and I were planning for this, we decided you needed to be put in your place. Neither of us really like you, so we both agreed not to pull any punches. I could have gotten a cool brother who’s fun to hang out with. Instead I got you. In my mind, with each thing we subject you to, we're one step closer to making up for that injustice.”
Blake: “Face it bitch, you're right where you belong.”
Before I had a chance to say anything else, my brother secured the ring gag in place. After a little more taunting, Blake said he was about to burst so my brother told him to sit down and do his business. I expected him to place his asshole over my mouth, but instead he pulled his dick out and put in my mouth.
Blake: “Always gotta piss before I shit. You better swallow every last drop if you know what's good for you.”
His stream started strong. It was hard to keep up with it. The taste was acrid but I was expecting a lot worse. I didn't really even have time to process it though because I was so focused on swallowing - I didn't even want to know what would happen if I spilled a drop. He must have drank a lot since this went on for quite a while. Finally, the stream died down and he was done. He shook his dick over my mouth to make sure he got every last drop in.
Blake: “Okay, on to the main event.”
Joe: “This is gonna be so gross! I almost wanna leave the room but I have to see this happen to him.”
Blake slid forward and positioned his hole over my mouth. He started off by releasing a bunch of farts right onto my tongue. I gagged violently.
Blake: “If you think my farts taste bad, you're in for a rough surprise.”
After a few more farts, his asshole began to expand and a massive turd started making its way out. Blake kept pushing and soon it entered my mouth. It brushed against my tongue and the taste was worse than I could have ever imagined. I wasn't sure if I I'd actually be able to swallow it. As usual, Blake was one step ahead of me. Rather than breaking it off and letting it fall into my mouth, he just kept pushing out more of it. Soon it reached the back of my throat and yet it kept coming. My throat opened up and it started to slide down. Just when I thought I was going to lose the ability to breathe, it finally broke off. I was laying there with a massive shit log with one end wedged halfway down my throat and the other end sticking out of my mouth. My mind went completely numb and I wished I was dead. Blake got up for a sec to admire his work.
Blake: “Holy fuck that's so nasty! Almost makes me wanna puke.”
Joe: “Yeah it really is disgusting. I gotta get a picture of this though.”
He pulled out his phone and snapped a pic.
Blake: “That's a lot, he may have trouble swallowing it all.”
Joe: “One way to find out. You know what to do, swallow down Blake's gift.”
I tried to swallow but it was too much. I think Joe realized I needed to chew if I had any hope of swallowing this monster log so, after letting me know how much I'd regret it if I tried to spit it out, he unstrapped the ring gag and slowly slid out of my mouth over the turd. Since I had no other option, I bit the turd in half. The taste made me want to vomit, but unfortunately the anti-nausea medication was working all to well (Joe had slipped me another dose at breakfast time - it would have been great if he gave me food, but I digress). Slowly but surely, I was able to force the part of the turd that was stuck in my throat down the rest of the way. That just left the part that was still in my mouth. Hating myself every step of the way, I chewed up the disgusting log and finally swallowed it down.
I thought this ordeal was finally over, but Blake said that he still had more left in him. They didn't even bother with the ring gag this time - they knew I was broken. I opened my mouth when they ordered me to and then Blake sat right down on it. I guess that monster turd was it for his solid waste, because next Blake pushed out a whole mouthful of diarrhea. I didn't think anything could taste worse than the first log, but this proved me wrong. They made me swish it around and chew out all the chunks before swallowing it. It was absolutely awful. After 3 more mouthfuls of liquid shit, Blake was finally done. They made me lick Blake's asshole clean, but after what I had just been through that was a piece of cake. Once I finished with that, my brother put the ball gag back in my mouth (he made sure to let me know how sad he felt that he didn't also have to take a dump right now) and then they set up the cot again so Blake could get some sleep.
[End of scat]
…
Sunday was more of the same. They experimented with different foods to try to get Blake's gas to smell as bad as possible. It felt like time was crawling.
…
Finally, Monday morning came. I would finally be free from this hell. They couldn't keep me in here forever, Blake and I had to go to school. My brother walked in carrying my laptop. Why did he have that?
Joe: “Before we let you go, we have a little surprise for you. Another thing I learned from talking to Blake is that he's going to the same college as you. With that in mind, we thought of a way to make your college experience more fun.”
He turned my laptop towards me and I couldn't believe what I saw. Blake had sent me a request to be my roommate and they accepted it on my behalf. My brother motioned for Blake to sit on my face again so he did and then he immediately ripped a massive fart.
Joe: “That's it for the visuals so you may as well get comfy while we tell him about his new life. Here's how it's gonna be. From now on, you're on call to sniff Blake's farts whenever he wants. Furthermore, Blake is officially prohibited from using the toilets in school. When he has to go, he will text you and you will let him do his business in your mouth. If you fail either of those duties, we will start to involve the entire lacrosse team in the fun, and we know you don't want that. For college, as you saw, you and Blake are going to be roommates. You'll both be living in the athletic dorm, and fortunately one of my friends is an RA there. They will make sure to tailor your roommate agreement to ensure that you have to take as many of Blake's farts as possible along with whatever else comes out of his body. If you don't, you'll get kicked out of college. If that happens, we'll make you continue to live with Blake anyway and you can use your newfound free time to do extra chores and maybe even provide your services to the other athletes in the dorm. As you can see, not getting kicked out is in your best interest. In fact, your only way out of this situation is to do really well in college, get a good job, and move somewhere far away from us. Otherwise, you'll be stuck forever.”
They both grinned at me. I felt hopeless. I was stuck in a living nightmare with no escape.
Blake: “Don't worry bitch, your brother is gonna let me bring the rim seat to college with us. It'll be just like this weekend but on repeat. Hope you're excited, because the fun is never gonna end!”
He let out one last fart and, with that, they finally let me out and told me to get ready for school. I was starving since I hadn't eaten anything all weekend (well any food that is), but I didn't feel like eating right now. I forced myself to eat an apple just to have some food in my system. I went through the motions of getting ready for the day but my mind was elsewhere. I began to tear up as the full weight of dread for what lies ahead started to sink in…
