currently fantasizing about a guy coercing me into a ‘rimjob’ and it immediately turning into something else
i think it’s disgusting, i say no, but he’s insistent. “just try it out” he says, “i’ll stop immediately if you hate it.”
i concede, eagerness to please him overpowering my disgust. i lay down flat, eyeing him as he strips himself of his pants and hovers over me. he spreads his cheeks, and i see his asshole flex.
before i can back out, he drops himself on my face. it’s rank, snd i regret my decision to give in. his asshole is pressed against my lips.
“open up.” he demands, and i hesitantly do as he says. my lips are basically suctioned around his asshole, and i get ready to lick, when his hand grabs my head to hold me in place and he strains.
a nasty fart enters my mouth with a loud PFFFBBBBT, and i immediately gag and cough, squirming and wiggling underneath him.
i hear an “ahhh, fuck” and a sigh of relief. i feel like i’m gonna vomit immediately.
he wiggles his ass a little, burrowing my face deeper in. i tap on his thigh, squirm, cry; anything to show that i don’t want to do this anymore. he ignores me in favor of leaning back, putting his full weight on my face. “stick your tongue out.” i don’t. he smacks me, “i said stick your fucking tongue out, whore, or i’ll shit on your face.”
i feel tears stream down my face, and i do as he says, fearing that he’s not bluffing.
i tentatively lick his hole as he pushes against my tongue. i hear groans of satisfaction above me; i can tell he’s jerking off.
he rips another one, silent, this time so foul i swear it burns my tastebuds off.
he huffs out a laugh, “does it taste as good for you as it did for me?” i sob as he talks loudly about what he had to eat. he tells me how great of a girlfriend i am for helping out with his tummy troubles, how he knows he can’t eat certain foods, but it just tastes so good. and why should he restrict himself when he has such a kind, compassionate girl willing to help him out?
i lay there, huffing each one of his farts without choice, gasping for air every time he readjusts and frees my head for just a moment. there are a couple times where i beg him to stop, to let me up, but he just laughs at me and sits back down.
if i’m lucky, he’ll run out of gas soon, if not, well, hopefully he’ll move before gas turns into something more solid
