currently drooling over the thought of being trapped in a sauna with a group of friends who all ate something that disagreed with their stomachs.. long horny ramble below idk read at your own risk
The benches are two tiers, a higher and a lower, with the lower row sitters settled between the legs of the row above them. You're seated on a lower row, somebody behind you shuffling around with their damp thighs brushing the sides of your head. Everyone just got back from a big dinner, a nice restaurant that serves anything you could want. Everyone loaded up on pizza, steaks, roasted vegetables, the works. And definitely a few too many glasses of wine.
The door slams shut as the last person enters, and everyone settles into comfortable silence. Someone splashes a few more buckets of water onto the burning hot coals, thick clouds of steam billowing up and filling the air. Everyone is packed into the uncomfortably small room, wiggling around on the damp wooden benches to try and get comfortable. Wet and sweaty bodies nudging up against each other, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder.
After a few minutes in the stifling heat, bellies start groaning and rumbling, and many of the people inside are nervously rubbing their stomachs and whispering about the discomfort. Your stomach is starting to ache too, and you lean back a little bit, a hand over your midsection and a grimace on your face. You can feel sharp bubbles of gas traveling down rapidly in your lower gut, and you squeeze your cheeks together as tightly as you can, praying none of them escape.
"I'm feeling kinda weird, should we leave?" Someone suggests, and the group agrees. But to your shock and horror, the door won't open. You call for attendance, but they're busy, and your paid time in there isn't up for another twenty minutes. Your stomach is making audible burbling sounds now, and you can hear the friend behind you making the same, shuffling around and whining as they massage their swollen stomach behind your head.
They are the first one to let go, the uncomfortable silence broken by a sickeningly loud fart droning out behind your head. The smell hits your nose, thick and damp in the hot wet air. They murmur out stuttering apologies, but moments later, others start to do the same. Suddenly, everyone is letting out loud, raunchy farts that sound amplified by the way they sputter out from between damp cheeks onto the wet wooden seats. Your resolve is broken and you groan, feeling a hot and concerningly wet fart begin to bubble out of your clenched hole, traveling up the front and eventually rising up to your nose in a steamy cloud.
Everyone is coughing and groaning at the stench, thick and hot in the air as it carries through the steam. You cross your legs, but to no avail, a stream of gas hissing out of you and crackling over the wood. Everyone has given up on trying to hide it, and many people are reclined back, swollen bellies sticking out as they rub them and let wet farts drone out from between spread legs.
You make the sorry mistake of turning your head to check on your friend behind you, face to face with their groin covered only by a damp swimsuit. In the same instant they let out a deep and bassy fart, the gas bubbling out into the tight material and escaping around the sides. The hot air hits your face, your nose overwhelmed with the damp eggy stench. burning your eyes and making them water. They apologize, but you assure them it's alright, turning away quickly to hide the flush that spreads across your face.
The minutes tick by slowly, filled with pained groans and gas that seems to get worse by the second. In the last few minutes, many people are desperate, whining that they're nearly about to soil themselves, and maybe a few do. You're nearly there yourself, the farts that bubble out of you growing hotter and wetter quickly as you massage your stomach and grit your teeth.
Finally, the door is opened by an attendee, who makes a face at the powerful stench that hits them. Everyone hurries out quickly, clutching handfuls of ass and stomach as they rush to the nearest bathrooms. You leave last, a sick part of you savouring the stink that lingers in the air and on your skin.
Maybe you'll visit the sauna more often...
