Gas-Yap Central

- That just leaves us in the surrounding area, where everyone is focused on- or fighting for -their favorite donut. And not me, where I can maybe get another glance at…

Robert's tired expression suddenly turns strained as he leans forward, starting a low sigh before another sound erupts from behind him. I flinch at the small quack that goes off near my face, and Robert jolts upright.

"Op!" He clenches, reaching back in an effort repair the dam holding back what's probably a flood. He turns back to me with his other hand in the air in defense, laughing awkwardly, "I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to do that."

He looks around to make sure no one noticed and subtly fans the air behind him. "It's alright!" I say. "I get it. You probably had a lot to eat, right? I understand."

"Are you sure? You don't wanna take it to HR or anything? Cause’ I’d get it."

I almost laugh at that. "Positive."

Robert's shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath. "Sorry," he says, just to make sure that I know it, and leans forward again, this time with his rear pointed away from me. Aw. 'Aw'? Are you ok in the head?? No.

We're getting somewhere now; I have my login, and now, onto learning this dispatch system.

Robert shows me the group of Heroes assigned to me and how to access their database to get a quick feel for who they are and what they're like.

He chuckles and shakes his head when he finishes explaining which region my Heroes are allowed. It's nice to know that he actually feels bad about.. that, but I don't want him to spend the day and then some with any guilt. As funny as that would be…

"You don't have to be embarrassed about it or anything," I say.

He hums. "Blonde or Visi would've never let me get away with that."

"I would." And I say that way too quickly! I wasn't thinking, and I don't even know who 'Visi' is. It could be.. someone to this guy. Nice going, Alex.

But thankfully, he laughs at the joke he thinks I made. "Really? That didn't want to make you strangle me?"

"I mean…" I glance at the donut table. A lot of people have gotten their picks but there's still a good line there, mostly made up of people from the back, around where we are. "It's only natural. And…"

OK, you can stop there! But he asked! But we’re about to say is VERY HR worthy. He won’t tell if you don’t. Hmmm…

"If I'm honest, your butt is nice enough for people to want that to happen, so…" Congrats, you just lost your job.

"What, like you?" he chuckles, staring at the screen and waiting for the reciprocal laugh from me. And he waits, and waits, and waits. He finally turns back to me with his brows raised, "Like you?"

I can feel my face start to warm. I chuff, only able to shrug my shoulders, waving the whole thing off to try and move on from it completely and as quickly as possible.

“Ho-ho-ho, really?” He laughs lowly, notably to not draw any attention towards either of us, I think. It doesn’t feel like judgment, not with the curious expression and small, parted-lipped smile on his face.

“Yeah– I mean.. Yeah,” I manage to say.

“Hey, that’s cool. No judgment for whatever you’re into.”

I smile blankly at the screen at his words. It’s an amazing feeling, especially since Robert is the first person I've ever revealed that to. Nice going, Alex.

“That’s good, actually,” he continues, “As long as you're not.. you know, 'doing stuff ' during your shift, there’s probably plenty of gas bags that work here that wouldn’t mind a little stress relief after work.”

“What, like you?” I joke. Only joking. Until I notice Roberts' downcast eyes and his furrowed brow. “..like you?”

So farts are hot. You know this, I know this. So hearing that a surfer guy had a huge amount of uncontrollable gas is basically a stash of diamonds at the end of a rainbow.

But it’s NOT all sunshine and rainbows, it’s actually a medical condition, and Kenneth suffers immensely. I’ve never been into character being in physical pain in order for me to get off, so as much as I want to enjoy reading about Kenneth’s horrible gas, I can’t help but feel bad for even wanting that.

It makes it worse that he’s such a cool guy! I want to believe that besides my kink, I’d want to be his friend, regardless of the fact that I’d have no more nose hairs after hang out with him for half an hour. Kudos to the author for making me feel and sparing any expenses, as the author has admitted that they relate to Kenneth in the sense of their ‘similar’ illnesses.❤️

Anyway, let’s get to the horny stuff. HOLY FUCK, i could cry knowing that I’ll probably never meet someone like Kenneth irl. It’s the most amazing think in kink fiction where someone is like, “Oh, woe is me! I have so much gas and I’m so embarrassed to fart around my crush. Ohp! I have to fart right now, oh no! Wait… They liked it? YES, YES I DID, NOW PLEASE SIT ON MY FACE. I get so so happy, and I’m not sure if Kenneth would see his explosive gas as anything other than a curse, but I wish I could at least let him know that despite nearly dying every time he’d let rip, there’s still a brick forming in someone’s pants because of it. (It’s me, btw, I’m super hard.)

Also, I think I remember he takes super huge shits? That, combined with the massive, house shaking toilet farts? Kenneth… *drops to my knees with tears in my eyes* Please marry me. WE COULD ESCAPE THIS PLACE. We’ll live on a private beach house or something! Sure, we probably wouldn’t have good plumbing but I don’t mind carrying a bucket full of elephant sized shit to go dispose of if it’d make you happy.

Kenneth is an example of why I love having a fart and scat kink. The single most embarrassing parts about being human (unfortunately by society’s design) is bathroom stuff. But I WANT to see that, I WANT to hear it. You’re consequently gross, I love gross stuff: WERE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER.

I think thats all I have to say. Again, Itchy Person, thank you so much for bringing me and the three other people who love Kenneth to us. We’re so grateful. Stay safe out there.

(Wait I have more to say: Me following Kenneth around and letting him crop dust me whenever we go. By now I’ve built up a tolerance, but just barely and it doesn’t help much. My eyes still water.

We spoon at night, but I’m usually under the covers with my face near his ass getting obliterated by his constant, hissing winds. Yes, I’m asleep, because after almost three months of this, I’ve gotten used to it, YAY!