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mysteriaum69 · 5 days ago

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Smell of a false accusation

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!”

Wham

BBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU-FFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

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”

DDDDDDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFFF-OOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP-AAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBB

“Oh damn, I feel a big one brewing. I almost feel guilty about blasting your face with this, the keyword being, almost. R.I.P. your taste buds.

FGH… This puppy comes straight from Rancid Randy’s butthole with love… UGH”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

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”

BBBBBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPDDDDDDDDDDDDD

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.

FFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPVVVVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMMMMMMDDDDDDDDDDDD

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mysteriaum69 · 11 months ago

Text

What Are Friends For?

'Oh yeh, this has done it' I thought as I finished the last slice of pizza. Extra meat and extra cheese, the greasier the better. This was on top of of the full fry up I'd had for breakfast. The cabbage stew for lunch. Topped off with a protein shake. Not that I'd been to the gym today, that wasn't the point. I'd just had one, on top of all that heavy food, to get myself nice and gassy. My stomach was bloated with gas and it was starting to bubble away inside.

I have been planning this day for a while now. Ever since I worked out my friend, Joel, had a fart fetish. At first I'd thought it was just the usual, gay guy fancying his straight best friend. I didn't mind, he was free to lust after my ass. Nothing would happen, but he was free to look. But I realised he liked it more than just to look at. I'm a gassy guy and my blasts can clear a room, but not Joel. He'd always make a comment on them. Hed sit on the floor next to me, said it was "more comfortable". No amount of farts would shift him. He'd just get closer through the night.

Now he'd never admit it to me, he was too shy. I felt bad for the guy. He didn't have much luck with pulling guys, maybe his fetish made it hard. So I'd decided to help him out. I planned a day of food that I knew would aggravate my stomach, get me all gassed up, and invited Joel over to watch a film.

He arrived on time, which was great because I could not hold these in for much longer. As he sat down in his usual spot on the floor I went to the TV and turned it on, making sure to silently release a fart and crop dust him as I walked past. He didn't say anything but I caught him staring at my ass as I passed. So on the way back to the sofa I turned and stood in front of him as I loaded Netflix, letting him get a good view.

Releasing another small silent fart, only this time in his face, I looked down. "Do you need anything?"

"No...no...I'm good. Shall we start the film?"

I sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed play. The film hadn't been going for more than 5mins when I let out an enormous fart.

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

After holding them in and only releasing the silent wisps so far, this one had erupted out. More than I'd planned.

"That was a big one!" Joel joked, laughing a little. "Gassy today? Thought I smelt one when you got up"

"Yeh, my stomach is rough. Sorry about that"

"It's fine. You know it doesn't bother me".

The smell of the fart lingered, it had a meaty scent, one of my better ones.

But I was just getting going. I let out a couple more silent ones to really fill the room. Letting Joel stew in my fumes. Never once saying anything. Happily sitting there, watching the film he'd say of course, but still he was inhaling pure methane. I knew my suspicions were right, no one else would have stayed in the room, let alone sit so close to the source.

It was time to push it. I let out a triple assault.

Prrrrbbbb

Pbbbbtttt

PPPBBTTT

Laughing as I unloaded I began wafting the air. "Oh man, they stink! Here, breathe through this", and I handed him a cushion of the other end of the couch.

Joel took it, faked using it as a mask for a second, then just gave me his innocent smile and placed it behind him. "Ha, thanks, but I'm fine, I'm used to your butt bombs".

Damn this guy loves my gas. Needed to crack him before I eventually ran out. I wanted him to openly embrace it, not just sneak sniffs from the side. I decided to give him a little treat to tide him over, until he was ready to open up.

The farts were now putrid, even for me and I'm used to my own flavour. The milk from the protein shake was really kicking in. But I was able to let out some quiet wet ones. I moved the cushion next to me down a bit so half of it was under my ass. Then for 10mins released a constant stream of silent farts on to it.

Casually I pulled it out and passed it to Joel, need another cushion? I could feel how warm it was from the farts and being flattened under my big ass.

Joel looked like he was going to decline it, then the smell must have hit him. Could have sworn his eyes glazed over, he took it and placed it behind his head but turning so his face was pressed up against the scented fabric. He wasn't even facing the film now.

I watched as huffed on the cushion, away in his own little world. The first cushion he had behind his back was pulled out and placed over his crotch to cover, I assume, evidence he was pitching a tent. I was thrilled.

"Hey, Joel, I have a gift for you"

"What is..." Joel began before being interrupted as I slid down the sofa and turned so his face was mms from my hole

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

My fart exploded in his face. I swear it blew his hair.

Joel looked shocked. "Damn, man, what you do that for?"

"It was a gift, I knew you'd like it"

"I don't like your farts"

"Sure you do! You're always sitting next to me, despite how gassy I am. Tonight I have been actively butt bombing this room and you have been vaccuming them all up. Plus you have been glued to a literal fart cushion for 10mins. Mate I paused the film and you never noticed!"

It was quite cute to see him get all flustered. He went a little red too.

"I don't...I just don't mind..."

"Don't worry about it" I said. "It doesn't bother me. I mean I've had no issue when you walked behind me on the stairs so you can stare at my fat ass, though I suppose you were back there sniffing it secretly. I don't mind when you make jokes about it. We're friends, it's just fun for me, and something you really want."

Joel didn't say anything, I may have doubted my instinct had it not been for one fact. He still hadn't moved. My ass remained hovering inches from his face.

"Honestly, just admit..."

Prrrbbb

"...you have..."

Pffftttt

"...a fart fetish".

PPRRRRRRPPPBBBBB

With each toxic blast Joel closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. When the last fart ended he looked up at me. Eyes watering. Clearly conflicted to unload his biggest secret. As seconds ticked like an eternity, the silence lingering along with the smell of my farts in the air, Joel eventually reached for his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. I could see it pressed hard against the waistband of his jeans. That moment of pleasure must have tipped him over, he looked at my ass and whispered, "I have a fart fetish". And with that he dove in, sniffing the back of my joggers and getting his nose up in my crack. "Thank you!"

I lay there, proud of myself as Joel pigged out. "You're welcome...

PPPPPRRRRRRTTTTTTT

...what are friends for?"

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