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usually halsin's hugs last 30 minutes

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DaveFarts - Episode 29 “Ripped Ripper” [Episode List] Dave’s gym is closed due to maintenance so he decides to do some working out at home. Lazy Tim doesn’t want to join him, but Dave knows how to make things more… interesting for his kinky bro.

POV: Tim

Ripped Ripper

Another lazy Sunday evening, a great reward after a busy week like the one both me and my friend/roommate Dave just had. I was in my bedroom minding my own business, reading stuff on my laptop, listening to some music: perfect pre-Monday night for a guy like me, now 30, too tired at the idea of doing something that demands a bit more commitment than, well, this. I even closed the window shutters this morning so the Sun couldn’t bother me with its very inappropriate life-bringing light.

Luckily, Dave is a fellow lazy man, so I know I have a good roommate when it comes to just chilling in silence, without even interacting, after a long week. I’ll ask if he wants pizza though, least I can do for not, well, not making up any plans for tonight.

“Babe, come here!”

Speak of the Devil.

I heard my bro from his room, next to my own. I know him, he probably didn’t even need me for anything important, as his voice had that tone he uses to mess with me (and our other buds) like the idiot prankster he sometimes can be.

“Here I come.” I replied, very maturely putting a lot of emphasis on that last word.

I… took my time to actually go on check on him, ‘cause I liked the song I was listening to. Once it was over, I managed to get up, almost tripping on my own sweatpants and slippers somehow.

I walked to his room, knocked a couple of times on the door, which was open, and looked at him with the most bored expression I could muster. 

“You rang?” 

Faint rock music was coming out of Dave’s smartphone on a desk while he was sitting on his bed. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, a pair of grey basketball shorts, and sneakers.

“Not interested.” I then said, walking back to my room.

I heard Dave laugh and then his own footsteps right behind me. He grabbed my left arm and pulled me back to his room. I didn’t fight back ‘cause I know I couldn’t; not because of Dave being strong or anything but because I knew he won’t leave me alone the whole evening.

“Not gonna let you dump me for the fourth time this week.” he said.

“I said I’m not interested.” I replied.

He let me go, sat again on his bed and looked up to me.

“No, you said you wanted to exercise.”

“…eventually!”

“You didn’t say ‘eventually’, you said ’next week’.” He got up and patted my shoulder. “Come on, give it a shot.”

I sighed, defeated, but I still wanted to slip my way out of that situation in a way or another.

“I already tried the gym with you once and I got bored pretty quickly.”

“Oh shut up, you stopped showing up because you were too busy crushing on that hot guy, so much so you got too afraid to work in with him.”

I looked at him with a puzzled look, pretending to have no idea of what was he talking about.

“Also I’m way hotter than him and I’m very offended by your poor taste.” he joked.

I rolled my eyes in response, even though, yeah, I do think Dave is quite hot, regardless of my kink obviously.

“Look.” I said. “I just don’t feel like it today, I hav-“

“I have to work tomorrow” he completed my sentence, also doing a very poor imitation of my voice. “So do I, man. It’s not even 4:00 PM. The Sun’s still up. Do you even look outside of your window sometimes?”

I literally shook my head in disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

I sincerely thought it was, like, almost dinner time. Maybe Dave’s got a point, after all.

“…maybe you’re right.”

I noticed a small exercise mat on the floor by Dave’s bed; I simply sat there, waiting for my friend’s instruction.

“Alright, lead me to a healthy life of wellness where I don’t trip on my own slippers.”

“Well you’re in the wrong place!” Dave excitedly said, in a bit of self-irony since he’s not super fit himself, but he’s better than me at this no doubt.

The room was big enough so the two of us could lie on the floor. He pretty much lied on his back next to me as a way to “guide” me through the first exercise, one I was actually familiar with: crunches.

“Should I do some warm-up first?” I asked.

“Yeah, you should have, but since you’re right here just… give it a shot. It’s not like you’re gonna die.” He placed his hands on the back of his own head, starting the exercise. “…I think.”

Even though the fact that I’m into farts and that my friend right here constantly blasts me should be the most embarrassing thing about myself, my performance during this first, relatively easy exercise was definitely more painful to watch: I couldn’t even finish a set (around 20 crunches), while Dave was humiliating me. I struggled so much and felt pain in my chest for some reason; I was already sweating and panting.

Not even 5 minutes in and I already wanted to quit.

“Yeah.” I managed to say, lying on my back, as my bro kept crunchin’. “Not my cup of tea.”

“The hardest part is getting started.” he commented.

“Wow. Thanks Master.” I replied, sarcastically.

He stopped mid-crunch, and turned to me, looking me at funny.

“Tim, blasting you with my farts doesn’t make me your Master.” he said, with a mocking tone.

I instantly sat back up as if I woke up from a nightmare. 

“What the fuck.” I turned to him, as he resumed doing his crunches. “Where did that come from?!”

“It’s fine bro.” he kept teasing me. “You can keep calling me ‘Dave’ if that’s fine for you.” he laughed.

Hearing my straight friend just casually making references to my fart kink, let alone the fact that he constantly face-farts me, will always be wild to me, like a fever dream. And also insanely hot, dammit.

“Is this because I suck at doing crunches?” I asked, not very politely.

“No, it’s because you’re already giving up.” 

“It’s just…” I sighed. “That’s just my thing bro, sorry. But thanks for trying to help, really.”

I lied on my back again, defeated, as Dave kept exercising. I could sense my friend looking at me, probably with his usual smirk, completely unfazed by me moping around, exhausted.

“Well… maybe I can do something to make things a bit more interesting for your lazy ass.” I heard him say, finally breaking the silence.

A silence that soon became a distant memory as the sound of Dave’s sudden, loud fart shook the entire room, easily surpassing the faint rock music coming from his phone. I’m used to my bro’s blasts and trust me, they are almost always loud, but this one felt even stronger somehow. It was also, but that goes without saying, long, like 9 seconds long. 

As ridiculous as I may sound… I had to see it. 

I sat back up one more time so I could get a good view and I saw Dave still lying on his back, one leg up to ease the blast out. How the grey fabric of his basketball shorts could endure that stream of gas is a mystery to me. His eyes were closed: he had the facial expression of someone surprisingly struggling to keep that blast going, a sign that he was holding that gas in for a while, which is unusual ‘cause my friend usually can rip monstrously long and loud blast with relative low effort.

Whether the case… that was a very hot sight, the tent I pitched in my sweatpants being the undeniable proof.

As the fart kept going, Dave lifted his left leg even more, as if there was a recoil, making it even louder.

The fart lasted around 14 seconds and my friend let out a quick sigh of relief as he ripped one last toot out. That sounded (and looked) more exhausting than me trying to do crunches.

The teasing bastard winked at me, ‘cause he knows how to press all the right buttons of my fetish.

“You know what I’m capable of…” he said. “Now imagine my skills, like, powered up by protein shakes.” he laughed and let another loud, but shorter (around 3 seconds) toot out to prove it, not that he needed to, as his farting skills are always jaw-dropping.

Still, he’s a teasing bastard.

The scent of his ass polluting the room reached my nose and I coughed a bit for how rancid that was.

“Are you seriously… bribing me with farts?” that’s a sentence I just said, fuck my life.

“Maybe.” another quick toot followed. “Is it working?”

“I’m going to punch you.” 

“Can’t finish a set of crunches and he wants to punch me.” he laughed. “Pissing you off is so easy bro.”

“I’m not pissed off.” I wanted to clarify. “You… you’re just making me hard.”

Even though Dave knows about my kink and fully accepted me, I still have a hard time letting him know that his farting skills (and teasing, nonetheless) never fail to give me a massive boner.

Dave looked at me funny, faking a serious expression. Then let out another loud rip in response, around 4 seconds long. Why do I even worry…

“Of course.” I simply said, too embarrassed to even look at him though.

As usual, he didn’t care, and only found my awkwardness hilarious. Disgustingly hilarious.

“It’s fine… at least you tried.” he then said. “We’ll give it another shot tomorrow.” 

I turned to him, appreciating the encouraging words.

“Still.” he said, adjusting his position. “I’m still gonna need a spotter to count those.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, without thinking. “I can do that.”

He let out an evil cackle in response, with that smug, hot smirk drawn on his face.

“So, what are we counting? Pushups? Crunches? Stars?”

I remained seated on the floor as Dave stood up, easily towering over me. He looked down to me and I, silly me, realised too late where this was going, even though I should have known.

“Who said anything about pushups and crunches?”

My gassy friend turned around and, simply put, sat full weight on my head as if it was a stool, his very gentle way to force me to lie down, with yet another loud toot thrown into the mix for good measure, one that I could properly smell this time.

The protein shakes are a powerful fuel and the scent reminded me of rotten eggs, which made me cough again as I lied down, letting my bro’s ass crush me.

However, that didn’t happen, not as violently as I expected at least. Dave’s ass was actually hovering only inches from my face; he could easily simply sit on me and let his ass roar but for some reason he didn’t.

“One.” I heard Dave say.

A fart quickly followed, loud, high pitched and wet-ish. I had to close my eyes as I literally felt the rancid gas erupting on my face, the thin grey fabric of Dave’s basketball shorts being the only thing separating me from his raging anus.

After a couple of seconds, the fart ended, and my bro got back up, but he wasn’t done at all. He let me took some breaths of (relatively) fresh air, only to bend his knees again mere moments later.

He was squatting over my face, basically, his ass barely tickling the tip of my nose.

“Two.”

Yet another impressive fart, the stench adding up to what was left of the previous one. Things were already getting too exhausting even for my trained nostrils: this is why I should never leave my room again.

But as much as I could “hate” what was happening, as Dave’s ass roared all over my face, my boner only got harder. My bro is not the hottest man in the world but he is quite hot and having a guy like him blasting me so effortlessly, no strings attached, will never cease to amaze me. 

I was definitely enjoying the sound more than the smell however, which made me feel like I was drowning in a sewer.

“What the fuck did you put in that protein shake, man?!”

I managed to ask, my voice being almost nothing compared to the loudness of the fart Dave was still ripping all over me. However, he did hear me, as his ass “bounced” a bit over my nose, a sign that he was laughing like the jerk bully he sometimes can be.

After a total of 12 seconds I was greeted with newfound silence and my bro got up, but before I could do or say anything or, you know, breathe, he squatted again.

“Three.”

Another loud rip, this time shorter, about 4 seconds, but still extremely dangerous stench-wise. Also, those were getting wetter and wetter. The sweat dampening Dave’s asscrack through his grey shorts didn’t help at all and only made the fart wetter and the stench stronger.

My bro’s ass went silent and I quickly asked a simple question.

“How many squats are you planning to do exactly?”

Dave laughed in response, as usual. “You tell me, it’s leg day.”

The second part of his answer was him squatting again on my face, this time making sure to crush my skull. He then made sure to shove down my throat and nostrils another powerful, protein shake-powered blast.

A wet one, a fully wet one, but Dave was a pro, so I knew it was just very nasty gas. Still, a good challenge to test the limits of my already disgusting kink. The blast was so powerful it made droplets of sweat from his ass rain all over my face: whether Dave was sweating because of the squats or the endeavor of pushing such big farts out I shall never know.

What I did know, is that after 9 seconds, Dave got up again, and at this point I couldn’t even remember what pure oxygen tasted like as not only my face, but the entire room was now basically engulfed with gas.

Dave instead, towering over me, proudly took a deep breath, showing off his muscles (which wasn’t a lot, but he definitely looked ripped when compared to me) and then stared down at his victim.

“And you wanted to quit.” he stated.

I couldn’t even come up with a proper comeback because his ass was already in my mouth, hastily erupting yet another fart, one I could actually taste.

He kept squatting on my face, repeatedly, each time ripping a fart, a loud wet rip, each time sweating more and more. My friend was wearing a pair of grey basketballs shorts but all of that sweat made his asscrack completely visible, basically proving he went commando for some reason, which also meant that there was basically nothing between me and the sheer force of Dave’s anus.

My bro farted so many times in my face over the last months I couldn’t even count it, but things rarely got this… filthy.

I got my face soaked wet in sweat which wasn’t even mine, but rather from Dave’s ass, fart-scented and fart-flavoured sweat; kink or not, my limits were being tested here.

And apparently, Dave’s job is completely ignoring such limits.

For his 20th and final squat, he just completely sat on my face, spreading his legs wide, so my nose could easily fit in his sweaty, ripe asscrack. He wiggled his ass as if he was wiping the sweat off of it using my face, and then I felt him push.

Bubbles, that’s how I can describe it. That display of flatulence was as wet and disgusting as you imagine, a mix of gas and sweat engulfing my nose and nostrils, making my entire head shake, so rancid I could smell it without even breathing in. 

The fart was so thick I could taste it and my eyes were burning for all that gas.

I feared that Dave’s limit were also being tested here, given how wet that fart was; but no, it was just terrible, terrible air coming out from his sweaty ass.

After almost 20 seconds of torture, I was done.

The sewer comparison I made before was now in full effect: truth to be told, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was drowning, suffocating, and I wanted to get out of there, I needed air, like actual air, oxygen.

Mustering all the strength I have in what passes for “muscles” in my arms, I managed, not without struggle, to actually push Dave’s roaring ass away from my face, which actually surprised him as he tripped over.

I coughed my way to freedom and took deep long breaths. The air in the room was still filthy but it felt like pure fresh air compared to the source, the depths of my friend’s ass who, in the meantime, actually stopped farting. I remained there, lying down, wondering how I could even survive those blasts.

Despite being disgusted, pre-cum leaked from the tip of my hard cock, so I guess this wasn’t beyond my limits after all. 

As I kept trying to clean my nostrils by taking more deep breaths, I heard Dave, lying next to me just like before, slow clapping, as if he was some kind of villain of a heist movie being (falsely) impressed by the heroes.

I scolded him with an annoyed glare. “What the fuck are you doing now?”

“Not bad for a first day, huh?” he simply said, with a smirk. “You managed to lift me, that’s impressive.”

“Those were my survival instincts kicking in.” I remarked.

I lied down, exhausted, staring at the ceiling, Dave doing the same. I could once again hear the faint rock music coming from his phone on the desk: good, I was afraid today’s ass-thunders made me deaf.

“I wanna try again tomorrow.” I admitted. “No farts though.” I quickly added.

He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

We remained silent for a few moments, as I tried to ignore the massive boner I still had.

“Look at us.” Dave said. “Covered in sweat, panting. It’s like we just had sex.” he joked.

“You wish.” I replied.

A few more moments of silence, a silence that Dave broke one last time by doing a deft leg-lift to rip a quick, loud, wet toot.

“Told ya it’s leg day.”

The End

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Happy Father's Day Pt. 3

Part One Part Two - The farts of a good friend's dad.

I had been to Jack's parents' house a lot, but I had never been in the garage. Jack was banned from it by Ken, who called it his "man place".

One time, Andrea finished dinner and asked me to go out and get Ken. I walked out the back door and took the sidewalk to the small garage bordering a gravel alley. I knocked and waited, but a saw was running inside, louder than me.

I opened the door as the table saw stopped. Ken had a bunch of wood in all different lengths sitting all around him. I loved the smell of wood, but it was covered by an even better smell; several of his farts concentrated into this little building. It was like dozens of rotten, fermented eggs. "Jesus. Just came to tell you dinner's ready."

"Jesus?" Ken asked with a grin.

"The farts." I waved a hand through the air.

"Oh. Didn't know it was that bad." Ken messed with his wood pieces. "Tell her I'll be right there."

I wanted to wait for him within the farts, but I didn't push my luck, going back to the house. I told Andrea Ken filled the garage with farts. She informed me of a new medication he was on that made his farting worse.

"Is that possible?" I asked.

It was, but I didn't learn that for a few more months. The next time I came over to Jack's parents' house, it was dinnertime. Jack and I ate with them and then stayed around the table to talk.

Ken had been standing since he'd finished, pacing between the dining room and kitchen and playing on his phone. He returned to the dining room after being in the kitchen for a few minutes. Ken turned his back towards the table and leaned forward. The fart came in three bubbly sounds, loud as ever.

It took less than two seconds for the smell to punch. It smelled just like one of those fart bombs, like an entire bottle of fart spray had been used all over the room, like the eggy chemical plant half an hour down the highway. Ken left the dining room without reacting, saying anything, or taking in the aftermath of his gas.

Andrea didn't say anything, but Jack got up. "That's so freaking bad."

"He can't help it. It's his meds," said Andrea.

"Well, what was his excuse before?" Jack argued.

"I can't believe that's just one fart," I said with wide eyes, taking in covert heavy breaths of it.

A few minutes on, a whopper sounded from the kitchen, like trying to get a wet engine to start.

"Fuck. I was just gonna get ice cream," Jack groaned.

"That's what I'm doing!" Ken yelled. "Come get you some."

"Not until that fart clears," said Jack. "Can't you just get me some?"

"I'll do it." I said it like I was annoyed, but I was the furthest thing from it. I got up and went to the kitchen, finding this fart matched the power of the last.

Ken scooped ice cream into a bowl and stood by the counter, eating it while he watched his phone. I prepared two bowls of ice cream for Jack and I, going slow so I could stay in the fart. I finally couldn't stall any longer and took the ice cream to the table.

There weren't any farts while Jack and I ate our ice cream. I heard Ken get a second bowl. By the time I finished my first, he was done with his second. I returned to the kitchen to find him standing against the sink, looking out the window. He looked back at me. "Hey!"

"What?" I knew where this was going. Ken took his right foot off the floor and swung his leg in a circle, cranking out a sputtering blast in a higher pitch than his norm.

"Nice," I said, walking right into it to take the bowls and spoons to the sink.

Ken slid to the side, laughing as I acted normally while smelling his nasty gas. "You're a bold one."

"It's just a fart." I washed the bowls, even though Andrea always insisted on the dishes, only to stay there longer.

"Tell that to Jack."

The time after that, we were set to go to a creek they frequented. We put chairs, intertubes, towels, and everything else necessary in their SUV. We ate before we left, so we'd have time to digest before swimming. The ride was only half an hour, so there wasn't much time for farts before we arrived.

Ken parked in a makeshift gravel parking lot on the side of the back road. We left the car, carrying stuff with us. Ken walked between two big trees, effortlessly walking down a steep trail to a pebble beach and a deep, brownish creek.

Ken helped Andrea down, and Jack and I were close behind. We set up chairs and towels on the beach, along with a cooler and the two intertubes. We took off our shorts and shoes. Ken's torso was paler than the rest of him and very hairy, and his equally pale feet were long and slender.

Jack stuck a toe in the water and backed up. "I'm not ready yet."

"Is it cold?" I stepped into the water, up to my ankles. "It's actually kinda warm."

"Just get in!" Ken carried an intertube into the water, until it reached his waist. He pushed the intertube down and jumped, landing on the round ring. It almost flipped, but Ken fixed his balance, head on one side and feet hanging over the other.

I had reached him by now and held my breath, completely submerging myself in the temperate water. The unmistakable sound of loud fart bubbles in water occurred close to me. I opened my eyes underwater, watching the last of the bubbles flow from Ken's ass in the center of his tube.

I came above water, pushing my hair back and wiping my eyes. "I heard you fart from down there."

Ken beamed. "I was just gonna ask if you heard it! Hey Jack, bring me a beer."

Andrea wasn't getting in, sitting in a chair by the cooler to sunbathe. She grabbed a beer can and handed it to an approaching Jack. Jack slowly stepped into the creek. "Huh. I guess it's not that bad."

"Told you," I said.

Jack joined us, handing Ken his beer. We swum around for a while. Jack eventually brought in the other intertube.

A few hours passed with Ken mostly floating apart from us. Andrea called us back to eat the sandwiches she made. I went to get a beer, but Ken was already at the cooler. He bent over to get his third beer, and a wet fart tore from his wet shorts. He straightened up and jumped. "Didn't know you were there."

"Yeah, right." I pushed him to the side and bent to grab a can, taking a full sniff of the fart that he couldn't see.

"I really didn't!" Ken sat in the camping chair next to Andrea. I put my chair next to his, and Jack sat down on my other side.

It was quiet while we ate, except for the old boombox on low volume. Ken drank the rest of his beer, and Andrea handed him another. He stood and walked to the edge of the water, cracking the can open. He took a few deep gulps, then walked back to us. Out of nowhere, Ken turned and thrust his ass by my face to deliver a bubbly duck fart.

I turned my head away. "Damn!"

"Gotcha!" Ken turned back around, sipping more of his beer. "I'm gonna go take a piss."

He put his beer in the cup holder on his chair and hurried to a row of trees. He started peeing and let out a fart sounding just like the last one, only a second longer. Ken walked back, another smaller fart falling out on the way. "I'm fuckin' leaking!"

He finished the rest of his beer and returned to the water. I stayed behind with Jack, having a second beer when my first was dead. We eventually went back in, swimming around some more.

Later, Ken went to get out, and his shorts slid halfway down his ass. "Boys!"

We looked, and he mooned us with his full ass, delivering a buzzing fart at the same time. He pulled up his pants and laughed hard, grabbing a towel.

We were getting ready to leave, putting on shorts and shoes and gathering the stuff. "I'll unlock the car."

Ken walked ahead of us, farting on every step for five steps. Jack followed with a grimace. "Did you have to?"

"Fart? Well, yeah." Ken climbed the hill, Jack staying far back from his butt. I breathed Ken's trail of gas with no problem, finding it stronger from the beers.

We got to the SUV and put everything in. Ken stood outside the driver door, drying off his shorts. He wrapped the towel around his waist and cranked his arm like a semi driver, squatting out another ripper. He grinned at Jack and I in the back seat. "I got the gas, boys."

No farts on the way to the house. When we arrived, Andrea and Ken took stuff in first, then me and Jack went in after them. I was happy to find another fart trail spanning from the front door to the back. I reached the kitchen in time to see Ken hurry into the bathroom, locking the door and turning on the overhead fan.

I once went with them to Walmart. Andrea pushed the cart with Ken walking ahead. He stopped a foot in front of the cart and let out a gargling quack.

The intense eggy fart spray smell spread down the aisle. Andrea blinked through it. "We should split up. I'll do the grocery shopping, and you go get your new clothes for work and whatever else you need."

"I'll go with you. I need some new clothes." I really did, but the possibility of more farts were a bigger deciding factor. Jack stayed with Andrea as Ken and I walked away to the men's clothing.

He got slacks and polos for his new job at a store. "Need new shoes, too. I don't think these will do." Ken gestured at his dirty sneakers.

"I'll catch up." I looked through a rack of pajama pants. He walked off. I collected all the clothes I wanted and found him in the shoe section.

Ken sat on the box thing to try on a pair of shoes, looking much like his current ones but clean. As he bent, he let a fart roar against the wood beneath him. I came up behind him, laughing. "Damn."

"Think anyone heard that?" Ken smirked as he threw the new shoes back in the box.

"Probably like four aisles over!"

He chuckled and stood, fanning a hand towards me from his ass. Another fart, a silencer, was delivered straight to me. It took over the aisle with the other one. I shook my head and repeated, "Damn."

Ken continued laughing and fanning.

We went over to electronics to look at the big TV's. Ken crossed his arms and swung one hip to the side to let out a loud fart. A couple people in different aisles looked, but Ken was unbothered, going on about the specs of the TV's.

We left Walmart and went to a restaurant after that had Southern comfort food. It was packed and loud, but the food was good. As we headed back to the car, Ken got slapping walking farts. Andrea said, "Air it out before you get in, please."

I didn't want him to air it out. I really loved the ridiculous pungency of his gas and his attitude towards it.

Still more coming soon...

[coreslatenate]

(18+ CONTENT) A series of kinky fart stories about two best buds in their late 20s/early 30s: Tim, a gay guy with a fart fetish, and Dave, his gassy, straight best bud (and, eventually, roommate).

Due to Tumblr pages not working properly, I'm going to use (as long as the website lets me) this post as the episode list, a hopefully useful way to "quick access" the entire series.

Including the very first episode, there are currently 30 available stories and the list below is going to be updated whenever new ones are being written/coming soon.

Thanks everyone and have (kinky) fun!

0. Dave, My Best Friend

1. FartsApp

2. Emergency Shower

3. Fart Race

4. Post Gym Gas

5. Drunken Fart Contest

6. Fart Bet, Easy Bucks

7. The Noisy Roommate

8. Lather, Rinse, Inhale!

9. Trapped In The Closet

10. The Elevator

11. VoiceFarting

12. Audio Mixing

13. When She Finally Leaves

14. Lights, Camera, Farts!

15. OnlyFarts

16. Just a Beer

17. Fart Pillow

18. Double T

19. Quick Session 🔊

20. Camping (T)Rip

21. No Fart Run

22. Road Rip 🔊

23. Smells Like Sheet

24. Windy Mountain

25. Endurance Test

26. Critical Stink

27. Spicy Gas

28. Ass Kisser, Ass Sniffer

29. Ripped Ripper

30. ???

[coreslatenate]

The Saga of Billy Boy Part 12 - Date Night

As Will and Clay’s new roommate, Frank has weaseled his way into Friday night’s date. Get ready for the foul stench of romance 😈 where you can find all parts of TSOBB

- - - - -

Clay and I waited on the bench at the bus stop, as Frank leaned on the post looking out for the bus. I appreciated that this stop was in a busy area, so I had a chance to get a little fresh air and a break from having my face in Frank’s ass. Only a little, seeing that I was still face level with Bomber and he doesn’t care how many people are around.

PREEERRRRRT

A few people walking by either chuckled or plugged their nose as we were hit with another blast from Bomber. While I enjoyed these gifts, I hoped the bus would be here soon for Clay’s sake.

My wish came true as the bus approached. Clay and I stood up and Frank gestured for us to enter. “After you, Billy Boy,” he added with a wink.

When I climbed on the bus, I noticed Frank whisper something to Clay. Preoccupied, I found a spot on the bus and sat in the middle. The seat was a tight fit, so Frank and Clay each had to lay a leg over me. Fortunately, there was only people behind us, so no one could see how intimately we were sitting.

PRTRRRT

I felt a short but loud fart erupt from Clay. “Damn, Billy Boy!” Frank yelled loudly, plugging his nose, “can’t you hold it in until we’re off the bus?”

“It sure does stink, Willy.” Clay added, projecting for the whole bus to hear. My face grew red as I quickly put together their rouse. I placed my hands over my growing crotch.

BWRWWRBRWRWRWRWR

An even louder, brassy fart trumpeted for a whopping ten seconds. A feat that could only be achieved by Bomber. Clay could only cover his nose, leaning over to stifle laughter and coughing.

“I told you not to eat that burrito!” Frank chastised, ruffling my hair.

The charade continued until we arrived at the movies, receiving ugly looks and even some words from passengers as they left. I took a deep breath of movie theater popcorn as I led the group off the bus.

As we entered the theater, we realized we were the only ones there. As soon as we picked out our seats, Frank looked at me and Clay, “Billy Boy, hand that popcorn to Clay.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing where this was going. I turned to hand the popcorn to Clay; when I turned back, Frank was bent over with Bomber fully exposed. Frank grabbed my head and pulled it in.

BRRRRRRRT

“Bomber just wanted to give you a kiss before the movie. He’ll let you watch the show, but he’ll be sending you messages,” Frank jiggled his cheeks against my face. I gave a last big sniff before removing myself and sitting back down.

We all sat down, and Frank immediately christened his seat with a fart. In the five minutes before the trailers, Frank managed to fart over twenty times. The whole theater reeked of Bomber’s love.

As the trailers started, I realized I had to pee. I handed the popcorn to Clay and walked quickly to the lobby. When I returned, I found Frank in my spot next to Clay. Frank saw me and said “You didn’t think I’d do all that farting in my own chair?”

I started to cross to sit in the open seat next to Clay, but Frank grabbed my arm. “Bomber was warming that seat up for his sweetheart. You wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

I gave in and sat down into Frank’s old spot. I immediately noticed a damp feeling in the cushion from all the farts Bomber unleashed. The smell radiated here more than ever and my boner raged on.

I noticed Frank and Clay whispering and giggling when I went to get some popcorn. As I started to pull away with a handful, Frank grabbed my wrist. He pulled my hand down to his ass and Bomber sprinkled my popcorn with a fart. I ate the popcorn, as the mix of aroma made for an odd experience. Frank farted on every handful of popcorn I got throughout the movie.

As the movie neared its end, I looked over to find Frank and Clay making out. Frank had each of his hands stroking their cocks. Frank slipped an eye open and saw me watching. “You know what you have to do if you want to get off too, Billy Boy.”

Understanding his order, I put my face between his legs while I slipped my cock out of my pants.

BRRRBBRBRBRBT

I sniffed vigorously as I felt Frank’s balls slap against my forehead. Frank continued to jack himself and Clay off, while I took care of myself.

BBRFPTPPRPRPORBRBRT

Another fart blasts my face forcing me to climax. I finish stroking and start to get up, but Frank forces my head back down.

BRRRRT BBRRRRRT BRBRBRBRBRBRBRBRT

Frank and Clay both begin to moan loudly as they cum. Frank covers your hair with his jizz. He begins rubbing it in, dissolving it as if it were hair gel. Frank proceeded to force me to lick up any other cum from myself and Clay.

The bus ride home was empty, so I sat alone as Frank and Clay stood in front of me. Every few seconds, one of them would pull my face in and rip a fart. Mostly Frank.

At home, we headed straight to the bedroom. The farts on the bus had my cock ready for round two. I laid down face up. Frank sat Bomber down onto my face; Clay sat on my stomach with his ass facing my cock. Each ass showered me in farts as I got off for a second time.

Exhausted, Frank and Clay joined me on each side to cuddle as we drifted to sleep.

That I dreamed I was back in the theater with Frank, Clay, Brad, Tony and all kinds of people I’d known in my life. As the screen lit up, I saw myself naked on my knees.

The audience burst out laughing, several people nearby pointing me out. “Tell me what you want Billy Boy” I recognized as Frank coming from off screen.

“I want to sniff your farts, Master Bomber.” I answered in the movie. I covered my face as the audiences laughter soared.

I peaked through my fingers as I saw Bomber come into frame. Makeup had been put on Bomber to make it appear like a woman’s face. The audience erupted as I begin making out with the lips.

BRBRBRBRBBRT

Movie me sniffs and kisses, getting deeper into the crack and covering myself in makeup. I look away from the screen to realize the men around me had stood up and several more were on their way, not a pair of pants in sight.

Recognizing each face, I saw the men of my life surround me. The last thing I remember is the dozens of asses blasting endless farts.

- - - - -

Hopefully more will be coming soon! 😃

Can’t wait for Part 13? Get in the holiday spirit with Billy Boy in Part 1 of the holiday special here!

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The Saga of Billy Boy Part 10 - A New Smell

Now that Frank has moved in, he's looking to test Will's limits. Read as Will gets a face full of a whole new ass. If you need it, here is a masterpost with links to all parts of TSOBB.

- - - - -

The next morning, Frank and I had a meeting scheduled with Tony. He wanted to update us on the client he had just gotten back from. Frank knocked on the closed door to Tony’s office. “Come on in.” He called out to the two of us. 

Frank opened the door and we were both immediately met with an awful, eggy stench. Having grown accustomed to the various smells Bomber produces, I hid my disgust. Having grown up with Bomber, Frank didn’t show the slightest sign Tony’s office smelled like a gas station restroom that’s never been cleaned. 

“Have a seat.” Tony motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. Frank and I sat down and I saw the discomfort in Tony’s face as he began the meeting. “Thank you for joining me. TKRTS had a lot to discuss while we were on site. They’re looking to ex-” Tony paused and tensed, letting his breath out slowly. 

“Are you feeling okay, Mr. Romano?” Frank asked, concerned. 

“My breakfast isn’t really agreeing with me this morning,” Tony explained. “We have a lot to go over and I don’t want this place to stink… well worse.” 

Frank looked pensive. “Your desk raises to a standing position, right?” 

Oh no

Tony nodded his head. Frank gave a confident smile, “I think I know what could help. Billy has gotten excellent at keeping our office smelling fresh. I’m sure he’d be happy to help us out now.” Frank said as a fact and turned to me.

Thank God I had a notepad in my lap to cover my crotch, but my blushing face was left exposed. 

“Don’t be silly, Frank. I wouldn’t ask… Billy to do that.” Tony defended. 

But Frank insisted, “No disrespect, sir, but you look like you could burst any minute. Can we really handle it smelling any worse? Besides, I’ve fully taken over TKRTS work, so it’s okay if Billy misses a few words here and there. I’ll take thorough notes. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could Frank possibly think I’d be okay with this? Tony is an asshole and now I might have to literally smell his. I was speechless as I watched Tony tense up again. He held for a second, but gave in and began to raise his desk to a standing position. 

Tony slowly stood up and pushed back his chair, leaving plenty of room for me to lose any pride I still had in this office. “Your hardwork will not go unappreciated, Billy.” He said now looking down on me. 

I rose from my chair, continuing to use my notepad to cover my increasingly hard cock. With my head held down in shame, I approached the space between Tony and his chair and got on my knees to be face level with Tony’s voluptuous ass. I looked into his pants, tightly caressing his massive cheeks. The air here smelled stronger than the rest of the room, and, while I may have grown accustomed to the odors Bomber produced, every man produces his own special brew and I was struggling to handle it. Even finding farts sexy as hell doesn’t exactly make them smell like flowers. 

I saw Frank peek around Tony to inspect my position. “You won’t catch anything from there, Billy. We learned from experience that you’ve really got to dig in there to keep the smell from polluting the rest of the room.” 

“You know better than me,” Tony conceded. “Feel free to press your face in there, Billy. You won’t make me uncomfortable.” 

I shot Frank a look and inched closer to Tony’s ass. As I made contact, I began to shimmy my face into the crack, as I had learned to do. The soft material of Tony’s pants wedged into his ass with ease. I wiggled until the aroma of ass grew strong enough that I was sure my nose had found the hole. 

Frank must have been watching as I went because as soon as I was nose to hole, he uttered, “that should do it. Feel free to relax and let loose, Mr. Romano.” 

I felt Tony’s ass press against my face and he let go of the strain he was holding. His hole pulsed against my nose, as the air he was holding began the journey toward departure. I braced myself and I thought I may have heard an “I’m sorry for this” from Tony, but I couldn’t be certain once the eruption began. 

I was nowhere near prepared for the magnitude that Anthony Romano’s ass had to offer. While only lasting seven seconds, his fart felt like eternity. All of my senses were overtaken as the loud blast left his hole. My eyes saw black from the mounds of ass closing them shut. My ears heard the booming roar of Tony’s ass crying out. I smelled and tasted the eggy, shitty, and somehow trash-like stench seeping from Tony to me. All I felt was his now moist bottom engulfing my face. At that moment, there was nothing in my world but Tony’s long, nasty, wonderful fart. 

Despite the shocking difficulty, I sniffed up as well as I could out of habit. “God, that felt good.” Tony admitted. “Thank you both for your… innovative thinking. Unfortunately, I think that one has some friends, so it’s probably best for you to stay back there, Billy.” 

I rolled my eyes for no one and continued to sniff what was still left behind. 

“Billy is doing a great job; I didn’t smell a thing!” Frank declared, solidifying my place for this meeting as Tony’s chair. 

“Glad to hear it!” Tony agreed. “Now back to the matter at hand, TKRTS is looking to expand their customer base. They’re aiming to-” but that’s all I was able to hear before 

BRRRRRRT 

“-which they believe will raise the bottom line significantly. They-”

PSPSPSPRRRT

“-giving them a head up on their competitors. Having this unique-” 

FLLRLRLRLRLRLRLT

“-further diversify their market, leading to a-” 

BRBRBRBRBRRRRRRSPT

I gave up trying to follow what Tony had to say when I realized I had a full time job ahead of me sniffing his farts. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Tony had for breakfast, but his gas never slowed down. Every minute of that meeting, Tony’s ass blew all kinds of smells into my face and I worked hard to sniff them all up. After fifteen minutes of nothing but Tony’s farts, he finally began to conclude the meeting. 

“Well, that pretty well covers everything I wanted to go over with you.” Tony concluded. “I hope you took good enough notes to share with Billy. I can only imagine how much of that he got. But you did a great job today, Billy. I’m proud of your hard work.” 

Tony reached down and ruffled my hair, my face still glued to his ass. Perhaps triggered by last night’s festivities, I felt my cock sputter in my pants at his touch. Thank God I still had my notepad. 

Frank and I left Tony’s office and I immediately turned on him. “What the hell was that about?!” 

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, innocently. 

“How in the world could you think I would’ve been okay with that?!” I countered. “What we do is between us.” 

“You’re right,” Frank receded. “I just thought Tony would never take our arrangement seriously if he didn’t see it for himself, one way or another. And by the look of that puddle in your pants that you can’t hide from me, you didn’t exactly hate your time in there.” 

I realized I had gotten lazy covering my crotch and quickly covered it with my notepad on the off chance we ran into Brad. “I guess you’re right about the arrangement… but I only sniff your farts, okay? We have a good story going since you have a condition, but I’d hate for them to get suspicious as to why I’m willing to do it.” 

“That’s fair,” Frank responded. “Besides, Bomber was super jealous the entire time, and I don’t think I can do that to him again.” He winked at me. 

I rolled my eyes as we entered our office. 

- - - - -

I couldn’t get the meeting out of my head as I dozed to sleep that night. I dreamt that I was in a dark room. My arms and legs were restrained. I felt a rim around the edge of my face, holding my head in place. A light flicked on to show that my head was facing the ceiling. I also could see Frank, Tony, and Brad looking down on me, laughing. They were in normal work attire, but instead of slacks, they had on only jockstraps. 

Tony was the one to interrupt the laughter. “Oh, Billy Boy. I’m so glad Frank has shown us what you’re really worth. It’s about time we put you to work doing what you love.” He lifted his hand to Frank for a high five. 

As Frank returned it, Brad chimed in. “My office always reeks of my gas, so I love the new Billy Boy Closet where we can go to let loose.” 

“I can’t believe you ever hired him for anything else.” Frank laughed. “Now, he can do what he does best and sniff all our farts.” 

All three turned around and I stared into their bare asses complimented by the jockstraps. They each sat down, surrounding my head in awful smells. Farts exploded out of each ass, as I dreamed for hours of endless farts and humiliation.

- - - - -

More parts of TSOBB coming soon!

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Gassy old man, stinking up his room after a long day

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Animation smears lecture from Chapter 3 or FULL VERSION of my Complete Introduction to 2D Animation which you can find on https://gumroad.com/stringbing

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Jinbe appreciation post

I heavily stan the whale shark boi so here’s some things I love about him

- is big and cuddly. want to hug. 

- that one moment where big mom was like “you can’t leave me i’m literally going to take your soul” and he was like “bitch see if i care”? iconic. 

- his lil topknot!!!! it’s so poofy!!!

- he has those wooden shoes that remind me kinda of heels??? like how can you walk sis??? absolute legend

- his lil f a n gs. i love them. they remind me of my cat’s

- my boi don’t even need a weapon. he finna bitch slap you with w a t e r

- the part in the fishman island arc where he was telling the crew about Arlong. both he and Nami got an enormous amount of my respect for how they each handled it. and his character development throughout the flashbacks was incredible.

- he’s so committed to his aesthetic?? like every costume change it’s the same exact clothing with a different pattern but he pulls it off so well??? like go off

- seems v strong. can probably lift as much as Zoro and i’m here for it

- sweet, caring uncle vibes- I keep forgetting he was kind of like a mafia boss figure in the Ryugu kingdom cause of how gentle he seems now

- has a cape

- “first son” or “knight of the sea” is such an insanely cool title, like ???? so many great characters have kinda dumb nicknames like “red-haired” (sorry shanks) or “mad monk” but “knight of the sea” is so classy!!! 

- can go from “ah i’m not really a confrontational person” to “pull up we gon fight” in less than a second. big mood tbh

- cares a shit ton about his country and would do anything to protect them. reminds me of Vivi.

- his smile??? so precious???? please protect him???

- his ideals and moral code is one of the purest i’ve seen in the series- he really just wants justice for those who deserve it and to help as many people as he can. will stab a bitch though, and i think that’s pretty true to the code of the strawhats.

- them frosted tips lmao

overall very sweet and strong i love him

feel free to add on uwu

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Beer and watersports with Izvy and dad please

i dont have any interest in drinking and i try to avoid situations where im the only sober person around but dads different because as long as he hasnt had to much we can just fuck like usual and he’ll pass out. only problem is his drunk brain thinks since im usually so eager to do piss play with him he doesnt have to break to take a a leak and he doesnt have to warn me either.

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There’s always room for more canines, for they are the best bois~! A pudgy golden retriever is leaning on his german shepherd roommate and telling him how his work day went~! Looks like the big gshep is a good listener and is quite close~ 

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CW: animal death

People have asked for more interactions between Life and Death. Life is bringing so much color into my comics haha <3

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[Commission] McCree’s Seat

I guess Genji is nice and comfy, everyone wins here!

I got to do this commission for a very cool person who prefers to remain anonymous, it’s been a while since I last time I did such a bootylicious McCree and I really like the results, hope you like it too!

Do you like my work? Support me on Patreon!

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Trevors in a good mood~

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crushed and toasted

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Mc3 as a Wolf Transient.

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Bull’s Eye

“Vaaashended..” Iron bull cursed. He and the Inquisitor found themselves at a dead end. The room was filled with large steel trimmed boxes. There was no escape.

“We fight then” The Inquisitor drew his sword.

“Not this one, boss. I’m not one to turn away from a fight but we have no exit. The whole base will flood this room if they catch us.” Bull said. He was feeling the wall for hidden doors. Sometimes these bandits were smarter than they looked. He tapped one of the crates. Then another. He found a hollow one. 

“Get in boss, we can hide till midnight then when there all asleep we can escape” Bull lifted the heavy hinged lid.

“You first” you said.

“Nah, if they find us I wanna be between you and the sharp edge of a weapon”

Bull lifted you up and set you in. He crawled in after. It was a tight fit for just a single human, let alone a qunari of bull’s swole size. The hatch was heavy though and when it closed it latched. A few moments of squirming and you were as comfortable as you were going to get.

The crate was well sealed, but not airtight. The body heat between you made you and Bull break out in a sweat.

“Boss? You good?"Bull asked.

"Good as I can be at the moment”

“That’s your face I feel isn’t it boss”

You paused. In the wriggling and wiggling to get the lid closed and be in a comfortable position Bull had squat squarely on your face.

“It is” you replied

You couldn’t see but you bet Bull was smiling.

“Shit boss, I wasn’t trying to. Here let me see if I can..” he tried to move. There was no way for his big body to fit inside the crate any other way. The shifting just resulted in his muscular cheeks slapping your nose side to side.

“It’s fine, it’s fine” you said, stopping him. 

He stopped. “Hopefully we won’t be in here to long”

The sweat was bad enough, but you were privy to the noxious fumes and odors of Iron Bulls rear.

“Less then four fucking days and here I am giving the Inquisitor the world’s longest Rik'na a'Ishi”

You were picking up a few qunari words since bull joined but that one was new.

“Oh. It’s just a stupid kid thing. Bullies tend to do it to weaker boys in the houses. I think the closest translation in human terms is smell, or stink face. Care to guess why?”

You didn’t need to think very hard. Your nose clued you in. “I can guess Bull. I got a good nose and I don’t think you bathed in a while”

A normal Rik'na a'Ishi would only be a few seconds. Have a friend kneel behind the target, push him so he falls, then rub your ass in his face. 

“What’s the point?” You ask.

“Kids being kids; make sure they know you’re the dominant type; sometimes just for a laugh.”

“From the outside I could see it being funny,” you said.

Bull chuckled

“Yeah go on you can laugh" 

"No boss, it’s not that. I can feel your breath and it tickles” Bull said.

You moved your face around in the darkness. You notice that your nose has wedged itself in a hole torn in Iron Bulls pants. You traced the curve of his taught skin till it found the hair mangled valley of his cheeks. The Iron Bull was going commando. Your nose jumped over the chasm. The way he had been squatting had peeled the cheeks apart slightly; there was still miles of nutty brown flesh between you and the bullseye.

“You got a hole in your pants I think” you said.

Bull chuckled. “Yeah, that was a good Farakes” He suddenly got real quiet, as if he let some secret slip.

“What’s a Farakas?”

‘It’s nothing boss.“

"Is it like a party?”

“No. Some things are best keep secret boss”

“Well now I really want to know. Tell me what is a Farakas?” You blew out your nose. If Bull wasn’t going to tell you he could expect a lot of tickling.

“I’d nothing. It’s like a belch..” he trailed off muttering something under his breath.

“I didn’t catch that last part; say again?”

“It’s like a belch..but from your ass.”

“You split a hole in your pants with a fart?”

“No, I split it with a good fart.” He shifted again. “It’s bad luck in the quen to say the word fart when your trapped in a cramped place; doubly so if it’s the Bull who has his ass wedged in your face”

You recall your times in the barracks as a soldier, your older brothers and uncles. “Give me some credit Bull, I’m no featherweight mage.”

“Oh boss, I know you’re as badass as they come, but you don’t know how bad the bulls ass can be. You know how Cullen keeps getting reports about a bear roaming around the camp at night but can’t seem to find it?”

You had read the reports. For the past three nights just before dawn the night watchmen had been reporting low and long growling sounds. They were expecting a bear woken from hibernation, but they had yet to find any signs of the creature.

“Those are me,” Bull said. “A sure sign I’m about to wake up is me letting slip with some slow growling juicy ones”

You shuddered “Maybe when we’re back at base we can share a drink and I can experience this legendary beast. From a safe distance downwind that is.”

You heard Bull’s stomach groan. It was the cry of a tortured soul.

“If we have to stay in here much longer you may get to experience it up close. I’m gonna pinch it off as long as I can boss” Bull said.

What felt like hours passed. Guards kept coming in on routine patrols, none the wiser that two stowaways were crammed in one of their boxes. Your shoulder had begun to cramp. You needed to stretch it. With some working you managed to press it between Bull’s legs.

“Woah, boss. Hello.” Bull jerked as your arm ran along something long and rubbery.

You gave it a squeeze. “Feels like some sort of toy snake?”

You heard bull chirp. “Close boss. That’s my toy snake”

You let go, red in the face. “Im sorry Bull I didn’t mean to” “It’s all good boss; I just usually like to know someone more than a few days before we get to the tug of war.”

Frantically you try and think of a way to change the topic, only to fail utterly by asking “So, what’s got you so excited?” You squint so hard. You wish you could slap your own face. Of all the things to ask.

“Well I was just thinking about the last time I ripped one in someone’s face. The chargers and I were on the storm coast. We were waiting for some nobles to finish whatever shit nobles do when they are together. I was leaning on a rock just watching the waves. In and out. In and out. Really hypnotic. Guess I nearly dozed off. Snapped back to life when I let off a real tak’rethanka– the wet roar of a dragon–. Rocky and Grim were behind me at the time. Poor grim took the brunt of the black. Rocky was ok. Nutty dwarf lost most of his sense of smell working with explosives. Grim though. That was the last day I remember Grim talking. Now he just grunts. I think I may have melted something in the guys brain, ya know boss?”

As Bull talked about the past you could feel his big rubbery snake bobbing and weaving up and down over your arm.

“That’s the kinda thing that gets you… excited… bull?” You say.

“Shiiit boss. No one really knows about that. I’m not usually with someone this long talking with them having my ass in their face. I’m into some weird shit aint I boss?” “Bull, if it’s one thing I’ve learned about the world so far, it that there is too much crazy shit to worry about what makes people happy. If it makes you feel good I say do it.” You tell him.

“You’re alright boss. More than all right. Don’t you worry though I won’t let it mess with the job. And i’ll make sure your plenty clear before I let rip” Bull says.

“That’s gonna be kinda hard in here don’t ya think. My face has been wedged in your ass for over an hour.” “I can hold it back boss”  Bulls stomach whined again, this time louder. “This is a nasty one though. It’s taking all my willpower to keep the beast at bay.”

“Just get it over with and let it rip. I don’t want you to explode” You tell him.

“Nah I can’t do that boss. This is a real bad one.”

“I know you want to Bull.” “No, no I want nothing of the sort” He tells you.

You reach out and slap his rubbery cock. “Your ardor gives you away. Trust is important, and truth is the basis of trust. You want to do this.”

Bull cursed in qunlat. “You see right through me boss.” He shifted again, “By the way I wanted to ask. That thing you do with your sword when you draw it. Where did you learn that?” “Well it’s a funny story, a few years ago” You start, but you never got to finish the story. As soon as he had distracted you, bulls cheeks let fly with a low rumbling fart. It was like staring into the mouth of a dragon. It washed over you like rain. The entire crate vibrated. Your nose was assaulted with the smell of fresh steaming shit. Bull was a consummate master of the gassy arts. He could have just let things out in one monstrous crack, but he metered it out, just enough to maintain a low droning hum. He caught you mid breath so you were forced to breath in a lung full through your nose. Your eyes watered. Suddenly you knew why Grim may have lost his ability to speak. 

The rest was silent.

You and Bull were in a sauna now. The floor was wet with buckets worth of sweat between you too. Bull just let out a sigh. 

“I tell you boss, very few things feel as good as letting it out after you’ve held it that long.” There was no answer. “Boss? Are you still alive down there?” You coughed. “…Bull” you weakly groan out. Alive, but possibly barley. “How in the the maker can you make such a thing inside you”

Bull was blushing again. “I know. I know. I’m a master. Bet you regret giving me the permission eh boss?” “Shit no Bull. Out of all the farts I’ve ever been privy to in my life, that one will go down as the most epic, the most legendary. You have my permission to let rip whenever, wherever, you want.” Bull stifled a belly laugh. “I don’t think the camp guards are gonna be happy about that.” “If anyone gives you trouble, you have my permission to sit on their heads. You can even sit on mine again if you ever want” You tell him.

There was a tender silence between you. As if you were both having a conversation about something more meaningful than farting.

“Boss….” Bull said. “Feel free to say no if this is outta line but, after this mess here is over. Do you wanna fuck?”