By: causticblast
PART 1
The sun was just beginning to paint its orange sheen over the restaurant windows when Fuuka walked through the polished glass door. Shades of dusk laid a striking backdrop against the head-to-toe gleam of her trademark cyan. While the eye-catching aqua-green was typically limited to just her hair, today she had incorporated the same hue into her knee-length dress, her clutch, right down to her heels—and the painted toenails peeking out the open-toed front, too. Golden lights from the chandeliers of the restaurant glinted off of her bare arms and shoulders, and the different shades of teal in her outfit similarly shone in the twinkling ambience. It made her look almost iridescent, like the glimmer of a hummingbird.
Makoto had an indomitable smile on his face as she sat down. He glanced down at her hands—even her nails were polished the same aqua-green color to go with the rest of her look. Dressed in a sharp suit himself, he reached for his wrists to adjust his cufflinks for the tenth time since he’d been in here. A nervous tic, flaring up again now that she was sitting across from him, looking as dazzling as ever.
“Excellent choice of venue,” she said. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
The words fell out of his mouth in a hazy string, his lips manifesting his inner thoughts before he even realized he had said anything aloud. A slip of the subconscious.
“Sorry, I…I just meant—”
He trailed off. Yeah, what did you mean, Makoto?
Not the most polished start to a date night, sure. But he meant what he said, even if he’d blurted it out…and his feelings for her weren’t exactly a secret by this point.
Fuuka blushed, merely replying with a soft, shy smile.
“You look dashing yourself. Especially tonight.”
Makoto just stared back at her. “...Thanks. You too.”
You’re an idiot. Quick, more words.
“Uh, anyway, should we take a look at the menu?”
Fuuka chuckled a little before reaching for a copy. As she opened it, her eyebrows flicked up in surprise. “Oh! Huh, yeah, this is a…really nice place…”
“Please don’t tell me you’re looking at the prices.”
“How can I not? They’re right there, and—”
“And it’s not something you need to be thinking about. I’ve wanted to treat you to a nice date for a long while now.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d be this fancy.” She looked up at him. “Are you sure about this?”
“Fuuka, for once, let me handle the numbers. Please. I want to do this for you. Get whatever you actually want to eat.”
“Well…” Fuuka’s eyes fell back to the menu. “I am pretty hungry…I did miss lunch…”
“Got caught up in your tinkering again?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Just a hunch. Hey, that’s all the more reason to not hold back. If I see you ordering a tiny little salad, Fuuka, I swear—”
“Okayy! Okay. Yeah, um, t-thank you.”
Makoto wasn’t sure if she was just saying that to appease him. Conversation shifted back to other things as they sat, waiting for their server, and he retained his doubts. But when the primly dressed waiter came by just a minute later, he got his answer.
“...yes, I’ll have the porterhouse, please. Does that come with sides?”
“It can. You may pick two from this section, right here.”
“In that case, I’ll do the—”
It took Makoto a moment to find her order on his copy of the menu, and then another moment to fully grasp the volume of the meal she had just signed up for.
It’s not the price I’m worried about, Fuuka…That’s…a lot of food. That’s like, almost two pounds of meat, and that’s before factoring in the…
“—the garlic potatoes and the broccoli florets.”
Oh, damn.
But…I’m not about to tell her that that’s too much food. That’d just make her self-conscious. How would I know what she can and can’t eat?
…Actually, now that I think about it, I kinda want to see her pack away that much food. Though she’s going to need a box, right? Right?
“Makoto?”
“Uh?”
“Are you going to order?”
Makoto blinked. “Sorry, it was just…I was just looking at your eyes. Got a little distracted.”
The waiter said nothing, but Makoto could feel him internally rolling his eyes behind that customer-service smile. The “lost in your eyes” cliché? Really?
Fuuka, however, just smiled again, in her adorably endearing way.
It’s not…
I’m just…
…God, she is really pretty.
“Ahem. Your order, sir?”
---
Though the sun had set behind the skyline, Fuuka felt a midsummer warmth blooming within her as the night went on. This date was absolutely splendid. The food was extraordinary, even beyond what she might’ve expected from an establishment of this caliber. Makoto made her feel comfortable and cozy, and more than once he’d made her laugh so hard, it turned the heads of the other patrons. And his eyes, his jawline, his shoulders, even the way he kept fiddling with his wrist whenever he got a little nervous…
But nearly two hours in, the first signs of trouble came from her midsection, her body threatening rebellion against the idyllic evening. As quickly as the food vanished down her hungry gullet, it seemed to go through the rest of her just as fast. Fuuka was nursing a stomachache, and not just any stomachache—the kind with a very particular combination of symptoms, with a restless chorus of gurgling and grumbling, a heavy sensation rolling around in every direction, and a steadily mounting pressure building tension against her back door.
She knew she couldn’t hold out forever. One way or another, she needed to make a decision, or it would be made for her.
Holding eye contact, she crossed her legs, leaning ever so slightly to one side. Her hands still on her lap, her fingers fidgeted with the pleats of her dress as her upper body maintained its poise to the best of her ability, raising as little suspicion as possible. All the while, her lower half was shifting into position, preoccupied with the burgeoning weight in her gut. She felt her buttocks parting, with just enough room for the inevitable, and she prayed that it wouldn’t be loud.
Damn…this is a long one…
For at least five full seconds, an inaudible yet definitely palpable stream of formidable heat blew out of her delicate rear. She could feel the heat spread through the whole back surface of her panties, barely getting any filtration out of the sheer material before dissipating into the open space. And the instant she felt it end, it hit her nose.
Ouff, that’s stronger than I thought.
The harsh, pungent odor snuck into her nostrils with an intensely meaty weight to it. Barely perceptible at first, she caught a passing whiff and thought she was in the clear, before the next few breaths caught up to her. Little by little, the smell occupied more of her nose and attention, burgeoning into a pesky sensation that was hard to ignore.
Has he noticed? Has anyone noticed…?
Makoto was still telling a story, though she sensed it was nearing its end. The stray pollutant from her rear seemed not to have reached him, thankfully. If there was any sign or indication that anyone else around her had noticed the sudden intrusion of her gut stink into the lavish atmosphere, she could find none. The idle chatter and clatter of the restaurant seemed to continue at its normal pace. Even now, the foul smell of her own fart had fallen beneath the other, more pleasant aromas of numerous high-class meals. Someone behind her coughed once, but she didn’t know if that was a coincidence. She wasn’t going to turn around to check.
It’s a big restaurant…So hopefully I can get away with at least a few more?
“…Well, what about you? You never did tell me what you got up to after we…”
And now that it was her turn to talk, she had some delicate multitasking ahead. Above the table, she was doing her best to keep her smile steady, her eyes level with his. She had to answer his question, trying to maintain the conversation without raising suspicion. Meanwhile, below the table, her stomach sent low rumbles throughout her body, much like the rolling clouds before a thunderstorm. The tight, aching sensation in her lower belly intensified. Her legs still crossed, she felt her left cheek lift up from the seat again, finding just the right angle that no one would suspect what she was about to do. Carefully, she again pushed out the gas with just the right amount of force—enough to let it go, but withholding it from blowing too powerfully and making a crude noise.
Another silent plume of toxic heat spewed out of her bottom, this one shorter than the first. It was not as relieving, and the time bomb in her gut was still ticking. But there was no reaction from her surroundings, and that gave her a little more confidence. Legs still crossed at a strategic angle, she loosened two more little hissers, bathing her chair in a venomous stench.
Oh, that’s better…
All the while, she had to keep up her pristine date-night appearance, coming up with things to say about how she’d been keeping busy. Her attention shifted to the conversation, now that the gas was flowing more comfortably out of her. Something about her underwear and this particular seated position helped keep her gassy releases nearly imperceptible…at least, to the ear.
Midway through yet another fart, someone else coughed.
Huh…
As she finished off this lengthy release, feeling the last of the heat seep out of her underwear, she heard them cough again, followed by a modest groan of disgust. Then, a different cough, off to her left. A woman at a booth in front of her put a finger to her nose, wrinkling her brow.
Already? That was only three…I feel like I could churn out another three hundred.
Facial expression still frozen as best as she could, she was just staring at Makoto’s nose in a neutral gaze, barely listening to whatever he was saying and nodding along whenever it felt right. Her mind was racing, and she could feel dewdrops of sweat forming along the edge of her forehead. Little tendrils of stink began to sneak around her, curling around her nose and trickling into her senses, forcing her to reckon with the vile stench of her own making.
Ohh, fuck, okay, that’s…that’s real pungent.
Someone else coughed behind her, then muttered something. It didn’t sound nice.
Fuuka clenched her sphincter tight, but then realized that might only make things worse. She was never going to be able to hold it all in, not for more than a few minutes. Controlling the pressure and keeping things as silent as possible was better than fighting an impossible battle against her intestines and exploding in shame. The fumes in her gut begged for release, and she just couldn’t help herself.
It…feels too good…
Her stomach was still gurgling with a sinister tremor riding through her body. She reached for her drink, taking a careful sip in the hopes that it would help tame the ferocious beast wriggling around inside her. It did not.
The woman at the booth in front of her was looking around, swiveling her head from side to side. A look of grotesque disdain was fixed on her face.
Okay, this might be a problem.
Finally, Makoto pierced the veil, choking a little on his words as the smell finally seemed to be overpowering enough to be ignored. “Ugh, I’m sorry, but…You smell that too, right?”
Fuuka froze, sphincter and all, her whole body completely still. The other half of her last abbreviated fart momentarily disappeared up further inside her. Her eyes shot wide open for just a split second, before she caught herself and found her composure again. She wrinkled her nose, finding very real disgust in the sheer potency of the stink now hovering thin around their table, acting as a victim and not the perpetrator.
“Uh, yeah. I…I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything. It…Yeah, it smells pretty bad in here.”
“No, no, that’s…Yeah, I was just going to suggest that, you know, if we’re both done with our food, I think it’s best for us to get out of here sooner rather than later. If you want.” He cleared his throat, something clearly pestering his lungs. “I love talking to you, and this has been great, but…given the circumstances…”
“No, you’re right. Although, I’m so sorry to make you stay any longer, but…I do need to use the restroom before we go. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll have to get the check, anyway.”
“Oh, uh, thanks…”
Under different circumstances, she might have argued a little, done some back-and-forth about how they should at least go dutch on the meal, even though she would ultimately relent and let him pay for their date. But the situation in her belly was getting more unstable by the second. She couldn’t handle much more risk. As she got up, the woman at the booth had flagged down a waiter, gesticulating around as she made some sort of complaint. She didn’t need to stick around to know what it was.
Is that too incriminating? Do people suspect me now, if I get up to use the bathroom?
She thought for only a moment, before deciding that this was the less-worse option. The alternative…She dared not imagine how bad things could get if she didn’t get to a toilet within the next minute.
Each step from the table to the restroom felt delicate. There was the ever-present risk of sudden pressure against her intestines that could destabilize its contents at any minute. Trying her best to keep her poise without looking like she was getting desperate, Fuuka made her way to the bathrooms, nestled in the back of the restaurant. Like the dining area, this part of the establishment was lavishly decorated, with polished tiles forming a glossy mosaic of cascading violets and blues. She pulled open the door labeled “WOMEN” in modest serif lettering, trying to retain some dignity yet very much in a hurry to unload.
Two stalls, both unoccupied. Good. She’d just have to hope that no one else came in. She picked the one further from the door, locked it shut, placed her handbag on the toilet-paper holder, and sat on the cold porcelain. No time to wipe it down, no time to adjust her dress to avoid making a mess—the sloppy chaos in her gut was not waiting for her to get comfortable.
Rather quickly, she became familiar with a certain biological hierarchy to her bodily functions. Even if she wasn’t aware of it before, there was a heavy solid load in her gut, which was probably why her farts smelled downright atrocious. Now that she was able to fully relax, her bowels took over, emptying themselves of a dense, damp, and heavy chain of lumpy shit.
sssSSSSsssttthloop-sssssskKKkkKkksh—PVRRROOURRRP—RRRrrrssskhh-SPLOPSssskkll—FFRRHHSSSssssss…
Between lumps of slick solids, Fuuka’s shithole was hissing and groaning with excess gas leaking out at every opportunity. A steaming, almost slurry-like poop made its way out of her, initially slow and shy but soon escalating to minor explosions as her farts helped propel the mass through her digestive tract. The relief of wet girthy slop plunging through her sphincter was enough to make her moan softly, and the porcelain beneath her continued to take a battering of deathly stench, now taking both solid and gaseous form.
Once several thick brown torpedoes had been deposited into the toilet bowl, the next call came from the bladder. Things were really shifting around in her abdomen, and with much of the heaviest load gone, all of that remaining urine had sank down into position. Able to relax a little more, Fuuka loosened a stream of warm piss, and she could feel her entire bladder slowly and steadily deflate. A calming warmth started from between her thighs and spread over her, almost causing her to blush from the relieving sensation. She felt a bit more at ease when the heavy stream finally trickled to a stop.
And then, and only then, after relieving her solid and liquid needs, did she feel comfortable in straining to loosen some gas. She was still extremely bloated, feeling something fierce storming around her entire gut, the whole way from her stomach to her colon. Her intestines were cooking up so much vile gas, and now she didn’t have to resort to little leaks. She could push and strain freely to work it out. The toilet beneath her became a resonating amplifier for the glorious sounds of her bowels. It only took a little coaxing for the fanfare to begin.
pppPRRRrppprsSSPPBBB-BPPRBRppPPRrr-RRPPBRPRLPPRT
pprrppbbbBBBRRRPPP
PRRPBBRRRRRRT
PHHHFFRRBbbpppbbrrrrrt
BBLLLAAAAUUUUURRRRrrrrrrrrppprrrr-pprrrrooouurrpprrt
Taking advantage of the privacy, Fuuka immediately slammed five hefty farts into the porcelain. On the first one, she was clearly still spewing mostly-solid chunks from her back end, the forceful gas helping to expel the last little bits of shit still remaining at the end of her colon while splatters of brown decorated the back end of the bowl. The next three were crisp brassy horn calls, audibly “cleaned up” from the first; then the last quickly descended into a sinister bubbling for the last few seconds, signaling a stench even worse than before, like the poison fumes from a putrid swamp. These farts sounded firm and heavy, too, like they had some serious mass to them as they punched into the toilet, somehow more powerful than the passive plop-thlops of the actual solids she’d unloaded.
A half-sigh, half-moan flew from her lips, finally feeling a bit of real relief from her overbloated gassy gut. The air was heavy with stink, amplified by the full toilet beneath her, emanating with the smell of digestive decay that filled the room. For a moment, the blood rushed out of her head, and she could hear the muffled sounds of the restaurant. The clinking of dinnerware, the blur of conversations…it might as well have been on a different planet. It didn’t feel real. What felt real was the monumental sensation of emptying out her turbulent gut.
But the reprieve was temporary. Almost immediately, more gas swelled up inside her, replacing the gas she was expelling at a menacing pace. She clutched her sides and lurched forward, pressing her crossed arms into her abdomen and loosening another burst of raunchy cannon blasts into the porcelain, followed by a mind-numbingly relieving SBD.
PPHAAAARRRRRRRRRUUUUMMMMMMMMPPPPRRRT
PPRRRRRRBBRRBBRRRRRRPPT
BBBBVBBBVBBVBBBBVVRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUMMMmmmmmmbbbbrrrrpprrpplppprt
PPPHHFFrrrrrrRRRRRrrrrrrrrsssssssssssssssssssssrrppppbbpprrsssssssss…
Fuuka’s mouth hung open in a silent moan while sheer fire hissed from her ass, sputtering into near-silence on the last fart. Though it settled into near-silence, she could still feel it streaming out through her bottom end. It was hard to believe just how much had been pent-up inside her. This fart just kept going and going, the sensation of rushing heat pouring out of her at a steady rate, like she had pulled the drain stopper on a full bathtub. There was no palpable change in pressure in her stomach, still heavy and taut with ample gas. The term “gas leak” had never felt more applicable to her own biology.
Oh, fuck, that’s even stronger than I thought…
An absolutely putrid odor stirred in her own nostrils as she came to realize the full potency of what she was dumping into the restroom. No amount of deodorizer could rescue this place any longer. But she was powerless against the pressure in her gut pushing an eternal SBD through her parted cheeks, and the stunning relief she was feeling didn’t make her want to quit, either. The steaming-hot fart kept flowing out of her with no sign of slowing down any time soon.
OOOOOUUWWWRRRRRP
While her jaw still hung open, a short, punchy burp came out, venting a little extra gas off the top while her bottom end was still fumigating. Gassy from both ends—she was going to have a hard time closing out this date with any grace.
Finally, the gas from her ass tapered off, long after the bathroom was gag-inducingly uninhabitable. A heavy sigh fluttered from her lips. She grinned with unfocused eyes, enjoying the sensation of a slightly-less-desperate gut. Fuuka started to wave her hand around in front of her, before quickly giving up against the behemoth she had just released. There was nothing she could do against this beast.
I definitely can’t stay here much longer, not after that. I can’t let anyone know that was me…
On the other hand, her stomach was still full, practically vibrating from the low grumbles that kept generating more and more gas. Taking a deep, sewage-tainted breath through her mouth, she stifled a gag at her own defilement and braced herself for one more gassy push.
Maybe just a little more…
She needed to make the most of her alone time and leave herself leeway for the rest of the date. Her hands pressed against the stall walls on either side, her delicately painted sea-green nails twinkling with a sort of elegance and beauty that the rest of her was definitely not matching right now. Bending forward again, this time she could feel a force pushing on both ends.
BWOOOOOOOOUUUUUUWWWWRRRRRP
PPRFFRRrrr-pprrrrpprrrRRRPFFRRFFffffrr-rrrrRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAUURRRGrrgrrrgrrllfrfrrrppppbbpbppt
A fluctuating droning sound sent shockwaves into the toilet below her, like three different farts were competing to escape through her superheated asshole at the same time. From her other end, more excess gas erupted like a volcano, blowing her lips apart and nearly locking her jaw as a meaty burp flew out. Her tongue flopped out in sensational relief, ready to do that again, but the sound of the nearby men’s room door swinging closed jolted her back to reality.
Okay…I think I actually have to pack this up and get going now…before someone else has to come in here and finds out that I’m the one poisoning the restaurant.
---
When Fuuka returned to the table, Makoto met her eyes with a twinkle of concern. At first, she thought he might have figured it out, and was concerned about her rancid tummy ache. But then he gestured outside.
“Did you walk here?”
“...Yeah.”
“Let me give you a ride back to the dorms. I just checked and I think it’s going to rain soon.”
“…Okay. Um, thank you for your concern.”
“Of course! I’m not just going to let you get drenched, especially in that gorgeous outfit.”
They made their way out of the restaurant. Relieving herself seemed to help a little. Maybe the extra weight of a full bladder was pushing on the rest of her guts, including her very gas-filled colon. The pounding against her backdoor was now just a dull pressure. No doubt that was soon to change, but she was just happy to have bought herself some time, especially now that she was going to be in a car with him a little while longer.
An ominous volume of gas was still cooking up inside her. While she was on her feet, walking beside him to the car, most of her bloating seemed to come in the form of burps; she did her best to cloak them in silent, closed-mouth releases, letting small eruptions rumble against her cheeks with an almost imperceptible noise. Makoto seemed not to notice her irregular “breathing” pace, and was instead trying his best to make small talk.
Between conversations, in a moment of silence, a roar of thunder boomed overhead.
“Ooh…this storm is coming fast.” Makoto looked back at her with a reassuring smile before starting to walk a little faster. “Come on.”
Fuuka did her best to keep up while her own thunder was brewing within, jostling with every footstep. You have no idea how fast this storm’s coming, too…
Sure enough, even as they were getting into Makoto’s car, they could feel a drizzle coming on. The clouds looked ominously dark in the horizon as drops of rain speckled the windshield. A flash of lightning streaked across the evening sky.
Makoto must have sensed her worry. “Hey, it’s fine. I always keep a spare umbrella in here. I’ll walk you to the entrance and everything.”
But truth be told, that wasn’t why Fuuka was uneasy. The tempest was still very much brewing in her gut, straining against the walls of her engorged intestines as the hefty, rich dinner was slowly getting digested and processed into even more gas. And in an enclosed space like this, with Makoto right next to her, she could not afford even the tiniest slip. Her fetid ass funk could escape at any moment, with one wrong bump in the road, and even a small dose of her pent-up farts would definitely be noticeably rancid.
By some miracle, though, she kept her seal tight and firm for the entire ride back to campus. It wasn’t easy to keep her mind focused on anything other than her bubbling cauldron, but she managed. The extra room she’d made by dumping a few dozen meaty farts (and plenty of dense solid slop) into the toilet had really helped; if not for that, she would have burst into gassy embarrassment before they got halfway. She even parried one of Makoto’s remarks with a sneaky joke that got him laughing. Volatile guts aside, this was a really fun night out with a very charming young man, and her face was feeling particularly warm.
If it weren’t for the nuke in my stomach, I swear, Makoto, the things I’d ask you to do to me tonight…
She was torn as they pulled up to her dorm. On one hand, she didn’t want the wonderful night with Makoto to end. But on the other hand, the fuse on her gut bomb was running short, and she needed some private airspace, ASAP.
Her mind and body tore at each other, with competing desires clawing at her willpower. The car rolled to a stop. The raindrops faded into white noise.
Makoto turned to her, eyes full of an eagerness she’d rarely seen. She thought she saw them glance down at her lips for an instant. The air felt electric.
Do it. Come on. Kiss me.
But her stomach roiled in revolt as she locked eyes with him, as if determined to get the last word. A massive wave of something lurched around in there, sending a brief shock through her abdomen and up her spine. Despite her attempts to hold onto the moment, something must have shifted in her expression. Makoto suddenly pulled away, sensing that something was wrong, but not sure what. The charge in the air between them dissipated.
No…!
“...Good night, Fuuka. This was really fun.”
Dammit. She bit her lip.
“Yeah…Let’s do it again some time?”
His smile grew wider. “Absolutely.”
And just like that, a decision was made, regardless of what she wanted. The date was over. A wonderful date, one that could have gone horribly wrong if she hadn’t used the restroom at an opportune time, one that she wished could go on through the night if it wasn’t for her stupid bowels and the beckoning call of her own private toilet. Resigned, she put a hand on her belly. It was still quite palpably churning.
Opening his umbrella, Makoto stepped out of his side of the car and into the pouring rain. Fuuka watched as Makoto crossed the front of the car, heading over to her side, and was immediately stopped by a raincoated security officer.
Ugh, what now?
She wasn’t able to hear anything through the heavy pounding of raindrops, but the expressions and gesticulating made it pretty clear that he was telling Makoto to park elsewhere.
He’s just dropping me off, asshole…Leave him alone and let me get home…
Another surge of angry gas sent vibrations all throughout her midsection, warning her of an impending explosion. She rubbed her stomach, hoping to stabilize its contents for just a few minutes longer. For a moment, she contemplated stepping out into the pouring rain just so she could let this one go. But there was no guarantee that Makoto or the guard wouldn’t hear it, and she really didn’t want to get this dress (and herself) soaking wet.
Through the abstract mirage of water that was cascading over the windshield and its futile wipers, she could do nothing but watch as the two men were still engaged in a heated conversation. This had to be more than just a parking dispute; why else would it be taking so long?
Her hand found itself against the car door. Five cyan painted nails quivered in place, pressing against the door’s surface while the rest of her body was embroiled in a fierce battle for control over her sphincter. The other five were desperately pressing in and out of her abdomen, to no avail.
It was hopeless. The beast was stirring awake, and massaging it back to sleep was never going to work. If anything, she might have been making it worse.
…ggwroouurrRGGRBRGBWRRrvvrrgrRRggrRRRRLL…
Another surge, this time powerful enough to make her double over, wide-eyed. This one was audible even over the thump-thump machine-gunning of rain on the metal roof of the car. Along with it came a sharp stabbing sensation in her lower left, jabbing her with an urgent need to relieve a whole lot of pressure very quickly.
…mmnngh, shit, shit, shit!
It felt like someone had thrown a brick at her gut. Her sphincter quivered for the thousandth time that night, and she knew that she didn’t have a choice anymore. The inevitable was here.
ffffwwpprrwwweeeeeeeeeeeuuurrrrRRRrrbBBBbbBBBBBBRRRRRRPPRRRrrrroppprrrpbbbpprrrrrroooooouuuuuuurrrrrppllppplpllpppllplppplppprrrRRRRPPBRRPRPPRRRBBVVRRBBRRRT
After keeping such a tight seal on it for so long, it was genuinely hard to tell whether she was letting go of this thing, or if it was escaping her clutches. With her brows furrowed, eyes squinting, and hand pushing firmly against the car door, Fuuka relaxed her bottom end just a little bit, straining to retain some level of control. She didn’t want to be explosively depressurizing her guts all at once.
Almost instantly, through her struggling bowels came a stream of familiar heat. It began with a peculiar, almost whistle-like sound for several seconds through her carefully clenched asshole, before the rush of gas suddenly tripled in volume and exploded into a bubbly rumble. Pressing into her seat, the sound was muffled somewhat, but the sheer power of this fart was more than enough to rattle her whole body with a fierce ripping noise.
For one long glorious moment, she relished in the sensation. A knot in her stomach had finally come undone. To fight this beast for so long, and finally let it free—under very different circumstances, she might have moaned a little, and kept going. There was so much more where that came from.
But the horrendous stench would not dare let her forget where she was. An acrid stink, sharp and putrid, snapped her back into reality. The entire car interior was bathed in the warm stench of her colon.
Fuck, that is absolutely nasty.
No time to lose. Fuuka unzipped the small handbag in her lap and began rifling through its contents, hoping she had something to work with. Dispersing this awful smell wasn’t an option, so the next best option was to try to cover it up. But she was coming up empty-handed.
Perfume? Sanitizer? Lotion?? Anything???
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Stray raindrops spattered at her bare legs. A rush of cold air slapped her in the face. Makoto leaned down towards her, umbrella overhead doing its best against a torrential downpour.
“Hey, sorry about the—”
He stopped. His eyes widened.
And in an instant, a dozen fleeting emotions flashed across his face. A bit of plain disgust, a hint of sheer astonishment; the reeling of respiratory distress as this poison rolled through his nose, and the bolt of retrospective recognition of the mystery smell from the restaurant. And then there was something…else.
The two stayed stock-still for a moment, staring wide-eyed at each other, not a clue what to do or say. Fuuka could feel her entire head, from her ears to her collarbones, burning red-hot out of terrifying embarrassment.
In three seconds, a shameful eternity passed. Then Makoto cleared his throat.
“Uhm, come on. Let’s, uh…let’s get you home.”
Fuuka stared at her shoes as he helped her out of the car, unable to make eye contact any longer. Shame had set her upper half aflame. The careful pedicure peeking out from the front of her heels, with all ten nails painted and polished a glossy bright shade of sea foam, were drenched. Her feet were soaked through to the bone, but she could barely feel the ice-cold rainwater. Even the swirling, bloated mess of intense gas in her gut was imperceptible now.
No words coalesced in her mind, only despondence. She felt hollow. She just clung to Makoto’s arm, sheltered from the rain but not from her own embarrassment. With one sopping step after the other, they reached the entryway of the dorm building.
They remained silent for a painful few seconds, but then he breached it first.
“…I have a question. And I need you to be honest with me.”
Fuuka nodded, still staring at her shoes, now forming a puddle on the tile floor.
“Did you really have a good time tonight? Was this a…good date?”
She blinked. “Yes. Yes, I really did.”
“You’re not just saying that? You mean that?”
Is this really the time for validation, Makoto? Isn’t this the part where you leave without a kiss, and we never speak of this again, and I make you promise not to tell anyone what I just did to your car?
Fuuka finally glanced up at him, baffled more than anything else. “...Yes.”
Makoto took a moment before responding. “How do I say this…politely? I just wanted to make sure that, uh…”
“Listen, I really did enjoy my time with you tonight. I did.“ Fuuka cut him off, trying to save both of them the embarrassment of prolonging where she thought this conversation was going. She stopped herself before she could ramble, trying to compose her thoughts. “You were great, and I wish we could do this again. But I…And I’m sorry that…that just happened, and that now you have to drive back in that car. And I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”
“No, don’t apologize,” Makoto said, taking her avalanche of words in stride. “It’s just…a bodily function. No harm in it. If anything, I’m relieved that it happened.”
Fuuka wasn’t sure she heard correctly. “Relieved?”
“…Yeah. See, this whole night, I thought I had fucked it up. I felt like you were giving mixed signals. I was so confused. Things started out great, I felt like we had great chemistry, but then partway through, back at the restaurant, I made some joke about your dad, I think, and your face turned sour. And after that, you felt a little distant, pulling away a little. But you still seemed really interested and everything. I had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t get a good read.”
Fuuka stared at him. An irritatingly familiar sensation pierced her in the abdomen again, which she managed to fend off. “I don’t even remember the joke.”
“It was right before the waiter came to offer us the dessert menu.”
“Oh, uh…” Fuuka thought back for a moment. It felt like so long ago, despite being only an hour or two earlier that same evening.
“It’s fine. If you don’t remember, all the better. Immediately after I said it, I felt bad. So I won’t repeat it. Anyways, I thought I had ruined my chance with you after that. But you say you don’t even remember it. So now I’m wondering if that was when you started to…” He glanced down at her midsection. “…feel a stomachache coming on.”
Fuuka stared at him. “Huh. I think so?” She shook her head, squinting and holding her temples. “W-wait, back up. You’re not going to say anything more about…you know…”
“What else is there to say? Other than, ‘oh, now I think I understand why you seemed a little off for the second half of our date, and I’m really hoping I’m right?’”
A wave of emotions nearly took Fuuka off her feet. Most of these feelings were inscrutable; there was something like relief, or maybe comfort. There was a bit of denial and disbelief, but also, there was hope.
She sighed. It was a lot all at once. She leaned in for a hug, feeling his soaking-wet sleeves in scattered places where the rain had blown in sideways. He was still for a moment, but quickly wrapped his arms around her bare shoulders.
“Thank you,” she half-whispered into his arm. “Thank you for being so…understanding.”
He gave a little chuckle as he rubbed her chilly arms. “Like I said. Just a bodily function.”
As if the mere mention could trigger another burst, Fuuka winced. Her stomach tensed up, ever reminding her of a very different type of relief that she so desperately needed. Her hands clenched inadvertently, gripping around the sides of his arms, as the threatening rumbles of her volcanic gut surged through her with a hostile vengeance.
“Ooh, that bad, huh?” Makoto said, gently releasing her like a shaken-up soda bottle. “I’m surprised you’ve been able to keep a lid on it all night.”
“Yeah, I—Mngh, fuck!—I…I thought I was doing a pretty good job, but you managed to figure it out.”
“Not really. Like I said, I just felt like I was getting very mixed signals throughout the night.” Makoto paused, a new train of thought visible behind his eyes. “Wait, so was it the same thing in the car, just a few minutes ago, too? When…” He faltered.
“When you were going to lean in for a kiss?” Fuuka filled in the rest, rubbing her stomach with one hand, still a little afraid to stand up straight.
“You picked up on that, huh?”
“Oh, I—if we’re being totally honest with each other now? Right? Yeah, I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted a lot more than—“ She stopped herself short, worried she was going too far.
Evidently, she wasn’t.
“No, no. Keep going. Finish that sentence.”
Now you’re getting real bold, Makoto.
“I…wanted a lot more than a kiss. I didn’t want the night to end, just yet.”
The corner of his lips tugged upward. “Is that still an option?”
Fuuka’s eyes were wide open. “Wait, you still…want to…?”
“I’ve, uh, already gotten to know your body very well tonight, I think,” Makoto said, now with a half-confident smile. “I’d like to explore the rest of it, if that’s something you’d like to indulge in.”
“You’re sure? I–I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m very much on board…I just feel like I should warn you that—”
“That you’re still gassy?” He gestured to her overall posture, which must have been emanating an internal instability of the toxic storm trapped within. “I figured as much.”
Fuuka nodded, her face reddening again. “If you spend any more time with me tonight, your lungs are definitely going to suffer.”
“It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
Is he serious?
“How about…hm, let’s just say, I’m sure I can help you find some positions to work that gas out.”
Oh, he’s serious.
Now that the proposition of sex was back in the realm of possibility, Fuuka’s heart picked back up into a dance. There might have been butterflies in her stomach, but they would not have lasted long in the nauseating, suffocating miasma in there. On one hand, I don’t think you know what you’re signing up for here…you haven’t smelled anything yet. But on the other hand…if you really still want to rail me while I’m this gassy…I do want to know what that cute face looks like when it’s cumming.
“...Sorry. Was that too…uh, too forward?”
Fuuka bit her lip to stifle a grin before responding. “Let’s just say, none of this is how I imagined this night to go. But I’m loving it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She grabbed his hand and led him upstairs.
PART 2
She caught him off-guard with her eagerness. The instant they stepped into her dorm room, she turned around and pressed her lips against his. He was taken aback for an instant, before he embraced it, feeling her warm body and letting his cares melt away. Now that he knew how she felt, he was glad she wasn’t wasting any time. He’d been thinking about it for so long that it just felt right. He returned her passion and vigor with an indulgent kiss that sent him straight off the deep end, plunging him into satisfaction of the highest form, filling a chasm of yearning he didn’t even realize he had been harboring.
As they caressed each other with their lips locked and tongues beginning to dance around each other, his mind wandered into its own fantastical delights. His underpants were feeling exceptionally tight.
Driven by a mutual hunger, they pulled each other tighter, and he felt his belt buckle—along with something else particularly hard—press into her. Her volatile stomach palpably lurched in response, and she immediately pulled back.
Makoto tried to give her a comforting smile, picking up on the cues of her body language. “It’s okay. Go ahead. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, either…”
“Stop worrying about me. You’re only delaying the inevitable, anyway.”
He thought back to the brief whiff he had caught when he was helping her out of the car. It was…certainly something. The rotten, almost poisonous smell had firmly planted itself into his memory like a burning brand. A profusely sulfuric and sharply acrid smell, laced with a swampy garbage-like miasma and all the markings of some high-protein intestinal devastation. He glanced behind her, making note of the fact that there was only one window in here, the kind that only opened halfway to comply with arbitrary dorm safety regulations.
But a foul smell could hardly taint his desires, especially by this point in the evening. Impure thoughts riddled his mind as he stood in her bedroom, laden with anticipation. They were going to make love to finish out this wonderful night, with or without a room full of stink.
He braced himself internally, steeling his will against the oncoming stench. But it didn’t come. She had suppressed it one more time, and instead now she re-planted her mouth on his, pinning him against the door with her whole body. He sensed she was easing her weight against him slowly and steadily to make sure her stomach wasn’t going to riot again. The unmistakable hard bulge in his pants was still there, and would press into her stormy gut the same way a second time.
It’ll happen when she needs it to happen. No sense in pressuring her into farting…though I do hope she gives me a heads-up.
Makoto savored the taste of her lips for another slice of forever before she pulled away, her eyes piercing his. Surprising him with her eagerness again, she reached down with one hand, feeling his firm, pulsating member along his inner thigh. “God, you’re rock hard…”
Makoto gave a little closed-mouth moan. “Yeah…”
Still gazing into his eyes, she reached down next to his hip and turned the latch, locking the door. “Come on. Let me help you out of those soaking wet clothes.”
He shuddered. There was something so seductive and irresistible about the way she said that. He could feel himself melting.
Slow and methodical, she then put her hands on his chest, caressing him before bringing them up around the shoulders underneath his suit jacket. Following along, he put his arms back, one after the other, letting her help him out of his stiff, soaked outer layer.
As soon as it hit the floor, Makoto pulled her in for another long, passionate kiss, careful not to disturb her midsection. He had one hand on her waist and the other around the back of her neck; her hands wrapped around the back of his head, pulling so tightly into each others’ gravitational field like they were trying to enlace their very souls.
The whole world seemed to melt away. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they finally let go, but he knew what question had to come next.
“Can we take this to the bed?”
Fuuka nodded, breathless, her eyes hungry. She turned to lead him towards the bed, stopping only to bend down and remove her shoes. Along with the brief sensual sight of her supple thighs, Makoto caught a glimpse of her underwear, peeking beneath the cheeky curtains of her dress. He couldn’t tell if she was doing that on purpose, but he silently appreciated the view. Lewd thoughts of her cute, perky butt trickled into his brain, only slightly tinged with the acknowledgement that this was also the source of her nauseating exhaust.
“Help me unzip this dress?”
Makoto’s fingers were clumsy, but he managed. The dress fell away, and Fuuka was left in a matching pair of lacy gray bra and panties. He started to unbutton his shirt, which was considerably more difficult, as it was so soaked from the rain that it clung to his skin. By the time he got to unbuckling his belt, she was lying on the bed awaiting him with a gaze in her eye that could eat him alive. Her delicately manicured fingers began playing with her covered breast before suddenly sliding down to her belly, where a particularly loud groaning noise caught both their attention.
“You sure you still—”
Makoto cut her off. “Fuuka, I’m literally taking my dick out. You don’t get to kiss me and grope me and tease me like that and then ask me if I still want it.”
“Well, all I’m going to say is, it’s going to smell a lot worse in here very soon.”
“I’m not going to tell you again. Just do what you gotta do.”
Now in just his briefs, Makoto got into bed next to Fuuka, again careful not to disturb her grumbling belly. He closed his eyes as they locked lips, his hand stroking her collarbone, feeling her fingers caress his bare chest and drift towards his beltline. Her touch was like lightning coursing through his veins, and the thunderclap of his urges just kept ringing. Goosebumps rose up along his entire body as he savored it. His chest was burning up. It all felt like a key slotting perfectly into a lock, two becoming one, their mutual hunger and desire melding into a singular consummate yearning that drove them deeper into their passionate entanglement.
The flames momentarily simmered away as Fuuka broke away first, her hand still on his waist, lightly thumbing at the waistband of his underwear.
“You have a condom, right?”
“Yeah. Wait, let me—” Makoto shook off his thirst for a moment, trying not to get too lost in her eyes again, like he did at the restaurant more than once. He took a brief reprieve to climb down off of her, fishing around in the pockets of his discarded pants on the floor. While he was preoccupied with finding a condom, he heard her groan softly, then another distinctive sound that he’d been anticipating.
“Ooounngh…”
ppphbbprrrrrbrppbbbrrbrrrppbrrwwoouueeeeeerrrt
A quiet, bubbly fart sounded like it leaked out of her asshole. He did his best to pretend he didn’t hear it, which was easy for now, considering his back was turned to the bed. He continued on digging through his pocket when the second wave hit.
ppbppbbBRRRPPBRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUWWWRRRRRRRRPPRRLLLLPPRT
It started like the first, but Makoto could practically hear her losing control of her asshole within the first two seconds. The sheer amount of gas in her bowels must have pushed out against her will, as if she was hoping to keep her releases on the smaller side, but lost the fight against the backed-up pressure. A cloud of heat billowed around his hair and covered the back of his neck like a warm pillow.
Jesus Fucking Christ…
Midway through this one, the stench had hit his nostrils, and he almost lost his composure. It was precisely the same smell that he’d witnessed earlier, exactly the way he remembered it. It filled his nose and mouth with surprising efficiency, and he completely lost his train of thought for a second, utterly destabilized by his brain insisting that he had just been poisoned.
“I’m sorry…” she said, her voice like glass. “We should open the window…”
Makoto rose. He turned to find her face red as a tomato, partially covered by her shy hands. Recovering his stride, he removed his underwear and started to open the condom package. “It’s still pouring outside,” he said, trying to wrestle back control over his breaths. “Half your room’s going to get drenched.”
“You don’t have to be nice, Makoto. Be honest. That smells awful.”
“I didn’t say it smells like roses. But it’s not going to bother me.”
Even as he said it, he felt more confident in its truth. Breathing the tainted air was getting easier with each breath. His brain was overriding the whole concept of “disgust” at the sight of his beautiful date in underwear, her body on full display. He was naked in her room with an unwrapped condom in his hand. A mutual vulnerability.
She stared at him with those big eyes, seemingly incredulous. Then they followed his hands down to his bare member as he wrapped it.
“Come on,” Makoto said, emboldened. “Let me help you get those off.”
Now that she’d already let loose, Fuuka’s gassy sphincter seemed much less uptight about the whole ordeal. As Makoto stripped away her lacy underwear, several near-silent puffs of hot, foul gas came from her ass. The cloud of fumes around his head grew stronger, and he had to fight down the urge to cough. Her face still burned red, and he felt determined to alleviate her embarrassment.
He gently parted her legs, glancing up at her with a roguish smile. His lips came down on her hip, decorating it with kisses, and immediately he could feel the surging power of a monstrous gut-bomb on the other side of her skin. This close to the source, the vibrations from its constant rumbling were formidable. But he was undeterred. His fingers found her lips, moist with expectation.
“Mnnhhhhh…Are you—mmnh—are you sure you want to…want to be—mmngh—to be down there…?”
He responded by moving his mouth closer to her clit, eyes still firmly directed at hers.
“I…oooohhh…I feel like I’m gonna—”
He flicked out his tongue.
“Mmmnghhh—!”
PRRRRBBROOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRRRMMBBBRPPRRRPPT
A plume of dense, thick heat plunged past his chin and punched him in the throat. His nostrils sucked up the bulk of it, subjecting him to another toxic whirlwind that reeked of hot garbage.
But at the same time, there was something irresistible about the way his tongue was able to draw out such crude noises from her. It felt like she was yielding to him, succumbing to his efforts. He dabbed out his tongue again, licking at a careful pace. He could feel her whole lower body tense up before the next release.
ppppbbpbpbBRRRRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOUUUUUUURRRRR-PPBPBB-BRRRP-PBBBRRP-BLLRRRRP!–BRPRLLRPRPPRRRRrrrrrrrmpbbbrrrssssssRRRPPPPPBRRPRLLPPRRT
It felt like six separate farts had chained together into one, blowing out in time to the rhythm of his oral delivery. When it sounded like it was just about to wane, Makoto evidently hit the right spot as her stomach tightened and another deluge of steamy, putrid fumes poured out of her puckering asshole. With his tongue occupied, he had no choice but to continue breathing through his nose, which was proving more difficult with each second. His eyes were definitely watering a little, not enough to cloud his vision of her beet-red face between her supple breasts, but enough to be able to tell that the air quality around his head was downright deplorable. The twisted, desecrated aftermath of the very same meat and potatoes he had urged her to order several hours earlier were coming back to haunt him.
Fuuka’s hand came down to his head, giving him a small but firm push to signal him to come up.
Did I do something wrong?
“Haah…Okay, Makoto…Now it’s your turn to be honest with me.”
“Uh-huh?”
Fuuka took another moment to catch her breath, which was probably limited by the sudden drop in oxygen levels in the room. “Are you…you know…Are you into this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have a fart kink?”
He gave a little laugh, then answered right away, giving away the answer that was already in his heart. “I-I don’t know. All I know is that I really want to fuck you, and a little gas isn’t going to stop me.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot. Whatever. It’s kinda hot, if I’m being honest. If this is a thing I’m into, I didn’t know before today. It’s like—I don’t know, it’s kinda like squirting? I like seeing you lose control a bit. I like seeing you lose your inhibitions. I like seeing you get comfortable.”
He said it all in one breath. The silence that followed made it even harder for him to breathe.Fuuka seemed to be weighing this confession.
I don’t know if any of that made sense. I don’t even know how much I know about my preferences at this point. But I swear, Fuuka, I really mean it when I say, I really, really fucking want you.
“Okay,” she said finally.
“Okay? Just okay?”
“Okay.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up towards her chest, almost making him lose his balance. “I don’t need you to suffer down there any longer.”
“Hey, it’s not—”
He stopped mid-thought as he felt her ankles wrap around his waist. Her eyes were pleading with him.
“I need you inside me.”
Fuck, that’s hot.
“...Okay.”
The next minutes were a blur of bare skin and raw sensuality. It was like he had blacked out and all of a sudden he was clutching her right hand with his left, her dainty blue-green nails glinting at the ends of her clasped fingers while he thrusted into her, a growing cloud of post-dinner fart stink hanging between them. His mind was barely holding onto this world, and he could only bring himself back to reality by focusing on his senses. Her pussy was squelching wet. Her other hand fondled her breast, manicured nails working at her erect nipple. Her ocean-deep eyes hypnotized him like a devilish succubus, begging him for more…and he was more than happy to oblige.
“Mmngh…You feel…amazing…”
BRRPFFFFRRRRRRBRRHHHT–
“Ah-aah…”
He plunged in slow and deep, finding a salacious delight in the way her eyes lost focus and drifted back into her skull, overtaken by pleasure. His balls churned as they slapped against her, and he could see her arousal dripping around the edges of his cock.
PPBRRSSSPBPRRT–PPBRRRRBPPRT–BBBRRRRAAARRP–PPFFRRSSSBBRT–
With almost every thrust, a sputtering cloud of heinous fumes spewed out of her bowels. Waves of intestinal heat tickled at his legs and his nethers. Tinged with the juices of her throbbing pussy, the sounds were sloppier than before, much more evocative and crude. It all felt so raw, so primal. Makoto’s lungs were definitely suffering, as she’d warned him plenty of times—but he just didn’t care anymore. The whole room was full of Fuuka’s vile fumes, trying to slowly suffocate him, but all it was doing was getting him high, intensifying the sexual pleasure of the entire experience.
“Ah…Hnnaahh…!”
“Fuck, you’re so hot…This is so hot…”
“Haahhh…You sure…you don’t have a kink?”
Makoto replied with a breathy laugh before greedily driving even deeper into her. Feeling himself fill her up, right to the edge of her cervix, while the smile melted off of her face and was replaced by a lengthy moan with fluttering eyelids, was mind-shattering. He could live in this moment forever.
“Gnnhh—wait-wait-wait!”
“Huh?”
“Pull out for a sec…”
Makoto slid back out of her extremely wet pussy. He looked confused, but only for a second, before Fuuka gave him a simple command.
“Hold your breath.”
Oh, way too late for that…
ppppPPFFRRrrhrpphhbbbrrppPRRRRBRRPBPBRRLPRPRBPBLRPRRrrrrrpprrppPBPRRBBBBRRRRRRRRPPRRBBBBBRRPRPRRPRRRRR—
“Oohhhhh–ffffffuuck…!”
—RPPBBBBBRRPRPRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUURR-RRRPPBRRPRBPRRR-PPRRLLGRRRGRRRGRRRP-PLPBBPRRPBPBRR-R-RP-PR-PRR-PRRR-RRPPPPBPPBBBBBPPT
A truly monumental fart roared out of her, dampened slightly by the blend of sweat and other horny juices around her exit. Makoto felt his hair flick back from the force. His jaw hung open in disbelief at the sheer magnitude of this hurricane of flatulence. That same raunchy smell was now swelling up throughout all his airways and threatening to shut down his breathing entirely, but his mid-intercourse brain was too staggered to notice.
Fuuka sighed. “Sorry for the intermission…”
Makoto gave a breathy chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry about it. That was weirdly hot, how huge that was.”
Fuuka gave him another skeptical look.
“What?”
“Ugh, God, that smells fucking foul. I don’t even know how you’re still in this room, let alone still hard.”
“I’m getting used to it pretty quickly,” he insisted, which was mostly true.
“...Yeah. Well, we’re only getting started, I think. Remember when you said you’d help me find a position where I could relieve all this pressure?”
“This one’s not working for you, huh?”
“I know it might be hard to believe, given how much gas was already leaking out of me…but, yeah.”
“‘Leaking?’ Fuuka, I don’t think what just came out of you was a leak—”
“...Shut up.”
“You want to get on top?”
“That might be better…”
Breathing heavy, they adjusted positions, Fuuka straddling his torso and ready to ride atop his full shaft. She still wanted to hold hands as they fucked nasty, which Makoto thought was extra cute. Her fumes hung thick in the air, but she definitely seemed less self-conscious about it.
Mission accomplished…
That sulfuric, rotten-meat stink was clinging to every cell of his body, inside and out. There was no escaping it now, even if he wanted to—which, he didn’t. He embraced its rancid warmth, accepting every inch of Fuuka with welcoming arms. Her farty gassiness was no obstacle to their lovemaking. He craved this. He needed this.
“Mnnh!”
Makoto bit his lip as he felt her hand guide his rock-solid dick back inside her. With plenty of her natural lubricating juices, it slid right in with almost no resistance. He felt himself inserting right down to the base of his shaft as she adjusted her riding position, wiggling her hips a little more than she needed to. Her sheepish smile gave away her intentions.
“...Mnnfff…Enjoying the ride…?” Makoto tried to tease her, despite his own composure feeling unstable under the tight, fervent clamping of her pussy around his aching cock.
Fuuka giggled, a sound that titillated his ears even more than the way her inner walls felt against his girth. She leaned forward, bringing her face closer to his, putting her other hand on his shoulder, and started to slowly pump her hips up and down, taking his stick shift for a nice, easy drive. Evidently, the motions stirred around her insides in just the right way, too, as she started to press on the gas pedal.
PPBPRPRPBRSSSPBLRT!
Cowgirl was palpably shifting Fuuka’s digestive tract into something a lot more favorable. Now that she was driving the rhythm, the farts came one after another, flowing in an almost unbroken sequence that never quite seemed to wane. Her head craned back towards the ceiling as her crass bowel sounds continued to blast unapologetically all over his legs and heat his balls with her nasty rear exhaust. All the while, her mouth hung open, adorably sexy moans and groans accompanying the fetid cacophony.
PRRRLPFFFFHHPPPHHHRRrrrooouuuuuuuuUUUUURRRP–
BPPBRRRRLBPRRPRRFFFRRRRRPPPPRR–BBBRRRPPLPPRRRT-
BBRPRRRT-PPRRRPT-
BBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAOOUUUUUUUUWWRGGRLLPPPRRRLPPR—
“Mmnngghh–oouhhh, fuck…! Fuck, fuck-!”
It didn’t take long for them to blow past the speed limit, chasing the thrill until they couldn’t possibly go any faster. His hips bucked and thrusted upward with an entranced desperation. Fuuka was slamming down against him with equal animalistic desire, blowing out a hearty gust of foul wind every time she came down. They fucked like they couldn’t bear the thought of anything else, all while she farted like she had lost total control over her guts.
–PPBPRRRPPPRT–BRRPRPPPPHHHRRRSSRT–BBRPRPPPPRRT–
“Mnnuhh…!”
Makoto groaned as he felt the inevitable crescendo of an orgasm building.
“Gaah-aaaannNGHH!”
Fuuka must have felt it too. She squeezed her hand around his before suddenly slamming her hips down as a shameless, long, squealing moan escaped her perfect lips. Her warm pussy gripped tight around his cock, and for an instant that felt like an eternity, he was teetering on the cusp.
Then, the vibrations came.
sssppbpbpbbbbbbrrrrrssppbrrrrRRRRRRRLPRP-PRRrrrrrRRPPPHHFFRROOOOUUUWRrrrbbbbbBBRRRPBBBPPBBBBPPBBRRRRRRR-RRRRRRMMmmmmmMMMVVBBRPPPRRRRLLPPPRRRRRLLLLPPPT
Pressing her whole weight down against him had tightened up her back end to muffle this explosion, but only for a few short seconds. Mid-orgasm, the ruinous bombardment raged on and on, splitting her cheeks wide open and blasting into a full-scale cannonade that Makoto could feel rushing along down his bare legs.
The rumbling of her enormous flatulence rattled Makoto right down to his bones, and gave him more than enough of a nudge to send him catapulting over the edge. His whole body convulsed under Fuuka, whose asshole was still unloading the back half of this massive fart, while the condom filled with his seed.
“Ohhhh…Fuuuuuuuuck…”
Matching the beat of his creamy spurts and his entire spine straightening over and over, Fuuka’s sloppy asshole leaked out a bit of aftershock gas. It seemed to insist on getting the last word.
ssppbrlpfrpfrrfrppprt…bbrrpt…ppffrrrpt…ppgrrlplbrrllppt
Finally depleted after several priceless seconds, Makoto let his head collapse onto the pillow, eyes glazed over. With his spent cock still inside her, Fuuka leaned forward to press her lips against his. He groaned into her mouth, his sensitive dick pushing out a few more drops at the agitation under her changing posture. The smell of sex tinged the atmosphere with a hint of sweat and cum, barely enough to be detectable above the overwhelming density of gut-stink.
There were no words for this unique amalgamation of pleasures and delights. So they lay there in silence, wrapped into each other’s arms, panting, lungs filling over and over with the calamitous aftermath of Fuuka’s fumigation.