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My Seat Home It was hot and muggy that night, late at night, after 2:30 in the morning when I walked down the stairwell into the Essex Street subway station. Swiping my MetroCard through the turnstiles as the sounds of the city slowly dissipated to greet me with the ambient sound of a quiet station. I walked onto the old platform with its red columns supporting the roof as I checked my phone for the next J train, only a minute away. I quickly checked my phone to see if Sandra had replied back about our plans for tomorrow, but she must have already gone off to bed by now, it figured I guess. After sighing to myself I looked around the subway station, waiting for the train when it attacked me, that stomach pain. Were we really going to do this now, I thought to myself. The pain doubled down, nearly bringing me to my knees, I had felt it since leaving the gym, I knew that I had not taken in a good combination, but shit this was record time for the gas pangs to come back. I looked around at the platform and thought about cutting one right there, there was no one as far as the eye could see, let some out and relieve my pain a little until I got back home. There were still too many people on the street for me to leave a trail of gas behind me, but down here, I had the station to myself. Let one out, it may stink up the station, protein shakes were nothing but bad news on my digestive tract, but why the hell not I thought. I was about to, when the damn train came through out the tunnel with its lights flashing straight ahead. Of all the fucking times I did not want a train, it was now, one more minute I thought. Oh well, maybe I would be able to hold it after all, I was a strong girl after all. Putting in my earbuds I thought music would take my mind off of the pain. Boarding the train I gripped a nearby pole, not thinking about taking a seat, at least at first. The doors closed as I looked out the window at the station. My body ached some more as I tried to listen to the music, but to little avail, my stomach was growling even more with something fierce. As much as I tried to think about it, I was going to have to let off some gas, luckily for me it seemed that I had the car to myself. Man have I stunk up subway cars in the past, there was a reason I stayed late in the gym, well that and work. At this hour, I could occupy the train car to myself and cut loose the gas and this was already shaping up to be some rather potent gas. My protein farts were something else; my girls couldn’t believe some of the stenches that come out of my beautiful behind after taking in some of that shake, a nice chocolate protein shake to help in my workout. But on top of all of that, I had eaten McDonalds earlier and those three Big Macs were not sitting well with me either, mixing the two together and my stomach was killing me. I was almost ready to cry in the pain as I clinched the pole even more, thinking of almost getting off the train and finding the nearest bathroom, wherever that may be. But after a minute or so of being on this train with no sign that anyone else was there I figured it was time to push out some of this gas. I clinched even harder my hand around the pole as I slowly allowed for a little bit of the gas to pass out of my ass, hot and heavy it was a nice puff of my foul wind. SSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssss!!!!! This fart went on for maybe a couple of seconds, it was tiny but man did it pack something wrong with it. My pants warmed up quite a bit as I leaked this one out. I was only thinking of just how bad the smell was going to get, and then my worst fears were confirmed, this one was fucking rich. Something had died up there, that was for sure, this was a stinker, pure and true, rotten eggs or something even fouler than that, it was a tried and true silent but deadly fart. Ever been to the landfill, smelling up old rotten garbage decaying in the hot afternoon sun, it was something like of like that. This fart must have stunk up the entire subway car, I was sure glad that no one else was on the train to smell in this horrible stink bomb, and then I caught something in the corner of my eye and my heart began to sink, there was someone else in the car! It was a white guy, relatively cute from what I could see, he was sitting there on his phone, I didn’t even know he was there. I was horrified now, this was an awful smelling fart and the dude got front row seats to that damn thing. I can’t even believe how close my ass was to him, it was practically breathing upon him. And I didn’t fucking know he was there! How the hell could I be so stupid, I was in pain and my mind was going all over with the gas pangs I was feeling that I didn’t even check the entire car, my mind must have been so out to lunch that I couldn’t even tell that I just deposited this lethal smelling gas onto his face. I was about to move away, get off at the next station and wait for another train to stink it up, I couldn’t even bare to be in the same vehicle as him, not after what I must have put him through with that brutal smelling fart. But then I turned my music off and I began listening to see if he would say anything, or do anything. I had to keep a quick eye on him, not really turning back to watch him, me still being embarrassed and all, but I wanted to see if he was going to start gagging, or coughing or anything of that nature. The fart still reeked across the car, this was a burning ass gas that was going to linger for several minutes, my farts were not known for dissipating quickly as my friends would be quick to tell you. As I waited to see what reaction he would have, I felt another bubble appear, it came out of nowhere, a new surge of gas and given that I was about to leave the train anyway, I decided to let it out. The first time was embarrassment but given that there was no immediate reaction from him I thought he didn’t pay it any attention, or didn’t notice…fuck that he noticed, it’s hard not to notice that. But for whatever reason, it didn’t bother him; maybe one more small toot wouldn’t hurt. I was bulging with gas so intense I could have made that weight room uninhabitable for days. I really have to look into my diet, but now was not the time, now I had to…. PPPPPffffffssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!! I looked down on my phone, checking the time again as I cut this fine specimen of a silent fart. The smell must have been pretty much on par with the last one, retching and decaying and nasty beyond all belief, it was as punishing as my previous fart and the ones coming down the pike didn’t give me any hope that they would be any better. I was definitely getting off at the next station; it was so soon, I walk of the train and pray that this guy would never get into contact with me again. I must have had an ass of a goddess to his eyes, I get that look a lot from people, but after seeing what this ass could do he must have felt as if it was the nastiest thing in the world, see my butt and get far far away, at least after I’m doing working out with it. My mind was so taken off by the putridness of my gas that I had noticed a slight feeling down by my posterior. Having an ass like me gives you some unique superpowers, one of which being you basically know when someone’s about to touch it. It’s the same sense of touch that you get if someone touches your face or your chest or anything like that, but I could feel it, the shrinking of air between the guy’s face and my butt and….wait a minute, his face is up against my butt?! It took me a moment to have the whole thing register in my head but I could feel a little bit of breathing from his nose, he had that thing practically next to my big and beautiful booty. And it felt as if it was there for a good while. He was breathing the smell in, or if nothing else he was inspecting it, which is fine, I get plenty of guys who want a good look at my behind. But smelling it? That was new for me. I could still feel the hot eggy gas slowly seep out from my pants, even if I had farted a few moments ago, there was still some of that leftover gas that was just lingering about there, as I bare repeating again, my farts just don’t go away. Otherwise a girl like me would have had herself a man long ago, not that I’m bitching much, it takes an awful lot of man to convince a girl like me to have them. They always want the booty and even my tits too are in fine condition, but if you want me, you have to have the full me and no one was willing to go that far ever….until now. Nearly 30 seconds had passed and I could still feel him smelling, slowly looking with my left eye just a little bit as I saw his head leaning up slightly with his face pressed up against my butt. There was no touching between the two, but he was easily smelling what was coming out of it. I almost thought about cutting a juicy one right then and there to scare him off, but my mind was wondering with other thoughts. The guy smelling my butt after I farted: that was a new one for me; perhaps I can play around with this idea. Thoughts of embarrassment were quickly going away as I soon realized he wouldn’t bitch at me for my gas, hell he was willing to breathe it in, perhaps I can use this to my advantage. I utilized some special app a friend had given me access too a while ago that allowed you to look up the phone number of anyone nearby you, it only gave the number, not the name. I found the dude’s number and sent him a text. “Can u please lie down on the seat next to u, with ur face up? Please?” I almost had to stop myself from snickering over such a thought, but why the hell not. People were willing to do almost anything for my booty, why not see if this sucker’s willing to sniff more of its outrageous fumes. The guy looked almost as if he were a college student like myself, maybe a few years older, perhaps just out of college. His white button-up shirt appeared to indicate that he was actually a worker at some place in Downtown. His hair was brown and combed over but this was late in the evening, he was as tired as I was. I considered all of this when I made my initial text message over his way, I almost regretted doing it in the first place, being downwind from my booty the way I was going was no place for someone to be. But then the strangest thing happened, the dude actually listened to my request. He went and laid his body down on the bench, positioning it with his face staring up with his hands over his dick, yeah, not wanting to show me the raging erection he had. Its fine, I’d be surprised if dudes didn’t get hard-ons after looking at my fine piece of gluteal real estate. I was blessed with an ass like no one else, I didn’t always like it, but I got some free things and what not from guys willing to go all out for it. Of course, they usually just like to stick their cock in it. This dude was different thought; he wanted me to actually sit on his face. It was clear that he understood what he was getting himself into. He must have been some sort of kinky dude in wanting a girl’s ass over his face, but then again, it was my ass and it was beautiful. So I looked down at him for a moment, the guy looked like a mixture of excited and nervous. He had a half smile, but not the kind of smile to indicate that he was doing this only for shits and giggles, almost reserved, like he knew what was going to happen. I felt a slightly gushing going on within my tummy, probably not loud enough even for him to hear it with the train in motion. I looked down on him as he caught a first good look at me, probably thinking I was some kind of angel. I get that a lot from guys, but again, they just looking to fuck me, the fact that this dude was willing to have my ass on his face, the way I was farting said a whole lot more. So I sat down on his face. Now, I’ve sat on a dude’s face before, only for a few minutes in the past. He was a kinky motherfucker, obviously, but there was no farting involved in that one. He wanted it for a few minutes and then wanted me off, he was kinky but he did not realize that my butt was fucking huge! There was too much weight involved that he didn’t even realize that it wasn’t some young girl’s tiny ass on his face, but a real woman’s bountiful booty spread across his face, swallowing it up whole an all, he pussied out of it and we never talked again. You respect my ass, you respect me. I am one of them girls who demand utter worship and all, I hate it actually, but we have to meet halfway at least. I’ve gone in and out with guys so much that I decided that studying for my classes at school was a more enjoyable experience, that and working out. I can improve myself so much more than focus it on entertaining dudes with their flights of fancy over my gigantic ass, only to whimper out in its presence. But maybe this dude would be different. So my ass was over this guy’s face on the bench and man did it cover his head. I timed it perfectly, thank God, so that his nose was rammed up my asscrack. I was a bit nervous that I would miss the timing and break his nose against one of my buttocks instead, but I had enough experience in orienting the ass crack with other…objects to not have to worry myself about that. Sitting on his face was something else though; he was lying across the bench with his back against the bottom. As for his head, well I wasn’t sure if I had actually broken it off or not. I mean I didn’t, after sitting down I quickly found a decent arrangement that made me sure that I wasn’t pushing his skull in like pace. I have a big booty, but it isn’t the strongest thing in the world. Then again, with the squats I do in the gym, it may be. I’ve become a bit of a gym rat with my workout out; I utilize the exercise facilities at my college and usually in the late evening, after finishing up with my night class so that I can have a mostly empty facility, with my protein shakes this has turned out to be a very good thing. I change into my yoga pants and being working out, they seem to be able to take the constant strain of my lower body’s movements better and I don’t have to worry about ripping them like I could a pair of jeans, squatting up and down back and forth, I’ve busted about five pairs of good jeans over the strain of my booty. As for the dude’s face up against my butt crack, well imagine you have a basketball and you sit your ass upon it. Filled up with air and all it’s still a hard object, you ain’t exactly pressing it down into a pace, I’d be going to jail for shit like that. It was a worry that went through my head, the human skull is strong thankfully, but underneath that skull was the central hub of the human body’s brain activities. It was kind of humbling in a way, beneath my behind at this moment was a human being’s brain, perhaps a suppository for some of the brightest ideas and thoughts in the world, mixed in with blood vessels and bone and muscle, all merged together to form the part of the human body that makes thought possible. What separates us from other animals is what lies in that skull, in that brain. And now, on top of that head was the ass of a beautiful young woman, me. Beneath the folds of my pants I could feel him breathe, one breath after another so at least I knew he was alive. He must have been taking in the fumes in stride and down there it must have reeked. I’ve nearly made myself pass out after farting in my yoga pants last week. I took them off, about to wash them and decided to smell the seat of my pants, just out of curiosity, I soon learned what a bad idea that was. It smelled like shit and sweat, mixed in to a putrid combination of ghastly aromas that made me gag. God could I have really smelled that bad? I was a sweet and beautiful girl, but I was a stinker alright. The grumbling in my stomach came back and I felt the gas bubble hit my asshole, I guess it was time to try it out. PPPAAARRRRPPPPTTTTT!!!!! It was a fart alright, small but potent, I felt it come out of my ass, making some noise as I felt the gross ass vapors from my rectum rumble across the guy’s face, muffled up against with my ass it produced a like a noise that made it sound that, well I can’t really say what it sounded like. It was a tiny fart for me, but soon I began smelling its stink and I took that back. In short, this was a smelly ass fart. I could feel the man breathing beneath me, taking in each bit of gas, I’m sure he was getting rid of some of the stink for me, but enough had made it through the spaces in between his face and my ass that I caught a nice whiff of it. It definitely had a nice eggyness with it, mixed in with what smelled like what was inside my garbage can I could already tell that my farting was going to be rather nice tonight, one of those episodes. I’m not one of those people who fart all the fucking time, over and over again every day, but I do fart a lot, a little bit more than the average person I’m sure. But what I can tell you is that my farts ALWAYS stink. My mama sure as hell don’t know where it comes from, she blames my father. And daddy was a stinker in his own right, but my farts, my farts are hell compared to his. He was blamed one night after we were coming home from some restaurant as I blasted a quiet fart, stinking up the whole car; they never suspected it was me. It is nice to get other men to take the fall for my hot eggy farts; no one can imagine something so repulsive coming out of an ass like mine. But they say girls farts actually smell worse, I believe them. My farts range from smelly to toxic to breathe in. Thinking about this I felt another gas bubble and decided to see if this dude was willing to take it in. PPPhhsssssssstttttttttt!!!!! Shit son! This was a quiet fart, the silent but deadly. It was merely a pop of gas out of my ass, spreading over his face and creating a burning hot wind that nearly scorched my asscrack, it felt as if it were on fire for a split second. I was thinking back to that head underneath my ass and thinking now of the scorching hot heat that was being pressed upon it. I couldn’t even imagine what it was like to take one of these at full strength. My farts stink, they always stink, they stink horribly and this one burned like it was one of those stinkers that could destroy a man’s face. I was pretty sorry for this one, for even for me it wasn’t long before I began smelling this one. Looking down on the dude’s face, given that he couldn’t see me I looked at his body. His hands were trying to hide what he was feeling, but I saw it, his cock was rising, he was actually liking this. I thought that it was just a passing curiosity thing, but no, he was actually enjoying this….fuck! I quickly was taken back by the smell of this one. Burning the hairs in your nostrils, enough to flood the car with a rapidly increase fog of my gassy funk, this fart was quickly spreading and it was a nasty seeping mix of some hot and laden female flatulence, particularly my brand which was running at a historically high level. Granted, this fart was only a couple of seconds long, not nearly as bad as my horrible ones. You see for me, my farts range into three different categories: farts, bad farts and nuclear farts. My farts are simply that, farts, they are relatively short, make some noise and cause damage and they smell like some of the nastiest shit you could imagine coming out of a woman’s behind. They are about as most people’s worst farts, yeah I stink, that’s why I don’t fart too much in public, luckily I’m not some sort of chronic farter who can do nothing else but rip ass all day every day, or else I’d never get a guy to come down on me. The second category of fart are my bad farts, they are downright disgusting. They are loud and powerful, brass, full of energy and as strong as an earthquake, not literally no I ain’t no monster. But these farts are truly bad, they will leave behind a wave of gassy funk that will take at least ten minutes to fully go away, sometimes it’s even longer than that. I probably fart up to 40 or so times a day, especially the way my diet be going, but only a few of them will be true bad farts. You feed me something Mexican, or hot and spicy, or both and that number can easily double, my booty can bring about some rather rumbustious smelling gas bombs. And then there are my….wait a minute…. PPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! Oh my God, I’m squealing like a little girl, that one was bubbly. Almost like my face were on a toilet, spewing out some wet nugget-like farts into the bowl. There’s a little dampness with this one, I can feel his face move a bit as I drop this one, it ought to be something he’d be liking, he probably can’t even believe this coming out from me. God that shake, I’m going to stink up the city if I keep on drinking them….but I can’t help what they be doing to my muscles. Besides attending classes at school, I’m working out, making my booty even stronger and my legs and arms even thicker. Ever since watching some of my friends get beaten up by some punk ass boys back in high school I’ve been wanting to defend myself, to be able to kick their ass if I wanted to, and now I am much stronger now than I was then. I’ve been working out, and realizing that we could use some ladies in this field to help us get a little stronger on our own…speaking of stronger…phew! This one was atrocious, I’m just catching a whiff of it now, it’s really bad. Hard-boiled eggs festering in the hot sun, something like that, I’ve never been great at providing some sort of poetic justice to my fart, but some of them are so strong that I really ought to. This was a rancid bomb that ought to have knocked the guy out, but no, his hands are still moving, I think he’s trying to….ewww…..well I can take care of that. PPPPHHHAABBBBRRRBBBBRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!! I leaned over a little to the left as I dropped another bubbly thunderous fart on his face. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel right even doing this. My farts are horrible, I wouldn’t subject anyone to this unless I really hated them, and I don’t hate this guy. He’s attracted to my booty, that’s human nature, there’d be a problem with you if you weren’t, but he seems to appreciate the smell, which is a first, no one else really seems to appreciate the smell of these hardboiled gassers, and that’s something when even I can become repulsed by the ghastliness of some of these farts. This one was about maybe three seconds, or four, I had a friend count how long my farts were on one of my gassier days, for science, I think. He stopped at 30 seconds one time for one of my bad farts. Don’t worry, most of my farts are only a few seconds in length, no more than for any other person, they are probably a little worse and a little longer though, my friends can’t believe some of the longwinded ones to come out my behind. I think the genetics I got my mother and the gassiness from my father merged with my desire to build my muscles to help produce a particularly new kind of fart that was unheard of by most. Oh yeah, I was telling you guys about the categories of my farts. There was one other kind of fart that I am known for, but release only once in a blue moon, you’d understand why when you hear or smell it….when you wake up from it anyway. These farts are my nuclear farts, and there’s a story as to why they are named that way. Yes, they are like nuclear bombs coming out of my booty, releasing a stinky field of my nasty gas all over, but the reason it’s called that is much more mundane. I was in high school and a couple of us girls were studying for a history test where we were learning about the atom bombs they dropped on Japan to end World War II. In my gut I was in pain, brewing something nasty, but more than that the pain was unbearable. You guys think these farts are great coming out, you often forget that there’s a lot of pain sometimes associated with them. I know when a nuclear fart’s coming, because I will double down in pain in my gut, excreting pain that continued to get worse until the gas bubble hits my asshole. At which point, I want to cut the fart, I don’t care how bad or nasty it will be, that’s the kind of fart anyone would want to relieve themselves of. So I leaned over and pushed out the first nuclear fart in history, a powerful blast that vibrated the bed we was on. The fart went on for a long time, maybe even a minute, it was gigantic, my friends couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it, it was stronger than anything I had ever released. And then there was the smell, dear fucking God was the smell wrong. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t horrible, it was just plain wrong. It was like a skunk, high in the sulfur that makes farts stink, merged together with some rotten trash just to make things even stinkier. My pajama pants formed a little brown spot after I released that beast and my friends were coughing and gagging as they left the room and screamed over the powerful aroma. And man it was something else, I still don’t even remember what I had eaten before I cut that foul beast but I’ve done it a lot since. My nuclear farts aren’t an everyday thing thank God but when I do, you best not be downwind from me. I can count on both my hands the number of people who wouldn’t pass out on the spot from smelling one of them, but even they can lose unconsciousness if they remain in the same room for a longer time after I drop one of these. If I was in a car and I farted a nuclear fart, you may not even be able to get out of the car alive (figuratively of course) after catching a whiff of one of these. To say that the smell is not human is not saying it right, it’s extra-human, beyond human, it’s the kind of smell that I would like to study someday, they could weaponized it and use it in wars and shit. I hope I don’t have any of these farts for this dude, he might actually die from smelling one of them and that just wouldn’t be right. I went back to looking at my phone for a brief second when a new gas bubble arrived ready for release, damn this stuff just wasn’t going to quiet. Looking up at the already putrid smelling subway car, I added even more of my godawful stink to it. BBBBBRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!! Oh God this one felt worse, it sounded worse and man did it smell worse. I can’t say exactly what it must have been like to receive this fart, but releasing it, it felt almost criminal to me. This fart must have gone on about five or six seconds and for each of those seconds I must have been releasing something diabolical in this fart. My asshole was swelling as I pushed this deep into the dude’s face. His head was shaking a bit from the blast of this fart, it made me a bit proud to be able to do such a thing, but make no mistake, I felt bad about it. Making someone endure this kind of stuff is just plain wrong. Then again, it seemed like he was liking it so I had to remind myself that I was possibly helping someone live out some sort of twisted fantasy, and having a dude smell my farts once in a while wasn’t a bad idea. It’s just the fact that this particular fart that horrified me, this was a level higher than what I had it been producing, not bad enough to reach bad fart standards, as I had high standards when it came to what was considered a bad fart to me, but this was brutal. I could feel it though, something was even more wicked from this fart, the last farts were okay, but this one packed a punch, and to see him taking it all in made me kind of worried actually about what his reactions would be when these farts get even worse. Then I got a whiff of this one….Jesus I must have produced something sinister with that last one. I do watch what I eat…most of the time, but sometimes I get the better of myself. Eating McDonalds while the remnants of that shake was still wrestling inside of me was obviously now a poor decision on my part. My Big Macs were loaded, onions, tomatoes, cheese and a pre-processed burger patty. Times that by three and mix in some greasy fries and another milkshake and you can start seeing the problem inside of my taunt stomach. It’s a Russian roulette sort of thing, sometimes it doesn’t manifest itself into something bad, sometimes it does. It was kicking into a higher gear now, the smell was just nauseating. All around the subway car, you could smell it, probably all over his damn clothes, branded all over his face and mixed in with his hair. Beneath my big spandex-covered booty though I couldn’t tell much about that. Not that my pants were in great shape, this fart burned like hell coming out. The smell lingered in a way that must have screwed with his brain. Smelling one of my farts is one thing, but having it stick around with you for a longer period of time, I don’t think I could torture myself like that. I'd describe it as a mix of a lot of things people have mentioned: burning rubber, rotting eggs, musky spoiled meat, and sewer-like undertones. And shit I feel some more in my stomach…. BBBBBOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!! This one seemed to be a bit louder, I could kind of…feel this fart echoing inside the dude’s mouth, he had his mouth opened, which probably made this musky fart even stronger of an effect on him. I could taste the ever-present smell I was releasing; it was not something I would recommend tasting. He was still moving his hand around his erection, of course he was still hard over what was happening. Sighing to myself as I wiggled my ass a little bit, trying to get comfortable I look at my phone and see that Sandra’s sent a text back to me. I think about telling her about this, she can have some pretty bad farts of her own if the conditions are right, but naw, I’ll keep this to myself. I try to move my ass around a bit again. I think it’s more with the way he’s lying down on the subway car than anything else but sitting on him is actually not that comfortable. There’s enough ass to keep my tailbone from being too out of whack but that’s not helping much. Lying down flat on the seat means that his head is a little further lower in elevation that his chest, not by much but it’s a different as I’ve noticed. My right cheek is sunk perhaps a half an inch lower than my left cheek. You sit on a bench like that yourself and you see if you don’t notice it. I have to keep his nose pressed deep into my crack, or as deep as possible, I ain’t taking my pants off for him, I’ve only met him and besides, I’d be considered a terrorist if I had him breathe up my farts from such a direct location as my asshole. BBBBRRRRRRRPPPPPPPTTTTTT!!!!!! And there’s another one….jeez I’m sure having a case of the toots tonight. Most of my nights after working out to consist of me having the toots, but usually when I’m already back at home. I try not to fart much in the gym, since it’s not exactly a pleasant thing to smell. Of course, you could say that for most guys at the gym, smelling farts sucks no matter who you are, but smelling mine are even worse. At my apartment though, I have free reign to cut my nasty ass bombs anywhere I want. Typically I just deploy them in either the bathroom, mixed in with a nice bowel movement and dispersed away with an air freshener afterwards, or in my bedroom where I turn the fan on to help get rid of the smell. That said, they tend to get particularly bad when I beneath the covers. Oh yeah, you know what I’m talking about, the Dutch oven. It takes times for me to build up the gas but by the time I’m ready to go to sleep, I begin dropping my bombs in bed, pushing me to sleep, it’s almost a smell I’m immune to at this point. But it’s not the greatest thing either; sometimes you really don’t want to do that. If I have a man in bed with me, I hold that shit in, until I can’t. Hopefully he’s asleep, otherwise he’s disgusted and doesn’t want to talk with me again afterwards, I mean, smelling my farts is a nasty experience to most. PPOOOORRRTTT!!!! BBBEEERRRRRPPPPP!!!! BBBBLLLAARRRROOOPPPPP!!!! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I begin laughing as I push out not one, not two, but three farts into the dude’s face. Smelling my farts is nasty experience to most, but this dude keeps on smelling them up, I’m beginning to think that he’s a professional fart sniffer. He just remains down there, sniffing up each fart. I can tell that the subway ain’t stinking nearly as much as it could be with him wafting up the vicious fumes from my gas, and I can promise you, these are no ordinary stinkers. The smell on board this train is dreadful, reeking of the most pungent, puke-inducing and garbage-stinking gas ever conceived by man, or a woman in this case. And this dude is sniffing it all up, breathing in this awful-smelling gas. Which is a good thing cause my farts are hitting it beyond the stratosphere. The powder I started using a month ago with my protein has honestly helped in giving me more muscle, but it has also helped in making my already abnormally-foul smelling farts stink even more, as if that weren’t possible. The aroma is distinct, it’s garbage-smelling, a mixture of eggs and shit plus some really potent chemicals, and the aroma is constant and it seems that of all the people in the world, I’m the only capable of producing it. And he’s sniffing it; the dude is sniffing it all. Without him, I would probably have left the train by now, leaving it a smoldering gas chamber of my noxious-smelling fumes, but with him breathing in the hot blasts of gas from my big juicy ass he is taking away what I would guess at least half of the fumes each time I let one rip, which is very good considering the pain in my stomach is starting to pick up even more. Still, I do feel bad for him, in a way at this point I am very conflicted. I’m not sure if a professional fart sniffer is even an occupation, or if this dude is even one at all, I doubt it since he does scrim a bit after I let one rip, but he’s taking it rather professionally regardless. I almost want to get off of his face, tell him I’m sorry and get off at the next station, my stop is still ten stops away and it seems that this train is moving slower and slower. It’s probably just my imagination, but with the pain in my stomach continuing I am imaging this train taking a longer period of time than possible. But trains at this hour don’t come as frequent as they do during the day, so leaving one train to wait for another will cost me some time, time that I could be spending farting back at home, stinking up my own space to the torment of no one. On the other hand, the dude’s smelling my fucking farts! I can’t think of how awesome of an experience this actually is becoming. The position is not that comfortable, when I last sat on that dude’s face (the one I mentioned earlier) we was on a bed and I was sitting so that his face was directly lined up with my ass. Here, I’m sitting at a 90 degree angle with his face; his nose isn’t directly up my asscrack, but at an angle. Rest assure it still is in perfect range to take in the most brutal of my ass gas. I’m not sure if anyone was up to smelling this disgusting workout funk emitting from my pants, I would imagine not. Smelling my farts is bad enough, but you forget that I’m an exercise girl. I squat, I do leg exercises, I do ab exercises, I do all sorts of things, Is get myself up in a frenzy as I work out in that hot and sweaty gym each night. And to me that’s fine, I’ll shower when I get home, but right now I smell like shit, before the farting even begins. That’s part of why I am feeling sorry for the dude, he’s smelling my putrid protein farts on top of what my asscrack must smell like. I’m not one of those girls who believes we be smelling like roses all the time, I’m funky and my ass smells like pure funk and sweat. And that smell was soaked and it made my yoga pants cling to my body even more then they already did. PPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!! PPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!! Ooohh man….these were thicker, juicer and stinkier. Two farts roared out of my ass, producing a loud enough sound that I almost shook the entire bench. I watched the guy’s chest shake some as I dropped forth these bassy bombs upon his face. He looked almost as if he was going to have a seizer the way I was farting. Which I guess wouldn’t be too surprising, smelling too much of my gas was going to do that. I took a look at my phone and finally was able to read what Sandra was saying. Ha, it figures too. She’s asking if I’m farting a bit, she knows how I get after working out; luckily she doesn’t ride the same train as me. We once shared a cab coming home after working out and she ended up walking the last quarter mile home after I had some pretty stinky toots. The cab driver wasn’t none too happy either, but I tipped him well, handling that shit as well as he did, good thing he was a smoker. My friends are typically used to my gas, they can be bad themselves, a bunch of us girls working out, we can stink that weight room like nothing, you think girls can’t fart you ain’t know nothing, we can fart better than guys, even the guys think so. They walk into the weight room after me squatting in there and can’t believe the fumes filling up the place; they think I need to go to the doctor or something. They may be right. Back down below, my fart sniffer was continuing to take in the farts, somehow. I’ll give him this; he’s enduring much better than anyone else I’ve known. I once cut a tiny ass fart in a dude’s face during sex, he was out for several minutes, tiny ass fart too, he suckered out of it. Tough guy my ass! I’m going to have to give this guy my number or something, all of this he’s doing and without any complaint, he’s fucking owning it. My ass is owning his face too, this had me thinking of that one class I took last semester by that feminist professor, something about women’s rights and all. Her I am, a proud woman sitting on some guy’s face farting my nasty ass gas toots in his face, enriching his entire body with the putridness of my flatulence. His entire purpose at the moment was to rid my nose of having to smell my gas….my gas. It wasn’t just any other thing that was in his head, it was my gas. I was practically branding this dude with my own personal brand of gas. And while the other guys were quick to leave me after smelling my shit-smelling vapors from my big ass, this dude was taking each blast in with a kind of breathing. And I could feel the breathing too, the dude’s nose was busy; I could feel it poking around, almost as if I was being fucked myself. But I thought what the hell and allowed him to do so, it was clear from his large erection that he was enjoying it and let me tell you, that thing was a fucking tent pole, maybe seven or eight inches upwards. Kind of weird seeing it like that, but he was fucking hard. But the pain he must be feeling too, having to breath in my nasty shit, don’t think I never felt for him at all. I could feel his mouth moving, trying to gulp in each burst of gas. The fart thankfully contains oxygen so I can’t say that he isn’t getting fresh air, that and the fact that I’m not sitting on him the most optimal way anyway, so bits of air are going in….I think. That must not be much for conciliation since the fabric of my spandex must be disgusting to breathe or taste or smell. I could feel my warmth pushing forth on his face with the strong scent of my sweat. The dude may have been aware and ashamed of his arousal, but I think he knew about the dominant, womanly ass before him, and that I presented it to him for reverence and adoration, hungry for my touch and whatever heaven or hell it would bring. It’s funny, my asshole is the least most pleasant thing about me in my entire body. I have a significantly expansive pair of tits, my legs are thick and strong and my ass is world-class, but the dude’s interested in what’s coming out from between those blimp-like cheeks that comfort me as I sit down in chairs and benches all day. He’s not a looker, or a smooth talker or even a toucher (which is good on his part since he would have had his ass owned long ago.) No, he was a sniffer, sniffer of my farts; the experience was slowly growing on me. All of that said…. PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!! Let’s see how well he takes that one, it felt significantly worse than the last ones. While fantasizing about the whole ordeal taking place beneath me, it was hard to forget that my tummy wasn’t exactly in a good mood. The worst I hurt inside the worst my gas tends to be. Good gas rarely comes without the pain of having to brew it in the first place. Having gas is human as everyone has it, but having bouts of bad gas, especially of my caliber, means I’m doing something wrong and now my body has to compensate for whatever I screwed up on, resulting in me having to go through some pain to get the gas built up to a point for release, at which point I am temporarily relieved. I’m moaning as I push out this fart, pressing my hands around on the bench as I lean over and push forth this gigantic bomb on his face. This one is as strong coming out of me as it is splattering out on his face. The sound is hard to describe, it’s thundering but it’s also muffled by the head beneath my ass, large enough that I can’t really see much of the head, only knowing to myself that it is there. But there’s something about cutting this fart, a surge of entitlement swelling within me, knowing that I was pushing forth my punishing gas into this dude’s face, and such a long and violent eruption too. This fart is a ferocious beast that must have put him through a new source of hellish gases that is probably making him doubt taking on the assignment of sniffing his farts….oh well. BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! Three more farts. It's like witnessing an earthquake. There I begin as my gigantic butt cheeks begin to produce a rumbling sound deep into his face. The sound seems to be getting louder; closer, and soon I can feel the vibrations as well. The gas passes me like herd of elephants. Hot, putrid air rushes up from underneath my stinky butt, cooking the poor dude in a wet, juicy cloud of filth. The sound roars in my ears, probably making him deaf in the process as the potent stench of my bowels pushes its way deep into his nostrils, not giving him the option to ignore the all-powerful stench. And I’m not holding up any better as I cut the next two farts with almost identical precession. Below me I can feel a warm coating of what I would describe as something like shit-juice is spread his entire face. The toxic smell clings to his head. I bet he can taste it, smell it, feel it soaking into his body long after the fart subsides. I sigh to myself and moan a bit as I start dropping these farts at what had to be an alarmingly increasing frequency. It was happening all of the sudden, the pain in my gut was rapidly getting worse. It’s at the point that it feels like I’m being stabbed a few times in my lower stomach, I’m moaning a little bit as I move my butt around, moving just to distract myself from the pain. The smell of my gas is slowly becoming a bit unbearing even to me, I can’t help to think what it must be for the poor dude below me, but I didn’t want to move yet, my stop would be up in less than 10 minutes, if he can handle that much then it would be really amazing. I take a look at my phone, checking my Facebook page for a second before the pain gets even worse; it’s only seconds until it hits my asshole, ready for release. The guy has gone through a lot already and I’m about to make it even stinkier for him. BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!! PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! And now my stomach has begun to cross a line, no longer am I just cutting little toots here in there to play around with the man, now I’m ripping some ass and it is at this point that I feel that surge of power overwhelm me. The gurgling within me, the pain in my stomach, now I really needed him to breathe in these farts as the smell was suddenly getting much, much worse inside the subway car. I was stinking it up to a surprising level even to my standards. I was on fire. My body rocked with powerful farts, so fierce, I wanted to jump to the ceiling. But I didn't. I forced myself to stay firmly planted as I felt his nose press continuously into my asscrack, smelling the stench of what must have been the most toxic thing he had ever smelled before in his life. It was wonderful but at the same time scary. He was still sniffing, but now he was starting to gag and cough from it, for the first time I could hear him actually try to resist the smell of my farting. I couldn’t pretend to full grasp the predicament of having to breathe in some of my farts straight up from the source. I do clean myself daily, thankfully for him or else he’d probably be dead. But like most people who aren’t phenes for cleaning every square inch religiously I’m sure my inner most butt crack doesn’t get much more than wet from showering. There is an awful lot of buttock for it to penetrate before getting down there. It’s not by design that I have six pairs of these pants. One workout with even normal farts wearing this kind of clothing is enough for me to throw them into the laundry hamper and prepare the next one for the next day. My thongs and panties get soiled up too from the constant odor of my booty stink. After tonight’s workout in particular, my ass was drenched. Even my hair was so wet with sweat it looks like I’d just came out of the shower. Not yet anyway, it’s that damn humidity. You have to remember that it’s a hot ass night out here, and even hotter in the city. At least the train’s air conditioned or this dude’s experience would be even worse. My tank top shirt is completely damp with sweat and it be clinging tightly onto my chest, letting the whole world fucking see my damn nipples poking out. Yes, I do get a kick out of all of this, I have a beautiful body and I am proud of it. Beads of sweat cover are still covering my face, neck, arms, and thick thighs, probably adding an extra five pounds in weight to my pants. I can only imagine how completely soaked with sweat my tiny cotton thong is, buried deep….way deep inside that ass. This dude has to contend with all of that, all my wetness and stinkiness, before even having to contend with the fact that my butt is just pain fucking huge. I had gotten everything when it came to the size of my rear; I’ve heard everything and seen everything. Guys even start coming up on me and hump that damn thing without my fucking permission. They be surprised too when I start beating the shit out of them. But my posterior, it’s something else. It’s like I’m stuffing basketballs into my pants, they are pretty thick and meaty, muscular from all that exercising I be doing. I love it actually, walking around knowing that people are watching them sway back and forth, hypnotizing them. Sure I don’t like guys who do outrageous things to them, but tormenting them, it has its perks. Putting pants on them is something else though, I do yoga pants or sweatpants most of the time, but even working them up over my waist is sometimes a process that takes a minute and if I’m in a hurry then it becomes more frustrating, whereas I see guys putting their shorts back on in no time, I have to work out pulling that waste strap up and around those gluteal globes of mine. A guy or two has helped me on this account, thought surely for their benefit. Luckily I didn’t fart at that time, or else they’d probably get a nice whiff of my good old nasty ass gas. I like to think that my farts are only big because of my big butt, that the larger the ass the larger the farts, but scientifically I don’t think that matters much. I wiggle my ass on his face, moaning as I look at my phone to check the distance back home from my current location on the train, it’s still ten minutes away, five more to the station, I’m not going to make it. It’s coming together now, in shockingly short time. I guess I was just talking about my butt just to keep my mind off of the bomb brewing in my tummy and it feels like one, it feels massive. You ever fart and just know that it’s going to be huge, that’s what I was feeling right now. The pain gets even more intense, like I’m being stabbed a few times, doubling down. All at once I stop worrying about the dude’s face. I kind of want to get off of him, go to the far side of the train, sit on an actual seat and blast this out, this one’s going to be bad….real bad. But something compels me to remain, he’s stayed awake the whole time, I can see his body twitch a bit as I wiggle my ass. The ass wiggling probably turns him on anyway, feeling the flabs of my asscheeks on his face as I struggle to keep up with the pain. Even a quick check outside the dark window to see my actual location ain’t helping me; it’s all coming down to this. I start breathing to myself, a little bit here and there, trying to keep myself from actually doing it. I thought about the next stop on the train, I decide to get off there and walk the extra five minutes back to where I would have originally gone off. I can’t torture him with this one, I can’t stink up the car with this fart, this was going to be massive, gigantic, I was going to rip of mighty ass fart. And then, it hits me, the gas reaches my asshole, I can’t hold it anymore, I’m bursting with what is probably powerfully toxic-smelling fart. I pray to God to keep this man alive, I almost get off of him, but any movement on my part will let off the fart, I’m that volatile. I press my left hand against the man’s stomach, trying to keep it from smashing his still-erect cock and my right hand against the seat next to his head; I push down deep onto his head, getting close to smashing it. I didn’t really mean to do so, but the pain was that great, I had to let it out, right here and right now. Besides, I think the dude’s really going to love this one! BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR……. I begin to fart and I immediately regret that thought, this thing was fucking mammoth, gigantic, monstrous, it was a big….BIG ASS FART! Despite all of that, this wasn’t even my biggest ever, just my biggest in some time. Make no mistake though, this thing was colossal. I was moaning with smirking with a smile on my face as I knew it as well as anyone else; no one could compete with me the way I was cutting these farts. A beefy, strong fart vibrated a deep power thrust of my foul, reeking air with the pain of a scorching flame out from between my butt crack and straight into the guy’s face. He must have felt as if he was about to die the way this rumbler hit him. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it felt like taking this in at full strength, it was scary for me to even visualize. The smell of shit was heavier in the air as I began to smell the latest batch of foul, pungent air. The smell of rotten eggs and raw shit continued to be pumped into the car with a tougher potency. It smelled like burnt shit, eggs, beans, cheese, broccoli, and cheese, all mixed into a tear-producing gas that erupted from a fart that was outclassing all the other ones I had so far today. The fart came out as flapping ear-piercing noise that could burst anyone’s ear drum. The dude hopefully wasn’t going to go deaf over this, but I would have to guess it was at least over 70 decibels as it was a loud fucking fart. ….RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!! The fart continued, roaring out as I saw the dude’s face shake violently like a rag doll, I should have gotten off, but the smell was so fucking bad that I really didn’t know what would happen if I had espoused myself to such toxic fumes. I would probably be fine, but barely. Instead I carried on, pushing out my humongous release of gas with the sound that resembled that of a firework show. I was shooting off some loud and rancid eruption-like gas onto this dude’s face, filling up the car in what practically was a fog of stink. The air didn’t exactly look different but it sure felt different. This was a woman, a beautiful, intelligent, empowered woman releasing a colossal-sized fart onto a white dude’s face; there was something powerful about this scene, even for me at this very moment. I felt the head shake between the asscheeks, shaking as he was probably wondering when his God was going to come for him, take his life. I bet he felt bad for even looking at my booty, some guys do regret that after casting their eyes on its magnificent beauty but this dude was different, what he went through for me, helping me avoid some of the stinkiest of my gas, I would not forget him. But right now, I was killing him, empowering him with gas that was stinking even worse by the second. I could not even fathom a guess of what this smelled like up close, I would be sick to my stomach even guessing that. Three Big Macs, milkshake, fries and three big chocolate protein shakes had all met me at this moment. This fart stunk! You ever smell a dog fart; those farts were like small puffs of wind compared to the hurricane of stink I was releasing. I try to forget the ghastly nature of the stink I was pumping into this dude’s lungs; probably branding them with something that made second-hand smoking seem preferable to him. This was hot eggs, dozens of hot eggs, thrown together with some of that stinky ass limburger cheese that people always complain about. Add on top of that an oven to cook that shit into some kind of vaporous concoction that produces one of those gas clouds that Hollywood could only dream about duplicating. The breathing of this fart was painful, even to me and I can take my own brand. I could see droplets of water form on the windows as the body beneath me begins to go limp. My booty is a mixture of the nastiest shit the world had ever seen. Hot, wet sweat, mixed in with a fart smell that made a Mexican food-produced dump smell rather decent in comparison, mixed in with the heat and humidity had to produce an aroma that made a fish market smell like a boutique. The air in the subway car was thick, noxious, like a landfill. People joke about New Jersey and its smell, I made New Jersey smell good that day, all that chemical shit and the landfills, yeah, my fart was reeking stronger than this. This wasn’t a stinky fart; this was something far more callous than that. My fart was stinking to a point that the Guinness Book of Records would have to consult me on the record of smelliest fart ever. I’d hold onto that title forever, this fart has horrible! After about 20 or so seconds of pumping forth this thunderous, noxious-smelling fart into the dude’s face, I was finished, panting as I breathed a sigh of relief from having dropped this horrendous fart. I left my ass there for another 20 seconds, allowing me to breathe in this fucking rich smelling fart. The truth was, this wasn’t even my worse. I wouldn’t even have called this a nuclear fart. It was a bad fart for sure, no doubt about that, but my nuclear farts are even bigger. That said, it might have been my smelliest fart, far more bite than bark this time around. The air in that subway car was ruined, fucking ruined, I probably had it smelling like that for hours on afterwards. People be riding that subway into town in the morning and you could see one empty car that no one dare occupy. You now know that that car be empty, it still be reeking of my nasty ass gas. My farting was getting worse, stinking even fouler than ever before. I was worried now, I hadn’t eaten some Mexican for a few weeks and Sandra and a couple of the girls were thinking about stopping at this fancy Mexican joint in SoHo this Friday night. God, imagine if I had nothing but nuclear farts that night after eating Mexican, beans do make me ridiculously gassy. I couldn’t even think about what that was like, not after cutting forth this massive stink bomb of a fart. Ha, stink bombs are probably nothing compared to what was laying in my asscrack….speaking of which…. “God damn that was bad!” I yelled out as I finally stood up, reorienting my body as I grabbed one of the poles at the top of the subway car. A wave of my nasty gas began to fill up the already destroyed subway car as I allowed for some built up gas that had rested between my massive ass cheeks and the guy’s face to flow around the car, it was a mistake as the air quality in that car, already at a zero on a scale from zero to whatever, to climb even down. I was laughing as I tried my best to take this all in stride, yeah a cute girl like me had just released a disastrous fart that could cause permanent damage to the lungs but it was still funny as hell. Until I got a look at the guy, he was gone. My heart suddenly started to race, did I actually kill him? I took a good look at his body, and his face, he was not what I was imagining. A twisted guy, a pervert or even worse, no. He didn’t look like any of that. He looked sweet, maybe a tad older to me, but his face was kind of handsome, despite being a bit red. His face was sure red; suffocation by gigantic ass would do that to him. His eyes were shut, his mouth was close and his nose had probably whiffed up the last of my powerful stink. The rest of his body, his hair was messed up and his body looked limped there on the seat, motionless as I waved the air around his body, Goddamn did it stink, it stunk so fucking bad. The upper part of his white shirt was tan, probably from the aftermath of my gigantic gas. I was almost too proud of this scene, but I had to find out if I had killed him. I lowered my ear to where his chest was, listening for a heartbeat. Thankfully it was there. I checked his pulse on his wrist, it was there, the dude was out cold, but alive. I would have felt guilty the rest of my life if he were dead on the account of my gas. “Thank you dude, you are much tougher than any other guy I’ve ever met.” I said as I lowered my head and kissed his forehead, which turned out being a bad idea. I could taste my own shit on his forehead, not actual shit but the residue version of it. With that bad taste in my mouth, and in my nostrils, I wasn’t joking when I said I stunk up this subway car real good I felt the train as it finally came into my station at Woodhaven Boulevard. And it was a relief that it had because this car was left stinking to the point that I’m sure that if someone would have lit a match the whole thing would explode. I stood up and found myself gripping the pole once more as the train came to a stop, I could feel the nasty gas still lingering around my pants, smoldering like the caldera of a volcano after it had erupted. I would have to wash these pants and then some, after taking a well-earned dump upon getting home. As my stomach started to roar again I knew I had to vacate the gas chamber I had created. I had to fart some more and this dude didn’t need to smell any more of it, hell no one did. I stepped off the train to some refreshingly cleaner air. I would assume that he is going to wake up soon, which is better that I wasn’t there for it. I could only imagine what would race through his mind after that. He wanted it, but perhaps it was a bit too much, which is too bad as I can only imagine what a nuclear fart would do to him. I walk down the steps of the platform as I push out another wave of silent and stinky gas. I would be farting the rest of the evening and even I was lucky to survive breathing in those nasty ass fumes. I looked up, smile on my face as my giant rear end stood there, firmly placed within the confines of my workout pants, two giant boulders holding deep within them a polluting ass crack from which leaked a particularly dangerous and toxic brand of female flatulence, my brand. After sighing to myself for a moment and even giggling, no one was going to be giving my booty any looks tonight, not with they eyes blinded by my rotten garbage smelling farts. But at least I knew of one guy who could take in the gas, he quietly took in my farts without question and without worry about my tremendous tush on his face. I took my phone out as I typed him another text message. I laugh to myself as I sent the message. Now I had to wait to see if he would respond back. I wouldn’t be surprised one way or the other if I got anything back from him. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I had no idea it was going to be dat bad, I had no idea dat McDonalds could do dat to me. But thanks for the assist, I owe you. I typically ride that train coming home on most nights after 2:30, we should hook up again. Luv ya!” I smiled as I took a quick whiff of foul gas behind me, still smelling of rotten eggs and shit. After tonight the dude owes me nothing, I owe him the world after what I put him through. As fart sniffers goes, he was perfect, he was a brave, he was a real man. And I would be privileged if he were to ever come back onto that train again, ready to sniff more of my nasty ass gas. And next time, I hope we might be able to talk. He was worth it. |
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