I Want To Fart So Loud And So Much That You Have To Turn Up The Tv To Hear Our Movie Over The Groaning

i want to fart so loud and so much that you have to turn up the tv to hear our movie over the groaning of my ass

I want a bro to use me as an ass pillow while they do something lax, like playing video games or reading a book or something

letting all their farts purr and bubble out onto my face, stuck in their cheeks, faintly hearing their soft moans and sighs of relief, feeling one of their hands push my head in deeper before they let rip

all warm n sweaty n disgusting like 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

(probably wouldn't mind if they started to do something else too tho, like 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫)

Blossoming Rose Part 6

   “She did what?!” Sarah exclaimed, mouth agape. The brown-haired girl was draped over the side of their apartment’s small sofa, her head hanging upside-down.    “Yeah, she, uh… she fed me chocolate. Chocolate fondue. I think.” Emily replied without making eye contact.    Sarah went back to chewing the large wad of gum in her mouth, her lips smacking occasionally. “Uh huh. And this was before or after she literally screwed you senseless?”    “Sarah!” Emily turned beet red in an instant. The blonde halfheartedly threw the pillow beside her at her roommate before burying her face between her hands. It was a few seconds before she managed to squeak out a response.    “…before. It was before… the other thing.”    The two friends had been sitting in the living area of their shared apartment for over an hour, recapping the events of the last two days. Early Friday-morning sunlight filtered in through the open window, warming up the room. The clock on the wall read half past noon, indicating that both girls had missed Dr. Reed’s morning lecture. After returning home, Emily had immediately curled up in her chair with a blanket wrapped around her body and, after sending a text to her sister, had begun to tell Sarah everything.

   “Well, kind of before. I guess it was more like in the middle.” Emily peeked out from behind her fingers. “And after, when we were… doing… more stuff.”

   Sarah whistled appreciatively. “Damn, you were busy. But yeah, no, she’s definitely a feeder.”

   “A what?”

   “A feeder.” When she saw that Emily still had a blank stare, she began to smile deviously. “Ooh, I think it’s time for a little google search.”

   She pulled her laptop off the floor and quickly logged in. Emily flipped herself to lay across the other side of her chair so she could look over Sarah’s shoulder. The other girl hummed to herself and opened a new tab on her browser, and after typing quickly for a few seconds, turned the screen so Emily could see better.

   Emily read the text aloud. “Feederism: An underground sexual fetish which involves one partner, the feeder, feeding the other, both to obtain sexual arousal and to encourage weight gain in the feedee.” She wrinkled her nose in thought. “You’re messing with me. This isn’t a thing.”

   “Oh, it is most definitely a thing,” Sarah responded giddily, “and this girl is definitely into it. That shit she pulled at the italian place was some classic fat fetish-fuel.”

   She turned the laptop back to her chest and made a few clicks. Then, turning back to Emily, Sarah revealed a collection of photos on the screen.

   “Eugh! What the hell!” Emily half-retched. She stared in disbelief at the images, trying to take it all in. The pictures featured some of the fattest women she had ever seen, exposed for all the world to see. Some wore skimpy bikinis or lingerie that covered a fraction of their bodies, but most were shown with massive, stretched out boobs hanging free. One woman held a funnel to her mouth as a man poured some sort of sludge through it, while another posed sexily on an exercise bike, her stretch-mark covered ass dwarfing the small leather seat.

   The blonde felt the color drain out of her face, and she laid a hand across her flat midsection. There was a barely noticeable swell where she was bloated from the last two days. “…and you think she’s attracted to women like that? She wants me to look like that?”

   Noticing her friend’s discomfort, Sarah closed the lip of her laptop and shook her head. “Chill, Em. Nobody actually gets that big, it’s mostly just a sexual fantasy sort of thing. Your girlfriend probably just likes to watch people eat.”

   “She’s not my girlfriend.”

   “Fuck buddy?” Sarah suggested.

   The color returned to the the blonde girl’s face in a flush of red.

   Emily exhaled. “So it’s normal? The feederism stuff?”

   “Ha! Normal!” Sarah coughed, choking on her surprise. “You sweet, innocent soul. Your girl worked BDSM, exhibitionism, and who knows what else into your first date. Her liking thicker women is the least of your problems.”

   She took a deep breath, then continued: “But what I’m saying is, don’t worry about it. Everyone has their weird kinks. Fleur sounds like she’s more… forward… about hers, but who cares? Be adventurous, try out some new things with her! The way I see it, you managed to snag a drop-dead gorgeous girl who’s willing to take the initiative, who’s probably a great cook, and who’ll find you more sexy if you let yourself go a little.”

   “…” Emily didn’t know what to say.

   “Honestly? I think dating someone like her would be great for you.”

   Emily fidgeted in her chair, thinking it over. Her core still throbbed warmly from thoughts of the previous night. She remembered Fleur’s methodical, teasing touch running up and down her body, how she felt when she fell asleep in the other woman’s arms. The mental image of wider, more pronounced thighs and added weight on her chest flashed across her thoughts, but she quickly pushed it away.

   Emily nodded, deciding to trust her roommate’s advice. Before she could say more, however, a sudden thought stopped her. “Sarah? How do you know all this stuff about feederism, anyway?”    "Oh, I went to a few BBW nights at a bar a while back.“    Emily stared at her friend suspiciously. ”…As a fat girl, or a fat admirer?“    "Wouldn’t you like to know.” Sarah winked.

——————————————–

   Jennifer could feel her tightly-bound chest burst outwards to rest, wobbling, on her belly as she undid the top buttons of her shirt. The twin mounds matched her shoulder width in size and came up to the first of her triple chins, her cleavage pushing apart her white undershirt and business-casual jacket. When she reached for the steering wheel of her car, she had press her breast together so she could extend her blubbery arms straight out. She felt like a soft, bloated balloon ready to pop as she felt her extended seatbelt squeeze across her gut, only just holding her into the ill-fitting seat.

   But she fit, barely. It worked. It would have to, for now.

   She shut the car door with a slam and quickly turned on the engine. Immediately, a stream of cold air hit her face and began to repel the stifling heat inside the vehicle. She slouched into the seat, enjoying the fresh air for a moment, before a second wave of air filled the car.

   Frrrrrt. Gas leaked out from underneath her rear as Jen allowed herself to relax for the first time in hours. Her ass cheeks were crammed like dough between the car door and gearshift but still managed to wobble with each thundering fart. She repositioned herself, squeezing out another few pbbbts of gas, before undoing the middle button of her coat and allowing her belly to slosh forward.

   Fuck, she thought, it didn’t use to press into the wheel like that. She knew better than to try and readjust the steering wheel; she already knew she had moved it to its highest setting the week before. She grit her teeth, sucked in her gut in order to turn the wheel clockwise, and backed out of her parking spot.

   Once she was clear of the lot and onto the main road running through town, she relaxed her gut and rolled down her window to air out the car. She had to be careful to keep up appearances at her office, with most of her coworkers already whispering about ‘that land whale’ behind her back. As a secretary, like it or not, appearances mattered and she knew she was one embarrassing incident away from being fired for some contrived reason. Of course, she wouldn’t have to worry about losing an entry-level job as a glorified answering machine if she had stayed with the business degree, if she had taken her parents’ advice, if she hadn’t met that lying-

   Jen inhaled. She refused to think about that woman again, not anymore. That chapter of her life was over, and she was never going back. She had a new job, a new boyfriend, and a very good therapist. This was her fresh start.

   Grrrrrrrrrrrwwwl. She involuntarily clenched her gut, trying to ignore its complaints. Another rumble followed it, and another, until she could feel the beginnings of hunger pains stabbing through her belly. Scowling all the way, she sighed and signaled to turn into the parking lot of the closest fast food place she could see.

   After parking her car, Jen pushed the driver’s side door open and buttoned up her shirt. Then, thinking twice about it, she undid the top button in a compromise. Already beginning to pant softly from the heat outside, she locked her car and waddled inside the restaurant.

   A bored-looking cashier greeted her as she pushed past the double doors. “Hi, welcome to-”

   “Hi, yeah, give me a small order of fries and, uh… a medium chocolate shake,” she said to cut off the cashier before he could get further into the greeting.

   “Alright. Would that be all?”

   “Yes, that’s all.” The cashier punched a button on the register. Jen bit her lip, then nervously added: “No, wait, make it a medium fries. Medium. For both.”

   “Alright. Would you like to make it a #7 combo and upgrade to a large shake for only 50 cents?”

   Another gurgle rocked Jen’s belly. She shook her head, trying to ignore the automatic response to say yes. She could remember going here hundreds of times with her, at first letting her talk her into getting larger and larger portions, then letting her order for the two of them all the time. Feeling so bad when she asked to supersize each order, like it was a forbidden guilty pleasure, and remembering the tingling pleasure she got every time she looked the server in the eyes and asked for several orders of fries like it was nothing…

   “Ma’am?” the cashier asked. Jen blinked. She had spaced out, creating an awkward pause. Worse, she could feel warmth spreading between her legs as her memories and temptations aroused her to no end.

   “Uh. Um, yes. Just give me the large fries and large shake.” She could feel the judging stares of the line behind her.

   “Alright. With a large fries, you can upgrade to an extra large shake for-”

   “Yes!” Jen said, her voice shaking. “Just… do whatever. The largest size.” Saying those words, she felt a familiar, shameful arousal creep through her. She clenched her thighs together, hoping that the hot dampness there didn’t show.

   “Alright. That’ll be $6.35.”

   Jen handed the man her credit card and found that her order was ready almost immediately. She picked up her tray at the counter and walked back to find a seat. Several customers averted their eyes when she maneuvered her bulk past their tables, while others tried to subtly stare at the rhythmic jiggle of her ass.

   The obese woman couldn’t muster the courage to do anything but set her tray down and pop two fries into her mouth once she reached an open table. She refused to react to the usual stares and whispers directed at her when she went out in public, but nothing could stop the shame she felt deep in her gut. Jennifer reluctantly retrieved the chair from the other side of the table and settled herself into the two seats, each ass cheek easily filling a single chair.

   Fuck. Fuck this place, fuck these fries, fuck my fucking appetite, Jen cursed to herself. She remembered back in her freshman year when the very idea of cursing would cause her to blush. Bodily functions weren’t the only inhibitions she had lost since then. I’m supposed to be on a diet. A diet of kale, and salads, and 1200 calories a day.

   300 of those calories slid down her throat as she dipped another handful of fries into the shake. She had been fairly picky about her food being kept separated, plain and simple, before her rapid weight gain, but by now Jen cared more about getting as much food into her mouth as fast as possible. Efficiency was key.

   Only four or five fries were left in the carton when a familiar pressure built up within her lower body. It felt like a mild discomfort at first, like she was just slightly overfull, but it grew and grew. Soon it began to feel like hot bubbles were flowing through her insides, before the gurgles down below her belly became audible. The redhead’s eyes bulged in panic.

   No. No, no, this is not happening, this cannot be happening here. I didn’t eat enough today for it to happen this early… She retraced her steps. Fresh fruit for breakfast, then those boxes of leftovers, getting barbecue for lunch because honestly she deserved it… no more than two, three trips to the vending machine at the office…

   The dull ache in her gut continued to throb away, when suddenly she felt a burning sensation underneath where she sat. The blob of a woman clenched her thighs and ass as tightly as possible, but she could feel how weak her muscles were. Her legs spread apart after a few seconds, shaking from the exertion, and the muscles around her rear relaxed involuntarily right after. She tried desperately to hold it, drawing her ass cheeks inward again, but after two more tries she was completely out of energy. Her face was reddened, and she felt sweat trickle down her ass crack. Jen tried one last time, even pressing her hands against her hips, but her ass merely jiggled, relaxed and limp.

   Shit. I have less control than a… a newborn fucking baby. Jen quickly corrected herself before she could complete the sentence in her head. Her words still echoed distantly.

   ‘You have less control than a fucking cow! Hear that, you fat sow? You shit more than a fucking farm animal.’

   Jen almost screamed in frustration as the memory reignited the other slow burn between her legs. An orgasmic ache, hidden beneath her 4XL skirt and panties, left her dripping wet. I need to get out of here. I can’t make it home, but I can’t just sit here.

   She clutched the edge of the table and, praying that her self-control would hold, stood up from the table. She stood shakily and waited for her meaty hips to stop wobbling, the burning in her gut growing worse by the second. Once she was sure she could walk, she breathed a sigh of relief.

   So far, so good. Maybe if I just head out to the car, it’ll pass. With time to think, Jen found her eyes drifting back to the tray on the table. She spared a glance at her car sitting outside, bit the inside of her cheek, and decided that one more bite couldn’t hurt. However, when she turned to reach for the last couple fries, her cumbersome belly turned with her. The dull table edge slammed into her viscous, jiggling belly fat with a low thud and pressed against her skin. Inches of flab flowed over the top of the table as the lower buttons of Jen’s shirt popped away, and she let out a pained grunt as the impact with the table sent ripples down her gut.

   FRRRPBT. Jen gasped as she lost what little control she had over her stomach. The wet fart echoed loudly through dining area. The horrified woman knew that everyone in the room was staring at her, but she avoided all eye contact while she gripped a chair with her pudgy fingers and angled herself towards the restrooms. She could feel the dams in her gut crumbling. At the same time, arousal arced up her back as she imagined the expressions on the other diners’ faces and hunger pains pierced her stomach once more. The milkshake was grabbed off the table as an afterthought, and she wobbled through the women’s room door as fast as she could.

   The restroom was empty, thankfully. Jennifer threw open the door to the first stall and promptly wedged her hips into the doorway. She stood there and pressed forward until she realized she was a foot wider than the doorframe. Another burst of gas trumpeted from her ass while she backed herself up and made for the wider handicap stall.

   “HNNG!” Jen cried out. The chaos in her belly made thinking clearly impossible. Her pants were thrust to her ankles in a heartbeat, and soon after her massive butt hit the toilet seat. It was cold against her bare skin, her supple flesh draping over the sides of the bowl and completely obscuring it. The moment she sat down, a massive fart poured out of her ass for several seconds. Jen’s hands reluctantly rested on her hips and trailed along her cascading rolls of flab until they reached her belly button. She looked down and found the four familiar white flowers tattooed onto her belly. They were hidden amongst colorful swirls of ink and lettering that adorned her entire belly, but she could have sought them out by muscle memory.

   She lined up her thumbs and index fingers with the tattoos and pressed her hands inward. The moment she began kneading those four pressure points, her gut made a wet gurgle like a drainpipe and the floodgates opened. As soon as the violent stream came to a stop, her stomach angrily demanded to be filled again. Jen thought about ignoring it for a split second before she tipped the open milkshake back and began pouring it into her mouth.

   Sweat ran down Jen’s cheek and mixed with tears. She practically drooled over taste of the thick, chocolate sludge filling her mouth. She chugged the shake, one massive gulp at a time. The occasional choked sob interrupted her gluttony, but it still only took a minute for her to drain the large cup.

   The feedbag belched and continued tracing her fingers over the white flower tattoos. She forced one last fart out of her ass and moaned happily, squeezing her gut empty like a tube of toothpaste. Jen was reduced to whimpering pig in heat, sitting on a toilet seat cracked under her own weight, and the only thing on her mind was regret that she hadn’t ordered a second shake.

——————————————–

   *Click*

   “Honey, I’m home!” Jen lumbered through the doorway, squeezing her hips sideways through the frame. She turned to close and lock the door behind her, but instead felt the wooden edge sink into the soft padding on her rear. The entrance to her apartment led into a narrow, cramped hallway, and Jen found her hips jamming against the walls no matter which way she turned.

   “Oh, babe, let me help you with that.” Jennifer’s boyfriend and other occupant of the apartment approached her. Mark was always like that, trying to accommodate her size as best he could. They had met through a mutual friend months ago, back when Jen was still in school, and he was one of the few people she had kept in contact with after she had practically taken over her life. When Jen finally broke it off with her, Mark hadn’t hesitated to rekindle their connection and offer his place to her for as long as she needed.

   He gently extricated Jen from the entranceway, slid his strong arms around her love handles, and squeezed past her. Once she had shuffled far enough, he was able to easily slide the door shut and lock it.

   “How was your day? Did you have a good walk this morning?”

   Jen blushed lightly. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him how she had spent the morning lounging on the sofa binging on leftover Chinese instead of sticking to her workout regimen. “Oh, you know, the usual. I got in a solid half a mile today, I think.” She patted her belly. “Gotta work off those extra pounds! And, uh, I threw out that old Chinese food in the fridge this morning. I think it went bad.”

   "Aw, you’re so good. I’m proud of you, sticking to your diet like that.” Mark turned away. “You know… for a while, a few weeks ago, when I saw you with your ex, you looked… well, I thought for a while that you must not even be trying to lose the weight, that you just didn’t care.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

   “I’m glad, too. That’s all behind me, now.“ The lies slipped easily off her tongue. Jen rested her head against his chest and allowed her spherical body to press against him as much as it could.

   “Good to hear. I have a special surprise for you, to celebrate one week of eating healthy! And, uh, one week of being with me, too.” He blushed. “I made dinner! Now, it’s nothing much - just a simple garden salad and that cucumber dish I wanted to try making the other day - but I think you’ll like it.”

   The thought of dinner sent a loud rumble through Jen’s stomach. “Yeah. That sounds good.” The lump of starch and sugar settled in her stomach and unleashed a low gurgle. It was the sound of bloated digestion, not hunger.

   “Wow, sounds like someone’s starving!” Mark beamed, “That just means the diet’s working! Come on inside and grab a bowl.”

   Jen suppressed a belch, the taste of junk food rising up her throat. She could taste the salt and grease on her lips. It wasn’t the taste of her supportive, doting lover’s lips. No, it tasted like her.

   Jennifer licked her lips hungrily. It was delicious.

Last night I decided to have a late night stuffing with some greasy burgers and fries, and I knew it would come back and make me an utter mess today. While at work I feel my stomach start to bubble, and I felt a small fart slip out of me while helping someone. After a brief blush, I decide to head off to the bathroom.

I couldn’t have guessed just how this visit would go. Once I make it in there and I took a seat in the stall, one of the loudest farts I think I’ve ever passed roared out, instantly making my face go red.

But it didn’t stop there. Blast after blast, the gas just wouldn’t stop ripping from my ass, each one louder than the last. I knew I wasn’t alone in there, someone was already in before I had started and some had come and gone. Here they were, being made into an audience for my symphony of brass, and me unable to stop myself.

Eventually a full five minutes passed, and everyone else had left. Yet there I was, still pushing out the remnants of gaseous pressure from within me. After another minute or two, it finally settled down and stopped, leaving me feeling the burning embarrassment on my face of what I had just done, insanely turned on by the amount of air that was now no longer trapped in me.

Returning back to work featured a very wry smile on my face knowing what I had done~

Went down a strange path on reddit earlier and omfg... The fact that men farting during sex is a common occurrence, they'll be all suave and use all kinds of weird methods to avoid it when you first start dating but once you've been together for a while they'll just let loose. Being in missionary and feeling someone's bubbly farts pop against your skin, slide between your crevices until that powerful nasty stench reaches your nose. He doesn't even mind cuz he's used to how bad his gas smells, but you can't fucking handle it. The warmth of your body heat making his ass sweat, having that sweat drip down onto you fucckkkk, ripping ass on every thrust and leaning down into your neck, kissing and sucking when all that movement causes him to burp right against you. He'd apologize but neither of you would want to stop, either the pleasure will outweigh the disgust or your disgust might transition into something else...

Level Up

BBBBRRRRPPPTPTTTTTTT

A loud trumpet blast hits your face, an eggy smell making its way up your nose. A bet, it was a dumb bet that I didn’t think I could lose but here I am. A few inches from Brett’s bubble butt constantly blasting my face. Singeing my nose hair and blowing back my hair. Fogging up my glasses only for the spray of sweat glistening down his cheeks clearing the fog.

“Alright boys here comes another one” Brett says to his gaming buds on the mic.

Ppprrrttt

“Oh that one was smaller than I thought. Lucky y… “ A loud gurgle interrupted a Brett as a devilish grin grew on his face. You couldn’t see his face but you were shaking in fear of what was to come. “Guess your luck has just run out. Listen to this one boys” Brett says. The smell hitting you before you even hear the blast begin.

First it was dry and loud, akin to an orchestra loud and overpowering. A horrid smell but nothing you’re not already used to. After a two minute uproar it was still going strong but got quoted and wetter spraying your face with sweat. The air quality only getting worse as the smell of a barn begins sweeping throughout the room.

“You bro it sounds sick. Be happy y’all aren’t here!” Brett says laughing with each breath.

At minute five you thought it was over quiet apart from Brett’s laughter and then a sight of relief broke his laughter. A vile smell the worst thing you’ve ever smelled entered your nose. You kept gagging not being able to breathe until everything went dark. Brett still ripping for another minute before realizing he couldn’t feel your breath hitting his cheeks anymore.

“Oh look like he passed out. Well that doesn’t mean I stop”