It was a very encouraging relationship.
I really liked being with her, and she indicated she had similar feelings about our young love. I think we were approaching that stage where we would consider moving in together. We were past the “I love you stage”, we had past that emotional hurdle, we were seeing each other so often it would save us time to live together.
She lived uptown, I lived downtown, and the commute was a bitch. We alternated to make it fair. Sometimes we would end up in her apartment and I would stay over, other times she would stay the night at my place. It was cute.
One cold night in mid-winter we decided to stay at home and eat in as it was too cold outdoors. It was good snuggling weather. I decided to make a special night of it by cooking at my place. She brought the wine, I cooked.
She swept in the door, bringing the cold world with her as it clung to her coat. I helped her out of it, kissed her and we sat down to chat for a while. Then she went to freshen up, I went back to the delectable chicken dish I was cooking and poured some wine for us. She returned, kissed me some more and we settled in for a night of love and contentment.
I was soon ready to serve dinner, a lovely chicken satay with fried rice and Chinese vegetables. It tasted quite nice even if I do say so myself. She loved it! Her plate was soon demolished, and she wanted more. As I had cooked enough for a few meals there was plenty extra. I watched as she devoured the second helping I had made her.
She was content. We sat down and relaxed for a while, finishing the rest of the bottle of wine; I think she was getting nicely tiddly by the end.
Then we started to kiss, and kiss some more and we began to undress each other. As I removed her blouse I released her beautiful soft and warm breasts. They were a bit smaller than average, firm and well balanced. Her nipples were that lovely torpedo shape I loved to see in online porn pics. Even though we were in our early thirties, her belly was firm, her pubic mound trimmed neatly and her skin held the delicate fragrance of her perfume. I am a man; of course I don't know what it was!
I removed the last of her clothing, as she commenced undressing me. As she slid down my underpants my hardened cock sprang to life, she stroked it lovingly for a few moments before bending forward to take it into her mouth. My cock melted as it entered her velvety mouth. She was very pleasing orally. I looked down and enjoyed the view, watching my enlarged penis slide in and out of her lipstick covered mouth. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. I am sure I was moaning, it was delightful. I could have stayed there all night enjoying her attentions but that would be unfair and not very gentlemanly of me.
I stood up and moved over to the large soft rug in the middle of the room. I then lay down and drew her down with me so that she could continue her expert work on my dick. I positioned her so that I could get to her cunt, and started to lick it and kiss it. It was wonderful. As she sucked my manhood, I enjoyed the full view of her vagina, I could smell its sweetness, bask in the view of her entrance, and enjoy eating her love folds.
It was heaven. As I licked and sucked and fingered her, she grew more and more excited. She was gushing from time to time, she was so intense, and it aroused me greatly to see her so excited. My face was buried in her cunt, lapping up her love juices. I also licked her cute asshole with my tongue, gliding my tongue around its entrance, enjoying the kinky taste and aromas. I held her anus open with my fingers as she continued to work my cock, I was so aroused by the sight of her tiny puckered little bum hole.
And then it happened.
THE FART
I was staring straight at the hole when suddenly it opened, it flexed and a violent explosion of hot, noisy gas came charging out and smacked into my face.
My face had been inches from her ass. I felt the full force of her anal blast! It was hot, a hot wind blasted against my face. I can still today remember, intimately, exactly how it felt. I was shocked. I was stunned. And I was in a real pickle.
If I laughed, or ran away I could ruin her sex life forever. I had to do the right thing. For the sake of the rest of mankind, I had to do the right thing. I did what any man, hell bent on fucking, would do - I pretended it didn't happen. Well, I tried to be polite and pretend it didn't happen. That worked for a few seconds.
Then came the stench. Oh my fucking god, it was the most foul, the most disgusting fart I have ever smelt in my life and it had been blasted at me, full force, from inches away. I had seen the fart. I had seen her ass open to do it. I had felt the hot gasses rush over my face. She had basically farted on my face!!!
And now I was smelling the most putrid, the most disgusting, foul stench you could ever imagine. How long could I survive and continue to pretend? How long before I died. I was on the verge of death already. I had been trying not to breathe for a few minutes.
Agggggghhhhhhhh, I was sure I would have to die. And then she must have got a whiff of the smell as well. She reacted instantly. She whirled around and hugged me urgently, saying how sorry she was and what a disgusting thing it was to do. She kept apologizing for minutes. She especially apologized for the disgusting odour. What could I do? Clearly she hadn't intended to do the world’s most putrid fart on my face. Clearly she hadn't even intended to fart at all. As she said, it just slipped out. She said she felt too happy and relaxed at the time, so it just happened.
Wow, good thing it was only the gas that came out and not the objects! I hugged her; there was little else I could do. What could I do? It was an accident. But what an accident, and what a stench. Fuck me dead it was horrid?
You won't be surprise that the fart episode killed sex for the night. We hugged, she apologized, and then finally she decided she should go home. I didn't argue. What a moment in my life, having a woman fart on my head during sex. How would I ever forget that, how would she ever live it down? Would we survive? All very important questions, I assure you.
Well, to cut a long story short, we did survive, for a while. Mind you, for a few days she found excuses not to come around but finally love conquered the problem and we got on with our life together. I gotta say though, I don't think we engaged in oral for a while, at least not the oral involving my head between her legs kind of oral.
Over time we settled back into our routine, and sex came back into our lives. Then one night we grabbed a take away at some chicken joint and went home. After some kissing and cuddling and wine, we went to bed and made hot passionate love. She sat on top of me and enjoyed an intense orgasm, and then she rolled over and lay on her side. I entered from behind and began to fuck her pussy. My hands were on her lovely tits, my cock sliding in and out of her tight, wet cunt, it was fantastic. I slammed into her hard, and then there was a popping noise that didn't quite enter my horizon. I pounded her again, there was another popping noise. This lodged into my brain but whilst the grey cells were trying to calculate the source of the noises, there were more with each thrust into her body.
I thrust, she popped. I thrust again, she popped again. I was so close I had to keep fucking, but my brain was recording the pops.
And then the stench hit me. Oh my fucking god. It had obviously taken a few moments to waft its way up to my nostrils. Now it was trying to kill me again. Once again I tried to continue like a true gentleman, but fuck the stench was killing me.
Then she smelt it.
She screamed.
She cried. She broke down in massive embarrassment.
She was mortified and so embarrassed. And, of course, I missed out on my climax again. I hugged her and assured her it was ok. Was it?? She was so upset and didn't know what to do. I told her not to run away but to stay.
She did. Oh god it was bad though. The smell was as bad as the first time when she had dropped her gas bomb right on my face. This girl had a problem, a big problem.
It took sometime before she recovered, a little. I tried to cheer her up by suggesting it was the chicken and wine combination. I think she liked that idea. At least she felt more in control if she knew what was causing it
.
But what was I going to do? Could I live my life with someone who could fart in my face anytime during sex?
Oh my....... that would be hard.
It started to put a barrier between us, even though she insisted it was the first time in her life that she had this problem. We struggled along but I think the relationship was now doomed. Then one day she told me her mother was ill and she would have to go back west to look after her for a while. I don't know if that was the truth, or whether it was just her way of leaving me gracefully. We kept in touch for a while, by mail and phone back in those days. Then she stopped calling. Then she stopped writing.
And it was over.
I never heard from her again.
I don't know what happened to her problem, I don't know if she has it fixed or if she still farts away during sex. Poor husband if she does.
But I will never forget the sight of her ass opening and the hot gas blowing at my face. And I will never forget the stench, oh my fucking god it was horrid.
I hope she had a good life, good luck to her.
THE MAID
Brian had often fantasised about their having a maid, but was stunned when his wife actually arranged for one to move in with them. Of course, the inevitable happened, he fell in love with her but he did not expect the wild twisting of events that would follow, and he had not anticipated his wife's deception.
BRIAN
They were sitting in the sun one afternoon, yes it is possible to have a sunny afternoon in England, and he made one of his typical silly jokes.
He was feeling in the mood for a beer, but neither he nor his wife wanted to move.
“I suppose we need a maid,” he joked.
His wife, who had heard him jokingly comment on this before, replied quickly, “Yes, a maid would be useful and she could also pull you off.”
“Hmmm, what a lovely idea,” Brian said.
“Oh well, if you can afford a maid, go and get one and she can pull you off and suck you off, and pour your beer, I don't care anymore, I just want someone to clean the house.”
Oh my, what a temptation, thought Brian.
Could he really afford to get a maid and could he get away with having sex with her?
Later that evening, just to provoke the issue since he was feeling cheeky and excited by the idea, he said to his wife, “And what sort of maid should we get, my darling?”
“I suppose she would have to be French, named Fifi, and wear a very short skirt and have a feather duster.” Brian was in such good form.
“I suppose she should also bend over often, maybe when I drop my hankie.”
He laughed.
His wife said, “Or maybe she could be fifty, she could be a German woman called Helga and be built like a brick shithouse and when she pulls you off she does it to the sound of German marching music and your dick would be sore for a month.”
She laughed; she always thought she was funny. He, of course, didn’t see the humour in it.
He went back to his image of Fifi, sadly Helga kept interrupting.
Oh well, he sighed inwardly.
A few weeks later his wife came to him and said that she had seen an advert on the Internet for a maid. The woman was about forty, she wanted a live in position and didn't want much money since the live in would be worth a lot to her. She was Irish and she wanted to spend twelve months with a household.
They looked over her details and Brian checked out her photos.
Actually she looked ok for a forty year old. It said she didn't have any kids and it showed. Her tits still looked firm and upright, they looked small and she was slim.
I wouldn't have minded giving her one, Brian thought.
But he didn't seriously think they would ever have a maid.
KATRINA
He was very surprised to find a few weeks later that they did indeed have a maid and her name was Katrina, she was the Irish girl.
His wife had organized everything; she said all he had to do was pay for it all.
He was introduced to Katrina and she was more attractive than in the advert.
She had lovely reddish, brown hair; it was mid length and curled into hug her face. He loved her accent. She was about five foot eight, small breasted and slim - for a middle aged woman, that is.
She seemed to be a happy woman.
She thanked them for giving her a chance; she said it was too hard finding decent employment in Ireland at the moment.
His wife showed her to her room; it was upstairs at the end of the house, in the spare room next to his study.
Brian carried her bags, under his wife’s direction, to Katrina’s room and they let her settle in.
Once they were back downstairs his wife asked, “What do you think?”
Brian shrugged and said, “I suppose time will tell, we will have to see how she goes but she seems ok and nice and happy and friendly.”
His wife looked at him and added, “And please don't try to get into her panties, we don't want to drive her away because you are a randy old goat and want to stick your silly little dick into her.”
Brian ignored her stupid comment and went outside into the garden.
The rest of the week went well, Katrina settled in and he thought both he and his wife enjoyed the extra help around the house.
His wife actually seemed like a new woman and not so stressed.
Life's simple chores did always seem to wear her down, he never understood why.
But if she was more relaxed and happier that was good, there was always the chance it might translate into more frequent sex for him.
But it didn't.
The next week he was away traveling with his work.
When he returned Katrina had clearly settled in and the house looked great. Everything was spotless and she was treating them like royalty. She cooked their dinner and poured the wine, and baked for them, making cakes and biscuits.
His wife realized too late that it wasn’t good for her waistline but she always wanted something to whinge about.
Now it was living too well.
The weekend came around and it was lovely sunny afternoon.
They sat around the pool getting a bit of a tan, yes, I know, getting a tan in England.
His wife invited Katrina to join them.
When their Irish maid came out poolside she looked stunning. Luckily he was wearing sunglasses so he could perv on her curves out of the corner of his eye without it being obvious to his wife.
He wondered if she now regretted inviting Katrina.
She had a stunning body, and wore a lovely one piece black swim suit.
She bent over to feel the water temperature with her fingers; he kept his eyes on her tits as they jiggled inside her swim suit and hang downwards under the power of gravity.
He could feel his cock rising proudly under the stimulation of her breasts.
He lay there admiring her body and watched her dive in and swim slowly through the water.
The sun was so nice on his body, washing over him and making him day dream. Sexual fantasies flooded through his mind as he watched her.
He hoped his wife wasn’t looking, but she was.
“Enjoying the view, you old pervert,” she said, and laughed.
“Oh, you men are so predictable.”
She sipped her champagne, and was soon asleep in the lovely sunshine.
Katrina stepped out of the pool, the water running down her body, she brushed the water from her hair and then reached for her towel.
Brian watched as she towelled herself dry, and could not help himself from having very evil sexual thoughts about what he would like to do to her.
As he was mentally pushed the straps off Katrina’s shoulders, his wife stirred, sat bolt upright and said, “I have to go out.”
She picked up her towel and looked at him and said, “Katrina can make dinner for you, I will be out until late, I am having a girl’s night out with Barb and Sally.”
“Be good,”
she blew him a kiss and said; “See you tomorrow,” to Katrina and left to get ready.
Oh, my god, he thought, she is going to leave me alone with Katrina tonight?
That might be a bit dangerous. He wondered if it was real, or if his wife was playing some kind of annoying game, or laying a trap for him.
Katrina came over to him and asked if there was anything he needed.
My Erotica – Out to Dry Page 6