Tom and Mary were an adventurous couple; they loved going on
adventures, whether it be climbing mountains, hiking through jungles or across
desserts, taking a long cruise across the sea or crawling through labyrinths of
underground caves. As they were both quite well off, they indulged themselves
quite often and such adventures had brought them very close together, although
not quite close enough for Tom to tell Mary his deepest secret.
Tom was not a particularly handsome man; at least he saw himself as an average Joe, particular when compared his his gorgeous wife. Mary was tall, plump with voluptuousness, whether it be her large breasts or the wonderful curves of her hips, or her soft, strong thighs and tight behind. She had a face to match her sumptuous body, with her glistening emerald gaze, innocent smile and of course, the long dark hair that fell passed her shoulders. Tom didn't want to lose a woman like her; he knew he could never get better and so for the time being, he kept his secret to himself.
Tom and Mary were out camping and as such, their main meal would have to be beans. This often led to a lot of farting from the both of them, something Mary couldn't put up with in a single tent so they slept separately. All night long Tom would lie awake, listening to Mary breaking wind with wild abandon and he liked it. He often masturbated just listening to it, wondering what it smelled like up close. He wished she'd fart like that when they were at home in bed together, but that was rare and the only other time she'd do it was when they were awake and he'd have to feign disgust rather than pleasure at her fragrant arse smells.
On that particular night, Mary didn't do much farting at all, so all that gas was pent up inside of her the following day, although she didn't feel anything until they'd arrived at their destination, a series of caves with several tight spaced passages that meant they'd have to go single file, crawling their way through. Mary foolishly decided that she'd go first, not realising yet that she'd soon need to release her gas, not also realising that Tom secretly wished she would fart, now that his face was so close to her large behind.
The tunnel went on for a while, when Mary felt a stirring in her bowels. “Oh crap,” she muttered to herself as the gas built up. She did her best to hold it in, stopping abruptly to clench her cheeks. Tom didn't notice that she'd stopped and carried on, eventually his face slapping against her butt. Before Tom could apologise, a short, loud “POOT” exploded from Mary's anus, right onto his face. Tom reeled back in shock, while Mary blushed with embarrassment.
“Oh god I'm so sorry Tom!” she cried. “I couldn't hold it in.”
Tom didn't know what to say; his wife had just farted on his face! He took a little whiff, only to grimace with displeasure at the dirty, sulphuric stink that he was encased in. At the same time his dick got erect and he found himself sniffing again. “It's okay,” he assured her nervously. “It actually doesn't smell too bad.”
“You are joking right?” Mary replied. “I can smell it from here and it stinks!”
“I've smelt a lot worse,” Tom lied, hoping to encourage her to do it again.
Mary furrowed her brow and was silent. She was a little taken back by her husband's response; if she'd farted on other person's face, they surely wouldn't be saying stuff like that. It was though he was complimenting her farts. She shook her head, thinking nothing of it and was about to continue when that feeling returned to her bowels again. It was so strong, so uncontrollable and she didn't think she'd be able to hold it in. “Tom,” she called.
“What is it love?” Tom replied, still discreetly inhaling the leftover gas. “Are we moving on now?”
“I think we need to get out of here.”
“What's wrong?”
“I have to fart again.”
Tom's jaw dropped and he moved in close to his wife's behind but without touching it; he tried to think of something he could say to make her feel comfortable. “Well surely we must be nearly there by now,” he said. “I don't mind you farting if you really can't hold it in, just make sure you hurry up and get moving.”
Mary was shocked once again; she didn't know whether to be freaked out or flattered by his words; in the end she went with the latter. “Well you did say it didn't bother you, but I'll do my best to keep it in if I can.”
“Okay, ready to carry on now?”
The gas in Mary's arse was really built up now; she had to release it. BBBBRRRRPPPP!!!! POOT! “Yeah,” she sighed, quickly moving on. “You okay back there?”
“Fine,” Tom called. He was more than fine; he was bursting with adrenaline as he sniffed up those bean smelling farts. He couldn't believe Mary had just done that to him, farted so boisterously up his nose like that. With any luck, he thought to himself, there'd be plenty more to come.
They carried on in the tunnel for another twenty minutes, with Mary occasionally letting rip a trump every now and then. Each time she apologised deeply to Tom, but he never seemed to care, always telling her that it smelled all right really. Mary actually found the whole situation discreetly funny and as time wore on, she farted more out of enjoyment than necessity. She'd thought that Tom was just lying about the smell to make her feel less embarrassed and that she was teaching him a lesson in honesty by farting constantly to see how far he'd take it. But still the smell didn't seem to bother him. He only groaned once, when she ripped a ten second fart that blorted like a fog horn and probably blew back his hair. Even then it was more out of surprise than anything else. In fact, Mary was certain there was a tone of pleasure in his groans, but that was stupid. No man got turned on by farts, did they?
“Are we almost there?” Tom asked at one point, desperate to get out of the cave and 'use the bathroom.'
“Why, is it too much back there?” Mary sneered a little.
“No, it's just that we've been hear for ages that's all. I'm starting to think your taking the long route so you can fart on me for longer.”
“I thought it didn't bother you,” Mary pointed out.
“It doesn't,” Tom replied. “I was just,” Prrrpphh! “Ohh.”
Mary chuckled to herself; she'd just released a soft, purring fart, one of those warm ones that have a strong, egg scent to them. She was about to make her snarky retort when at last she heard what Tom was doing behind her; sniffing her farty air.
“Are you sniffing my farts?”
Tom immediately stopped sniffing, his eyes opened wide in fear. “What are you talking about?” he feigned ignorance.
“Don't deny it!” Mary replied. “I just heard you! You were smelling my fart!”
“I don't know what you are talking about,” Tom lied unconvincingly.
“Oh my god!” Mary exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “You like my farts, don't you?”
“I don't-”
“Don't you?”
Tom was silent; he took a deep breath and told the truth. “Yes.”
Tom was not a particularly handsome man; at least he saw himself as an average Joe, particular when compared his his gorgeous wife. Mary was tall, plump with voluptuousness, whether it be her large breasts or the wonderful curves of her hips, or her soft, strong thighs and tight behind. She had a face to match her sumptuous body, with her glistening emerald gaze, innocent smile and of course, the long dark hair that fell passed her shoulders. Tom didn't want to lose a woman like her; he knew he could never get better and so for the time being, he kept his secret to himself.
Tom and Mary were out camping and as such, their main meal would have to be beans. This often led to a lot of farting from the both of them, something Mary couldn't put up with in a single tent so they slept separately. All night long Tom would lie awake, listening to Mary breaking wind with wild abandon and he liked it. He often masturbated just listening to it, wondering what it smelled like up close. He wished she'd fart like that when they were at home in bed together, but that was rare and the only other time she'd do it was when they were awake and he'd have to feign disgust rather than pleasure at her fragrant arse smells.
On that particular night, Mary didn't do much farting at all, so all that gas was pent up inside of her the following day, although she didn't feel anything until they'd arrived at their destination, a series of caves with several tight spaced passages that meant they'd have to go single file, crawling their way through. Mary foolishly decided that she'd go first, not realising yet that she'd soon need to release her gas, not also realising that Tom secretly wished she would fart, now that his face was so close to her large behind.
The tunnel went on for a while, when Mary felt a stirring in her bowels. “Oh crap,” she muttered to herself as the gas built up. She did her best to hold it in, stopping abruptly to clench her cheeks. Tom didn't notice that she'd stopped and carried on, eventually his face slapping against her butt. Before Tom could apologise, a short, loud “POOT” exploded from Mary's anus, right onto his face. Tom reeled back in shock, while Mary blushed with embarrassment.
“Oh god I'm so sorry Tom!” she cried. “I couldn't hold it in.”
Tom didn't know what to say; his wife had just farted on his face! He took a little whiff, only to grimace with displeasure at the dirty, sulphuric stink that he was encased in. At the same time his dick got erect and he found himself sniffing again. “It's okay,” he assured her nervously. “It actually doesn't smell too bad.”
“You are joking right?” Mary replied. “I can smell it from here and it stinks!”
“I've smelt a lot worse,” Tom lied, hoping to encourage her to do it again.
Mary furrowed her brow and was silent. She was a little taken back by her husband's response; if she'd farted on other person's face, they surely wouldn't be saying stuff like that. It was though he was complimenting her farts. She shook her head, thinking nothing of it and was about to continue when that feeling returned to her bowels again. It was so strong, so uncontrollable and she didn't think she'd be able to hold it in. “Tom,” she called.
“What is it love?” Tom replied, still discreetly inhaling the leftover gas. “Are we moving on now?”
“I think we need to get out of here.”
“What's wrong?”
“I have to fart again.”
Tom's jaw dropped and he moved in close to his wife's behind but without touching it; he tried to think of something he could say to make her feel comfortable. “Well surely we must be nearly there by now,” he said. “I don't mind you farting if you really can't hold it in, just make sure you hurry up and get moving.”
Mary was shocked once again; she didn't know whether to be freaked out or flattered by his words; in the end she went with the latter. “Well you did say it didn't bother you, but I'll do my best to keep it in if I can.”
“Okay, ready to carry on now?”
The gas in Mary's arse was really built up now; she had to release it. BBBBRRRRPPPP!!!! POOT! “Yeah,” she sighed, quickly moving on. “You okay back there?”
“Fine,” Tom called. He was more than fine; he was bursting with adrenaline as he sniffed up those bean smelling farts. He couldn't believe Mary had just done that to him, farted so boisterously up his nose like that. With any luck, he thought to himself, there'd be plenty more to come.
They carried on in the tunnel for another twenty minutes, with Mary occasionally letting rip a trump every now and then. Each time she apologised deeply to Tom, but he never seemed to care, always telling her that it smelled all right really. Mary actually found the whole situation discreetly funny and as time wore on, she farted more out of enjoyment than necessity. She'd thought that Tom was just lying about the smell to make her feel less embarrassed and that she was teaching him a lesson in honesty by farting constantly to see how far he'd take it. But still the smell didn't seem to bother him. He only groaned once, when she ripped a ten second fart that blorted like a fog horn and probably blew back his hair. Even then it was more out of surprise than anything else. In fact, Mary was certain there was a tone of pleasure in his groans, but that was stupid. No man got turned on by farts, did they?
“Are we almost there?” Tom asked at one point, desperate to get out of the cave and 'use the bathroom.'
“Why, is it too much back there?” Mary sneered a little.
“No, it's just that we've been hear for ages that's all. I'm starting to think your taking the long route so you can fart on me for longer.”
“I thought it didn't bother you,” Mary pointed out.
“It doesn't,” Tom replied. “I was just,” Prrrpphh! “Ohh.”
Mary chuckled to herself; she'd just released a soft, purring fart, one of those warm ones that have a strong, egg scent to them. She was about to make her snarky retort when at last she heard what Tom was doing behind her; sniffing her farty air.
“Are you sniffing my farts?”
Tom immediately stopped sniffing, his eyes opened wide in fear. “What are you talking about?” he feigned ignorance.
“Don't deny it!” Mary replied. “I just heard you! You were smelling my fart!”
“I don't know what you are talking about,” Tom lied unconvincingly.
“Oh my god!” Mary exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “You like my farts, don't you?”
“I don't-”
“Don't you?”
Tom was silent; he took a deep breath and told the truth. “Yes.”
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