The gym receptionist’s gassy arse

 

The gym receptionist’s gassy arse

This is a true story the picture on this blog is of the girls actual bum in tight trousers she let me take a picture said I could write about my experience if she was left un- named its in a gym in the Leeds area won’t name the gym just in case , I work as assistant manager in the gym it was a Tuesday a few months ago when this first happened now I cant get enough . The girl lets call her Katy had been working behind reception for 6 months , blonde about 5 feet 8 and a backside to die for just look at the picture , the trousers she wore most days went right up her arse, some days you could see faint knicker lines also I was obsessed with her arse. Some of the other receptionist all girls had been complaining katy was disappearing to the toilet to many times and leaving them to cover the reception on their own.

I told the other receptionists ill work with Katy for a week and see what was going on , to be honest having the opportunity to look at her arse for a week wasn’t the bad of a deal .

The first day she had on the trousers in the picture but she had on some tight little knickers underneath so the view in picture but with faint knicker line , she asked me why I was covering on reception and I said it’s because I just came out with it the other staff were moaning that she was disappearing a lot to go to the toilet like up to 15 times most days . She started saying she had a bladder problem and apologised that she had been t the doctors and they were testing to see what the issue was but hadn’t discovered it yet , what could I say couldn’t fire her for having medical issues. As the girls said she did keep going to the toilet , I had a customer come in with an issue and keep katy at the desk as long as they could so she could not go to the toilet for at least an hour this was the second day she had the tight trousers and what looked like some high cut tight knickers as the lines were faint but obvious , I was doing something behind the reception I had a good view of her arse it was divine .

Here is another picture , the trouser look like her arse is eating them  

 

 

The customers would not stop talking then I could see katy start moving from one foot to another I thought it was to hold her bladder, but I could not believe it she turned round and said could I take over she really needed the toilet. I couldn’t really say no so said OK as she left the back of the desk as hissy airy fart escaped her bum through the trousers and knickers. She then was basically fast walking to the staff toilet that was only 30 metres away, when she later that day admitted what the problem really was, she told me that farts were escaping her arse one after another as she fast walked to the toilet. I managed to dismiss the customer as the reception smelled of rotten eggs, Katy was gone for at least 8 minutes before she came back red faced with embarrassment. I said don’t be embarrassed do you want to come to my office we can speak privately I got one of the other girls to cover the desk and we went into my office and closed the door. Katy sat in the chair next to me and started crying she said that this is why she was always going to the toilet so often, the last few years she was suffering with some kind of IBS, and the doctors had tried everything to help her relieve it but nothing was working and it was ruining her life. She said her stomach was constantly producing hot gas and she could hold onto it for a maximum of 30 minutes before she was so desperate to far it would just escape if she didn’t go to the ladies’ room to fart. She mentioned that the flatulence consistently had a rotten egg Odor and was emitted as quiet hissing sounds and they were super warm in her knickers. I said that to be honest the thought of that hot gas coming out of her bum was a super turn on, we were speaking candidly so had to say it. She said really you like it I said as we were speaking openly, I did really like it I told he that I couldn’t keep my eyes of her bum since she had started and to now find out it was full of hot farts was like a dream for me. I said I had a week with her left I was happy for her to fart behind the desk so I could smell it , in the day was limited clients near the desk so she could fart and we could spray the area after I had enjoyed the fart .

THE DATE......

 

 

 

 

Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man ...of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).

It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That’s when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good.

He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.

We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?

That’s when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.

On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks. Then I realized …

My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

HOW DO YOU TELL A MAN YOU JUST STARTED DATING, THAT THE REASON YOU ARE WRITHING IN PAIN IS BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO FART.

The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.

“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?

Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.

People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.

Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).

“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.

“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”

“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.

“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.

It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.

Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.

We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.

He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.

I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.

Then I heard it. Rob’s voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.

“Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.

“Ok, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

toot toot splatter ungodly noise

“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there. I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay, are you sure you’re …”

“I’m fine! Get away from the door!”

This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!

Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I’d hear from him. I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.

But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we’re married and he’s lying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me.

Interviewing ten girls about the best leggings to fart in Girl 2 Imagine

 

 

 

 

Girl 2 this one Blimy what a girl

She came in wearing tight pink vanquish scrunch bum yoga pants with a panty line, she had some kind of tanga panty underneath, her name was Imagin she was a petite blond with a very pert backside, for her size it really poked out in the shorts. She came in was very confident immediately asked to use the toilet and giggled that she really needed to fart. I said please just fart as the whole interview was about that anyway , she said it will stink are you sure I said yes go ahead , she pushed and a hot airy woosh of gas squirted into the panties and shorts , the hot smell of poo filled the room , she apologised and asked where I wanted her to sit . I told her to sit on the chair behind the table and told her that the interview would last 10 minutes, it was about her farting habits and clothing whilst in the gym, I said once she was ready, she could start, and the timer would go on .

Imagin said before setting the timer she would explain a little of her background, but I was ok still to film this part. She said she was 23 and rented a one-bedroom flat as she had fell out with her mum who was a single parent and left home at 22 and the reason why was embarrassing and stupid to be honest but when she had told her previous boyfriend he had found it erotic. She said that she had some kind of problem with her stomach, she had tried all different foods , medication everything but her stomach was always full to the brim with gas and she had a fart ready every time she pushed , like every time , she said she could hold onto them if she really tried for ten minutes then she would have to let one go to relieve the pressure on her arsehole . In fact, she said need the toilet now. I told her to just let them go and that I had a fetich for them hence this project. She lent slightly backwards and farted through the shorts, so the fart escaped between her legs, her farts smelled of fresh poo. Ok back to the story she said ooops so sorry they stink don’t they. Between the ages of 16 and 22 the issue started it was 2 things one was the smell , I tried going to the toilet to fart as much as I could but needing to constantly fart doesn’t make that realistic so a lot of them she was letting go wherever she was in the house , in her bedroom it was ok she could open a window and just keep pushing them out , sometimes she could fart 30 times in 2 hours , double what most people farted in a day , but the house stunk of her farts all over, she farted in the kitchen , dining room hallway , her mum would say Imagine how can we live like this the house smells of poo around the clock , how can I invite anyone . Imagine lent back and farted through her yoga shorts again, hot woosh of stinky air. I told my mother I couldn’t help it, that’s when I had visited doctors, but nothing worked. The second thing was her knickers, all the farting was putting thick brown skid marks in them , her mum was disgusted when she went to the dirty washing basket and found all her knickers with stains, but Imagine said that all the farting also made her pussy very wet so not only did they have a long brown skid mark but crusty pussy juice stains and they just smelled filthy . Her mum said she would throw the knickers in the bin and make Imagine buy new ones every week. I then had to start washing them myself; to be honest they smelled of arse and pussy so should have given my mum a break, but it just made me annoyed.

I realise now how unreasonable I had been but now I was washing my own dirty knickers I though I would get my own back , so I started wearing a t-shirt that covered the top half of my arse and just panties around the house , I would sit on the armchair with my legs slight open so you could see my knicker gusset and every time I needed to fart which was often I would lean back so my knickers would show more and push the fart out the front of my tight drawers , My mum would look at me in disgust and spray the room sometimes just watching tv I would fart like this 10 times , my pussy was very wet and the front of the knickers were getting see through . Then I would go and eat and whilst washing up would poke my arse out and fart through my knickers making my mum very angry especially as my pussy was glistening with moisture through the knickers and a brown skid mark was coming through .

 TO BE CONTINUED