“Oh my goodness!” she said and she started to cry. “I am so sorry. I’ve been holding that all night and I did that at the worst time. I’m so embarrassed.”
“It’s okay. Are you done?” Will asked inquisitively.
“I’m not sure,” she said. A slow hiss eased out as she sat up.
Will walked over to the table and kissed her mouth. It was a kiss that showed her how much he really wanted her. He wasn’t going to let a little—or a lot—of gas spoil their night even though it stank really bad.
She leaned back down as they kissed. Their tongues entangled in her mouth and she tasted her own juices. With her head resting on the table, she reached over and undid his pants and pulled them down. She moaned as she saw the protrusion of his excitement trying to free itself from his Fruit of the Looms. The smell of cologne was on his midriff and she stroked his swelling through the fabric with her fingers, making him smile. She lowered his underwear and he popped out right in front of her face. Will reached forward and caressed her breasts. The skin of her chest was like flower petals. The small bumps around her nipples were still soft even though her nipples had risen to his touch. Her beauty was undiminished as the smell dissipated. She had a perfect body, dying to be worshiped. While he moved his hands across her breasts, she lowered her head and slid him into her mouth and wrapped her tongue around him. Will was almost beyond pleasure. He slowly withdrew himself, then eased back in, as if making love to her wet, warm mouth. He looked down to see her red lips purse as he pulled out.
Will had seen this in movies and the feelings were so erotic he was almost insane with desire. With every deep stroke he grasped her breasts tight in his hands. His hand moved and found the sweet spot between her legs. A river of juices flowed; she was as aroused as he was. Leanne opened her legs wider to let Will slide his fingers between the lips of her pussy. The more he played between her legs, the harder she sucked his cock. He suddenly stopped and felt his stomach tighten then he erupted.
Now men do this all the time. Mostly as a way of showing off but, like Leanne, he’d been holding it in for a while. Now if hers was an 8 on a scale of ten, his was definitely a 9. (A 10 makes you puke so it wasn’t a 10.) Anyway, with him still inside Leanne’s warm mouth, she mumbled for him to get out because she couldn’t breath. A bead of saliva dripped off Will as he pulled his throbbing member free and stood with his pants around his ankles and a hard-on.
They were both surprised for a moment. They tried not to laugh. But then it overcame them and they could hardly contain themselves. With each belly laugh they would cut loose another fart, making the moments even more hilarious. The smell was atrocious and Leanne sprayed perfume on her muff and in the crease of her ass to cover the aroma. Will put some down the front of his underwear to help with the smell too.
Will told her about how in college the guys would light their farts when they were drinking. Leanne laughed and asked Will to show her. So in the tradition of his fraternity, he did. The first attempt was rather lame. A little gasser that only made the candle glow brighter. The next one was pretty good. Leanne felt braver and they decided to do one together as a joke. Now it was a great idea, but sometimes the best-laid plans aren’t always smart.
When Will held the candle between their legs he’d forgotten about the perfume on her pubis. As she hissed out a little silent but deadly fart, she stopped and breathed in and her pubic hair caught fire. When she screamed, she forced out a burst of gas and blew the flames onto Will’s perfume soaked pubic hair, which ignited.
In the hospital, the talk of the floor was the couple in room 203. Leanne had third degree burns on her labia, and her pubic hair had burned clean off, which made her itch constantly. Plus the ointment burned when she put it on. The skin grafts on Will’s nuts would make everything like new but the doctor said the hair might not grow back. At least they got to room together.
The Affair
Her eyes teared as she restrained herself from crying out from the sheer passion of the moment. Love’s purest form of expression was causing her both emotional pain and extreme physical pleasure, confusing her feelings. As she kissed his forehead, a cry of deep ecstasy left her, and the sweltering heat inside her was filled with the pulsing fluid of their sex. This was her darkest desire.
They’d met a few months ago on the Internet, having what her friends called a “cyber” relationship. The chat rooms became their sanctuary—a place to share not only their hidden selves, but also dreams, desires, and fantasies. They’d spent hours chatting after their first discussion. They had common likes and dislikes and it seemed to open them up to each other like kindred spirits.
This was their first real meeting. They kissed deep and long. Her hair fell forward as he leaned back. The strands brushed against them as she kissed his chest. She released him from her shaved, wet pussy and lowered her head to his tightening stomach. Her long, auburn hair almost covered his chest and her tongue became a pen, drawing along every muscle indentation on his flexing abdomen. She deliberately licked along the sides of his manhood, watching it grow. Her mouth took in the tip and she sucked it, tasting his cum. Her own wetness was still glistening on it and the taste of her pussy lingering on his skin made her even hornier.
Everything about him made her hot, but it was his words that had first attracted her to him. He was different, more real and honest, but mainly more erotic to her. She slowly gave him the pleasure of her mouth, caressing the length of his shaft, sliding it in deeply. She h
eard him moan and felt him move his hands over his head, enjoying the feeling of her mouth and tongue wrapped around his cock. And she remembered their first Internet meeting in the chat rooms.
*****
She was becoming accustomed to the barrage of men wanting private, dirty chats and giving rude instructions about wanting her to suck cock or fuck. She didn’t like how blunt the men were but she experimented, talking to them as if she were a phone sex girl. She never really got anything out of it except the knowledge that her words alone got them off. She couldn’t bring herself to the point of masturbating to someone else’s words. It seemed too intimate.
One lonely Friday night, she was about to log off when she noticed an unfamiliar nickname in the room, Guest492. He was new and didn’t have a clue about what was going on so she helped him. She taught him the essentials like word shortcuts and how to pick a nickname. The one he picked instantly intrigued her: SlowJam. To some it was no big deal, but she loved music and slow R&B always made her relax and feel sensual. Her own was a perfect fit: Nightfire. She was a night owl.
As time passed, they continued to chat and became friends. They never talked about each other’s significant others because they both felt that this was their special, secret Garden of Eden. They had discussed meeting each other sometime or maybe having lunch or whatever. But they were afraid to take it to the next level since they were both married. Until one dark, rainy night, she was sitting at her computer watching people chat and flirt and jabber incoherently and her mind wandered. She found herself caressing her breasts. She had masturbated before to ease her heartache since she hadn’t seen her husband in quite a few days. Her husband was a computer software salesman and traveled a lot. He took care of her well money wise, but she needed physical attention and being alone so much made her doubt her own attractiveness.
Her body wasn’t perfect, but it was attractive. People complimented her on it but not the man who needed to tell her. She’d been feeling a little down lately, but for some reason she felt different tonight. Her body seemed more alive, more sensitive, and it made her uncomfortable. She had a deep itch that needed to be scratched. She had small firm breasts and tonight they were very aroused. Her nipples were taut and tented the fabric. And she squirmed in her chair with arousal, which made them rub against the silk.
Her heart jumped when she saw his name enter the chat room.
After they’d both exchanged the usual gibberish about the weather, their day, and other inconsequential things, he asked her if she was alone. Her heart beat hard and her thighs tensed. She told him she was alone and described her dark purple sleep shirt and frilly white underwear. His deafening silence made her wonder what he was thinking. She was becoming increasingly aroused by her own thoughts.
“Do you want to play?” he asked.
They’d never explored this possibility before, but her loneliness and arousal prompted her to answer, “Yes.” This was new and she was torn, feeling she was cheating on her husband by doing this. She told him.
He said it was just pleasuring herself with the aid of another’s words. She wasn’t sleeping with another person, or having someone else touch her. She was using her fantasies and imagination to get herself off. That did not make her feel better, but his answer made her realize how badly she wanted to share this with him.
She pulled her leg up against her chest as she sat in the desk chair. The tightening of her underwear outlined the creases of her labia and pressed against her pussy, moistening it even more.
“Touch your breasts,” he said.
Reluctantly she did, sending a breathless rush through her body as she cupped her breasts in her palms and her erect nipples tightened. The tingling feeling in her body made her melt into the chair. She stopped to type, “OK.”