My Big Fat Farty Friend 4 : Festive Farts - Sex Stories

My Big Fat Farty Friend 4 : Festive Farts

I love Christmas. I love the presents, giving and receiving, I love catching up with folks and friends, I love lazing in front of the TV watching movies I've seen a dozen times before already and all the festive specials, but most of all I love the food. Christmas Day saw me blitz everything on my plate. As is tradition I go back to the folks where mum lays on all the trimmings; turkey, roasted potatoes, mash potatoes, carrots and turnips, stuffing, pigs in blankets, parsnips and of course sprouts. Not many people like sprouts. They kind of endure them for Christmas because its tradition. But I love 'em. And they make me fart like Satan's hound! So naturally I devoured everything at lunch and drank wine, beers and Jack Daniels before the long and enjoyable day drew to a close. I may have even had a few turkey sandwiches and some nibbles too of course hehe My Boxing Day tradition is to catch up with a few mates I know from my training days. What normally happens is we go out early evening for a few drinks and a catch up and get in long before any of us turn into pumpkins, mainly because a few of my girls now have little 'uns, bless 'em. As soon as I woke up Boxing Day morning I was looking forward to going out and I spent an age in the bath in the afternoon (making a few bubbles I must admit, whoops!) before getting dressed for my night out. I was wearing black leggings - or what I like to call my sausage casings hehe - a big flouncy leopard print top, big looped earrings and ...

... a sparkly hairband. I finished the outfit off with my nice wintry coat with its fur trim and I was good to go. I must say, my digestive system was being kind to me whilst I was out; I only did a couple of farts and the girls either didn't notice or didn't mind - they've known me long enough now anyway! But this didn't last. The sprouts would have their revenge! It took me a bit to get a cab out on the snowy streets of Boxing Day evening. But eventually it arrived, the driver being one of the ugliest blokes I have ever seen! He had a permanent scowl on his pinched features and a thick neanderthal forehead that was covered in purple pimples beneath a baseball cap. "Cheer up," I called out breezily as I climbed into the back of the black cab "It's Christmas!" He grunted a reply. "Christmas ain't nothin' to me luv, just means more work" Great, I thought, trust me to get Scrooge. Settling in, I told him where I lived and retrieved my mobile to send a text to my mate Mark (who runs this profile you're reading this on!) to arrange our little get together for the following day. As the cab drove through the night I could feel my stomach grumbling as the pressure began to build up down on my back sphincter. Oh-uh, I thought. Here they come. I gently eased up my fleshy right cheek, putting all the weight on my leftie and, focusing on the effort, pushed out a fart. Pft It was a fluff. A real airy one. Not much to write home about and I soon settled back in waiting for Mark to text back. ...