As I sat on the edge of my bed, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. My fingers danced along my wet pussy, already primed for what was to come. The door to my room creaked open, and my breath hitched. It was him, my best friend since childhood. He stepped in, his eyes already drawn to the motion of my hand between my legs.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.
"Just getting myself ready," I replied, my voice equally hushed. "Want to join me?"
Without waiting for his answer, I spread my legs wider apart, inviting him to see what he was missing out on. To my surprise, he didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between us, his warm hand finding its way to my thigh. His fingertips brushed against my clit, sending shivers down my spine.
"Fuck, that feels good," he murmured, leaning in closer.
His breath was hot against my ear as he continued to tease my sensitive bud. I moaned loudly, unable to hold back the pleasure coursing through my body. This was different from anything we'd ever done before, but it felt so right.
"You know," he said, his voice low and husky, "I've always wondered what it would be like to fart while I'm doing this."
I chuckled quietly, surprised by his admission. "Well, if you want to try it, you better get ready," I replied with a smirk.
With that, he leaned forward, burying his face in my neck. His breath tickled my skin as he inhaled deeply. I watched with bated breath as he slowly pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Three," he counted down, "Two," his hand sliding further up my thigh, "One," and without warning, he let loose a loud fart. The stench was intense, but I couldn't help but laugh. He looked up at me, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Was that too much?" he asked, his eyes darting between mine.
"No, no," I reassured him, still giggling, "that was perfect."
From that moment on, our fingering session took on a whole new dimension. We found ourselves timing our movements, trying to coord
We found ourselves timing our movements, trying to coordinate our fingering with our farts. It was messy, it was silly, and it was the most fun we'd had in years. Every time he let one rip, I let out a moan of pleasure. And every time I reached orgasm, he followed suit with a satisfied smile.
By the end of the night, we were both exhausted but elated. We collapsed onto my bed, our limbs tangled together like a pair of kids who'd just discovered a new game.
"This," he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction, "was the best night ever."
I nodded in agreement, my thoughts still spinning from the sensory overload of the past few hours. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder how we could top this next time. Whatever it was, I knew it would be something truly special.
