Fart Fetish Stories Novels & Stories

Michael started spending more nights out with the guys, leaving me alone at home with our daughter Sophie, my body humming with unmet need. One Friday night, while Michael was off playing cards and the house was quiet after I'd tucked Sophie in, boredom and horniness collided. I opened my laptop and, heart racing, clicked into a chat room labeled F4F. When the others learned I was straight but curious, the messages flooded in—bold, filthy offers to be my first, to devour me in ways I'd only fantasized about. Their aggression both thrilled and scared me. Relief washed over me when I saw none lived within 500 miles. Still, their stories poured in: vivid tales of their own first times or detail

She listened to him and took them off slowly She felt so weird even if they were in a private room Then he glided his hands down her laps until her found her sweet pot and caressed it …he felt her getting wet already “Look who’s wet already “ She then felt her face flame immediately He then told her to shift back and spread her thighs “Are you crazy,what if someone enters” “Dont worry nobody would” She then stared at him skeptically And then widened her thighs The he bent and used his tongue to flip her clit

“He’s so weak in bed. Two seconds and he’s done. That’s it. The dildos help a little, but it’s not the same as real dick. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” I went quiet after that, feeling embarrassed but also a little lighter for saying it out loud. May looked at me carefully, then squealed softly. “Babe, there's more, you’re hiding something. Did you meet someone ?Tell me.” I rolled my eyes, my face burning. “Don’t judge me, okay?” I sighed deeply. “You know uh Zain’s son, Hunter? He’s been staying with us for a week. He keeps bringing different girls home. I’ve had to listen to their loud screaming and moaning. And...and it's uhh..It’s made me so wet, May. So fucking wet. I keep wishing it

She giggles like a little girl. “You are fun. Saying no but wanting more and more.” “No.. I don’t want more… I will die of laughter,” I complained. “For God’s sake, let me sleep. I have a meeting tomorrow.” I tell her and she finally stops. “Okay. I will stop now,” she says, breathing heavily and we lay in bed in silence. “What else comes with F?” I ask her. The word ‘forced’ alarmed me a little. She hums.”I don’t remember everything but… flogging, figging, forced masturbation, forced nudity, fantasy rape, fisting.” I blanch at last two words. Definitely a big no for me.

I breathed his perfume, so fresh and sweet, that it made me thirsty, desperate for anything he could offer me. I would have, willingly, knelt at your feet and begged for attention. Letting him caress my hair, like his dear pet, in the same way a man did with the girl between his legs, while she touched his penis gently. Even if it screamed against everything I believed or took as my life route, I would have surrendered. Not least because admitting my fetishes out loud were nothing of what I insisted on hiding. He was my fetish. Everything in it. It took me too long to find an answer that didn't sound according to my mental confusion, and Zachary added:

My breath comes out in short rapid bursts, I squeeze my eyes shut, moaning while he stretches my ass hole open. My breasts slap the table, he doesn't stop, he continues to fuck me hard, brutally, while I scream like a sex starved idiot. Sweat clings to my skin, trailing down my body freely, my best friend’s father takes care of my hole in the best way. He steps back a little and walks over to the bed, then he sits, his legs are sprawled out, his cock bathed in my wetness. “Come over here and plant your ass on my dick,” he utters.

The mix of our arousal impregnates the air around us. Impregnate. He has a breeding kink; he’s fetish is to cum inside me and watch his seed run down my legs. He hasn’t use a condom with me, is not like we are going to catch a disease or get pregnant, so bareback it is. It felt oddly good, yet something within me tells me this is all wrong.

A hunger neither of them had spoken aloud until recently. It started with late-night conversations whispered in the dark. Fantasies. The idea of a threesome came not from desperation, but from something shared and genuine, a desire to deepen their bond, to explore edges of themselves they hadn't touched before. And yes, they had kids, but this wasn’t about escaping routine. It was about reconnecting with each other, differently.

“You’ve… done this before?” His laugh was low and filthy, his eyes darkening as they held hers. “Since I was seventeen. Older women are my thing. Married ones especially. They’re always so pent up, so grateful when you give them what their husbands won’t. They come harder, beg louder, do things they’d never admit to in the daylight.”

He looked powerful, untouched by the sickness that had taken his brother. He crawled back over me, his knees forcing my thighs wide. He positioned the wet, blunt head of his cock at my pussy entrance, rubbing it against my clit in slow, rhythmic circles that had me clawing at the sheets, my toes curling into the silk. "Tell me you want it," he commanded, his jaw tight as he fought for his own control. "Tell me you want your husband’s brother inside you." "I want you," I screamed, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him. "I want you inside me, Richard! Now!"