I was giving head to my girlfriend, and then moved a bit lower. I had my tongue inside her anus, and I'm rubbing her clit with my hand. I can tell she is going to cum soon because her sphincter is pulsating around my tongue. I ramp up my tongue-fucking and really go at it on her clit. And then, all of a sudden...
It might as well been a land mine for the effect it had. Two things happened simultaneously. My cheeks bloated up like a balloon, and a vibration, nay an explosion, happened around my tongue - that was up her ass. You know how sometimes when something completely unexpected happens it takes a moment for you to figured out what just transpired? It was like that. As it processed in my brain what had happened, I realized:
She just farted in my mouth. In My Mouth. This is NOT one of my fetishes. I do not enjoy the taste of farts.
I exhaled the gaseous pressure that inflated my cheeks and rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth to ensure it was still attached. I looked up from between her crotch. We locked eyes, like a deer in headlights, and then...
Broke up hysterically. We couldn't take it. We must have laughed at least 5 minutes. I couldn't help myself, I kept repeating this mantra, "Dude! You just farted in my mouth."
She was very sorry and embarrassed. Mortified would be a more accurate term. I can't help but laugh at the whole thing. It's so absurd.
"Did I just fart in your mouth?" she shyly asked.
"Yes. Yes you did," I replied, my head still vibrating from the explosion.
"I'm so sorry," she offered.
There are many things one never considers as you go through life, day to day. One of those things, for me, was that it is possible for someone to fart in your mouth.
One time i went down on a girl and noticed there was a chunk. Of what I don't know. I started to gag then spit it out. She asked what's wrong and I told her what happened. She just shrugged and asked if I was done down there.
My sexual career started when I was 16 and was great until right before I turned 18 and basically got cut off from sex. I had a two-year dry spell, I forgot what it even felt like.
This is all just context, so you understand exactly where I am now that I have a girlfriend who has never had sex with anyone else and decided that we were finally ready.
I don't know how long the first time lasted, but I know it wasn't long enough. Not like: Oh man, 5 minutes? That's short! I mean really REALLY pathetically short. I hadn't had sex in two years! What can you expect? Better than what I did I suppose, but I hadn't gotten the easy one off, and some other excuses you won't believe.
So she looks at me with earnest eyes, looks down, coughs. I'm standing there trying to regain some shred of dignity and she says the worst thing possible: "Does that really count?"
I'd like to be able to reconcile with saying that our next session was better and I'm totally a man now, but it's actually worse. So I might as well share it, right?
Well the next date, I decide to be classy and take her out to a nice dinner to set the mood, maybe watch a cheesy movie and then get to business. The problem was, I was getting over a recent stomach thing. The second we start into our dinner, I can feel the imminent throw-up coming. I manage to excuse myself before spewing chunks all over the place's bathroom. She didn't realize I was still a bit sick so I played that off well. The rest of the dinner is fine, the movie was cheesy and romance was in the air! Not really.
Cut to me not able to get hard, fever making me sweaty and tired. I spent almost an hour rubbing my flaccid penis against her trying to have some sort of sex that I just couldn't figure out.
She was really nice about the whole thing, and I had gone down on her previously so she wasn't in a bad mood. God, I really do feel bad for that girl, no idea why she's still with me. Oh well, I'm sure I'll have more stories after the next date.
After losing my virginity (the whole affair was obviously awkward), I asked her if she came.
Her reaction was awkward enough for this thread. Just a pause, slight eye roll and "uhhh... no not really."
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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