I was pissed. The Cavs had lost to Golden State, and my boyfriend - bless his heart - couldn't contain his excitement. He thought my frustration was hilarious and began to gloat, rubbing it in my face as he laughed. I mean, seriously? It wasn't funny!
But then an idea struck me. If he wanted to play games, I'd show him just how funny I thought it was. So, as he continued to taunt me, I casually made my way over to the bed and lay down on top of him, pinning him beneath me. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I pulled out a roll of duct tape and began binding his wrists together behind his back.
"What are you doing?" he asked, struggling against the tape.
"You'll see," I smiled wickedly.
Next, I pulled out a ball gag from the drawer and fit it tightly into his mouth, using more duct tape to make sure it stayed in place. By now, he was completely at my mercy - and boy, did I intend to make him regret it.
"I guess you thought you had me pegged as a loser, huh?" I asked, smirking down at him. "Well, turns out I'm cleaning up on all these concession stand snacks you bought for me, and my ass is just dying to let them out."
I placed one cheeky hand on my ass cheek and felt the warmth still radiating from the nachos and burritos I'd devoured earlier. My other hand slipped discreetly underneath the duvet, giving the throbbing bundle of nerves beneath me a gentle rub.
"Here's the thing," I continued, straddling his chest with my thighs. "Your face is about to get an intimate look at just how much my body loves those tasty treats. And trust me, you don't want to miss this show."
Slowly, I lowered myself onto his face, feeling the crinkle of the duvet beneath our combined weight. His cheeks squished as I lowered my ass until they were grazing against his nose. I paused there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of control.
"Oh, and by the way," I added, giggling to myself. "I haven't farted yet. So, yeah, your face is about to be my personal toilet bowl."
With that, I shifted my weight slightly, letting the first unexpected blast loose. It shook his entire body, and I could hear the distinct sound of surprise escaping through his nose.
"Mmm, that's what I thought you'd say," I purred, grinding my hips back and forth, taking pleasure in the way his face contorted with every fart. "Now, try telling me how they smell."
I laughed heartily as I continued to expel a stream of intimate gases onto his upturned face. It wasn't until I'd launched more than half a dozen blasts that I finally paused, letting him catch his breath.
"Still think my farts are funny, baby?" I asked, smiling at his groan of dissent. "Because honestly, you don't need air. My farts are your air now."
I stood up from his prone body, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over me. My ass cheeks still tingled from the release, but I knew exactly how to make them feel better. With one last wicked grin, I leaned down and blew a long, lingering raspberry directly onto his exposed cock.
"Tastes like victory," I chuckled, before turning away and leaving him there, bound and gagged on the bed, the stench of my farts filling the room.
