By: SachaWuss
My girlfriend was doing an internship on the other side of the country, and I hadn’t seen her in two months. We couldn’t wait to reunite, but since I didn’t have a car or much driving experience, she arranged a carpool for me through a website. The ride was with Tasha, a girl from India, who was heading to the city where my girlfriend lives.
I slid into Tasha’s car, regretting the decision the moment my ass hit the seat. Her thighs spilled over the sides, a family-sized bag of Indian snacks already in her lap, her fingers sticky with the remnants of whatever curry-stained garbage she’d been shoveling into her gullet before I arrived. Crumbs dusted her stained shirt, and the air was thick with the scent of stale curry, body odor and something sour-like fermented milk left in the sun.
“You gonna eat the whole bag?” I nodded at the family-sized pack of masala chips clutched in her sausage fingers.
Tasha didn’t even glance up. “You gonna bitch the whole drive?”
I shrugged and leaned back against the sticky seat. After a while, still amazed by how much she was eating, I said, “Damn, Tash, you’re gonna need a bigger seat soon.”
She glared at me, her piggy eyes narrowing. “You think you’re funny, huh?”. Then, without a word, she swerved onto the shoulder, killing the engine.
Before I could react, she was out of the driver’s seat, yanking me into the back with terrifying strength. My head cracked against the window as she shoved me down, her bulk pinning me effortlessly. Then she returned to her seat and restarted the car.
“Since you love running your mouth,” she growled, popping the button on her jeans, “let’s see how you handle my exhaust.”
Then it happened.
A wet, gurgling explosion ripped from her ass, vibrating through the seat and straight into my face. The stench was unholy-rotten eggs and cheap idian food. I gagged, my eyes burning, my stomach heaving.
“Three more hours till the next stop,” she crooned. “You’re smelling this the whole way.”
I tried to fight. Tried to hold my breath. But every gasp just filled my lungs deeper with her sweat, her stench, the lingering reek of her last meal fermenting in her guts. But as the hours ticked by, I found myself growing accustomed to the stench. It became a part of me, a constant presence that I couldn’t escape.
By the time we pulled into the motorway service area, I was a wreck. My hair was matted with sweat, and my clothes clung to my skin. Tasha finally released me from her fart prison, and I stumbled out of the car, gasping for fresh air.
But relief was short-lived. As soon as I stepped onto the pavement, Tasha grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the restrooms. I struggled against her, but her grip was like iron.
Tasha dragged me into the restroom, her grip like a vise. The second the door locked, she shoved me to my knees, her jeans dropping to reveal acres of dimpled, sweat-slicked ass.
“Where are we going?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.
She grinned at me. “You’ll see.”
In the restroom, Tasha locked the door behind us and turned to face me. With a swift motion, she shimmied out of her jeans, exposing her massive, dimpled ass. The stench was overwhelming, a putrid mix of unwashed skin and stale food.
“Open up,” she ordered, spreading her cheeks.
I shook my head. “Fuck no
”
SLAP! Her palm cracked across my face, leaving my cheek burning. Then her phone was in my face, a picture of my girlfriend, smiling, innocent, oblivious, on the screen.
“She’s waiting for you, huh?” Tasha purred. “Bet she’d love to see how you’re spending your trip.”
My blood ran cold. I couldn’t let her send that to my girlfriend. I had no choice.
I sank to my knees, my stomach churning with revulsion as I pressed my face against Tasha’s ass. The heat was immediate, the damp cotton of her panties pressing against my nose and mouth. I gagged, her, but she held me in place with her massive thighs.
Then the first fart ripped.
A wet, bubbling blast that seeped through the fabric, filling my mouth with the taste of rotten eggs and cheap gas station burritos. I screamed, my voice muffled against her ass, but Tasha just laughed.
Then she removed her panties and spread her ass cheeks. Mi nose was caressing her sweaty asshole
“That’s it,” she crooned, grinding her ass against my face. “Take it all in.”
Her asshole was boiling against my face, the stench so thick I could taste it, sour, rancid, like death and spice. I choked as she pushed back, her fat cheeks smothering me, her sweat dripping into my mouth.
Then “BBBRRRRRTTTTTT” a hot, liquid fart bubbled against my lips, flooding my mouth with the taste of her. I screamed, but it was muffled, useless.
She farted again and again. I wanted to fight, to push her away, but my body betrayed me. The stench filling my lungs and coating my tongue, I felt a strange sensation building in my groin. My cock stiffened, pressing against my jeans as Tasha’s ass enveloped my face.
“Look at you,” she said, peering over her shoulder. “Getting hard from my farts. You’re pathetic.”
Tasha grinded down harder. “Bet your precious girlfriend’s ass doesn’t stink like this, huh?”
I thought of her, soft, sweet, clean, and shame burned through me hotter than Tasha’s filth.
“I… I don’t know,” I gasped. “I’ve never… I’ve never smelled hers.”
Tasha cackled, her whole body shaking. “Pathetic! She doesn’t even let you?” She leaned back, her asshole glistening in front of me. “Then this is the closest you’ll ever get to a real woman.”
I wanted to deny it, to tell her that I hated every second of this, but it would have been a lie. The fetid smell, the taste of her ass on my tongue, the way she ground against me, using me like a toy – it was all too much. I was lost in a haze of disgust and desire, my mind clouded with the stench of her.
Another fart squelched out, and my cock twitched in my pants.
No. No, no, NO!
But it was too late.
Tasha saw.
“Ohhh, REMI,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock pity. “You’re enjoying this?” She reached back, slapping my trapped face with her ass. “Your girlfriend’s gonna love these pics.”
Tasha’s phone camera clicked, and I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that my humiliation was now forever captured on film. My girlfriend would see this, would know the depths of my depravity.
“Smile,” Tasha crooned, angling the screen.
I couldn’t look at the picture, couldn’t bear to see the evidence of my own debasement. But as Tasha’s farts continued to fill my mouth, as her ass ground against my face, I knew that this was only the beginning. She had me now, completely under her control. And there was nothing I could do to stop her.
I was ruined.
And the worst part?
I deserved it.