Friday Night Smell
by SellCon2762

Or: Why Girls shouldn’t be allowed to play Football

“Ten seconds left in the fourth quarter. Westbrook is down five and has to go 60 yards with no timeouts left. Kyle Warner is likely going to have to throw it deep to give the Huskies any chance to win.” The radio announcer says as the Westbrook High School Huskies huddle together out in the middle of the football field. With the football located on the 40 yard line of their own territory they prepare for what would likely be the last play of the game. They are out of timeouts and have to score to win the school’s Homecoming game over rival Eastbrook High School. As Kyle begins to consult with his teammates the crowd is quick to see that the offense has a new member among their on-field personnel, a 16-year old girl named Angela Martin.

Angela had waited a long time for this moment. Dressed in the standard football uniform, pads and everything, she stood at a height of 5’8, roughly similar to that of her fellow male players. Her brown hair flowed down past the bottom of her purple helmet covering up part of her name on the back of her jersey. Wearing the number 32 her jersey looked pretty much the same as with everyone else, with a massive chest plate protecting her mummeries, luckily she wasn’t that busty. Below, she had a tight butt, bigger than about any other players, she knew people looked at it, the tight white pants didn’t help, but it was part of the uniform, she demanded no special treatment in what she wore. Her breathe could be seen in the nippy autumn air as the other players started to strategize about what their final play would be.

Of course, Angela had been strategizing her entire life to play football. Watching the game from early on with her father and brothers, she soon became one of those girls who liked the harder played games. She did not fancy the cute dresses or dolly like toys her other friends would play with; she liked it dirty, gritty and tough. She admired a game, especially football, that depended on strategy, like a chess game with each side moving its pieces back and forth to create the perfect play to win. Angela had played the game for a youth group at her local church where the other coaches were quite amazed at her performance. But like everyone else, it was only because of her gender status. Her play was always considered great…for a girl. Time and time again, people would tell her not to play. It’s a guy’s sport, it’s a rough sport, and it’s dangerous. Luckily her father was behind her all the way, even her brothers, her mother was horrified but that was females for you, her friends thought she was plain nuts.

Then, she tried out for her high school’s freshman football team….and she made it. She didn’t play any minutes but she got to watch the action from up close and explore how the guys would play. Originally they wanted her to be a kicker, as most girls who played football were. But she knew that her legs were meant for something else besides lobbing balls upwards between the uprights, and that something else was running. She ran track and field in the spring and competed in the long-distance races for her team. Running gave her a truer calling on the football team, running back. Her time on the freshman team though had given her enough experience that she joined the junior varsity team her next year. That time, she was actually given a few opportunities to run with the ball, only a few yards here and there, they used her primarily in garbage time when the team had nothing to gain late in the game. Still, it was her first on-field experience and she valued it. As did her teammates, they admired her spirit and were impressed with her behavior. In nearly every aspect she was the female Rudy Ruettiger.

Then, in her junior year, she had done enough to impress the head coach to join the varsity team and her teammates supported her all the way. Still, she was a backup running back and the guy in front of her was a star, he she was mesmerized by how he was able to drill holes through the defense even when it wasn’t possible. There would be a wall of players and he broke through them like the Kool-Aid man. He helped her out on her gameplay and she learned well from him, but she knew that she’d never see any actual game time as long as he was playing. The other thing going on was her status as a girl on the football team. She was treated as a celebrity and not necessarily in the best way. People like her, many adored her, she did not want to be the center of attention, she was a member of the team, no different from anyone else, except perhaps having the biggest bubble butt.

But she knew the underlying behavior of the people around her. The questions would be brought up again and again, why do you have a girl on your team? Football wasn’t a girl’s sport she was told. Not everyone of course, but even on her own team the players would sometimes question her methods, out of a protectionism toward her. They didn’t want her to be hurt; girl’s deserved to be treated with respect, not trampled on by defenses. There was always the worry that if she were to get the ball people would be hesitate to tackle her, allowing her to score, but then bringing allegations that the team used her for that purpose to score points unfairly. There was also her hogging of attention, when the media came to report on the team, she was the most popular player, like Danica Patrick in racing, despite never coming into the game. She could feel the resentment, but she was in an uphill battle from the beginning.

And then, there was her farting problem. Fortunately for her, no one on the team actually knew that she had a farting problem, but she did. Physical, athletic and prone to eat healthy foods and protein supplements like the rest of the team, it created a host of flatulence-related issues that her family sometimes resented. Angela farted like no one else; she could cut them big, cut them long and especially cut them smelly. Her favorite was the all too familiar silent but deadly fart, which she had perfected to a science. When surrounded by guys she had to deploy her SBDs to avoid suspicion that she was the culprit. It was hardly a coincidence to her that when she joined the varsity football team a mysterious egg-and-fish aroma began to fill the locker room nearly every day that the team practiced. That strong aroma would continue into practices on the field and football games themselves. The players had noticed the smell, but given the fact that there were 42 other guys, bulky and sweaty beasts themselves, the list of suspects was too long for anyone to suspect the girl as being the farter.

Angela’s penchant for farting while playing football was finally coming to a head for the team’s homecoming football game against Eastbrook. Angela didn’t need anything to alter her diet to stop people from sniffing her incredibly-foul smelling farts, nothing. But to help, she went home and had a large serving of her mother’s special five-bean chili. This consisted of pinto, black, baked, garbanzo and refried beans, very heavy amounts of beans. Mixed in into this delicious concoction was ground beef, diced tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices, all cooked in a large pan. To Angela’s mother’s surprise, she ate the contents of the entire entrée, not an easy task, but Angela loved chili. Mixed in with the protein supplements she had earlier when for lunch plus a light salad and some pizza and her breakfast this morning, there was more gas brewing in her stomach than humanly possible. Her mother was worried that Angela eating all of that chili, but she assured her mother that she’d be fine. Driving back to school for the football game, Angela committed several severe gastric atrocities in her car that would have put any real-life gas chamber to shame.

She arrived at the game and was given the first opportunity to change into her uniform, a private session that was quick so that she could allow the other men to suit up themselves. The guys were rowdy, they were the kind of individuals that would play music up full blast and take their sweet time getting ready for the game, sometimes prompting the coach to walk in there and order them out so that they can begin their preparations. Angela got dressed and while only in her bra and panties let loose her first of many ghastly-smelling SBDs in the room. Remarking about the strong odor she quickly got the rest of her uniform on, trapping some of that hot eggy gas within the confines of her tight pants. Once getting the rest of her pads on she fanned the air around her, reeking now of a musky raunchy gas that filled up the entire space and then some. She grabbed her helmet and walked out of the room, a little worried that she’d be caught. She left the room and allowed the other guys to get ready for the game and could barely contain her smile when they smelled her wafting rotten stink. When asked about the smell she contended that the room already stunk like that. The coach assumed then that someone must have used the bathroom prior to her and left it like that. But Angela had done the coach a favor; most of the players were out of the locker room in under five minutes.

The high school football stadium was filling up as Angela got some butterflies in her stomach. As always the players were still supportive of her, but what they were unaware of was the fact that she was harboring some rather toxic smelling gas and that the game was going to end up in a fog of her chili-produced flatulence. She tried her best to hold up the gas as she greeted fans, who grabbed their phones to get pictures of them next to the female football player and even sign some autographs. The coach allowed this behavior since it gave the team some attention and it gave Angela some purpose, and she didn’t mind being looked to as an admirer. She even liked seeing the cheerleaders out there, the fact that these girls were cheering for her…and the rest of the team gave her a strong feeling. Usually girls could only cheer as the guys played but for once the girls were cheering for her too. There was a particular blond cheerleader that was always giving her a look, of admiration and respect and perhaps a little bit of the hot. Cheerleaders were supposed to be interested in football players after all. With all of that in mind, it was time for the game to get ready. It began in the tunnel, a makeshift balloon structure in the team’s purple and white colors. The players were all ready to move onto the field, Angela felt something brew in her tummy, the announcer was getting the crowd fired up. And then it happened, out of her round, meaty and muscular glutes blew out a hot, long and stinky fart.

“And here come the Huskies!” The announcer said as fireworks went off and the condensed group of people prepared to leave the tunnel. One of the team captains ran out first with the school’s flag as the other players were suddenly trapped in an abysmal fog of utter putridness. It was only a few seconds, but they could all smell it, someone had laid a rotten egg in that group. Everyone bunched like that, Angela was all smiles, no one would suspect it was her. Most of them were very dazed from having to continue breathing in the growing power of this truly putrid wind. The rotten egg stench of her farts was as strong and powerful as ever and it was more than enough to nearly knock them out. But then came the time for all of them to run onto the field and never before had there every been such drive to leave the tunnel and get onto the field as right there. Angela joined the football team in action as they left the noxious-smelling tunnel and onto the playing field as the school’s marching band played the school’s fight song. She was still smiles as she felt the wave of residual eggy gas blow out of her ass, stretching the length of her powerfully-foul gas cloud through the entirety of the tunnel and out onto the playing field, allowing it to disperse a bit more evenly to the point that it was no longer smelled.

As the crowd settled down, the players took their spots on the respective benches and Angela began her weekly duty of keeping the bench warm, which normally would have just been a figure of speech but as she soon was finding out was taking on a whole different meaning tonight. The game kicked off and the two teams were off, the crowds were cheering on this pitch perfect autumn night, temperatures lowering past 65 degrees with the sky changing colors with the setting sun, it was about as nice of an evening as possible. The giant lights began illuminating a brighter blast onto the field as the darkness slowly began to overtake the sky. The crowds cheered the teams, with both sides having a substantial amount of fans in the stands given the two teams’ closeness to each other geographically. Mixed into this fun atmosphere was the marching band, playing loud with trumpets and trombones and a mix of percussion instruments, the several advances of the home team down the field and into the end zone gave them ample opportunities to play the school’s fight song again and again, it was only unfortunate that the other team was putting up points of their own on the other hand.

The two teams pitched together a battle with them moving their chess pieces back and forth across the field, countering a run play with stuffing available running lanes and stopping the pass with defenders stopping a potential receiver. This battle allowed Angela for plenty of chances to watch the action and provide her own analysis, as with everyone else in the stands who would become sudden experts on the strategy of football as they watched the game. All of that paled in comparison for the Battle of Angela’s Guts however. Five different kinds of beans, probably a small bowl’s worth of each were nestling inside of her stomach and it was becoming difficult for her to hold in the gas. The football game was shaping up to be a offensive battle with both sides being able to score easily, the score already 14 to 14 into the second quarter. Her digestive system was no different, the gas building up was the offense, her body and mind’s capability of holding it in was the defense, it was going to end up a blowout. There was just too much gas for her to hold up and it didn’t matter anyway, she loved farting during games.

PPPffffffssssssssssssssssss!!!!!

Sitting on the bench, she leaned over a little to her right, the movement could be seen but no one bothered to really care about it. She smiled as she passed out this small but potent hisser of a fart. She could feel it, hot and heavy laden gas blowing out from the confines of her panties and her pants, warming up the fabric of the white nylon that covered the lower part of her body from the elements. After leaning over she quickly sat back down, looking around at her other teammates as they were none the wiser about what had just happened. It took about 30 seconds for the smell to travel the length of the bench, with some 20 guys sitting down as they watched the action. Another 15 guys were standing up, but they could smell it. Hot and heavy they could easily smell the absolute putridness of Angela’s fart. Her feast of chili had helped, with plenty of ease, to produce a gut-wrenching, puke-inducing, gag-creating combination that just substituted all the available oxygen that the team had been breathing with its new creation, something that could only be produced from deep within the bowels of the gassiest person in the world.

Fingers were pointing everywhere; there were too many guys to blame around for this. On their best days, all of these men could produce something that somewhat reached the caliber of this panty-burner. It was so rich and nasty that there was coughing all throughout the bench, luckily the team on the field had moved the ball further toward one of the sidelines, giving the guys time to vacate the bench area. In short order every member of the football team was off the bench and lopsided over toward one end of the sideline. Angela joined them as she felt the hot leftover gas simmering by the seat of her pants as she “accidently” carried some over toward the rest of the standing players. She looked back toward the cheerleaders, half of them with their noses plugged, they were as appalled with the power of that fart as the rest of the football team, she did a very stealth shrug in the direction of that one blond cheerleader, “what can I do about it” the shrug seemed to suggest. Unfortunately, the offense was quick to score to bring the score up to 21 to 14 and the guys were all meandering back to the bench, thinking that the smell would have gone away, but Angela’s farts don’t go away and the very light breeze, while helpful to the kicking unit, was not aiding in riding the area away from the smell.

“You guys are fucking sick!” Angela exclaimed as she sat back down, in a different spot from where she had released the fart. The guys were just laughing along with her, wanting to say the very same thing back at whoever had farted. One guy was unlucky to sit right where Angela had been sitting; she looked in his direction as he made a look, as if he had just sat down on a hot coal burning on the metallic bench. The smiles on her face came back as another gurgle made its way through her stomach. Back on the bench she watched as the running back was laughing out loud with a couple of players. Sitting on the bench she quietly dropped another fart, it only took 15 seconds for it to get to him and she could see him start scrunching his nose and coughing, the smell soon traveled the length of the bench and attacked the players again. Again, people were cussing, pointing fingers, even asking one another what they had eaten for lunch. The look on the running back’s face though amused Angela to know end, he looked as if he had just seen the ugliest old lady naked in his life, aghast at such a disgusting sight. Only it was a fart smell, her fart smell.

Angela would continue farting for the rest of the quarter, which was only a few minutes, still five of her silent farts was enough to coat the entire home side of the football field with her magical stink of rotten eggs and spoiled meat, simmering around the bench where she sat with her arms out open as she sat back and watched the gas do its work. As she continued to fart she didn’t even bother leaning over, she just sat there and opened up more of her asshole to the outside world to release more of her putrid-smelling gas. It was cool actually, her farts stunk, they stunk more than they normally did and she didn’t have to do anything special to induce this. Sitting down may have actually helped the place stink a little less than if she had been standing, or leaning over, anything that would have exposed her ass to open air would have probably brought upon unconsciousness for those standing closest to her. Sitting down, the hot gas had to work its way through the metal bench and the confines of her cushy ass, fighting for every bit of microscopic square inch before finally working its way outside. Some of the gas just traveled around her ass and made its exit on the sides of her pants, which weren’t pressed square against the bench. Regardless, her farts attacked without mercy and without warning, silent and deadly, the football players were under siege from a gassy apocalypse which had begun in their female counterpart’s bowels. And they never suspected it was her, no way a girl could fart, let alone to this severity. With noses buried deep inside their shirts as the clock ticked away toward halftime, they were all relieved to head into the locker room. The bad news, Angela was joining them.

Walking with the rest of her unit, she felt another bubble in her stomach. She worked her way so that she was in the back so that her players wouldn’t get a whiff of this meaty stench that she was about to release. The players walked along a path that had them walk past the marching band, who were waiting for them to leave the field so that they could perform. Angela saw them standing there and knew she had found the perfect target. Finding herself in the back on the line of players she saw and opening as she looked at them and smiled, her brown hair flowing down as she had the look of a sweet young lady. Then, out of the seat of her pants it seeped out, four seconds of her punkiest, nastiest egg-smelling gas. Bellowing out of her pants it created a dense fog of intense skunkiness that expanded by the second to include an area of sidewalk and track that the band would have to walk through. She continued walking with the players as she neared the locker room. She looked back as she saw her masterpiece at work. The band players were yelling at themselves, tripping over one another and coughing as they walked through the fog of putrid stink. It gave Angela pride, as the marching band was going to perform on the playing field they were going to do so with the smell of her fart on their minds. It was a raunchy fart that had surpassed some of her best even that day, so those band players were going to remember that fart for a while.

In the locker room, the players all sat down in front of their lockers. The head coach was rather pleased with their efforts so far, the team was up 21 to 17 but had plenty of things they could improve on. Angela listened as best as she could but truth be told, she was building up a fine specimen in her gut. Chili farts were not for the faint of heart, out of the gassiest person chili farts could do incredible damage. These guys, grown football players, a couple who were already signed to a major university, could easily empty out rooms with a chili fart. But Angela’s chili farts were twice that power, maybe even three times, she was known in her family and among her friends for cooking up some violently poisonous-smelling farts after eating chili. And now she was loaded with it, beyond loaded. She waited for about five minutes to pass, to allow the coach some time to explain some things, she knew this was going to be a locker room emptying fart. He had the chalkboard out with the familiar Xs and Os written as he explained some different strategies for the second half. There were a couple of running plays that caught her interest as she examined, after all she could always be called upon should the current running back become incapacitated. But all of that was insignificant over the gastric Armageddon she was about to unleash. Sitting back, she leaned forward a little bit; head on her hands with her elbows on her knees, most of the other players were leaning forward too. This position left over a nice open space for her straining-disbelief foul-smelling gas to meet their noses.

SSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!

Out it came and Angela could feel it, like a hot poker up her ass, the hotter it burned the stinkier it was going to be, she actually felt sorry for this one. It began as a small amount of digested fart gas, created by eating a full pot of chili beans and infused into her system to form a sinister stink. As it quietly seeped its way out of her ass, it blasted the back of her pants with gale force winds of pure hot stink. The air inside the locker room, as if it weren’t already warm were suddenly superheated with the force of an atom bomb. Guys left and right gagged, straight up coughing as the smell traveled throughout the room, it was obnoxious beyond And the smell, well, that increased tenfold inside, releasing an invisible cloud of gas that was quickly blasted out of her ass as it filled the insides of the locker room at an alarming rate. The fart went on for about six seconds as it pulsated out of her asscheeks and started burning her asshole. Once the fart was finished, everyone had begun sweating profoundly and coughing at the stench. It seemed like there was little oxygen left in that room, or at least breathable oxygen as her fart gas had easily defeated the surrounding air, which was already smelling like hot guy sweat. The moaning and complaining began as the brown girl in the football uniform had a smirk on her face. These tough guys were once again demonstrating that they couldn’t handle the power of her gas.

“For the love of God, whoever is doing that needs to fucking use the bathroom and quit it. You guys think it’s fucking funny, but this is some next-level shit and if I have to smell it anymore on the Goddamn bench then there’s going to be hell to pay!” The coach, a normally level-headed person who was considerate on all fronts, especially since this game had been going pretty decent all things considered, went out on a tirade that complemented everything that the other players had felt. The ghastly aroma of Angela’s fart was incredible, it’s range was beyond comparison, it hung out in that locker room for all those guys to grab a nice whiff of. And to make matters worse, she was still gassy. She still felt the chili, brewing more and more as it went through the intestines being transformed by the multitudes of bacteria into vile, potent flatus. How one female football player could produce so much gas was a question for the ages, but the players weren’t interested in investigating the components of what made Angela’s gas so vile, they were trying to keep themselves from becoming sick. A couple of guys went straight to the bathroom to throw up as the coach was about to call the players out of the room so that they could not suffer any more of her flatulence. Then a player who had been sitting next to Angela called her out.

“She did it!” He pointed, correctly guessing that only someone as lovely and attractive as the female could produce something so naturally disgusting. The player to Angela’s left came to her defense, blaming it all the player who had called her out on it. The two started bickering as the coach stood there flabbergasted with his hands on his hips.

“Blaming Miss Martin for this is some of the lowest shit I’ve ever heard of!” The coach said as Angela had a small smirk on her face. She did a hand gesture that said she was brushing off the whole thing, telling the coach that she had accepted his apology.

“Blaming it on her, that is low, you fucking did it!” The player to Angela’s left said again to the player on her right.

“I did not do it, only a girl could have done that!” He insisted, but it was clear that the entire room was about to turn on him, the coach’s opinion that Angela couldn’t have done that was spreading around the room about as fast as her ungodly foul smelling fart.

“It’s okay coach, it’s pretty ripe, I’m as sick by this as anyone else.” Angela finally spoke up as the coach ordered them out of the room. The group left in mass as the players were more than happy to leave the locker room, which was filled with so much stinky gas that one flick of a lighter would have been enough to level the locker room, not to mention the seating stand over them to a smoldering cinder. As the coach was usually the last to leave the locker room he waited for everyone else to leave. He ordered his coaching staff to leave for the field as well. They did just that, leaving the coach in the locker room by himself. It was pretty obvious now what he was going to do, he walked over toward the scene of the crime, looking around near the lockers of Angela and the two guys on both sides of them; he used his nose and went down toward the wooden bench in front of the lockers.

His nose came up to the approximate location where Angela had been sitting and it flared up with the kind of aromas that only science laboratories could create. Here the head coach of the Westbrook High School football team plunged his face deep against the wooden bench that was feeling warm from what had wafted out of Angela’s underwear and into the locker room. The disgusting aroma emanating from the bench, it smelled of rotten meat and eggs, mixed in with beans and onions and cheese, his burned his eyes and sent a painful stink up his nose that was quickly signaling to his mind that this was something inhuman. He breathed in deeply, and was revolted by the wretched order, yet he remained there for several seconds to sample in each bountiful burst of her leftover stink. Finally, after about 30 seconds, he was forced to pull back, not only at the behest of not being discovered by anyone else for smelling the seat where Angela had undoubtingly in his mind released a potentially dangerous smelling fart, but because he was simply nauseated by a powerful smell: It was certain that only Angela Martin could have produced the rancid aroma as he detected a very slight difference in smells of the seats on either side of Angela. It was strongest where she was seated, since that was the place where she had first exposed that gas to the outside world. The coach stood up, amazed by what he had just smelled, he used the bathroom to throw up a little bit before leaving and heading back to the sidelines. He took a quick glance at Angela, sitting there on the bench as normal as she looked back toward the stands, smiling at the people, still proud of their female football player. She then looked over at the coach and smiled at him. He went back to his clipboard as the team got ready to play the second half.

The second half was a different ballgame from the first, as was often the case in the great American sport of football as the Eastbrook Lions were on the offensive, scoring on their first drive. But even more horrifying to the rest of the Westbrook football team, Angela resumed her farting. She was a machine of gas that second half, farting at almost twice the output of the first half, eventually leaving the entire sideline a smolder fog of gaseous death, stinking of the aftermath of her eating chili. The coach eventually told the other players just to let it go and allowed for the gas to stay simmering around the bench, but not without giving glances in Angela’s direction here and there. She sat there the whole time as guys were giving her a little bit of room, some starting to come onto that other player’s assertion that Angela was indeed the culprit. The fact that the smell was strongest where she was sitting didn’t help things, but she was farting so much that she honestly didn’t care if they knew it was her. The gas was giving her something to do while she watched the football game go on. It was also clear to her back that the cheerleaders were catching strong whiffs of her gas as the potency ebbed and flowed based on the severity of the fart and time elapsed since last she passed gas. Angela was one gassy football player!

As aromic homicide was being committed on the Westbrook sideline, the action on the field was heating up and turning almost as quickly as Angela’s stomach. The game was being hampered by the fact that Eastbrook was actually giving a damn now during the game, over the next quarter and a half, they scored another touchdown to build up their lead to 30 points to Westbrook’s 24. In the following drive, Westbrook stalled out on three downs and gave the ball back to Eastbrook, who luckily weren’t any more successful. It was becoming a bit clear that the players on the field were kind of thrown off their game from Angela’s morbid-smelling farts as their minds were in a funk. Eastbrook was more than happy to take an advantage of that as they made a safety on Westbrook’s ensuing play, adding to their lead of 32 to 24. The fans on the home side were growing a little inpatient in their team’s performance but there was nothing that can be done. By the time that there were six minutes left in the game the guys on the football team were just trying to hold on, but smelling whiff after whiff of Angela’s pungent farts were taking their toll.

Eastbrook committed a mistake by throwing an interception allowing for the home team to reclaim possession of the ball. Angela had moved around the sideline a bit to throw off any suspicion that she was the culprit and to continue the charade that she was as offended by the smell as the other guys. Accidently, the passage of another one of her farts threw off the field goal kicker as tried to kick the ball into the small practice net, instead he lost his footing and fell down. She couldn’t help but giggle over the aftermath of her gas; everyone was being impacted by the natural act of a human being letting off a little gas. Not that she was a normal human and not that her gas was normal. But for the kicker’s little blunder he was able to step up to the line of scrimmage a couple of minutes later and kick a field goal to bring the game within one touchdown score by making the game 27 to 32 in Eastbrook’s favor. But Westbrook would have to kick off the ball back to their rivals who had another chance to score or even better milk the clock out, Eastbrook had one timeout left in the game had had to hold onto it, which meant that Eastbrook was going to waste most of the two and a half minutes they had left on just running plays. As this was taking place, a more important event was taking place on the sideline, Angela had to fart again.

She had joined some of the players standing on the sidelines as they watched the action and hoped that the defense could hold the Lions to three downs and allow their offense a chance to do down the field for the score. The quarterback was as eager as everyone else to be given this opportunity. As luck would have it, Angela felt another powerful gas bomb brewing in her stomach and as they Lions began their first play from first down, milking the play clock down to nearly double zeros so that the game clock would shrink. As the play clock reached zero, the countdown was nearly similar with the countdown for Angela to fart again. And out spewed her next toxic payload, a five second long burst of hot and eggy gas that made its way down the sideline in quick time to the dismay of the other players. But that wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that Derrick Rhodes, the team’s star running back happened to be walking behind her as she dropped forth her noxious bomb out from her pants. She was smiling as she pushed out this fart; it was as magnificent as some of her bigger farts had been that night. It was a textbook silent but deadly fart, and not just any textbook, but an AP, college-level textbook, like the ones she read for classes. Angela was cutting cheese that no one on that sideline had ever smelled before and Derrick Rhodes was about to be an unfortunate recipient of that cheese.

PPPPPPPfffffffffffssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!

This hot fart burned its way out through Angela’s panties and through her white pants and grew a vapor trail that met up with Derrick’s face. Even though his face was nowhere near eye level with her ass, that didn’t matter, his face was the first to feel the full power of the winds that blew from her behind. The retching smell of beans and garbage filled his mind as well as the smell of what smelt like onions and cheese. He continued walking but slowed down as the vapor trail traveled along his path. In a way, her hot fart was no different from a football that was being routed on a particular course over toward Derrick, who was the intended receiver, well unintended in this case as this was one “football” not to catch. The predominate methane and hydrogen sulfide infused in this fart curled its way up his nostrils and entered his brain, then something extraordinary happen, a toughed football player, a lettered athlete at Westbrook High School and overall-perceived tough dude was overcapacitied by the strong aroma of Angela’s fart.

But it wasn’t the warmth or the power of the fart that had caused him to pass out, it was the smell. It wasn’t her worst fart, but it was taken as such a close location and with such concentration that the running back couldn’t handle the large influx of gas into his system. Probably 15 seconds after she had first begun pushing out the noxious fart she heard one of the trainers call Derrick’s name. Turning back, she and the other players saw the star athlete down on the ground, knocked out from the incredibly lethal smelling fart that had attacked all of the other players. They all doubled down and groaned over the foulness, including Angela who put on her best effort to attempt throwing up. Gagging with the smell, genuining gagging as she soon found out, the quarterback came over to pat her stomach, helping her back up and asking if she was okay, her act had sold well with the players. But her massively stinky fart was filling up the sideline and surrounding areas and it was clear that it was going to hold over. In the background the defense had already stopped the Lions on the first two plays and with third down coming up the coach was coming to a grim realization, they needed a new running back.

“Angela Martin!” The coach yelled as she looked over and saw the coach standing there, looking kind of pissed over the situation. A couple of trainers were walking over to Derrick’s unconscious body as she walked over toward the coach. As she walked, a small trail of her nasty gas continued to pollute the area, as if she had a tail of foul gas hanging around her. She could just feel the flatulence ooze out of her. She approached the coach, expecting him to tell her off about the farting.

“Are you ready?”

“Coach?”

“When we get the ball back, I’m putting you in.”

“Thank you coach.” She said as she turned her back, just then she pushed out the tiniest quiet poot from her ass, less than a second in length it was still quick to reach the coach’s face. There he saw out of the confines of Angela’s tight pants a small burst of the lethal radiation gas. His nose was attacked with some of the raunchiest ass vapors possible. He quickly looked over toward the field as Eastbrook was getting ready to kick it off. Angela grabbed her football helmet and got ready for show time with a stomach full of the most pungent smelling gas ever produced brewing inside. She waited for the special teams units to finish kicking the ball back from Eastbrook to Westbrook and for the return game to bring the ball up to the 40 yard line. A quick glance of the scoreboard showed ten seconds remaining on the game clock with the score at it had previously stood.

“You got this.” Angela received an unexpected pat on the back to the guy on her right; it was the team quarterback Dillon. Tall, charismatic and talented, he was everything you expected for the leader of the team’s offense and he was giving his vote of support for Angela. The crowd cheered as they noticed that Angela was joining the unit up on the field with the announcer giving off her name to a roar of crowds. Unbeknownst to everyone who wasn’t Angela Martin, she was festering a horrifically massive bomb of toxic-smelling gas right at this time, but first it was time for the group to huddle up and plan the play for what was probably only a one-shot opportunity. Provided the time available, they may be able one more play but Dillon was planning on just the one. All things were pointing to the all-familiar Hail Mary play. They had to score 60 yards and get a touchdown, so one nice lob of the ball toward the end zone with a receiver ready to pick up was the best the team could hope for.

All things considered for Angela, being in this huddle was a dream for her. For once she was on the field, at the height of the action and taking in the short time she had on the field. Feeling the arms of the two players on either side of her as the group was gathered together in a tight circle gave her heart a nice warm feeling that for once she was a part of the action. One good impression though and she might be able to keep the running back position or at least share it. At least she surprised the other side by showing up, they had absolutely no research on her, no game film, no expectations for what she was going to do. But the play the offense was going to draw up was going to be a throwing play so there wasn’t much she would do other than help provide some coverage for the receivers who would be running up toward the end zone to make the catch and save the day. After laying the play for the players Angela spoke up.

“I can make it. Let me run it.” She said, to the chuckle of a couple of guys. Dillon was shaking his head, he had seen her run the ball before and knew she was a good replacement for Derrick, but he was too insistent about vetoing the plan, for all the same reasons.

“We stick with current play Angie, we have one chance, we don’t need you to run ten or twenty yards, you have to run half the distance of the field, better we throw it a good part of that distance and have someone else finish the play. Once you get the ball you’d have to run all the way in order for us to win. We’ll need you right where you are to stop the defenders and allow for Mark and Sam to run their routes to my right. Alright….ready….break!” Dillon dissolved the huddle and the players got into their stances. The play clock ran 35 seconds, counting down the amount of time Dillon had to read the defense and get ready to make the play.

Everyone got into their positions, Dillon was furthest back from the line of scrimmage, being the 40 yard line where the center held the ball, ready for his call as he looked on to the white jerseys of the Eastbrook Lions, already fully aware of the upcoming play. This was the one time where the defense pretty much knew what the other side was going to do, that’s why Hail Marys were only successful a few times. A line of five people lined up around the ball, the center with a guard and tackle located on both sides of him, this would provide Dillon’s protection as he drew the ball and waited for an opening with his receivers. On the far sides of the field to the left and right were a total of four wide receivers, they would run routes down the field toward the end zone and Dillon would end up picking the best available one.

To Dillon’s right, slightly in front of him was Angela, who would run a route of her own to deceive the defense into believing that she was an eligible receiver. As the team lined up into their spots they all made the familiar football stance on the field. As the five offensive line people were down to their hands and knees, ready to charge the defensive line, Angela and the other receivers stood with their bodies lurched over and their hands on their knee pads, standing ready for Dillon to make the call. As she assumed this position she felt it and it could not wait a second more, Angela had to fart, right there on the field.

PPPPPPPPPffffffffffff……

And so it began, perhaps the most disgusting smelling gas ever cooked up by the human bowels began erupting out of the tight confines of Angela’s pants. Her purple helmet was holding back the smile that she was show sporting as she began farting, it was very quick for her to realize that she was going to be farting a lot, which was perfect timing if the smell was meant to disorient the other team, perhaps she could use this gas to her advantage to stop the defense from attacking Dillon when he hiked the ball. There was something neat about seeing Angela, dressed in the full football uniform attire, uniform shirt, pants, pads, helmet standing there as she released a diabolical stink into the surrounding area. This was not just some ordinary fart; this was a record breaker when it came to the reeking category.

…ffffffffffff…..

Immediately, the guys around her started noticing as this new wave of silent stink began to take its hold over the football field. Unlike before where the smell had been confined to the sidelines, it was now filling up the field of play. The smell was becoming more and more surreal as it continued to form its way out of the folds of Angela’s white football pants and onto the area. The quarterback also was growing a little woozy as he got ready to move forward to the center to make the hike. For that position, he was just far enough away having to smell the worse of her fart, but the entire offensive side of the ball was now feeling the grand power of the forceful wind of her warm, eggy fart. Angela was laughing, this one was still going on, she was farting like there was no tomorrow, and then, just as she was surprising her teammates, the quarterback was showing that he was full of surprises as well.

….ffffffffffff……

“Pink 64, Pink 64….” Dillon yelled as the offensive players hearing that knew that it meant only one thing, he was calling an audible, right there in the middle of the final play of the game, even the coach was left shocked over such a move. This was a Hail Mary, there was only one real option, but the rancid aroma was providing him with some chance that he could go ahead with the running play after all. The offensive line got ready to shift position as the quarterback looked at the play clock, it was at 15 but the butterflies were on in Angela’s gut. She knew what the play was calling for now, she had to get this exchange down pat and succeed where it was otherwise views as impossible. Except for one thing.

….ffffffffffff…..

She was still farting. It was a long silent but deadly fart, longer perhaps than anything she had ever cut, the heat of the moment, the slight coolness in the air, it was very likely that a steam cloud was pouring downwards from the seat of her pants as she looked over in Dillon’s direction and got ready for him to mark the official start of the play. Looking ahead at the defensive line, the Eastbrook D-line looked like they were ready to charge but the smell was now hitting them in the face and it was soon clear that the smell was quite strong for their tastes. They had smelled farts before from other players, but they had never smelled a girl’s fart, especially from a girl playing football.

…ffffffffffff……

“Pink 64….Pink 64…hut, hut…HIKE!” And with those words Dillon officially received the ball from the center in front of him. Now the ball holder the quarterback moved back as the offensive line pressed forward to keep the defensive line from moving, the all-familiar clashing of players that was synonymous of the great sport of the gridiron. By now Angela had been farting almost ten seconds and the call of the play meant that she had to make a decision, continue releasing her fart or move to make the proper handoff from Dillon to run with the ball toward the end zone. Then she just figured….why not both?

…ffffsssssssss…..

As Angela ran horizontally across the field of play, parallel to the line of scrimmage she saw Dillon holding the ball, ready for her to receive. The offensive line had been keeping the defense at bay, as had been there job but there was something noticeably different about the defense, they weren’t really trying. From the anus of Angela Martin, a potent fart was spewing itself all throughout the football field, casting the entire field of play with a smell that made skunks smell particularly nicer. Angela’s movement from a stationary stance to one in motion had shifted the way the silent fart was leaving her ass, ceasing the silent trumpet of fart, blowing out at full blast onto the field and changing it to a more subdued release, a quieter hiss that moved along with her body as she was moving toward Dillon.

…ssssssssss….

The challenge was becoming less for Angela and more for the other 21 guys on the field, having to breathe in the fumes of her ongoing silent but deadly fart. While most people were still unaware of who was putting out the noxious ammonium-smelling gas into the air they were very aware of the effects it was having on their bodies. Despite being tough high school football players, conditioned to play in a variety of conditions under some extraordinary circumstances and able to change on the dime, they couldn’t handle the smell - they couldn't believe how badly it reeked! If one had to make an analogy with food, it was like if you poured half a bottle of vinegar on hot buttered broccoli and with hardboiled eggs and a landfill mixed all into a combination that had likely never been tried before. At first the stench made them recoil, but she found that the more she smelled it, the more hazardous it was for their health, the fart was continuing to slowly hiss out of Angela’s bottom as she grabbed the ball and made her way for a hole being pushed in the defensive line by the offensive linemen.

…ssssssssss….

Angela was now holding the football, her dream come true, she a female football player was holding the football and using her legs to power her run forward toward an opening in the line as any good running back would do. Dillon was about to run toward another defender to block him to give her the ample room when he suddenly ended up back in the line of fire, just being directly behind Angela, even if she was a few yards away was enough for the fiery hot gas to hit him through his facemask. He took in the sharp aroma of her powerful stink and found himself getting woozy just by being there, it was only a second or two, but soon the dreadful stink emitting from Angela’s ass was too much for him to handle and he could only see Angela’s bubble butt bouncing in the football pants as she punched her way through the hole in the defense and hopefully onward to victory. But Dillon the heroic quarterback wasn’t going to see her score as his eyes flickered once and the smell overtook his body, knocking him out cold as he felt face first into the turf. It happened so quickly that some people assumed he was simply tackled as the play was ongoing.

…ssssssssss…..

But the cascade effect was only beginning, Angela had charged past the original line of scrimmage as she felt the hot gas continued to eek its way out of her bottom, her fart was continuing, now over 14 seconds in length when you account for the play clock counting down and the four elapsed seconds on the game clock, now seven seconds away from the final tick, with her running on the field she had to score the touchdown now, she was too far from the sidelines to be tackled, and with the quarterback incapacitated from the rancid aroma of her gas it was do or die time. This one had the greatest power behind it when it came to Angela’s horrific chili farts, as she continued running with the ball while her ass vapors laid claim to the entire field. A fog was slowly forming on the field of play right in the center of the field, it was an actual factual visible fog, created from the mixture of hot eggy gas and a cooled off outside air, now nearly 50 degrees. The burning gas was released from ass valve and into her panties and pants before exiting them with most of their cargo still intact. Her movement down the field wasn’t stopping the flow of her gas from having an impact, the first few seconds of her fart was strong enough to make its presence known to all the players.

…ssssssssss….

Five seconds remained on the clock and Angela was now running as the defenders around her were finding themselves behind her farting ass, a very bad move on their part. The defenders that were around the line of scrimmage were stopped, coughing and gagging as any good person would do after smelling of her farts. One player began puking through his face mask as the fart cloud was continuing to form around the spot where the ball had been hiked. Five of the Eastbrook defenders had found themselves standing the vitriol cloud of stink as they were stunned over the eye-stinging and nose twitching smell. A few seconds later and they had choked on too much of the gaseous odor and fell down to the floor along with more of Westbrook’s offensive line, with no time to escape the raucous scent In record time, only three seconds almost half the players were now on the ground, either knocked out or about to be knocked out, the gas was smelling even stronger than previously, the continuous farting from the female football player was adding more pain to those breathing in its fumes. It smelled as bad as being skunked by a skunk, with the horrid odor moving its way across the large football field. Never before had Angela had a fart with as much power as this one did at the moment. With her right arm cradling the football she could feel her butt push out more of the warm smell outwards onto the field.

…sssssssssss…..

The crowd was on their feet as Angela was pushing it across empty field past the 20 yard line with only three seconds left in the game. Without any stoppage from any defensive lineman she was going to make it past the goal line as time expired. The defensive players who were suddenly caught up by the shock of a female running the ball to the score was trying to catch her, but they were caught in her exhaust port gas and found themselves collapsing on the field. Even the receivers on the field, who were the intended targets for the football were finding themselves breathing the fumes and realizing that this was more than a mere fart, it was a bomb of gas that was filling the field with the most noxious aroma they had ever smelled. The smell expanded rapidly throughout the football field as it claimed much of the people around her. The grass in the middle of the field, already dirtied up by the constant movement of cleats across its turf, was turning a light brown from sheer exposure to the heat and power of Angela’s purely disgusting fart. It was a burning smell that had even Angela gagging as she realized that she had laid a truly spectacular bomb.

…sssssssssss…

And almost without any sheer realization about what she had just did, Angela Martin crossed the goal line and score the touchdown as the time read zeros across the scoreboard. Behind her, 18 of the 21 guys on the field were already knocked out, passed over from having to breathe in one too many breathfuls of her nasty gas. The referees held their two arms up in the air to signal the touchdown as there was now no defender heading her way, she had made a clean…if very smelly way to the end zone. And with time expired the Westbrook Huskies had won the football game by a score of 33 to 32. The band started playing, the crowd continued to cheer and Angela stood there with the ball in her hand as she took on her helmet and looked at the crowd with a big smile on her face. Standing there in the end zone she could finally finish releasing her fart.

….sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!

Running 60 yards with the football had allowed her to only release a small component of her overall fart, standing now with nothing to worry about; she pushed out the rest of her fart. In only a few seconds, the entire football stadium was fogging up from the ungodly amount of sulfuric gas that was flowing around it. The gas had a powerful kick as it flooded the mind of Angela with her own gastric stench. The refs had to back away as they soon wised up and realized that she was the source of the powerful smell. As the band continued playing the thick fumes of her devastating fart continued to flow around the entire seating bowl. The remainder of the Eastbrook bench vacated and started running away as the fans were catching their first real whiffs of her gas and began realizing that they didn’t like the smell that much. In the meantime, the foulest, most corrosive bean-scented gas was being pumped all throughout the football stadium. It was coming out as a cloudy fog; more hot eggy gas mixed in with cool air produced an effect that created for what would have been a nice haunted house effect underneath the stadium’s bright lights. The smell of broccoli and beans along with cheese and it stunk to high heaven with this odor.

Despite her heroics, no one was going to be picking her up and carrying her off. She laughed as she saw numerous fans run for the exits, running as the smell of her gas continued to get worse, even as she had finally finished off releasing what was nearly a 45-second long SBD that introduced the worst smelling thing any football player had ever produced. A minute passed by and nothing was done, the stench from the SBD she had been cutting was still gaining momentum as it was claiming all the air not only on the field but in the seating areas and even past the fenced off area, it was an bomb that was spreading with a thick eggy aroma. The powerful concentration of methane and sulfur were pounding up her nose with a blowtorch of heated flatulence. She walked over toward the sideline with her helmet in her left hand and the football in her right hand, holding on to that sucker as a memento for what had happened. Scores of people had left the stadium and were now getting a hold of people to take care of the dozens who were knocked out from the rancid stink filling the field. The smell was just too strong and it was getting stronger. The stench and power of her farts could get deadlier up to three minutes after her release before finally cresting and falling down, and even in an open area like the football field those three minutes couldn’t come soon enough. More eye watering stink was flowing out of her white pants as the gas from the SBD was still emitting from her body. She sighed to herself as she began to think that she would not make it out without passing out.

But she was a football player after all, and football players were bad ass, she could handle her own stink, even as stinky as hers was. It amazed her, despite all the buildup that boys were tough players, could withstand taking hit after hit from the defense; they couldn’t handle the smell of a girl’s fart. Simply put, her farts were a little too strong for just about everyone to withstand, but there was one group of people who were still standing, surprised by the actions on the field, the cheerleading squad. All the girls, dressed in their sexy skirts and top pieces with their pomp pomps out were looking around at all the people smelling the foul fumes of Angela’s fart and caught unprepared for its rather divisive stink. Finally, the blond cheerleader that had been giving Angela the eye all game long looked over her way as she walked onto the track, holding the ball and her helmet in her arms. They saw her standing there with her brown hair flowing down as she smiled at them. Gas was fuming out from every opening in her football uniform, making the outfit stink to no end. The cheerleaders to their credit didn’t seem fazed by the powerful aroma of Angela’s gas. As she made her way toward what would be a vacated locker room, she finally turned back to them and laughed again.

"What can I say, girls? Chili. It's a killer." Angela said laughing as she walked back toward the locker room. The girls were all eyeing Angela’s ass in her white pants as she walked further and further away from them. That’s when they smelled it, Angela had farted again. The brown haired female football player who had just scored the winning touchdown had just farted again. Angela Martin was a lean, mean, touchdown-scoring farting machine and her farts were far from finished, she was going to be farting like this all night long! It was no wonder that the guys thought that girls shouldn’t be playing football, they simply can’t handle the stink of a girl’s fart!