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She Made Me Hers
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: February 23rd, 2015


At my desk, I scroll through Facebook and scan through various pictures of ladies displaying fine behinds to camera, or every so often, a facesitting picture; those I'll usually grab right away. The butt pictures, I have to think about, see if anything inspires an idea out of them.

I hear the footsteps too late behind me but I know it's my girlfriend, she knew I had a thing for this stuff. So I keep scrolling casually, I can't hide it now anyways.

Then I feel her soft hands in my hair, softly petting. Then she tightens her grip and throws my head back so I'm face-to-face with her.

My expression is fearful, she looks down at me with hate; "What did I tell you, toilet?!"

She pushes my head against the monitor, I'm face to butt with one of the model pictures on Facebook.

"Huh?!" She demands.

"I...uh...don't uh..."

"Huh...uh...wah, speak, toilet!"

"You said don't look at other pictures while you're at home."

"Look at that, toilet actually knows something!"

She pulls me back until I fall onto the floor with a loud thud. She unbuckles her jeans, drops them and stands over me; she squats her panty-covered butt over my face.

I beg, "Goddess, please no..."

BRRRRRrrrrrrraaaaauuuuuuppppppp!

She sighs, contently, "Shut up, toilet! You're gonna sniff it!" She sits down, all her weight now sitting on my face; crushing me under her potent, gassy ass. Helplessly, I take a big inhale of my girlfriend's gas; augh...god, it's so rank, like steamed, rotting vegetables and boiled eggs.

"You should know, toilet, that I'm always here to ease your horniness; you don't have to go online and fantasize. You can enjoy it, for real, on your own face!" She laughs.

PRRRRrrrrruuuuppppp!

I moan out in heaving breath; she seems dead set on making me suffocate to her gas. Maybe I deserve it.

Finally, she lifts up a little and like a drowning man, I come up, inhaling deeply the oxygen I so desperately need.

FFFFFFFFFfffffrrrrrruuuuuuuupppppp!

Her ass erupts mere inches from my face with a hot, blasting fart that blew away all my needed oxygen and replaced it with her gas.

"That should be enough for you, right, toilet?! You live for my farts, do you not?"

"Mmmss Gddsss," I mumble underneath her; choking, my head dizzy from the atrocious smell being pumped in my lungs.

"Mmmm, good, that's my good toilet," she pats my stomach; then rises off my face, grabbing her pants and pulling them back up.

I look up to her from the floor, my eyes as pleading as possible, "Baby...," I call affectionately out to her; she knows immediately what I want, especially with my hard on as tall as the Washington Monument.

I see her smile and walk over to me; she looks down, directly over me now.

She squats over my head, BRRRRRRRRRrrrrfffrrrrbbbbbbbb!

She sighs, "There, think about that and you should be able to take care of yourself."

She stands, chuckling as she walks away.

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