Several years, and a gay husband later
I met Larry. He was my first military boyfriend and I found him quite
interesting. The military world was completely foreign to me. I
thought it sounded sexy saying my boyfriend was a sergeant. I think
it was the uniform and tattoos that really got me. So like the
beginning of any romantic relationship we fucked like rabbits. I'd
stay on post in his barracks room three to four nights a week. He'd
get up before the butt crack of dawn for duty, and I'd leave later
when I woke up. If I wasn't up and out before lunch he'd come back to
his room for a nooner, even if I was sick. Which was often because
sleeping in his room was like sleeping on the iceberg that sunk the
Titanic. Who doesn't love a man that'll bang you while you're hacking
up a lung?
One night after a good 20 minutes of
rabbit fucking we passed out. Some time in the night my colon decided
it hated me, and it was pissed. To this day I'm still not sure how I
pissed my colon off that night but I did. No laxatives, Chinese food,
alcohol, or fried foods. What the fuck was its problem?
I'm a very thoughtful girlfriend in
the way of farting because I won't do them audibly in front of my
man. Silently yes, audibly no. I have a strategy for farts around my
man, the master deception. Example if we're laying in bed, an urge to
fart knocks at my asshole, I pretend I'm hot and start tossing and
turning. I position myself with my face towards the middle of the
bed, ass towards the edge of the bed. I let my sphincter relax, and
out comes the fart. As it's coming out I lift the covers up slightly,
and gently fan it outwards. Voile! I don't have to hold it in, and no
one knows it's there but me. Unfortunately this night it sounded like
Zeus was angrily shooting lightning bolts out of my ass and it felt
like it too. Larry was a deep sleeper but I was still praying to God.
Praying that if my explosives farts didn't wake Larry up that I'd do
whatever he wanted, hail Mary's, kneeling on bricks, sacrificing a
lamb/goat/first born whatever. But please, please don't let him wake
up from the sound or worse the smell! My God, Mr. Colon was pissed
the fuck off. He was letting me know for sure he wasn't going to let
me get away with it. The intense sudden urge to release my bowels
sent me jolting to the toilet.
A barracks room in most cases is a lot
like a hotel room. No real living space, just a place for a bed, and
the bathroom right by it. Room for a desk, but let's get serious who
really needs that in a hotel, and especially in a barracks room?
That's like giving the Dahli Lama a gift card to Pier One. Now
clinching my sphincter as tightly as possible to get there without
shitting myself was like trying out for synchronized swimming with no
previous experience and a fear of water. Running into the bathroom I
turned the faucet on and flushed the industrial style toilet for a
pre-courtesy flush. So as this ass lava was coming out it would
already be headed to it's eternal resting place. It didn't go down
without a fight. I'm not sure how long I was in there but it was long
enough to consider putting a tampon in my bum so I could sleep
peacefully without soiling the sheets. The smell of the Massacre of
Bum's Landing was horrendous. I left the bathroom fan on and crept
back into bed. Quickly glancing at the time I realized Larry had to
get up for duty in 15 minutes. Panic, panic, no don't panic it'll
make you shit again. But there's no shit left. I
thought to myself. OK I'll pray some more and maybe this
time repent and God might possibly make the stench vanish. And while
praying just pretend to be sleeping. The
alarm went off. He slowly started getting out of bed. Then walked
towards the bathroom for his morning pee. This is it, this
is the defining moment of our relationship. He's either going to a)
not smell it and I'm good as gold, b) smell it, be utterly disgusted
and dump me for being an ass pissing bitch or c) smell it, ignore it,
and if he does then he must love me and I must marry him. He
walked out of the bathroom, puts his hand on my shoulder and asks,
“Baby are you alright?”
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