A Vulgar Display - the True Facts

The Americans onomatopoetically call it a queef, while us Brits, charmingly refer to it as a fanny fart, this elusive and frequently embarrassing raspberry blown from the female genitalia is seldom heard by most of us men, and even more seldom discussed. But none the less, I would be willing to place any amount of monies on the fact that I am not the only chimp in this forest to find the phenomena at worst interesting and at best seriously erotic.

My first exposure came in my early twenties. Having lapsed into a deep and heavy sleep after pounding the tightly delicious pussy of a girl of my acquaint -- let's call her Cath -- I was irritatingly awoken by my flat door opening and a friend of mine making a drunken, noisy entrance.

Cath, bless her (no actually, don't), wanted us both to get up, out of the bed and go and share some inane midnight small talk with our pissed up houseguest. I assured her that this was neither necessary nor expected.

'No fucking way.' I gently suggested 'He knows where the couch is.'

But she would not be dissuaded and, no doubt feeling some kind of misplaced desire to appear 'the hostess with the mostess', dragged me through to politely converse with my somewhat bewildered friend.

Now, given the nature of this site you might be forgiven for expecting me to break into a story about how me and my good friend united and gave this girl a hard and nasty three-way, while she gloated at our childish enjoyment of her intimate bodily functions.

Sadly, that would be a lie.

What did happen, however, was that as she kneeled down, one of my oversized t-shirts just barely covering her dignity, she involuntarily cut loose a voluminous and brilliantly undeniable fanny fart.

Well, I guess my enthusiastic pumping just an hour previously had filled her with more than just a healthy load of cum.

I smiled inwardly. Who had wanted to get out of bed and come through? I thought.

My friend looked uncomfortable and gallantly pretended he hadn't heard.

Cath was mortified and scuttled off to bed shortly after.

That was, as you might say, first contact. Ground zero.

Now, I digress somewhat.

I was perhaps just over halfway through my twenties when I experienced a relationship that was, by turns, exciting and god awful. You see, the dear lady was quite out of her mind and while she happily introduced me to the seamier side of sex -- demanding that I shower her with urine direct from source as she lapped, drunk and massaged it into her perky little tits and enthusiastically introducing me to the delights of sliding my cock a considerable distance into her impressively flexible arse hole was just the tip of the dildo, so to speak. Add to that some very risky public sex, homemade pornos, submission, humiliation and luridly obscene conversations and you have some fun times. Sadly she also did her best to completely derail my life.

She failed. However she did do something else once when I was locked in the tireless pleasure of tonguing her beautifully formed cunt.

She farted in my face.

It was the other kind of fart.

As insane as she was, she was, quite rightly, very affronted.

Being a gentlemen, I did not make a fuss. Neither did I break my stride.

'It's all cool.' I said and ran my tongue around her rim just to emphasise the point.

And in truth. It was. Fortunately, it did not smell, especially and as the whole thing ranked highly on my personal dirty-ometer, I think it's fair to say the experience only added to the overall melee.

Of course, given the way she was- determined to buck against what would be expected of any 'normal' person, she mentioned the incident frequently and without humility.

The whole thing, while not exactly something that I needed to get off, left me with a tiny voice within my libido that confidently claimed that embarrassing/unfortunate sex noises were actually quite arousing.

So we progress to more recent times -- my early thirties and a very beautiful, broad-minded and experienced lady who I am fortunate to know intimately. We'll simply call her CD.

For whatever reason, it was during this phase of my life that my old friend, the humble fanny fart decided to reappear.

Just say, that after an extended period of deep, hard fucking, the lady in question, on all fours, bared before me, her arse stuck proudly in the air and splayed like the very gamest of porn stars, lets fly with a raspberry of obscenely vulgar proportions.

There was a moment of sudden mutation in my sexual preferences: I go from quietly appreciating it, to loving it. And I'm talking, rock hard cock, instantaneous ejaculation kind of love.

CD, as is her way, was very embarrassed.

'Can I confess to something?' I pant, still playing with myself, still loving the view.

'Yes.'

'That really turns me on.'

'What?! Really?'

Yes, really. And happily the general opinion seems to be: 'I don't understand why but whatever rocks your boat is fine with me.'

So where does that leave me?

Happily it leaves me with a very sexy lady, who, in certain positions and certain situations can often be relied upon to cut loose some impressive fanny farts. Since I'm frequently down there, pleasuring her orally, if I just happen to be, in the right place at the right time, say, with that sexy, moist fuck-hole just a matter of millimetres from my mouth when one of these unfortunate escapes of air happens, then that's just fine by me!

Okay so, I'd really like her to embrace my kinky fixation to its fullest -- straddle my head and plant her gorgeous bum over my face and really subject me to a full on pantie-ripper. But for the time being, I'm happy just to be there in the moment with my cock in my hand!