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Posts Tagged ‘ladies who fart’

  1. F is for Fart

    June 6, 2014 by Heather Cole

    I know. I know. Ladies don’t fart.

    Right.

    It happens, though. Let’s all admit it and get over it already. The more sex you have in various positions, locations, conditions… the human body makes noises. Our physical selves have reactions to a myriad of stimuli, and it’s natural to respond. Take deep throating, for example. Have I puked on sir? Yup. I don’t advise shoving a cock into the back of your throat after indulging in Taco Tuesday. Just sayin’. I wanted to be good at deep throat which meant practicing enough that I conquered my sensitive gag reflex. Well, a fart is to your anus like puke is to your throat. YES, THAT MAKES TOTAL SENSE.

    I realize that sir and I have reached a place in our relationship where body secretions and noises are par for the course. He takes things in stride, knowing that my body can’t help its responses. And I do the same for him. For heaven sakes, I have to high-five the man when he rips a really good one in bed. So that should mean that I can do the same, right? Well, no.

    Because ladies don’t fart.

    Here’s the hysterical story of one woman who did.

    ~Heather

    **************************************

    Okay, I’m going to dispel Heather’s statement about ladies farting– I don’t fart. Like ever. That’s impossible, you say? Well, it’s not. I’m a southern girl and we’re just not allowed. I’m fairly certain the ability to fart is stripped from our DNA in the womb. I do, however, burp. A lot, and loud. Because I’m fucking classy.

    Moving on…

    Mr. K has a thing about farting in front of me– he’s embarrassed to do it. And in the course of our two year relationship, he’s farted in front of me once. ONE TIME, y’all. But that doesn’t count the nights he’s farted in his sleep.

    Shhhhh, don’t tell him I said that. He would DIE.

    Recently, though, he had an epiphany, if you will. I have hearing loss and Tinnitus in my left ear from way too many years of way too loud rock music. Also, it’s genetic. That means that unless I’m watching your lips move when you speak or if your voice is a certain tone, chances are I’ll miss a lot of what you’re saying. But Mr. K has finally realized the advantage here and has decided he’s going to start farting in front of me– I won’t hear it anyway.

    Nikki

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