#gatzilksis

[gatzilksis-2]

Brother of the Best Friend

Part One: Release

This story is mostly fictional with a few real elements. Includes adult content. 18+

I followed my best friend Jesse into his mom's house. Jesse wasn't attractive to me at all, small and skinny. I was skinny, too, but I was taller. Jesse was only eighteen, but I was twenty-one. We'd become friends at a job two years before, and we'd spent most of our time together since.

"Mom! We're here!" Jesse yelled to the kitchen at the back.

His mom Sherry came walking to the front, looking frazzled with a red face. "You're late, Jesse. I wanted more time to talk about this. Hi, Danny."

"Hi," I said, wondering what she was talking about.

Jesse was just as confused. "Talk about what?"

Sherry cocked her head towards the dining room. We all took our usual chairs at the round table, leaving one empty, an ugly plaid cushion tied to the wooden seat.

"Your brother will be here in a few minutes," Sherry blurted.

"Marty?" Jesse looked worried, then smiled. "He got out? Good for him."

"You're not mad he's back?" Sherry asked.

Jesse shook his head. "We was away for four years, Mom. Whatever issues I had are gone, and he probably had bigger things to worry about. Like dropping the soap."

I glanced at him. I was openly gay, but his jokes never bothered me. Sherry didn't know my orientation.

"Don't say any jokes like that when he's here!" Sherry pointed a stern finger at Jesse.

"What'd he do again?" I asked.

"Fighting people." Jesse rolled his eyes. "He always had to show people how manly he is."

I fought not to blush. The pictures of Marty in the house were all of him as a kid. I had no idea what he would look like now, but I had a sort of obsession with proud, manly men. I hoped he was ugly, so I wouldn't have to deal with any awkwardness.

The front door knob turned, then someone began to knock. Sherry headed for the door with a smile. "That's him! Come greet your brother."

Jesse sighed, but we followed her to the living room. Sherry opened the door, and I almost gasped.

Marty was not ugly, not by any means. He was blond with neat stubble, big light blue eyes, and a bulky body between fat and muscle. He was covered in tattoos, his buttoned shirt was tight, and his shoes were big.

Marty tackled Sherry into a hug, and she cried over his shoulder. "Welcome home, baby."

The son parted from his mom and slowly approached Jesse. "Jess...you look good."

"You look..." Jesse looked him up and down. "...big."

"Well, when you can't get drugs or walk around, you get this." Marty patted his belly.

"You have boobs." Jesse pushed up one of Marty's pectorals. He let it fall and bounce, and I tried not to watch it.

I realized my mouth was hanging open and shut it, just as Marty turned his clear blue irises on me. "Who's this, your boyfriend?"

He donned a cheeky grin. Jesse grabbed the same breast and twisted. "My best friend Danny."

"Ow!" Marty grabbed his chest when Jesse released him. He gave a little laugh. "Still an ass then, Jess?"

Jesse flipped him off.

Marty turned to me again, holding out a big, tattooed hand. "Sorry. I'm Marty. Nice to meet you."

I shook his hand, finding it smooth and warm.

Marty let go and leaned back to release an extremely loud, deep burp. He grabbed Jesse and blew the belch at his face. Jesse hit him and backed away, sitting on the couch. I sat beside him.

"I'm going to finish dinner." Sherry moved her pointer finger from Jesse to Marty. "Be good."

"Yes, ma'am." Marty sat in Sherry's reading chair in the corner.

I realized I hadn't even checked out his ass. I shouldn't have wanted to. He was my best friend's brother, and he was no doubt completely straight.

That didn't stop me from staring.

"What's been going on, Jess?" Marty asked his brother, who was stuck in the TV.

"Just hanging out with Danny." Jesse shrugged. "Going to community college in the fall. Fast food manager work is good. How was prison?"

Marty didn't answer, just stared with a sinister sort of smile. He readjusted his position in the chair and settled.

A second later, I was attacked by a toxic air assault, a silent fart of epic magnitude. Flatulence was the ultimate manly act, and I appreciated it much more than most people. Of course, I had limits. I didn't intend to sniff anyone's ass directly or have anyone sit on my face. There was such a thing as too many farts, but just the right amount of them could drive me wild.

This one fart was amazing, almost strong enough to taste. I loved when a man could make something so intense.

"God!" Jesse shouted at Marty. "I was waiting for that! How long did it take?"

"I don't know." Marty shrugged, closed his eyes, and put his head back. He took in a slow, deep sniff and smirked. "Ah! Nice. Did you miss it, Jess?"

"Hell no." Jesse got up from the couch, stepping towards the kitchen. "Mom, Marty's farty!"

Marty laughed under his breath. "That was my nickname in school, you know. 'Farty'. Guess that's what I get for having a rhyming name."

I'd stayed in my place, closest to him on this side of the couch. I had been slowly letting the fart in, pretending to hold interest in the show.

"You don't think that's bad?" Marty pushed on. He was intent on talking about it. I was too, but I didn't want him suspecting anything.

I glanced at him, just as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest. I stiffened in my pants, glad to be sitting. "Yeah, but it's just a fart."

Marty leaned forward. PHWRRMPH! "Ah! Two farts. I had my driver get Taco Bell on the way." He sniffed the air again, giving a dramatic sigh after. "It's good to be free!"

His second fart smacked me, just as pungent as his first. I could almost smell the taco meat in it, all the food he must've consumed...

Why did he have to be my near perfect man?

"I bet," I responded simply, while my mind raced. If he wanted to talk about farts, that's what I would do. I never had a chance to talk about them with anyone else. Then again, it would only make me more horny, only make me want Marty more. "Your mom doesn't mind you farting like that? Jesse doesn't like it."

"I've always farted a lot, ever since I was little. Our dad did, too." Marty sniffed the air again. "Jess not tell you anything about me?"

"Just bad stuff." I shrugged. "Sorry."

"Whatever." Marty shrugged back and stood. "Mom, when's the food done?"

"It's close!"

Marty walked back to the kitchen, and I finally looked at his ass. No surprise, it was a good one, a fat booty shoved into his jean shorts.

I looked over at the reading chair, then looked to the kitchen. No one was watching. If I was careful...

I slipped off the couch and moved to the armchair on my knees. Marty's ass had left an ovular impression in the seat. Before I could get caught, I lowered my nose to the cushion, sniffing the middle of the oval.

It was too strong, and I pulled back. The smell in the seat was like raw, spoiled stomach and an old grease drum. I went in for another sniff and coughed.

I pulled back again and looked behind me. Marty was approaching. I swore in my head and got up quick. "I was stretching."

I'd said it too quickly, lost my cool. Marty raised an eyebrow but laughed. "Okay. Dinner's done."

His fart was fully stuck in my nose, and staring at him at the same time returned my little friend to full hardness. "Be right there. I need to shit first."

"Okay." Marty chuckled and went back to the kitchen.

I got up and practically ran upstairs, before anyone could see the tent in my shorts.

To be continued...

#gatzilksis #farts #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis]

Why are you taking a break Gatzilksis?

I am currently working 2 jobs, got a new dog, and got a new boyfriend, so my time is pretty much taken by all of that :)

[gatzilksis-2]

My New Boyfriend

I met my new boyfriend Regan while working at a fast food restaurant. He's super cute, shaved light blond hair with big blue eyes and a little round belly.

He was a manager, and his shirt tightly clung to his belly. It drove me insane every time I saw it. I just wanted to touch him.

We started becoming friends back then. I assumed he was gay, but I was involved with someone and couldn't ask him out.

And then there was one wonderful day. I'd been about to follow Regan into the office, but he yelled. "Don't come in here!"

I asked why, and he said "I farted and it stinks."

Of course I had to sample it. I came into the office to a strong, sour smell undercut with the stench of soft shit. It was a great fart. "It's not that bad."

"You're crazy. I had wings last night and now it's bubbling." Regan set a hand on his belly, again driving me nuts.

Unfortunately, I didn't smell any more farts then. But about a week later, I went outside to smoke and Regan came with me. He bent both knees and farted powerfully without a word, deep and gargling. He stood straight and smiled at me for a reaction.

I could smell it on the air, stronger than his last one. I laughed. "That was good."

And not long after that, I quit the job, one reason being that I was in a relationship and couldn't do things with Regan.

But after I broke up with my fiance...

I saw Regan's car was at the fast food place and stopped by. I asked him out, he said yes, and then we had a date to Applebee's and the movies.

A silent fart spread through his car between the restaurant and the cinema. Regan smiled and cracked his window. "Good thing it's right across the street. I might rip during the movie."

"Romantic," I joked.

"I'll try not to."

I'm out of time for now, but more is coming soon ❤️

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

Brother of the Best Friend Pt. 2

Part Two:

Part One Here

This story is mostly fictional with a few real elements. Includes adult content. 18+

I woke up early, lying head-to-foot with Jesse in his bed. I didn't live here, but I spent a lot of time at his house. Now, with Marty one room over, I didn't think I'd leave any time soon.

The door of Marty's room had been left open. He wasn't there. He was probably awake, having gone to bed right after dinner. I didn't blame him; he hadn't slept in his own bed in four years.

I went downstairs to get coffee, hoping he would be there. I waved to a knitting Sherry on the way to the kitchen.

I passed the doorway and nearly choked on a fart. No way it was just one. It had to be at least two, layered on top of each other to create the manliest of stinks.

"Hey, Dan."

I stepped further into the room to find Marty standing in the center. His big, soft chest and half-muscle belly were hidden under a gray tanktop. He wore the same jean shorts as last night, his bare feet chubby and wide.

Marty had the biggest, most mischievous grin on his attractive face. "What's wrong? You seen a ghost?"

"Yeah, a shit ghost." I smiled and pushed past him, "accidentally" brushing my arm against his warm back. The smell was heavier around him, almost too thick for me to appreciate. I reached the coffee pot and coughed.

"You sound like Jesse." Marty turned around, padding towards me while maintaining the grin. "You don't like farts?"

I did. I really did, but I hadn't yet been lucky (unlucky?) enough to meet someone with such powerful gas. His taunting was already turning me on, and suddenly the scent in the air became alluring once again.

"Obviously, you do." I stirred milk and sugar into my coffee and took a sip. I kept my crotch against the counter, to hide any possible growing.

"I'm a man." Marty stood closer to me. I felt the warmth off his body as he reached for the coffee to refill his mug. "It's what we do."

He sipped and put the mug down. With a return of the cute smirk, Marty extended a hand to me, closing all his fingers but the index finger. "Pull my finger."

I stared at it. I would have to turn around to do what he said. The act of the whole thing had made me harden at an insane rate. Of course I knew about "pull my finger" jokes, but I had never had the honor of doing it.

I grabbed his chubby finger and yanked. Marty stared at me as the fart dropped. VWRRRT! PHWRRrrrrrrRRR! FRRRT!

The fart was too long. I hadn't let go of his finger, and he hadn't broken eye contact. The fart punched me with a violent, rotten ferocity, and I released him and backed away. "Okay, that one was nasty."

"How long you think it was?" Marty sniffed the air and laughed. "Ten seconds?"

"I don't know." The fart burned my eyes, and I thought I might be sick. I had to get away from it. I grabbed my coffee and headed for the doorway.

Sherry passed me, entering the kitchen. I stopped to watch her, getting an idea. She smacked Marty's arm. "Martin Edward, you stink!"

"You should've heard it, Mom!" Marty yelled with pride. "It was epic! Ask Danny."

As soon as he talked about it like that, it was made sexy again. My idea had worked. Maybe as long as he was hyping it up, I could handle Marty's gas. "It was gross."

Sherry walked to the sink, not facing us.

"How are you a dude?" Marty asked me. His mom turned the water on. Marty stared at me for a few seconds, realization settling in his eyes as his signature smile spread across his lips. The water turned off. "Oh!"

"What?" Sherry asked over her shoulder. "You didn't toot again, did you?"

"I'm a man. I fart, not toot," Marty responded. I started to leave the room, hard once again. But Marty continued, "And not yet. Danny and I just have to talk about something."

I stopped at the sound of my name, turning my head while taking a sip of coffee. I didn't like the way Marty was looking at me, not with that smile.

"Whatever it is, I'm good." I walked away from the kitchen and set my mug on a living room side table. I went upstairs to use the bathroom for obvious purposes.

I knew Marty might follow me up. Part of me was intrigued as to what he wanted. Maybe we could...but what if he just farted a bunch? At what point would too many farts really be too many farts?

I finished unloading in the bathroom and opened the door, jumping at Marty's presence. "Hey, Danny Boy. Let's have a chat."

To be continued...

#gatzilksis #farts #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

My Stepfather Joe: 2023 Christmas Special Final

Last Part Here

18+

December 24, Christmas Eve

I'd fallen asleep on the couch on purpose. I was more likely to hear Joe's farts from there.

I woke to his footsteps pounding into the kitchen from their bedroom, accompanied by one long, wet walking fart. Joe grinned as I lifted my head, wearing olive green shorts with the full belly out. "Morning! Didn't know you were out here."

"Morning." I got up with a stretch and a yawn. It was half after seven. I got a cup of coffee as Joe started working on the food for the big meal. "Want help?"

"No, this time you'd just be in the way." Joe stood close to me to get his own coffee. He extended a thick finger to me. "Pull my finger."

"Really?" I hadn't heard that one in a while, but I pulled the finger.

PWRRR-wrrrrrr-rrrrr...

The fart was deep and guttural, my favorite fart sound. It stopped after a few more grumbling seconds, and Joe began to wave it to my face, taking his finger back to use both hands.

I stepped back but widened my nostrils at the same time. I was sure his farts smelled a little worse with age. I'd known that was a thing from my late grandpa. When he was alive, you couldn't even light a match around him.

"That was a good one," I admitted as Joe laughed.

"It was. Thanks." Joe slapped my back and went to get something else from the fridge.

I retreated to the living room, and Mom came out only a few minutes later. "You're leaving today, right?"

I nodded. "Bus gets to McDonald's at 5."

"Plenty of time!" Joe yelled from the stove. "Dinner should be done by noon."

"Yay!" I clapped my hands, and Mom smiled.

The food took forever, and I had only heard parts of Joe's farts as he cooked and prepped his way around the kitchen in circles. He would get mad if I went in, so I couldn't smell any of them, either.

But noon finally came, and the table was filled with all the traditional Christmas food. Joe put on a blue tie-dye T-shirt and sat down with us. He overfilled his plate as Mom and I put normal amounts on ours.

Joe leaned away from me halfway through his plate. BWRRR-RRT! He wiped his mouth and beard, glancing at me with a smirk.

"At Christmas dinner?" Mom asked him.

"I've always farted at Christmas dinner, honey," Joe countered with a chuckle. "And I'm pushing it this way, anyhow."

He waved an arm towards me, sending his new, thick fart at me. It smelled like spoiled stomach, but it had that thing, that sweet signature Joe's gas carried.

"Towards my son?"

I rolled my eyes at Mom. "It's not like it's a surprise."

BWRMP! Joe pointed it at me again. His mouth was full. "Wazzat a su'prishe?"

I laughed, and Joe did, too, after swallowing. Mom shook her head at us. "You guys are something else."

A few minutes later, Joe's plate was completely clear. He burped and then leaned a third time. PRRR-WRRrrrrp! "Ah, yeah! Honey, there may be a gas leak tonight."

"Wonderful," Mom groaned.

Joe's "gas leak" was when he couldn't stop farting. I wished I would be here for tonight's show, but I had a bus to catch. Damn.

Still, I enjoyed all of his farts accumulating into an unmoving cloud. The smell was layered, thick and rotten but so skunky and delicious in the same moment.

Joe refilled his plate as I finished my first, having had a lot less than him. Mom and I got more, too. There wasn't much talking, just a lot of quiet eating.

"Can we turn on the TV or something?" Mom got up and grabbed the remote from the couch.

"Too quiet for you." Joe lifted his entire ass, pointing a fart at the back of his chair. br-VWAAAMP!

I couldn't help cackling. "That sounded like it hurt."

"Nah, it's fine." Joe pushed another bite into his smiling mouth.

Mom came back to the table, waving a hand through the air before resuming her own meal. I was happy eating in the middle of the stink.

Joe finished his second plate and loaded it up again. "Eat up. We don't wanna have leftovers forever."

"I'm already full," I said.

"Me too," Mom agreed.

"Always down to me." Joe took his third first bite.

"I'll get the pies ready." Mom left the table with her dishes.

I checked my phone, watching Joe scarf down his food out of the corner of my eye. He rarely chewed with his mouth closed, and the extra air helped his fart production.

I stayed in my seat until he was done, pretending to be on my phone while I was actually just waiting.

Joe sat back in his chair, breathing heavily with a smile. He pushed his shirt up to rub his belly. "Can you take my shit to the sink, please?"

"Sure." I grabbed my dishes and his and put them in the sink.

VWAMP! VRRT-WORT! Joe laughed behind me, having let his fart echo off his wooden chair. "Now, that one kinda hurt."

"That's why you lean, right?" Mom joked as she placed pieces of pie on paper plates.

"Yeah, but it sounds funny with the chair," I happily replied.

"Exactly!" Joe pushed himself to his feet, his shirt falling. "We opening presents now? And then pie?"

"That works for me," said Mom.

Their tree wasn't up, so they had to go get the wrapped gifts from their bedroom. Mom came out in a Grinch nightshirt, and Joe followed in only a pair of boxers, something I'd never seen from him. The boxers were red with a big Christmas tree in the middle of his fat ass, right where the farts came out. His belly hung over the front of them, jiggling as he paced closer to throw me a box.

I caught it with no problem. "See, you do look like Santa! Those are some Santa ass boxers?"

"No, the ass is a tree." Joe turned his butt to me, over a foot away. "See?"

"I see!"

I expected him to fart, but he just stepped away, sitting in his spot on the couch. "Open your present!"

I did, kneeling on the carpet and ripping the paper off to reveal a new Keurig. "Yay! Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Santa!"

Mom covered her laugh with a hand as Joe gaped. He slowly started to laugh. "You asshole."

Joe got up from the couch. I pulled out my phone. "Let me take a picture, and I'll show you how much you look like Santa right now!"

With a sinister smile, Joe dropped to the floor and reached for my phone. I held it away from him, trying to open my camera. He grabbed it. "You're not taking a damn picture."

He shoved me and pushed himself to his feet, staying bent at the waist. The boxers were right in my face, the Christmas tree inches from my nose. gr-BWRRR-wrrrr-BRRR-RT! His normal fart scent had been greatly increased by all the Christmas food. It was so thick I could almost taste it, and that was incredible to me. It wasn't close to the worst he'd ever done, but it brought an actual tear to my eye.

Joe fell into hysterical laughter as he stepped away from me. He held up both arms in victory. "That's the one I've been waiting for!"

"Goddamn," I said, though it was Christmas Eve.

Mom fanned the air from her seat. "It's already over here!"

Joe returned to his seat, proud of himself. "That was a damn good fart."

I almost agreed, but I thought it might look weird. The only Christmas gift I really wanted was more of what had just happened.

We turned on yet another Christmas movie, and I took my seat next to Joe on the couch.

BWMMMP! Joe pushed a fart into the cushion. He glanced at me. "Could you feel that?"

"No."

A few minutes later...BRRRRMMMP-FRRRP!

I smiled, having just slightly felt it in the cushion. "Okay, I felt that one."

"Now smell it," Joe stood suddenly, causing the farts sealed between his ass and the couch to release.

It hit like a hot, smelly wave, and I resisted the urge to sniff deep. From the loveseat, Mom yelled "Go grab the spray!"

"No." Joe padded to the plated pies. "It's Christmas."

"What's that have to do with it?" Mom argued.

It didn't go any further than that. We all got pieces of pie and ate them in front of the TV. When we were done, I didn't have much time left. "Hey, Joe? Didn't you say I could pick some stuff to take with me?"

"Yeah, you wanna go look? I'll grab my robe." Joe hurried to their bedroom.

I thought it was funny how he got so excited about his new business.

"See you in an hour," Mom quipped.

Joe wrapped a dark blue robe around himself, putting on flip-flops before going outside. It was almost dark, but motion-sensing lights led us to the garage. Of course, I let Joe go in first. He flipped on the lights above the tables and boxes of crap. "Anything you're thinking about?"

"No," I answered. None of the stuff, at least. I looked around slowly. "There's so much."

"I know." Joe stepped in front of me. BWRRRT! "There's actually a couple little fart machines somewhere in here."

"Like you need that."

"Yeah, right." Joe walked around to adjust little things, leaving his awesome gas behind. "Your mom's gonna kill me if I don't start taking those pills. I just didn't wanna have a migraine while you were here. Plus, farts were like our thing."

He mentioned the past, and I still wasn't sure how much he knew. However much it was, he didn't seem to mind farting around me. I smiled and finally noticed something cute, a box with the Tree of Life carved into it, on a bottom shelf behind Joe.

"I think farts are a thing between you and anyone." I reached down behind him to grab the corner of the box. "I want this."

"Wait! I don't got a fart yet!" Joe chuckled down at me over his shoulder.

I was right behind his ass again. It wasn't really on purpose; the thing I wanted happened to be behind him. Did he actually expect me to wait for a fart to come?

I straightened up, holding the box in both hands.

"Damn!" Joe yelled, though his smile stayed. "You walked right into it, and I didn't even have one ready!"

I wanted to give him a freebie, but that would completely give me away. I headed to the door, but Joe got in front of me. He blocked the door and pushed his ass back. VWRP! FRRT! BRRRT!

They were small for a normal guy but tiny for him. I stood behind him, surprised that the smell was the same for the baby rips. "You stopped up? Don't shit yourself."

"Haven't done that in years." Joe went out the door, shutting off the light as I followed him.

We got back into the house, and I quickly got my clothes and other things together. I emerged from the guestroom to see Joe lying down on the couch, again in only his Santa boxers, his belly hanging to the side.

"Ready to go?" Mom asked, putting on her jacket by the door.

"Yeah." I took a look over Joe. "Nice to see you again. I missed you."

"Come back sooner next time!" Joe lifted one arm in a wave. "Oh, wait!" He pulled his arm down in a crank motion and raised a leg. PHWOORRT! FRRRR-RR-BLRRT! "Ahh! There it is!"

I wish I could've had it in my face, but you can't have everything. "Nice one! Bye, Joe!"

"Hey, come hug me!" Joe yelled.

I couldn't hide my smile and walked over to him, taking in the awful, amazing aroma of his long, proud blast. I bent down to hug him, and I heard some quiet gas whisper. "That really stinks."

"Isn't it great?" Joe sniffed his own gas and sighed.

I wanted to agree, but I walked to the door instead. "See ya, Joe! Love you!"

"Love you. Be safe."

I followed Mom out. Though Joe's fart remained fresh in my nostrils, I was already getting sad. My time with Joe (and Mom) was over, and I had no idea when I would be back again.

I wish he could've driven me home and farted the whole way with the windows up. I wish I could've just stayed with them. But neither of those things could happen, so I was back to just writing and reliving my wonderful moments with my stepfather Joe.

End

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

More Boyfriend Farts

I came to realize Regan was actually gassy. Not to an unreal degree, but at least a few each day.

He farts the most in bed, sitting next to me and making little vibrations. It always smells sour, sometimes extreme like an especially gross dirty diaper. He usually grins and waves it away if it's not trapped under the blanket.

Regan farts in his sleep, too, almost every night. He gets the best farts when he wakes up early in the mornings. They're always longer and louder, and they've woken me up a couple times.

I haven't told him anything about my fetish, but I've let him know it doesn't bother me.

He'll even drop farts in stores. He thinks it's hilarious, and I always appreciate it.

Seems that I've found a really great, gassy guy. He's also adorable and the sex is amazing. He's much younger than me, but god I'm really happy with him.

I want to feed him gassy things and see how intense it can get...

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

Recent true fart experience #6:

We got two good farts today!

1. Manager Manny: Today at work, manager Manny was standing by a shelf. I was a few yards behind him grabbing something, but I needed something off that shelf too. Standing far back, I saw him raise one leg and swing it back just the smallest bit.

It was the movement of getting a fart out if ever I saw one. Naturally, I kinda hurried over to wear he was standing. I managed to smell it in full, lile rotten garbage. He knew I was behind him right after the fart, too.

He was probably pleased with himself, thinking he'd grossed someone out with a direct cropdust. If only he knew how much I loved it...

2. My boyfriend: Me and my boyfriend Regan got this really good pizza that's exclusive to Kroger. It always kinda made me gassy, but I didn't think about it today for some reason.

So we each ate half the pizza and cuddled to watch a movie. Before the movie was done, Regan said, "I gotta get up."

I moved back the smallest bit, and as he rose to a standing position, he ripped a big, loud fart right beside my head.

He didn't apologize, only laughed and said "That pizza gave me gas" with a hand on his belly.

The smell was pretty strong, too, as if the pizza ingredients had broken up and then soured in his stomach.

He's also farted three times since he fell asleep. Don't mind me lifting the blanket to sniff 'em 😜

#gatzilksis #farts #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

My Stepfather Joe: 2023 Christmas Special 1

(This is based on true events, also following the original My Stepfather Joe stories. You can still enjoy if you haven't read them!)

18+

December 22

I got off a Greyhound bus at a McDonald's. My mom got out of her new SUV and waved me over. We got into the vehicle, and she started the short drive to her house. "Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"I don't wanna talk about it," I replied. I watched her drive up a windy road. "I can't believe how long it's been since I've been here."

"I know. What's the last time you saw Joe?"

I looked out the window, shrugging. It had been a good long while, but I still thought about him all the time. Joe and my mom had been together since I was a kid. He was cool and all, but the best part about him was his gas.

As Mom got closer to their house, I hoped his gas problems remained. It wasn't something I was comfortable asking Mom about directly.

She turned into their long, sloped driveway and stopped at the top. My mouth fell open at the sheer amount of junk and stuff piled in the center of their driveway, all in boxes. The boxes were stacked and piled in a line that disappeared into the garage.

"That's the garage sale stuff?" I asked.

"Yeah. He gets it from old storage units and sells it out of here and his friend's house." Mom rolled her eyes as she got out. "I hate it."

"I could tell." I got out with her, stepping onto the big front deck and into the house. I was hoping to walk into a fart, but the air smelled of food, instead.

"Hello?" Mom called as she padded into the massive kitchen.

I smiled when I saw Joe. He was visibly shorter than the last time I'd seen him. I was sad to see he lost some of his weight. It was healthier for him, but I thought he looked better with it. Now, with his curly hair and big beard a lighter shade of gray, he almost looked like Santa Claus.

"Hey!" Joe hugged me, unfortunately without a fart. He was wearing a sweater with a snowman on it and shorts with slippers. Joe pulled away from me and gestured to the oven. "I got a bunch of different chickens roasting; honey barbecue, teriyaki, one spicy, and one with just garlic butter."

"Sounds good."

We did some catching up as the food finished cooking, and we sat down to eat. Mom and I sat to either side of Joe. The entire time we chowed on our chickens, there were no signs of gas. I tried not to show my disappointment as I caught them up with a few stories from the past years.

I figured the chickens would do it. I ate as much as I could, while Joe had already eaten twice as much as me. I carried my dishes to the sink. "I forgot how good your cooking is."

"Thanks!" Joe got up with his own empty plate. As he walked towards me, it finally happened. Vwrrr-rrrmm-BWRRT! Joe's walking farts fell out in a booming splendor, and my mom pulled her head back.

Joe laughed and squeezed my shoulder. "You forget about that?"

"No." I smiled and put my dishes in the dishwasher, then walked back to the table. And there it was; the strong, skunky scent of Joe's farts that I'd been deprived of for too long.

"Come outside. I'll show you the business." Joe headed outside without me.

"I'll be back," I said to Mom and followed.

"In here!" Joe yelled from the garage.

I walked in and gasped: the garage was filled with stuff, displayed in cases and on tables and hidden in more and more boxes. "Holy shit!"

"Yeah. I got a lot, but think how much money I can make off this." Joe was too excited about this endeavor. He went on and on, but I was barely listening. It was all about how much each thing was worth.

There was barely any space to move in here. Back in the day, Joe would've taken advantage and farted at least once by now. But he just kept moving around the space, pointing out dozens of antiques.

And then suddenly, the smell came without warning, more rotten than the one inside, caught on a small breeze coming in from the driveway. I let it into my nostrils while Joe's back was to me. I think age was making his farts better, even if they were further apart.

"You can have anything you want." Joe gestured across all of the stuff. "Anything!"

"Thanks. I'll have to look before I leave."

"Come here." Joe started towards the driveway. He was going to show me more stuff. I couldn't take much more talk about boring antiques and their dollar values.

I walked through the crowded garage to him. When I was almost there, Joe bent his knees. Pwarp-farp-PHRRP! He stood straight and laughed as I came up behind him. The smell caught me right away, and I silently let it into my senses. "How do you get me every time?"

"Still!" Joe chuckled as he waddled out to the other piles of boxes and stuff.

He continued to explain about his stuff, and I continued to listen the best I could. We finally went back inside without him farting again, but he did head straight for the bathroom.

It was getting late, so we put on a Christmas movie and got ice cream. They only had an extra-cushiony couch and loveseat now, instead of a separate chair for Joe.

I waited for him to come in before taking a seat. "Where do you usually sit?"

"Right here." Joe sat on the long, lounge part of the couch, kicked his big slippers off his bare feet, and put them up in front of him.

Mom sat on the loveseat, so I sat on the big, open spot left on the couch. I appreciated that it was closer to Joe.

He downed his ice cream before it could even get soft and set the bowl on his belly. Joe lifted one leg into the air. PHWRRRT! "Oops."

Mom didn't react, but I laughed. I got up with my bowl, still with a few bites left. "I can get you more, if you want."

"Yeah. Thanks." Joe held his bowl up. I bent to get it, entering his most recent skunky gas cloud.

I got both of us more ice cream and returned. Joe finished his quickly again and walked the bowl to the sink himself. He let out a large belch, and when he turned back, he was pushing up his sweatshirt to rub his belly.

"You didn't take your pill, did you?" Mom chastised.

"No, but I'll be fine." Joe stopped rubbing his belly, but his shirt stayed up. He walked back to the couch, but this time, he passed his seat and turned to stand in front of me.

A silent fart, the strongest of the day by a longshot, attacked me, and I gave a little cough as I took a bite of ice cream.

"Oh, Joe!" Mom yelled and fanned a hand.

"Aah!" Joe took his seat back with a jovial grin.

That moment was vital for me, because it felt like old Joe. I hoped he would continue to act like this the next two days I'd be here.

Continued in next part...

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

My Stepfather Joe: 2023 Christmas Special 2

Part One Here

18+

December 23, Morning

I woke in the twin bed in my mom's guestroom. Unfortunately, it was far removed from their bedroom and bathroom, so there was no chance of hearing Joe's morning farts.

Or so I thought.

As I came out of using the guest bathroom, I realized the house was silent. I checked the kitchen to find the coffee pot was full. Was I the first one up? That was strange. They'd always woken up so early.

I got a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, because it was close to their bedroom. I played on my phone for a little while, until I heard a door open and close. I looked behind me as Joe emerged, now wearing only shorts, pulled over his belly.

"Good morning!" He walked in with a smile and grabbed his own mug. "Sleep alright?"

"Yeah."

Joe strolled over to me and turned to fart inches in front of me. Prr-WRT! "Ah! Old Joe still got it, huh?"

I laughed without moving or fanning the smell. Way back when, I was certain he knew about my love of his gas, but now, he didn't seem to remember any of that. I guess it depended on perspective: farts took up a much bigger space in my brain than his...or most people's.

Joe put down his mug and crossed to the fridge, pulling out a bunch of stuff. "I'm gonna throw some shit together in a skillet: potatoes, eggs, sausage, bacon, peppers, onions, and cheese. Sound good?"

"Yeah." It sounded like it would make some great gas. I flashed back to the first time Joe had farted in my face, when I was reaching into a drawer to get onions for him. "Want help?"

"Sure." Joe stomped around the kitchen to prep all the necessary dishes.

I got up from the table. "Where's your Christmas tree?"

"Didn't get around to it." Joe handed me a knife and cutting board. "Your mom's been working, and I had to go five hours away for a load last week. Can you chop these up real good?"

He set onions and peppers in front of me, and I nodded. "Yep."

"And one more thing."

I looked up from my chopping as he gripped my arm. "Yeah?"

Joe leaned towards me, holding his breath. A grumbling fart thundered out of him for a few seconds, sputtering before it faded out. Joe heavily sighed and released my arm, chuckling.

It was the best one of this trip so far, exactly the satisfying sound I'd been waiting for. It came with the usual smell, maybe a touch worse than the norm. I laughed and continued chopping. "Hey, maybe the onions won't make me cry now."

"No, but the fart might!" Joe joked. I'd walked right into that one. Joe kept going, "It's bad in the mornings lately."

"Do you have ice cream before bed every night?"

Joe laughed out loud. "That might be it, but I don't take my pill, either. They block me up, and my head never stops pounding."

I tried not to look too happy. Fuck that pill. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't take it then, though I feel like you used to shit like six times a day."

"Probably more." Joe put the other things together in a big skillet and burped. "You can put 'em in now."

I used my knife to push peppers and onions into the skillet. Joe mixed it around and pointed his ass at me. PHRRRRT! "Ah!"

I didn't react to the fart, just enjoyed it. "Can I do anything else?"

Joe peeked around the room. "Put the dishes on the table."

I grabbed plates and forks and set three places at the table. I sat and sipped my coffee, though it was cold now.

Joe continued to cook, starting to whistle a tune. I checked my phone until Joe stopped whistling and started laughing. "Hey, come here."

"What happened?" I left my phone at the table. When I got close to him, I knew what had happened. He'd let a silent fart, an incredible, horrendous one that surrounded him.

Joe laughed at my surprised expression but then grabbed behind him. "Uh, I gotta go. Can I trust you to finish this?"

"Yeah." I took the spatula from him, laughing as he hurried to the bathroom inside the master bedroom. I enjoyed his last, deadliest fart, ecstatic that not much had changed with Joe.

...

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

My New Roommates

After leaving my fiance, I moved in with some friends on the other side of town. I'll call them Cam and Ron. So Cam is a chubby nerdy dude, and Ron is fit and attractive but not my usual type.

I've never heard Cam fart or even talk about farting, not before or since moving in. It seems weird, because I'm used to farting guys. I keep waiting for it, but it hasn't come yet.

Ron, on the other hand, I've heard fart more than a few times. They're mostly short and high-pitched, but they smell a bit like breakfast sausage and it's good. Ron doesn't say anything when he farts, but I have said "good one" and he said "thanks". I'm planning to get him to fart more. Hoping for longer, better ones.

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence

[gatzilksis-2]

Recent true fart experience #1:

My boyfriend and I went on a road trip to a city a few hours away. I still haven't told him about my fetish. He hasn't farted around me much, only in his sleep or by accident a couple times.

His friends are all guys, and the group talks about the farts of two friends in particular. I'll call them D & L. D looks like a chubby, hairy Hobbit, with a beard and round glasses. L is tall and fit, pale with pretty eyes, light brown hair, and a very nice ass. (My boyfriend knows I find him hot.)

This road trip included myself, my boyfriend, D, L, and my boyfriend's other two friends (who I don't really care for). Two of us to each vehicle, so no farts on the way.

The first thing we did was a music museum. The two friends I don't like drifted off while myself, my boyfriend, D, and L stayed together. We were in a dark room of the museum when I smelled a powerful fart. I looked up to see D and L covering their laughter.

"Who did it?" My boyfriend asked.

L raised his hand while D pointed at him. I'd always heard bigger asses made better farts. This was apparently true of L.

We all met up to eat halfway through the museum, going outside to a barbecue food truck. D and L, ever in sync, both got pulled pork sandwiches with pickles.

L finished first, then D finished and stood, stepping to the edge of the table with his butt facing the open air. He sighed, and his gas was caught by a breeze. I learned D's farts smelled somewhat like breakfast sausage, while L's were more sour and green. The whole table hollered at the unexpected wave of stink. D said, "I was trying to do it away from the table!"

We commenced the museum exploration, ending in the massive gift shop with too many souvenir options. My boyfriend had to use the restroom, so I stayed with D and L. As we walked through the gift shop, I found myself cropdusted, multiple farts layered on top of each other, following behind L. When we stopped to look at shirts, D whistled and pushed up his glasses. "That pork got ya, huh?"

We got done at the museum and left, separating to our different vehicles to head to the hotel.

We checked into the hotel and brought our stuff in. The six of us boarded the elevator, my boyfriend joking that we'd be too heavy for it. When it went up, L made his own joke, "Six big guys in an elevator after barbecue. What could go wrong?"

No one farted, unfortunately. Not in the elevator, at least. As soon as we got into the room, L farted across the suite, and D responded with his own short quack.

"Not already!" yelled one of the ones I don't like. Party pooper.

"I might have to shit." L paced to the bathroom, shutting the door and turning the fan on. The rest of us unpacked and arranged our stuff. L came out with a hand on his little pudgy belly. "False alarm. Just echoing farts in the bowl."

I laughed with the rest of them.

We left the hotel, again separately, this time for mini-golf where they brought you alcohol and food. We were on teams, split the same way as the vehicles. D took one of his turns, L standing beside him. Again, a fart was caught on the wind.

"Aw, who was that?" asked the other one I don't like, fanning his nose.

I blurted that it was D, because I knew exactly how his farts smelled. Everyone had a signature.

"How'd you know?" D asked me.

I played it cool and shrugged. "I guessed."

The alcohol came, and then the food. L ordered extreme nachos while D ordered a huge flatbread pizza. L was done with his first and threw back his beer. "That'll be bad later."

"Gee, I can't wait to sleep next to you," said D with heavy sarcasm.

"You know you love it," L teased D. Isn't it just awesome when great farters say shit like that?

We left mini-golf late and returned to the hotel to work out sleeping arrangements. My boyfriend and I took the pullout couch, only a couple feet removed from the bed of D and L.

The two I didn't like were in the other bed, all the way across the room. As soon as we were all in bed, L threw the covers off himself and cranked out a huge fart. Everyone laughed, until D smelled it and yelled "Oh God!" in a laughing manner.

The smell reached me, the same as L's prior farts but accentuated by the loaded nachos and beer. "Damn!"

"That sounded wet," chuckled D.

"I promise it's dry," said L.

There was a long lull of silence, covering several minutes. L flipped over in the bed and pushed his nice ass up in the air. He ripped another loud one, several seconds long.

"Oh no!" D's giggle made me laugh.

The second fart layered over the first.

"You're gonna suffocate us!" whined one of the other ones. He was joking, but ugh. You know? "This room already isn't big enough for six pairs of lungs."

Nerd.

"Here you go." D flipped over in the bed, ass pointed at L. His fart came out in three little parps.

"Can we go to sleep?" asked the other boring one.

"We're gonna knock each other out." L chuckled and slapped D a high-five.

"Very mature," Mr. Boring replied.

There was a long period with almost no noise. I usually fell asleep to a TV, but the boring twins requested silence.

A sudden fart made me jump, and L was laughing again. My boyfriend was snoring, the others were quiet, and D and I quietly laughed.

In the morning, I woke to the smell of L's morning shit emanating from the bathroom.

And unfortunately, we went home separately. I haven't seen D and L since, but they're my boyfriend's best friends so I'll definitely see them more. Hoping for more gas 🤞

#eproctophilia #farts #gatzilksis #eprocto #fart kink #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

10 Days Away

(this story includes fart kink and other adult elements)

Part One: 10 Hours Away

Chapter One: The First Stop

I sat in the back of a white SUV, next to my best friend Jimmy. I was the scrawny one. He was a bulky mix of fat and muscle, feathery brown hair and a pinkish face with a kept goatee and rectangular glasses.

Jimmy's mother Anna sat in front of him, and her husband was driving. Kyle was Jimmy's stepfather, a heavy, tall man with a thick beard. He took up every inch of his seat.

Jimmy and I had been best friends since high school. We were well over adults now, both of us 23. He was the only person I could never tire of. We always had fun, and we always laughed our asses off.

A heavy, guttural smell hit me. I glanced at Jimmy, who was already grinning. I was used to the intense smell of his gas, though sometimes he pushed it beyond my limit.

"Oh, James!" Anna rolled down her window, fanning a hand in front of her face. "Please don't stink up the car on this trip, you two!"

She wasn't referring to me but Kyle. The bear-like stepfather was also gifted in the fart department, though I couldn't stand his. Too bad.

"This'll be the longest trip we've taken together." Jimmy got into another lane and scratched his beard. "I'll try to hold it for stops."

"Thank you." Anna grasped Kyle's free hand.

"Are we getting food?" Jimmy yelled.

"If you stop shitting," Kyle responded, a smirk cutting through his facial hair.

"I can't promise anything," Jimmy returned, bumping my shoulder with his own. "Ask Zac. I never hold it."

"True," I confirmed.

"It's about respect, son," said Kyle.

"Well, respect that I fart a lot." Jimmy shrugged emphatically.

Fifteen minutes later, we stopped at a rest area to eat some fast food at a picnic table. Anna was afraid we'd make a mess in the car. He might've been smelly, but Jimmy wasn't messy.

"You know we're not kids anymore?" Jimmy asked his mother.

"You'll always be kids to me, James," she replied.

BWOOOOORRRT!

The sound emanated from the bench beside her, where Kyle's obese form leaned away from his wife. Her mouth fell open.

"Bad idea!" Jimmy and I chimed in unison.

Anna gasped and coughed, only seconds before Kyle's hot garbage and egg fart reached across the table.

Anna turned away to cough more and spat in the grass. She turned back to Kyle with a glare and her lips in a straight, serious line.

He shrugged as he grabbed for his triple cheeseburger in the bag. "It's a stop, ain't it?"

"You're not funny." Anna slid away from him, grabbing her salad bag.

"I think he's funny." I took two medium fries out of our bag and set two burgers in front of Jimmy. It was our constant for fast food; I took his fries, he took my burger.

"Don't encourage him," said Anna.

We fell into silence as we ate. I looked around at other people at the rest area. I had a feeling much of the trip would be gassy, especially after this meal.

"I can't wait to get to the cabin," I said. "I can't stop looking at the pictures."

"Don't get too excited." Kyle burped and smiled. "My brothers are gonna give you so much hell."

"For being gay?" I asked.

"No. It's just what they do." Jimmy rolled his eyes behind a glare on his spectacles.

"And fart, just like him." Anna pushed Kyle's shoulder.

He closed one eye and leaned forward. VWAAAMP! Anna slapped his arm again, and Kyle laughed into his burger.

"Farts sound so funny on picnic benches." Jimmy's mouth was full, but I was fluent in full-mouth. To prove his point, he leaned to point his ass towards me. BRRR-WAP!

"James!" Anna exclaimed in the exact way she had hundreds of times before.

"We want them to get it all out now, right?" I bit a pinch's worth of fries. Jimmy's stink was hot and thick, but I'd been smelling that smell for seven years.

"That's not how digestion works, Zac." Kyle talked with his mouth full, too. Crumbs from the bun and salt from the fries were stuck in his beard. "It'll take a lil bit for all the red meat and cheese to kick in."

"You're so gross." Anna stood with her empty salad container and bag, throwing them in the closest trash can. "I'm gonna use the bathroom. You guys should try, so we won't have to stop as soon."

"I'll have to stop to fart," said Kyle.

"Oh God." Anna rolled her eyes and walked towards the small brick building.

Kyle swallowed his last bite and stood. He walked to the trash can and threw his stuff away, then turned and walked back. This time, however, Kyle headed towards our side of the table.

"Incoming!" I shouted.

Jimmy put his head down as Kyle jogged past us. FWRRMP-BLRRT-PWRRT!

I stood and hurried away from the table, before his cropdusting could enter my senses. Kyle was a notorious cropduster, but only when Anna wasn't around.

I threw mine and Jimmy's bag into a different trashcan. I wasn't going to follow the path of the fart. Kyle's farts stank so bad, and I suddenly became worried about the rest of the ten-hour drive.

#eproctophilia #farts #gatzilksis #eprocto #fart kink #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

Recent true fart experience #3:

last true experience

I settled in to my new job well. I got along with my constant coworker, a female, and I met all the other male kitchen employees. It took a while before I met one I pegged as a farter; Todd.

Todd was an older guy, in his fifties with gray hair under a backwards hat. He was tall and tan, with a big belly that peeked out the bottom of his shirt and a thick ass. His eyes were wide and blue, and his chubby face was adorned with a thin gray goatee.

Todd spoke with a booming voice, always making manly sort of jokes and heartily chuckling. One morning, I went into the cooler after him, to grab something I needed. He walked in a funny way to the right, and I heard three clear farts over the running fans.

Todd stopped and saw me, grinning. "Shit, man. I came in here to fart."

"Yeah. I got that." I laughed so he'd know I was cool with it. The problem was, the fans quickly eliminated any shred of a smell.

A few days later, I walked to the back to get a new trash can, noticing Todd standing in the chemical room. br-WRRR-RRAAAW! It was loud, the sound of it strange but so sexy to me. I love when farts make funny noises, especially when they're loud.

I thought of something my dad used to say and smiled to myself. "Get any on ya?"

"If I did, there's plenty o' soap in here!" Todd hollered back, already laughing at himself.

Maybe a week later, I got off work when Todd was pulling in to work the closing shift. I approached his truck, and he rolled down the window. I came close, and a wave of stink overcame me. It was several thick, manly farts, meaty and toxic and reminiscent of a sewage plant from my childhood. It was one of the sexiest smells I'd encountered in years.

"What's wrong?" Todd teased me, knowing exactly what was wrong. Little did he know how right it was for me.

"What did you eat?" I asked.

"I don't remember," Todd shrugged and chuckled. "It don't fuckin matter anymore. That's what happens when you get old. Grandpa farts."

"Shut up. You're not that old," I said. "And you're not a grandpa, are you?"

"Fuck no," Todd emphatically responded. He shut off his engine. "I don't even have kids. Get back. I'm getting out."

I stepped back from his door, letting him get out in front of me. He leaned back in to grab his Mountain Dew. PRRR-PWRRT! "Ope!"

He'd farted right in front of me, right as I was staring at his fat ass. Todd stood up and started to walk up to the restaurant.

"Thanks for that." I presented it as a joke, but I genuinely meant it. He'd left behind a small bit of the truck smell, and I savored it.

He waved back, now close to the building. "Anytime!"

Next time!

More manager Manny

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

Recent true fart experience #7:

Got two for you again.

1. Cam - One of my roommates, a chubby nerdy dude. I witnessed one of his farts for the first time the other day. I didn't hear it, but I walked into the kitchen to find the air stinking pretty badly, like garbage and a dirty bathroom. Cam was unloading the dishwasher. I asked if he'd farted. He said "Sorry. I thought it went away." I said "Don't apologize. Fart as much as you want."

Unfortunately, he hasn't yet, but it's only been a couple days.

2. My boyfriend Regan - He's been farting more lately. Lucky me. Not only does he fart in his sleep every night, but the other day he farted sitting beside me three times while we were watching a movie. The smell wasn't too strong, but it was still there. Regan didn't apologize, only laughed and made a comment after lifting his ass to rip the third one: "I'm gassy today."

Then yesterday, I was getting coffee in the kitchen. Regan came in and stood right beside me without saying anything. There was no sound, only a much thicker smell than the couch farts. I smiled at it and said "Oh my god." Regan just chuckled and walked away.

I can't stop reliving it in my head, and I want to tell him about my fetish. I just don't want to chance ruining things.

#gatzilksis #farts #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence

[gatzilksis-2]

My Stepfather Joe: 2023 Christmas Special 4

Last Part Here

18+

December 23, Evening

The sun was down, and Joe drove to the Christmas lights. Apparently it was several miles of impressive displays. I wasn't much for Christmas lights, but it sounded alright.

Joe gave tickets to yet another elf at a ticket booth and drove ahead. He took a big sip of his huge hot chocolate, slowing down under a canopy of colorful lights. "Wow!"

Mom and I agreed, but I knew it would get old fast. I sipped my coffee with my phone out. I should've started secretly recording, but I never think about it in the moment.

Because it didn't take long for Joe to lean and fart. It was just a little one, but the smell matched any other. Mom hit her window button, but it didn't move. "Don't even!"

Joe rolled his eyes and cracked her window with a smirk. I wished she could've let it go.

The trail of lights continued on, many made to look like characters in moving scenes. Nothing I hadn't seen before.

Joe continued to sip on his hot chocolate. "I think there's too much milk in this." A fart shook his seat.

Mom's window cracked again. "Chocolate is made with milk, dear."

"You know what I mean." Joe set the cup in a holder. He slowed the car down and looked around, not caring as his skunky fart crawled outwards from him. "Do we gotta do the whole thing?"

"I guess not, if you don't wanna," said Mom, but her tone was disappointed. "You gotta poop?"

"Not yet, but I farted again." Joe cracked his own window as a far more poisonous fart spread. "Even I think that's bad."

I didn't crack a window in the back. It was awesome to me.

"You need to shit," said Mom, not a question this time.

"Yep." Joe sped up and took a turn.

We were home twenty minutes later, after stopping at a gas station. Joe went straight to the kitchen. "Pizza's coming soon. I gotta get some shit ready for tomorrow."

We ate the pizza when it came, just two regular supreme. Unfortunately, there wasn't another fart until the morning.

...

#farts #gatzilksis #eproctophilia #fart kink #eprocto #flatulence #fart fiction #fart stories #male fart fiction #male fart stories

[gatzilksis-2]

My Stepfather Joe: 2023 Christmas Special 3

Last Part Here

18+

December 23, Day

Joe came back with Mom, and we all ate together.

"Plans for today?" Joe asked over his empty plate.

I was still working on mine, and so was Mom. "The Christmas Village and then lights, right?"

"Sounds good to me," I said. "It's like a little mock town, right?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," said Mom. Joe got up with his dishes.

"They might think you're Santa," I joked.

Joe shot a short fart in my direction. "Ho ho ho, bitch!"

"Joe!" Mom yelled, while I laughed.

I finished and rinsed my dishes. "We're not going yet, are we?"

"After lunch." Joe burped as he refilled his plate.

We decided to watch another Christmas movie. Mom and I went in first, and Joe joined us after inhaling his second plate. He stood in the center of the room, two feet away from me, watching Mom scroll streaming apps. "How about It's A Wonderful Life?"

"Ew," said Mom.

"Boring," I agreed.

"You know, when an angel farts, it gets its wings," Joe quipped.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Will you sit down?"

Joe turned his head to her, meeting her eyes with a huge grin as he ripped a deep one.

Mom shook her head, giving up and choosing a movie at random, Home Alone. Joe finally sat down, unfortunately without farting again.

By the end of the movie, Joe had fallen asleep. His shorts were too big for him now, and they'd fallen to expose his full belly. It was slightly smaller than the huge, impressive thing I'd admired long ago, but it was still awesome.

Mom and I put on sitcom reruns and continued to catch up with each other. Joe slept for about half an hour. He woke slowly and sat up, pushing himself up with both hands. As soon as his ass left the couch, he was farting. FLRRP-flrrr-wrrrt!

"Ah, yeah!" Joe stretched in the center of the kitchen, his belly jiggling just like it used to. "Lunchtime! We got chicken salad, tuna salad, potato salad, and macaroni salad."

"A bunch of chickens and now a bunch of salads." I followed Joe into the kitchen, only to take in his trail of gas.

He got the containers of various salads from the fridge and set them all out with a loaf of bread and a stack of paper plates. Joe loaded up a plate and turned to wink at me. "You like all that stuff, right?"

"Yeah." I went ahead to get my food, and Mom joined me. We sat with Joe together, and I laughed at my plate. "At least there's no egg salad. Joe doesn't need that."

Mom and Joe laughed. I was surprised Joe didn't respond with some gross, awesome comment.

We finished the sandwiches with no farts. I went to shower as Mom did the same in their bathroom. I dressed and walked out to find Joe dressed in a gray sweater, sweatpants, and his trusty slippers. "Just waiting on your mom now."

I nodded and sat down beside him. I smiled at a fresh fart in the air. "How far is the Christmas Village?"

"With traffic? Half hour."

"Cool." I'd hoped for a longer ride, but I couldn't have everything.

Mom came out, and we walked outside and up the packed driveway. Joe had a big black truck now, for his business. He headed for it, but Mom pulled out her own keys. "No, honey. More room."

We got into her SUV instead. It felt weird to sit in the back seat; I hadn't in years.

Joe and Mom got in, Joe still insisting on driving. He hated being a car passenger. Joe set off down the winding road. I held on for dear life. "Jesus!"

"Ha!" Joe yelled. "I'm so used to it. Your mom takes it like a grandma."

Mom smacked his chest. Joe responded by lifting his ass and farting. BWART-fwrrrt! "I'm trying to drive! Jesus!"

"Can we stop yelling Jesus on Christmas, please!" Mom yelled.

Joe and I laughed as his fart took over the vehicle. It was the perfect sour, heavy, skunky scent only my stepfather's insides could make. Mom quietly cracked her window. Thankfully, it definitely didn't feel like winter outside.

Mom put her window up a little down the highway. Joe was grinning the whole time, and he glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "That was a blast from the past."

He farted against his seat. All three of us laughed, though Mom's window went down again. I had missed this. Adult life became so sad sometimes, it was good to be back in the exact place I'd been in my happiest memories.

Joe parked in a lot beside the Christmas Village. It looked exactly as it sounds, a bunch of small buildings designed to look like those infamous Christmas miniatures collected by grandparents everywhere.

I followed them to the gate, where elves took the tickets Joe had printed from their old desktop computer. We fell into the crowd moving in one direction, touring the Village. "It doesn't feel right, being so warm."

"You're telling me." Mom was already fanning herself.

Joe continued to walk ahead, while Mom kept wanting to go in everywhere. We got some caramel corn and watched some creepy animatronic carolers and families. Finally, we got to the line for Santa.

"You wanna go?" Joe asked me, a grown man.

"Wait, you're not Santa?" I joked.

Joe stepped in front of me and backed up, letting out a clear blast of a fart. Mom gasped as nearby people looked. She whispered, "Joe!"

"What, they never heard a fart before?" Joe laughed and lightly pushed my shoulder. "You deserved that."

"Whatever, Santa," I replied.

We came to realize there wasn't much to the Christmas Village, not when it was too warm for snow-related things. Mom wanted to complete the entire thing, so we did. As we walked out, Joe got ahead of me and farted step after step. I tried to count, but they stopped after a few more. I wasn't sure if Mom had even noticed, but I followed Joe with a sniff.

"Damn caramel corn. Makes me pop like popcorn." Joe chuckled at his own funny and unlocked the SUV. "Still got about an hour to dark. Wanna go ahead and eat?"

"We just did!" Mom got in the passenger side.

Joe and I got in together and shut our doors. I leaned between the seats. "Can I get coffee somewhere?"

"Ooh, I'll get a hot chocolate." Joe started the engine.

I wasn't sure what was coming, but the lights could be great. And then tomorrow, Christmas Eve, we would eat all that real good food, and Joe's farts would be at max power.

...

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