Fart story oneshots!

A Romantic Dutch Oven

This is my first original story. I probably won't make a habit of writing these unless there's a really positive response. I've never thought of myself as any kind of writer.

Introduction.

Me and my girlfriend have always had a strange dynamic. She's naturally not a shy girl at all, and after seeing me a couple times decided she didn't have to hide her bodily functions anymore. Now she burps and farts around me as if I weren't there, and there's nothing strange about her peeing with the door open at our place.

I find it kind of romantic, honestly—that level of intimacy. Maybe that's why after some time I really became enamored by these cute farts of hers. Strange as it sounds, I began to find this quirk attractive, and I secretly began to enjoy her farting around me until one day I realized she'd gifted me a new fetish.

And of course, though I longed to tell her truth, I could never seriously admit something so ludicrous, and I've resigned myself to a private enjoyment whenever I'm lucky enough to be in her vicinity when she lets one loose.

One day I was particularly lucky.

The Story

She was feeling particularly gassy that day. We were in bed together watching stupid youtube videos and reading clickbait when she let out a great fart, followed by a girlish giggle.

"I think the house may have moved with that one" she laughed.

In my opinion she hadn't overestimated its power by much, since beside her I had been suffering tremendously with a solid hard-on for the past 30 minutes of this barrage, getting harder and harder with each passing fart. They were certainly having an effect on me, and I was beginning to lose my cool.

Suddenly she took control of the computer and clicked on a link about James Joyce's notorious love-letters to Nora Joyce.

"Look at this, honey! Did you know James Joyce was actually attracted to his wife's gas? Can you imagine that?" She asked.

"He'd probably think you were a dream come true if he'd met you." I tried to be playful, but I was a little uneasy.

"Ha-ha, very funny. But seriously, it's actually kind of sweet isn't it? He loved his wife so much he even loved her so-called 'farties.' Read here—he even says that he could pick out his wife's in a room full of farting women! Oh, it's so romantic, isn't it?" And then she paused.

I saw her deliberate in her head before looking at me and asking a question.

"Do you think you could ever love me that much?"

I was completely bowled over by that. Suddenly I was face-to-face with a truth I'd been yearning to tell her for ages. I sensed now was the time if ever to tell her honestly, but I was still cautious.

"Y-you know I love everything about you, and I-I...About your farts, w-well, I don't know, since they're yours and they c-come from you..." I was incredibly nervous. "I think I could, you know, learn to love your farts too."

I managed to spit it out, but good God she must have thought I was completely retarded. But was I too obvious? Will she think I'm a creep? I hope it was ambiguous enough where I could just say I was trying to pay her a compliment if she's not into it.

"You could? You really care about me that much?"

I had tell the truth. This chance might never come again.

More confidently I said, "I think I'm already in love with your farting. I've really grown to find it charming, you know."

I couldn't discern any reaction on her face at first. She seemed to be thinking, but eventually she looked at me and told me something unforgettable.