Fart story oneshots!

Emma Tries to Help (Part 4.)

"Aw, you look so confused," Watson said, laughing softly. "In any other circumstances, you'd love for me to take off my jeans for you. You still want my little booty, but that's okay. I still have plenty of gas, and you've got the perfect face to sit on, so I think we can make this work somehow..."

She regarded him for a few seconds as he lay on the floor recovering, a tiny smile on her face. Raphael breathed heavily, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. What did she just say? Take her jeans off? His cock was becoming harder and harder to ignore by the second. It was now downright painful, and seeing her beautiful face looking down at him with that classic Watson smirk that she was so good at wasn't helping. Neither was what she had just told him, or the lingering scent of eggs and shit that clung to the air and filled Raphael's lungs.

He decided he was going to have to go through this one way or another, and sneak to the bathroom again once Emma Watson was finished with him so he could deal with the painful situation in his pants. He sat up, blinking slowly, and Watson's smile grew. Another ominous grumble sounded from her stomach.

"Look at you," she said as he put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Ready for another round, are we?"

"Co...could we take a break, please?" Raphael asked weakly, unable to meet her eyes.

"Take a break?" Watson raised her eyebrows. "Do you think I took a break all those times I acted in theatre as a little girl? Do you think I took a break while preparing for my first Harry Potter audition? Or any of the auditions after?"

Raphael slowly shook his head.

"No, Raphael, I didn't, and neither will you, because that is how this is done." She reached out a hand and affectionately ruffled his hair. "We don't take breaks, do we?"

Raphael slowly shook his head.

"Right," she said, standing up. "Now get onto the bed, you're going to eat my farts."

Raphael sighed, resigning to the fact that he might not get relief for a while, and started to get up. The king sized bed was still pushed against the wall, its sheets neatly made in preparation for the next shoot. Emma Watson's hands travelled to the waistband of her jeans and undid the button. Then her fingers tugged at her zipper, and slowly slid it down. Her pants slid down an inch once the zipper was open, revealing the black lace of her panties underneath.

"What are you looking at me for?" she said suddenly, smirking playfully. "Get on the bed, go on! Lie on your back."

Raphael tore his gaze away from her hips, and turned to the bed. He stood up, his cock pressing against his pants, and slowly started walking towards the far end of the bedroom set. As he neared the bed, he heard a rustling noise behind him that sounded a lot like a pair of jeans sliding down some slender legs and hitting the floor. He wanted to turn around, but he didn't. Reaching the edge of the bed, he took a deep breath, trying and failing to prepare himself for what was about to happen, and then climbed on.

He lay down on his back, and finally turned his head, giving into the urge to look at Watson. She was marching towards him, and Raphael found himself spellbound by the sway of her hips, the lace panties that adorned them, and the way her chest jiggled ever so slightly with each step, covered by her white crop-top.

Her messy ponytail swung from side to side as she walked up to the bed, and as she drew closer, Raphael's heart started beating faster. She reached the edge of the bed and looked down at him and he could barely make out the fragrance of her perfume through the scent of her gas that permeated the set. She climbed onto the bed and knelt next to his face. Her arm moved to his chest and her fingers gently touched him.