
We were just hanging out. And I could feel the pressure building in my belly. The farts started slipping out and I saw the way you looked at me. I knew. You were getting hard. So I led you to the bedroom. I stripped down to my bra and panties slowly teasing. I started moving my hips, swaying, moaning as more gas slipped out of me. You watched my body, my curves, my ass... and I watched you. I could see what it was doing to you. Every fart made you harder. And every time I moaned, you lost a little more control. I wanted to give you something unforgettable. So I told you when to stroke. When to edge. When to cum. This was not a performance. This was me, turned on by how badly you want me, even gassy.