We finished eating some mexican food, and we start working on some paper work together. I have to fart really bad and ask you to grab us some coffee. While you're gone I start to let them rip. You come back and think you heard something. I insist you didn't. After trying to hold them in a little I ask you to grab us some snacks. I start letting them rip again, the room is starting to stink so I spray some air freshner. You come in and notice the stench. I blame the trash. We start working again, and I try to cover the farts with sneezes, coughs, and talking. You catch on, and assure me its fine. You don't mind. I start getting comfortable and letting them rip as they please, sometimes jokingly asking you to pull my finger. I notice you're hard, and ask why. You tell me you have a fart fetish. I don't judge though. That just means I can fart whenever I want around you. Later, I change into comfy shorts since my leggings are hurting my bloated stomach. I come back and joke around, farting right next to your face. You're officially my fart boy.
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