Julianne's Ride

by Callipygia

Julianne pondered the gastric activities that causes flatulence for a moment. It’s such a viscerally satisfying feeling to fart, she thought. There’s a tension and a build-up, and then the gut-pleasing release as you finally let it go. The more uncomfortable the build-up, the more pleasing the final release. A bit of a sauna effect, she thought. Saunas don’t actually feel good to be in, any more than being in the middle of the Sahara at high noon would feel. But damn it felt good when you finally came out of one, and the longer you stay in, the better it feels when you finally come out.

The tension in Julianne’s bowels was very high at that moment. She could easily have let out the wind that was building, and it would have felt great, but she had to hold it, wanted to hold just a bit longer. It would feel just that much better when she let it go. The pressure was accentuated by the pillow just under her hips, as it pressed into her lower belly. She tried to relax, but her taught abdominal muscles had to work hard to help her retain the building gas.

The pressure was so great now that the smooth silk of her sheets against her naked skin failed to soothe her, and she could almost not feel the lips pressing gently, but insistently against the cheeks of her bottom. Earlier, when she was not so intent on managing her bowels, she savored the soft give of those lips as they repeatedly showered her with loving, warm, giving, kisses that lingered on her ass like small puddles of rain drying in a hot sun after a late afternoon summer shower.

She knew then that this guy was good. He was a catch, at least in this arena. She had noticed him at the club, staring at her, at the exclusion of almost all the other girls. The strobe like lighting showing an almost reserved fascination with her as she danced on the walkway, twirled on the brass pole, gyrating her hips. Every girl learns to survey the audience, usually of drunken men ranging in age from the early twenties to mid-forties to find a “mark”, a guy whose enthusiasm for the show outweighs his better judgment. Often they are drunk, almost always obnoxious or silly or just plain stupid. The mark was the surest way to increase your pay that night, as you rack up extra cash, often a LOT of extra cash with lap dances and outrageously over-priced drinks that you split the profit with the club.

Ryan was different though. He seemed completely in control of all of his faculties, and the only thing that gave his interest in her away was the quiet intensity with which he followed her around the room, even when she’d gone off-stage into the crowd. She’d meandered over to him after working a few dances with poor slobs just dying to part with their money just to feel her rub her ass into their laps for a few seconds.

“Want a lap dance, sweetheart?” she’d asked.

Ryan had waved his finger to get her to draw close so that he could talk in her ear.

“I had something else in mind.”

“Oh, really? Like what?” she’d answered. She was intrigued by his sobriety if nothing else. It was rare. Still, it made her a tad nervous too. Because it was so rare.

“I’d like to see you after you’re done tonight for something, um…” he paused and looked around the room for a moment, “…special.”

Red flags went up immediately in Julianne’s head. She wasn’t about to start fraternizing with the patrons outside of the club. It was bad for business, and potentially bad for your health.

“I think you’ve got me mistaken for a prostitute,” she retorted, and began to move away.

“Wait,” he called, but she could barely hear him and got her distance quickly.

Back stage Julianne told Rox what happened. Rox batted her false eyelashes, perhaps the style when she danced, but looking especially tawdry on her over-made-up, aging face now.

“Oh, that’s Ryan Lister, he’s a regular. He’s no harm. Huge ass fetish. He doesn’t want to have sex with you — I guess unless you want it. He’s interested in something else. We call him Ryan Lister, the ass kisser!”

Julianne laughed out loud, “Holy crap! That’s what that was all about?”

“Yeah,” said Rox, “but you should feel honored. He doesn’t approach girls in here normally. He must really be impressed with you.” Rox glanced down to Julianne’s nearly naked body and smiled. “I can see why. Actually, it’s the girls that approach him.”

“Why would that be?” Julianne asked. Dancers never approached patrons. It was against all better judgment.

“Well, he’s a good guy. He’s good-looking. Very kind. For most of the girls, he’s the kind of guy they’d want to meet in civilian life.”

“So what’s he doing in here?” Julianne subscribed to the common theory in the exotic dance world that if a guy’s gawking at naked girls in a strip club, he’s just the kind of dirt bag you’d want to avoid. Especially the regulars.

“Ryan’s a widower. Lost his wife in a car accident about 3 years ago. He’s just never gotten over it. He started coming here I dunno, maybe 2 years or so ago. All the girls got to know him, and they just about all grew to like him. Some even fell for him a bit I think.”

“So what’s with the ‘ass-kisser’ part?” Julianne was now amused.

“Ryan’s a huge ass-man. He’s openly obsessed with them. All the girls know how to make him happy, if you know what I mean, and it’s well worth it. He’s an overgenerous tipper, and he’s never obnoxious like most of the assholes out there. Always respectful. Anyway, he started paying a lot of attention to one of the girls, a girl named Rebecca — she went by the name Stardust on stage. Anyway, she was quite willing to reciprocate his attention, and they had a fling for a couple of months. Eventually he broke it off with her, and she was so distraught over it, she quit the club. I heard she moved out to New Jersey.”

Rox lit a cigarette and immediately branded it with her bright red lipstick.

“Anyway, Rebecca let it slip that he was sensational in bed, that his favorite thing to do was put her on a pedestal and treat her like a princess sexually. Apparently he’d go down on her forever, but that wasn’t all.”

Strange how even experienced girls can find themselves revert from their pre-professional personalities at times. Julianne had only been dancing for a few months, but had been on-stage enough that she definitely considered herself a pro. Still she found Rox’s raw talk embarrassing. She blushed and raised a hand as if to say, Enough! She let out a laugh and shook her head as if she was still trying to take it all in. But she was intrigued.

After a moment, she said, “OK, ‘that wasn’t all’? What else?”

“She told us he was an unbelievable ass-kisser, and hinted that there was a VERY kinky side to him, but she wouldn’t divulge what exactly she meant by that.” Rox paused to pick a lint out of the mascara in one of her false eyelashes. “One thing’s for sure, he treated her right. Lavished gifts on her. Guy’s loaded. Drives a new Jaguar.”

Now she was speaking every dancer’s language. Every girl was in it for the money, at least at a place like this. It was too much of a hole-in-the-wall to offer any of the glamour or the distance most exhibitionists need in order to truly enjoy the work. No, it was a business, it was about money. Money bought freedom and a chance to eventually leave the life behind, and almost recapture some of the innocence they lost in the business, if they could get far enough away to hide the past long enough that no one found out about it.

Julianne had to admit that it was more than the potential money and gifts that now drew her to Ryan. He was a curious and sympathetic guy, without being a pathetic one. He stuck out of this crowd like a sore thumb. And the fact that he was a regular, because of WHY he was a regular actually tugged at her heartstrings a bit.

So Julianne went back out to the crowd, and once again worked her way back over to Ryan. She approached behind him and leaned over so she could whisper in his ear, “Still want to see me after I’m done tonight?”

Now, 4 months later, Julianne had come to find out first hand just how different and special Ryan was. She didn’t even care about the money and the gifts, but they were nice. She just liked being treated the way Ryan treated her. She had pretty much given up on any sort of personal life since she got in the business since virtually every guy she tried to date would either balk immediately upon finding out what she did, or try to beg, cajole, or threaten her to get her to quit dancing. But dancing was something that empowered her. It gave her her own means to financial freedom. And she was smart with the money. No drugs, no drinking, no extraneous spending. She lived frugally and quickly developed more than six figures in assets that she saved and invested wisely. She could have quit at any time, but the money was addictive.

But Ryan never asked her to quit. Never even hinted at it. She eventually got the impression that he actually liked it in some weird way. But Ryan was all about being unusual, and this became very clear early on in bed.

She quickly found out just how appropriate the ass-kisser moniker was for Ryan. Ryan wasn’t just good at it, he was unbelievable. Not just his technique but the whole atmosphere he spun it in. It was his attitude that made it work. When he kissed her ass, it was in the most adoring, even obsequious way. He made sure that she understood that it was an act of submission, but somehow managed to do it in a way that made her want to love him. The bottom line was, if Ryan was into you and he spent enough time with you, he could pretty much convince you your shit didn’t stink.

He taught her over time that he loved stroking her ego when he kissed her ass, and he wanted her to feel dominant. She eventually came to accept his ministrations for the homage they were meant to be, and she came to realize that he was really trying to invoke an arrogance in her. His tongue felt so good on her, and was so slave-like in the way he would lap at her, she eventually got the message that he enjoyed it most as a worshipful, even demeaning act.

He managed to push her buttons just right, revealing over time the true nature of his sexual desires in a way that made those desires her own. As he yielded to her body increasingly, she came to find that she enjoyed that yielding increasingly. He confessed to her that he liked pretending he was her slave when he kissed her ass, and she told him he wouldn’t have to pretend any more.

She marveled over his willingness to taste her bodily fluids and functions. He once insisted on licking her pussy clean after she peed, because they had no toilet paper in the house. She readily agreed and savored the feeling of his hot tongue on her as he licked her to two consecutive orgasms while kneeling before her as she sat open-legged on the toilet.

This ushered in a new era to the sex that was increasingly kinky. Ryan seemed to like to taste her before she showered more than after, and she became curious about finding where his limits were. She’d definitely fallen in love with him, and the sexual pedestal he had placed her on, while still retaining her respect, was a big part of the reason why. He made her feel beautiful, and spoiled.

It was wonderful coming home from a job in which she stripped in front of other men, only to have her man fully accept it, and kiss her ass and go down on her while she discussed her evening. She liked the freedom of never worrying about whether or not she was clean or whether she smelled around him. The fact that he seemed to prefer her unclean seemed hot and kinky to her. Sometimes the stink on his breath would be enough to make her marvel over how much he adored sucking on her body, no matter how dirty she might be. And that felt great.

Then one day she came home from the club not feeling so well. She’d been having stomach cramps and was feeling like she might be coming down with some sort of stomach virus. He had her lie down and gave her a massage like he did every night, and then, predictably he started to kiss his way down her back. She knew what that meant, and normally would have been excited to accept that particularly selfish oral massage, but her illness made her not quite in the mood.

“Not tonight, Ry,” she’d said. “I think something went down the wrong way tonight.”

“Well, let me see if I can make you feel better,” was his response, that wonderful coy smile on his face.

“No, no. You don’t understand, I’ve been breaking wind all night. I’ll blast you!,” and she gave a weak smile.

“Yeah? Let’s see if you do.”

Suddenly she felt too tired to argue. If he wanted to risk being farted on, so be it. She didn’t really believe he’d actually proceed anyway.

But he did. And she just went with it. He stripped her naked, and then continued his trail of kisses down her spine. When he got to the top of the crack of her ass, though, as good as it felt, she felt she had to stop him. She started to roll out from under him but he grabbed her and held her still.

“I’m serious!” she cried. “I’ve been farting all night. It’s embarrassing. I think I’m getting a stomach flu or something.”

“Well, if it really hurts—“ he started.

“It doesn’t hurt exactly. It’s just that, well I’m really gaseous.”

He just bent his head down and kissed the top of the little cleft where her ass cheeks met and said simply, “Let that be my problem, OK?”

“Your problem?” she’d asked softly.

“Yes, my problem,” he continued. “If I can’t keep my nose out of trouble and something…” he paused, “…happens, let me worry about it. It’s not like you didn’t warn me, right? I’ll be alright, OK? I promise. I want to do this anyway.”

Reluctantly, she said, “OK, but…”

“Shhhhhhhh!” he soothed.

She shut her mouth and felt his breathing on her ass, and then after a moment she felt those wonderful lips press into her backside cleavage.

“I’m serious,” she protested with weakening resolve. “I might fart right in your face.” Then she added with a tired giggle, “Make you eat one of my farts.”

His kisses increased in passion, and he broke free long enough to croak, “You do whatever your little heart desires…”

Julianne had remembered smiling involuntarily, like a child that can’t help laughing when they are in trouble, and saying, “OK, you asked for it!”

She was remembering that first time now. And she had to admit, even now, it’s a strange feeling farting in someone else’s face. You just feel so self-consciousness, feeling that urge to break wind and feeling their face so close to your ass. No matter what the mood leading up to that situation, when it actually happens, you can’t help but wonder if the person is going to think you’re sick, or that you stink, are they going to get sick, will they be disgusted by you, so many thoughts racing through your head. With Ryan, he just seemed to enjoy her body scents so much, with such relish, in such a slavish, please do it again sort of manner, that those self-conscious feelings were very faint. Hell, he’d already tasted her piss, she reasoned, even if it was just a few residual drops.

Nevertheless those feelings were still there, so that first time was actually very tense. Until she finally released her gas. Ryan actively sucked on her asshole as she farted and sucked the wind right out of her, literally. So her first fart was not merely in his face, it was in his mouth! He continued to nurse on her ass as she felt more gas build up, and his eagerness to taste her flatulence overrode all of her inhibitions.

Leaving her with a completely different set of feelings to experience. First of all, once you lost that self-conscious feeling, the most over-whelming emotion you feel is arrogance. At least she did. After all, once you weren’t worried about what he thought of it, you realized it really is an incredibly rude thing for one person to do to another. Even now as she thought about him having to take her gas right into his mouth, of him kissing her ass, open-mouthed, French-style, in itself an already thoroughly demeaning activity in a certain light, only to have her reward his worship by farting right into his mouth, she had to smile.

Secondly, it really did stink. Especially that first time. She wasn’t feeling completely up to par gastrically, and that first fart was a real wet stinker. She couldn’t imagine what it might feel like for someone to actually let loose something like that into your mouth. She imagined that the experience was pretty shitty, actually.

Which brought her to a third reaction. It felt really mean to do. Cruel. It was purposefully degrading. And it was no accident. She had just opened her bowels into his face, into his mouth, and subjected him to one of her worst bodily stenches. But his open acceptance, even encouragement, and had made her enjoy it in a completely nasty, selfish, cruel way. She remembered it was the way she could feel him literally sucking on her asshole as she blasted him that sent her over the edge.

Finally, she had another reaction she hadn’t anticipated. She had always found his particular kinky weaknesses for her hot and erotic, but this particular experience truly turned her on, and so she reached down and began to lightly rub her moistening clit as she felt him continue to suck gas out of her asshole. Then he plunged his tongue as deep inside her as he could, and she came.

It was an intense orgasm like she had never experienced before. It had a nasty edge to it, and the sheer visceral feeling was that of being eaten alive, swallowed whole, as though her entire being was being consumed by this man, warmth, beauty, come, warts, gas, piss, shit and whatever. He adored her, all of her, without her having to change a thing, or reciprocate at all. Her sole job was to be her and allow him to worship her. Worship her even as she was being mean to him, cruel. It was incredible!

The mood these activities brought was increasingly dominant. She began to crave the twin feelings of being worshipped while being truly cruel more and more. And so their activities began to take different turns. Before long she was sitting on his face with full weight and farting in his mouth while she masturbated furiously, then finishing by moving back and letting him suck her clit until she came.

Then the pissing started. It was her idea. She liked that most post-orgasmically. She couldn’t really pee if she was too turned on, so she would have to pee in his mouth early, and then go through the whole build-up of coming. There was a nasty edge to feeling her get sucked off by the man she’d just pissed in, but the delay was too long. No, it was better to fart in his mouth, which was easy to do even if she was very turned on, then make him suck her off until she came in his mouth, and then add insult to injury, a final coup de grace, by pissing down his throat after he’d worked so hard to satisfy her desires and get her off.

She liked to imagine the scenario from his perspective, so she could really feel just how cruel her treatment of him was. She imagined what it would be like to kiss someone’s ass, someone who had already repeatedly treated you as little more than their personal toilet. Then to have them get off, literally come, while farting in your mouth, knowing that they were getting off on the fact that they were farting in your mouth, only to have them finish the deal by taking a piss in your mouth, well to Julianne, it was so rude, so mean, so hot that it gave her a vertigo-like tingle up her spine and made her unbelievably wet.

And that was the plan tonight. She could feel her bladder was pretty full, but like the ass-kissing and the silk sheets, that was mere background noise behind the now sometimes painful cramping she felt as she held the gas in her bowels. She took one last swig of beer, which always seemed to make her gaseous, and concentrated on his nose as he began to nuzzle her asshole. She could feel him sniff.

“Smell good?” she croaked with a grin.

“Mmmmm hmmmm” came the response and then a deep sniiiiffffffffffffffffffffffÑ

And at that moment she finally let her sphincter loosen, and a hot wet explosion of gas burst from her ass into his face. FFFFFFFAAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTTTTTT! It stank horribly. And it was sooo wet! Especially at the end. Too wet! She felt a hot liquid on her ass cheeks dripping off of her. And at that instant, she realized with sudden dread, that those cramps were caused by more than gas. She had just loosed a load of wet, gaseous diarhhea right into Ryan’s face. It was probably up his nose and on his mouth! She felt a return of that self-conscious fear she had felt the first time they had done anything like this. She just froze up, not knowing what to do, fearing to move.

Until she felt his tongue beginning to lap away at her asshole! He was licking diarrhea off of her ass and Julianne was on top of the world! She knew they had just crossed a threshold into a whole new world, and she felt dizzy — but happy — about the implications. “Mmmm,” she thought, “yeah, that’s it. Lap it up, boy!”