Julie wiped her brow of the sweat that had begun to settle on it. Keeping up with Ruby, a lovesick teenager, and Elena, a hyperactive preteen, was hard enough, but add in her hereditary flatulence? It was almost impossible. Papers flew around the house on a constant basis, and things never stood upright for long. “But they’re mine, and I love them,” Julie smiled.
Julie strutted to the closet to put the vacuum away, and as she did so she picked at the red spandex leggings that clung to her large posterior. She didn’t have a fat ass per say, but it was a little bigger then the next woman’s. She wore a black oversized wool sweater as well, and black ballet flats. She had her hair up, and hidden underneath an old ratty Yankees cap to keep it from falling in her face. Julie spent most of her time at home cleaning and taking care of everything a house hold needed to be taken care of, while her loving husband worked to support the family. It was boring monotonous work but she found pleasure in it as she served her family and she loved them a great deal.
“I need to take a shower before the girls get home,” Julie smiled. But a ding from the laundry room stopped that idea from getting very far. “A woman’s work is never done,” Julie giggled.
As she took the laundry from the washing machine Julie felt her stomach gurgle loudly. “Oh something’s reacting badly with something else,” Julie groaned. “And I just cleaned the house,” Julie lamented. But this is how it was since she was little; her farts would constantly disrupt her day-to-day life, making things difficult. Friends were hard to come by, and she was almost out of college before she had sex for the first time.
It was her husband she lost her virginity to. He was the only man, correction; only person who didn’t mind her gas, hell, sometimes he even seemed to love it.
Julie had gathered up the laundry and carried the basket outside, with her knees locked together and her thighs squeezing as tight as she could to hold her fart in. She had made it outside and was bouncing up and down trying to prevent her fart from slipping out for as long as possible. This is what Julie always did; it was her way of trying to gain some control of the uncontrollable. But the Fartmeister legacy prevented this, their flatulence was more a force of nature than a gas problem, and soon enough Julie bent forward and let her big butt cheeks part.
PPPPPPHHHHHHHRRRRTTTTTTTTTBBBBBBBTTTTTT!
The resulting fart ripped the leaves off the tree behind her, and blowing them over the tall fence that separated her yard from the neighbor’s yard. Looking at the bare tree she was thankful it was fall. “Maybe the neighbors will think they just fell on their own,” she mused as she chewed her bottom lip. “I hope that’s the only problem with this fart,” Julie prayed, but then it hit her. The smell.
The smell was horrible and rancid and it seemed to be everywhere. “God, sometimes it’s like the great outdoors isn’t big enough to dilute my farts,” Julie whined feeling defeated. That’s when she heard the neighbor’s voice.
“What is that smell?” a female voice yelled form the other side of the tall fence.
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