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lifewithdavefarts · 6 months

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DaveFarts - Episode 25 “Endurance Test” [Episode List] Tim gets a bit too cocky and challenges his gassy friend by (jokingly) doubting of his farting skills. Dave, whose farts are being as powerful as usual, if not more, gladly accepts the challenge.

This story was originally requested by StraightFartGods.

POV: Tim

The weather outside, despite being warm, wasn’t the best so our plans for the night, being a group of friends who’s starting to surrender way too easily (it’s because once you’re past 25, you get instantly old), we all decided to stay home, our respective homes even, so Dave and I ended up alone. We don’t mind that much.

Dave likes going out way more than me (though it’s not like I don’t know how to have fun) but he too cherishes some good, safe alone-time to recharge social batteries: we’re much more similar than we’d like to admit, which is why we get along so well. They say we’re “the odd couple”, but I think that weirdos simply attract each other naturally, even though they can look very different at first.

“Alright.” Dave said, walking into the living room. He was dressed as if we had to leave, so a grey shirt and a pair of good old dark blue jeans, slightly loose because he untied his belt. “I’m starving.”

“Pizza?” I simply asked.

“The day I’m gonna answer ‘No’ to that is the day you’ll know a skinwalker took my place.”

The power of pizza.

Even though we didn’t actively plan for it, the night slowly morphed into a “movie night”, just the two of us on the couch eating pizza and watching a cheesy, manly, toxic action movie that we can recite by memory because of how many times we watched it: “Bullet Gore”. Now that’s a title!

“Your face is history.” the male hero said, right before turning somebody’s head to bits with his shotgun.

We cheered as and had a sip of beer as if our baseball team scored the match point and enjoyed the unnecessary but fun gore sequences of the film.

“Too bad they ruined everything with the sequel.” Dave commented.

“Aw come on. It’s worse, but not that bad.” I replied.

“Never watched and never will.” he stated, taking a good sip of beer.

By the time the movie was halfway done (it was a surprisingly long flick), I had to turn up the volume because of some noises next to me making me difficult to hear what the characters were saying.

Indeed, Dave started farting, the way he does during nights like these, with pizza and beer acting as fuel for his already incredible talent. He was resting both his legs on the small table in front of the couch, his denim ass facing the TV, so I didn’t have a proper full view of it. I could, however, hear every single blast echoing in the room, with the terrible scent immediately following each thunder.

I would love to say that he was doing this because of my kink, but this is actually what being Dave’s close friend means: you better get used to his farts, because he’s gonna just casually do it in front of you whether you like it or not. He wasn’t even acknowledging that he was ripping one every few minutes, huge ones nonetheless, though once or twice he did snap his fingers to get me to turn to him, so I could see his smirk as he ripped one. Once again, he does this with our other friends as well, but he does seem to put some extra “care” into the teasing part because he knows I actually, well, like it.

But everyone’s got limits: the farts were huge, not overly long, but incredibly stinky. Even for my standards, it was getting a bit… stuffy in there, so I actually went for it.

“I know this is weird coming from me, but… can you tone it down a bit?”

Dave slowly turned to me with a serious, surprised face, and effortlessly replied by ripping a loud, almost wet one, renewing the stench he was immune to. This time it was one of his longer ones, around 7 seconds long.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” he managed to say while farting. “Did you say something?”

After the fart ended and a few moments of silence (ignoring the TV), I opened my mouth to speak again, but my friend’s ass spoke first, emitting another loud, long rip.

Dave gestured to his ear and slowly shook his head, as to say the he still couldn’t hear me, as if we were in a loud nightclub, but the only music piercing through my own eardrums was my bro’s loud fart.

That ridiculous scene actually made me laugh like an idiot, while also giving me the hardest boner so far of the night.

9 seconds and the rip was over.

“So, I did it.” Dave said. “You’ve been healed. I blasted your kink out of you.” he joked.

“Please…” I played along. “Those were like… low-tier farts, for your standards.”

“True.” he playfully admitted. “So don’t tempt me.” he threatened.

I hated that I found that… hot.

“I’m n-not… I’m just s-saying that the entire room smells like, I don’t know, rotten beer? Is t-that even possible?”

Dave laughed. “If only there was something or someone who could fix this!”

“What are you implying…?” I asked.

“Well…” Dave sat normally on the couch. “I assumed your lungs were better than this. But apparently you just can’t handle my power.” he said, with a cheesy smirk.

“Oh…” I got what he meant. “Well, maybe I’m not complaining because of you’re farting too much.” I leaned closer to him, as if we were doing some shady business. “Maybe I’m complaining because you’re not farting enough.” I dared to say.

My friend replied with a surprised laughter. “Are you seriously challenging me?” he didn’t sound offended or disgusted, just amused. But he can get cocky.

“Wanna bet?” I asked, indeed challenging him.

“Alright, get up.”

Dave stood up and I did the same: it truly looked like we were doing a business meeting.

“Challenge accepted.” he continued, and we firmly shook hands. “If I win, beers are on you for 3 months.”

“Deal.” I replied. “But if I win, we’re gonna watch ‘Bullet Gore 2’ later.”

While still shaking hands, Dave looked at me funny.

“Really? That’s it?” he replied, with a smile. “All of this just to watch a shitty movie with me?”

Funny how that’s the thing he found weird instead of, you know, the boner his farts give me.

“Yeah. Pretty gay, huh?” I joked.

“Okay…” he nodded, still somewhat surprised. “It’s a deal.”

We once again had this super manly handshake going on, just as an helicopter in the movie exploded in a fiery fireball, killing a bunch of henchmen and one of the main villains, with the shirtless muscular hero saying something like “Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch!”. Probably the manliest moment I ever lived through.

“So, let’s hear those toots.” I said, bravely.”

“Toots?” my friend replied. “I’m gonna blast your face so hard you’re gonna regret having this kink…”.

Dave casually threatening me like this… got me instantly hard. I knew he was just playing along but goddammit, why am I like this? Why is he like this? Why the fuck did I even accept this bet?! As my own mind made fun of me, my bro lied on this stomach on the couch, his tall figure occupying all of it, his nice jeans-clad ass facing up, looking like a soft warm denim pillow.

I simply managed to sit between his long legs and planted my face into that ass, still stinky for all the farts he ripped until that moment. My nose wasn’t facing down however, as I didn’t want to make it weird.

“Dude.” I heard Dave say. “Honestly, your lack of commitment to your fart kink disappoints me”. he then laughed, reaching for my head. “Be a man and face my ass.” he said, pushing my head deeper between his denim asscheeks.

I tried not to laugh myself at that weird statement, so I just obeyed and turned my head, facing down, now fully at the mercy of my friend’s powerful butt. I took a good whiff, enjoying the smell of almost 1 hour of loud, post-pizza blasts. As I did that, I felt the ass’ muscles relaxing, a sign that Dave was pushing one out, and indeed it came out immediately: an ear-piercing blast and made my face shake, almost wet-sounding, felt like a slap on my face.

My task was clear: not a single particle of gas had to reach Dave’s nose, so I inhaled it deeply and loudly as the fart kept erupting straight down my nostrils. I inhaled so hard and for so long that I actually surprisingly outlasted my friend’s 9 seconds: now the only noise we both could hear (besides someone getting shot in the movie) was me breathing his gas in… which made me realize how weird that was.

Am I making this weird? Too… “porn-y” for my straight friend? I love that he has no problems with me and my kink, but I don’t want to cross certain lines you know. He’s not saying anything… but his silence only makes it worse. I had to make sure.

“Dave.” I said, my voice being muffled by his ass, which made him laugh. “Am I making this weird?”

My friend simply turned his head, trying to look at me. I managed to get a quick look of his facial expression but the only thing on his face was a cocky smirk.

“Not weirder than usual to me.” he simply said. He then reached for my head, making it bounce a bit in his ass. “…Ready?”

Another fart erupted, which itself was Dave’s real answer to my question: “it’s fine”, he knows what this kink is by now, and he’s the one who basically challenged me to sniff it all up. Plus, if he was weirded out he knew he could just tell me and I wouldn’t be offended: we’re all adults here after all.

So there I was, my nose enduring some of the worst rips my friend ever gifted to me, the sheer power of those blasts being raunchier than his usual for some reason, maybe because of the beers being warmer or the mozzarella on the pizza being spoiled. No idea.

Or maybe it was just Dave putting extra efforts into his farts, if that was even possible. He’s the Fart King after all, so if he was somehow able to set custom pitch, loudness and power for each farts he ripped I wouldn’t have been surprised. Then again, he could even fart on command, so maybe he doesn’t need more buffs than he already has.

“Your face is history” my friend said, in a deeper voice, a clear reference to the masterpiece we were watching earlier.

And just like the henchman from the movie, my head was blown away by a sheer deadly force, this time in the form of Dave’s being unhinged, each natural blast somehow bigger and better than the previous one. I feel like that it doesn’t matter how this bet goes: I’m winning by simply having a bro like him.

I kept sniffing it all up as the blast rushed down my throat. He was good at farting, but I was also good at taking it. It’s like I said: weirdos work better together!

Yeah, I was taking it all like a champ.

“I could do this all night you know.” he boasted, during a rare moment of his ass being silent.

“What a coincidence: me too!” I bragged.

“Ohhhh… someone’s getting cocky back there.”

Dave really wanted those free beers, huh? He once again reached for my head and, with a firm grip, pushed it deeper down his warm denim ass, now almost sagging.

“Let’s see if you can keep your promise, shall we?” that was a threat.

There was like 10 seconds of silence, 10 never-ending seconds, but I just knew Dave was brewing something big, as he kept my head there (not that I was planning to move it anyway). Finally, he turned to me, with a cheesy grin, purposely trying to look like some kind of serial killer from a slasher movie before finish his victim off.

And then he hit me with his weapon of choice: the loudest fart I heard that night. It was big, it was powerful, it was deep, long. His hand didn’t move and my whole face was shaking because of the sheer power of the blast; I had to close my eyes ‘cause the gas was making them burn. How was it possible to fart so naturally and casually like this for him will always be beyond me… but I didn’t care. I managed to breathe that monster in with my mouth open, almost choking on my friend’s deadly gas.

Dave loved the challenge, but two can play this game! I could tell he was amused, disgusted and surprised by how good I was at enduring his powerful rips.

And finally, after 16 whole seconds, that impressive display of flatulence was over, not a single particle of gas reaching my farter-friend’s nostrils, as I promised.

“I believe you’re losing your touch.” I mocked him.

“With all the farts you've been eating, of course you'd be talking shit you ungrateful bastard!”

“Ohhhh sorry, someone's a little touchy.” I kept teasing him.

“Alright, I’m done holding back.” he sounded comically annoyed by my impressive endurance.

My friend slowly turned over until he was lying on his back, making sure he didn’t accidentally kick me with his long legs. He now assumed a more familiar position, the one he usually has when blasting me. He cocked his legs up, showing off his denim ass and a tiny bit of his red boxer brief, and wrapped his legs around me, pulling me closer to his gas source. His long legs had an even stronger grip than his hand, and my whole face was now completely planted into my friend’s ass.

“I’m feeling merciful tonight, so I’m giving you the chance to surrender now.” he stated, as his legs held me still, keeping my nose right between the rough fabric of his jeans-clad buttcheeks.

“Never.” I boasted. “…unless, you know, you actually want to stop because this is getting too weir-“

“Shut up!” he cut me off. “You just had to ruin my villainous speech, didn’t you?!” he laughed.

I just didn’t know what to say.

“Again, this is your last chance bro.”

I played along, knowing he was okay with it. “Hit me with your best shot, but don’t wound what you can’t kill.”

We both laughed like immature idiots, but Dave took my words at heart, because once we were done laughing at that ridiculous moment, he felt air being sucked inside his anus.

Yes, he switched to “on-command” mode, his secret weapon, his final secret move. Despite my face being there, my bro didn’t have any trouble at sucking more and more air through his ass like a vacuum cleaner, and the sound that made wasn’t that different from an actual fart. Every time I heard that “air-being-sucked-in” noise, as silly as that sounds, I think of a drumroll, the kind of tension that raises before the beat actually drops, because that’s what Dave’s farts are: something to look forward to… if you’re into it of course.

He’s been sucking air for like 20 seconds now and I started to regret my cockiness: when even a kinky bitch like me ends up being afraid of his own best bro’s farting skills, you just know something big, maybe too big, is gonna happen.

The anticipation made me hornier than ever, and the fact that it was, well, Dave, just Dave, my friend, made it even hotter for me. So casually, undeniably hot.

Finally, he stopped sucked air in, and I could hear Dave breathing (from his mouth) heavily, a sign that he was getting tired… and even his ass was getting sweatier and warmer.

“Your face is history.” my bud said again, in a comically deep voice.

We love that movie.

What followed, however, almost made me pass out.

The loudness was almost unnatural, I feared it could make me deaf. Imagine the stock sound of a fart, only longer, more powerful, airy, the most impressive fart Dave ripped in months, something so powerful that he can even feel the recoil as he pushed it out… just like a shotgun.

The more he farted, the louder it got, and I swore he was gonna tear a hole through his jeans this time, there was no way his clothes were able to endure that. I kept sniffing, breathing heavily, the fart’s pace being faster than my own breathing, if that makes any sense. 10 seconds already and the blast didn’t seem to lose any power: I almost got scared.

As the fart kept getting ripped, I felt Dave stretching his long denim legs wide to ease the fart out, which in turn made it sound even louder and deadlier. I felt like living a weird fever dream, probably because of all the poisonous gas in my lungs. But I also felt the luckiest man in the world.

I dared to peek over that denim ass, only to be greeted by Dave having the most evil smirk in the world, completely unfazed by how weird I was, how all of that was… but I could also see how tired and sweaty he was from forcing all those farts out, incredibly enough.

I planted my head back where it belonged, sniffing as much as I could, as if my life depended on it, even though I was almost passing out for all that stench… and the blood rushing down to my boner didn’t help to focus at all.

And yet… I won. The fart was losing power, ending with a quick series of toots, Dave’s legs crashing down the couch, his left one on my right side, his right one on my left side, and I got up myself, my face leaving that gas trap, finally sitting down normally on the couch.

I took a good look at Dave: he was indeed tired, sweaty, sporting a silly smirk.

“Is that how you look like after sex?” I dared to joke.

My friend laughed. “Hey, I love you bro, but you gotta settle for my farts.”

I patted one of his legs in response, as a cheesy way to thank him, and hopefully he knew how thankful I was. I mean, he already knew how aroused I was anyway, so why keep the fact that I’m grateful a secret?

Dave too adjusted his position, this time kicking me on purpose while doing it, and sat back normally.

“I gotta say, I didn’t except you to win.” he admitted.

“…win?!” I replied. “Bro… I was basically done. That last one almost killed me.”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Let’s call it a tie then.” he proposed. “Until next time at least.” he just casually said.

I simply turned to the TV, only to find out that the movie was over.

Did Dave just face-farted me for like… 30 minutes?! Time truly flew by.

My friend then reached for his beer and the remote. We some on-demand features on our TV and, after navigating the UI for a few seconds, he started downloading “Bullet Gore 2”.

“Really?” I asked.

“Well, if you can endure all of that gas, I can sit through a turd of a movie.”

I think he was gonna watch this movie with me either way, regardless of any bet, just like I’m more than happy to offer him a beer whenever I could, so all of this fart-bet was for nothing.

Then again, weirdos attract each other naturally...

End of Episode 25

#eproctophilia #davefarts #fart kink #fart story #malefarts

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