mephistofele84

i am glad you like them but transformation is not my kink...sorry

Eric couldn’t help but steal a peek at Susan’s butt. She was wearing an extremely tight pair of jeans, but considering the size of her butt, most jeans were extremely tight. It was an amazing view, but he felt guilty taking it in. Hot as Susan was, she was still Eric’s mother. At the moment she was busy preparing dinner. In between furtive glances, Eric heard something over the bubbling of the boiling water. He looked up and saw Susan bent slightly forward, letting a loud quack of a fart rocket out into the seat of her jeans.

“Oops! Sorry,” she said without turning around. She fanned the air behind her. Any time Eric’s dad was away for work, which was often, Susan was constantly farting. And Eric loved it. Farts were something Eric recently found out were a big turn-on. And Susan’s, despite the fact that they always stunk, or even that it was his own mother, were one of the most constant sources of joy and arousal in Eric’s life. Maybe she was the reason he was so interested in girl’s butts and the noises they made.

He wished he could take a whiff of this most recent one from across the kitchen. A longer, bigger blast would have made it over to him, but he didn’t expect too much from the little honk she had just given him. She started piling pasta onto their plates and brought them over, blowing stray strands of her long brown hair out of her face with a smile.

“There you go, sweetie,” she says, setting Eric’s down in front of him.

“Thanks.”

Susan took a seat across the table and hungrily dug in. A few mouthfuls in, she paused, twirling her fork in the noodles. “So,” she said, “would you watch a movie with me tonight? Normally your father and I would rent one together on Fridays.” Eric’s mind immediately drifts to her butt, and the aftermath of this pasta dinner. Would he even be able to concentrate on the movie with her pumping out farts? The smells alone would be supremely distracting.

“Sure, sounds great,” Eric said.

A half hour later, he was on the couch, leaning against the arm rest with a blanket on his legs. Susan had gotten comfortable, ditching the jeans for an equally-tight pair of pajama bottoms, and had laid across the couch to lean on the other arm rest. Her feet were by Eric’s side and -more importantly- her butt was aimed right at him. The view to his left was hard to resist, and he was right in the line of fire when she started pumping out farts.

Eric bided his time, and it didn’t take long. They hadn’t made it through the opening credits before a shuffling sound on his side stole Eric’s attention from the screen. Susan had lifted her knee up. Out the corner of his eye, Eric saw the fabric of her pants stretch as her cheeks spread ever so slightly. Then, a loud, airy horn of a fart blasted away. She sighed satisfactorily as it ended after a couple seconds.

“Sorry, sweetie. Hope you can handle that because there’s gonna be plenty more.” Still watching the screen, she fanned her nose, absent-mindedly adding, “that one’s gonna stink.”

Eric, meanwhile, was practically squirming with anticipation. He inhaled as quietly -yet deeply- as possible. The smell was strong, carby and dense, with a sourness like spoiled dairy. The perfect corruption of the buttery, creamy pasta alfredo she cooked up. Eric basked in the scent until it faded, doing his best to pretend he didn’t smell anything.

A few minutes later, another, quieter, longer fart escaped. Susan didn’t say anything, but she clearly smelled it. It was the same as before but stronger, and seemed to linger more. Susan pulled her shirt over her nose and shot a sympathetic glance Eric’s way. He figured he had to say something this time.

“My god, mom.”

“Sorry! Told you there’d be more.”

“If you’re gonna stink up the living room, can you at least make some pop corn or something?” He said, deflecting the fact that he loved it.

“If you want some, you can make it yourself,” she refused. However, her shirt fell from her nose, which wrinkled at the stench immediately. Consolation seemed to win her over, and she sighed as she got up from her seat to head into the kitchen. “Thank you!” Eric shouted behind her as she left the room. Her pajama pants, less restrictive than the jeans, let her butt bounce pleasingly as she walked. Eric listened to the popping of the microwave, and heard Susan let loose another quick fart that he would have loved to have heard close up like the other two.

Susan appeared in the door to the living room shortly, holding two bowls of popcorn. She hands one to her son and plops down next to him. Eric immediately digs in.

“Mmmm,” Susan mused, holding her bowl under her nose. “I love the smell of popcorn,” she said, “a strange smile across her face.”

Eric mimicked her, taking a deep breath. But it didn’t smell like salty, buttery kernels. His nose filled with that same carby, rotten dairy smell from before, and he involuntarily grimaced.

“Ew, mom!” he exclaimed. “Did you just fart?”

“Yep!” she said as she started laughing. “Right when I sat down.”

Eric rolled his eyes and turned back to the movie, meanwhile his heart was racing. He was the real winner of that fart prank. She had no idea.

A while later, Eric had finished half his bowl and placed it on a side-table beside him. He picked at it intermittently, engrossed in the movie’s climax. Susan’s gas had been surprisingly -disappointingly- dormant for most of the film. She got up, holding her now-empty bowl, and crossed in front of the screen heading towards the kitchen. Eric was so caught up he didn’t follow the view of her ass, but he should have, because as soon as she was by the side-table, she turned, bent, and pointed her butt right in his bowl. Eric, who was about to grab another couple kernels, retracted his hand in surprise. Susan then loosed a big, airy trombone of a fart right into the bowl.

“MOM!” Eric yelled. She giggled and scurried out of the living room.

“Sorry!” she called back from the next room. “Couldn’t help it!” Eric didn’t mind. As soon as she was out of sight he lifted the bowl and brought it to his nose. Any scent of popcorn was long gone, blasted away by the thick smell of old cheese. He inhaled long, deep whiffs of the fart, eyes closed in enjoyment.

“Sweetie?” Susan asked. Eric’s eyes snapped open, and he noticed her in the threshold again. She had seen him huffing her fart fumes.

“I uh-” Eric scrambled for words. “I was- I was seeing if any of this was still good to eat.”

“I doubt it,” Susan said with a chuckle, returning to her seat. That was too close.

The weekend went by quickly, Eric spending most of it on his laptop in bed. Sunday around noon, Susan knocked on the door before letting herself in.

“Hey lazy,” she said. Today she was wearing a small white tank top and a pair of ripped jeans. Some attempt to look more youthful, probably. Her brown hair was wet from a recent shower. She sat at the foot of Eric’s bed.

“What’s up?” he greeted.

“I am going to the bookstore, and I want you to come.”

“I don’t really feel like it,” Eric declined. Susan frowned.

“You’ve been in this room all weekend doing nothing. You gotta get out of the house.”

“No I don’t” he refused. But Susan wasn’t having it.

“I’ll get you out of this room one way or another, sweetie,” she warned, and slid along the bed til she was near his torso. She sidled up close.

“What does-” Eric started to ask what she meant, but was interrupted by a loud, muffled rumble. She had let loose a long fart right into his sheets. He could feel the warmth spread as the 4-second emission seeped into the covers.

“Ew, mom!” Eric feigned.

“I got more! Now get up and get dressed.”

“You’re so gross,” Eric said dismissively, discreetly inhaling. This fart smelled sour, probably a result of her post-run smoothie. She was probably blasting these all morning.

“I’ll show you gross,” Susan said, leaning to her side and blasting another one. This time she waved it up to Eric’s face. He put on a scowl for show. It definitely smelled like protein powder and overripe fruit. A sickly blend of sweet, sour, and stinky. “Pretty soon you won’t be able to sleep in these sheets, they’ll reek so bad.”

She lifted up off the sheets slightly, her butt tantalizingly close to Eric. He had the urge to grab it and pull her down onto his crotch. Of course he couldn’t do that, though. Another fart, no longer muffled by the covers, escaped Susan’s rear. Her tight jeans made it ripply and meandering, and quite bubbly by the end.

“Hurry up,” Susan cautioned, “I’m brewing up a bad one. Might leave a stain on your sheets…”

“That’s so nasty,” Eric protested, reaching up and pushing her side to get her all the way off his bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he finally gave in. Susan straightened up.

“Good,” she said, and headed for the door. As soon as she was gone, Eric leaned forward, putting his head right where her butt had been, and sniffed away hungrily. He felt ashamed but he simply couldn’t resist. He sat there, basking in the scent, and forgot the entire exchange with his mother.

Eric inhaled, mulling over the odor, until it became less pungent and eventually dissipated from the air. When that happened, he curiously lifted his sheets to his nose. They stunk, to his excitement, and he buried his face into the balled up covers that were previously point blank under Susan’s butt.

In that instant, Eric was in ecstasy. But the moment came crashing down when his mother swung the door open.

“I thought you were getting ready!” she exclaimed.

Eric jumped in surprise and flung the sheets away from his face. In doing so, he accidentally uncovered himself. Only wearing his boxers, he had to roll onto his side, suspiciously facing the wall, to hide his arousal. His mom must have seen him sniffing away. She might have seen his boner.

“I am!” he lied, met by a skeptical look from Susan. “I was seeing if they still smelled so I can put them in the laundry before we go.”

“Really? For ten minutes?” She asked incredulously. Eric didn’t realize how long he had spent relishing her farts. It was impressive they lingered so long.

“I’ll get ready now, sorry,” was all Eric could muster.

“I hope you mean it this time,” Susan said, turning back to the door. Eric’s attention went right to her voluptuous butt, which fought valiantly against the restrictive denim. It was amazing to think such noxious farts came out of such an impressive butt. What Eric would give to get a whiff of the seat of her jeans.

“Here’s a little more motivation to get moving!” his mother added, pausing in the doorway. She gave a grunt, and a long, gulpy fart rolled out. It was loud and strong, and picked up volume after two seconds, eliciting a surprised “ooh!” from Susan. The drawn out emission ended with a high-pitched zip and a wet pop. Eric was completely enthralled, speechless at the display.

“Erm,” Susan said, uneasily. “Okay hurry up, I need to go to the bathroom before we go. And maybe change.”

Susan held back in the bookstore. It was a quiet place, and she probably didn’t want to disturb the other customers with her sounds and smells. Eric tucked away in a corner with a stack of graphic novels, not really absorbing anything from them, his mind stuck back in his bedroom, immersed in his mom’s toxic gas. After a few hours, Susan found him and told him it was time to go home.

“You haven’t eaten today, have you?” She asked as they drove out of the parking lot.

“No, not yet.”

“Do you want to stop somewhere? My treat? You can pick.”

“Mexican,” Eric blurted out without even thinking.

“Okay, if you want,” Susan agreed. Not long thereafter, they were pulling into a drive thru and loading up.

“Okay,” said the teenager at the pickup window, “here are your burritos,” he noted, handing over a bag, “your chicken queso wrap and taco supreme value pack,” bag number two, “and your nacho fries,” he passed the third and final bag. “And two large root beers,” he said finally, giving Susan a drink tray with their sodas. She piled the food onto Eric’s lap and pulled away from the window. The only thing he ordered was one of the two burritos.

“Wow, you really pig out when dad is out of town,” he said with a smirk.

“You know how health-conscious he is.”

“That’s probably why you’ve been a non-stop fart machine,” Eric concluded.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Speaking of,” Susan agreed, then tilted to the side to lift her right cheek off the seat. She shot a forceful, airy fart Eric’s way. Immediately the smell of fresh mexican food was replaced by her ass-stench. It smelled like it did in Eric’s room, only mustier, drier now.

“Come on, Mom!” Eric complained, secretly excited for the pre-meal treat.

“What? I’m making room for all the food!” Susan espoused. She absently reached to the bags in Eric’s lap, searching blindly for one of her items as she kept her eyes on the road. She dug deep into a bag and went for one of the burritos. To Eric’s sheer discomfort, she brushed over his crotch, her fingers passing over the bulge in his jeans. Finally, she retrieved her food and withdrew her hand from the bag.

“Did they give us an extra burrito?” She asked. “I thought there were three in there.”

Eric shook his head, absolutely mortified. “No. Just the two,” he muttered.

Half Susan’s meal was gone by the time they got home. She and Eric sat at the kitchen table and finished eating. Susan stifled burps the entire meal. When she was finally done, she sat back and rubbed her stomach.

“Wow, I ate a lot.”

“You really did,” Eric agreed, still working on his own burrito.

“I feel gross. These jeans are ridiculously tight,” his mother whined. Her stomach audibly bubbled and she groaned. “I think I need to change,” she decided, slowly rising from her seat. Her stomach was slightly distended.

Eric watched as his mother exited the kitchen. Her huge butt was probably due to how much junk she ate during his dad’s frequent business trips. She kept the fat off everywhere with her stringent workout regimen, but it apparently stuck around in the pants.

A few minutes later, Eric had finished eating and returned to his room. He took pause by his mother’s bedroom door, slightly ajar. Right by it was her dirty clothes hamper, and the jeans she had blown up that morning were sitting right on top. It was a tantalizing prospect. He wanted to get a whiff.

He stopped and listened, trying to pinpoint where his mother was in the house. The last thing he wanted was for her to catch him pilfering her used laundry to smell her residual odors. From the sound of it, she was busy cleaning in the living room. He snatched the jeans and hurried to his own bedroom. He sat on his bed and brought the seat of the jeans to his nose.

They reeked. The smell of Susan’s protein smoothie farts was dangerously strong still, practically intoxicating. She had been punishing these jeans all morning, it wasn’t too surprising that the fragrance had permeated so deep into the fabric. Eric took deep breath after deep breath, quickly becoming uncomfortably aroused. He fell back onto his bed, and realized he was still sniffing the outside. He half-flipped the waistband, presenting the inner seat of the pants to his waiting nose. The smell was even stronger, sickly and pungent. Eric sucked the pants like he was on the verge of suffocation, sniffing every last particle of stink from his mother’s jeans. He was in heaven.

Finally, he was interrupted as he heard Susan coming down the hall. He sprung into action, burying the stolen pants under his covers and jumping up to go to his desk, where he could sit and hide his arousal. He heard his mom open her door and enter her room, then she came back out. She knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he said, trying not to sound as breathless as he was. Susan cracked the door and poked her head in.

“I’m doing laundry, do you want me to throw any of your clothes in?” She was holding her hamper. Eric’s heart pounded. He wondered if she noticed anything missing from the pile.

“Um, no. I’m going to, uh, do my stuff tomorrow. My sheets need to be washed too, so I’ll toss everything in together.”

“Okay,” Susan obliged and left.

Eric had to get out of the house. He was spending too much time in his room, and he was practically losing his mind alone with Susan and her overactive guts. So he went out and met up with friends for the afternoon, finally coming home that night. When he returned, it was close to midnight, and Susan was asleep on the couch, TV still on. He passed through the living room on his way to the hall where the bedrooms were.

Susan was curled up, her butt on full display. Her cheeks were practically eating a pair of silk pajama shorts. Eric paused for a moment, taking in the view. He hadn’t ever seen her wear something so revealing. But it made sense that she had thrown on one of her less-worn outfits when everything else was in the laundry. Eric certainly wasn’t complaining.

After a long moment basking in the magnificence of his mother’s big butt overwhelming the small shorts, he moved to his room. He was curious to see if his mom’s jeans still retained any of her smell. Based on how strong it was before, he thought he had a good chance at catching another whiff, and it would be a great way to end such an odorous day.

But Eric was met with an unpleasant surprise when he returned to his room. His hamper was empty, and his sheets had been changed. His mother thoughtfully did his laundry for him while he was out, which meant she stripped his bed, which meant she certainly found her jeans. He wondered what she would have thought when she came across her stinky pants, tucked away in his bed. Did she know?