The Guidance Counselor - Chapter 20 (Patreon)

By the time we arrived at the dorm, Charlie was slipping into sleepiness and did not want to get off from the floor. Henry tried slapping him, which brought him back awake but still mumbled about not wanting to move. It was quite the feat but we were able to get Charlie on his bed by lifting him up from his torso and legs. This required the help of my next-door neighbors Jill and Vincent. We made sure to be all hush-hush about it and not wake up the RA down the hall. Of course, things are funnier when you’re not trying to be loud.

            Jill was one of those girls who was very into New Age stuff. I briefly considered asking her out but her insistence that crystals could cure cancer really put a damper on my sex drive whenever I talked to her. Vincent was the burliest of us (sans Charlie) so he really helped drive the effort.

            As we were lifting Charlie up from the floor, he farted very loudly. This caused all of us to nearly drop him as we lost it. Vincent was breaking into fits of laughter. Henry was red-faced trying not to laugh out loud. Jill was more appalled and disgusted but still trying not to laugh.

            Until that moment, I had never considered farts funny. Farts were something that turned me on, obviously, so seeing them in a humorous light felt cringe. I never once thought about it until the night I tried to help put Charlie back on his bed and he blew ass while we were trying to be quiet. Maybe it was the conjoined effort of being with other people who did find farts funny that made me laugh.

            After everyone bade goodnight and left, being alone in the room with Charlie in his state had me with butterflies in my stomach. Nothing about this was settling. I stared at him, belly-up on his back starting to snore and with his gut protruding out like a mountain. His skin was so smooth and clean. A shot of that belly out of context, and I wouldn’t be able to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman.

            This brought me back to looking at videos online of people stuffing themselves but never showing their faces. With people of the heavier variety, it can be difficult to tell if the breasts are a woman’s or a man’s, because fat men can have “man boobs”. Other times, the person filming just shows their belly and nothing more.

            And that was a gray area that I was afraid to explore and ask questions. Because I may have very well jacked off to a man online and not realized it. I would notice dozens of comments on the videos where people asked “Are u a boy or girl?”. They too wanted to know because the uncertainty would be too confusing for them, too much to bear. I elected to ignore those questions and assume I was jacking off to a girl.

            Charlie started to snore loudly; he was breathing at least, that was a good sign.

            It was nearly 3 in the morning. I washed myself and got to bed and stared up at the darkness thinking about that round taut belly right across the room.

            Charlie stirred. He moaned and turned on his side, letting off another deep, loud fart. It could have been mistaken for one of the classic fart sound effects. Charlie could make money off of his own gas if he even knew there was a market for that.

            Nothing prepared me for what happened at dawn.

            It is well-documented that a night of heavy beer drinking affects one’s stomach the morning after. However, I never truly considered a scenario like that until that morning.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHT!

            I jolted at the sudden eruption. There was no other way to explain it. It was the nastiest, most ungodly fart I had ever heard in my life. I honestly thought he was about to shit himself. The entirety of last night just fucking blew out of his ass in one gaseous expulsion. He didn’t even wake up, at least not really. He mumbled a bit incoherently a few seconds after he ripped ass.

            I stared at him. His belly was still a bit bloated. He snored aloud sprawled in bed. My dick was already hard and I was nervous about that. He turned around to face the wall, still snoring.

            Again, he farted, and again it made me jolt by the sudden violence of it.

            Jesus Christ, it sounded like someone put their mouth against their forearm and just blew into it as much as they could. Nothing about this guy’s farts sounded real.

            An intrusive thought flew through my mind. I cringed thinking about it, appalled, offended even.

            I just had a mental image of having my dick in his ass.

            The fuck? I nearly thought out loud.

            I went from wanting to fuck Ms. Johnson, a staple of womanly beauty, to fucking a beer-bellied frat boy.

            Charlie continued farting. Those farts called to me, daring me to reach down underneath my covers and touch my already-throbbing cock.

            This isn’t weird… I said to myself. I just like the sound of his farts.

            I started whacking it right there in the room with him. As long as his back was turned away from me, I knew I could get away with it. Thank God for Ms. Johnson unlocking the joys of masturbation by hand for me. I no longer had to be restrained to the surface underneath me. I could just reach down and touch and let it all out.

            My bed creaked.

            I stopped, heart racing.

            Charlie snorted, but did not stir any more than that.

            Fuck, fuck, fuck, what are you doing, Jason?

            The pale white ceiling bore down on me. I already felt the shaft of my cock fill up with semen. It was hurting, begging to get out. Just one quick squeeze. It’ll be okay. Nobody will know. Just be a little…more…quieter…about it.

            I refined my touch to a less intense method of stroking. It might have taken me a few minutes longer but in the long run was still worth it.

            I replayed moving images of Ms. Johnson in my head, watching her strut down the old hallways of St. Joseph’s Academy, dubbing over Charlies freakish farts. There she was eating at the cafeteria, but when she belched it sounded like Charlie. I still very much wanted that woman badly, don’t get me wrong, despite what had happened and what she told me.

            Then I came – and Charlie’s bloated visage from last night broke through my mind. Charlie with his bare belly poking out of his popped jeans last night as he sat on the floor of the living room. Charlie hanging over my shoulder as Henry and I tried to walk him back to our dorm. Charlie’s breath had reeked of beer, and every time he belched the smell was so potent it nearly made my eyes water.

            My mind fell into incomprehensible blather as I messed myself under the covers. I bit into my pillow and heaved into it, mouthing screams into it.

            I rode the orgasm…slowly…slowly…the stroking stopped.

            I fell asleep.

            When I woke up, the sting of the early afternoon sun hit my eyes through the blinds. The cum on my stomach had long-since dried up, but I still felt its remnants. I turned to face Charlie but saw that he had left at some point.

            I stared up at the ceiling again.

            “Shit.”