After i started having sex with rakhi my life took an amaxing turn. I never knew indian women farted so much. My wife never farted while i was near her. None of my cousins did it eventhough they never had any issues with me farting. The first woman that gave me a real time experience of a woman's fart was my mother in law rakhi. Her middle aged hairy butt was perfect and similar to a latino bum. Her friend aneesha was a working woman. She was a thin woman with normal boobs and minimal butt cheeks. She loved being dominated by rakhi. They had fart fetishes since thier school days but could never enjoy it. Aneesha could fart but was never able to make a loud fart like rakhi could. She loved it when i used to fart in front of her or in her face while we had sex. She pooped more than me at any given time. Aneesha used to use the toilet and ask rakhi to flush it for her. Both the ladies were enjoying life and i was even more happy coz i finally found a woman who loved my only talent. Aneesha used to ask for my farts based on my diet. She never sniffed farts if i had milk or any diary product. She felt that my farta might smell lk hers if i do so. She only had a##l sex and never allowd me to fart after i filled her mouth. Do that to rakhi, i dont tke farts and jizss she still says.
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As she splayed her knees her silk petticoats came swishing down all over my head and frou-froued against my face and ears. She pulled me further into her with her thighs and I felt the pressure of her hands on the back of my head under the seven silk petticoats and enormous black dress which draped over me. "Oh heavenly bliss, sheer complete bliss," she whispered, "Good boy, good boy," she said and patted my head through her immense black dress. In the dark space inside her cool silk petticoats I listened to the smart clip-clopping of a Hansom cab heading towards Oxford Street and heard children running outside.
"If you would be so kind Miss," I said to her, deliberately putting on a 'little boy lost' expression in order to appear less threatening, when secretly I already imagined her screaming the house down with my tongue massaging her clitoris. She lifted her grey tweed skirt to her waist and there before me lay an intricately decorated, very full lace trimmed petticoat made from white silk. I watched her slowly lift her arse off me and at her petticoats disappearing inside her long full skirt. "That was excellent my young friend; you appear to have a natural talent and I a very pleased, Do you understand?" she said shaking her skirt and petticoats down once more.
On my left side I felt Miss Emily's feet begin massaging my waist and upper legs and watched as she lifted up the hem of her very full skirt to reveal a cream petticoat decorated with an almost transparent hem of silk Point de Rose lace. I tilted my head upwards and backwards to watch Sophia Hetheringham, wearing a vast dark grey and blue silk skirt, hand her empty cup and saucer to Davies. I pushed my head as far back as possible and watched Miss Sophia lift her skirt hem and allow two silk petticoats to spill out over my face.
The 'smiling' receptionist said she would speak to Yvonne, one of the practice nurses, whom I knew relatively well as she and I ran half-marathons together for charity. She swung her legs over my head so that both her knees were astride my face allowing her hands access to my penis and plastic receptacle. I said that I knew the 'smiling' receptionist well and maybe she could be just asked 'unofficially' to help me for a few minutes with providing a sample. Linda said she'd speak to nurse Yvonne, Dr. Cooke and Dr. Stein, the head of the practice to ascertain their opinions. Linda clearly knew what to do and within two minutes I felt seminal fluid ejecting from my knob end and her gloved hands directing it into the receptacle.