Closet Fetishist's Stories


Check Out the
Fart Fetish Podcast

Join Our Community

Click Here for

Click Here for an Elevator
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: August 8th, 2009

There are four of us. We got on the elevator at the ground floor of the hotel; two men alone and a couple. I am one of those men. It is early in the night still for a Saturday; it's about eleven. My room is on the eighteenth floor. The light panel is lit for eighteen, twelve, and six. I think the couple is on six.

My shirt is still visibly wet from the mojito that the bitch in the bar threw on me. I found a mint leaf on me while I was standing in the lobby; how stupid I must have looked walking around with that on me. I angrily peeled it off before I got on the elevator.

It's been a while since I've been with a girl, I never liked hookups but I couldn't start a relationship so far from home so what else could I do when the urge hit here? The girl certainly wasn't into it though, she made that perfectly clear.

I look up from the floor finally and notice the couple is looking at each other lovingly. He quickly and quietly pecks her lips and pulls back. She then follows suit, longer this time as if she tries to one up his kiss. He smiles. So does she. My anger rises.

At last, the sixth floor. The bell dings and the doors open but oh no! It is the other man alone that gets off. Now it's me and the fucking lovebirds in this space and their passion seems to be escalating fast as she puts her hands in his shirt. The doors shut and the elevator rides on.

The glow in the couple’s eye is clear. Then, without warning, the man hits the emergency stop button on the elevator and it stops immediately.

"What the hell?!" I ask, reaching for the button.

The woman takes her hands out of the man's shirt and smacks it.

"Hey! I'm not staying here while you two do the deed."

They don't listen. The woman proceeds to the floor, pulling off her shirt revealing her perfect, un-bra restricted breasts. Then her pants come down and her unshaved yet still kept pussy is clearly visible to me.

"You can watch. No charge," she said, smiling. Her accent was heavy but I could not identify it.

"I don't want to watch! I just want to go to my room! You guys can wait that long can't you?!"

The woman smiles as she pulls me to the ground. She is unbelievably strong. She puts my face right in front of hers.

"If you're not happy watching, then perhaps you'd like better to be participating."

Honestly, it makes me think for a second. I am on the ground a second later. A smile crosses my face for a split second than disappears. Dry streak ended?

Suddenly though, her ass is hovering over my face and then she is sitting on my face and I am greeted by a whole host of unpleasant, otherworldly, disgusting smells of feces and internal gases. I struggle but the woman is too heavy to throw off. Not far off I hear the subtle yet dutiful licking of a pussy; her husband must be going down on her. Just fucking great!


Oh God! That wasn't! Oh fuck, it was. A fart! She farted in my fucking face smells. It smells so bad. I can't take it, I thrash about violently but she maintains her position on my face.

I hear her moans of pleasure; they are about all I hear as I struggle in this prison of human gas.


I scream out loud but it is muffled in the beautiful fleshy ass cheeks of this horny woman.

Oh fuck! I feel her gushing goo on my neck. It's disgusting. I gag.


I practically choke on the fart as it streams out as thick as a physical object. I start to get lightheaded.


It's dark under her but I feel life passing from me. My last thought wishes for my death but I know I'm only going to pass out from lack of oxygen.


It's the last thing I hear.

© The Fart Closet, All Rights Reserved.