Since the age of twenty-one, beer has always given me the Hershey squirts. Consequently, after drinking too much beer, I have to be careful when I release even the smallest of farts. Needless to say, I have gotten pretty good at the art of moisture detection, and have the ability to release gas pressure while stopping just short of juice. As anyone knows, this is a dangerous game.
One may ask, "Why drink beer, then?" Well, the thing is, I am a beer hound -- I love everything about it. (Except the inevitable butt mud.) Since I now have a "real" job, I have to limit my alcohol consumption, so this is no longer as much of a problem. But at the time of this story I was still in college, and we all know about those years.
One night I was introduced to the one of the most beautiful women I had ever met. Usually I cannot handle any woman that is out of my league, but this one was just too cool. I am not a bad looking guy, but, as they say, "A man has got to know his limitations." Still, I must have done something right, because I got digits from her -- and they turned out to be real! I set up a date with her, still not believing my luck, and we ended up going out a couple times. One night we ended up at my place after dinner (and a couple of bars). Happily, one thing led to another.
We did not go to sleep until it started getting light, so I have no idea what time it was when I woke up next to her, naked, with that familiar gurgle-whoosh and a sudden pressure down below. Was it a fart, or was it juice? I was so hung over and tired I went for it, removing the covers and hoping to release my fart into the air to avoid the Dutch oven effect. I was in luck -- just an SBD -- so I went back to sleep.
Here is where things get a little foggy. I remember silently farting in a semi-conscious state again, turning my ass to the outside of the bed and lifting the covers. But the third time I woke up...
This time there was no warning, no gurgle, no high colon pressure -- just waking to an evil wetness and my ass attempting to slam shut. But what's worse: I was facing the outside of the bed.
I was now fully awake, and my eyes must have been as big as saucers. I stealthily removed myself from the bed, hoping beyond hope that my clenched cheeks had done their job. I ran to the bathroom, cleaned myself off, squirted some more, wiped again, and squirted some more -- don't you hate that? Just when you think you are done and you're all wiped up, suddenly there's more. This is what I was contemplating as I made my way back to the bedroom.
As I approached my room, my faith in my ass cheeks was shattered by the stench. Was it just the farts lingering? I lifted up the covers to find a beautiful naked girl sleeping next to a puddle of nasty gray-green foulness. My mind raced and my heart broke; this was the closest I have ever come to fainting in my life. It was my bed and there was nowhere to run. What do I do? Damn... she was so great.
Then I got the evil idea to blame her.
I shook her awake, ripping off the covers and pointing to the puddle. I thought I put on a pretty good act because she looked really embarrassed. Then, to my horror, she started to laugh with a "nice try" as she finished getting dressed. I was so mortified, but try as I might, I could not keep up the façade. Waves of embarrassment ran straight to my toes. She wasn't buying it, and she was still laughing as she went out the door.
We ended up dating for five years -- I told you she was cool. And no, it never happened again -- thank God.
-- Foom