Thunderpants-less

Chapter 4: Fifty Shades of Farts

Allan

I whistled as a walked up the street to my home that I shared with my lovely Patty-cakes. People smiled at me as I passed. I've been told I'm a wonderful whistler although I can never quite get my lips to make the right shape so to make up for it by singing. What does that make me? You may ask. It makes me a whistling maestro. I opened the door of my home and noticed red petals on the floor. I backed in away in horror, grabbing for my epi pen in case I reacted to the strange alien botanical presence.

"Patrick…" I gasped out.

"Oh Allaaaaaan!" I heard drifting out of the bedroom.

"There's something blasphemous on the floor!" I answered.

"It's just paper." He giggled in response. I heard an explosive phhhhhhhhhrp of pleasure and then more giggling.

Feeling silly I walked inside, stepping on the paper petals and taking off my hat. I rubbed my ever-growing forehead and walked towards the bedroom. Patrick was wearing a sexy bra and speedo made of scrap material from the first pair of thunderpants I made him and was hovering midair. I took off my glasses and cleaned them, thinking that it was all an illusion. A playful toot from my love brought me out of my reverie and back into the bedroom. I took the vision of my husband in, body and soul. My breath caught in my throat.

Patrick blushed and said, "I thought we could use a little spicing up." He began passing gas uncontrollably which caused him to sway dangerously in the swing-like contraption. This was something that he did when he was distressed or nervous.

I took his chubby face cheeks in my hands and pressed my forehead towards his. "Thank you," I whispered, "you are as beautiful as the Qualaxaria XII Galaxy."

I stepped back and drank in the sight of beautiful husband. His arms and legs were strapped into a swing like a hog over a fire at a luau. Only instead of bacon cooking, it was setting my heart on fire. I traced a single finger down his spine and felt him shiver. I stepped in front of him and ran my hands down his chest onto his makeshift thunder pants bra. His large fleshy moobs filled out the fabric nicely and kept the flabs on his chest together instead of just rolling to the side as normally do. Kept together like that, I was able to take each moob into my palms. I felt the erect nipple through the fabric and began to rub them, the flesh oozing through the openings between my fingers when I pressed to hard.

Patrick gasped "BEST!"

I crawled underneath him and undid the man-bra with my teeth. I had large buck teeth and they delicately bit into Patrick's Back.

"DAY!" Patrick shouted.

From underneath him, I slipped my hands into the back of his speedo. They slipped quickly and silently on the sweat of his skin. As hands took in the new wet flesh of his cheeks Patrick threw his head back.

"EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" He screamed and he let out a monstrous mass of gas. It propelled him forward and my hands slipped out of the speedo. Patrick kept screaming EVER as his body became parallel with the floor as he flew up on the swing. To my horror he kept going. Luckily because his back was arched his head was safe, but I winced as his penis smashed into the ceiling. Patrick kept going around and I froze with horror as head and mangled penis finished it's 360 arc and shot towards me. His face connected with my asshole and I was thrown off my feet into the wall on the other side of the room.

I woke up staring at the familiar white sight of the hospital ceiling. Like old times, I felt a familiar moist and fat hand in mine. I rolled my head over and looked my love in the face.

"I'm so sorry," he said, tearing up. "I just wanted things to be exciting like they used to be."

I reached towards him and caressed his face.

"Do you know what I am?" I asked him,

"No," Patrick managed to choke out through his sniffling.

"I'm a man in love. That's what I am." And I brought his face towards my hospital bed and kissed him.