Long day wiping other people's asses. Came home and let mine do the talking while I rode him. Fair trade.
I've been a single mom for years now, working as a PSW long shifts helping people with everything from bathing to transfers, the kind of physical, thankless grind that leaves you exhausted and smelling like antiseptic and other people's lives. I used to be a stripper. I loved the dancing, the power, the way I could own a room with my body. These days I stay active dancing in my living room when the kids are with their dad, boating on the weekends when I can steal a few hours, hiking, anything to feel like myself again. Lately I've been so tired of the hard work, the constant giving, that I've started embracing my sexual side again. Hard. No more pretending I'm just mom and caregiver. I want to feel dirty, wanted, and completely unfiltered.
Last weekend I had the kids at their dad's. I took the boat out by myself in the afternoon sun, water, music blasting, dancing on the deck like I used to on stage. I felt that old fire coming back. By evening I was home, still buzzing, still a little sun-drunk and restless. I put on something slinky, poured a drink, and started dancing again in the living room, hips rolling, remembering how it felt to make men lose their minds. My body felt alive, tight from staying active, but also full. I'd been holding it in all day on the water and after a big lunch.
I dropped into a deep squat, ass out, grinding to the beat like I was still on a pole. That's when it happened. A long, wet, rumbling fart ripped out of me loud, warm, and completely unapologetic. It wasn't a cute little puff. It was the kind that makes your cheeks clap and the air thick. I froze for half a second, then laughed out loud. Instead of being embarrassed, I felt this rush. I pushed again, harder, and another one came deeper, wetter, the kind that leaves you feeling emptied and filthy at the same time. I kept dancing, now deliberately clenching and releasing, letting them out in time with the music. The smell hit me rich, personal, unmistakably me after a day of being active and eating real food. It turned me on so fast it surprised even me.
I dropped to my knees, ass up, and started touching myself while I kept farting. I'd push one out, feel the vibration and the wet heat against my hand, then rub my clit harder. I imagined someone behind me, face right there, taking it, getting off on how unladylike and real I was being. I used to hide this part of myself. Not anymore. I let another long one go, groaning as I came, the orgasm mixing with the relief and the sheer filth of it. I stayed there, panting, still letting little ones escape while I rode the aftershocks.
I'm done being the tired PSW who just survives the week. I'm the ex-stripper single mom who dances, boats, stays in shape, and now owns every part of her body including the parts that fart loud and proud. If a man can't handle that, he doesn't get near me. But the ones who can? They're going to get the full show.
That's my experience. I'm embracing it.