Bad Guts

Joshua Whittaker was a very strange man. He would wear a tie to his job even though the office dress code did not require it. He was meticulously scrupulous in all aspects of his dealings with others. He would pay for an hour's parking if he arrived in the car park at 5:59 and free parking started from 6 o'clock. He would calculate exactly 10% of his bill at a restaurant and then write a cheque for the tip, carefully recording the full name of the waiter on the cheque stub. He read the Bible each day. Wanting to fully digest the word of God, he read it one word at a time. He masturbated once a week, on a Saturday morning after his weekly jog, wearing a rubber glove, while thinking about his wife. Each Friday evening, he would have a gin and tonic to relax at the end of the week. 5ml of gin to 250ml of tonic water. His wife had the same, and together they got through a bottle of gin in 18 months.

One day, Joshua had a most unusual experience just as he was leaving work. He was in the lift with Tiffany, who was a young temp who had begun working at the accountancy practice earlier that month. Joshua could admit that Tiffany was a pretty young lady. She was tall and buxom, with long blonde hair, and pleasingly prominent front teeth. He could admit she was pretty but he would never admit that she was sexy, or that he found her attractive. He was a married man after all. And almost twice her age. As he studied her out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that her breasts were quite perky despite their largeness. He thought his wife's breasts were larger, but saggier. Tiffany's were big but jutted out from her chest proudly. And her bottom was very nicely shaped, round and firm looking. Her black trousers were quite tight around her bottom and thighs, Joshua noticed. He could see the outline of her underwear through the material of her trousers.

As they waited for the elevator to make its way from the 12th floor down to ground level, suddenly, a loud parping noise emerged from the young lady's bottom. "Oh, excuse me," she apologised. "Oh how embarrassing!"

Joshua automatically assured her it was quite all right and not to concern herself about it. As the lift continued to creep downwards, Joshua's nostrils flared as he became aware of a pungent, sickly aroma wafting through the air inside the cramped space. Tiffany's pretty face blushed crimson. As the lift finally reached the ground floor and the doors heaved open, the young girl scurried away without another word. Joshua stepped out of the lift after her, watching her go, and breathed in the fresh air. Joshua drove home that evening mulling over what had taken place.

Firstly, he found it hard to comprehend that anyone would break wind while not sat on the toilet, this being one of the basic rules he lived by. And secondly, he was amazed that such a pretty young lady's bottom could produce a sound so loud and a smell so foul. He was perplexed. He kept hearing the sound in his mind's ear all evening. It was like a clarion call to him from a world of impropriety. He thought about her running away, ashamed. He ate his pork chops and drank his gin and tonic. He was still thinking about Tiffany and her backside as he ran his 5k the following morning. To his horror he found himself wondering what the hole that the sound had came from must look like. He realised that she probably did the same or worse all the time when she thought that she was alone. It had simply slipped out by accident while he was in earshot. He thought about the smell and what she could have eaten and drank for it to be so bad. He found himself turning these peculiar mysteries over in his mind and ruminating on them as he knelt on the bathroom floor by the toilet wearing only a rubber glove.

He realised he had become fixated. He could not think about anything else. The sudoku puzzle in his daily newspaper, usually a source of pleasure and distraction for him, could not hold his attention. He tried watching the rugby on TV, but bizarrely he found it pointless and boring and wished he was doing something else. A discussion programme on the radio that he normally listened to caused him nothing but ennui. And always, his mind returned back to Tiffany's pert young bottom and the astonishing parping noise and incredible smell it had produced. In his obsession, he realised there was only one course of action open to him.

On Monday lunchtime, in the office canteen, he saw Tiffany eating her sandwiches alone at a table by the window. He took his bowl of soup and sat down opposite her. He was aware that his workmates might think it was unusual that he chose to sit with a temp, a single young woman, while he had his lunch, but he decided that there was nothing that could be done regarding this.

"Good afternoon," he greeted her as he sat down.

"Hello," she said incredibly quietly, and blushed and looked down at her food.

"It's Tiffany, isn't it?"

"That's right."

"I am Joshua."

"I know."

The introductions out of the way, Joshua carefully and quietly began to annunciate the words he had rehearsed the previous evening.

"Tiffany, I wanted to speak to you about what passed between us in the lift on Friday evening..."

She began to apologise but he held up his hand for her to be quiet and continued his speech in a gentle tone that would not carry across the canteen. "There is no need to apologise, I realise that we are all only human and as such these things must happen. However, I have never had such a powerful effect caused in me by bodily function of another. I find myself mystified. My mental state has been incapacitated. I have come to the conclusion that there is only one way for me to move on from this and I need your help. Tiffany, will you help me? Will you do it again for me?"

She looked baffled. "What...now?"

"No, not now, that would hardly be appropriate. If you agree to help me, I can arrange for a private location for us to meet at. Outside work hours. I would be happy to pay any expenses and compensate you for your time. Tiffany, do you remember what it was you ate for lunch on Friday."

"I had a chicken Balti and a naan bread."

"I would like you to eat the same again. I can book us a table at a suitable restaurant."

"What do you mean by a private location?"

"The Marriott in the centre of town."

"Let me get this straight: you are asking me out for dinner at a curry house and then taking me to a hotel afterwards? Like on a date?"

"Not a date as such. I am a married man. Tiffany, I am asking for your help."

"You want me to..."

"Yes. Tiffany, please just say you will help me."

"Um, OK?" she giggled. "Yes, why not." She giggled some more then sighed. "I've never had a date with a married man before. I've never had an affair before."

"Tiffany, this is not a date or an affair. Will one night this week be OK for you?"

"Yes, Thursday is fine. I have yoga on Wednesday and I'm seeing my mum on Friday, but I'm free Thursday."

"OK. I shall book a table at a restaurant. I will let you know the time and location. Thank you for agreeing to this. I shall see you on Thursday. Have a good afternoon." He picked up his soup bowl and promptly left the canteen. Tiffany sat bemused, staring out of the window at the park next to the office.

Joshua did his best to avoid her for the next three days. He didn't have lunch in the canteen and if he saw the girl in the corridor or on the stairways, he promptly went the other way. He found an Indian restaurant that apparently had a reputation for serving a good chicken Balti and booked a table for two, giving his name as Mr Johnson. He wrote a brief note and left it on Tiffany's desk early on Thursday morning:

Tiffany, meet me at the Star of India on Vine Street at 7 pm this evening. Regards, J

He had booked the table for a quarter to seven, but it was his intention to get there earlier than her so he could survey the situation before she arrived. However, when he arrived at the restaurant she was already stood outside. She had changed from the clothes she wore in the office; she now wore a red gingham dress. He still wore the same shirt and tie and cardigan he had worn to work that morning, however he had washed his face and brushed his teeth at the office before leaving for the restaurant.

"Hi!" she greeted him cheerfully, extinguishing her cigarette. "I got here early, so I'm glad you did too or I would have been waiting around."

Joshua was a little thrown off that the evening already wasn't going to plan. They went in, he gave his false name to the friendly Indian maître de, and they were shown to a table for two towards the back of the opulently decorated restaurant.

Tiffany smiled him as they sat down and said "This is exciting! It's romantic. You gave a false name like they do in films, I know Johnson isn't your real name. Is this your first affair? I bet it isn't. How many mistresses have you had?"

"Tiffany, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, but I must insist that this is not an affair, and you are not my mistress. This is just two people meeting because one needs the others help. I'm really grateful that you have agreed to do that, and I am happy to compensate you for your time and effort."

"I am not a whore," she said sharply.

"OK. Then thank you for coming."

The waiter came over and took their order. Joshua ordered for them, a chicken Balti, a garlic naan and a pilau rice for Tiffany, mushroom omelette and chips for himself. To drink: a pint of lager for Tiffany, mineral water for Joshua.

They talked about work for a while, then Tiffany told him something of her life story. He feigned interest. The food came and they ate. It was good. Tiffany ate with gusto, using her fork to shovel curry and rice in her mouth and tearing at the bread with her hands. Joshua cut the omelette into segments and carefully ate each of them, then ate the chips one at a time.

Tiffany finished her food first. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened in the lift last week. I was so embarrassed afterwards!" She laughed.

"It was incredible. I have never known any woman to do something like that in front of me before. That's why I wanted to meet you this evening, I must see you do it again."

"I can try for you."

"Not now. I have booked a room at the Marriott; we can go there afterwards."

"Ah, OK. That will be romantic, a night in a hotel together."

"You can stay but I can't. I must get home. Tiffany, I just want you to do it again for me. And I want to be able to see it and watch while you do it. I want to be able to see your hole opening and closing, and I want my face to be right up by it. I want to be able to feel it blowing against my face when it comes out of you. And I want to be able to smell it. I want you to do it right on my nose, so the smell goes right up my nostrils."

She laughed again. "You're so funny!"

He paid the bill, and they took a ten-minute walk across the park to the hotel. It was a fine evening. Tiffany asked if they could hold hands, Joshua said he would prefer not to. He was conscious that someone who knew him might see them together. They checked into the hotel, again under the assumed name of Johnson.

In the hotel room, Tiffany began looking around at the fixtures and fittings and expressing her approval of them. Joshua took a wicker armchair and placed it by the bed. He sat on the chair and said to her: "Are you ready to try yet? Perhaps if you crouched on the bed and I sat here?"

"Would you like a drink first?" she said, looking in the mini bar. "Shall I put some music on?"

"No drink for me, thank you. But you can put the radio on if you like."

She switched on the TV and found a radio station that was playing music, then sat on the bed.

"Perhaps if you crouched on all fours and faced away from me?"

She complied. He stood up and rearranged her, then sat down in the armchair, happy with the positioning of her bottom.

"Are you ready to try for me?"

"I think so. I can definitely feel something down there."

"Good. Now pull up your skirts and pull down your knickers."

She obeyed, lifting her dress up over her back and revealing her frilly white panties, and then lowering these down the back of her thighs to expose her broad, pale buttocks to him.

"Now, pull apart your cheeks so I can see the hole," he instructed.

Tiffany put her hands on her rump and pulled her fine, round buttocks apart, showing the inside of her crevice to him. Joshua examine her hole with interest, but he was somewhat displeased that he could also see her vagina.

"Could you put one hand over your lady-parts, please?"

She put one hand between her legs and covered her labia with her fingers. "Like this you mean?"

"Yes, but now you can't hold your cheeks apart. I know, I'll spread your cheeks and you cover your bits."

Tiffany kept one hand in place on her vagina and lent the other arm on the bed. Joshua put both of his hands on her rear end and parted her bum cheeks. Satisfied that he could now see everything he wanted to and nothing he didn't want to, he got back to studying her anus. His careful scrutiny of her crack revealed something he had not expected and was not to his taste. There were several small fragments of toilet paper adhered to the edges of Tiffany's hole, and even a few particles of dried faeces attached to the fine blonde hairs that grew in her crevice. He inhaled through his nostrils, smelling her shitty arsehole.

"Tiffany, did you have a shower before coming out this evening?"

"Yes, I did."

"Have you been to the toilet since then?"

"I had a pooh while we were in the restaurant, remember?"

Joshua remembered that she had made him wait for her for a few minutes while she went to the toilet in the curry house before they left, however Tiffany had said she had been powdering her nose, not taking a pooh.

He let go of her and sat back in the chair.

"Go into the bathroom and take a shower. Make sure everything is spotlessly clean, then put your clothes back on and come back here."

"We can take a shower together if you like?" she said in a way that she thought was coquettish.

"No, Tiffany. Get undressed in the bathroom. And keep the door closed."

She got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. He sat in the armchair cracking his knuckles and listening to her singing in the shower. Things were not going to plan. He had planned this all out meticulously and she was messing it up at every opportunity. She was a most troublesome and annoying woman, he thought. Not like his wife. But his wife would never agree to break wind in his face, so what could he do? Also, Tiffany did have a most pulchritudinous rear end...

Tiffany emerged from the bathroom, still singing along to the radio, and now wearing a white hotel bathrobe. She climbed back on the bed and knelt before him, pulling up her bathrobe at the back to show him her behind.

"All clean now, clean as a whistle." She crouched in front of him.

"Please, Tiffany..." he began.

"Oh sorry! My twat!" She quickly put her hand between her legs and covered the offending orifice. "Why are you so insistent on not seeing that anyway?"

"It's hardly proper for a married man to look at a single young lady's privates."

"But it's OK for you to look at my bum?"

"That is different. Tiffany, please understand, this is not a romantic liaison."

"I never accused you of being a romantic, Joshua," she emphasised his name in way that implied she was mocking his use of her first name, which was persistent enough to have become grating to her.

He rearranged her bathrobe, and repositioned her, moving her hips, until he had her in the pose he wanted. He placed his hands on her buttocks and parted them. He carefully scrutinised the inside of her crevice and satisfied himself that her hole was now immaculately clean. "Excellent," he said. "Now, let us begin." He positioned his face so that his nose was level with her anus, his nostrils flaring just a fraction of an inch from the wrinkled brown skin of her hole. "Do you feel anything? Any pressure building up in your bowels?"

"Do you mean do I need to fart? Yes, I think so." She tensed up and he could see her anus quivering in front of his face, but nothing emerged from it. She strained for a few more moments, Joshua could hear her grunting as she exhaled at the end of each push. However, no air was exhaled from the end he was facing.

"Just relax, it will come."

"It's really difficult to fart on demand, you know? I can feel it's there, but it doesn't want to come out."

She relaxed for a moment, then strained again. Still nothing emerged. Joshua stared intently at her pulsating brown hole, willing a sudden rush of wind from it like there had been in the lift on Friday evening.

"I had curry and lager, normally that makes me really windy."

"Maybe you haven't had long enough to digest it? Don't worry, just relax, it will come."

They waited longer, Tiffany tensing and straining periodically, Joshua waiting expectantly. But nothing happened.

"It's so frustrating!" she complained.

"Don't force it, just let it build up naturally. It will come eventually."

Tiffany ignored his advice and strained harder and harder. And suddenly, unexpectedly, there was a single, loud pip from her bum-hole. Joshua saw her ring open and snap shut again instantly, and a small puff of stale air escaped her bowels and floated into his face. And that was it, the extent of the flatulence that Tiffany was able to produce that evening. It was getting late and Joshua said he had to get home to his wife and children. Tiffany stayed the night in the hotel after he left.

The next day, mid-morning, Joshua looked out of the office window and saw Tiffany heading for the smoking shelter. He pretended to head for the toilet, but once out in the corridor he took a diversion down the stairs and hurried out to where Tiffany stood smoking a cigarette.

"Hello," she greeted him coolly.

"Tiffany, good morning."

"You know, I was farting like a pig all night after you left."

"I might have guessed," he said glumly.

"I think it was the pressure to perform. It made my bottom shy." She drew on her cigarette.

"That's understandable. Tiffany, what I wanted to ask you is, will you try again for me?"

"Yeah, why not? Where do you want to go this time? KFC gives me bad guts sometimes."

"I'll think about it. I'll think of a place. I'll let you know."

"Cool." She puffed on the cigarette again.

"Thanks for trying for me."

"That's OK. I like you."

He smiled at her and turned to leave.

"Wait, before you go..." he looked back at her. She screwed up her face and stood very still, then a long wet gurgling growl emanated from the back of her trousers. She giggled, he shook his head and walked away.

Joshua continued to brood over the weekend. His wife mentioned that he seemed preoccupied, but he made an excuse that he was stressed about work. In church on Sunday, he hardly paid attention to the sermon at all, and he usually really enjoyed Reverend Fisher's preaching. An idea came to him, and he decided to put it into action.

On Monday morning, he arrived at work an hour early. The office was deserted apart from the cleaners. He had small parcel, which he deposited in Tiffany's in-tray before going to his own desk to begin his work.

At 10:27 that morning, he received an email to his work email address from Tiffany.

From: Tiffany Spector

To: Joshua Whittaker

Sent: Monday 4 October 10:27 am

Subject: KFC

Good Morning Joshua,

Thank you so much for the lovely present you left in my tray this morning. And thank you also for the dinner invitation. I must say, when I saw I had a present from you I wasn't expecting it to be breath mints and sticking plasters?! A most unusual choice! I think something like this would be a much more suitable gift: