One Couch, Too Many Buttcrack Farts

I’m laid out on the couch in my tight black jeans, peeking just enough to drive you crazy. I know exactly what I’m doing. Every little fart that slips out? Yeah, I could’ve held it… but why would I? I stretch, smirk, and let them rip—just loud enough to make you squirm. Hope you’re paying attention.