Lisette's Backthere Adventure Ch. 01

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Lisette finds common ground with another fetishist.
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/06/2017
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skriblur
skriblur
12 Followers

Lisette's Backthere Adventure, a fetish romance novelette

** Every character in this story is well above the legal age to do what they are described doing. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental. **

*****

Lisette meets playmates in the most unlikely places. And sometimes she discovers a new fetish in a most unlikely place.

CHAPTER ONE

Lisette's feeling cooler than 007 with double-X chromosomes. She's even got a vodka martini (shaken, not stirred).

She's also lookin' sharp and knows it; high-waisted black crepe de chine trousers and a white cotton blouse with the cuffs turned back, a sparkly bracelet on her right wrist. Embroidered white stockings peek out the tops her black flats, her long black ponytail reaches nearly to her waist.

The only snag is that Lisette really, really needs to fart.

And this artsy donor reception for the Guild is really, really crowded.

She'll never make it to the bathroom. But there's open space on the porch that overlooks the courtyard garden, and - as casually she can with clenched-up butt muscles - saunters outside.

~1~

The door closes with a hiss from its hydraulic piston. Lisette scoots across the porch with a hiss from her relaxed back passage.

She settles herself, squints into the setting sun and listens to the cicadas do their cicada thing. The weather's seasonable - scorching and steamy - and not even the smokers are out here. Lisette has the porch to herself.

She expels again while sipping her icy martini, and likes the contrast: cold perfumy liquor going in at the same time as warm scented gas comes out.

And boy oh boy is it ever scented! There's cardamom and coriander, there's cinnamon and saffron - an echo of Lisette's exotic lunch - but it doesn't feel greasy or sticky. Powderpuffs and popcorn; dry and sweet, nothing treacly or sulfury. She takes another sip and lets go again.

WHOA felt like a chrysanthemum that time

and after a sniff

WHEW but not as light and airy as it felt

Lisette's nose is getting tickly. There's no breeze and it's so humid the smell isn't dissipating. The air feels thick. She (pweeeet!) adds more of her own vapor to it.

And there's more where that came from. She feels gentle pressure all the way down from her cecum through her colon to her rectum to her anus. She closes her eyes, mindful of a nice full feeling and the commonplace satisfaction of easing nature...

...as well as other sensations of her body, all her reactions to scents and sounds and sights and feels and flavors... all the pleasant urges they trigger... all her animal functions, her cycle and oh my ESPECIALLY the pleasant urges that go along with THAT. Lisette gets extraordinarily horny this time of the month.

SOMETIMES IT OUTWEIGHS EVERY OTHER FEELING SHE HAS

Another jolt from 'back there' breaks her mindfulness-moment and Lisette takes a sharp breath in. WHOO! That odor's really building up now. Words like "piercing" and "pungent" run through her mind...

...when she hears the door opening.

~2~

Lisette's brain thesaurus slams shut, her heart jumps, sweat breaks out everywhere she wasn't sweating before. She gets a chill as a drop slides from her armpit down her side; her collar gets stuck to her her neck.

"Hi," a soft voice says after the door clicks shut. Then there's silence - even the cicadas have stopped their droning.

Lisette keeps her eyes closed, as if that's going to make her invisible.

"Really warm out here," she hears, almost in her ear. Lisette holds her breath, as if that's going to make the smell disappear. She squeezes her sphincter tighter, feeling the gas stab way up inside herself.

She hears breathing in, then: "Mmm..." Now the voice seems to be behind her. "The way you dashed outside, I thought you were up to something like this."

And 'this' - oh *this* - this is mortifying. Lisette clenches down harder on her butthole; her fingernails dig into her right palm; her left hand has a too-firm grip on the stem of her glass. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter.

She hears a giggle, throaty, contralto. "And the wincing and the squinting, that's soooo cute!" Another long inhale. "Wow."

Lisette's face and neck flush. Now sweat's trickling down her spine and settling inside her waistband. She feels it on her forehead. And even her upper lip! She shivers again, holding tight down there, knowing if she relaxes she'll start outgassing like a volcano.

A whisper: "Y'know what?" So close Lisette feels breath in her ear. Another whisper, this time oddly sexy: "You stink PRETTY!"

This startles Lisette so much that she butt-blurts.

Another giggle, then: "That'll be our little secret!"

~3~

"Don't act shy. We know each other!"

Wait. What?

Lisette cracks open one eye and peeks out of the corner. Omigod!

If she'd been breathing, this would take her breath away. What happens is that Lisette takes in a short sharp breath. Omigod!

Here is one of the prettiest things Lisette has ever seen in her life. Short honey-blond hair and wearing oversized eyeglasses - the kind that look asinine on people who're just trying to look quirky and hip, but they're fabulous here.

Lisette opens her eyes all the way, and once they adjust to the sunset glare, she gets a better look.

Beautiful skin. Soft. Fresh-looking, even in this wet heat. Almost a head shorter than Lisette (as a tall woman, Lisette's used to that) and more than a bit on the androgynous side. A ballerina's body in a man's white linen shirt and perfect-fit seersucker pants.

"Hi," the vision says, offering a hand. "I'm Dana."

Dana's hands are pretty and feminine, soft and warm. But with nice masculine grip, too. Lisette holds on longer than necessary, and Dana doesn't seem to mind.

Wow, Lisette thinks. And I thought I was horny before.

Lisette has a closer look at Dana's hands: nails not too long and not too short, unpainted and buffed shiny. Lisette walks her eyes up Dana's forearm - a hint of soft ambery down - and along the inside to the little kink at the elbow. A cute little bump at the bicep that disappears into the sleeve. Lisette tries to peek up into Dana's armpit, then finally lets go Dana's hand.

Then their eyes meet.

Dana definitely looks familiar, but there's always a lot of familiar-looking people at these events. "Hi Dana," Lisette says, then introduces herself.

The beautiful eyes behind those big glasses get all wide, and Dana says:

"THE Lisette Emerson???"

Lisette blinks. "Is there more than one of us?"

Now Dana does the blinking. "No. No, wait. Wait. I guess what I'm saying is that I recognize you, and I saw the name on the guest list, but... But I didn't do the math 'til just now."

"Well, I hope that doesn't change our relationship," Lisette says, feeling like herself again. "It's got off to a weird enough start as it is."

"Oh no, I still like what you do, um..., back there," Dana giggles and smirks. "Especially now that I know you're a superhero rockstar corruption-killer[1] accountant."

When Lisette realizes Dana's not being sarcastic, she's flattered. And turned on. And she wants to get to know Dana a lot better.

"And I want to get to know you a lot better," Dana says. After a peek at a small pocket watch adds: "But I have party tasks - pardon me, 'donor reception' tasks - that need doing." Dana turns, pulls the door open, holds it halfway. "But if our eyes happen to meet across this crowded room," with an over-the-shoulder wink. "Please come over as soon as you can."

Lisette's watches Dana's pretty backside wiggle inside, liking the way the 'milk & sugar' fabric drapes over that pooky butt. She's thinking about how much she wants to get into the little crumpet's pants and find out just what's in there.

Her mouth is watering - she's actually salivating - and it's that thick stuff she makes when she's this horny, the stuff that feels like a mouthful of lube. She swallows and chases it with the end of her martini.

She licks the inside of the glass to get the last drops of the gin and runs her tongue on the outside for the last drops of condensation. She shifts her feet and unclenches, freeing the gas that's backed up inside her. It feels almost like a big long yoga exhale.

She starts taking a big long yoga inhale.

Halfway through she stops and thinks: "I *do* stink pretty, don't I?"

~ ~ ~

[*] Dana's referring to Lisette's locally famous role in uncovering and unraveling a locally notorious financial scandal/chicanery/shenanigans. Which is a story better told elsewhere.

skriblur
skriblur
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