WARNING: This is a fart fetish story

Jesus has left the apartment to go for a walk. Thus, you are left alone with Buddha.
In mere seconds you are sitting on the man’s lap and hugging him. In response, he wraps his arms around you too, and pulls you close with as much affection as he can muster from that pure, loving heart of his. What bothers you is that Buddha acts a little nervous, for some reason. Or maybe you are just imagining things.
Buddha may be conscious about his body weight, but you have always loved how he is like a big plushy teddy bear. You can feel the softness of his body with your arms, and that brings a huge sense of comfort.
Soon enough, however, you notice that Buddha is becoming kind of tensed up, his hold on you weakening and his back stiffening. Even his breathing is growing... heavier. When you look up and see an alarmed expression on that beautiful face, you finally ask: “Buddha, is everything okay?”.
“Y-yes”, - Buddha quickly replies, with an obviously fake look of sincerity in his eyes. He shifts his legs beneath you in a jerking motion, as if he’s experiencing physical discomfort and trying to keep his mind off it.
“If you say so…”, - you decide that the saint should know what he’s doing and whether he can handle whatever discomfort he’s experiencing. So you trust him on that and throw yourself into his arms again, causing the former prince to gasp. However, the rapid way you do that triggers something unexpected.
Beneath both of you, a strange muffled staccato resounds in the bed’s mattress. You both freeze for the next five seconds waiting for the sound to stop – you not quite registering the nature of it, and Buddha looking devastated.
“I’m sorry!”, - Buddha says, and his face flushes red. That helps you instantly catch on the fact that the sound… was him farting!
“I didn’t mean to do that”, - Buddha explains, covering half of his face with his hand out of embarrassment: “I did my best to hold it in… But I guess that wasn’t enough…. Please forgive me for this”.
You don’t know what to say, because all you could think of now is the sheer hotness of the very idea of Buddha dropping such a rich butt bass into the mattress right in front of you! Those cheeks sure could blow off some major steam!
The scent that inevitably arises from the bed and surrounds you both, throws you into a horny mode in an instant. That sour savoury miasma, weaving into your sinuses, is just too good. Buddha, on the contrary, looks like he wants to die on the spot. He tries gently pushing you off his lap. “Well, I really should go open the window”, - he says quietly, still ashamed: “Don’t want you to suffer from this smell”.
“Um, Buddha… I think I’d rather want this smell to stay”, - you say: “I-it’s… really good. And I want more”.
Buddha stops pushing you off, looking puzzled now: “Are you sure about that?”.
You nod, surprised at how straightforward he is about the subject. Buddha voices a small contemplating “hmph…”, staring down at the surface of the bed. Then he says: “I suppose if you like it… I could expel more gas for you. After all, I need to fart, a lot, right now”. He shyly looks aside after those words, feeling guilty for talking about such delicate things so boldly.
You smile and push the saint on his back. Buddha takes that position clumsily, eyeing you with cautious innocence and wondering what you are going to do next. Once you have him like that, you part his thighs and put your face between his big plump cheeks. The saint blushes more, covering his mouth with the knuckles of his fist: “Um… Yeah… so, I pass more gas now, right?”
You nod: “Yep, go ahead!”.
“Okay…”.
He closes his eyes and grunts softly. Your heart beats faster at the realization that his next fart is coming. And so it manifests in the form of a fat stream almost blowing your nose off. A loud whiny drown fills the room, to which Buddha looks shocked. The impact is really violent up close, especially considering the concentrated stench of putrid broccoli and cheese – must be that veggie bake Buddha had earlier messing up his stomach. Anyhow, you enjoy it a lot, basking in the heat of pure heaven that just escaped Buddha’s belly.
Buddha doesn’t look as pleased as you do: “That was so loud! The neighbours probably heard it. The walls of this apartment are so thin after all”, - he sighs and then watches you sniff the stunk-up air from between his buttcheeks. “This is so awkward”, - he comments: “But infatuations are different for each person, so I’m not in the right to judge. But I need time to get used to this”.
“Well if you’re not going to judge me..”, - you say slyly: “What do you think about sitting on my face and letting one rip in that position?”.
Buddha’s eyes widen at that, but then he rolls his eyes and says: “Since I already let a few ones go for you… Why not?”.
You readily lie on your back, inviting Buddha to take his seat. When the saint gets up to move over, you notice that he’s in pain, rubbing his belly. “The stomachache is bigger than before”, - he explains with a nervous smile: “It’s best that I get rid of all the gas as fast as possible”.
He lowers his tush on your face with a quiet moan. You can hear growling emanating from Buddha’s abdomen, the leftovers of the gas rolling around in his guts. He probably felt that stomachache since the moment you two started hugging. Poor guy.
The very moment Buddha’s backside mass covers your face, enveloping your nose with those soft jeans-clad mounds of fat, a massive 2-second long roaring rumble bellows out of his ass, sending vibrations through your skin. It brings out more of that foul smell, so unbearably hot and humid, that even your nostrils are sweaty now. Buddha moans and says: “Oof, that eased the pain a bit. Still not enough though. Anon, how do you feel? Everything’s fine?”.
You give him a thumbs up, and Buddha sighs again: “Alright. Just hold on. I know that all is left is one last release. Should be quick”. He struggles to push the next one out, unknowingly giving your face a subtle cute butt-rub in the process.
Then, Buddha administers a longer wet discharge to blow into the space between his cheeks and your nose. The gas bubbles proceed to drop out of the saint’s butthole for good 7 seconds. The wetness and smell are enough to peel the skin off your face, it seems. But you take it all in, trying not to start coughing. You just know that if you did, that would freak Buddha out and cause him to never want to fart in your face again.
“How embarrassing… But I’m a lot better now, Anon”, - Buddha exclaims with unexpected satisfaction. He peels his buttocks off your face, breaking free the gas that was trapped under his backside. Buddha sits nearby, looking at you worriedly: “I’m glad that you allowed me to relieve myself… but… What about your nose? Did that awful smell not affect you at all?”. He fans the air in front of his nose since the room is now actually tainted with the rotten stench of cheesy broccoli.
“I’m fine, Buddha”, - you say reassuringly: “You worry too much~”.
“I suppose I do”, - Buddha closes his eyes tiredly: “But in this situation it’s only natural! Now, I definitely need to open the window”.
You suddenly sit up and kiss Buddha on the cheek, surprising him. He flinches back and accidentally rips another bassy fart into the mattress. “Oops”, - he chuckles shyly: “I may have gotten rid of the stomachache… But the aftereffects of that bake are not wearing off so easily”.
That’s some good news. You instantly look forward to spending the rest of the day with Buddha. Good thing he’s so chill about your weird little fetish.