" The smoker, safely stowed in a corner of the garage, was hand-fabricated, microprocessor-controlled, electrically heated, and I could stick meat in ...there and guarantee that the temperature in the box would track within two degrees of the temperature I chose. It was the subject of much mirth, but I could turn out perfectly cooked, perfectly smoked meat."Yeah, I know what you say, but still..." She laughed."Laugh if you want, but wait'll Saturday. See if it ain't the best barbecue you've ever. Suddenly..."Ahhhhh..." She sighed loudly as a big bubbly fart erupted from her ass right into my face. It was like my whole face was engulfed in an invisible cloud of stink. It smelt like a sickenly strong mix of rotten eggs and cheap perfume. I almost gagged. I was oddly disgusted and aroused at the same time. The whole humiliation of it sent shockwaves of pleasure down my spine and setting my clit on fire with excitement."You smell that? Does it smell good?!" Clarissa taunted, wiggling her. The older woman was sitting in her old wingback chair beside the window, bathed in the long golden light of early fall. She wore her usual immaculate skirt suit, perfectly pressed, not a single button out of place. Her chestnut hair was held behind her head in a neat bun, delicate reading glasses resting on her pretty nose.I moved across the room, the quick click of my heels on the wooden floor matching the fast beat of my pounding heart. With trembling hands, I smoothed out the white apron. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Angela replied.“You’re probably right,” Jeremy agreed after thinking about it.Angela was in a quandary. An hour ago, before she had walked into the apartment and actually met Jeremy, she’d thought that she’d give the kid an emotionless, fast fuck and be quickly on her way. Now that she had gotten to know him a bit, she couldn’t bring herself to do it, if it wasn’t something he also wanted.“I’ll just have to find a way to explain to your father why we didn’t,”.