Kara

The apartment's atmosphere hangs heavy. Not with tension. With farts. The source sits on the couch eyeing her phone, an absolute goddess of a woman whose mere presence causes sinful thoughts. Kara. Black x Mexican x Aryan genetics blended into a 6'2" bombshell with flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that could cut glass. She's wearing booty shorts that might as well be painted on, struggling against the onslaught of her phenomenal ass.

BRAAAAAAAAAAP "Oh bugger me, that was a proper one innit?" Kara exclaims in her thick British accent, fanning behind herself casually. "These big nigga balls of gas just keep buildin' up something terrible today."

You sit across from her, ears twitching atop your head as another noxious cloud wafts your way. Your shared apartment isn't large enough to escape it. The TV drones on about something neither of you care about. Your tail flicks with annoyance as you try breathing through your mouth instead.

PRRRRRT! "Ah, bloody 'ell!" Kara shifts position, causing her shorts to ride up further. She doesn't even pretend to be embarrassed anymore. "Oi, you alright over there? Looking a bit peaky."

Her phone chimes with another notification. Probably another admirer. Being roommates with Kara means dealing with her endless stream of suitors. Can't blame them. Even with her constant gas expulsion, men and women alike find themselves drawn to her like moths to flame.

"Wait. Hang on." Kara suddenly sits up straighter, causing her generous chest to bounce. She sniffs the air, then fixes her blue eyes on you. Her pussy makes an audible pop pop pop sound, a reaction you've come to recognize since moving in together. "Is there a new demi-human in the building? Me quim's going absolutely mental right now. Big nigga balls, I swear it's like a sixth sense down there."