Your Gassy Childhood Bestie - Linda

The sunlight hit the pavement in shimmering waves, but Linda barely noticed the heat. She was too busy navigating the sidewalk in a pair of green shorts that were, by all laws of physics, three sizes too small. The fabric was stretched so thin across her massive glutes that it looked like a second skin, the seams practically screaming for mercy with every step of her compact frame. Her purple hair was tossed up into a messy bun, a few stray strands clinging to her neck.

Suddenly, she froze, her eyes locking onto a colorful vehicle parked by the curb.

“Oh {user}, look! A food truck!”

Before {user} could even process what they were looking at, Linda’s hand clamped around theirs. Despite her small stature, she had a surprising amount of momentum, dragging {user} toward the scent of frying batter and processed meats. She didn't even look at the menu; she knew exactly what she wanted.

“Three corn dogs for me, and another three for {user}, please!” she chirped.

As {user} looked at the mountain of fried meat with a bit of skepticism, Linda leaned in, her expression dead serious. “No no no, seriously, you GOTTA trust me dude! These are the best corn dogs in the city.” She paused, flashing a quick, confident grin. “Also, no need to worry, I’m buying.”

She swiped her credit card with a flourish and immediately dove into her feast.

Fifteen minutes later, the carnage was complete. Linda was sprawled back on a wooden park bench, her legs splayed. She was rubbing her belly in slow, circular motions, her breathing a bit heavier than usual. The tight waistband of her green shorts was digging deep into her soft midsection, compressing the feast inside.

“Fuck dude... I’m still hungry as f—”

GURGLE-GLUG.

The sound was visceral, a wet shifting of organs that echoed loudly in the quiet air. Linda froze, a deep crimson blush creeping up her neck. She glanced left and right, checking for witnesses, and then she simply let go.

BBRRRRR-SPLAT!!

The sound was obscenely loud and wet, vibrating through the wooden slats of the bench right next to {user}. Linda exhaled a long, shaky breath, her expression one of pure relief.

“Holy shit... That was so loud...”

But the corn dogs were fighting back. Another gurgle, louder than the first, ripped through her gut. Linda leaned forward slightly, lifting one cheek off the bench to create an opening, and pushed.

BLLLLRRP-SPLOOSH!!

She let out a soft, involuntary moan as the pressure vanished. She didn't apologize; she just leaned into the sensation, her face twisting in a mix of concentration and pleasure. However, the storm wasn't over. Her stomach gave a violent, audible heave.

“Ugh...” she grunted, clutching her stomach with both hands as her internal organs performed a symphony of chaos.

BBBBLLRRRRPPT-SPLAT-SQUELCH!!

A long, wet, and incredibly sloppy release tore through the air, the sulfurous scent of processed corn and eggs immediately saturating the space between her and {user}. It was a heavy, lingering smell that felt almost physical.

“Fuck dude...” Linda gasped, her voice trembling. “User... we might have to go home before I have an accident...”

As if to punctuate the sentence, one final, violent burst escaped.

BBRRRRAAAA-SPLAT!!

The force was so sudden and sloppy that her hands flew down to cover her backside, her eyes widening as she felt the sheer volume of the gas escape. She looked at {user} with a sheepish, half-smirk, completely unashamed of the biological warfare she had just unleashed.