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I
just finished reading the letter from Forced Air Ruined the
Sheets and frankly I’m shocked! Not at FARTS’ disgusting problem—a
fart “went between the lips of [her] vagina” after sex—but
shocked at you, Dan. Haven’t you ever heard of a pussy fart,
Mr. Savage? Queefs? After all the pumping and squeezing of
sex (especially doggy-style, in my experience) pockets of
air are sometimes trapped up in the vaginal canal. As the
muscles relax post-orgasm, the air is released. It has nothing
to do with the gas a woman might pass through her anus, as
the vaginal opening and the anal opening are in no way connected—one
is attached to the intestines, one to the uterus.
Like FARTS, I sometimes feel a fartlike gas pass from my vagina,
usually post-coitus. I also have the ability (and this, I
can understand, may freak you out a little) to suck air into
my vaginal opening by sucking in my stomach very quickly and
relaxing my vaginal muscles. Then I can force the air out,
pussy-farting at will. I do not have a “stretched out” vagina,
I would like to add. I have never had a child, I’m only 18,
and I’ve only been sexually active for about a year. I just
have large hips, a small abdomen, and very strong vaginal
muscles.
Hope that helps, Dan, and good luck getting some of these
visuals out of your head. Sign me the headmistress of . .
.
—Pussy
University for Fags
Thanks
for sharing, PUFF, and a shout-out to everyone—the hundreds
and hundreds of you—who wrote in to tell me the good news
of the rising queefs, those air-pumped-in, air-pushed-out
vaginal farts. But guess what? I know all about queefs, you
dopes, having pumped out numerous columns on them over the
years. I also witnessed my fair share of queefs back when
I was a sexually active teenager. (Hey there, Wanda!) I even
credit one particularly loud queef with prompting me to stop
having sex with girls and come out of the closet—I figured
that if I was going to fuck something that sounded like butt,
hell, why not fuck some hot boy’s butt instead?
What freaked me out about FARTS’ letter wasn’t that she queefed.
FARTS didn’t queef. Obviously what happened to FARTS wasn’t
clear since so many of you wrote in to complain, so let me
clarify: FARTS farted. Gas came out of her anus and the fart
bubble, instead of exiting via her flapping butt cheeks, slipped
forward and exited past her vaginal lips, causing them
to flap. So FARTS didn’t queef, folks, she actually passed
gas past her vaginal lips.
FARTS wrote in because she wanted to know if she was some
sort of circus freak or if other women have experienced this
same farting phenomenon. Buried in the hundreds of letters
from women writing in to yell at me about queefs were dozens
from women who wanted to let FARTS know she isn’t alone. Most
had only passed gas past their vaginas, but a few women wrote
in to claim that they have actually passed gas from their
vaginas. Read on if you dare. . . .
In response to FARTS: Of course she’s not alone! In my
experience, what path gas takes between my ass and the open
air has to do with the position I’m in. If I’m standing or
lying on my front, the path is out the back. If I’m sitting
or lying on my back, the easiest way for it to go is up, passing
by my cunt lips along the way.
—Lesbo
Breeder to Be
First,
thanks for sharing, LBTB.
Second, since all the letters in this week’s column are from
women who wanted to let FARTS know that she’s not alone, I
wanna toss a little something in for all the readers out there
who couldn’t care less where FARTS’ fart went: Hey, did anyone
else out there think the big finale to Average Joe: Hawaii
was a load of crap? The hot guy dumps the hot chick because
she used to date Fabio!? Did he think that only virgins agree
to go on reality dating shows to be courted by 25 guys at
once? Puh-leeze.
Could you please explain to me what is so repulsive about
gas passing by the lips of FARTS’ vagina? I can see how a
random straight guy might have a fear of all things anal and
wouldn’t want gas to taint the vagina, which he loves. But
why would someone who likes to give and get a good butt-lovin’,
and who we assume has gotten over the fact that butts also
shit and fart, find gas breezing by some other sex organ so
gross?
—Confused
I’m
a good Catholic gay boy, C, which means that I’ve never really
gotten over the fact that butts also shit and fart. I’m just
in denial about it—lifelong, everlasting denial, with any
luck. In other news: Savage Love’s Website of the Week award
goes to www.godhates shrimp.com. Check it out.
The meandering, chaotic paths that farts sometimes take
has been a subject of discussion among my girlfriends for
quite a while. Everybody has a different horrifying story
but mine takes the cake: I was in a car, riding in the backseat
with my legs crossed. We hit a bump and a bit of gas escaped
and, much to my horror, traveled forward toward my vagina.
It went in. I was horrified. My ass continued to leak gas
that, due to my contorted position, continued to go into my
vagina. I was, in effect, inflating myself! Of course, after
getting out of the car and uncrossing my legs it all came
out. It hasn’t happened since then and I couldn’t be more
thankful. Hope this helps FARTS.
—Retained
in Pussy
OK,
I think we’ll let RIP have the last word. Thanks for sharing,
ladies.
In other news: A men’s clothing store opened near my office
a few months ago. The place is white, the clothes are trendy,
the staff is hot. But the thing that catches my eye as I walk
past every day are the mannequins. There are 10 of them, lined
up in the window, and they all have slim hips, longish legs,
wide shoulders, and flat chests; basically, they all look
like the kind of tallish, slim hipster boys that turn my crank.
That I have a crush on a bunch of mannequins doesn’t really
freak me out too much—that’s an established fetish, after
all, with the full fetish infrastructure (websites, clubs,
parties) to support it. No, what freaks me out is that none
of the mannequins have heads. There’s a clean cut at the neck,
and then . . . nothing. Walking by the store twice a day on
my way to and from work, well, I’m afraid I’ve started to
develop a bit of a decapitation fetish. I kinda wanna make
it with a slim, hot, stylishly dressed guy with no head. Is
that normal? Am I some sort of circus freak? Or are there
other men and women who’ve experienced this desire to make
it with a hot, headless hipster?
mail@savagelove.net
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