The Gassy MILF's Thanksgiving
by ShoggothBreeder

The day of Thanksgiving, Amanda was in her kitchen preparing a massive banquet. She was happily whistling to herself as she stuffed the turkey, her apron tied neatly around her waist and her auburn hair done up in a messy ponytail. She’d been running errands all morning: preparing the stuffing, soaking the beans, putting several pies in the oven. It was taxing, but this time she wasn’t alone. Next to her nearly 7 feet frame, stood what seemed like a smaller version of herself.

It was her son, James. Jay to his friends, but to his mum he’d always be little Jimmy. He was now helping prepare the cranberry sauce, the sleeves of his black turtleneck sweater rolled back. Although he didn’t match his mother in terms of height at only 5’7, he certainly resembled her on every other aspect. His equally auburn locks fell messily over his shoulders, framing his pale freckled face. Even his facial features were like his mum’s, giving him a more feminine look (which got him a lot of teasing from his sister calling him a “femboy”), but the most striking feature he’d inherited from Amanda was certainly his bottom. Despite his otherwise slender frame, James had always had a very round and shapely butt that could put most girls to shame. This was especially notable when wearing the type of skinny jeans he preferred, which accentuated his shapely ass, like he was wearing now.

Being on break from college, he’d finally managed to return home to spend the holidays, but this year it was only gonna be him and his mother for Thanksgiving. Though that didn’t stop Amanda from cooking a massive feast like there were a dozen people coming over. Both she and her son were good eaters, after all. After finishing in the kitchen, the two of them went to set the table for themselves. From one end to the other, the whole table was full with all kinds of delicacies: green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts, sweet potato casserole, and of course, the Thanksgiving turkey. Mother and son sat across from each other. Even if it wasn’t a big family reunion like in previous years, they were at least gonna enjoy some good food.

“Why couldn’t Ash make it?” Jimmy asked about his sister, while serving himself some Brussels sprouts and bacon, his favourite.

“She said she was too tight on money at the moment to make the trip,” Amanda said, serving herself some green beans. “She’s just gotten moved to a new apartment, so she’s probably just waiting to have everything in order back there. She says she’ll be home for Christmas, though.”

“So, how’s everything doing around here?” he asked. “’cause you said you were also tight on money a few months ago.”

“I guess you can tell it’s gotten better, sweetie,” Amanda said smiling, pointing to all the food she’d bought on her own. “I actually stopped working at the office last month.”

“You did?” Jimmy asked, surprised. No way his single mother went from looking for a second job to sustain herself to just leaving her main source of income.

“Yeah, I didn’t need to do it anymore,” Amanda shrugged. “Ever since I started my Onlyfans page, I…” she began explaining, but got immediately interrupted.

“No, no, no!” Jimmy said, bringing his hands up. “I don’t even wanna hear it.”

The 20 year old loved his mum to pieces, but he’d never get used to her nonchalance when it came to discussing things like sex so openly. He’d had to endure a lot of teasing from his friends growing up about how hot his mum was, so her suddenly turning to do porn seemed like a cruel joke of destiny.

“But sweetheart!” Amanda protested, not understanding why her son was upset. “It’s just work. There ain’t nothing wrong with bringing some bread to the table, and look how well it’s doing!” she said, pointing to all the food on the table again.

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a bit much to discuss with me? Especially over dinner?” Jimmy complained.

“Well, maybe it is,” Amanda said, scratching her head. “But on the flip side, it’s helped me a lot at becoming tech savvy like you kids,” she said, smirking proudly. “Mikey, remember Mikey? Lauren’s son? He’d been helping me edit my videos, even appeared in some!”

Jimmy groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. The idea that the neighbour’s son had done porn videos with his own mother was a bit too much to digest just like that.

“Oh my God, mum, TMI!” he said with a sigh.

“... I thought he was a real gentleman throughout it all,” Amanda continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Honestly, this whole thing has made me feel a lot younger.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, at least,” Jimmy said, still very embarrassed by his mother’s words.

“Yeah, and since I’m now a fully Onlyfans girlie, I might as well look like one,” Amanda said with a cheeky smile. “I’ve been thinking of shaving the side of my head and getting some tattoos on my face,” she said, trying not to giggle. “Oh, and some of those big ear expanders! And nipple piercings, can’t forget about those.”

Jim had been a little amused by his mother’s words, but the last comment brought him down again.

“Ok, maybe that’s enough.”

“Hm, well, let’s talk about something else then,” Amanda said, a bit disappointed. “Uhm, you told me you were seeing some guy last time we talked, right?”

“Yeah, it didn’t work out,” Jimmy said with a shrug, not enjoying the change in topic. A long, awkward silence fell between them as they ate, the only sounds in the living room being just the cutlery and their chewing, until...

PPrRpfT!

A loud noise, like a frog getting stepped on, came from across the table. Jimmy lifted his eyes from his plate, an amused smile on his face.

“Starting early, I see…”

“That?” Amanda said, smiling back at him. “It’s just a bit left over from this morning. Just wait ‘til this casserole kicks in, sweetie. It’ll be pure fireworks!” She giggled.

That actually got a laugh from Jimmy. Even if his relationship with his mother could be awkward at times, there was one thing they were assured to always bond over: farts. Both him and his sister had been blessed (or cursed) with inheriting Amanda’s putrid, uncontrollable flatulence. But whereas his sister could be pretty shy and bashful about it, Jimmy was pretty comfortable with it. Another thing in which he resembled his mum.

“Ditto for these Brussels sprouts,” he said, serving himself some more. “They make me like, so gassy.”

“And the sweet potatoes? Every Thanksgiving your father used to beg me not to make ‘em because of what it did to us,” Amanda said, amused.

“Clearly you didn’t mind much,” Jimmy said. “You made them every year!”

“Yeah, it was my way of getting a little bit of authority in my own house every once in a while,” Amanda said with a huff, remembering the days when she was still married. Jimmy, noticing the expression on his mum’s face, raised his glass.

“Well, we couldn’t have the whole family together this year, but let’s focus on the positive,” he said, smirking. “At least we don’t have to see that asshole either.”

Amanda laughed, raising her own glass for a toast with her son.

In record time, the entire table went from being full of food, to just being empty plates and casseroles, with some crumbs of food scrambled throughout. Amanda and Jimmy reclined back in their chairs, holding their bloated bellies but being completely delighted by the feast they’d just had. They weren’t really surprised that they ate everything, but more so that they didn’t have space for more. With no one else over, they could just eat to their hearts’ content.

“Honey, don’t you eat the entire year while you’re away from home?” Amanda giggled.

“Where else can I find food this good?” Jimmy laughed, unbuckling his belt to make space for his bloated belly.

BUUURRPP!

Just then, a loud, bassy burp crossed his lips, bringing in the smell of meat and vegetables he’d been eating. He covered his mouth, more out of politeness than actual shame.

“’scuse me,” he said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Amanda smiled, swallowing air to respond with a belch of her own.

BBBUUUUUUOOOOORRPPP!

Her burp was, of course, way stronger and louder than Jimmy’s. It sounded bassy like a bear’s roar, and it was strong enough to make little pieces of food splatter onto his face from across the table, followed immediately by the stinking smell of Amanda’s stomach.

“Are we making it a contest already? Jimmy asked, amused.

“You’d wish, but there’s no time to play,” Amanda said, standing up. “We have a lot of dishes to wash.”

It seemed like a monumental task, but with the two of them in there, it was actually quite easy and quick to wash all the plates, casseroles, pots and pans. Before they realized it, they were done and had decided to go sit on the couch to eat some pie and watch a movie. They’d settled on “The Nightmare before Christmas”, one of Jimmy’s favourites.

Mother and son just sat on the couch watching the movie in silence, but all the food they’d eaten was starting to cause a ruckus in their insides. There was a subtle rumble of fermenting gases, building up exponentially by the second, causing their bellies to bloat quite visibly. Just a little movement, a little relaxing of their rears would cause those raging storms of putrid wind to explode like a nuke.

PPPRRrrfRRRFFffrppPPPT!

And explode it did. Jimmy had shifted his weight a bit on the couch, putting one foot under his leg, so his round butt was lifted off the cushion, perfect to let out some steam. The resulting emission was loud and raspy thanks to the fabric of his tight jeans, which rattled like crazy in the wake of his potent ripper. And along with the loud, wet sounding fart, came the familiar stench of rotten meat and digested Brussels sprouts.

Jimmy didn’t even flinch nor made a comment, and instead just continued watching the movie like he just hadn’t farted at all. If anything, he just felt relieved that the pressure in his belly grew smaller. But it hadn’t banished completely just yet.

Much like her son, Amanda didn’t flinch or flicker or even react to the powerful, foul emission at all. It was just a toot, after all, nothing to write home about. And she knew her son’s farts better than anyone, perhaps even better than himself, so she knew that wasn’t even a particularly strong one. However, she couldn’t help the smirk that crept up on her face. She, too, had a storm brewing and ready to come out. She also shifted her weight a little, which in her case caused the couch to creak under her immense weight. Once one big, phat ass cheek was off the cushion, she too let loose.

MMBBBRBRRBRPRPRRRPRVVTTT!

Now that was a real rumbler, a true earth-shattering fart. The type of nuclear explosion that could only come from the gigantic wagon of Amanda Denvers. And even then, it wasn’t even a particularly big one for her either. Just a mild toot, something to let out some steam and ease her bellyache slightly. That, of course, didn’t mean it didn’t tower over her son’s fart like a bazooka against a firecracker. The raunchy emission was bassy like a comically large trombone, enough so that it made the poor couch rattle as it roared on for a whole 6 seconds. The putrid ripper brought in an even stronger smell of Brussels sprouts. That is, if they were rotting in a sewer. Which, frankly, was a pretty common smell after Thanksgiving dinner at the Denvers household.

Jimmy, much like his mum, didn’t react either to the strong explosion of eye-watering gas she’d just released. He’d lived his entire life being subjected to his mother’s free and open flatulating, and was quite seasoned when it came to putting up with her toxic smells. Mostly, at least. He had to admit his mum’s farts smelled way worse than his. With a little smirk, the turned his head to her.

“That green bean casserole was real good,” he said quietly.

“I know, right?” Amanda beamed, always happy to hear people enjoyed her food. “Your grandma always said that you know food is good when it smells the same way coming out as it did coming in.”

“I’m sure it smelled way more appetizing on its way in than on its way out,” Jimmy chuckled. “Same with the sprouts.”

“You think so? I thought it smelled like there were more cooking in the oven!” Amanda laughed softly.

“They’re cooking alright,” Jimmy smirked, now putting both his feet on the couch, his round behind lifted and pointed in Amanda’s direction. “Along with the beans, the turkey, and… let’s see what else is in there…”

BBbpbBRrbBRPpPprPT!

Another raspy, wet ripper made Jimmy’s jiggly cheeks ripple as it blasted with the strength of a hurricane. He bit his bottom lip as he pushed that nasty cheek flapper out, then brought his hand down to fan the rotten fumes so he and his mum could get a good whiff of it.

“And that’s definitely the pie!” he said, unable to contain his giggles anymore.

Amanda laughed as well, completely unfazed by the sulphuric stench of her son’s new fart, which didn’t even stand a chance to overpower her own fumes, anyway.

“Now, are you challenging your old momma to a contest, young man?” Amanda said in a teasing tone, raising an eyebrow. Farting contests after dinner with her daughter and son had been a staple of her household since forever. It’d always been the bane of her ex-husband’s existence, but now that he was out of the picture, there was nothing stopping them from indulging in some smelly fun. Not that it’d stopped them when he was around either.

“Well, you do like to brag about being the professional. Who am I to challenge a pro in the biz?” Jimmy said, smirking teasingly. “Unless, of course, you feel too old for it…”

“Now, now, I didn’t raise you to treat old ladies like that!” Amanda said, playing along. “I guess I need to give ya some good schoolin’ on pootin’ to bring ya back down to earth, young man.”

The die was cast. Now the living room of the Denvers household was about to become a warzone like it hadn’t been in a long, long time.

Neither mother nor son needed to exchange any words on how the contest should proceed. It was already instinctual to them, almost like farting contests were something that ran in their blood. With Jimmy being the last one who’d farted, the unspoken rules said it was Amanda’s turn. Always more than eager to have a good ol’ fart off with her loved ones, she didn’t feel like holding anything back. She lifted a gargantuan, round ass cheek off the white cushion. The poor couch creaked again, almost as if groaning from trying to sustain the Amazon MILF’s frame. And with her cannon aimed, she let it fire.

MMMMBBRBrfrfbrfrFRfrBFRbfrFAAFFFTTTTT!

Now that was an all-out, no holds barred Amanda Denvers fart. Booming, loud, bassy like a rusty brass section and disgustingly wet to the point most people would’ve confused it with a shart. One could’ve easily felt the vibrations of her butt thunder travelling through the floorboards as Amanda’s phat badonkadonk unleashed its methane-fuelled fury into the world. Just as the ear-piercing sound filled the entire living room, so did the rancid smell. She was right that it smelled like the entire banquet she’d just indulged in, if it was also already digested, left to rot, and buried in horseshit.

To anyone who didn’t carry the Denvers name, it would’ve caused them to fall into a gagging fit as they struggled to breathe, but for Jimmy it just warranted a little fanning on his nose, and a fit of giggles.

“That’s more like what I remembered!” he said in between laughs.

“People pay for that, sweetie. Of course I’m gonna bring ‘em the best,” Amanda said, plopping her behind back down, causing the couch to shake yet again under her weight.

“Then let’s see if you ain’t scamming them,” Jimmy said, lifting his round booty to aim at his mom. With a soft grunt, he let loose a rumbler of his own.

PPPPPRRRRREEEEEPPTTTT!!

His latest butt bomb was more in the same realm as his mother’s farts: bassy enough to put a subwoofer to shame and earth-shatteringly loud. The rumbly explosion of rotten methane was amplified by the tight fabric of his jeans, which sounded like his pants were desperately crying to get out of the way of such pestilent winds. He simply giggled after dropping that nuclear weapon of eye-watering, eggy ass gas. He plopped back down on the couch, fanning his toxic fumes in his mother’s direction.

“How do you like ‘em apples?” he chuckled.

“Like mother, like son!” Amanda laughed. “By the way, do you still have problems with your dorm mates about your poots, sweetie?”

“They’ve kinda gotten used to it,” Jimmy shrugged. “I still can’t shi… uhm, poop whenever they’re in the dorm, though, so… yeah,” he said, already seeing that look in his mum’s eyes when he almost said a cuss word.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Amanda said with a smile. “As I always say: if you can’t toot at home, that ain’t no home at all.”

“Yeah…” Jimmy nodded slowly. It seemed for a second like the fart off had died down, when he suddenly caught a whiff that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

It felt like the temperature inside the living room had gone up a hundred degrees, like it was suddenly a sauna. Or more appropriately, a gas chamber. It was like getting thrown a solid block of methane right to the face. Eggy, putrid, eye-watering methane and sulphur, a concoction of ass gas the likes of which no mortal bowels could produce, slowly corroding his respiratory system as he unfortunately breathed the biological mustard gas in, withering his nose hairs and causing him to break into a coughing fit.

In other words, Amanda had ripped a silent but deadly.

Jimmy recoiled into his corner of the couch, pinching his nose as he tried to see through watery eyes. He knew very well than his mother’s silent farts were not to be messed with. Many times growing up, when the entire family was out on long road trips, a mere fart from Amanda would just warrant the complaints from his father and a collective window roll down. But a silent one? It had them stopping the car on the side of the road so the family could get some fresh, non-toxic air. And if they were gut-churningly putrid back then, what Jimmy had just had the displeasure of smelling was way, way worse than the worst silent fart his mum could brew 10 years ago, even 5 years ago.

“Holy fucki… freakin’ heck, mum!” he said in a nasal voice, as he was still pinching his nose. “What even was that?”

“What?” Amanda asked, looking curious. “I know my silent poots can be a bit potent but they ain’t that bad now, are they?”

“That smells like a skunk crawled up your ass and died, Jesus!” Jimmy said, fanning the toxic fumes away from his face.

“Language!” Amanda said, now that her son had finally slipped out a bad word. “But do you think so, honey? They do say toots smell worse the older you get but I never thought…”

“Oh yeah, we’ve definitely found empirical, irrefutable evidence that that’s the case,” Jimmy said, taking slow breaths as the stench of Amanda’s silent killer slowly began dissipating (but not by much).

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll keep that in mind next time I need to break wind in public,” Amanda said, rubbing her chin. “Only audible ones in public from now on, just to be sure!”

Now that the air didn’t make him feel like his face was gonna melt off, Jimmy chuckled at his mother’s unrepentant shamelessness. She’d taught him from a young age that farts are nothing to be ashamed of and there’s no reason to hold them in if it’s just gonna cause discomfort. Of course, he’d learned to be more reserved himself about passing gas anywhere like she did, but that didn’t mean he was a complete prude about it. It just meant that, at least in his case, he did lean more towards the side of SBDs.

“And that’s cheating! You know I can’t compete with you silent ones!” Jimmy finally complained.

“Sounds to me like you’re just throwing in the towel, sweetheart,” Amanda shrugged, a bit of a cocky tone in her voice.

Jimmy pouted. He knew very well his mother was setting him off to try and out-fart her, and by god he was gonna do it!

“But it’s ok if you lost this time, sweetie,” Amanda began saying. “Maybe you can try again to out-do your old woman next year or…” she trailed off as she saw Jimmy turned around, leaning on the arm rest so his peachy ass was aimed directly at her. The 20 year old’s rear looked like a pair of volleyballs struggling to be contained inside the tight black denim, and now it stood as a proud declaration of smelly war. She couldn’t even get a word in, when her son’s wagon did the talking.

BBRRPPPPPppRPpRprpTPrTPRpRRRTTT!!

Now that was the kind of fart that made him earn the name “Denvers”. The raucous explosion of putrid methane began in a low trombone-like note, slowly morphing into a higher, raspier chainsaw-like sound, wetter in quality, that ended triumphantly in a muddy pop. Jimmy’s poor jeans almost threatened to rip apart as the sheer power of his flatulent storm mercilessly roared through them. Now Amanda was the one being subjected to a sucker-punch of sulphur and methane to the face, her nose wrinkling a bit as the warm, rotten beans and Brussels sprouts smelling gas hit her square in the face. Even for her, she had to admit it was quite the smelly toot.

Jimmy plopped back down on the couch, a proud smirk on his face. He knew he’d just ripped a masterpiece of flatulence, something that could live up to some of his mother’s finest work.

“Shall we call it a draw now?” he said, looking defiantly at his mum.

But Amanda wasn’t ready to forfeit. With a coy smirk on her lips, she began poking her chin as if pondering the question.

“Hmm, let’s see, let’s see… I guess that was quite the potent poot, I’ll give you that,” she said, smirking down at Jimmy. “But there’s one thing you should’ve learnt by now, sweetie…”

Having said that, Amanda turned around to lean on her arm rest, like Jimmy had done. Now the entire left half of the couch disappeared behind two gigantic spheres, like a pair of planets the size of Jupiter and Saturn. True gas giants. Jimmy’s eyes went wide as he realized what his mother was planning, and tried to make a run for his life.

“Wait, mum! No!” he cried out, but it was too late.

Amanda. Let. It. Rip.

MMMMBbrRrRAAAPPPPPrpPPrRrRrRRrpRRPFFFBRBFrfrfrFBRftrBFRFrbfrTtTTTT!!!

Jimmy’s auburn locks were blown back as if he was caught in a tornado. A monster of a fart tore out of Amanda’s leggings-clad giant wagon, making her meaty ass cheeks wiggle and ripple while the full power of her intestinal thunder roared out for the entire world to hear and smell, and suffer. Even with his eyes watering from the warm, dense cloud of mustard gas, Jimmy could still see Amanda’s ass cheeks rippling like jelly to the tune of her own butt tuba, though it sounded loud enough to be the whole orchestra. The amount of gas that left her system was similar to the size of the most giant of hurricanes, as if every last ounce of food she’d consumed had transformed into gaseous form, making the final monstrous fart blast on for a whopping 30 seconds.

All throughout its duration, that monument to flatulence maintained an uneven quality to its sound, fluctuating between subwoofer-like basses and chainsaw-like screeching highs, and always wet as if trying to blow bubbles in mud. The loudness was such that even people walking outside on the street turned to see what that loud noise was, and guessed it must’ve been someone mowing their lawn, given how similar a lawnmower could sound to Amanda’s flatulent behind.

But even worse than the ear-shattering sound, was the smell. While not as penetrating and dense as her silent one, this one still packed enough punch to make a sewer smell like a perfume shop. As soon as the first particle of eggy, bean-scented methane hit Jimmy’s nose, he began gagging, covering his nose and mouth with both hands, as his mother’s massive ripper tasted as sour and bitter as it smelled.

After that H bomb of a fart came to an end, Amanda sighed in relief and plopped her smelly rear back down on the couch.

“Phew-wee! Now that’s what I call a Fart with capital F!” she giggled. “If you’d excuse the language… uh, sweetheart?” she said, looking concerned at her son.

Poor Jimmy was reduced to a coughing, gagging mess by Amanda’s fart. He’d rarely ever endured something so foul from his mother, something that not even he could put up with without even flinching. Age was truly making her farts worse, or he was just losing his touch.

Amanda, ever the concerned mother, quickly reached out for him, putting his messy auburn locks behind his ear as she stroked his face.

“Jimmy, baby, are you alright? Lemme open a window. I think this contest is officially over,” she said, but Jimmy waved her off.

“No, no, it’s… it’s not over yet,” he said, trying his hardest to retain his composure. In an extraordinary display of willpower, she sat back up and lifted one butt cheek towards his mother.

Bbrrft!

Just a small, wet yet pitiful excuse of a fart. He had reached his limit. Try as he might, he’d never out-do his mother in a fart off.

Amanda merely sighed. She knew she often got too carried away when it came to these tooting competitions. Before she could say anything else, she felt another sharp pain in her abdomen. Something deeper and clearly more solid than just gas had formed in her belly.

“Ugh, I think it’s time for me to go to the little ladies’ room…” she said, rubbing her rumbling belly.

“Can I go in first?” Jimmy asked shyly, feeling his underwear a little more wet than it should’ve been.