There are few things more joyous than the look of embarrassment and the look of sheer disgust on your Mrs face. I strive to achieve it as often as possible but three nights ago gave the rare opportunity to embarrass, disgust and make her want to vanish in one instant. She's been a good girl so thought we'd go up country for a night in a posh hotel. Everything was perfect, Mediterranean view, room service on tap delivering a cocktail of stuff to render me stupid and incoherrant in a very short space of time. we stayed in the hotel, ate there, made the most of peace and quiet and she was treated to several lengths of sword throughout the evening and into the early hours. The bed was enormous, I could have the entire Russain Olympic gymnastic squad perform their floor routine on it, so when I awoke in a mist of my own musk and beery guff vapour in the morning I couldn't see her. On shouting her, she hollered from the balcony that she'd ordered room service and coffee etc was on the way. A plan was hatched, I know that if I adopt the fetal position my trumps become not just loud, they sound like thunder. 39 years of finding them funny and clever have, without being big headed made me one of the highest standard farters on the planet today. She'd left the door ajar so senor spic could waltz in, leaving the coffee on the table in the loungy bit of the suite. I adjusted the sheets on the football pitch bed leaving just a glimpse of botty exposed at the side of the bed, out of sight of the doris. The maid arrived, not a geezer like the night before but a very pretty Spanish girl that I could see through the mirror through a tiny peephole I'd made in my warm but scented den. As she placed down the coffee I managed to summons a noise that made me laugh before I'd even finished pushing it out. It was loud, oozing character, volumous and with instant scent that filled the air like a fog bandit. I was elated at the delivery, perfect in every way. I leaned over and gave the shocked and clearly uncomfortable waitress a tip, tears almost streaming down my face. The doris, upon hearing the first few decibles of my welcoming rapture let out a slight squeal, ran out onto the balcony and started to hyperventilate. She was gutted, humiliated, disgusted and hysterical all at the same time. I walked backtowards the beds, cupped my balls in the mirror, poured a brew and silently saluted myself. Has anyone else gassed someone in the service industry or humiliated a partner to the point they nearly choke or wish themselves dead?