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The day so far was perfect (as perfect as it can be before 7:00am) - a
high overcast sky, no wind, and about 60-65 degrees. An absolutely
perfect day for an early morning bicycle ride through the hills and out
to the coast, then back before 9:00am to start the weekends last
activities. And this is nearly everything Michelle thought of the lovely
Sunday morning - that is until she felt the cramp halfway through the
ride. "Damn", she thought to herself, "I havent been able to go for two
days, I know I should have tried before I left, and now, NOW, right in
the middle of my perfect ride, my body says go."
She quickly thought of the last two days: the late-night partying with
good friends, the excellent food, and the drinking. Especially the
drinking. Her plumbing hadnt had ANY problem with the fluid side of her
diet. It must have been the delicious, diet-breaking, delights shed
indulged in for the passed two days which had caused her problem. Now
she was alone and several miles from any civilized relief. She thought
quickly she could make it up the rest of the hill, and possibly home
without incident, and pedaled on.
Michelle had long been a fan of early-morning bicycle rides. In fact,
since shed ridden that coastal area when she was fourteen, some ten years
ago, she knew without doubt shed never want to live anyplace other than
where she could continue to experience the sheer beauty of an early
Sunday morning spent in the hills overlooking the coast. Not many of her
friends had ever joined her on the exploits, not even the few
"physically-fit" boyfriends shed had. At best, most were willing to join
her at the halfway mark for breakfast and shed often done just that -
then sometimes cheated by getting a car ride back home. But most often,
as was the case on this fine day, Michelle found herself completely alone
- no fitness nuts, no tourists, no Sunday drivers - and completely
enjoyed it. Except for the lingering cramp.
Being somewhat of a rebel and a more than experienced bicycle rider,
Michelle never wore a helmet when she rode (much to the amazement and
horror of her less-than-experienced, quite yuppie friends who sometimes
joined her) and now swept strands of her long blonde hair out of her eyes
before mounting more energy into the vertical assault. She rode her
mountain-bike today in anticipation of taking the dirt rode down the
other side of the hill and felt shed been doing better than usual,
passing various landmarks along the uphill road with considerably less
effort. As always, she wore the spandex bicycle shorts (today was
vibrant purple and grey) partly for the comfort and fit, partly because
she got a small thrill from showing off her very fit body to others she
might see (though she never told of this lest her "friends" turn an evil
eye toward her). Since the day was warm for a morning, she wore a grey
sweatshirt, cut off just below her ample chest, and had the sleeves
pushed up to the elbows. No T-shirt today due to the lack of wind.
Another 50 yards up the road and the cramp surged again. "Damn", she
muttered aloud, and doubled her concentration on getting to the top of
the hill. Unfortunately, Michelle had never quit or pooped-out in any of
her fitness exploits. If she started something, she was determined, at
times to her detriment, to finish. This was no different, and though she
had more than ten miles left in the ride, Michelle felt she could make
it. She KNEW she would make it.
Another 75 yards up the hill, Michelle became dreadfully aware that the
tight waist of her spandex shorts was gouging her where it hurt most and
seemed to be the principle cause of the cramps. With one hand, she
carefully and quickly rolled the top of the shorts down about an inch,
thinking it would change the pressure spot and thus alleviate the
problem. This done, she rode on but very soon discovered that while the
pressure spot changed, the amount of pressure doubled from the roll of
spandex instead of just the single layer.
With a small gasp, Michelle once again grabbed her shorts with one hand
and this time tugged up - hard. She brought the top of the sorts just
above her belly-button, hoping maybe THAT would help. Seconds later, she
realized it only made things worse, as now the pressure from the elastic
bore down on the top of her intestinal tract, forcing her body to cramp.
Without a choice, Michelle swore a few naughty words, placed her shorts
back where they were to begin with and hoped there would be a portable
toilet at the next tourist vista point.
As she rode on, Michelle tried hard to concentrate on her riding, the
beautiful day, the gorgeous views she had from the hill (though shed seen
them a million times before, those views never ceased to amaze her), and
when all else failed, Michelle tried hard to think about sex. "That's the
one thing", she momentarily remembered telling a friend, "the ONE thing
you can always count on to bring you out of a mess. If youre falling
asleep at the wheel, or have a headache which simply persists, think of
sex." After that statement she remembered a long conversation about
endorphins and what they may do to the body when you thought of certain
things, like sex. And those endorphins were exactly what Michelle was
counting on now because the pain of each cramp was only getting worse.
So she thought of all the great sex shed ever had and ever wanted to
have, and kept pedaling.
At last Michelle saw the vista point ahead. It had only been about a
half-mile from where shed started thinking about sex, but the ride had
seemed to take hours. Now poor Michelle was in considerable pain (no
doubt aided and magnified by her bicycling - no to mention the spandex
shorts) and was also very horny. "All that sex I've always wanted to
have", she said to herself and was almost startled at the break in
silence. Though her Sunday-morning exploits had always been accompanied
by very few people out on the same trail, she never had been out on a day
so completely alone. Another cramp surged and Michelle put all thoughts
of other rides, and being alone out of her mind. Fortunately, her
thoughts of sex persisted, and she doggedly closed on the vista point.
Sure enough, the transportation engineers could be counted on. At one
edge of the turnout was a tall, rectangular item - the
never-confused-with-anything-else, and always revered portable toilet.
Michelle pedaled up to it as quickly as possible, jumped off her bicycle,
and nearly without a care laid it right down on the hard dirt. Then, no
sooner had she turned to the toilet with all the relief of a finishing
pentathlete, that a moan escaped her lips.
Sure, those transportation engineers (a.k.a. "roadside assholes") could
always be counted on. They could always be counted on to lock up their
precious equipment safe and sound, lest some marauding band of teenagers
make off with an entire portable toilet in the middle of the night.
Before bursting with frustration, Michelle caught a brief mental image of
a gigantic blue Chevy, weaving down the road with an entire portable
outhouse sticking comically out of the trunk. It didn't help matters one
bit because she laughed at that thought, and immediately had to cross her
tanned and toned legs and bend over to keep a certain gate from opening.
After some moments of deep concentration, Michelle pulled the waist band
of her shorts away from her abdomen with her fingers and immediately felt
relief. A thought struck her then, and she quickly dismissed it as
impossible. Then, as soon as she gently let go of the elastic, the
cramps surged again and that impossible thought sprang back to the very
forefront of her mind.
"You're all alone out here. Its still another mile, at least, to the top
of the hill. If you relieve the pressure for that amount of time, it may
stay gone for long enough to make it home and take care of things
properly." Thoughts swarmed over her mind. She found herself horny
enough already from all the concentrating on sex, let alone strange
feelings from the uncomfortable pressure in her lower sections. Sure,
without the shorts, nothing would separate her bare ass from the rest of
the world except the thin cotton lining of her little white panties. And
sure, someone might just see her riding up the rest of the hill like
that. But she hadnt seen a soul thus far, it wasnt cold out, and if the
cramps went away, she could always put the spandex shorts back on at the
top of the hill, and coast most of the rest of the way home. Strangely
for Michelle, the idea of riding in nothing but a cut off sweatshirt and
panties, out in the middle of nowhere, produced more wetness than had her
ride so far. It was probably this alone which Michelle based her final
decision on.
Without another thought, Michelle peeled down her spandex shorts (and
felt immense relief in doing so) and stowed them securely in the
under-seat bag on her bicycle. Then, after another moments concentration
(during which Michelle became alarmingly aware of how full she felt),
she picked up the bike, carefully climbed on, and continued her assault
up the hill.
Having never ridden a bicycle nude, or even really close to nude,
Michelle found a great thrill in feeling the air blow by her now nearly
exposed crotch and bare upper thighs. Soon she found herself seated more
firmly on the tiny mountain-bike seat, grinding just the barest amount
against it. Every bump, jolt, or movement her body made against the hard
vinyl of the seat sent strong shivers up her back. These bumps and
vibrations also induced interesting, somewhat exciting tingles in the
other side of her lower body - no doubt due to her present condition -
and Michelle found that she didnt really mind those tingles. The weather
had turned surprisingly warm all of the sudden, and Michelle thought she
may not be able to wear this particular pair of panties again after this
trip.
It was about one half-mile from the top of the hill that Michelle heard
voices. Unfortunately, because at that point there was really nowhere to
stop and completely hide, Michelle stopped her ride, leaned the bicycle
against the side of the hill, and climbed up into the brush. She spied
one particular set of bushes about 100 feet up the hill, decided they'd
make for the best cover, and quickened her pace.
At last she reached the clump of tight bushes and squeezed through,
luckily without scratching herself on any of the stiff branches. Her
cover was well-picked: about five feet high, it hid her on three sides
and still allowed her to watch the road and her bicycle. Then, as the
voices grew louder, Michelle crouched down just enough to be completely
hidden, and suddenly realized a problem.
Having relieved herself of the spandex shorts and thus the pressure, her
body responded by not cramping. However, now that she found herself
nearly exposed, and more than a little nervous, the cramps returned -
with a vengeance.
Suddenly Michelle had no idea what to do except stand crouched behind the
bushes, cross her legs as tight as she ever could, clench he fists and
prey. The riders had now come into view and were bearing down quickly on
the place where her bicycle rested. "What a strange sight," Michelle
thought through her clenched eyes, "to see a person's bicycle abandoned
this far out." She hoped against hope the riders would not also realize
this and merrily continue on their little way. However, a certain
squeaking of brakes, known all-too-well to those who frequently ride
bicycles, shattered every prayer Michelle had at the moment.
Though she could not hear them, Michelle could see the riders now
clustered near her bicycle, talking and occasionally pointing at it. It
was a group of two men and two women, and Michelle thought for just a
moment shed like to have those two somewhat "yuppie" men up in the bushes
with her, servicing every whim she could think of - after she took care
of one certain, rather pressing (a complete understatement) problem.
"Please, oh please, oh please go away. Just go on. The bike is safe,
Ill be back down to get it in a moment. Just go away and everything will
be fine." Then, as if to answer her whispered prayer, one of the men
dismounted his bicycle and sat down, obviously to watch the disappeared
riders bicycle until he or she returned.
"Oh Jesus Christ!", muttered Michelle, partly from the mans ignorant
action, but mostly from the immense cramp squeezing her bowels. The two
days without a significant trip to the ladies room was paying off now, oh
yes it was, and Michelle swore at that moment to never let something like
this happen again. Sure, they were absolutely impossible-to-determine
circumstances, but hey, anybody with a little sense could know to try to
poop before a ride, especially after not having gone for two whole days.
Now the other man and one of the women also dismounted, laid down their
bikes and sat on the ground. They seemed to talk happily, one of the
women obviously glad for the momentary rest. Michelle moaned quietly in
her pain and wished theyd go away and mind their own goodie-goodie
business. "Cant you see I need to poop?", she asked to the air in front
of her. "Dont you understand? Sometimes people dont need to be helped
or watched over!" Another cramp, this one lasting almost 10 seconds
(Michelle counted) washed over her frame and for the first time she
thought she might not make it.
"To hell with that idea", whispered Michelle, "If only I had some toilet
paper, I might just be tempted to do it right here. Just peel down my
little white panties, do it right here, and leave it for the next person
who has to go so bad. Right here, big and stinky." This last thought
caught in Michelles mind and she found herself replacing the word "big"
with "huge", then "absolutely huge". These thoughts began a small fit of
laughter, and Michelle found herself all at once losing control.
"Oh no! OH NO!", she shrieked silently, "NOT HERE! I WAS KIDDING!"
Once again, Michelle was made VERY aware of just how full she was, just
how much digested food was stacked up in her bowels, hollering
incessantly for escape. Then, as the cramp and her laughter intensified
and her control rapidly diminished, Michelles insides turned to ice as
she felt all of that fullness begin to move.
"Oh God! Oh No!" Michelle doubled her efforts and squeezed her legs
together in a way and with a force they seemed never meant to produce,
hoping against all hope she might stop the quake in her body from which
the seemingly inevitable might come. Tears from the effort began to pool
in the corners of her eyes, her stomach tied itself in a knot, and poor
Michelle stood there, breathing heavily, preying for a miracle. "Oh my
God Ive never had to poop this bad ever in my life before. Oh please oh
please oh please just stop. Just stop moving and let me get on with my
ride, let me get home safe and sound and Ill take care of everything nice
and proper." The prayer, even by the greatest stretch of the
imagination, was not working and Michelle felt her tiny puckered hole
(surrounded by one hell of a sphincter muscle and two gorgeous, round and
tanned buttocks oogled by too many men and possibly a few women) begin to
stretch open. "OH NO! OH GOD! IM GOING TO POOP IN MY (little white)
PANTIES!!" Shrieked Michelle to herself. One of the women turned her
head to the hill, as if shed heard something and Michelle made effort to
keep quieter along with force her ass closed and keep the turd out of her
panties. "Oh God oh God oh God", she panted, "Here I am, standing out in
the middle of nowhere, luckily tucked behind a bush, standing in nothing
but a sweatshirt and my (little white) panties with people not 100 feet
away, and Im about to poop, crap, dump a load - a huge load - into my
panties." Then, to her horror (and some other feeling - was it
excitement?) Michelle felt just the slightest bit of poop escape her
anus, finding a home between her oh-so-toned buttocks. It was warm and
slightly hard, feeling almost like a half-sized marble in her panties.
"Oh God. Oh no.", she uttered and found her breathing very labored.
Michelle concentrated more than ever on closing that magic gate, now
decisively opened (and surrounded by one hell of a sphincter muscle and
two gorgeous, round and tanned buttocks), and once again thought of sex.
Unfortunately, and to add yet another surprising aspect to her situation,
for poor Michelle, this was exactly the wrong idea - the feelings and
excitement of her current predicament somehow stepped up her level of
sexual want, and Michelle, for just a split second, almost let the whole
thing go - right there, standing up, and into her (little white) panties.
Finally the riders oh-so-nicely watching over her bicycle got up, mounted
their own bikes, and rode on. "Assholes", thought Michelle, "If I were
watching someones bike, Id at least stay there until they returned, or
maybe call out for them, or something." Her relief, however at watching
the group move on was close to the initial relief of removing those
spandex shorts. After a few seconds of amazing concentration and muscle
control, and seemingly without a moment to lose, Michelle stood up
straight, tested her control (again amazed at the amount of fullness she
felt), then quickly picked her way out of the bushes.
While carefully climbing back down the hill, Michelle felt the marble of
poop squishing and rolling around between her buttocks and for some
unknown-to-her-reason, found it wickedly pleasurable. "Must be all that
thinking about sex", she thought, "I couldnt actually be getting hot over
this." And then, not 50 feet from her point of seeming salvation, to
poor Michelles complete and absolute horror, the cramp of all cramps
decided to rack her body. Right there, between her lovely little hiding
spot and her bicycle, without warning, Michelle felt her lower body flex
in a manner NOT to be denied.
Slamming her fists to her thighs, Michelle crossed her legs, and bent
forward in a concentrated effort to keep the maximum amount of muscle
pressure on her anus (surrounded by one hell of a sphincter muscle and
two gorgeous, round and tanned buttocks). Unfortunately, this squeezing
also heightened the sensation of that single escapee, that slightly-warm
and almost hard marble of poop now trapped firmly between the undeniably
squeezable buttocks of her ass. "Oh Lord", panted Michelle, "I cant
believe this. Here I am, no totally exposed to any person happening to
come along, about to poop (crap, dump a load) in my (little white)
panties, wearing nothing else, and I CANT MOVE!" She felt her body
increase the pressure of the cramp and realized quickly that because of
that single escapee (now trapped firmly between the undeniably squeezable
buttocks of her ass), her anus and its internal path have already, for
all intents and purposes (in this case only one purpose) been "greased".
The poop which now forced against the inner door of Michelles anus would
have an easier job of escaping (dumping into little white panties), and
thus, Michelle would have to make an even stronger effort than before to
keep that from happening.
"Oh God. OH GOD!", shrieked Michelle as quietly as she could as she felt
the massive snake of poop once again begin to move deep in her body.
"Oh.... If only...." But out in the places of nowhere, at least in this
life, there are no "if onlys" and Michelle could only stand there,
sticking out her beautiful white-panty clad ass, and pant as the
inevitable seemed ready to happen.
Unfortunately for her predicament, yet fortunately for her sanity,
Michelles mind began to do an about-face. "Well, if I let this (massive
load) go in my (little white) panties, sure it would be messy, but I
could strip them off, grab my shorts, and make the rest of the way back
without any more problem than uncomfort." For a moment, Michelles
realization of pain and cramps subsided as she pondered her new thought.
"Then I could immediately run a shower and wash everything off, and be
clean and comfortable. Of course, if I stop now and attempt to pull off
my (little white) panties and poop (crap, dump this horrendous load) here
on the ground, not only would I most definitely not make it and wind up
pooping all over myself, but anybody coming along would most certainly
know what I was doing." Mental relief began to wash over Michelles body
like cold water. "But if I let myself poop in my panties, right here and
now, not only will they (hopefully) contain the mess, but allow me to
travel back in painless discomfort."
Suddenly the waves of physical pain and cramping, caused only by the
massive poop screaming to escape Michelles ass, intensified to a point at
which Michelle thought she just might faint. On the other hand, her new
realization of painless discomfort kept her from that unconscious point,
knowing that relief was only a step (one hell of a socially unacceptable
step) away. Coupled with that socially unacceptable step, were all sorts
of feelings of wickedness, taboo, and sexual pleasure from doing
something so bad, so un-right (but was it really?) and in the middle of
all her cramping, Michelle felt more wetness escape the spot just in
front of her concentration.
"Too hell with this", Michelle spoke aloud, "Im gonna do it right here."
With that preamble, Michelle parted her legs, stuck out her
(little-white-panty-clad) ass (gorgeous, tanned and undeniably squeezable
buttocks) even further, closed her eyes, and removed all mental and
physical locks from the magical gate of her anus.
At first nothing happened. "Thats just the way isn-" Michelle stopped
her though as quickly as it began. Her insides had begun to move.
"OhmiGod! OH MY GOD!", Michelle silently screamed, "Im actually going to
do this! I must be CRAZY! Im actually going to stand right here, in the
middle of nowhere with a great view, and poop (crap, dump a horrendously
massive load) in my (little white cotton) panties."
Her insides continuing to move down and out, Michelle felt the gate of
her anus once again begin to open, pushed now by a force, a mass,
destined only for escape. Michelles thoughts wickedly turned to sex once
again and she found herself thinking about a certain flame shed had not
long ago who had just barely introduced her to the ideas of anal sexual
stimulation. She hadnt minded his advances, even welcomed them, and now
wished theyd had much longer to explore those avenues as Michelles
current level of excitement felt very similar to that one night not long ago.
Michelles breathing once again became a pant, this time not from the
effort of squeezing her ass (surrounded by one hell of a sphincter muscle
and two gorgeous, round and tanned buttocks oogled by too many men and
possibly a few women), but rather from her very rapidly rising level of
excitement, due to both her wicked decision to poop in her panties and to
the feelings of her ass being forcibly opened - only from the inside.
"Oh yes! Oh yeah! Im actually going to poop in my panties! Right
here! Right now! Oh yeah.... I can feel that poop pushing its way
out..... I must be CRAZY to do this! Oh yeah.... I can feel it coming
now. Oh yes. My ass is definitely opening- Oh! Its coming out! The
poop is coming out! Im standing here doing it! I can feel the poop
forcing its way out of my ass and into my panties!"
Michelle did indeed feel her ass open. This time however, she didn't
immediately attempt to close that lovely gate, instead (more from the
excitement now than from her anticipation of relief) she allowed the
forcible opening and relished in the idea of the act she was
consummating. Michelles ass continued to open and she felt the massive
load poke out between her buttocks. Amazed at the size and the thrill
she was experiencing, Michelle stole one hand down to the front of her
crotch and gave just the tiniest of pushes to her wanton backside.
That little push did far more than Michelle imagined. Suddenly her body,
realizing this was not a joke, not a false alarm, decided to go full bore
with the operation and expel all which had been waiting for two days.
"Oh....", moaned Michelle as another cramp, this one firmly pleasurable,
washed over her body. She began to rub the front of her crotch faster
and in serious earnest, concentrating only on the inhuman amount of
pleasure she was causing herself.
"Oh yeah.... Crap in my panties. My little white cotton panties. Gonna
dump a load in those panties, a massive load, then maybe leave them here
for the next poor sucker. Oh yes. Feel that crap coming out of my ass.
Right into those panties. Oh yeah...."
Michelles body now forcibly pushed her massive poop through her body,
through her anus, out of her ass, and right into her
(little-white-cotton) panties. The elastic resistance of those panties
was no match for Michelles load and the poop stretched them to the
limit. As she furiously assaulted her pussy with her hand and thought
about all the naughty anal sex shed like to have in the near future,
Michelle also thought about what her panties must look like as the poop
slid out of her ass and stretched them. As the load continued to fill
her panties, now bending around and squishing up against Michelles ass
(the panties having reached their limit) Michelle enjoyed feeling the
poop continue to slide out of her body. Every half-inch brought a new
wave of pleasure as the irregular texture and size of the massive dump
made contact with her anal opening. At last her feelings of delight
started to come to a head and Michelle nearly cried out very loudly.
"Oh yes! OH YEAH! Im gonna cum right here and right now while Im
pooping in my panties! IM CRAPPING IN MY PANTIES! DUMPING! AND NOW-
OH GOD! OH YEAH! IM GONNA CUM NOW! OH YES! CUM RIGHT NOW WHILE IM
DUMPING THE HUGEST LOAD IN MY PANTIES! OH YEAH! IM CUMMING! IM
POOPING! CRAPPING IN MY PANTIES! OH YES! OH YEAH!"
Michelles hand became a blur between her legs, occasionally stealing back
to feel the load as it continued to grow and stretch her panties. The
poop continued push its way out and stretch her ass and Michelle knew
shed never felt anything even remotely so exciting as pooping in her
little white panties and cumming at the same time, all while standing out
in the middle of nowhere, completely exposed to anybody who might happen
along.
Michelle felt the leg bands of her panties beginning to stretch away from
her legs and felt through the quakes and shudders of her orgasm, for the
first time since it began, just a little bit worried. Part of her plan
was that the panties would contain the mess, and now it seemed that the
mess might just escape. At last though, Michelles body found itself
beginning to feel empty, the final masses of poop squeezing their way out
of her beautiful ass into her panties. Her orgasm also wound down, and
Michelle had to steady herself so she wouldnt fall right on her butt and
ruin half of the whole plan. Then, feeling her ass finally relax and
close (as much as it could with all the poop pushed against it) and the
shudders of her incredible orgasm subside, Michelle slowly straightened
up her body and surveyed her condition.
"Good God", Michelle spoke aloud, "THAT was one MASSIVE DUMP. I feel
like Ive lost about five pounds." She looked around and found much to
her further relief that nobody had strayed her way while she did what she
thought she could never, would never do. Michelle ran one hand around
the back of her ass, gently felt the overly-large clump of turd mashed
against her ass and found that although the panties had indeed pulled
away from her legs and almost spilled their cargo all down into her
shoes, things seemed intact. She also found the tiniest waves of
excitement (no doubt remaining and excess energy from her orgasm) flow
over her as she felt the huge bulge behind her.
"Well, now to rid myself of this shit for good." Michelle knew she
wouldnt be able to take one step without bursting her
little-white-cotton-panties, so she very carefully hooked her fingers
into the waistband, and also very carefully pulled them down. The clump
poop clung to both her ass and her panties and Michelle found that she
had use one hand to pry the poop away from her ass (using the panties as
a shield from having to actually touch the poop). The thick, heavy smell
of poop assaulted and filled her nostrils in the early-morning still air
and Michelle found it not altogether unpleasant. At last the poop gave
up its battle to stay bound to Michelles gorgeous ass and the panties
peeled precariously down but without incident. Michelle stepped
carefully out of the panties, noting only one small smear on one white shoe.
"Now to clean up just a little of the mess." Michelle looked around her
immediate area and found only scrub brush. She thought of her ass,
coated and smeared with her poop, and knew she had to do something before
pulling on her shorts. At last she spied a small clump of longer green
grass about 20 feet away and made for it. Two steps and Michelle
suddenly saw herself standing on the hillside naked from the waist down,
her long tan reflecting the sunlight, and her tanned, round ass smeared
slightly brown and sticking out behind her. The sight brought back all
sorts of sexual feelings, but Michelle suppressed them for now, knowing
she had to get back into her shorts and on her bicycle before more people
came along.
A large handful of green grass proved a pretty good ass wiper, and when
Michelle thought shed gotten most of it, she dropped the grass, regarded
her now VERY brown stained (little-white-cotton) panties laying a short
distance away, then quickly jumped down the hill to her bicycle. In less
than a minute, shed successfully pulled on her shorts (now very much
relieved at the lack of pressure from the elastic waistband), jumped on
her bike and was pedaling up the hill as though nothing had happened.
Michelle reached the top of the hill in what seemed seconds, new energy
having been poured into her body from the immense amount of pleasure and
relief shed experienced not minutes before. Thought the view was
wonderful, Michelle didnt even stop, now bound for home, comfort and more
excitement. A few of the bumps in the initial part of the downhill
brought another twinge from Michelle's lower body to her attention, and
she remembered the wicked pleasure she'd gotten from expelling her waste
into her panties.
Michelle let the pressure build up for about a minute (she took it slow
and made sure to hit every bump), then stood up off the seat of her
bike. "Lucky thing that seat is vinyl", thought Michelle, and relaxed
her muscles. As with her previous exploit, at first nothing happened.
Michelle gave a push, and was immediately rewarded with a warm flowing
sensation in her crotch. Looking ahead, she saw two other bicyclists and
a walker and knew immediately what she would do.
Michelle stopped the flow of her pee for just long enough to get within
about 50 feet of the two bicyclists coming her way. Both were men,
adding to her excitement, one of them pretty good looking. Almost not
paying attention to what she was doing (all her concentration now on
thoughts of peeing into her biking shorts), Michelle waved at the two men
and said "good-morning". They waved back, clearly startled at having
such a beautiful creature greet them. At that moment, Michelle opened
her floodgates and let that worm, wet sensation fill her crotch and
shorts. For just a moment, Michelle thought she could hear a hissing
sound coming from her crotch as she forcefully pissed in her shorts,
while riding right passed the two men.
The wetness continued to spread down and between Michelles legs as she
coasted passed the walker (a woman going the same direction whose eyes
became decidedly wide after Michelles passing). "No holds barred",
thought Michelle as she squeezed the remainder of what seemed to be a
nearly full bladder right into her shorts, down her legs, and onto the
seat of the bicycle under her. At last the pee tapered off (it felt
good, but not nearly as good as the pooping had felt) and Michelle sat
down squarely on the seat of her bike delightfully relishing in the
squishy noise made by her now very wet shorts.
It was an uneventful ride the rest of the way home, and Michelle
immediately started a shower, after putting away her bike. She stepped
in with both sweatshirt and shorts on, and thoroughly rinsed everything.
Clean, she turned the valve on the bathtub controls and ran up a warm
bath. Soon Michelle was laying back, her legs spread to either side of
the top of the tub, one hand again furiously attacking her painfully
excited pussy, the other with at first one, then two fingers buried deep
in her ass, and another most delightful orgasm rocking her insides.
Then, as the orgasm abated Michelle spoke. "That's something I'm gonna
have to do again," she said, and closed her eyes to relive it all over again.
<<< THE END >>>
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