A Tale Of Two Girlies Pt1 By Accidental Dreamer

 

 

 

 

 

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Amanda was alone in the house. Everyone else was away- they’d all got things to do, and the house was hers for the weekend. If she’d been someone else, perhaps she might have got bored with no-one around. But Amanda was different. Being alone allowed her to do things she couldn’t easily do when anyone else was there. Smoke the odd joint, maybe. Walk around stark naked, perhaps. So far, so normal. But there was something else. When she was alone, Amanda liked to become Little Amanda. She liked to pretend she was a little girl. She found it relaxing and sexy to do all the things she did when she was younger. Mainly this involved dressing up in childish clothes, playing with her dolls and sucking her thumb. But, Amanda being Amanda, it didn’t stop there. Hidden away in a drawer, she kept things she didn’t want anyone else to find. People would have thought it very strange that a big girl of nineteen would want to wear the sort of underwear that was tucked away in that drawer. And the state of some of it! It was all thoroughly washed, but even a thorough washing hadn’t been able to completely remove the evidence of some of Amanda’s activities. From the faint brown stains on the seat, and- in some cases- the legbands of her underwear, one would have to conclude that Amanda Smith had a lot of very messy accidents in her pants. And one would be right.

Although she normally only indulged in these practices in the privacy of her bedroom, today, Amanda was going to be Little Amanda with a difference- she was going to go out in public! She’d very occasionally weed or pooed her pants in the street, but getting back into the house and cleaning up undetected was always difficult with people around. Today it was different- nobody was around! Just thinking about it made Amanda want to go to the toilet- all that adrenaline was making her bowels move. However, for the moment she had to be a big girl and control herself.

She busied herself sorting out what she’d need. There was a wood not far from her home, and if she took the back route, she wouldn’t be seen by many people. Once she was in the wood- nobody really went there much- she could be Little Amanda to her heart’s content. It was just the walk to the wood and the return journey back to her house that might be problematic if she really dressed up as a little girl. What would people think if she wore her flowery summer dress, white socks and ribbons in her hair? She loved to wet and mess wearing this sort of thing, but even she had to admit she looked vaguely ridiculous- fine in the bedroom, but maybe not in public. And the dress really did show up the brown stains that happened when she sat down- she couldn’t walk home like that! Reluctantly, she decided she’d have to compromise- but not too much! She chose a short, dark blue denim skirt with a little white top that showed her tummy. The ribbons in her hair were fine; she didn’t look that different to when she was dressed normally. The only odd thing about her outward appearance would be the white kneesocks she absolutely had to wear. She loved the way her wee would trickle down her legs and soak the socks, adding to the overall feeling of having completely wet herself. She wore a cute pair of trainers on her feet. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought she’d be able to get away with the way she looked; well, the kneesocks would have to come off anyway for the return journey, as they’d be soaking wet, but that was OK.

Now for the underwear…Amanda opened the drawer and rummaged around. All these pants, every pair wonderful for wetting in, some ideal for pooing in- she was going to need a pair that could handle what she could sense was going to be a very big accident. She settled on a pair of pink high-waisted cotton knickers with thick, strong legbands. She knew from experience that they were highly absorbent and became wonderfully heavy and droopy when she peed them, and they held her poo accidents really well, unless she sat down hard. She stood in front of the mirror and pulled them on slowly. When they were round her knees they looked really huge- and she looked very cute. Once she’d pulled them up all the way, she liked how she could see the outline of her vagina showing through the thick cotton. She’d shaved herself smooth, so it looked very obvious. She turned round to look at her bottom. Her undies were ever so slightly baggy, and she liked the way the soft material caressed her skin when she scissored her legs. Lowering her skirt and pulling it tight over her behind, she could see a very obvious VPL- would people be able to tell she was wearing babyish knickers? Who cares!

She was almost ready; just a few things to take care of. Firstly, a spare pair of knickers and a plastic bag. She had no idea how messy she was going to get, but there was the distinct possibility that it would be so bad she couldn’t walk home like that. And if she was going to be such a naughty Little Amanda, she felt she ought to punish herself by changing into the most unflattering pants she could find. And there were plenty of those in her drawer! Mostly greyish-white in colour, all big and a bit baggy, some with the evidence of previous mishaps indelibly stained into the seat. Amanda chose a pair of these, and put them at the bottom of her bag. Along with her spare knickers, she put a toilet roll, in case she needed to change her pants and clean up in the wood, and a small hand-mirror- having an accident is no fun if you can’t see the mess you’ve made! As she was about to close the knicker-drawer, her eye was caught by a pair of navy-blue nylon gym knickers. Amanda liked pretending to be in PE class and wetting these; she also sometimes pooed in them, as they felt wonderfully stretchy and bouncy with all that mess in them, but the downside was that she couldn’t see her accident stains so easily. But maybe today she could have some fun in them- perhaps put them on over her dirty pink pants, to hold it all in better. She could be like those Japanese girls she’d seen on the net, who wore them over their regular knickers for PE! Finally, she chose a book to read, and stuffed it in the bag. At last she was ready. For now, she was plain Amanda Smith, but once she was in those woods, she could be Little Amanda for as long as she liked! She set off on her walk.

She was very aware of her big knickers rubbing against her as she walked, and she was very tempted to just wee herself there and then and enjoy that soggy, slapping feeling between her legs and the cold clinginess on her bottom. However, she kept control of herself and headed for the woods. It really was a lovely day, and she could smell the pine trees from some way off. Soon she’d be there, and she knew of a little clearing where nobody ever went, where she could have the most ghastly accident and do all the things she wanted to do in that state- run around, sit down, climb trees, take off her skirt and wander around in her shitty pink pants and little white top. Mmm!

She decided to enjoy the sunshine and read her book for a while, working up the need to go to the toilet. She was starting to need a wee quite badly, but she’d got all the time in the world, and she liked that feeling of desperation. It was going to take a few minutes to get to that stage, though, so she found a grassy area and sat down to read. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn’t notice the girl until she was practically standing over her. With a start, Amanda looked up to see a girl about her own age on the path, staring at her. She looked as surprised to see Amanda as Amanda was to see her. Actually, Amanda wasn’t so much surprised as annoyed. She was just about ready to wee her pants, and now this bloody girl had turned up. She hoped she’d go away. They stared at each other. Amanda, being a polite, well-brought up girl, thought she’d better say something, so she said, “Hi”, as non-committally as she could. “Hi”, replied the other girl, in a friendly way. “What are you reading?”. Oh for god’s sake, thought Amanda. “Oh, it’s just a trashy novel. I didn’t quite finish it when I was on holiday”. And suddenly Amanda found she was telling this girl where she’d been on holiday, what she’d done there, people she’d met, and so on and so forth. By this time the girl- Jodie, she was called- had sat down on the grass and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. And strangely, Amanda didn’t really mind, although she was by now dying to go to the toilet. As they talked, Amanda surreptitiously rearranged her skirt so that she wasn’t sitting on it. It began to dawn on her that she could do something really daring- she could have an accident in her pants in front of this girl without her noticing! Maybe not a poo accident- she wasn’t quite ready to poo anyway- but it would be fun to slowly soak herself without Jodie being any the wiser.

As they talked, Amanda began releasing little squirts of pee into her pants. She sat with her legs straight out in front of her, and with her skirt out of the way, the pee soaked right through her knickers and into the grass. And Jodie couldn’t see a thing! She could feel her pee trickling out of her and downwards, into the seat of her pants, tickling her bottom. As the conversation progressed, she became more daring. Instead of a little spurt every ten seconds or so, Amanda started seeing how long she dared relax before stopping the flow. Two seconds….four seconds…then a great big gush which must have lasted eight seconds at least- she’d really wet her pants now! Eventually, after several long gushes, Amanda was sitting on warm, wet grass in a pair of totally soaked knickers, looking for all the world as if nothing was wrong. And Jodie seemed nice- how the hell was she going to get rid of her? Did she really want to get rid of her?

As they talked, Amanda tried to work out how she could get out of her awkward, if self-made, predicament. There she was, dressed like a little girl in her white socks- Jodie hadn’t commented on her appearance- and underneath her skirt, she was hiding a pair of soggy, stained little-girl knickers. She was in danger of completely humiliating herself if Jodie found out what she’d done. She decided the best thing was to move on. With a sigh, she gingerly started to get up. She mustn’t let Jodie see her pants. “Hey, Jodie, I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to be going…” Jodie held out her hand to help her up. Amanda grabbed her hand, and, still trying to keep her legs together, attempted to heave herself up. Bad move. She’d got halfway up, but what with trying to hide her pants, and sweaty palms due to her anxiety that Jodie shouldn’t find out what she’d done, it all went wrong. Amanda lost her grip on Jodie’s hand and went flying backwards. There was no way she could keep her legs closed. She lay sprawled on the grass, skirt around her thighs, displaying the wettest pair of knickers Jodie had ever seen.

At first, Jodie wasn’t sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. This girl Amanda certainly dressed unusually, but could she really be wearing a huge pair of pink knickers? And as Amanda lay there, not quite knowing what to do, Jodie noticed how they clung to her. At first it was difficult to tell they were wet, as all she could see was Amanda’s crotch and part of the seat of her pants, and those bits were so thoroughly wet that it gave the impression that that was their normal colour. But she had also glimpsed the front of Amanda’s pants, and they seemed to be a different shade of pink altogether.

“Are…are you OK?”, was all Jodie managed to say. Amanda was still lying there with her legs splayed. She wished the ground would swallow her. She could see Jodie standing there transfixed, and she knew the game was up. Blushing furiously, she raised herself onto her elbows and tried to look Jodie in the eyes, but she couldn’t. How was she going to explain this? Suddenly her pants felt cold and wet and horrible. She wished she’d never thought of this stupid idea of shitting and pissing herself outdoors. And talking of that, she was beginning to need a poo quite badly.

“Oh god, I’ve pissed myself”, was all she could say. Little Amanda wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but she wasn’t Little Amanda any more, she was Amanda Smith, who’d just been discovered wearing little girls’ underwear, soaked in urine. Maybe Jodie would think it had just happened when she fell over. Oh don’t be stupid, of course she wouldn’t. Amanda sat there miserably and waited for Jodie to laugh at her, or comment on her childish knickers, or the way she was dressed in general.

But Jodie didn’t seem inclined to do any of that. In fact, from what Amanda could tell, squinting up at her in the sunlight, she looked rather sympathetic. She was still staring, but she wasn’t laughing. She seemed mesmerised by Amanda’s pants. Once again, she held out her hand to help her up. This time, Amanda got a firm grip and hauled herself up. Little trickles of wee coursed down her legs. The seat of her pants sagged slightly underneath her skirt. “I’m really sorry”, was all she could think of to say. “It’s not your fault”, said Jodie gently. “Come on, let’s see how bad it is. Maybe you need to take them off.” Amanda couldn’t detect any malice in her voice. Surreally, she found herself lifting her skirt and turning her back. Jodie could now see the entire seat of her pants. If she was going to laugh, now would be the time she’d do it. But Jodie didn’t laugh. Instead, Amanda felt a hand on her bottom. Just for a couple of seconds, but it seemed to last for a lot longer. Jodie was checking her wetness! She didn’t mind getting Amanda’s pee on her hand! She felt her knickers being pulled out at the back, and heard them slapping wetly back against her bum. And then Jodie said in an awestruck voice, “My god, Amanda, you have done a lot”. “I know I have”, replied Amanda in a small voice. For a few seconds the two girls just stood there. Finally Amanda pulled her skirt down, covering her undies, and turned to face Jodie. Still blushing, her hair dishevelled, she said, “I’m in a bit of a state. I think I’d better get back home and get changed”. Jodie seemed to snap out of the trance she’d been in, and replied, “OK. But look, if you want, you can come back to my place I’ll help you change and put your stuff in the washing machine”. Amanda was about to reply that she lived nearby, and thanks, but she’d best just go back to her own place, but she stopped herself. It suddenly occurred to her that she was in a real-life wet pants situation, with someone offering comfort and help for what they thought was a genuine accident. Jodie seemed nice, and she didn’t seem to mind that Amanda had peed all over herself. She decided she wouldn’t mention that she lived nearby, and she wouldn’t mention that she had a change of underwear in her bag. Just go with the flow, as it were.

It was a ridiculous situation, though. Here she was, helpless and embarrassed, wearing strange clothes and arranging a pants-changing session with a total stranger. Not an unattractive one, either. She started to look more closely at her new friend. Petite, blonde, nice but quirky face. Faded blue jeans- wonder what kind of knickers she’s wearing- and a white top. Simple but effective. Little Amanda started to get naughty ideas. Ok then, go for it. “Have you got a spare pair I could change into while these are being washed?” she said, as casually as she could, given the circumstances. If this girl was going to help her change and wash her underwear, why shouldn’t she get a glimpse of what it would be like to be in her knickers?

Jodie’s reaction was unexpected. “Umm…n-no…I don’t think…”, she stammered. And then, more casually, “well… sure, but I’m not sure I’ve got any clean ones”. Amanda could tell something was amiss, but she wasn’t sure what. Had she overstepped the mark? “It’s OK, I don’t really need to wear underwear after all this!”. It didn’t really mean anything, but it made it sound as if she was OK either way. They looked at each other, unsure what either of them meant. ‘Well, let’s go", said Jodie. Silently, they trudged through the woods. Amanda could feel her knickers chafing and rubbing against her skin; not unpleasant, but things were getting so confusing that she wasn’t sure whether she was happy or sad. Jodie just walked on. Even in her own distracted state, Amanda could see that Jodie wasn’t happy. Why? Surely it was she who had offered the changing facilities?

Jodie suddenly stopped. “I need to have a rest”, she said, slightly breathlessly. “A rest?”, thought Amanda. The walk through the woods had hardly been taxing- and she was the one with the problem. Then she noticed Jodie was standing with her legs crossed. Did she need a wee, or was she just standing like that by chance? “Let’s just sit down over there, then”, she said, pointing to a log a few yards away. Jodie appeared reluctant to walk over to the log. “Anyway, you shouldn’t sit down or else your skirt’ll get wet”, Jodie answered, sounding strangely defensive. But the look in her eyes was frightened, rather than aggressive. But it was obvious that she didn’t want to move anywhere right now. “Do you need to pee?”, asked Amanda. It seemed strange that Jodie should be shy about peeing after what she herself had done. “Just go into the woods a bit- I won’t look!”. Jodie tried to laugh, but just looked flustered. “No, I don’t need to pee- I’m fine!” she said, unconvincingly. Several silent seconds passed, as Jodie struggled with whatever was bothering her. Amanda had a sudden desire to hug Jodie- to tell her that it was OK to go to the toilet, that she’d wet her own pants, why didn’t Jodie do the same- when Jodie did an enormous, bubbling fart. In a moment, Amanda realised what the problem was. She’d been there herself a thousand times, in reality and in fantasy. Jodie needed to do a poo! In fact, from the sound of it, Jodie might already have done it. Part of Amanda wanted Jodie to have an accident, the other half fervently hoped that she wouldn’t. She’d been so kind to her; why would she want this girl to humiliate herself in front of her? “You haven’t done it, have you?”, she said. “Get your jeans down and just do it here. I’ll turn my back”. It took a few seconds before Jodie was able to reply. Holding back had required her full attention. “No, it’s alright. I think I’ll be OK until we get back to my place. Anyway, there’s no toilet paper round here”. Once again Amanda battled with her conscience. She had toilet paper right there in her bag; should she offer it to her or not? Once again, the naughty ideas in her mind won the day. She kept silent.

Jodie appeared to have recovered a little, and they started to walk again. Amanda couldn’t help wondering whether Jodie had followed through in her pants; it had been a very wet fart. She didn’t appear to be walking strangely- just a bit fast- and, when Amanda held back on the pretext of adjusting her damp knickers, she couldn’t see any evidence of a mishap on the seat of Jodie’s jeans. She did have a nice visible panty line, however- she was definitely not wearing a thong, or skimpy knickers. Amanda really wanted to ask her if she’d already done anything in her pants, but she was too shy. As they walked, they chatted, but the nearer they got to the edge of the wood, the more silent and anxious Jodie became. Once more she had to stop and clamp down, only this time she gasped as a spasm overtook her. Amanda didn’t know where to look; Jodie was bright red with embarrassment and the effort of holding it in, and looked a bit foolish, to be honest. However, Amanda was well aware that she had also looked foolish in her wet pants, and Jodie hadn’t mocked her. At one point she gave a loud groan, and Amanda was sure she’d let at least a little bit escape. After a few minutes, Jodie was ready to walk again, and Amanda’s suspicions were confirmed. She was walking awkwardly, legs slightly too far apart. Once or twice she tugged at the seat of her jeans, pulling them away and downwards slightly. ‘Have you had a little accident?“, asked Amanda. “You can tell me if you have- it’s happened to me before”. A long silence, and then Jodie replied shyly, “well, I’ve just done a bit. Only a little bit”. Amanda’s heart missed a beat. Here she was, walking along in damp pants, with a girl who’d got messy knickers on. She really wanted to see Jodie’s knickers. Would she be able to tell from the outside what had happened on the inside? And what would they look like inside? “Look, Jodie. Don’t torture yourself. Just get your jeans and pants down and do the rest here. No-one’s around, and it’s going to be worse if you don’t”. But Jodie just continued walking stiff-legged towards the road. She was obviously determined to reach the safety of her house and go to the toilet properly.

As they came out of the wood and into the bright sunshine, Jodie came to an abrupt halt once more. 'I really don’t think I can make it. Just let me…“, and she clamped down hard once again. Her mouth was shut tight, and she was making little moaning sounds as she fought against the inevitable. Amanda just stood there, half excited, half fearful, as her new friend went through a private hell right in front of her eyes. In the end, it all happened very fast. Suddenly the moaning stopped, she uncrossed her legs, there was a soft "whomp” sound, and Jodie burst into tears. “I’m so sorry”, she sobbed, “I’ve done it in my pants!”. She stood there, legs apart, buckling slightly at the knees, her face buried in her hands. “Oh Jodie”, said Amanda softly, “come here”. And she gave Jodie a big hug. She could smell her accident, and she could feel her own pants rubbing against her, damp and cold. She couldn’t resist warming them up with a trickle of wee, and then another one. She was holding Jodie close, so she couldn’t see the little streams rolling down her legs.

She held Jodie until she’d stopped crying, and stepped back to look at her. She seemed rooted to the spot, not daring to move in case she disturbed the mess in her pants. “Come on, Jodie. The sooner we get to your place, the sooner we can sort both of us out”. She tried, with limited success, to keep the excitement out of her voice. She took Jodie’s hand and began to walk slowly along the road. “How are you feeling?”, she asked. “Horrible. Messy, sticky, yeuchh..” came the answer. Gradually, Jodie began to walk more normally. She’d obviously given up trying to keep the mess away from her bottom, and had resigned herself to a very dirty pair of knickers, not to mention jeans. What was beginning to both worry and excite Amanda was that she too was beginning to feel the need to poo. After all, that was what she’d gone into the woods to do, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to do it. She just didn’t know how all this was going to end.

At last they reached Jodie’s house. As Jodie turned the key in the lock, Amanda noticed a wet, dark stain beginning to appear on her jeans. If she played her cards right, maybe she’d get to see what it looked like underneath the jeans. The first hurdle was getting Jodie upstairs to the bathroom. She took ages to climb the stairs; Amanda followed right behind, her eyes glued to Jodie’s bottom. She could almost see the mess being squashed and moving from side to side- not quite, but she could easily imagine what was happening. She was starting to need the toilet quite badly now, and would have loved to rush ahead into the bathroom, but Jodie’s predicament took precedence now. She was in a far worse state than Amanda….

My Fetish is Back with a Vengeance byNaughtyMisty©

 

 

 

 

 Where do I even begin? For readers who haven't read my previous stories, my name is Misty. I'm your typical ordinary looking girl, dirty blonde hair and plump boobs with a curvier figure. Not fat and not skinny. My sex drive is anything but ordinary, though. The past couple of months I've been exploring a new founded fetish I happened on by accident. Scat.

If you saw me pass by you in a store, at the library, or anywhere you could think of.. you would never think that I was the type of girl into this. I don't look like or act like a person that would ever be into such a dirty and depraved fetish, and no one I don't think would ever be able to guess that I was but here I am!

As I mentioned in my last experience I shared with you, the amount of support I've received has been absolutely overwhelming. It just keeps on continuing, too!

When I first set out to write about how I discovered this fetish, I chose Literotica to be the place I could share my secret with the random people of the internet. It was my way of being able to confess to people how dirty I love to be, without the drama that would come in real life if anyone found out.

I have gotten several messages from other women who have found comfort in telling me that they share a similar fetish and that my stories have opened them up to experimenting with themselves. I can't even describe how good this makes me feel inside!

Let's face it, scat is a very taboo fetish. It is the brunt of a lot of jokes, kink shaming, you name it. I've scoured forums on random sites, researched as much as I possibly could of why people develop the fetish, but have still come up short as to why it turns me on so much. So when I read the messages you girls have sent me, saying you feel very excited to have a friend or someone to trust that you can open up to about liking something so dirty, it brings the utmost joy to my life. I hope that us women can start breaking the mold, making this fetish become less taboo and more commonplace and accepted in the future. After all, guys aren't the only ones who have such filthy fantasies!

Why am I telling you all this? Because this is where my next experience picked up. After my last story, "Delving Deeper into My Messy Fetish", where I ended up having a really dirty time in my roommate's panties, I was riddled with an extreme guilt on my conscience that I just couldn't shake for the life of me. This is part of the reason I took a bit longer to post another experience. I decided that I was gonna stop the experimenting, no extreme fetishes or anything anymore. I thought it would be easy, I really did.

Every time I saw my roommate Angela, I just couldn't help but keep seeing what I did that night play out in my head. It turned me on immensely, and I ended up masturbating furiously a few more nights afterwards but eventually the guilt caught up to me. It didn't help matters either that she actually asked me where her panties disappeared to. I just ended up telling her that I had no clue where they went and left it at that. I had to realize that a normal person with a normal mind would never suspect what had really taken place so I didn't get too paranoid about her ever suspecting what really happened.

Then the shame crept in. I felt so fucking bad about ruining those panties. I felt filthy and dirty and a horrible self loathing for the way I had been behaving the past month. I hated myself for being so turned on over it and finally just told myself that that was it. I didn't care how pent up I was going to get, I would never masturbate to anything remotely dirty like that again. I was officially done with being a "sexual deviant". Blame it on my religious upbringing, my own guilt over giving into the urges, I just didn't want anymore of it!

I ended up deleting all my bookmarks, history, everything! Up to this point, I had gotten quite a collection of my favorite websites and videos to watch while playing with myself, and even ended up joining an amateur scat site to try to make some friends in the scat community and to be able to build a collection of my favorite videos. It was all gone within an hour or so, though.

I went on for about two weeks, being awfully tempted and having my horniness build up at times but I constantly resisted and never gave in. I didn't let myself go anywhere near anything remotely sexual on the internet whatsoever. It was a brutal two weeks but I somehow made it through without any masturbation! I convinced myself that I didn't need it anymore and that it was ruining me as a person. I even stopped checking Literotica! I was so fucking serious to stop this addiction. I thought I had won.

I decided to attend church for the first time in a very long time, I'd say a couple of years at least. For privacy reasons, I won't say which one but if you read my first experience I ever wrote on here, you would know I came from an extremely Christian background. I was seeking out serious help because I starting having the most intense urges to start masturbating again.

I craved to watch filthy videos, to see girls being dirty, to play with myself, to be messy again. It penetrated every single thought of my head at this point. I begged my own body to just give in and release the tension that had built up, but I still resisted somehow! All I had to think about was how much Angie trusted me as her roommate, and what I secretly had done in her panties, which would then keep me in check with myself and remind me how shameful I felt. At this point though, it was turning me on again more than anything else.

There I sat in church Sunday morning, listening to the words of the man standing up in front of the congregation, going on about some random passage. I didn't really pay attention, all I could focus on was the pressure behind my groin area. I felt so out of place, I didn't feel I belonged here at all. I felt I was already damned, like I had already damaged my chances of ever being a good girl again. I was wearing an orange pair of panties underneath my black skirt, while my legs were crossed beneath me with one foot tapping up and down impatiently. I just wanted it to be over and I felt so horrible inside that I couldn't even make it through the first part of the service. It was early in the morning, I was tired and more than anything, I was at an all time high of being horny. It was becoming too overwhelming.

I was about to crack. While my legs were crossed, I felt my clit already hard between my thighs with every bounce of my foot I gave. An immediate rush of vivid images of women fingering themselves, while hearing the all familiar pushing noises and seeing their assholes start opening started flooding my mind. I wanted so desperately to slip my hand down underneath my skirt right then and there but I didn't dare, especially in a church.

Instead, I got up and walked out of the sermon. The older man's voice trailed off in the background as I picked my walking pace up considerably, heading out the door and straight for my car in the parking lot. It didn't help matters at all that I needed to pee extremely bad. Before I left to go to church that morning, I had drank a big cup of lemon tea. The added pressure of having to pee combined with the sexual tension was just too much to handle and as soon as I sat down in the driver's seat, I literally said "Fuck it," out loud.

The door shut, and my fingers were immediately down the font of my panties. I was absolutely soaked, and my heart started racing so fucking fast. My middle finger found its way down to my clit, brushing over the bit of pubes I always kept on me. It was already pulsating and I felt ready to have an orgasm the second I made contact with it. I stopped, though.

I looked around me, noticing that there were many people doing daily mundane things. There was a man mowing a lawn across the road from me, another woman backing up a truck to her porch to the right, and a few religious people walking out of the same church I had just come from. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't just whip my tits out and start cumming right where I sat. I didn't have tinted windows in my car, either.

Something happened, though. Just the mere thought of being so naughty in the middle of all these people, the public aspect of it all, had me so fucking turned on that I could've came without touching myself had I tried. I thought to myself, "Oh fucking great, another misfire in my brain, another filthy fetish."

Up to this point, I had never considered doing anything in public. I looked once more around the parking lot I sat in, then looked down at the skin of my thighs, pressed tightly together again. I had to pee so bad and I couldn't really hold it anymore. I was in such a devious mood and I craved nothing more than to be as filthy as I possibly could be and to cum as hard as I could.

I opened my legs again, my heart's rhythm matching the blood pressure I could feel building in my head. What I was about to do was getting me so worked up, I could not even really focus on anything outside anymore. I focused all my energy on my bladder.

I let out the first spurt, an immediate wet spot soaking the front of my panties. It sent chills up my whole body. My fingers were immediately down on my pussy again, this time finding their way inside. I let more pee out in a stronger gush. I watched the yellow liquid shoot all over my hand, and out from my panties across the front of my driver's seat. A puddle formed underneath my ass and thighs, that was rather warm and comforting. I was so close to cumming already, and feeling the warm pee, knowing I was in public, I just gave in and had the first orgasm I had had in two weeks. My body shook profusely, while I tried my absolute hardest to look normal sitting in my car for anyone who might've been looking into my window. Little did people know that I was sitting in a puddle of my own piss, fingers in my pussy, throbbing clit and cumming like fucking crazy. I was just getting started, too.

I felt the beast come back into me. I felt the familiar craving to be filthy, the aching to be depraved and to cum as hard and as many times as I could. That first orgasm awoke it in me. The whole previous two weeks was out the fucking window, I was back and I knew this time it was here to stay. I was never going to let myself go through that agony ever again. My chest was heaving up and down, barely able to catch my breath after cumming. I could feel my nipples inside my bra, actually starting to hurt from being so hard. I wanted so much to reach up and start feeling my tits but I couldn't because another guy was walking his dog in front of my car, on the sidewalk. When he noticed me looking his way, he actually lifted his hand and waved to me!

I busted out laughing. I just couldn't help myself. This fucking guy had no idea I had just cum that hard and that I had just pissed directly through my panties into my own driver's seat! So you know what I did? I waved back, making sure to use the hand that was just previously on my pussy. Up close, you could clearly see the stringy cum on my fingers and how glistening wet they were from the mixture of pee and juices but I could've cared less. It only made me more naughty feeling knowing that fact.

I grabbed my phone out of my purse and quickly loaded up the browser. I knew what I wanted to see. Funnily enough, I went straight to Literotica and loaded up my messages. There was the familiar entourage of 2-3 messages from some random guys. While I appreciate the messages, I already made it clear in previous stories I wasn't really interested in talking with guys online. I was always more into hearing from fellow females because I felt like I could relate more.

I went straight to a message I had saved from several weeks previously. It was from a particular woman, and if she is reading this she will know who she is. She admitted to me that she has been toying with the idea of trying some dirty play for the past year and has almost come close to trying it but has always stopped herself. So what did I do? I encouraged her to go for it! Not only did she act on it the next day, but she gave me the juicy details as well.

While I will never give away any info about her, I can say this was the absolute pinnacle of my Literotica career to hear that I helped this woman discover something new about herself. She quite literally gave me permission to mention her in my next experience I was gonna share on here, so what better time to do it?

When I first read how she went about trying scat play for her first time, I masturbated - the same exact reason I was about to reread it while sitting in my car. Nothing had ever turned me on so much, especially just through words alone. So I thank her immensely, and here is your mention you asked for!

It felt so fucking good to be back on Literotica. I went to my inbox and scrolled straight to the woman's message. While doing so, I gave myself a playful push with my asshole. I definitely had to go to the bathroom, I had completely skipped it this morning because I woke up too late. I felt the familiar rush of depravity wash over me. I could't fucking wait to feel the messiness, I needed it so bad.

I read on into my favorite parts of this woman's experience, how she started out laying in her bed just like me in my first experience. She told me she was mimicking every action I did, and that she didn't need porn at all unlike I had originally. The only difference is that she said after she started shitting into her panties, she immediately reached into them and felt her shit. Now there was something I had not really gotten into yet! My first experience, I had initially gotten a bit on my fingers but nothing substantial. That was about to change.

The piss had pretty much soaked into the seat and the bottom flap of my skirt and panties were now a damp wet, getting colder every minute. I held up my phone, my eyes actively scanning all the parts of the woman's story that made my blood rush down straight into my groin. I pushed again, this time harder with my ass. I actually had to go pretty damn bad.

My ass was starting to open up, and my fingers were aching to go straight back to my pussy. I felt my ass cheeks start spreading apart a bit, but slowly. I gave in to the urge, and my fingers shot straight down to my clit. I started rubbing circles around it, feeling my pussy juices and some more pee leak out down to the pile that was now forming a bulge beneath me. I wasn't gonna be able to hold off on cumming much longer, it had been two weeks too long.

As I felt the pressure inside my tight panties building underneath me, my pussy started throbbing more and more violently. Something about the mess beneath me filling up the small space between my panties, ass and driver's seat was just too overwhelming to handle. It was so fucking dirty and taboo and it felt so good to be doing it in this public setting, that I didn't want to hold off any longer. I'm sorry, this wasn't gonna be a time I was gonna edge myself, it had just been way too long for me and I was ready to explode.

I gave into the rush building inside my whole body. My legs started trembling first as I felt the wave extend out from the pressure behind my pussy, from my ass, and I pushed as hard as I possibly could. More shit came out of my ass, and I could smell it strongly inside my car now. The shit started going up into the crevice of my ass cheeks, and onto the very front of my pussy. I gripped my hand tightly onto my lady parts, pulling my panties to the side with the other, spilling some right out onto my seat in front of me. My body continued riding the storm, I let out a moan and the last thing I pictured before finally succumbing fully to the orgasm was my friend on Literotica, dipping her fingers into her own shit as she came.

Skipping a beat or two, my heart couldn't take much more and I was shaking incredibly. On their own accord, my unoccupied fingers hastily went down into the side bottom of my panties, directly into the warm mushy shit that was all underneath my ass. You really did it, Misty you dirty girl. I couldn't fucking believe it but as soon as my fingers made contact with the mess, my pussy started twitching even harder and I came so ferociously that I let a bit more shit out into my panties. The pressure was immense. Nothing beat the feeling of pushing as hard as I could when cumming like that.

My eyes were closed for the entire duration of that final orgasm and I couldn't help but throw my head back into my seat, feeling my filled up panties ride even further underneath my ass and pussy. I was such a fucking mess and I knew it.

After I came to my senses, I looked down to see the lovely site that awaited me. There was my orange panties, completely lumpy and with shit spilling out on either side of the seat. I pulled them to the side and found my pussy lips completely caked with dark brown mush and some even inside me a bit, but I didn't care at all. The fingers of my left hand were pretty damn messy, and all but my pinkie had shit up to the middle joints of each. It was almost shocking how messy I let myself become, but it felt so good at the same time that I was back into my fetish with a new found love of being in public!

I couldn't help but think about Angela on the way home. I nonchalantly started up the car, backed up and started out on the main road. No one even suspected a thing from this innocent blonde girl, driving along in her car harmlessly. No one knew I was sitting in the messiest pile of shit, piss and pussy juices , a warm mix with some of it all over my fingers. I fucking loved that fact and I would be lying if I told you that I went home and didn't masturbate again, this time in the shower. Thankfully, my roommate wasn't home tonight.

While I still felt bad about what I did to Angie's panties a few weeks previously, I decided that life is too short to feel like the pure hell I went through the past two weeks of ignoring my true desires. I didn't care at all anymore, and if it came to it I just accepted the fact I would probably do it again given the chance. I just want everyone to know that I am back, hornier and dirtier than ever and I am never going to ignore my feelings again! I look forward to hearing from all of you!

Love, Misty

Told to Use Her Panties - new story

 

Posted by WetBubba on January 11, 2011 at 07:36 [99.114.98.179]

New story idea taken from the question on one of the forum boards that asked, “Were you ever told to just go to the bathroom in your pants?”

The Parkers were getting the van ready for a 5 hour drive to attend the wedding of their niece. Mr. Parker told the girls, “Better use the bathroom before we leave. We won’t be stopping until we get to the hotel. We have a tight schedule if we want to clean up and change and then get to the wedding on time.” They had the van packed and ready to go. Mr. Parker had topped off the fuel tank and it could easily go 400 miles on the highway without needing to be refilled.

Ashleigh, 19 years old, was home from college and was going with her family. Her favorite cousin was getting married. Her little sister, Sabrina, was only 6 years old. Sabrina was a late life baby who was unexpected but very welcome.

“Let’s get going. We’ll have very little time when we get to the hotel already. “ They climbed into the car and pulled out. Mrs. P said, “I have packed a nice lunch we can eat on the road. There is plenty of soda and water in the cooler. We won’t need to stop for anything. I hope you went to the bathroom just before we left. Ashleigh just made a noise, mumbled something about not being a baby, and sat back with her headphones on to listen to her music. Sabrina had a video in the van’s player to watch and she also used headphones so the noise was kept to a minimum.

About an hour into the trip Ashleigh started to fidget a bit. She was moving in her seat as though she was uncomfortable. Mrs. P glanced back to see what was the trouble and saw that Ashleigh’s hand was between her legs. Fifteen minutes later Ashleigh’s legs were bouncing up and down and going in and out. Mrs. P knew that Ashleigh needed to go and was even getting a little desperate. Finally Ashleigh said, “Can we stop at the next rest area? I need to pee.”
Mr. P answered, “You should have gone before we left. I know you did not because you were playing that computer game right until we loaded the van. You were told that we do not have time to make any stops.”
Ashleigh cried, “But I really need to go!”
“Well, you will just have to go in your pants. I am not stopping.”

A few minutes after they passed a sign that read, “REST AREA 2 MILES”. Ashleigh piped up, “See, there is a rest area coming up. I won’t take long to just run in and use the rest room. Please stop.” As she said this, Mr. P continued right past the exit without a word. Ashleigh yelled, “I really need to go. What about Sabrina? She’s just a little kid and she must need to pee soon.”

Mrs. P told Ashleigh, “Sabrina is still in night time diapers just as you were until you were seven. I had her use a diaper for this trip. She will be fine. If you need to go, just do it in your pants. You will feel much better and we will have some peace.”

Ashleigh could not believe what she had just heard her mother say. Another fifteen minutes passed with Ashleigh becoming more desperate. She really did not want to do this with her parents and sister right there. Then she felt another urge begin to assert itself. She thought, “Oh No! I hope I can hold this back until we arrive at the hotel.” Both urges became stronger. With her hand under her skirt and between her legs in an attempt to hold her pee, Ashleigh felt a dampness begin to enter her panties before she could clamp down to stop it. The need to poop was also getting stronger and she felt like the poo was starting to poke out. Ashleigh was involuntarily beginning to release some gas and could tell that it would be a smelly poop. She really wished she had listened to her mom and dad and used the bathroom before they left.

“Mom! I need to do more than just pee! Please make dad stop at the next rest area.” Her mother answered, “I already told you, just go to the bathroom in your pants. You can clean up at the hotel. After all, it won’t be the first time for you.”
What do you mean?” , Ashleigh cried.
“I know you have done it more than once since you went to school. In fact, I know you have done it in your pants since you have been home for the summer.”
“What are you talking about?” Ashleigh was starting to realize that she had not hidden her activities as well as she thought.
“I was doing laundry shortly after you came home. I found your dirty panties and even a pair of your white jeans that weren’t so white in the rear. I could not help but notice that most of your panties are well stained. I also found a pair of your shorts that are stained in a way that can only be from being peed in more than once.“
“Have you been snooping n my room? My room is my private area. You have no right to go in there when I’m gone.” She did not even try to deny what her mother had found.
“You need to know that you are still in our house. I will go where I want when I want. I was looking for laundry to do with ours. I was not snooping. If you leave them in the laundry bin I cannot help but see them. Anyways, like we said, just use your pants.”
“It’s going to smell!”
“We will deal with the smell. I am tired of your whining and won’t discuss this any longer. Besides, you are not the only one in this van who has needed to go.” Ashleigh wondered what her mother meant by that last remark. Probably that Sabrina had used her diaper, but how did mom know that?

Ashleigh still had her hand in her crotch and felt another stream of warm pee go into her panties. Again she was able to stop it. The urge was getting too strong and the next time she had a spasm was the end. She gasped as her panties began to get wetter. She could not stop the flow spreading through her panties and running to the seat of the van. The seats were covered with vinyl seat covers to protect them from Sabrina’s spills and accidents. The floor mats could easily be removed and cleaned so Mr. and Mrs. P did not worry about the van. Ashleigh felt the pee pool on her seat and soak into the rear of her panties. She was sitting on her skirt and knew it would be soaked. Suddenly Ashleigh felt the poo start to move. She tried to clamp down on her muscles but was unsuccessful. She knew she could not stop it so she lifted her rear a bit to let her poo slide more easily into her panties. Ashleigh indeed had done this in private many times and loved the feelings. This was the first time since she was Sabrina’s age that Ashleigh had pooped or peed her panties while anyone else was around. The fact that her mom and dad were right there and her sister was watching made it seem really weird but kind of sensual. And that her mother had known about this but not said anything until now, and then told her to do it, well that was just too much.

Ashleigh felt the hot mushy poop slide into her panties. She felt the panties tent out at the rear and the poop fill them. When she finally sat back down, the poop spread through her ass crack and up the front. She put her hand further down between her legs, feeling the wet gusset of her panties and then the soft much of the poop. The poop did not smell as bad as she had feared but it was noticeable so she opened the window. Mr. P turned the blower fan up to bring in more fresh air. Ashleigh looked at her sister to be sure she had gone back to watching the video. Her hand was still on her panties and she found her sensitive spot with her finger. Being careful to make no noise, she began to rub her crotch through the soaked and messy panties. Ashleigh looked out the window trying to look like she had resigned herself to her fate but all the while making herself feel really good down there. A couple of times she had to stifle a cry until she finally reached that ecstatic high that made it most difficult to contain herself. As she reached her silent orgasm she felt more pee go into her panties and felt them turn warm again. AS she came down from her high, Ashleigh could not believe what she had just done with her parents in the front seat. She had done this when alone in her own car and even with a friend who also had had a very messy and wet time in the car. She never would have believed that her own mother and father would tell her to use her panties instead of stopping at a restroom.

It was only another hour before they reached the hotel. Mr. P told Ashleigh to stay in the van until they had checked in. Then, with a jacket tied around her, they entered through the side door nearest the rooms. Ashleigh had to go up two floors of stairs because she did not want to go through the lobby to the elevators. She felt the sticky panties cling to her rear. By sitting in the car the poo was flattened against Ashleigh’s rear so the panties did not hang down to be visible below her skirt but the skirt had gotten wet and messy so it would be quite obvious to anyone who happened to look her way. Luckily they did not meet anyone on the way to the rooms. Mr. P had left all the van windows open to air out and returned to the van with towels to clean the seats where both Ashleigh and Mrs. P had wet them, and where Ashleigh had left poop stains.

Ashleigh and Sabrina had a room connected to their parent’s room by a door. Mr. and Mrs. P took Sabrina into their room to get her ready to attend the wedding. Sabrina was also quite messy. She had worn a diaper and had not made any fuss the whole trip. Mrs. P had also peed her panties at some time during the trip but no one else knew. This is what she had alluded to when talking to Ashleigh earlier. After all, if she was telling her daughter to use her panties, she may as well do the same. Only Mr. P was clean and dry.

Ashleigh immediately went into the bathroom and locked the door, They had about a half hour to get ready to go. Before getting undressed, Ashleigh dropped her skirt to the floor. Then she held her rear and pushed a bit. She felt another smaller load start to push out and felt the panties tent out once again as the hot poo filled them for the second time. Standing in the shower, Ashleigh relaxed completely and as her rear was filling with the poo, the crotch of her panties turned darker with fresh pee. The yellow pee, turned brown by all the poop it was mingling with, ran down her legs into the bathtub. She wanted to rub herself to another orgasm but there was no time now. She pealed the panties off of her bum, letting them drop with a plop to the tub. Then she picked them up, leaned out of the shower to empty the poop into the toilet and put the panties back on. She turned on the shower with her messy panties still on. She let the hot water rinse out her panties as she held the waistband out to catch the water. She turned around to do the same with the rear of the panties, enjoying the feeling of the water filling them before running out the bottom. Then she dropped the panties into the bathtub and continued to wash her rear, getting all of the poop off.

Ashleigh reached down to pick up the panties. They were totally stained with brown. Ashleigh needed to get moving because her dad was calling from their room. She filled the tub with water. Used a mini container of shampoo to soap up the panties and left them in the water to soak. Then, all fresh and clean, she joined her family to head to the wedding in plenty of time. She would no longer try to hide her stained undergarments from her mom. After all, she had been told to use her panties. She was looking forward to her new freedom to indulge herself at home.

A Karmic Accident by Seuler©

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was washing my hands when the door to the ladies' room burst open and a woman in her late teens or early twenties entered. She did not wait for the door to close behind her before hiking up her denim miniskirt, exposing white cotton, rose-print panties with pale pink elastic. She ran for the nearest cubicle, her shoes clicking on the tiles, the clicking echoing off the walls. She elbowed open the door, pushing it so far back on its hinges that it banged against the wall of the cubicle. In her haste she did not bother to close the door behind her, allowing me to see her in the mirror above the washbasin. With one shaking hand she lifted the toilet lid; with the other she held her skirt up.

"Yes!" she said. "Made it!" But just as she slid her thumbs under the waistband of her panties to pull them down, there was an abrupt squelch and the crotch of her panties sagged. She froze. A yellow-brown stain began to appear on the seat of her panties. The fishy smell of diarrhoea filled the room.

Turning off the tap, I yanked a few paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and began drying my hands, still watching her in the mirror.

A frustrated growl rose in her throat, drowning out the soft music playing over the PA. "Aaw no!" She kicked the wall.

Ditching the used paper towels, I picked up my handbag from the bench and slung the strap over my shoulder.

"It's not fair! I just about made it! I was so close!"

I entered the cubicle and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You need to calm down, sweetie." She gave a start and turned to face me. "It was just an accident."

"Who are you? What are you doing in here? What do you want?"

"My name is Jenny. And it looks to me like you need help."

For an instant I thought she was going to yell at me and tell me to go away and leave her alone, but instead she said, in a voice choked with rising emotion, "I'm Jodie. I just totally shit my pants." And she began sob.

I let her lean her head on my shoulder. She was still holding her skirt up, presumably to keep it from getting soiled. I stroked her shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair. "It's going to be okay. It happens to everyone at some point. I've pooped myself several times as an adult."

She looked up into my face with utter disbelief.

I giggled. "Hard to believe, I know, but it's true."

She buried her head in my shoulder again. The sobbing soon eased off, however, and I let her pull away.

"What am I going to do?" Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. "How do I get cleaned up?"

I looked her up and down. There was light soiling down the inside of her shapely upper thighs and a few drops of poop on the floor.

"Let's go to the handicapped stall. There's more room in there. And there will probably be a sink in there as well. Follow me. It's just down the end here." I held the door open for her. "In you go." I locked the door behind us. "We'll have you cleaned up in no time."

She looked at me eagerly, as if awaiting instructions.

"What size are you?"

"Sorry?"

"Panties."

"Oh, I don't know off the top of my head."

"Turn around." I slipped my thumb and forefinger under the waistband of her panties and pulled the label up so that I could read it. "Size fourteen. Same as me. Today is your lucky day. Because I just happen to have these." Unzipping my handbag, I produced a pair of pale blue cotton panties.

Her face lit up.

"I always carry a spare pair with me, just in case. I've had a few bad experiences in the past, as I mentioned earlier."

I slung the panties over the handicapped rail. She kicked off her shoes. I helped her get her skirt off without soiling it and slung that over the rail too. Removing her panties was more difficult. The poop was so runny I feared that it would get all over the floor.

"Cup your hands, Jodie." I tore off several sheets of toilet paper and laid them over her hands to form a protective layer. "Now put them under your crotch. I'll pull down from the waistband, and you hold the gusset so the poo doesn't fall out."

She did as instructed. My plan worked. No poo leaked onto the floor, though soiling did spread further down her thighs. She stepped out of her panties.

I lifted the toilet lid (and the seat too; I didn't want to get any poop on the seat). She emptied the contents of her panties into the bowl, and I flushed. She disposed of her panties in the tampon bin, ignoring the sign on the lid:

THIS BIN IS FOR SANITARY PRODUCTS ONLY NOTHING ELSE IS TO BE PLACED IN THIS BIN

"Thank you for doing this, by the way — helping me." She had a bunch of toilet paper scrunched up in her hand and was wiping the inside of her thighs. "I really appreciate it. I'd be lost without you."

"It's no problem. I just wish I'd had someone to help me the few times when I've had accidents. Perhaps now that I've helped you, next time I have an accident, someone might help me. Karma, you know. What goes around comes around."

"I hope so. You deserve it."

She wiped her vagina as best she could, but a considerable amount of faecal matter remained stuck in her pubic hair. She then turned her efforts to her buttocks. She wiped and wiped, went through sheet after sheet of toilet paper, got poop all over her fingers. Finally, she huffed. "I can't even see what I'm doing. This is going to take forever."

"Here. Let me help you."

"What? Let you help me what? Wipe?"

"Of course. You can't see what you're doing, and I'm here, so...."

"Ah, no, I couldn't possibly let you―"

"I insist." I pulled off some toilet paper. "Come on."

"Well... okay. Thanks."

As I wiped, gas built up in my gut. Since the air was already thick with the stench of Jodie's poop, I figured she wouldn't notice if I farted, so I did. But it came out louder than I had anticipated, echoing off the walls.

"Ooh excuse me!"

Jodie didn't say anything, didn't even turn round, just continued to stand, bent over, hands clutching the toilet seat. I kept wiping till she complained the paper was beginning to abrade. By this stage I also had poop all over my fingers.

"There's a trick I learnt from my previous accidents." I pulled off a fresh sheet of toilet paper, took it over to the washbasin, and ran it under the tap. "Wetting the paper makes it softer. And helps remove any stubborn poop stains." I resumed wiping. "Is that better?"

She nodded.

Moments later I farted again. "Oh dear me!" Throwing a clump of wet brown toilet paper into the toilet, I said, "There. Done. All nice and clean now."

"Thanks." She sniffed the air. "Paaw! That stinks, Jenny!"

"Yeah, sorry."

She laughed.

"You might want to try the wet-toilet-paper trick around front," I said, "to get the poop out of your pubes."

"Good idea." She ran some toilet paper under the tap.

"Leave it on, could you, please? I need to wash my hands."

"Oh, they're filthy. That's my mess. Sorry about that."

"Don't mention it."

"You know, I'll probably be all right now, if you've got other things to do. I feel a lot better now, and I'm just about all cleaned up."

"Well, I do need to get on with my shopping." I turned off the tap and went to pluck a paper towel from the dispenser only to find it empty. I wiped my hands on my skirt.

"Thank you so much for helping me. God knows how I would've managed this alone."

"No problem. I'll get going, then."

"It's been nice meeting you, Jenny. You've really restored my faith in humanity. Thanks for the panties, too."

"That's quite all right. It's been nice meeting you as well, and I hope it's a very long time before this happens to you again."

"I hope it never happens again."

"Oh, it will. But you'll know how to deal with it next time." I unlocked the cubicle door. "I'm off, then."

"Bye."

On my way out of the ladies' I passed the first stall she had gone to and saw the poop on the floor. I had forgotten all about it. I called out to her to remember to clean it up. She said she would.

Exiting the ladies', I took the corridor leading back to the shopping centre. I felt the need to fart again and pushed.

No sound. But wetness bloomed between my butt cheeks. I stopped dead. Clenching my buttocks, I pinched off the gassy, liquid stool.

In denial I put a hand up my skirt and touched the crotch of my panties, hoping to find them dry. They had to be dry. I couldn't have pooped my panties just after giving away my reserve pair. Not even I could have such bad luck.

When my fingers touched fabric, however, they detected dampness. Yet I refused to believe the signals the nerves in my fingertips were relaying to my brain. I couldn't have had an accident. It was impossible.

With mounting apprehension I withdrew my hand from under my skirt and raised it to eye level. Were they brown stains on my fingers? I rubbed them together. Sticky. I sniffed them. Stinky.

"Nooo." It came out as a polysyllabic whimper, though I had intended it to come out as a scream.

I ran back to the ladies' and pounded on the door of the handicapped stall. "Jodie? Jodie, are you still in there?"

"Yeah. Is something wrong?"

"Listen, I hate to do this to you, but I need those panties back. I've had an accident."

Laughter erupted on the other side of the door.

"What are you laughing at, you ungrateful bitch?"

The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Look, I'm sorry I got angry, but I'm being serious. I've pooed my pants and I need those knickers back. Could you please pass them to me under the door?"

"I don't know. Can't you just go commando?"

"No, I can't go commando. I'm having my period, and it's really heavy at the moment."

"Aren't you wearing a tampon?"

"Well, yes, of course I'm wearing a tampon, but I'll have to throw it away because it'll be all shitty now, and I only have a pad in my handbag."

"Couldn't you just buy a new pair?"

"I could ask you the same question, Jodie. And besides, I'm having my period. How do you suggest I go shopping for panties? Should I leave here with blood dripping down my legs? Or should I walk around with one hand holding a pad to my crotch? Can you imagine me walking into a store like that and saying, 'Excuse me, what aisle are panties in'?"

"You don't understand. I can't leave here without panties. If my boyfriend finds out.... Let me explain something. My boyfriend once found out I cheated on him when he caught me without panties after I lost them having sex in a toilet stall. He's been suspicious of me ever since. You don't know what he's like — how he gets — when he's mad. If he thinks I'm cheating on him again, he'll kill me."

"Well, then, you'd better buy some new underwear."

"I can't. He doesn't let me carry any money. I'd have to ask him for the money, and then he would want to know what it was for. And then―"

"Okay; I get the picture. But that's not really my problem. I need those panties more than you, and I'm not leaving here without them. So again, if you could just pass them under the door, please."

"No."

I heard the swishing of fabric. It sounded as if she was hurriedly getting dressed.

"No? I'm sorry, Jodie, that's the wrong answer." Getting on my belly, I crawled under the stall door.

Now fully dressed, Jodie was slipping into her shoes. "What are you doing in here, you crazy bitch? Get out!"

From my position on the floor, I could see up her skirt, see the crotch of the pale blue cotton panties I had given her. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, crawled over to her, and reached up her skirt for the panties; but she jumped up onto the toilet seat, leapt over me, and ran to the door. Panicked, she pushed and pulled on the door, but it wouldn't open. She didn't think to unlock it. This allowed me time to get to my feet, wrap my arms round her torso, and throw her to the ground. The strain caused another leak of gassy, liquid stool into my panties. Whimpering, she rolled onto her belly and crawled under the partition into the neighbouring stall. I unlocked the door and, running parallel to the stalls, cut her off just as she emerged from under the partition of the stall she had first entered, the one with the poop on the floor. Sobbing silently, she got to her feet. Shit was smeared down the front her top, her skirt, her legs.

"Get out of my way!" she screamed, lunging forwards.

I stepped aside, hands in the air as if surrendering. "Oh, don't touch me!"

Once she had passed, I came up behind her and, reaching up her skirt, grabbed her — my — panties and yanked down.

Jodie stumbled. The panties came away in my hands. She spun round, her jaw hanging loose.

The panties had torn along the hip seams.

"Look what you've done!" I said, pushing the torn edges together then pulling them apart, pushing them together then pulling them apart, as if I could will them to rejoin.

"Great! Now how am I going to face my boyfriend? Well, if I have to leave here without panties, so do you."

Absorbed in the torn panties, I didn't notice Jodie approach, didn't sense her reach up my skirt; but I did feel the tug on my panties, did hear them tear. They plopped to the floor. Poop splattered onto my shoes.

Jodie fled.

"Come back here, you bitch! You can't just leave me here like this! Not after I helped you!"

But it was no use. The woman had no conscience.

What do I do now?

Don't panic, Jenny; think! What is the first thing you must do?

Get these filthy panties off the floor.

Good. And then?

Head to the handicapped stall to get cleaned up.

Excellent! You'll get through this.

Using the panties I had taken from Jodie as a glove, I picked up the pair on the floor and, carrying them at arm's length, my nose wrinkled, disposed of both pairs of ruined panties in the handicapped stall's tampon bin. It was then that I had an epiphany.

Jodie's panties! You could use Jodie's panties! They're dirty, yes, but still intact. All they need is a wash.

Fishing them out, I rinsed them in the sink, then rung them dry. I draped them over the handicapped rail. Squatting on the toilet, I finished pooping and then cleaned myself up with wet toilet paper. I donned Jodie's panties. Though still damp, they nicely supported my fresh pad. And I left the ladies' room ― with poop still on the floor ― confident to face the world. Whereas Jodie, I like to think, got slapped around by her boyfriend for cheating again. Bitch!

Written by: Seuler

An Unexpected Fantasy byuranium©

 

This was amazingly fun to write, so look forward to more pieces like this in the future. Feedback and comments are SUPER appreciated! Let me know what you'd like to see, I'm always looking for new ideas.

*********

It was nine in the morning and cold and raining outside; the perfect morning for staying in bed. Staying in bed is even more fun, though, when you're waking up next to your hot wife. My hot wife, specifically. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over to face her. The movement woke her up, though she just buried her face in her pillow.

"Hey," I said, nudging at her with my knee, "good morning."

"Good morning," she mumbled back. Alyssa batted her pretty eyes and smiled as if she already knew what I was thinking. I couldn't help but grin and inch closer to her. "Perfect day for just sleeping in, huh?" Alyssa asked.

"Mmhmm," I agreed, resting one hand on her hip beneath the covers. She closed her eyes and settled back against the pillows again.

"Wake me up at ten," she laughed.

"Woah woah woah," I replied, pulling her closer, "come here, sleeping beauty."

"No!" she objected, burying her face in the blankets. I laughed along with her and squeezed her ass playfully. My stomach churned without warning, and I got a terrible idea.

"If you don't get out of there," I warned, "I'm going to Dutch-oven you." Alyssa laughed harder—I don't know if she was calling my bluff or what. With a grin, I sidled up as close to her as I could and pushed, forcing out a loud, muffled fart.

"Oh my god!" Alyssa cracked up, pushing the blankets away from her face. "That's awful!"

"Yeah, well, I warned you," I groped at her ass and pulled her against me, effectively grinding her against my morning wood. She bit her lip and smiled.

"You know how to be romantic," she teased. My stomach growled and I pushed again, this one equally as loud and bubbling as the first. Alyssa kissed me. I loved her sense of humor, just as she loved mine. This was common routine for us, especially for a lazy Saturday morning when neither of us had to work.

Aly slipped her hands around behind me and squeezed at my ass the same way I had done to hers. My stomach was still churning, and I mentally went over what I had eaten the day before that would cause me to have such bad gas.

"Might want to move your hand," I warned her. She smirked and moved her hand even lower.

"We'll see about that," she said. "Bet you won't do it." I shrugged and pushed out two short farts, one after the other. Aly just laughed her beautiful laugh and shook her head.

"I shouldn't have doubted you," she admitted. I nodded in agreement, but before I could say anything else, Alyssa slipped one of her legs up over mine, pulling my knee between her thighs. I raised my eyebrows as she lightly pressed her crotch against my leg. I pushed back, enjoying the way she ground against me for friction. She was wearing nothing but underwear and a t-shirt, and I could feel the warmth of her core through the thin cotton of her panties.

"You okay there?" I asked. She leaned forward and kissed me, gripping my knee tighter with her thighs. My stomach gurgled ominously as we kissed, and I was beginning to wonder if it was actually just gas. I decided to test her limit, and as she kissed me, I lifted my ass slightly and pushed hard. A loud, wet-sounding fart slipped out. To my surprise, rather than pulling away, Aly's muscles tensed against my leg and she pressed harder, desperately attempting to get more friction.

I pulled my knee back a bit and slipped my hand between her legs to tug her panties aside, intending to toy with her and finger her a bit. I stopped when my fingers brushed against her panties and found that her thighs were wet and her panties were soaked through. She saw the surprise on my face and grinned.

"What?" she asked.

"You're fucking wet, baby!" I laughed in response.

"What can I say? You know how to get a girl going." Get a girl going? I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and laugh. We'd been awake for three minutes and all I had done was fart, grab her butt, and let her grind on me.

I pulled her panties aside and rubbed my fingers against her; everything was slick and soaking wet already. Almost instinctively, I rubbed her clit with my thumb and pushed two fingers into her tight pussy. No matter how wet she got or how much we fucked, she was always the tightest of any woman I'd ever known. Aly moaned softly and closed her eyes as I slowly worked my fingers in and out of her. My cock was fully erect and practically begging to be played with, but I was content having my morning fun with Alyssa first.

I frowned slightly as my stomach growled again, feeling the pressure building. I shifted my weight; though we had been having fun before, I didn't want to ruin this moment. Without warning, Aly slid her hand down the back of my sleep pants and briefs, causing me to jump.

"Woah, woah!" I protested. She laughed and bit her lip.

"Bet you won't do it now," she challenged as a reference to earlier. I made a face at her, unsure of what to do. I continued working my fingers in her pussy, her hips subtly gyrating against my hand. Her right hand was pressed firmly against my ass, waiting to see if I'd do it or not.

"You asked for it," I taunted. I lifted my ass slightly and farted loud and hard. With a smile on her face, Aly pressed two fingers against my asshole and kissed me. I wanted to protest—I honestly did—but with the combined pleasure of her grinding against my hand and making out with me and touching me, it felt...surprisingly good.

I'd never let a woman touch me like that before and never, ever intended to, but there was something about it that just felt good in the dirtiest way imaginable. I didn't stop her. She wasn't trying to stick them in or anything, she was just rubbing my asshole with her middle and index finger in hard circles. I pumped my fingers into her harder and she had to pull away from the kiss to moan.

"Fuck, baby," she murmured as I worked her faster. Her thighs were shaking and I was wondering if she was going to come to her first orgasm so easily and so quickly. However, my stomach loudly bubbled again, causing her eyes to flutter open.

"Move your hand," I told her. Aly just smirked and stroked at my asshole with her middle finger.

"You give up?" she teased.

"Give up? I wasn't aware it was a contest."

"Unlike you to just give in," she said with a shrug. I shook my head at how crazy she could be, but pushed again nonetheless. I farted then and there with her fingers pressed between my cheeks. It was unusually hot and quiet, and I was starting to get concerned that I was going to have to get out of bed and head for the bathroom in a couple of minutes. Alyssa had other plans.

"Fuck!" she mewled with delight (though I wasn't quite sure what she was getting out of this). She pulled her hand away and reached around front, working my cock out of my sleep pants. Neither of us said anything as she pulled my erection out and stroked at it. She moved one of her legs up over my thigh and pulled herself against my body, lining my cock up against her soaking entrance. Her lips found mine and she pulled me into a kiss as my cock slid inside of her. Alyssa threw her head back and moaned, and I couldn't help but growl at the feeling of her tight pussy adjusting to my size.

"God that's good," she murmured. Aly reached behind me as I lazily pumped in and out of her and slipped her hand lower again. I didn't object when she began rubbing her fingers against my asshole, each thrust of my hips pressing back against her hand. She circled her finger around it, then lightly prodded at the entrance without forcing anything. I worked my cock the whole way into her in one hard thrust, and she bit her lip before massaging harder at my asshole.

"Babe," she started, "any chance you have to go?"

"Go?"

"Like...to the bathroom?" There was something playful, borderline deviant, in her eyes, however, that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"I'm not getting up," I replied, burying my face against her neck. I was, however, beginning to feel the pressure in my stomach that let me know I was going to have to head to the bathroom eventually. Her pussy was so tight and wet—unbelievably wet—that nothing in the world could make me get up. Not even when my stomach growled again.

"Are you sure?" she rubbed a circle around the entrance. No, I wasn't sure. There was an unbelievable pressure building in my stomach within seconds, but I kept telling myself it was just gas. In an attempt to distract myself from the feeling in my guy, I mirrored her motion and slipped my hand down the back of her panties. She grinned when I began lazily brushing my fingers between her cheeks. We'd never done anal, but I was beginning to think she was into it. My fingers found her hole, and I found myself curious. I farted again as I played with her, prodding my finger at her tight entrance.

"Are you into this?" she asked as she pressed her finger harder against my asshole. She worked the tip of her finger in, massaging around my entrance.

"Are you?" I asked. I did the same thing to her that she was doing to me. I pulled her flush against me and kissed her, keeping my cock inside of her while we explored each other's bodies a little bit. Alyssa moaned softly as I worked more of my finger in. I was going to go the whole way, but she stopped me.

"That's good for now," she laughed.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Uh huh. It's uh...it feels good, but it's making me have to go to the bathroom. It's because it's the morning," she laughed it off. As she began to pull her hand away from my backside, terror swept over me. I had been so surprised that it felt good that I had forgot about the fact that I did currently have to go to the restroom—admittedly, I had to shit.

"Aly," I stopped her from pulling her arm back, "we've never done anything like that before."

"Right?"

"What if you have shit on your hands or something..?"

"Even better," she said with a wink. I laughed; her sense of humor always got me. She pulled me into a kiss again and I resumed fucking her at our normal speed.

The pressure was becoming unbearable, however, and, in a vain attempt to relieve the feeling, I pushed hard, forcing out a loud, foul fart. Something felt wrong. As I thrust my cock in and out of her, I was acutely aware that there was something wet between my asscheeks. I slowed my movements ever so slightly and concentrated on the feeling, but another wave of pressure hit my stomach full force. This time, the fart that followed was involuntary. A look of panic washed over my face. The smell was horrible, and something now felt soft and hot pressed against my asshole. Then, all at once, I was aware I was shitting my pants.

"Fuck!" I snapped, clenching my cheeks to the best of my ability. It was useless, however, as my asshole flexed and pushed out the rest of a small, soft log of shit. I tried to sit up, but Aly's legs were locked around mine.

"What's wrong?" Alyssa asked, propping herself up on her elbow. I didn't know how to respond.

"I just shit myself," I answered honestly. Aly's eyes unexpectedly lit up.

"You what?"

The last thing I expected was for Aly to reach around behind me and touch my ass, eager to feel the mess I'd made. Before I could think to pull away, my wife was brushing her fingers against the soft mess.

"Oh my god," she breathed, "you did!"

"Stop touching it," I said. Unfortunately for me, I was losing the battle against my body and a second, thicker turd pressed against my asshole Aly rocked her hips hard against mine, sliding my cock the whole way into her soaked pussy. She massaged at the load of shit, causing it to rub against my skin.

"Fucckk," she moaned, now moving her hips so that she was steadily fucking me. I had absolutely no idea what to say or do.

"Aly, stop, I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Do you have to go more?"

"Yeah."

"Do it," she breathed, and I felt her walls tighten around my erection with excitement. "Go right here."

"No!"

"Why not? You already did," she said, and squeezed at the small mess harder this time. My stomach churned and, without thinking about it, I let a fart slip.

"This is terrible," I said, "but...I don't want to get up from fucking you right now, not with how soaked you are. Can I clean up in a minute?"

"You don't have to get up at all. Fuck me and just use your pants!" Aly urged. I bit my lip and went back to fucking her, hard, trying not to think about it. Alyssa squealed with delight and threw her head back, but didn't remove her hand from the seat of my pants.

"I'm not going to shit in my pants, in the bed," I told her, but to be honest, the thought made my cock twitch. There was something dirty about it that made it erotic in a kinky way. My muscles tensed as I struggled against the piece that was threatening to come out, pressing against my asshole and tempting me to just say 'fuck it' and let it go. Aly was moaning and grinding against me and soaking wet; something deep and primal within me wanted to fill my pants right then and there. Alyssa squeezed at my back side again, pressing the turd between my asscheeks and letting me feel the sticky, thick feeling.

As I fucked her, I felt my asshole stretching as a huge turd began to force its way out. "Aly," I panted, desperate and almost pleading, "I can't hold it."

"Do you really want to get up?" she asked, then genuinely slowed her movement. She was letting me get up. I pushed myself up with one arm as she untangled her legs from mine. My stomach cramped and I hissed at the feeling. It was too late; I had already lost control.

"No," I answered, then shamelessly, gracelessly blurted out, "I couldn't make it, I'm going in my pants." Aly dug her nails into my biceps and rocked her hips back and forth on mine, one leg back over mine, her pussy absolutely dripping with her slick, hot juices. She practically whimpered. Even over the wet sound of sex and our moans I could hear the crackling as it came out hot, solid, and almost painfully thick.

"Shit," I hissed. It stopped halfway out, however, so I took the opportunity to finally say 'fuck it.' With a moan, I bore down, cock the whole way inside of Aly, and shit my pants.

"Oh my god!" Alyssa moaned desperately, feeling the growing bulge load my pants. "Oh my god, fuck that's hot!" she said as she wildly ground her hips on mine. I grunted, and with one last push, the piece broke off. The combined pleasure of knowing what I had just done and of the shit itself was disgusting in the most incredible way. I tangled one hand in Aly's hair and kissed her roughly, causing her to clench her hand around the mess in my pants and let out a muffled cry against my mouth.

"Fuck, you're right Aly, it's fucking hot," I moaned against her lips. I moved so that I was fully on top of her, slamming into her over and over, all the while still kissing her. Aly pulled away for a moment.

"So you like it?" she panted, massaging at the solid mass in my briefs.

"It's dirty," I answered truthfully, still pounding into her, "but I fuckin' love it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it feels good."

"What if I did it, too?"

I slowed my thrusts for a moment and looked at her. Before, my reaction would have been no, but who was I to judge? I was in this situation because I couldn't make it to the bathroom and shit myself in the middle of sex. And then liked it. A lot. I ran one hand through my hair, imagining her on all fours, desperately trying not to go while I fucked her from behind. I loved it. I loved the thought of her wanting to cum so bad that she was trying to hold it just so I could fuck her a little longer, but losing the battle and 'having an accident.' Unable to hold it and losing control, accidentally pooping while I fucked her. Just the thought was enough to make me moan.

"Do you have to go?" I asked, suddenly finding myself hoping the answer was yes. Another fantasy of her getting fucked reverse cowgirl and having to go so bad that she couldn't help it and some slipped out ran through my mind. I audibly moaned again at that thought, imagining that after some accidentally came out she wouldn't be able to hold it and would, embarrassingly, take a massive dump right then and there while on top of me. Since when did I get off to this?

"I always have to go in the morning," she answered. I bit my lip and pushed the whole way into her.

"You gonna do it for me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"How bad do you have to go?" I shifted my weight to one side and rubbed at her clit, my hard-on throbbing inside of her. A smirk crossed her face as she realized what I was playing at.

"I have to go real bad."

"Well, I think you have to hold it for a little while," I told her. The playfulness disappeared from her face.

"I actually do really have to go," she replied. "I can just get up if—" I cut her off by slipping my hands underneath her and flipping her onto her stomach.

"Come on, all fours," I told her and squeezed her backside. With a laugh, Aly obeyed and moved into position. I took a moment to admire the view before I tugged her soaked panties—soft pink cotton—down her thighs. She sighed quietly at the feeling. Once more, I stopped to check her out, watching two of my fingers disappear into her creamy pussy. Alyssa moaned as I dragged my fingers from her hot entrance to her asshole, rubbing and toying at the tight little hole. She flinched, but arched her back nonetheless. Shifting onto my knees, I slipped two fingers back into her pussy and lapped at her asshole with my tongue.

"Fuck!" she cried out, clearly not expecting that. "Oh, fuck," Aly moaned as I prodded at her tight entrance with my tongue, swiping in circles. I smiled at the fact that being this close to her, I could hear her stomach churning, too. I flattened my tongue against her asshole and licked. The tight ring flexed as I worked on it.

"Hey, that feels really good," she began, sounding apprehensive, "but maybe, you know, don't do it right now."

"What? Why?" I felt the load in the seat of my pants shift as I moved back to look at her.

"You know why," she snarked back. Despite her tone, I could tell she legitimately had to go now. Her stomach suddenly churned and I could feel her muscles tense.

"Do you have to fart?"

She didn't answer.

"God, do it, Aly," I moaned, stroking one hand along her beautiful ass.

"No!" she laughed, looking away.

"Why not?"

"I'm not farting in front of you with my ass up in the air."

"Do it," I told her, and used my free hand to pump at my cock without thinking about it.

"No, I'm—" her words were cut short by her own fart. It was muffled, indicating that she did, indeed, have to shit very, very bad. I rubbed her asshole with my finger, tempted to slide it in. I used my other hand to stroke her clit in hopes of coaxing her to do it again. Sure enough, she couldn't fight it and let out another short fart, but this time, her tight little ring flexed just enough to give a glimpse at the turd she was moments away from dropping. I slipped two fingers back into her pussy.

"Just wait until I'm done playing with you, okay?" I tested, wanting to see what her response would be.

"Come on," she complained, shaking her butt a little, "you know how bad I have to go in the morning." I worked my fingers in and out of her pussy and watched her asshole stretch ever so slightly.

"Did you go yesterday morning?"

"No."

"Did you go at all yesterday?"

"...No."

"You really do have to go then, huh?"

"Yeah," she replied. I slammed my fingers the whole way into her, causing her to jump and whimper. Her asshole stretched again, revealing the tip of the first piece waiting to come out. "I don't want to mess up the blankets," she told me, looking around anxiously. I brushed my fingers against her g-spot and enjoyed watching her tight hole stretch again, threatening to lose control and push out the first log while her panties were still pulled down. I stroked her g-spot as I thrust my fingers in and out of her while she clenched her muscles and tried to hold it. She farted quietly, but this time she was dangerously close to losing control as the piece slipped out half an inch or so, and had to tighten her muscles hard to keep it in.

If you don't want to mess up the sheets, should we go in the bathroom?" I suggested. My cock was practically dripping at the sight of her bent over and losing control in front of me.

"Sounds good," Alyssa laughed back with relief. I tugged her panties back up over her firm ass, hiding everything from view. She was quick to climb to her knees and turn to face me, eager to get up. When I rose to my knees, however, she stopped me. Biting her lip, Aly peeled the waistband of both my sleeps pants and my briefs back and peered down at my, undoubtedly shit-smeared, ass.

"Oh my god," she half-laughed, half-moaned. She let the band snap back into place and backed off the bed.

"What?"

"That's huge! More than I ever imagined."

"You imagined this?"

"Yeah, a lot. Come on, please, I really, really, really have to go," she said and shifted from foot to foot. As I stood, I slipped one arm beneath Aly's backside and picked her up in my arms. "Oh shit," she gasped, and though she wrapped her legs around my torso, she clasped one hand over her ass. Aly attempted to hold on to my shoulders with one hand while keeping the other clasped over her butt, but her face was a bright, flustered pink. I kissed her neck as I blindly found my way to the bathroom.

"Shit," she whimpered as I lowered her down, letting her feet touch the floor. I couldn't help but notice that she didn't remove her hand from her backside. I sat down on the floor, feeling the mess in my pants flatten against me, and she followed suit, not taking her hand away. As she knelt down, she cursed under her breath and bit her lip.

"Reverse cowgirl," I told her, placing my hands on her thighs and turning her around. Once she had her back to me, I pulled her hand away.

"Sorry," she murmured sheepishly

"Aly," I breathed, "did you...?"

"I couldn't hold it!"

I pulled her panties back, the same way she had done to me, and looked down. Two small, solid lumps of shit were nestled against her asshole. I couldn't fucking believe it—she'd actually lost control while I was carrying her. I groaned and pulled the gusset of her panties aside, brushing my fingers through her wetness. I lined my cock up with her entrance and rubbed the head against it, but didn't put it in. Aly moaned at the feeling, her head leaned back and her thighs and hands trembling. I rocked my hips back and forth lightly, just to enjoy the feeling of my own shit spreading across my ass while dragging the head across her soaking entrance. I'd never imagined something so filthy could be so sexual. However, I wanted to toy with Aly a few moments longer, just to tease her.

"Okay, before you go, I want to fuck a little bit more," I told her, slipping the head inside.

"Baby I can't hold it, I'm going to go no matter what you're doing!"

I pulled her hips down, forcing her halfway down my shaft.

"Just wait a few more minutes," I told her, and slid the rest of my cock inside her. "Or are you going to go some more?" I reached around and rubbed her clit through her panties. "Are you going to accidentally poop just like this?"

I felt Alyssa's walls tighten with excitement at my words. "I'm not going to be able to make it," she groaned. "I have to go."

"You have to what?" I rubbed her clit slow, but hard.

"I have to shit."

"What was that? I didn't quite catch—"

"I have to go right now so bad, if you don't let me move, I'm going to go all over you," Aly moaned as I played with her clit. She tried to press her hand over her ass again, adjusting her panties so that she could cover her tight hole without mushing up what had already slipped out.

"You already had an accident, are you really going to take a huge dump right in your panties?" Aly's muscles jerked and she desperately tried to contain the impending mess.

"Fuck, I'm doing it now...Fuck...I can't stop it."

"What are you doing, baby?" There was a soft crackling as she lost control and completely pooped her panties.

"I'm going—it's coming out," she moaned.

"Yeah?" I held myself still so I could watch and adjusted her panties back so that they were covering her entirely. The soft, pink cotton began to tent out as a huge turd forced its way out of her. I groaned in absolute ecstasy as I watched the dark patch form, stretching out against the back. Without warning, I felt a hot, warm sensation on my cock and got distracted. A light stream ran down my cock and dripped onto my balls.

"Aly, are you...are you wetting yourself?"

"I'm sorry," she was quick to apologize, "I'm trying to hold it." She pressed her hand to her front, trying to stop it. I was genuinely surprised. I had been so caught up in a new fantasy that I hadn't considered she might have to pee, as well. However, this didn't seem like foreplay or anything sexy—she was legitimately peeing herself unintentionally. She actually couldn't hold it from the pressure of her shit being forced out.

"Let go, baby," I told her. "The floor is tile. If you can't hold it, it's okay. If you have to pee, you can wet yourself."

"No, that's too much of a mess," she groaned, but the stream steadily picked up. She was completely soaking not only the front of her panties that halfway covered her, but my pants, as well. Despite the fact we were literally messing around with a shit fetish, there was something intimate and innocent about her peeing on me and herself in a genuine accident.

I looked back at her ass again, her panties tented out slightly, and reached around to pull her hand away from her. When I moved her hand, she groaned and let go; a gush of hot piss squirted out as she pushed again, forcing out the thick load. Alyssa had to lift her ass slightly to allow more of it to come out. As her panties expanded out further, I could see the long, dark turd through her sagging leg band. It came out fairly firm, but was soft enough to mush up with the pressure of being pressed against the fabric of her panties. I ground my ass against my own mess, and combined with the stimulation of my own shit, her pooping her panties, and the warm stream of pee from Aly, it was too much to bear.

"Hang on," I grunted. I lifted my ass and slipped my pants down to my thighs—I didn't care how much of a mess it made of the floor, I knew what I wanted. I grabbed Alyssa's ass with both hands and squeezed hard, spreading her cheeks apart. She gasped, but kept her ass lifted slightly. I used my left hand to pull her panties to the side, revealing her backside to me. The log had broken off, but left a few smears of dark shit around her hole.

"Babe!" she cried out, surprised. The thick turd spilled out of her panties and onto my lower abdomen, warm and sticky. I kept her panties pulled aside with one hand while the other was still grabbing at her ass, keeping her half spread. She clamped one hand over her tight hole (despite the slight mess) and tried to keep her balance.

"I'm not done!" she protested. "I still have to go!" I noticed she pressed a little harder, her thighs tense.

"It's okay," I told her, "you already let a bunch out. You can hold it now." I smirked at her, and she simultaneously looked at a loss for words while also looking worried. I bucked up into her again and she gasped. I slowly began to bounce her up and down on my cock, amazed by how extremely wet she was. As I fucked her, keeping her ass spread, I had the perfect view as another piece 'turtle-headed' out. She tightened her muscles and fought against it.

"Fuck, fuck, that's good but I have to go really bad."

I slammed my full length into her and then pulled the whole way out before slamming back in, then went back to bouncing her. The pleasure was too much, and the piece protruded again. She reached back to try and cover herself up, but I couldn't take the cat-and-mouse game anymore. I was done teasing both her and myself.

"Shit on me, Aly," I groaned, picking up speed.

"Just like this?"

"Just like this."

"I don't know...convince me," she panted, trying to keep her voice steady with each thrust.

"I don't think you're in a position to bargain, baby," I snorted, "you're about to lose control so bad."

"That's not very convincing," she said, but as she spoke, her tight, dirty hole stretched again as the turd began to inch out. One more time, she fought to keep it in. "Oh fuck I have to go..."

"Do it, baby. You know you can't hold it any more. I did it, too. I farted and couldn't even make it to the bathroom on time. Now you just accidentally took a huge poop in your panties. You've already had an accident twice, so you might as well finish taking a dump right now."

Alyssa cried out in pleasure and ground her hips against mine hard. She leaned forward just a bit and rested one hand on my thigh, using the other to spread the side I wasn't holding—but just a little. And then and there, as I fucked her, she let go. I could barely control myself as she pushed out another thick rope, longer than the first, but firm. It fell onto my lower abdomen, just above my cock.

She mewled as she rocked her hips back and forth, surprising me with a loud fart. Another push resulted in another fart, then another. A light stream of piss dripped out of her and onto my cock since she was no longer inhibiting herself, taking the opportunity to relieve herself onto me fully. Aly lifted her ass slightly, intentionally allowing me a better view. She barely had to push as a small turd fell onto my lap, quickly followed by two more logs that poured out of her with ease. Another log squeezed out and joined the pile of shit as she emptied herself on top of me.

"Oh, fuck, baby," I groaned. She still didn't seem done, but I was getting dangerously close to cumming. I bucked at her wildly as she lowered herself again, allowing me to force my cock the whole way into her and smearing the pile against her backside. She forced out a wet, sputtering fart as I rubbed my cock against her. Aly steadied herself, then, to my surprise, grunted and bore down. I slowed my thrusts to watch as she released a torrent of soft, semisolid shit in a pile on my lap with a wet, mushy, crackling. It was hot and sticky and soft, and the feeling was incredible. She farted one more time and pushed out one last squirt of soft shit before moaning with pleasure and relief.

"That feels so much better," she panted, digging her nails into my thighs. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold it any more, I hadn't gone in two days. I didn't mean to make a mess on you or in my panties," she feigned innocence.

"Alyssa, this is so fucking hot" I moaned, unable to think of anything smart to say back to her.

"Make me cum, baby. Please," she was practically begging. "I'm so close already. I've wanted this for a long time." That was all she needed to say. I sat up and pulled her back with me, resting my back against our bath tub. The position smeared Alyssa's mess over my lower stomach and against her ass, but we both moaned in unison at the hot, dirty feeling. I fucked her fast as hard, working her clit with one hand and gripping her hips with the other.

"Oh fuck!" she squealed, her pussy tightening around my pulsating erection. "Just like that, fuck! I'm cumming, fuck! I'm cumming, don't stop, please don't stop."

"Come on dirty girl, squirt for me so I can fill you up with my cum. We're both so fucking horny and filthy, squirt for me." My voice and hands and thighs were all shaking, seconds away from cumming. In one final, animalistic cry, Alyssa came and squirted hard, throwing her head back and grinding herself the whole way down on my cock. The world went white as I released my load inside of her. It took several seconds to come down from the high, to make sense of anything. I'd never cum that hard or that much in my life, having filled her with pump after pump of my cum. Aly was leaned forward, resting her hands on my knees, hanging her head in an attempt to catch her breath.

"Aly, how long have you wanted to do that?" I asked with a laugh, panting.

"Since we've met."

"You've always wanted it?"

"Yeah, since I was a teenager," Aly said, pulling herself off of my softening cock and turning around to face me. We were both still out of breath, flushed, and shaking. With the heat of the moment over, we were looking at my sleep pants—completely caked with shit—and her mess all over me, wondering how the hell we were going to clean up.

"You should've told me sooner, y'know. We could have been fucking like this all along."

"You would have thought I was crazy!" she laughed, straddling my lap and kissing me.

"I already think you're crazy," I teased. I kissed her jaw and she sighed, tired and happy. "You're crazy, but I love you."

"I love you too, but I think we're both crazy thinking we can possibly clean this mess up."

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The Pooping Team Ch. 01 byclazzjoud©

Samantha Ellis expected a strong turnout, but she didn't expect the line to be going outside the door and stretching around the block - 30 minutes before tryouts even started. She was grumbling about the wait, but her friend and companion Lindsey offered a good perspective: the longer they waited, the more time they'd have to get ready.

She had everything she needed, but she was still checking to make sure her ID was valid, even though it wouldn't expire for another two years. Lindsey's support seemed to stop at listening to her rehearse her pitch.

"Here's your pitch," Lindsey said, with her palms clasped together, "My name is Samantha Ellis. If you feel the need to point to your face, do so, but I doubt you'll need to."

"Come on, Lindsey," Samantha said, looking at herself in the mini-mirror she kept in her purse. "I can't be presumptuous. I want to show that I actually have something to offer."

"I get that," Lindsey said. "Just remember, most of your talking won't be with your mouth."

Samantha had done everything she needed for preparation, and she and Lindsey had done their demonstrations for each other so many times that even if their auditions were only half as good as their rehearsals, they had a good chance at getting in. However, a good chance was not a certainty. Only 3 percent of people who applied for Madame Calvert's got accepted. However, girls still came out in droves, hoping to be the next star.

No one knew what their audition would consist of until it happened. Samantha had read an interview with an anonymous judge once. It said that no one could know anything about the auditions before theirs, and that no one is a sure thing until everyone has gone. On average, it took four weeks to receive a response.

There was an aura of confidence coming from the rest of the line. She didn't know if they were delusional or if they knew something she didn't. This was as confident as she'd feel, and she was still pretty uncertain.

A commotion was happening far back. She couldn't make out what was happening, but company officials seemed to be involved. It quieted down a bit when a corridor was put in place, but it wasn't silent.

"What's that about?" Samantha asked. Lindsey shrugged.

"Capacity," the woman behind her, with the sunflower dress and curly black hair said. "Looks like we're in the 1,000."

"1,000? I didn't know about that," Samantha said.

"Yeah, they don't tell you," she said, "It's supposed to get us more primed, knowing that we wanted it more. I got turned away last year. I was 1,001, I swear."

"Did they tell you what happened?" Lindsey asked.

"Fuck no," she said. "But I knew next year I'd be first in line.

Samantha looked at the line extending in front of them.

"Of course, any place between 1 and 1,000 would be acceptable."

An official came by with a jar, prompting Samantha to reach in and pull out a small disc.

"139," Samantha recited as if she had never seen the number before.

"Lucky, I got 177," Lindsey said. "I guess it's a random order."

The official informed that that they selected their group number. There were five people in each group, who all went up at the same time, in different rooms. The woman next to them said it was something she had never heard of them doing before.

"God, this sucks," Lindsey whined. "They'll probably all want to go home and not consider me at this point."

"Come on, it's not that bad," Samantha said.

"Easy for you to say, Miss 139," Lindsey icily retorted.

Soon after, all the numbers had been chosen and groups began being called. Samantha and Lindsey had made it to one of the waiting shelters right before the rain started falling. Samantha felt like showing this much patience was enough of a sign that she deserved a spot.

After seven-and-a-half hours of waiting, she heard the word "one-hundred and thirty-nine" and felt exhaustion turn into alertness. She gestured Lindsey to get up and come with her before realizing her mistake.

Following the official, she entered a room, about half the dimensions of her bedroom, with wood flooring and an eggshell white paint job. A woman entered shortly after the official left.

"Hello, I understand you wish to audition for Madame Calvert's," the woman said, seeming to make a point of not looking at Samantha.

"Yes," Samantha said resolutely.

"And may I ask what you would bring to our business?" she asked, but her questions felt as sharp as her freshly-painted nails.

"I would be a team player, and I'd never give up," Samantha replied.

"That is what we'd hope for from all our girls," she said. "It's what we hear from all of them, and the ones who don't make it. Now, please, tell me, what makes you a suitable choice for our company Miss...Ellis?"

The woman held the folder firmly in both hands and looked at Samantha with astonishment.

"You don't mean to say, you're the daughter of Janice Ellis? My word, I don't need to tell you of your mother's achievements," she said with one hand on her cheek and another still grasping the folder.

"Adopted,"

"Beg pardon?"

"I'm her adopted daughter," Samantha said. "My sister, Kyra, is her birth daughter."

"I have no time for such semantics and other nonsense, Miss Ellis," the woman hastily replied. "Now, please present to me, a reverse half-step using the chair over there."

This was Samantha's big moment, and she knew she could do it, but how well was another question. A reverse half-step was a position she had practiced, but it had a lot of steps to keep track of. She knew she would be disqualified if she got enough one out of place, and she was sure she had been given it due to her namesake.

To begin, she unbuckled her belt and pulled her pants all the way off, including her panties. She heard one scratch of the pencil in the woman's hand, likely from checking one box positively. Next, she got her right foot planted firmly on her seat while her right leg stayed bent. Her left leg remained straight, with just enough tension to not need readjustment.

Next, Samantha put her hands in proper position, each pushing apart the corresponding cheek. As she had expected, a bit of a fart rippled out, but she wasn't losing her mojo. The first bit of poop started peeking out of her. She couldn't see it, but she could definitely smell it. This was a strong load, coming out as one sturdy log that dropped out of her asshole about a quarter of an inch at a time. It managed to all land on the platter.

Getting off the chair and looking at her poop, Samantha felt pretty good. The official brought over her toilet paper and Samantha wiped her dirty ass until it was clean, placing the used paper next to her dump as instructed. She was quickly thanked and instructed to leave.

The next day, Samantha and Lindsey were FaceTiming, both sitting on the toilet.

"I know I had the right form, but my poop looked so lame," Lindsey said. "I keep having these little nuggets." She tilted her phone to show Samantha the proof in her bowl.

"But they were pretty uniform, right? That should definitely help your case," Samantha said, trying to be encouraging.

Samantha felt reasonably confident at the time, but she only had a fleeting memory of her audition poop to go on, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she needed to second-guess herself. It didn't help that she was spending so much time looking at the work of her favorite poop models on Instagram. She had more than 15,000 followers and would regularly get several hundred likes on videos of her pushing out a load and pooping with Lindsey, but those with sponsorships and perfect bikini bodies spreading their tanned cheeks apart to poop on the beach or fill their diapers with huge lumps had her a little insecure.

There would also be occasional posts tagged #janiceellis, showing Samantha's late adopted mother, in her feed. Photos and videos showed her with her rich black hair draped over her shoulders and her pants down as she held her nose and smiled at the camera while a thick log came out. These were turds that earned Janice Ellis the title of "World's Best Pooper" and helped to make pooping pageants mainstream.

Samantha didn't know about any of this until she was leaving for college. While searching the attic for boxes, she came across a stack of magazines labeled "Miss Messy," many of which featured her mother on the front. She saw her mother pooping while smoking a cigarette, posing seductively next to her dumps, and answering questions about the naughtiest place she's ever gone.

Though she felt mortified and never brought it up to her mother, Samantha started to become fascinated by it, eventually discovering how many fans her mother had. She had passed away before Samantha got a chance to discuss things about it with her, and Samantha wanted to honor her.

Her sister, Kyra, had also known about their mother's poopy past, but she didn't much want to discuss it. However, when she learned of Samantha's ambitions to become a poop star herself, she starting showing support and sending her tips for having better loads.

Samantha had met Lindsey in college. During a round of truth or dare, Lindsey asked her what the craziest thing she had found out about a parent was. She was floored by the response, but only because she didn't know her friend was raised by a pooping legend. Samantha then dared LIndsey to poop in front of her. She was more than willing, and a new point in their friendship was reached.

She had hoped they would both get accepted by Madame Calvert's, but even one getting accepted would be hard, let alone both. Mostly, Samantha wanted there to be no bad blood between them whatever happened.

"I gotta hop off," Lindsey said, pointing her phone at her toilet again so Samantha could see her poop before she flushed it away. Samantha knew she and Lindsey were both strong poopers. But were they strong enough?

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byclazzjoud© 2 comments/ 7105 views/ 9 favorites