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Better the Second Time Around
This story is fictional. Events portrayed did not occur.
My name is Ethan. Nine months ago, I had left my home state and moved to Oregon, a suburb of Portland, to take a job with a small PC dealer, troubleshooting and repair shop. I walked the distance between home and the shop daily. Also within walking distance was a small but busy coffee shop I gave patronage to at least once a day.
After six months in the small hamlet outside Portland, the waitress who often served my coffee or other menu request had politely asked to get to know me better.
I accepted the invitation. We played a little twenty questions and each revealed chunks of our personality and shared our interests. The waitress’s name was Tasha. She was blonde, her hair a little shorter than the popular “bob” style, but still covering her head and kind of framing her facial features well; green eyes, a moderate nose and mouth, nice lips and an appealing smile.
Aside from those physical traits, many men would not have been drawn to Tasha; she stood five-foot-nine and was wide and heavy, with a hint of belly flab beyond the waistline. One of the things I had learned about her was that before coming to work at the coffee shop, she had worked in a ‘ladies for hire’ establishment in the area for six years. She had never been skinny, but had a little nicer figure then. She now worked as a by-appointment or request mistress besides her work at the coffee shop.
I could attest that she was still good at her former line of work; she had professed an interest in me as I became a regular and frequented her shop. We had discussed some of her mistress-oriented history and discovered at least some degree of common interest in bathroom intimacy, including golden showers and toilet play; facesitting; ass worship. Tasha then also mentioned she had had a couple of repeat clients who were into pooping activities, i.e. brown showers or scat. She elaborated that having administered the golden shower, the brown part was not a huge leap, and she did not turn down request when the couple of clients asked, because she was familiar with them as people, not simply classified as perverts looking for a truly weird kink.
Well, one thing led to another and back after that initial six months, we had a weekend together when Tasha had time in her schedule. I accepted her offer to play mistress for me. It was a very interesting three days, or two and a half. Both of us enjoyed the things we explored, getting particularly intimate when Tasha pooped with me. But among the weird, a strong respect and a deep mutual affection showed itself. We had conventional sexual play and I allowed her to take the reins with me in bed. Despite her size, she was experienced and gentle, and it was amazing for yours truly. I had personally chosen and delivered two dozen roses to her at the end of the experience and she had cried and kissed me passionately and deeply, with genuine affection and meaning.
Fast-forward to now, three months since that first encounter, and my workday at the PC shop was done. One more Friday in the books, and I was stopping by the coffee establishment for a cool beverage on a warm spring day.
As I stepped through the door and into the shop, my eyes swept around the interior. Two ladies behind the counter six or eight feet to my front, including Tasha, in her favored jeans and polo shirt work attire. The place would be closed down for the day within forty-five minutes.
There was but one other patron, a dark brunette-haired thirty-something woman with a light tan. Her hair was actually quite long, trailing in a ponytail to at least the middle of her back. She gave a passing glance as I moved to a table and sat. Her figure was just leaning toward full from thin. Bangs looped over her forehead, leading to blue-gray eyes, a narrow nose, and fairly full lips. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a yellow button-down blouse.
As I was observing these things at a glance, Tasha made her way to me. I ordered iced tea. As she finished scribbling on her notepad, she leaned over and said quietly, “Off shift in fifteen. Hang around and come upstairs with me?” I nodded. Tasha lived in an apartment above the shop that had been there since before the current owner took over the shop and Tasha became a primary employee there. There were probably two or three other daytime employees, but only Tasha and the owner were around during my early-morning or late- afternoon visits.
Tasha departed long enough to fill my order and return to the table with a tall glass. “The day is ending, but you don’t need to rush. Take your time,” she said. I usually travelled to and from work with a small bag that contained lunch, my personal water bottle, and a paperback book and my PC tool kit. I withdrew the book and read while taking about twenty minutes to enjoy the tea.
Tasha went about the required routine for closing bahis firmaları down the shop. She left my bill. The attractive brunette had not left as I was finishing. I did notice Tasha stop to leave another bill and converse quickly with her. The woman smiled slightly and nodded at whatever was said. I picked up nothing distinct in terms of words.
I stood and wandered over to the counter and paid my bill with the owner. I felt the rather lovely brunette tracking me with brief glances as I made my way to the counter and back to the table, where I resumed my book. A few minutes later Tasha reappeared and tilted her head toward a door in the back left wall of the shop. I stood, grabbed my traveling pack and followed her.
Behind the door was the staircase which led to a residential exterior door with the requisite handle and properly stout keyed lock. I followed Tasha up and she stopped to unlock things and lead me inside the apartment space. I settled onto a loveseat immediately. Tasha disappeared to ditch her loose-fit work jeans and polo for slightly tighter jeans and a basic t-shirt. She returned and parked herself next to me.
Her place was surprisingly spacious, as well as neat and orderly. The entry opened to a square kitchen, which was open at the opposite end and adjoined the living room. Between the two rooms was a perpendicular hall with what had to be one or more bedrooms and a bathroom.
The first door on the left was Tasha’s bedroom. The second door on the left wall, a fair distance down from the first bedroom and directly across from the second door, was the bath. The bath held a toilet, sink and tub/shower unit. On the right wall of the hall was the second bedroom.
“Ok,” Tasha said to me. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that afternoon six months ago. I think both of us have no trouble admitting a deep affection and mutual attraction with each other. The kinky stuff was a serious, very welcome bonus. I’ve decided I want another weekend together, with all the perks of the first one and a couple of adjustments,” she declared.
“I think about you, too,” I said. “A lot.” She grinned, showing me pretty good teeth. But then she sighed, and her facial expression turned serious. I knew she wanted to say something, but was likely weighing how best to say what was on her mind. At last she laid it out pretty simply.
“Where to start,” she wondered aloud. “Remember during that first weekend when I tied you to the kitchen chair and dropped a load in your lap?” she asked.
“Sure,” I answered. “I think I’ll always remember every time we answered calls of nature together. Then, now, and in the future,” I added.
“Well, I found the ‘bound subject, turd in the lap’ creation very erotic. Along that line, I have lately been re-living that particular scene in my dreams, and it has led me to another prominent erotic thought.” There was a long pause. She sighed again and aired her concern in broken fragments; not nervous, just hesitant.
She said, ” I have been having serious bouts of…desire…to poop…on your face. Big, warm turds, with the only stipulations being not to rub it on you, and keep it clear of your mouth. And also, to dump logs onto a large plate, while you watch, and just let you enjoy the size I can create.” She stopped, reaching out to put both of her hands around one of mine. It became obvious she was trembling some.
I looked her in the face, fully ready to handle the oddity of the first part of her ideas on the direction to take our kink. I slid close to her. “Let me over on your lap,” I said quietly. She parted her hands, and I moved up and settled across her wide thighs.
“Wow, Tasha,” I said quietly in her ear. “I hadn’t thought about the second erotic display, but if you have dishware you can use, what the hell, right?” She laughed aloud, and I heard a big dose of relief in it. She tightened her grip some and rocked me in her lap. “Ethan, don’t flip out and leave. We have a great thing, even without the kinky stuff. But I wanted the idea out there, because I wanted to go there with that first idea, with you. I think it would prove very erotic for me. But you have to decide if you can handle that. My big ass, above you, a few inches from your face, and a big smelly load of my shit resting on it.”
I spoke. “I have thought about whether I could handle a woman doing that. I honestly don’t know. I don’t know if I would even be able to agree to let a woman start to make an attempt like that.”
She sighed again. “But,” I said, “If I was going to let it be attempted, it may as well be with a former professional, and someone I’m kinda comfortable with.”
“You would have to decide if you trust me enough. To unload right on your face. Not to get caught up and take things too far. Do you trust my judgment? My ability to control myself and keep you safe?”
My turn for a long pause. “I certainly like your ass. And you poop nice healthy turds, dear. It may be weird. But I think I kaçak iddaa trust you enough…and hearing your descriptive language just a minute ago, it made me hard. Just the talk. Besides, I’d like to be able to watch you empty yourself on a plate, too, and then just sit and look at your pretty amazing average deliveries.”
Tasha loosened her hold and gently pushed me off her shoulder. She sat looking earnestly into my face. Her lips found mine, and she kissed me long, warm and gentle, but hungry and wanting control too. Fuck.
She was now crying and laughing at the same time. “There is a kicker, though,” she managed. “I’ve been holding a load in and I pretty much have to go right now, or at least shortly, and I figure I might as well plaster your face. It should be a good, big one.”
“Well, shit…can you hold it long enough for me to get home and grab my go bag so I’m ready for the weekend here?” I asked.
She consented. “As long as you hurry a bit to get back,” she added.
I stood and walked to the door. There was still a fair amount of daylight left. Down the stairs and out the door I went. I packed basic toiletries when I made it home and packed an old pair of swim trunks and an extra set of work clothes for Monday. Twenty-five minutes later I was re-entering the coffee shop. Had I been more observant before leaving, I would have noticed the pretty brunette from earlier was still around, and when I returned she was gone. Guess where I should have suspected I might find her?
The brunette was sitting in a recliner kitty corner to Tasha’s spot on the loveseat to the right of the entry door. The brunette looked up and smiled, looking through stylish black-frame rectangular glasses. I smiled back shyly and lifted the bag as I gave Tasha a questioning look. She pointed into her bedroom. I delivered the bag, ditching my work clothes for the bathing suit and retaining a t-shirt as I stepped back out among the two women, where I knew Tasha was waiting to crap for me. On my face, came the thought.
Introductions had to be first, though. As I took my seat next to Tasha, she said, “Ethan, this is Kim.” She pointed at the brunette in the recliner. I waved and said hi, that it was nice to meet her. Tasha added, “We’ve been good friends for like five years.” Kim, Ethan has been a regular at the coffee shop for about nine months. Three months ago, we acknowledged a spark between us and had a stay-in weekend here together.”
“Ethan, Kim is familiar with my kinky side. I invited her, to enlist her help when I give you that face full we talked about. She can handle herself. Honestly, she has been wanting some toilet intimacy with a partner, if she can find the right type of guy. I told her you might fit the bill. She shares my approach. She won’t drag you in the bath with her and dominate you; she’ll tell you what she wants and ask for your help, and treat you nicely the whole time,” Tasha declared.
I looked at the dark-haired lady and noted nice legs, and nicely sized breasts. I guessed, correctly, that she was right around six feet tall. While her figure wasn’t small or large, I couldn’t get a good read on one of my other favorite parts, her butt. There would be opportunity later, if she wanted me to ride the porcelain with her.
I looked the guest in the face and said, “Kinda got the “possibly naughty librarian” thing going with the glasses and the hair. Don’t think I’d turn you down. By the way, your hair is pretty long,” I added.
Kim slid her glasses off and placed them into a small purse she had with her, as well as a small duffel. Then she reached behind her head and pulled the tie securing her ponytail. With a playful shake, she let her hair drop around her pretty face, a little wavy coming out of the pony.
She smiled knowingly, and I had a serious urge to go over and sit and bury my face in that lovely, finely textured long hair. I’d have to ask later. For now, what I verbalized was, “Wow.” She pulled her hair back again and reset the tie.
Tasha now stood and looked at me, gesturing briefly to the bathroom door. “Do or die time already, huh? Or maybe I’ll just pass out at that critical moment,” I joked as we headed for the door. Tasha was ahead of me and Kim behind. Tasha threw up her hands, and Kim sounded a deep, throaty laugh at my wisecracking.
We entered the bath. Tasha took a few towels from a cabinet behind the door. She set two aside and put the third on the floor in front of the shower unit. She directed Kim to sit herself on the floor near the shower and put the towel across her lap. She did, after removing and setting aside her clothes.
Tasha removed her top but left her jeans. “All right, Ethan. Come over here and get cozy with me while I get rid of some gas, so I don’t do it in your face.” I stepped over to her and slid my arms around her broad waist. She pulled me close, both arms nestled around my back. One arm slid down and pushed my pelvis toward her groin area. “Come kaçak bahis here. As close as we can get. Lean on me,” she said quietly. I did, and my head rested on her right shoulder.
Kim was watching with interest, and she smiled slyly as I looked at her over Tasha’s shoulder. I heard Tasha give a deep sigh and relax. Her hand slid to my ass and pressed me firmly into herself. Without further delay, I heard a low duck-quack as she started passing gas. After a second, she tensed and leaned forward and pushed a little, and the quack became a long, crackling racket with a deep little rumble behind it.
Two more seconds, and rotten eggs invaded my nostrils. Tasha slumped, relaxed. Kim’s nose flared open, and she pinched two fingers on it. After a short wait, Tasha breathed in and tensed again. She leaned forward and pushed again, duplicating the long, crackling gas release.
Tasha let me go. “We’re done. Next time I push, I’m dropping shit,” she said, giving me a fiendish look and a smile. She slid out of her jeans and put her lingerie aside. “All right you, go sit in front of Kim and rest your head on her legs.”
I walked over and sat in front of Kim. She sat with her feet flat on the floor and her knees up. I leaned against her lower legs and was able to tilt my head back and rest it on the towel across her thighs. Kim ran a hand through my short hair and caressed the right side of my face. She smiled. My dick began to stiffen.
Tasha walked over and turned her back to me. Very slowly, she stepped backwards and squatted slightly, her ass directly over my face, three or four inches above it. She reached back and took hold of each of Kim’s thighs. If Kim’s body was under any strain, it wasn’t obvious.
I took in Tasha’s wide, fleshy cheeks. What a view…I figured one of two things was going to happen. Her crap was either going to be thick and soft and literally pile on my face, or she was going to push out a log that kept growing and might well occupy the length of my face.
As I had these thoughts, Tasha’s anus opened and her rectum pulsed and dilated. A wide, dark end poked out and slid toward my face. I heard Tasha take a breath. She pushed. I felt the turd touch the middle of my forehead. I closed my eyes. The push continued. I felt heat, then I smelled more sulfur. Tasha’s delivery slid toward my hairline.
Then I felt Tasha step forward, keeping her rump low. She was making room for her load to spread out. Setting her feet, she took another breath and pushed some more. I felt a hot, soft mass drop along my nose. Suddenly, I was very afraid I was literally going to get a taste. But, Kim, bless her soul, reached out, and carefully lifted Tasha’s gift and let Tasha finish pushing it out. Kim gently curled the turd over onto my cheek.
I sensed Tasha’s wonderfully large butt moving up and away. She was standing. Kim talked to me. “Relax, Ethan. Tasha is going to wipe, and then take a Polaroid so you can have a look. Tasha cranked out a great big load. It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t get to see it. After the picture, we’ll get this awesome turd off your face and scrub it for you.”
Not daring to move any facial muscles, I squeezed one of Kim’s hands. I heard Tasha using TP, then dropping and flushing. She hustled out and then back through the door. The camera. I felt Tasha near me again.
The healthiest part of her turd was still near my nose, and the rotten sulfurous smell was very prominent. Surprisingly, my erection throbbed behind the fabric of the swim trunks. Now I heard the Polaroid hum and spit a photo out the front. Tasha was shaking it gently and set it aside. Kim held my head steady. I sensed Tasha leaning over and carefully lifting her deposit off my face with two hands. Sensing nothing was obstructing my ability to open my eyes, I did so and saw Tasha placing her turd in the toilet.
She stepped to the sink and thoroughly washed her hands. Then she let the basin fill and soaked a washcloth. She lathered it with soap and passed it to Kim. I closed my eyes again. Kim worked soap across my forehead, then along both cheeks, my jawline and chin. Tasha rinsed. Kim wiped my face. Tasha rinsed and soaped the cloth a second time. Kim washed my nose and up under my eyes. One final rinse and another scrub.
Tasha stepped over and flushed the toilet. She stepped to the sink and thoroughly washed her hands. I lifted my head off Kim’s lap and stood up slowly. Tasha took the Polaroid photo and stood at the door, saying, “The three of us can admire this later. I want to start dinner. You two could get a shower in.” She left.
“You want to go first?” I asked. I got a classic female “what-the-fuck?” look. Kim said, “What the hell fun is that? I figure we ought to do it together.” I shrugged and surrendered, sliding out of my clothes. A naked Kim stepped in the stall and started the water. I stepped in and slid the curtain over.
Kim shook out her ponytail and took the arduous time to lather and rinse all her hair; had to be a pain in the ass, the one drawback of letting hair grow. But she finished, then soaped and rinsed the rest of herself–except for her crotch. Very carefully, Kim pulled me close and looped her arms around me.
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