Okay, after reading this site just about daily, I finally have an experience worth writing about. I finally got to experience something I've always wanted to do: watch my boyfriend take a shit.
We've been going out for about 7 months, and I've always had a feeling he would be open to the idea of letting me watch him dump. He's pretty open about bodily functions, and was openly farting around me from practically our first date (something I pretended grossed me out, but in reality excited me). I think the only thing holding me back was that I was just too embarrassed to admit to him that I wanted to watch. But last night my desire prevailed.
I knew that he pretty much almost always took a shit after eating dinner. So last night I cooked for him at my place (he's got roommates, so I knew that he'd only feel comfortable letting me watch in my apartment). He made some joke about being time to send the "Cleveland Browns to the Superbowl," and headed to the bathroom. That's when I asked if I could go in with him. He was a little surprised at first, but finally said, "It's fine with me, I don't care."
So he dropped his pants and boxers and sat down on the toilet. "Are you sure you want to be here for this?" he asked. I nodded and smiled at him. He looked at me like I was crazy. "Okay," he replied, with a slight "you asked for it" tone in his voice.
At first, the only thing that came out was a loud fart, that echoed against the bowl. He gave me a look that said "oops" in that cute little way boyfriends can get away with. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a turd slithering out of his ass, which delicately submerged into the water. Next his ass sighed out an airy fart. Then Suddenly, the smell hit me like a punch in the face. I had been in the bathroom after he's taken a shit many times, and I've always been able to tolerate the smell, but I wasn't prepared for how much more intense the smell was when I was actually there for the act. But not wanting to discourage him from letting me watch in the future, I didn't let on that the smell bothered me.
Then he started pushing out a second log, which slithered out with a slight crackling sound, hitting the water gently. Another airy fart escaped from his ass, which was followed by what I could determine was a much smaller turd because of its evident kersplash. "I think that's it," he said. I asked if I could see into the bowl. Surprisingly, he was unfazed by this and stood up, giving me a clear view of his effort. There they were, two well-formed, cigar-shaped turds floating on the surface, each about five or six inches long, and a smaller dollop of shit on the bottom. He looked at them too, although he wasn't nearly as fascinated as I was.
He sat back down, and I could tell by his hesitation that he kind of wanted me to leave while he wiped up, but I wasn't going to leave this show before the final act. So I kissed him and told him that it makes me feel good that he's comfortable enough to let me watch him do that. So he grabbed a wad of toilet paper, leaned to one side and began wiping. Surprisingly there wasn't much brown on the first wipe, and by the third, it was completely clean. He stood up once more, flushed, and we both watched it go down the drain.
At this point, I was getting really horny, and it's not because I found the act of shitting to be erotic, or anything. I think what turned me on was the sheer intimacy of the act. None of my previous boyfriends had ever been so open or comfortable doing such a private act. We ended up making love afterward (he didn't even get a chance to hoist up his pants), which I think was a huge encouragement for him to let me watch him shit in the future. I guess I'll find out when he comes over again tomorrow night.
Excuse me, I always forgot to told I'm male and I am an italian boy.
Last Sunday, my parents went away at 6.50 and they would not return before 12 p.m.
In the morning I thought what felt someone who had taken a laxative; I decided to try it and took some Guttalax; I took care about the quantity: I wanted to bacome desperate only one time.
I waited and,in the afternoon (about 3 p.m.) I went in the near field for a walk.
An hour later I was about 2 miles away from my house and suddenly I felt an increasing urge to poop.
I thought tat the G uttalax was working and slowly started to return home.
While I was walking some huge cramps hit my abdomen and the urge to take a dump became very strong.
I tried to run, but I became only more desperate.
It was a terrible walk and when I was near my house was walking very slowly and I was sweating.
Then the cramps became more strong and some wet poop escaped in my underwears.
I was in pain and, when another cramp came, my bowels decided to empty themselves and an enormous amount of poop fell in my underwears.
I was mortified and restart walking whit a big bulge on my pants; some minutes later I felt again the urge to poop and, after thinking that my pants were also pooped, I relax my butt and some wet poop went in the pants, forming a brown big stain on them.
When I reached home, I washed the pants and then my parents returned.
To Jess (a girl): I enjoyed your story about shitting on the side of the road.
To Poop smells good: Liked your story..thats a bummer you messed your self and couldn't go to that dance.
To Got Guts: Liked your story...thats 2 places i don't eat, mcdonalds and chineses gives me the runs.
To The Prof: Thats an intresting fact.
To Brittany: Liked your story...do you think any one found your poop?
To Michael M: Liked your story..maybe that girl was nervous? I liked your story about your friend mikey..how come his shit was yellow? That must have been some cool experiences.
To the "HOLD IT" man: Thats cool you might see that woman.
To Incitatis: Liked your story..was any one in the movies?
To Potty Pooper: I mentioned the top 10 bathrooms on travel channel...thats cool about HGTV...I liked your story too.
To PV: Thats funny,...the skits
To JaLe: Liked your story.
To wetguy: I loved your story about golfing and having to pee and your story about shitting your self, was the shit messy? or was it nice and firm?
To Tess: Liked your story about pooping in front of your bro.
To Jacob G in FL: Saying Hi back
To CC: Liked your story..that Ad sounds cool
To Mike: Enjoyed your story
the "HOLD IT" man
Alexis, I don't mean to be rude, but taking a dump in a stream is wrather gross to say the least. People fish in those streams some times, then eat the fish that they catch.
Michael M, is sounds like your frient Charlotte had a problem with 'stage fright' but most likely, she wanted the attention. I say that because if she peed the way you described, she had to be holding it in for a long time, or drinking alot of liquid.
Katrina, I know of alot of women who have that exact same 'motovation' you have when it comes to holding and hard peeing. My cousen, Katie mentioned the same thing, as did many other women who I know. In that situation, men don't have a prayer, because I have not known of one who actualy got sexualy stimulated by the act of holding, and the the tingling of the pee stream also does not effect any sensitive areas. My enjoyement of holding is purely motovated by my fetish interests. I also enjoy seeing and hearing women piss hard and long, which is why I got into the fetish to begin with.
By the way, I did another hold last Saturday, and I finaly got up over 1000 militres. I was drinking Diet Mountain Dew and water, and my hold time was not very impressive, only 3 hours, but I did drink two 500 militres of Dew and two 500 militres of Aquafina. I was almost but not quite at the pain level when I decided to let loose. My flood got up to 1050 militres, which is an all-time high for me. However, after my initial hold, my guess my bladder was tired or something. I had to pee 3 more times after that, and all three times I almost didn't make it to the bathroom. The first of those 3 pisses was a little under 700 militres, the 2nd was around 400 and the third was around 400.
I mentioned in an earlier post that I was going to try for a long hold when I go to pick up my power amp, and let loose at the shop for that girl who peed for me over the phone. I think I will scale my liquids back to not more then one litre total. I will let you all know how it went.
Hi, I've been reading this forum for a long time, and this is my first post. I just wanted to respond to a recent post by Katrina. She stated that she gets pleasure and stimulation from holding her pee, and went on to say it is impossible for men to hold for pleasure. Let me just say I am a man and I have been holding for pleasure for more than 30 years, and I get very stimulated by it. In fact, for years I thought it was just a guy thing until I started surfing the 'Net and discovered many like-minded people. Katrina I do enjoy your stories. You have a very impressive bladder capacity. I admire that. And that goes for everyone else with mammoth bladders who post here. Keep up the good work!
Thursday, January 30, 2003
To Michael M - Loved your story about your friend peeing his pants on the way home from school, and yes, I did witness something like this, twice. The first time involved my brother's friend, Philip, at the time about 11. They were walking home from school when a huge thunderstorm came. My mom and I, 14 at the time, happened to pass them coming home and they got in the car out of the rain. Philip was blatantly holding his crotch tight and complaning of how bad he had to pee. But we couldnt get out of the car even when we got home because the lightning was too dangerous. After a few minutes, Phil just couldnt take it any more and I noticed his crotch start getting darker real fast. He began to get panicky and was successful in his effort to stop peeing only after his pants were real wet. After about 10 more minutes, we were finally able to get out. Phil's butt was soaked since he was sitting down when he had his accident, and his crotch area (underneath) was also totally wet.! By this point, with the rain water not helping, I was also bursting to pee, as I had not done so after school, but i didnt want to appear weak in front of my younger brother and his friens. Luckily, I wasnt at the peeing in my pants stage, so at least one of us made it!
The second one involved my friend Ryan, also when we were 14. On the bus home from school right now, Ryan became absolutely desperate to pee. He was sitting in the seat in front of me, and I could see him constantly bouncing and moving from left to right in the seat. I sneaked a look over the seat and he had his hands buried in his crotch holding on. He kept saying in a childish way, "I NEED a toilet." Well, the bus didnt have a bathroom. By the time we reached our stop, which was one house down from his, he had squirted in his pants about 4 times, but it was still hardly noticable. As soon as we reached our stop, he sprinted to his front door and did a MAJOR pee dance as he dug out his key while holding himself with the other hand. I dont know if he peed any more in his pants, but i think he probably did. This was pretty hot to watch from my perspective because he was and still is a pretty macho, good-looking guy who always likes to act better than his peers, so it was ! fun to see him so desperate to pee.
Another recent bathroom related thing on tv I forgot to mention was on an Australian sketch comedy show called 'Flidside'. The sketch starts with a woman in running gear (tights etc), walking at great speed. You think, ok she's power walking. She then turns into a driveway and goes into a house. You see her go into a room then hear her do a wee (you hear a nice stream with some moaning of relief). The toilet flushes and she comes out and exits the house. A couple doing some gardening look on as this stranger walks past them out of their house. The woman says "Sorry, I really had to go" and walks off casually. I found this and incredible turn on as the woman is quite attractive.
John Q Public
I had a similar experience when I was a senior in high school. My bladder control back then was still tenous at best, and I realy had to take a leak. We were going on a school field trip. We all had the "choice" of driving there ourselvs or taking the bus. I had just gotten my very first car, and wanted to drive there myself, but the teacher in charge of the field trip INSISTED that the people who drive must partner up with several others. The minimum requirement was 2 persons per car. As luck would have it, I ended up partnerd with one of the football bullies, who was also one of the richest kids in the school, and had a brand new Trans Am. He was not about to be seen in my old jelopie, so I ended up having to ride with this guy. I wanted to opt for the bus after that, but all the seats were taken. Then I decided that I didn't want to make the trip, but my parents already paid for it so they were insistant that I go. In short, I had to ride across two states in! the back seat of some one elses car, and since I knew that this guy was not going to make any special stops on my account, I decided to pack a few diapers.
Well as I predicted, this guy would drive 6 hours at a time, and by the time we got to our hotels, I was pretty soaked. Luckily, my parents gave me enough money for my own private hotel room, so I did not have to worry about anyone finding out about my problem.
When the trip was over, we started back home. Again, I was with the same idiot I rode out there with. This time, however, I had eaten something that made me sick, and not only did it give me diareah, it also made me nausious. I told him that I had an emergency and I had to take a crap NOT, but he laughed it off and told me to shug up. I started farting, and the stink was so bad that it was making me even sicker, so this "prince" of a guy pulled into a gas station, I ran to the bathroom, crapped all over the floor because I didn't make it to the toilet, and I vomited. I did my best to clean up the mess. My diaper was soaked in the mean time. I was probably running a fever to boot. After I got everything cleaned up as best I could, I came back out to find that my bags were sitting on the pavement and my ride had left with out me. I was miles away from home, and I had to call my parents to get me.
I waited at that gas station, sick and miserable for over 12 hours until my aunt finaly arrived. My parens could not get the time off from their jobs.
After the entire ordeal was over, and I was back in school, I reported what happened to the teacher was incharge, and she decided that the wh ole situation was my own fault, and that I deserved to be left there like that.
So much for enlightened educators.
Touching off another blast
I seem to have this habit of needing to crap my inwards out shortly after I arrive at the office; that is, at 9:45 AM or so. It is as if the maddening pace and the new reminders of the old production requirements are enough to goad my lower GI into prompt action. I was sitting in front of the computer screen today when this situation presented itself. By the time I finally began the trip down to the john, I could feel the load working against the inside of my now-straining anal gate. I thought I'd drop something solid at the beginning, so substantial was this internal presentation of my colon's latest traffic.
So I get into the can and see that someone is using #1 crapper, nearest the door. Since I'm not into neighborly shits with strangers from other parts of the floor, I moved on to the #3 stall, which has handicap access. We do have a bona fide handicapped worker I sometimes see in there, and I always worry about his coming along mid-dump and booting me. Though it feels a bit more precarious, perched up there on that taller throne, this station has no-slip textured aluminum rails that I can grasp as needed, to provide bodily leverage against whatever turd needs assisting.
Preparing for something of the expected crackling log, I plopped butt-cheeks down and uncorked the channel. Whomp!, it went, a most fervent and essentially explosive blast. I looked in the bowl like every crapping fan does and saw that I'd delivered another shipment of diarrhea, in keeping with having eaten little more than refined junk food over the last day. There was a certain aggressive "punch" to this poo, and sometimes the water will even splash up from such an action, to soak my unexpecting anus. I noted that the color was on the darker side, and the stench had more of that "upper GI" flavor, the one you tend to associate frequently with vomit. I'm sure my gastroenterologist would give me hell for operating such undisciplined entrails. I blew a short couple of dribblings of the tail end of this express delivery, then did a savage wipe with a huge wad of paper, correctly guessing that the smear factor back there was extensive. The cleared adherent material w! as rather like ordinary river mud, familiar to any kid who has collected frogs from a stream in the summer.
Now, though, I'm free of that horrid bucket-ful; my internal charge is spent. I can at last relax my sphincter-assembly and sit back to do some work. It is something, though, to observe the quantity of motor action (might it just be peristalsis?) that ushers out such powerful bursts from the buttholes of the irritated and chronically worked person. In the open, that blast would have sprayed forth like the stuff you sometimes see from animals with cloacas--joint shit and piss openings--such as birds and reptiles.
I need to begin using fiber laxative again, like the doctor told me last time I was overhauled for 'rhoids. These impetuous impulses on the toilet do not strike me as fully healthy.
No time to waste
I am M, 40, and work in an office. I got in today at about 9:30 AM, and not long after sitting down at my desk, I realized that the appointed hour had come, for the dumping of a well-motivated load. I made my way out the office door, where there always seems to be someone coming along the hall to be in my way, saying to myself the little marching cadence, "Poo-u-lo, poo-poo-u-lo". I think this comes from some old TV commercial for a toy corn popper: "Pop-pi-ty, pop-pop-pi-ty". I get down to the entrance of the john when a worker from another department wonders if I'm going back to my desk; he needed help finding some information. I said "no, I don't think I'm going back any time soon", so I had to jot off some search terms for him, all the while I had to hold the un-holdable, up there within.
As to the constitution of this horrid crap, I expected a tough time, since I had chowed one of those Chipotle burritos at my desk the afternoon before, at about 4:30 PM. I always order the "hot" salsa on the side, dumping as much as I dare on the burrito as I go along. This was the "fajita" kind, too, with all the fine roughage that has to offer. I plopped my big behind onto the #1 stall of three (on the left side, with only one neighbor on the right), where there is a crack about 3 inches wide between the wall and the door frame that folks sometimes string toilet paper over for privacy. If you walk past a crack-aperture like that at the right speed, persistence of vision can develop an entire picture from the "scan". Well, this dropping went un-observed. It began semi-solid, and was as forceful as I could have imagined. This
degenerated into a mushy chunk-stream that I then correctly deduced was from the aforementioned meal the day before. I blew that product as fully as I could, then got ready--when pinching one's anus off onto chile-rich turd-substance, it seems that a potent effect is suddenly thrust upon a suddenly-sensory environment. This was a real example of being roasted, across the broad expanse of my butt-hole region. I began to feel a bit ill, knowing I wasn't done, then proceeded to blast the remainder of what was on hand. In wiping down after such an event, it is not enough to obtain nominal cleanliness, for the salsa remnant is unforgiving to one's anal mucosa, in even small amounts. It took a couple of savage swipes at an already-enraged landscape. Sometimes on these "power wipes", I'm wont to holler out, when no one is around, for it is a decidedly-strong affront to one's sensation down there. The typical shout is "Ohhh!" or "Aaa-ohh!" or "Aaaagh!", as though I were m! aking what Gy.Sgt. Hartman calls a "war face" in "Full Metal Jacket". Man, this was a truly vicious holding. I almost couldn't walk, with the way my whole butt-crack was being pounded by this smearing. I had to go back down the hall with an ass fully on fire. This is the problem with eating at those places with the hot sauce, though I won't deny that the humble chile is one of the great gifts to all humanity. Now it's past 1100, and the residue seems better-behaved. In the bowl, this crap was a loosely-assembled initial coil, topped by a pile that assembled vertically, like those wet-sand sculptures kids will make at the beach.
The water doesn't seem to get at this kind of crap, and it almost looks like the equivalent dump taken out of doors.
And as to horrid fudgulence, blown in the great and the open, I am reminded of these tasteless commercials we have in the US for Charmin toilet tissue. They are animations in which a big ol' male bear trots along with his roll of Charmin, sticks it over a tree branch for a holder, and settles to his business. The finale is when you know the bear has to be wiping, and he has this overwhelming face of gratitude. Ahh--clean at last.
There is a joke I heard sometime back about bears and woodland crapping, too. It seems a bear and a rabbit were squatted next to each other, in the process of taking their respective dumps. The bear shit chugged in irregular patterns, nasty and brown-black in its hunkiness, while the rabbit pinched off his series of neat nodular waste. The bear, at the conclusion, asks the rabbit, "do you have problems with shit sticking to your fur?", to which the rabbit replies, "no, I don't". The bear then grabs the rabbit bodily and uses him to wipe his putrid and fudge-smeared rump, in a grand swipe. "Thanks, rabbit," he says, to his dumping buddy, who now has a major woe to contend with.
It better be something other than burritos today.
Robby and Annie
Hi Fellow Toidyteers!
All of us are very regular these days. I have had my morning poop and so has Annie. I guess things are a little boring. I have some replies.
****KENDAL, ANDREW, ELEANOR, and ELLEN: Hi dear ones! KENDAL, I just read your last story. It seems vaguely familiar. We want to hear what YOU did! I had forgotten the that story I wrote to you and Andrew. Please let us know how you and Andrew are doing in life and in the toidy. Also how are Ellen and Eleanor? Well, Take care and write soon. Lots of Lovexxxx from Robby and Annie
****PV: Hey gal! You Aussies are really getting into the "toilet" in the shows and commercials. I would really like to see some of them. I hope they will eventually show people in their most toidy moments! Take care. Love from Robby and Annie
****JESS(a girl): Hi and welcome to the forum. We liked your story. We know that all of us have had the same experience. Annie and I have. I know how terrible it is to have to squat and have the shits on the side of the road in any weather. Take care. Love from Robby and Annie
****Brittany: Hi and welcome!! My girls have had the unpleasant pleasure of eating mexican and then the runs. Just take it easy with it. I just make sure I am within the distance of a loo whenever I eat mexican food. Take care! Love from Robby and Annie
I have to go!! Love and greetings to: INA, STEVE AND LOUISE, RIZZO, JANE AND GARY, TIM AND SARAH, TODD AND DIANA, BRYIAN, ADRIAN, PUNK ROCK GIRL, LINDAGS, KATRINA, EPHERMAL, DIVA, SARA, DAMSEL, DONNA, JENNY, MADELEINE, AND ALL OF THE OTHER WONDERFUL POSTERS!!!
HAPPY POOS AND WEES
ROBBY AND ANNIE
Wifey at the dentist
My wife had to go to the dentist to have a tooth removed, she was told not to have anything to eat or drink that morning as she was having a general anaesthetic, so she had a large meal the night before.
She got up that morning and put on a long skirt and 3 inch high heeled boots, probably not the best choice of clothing to wear for having a general anaesthetic.
She was nervous about it and shortly before leaving home she said that she was bursting for a poop, she went and sat on the toilet and I heard her drop soft lumps of poo which went "ploonk" "ploonk" "ploosh" into the toilet, then her bottom exploded as a load of very loose poo shot out followed by a loud bubbly fart and then more loose poo came out, for the next ten minutes she squirted out loose poo and bubbly farts. When she had finished and wiped herself clean she came out, I then drove her to the dentist. We sat in the waiting room and she said that she needed to go again, she took off her coat and went into a small toilet just by the door of the waiting room. I heard her fart loudly a couple of times and she came out again, she said it was only wind that hardly made her bottom wet.
The nurse called her in to the dentist, she said I could stay with her. She laid back on the fully reclined chair and the dentist raised it and tied a plastic apron around her neck, she was fidgiting nervously and I wondered what would happen if she pooped herself in the chair, then he placed the mask over her nose and mouth and told her to look at me and start counting. She was inhaling ether gas and counted to about fifteen, by then she was out cold. The dentist pulled out her tooth and spent a few minutes stopping the bleeding and gave her an injection to make her face numb, then he gave her air to bring her round.
After a few minutes I took her back to the waiting room, she was a bit unsteady on her feet, not helped by her high heels.
After about five minutes she was ready to go home, as we were driving home she told me to pull over as she was going to be sick, she got out of the car, bent over a rubbish bin and vomited, three gushes of vomit came out, she stayed there for about five minutes and then got back in the car. Shortly after getting home she needed to poo again, I helped her wobble upstairs on her high heels. I unfastened her skirt and helped her slip out of it, then she pulled her tights and pants down and sat on the toilet.
She must have emptied her bowels in one go as her bottom exploded with lots of runny poo and loud wet farts. Then she said she was going to be sick again so I gave her a plastic carrier bag, she retched and vomited and as she did so she farted and squirted out more runny poo.
When she had finished she put her skirt back on and went out for a walk to clear her head, when she came home she said that the sickness had passed but she had one more farting squirting session on the toilet.
Yes, I saw that plumbing add! I meant to report it here but forgot that one! A bank manager or some-such, lookig at his account books on the loo with the door open... Very bizarre!
And the Aussie attack continues -- sighted just tonight: some sort of comedy/real life thing, in which we see an internal video of a guy using a porta-loo, which is then picked up by a sanitation truck and up-ended into its container, with probably predictable results...
Katrina. Thanks for your kind words. I'm not sure that I agree with you about men not being able to find the holding sensation pleasurable. I've found that it can, up to a point, give a pleasant sensation but there comes a point (sooner rather than later) where, as a guy, I've gotta go!
Got Guts. It sounds to me as though your friend wasn't really such a good friend after all and probably not worthy of your company. If I was with a friend who expressed a need to go to the loo urgently I would do everything in my power to help him or her get there as quickly as possible.
Anon. I enjoyed your post. It's very true that a lot of country churches haven't got toilets and I'm surprised not to hear of many more experiences like yours. That said, I wouldn't drink 3 pints before the ceremony and I'd make sure I'd been to the loo (preferably in both senses) at least once. You could, I think, have slipped out during the ceremony with your partner and found somewhere discreet though. It's a pity you missed the reception.
Robby. Enjoyed your post. Keep them coming!
Do your poos generally float or sink? Floaters are Poos that have an unusually high gas content. Sometimes the gases produced by bacteria in our stomach and intestines don't have a chance to collect into a large fart bubble, but remain dispersed in the poo. The Poo then comes out foamy, and has a lower density than water, and so floats. Sinkers on the other hand have a higher density than water due to the gases forming into farts and being expelled.
To unamed poster who pooped at the party: I loved your story do you think the others were proud to see it?
To FART LOVER: What is rectum medication..never heard of it.
To coyote: Thats intresting about the toilets
To Towel Girl: 1. I some times dry my hole, depending if i spot washed or if i shower i usally don't. 2. Only a little way in 3. Yes 4. most of the time.
To T V Fan: Thats intresting about survior...i don't know how any one could poop 2x in 30 days...it must have been a big one, do you know?
To Traveling Guy: Thats intresting about the coins.
To Amy: Liked your story about your b/f watching you shit.
To Mark: Loved your stories about the girl at the party and shitting at school.
To Tawny D.: Loved your story about your b/f letting you watch him shit..cool
To italy: Liked your story...your parents were still out when you got back right?
To wetguy: Liked your stories
To John Q Public: I enjoyed your story...i think that was rude what that bullie did!
To Robby and Annie: saying hi back
To Wifey at the dentist: Liked your story..do you think she was sick from the medicine from the dentist?
To The prof: Mine usally sink or float..usally varies from time to time.
I forgot to post this the other day, when i had that big 13" shit the other night the toilet almost over flowed...luckly it didn't
I had this toilet dream last night, that i was at work and i kept needing to run to the bathroom to poop..i hate when that happens at work well gotta go now, bye
Continued travails of alimentation
My tract has seen more desperate traffic, with its culmination in today's series of butt-expression. I had another of those Chipotle wonder-burritos on Thursday, thinking I'd crap another of those piles that has a chance to burn me twice. However, nothing came on Friday, which was something of a surprise. A day without poo-ulence is like a day without sunshine. This morning, however, gave the matter a chance to work its way out. Shortly after after rising, my colon chugged forth a substantial spray of essentially dissociated diarrhea, of the kind that has an indistinct and fuzzy border at the edges of the bowl. Characteristic of this introductory dump was a peppering of floating corn kernels, but this time I didn't pick up a chile roasting of my anal territory. Perhaps after 36 hours, one's guts will neutralize the corrosive characteristics of that stuff. I went back to watching a video on the sofa, Brad Pitt in "Fight Club", I do believe, and before too awful lo! ng, I pumped the last of my liquid-phase contents for the day.
Feeling predictably empty as I did with afternoon approaching, I searched the house for food. I was successful in resurrecting the half of a large Papa John's pizza that I'd ordered 5 or 6 days back. Waste not, want not. Something so utterly suffused with choice seasoning and nitrite-cured meat-product has now installed a new regime in my intestines. We're talking of the minor joy of prodigous volumes of prodigal fart. Maybe when you pump out a nasty remnant of liquid digestive attempt, the new chow supply can get at the flora section sooner. As far as I can tell, I'm now harboring a bubbling flask of fermenting bio-materials. I've been laying around watching more movies, and letting some majestic farts, sometimes when I've been zipped into my sleeping bag. This affords the opportunity to gas one's self with...one's self, by crawling completely inside. Of course, being on the older side of the fence, I have to regulate these disbursements, since the old gut-wor! ks can try to slip liquid content into fart-windows. Yes, I'm enough of a geezer to have crapped drawers so badly that I've had to throw them out. But this state is blissfuly of a well-behaved gaseous production, and I guess I really don't think they stink. I wonder if others are as fond of their own putrid aromas in the peri-shitting interval.
Oh, and as to the comments about peeing and stimulation of the genitals, I would agree that women have the advantage, in that the section of urethra in which urinary flow might become turbulent and thus a source of vibration is much more closely tied, anatomically and mechanically, to the entire set of clitoral nerve endings than in a man, where the quantity of erectile flesh to absorb urethral vibration is much greater.
I would think that the same general gauge of nerve bundle is connected to each of the respective business ends down there.
Well, it is time to crash back out and develop some more farts. Chow on the rugged side certainly can be the prime mover for even more daring personal fart- and poo-expressions. Stench, it would seem, lies in the nose of the beholder. God awlmighty, but does it stink!
The other day Jess wrote, "I'm not fascinated by bodily functions" and followed that by a graphic description of a diarrhea attack at the roadside which I read with interest and sympathy. Surely everyone who reads and contributes to this wonderful website is fascinated by bodily functions. Why not? For the first years of our existence peeing and shitting are the sole sources of pleasure except eating and celebrated as such. In my case, as I have written, the bm was the big moment of the day and by kissing and encouraging me to push out my turds Annie my Austrian babysitter made it a participatory act. The cloak of embarrassment and shame was never lowered until Annie left the household when I was 12.
I have remained caught up in the subject. Annie remains my ideal so that I am enormously attracted to the idea of women of her age having a pee or a shit - and little or no interest in younger girls or males.
I also recognise that a well-made stool is an object of beauty. A year or two ago I went to a three-day horse show which had portable toilets on the site as participants had to stay overnight. I got their early for my own motives! A youngish fair-haired woman in breeches who reminded me of Annie was leaving a toilet. I went in immediately after her. In the bowl was the most beautiful turd you have ever seen standing upright in a litter of others. Eight inches in length, milk-chocolate in colour, multi-faceted, firm and proud. I would love to have been with the perpetrator as it squeezed its way into the world. It was a perfect still-life and I wish I had the talent to paint it.
I'll write more another day. Love to you all.
Thom and other constipated men
This is the story about my twin brother's constipation and helping him out. We are not identical, even though we look very much alike, and we have always had similar bowel functions. We both have problems with constipation and were never inhibited around each other since we grew up sharing the bathroom experience along with every other experience.
When we were about 15 we were staying at my grand parent's house for a couple of weeks in the summer. We had both been having problems on the toilet, but he was in worse shape. We always took turns in the morning as we showered and got dressed, so we always knew how the other's colon was functioning. It never seemed like some bad secret or something to be embarrassed about. Anyway, I had been able to labor and squueze out a few hard balls each morning, but it had been five days since he had done anything and he was feeling uncomfortable. I had watched him rocking and squirming on the comode each morning and evening with no result. On the fifth day he told me it had been five days and he could not move his bowels at all and he was in bad shape. He didn't want to tell my grand parents or call home to our folks. I told him to eat some fruit and wait till that night and maybe his bowels would loosen up. He did eat a couple of apples and told me during the day he cou! ld feel something churning inside. But when it was time to go to bed, we both hit the bathroom for showers and when I came out and was toweling off, he was other toilet and was really stressed. He was farting a lot and he said it felt like there was a lot of shit inside, but he couldn't do anything. I told him to try different positions and he did. He bent forward and grunted, he sat up straight and groaned, but it made no difference. His bowels were locked up tight and the shit wouldn't budge. He said it was right at his assholebecause he could feel the hard tip as his hole opened and closed. Finally, I suggested that I could help him out if he didn't think it was too weird. He did not mind at all because he was desparate. I told him to sit backwards on the toilet, which he did. I told him to push and as he did, he farted several times. Then the hard shiny tip started pushing out, but when he relaxed, it went back in. I told him I could see it and to push again! .. He did and I massaged his buns and hole. When the tip was out a little ways, I grabbed it and started pulling. He kind of jerked because he said it hurt. It felt like his colon was being pulled out. I kept pulling and a hard rock like turd about 3 inchs in diameter finally came out. It was about 8 inches long and was made up of a lot of hard dry balls that were stuck together. I then stuck my finger in his ass and wiggled it around to help free things up. I could feel a lot up there. He started ejecting cannon balls ... a whole bowl full. After it was over, he was really tired and sweaty. He took a shower and crashed. We were never weirded out by the experience and continued to share the bathroom.
That's about it.