Hi everyone! This site is definitely for me, since my friends and I have pooping/farting competitions. There are four of us: Min (short for Melinda), Lori, Vanessa, and me. First though, I'll describe the four of us high school girls:
Min's a pretty Chinese girl, 5'5", with black hair that's really long, down to her waist, that she wears in a braid. Her eyes are kinda dark brown. She's the slimmest of all of us, but she still has a good figure, and especially nice hips.
Lori's a short blonde, 5'1", with aqua-ish eyes and these dark blue glasses. (Is aqua-ish a word? Nope, but it is now.) She's got more of an hourglass figure than Min or me, although she's really shy about it, especially her butt, which we joke that "Baby Got Back" was written about.
Vanessa has to be the weirdest of us. Her fave color is metallic red, so she dyed her hair...metallic red. Before that, she was blonde too. She's got a nice set of breasts and the best butt I've ever seen. She's slightly taller than me, at 5'7".
And then there's me, kinda slim, kinda average height, 5'6", kinda light brown hair, with an okay figure.
Anyway, now that that's done, we can get to the good stuff: the Dump Olympics!
Poop competition 1: Largest Poop (duh, what'd you expect)
We started this one day when we were bored and Vanessa was farting like crazy, leaning toward us and ripping them off like you wouldn't believe. We were all at my house (luckily, if we'd have been at the mall we'd have been in trouble) and we were all ribbing her about the smell, and finally Min ordered her to go and take a dump. Vanessa relented, leaving the door open, as is usually the case. She pulled down her pants and American-Flag-patterned thong. As soon as she sat down, she started making these loud grunting noises, and the most amazing faces.
"You okay in there?" Lori asked.
"Just....RRRGGGAAAAHGHH....a sec..." Suddenly, we heard a loud splash, and then what sounded like (and what turned out to be) massive amounts of soft poop landing in the bowl. Being the concerned friends we are, we all crowded around the doorway.
"Good show, huh?" Vanessa asked as she now effortlessly dropped the rest of the poop into the bowl. "Hey, why don't you take a picture there?"
"Actually, I have one in my bag," Min said. She produced her Polaroid camera to take a picture. Vanessa posed, putting her hands on her thighs and smiling brightly as Min snapped away. Then Vanessa wiped her very sticky butt and moved away. When she did, we saw a thick, gooey pile in the toilet.
"That's pretty big," I said.
"Yeah, but I can beat it," Lori said. This just happens to be one thing she's not shy about. Unhooking her overalls and pulling them down with her panties to her knees, she sat on the bowl.
"You too?" I asked.
"Hey, Vanessa wasn't the only one stinking you guys out in there," Lori said with a "naughty little girl" grin. She pushed, and Min took more pictures. We all heard big thuds and flumps as Lori's firm dump smacked porcelain. She rubbed her stomach during the hard times. After about ten minutes, she was done too. Her wipe was clean on the second try.
When we looked into the bowl, we saw two big fat kielbasas, probably eight inches long and three and a half inches wide, and a long curving one that looped around the bowl once. It had to be at least two and a half feet total.
Seeing our shocked expressions, Lori blushed and giggled. "I haven't been since Wednesday (It was a Saturday)."
"I didn't go since then either," Vanessa said.
"Well, it's close, I think it's a tie," Min said, studying the first picture and the sight in the bowl. "Looks like you both win."
"Hmmm," I said, thinking. "We should have competitions like this more often. Except next time, at someone else's house; if my toilet breaks, you guys are paying. Especially you, Lori," I said, pointing at her as she was clipping her overalls back together. And so, the Dump Olympics were born.
Hey Black Chaos, I saw that one commercial the other day. I'd probably respond the same way the guy did, though. I mean, if the 7Up guy had the toilet paper, you wouldn't be able to wipe until you got it from him, so it'd be best to just go with it.
Hey Amber, that was funny about how your friend was waiting around for ten minutes with nothing to wipe with...ON THE DRIVEWAY. Weren't you afraid someone would see you guys?
Hey Sloppy Sally, I've done that ice cube thing before too. It really works well, but I find that my anus feels really weird for a while after.
Hey Bryian, I've had that experience before, incidentally, it was the time when I used the ice cube in my anus. After a night at Chili's (that Vanessa forced me to go to...it was all HER fault) my stomach was severely messed up the next day, and I really wanted to fart, but I was scared I'd crap my pants. So I went over to the toilet, and let loose. After about thirty seconds of farting, I exploded in the toilet with loose sloppy stuff similar to what Sally had. After I was done, I wiped with wet toilet paper, because the dry toilet paper would have hurt too much. Feeling another rumble, I sat down, this time spreading my cheeks a bunch so they wouldn't get as messy. After spewing another wave into the pot, I wiped mildly, and got up with my pants around my thighs, holding up the front. Getting an ice cube from the freezer, I slid it around my anus until it opened, and accepted the nice, cool gift. I felt better after that. So yes, you could fart, but I'd get on the toil! et first.
Thanks for reading this really long post!
Melodie in Louisiana
Thanks for reading my posts! My body is so used to my shitting at my bathtime that I don't really have to strain too hard to get the turds out of my asshole. I just sit on the toilet and give a little push and out they come .... plop, plop, fiz, fiz. Arms crossed across my stomach.
I really would not mind having a good friend watching me take a shit. When I was in high school my best friend and I would usually shit together whenever we spent nights together. We would do turd comparisons and the like. But I would always wipe myself and she the same. But, I think it would be kinda special to have a friend that would be willing to do that for me. I've been kinda lonesome ever since my boyfriend and I split. Amber, I wish you were here for me. You sound like a really special person that I wish I knew better. Well, I'd better close for now. Happy shitting, Amber. Talk to you later and stay sweet.
Punk Rock Girl
Teddy Bear: Point taken. When I said can I get in trouble, I meant like getting fired, but I see what you're saying. I know most of the guys downstairs by name, even if I don't really KNOW them. If I didn't feel safe, believe me, I'm not stupid enough to do what I did in unfamiliar territory. I'd never do that in some boiler room of someplace I'd never been. Thanks for your concern. The problem is, doing it in front of people I know takes the thrill away. But maybe it was a bit irresponsible. I'll think twice before doing it again. :-)
Bryian: Yes, that picture is absolutely real. It's disgusting. Try looking up "disemboweled weight-lifter" or something on Google. You might be able to find it. I deleted the pic almost immediately, so I no longer have the URL.
Well I had to forego wiping my ass on Friday. I was walking to my subway station when my guts churned something fierce! I bolted into the nearest STARBUCKS and into the little girls room. I sat on the toilet and crapped out a semi-soft load and several squirts. I caught my breath and went for the TP. Empty roll. No paper towels. Shit! Literally. I got up and pulled up my pants (luckily, I chose regular underpants Friday) and walked out. I knocked on the men's room door. When no one answered, I poked my head in and saw that there were no paper products in there either! Dammit!
I looked at my watch, and realized I'd miss my train if I didn't hurry. I ran out into the street with sticky poop mashed between my buns. Icky-poo.
I made my train with a minute to spare and stood the whole way home, which, under the circumstances, was fine with me. I was home in twenty minutes and walked up the street to my apartment. I walked inside to a ringing phone, and answered it. It was my boyfriend. I said I couldn't talk, I took a shit a half hour ago and couldn't wipe my ass. I explained the circumstances. He asked why I hadn't simply grabbed some napkins from the self-serve counter. I rolled my eyes at what a moron I was for not thinking of that, said goodbye and went in my bathroom to wipe.
It took SIX wipes to get all the crap off, but luckily my bulbous buttocks protected my underpants from getting streaked.
It's these little dramas that make life interesting.
Hello to everyone! Peace!
Fellow toiletstoolers, I need your opinions. On Saturday night my wife and I were watching a video and when it ended, I took some dirty plates to the kitchen. We could hear a party going on at the next door neighbors, but we didn't pay much attention. (It sounded like a good one, though.) But as I happened to look out into the backyard, I saw a guy, maybe in his early 20s, walk into and across the yard from the neighbors. (There's no fence on that side.) I kept watching to see what he was doing. He headed toward the fence on the far side and started taking a piss. I turned on the light, went out, and told him that our yard isn't a urinal, please use the toilet at the party. He just gave me a blank stare (probably drunk.) I turned out the light and thought that was the end of it.
But, no, when I went back to the kitchen sink, here came another guy into the yard, heading for a tree. He was followed by a girl who was headed for the same spot until she saw the guy and apologized to him. They were followed by yet another guy, but this one, to my amazement, walked right up to our back porch and started peeing on the steps. Now *I* was pissed! I turned on the light again, went out and told them all bluntly that this isn't the woods, and to go use their hosts' toilet. They all said nothing, but one gave me a really menacing look. I wondered how many had already come over to pee before I noticed.
Obviously, they weren't going to listen to me, and this might go on and even get nasty, not to mention what the yard, steps, and fence would smell like in warmer weather. So I called the police. When they came, the party tamed down, but then quickly picked up again. We didn't care about that. At least we didn't see any more backyard urinators.
Do you think, under the circumstances, that I went too far in calling the police? Or was I on firm - if wet - ground? Thanks for your valued opinions.
Another Movie Guy
I remember another brief pooping scene in a movie. In the movie MO' MONEY with Damon Wayans, there's a scene in which he and his brother (Marlon Wayans) are in a jail cell with a bunch of other inmates. One of the guys is on the toilet. Just as he shits (from the sound of it a really nasty one) a guy next to him tells him there's no toilet paper. After a moment, the guy on the toilet asks Marlon Wayans if he needs his hat, which Marlon holds on to protectively. The guy's out of luck and has to spend the rest of his stay with a shitty asshole. That would suck.
BeachNut: Wow! Thanks for all that great advice! Now that summer is almost here, me and my boyfriend have plans to go camping and also doing several day hikes. I'll do just what you suggest. I have just assumed that he's a bit uptight about bathroom functions because he once got a bit upset when I walked in on him while he was on the toilet. On a few other occasions, I needed something from the bathroom while he was there taking a crap and I knocked on the door asking if I could get whatever it was. He told me to hold on and that he'd be out in a minute. He tends to be constipated, however, and that minute often drags on for 15 minutes! He's less concerned about me being on the toilet while he's in the bathroom (a bit of a double standard there, I guess?). I often leave the bathroom door ajar and he sometimes comes in while I'm peeing, but never when I'm taking a dump. He'll brush his teeth or whatever. He's otherwise a real cool guy and I'm going to work on him ! to see if he'll be more relaxed in the future. I love him very much and I find everything about him a big turn on. I'd love to be able to be with him while he's on the toilet. That would just make our relationship more complete. I'll keep you posted about any progress that I make with him during the summer.
Regarding my grade school restroom experiences sitting across from Bill:
Bill was a very tall and thin guy, even in the 5th grade. He was so thin, he HAD to sit toward the back of the toilet with his legs spread to keep from almost falling in! These toilet seats had opened fronts and were the larger size seats. In the lower grades, K-3, the restrooms at this school had much smaller and lower seats. For Grades 4-6 the toilets were adult sized toilets. As for his shitting technique, Bill sat straight up, legs wide apart. His male plumbing did block the view a bit, but not much. Remember, this is elementary school and most kids are not very developed in that department yet. After my first shit sitting opposite him, I had several other similar experiences watching him SLOWLY drop the skinniest, longest turds imaginable. He farted very little during the process and would always finish (after 20 minutes or so) with a nice long pee while still seated. Then he would get half-way standing up to wipe. His finised product looked like an 18-24! inch snake coiled in the john. I hope you can get the picture now.
Loved Althea's story about inspecting her friends' shits. I had such a satisfying experience two days ago on those lines. I've got several friends who live within 50 miles of the city and I often go for Saturday night. I leave home early in the morning and stop off for breakfast. On Saturday I stopped at a Holiday Inn with a nice clean coffee shop - and a ladies room with four stalls. Coffee and toast, and time for a shit! All stalls full (everyone doing the same thing at that hour I figure) so I waited outside. I could hear someone trying to work the flush without success, and the door opened. A sweet-looking girl of about 23 came out. She was tiny, 4 foot 10 and very slim. "Afraid the flush doesn't work," she said embarrassed. It was pretty smelly. "Can't wait," I replied. The toilet-bowl seemed pretty full and I delicately took off the tp that concealed the load. Three huge turds, six or seven inches but really thick. My first reaction was 'how could anyone s! o small' do anything so enormous?' Then I sat down and with great satisfaction did my bit in adding to the pile! But I wasn't in her league - two or three slushy logs. However all in all I haven't enjoyed a bm so much for ages. AND when I came to press the button the flush worked first time!
love you all, Anthea
Here's a short survey I've thought of:
guys & gals, do you to the following while pooping?
1. Do you read. If so, what do you read?
2. Do you ever talk on the phone?
3. Do you look at your shit in the toilet?
4. Do you listen to music or watch TV?
1. Do you read. If so, what do you read? Yes, always. Often I look at old yearbooks. Sometimes I read magazines or letters I get in the mail.
2. Do you ever talk on the phone? Very rarely. If so, its only to close friends.
3. Do you look at your shit in the toilet? Always
4. Do you listen to music or watch TV? I used to, but my sereo and TV are now too far away.
Just some responses...nothing else interesting to report. Sorry :(
To Bryian: Glad you liked my poop story. My original version was better, as something weird happened early on, but the moderators must have thought it inappropriate, as it didn't show up. I guessed what I wrote that killed the original post, and took that part out. Anyway, I didn't get caught, and even if I did, who could do anything about it? The land isn't privately owned by anybody. It's the woods. Anyway, usually I am careful to go where not many people will be able to see what I'm doing (unless it's an absolute emergency). I currently live with my parents who are not home during the day. Want to move out soon and into someplace with my girlfriend, but can't afford it while being a full-time college student. But I never want to live alone.
To Amber: Glad you liked my latest story as well. I'm glad I came to this site, too, for I had plenty of stories to spew out...LOL. And it's fun reading many of the posts here, too, to see where others come from and where and how they do it and what they produce and all that good shit. To your golf experience, did you have to piss or shit (or both)?? How far were the toilets away? The golf course I live near has only one bathroom hut among the greens as far as I know, but it's filthy. Liked the driveway/shoebox story! How old is Chelsea?
Dat's all folks for now! If any of you have become addicted to my stories, there may be a lull for a bit before a new one is posted. Have to create a situation first! Most of my other ones from the past can't be posted here in full detail. Happy goings all.
Hello all! I have not posted in a while, as I have been a bit busy as of lately. I did not poop yesterday (Sunday) and I knew last night that today would be a good one. About 8 AM I was sitting here at my desk at work and I started getting that full feeling. I went down the hall to the men's room and went in. It was deserted, so I took the first stall. I went in and dropped my pants and my cool boxers with pictures of cars on them. I settled in for a good, easy poop with no pushing. In about 10 seconds, the cleaning lady knocked. Bummer!!! I had to hurry, as I was sure she was standing outside waiting on me to leave. I began to push, and a couple of solid turds emerged, maybe a foot long together. I then took a long satisfying pee. I had to wipe a lot, as a mushy bit of poop would not fall off on its own. I then quickly washed up and headed out. The sign on the door said CLOSED FOR CLEANING but the lady was nowhere in sight. I smelled it up pretty good for he! r, so I hope she waited a while before coming in.......
I'm 21 yrs. old, brown hair, 6'0, 190 lbs. Last saturday night, me and three of my friends decided to have a boys night at a nightclub. Me and my friends Rod, Tom, and Louis were having a fun night dancing and drinking. I was dancing and all of a sudden I felt a gassy feeling in my stomach and butt. I told my friends I needed the restroom, so we all decided to go together so we wouldn't get separated. When we got to the restroom, there was a long line outside the door we had to wait in. Thank god I was able to hold it and not poop in my undies. The line became smaller, so we were able to get inside the restroom. There were 7 urinals, 5 stalls, and a long row of sinks and mirrors across from the stalls. Rod and Tom had to pee so they waited in line at the urinals. Louis just went to the mirror to check his face. All the stalls were used, so I had to wait for one to open. A toilet flushed and a middle aged guy came out of the far stall. I walked into the stall and! saw what a mess it was. The whole bathroom was disgusting, but this was the worst part of it. Toilet paper wads and cigarette butts were scattered all over the floor in my stall and the other stalls. Scribbling and writing was all over the walls and the door. It smelled like poo and little pee spots were found on the toilet seat.
I wiped the seat with toilet paper, pulled my jeans and black bikini panties down to my ankles, and parked my butt on the toilet seat. I let out a loud stinky fart followed by a large wave of diarrhea. After diarrhea and farting for about a minute, I had to pee for about 30 seconds. I started farting and letting out runny poo again. After about 5 minutes, Tom and Rod were finished. They knocked on the door and asked if everything was ok. I said, "I'm still going guys.", so they went to the sinks. Then I had some soft poo come out. After grunting and pushing only a few small turds, I wiped with what little toilet paper I had left. I pulled up my jeans and undies and flushed. I joined the others at the sinks to wash my hands. We started chatting while I checked myself in the mirror. We asked Louis if he had to use the toilet at all and he said no, so we finally left the mens room. We drank for another hour then we left and headed to my place. They decided to ! spend the night at my place so they wouldn't drink and drive. Tom and Rod consecutively went into my bathroom to change into their pajamas. After I changed my clothes, Louis came running past me straight into the bathroom. I asked what that was all about and Tom and Rod shrugged their shoulders. Louis shut the door and I heard clothes coming off and the sound of his butt hitting the toilet seat. I then heard a huge fart against the toilet seat followed by massive waves of diarrhea. I heard Louis pee for 45 seconds straight followed by 2 or 3 gassy farts. More diarrhea hit the can and I heard Louis in pain making a big "Ohhhh!!!" sound. He started grunting and letting out more runny poop. After about 15 minutes, Louis tore off some toilet paper and began to wipe 3-5 times. I heard him change his clothes. He then flushed and sprayed air freshener. He opened the door and came out. He gave an embarrassing look as we stared at him. We told him we could hear him take! a dump in there. He finally admitted that he had to go for hours, but he didn't like going poop in a dirty club restroom with other guys. We said that we're all guys here and pooping around other guys is perfectly normal. He thanked us and we let it all go and had some fun afterwards watching movies. If anyone has a similar story, let me know.
Monday, April 14, 2003
John Q Public
PRG, that was a revolting thing to hear to say the least. I heard a similar story about a guy who flew a dive-bomber during WW2. What happened was he came out of a dive, and he thought he crapped his pants, and it was about 5 inches of his bowl. YOUCH!!!!
Ragine Uriphile, I also love to hear and see girls peeing, especialy when they perform as good as my sister, cousen or gf do. I guess I became so fascinated by women peeing because of my condition. I also think, as I mentioned so many times before, that women in general are better endowed then men when it comes to bladder control. This has been confirmed through real life experiences, and by ALL the 'water sports" adult sites that I have visited. On one particular site, where contests are held and stats are posted, the women ON AVERAGE are twice as strong as the men when it comes to holding. I also visit a number of diaper related web sites, and medical sites because of my condition, and it is a proven fact that boys take longer to toileet train, and in several major cities where bed-wetters were surveyed, the boys outnumbered the girls 2 to 1. It was also found out that stasticly, boys are more prone to bathroom accidents then girls are.
Finaly, in my own family, it's the women who seem to never have to go to the bathroom.
On the adult sites, where they show pics of both men and women peeing, the women have allways had stronger, wider and longer lasting pee streams then the men. In one pic, they had a guy and an 18-year0old girl standing right next to each other peeing. The guys stream was like a string, or about normal, while the girls was thick, and projected out further then his.
To Althea: Liked your story, whats this about a 16 y.o boy not toilet trained?
To Amber: Loved your story about your friend
To Black Chaos: I haven't seen that commercial...sounds cool
To BeachNut: Sounds like some cool places you've peed and pooped!
To Claudia: I Loved your story
To Luke: I loved your story about shitting at the mall with your roomate..was that bathroom empty?
To Dreamer: Loved your story about your neighbor
To Pooper: Liked your story about that guy wanting to watch you
To nicolette: Enjoyed your story
To Sloppy Sally: Loved your story about eating indian food and having to poop afterwards
To Ivan the Terrible: Loved your story about watching your mom pee and poop
To Richard the Turd: Liked your story
I got a story for you, you all might need. I left work today and i kinda had to pee. I got down the road when i decided to try and pee my pants. The thought instantly got me hard, therefore i couldn't pee. I wanted to do this cause i knew i'd be alone when i got home. I got home, get out of the car and i get to the door and im like im gonna pee my self now. I instantly started peeing my pants. I was soaking wet. I didn't pee a whole lot but enough. I hadn't peed for a good 4 hours. I put my clothes in the laundry. I needed to change any way.
Gotta go bye
i wolld like to respond to "somebody's" post of yesterday. it's obvious you are not up to date on our environmental issues. in my state (WA) in the N/W corner of our country, anyone caught "dumping" or even peeing in a waterway would be subject to arrest, with a heavy fine and or jail,
which i fully support. you mentioned how it "used to be" many years ago. well then we had a shorter life span due in part to disease caused by this, and many 3rd world countries who practice these unsanitary habits also have low life expectancies. i'm 45 y/o and have lived longerthan many of these country's average life span. alsorain water is 100% pure h2o, no piss, shit or other pollutants, unless its picked up in the air (acid rain, e.g.). also, the frogs, fish, ducks, beavers, etc, do not have the pathogens in their feces that humans & domestic animals have. that's what causes e coli, cholera, salmonella & other deadly diseases, not its chemical composition. so please dont take this lightly, you & others (danielle, alexis, beach nut, et al) need to help keep our environment clean & our country beautifull. i think PRG would agree with me. i love my country & every to be safe. god bless america! thanks, &take care. kybo. teddy bear
Your posts about peeing and pooping your pants are very arousing. I just somehow wish I could get my wife to try it. The closest we ever came was when we crossed the Bay Bridge Tunnel one day (23 miles) and she had told me that she had to go just after we left the motel. I begged her to just raise her butt off the seat and go in her pants. I promised her I would take her straight home and clean her up and bathe her. No deal. The poor thing held it until she was in tears, refusing to let nature have its way. Had it been me, there would have been a nice little baseball attached to my ass crack long before I would allow myself to be doubled over in pain trying to stop the inevitable. We did have an incident last weekend, where she was sick and could not even get out of bed. She had diarreha and crapped all over herself then called me at church to come home because she was sick. I threw her dirty panties in the laundry and took a washcloth to her beautiful rear and bathed it! . (She does have the most beautiful rear in the world.. that's why I married her 35 years ago and that hasn't changed.) I hope we're getting closer to her being willing to do it willingly! Mabye some day!
TOM(optional): Those were good times. I was raised in the 1960's. I never moved my bowels at school until 7th grade and then daily in high school. In elementary school, I would have to go to the bathroom to urinate in the afternoon. I would find a girl or girls talking to another girl while she would be behind a closed stall door moving her bowels. Or two girls would be talking while they would be sitting on the toilet. Sometimes I would have to wait for an available stall. I got to know them. They became my friends. One of them said, "Hurry up, Kerry. Althea has to to go." I could see Kerry's pink panties around her ankles under the door. When she finished, she wiped herself, pulled up her panties, let down her dress and slip and came out. She did not flush. She left behind a long 12 inch stool. Another time, at another girls bathroom session another girl, Louise was on the toilet while talking with her friends. When she heard my voice she opened the stall door, her white p! anties were at her ankles and her skirt and slip were bunched around her waist. She said that she was finished. She left behind a five dark brown stools. The next day, I went to urinate and Louise followed me in saying that she had to go badly. She had her hand under her skirt, pulling it up, slammed the door. I heard her pulling up her slip and pulling down her panties. She let out a sigh and I heard a long wave of chunks expel. Then she urinated long. I was in the next stall urinating. We were talking about school and the neighborhood.
onsite: 10 y/o boy has a problem. My cousin's 16 y/o still is not toilet trained.
MPP: Defecation in the subways is done probably by homeless people, but also by desperate passengers. It is done on platforms, stairways, at the edge of platforms in the tunnels, against walls, girders and even in subway cars. This is a wicked and disgusting act that is unsanitary.
Now for some work related adventures.
In the early 90's, I worked in a number of different locations. I would occasionally work in a store/office that was next to a reception area where 3 or 4 women worked. Instead of using their own restroom, it was more convenient for them to open the sliding door and use the one in my work space. My first day in this office, an attractive, tall and shapely brunette walked into my office. She smiled while cupping her bladder and uttered the words "small tank". She then went and peed for about 20 seconds. Two or three other women would occasionally enter my office space to use the restroom. I greatly enjoyed listening to them spray. What I found annoying was when one of them would enter the restroom when I was in the front helping a customer. My attention was always divided. Fortunately, the store wasn't too busy.
There was one "special' girl that would work in the reception area only occasionally. She was a light haired brunette and quite gorgeous. Whenever she came back to use my restroom, however, she never peed or shit. She would attend to other needs and come back out. Then one day, I overheard her telling the other girls that "I don't have to go often, but when I do, I really have to go". Soon afterwards, she walked into my restroom. With my heart racing in eager anticipation of a long copiously gushing waterfall, she closed the restroom door. Finally the moment I was waiting for; but AAARGHHHH! The cursed phone, which rings about 2-3 times a day, and located far from the restroom, happened to ring right as she walked in the restroom. Tense, and with extreme anger and frustration, I had to answer it. The person on the other end went on forever, as I tried to keep my composure. I was talking to this miserable SOB while trying to hear the action in the toilet bowl. I coul! d hear some long lasting gushing, but I was too far away, and my attention was too divided to get the most out of it, My aggravation at this pitiful caller,s timing was too much to bear. Once again I was teased by nature. She never peed in my office restroom again while I was there.
I soon noticed that the women began to use my restroom far less frequently. I believe I know why. One day, one of the woman walked into my restroom. She walked out a few seconds later while giving me a disturbed look. I didn't know what her problem was. I then walked into the restroom only to find that my fecal log was still in the bowl. I flushed as always, but it didn't go down. This woman must have thought I was a slob and that I intentionally did not bother to flush the toilet. It is probably not a coincidence that afterwards, visits to my restroom were rare. She must have told the others about me. Therefore, do to an ironic occurence that was not my fault, I was then denied the beautiful sound of female urine spraying into my bowl. What a shame! There was one exception, however. This tall brunette with the "small tank" did come in to use my restroom once more to my surprise. She released the longest pee I had heard her take. It was probably at least a minute lon! g. Her tank was not that small after all.
I also occasionally worked in another office/store with an attractive blond receptionist. The restroom door was right next to the work space so that you could hear any action. The problem was, this receptionist never had to pee. I worked with her numerous times from 8:AM till 6:PM. Not once had she entered that restroom. One day I got brave and asked her how she went all day without a restroom break. She exclaimed that she only went twice a day in the morning and evening. I began to fantasize about the gushers she must release when she goes.
Then one day, when another unattractive lady was working with us, the blond receptionist finally walked into the restroom, I couln't believe it. Those of you who have read my previous posts already know that my heart started to race. Unfortunately, since this was one of the few days when there was someone else working with us, I could not stand by the door to hear any action. I was about ten feet away and heard nothing.
I did have an embarrasing incident at this store. One day, I was working with both the regular store manager along with this same blond receptionist. This store manager also was amazed that our receptionist never had to pee. I do not recall the details, but the receptionist made some comment indicating that she might need to use the restroom. Unfortunately, the store manager asked me to walk outside to the trash dumpster to get rid of some stuff. For obvious reasons, I did not want to be gone long. I DID NOT want to leave the store. In my haste, I walked quickly in a strange looking skipping motion to expedite my trip to the dumpster. I then walked back in an equally strange looking hurried fashion. When I got back, they both laughed while inquiring " what was that all about." I didn't know they could see me through the blinds. I must have looked like an ass the way I was walking. If they only knew the real reason why I was walking in this hurried bizarre fashion.! She never did use the restroom that day. Unless she indeed went during the 3-4 minutes I was out.
Next, my new female boss finds out I'm a urophile.
Now for some extreme embarrassment.
One day, when working at the store with the blond receptionist who never peed, I had the opportunity to meet our new district manager. I will never forget the first time I met her. She was an attractive well built blond woman in her late thirties. She came in looking
very professional in her business suit. She shook my hand and quickly introduced herself while we were both standing in front of the restroom. She then hurriedly walked in the restroom. I enjoyed listening to her spray into the bowl for about a minute. Needless to say, I always thought about this initial encouter when I would see her.
One day, she was visiting another store that I was working at, although I did not yet know she was there. Thinking that I was alone, I muttered out loud to myself some references to her peeing. This was a way for me to deal with the tension. I then looked over a partition and saw her sitting there working. Unless she is deaf, she obviously heard everything I was saying and fantasizing about. What an embarrasing disaster. Neither one of us ever said anything about this. I did notice afterwards, however, that she would only use a restroom in close proximity to me when I was busy with a customer. In short, she pretended she never heard me , and I pretended I didn't think she heard me. Fortunately, she left the company after about 6 months. Imagine the job referral she would have given me.
Another difficult experience occurred back in 1980 when I took a college course entitled " Comparative Animal Physiology." We had to do an experiment that was definetly not compatible with my urophilia.
The purpose of this anxiety inducing experiment was to compare the excretory system of human beings with salamanders. The class was required to drink an extreme amount of water every 20 minutes for about three or four trials. We then had to pee out the water into a beaker and measure our volume. I was thanking my lucky stars that there were no gorgeous women in the class, although there were a couple decent ones. My two partners were both women. One partner was an above average looking brunette with long wavy hair. The other was a pettite Fillipino girl. The Filipino girl and myself were writhing in pain and felt like we were going to burst. The other brunette did not feel desperate. My bladder is so small and sensitive that I could not wait 20 minutes. I felt like I was ready to burst after 15 minutes. The discomfort became extreme enough that I had to cheat and pee early. I excreted an embarrasing 250 ml. This is less than 10% of what some less desperate wom! en can excrete. The Fillipino girl was able to hold on, but she did not do much better than me. She also released about 250 ml. The brunette who displayed no desperation excreted 356 ml.
The professor joked that the volume winner would recieve a " gold medal",
It should come as no surprise to folks like myself and John Q. Public who are fully aware of female bladder superiority, that the "gold medal" winner was a petite older woman who appeared to weigh about 100 lbs. She peed out over 500 ml.
What I have read on this forum and other related sites seems to contradict what I had read in my human physiology textbook in 1980. The textbook stated that the human bladder can hold "nearly a liter" and that once the bladder reaches the 800-900ml mark in volume ,that it is "essential to urinate." How would the authors of this book explain the women who claim to pee out 2 liters? Are the authors wrong? Are these women rare exceptions? I would like some other opinions.
Finally, I was disappointed that there were not more respondants to my "peeing freely" survey posted on pg. 1100. I only received two responses. The second respondant also incorrectly attributed my post to the first respondant. I hope that some of you will go back and take a look at the survey and give me some feedback.
In my next post, I will discuss how the toilet humor of a couple Los Angeles disk jockeys back in the early 90's, again drove me and my urophilia over the edge and back into therapy.
Adrian, In answer to your query, yea, I have pooped and peed many times with other nurses, in a few instances with male nurses too.
I wrote of an urgent pee I had to have whilst on duty on the ward but it seems not to have been published, perhaps it has got lost in the post.
One particular instance of me pooping with another nurse springs to mind. It happened over a year ago but it brings to my mind the remark Sheila (South Wales) made about the vulnerability of women on the toilet, or perhaps she meant the closeness it can bring people together. Anyone in nursing will know that trainee nurses are the dogsbodies of all all other on the ward, the fetching and the carrying and any unpleasant chore is always handed to the 'junior.' On this occasion I had ben tied to the sluice room cleaning a variety of things. mostly bed-pans, its an old hospital and the throwaway type are not used, at least not on my ward. It was about ten, ten-thirty in the morning and my belly had been giving warning signs for at least thiry minutes and now I knew it was 'poopie' time for me. I told the senior nurse I had to go to the toilet. The staff toilet is just outside the ward and is entered by using a card and entering a number code. I went into the toilet, t! here are three stalls and I could see that the middle one was occupied. There is a small gap between the door and the jam, about half an inch, and through it I could see the familiar green uniform of a nurse, bunched up at her waist and a glimpse of stockinged, suspendered thigh, but I could not see who it was. I went into the end stall nearest the door and bolted it. As I was lifting my skirt and sliding my panties down the nurse in the next stall pooped violently with a loud plop, plop, plop, splatter, splatter, splatter, into the pan. I heard her give a deep sigh and gasp as though the pooping was giving her pain. Then my own belly was aching and I started to pee, breathing deeply, I bent forward and strained hard, I farted loudly, a deep, hollow sound that echoed in the room and from my open ass cheeks a splash of bulky, but loose poop splattered into the pan, I relaxed a little then, I was breathing hard from the effort but I knew there was a lot more poop to come! before I was finished and I needed to relax for a minute or so. The nurse in the next stall was straining again, moaning audible as she pushed, I heard her shoes scraping on the tiled floor and then another loud burst of poop splashing into the pan. I couldn't resist saying,
"Wow, that sounded like a real birth."
"Like you wouldn't believe, the nurse gasped, "Oh, I got a really bad guts."
I recognised the voice, I knew who was in the next stall. It was the woman I had christened the sister from hell, senior sister Anderson. If ever I had ever wanted something bad to happen to anyone it was this woman who seemed to delight in making my life a misery. I heard her poop again with another rush splattering into the pan at the same time my belly rolled and I pooped again.
"Ohhh . . ." this time I groaned involuntarily as my asshole burned from the poop bursting from me.
"You must be relieved to get shot of that," sister Anderson sympathised.
At that moment all the anger I had for that woman vanished. Here was someone having the father and mother of a poop herself and finding the time to comfort me.
"Yeah," I managed to say, between bending forward, holding my belly and pooping. For the next fifteen minutes or so we seemed to be matching each other as we pooped and pooped like there was never going to a tomorrow. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, I was done. I reached for the toilet paper and, lifting my bum from the seat, I wiped my ass from back to front. I was dirty and I needed to wipe four more times before I was clean, finally I wiped my vagina lips and I was finished. Flushing the toilet, I had to do this three times, I went to the wash-basing to wash my hands. I hear nurse Anderson at last beginning to wipe and when she was through she joined me at the wash-basin. It was no longer senior and junior nurses now and we became firm friends from that day on. Many, many times since we have had a buddy dump, in fact we tend to look for each other when we are ready to go to the toilet.