My SO (significant other) has, since she was 15 or so, had a problem holding her pee, which over the years has led to a variety of emergency "I gotta pee right now" situation, to a variety of accidents, from wetting her bed, if infrequently, to frequent dribbles in her panties, to some major public accidents. I've loved each and every one, I must admit.
My SO tells me that since high school she had a problem holding her pee, especially the closer she got to a toilet and relief, the more difficult it became to 'hold on'. The would often, on the way home form school, have to run the last 100 yards to her house, yet just as she would pull up her dress or pull down her pants, she'd dribble in her panties, or more. At first she'd change her panties,but it happened so often that she soon gave that up and would keep them on. Perhaps a year or so after these constant near misses began, she relates, she had her first major accident.
Getting the last school bus at the last minute, she no sooner sat down than she was dying to pee. The trip was only 15 minutes, but she knew that she'd never make it home. Her legs tightly crossed, and later her hand in her crotch holding tight against her panties over her dress on a warm spring day, she barely made it without dribbling to her stop. Then a four block walk...and she only made it one block. She said she could feel her muscles convulsing, and then she frooze: and all of a sudden, after a moment of nothing, a total, uncontrolable, completely soaking flood...her panties, dress, socks, shoes, totally wet. A large puddle formed, and across the steet (a residential one) a man walked by, clearly aware of her wetting herself.
My SO is not the type of person to be embarassed or modest, although she dislikes her accidents. She finished peeing, walked home, showered and changed, no one knowing the different, except, as far as she knew, the man across the street.
When we fist met she told me this tory, and I loved it. She had wet her panties and pants on purpose for me a number of times since, but then decided she didn't like it.
But that's not stopped her accidents, as I said.
Recently, I was driving and had to pee. Since there were no restrooms for miles, I pulled my car off the side of the road, walked around and opened the passenger's side door (for privacy), and squatted and peed there. Unfortunately, as everyone knows, peeing on concrete causes severe splashing, but I didn't have a choice since there was a fence next to the road which blocked access to the woods. The puddle I made was unbelievably large.
A quick note after I've read all of these. I've always been interested in peeing (not really pooping), from the time I was a kid until now. I certainly remember times I wet my pants (at home and in public a few times). But mostly I remember the girls (then, later, women) who wet their pants, or barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Anyway, most of the experiences people have written about I've either experienced with a woman (or a girl), or have heard about, from dreaming about having to pee and ending up wetting the bed and panties; to waiting in line accidents; to in cars; in convenience stores and shoping malls, etc.
While I don't particularly find someone being embarassed in itself sexually exciting, embarassment about having to pee or wetting oneself is exciting for me. Clearly something about early cultural taboos, etc.
More soon; loved most of the stories.
Know what I like to do? I like to wait around restrooms and wait for women to leave the door unlocked, then walk in on them while they are sitting on the toilet. I have seen plenty of good sights doing this. Few women are embarrassed about being seen on the toilet.
I see someone else has noticed that when you use the train loo, it all ends up on the track. Some of the trains are like that on the line I travel on, and I have flushed in a station on a number of occasions, even though you are not supposed to. It just seems so "naughty", and gives me a thrill that my poo will be left lying where other people can see it. I think the writer of the previous post is right that sometimes you can be seen through the frosted glass, but that is probably only likely after dark on our trains (UK). I have never really understood why it is that we try to hide these things from other people, as if we are ashamed of what is just natural. I am usually quite proud of my poos, and I secretly hope that people will admire what they see on the track and think "Gosh! I wish I could do one like that!"
It happended on a train in Germany some months ago. I suddenly felt a strong urge to have a BM. It was just before I the train was arriving at the endstation where I was going to change to another train. I decided to go the restroom at the end of the car. When I sat on toilet the train slowed down and stopped. I was then finished and raised to wipe. After pulling up my pants I flushed and went out of the car. When I came out I saw that my next train should leave from the same plattform so I just stood there. Suddenly I discovered a terrible thing. All the paper and crap had been flused just down to the rails from the toilet. Some heavy brown things were laying there and could clearly be seen by everyone even though it was dark. And even more terrible I saw a man that probably had been standing there when I flushed too. And probably he had been seeing me standing partly naked wiping myself through the glass of the restroom as the train had stopped when I finished. And I ! have often seen that it is easy even to see details through frosted glass. Oh guess how embarrassed I felt when imagining that he might have seen both my bottom and my front and the process of wiping, and not to think of the poop that was lying there just in front of us. When I realized this I think he must have understood because he said with a smile: Es ist doch ganz natürlich, which means it is quite natural. I just nodded and flushed in my face, I think. He should travel with the same train as me, but he sat down in another car. But he went off at my homestation. Twice I have met him later on the station. Then we just have smiled to eachother. Now I don't feel it that embarrassing any more. It is true what he said, it is quite natural. I have often seen crap lying on the rails even at the stations and sometimes I have also seen others sitting on toilet behind those frosted glasses. Last summer I was biking in France with two friends. And sometimes I saw their poop in the b! ushes where we rested so it should no be anything to be ashamed for.
Last weekend my family was staying the whole day in the woods attending a charityBBQ. There was a lot of people there, about 100 I guess. Suddenly my mother had disappeared. I asked the others where she had gone. she had gone to buy some icecream they told me. I went over there too. As she was not there I went back. But suddenly I saw her going into the bushes. Before I catched up with her I saw that she was pulling down her pants. I stopped. With her pants bunched around her knees she bent forward leaning her elbows on her knees. I was quite surprised to see that she was pooping. I was 5o ft away but could clearly see it all. After wiping she pulled up the pants and went away. Afterwards I could see that she had pooped quite a lot. Two long thick logs. She must have had a terrible urge to crap. I have never seen her doing it outdoor before. The same day I also saw another woman pooping in the bushes. It was an older woman (60+). She squatted and made a lot of small round poops.
The other day I was in a nice bookstore during lunch when I felt the urge to dump comming on. At first I didn't think too much about it, but it rapidly became more insistant. My choices were: 1. to check out the restroom at the bookstore, or 2. to wait until I got back to the office and then head sraight to the toilet. I deceided to check out the bookstores bathroom and see if it was suitable for dumping. The restroom was rather large, but had only one urnial and one stall. The stall was not occupied, so I checked it out. It was large with the door being up front and to the side, with the toilet in the rear. The large door had a fancy handle and a push button lock on it. By now I really had to go! So I went in, locked the door and went over to the toilet. There was one of those big toilet paper holders on the wall that contained that really cheap one ply paper.( I hate cheap one ply paper!) There wasn't much choice now, so I unbuckled my belt, opened my pants and pulled them down to just above my knees. It didn't take long for the poop to start. This was going to be a monster! I could tell it was staying in one piece, and just kept comming. I turned around to peek at it, and WOW, it must have been a good 15 inches! Now came the most difficult part, wiping! This was a rather soft poo and it left my ass pretty messy. All I had to work with was this terrible one ply tissue. Yuk! It took many wipings to get cleaned up, including flushing, and catching some clean water on the paper to wash with. Finally I was finished, and felt a lot better, but I wouldn't have wanted to be the next person to come in there, as there was quite a smell!
I need plenty of time when I go to do my business in the toilet. If I have less than 15 minutes, I find I need to go again later in the day (sometimes only an hour later). I have a good reason for not wishing to shit more than once a day. I have hemerrhoids. Normally they do not trouble me, but wiping my arse-hole more than once a day can lead to soreness and bleeding. Soreness can be avoided by washing my anus thoroughly after a BM.
My turds come out in several installments. The first is usually large, soft and easily pushed out. But that over, it is fatal to assume that that is all. I always have one, and often two further istallments, and often they require more effort, so I grunt and/or breathe heavily. I always flush between each of these installments, as it minimizes the smell.
It's true that a lot of women are inhibited about talking about bowel functions, which considering how much some of them talk about reproductive functions always amazes me. My wife is very reticent about anal matters, and it disappoints me. Many men like to talk about their bowels, at least with their nearest and dearest (and often with anyone). Also of course a lot of us want to talk about it, but feel inhibited, and that is why forums such as this fulfil a valuable function. I did the Sitting on the Toilet survey last week. I would love you to publish the data you get from the survey.
That is the problem with the survey. It gets 60+ hits a day and averages less than 1 response.
Most responses are from men and seem fairly homogenous.
Female responses are usually from women looking for WS or similar content. This skews the results because most women are terribly inhibited, won't touch the survey, and as a result can't get counted.
Other surveys have a 95% completion rate as oposed to 2-3% on the sitting on the toilet survey
Sitting on the toilet is one of my most favorite activities. My three favorite pleasures are orgasm, an enema and a good BM. Two of these pleasures certainly involve the toilet and occasionally all three involve the toilet. I love to start the day with a good BM. It feels so good coming out when its long and thick and not too hard. The empty feeling afterward is so great and it usually lasts all day.
Sometimes I don't have such a good BM. Usually this is a sign I might not have a BM at all the next day. I don't like laxatives. They are so unpredictable and I don't like the way they make you feel before they work. Besides when I need relief, I want it immediately, so I take an enema. Sometimes I take an enema for the pure pleasure of it even if I don't need it to have a BM. Usually I take 2 quarts of warm soapy water. I do this 3 or 4 times.
Some of you are saying that sounds gross or you would never do that. Well let me tell you, if having a good BM feels good to you, then you will probably like an enema. Please be open minded enough to try it one time.
When I was a teenager, I worked in an old building as a janitor. It was a dispensary for the schools in a pretty large area. The bathrooms were old fashioned and had mens and womens back to back, with a maintenance cubicle behind the stalls, and a door that went between them. I got ahold of the key to the padlock, and for a whole summer spent whatever time I could behind the womens stalls looking over. I remember one secretary in a yellow dress. I had seen her before, and hoped she'd come in when I was there. She came in, sat down, and sat for a minute or two, then leaned forward and strained. She grunted four times and dropped two turds, with a big ohhh in relief after each one squeezed out. She wiped her ass five times, and it was a soft dump, since the toilet paper was covered, and big too, because when she leaned way forward to wipe, I could see one large poop and a second smaller one in the water. The smell was getting intense when she stood up. Nice ass. I made a ! point of being so I could speak to her later, and she was real sharp. Kind of soft spoken and sexy, with a neat impish look. She smelled good, and it was a real buzz to think of how different I had seen and smelled her about half an hour before. I dated her for the summer, and never mentioned what I'd seen, but always thought about it.
I know of a building (building A) that sits across the street from another building (building B). From the second story of building A, you can look out the window and into the window of the womens restroom of building B(also on the second floor). The window is of frosted glass and can only be seen through from the outside.The window is big enough to allow me sight of the toilet. I have taken many of lunch breaks and seen many women sitting on the toilet. I wonder if any of these ladies know that they can be seen through this window. If they did, would some not care?
My wife and I were flying back from a vacation yesterday when something very embarrasing happened. . The night before we each had a DQ Blizzard. My wife is lactose intolerant but couldn't resist the temptation of the ice cream. As we got to the airport she told me she needed to get to a washroom. We checked in and got to the departure gate where she was able to relieve herself. After that she said she felt fine. About an hour into the two hour flight she told me she had another cramp and she was going to the bathrom. Just as she got up the fasten seat belt sign came on and the pilot made an announcement that due to expected turbulence everyone must remain in their seats. About five minutes later Cindy told me that the pains were getting pretty bad and if she did not get to the bathroom quickly she would have an accident. I told her to go to the bathroom and hopefully the flight attendants will be okay with it. Sge took my advice but just as she was standing up we hit a! pocket of turbulence that knocked her back inbto her seat and caused her bowels to explode with liquid diahrea. She started to cry as the poo made its way around her bum and crotch but what was most embarassing was the smell. She decided she would just sit it out until we got off the plane rather than have to walk down the aisle of the plane with a load in her panties.
A couple years ago, I was suffering from Irritable Bowel Syndrome, brought on by stress. I've since gotten over it and learned to deal with stress a lot better, but at the time, I was having very bad intestinal spasms several times a day. That meant rushing to the bathroom on a moments notice and occasionally not getting there in time. I found this very disturbing, particularly when it happened in public.
Like the time I was coming home from work. It was Friday, summertime, so I got out of work at 1:00PM and was taking the train home. Lucky for me, and other passengers, it was an old style diesel train with alcoves between the cars that were open to the outside. As I sat inside the car, I felt a wave of spasms coming on. This meant I had about a minute to get to the restroom aboard the train. Only one or two cars on each train had them, so started to walk forward one, two three cars. When I got to the first car of the train and saw there was no bathroom there either, I walked back, knowing I was on borrowed time.
Up to now, the spasms had been coming in slow waves, each more intense than the last. When I turned and began walking back, I felt the spasms turn into a slow steady squeeze, which I knew would continue to build until I released the pressure.
I have had a few different types of accidents. One type is really disturbing because there is little or no warning. It usually happens with a completely liquid bowel movement. Sometimes I feel a rumble or gurgle to start with, sometimes nothing. Then I feel something remarkably similar to a punch in the stomach. By the time I realize what it is, my pants are flooded with diarrhea, and I am soaked down to my shoes.
The accident on the train was the slow squeeze type. This often accompanied a soft or semiliquid movement. So I kept on walking, the pressure in my bowels building as I walked. I had to get back to my car and keep walking the other direction. At some point I knew I wasn't going to make it to the next restroom. I was still thirty minutes or more from home. I guess once you realize you are definitely going to shit in your clothes, your body knows not to expend the effort to contain it. I had just entered my car, and was only a few steps from the door, so turned back toward the exit so at least I'd be in the alcove in the open air when I shit. I turned an bumped right into the conductor, who needed to check my ticket! I handed him my ticket just as I was feeling the pressure reach the breaking point. At that moment the pain was too intense to stand. He handed back my ticket, and as I said thanks, I released the entire load into my pants. I don't think the conductor noticed. I jus! t bolted through the door into the alcove and stood there for the remainder of the trip with a huge load of semiliquid shit seeping down my legs and into my shoes.
I guess I should add that I took another dump as I stood out in the alcove of the train car. I was too tired and upset to bother holding it in at that point. I had to go once again as I walked home from the station. Only this load was as big as the first, so it was spilling onto the sidewalk afterward. I passed some guy in a business suit on the way home who looked down at my feet and saw the trail I was leaving. Damn!
I have two interesting contributions to this wonderful site. First, I work at a drycleaners. You would be so amazed at how many women bring in slacks and sari's etc. to be cleaned after they have pooped or wet themselves. Anyone else seen this from a drycleaner's point of view?
Secondly, there is a Hamilton, Ontario, Canada based band whose female members wet and poop their pants during performances, and get females in the audience to do the same thing. They are called Cat Chaser. I have heard that they are going to be playing again soon.
Interesting item in refrence to the group Spice Girls:
from the 4-29-97 Chicago Tribune section 5, page 5 by Theresa Wiltz
" They are goofy giggly and overly fond of tight clothes and bathroom humor.
The spice girls have been known to relieve themselves in potted plants in hotel lobbies."
Aunt Lizabeth's husband was my mother's favorite brother, so we visited back and forth a lot when I was a little kid. One time we were at their place, and I was spying on Aunt Lizabeth after breakfast, when everyone had gone into another room, and she had gone to get dressed. I was looking into the bathroom around a corner down a hall, and she didn't have the door shut all the way. She was totally naked as she walked over and sat down on the toilet. The pressure of the seat widened out her thighs and buttocks, and she leaned forward, then bent her head down and strained really hard. She did this twice, and the second time, there was a fart and the sound of her squeezing out a really big poop that splashed into the water in two pieces. She continued to strain, and I heard two more splashes. I didn't know my uncle was around, but he unexpectedly came from their bedroom and went into the bathroom, and said he had to get to work,and said he was going to kiss her goodbye. Sh! e said, "You'd better hold your nose, phew, Lizabeth, you stink!" amd sort of giggled. He laughed a little and kissed her and left. He pulled the door to the bathroom shut as he left, but after he was gone, I went to the door and listened. She flushed the toilet after a little while, and got in the shower.
As the existence of stalls actually prevents you from watching other people taking a dump, the only way that you can enjoy the experience is by listening to what goes on.
I have recognized the following toilet noises:
A lot of people are very shy about letting other people hear these noises, and I have sat in an adjacent stall to people where the only sounds were the rustle of TP and the final flush, and which makes you wonder if anything actually came out of their arse-hole. Personally, I now have no inhibitions. No one can see who it is who is making the noises, so I just let fly with great abandon, and grunt and fart to my heart's content.
- The cracking noise that accompanies the pushing out of a big turd.
- The splash as turds hit the water.
- Grunting and heavy breathing as efforts are made to eject the turds.
- Farting noises as trapped gas exits.
- Rustling sounds as TP is torn off the roll.
- The sound of flushing as the turds and TP are sent to their watery grave.
Is it very common that adults go to toilet outdoor? When I am together with my best friend and her family (pic-nics, car trips) I have noted that her parents do. I once went to pee in the bushes at a lay-by just after her mother. Then I saw that she had pooped there. Another time I saw her father squatting behind some stones in the wood, I guess that he also took a dump because he was squatting. In my family only children are allowed to do so. What is common?
Sheila again. I certainly know that everybody has to go to toilet outdoor when staying in remote areas. I just wondered if it is common to do it when driving in the country-side, walking in the woods, at picnics. And I think of pooping, not just peeing. And is it common to carry some paper just for this purpose? At a school-picnic I once saw that our teacher carried a whole roll of toilet paper in her bag. And is it common to cover the crap with something? My friend and her mother do not do that. They just leave it there. And what to say if anyone should come by while you are squatting. I think I should have been very embarrassed if someone came by when I was pooping. And I would not like other to see my crap. I have had to crap outdoor just a few times and then I have tried to cover it with some leaves or paper.
I don't understand what the purpose of bathroom stalls is, especially in mens' restrooms. If people aren't modest about urinating in public (i.e. people of the same sex), why should they be modest about taking a dump in the presence of others? It just doesn't make any sense. Does anybody else have an opinion on this subject?
Well...when I was about 13, I was visiting my grandparents (Sask, CA.), who did NOT have normal facilities, they had an outhouse. They live in a very small town.
My aunt who was 13 also, took a shit into a bucket, I saw part of her shitting, and had a hard-on that would split a boulder. She shit and shit it wound around and around until it filled that bucket up.
Wow I was enthralled at the sight and the though and ever since then I've been enthralled with women shitting.
I was shopping in a local supermarket with my husband. My t??y was a bit upset when we left home. When I got to the mall I thought I should probably use the ladies, but when I got there I found a big line-up, so I decided I could wait. I was pretty uncomfortable, but I didn't think there would be a problem. As we were pushing the cart around my husband, standing right next to me, heard me fart a couple of times. He said those sounded like pre-pooping farts, so I'd better go back and use the washroom, and he'd finish the shopping. I assured him I was OK -- I wasn't, and they were definitely pooping farts, and I knew my shitload was right there. We continued shopping, and I grimaced a couple of times, and he told me again to use the washroom, or I'd end up dumping in my panties right in the store. For some reason I got really stubborn about it, and told him I could hold it. Well, to make a long story short, as we were standing in the checkout, I just let go, with an abso lute flood of very wet diarrhea, that just kept coming and coming. Fortunately, I had high-waist panties on, so they held the full load, at that point. I told my husband I felt sick, and to finish checking out, and I ran from the store. It was f???ing awful, it was oozing out the legholes by this point and leaving drops of poop on the ground. I got to the car, and fortunately there was a pile of newspapers in the back seat, because we were going to go to the recycling place after shopping. Husband reached the car a few minutes later and noticed, after he'd loaded the groceries, that I had all the windows down, even though it was a cold day. As soon as he got inside the car, the smell told him what I'd done. He was a sympathetic angel about it, gave me a hug and said nothing at all. When we got home, I ran to the shower to try to clean up. I could overhear my daughter ask if anything was wrong, and my husband simply said Mom had an accident. He told me later that she just shrug! ged, and said "Too bad, but it happens."
I don't know if this fits your theme, but I'll share a true story that happened to my little sister when she was about twenty five years old. We were over at our parents' house eating dinner. My sister Annie had recently graduated college and had just started a new job in her professional field (social work). We're a pretty uninhibited family, and my sister kept commenting through dinner how tough it was at her new job, working in a quiet office all day with other people around all the time, she could never fart. So all through dinner she kept lifting her butt up off the chair, making a face, squealing "I gotta fart!" She never made it clear if she was actually farting or not, just said she had to three or four times. She was wearing dressy yellow shorts, and I casually noticed her flowered panties were visible through the thin fabric (before dinner...) At any rate, after dessert, she raised herself off the seat again. "Gotta..." and I heard a wet squishing noise come from under her butt. "Waaaah!" she cried in parody, "I just pooped my pants!" Not to get into the jokes and comments that followed, she ended up sitting back down in her messy pants for ten minutes or so, and ignored my mom's offer of a shower and clean clothes, stating her preference to go home to clean up. She had ridden in to town with me, so that meant I got to take her home. She wrapped a sweatshirt around her waist for the walk to my pickup, but unwrapped it and spread plastic bags to sit on in my truck. before she got in she leaned against the door to my truck and spread her legs a little, and I heard the same wet squishy noise again. "Sorry," she said, "But I still had to go!" As I drove i could see the brown stains soaking through the crotch of her yellow shorts, and she talked a little about how it felt, squeezing out of her panties ("underwear" was the word she used) and going between her legs. When i finally got her home, she got out of my truck, not bothering with the sweatshirt, and I got to see her brown soiled shorts, sagging in back with a huge load of wet poop, as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. There was no sexual connotations to the whole exchange, but it fired a whole lot of fantasies for me for years (this happened....ten years ago, roughly).
My girlfriend Sue and I like to go hiking and camping together. Sue has gotten where she's not really shy about peeing in front of me or me in front of her for that matter. It's really no big deal. Usually though we have both sought a bit of privacy for taking dumps.
One evening after setting up the tent, I took the shovel and toilet paper and went off to take care of business. We'd been eating well and although I was feeling a growing urge to go I knew that it might take a while. I found a comfortable spot behind some bushes, dug a small cathole and squatted comfortably.
As I was sitting there, just beginning to squeeze out my dump I heard Sue call me. I answered, "I'm over here in the bathroom!" I heard her moving my way as she said, "oh good! I need the toilet paper and shovel too, do you mind if I join you?" Barely hesitating (and only out of surprise), "No, of course I don't mind" I said. That was the first time we dumped together, she came and dug a small hole and yanked down her shorts and immediately dropped out several small soft logs as I watched and she sighed with relief. I did manage to finish before her though and wiped. I then teasingly asked if she would like me to wipe her now. Amazingly, she said yes! I know from the sex that followed that the experience excited us both. :)
Neither of us are into playing with or eating feces but have discovered that we do enjoy watching each other and sometimes helping each other wipe. We were camping for a few days that time and had several other spectating experiences. The other main one that stuc in my memory was the next morning.
Again, I had gone to dig a hole and was just getting ready to use it when Sue came dashing from the tent, "Are you in a hurry? Do you mind if I go first?" wearing only her tshirt. Of course, I merely stepped out of the way and she squatted and immediately began to release a soft piling shit, ending with several squirts of diarrhea and then a long stream of yellow acrid morning piss. I'm not sure if she had intended me to watch that time or not but it all happened so fast and I was there anyway. I kissed her softly, asked if she felt better and began to dig a new hole for myself as she wiped herself clean.
She must not have felt too bad because she came over and started kissing and caressing me as I finished my morning toilet and then we both went skinny dipping in the nearby pool and enjoyed a fresh invigorating morning session of lovemaking.
I am very regular--every morning I go like clockwork. Once, however, I suffered a serious bout of constipation. It started when a friend, who happens to be a health-care industry salesperson, suggested that I "sample" a new product he was selling to nursing homes. It's a fiber supplement, kind of like Metamusil, but it's made from cellulose, or wood fiber. He said that it wasn't a drug, but a dietary supplement that would add bulk to my stools, kind of like eating a couple of apples. I said sure, envisioning a monsterous and very satisfying bowel movement. I took a couple of teaspoons full and mixed it in water and downed the drink, which tasted like water and sawdust. The next morning I got up, had my cup of coffee, expected a wonderful movement, but oddly didn't experience the urge. I went into the bathroom, parked myself on the john, pushed and all I could produce were a couple of farts. I found this odd, but dismissed it and took another dose of the fiber s! upplement. That evening, I figured I take some more, so I downed another glass, but this time, I put three teaspoons of the sawdust in. The next morning, again nothing happened. I was starting to get nervous. Here I had gone three days without a bowel movement and I had been loading myself with all this fiber. That night I took another glass, just for the hell of it, and went to bed. I woke up, had my coffee, prayed to the gods of shit, went into the bathroom, parked myself on the john and....nothing. I went through the day with one thing on my mind: when am I going to unload this shit? I was starting to feel bloated and irritable, almost like those poor souls you see on the laxative commercials. On my way home, I figured I had to do something. I stopped at the local drug store and picked up a fleet enema. I had never had one of these, but I figured I had to do something. So as soon as I got home, I lay down on my bed, inserted the point up my butt and squeezed th! e liquid in. I let it percolate for a few minutes and then went into the bathroom. I sat down, expelled the water and let a little bit of shit out. "That's funny," I thought. "There must be more." All of a sudden I started to feel horrible stomach cramps. I was nearly doubled over in pain. Then it hit: torrents of semi-liguid shit started to cascade out. Just as I thought I was finished, I got another wave of cramps and then another gusher would hit. This cycle went on for about an hour: cramps, push, liquid shits, cramps etc. I finally was empty, wiped my poor butt then left the john. About five minutes later, another wave of cramps. After a couple of more cycles of violent pooping, I was finally empty! What a marvellous relief! That was my only bout with constipation. I read somewhere that Americans spend $750 million annually on laxatives. I wonder why many people are constipated? Could we possibly hear from some folks who suffer from constipation? What! are your bathroom habits like? How often do you go? Why do you feel you get constipated?
We used to visit my aunt and uncle on their farm, and one time when I was in high school, my two female cousins and my older cousin's friends were out in the woods, just walking around. My cousin's girlfriend said she had to stop and find a bush to use the bathroom. They told me to go stand off to the side, and I took a leak, but than came over to where they were. One of my cousins was just pulling up her pants, and the other one didn't have to go at all, but the girlfriend was still squatted down. She had ner jeans bunchded around her knees, and when I came over, she said, "Hey, what are you doing here? Don't look!" My cousins tried to make me go away, but I wouldn't, and finally it turned into a teasing shoving match, and they finally stopped. This girl was still squatting there after we pushed around, and we just all stood there and engaged in stiff conversation. She was trying to hold her dignity, and to do this, began talking about what she was doing. She said she ! really had to go #2 bad, and wouldn't be much longer, and this was so embarrassing. She asked if anyone had something she could use for toilet paper, and one of my cousins had some Kleenex. When she was done, she took the big wad of Kleenex, and wiped back and forth between her cheeks several times, trying to get all she could with just the one wipe she had. She said, "Phew, do I feel better now," with a giggle, and pulled up her pants, and we went on. The poop was really big, and was a juicy one too from the amount of poop on the Kleenex.I can remember trading a lot of knowing glances with her, that I had seen her in a very vulnerable, and embarassing situation, but it really turned me on, and it did her too. If things had allowed it, there is no doubt we could have gotten it on, there was so much electricity from that moment.
Recently I had was out driving around with a female friend. We are not lovers, just friends. We often go hiking together and of course we have had to pee in the woods. We don't make a big issue of it. I will stand there and pee, she usually squats down. The point here is that neither of us is modest about peeing. It is just a thing we do. This day we had been driving for a long while. I needed to pee and apparently she did too. We were going to stop for some fast food and I intended to use the facilities at the resturant. I was out of cash and she didn't have any either. I stopped at a bank with a teller machine. We both walked up to the teller machine and I inserted my card and was busy making the necessary choices to get a few bucks out. I heard water splashing and looked around. My friend had her legs apart and was standing there beside me pissing in her shorts. Af first I thought she just couldn't hold it any more but then I noticed the big grin on her face. Later she told me that she had always wanted to do that in front of the TV camera thay always have at those machines. She mused over what the people who look at the tapse would think about her pissing her pants there.
Aunt Lizabeth was visiting us over a week in the summer, and I was home with her, while my parents were at work. We were going to go to the pool around noon, and it was getting near to that when she told me to get my stuff, and she was going to go to the bathroom while I did. I already had my suit rolled up in a towel, so I went to the partly closed bathroom door, and walked right in, with my heart beating a mile a minute. Aunt Lizabeth was sitting on the toilet wiht her shorts around her ankles, and she was leaning forward with her hands folded in front of her. I went over and sat down on a foot stool in there, and said, "I follow you everywhere, Aunt Lizabeth." She answered, "You sure do, dear," and then she said that she was going to have to sit there for a while because her bowels had to move. We talked about school, and the pool, and stuff about what I was doing, and all th! e time, I could hear the squishing and popping, and splashes, of her going. She must have gone one really big poop and several small poops from the sound, and the splashes, and the room was really filling up with her aroma. As we talked, her voice would change now and then as she strained and grunted really hard to try to finish up. When she was done, she wiped her ass a whole bunch of times, and reached around, and flushed the toilet, then stood up and pulled up her pants. I shifted a little bit to the right to see her ass, and I don't know if she noticed or not. She was in her 40's, but was really pretty and had a good figure from swimming and riding a bicycle. Her ass was two really fine rounded mounds of flesh, with a real long crack, with a deep cleft between the cheeks. It is the kind of ass that a grown man would love to reach around behind during sex and grab a handful with each hand. She looked in the toilet, and said, "Oh, I think we might need the plunger, dear!" We! didn't though, and we got our things and went to the pool. She didn't say anything about this. She never did mention it when I saw her.
This is my story: One day, I was at the airport, waiting for my grandparents. The plane was delayed and after a while I had to go REAL bad. I told my parents and off I went. When I got to the toliets, the ladies line had about 1 zillion people in it, but on the mens, there was none. Even thought I was embarrassed, I went in, and looked for the nearest stall. Then, I felt it. I just shitted and peed in my panties. It lasted at least 3 minutes. I ran in one of the stalls, cried, and after about 5 minutes looked down into my panties. There, was the biggest mess I had ever made. I just decided to throw away my panties and leave. I have always wondered what happened to those panties.
Here are two from a while back that may have been omitted
Are there ANY LADIES who really like being watched while in the bathroom or have thought about being watched? Does this actually interest you or would you just do it for some you care for? I'm interested in your thoughts, but ONLY from women! Thanks!
A few years ago, I was with my (then) lover visiting a friend in New England. We had just had lunch at a restaurant. Normally, I usually go #2 in the morning after breakfast, but since we were in a motel, this was our first meal of the day. My friend had just gone to the restroom, and I didn't want to leave my lover alone at the table, BUT, I told him, I "really" needed to go to the bathroom bad! My body was seriously needing to take a major crap. He said he needed to go too. Anyhow, when my friend returned to the table, we both excused ourselves. My friend went to pay the bill and then wait for us in the lobby area. My lover and I went to the Mens Room - it had a sink, urinal and one toilet (exposed) all in a row, no walls, nothing. He went to the toilet and prepared to take a piss, I stopped him and said I needed to use that (motioning to the toilet)! Obviously indicating I needed a "seat". He moved to the urinal and I proceeded to pull down my pants and sat down . This was the first time ever I was going to go #2 with someone standing right next to me! Within moments (I had to go BAD!), I was dumping a major crap. It was loud & loose, it was alot and it smelled big time! He pissed, listening while I did my thing then washed his hands, then grinned and made a comment about how bad it smelled. I was sitting there feeling great relief, he said he needed to go get some air! I sat a while longer, then wiped (alot!), washed up, flushed and exited - as I came out the door, he was right there waiting for me (kinda surprised me), then just kinda poked fun at me. I smiled and commented something like "Oh man, that was a major relief, oh!" All I can say is...It was HOT!
One evening, while at a party, I felt the urge to go #2. Yes. I had to go real bad. The bad part about this was that my friend and I were with two cool guys in a tree fort not too far away from the party, yet really high, maybe 50 or 60 feet from the ground. It was a real neat fort with carpet and little windows. Really comfortable. The one cute guy I was hanging with, built the fort and was really nice. I asked him how to get down fast. He asked why. By that time I could feel some poop coming out. I told him, I needed to get down so I could go to the bathroom. Then with out warning it all came out, soft large chunks. It kept filling my pants. Then I peed my pants. Why do I have such shitty muscles? It filled my panties up. Jon, the cute guy I was with, saw my reaction and the wet stream going down my pants, and came over to me. I was sobbing. I was so pist off at my self for doing this and incredibly embarassed. He picked me up and carried me down a ladder to the bottom. His hand felt the poop load in my pants and looked at me and kissed me on the lips and told me that it was going to be ok. He carried me over to the bathroom. On the way I got stares and and mean gazes from the crowd. Jon didn't care. when we reached the bathroom, I got down and took off my clothes and took a shower. I needed fresh clothes, so Jon lent me some of his. He threw away the undies and washed the rest. He is such a cool guy, and really cute. I am 14 and he is 16. If I'm going to get him I have to wait until I'm 18, according to him. I'm glad there is a guy out there who won't be affraid to help me if I ever have an accident like this again.
It's me again. I have another story to tell. About a week ago, my friend Carie and I were walking with Jon and his friend Jesse. Me and Jon are boyfriend and girlfriend now, just to let you know. anyways, We were walking when my friend Carrie said she had to find a bathroom quickley. By the smell of it it was too late. I ran with her to a bridge and she let down her panties. She had gone poop. It was light brown and mushy. She was crying. I smelled it and decided to stay a safe distance away from her. She wiped her ass and asked me if she had gotten it all. Her ass was pointing right at me. for some reason that got me king of horney. I said that she had some more down twards her croutch and when she wiped it with a leaf, that also got me off. I hope I'm not becoming a lesbian, I thought. She pulled up her pants and we left. Unfortunately I now had to go really bad. I ran back to the bridge, jon followed me to cover me up so no one could see me. I sat there and relieved my self of a huge load of poop. when I was done, I pulled my pants up. Then I felt something warm and smushy. I had not moved my pants away far enough and I pooped on them. Damn. I decided to leave it until I got home so I could clean myself properly. On the way The poop began coming out of the sides. Some of it fell out and stuck to my leg. Actually, if hadn't been for the smell, I would of said It didn't bother me that much and actually felt soothing against my butt. My asshole was hurting me and I knew I couldn't walk like this for too long. Wouldn't you know it. Jon Carried me the rest of the way. I hate having these really embarassing accidents.
A mean Trick
As a so-called "revenge", another sorority "kidnapped" the four of us at three in the morning. We were all taken to the woods behind the college maintenance garage and tied to trees. After the sun came up, we tried screaming for help, but it was Sunday, so there was nobody around to hear us. Well, my poor bladder was just about bursting I was trying to hold it so long. It made me wonder about all those movies where the villian is tied to a chair, I mean you never see them wet their pants, right? Finally, I just decided to do it. I told the others I was sorry, but I would rather die from embarassment than a burst bladder. Pami said "Thank God, you aren't the only one - I'm just dying to pee too" Well, it was a tidal wave in my jeans, let me tell you. At first it felt warm and nice, but after it cooled off it was clammy and chilly. But I felt so relieved, I was shaking! I could't see Pami, but she said she felt better. Later, they tipped off our friends to come and get us! , like in the afternoon. My pants were dried off, so you couldn't even tell. But poor Mary, she's been so quiet because she's pooped her pants and wet them.
had taken a laxative the night before. I just had lunch with a coworker. We were on our way back to work, and a huge, painful bubble began to work its way clockwise through my abdomen. I knew I had to go, and SOON!
I asked my friend to please stop at the bowling alley because I HAD to go BAD! The bowling alley was the first place I saw. My friend parked outside and I ran in. Wouldn't you know, I ran smack dab into someone I knew. He tried to chat, but all I could do was ask "Where's the Ladies Room?" He told me, and I made a bee-line for it.
I ran into a stall and barely got my panties down when I exploded into the toilet. No, it wasn't the runny, watery stuff. It was dark brown spurts of semi-solid, skinny shit. It came out with such force, though, for about 5 solid minutes. It was the most powerful crap I ever had, and I swear the toilet was almost 3/4 full. A big, heaping mound of steamy, smelly poop.
I had to wipe and wipe to get my ass clean. That night, I had to rub Preparation H cream on my poor, sore, tight little asshole.