Roweena's Super Poop!

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Two best friends. One intestinal adventure.
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I'm not sure why Emily asked me to write this story down. It's just a funny, gross thing that happened to us a couple weeks back.

My name's Roweena. I'm a college student in my mid-20s, a little older than most of my classmates. I can't afford the student housing, so I live at home and commute to campus every day. My best friend Emily lives at home, too. She doesn't own a car, so I'm always giving her rides.

Today, Emily was working late in her Biology lab. It was a Wednesday afternoon after class, and I was bored out of my mind waiting for her.

"Emillyyyy," I whined, "let's goooooo."

She was hunched over a lab bench, scribbling in a small notebook. She bounced her leg anxiously. "One more minute," she said.

Emily had been stressed recently. She'd started working for her Biology professor as a research assistant. The job paid okay, but now she seemed distracted all the time.

"Almost done," she mumbled, "almost..." Then she turned a page, and her eyes widened. "Wait - there's actually more."

I sighed, frustrated.

Emily had been my best friend since we were kids. She was a white girl, pale and thin, with glasses and a messy brown ponytail. Today, like most days, she wore a white buttoned blouse and a knee-length skirt.

I look a little different. I'm mixed-race - my parents are both immigrants - and I'm pretty dark-skinned. I have straight black hair past my shoulders. Unlike Emily, I'm in really good shape: I teach kickboxing classes in the mornings, and I lift weights. I'm proud of being strong. I wear tight t-shirts and jeans most days, and I look good in them.

Emily and I make a strange pair of friends, but we've always supported each other. And, most of the time, we can make each other laugh. Isn't that all you need?

The Biology lab wasn't too exciting: most of the shelves held nothing but textbooks. In one corner, though, I found a clear plastic container full of tiny lizards. "Hey, buddies," I cooed to them. I tapped the plastic, but the lizards didn't move.

"Don't bother those," Emily said, distracted. "I'm trying to get them to mate."

"Oh. Sexy."

I kept pacing around. On the far side of the laboratory, the Biology professor had left some personal items on a desk. There was an old couch there, too.

Something caught my eye: a small plastic baggie lay on the professor's desk. It was labeled "FITNESS NUTRIENTS," and it held a few dozen brown tablets.

"Fitness nutrients?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Emily, without looking up. "Dr. V is developing a vitamin formula. Her mom's retirement home has this exercise program..."

I shook a tablet out and popped it into my mouth. I should start taking more vitamins, I thought idly. The tablet was large, but I managed to swallow it whole.

I cleared my throat. "Emily, are you almost done?"

"Um..." She was still writing in her notebook. "A little longer. Sorry."

Sighing, I flopped down onto the old couch. The cushions were ripped in places, and it smelled funky... but it felt surprisingly soft.

I stretched out and rested my head against an old throw pillow. Soon, I was yawning.

"Don't fall asleep over there," Emily warned me. "I'll be finished in a couple minutes."

"I won't. Don't worry."

My legs were a little sore from kickboxing that morning, and it was nice to relax. After a few minutes, I couldn't help getting sleepy - the couch was just too comfortable. The next thing I knew, Emily was shaking my shoulder.

"Wake up, Roweena. I'm ready to go."

"Hmm?" I rolled over. "Mmm... I'm sleepy..."

"I see that." Emily sighed. "Well, okay. I guess there's more work I can do..."

She left me alone. I relaxed and fell asleep on the couch again, pretty deeply this time. Soon, I started dreaming. It's fuzzy now, but I'm pretty sure I dreamed about having sex with my weightlifting partner. That was nice. In real life, I haven't gotten laid in a very long time.

Suddenly, a sharp pain in my stomach woke me up. "Ow, ow..." I said. I sat up, holding my belly, and saw Emily studying at the lab bench.

"Hey, Roweena," she greeted me.

"Hey," I grunted. "How long was I asleep?"

"Couple of hours. You were pretty conked out."

"Sorry. I guess I needed a nap." My midsection gave another painful throb, and I winced. "God, my stomach is killing me..."

Emily looked up. "You're not just hungry? It's almost dinnertime."

"No way." Standing, I rubbed my bloated belly. My pants felt tight. "I'm stuffed, actually."

I was feeling gassy. Opening my mouth wide, I let loose with an airy belch. A chemical odor - like gasoline - filled my mouth.

Emily made a face. "Excuse you," she said.

"Sorry. I feel weird." Another small burp escaped my throat. "Ugh. Maybe it was those vitamins."

"Vitamins?" Emily turned pale. "Wait a second. You didn't swallow one of those tablets, did you?"

I blinked at her. "Um... was that bad?"

"Roweena!" She scrambled to her feet. "That tablet was enough for, like, twenty old ladies! You're supposed to dissolve it in a water cooler!"

"Oh." My stomach gave a loud, gassy gurgle. "What was in it?" I asked.

"I don't know! It's experimental!" Emily approached me, hyperventilating. "Roweena, we have to call a hospital! Oh, my god - "

"Hey, come on." I held out my hands reassuringly. Emily had anxiety problems, and I was always trying to calm her down. "Listen," I said slowly, "this thing won't kill me, will it?"

She relaxed slightly. "No," she admitted. "Probably not."

"Okay, good. So it's no problem, right?"

"Well, it won't be very fun," Emily explained. She pushed her glasses up on her face. "The tablet expands in water - it makes this thick, foamy stuff. That all needs to come out of you."

I paused. "Come out of me?"

"Yeah." Emily suddenly smiled, trying not to giggle. "You're gonna take a giant poop, in other words!"

"Lovely," I said. Despite my discomfort, I started to chuckle. At least I could see the humor in the situation. "You mean... a super poop?"

"Yes!" Emily cried. "Roweena's super poop!"

I burst out laughing. "What a shitty super power!"

For a long moment, we both laughed together like teenagers. Then another stab of pain hit me, and I clutched my stomach again and sat back on the couch.

My belly made an angry-sounding gurgle. "That doesn't sound good," Emily observed.

"Doesn't feel good, either," I grunted. The pressure moved downwards inside me, and I made a sour face. "Uh oh," I said.

Emily looked frightened. "Uh oh?"

"Sorry about this," I warned her. Then I leaned forward and released the biggest fart of my life. I had no chance of holding it back - a blast of air exploded from my ass, so powerful that I thought it might rip my jeans. The sound was like a cannon firing: BOOM!

"Geez, Roweena!" Emily cried.

"Sorry, sorry..." I closed my eyes. There was more coming: I could feel a bulging ball of gas rushing towards my sphincter. All I could do was lean forward, relax my butthole, and hope for the best.

The air whooshed out of me like a gust of wind. I could feel some of the breeze hitting the back of the couch, and some of it inflating my jeans for a moment. I even got that weird feeling when a fart goes under you and comes out the front, passing between your lady lips on the way. It tickled!

"Oh, sheesh..." I groaned.

It just kept coming. The air made a bit of a farty noise as it exited my body, but mostly it just sounded like a powerful hiss. I could feel my stomach shrink, and my pants felt a bit looser. I continued leaning forward and letting the gas pass freely.

After nearly ten seconds, the fart finally ended. I gasped in relief. "Oh, wow!"

"Super fart," Emily whispered.

"Definitely an all-timer," I agreed, sighing.

Then the smell reached our noses. It was an overwhelming chemical odor, similar to the gasoline fumes I had burped up earlier... but it was much stronger. The air felt almost toxic.

Emily took a step backwards, stunned. "Oh god!" she gagged.

I waved my hand in front of my face, giggling. "Wow!" I exclaimed. "That's awful!"

The smell surrounded us, and all we could do was laugh. Soon, the stink flooded the entire lab room. We both felt giddy and light-headed.

"This is so gross!" Emily squealed, trying to stifle her giggles. "Why are we laughing?"

"Because it's funny!"

Another gas bubble moved through my intestines, and I let it rip. The sound was like an earthquake! Then I opened my mouth and belched again, releasing a fresh cloud of smelly fumes.

"I wish I could do this all the time!" I laughed. "I'd let it out during kickboxing."

"Chemical warfare!" Emily cried.

"A stink attack!"

We both cracked up again. Seriously: if you can't laugh about farts, you can't be my friend. Girls and guys alike - everyone does it. Why should we feel embarrassed?

The only problem was the discomfort: my stomach still felt painfully bloated, and the farts and burps only gave me temporary relief. "How long until the main event?" I asked Emily.

"The super poop?" She shook her head. "I have no idea."

I thought about waiting around on campus, but I hated their public restrooms. College girls don't always flush, and there's usually pee on the seats. Half the toilets are broken, too. "You think there's time to drive home?" I asked.

"Seems risky," Emily said.

"Well, I live for danger." I stood up, still holding my swollen belly. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Luckily, the science building was mostly empty. I couldn't stop blowing farts as we walked towards my car. I fumigated the entire hallway, letting out a hiss of air with every step.

Emily looked from side to side nervously. "Roweena," she asked in a whisper, "could you just hold it in until -"

"No!" I declared loudly. "I cannot stop farting, Emily!"

My voice echoed down the halls, and Emily turned bright red with embarrassment. I'm not usually so gross, but I love making Emily blush; it's been my favorite hobby since we were kids.

There's one part I never told her, though. As I walked, my stomach felt heavy and stretched out, and my pants felt really tight, and my thighs were rubbing together, and... it felt kinda good. Like... in a sexual way.

I'll tell you something private: sometimes when I'm really desperate to pee, and my bladder is super-full, it kinda turns me on. Do other girls get that feeling, or is it just me? Anyway, my bloated stomach was giving me a similar sense of pressure, and I was starting to get revved up as I walked.

The gassy stink followed us into the car, and we opened all the windows immediately. Emily was getting anxious again. "What if we don't make it home?" she asked. "It's like a 20 minute drive."

"I bet I can wait," I said confidently.

I stepped on the gas. My own personal gas kept leaking out of me, too. Despite the open windows, the smell of my burps and farts filled the car as I drove.

"Roweena, this is awful!" Emily complained.

I laughed. "I'm sorry, I can't hold it in!"

"You just HAD to swallow that tablet, didn't you?"

"That wasn't my finest moment," I admitted, "but we've been in weirder situations, haven't we?"

Emily agreed grudgingly. Over the last few months, I'd seen her in some pretty compromising positions, too. Maybe I'll write those stories down one day.

I drove as fast as I could, but we seemed to get stopped at every red light. Half the trip was on long, empty stretches of highway with nothing but trees on either side. I felt tempted to just floor it, but I knew this road was a major speed trap. Getting pulled over by a cop was NOT part of my plan!

Unfortunately, the pressure in my guts was growing stronger by the second. "Emily," I said darkly, "I think I've got bad news..."

"No!" she cried. "I knew this was too risky!"

"I guess I should have listened..."

My lower abdomen was bulging out painfully. I could feel an incredible weight inside me, and it was shifting downwards. I didn't have much time.

"This is bad," I groaned through gritted teeth.

Not everything was bad, though. What I didn't tell Emily was that the pressure inside me - the heavy weight down there - was pushing against a weird erogenous zone. In short, I was getting horny as shit. I squirmed in my seat, flushing red, as I squeezed my sphincter tightly shut.

"Ohh," I whimpered. "Oh, man..."

Emily looked concerned. "Don't poop in your pants," she warned me. "There's going to be a LOT that comes out!"

"I'm n-not sure I can make it..."

The pressure was moving downwards, almost to my butthole now. No matter how hard I clenched, I couldn't hold it back much longer.

We were nowhere close to home, but we'd gone too far to turn back. "Emily," I gasped, "I'm sorry, but I need to pull over!"

I stopped my car on the side of the highway. Thankfully, nothing but trees stood on either side of us, separated from the road by twenty feet of grass.

I barely turned my engine off before scrambling out of the car. I was clenching with all my strength, feeling my heartbeat throb in my lady parts, and my guts were so heavy I could hardly walk. "Gotta poop!" I cried over my shoulder. "Bye, Emily!"

I was seconds away from shitting myself. I started unbuttoning my jeans as I waddled across the grass. Emily followed, calling my name. "Roweena! Are you gonna be all right?"

I didn't answer; I couldn't think straight. The pressure inside me felt intense - painful now - and every step I took gave me a bizarre sexual response. "Ah!" I squealed aloud. "Ohhh, shit..."

Then, suddenly, I was out of time. As hard as I squeezed down there, I could feel my butthole opening up. Something was pushing its way out! I hadn't made it to the trees yet, but I yanked my jeans down and squatted. The grass tickled my butt cheeks.

I relaxed myself... and the relief I felt was absolutely fucking amazing. I sighed.

My butthole stretched open. God, did it stretch! My eyes closed tightly, and my teeth gritted. I started groaning: "Hrrrnnnn..."

"Roweena?" I could hear Emily charging through the grass. "Are you okay?"

"I- I think s... OH!"

My poop began moving, and it scraped my intestines as it went. This was the biggest dump I'd ever taken - the thickest and firmest by far. It felt like a baseball bat sliding out of me!

"Oh my god," I wheezed, eyes closed. "Oh... my god..."

It hurt, but in a good way. Honestly, it felt like having sex - like a guy's gigantic dick was inside me, slightly bigger than I could handle. I'd never had anal sex before, but I instantly understood what it felt like. It felt... incredible.

I don't know. Maybe the way I was squatting put pressure on my g-spot, or something like that. I had my jeans bunched around my ankles, knees tucked under my armpits, and my bare ass sticking out over the grass. I groaned with a mix of pain and pleasure: "Aahh... Ohh..."

Suddenly, Emily cried out. "What the -?"

I opened one eye. Emily was staring down at me, mouth hanging open. "What?" I asked. "Is there blood?"

She shook her head wordlessly.

"Good," I gasped. "Then - stop watching me!"

She turned around. Vaguely, I knew that there were cars driving past on the road, and Emily was blocking me from their view. I'll thank her later, I told myself.

My poop kept pushing itself out. The feeling was so intense, I couldn't stand it much longer. It pressed against my insides - and it rubbed against something sensitive inside me. I couldn't stop making sounds, as if I were getting laid: "Aahh... Aahh..."

Emily turned around again. "Geez, Roweena. You sound like you're having sex!"

I couldn't respond. I could barely breathe! A familiar tension was building inside me.

Wait a sec, I thought to myself, I think I'm gonna...

"Oohh!" I squealed. "Oohh - shit!"

Reader, it's true. I had an orgasm while pooping.

Squatting, I bent forward until my head practically touched the grass. I whimpered and shook, feeling everything pulse down there, and my face grew sweaty and hot. Through it all, I could still feel the thick poop pushing out of me.

Emily touched my shoulder, panicking. "Roweena! Are you all right? What -?"

"Wow," I panted. I straightened my back, still squatting. "I just came."

She pulled back. "What?"

"I know!" I laughed, feeling giddy with emotion. "I'm pooping so hard, I had a fucking orgasm!"

Emily was laughing, too. "No way! Are you serious?"

"Yes!" I squeezed my eyes shut. "This is fucking intense, all right?"

I was still pooping very hard. I had no idea how much had exited my body, or how much still remained. But already I could feel the sexual friction again. My poop was forcing itself out of me, and I groaned once more.

After another minute, I had a second orgasm. This time, it didn't feel as good; I was getting a little sore down there. My legs had begun to quiver from squatting so long, and even my guts were getting exhausted somehow.

And then, suddenly, I farted. It was a triumphant fart, like deflating balloons at the end of a party. I felt the tail end of my poop drop out of me, and my butthole began to pull shut.

I was done. My intestines hummed with relief. With wobbly legs, I rose to my feet. "Oh, thank god..."

Emily took my arm and steadied me. "You feel okay?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I think so."

I looked back at the ground. For a moment, I was puzzled. Where I'd been squatting in the grass, I saw nothing but a blue rubber hose - smooth and perfectly coiled. "Wait a second," I said.

"Yeah." Emily smiled.

"It's blue?" I blinked. "Blue poop?"

"It's blue!" laughed Emily.

I bent over and looked closely at my super-poop. It was a spongy, unbroken tube almost four feet long. When I got close, I could smell gasoline. And it was bright blue - almost a neon color.

"It's like a pool noodle!" I exclaimed, laughing.

"Roweena," Emily asked quietly, "could you please pull your pants up?"

"Oh. Right."

I wiped, using a napkin from Emily's pocket, but my ass was perfectly clean. I hitched my jeans back up, grinning.

"We gotta get pictures!" I said.

Emily rubbed the back of her neck. "This is so gross," she sighed, "but maybe Dr. V will find it interesting."

Fifteen feet away, cars were still speeding past on the highway. Emily and I spent a few minutes documenting my blue poop on the grass, taking pictures from multiple angles on our phones.

"I can't believe this came out of me!" I laughed. "I'm kinda proud of myself!"

Emily shook her head. "Just don't swallow any more strange pills, all right?"

My car still reeked like gasoline farts, so we kept the windows open. Ten minutes later, I dropped Emily off at her parents' house. "Okay," I teased her, "tomorrow's your turn for super-pooping, right?"

"Ugh. No thanks!" She briefly made a face, and then we hugged each other goodbye.

Sitting in my car alone afterwards, I was still buzzing with adrenaline. To be honest, I really felt like having sex.

At a red light, I texted one of my exes: "Hey! Free tonight? Want to come over?"

"Sorry, Roweena," he responded. "New girlfriend, remember? I can't see you anymore."

"Fine. Your loss." I paused for a moment, then smiled. "I made you something today. Wanna see?"

Before he could respond, I sent him a picture of my super-poop.

"Roweena," he messaged back, "what the hell is this?"

I didn't answer. For the rest of my drive home, I was giggling stupidly to myself.

I'll admit it: sometimes, I can be pretty immature!

* * *

Author's note: If you enjoyed hanging out with Emily and Roweena, they also appear in an ongoing series called Exotic Biology 101.

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