The Meetings

Eve noted, "Holly knows how to let it stink. More than mine, I think." Eve took possession of the sock and used a baby wipe on my cock. It went back into my pants and I zipped up.

Misty, the brunette, wandered over in another few minutes. The smell of Holly had managed to mostly disappear. Holly bowed, and there was subdued clapping, but a couple women whistled through their teeth.

Misty stood and hugged into me much as Holly had. She immediately took a breath and gassed, a raspberry buzz that was long and deep, though not as loud as Holly's. It smelled like Holly, though maybe a notch or two worse and more intense. Misty laid down two more toots. "Gonna stink," she noted, grinning at me. She nestled me into her chest, and I admired her long, dark, glossy hair. I let my member stiffen some. Misty lip-locked me gently. "Thanks, Casey," she whispered. "That was fun. I'll do it for you again."

We separated, and Holly and I walked back over as conversation continued for the other group. When we had sat, Holly asked if I was okay. I said I was. "That brunette is hot," she said. And she was, with soft brown eyes, and very dark, straight hair past her shoulders. She had ample tits and a shapely turd-maker, too, and had to be near six feet tall.

A little time passed, and Holly started to fidget. "Gotta poop," I said softly, and she nodded. She looked over at the toilet booth, then stared at me. I stared back."Everybody else does," she decided.

I said, "Yeah, but are you comfortable? Everybody can see in."

"Because that's the point," Holly returned.

We sat a little longer, until Holly couldn't quell things any longer. She stood and walked over to the booth. I followed. When we reached it and Holly entered first with me on her heels, the group broke into loud applause.

There was actually quite a bit of space in the booth, and Holly peeled her jeans and panties off. I slid my shorts off and my boxers, and Holly tucked me in again. It was more comfortable to sit with her here. Must have been a special-order toilet. A number of the group was watching us, but there was perfect silence. Must have been the human default for understanding that bathroom time, especially pooping, was generally a private thing.

Holly didn't seem overly bothered. No one was crowding the booth nor staring. They watched, but it wasn't intense. "Relax," Holly said. "They're just like us."

Holly sighed. A raspberry buzz started, then echoed madly in the bowl as she let it out. She immediately took another breath, and another buzz started, same tone, same wild echo, like pointing a tuba into a toilet and playing a note. Several seconds of noise, and the trademark stink. My member made like a sub's periscope.

She inhaled and tensed, and I felt her belly shift a little and the push start. Her lips were in my left ear."LAAAAAHHHHHH!!" she groaned. I heard the quiet squelch while the turd grew from her anus. Then a heavy splash and a stink. I moved, and Holly reached for TP and cleaned herself. There was a hand-washing station and we both used it.

Ann knocked on the door and Holly disengaged the lock. Ann entered, a small remote in her hand. She showed it to us and pushed a button on it and said, "Fancy glass in all the windows." We watched them all darken. "Nobody sees in. You can stay naked," Ann declared.

"Not for me," I noted. Holly was unperturbed and grinning. I was clothed, she nude, and we stepped out. "Anybody who wants to verify the notion that big girls take dumps to match, go have a look, then you can flush," Ann said.

Three women went in—Eve, the chunky blonde, and Misty. They all had a long look, seeing a big, dark turd that matched Holly's effort in her home bathroom last week; about eight inches long, thick and smelly. We heard the flush and all three ladies trooped out. Misty wandered to the group and said to Holly, "Hell yes, young lady. That was very nice. Basically a perfect turd." Holly grinned and said thank you. The rest of the group had a little more gentle applause for us.

Holly and I again separated from the main group. Ann tagged along. As we left, and crossed the room, I kind of fixated on a purple-haired woman with a nose ring, who was smiling gently, right at me. Holly and I sat. Ann seemed to sense a presence behind us. She turned and smiled at the purple-haired woman. Ann greeted her quietly and turned to me.

"Casey, this is Fern. You might have noticed her before, she's been here more than once. Fern hasn't pooped since yesterday morning, Before she resorts to more uncomfortable means, I suggested that she try working with a partner."

"Can Holly come too?" I asked, a little uncomfortable with a stranger who was ready to poop for me, and with being volunteered for duty. Miss Purple wasn't hard to look at though. She was maybe five-eight, sizable breasts, nice facial features, and a disarming smile. Her hair was long and ponytailed, dyed a noticeable but appealing shade of violet. Then she turned so she was in profile to me, and I was a little stunned. Her bluejeans were filled out in two linear arcs, as if someone had tucked a couple melons in her pants. Miss Purple looked at me and smiled again. Her waistline was just a bit ample, yet not excessively wide. Fern stepped past Ann and over to me.

Fern parked herself carefully in my lap. Seconds later, I noted a deep buzz and felt some vibration in my groin. "Toot, toot," Fern said. "I promise not to shit in your lap. How's that?" she asked. Her gas had been impressive, but not odorous.

"Does it have to be in front of God and everybody?" I asked.

"You can use the regular unisex restroom if you want," Ann declared.

"Give him the out, then," Fern said quietly, smirking just a little. She took me by the hand and led me across the width of the room, into an alcove that opened to a hallway. We went down and entered a door on the right.

"Let's just be sure we won't have company," Fern joked. I was pretty sure everybody was out in the main space. Fern entered and reappeared in less than thirty seconds. "All clear," she noted. We went in, and there were three stalls and two sinks and a hand dryer and paper towel and a trashcan, along with two urinals.

Fern opened the first stall's door; all of them looked to be wheelchair accessible. Fern slid her pants and panties off, turned her back, and bounced up and down, getting the infamous booty clap. She did it so easily... she turned and laughed.

"How many times do you get a person wanting some privacy with another patron here?" I asked.

"I've seen it several times. Some people just aren't ready for that kind of exposure, literally. But everybody here uses these meetings to help cope with their fetish, and a person shouldn't be afraid." She watched my face. "But if it's not your thing, it's not your thing," she pointed out.

She stepped in close and said in my ear, "Please don't be scared of me. My hair's purple, but my brain and my heart are as big and open as you could want. I just wanna take a dump and feel better." Fern parked herself, then I stepped out of my shorts and peeled my t-shirt off. Fern guided me carefully down.

With me tucked in, Fern's right hand crept gently across my belly, then up my chest. It stopped, and she noted my heart going like a triphammer. She wrapped her arms around me gently ,and words dripped into my ear. "Chill. Even if I drop the monster and break the toilet bowl, I won't let you fall in."

I tried to relax. I leaned back, and Fern adjusted easily. Without warning, there was a deep buzz that got naughty-loud. "Rip a pair of panties with that one," Fern remarked. Her head was near my right ear, and I felt her gentle breathing on my cheek and my upper neck. She gassed again, a long deep crackle. She sighed when it was over. Again, not much odor.

Fern leaned into me a bit and tensed just a little. I felt her starting to push, and then, very faintly, I heard the turd trying to creep out of her anus. She tensed and pushed carefully a second, third and fourth time, sighing after each. On push number five, I heard a big splash, and actually got hit with some toilet water. Apparently, Fern did too, because she said, "Oh, fuck. Sorry."

She reached around and gently fondled my stiffened penis. I said, "Did you go find an abandoned building on the way over, and scarf down a few bricks, just so you could impress me and shit them out right now?" Fern grinned, and then suddenly she was laughing, then shaking as the tears started.

She finally got herself under control, then motioned me off her lap. I moved. She wiped. She stepped aside and I had a look in the bowl. Fern's turd was as big around as a soup can, longer than two of the same placed end-to-end. It was darkly colored, with an intense earthy smell. Fern reached over and flushed. We washed, dressed, and left the bathroom.

We entered the main space again, and I said quietly, "You probably just lost ten pounds." She grinned again. She responded with a sigh, "I need to lose ten more." I took a look around the room and noted it was just Ann, Holly, Eve and her partner, and Fern and me. I said to Fern, "No. No, you don't."

We walked over and I sat down, staying quiet while they all bantered in low voices. Fern sat next to me. Holly was first to acknowledge us, and once everyone else turned to look at us like animals in the zoo, Fern took a long look into my face, eased ahead, and locked my lips with hers. Fireworks in my brain.

"That is the only way to poop if you're constipated. Casey, you already have Holly, but you just added me too," she decided. Everyone grinned. The meeting broke up after that. Being that it was dark, I looked at Holly, and there was an immediate understanding. I followed her out to the Mazda. And found the rear passenger door open, Eve sitting inside and texting on her phone.

I piled in the front, and Holly checked traffic and slid in fast on the driver's side. She checked traffic once more and eased away from the curb, and we made the very short drive to the house. Holly garaged the CX-7. The garage door closed, and Eve followed us inside.

Holly looked at me when we were seated and comfortable in the living room. She didn't mince words. She said to me, "Eve wants to poop for you."

"Volunteered again," I said.

"Hey, you knew what she wanted at the meeting. There wasn't quite time, so Eve wondered if she could do the deed here. I told her I didn't mind," Holly said.

"Probably do the deed within half an hour," Eve told me quietly. That's about what it was. We found an episode of Jeopardy on a cable channel and killed time. Eve and I were sitting next to each other, and she encouraged me to lean on her, looping an arm around my waist.

Eventually, by the end of the episode, Eve was getting fidgety. She separated herself and stood up. She walked toward the left-hand side of the interior hallway, turning to look back. I stood and followed, slowly. Eve preceded me into the bathroom. I stripped to my boxers and Eve ditched all her clothes, treating me to the only view she knew mattered; healthy, perfectly rounded D-cup hooters, and jeans-filling, big round butt cheeks. She went over, lifted the toilet lid, and sat. She appeared pensive, then stood.

"Better idea. You sit," she suggested. Slowly, I did so. Eve turned her back, throwing a very nice view of her ass. She backed up and squatted over my lap.

"Hey, Eve! Fuck," I said bluntly. She turned and grinned. "This is pretty basic really. Letting a chick poop on you," she noted. She squatted lower, and suddenly quit wasting time. I watched her breathe deep, then she grunted. I felt what could only be turd touch my lap. Eve gently pushed my knees together.

She pushed again, and I felt her turd slide a little on my lap. A third push, and it grew some more. I saw the thick end heading toward my knees. Eve moaned, pushing again. Her load stuck out just beyond one of my kneecaps, and then it dropped free.

It was dark, with an intense, earthy odor. Eve moved carefully. "Son of a bitch," I said. But my dong was standing proudly, definitely impressed at what Eve had left in my lap. I heard Holly in the hall. The door opened. She stepped in as Eve was cleaning herself. Holly took Eve's log off my lap and I moved and washed my hands after carefully peeling off my boxers.

Before Holly flushed, I noted that Eve's turd was probably a foot long, no joke. Holly took my boxers and added them to her laundry, and I heard the machine start. Eve slid behind me and looped her arms around my waist. "Hey. Okay?"

I looked at her and said,"You thought Holly knew how to take a shit. Somebody's gonna have to start a competition, and the winner can be Miss Footlong USA."

Eve chuckled as we left the bathroom. Holly reappeared. Eve said goodbye, and thanked me for being a stand-up dude in the volunteer department. It turned out she lived a block from Holly, and she was able to walk home.

The next night, Holly insisted I ride with her from work. We had dinner together, chicken tacos and fruit and dessert, one of Holly's weaknesses. She didn't really over-indulge in America's favorite course, though. Holly and I were sitting down with Steve Harvey and Family Feud when there was a knock at Holly's door.

We separated and Holly answered it. Misty stepped into the room, and she had a notebook and some colored pencils and markers. The notebook had to be a sketchbook, because the pencils and markers were art supplies.

Misty made small talk with me and then informed Holly and me that she wanted to sketch us together. Holly covered the windows, then stripped off her shirt and bra and sat me between her legs. I leaned carefully into Holly's shoulder. I asked Holly if she had asked or bribed Misty to come.

"I promise I did not," Holly stated. Misty noted, "I came because I wanted to sketch Holly. My partner Ellie is a big fan. She loves Holly's wide figure."

So we sat and Misty sketched us. Holly breathed and tensed and powered noisy gas into her couch. For an hour, Holly made it stink while Misty worked, her hand moving deftly and demonstrating her talent. Holly's gas was deep, long buzzes and long strong crackles, always naughty and odorous. Misty would wink at me each time it happened, and kept drawing.

Eventually Misty stopped and showed Holly the pad. She angled it so I could see. I have no artistic talent, but I recognize other people's passions, and Misty was passionate. She had drawn us close to scale, finely detailed. Holly's dark standing curls and skin tone; big knockers and thick thighs and dark bluejeans. My whiteness and buzz cut and contrasting smallness. It was all filled in color with the pencils. Raw talent. Holy shit. Misty told us she would print a second copy of the sketch and return the next night., so we each had one.

I separated myself from Holly. Misty leaned over and spoke in Holly's ear. Holly grinned, then stood up and appropriated the sketch pad. Misty sat down, opened her legs, and made a "come here" gesture with her fingers. I moved, and she tucked me into her lap. She looped her arms around me, then grinned. Holly stood with the sketch pad. Her hand went to work.

Misty. That damn fine, smooth dark hair. That pretty face and million-dollar smile. I felt her take a deep breath. A buzz started, and got loud and long and deep. Misty gasped. Stinky eggs, and Misty moaning in my ear. Holly was still working away with the pad. We sat for another hour while she worked, then switched to colored pencils to finish it off.

Holly had captured us very well. Misty's gorgeous hair and fine figure and smile, and me tucked carefully between her legs. Misty ripped more gas, still long and deep and loud and smelling fiercely. Misty grinned and gave me a long kiss on the cheek.

Another day passed at work. Holly had dropped me off at home after Misty left, and stopped by to pick me up from work in the afternoon. We went back to Holly's place, killed an hour and a half with TV, and ate dinner. Misty showed up again shortly after we finished eating. She had her sketch book again. She opened it.

"I actually hand drew the copies," Misty said. She gave Holly and I a copy of each, in a plastic sheet protector. "Cool," I said. Misty noted, "We're getting excited about sketches of women passing gas with a partner. How fuckin' weird is that? I guess we're all bent. I don't give a shit. There is no set definition for normal anymore." Holly and I were sitting on the couch again, me tucked in her lap.

She turned loose a mighty rumble, leaning into me and launching a healthy "Fuck!" from deep in her throat. She slid me off her lap, stood up, and tugged her jeans and panties down. She collected her panties and held them up. There was a hole down low in the seat area. "No way," I said.

Misty looked at Holly. "You gonna poop?" Holly said, "I should go do it." She reached over and took my hand, and it was off to the bathroom. Misty followed, sketch materials in hand. Once inside, we all stripped down, and I admired Holly's pretty face and sexy, naked heft and size. She went over to the toilet.

Misty said, "Hell no. Casey lays out on the floor; you get on your knees with your asshole ready for the Cleveland steamer, with your giant cheeks giving him a great view. I'm drawing." Holly directed me to the floor, and straddled my torso on her knees. I saw her anus start to expand. "Too big. I can't give him that," Holly noted.

Misty, drawing away, said. "Bullshit. He loves your technique. You unload that fucking turd. I want to finish the sketch with a nice, brown loaf. Lean over and push. Give it to him good. "

Holly took a long look at me. She leaned over, raising her huge ass, shoving the heft a little closer to my face. She grunted, and in a couple seconds, turd hit my skin. Misty moved, eyeing the mighty log, drawing away. Heat and stink. More push. Turd grew, huge and heavy. Holly's turd was dark, big as my fist. Holly breathed deeply, pushing again, and the massive load slid free and dropped on my torso.

Holly righted herself, backing her ass over my face. Misty noted, "Oh my God. Yes. There's more.."

Holly grunted, her anus opened, and she dropped another load in one constant push, moaning as it fell free, dead across the middle of my face, with a slight half-moon curl. One of my eyes noted Misty working fiercely and coloring madly. She pulled a ruler from her sketch gear. Holly straightened the load of shit on my torso. Misty declared it to be a full twelve inches long.

Holly moved the second turd off my face. Ripe odor. Misty measured; nearly nine inches long, dark and thick like the first brick. Holly stood carefully and washed her hands, retrieved a washcloth and a bar of soap, and carefully scrubbed my face clean, then my torso.

Holly's turds went into the john, one at a time, after she had wiped and flushed. Both of them nearly backed up the plumbing, but were sent to the amazing turd farm in the sky. Misty spent another hour duplicating her sketch for us, and using another page protector. I scoped mine out. Holly's massive, browned ass was a focal point, in the foreground. My face was smaller, proportionate and far enough away, with the second turd on it. The drawing also featured Holly's torso, head and hair, stretching away toward the top of the sketch page. It was all beautiful and well done.

Misty gave me a copy of the drawing and I said, "Misty, that's awesome. Thanks." Holly had left the room after cleanup. Misty and I went back out to the living room. I sat and admired Misty's work. She probably had a high end color scanner that could have duplicated the work easily, but she had put forth the effort to do them by hand. There were Misty's two and the one of me and Misty done by Holly.