The Reunion

CHAPTER ONE

My name is Joe. About eight months ago, I had made the acquaintance of a woman named Amanda at a party I'd attended through a co-worker's invitation. I had left the party with her that night to help her with some technical difficulties with her home computer. One thing led to another, and the two of us ended up engaged in kinky pursuits for a week. At one point Amanda brought a friend with her from work, and the friend, Meg, had ended up sharing in our exploits that week.

Since that point, and currently, Amanda and I had been going steady, to some degree. Both of us still enjoyed our mutual kinky pursuits, which included bathroom intimacy via the toilet, ass worship, facesitting and golden showers. We also maintained a more conventional sexual relationship, but neither of us was looking for commitment.

I was still working for the tuner car shop I'd been with when I'd first met Amanda, and she was still with a company that broadcast unique motorsports events via the internet.

Anyhow, just leaving work for the day and getting ready to make the four-block walk home, my cell phone rang. It showed that Amanda was calling. I stepped into the shade of a building on the sidewalk and took the call.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi Joe. Are you done working for the day?" Amanda asked.

"Just got out, making the walk home," I answered.

"All right," she said, "I wanted to let you know I got a call from Meg before I left for work this morning. You know she enjoyed the activities we engaged in the first time we were together. Well, apparently, Meg would like to get together again. She sounded like she would like it to be just you two, at her place for a Friday to Sunday thing. She didn't tell me I couldn't come, and I mentioned I might pop in to visit one day. Work's been busy, so I can't say for sure yet. At least you have a heads-up."

"Ok, that's cool. I think I can manage for her. Are you going to be offended if she wants to go to bed with me?"

Amanda answered, "I suppose on some level it is a little weird, and it's the stuff relationship conflicts are made of. But we've only been going steady, and we haven't really done conventional sex. Meg is a close friend, and it's not her objective to steal you away. Another part of me knows she doesn't date regularly and doesn't get a lot of action to satisfy herself. We all have our methods of pleasuring ourselves, but she probably doesn't so that regularly either. She has enough in her life that sex and relationships run third or fourth on her list of priorities. Kinda like you. So if you sleep together, I'll just be happy that she's happy, and know that you aren't leaving me for another woman," she finished.

"All right. I wouldn't want things to crash or be weird for us. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Meg will pick you up at the shop there after work tomorrow. Also, her sister drove in yesterday from another part of the state and is visiting for a week. Meg claimed it wouldn't be a problem. I don't know what kind of sexual exploits she's had, but she might be at least ok with some non-mainstream stuff like we've gotten into. She's thirty-one, four years younger than Meg. Her name is Valerie, and people shorten it to Val," Amanda finished.

"Thanks for the details. I'll see you soon or at least call you, ok?" I said.

"Sure, see you later, Joe." She hung up and I ended my call and put the phone away to continue the walk home. Well, today was Thursday, which meant Meg was going to meet me after work at the shop on Friday, and then we'd indulge for the weekend, maybe Monday if Meg chose; she may have taken an extra day off because two days and an evening were not enough for her. We would see.

Getting home, I put potatoes and chicken in the oven, showered, and ate in front of the TV when it was ready. I flipped channels and found a decent movie to watch till I went to bed.

I got up at the usual time Friday morning and did my usual morning routine before heading out the door and down to the shop. I made it through my day without it being obvious that I was eager for the day to be done. I enjoyed my work, but I was definitely looking forward to seeing Meg.

By quarter to five I had tied up my day. Five minutes after stepping out the front door to the sidewalk, I noticed a white Volkswagen GTI heading down the street on my side. Sure enough, it pulled to the curb and stopped a couple feet in front of me. With the driver's window halfway down, I was able to recognize Meg at the wheel. I grabbed my small bag of essentials, checked traffic, stepped around and slid into the passenger seat, swinging my duffel into the rear. I buckled in; Meg checked traffic and pulled out.

Getting through the worst of the in-city traffic, she finally said, "Hi Joe. It's good to see you again. I'm looking forward to the weekend. I took a half-day on Monday; can you be out by one o' clock so we could have lunch and the afternoon together?"

"Nice to see you again too, Meg. I'm looking forward to it too." I pulled out my phone and sent my boss, and friend, John, a text asking him about leaving early on Monday. Three minutes later, I got the 'ok' from him. I glanced at Meg in the driver's seat, letting her know I was cleared for Monday. She hadn't changed since I'd first met her; sandy-colored hair that hung to her chin, loosely curled. Five-nine, wide and stocky without being fat. Ample breasts and thighs, with a rounded butt that was wide as well; it was wider and a bit more fleshy than Amanda's. It was one of my very favorite of Meg's physical attributes.

We drove for about fifteen minutes and reached Meg's residence just on the outskirts of the city. We piled out of the car and went up to the front door. Meg unlocked it and led me inside. It was a ranch style with a basement, probably at least semi-finished. We were standing in the living room, furnished with two recliners and a couch, plus a TV hung on the wall directly opposite the couch. Between the living room and kitchen was a short hall with a door on each wall, including the rear. Two bedrooms and a bath, I supposed.

I guessed right, and Meg told me to put my stuff in the room on the left; her sister had the room on the right for a week. The bathroom was on that rear wall. Meg told me the bathroom we'd be using during our kinky endeavors was downstairs. The doorway entry for the basement was in the kitchen wall opposite where we stood.

I accomplished the immediate tasks and settled in the living room. By five-thirty Meg had lasagna and breadsticks ready for the oven; we sat down by quarter after six. I stuck to one helping of lasagna and three breadsticks, and Meg had two of each. I idly wondered if she had pooped yet today. Apparently reading my mind, she said, "No, I haven't shit yet today. I can just about guarantee it'll happen before we go to bed tonight."

"Fine with me," I said. We finished eating and took care of cleanup. Half an hour after settling in front of the TV, Meg's sister Valerie stepped through the door. Meg muted the TV as Val came around and sat in one of the recliners. Meg introduced us and we each said hello and gave our names. Valerie was a short blonde, with a pageboy style to her straight hair. She was about five-three, with brown eyes, a perky B-cup set of breasts, and an ass that was rounded out, and suited her build, without a ton of width. Her pixie-like face was youthful and attractive. Apparently, she had gone to dinner with another of her lady friends from the area.

The three of us finished the movie we were watching, and Val turned in for the night. Since I took Meg seriously with regard to using the bathroom before bed, we two remained up for awhile. At one point Meg gestured to the basement door, and down we went.

The entry for the bath was directly opposite the bottom of the stairs. Meg grabbed an article of clothing from a sofa sitting along one of the walls. We entered the bath together and Meg closed the door and peeled off her clothes; she hung the robe she had grabbed on a hook attached to the back of the door.

"Go ahead and strip to your boxers. Those you can leave on. I'll just park you on my lap this time. Don't get me wrong," she said as she lifted the lid on the toilet and sat, "I'd really like to leave a load in your lap, but it's late and I suspect neither of us really wants to take time to shower."

"You suspect correctly," I said as I walked over and sat facing Meg, on her lap. Her very ample bare thighs felt nice under my butt. She looped her arms around me and cuddled me close, my head on her shoulder and her naked breasts pressing into my torso. Meg relaxed, letting some tension out of her muscles. "I've missed this," she admitted to me.

Serious gas echoed loud in the toilet bowl suddenly; Meg moaned at the relief of getting it out. Long and crackling. For now, I noticed no odor.

"I'm happy to be of service," I replied.

"Hey, it's not a service. I don't think of it like using you and paying for it. I like you, and you are a person. I really enjoy having you here so I can enjoy doing my duty for you, and I enjoy that you enjoy letting me poop or pee for you. That's the way it is," she said quietly. "By the way, did Amanda mention she was going to try and stop by one day over the weekend?" Meg asked.

"She did. As for the rest of your statement, I guess this is the part where I just say 'Yes, ma'am," I added. I now felt Meg trying to start the push to get her shit moving. She was relaxed, but breathing deeply and tensing her stomach muscles. I heard more crackling, but this wasn't gas; her turd was sliding out. After five seconds and another careful push, I heard Meg's deposit drop heavily into the bowl. Very shortly I smelled a mild but prevailing rotten-egg odor.

Meg sighed, clearly happy to have emptied herself. She kept me there cuddling for another couple of minutes. She nuzzled and kissed my neck and right cheek. I repaid the favor.

Meg said, "That's the only reprieve you get, Joe. You're gonna get at least two golden showers, and any time I gotta poop again, I get to unload on you, literally."

"Yes ma'am," I said again. Meg wiped clean, and when she stood I took a look into the toilet. Her deposit was dark brown, and there was the minor sulfur odor. It was thick, about the diameter of a tennis ball from the top to the point where it began to taper off. It was only about four inches long, but I knew it was heavy from the sound it made when it hit the toilet bowl.

Meg flushed and both of us washed our hands. I picked up my clothes, and Meg put the robe on and collected hers. We went quietly back up the stairs and slipped into the bedroom. The robe came off and Meg got into bed. She rolled over to face me as I climbed in beside her. I faced her and slid closer, wrapping one arm across her broad back. She freed both of her arms and slid one around my waist as she moved the other to let her hand cup the back of my head and gently pushed my face into her tits. I certainly wasn't complaining. Sleep came quickly for both of us.

CHAPTER TWO

Both of us were up and at the breakfast table by eight-thirty. Meg had decided to make waffles and bacon, with fruit on the side. She apparently had a fair degree of culinary ability. The smell even roused Val, who came out of the bedroom and had a plateful of food. Upon finishing, we tended to cleanup and dishes.

There was a video store not far from Meg's house, so the three of us agreed on a rental for tonight and Sunday night. We chose a comedy and an action/drama. We also perused a nearby bookstore, but didn't see anything we just had to have.

Returning to the house, Val retired to her bedroom with her Ipod and laptop. I told Meg I had some questions or concerns that might warrant some privacy, and suggested we use the couch in the basement so we didn't offend Val or cause curiosity to get the better of her. So down we went.

Once there, I cut to the chase. "Amanda let me know you had a sister visiting. Are you sure it won't be a problem, or make things awkward between you two?"

"We see each other regularly. We don't live that far apart. We spend a weekend with each other a few times a year. She's independent and kinda keeps to herself. And she knows about my bathroom kink. She admits it's weird, but she understands the open-minded thing. People's desires and pursuits are their own. As long as they're not being forced on someone, no problem. Val has dated more than I, so things are kinda more mainstream for her. But she won't feel left out here, and she won't make it awkward for me. We use the basement bath, we have the time and privacy we need. Plus, if I let her know, or if she asks if I need to get kinky, she'll give me time. She might be forming an opinion of you, but it'll change by the time you leave. If she asks, and I tell her what kind of guy you are, it'll change for sure."

"All right, question two," I said, "Do you want to take me to bed? Amanda insists she won't feel jaded and more or less gave me permission to have sex in the conventional manner. She said you don't date or get a lot of action and that if you wanted it, I should provide. Said she'd feel good knowing you were happy at the end of things."

"Well," she said, "when we spent that few days together the first time through, I wasn't giving a lot of thought to ordinary sex. Mostly the kinky side. There was plenty of that, and all three of us were certainly satisfied. Now, knowing you better and definitely considering you my friend, as well as having a healthy degree of sexual attraction, going to bed with you would be nice, if you're okay with it. Just don't feel like you have to, or that I asked for that specifically," Meg finished.

"Ok, I won't. My first thought was that things would turn weird between Amanda and me because I had sex with her best friend. If it happens, she's just looking at it like you are enjoying yourself and it really doesn't need to have bearing on where I stand with Amanda, or make your friendship weird," I said.

"No worries. I think things will be fine. By the way, my pussy will be ready. It's been broken in for a few years," she assured me. I didn't need to laugh, but it happened, genuine. And I told Meg the why was in the offhand, casual way she made the remark.

"People need a sense of humor. All the politically-correct types need to understand that offensive is not offensive all the time. It's a matter of context," Meg said.

"It's true, and I agree on both fronts," I told her.

"Joe, what about the whole cuddling thing? You didn't strike me as the type that first go-round."

"I wasn't," I said. "I had dated a handful of women for short periods each before Amanda, and the most we ever did was hug during hello or goodbye, and maybe an arm around each other while we watched a movie or whatever. But then Amanda and I had the kinky week, and I think she did it as a way of easing my nerves and helping me get accustomed to physical closeness given what we were doing with regard to the kinky part. When I met you, I was a little wary of cuddling because I didn't know you. You were kinda in that 'random person' mode in my mind, and random people don't do that generally. But then Amanda said you are very much a physical person when it comes to love and romance."

I continued, "And you clearly knew what you were doing. I liked it, and the hesitancy went away. You may be a large woman, but when you and I have been physically intimate, it's been a turn-on for me. I'm sure you're aware my favorite parts are your tits and your ass, because for me, size is a big turn-on factor. Bigger is better."

"Tits and ass, like 98 percent of the other guys," Meg chided.

"Not," I said. "My belly did flip=flops when Amanda and I sat on the toilet together that first time. With you, your added size was a comfort to me. I was very relaxed, and then you cuddled. That was great. Then the shower and the ass worship...awesome. And that was before I had experience in that department," I finished.

"So if I want to cuddle as often as possible for the weekend..." Meg wondered aloud.

"I got no problems with that," I agreed. "Just don't squish me," I added. "I have no idea what has brought me to enjoying somewhat-larger-than-average women. Obesity is frowned upon in society. For the record, I don't consider you or Amanda overly fat, you just have broad figures. And Val could be described as 'a little stocky' and that's it."

"By the way, if she takes note of our affection," Meg said to me, "she may want in. She hasn't dated a lot and none of the guys really even hugged or kissed a lot. Some of them were too macho, but others weren't going to kiss a chubby chick. And that's how they viewed her," Meg informed me.

"So if she asks, I can crank her up a little," I ventured.

"If she climaxes from a little of your attention, you'd probably give her some brand new perspective," Meg decided.

We had killed a fair amount of time in discussion, and Val had popped out of the borrowed room a couple of times. Around twelve-thirty we began discussing lunch for a one o'clock start time and decided on sandwiches, deli-style, without hitting the street. We added pickles, chips and fruit for a nice sense of balance, without being unhealthy. We did opt for Oreos and Reese's peanut butter cups for dessert. We cleaned up and all of us brushed our teeth and used mouthwash on the bad-breath monster.

We whiled away some of the afternoon with reading, and I had noticed one of my favorite things in Meg's basement area. A pool table. I asked if it was in playable condition.

"Oh, yeah. I use it a fair amount," Meg said. I myself was no shark, but I knew the game and enjoyed it, even occasionally finding a rhythm and taking pride in my moderate shot-making.

We elected to get some fresh air by taking a walk after food had settled. We rested and drank some water, and then engaged the pool table. It was eight feet of playing surface, bigger than six-and-seven-foot bar tables but smaller than professional regulation nine-footers. Translation: A happy medium for playing well on smaller and larger tables.

We played nine ball for its speed and looser rules and interpretations, with the odd one of us rotating in to play the winner of a given match. At one point opinion dictated a ladies-only match, outside of the established play we had been using. We decided on a race to three games, with the winner earning $20, one and done. No whining and no rematches. Ugly shots counted, unless the nine ball got buried early in a game. We also established it as fair to call a pocket for the nine; if someone missed, it gave the other a chance to shoot and keep the race interesting. Pocketing the cue ball during play would result in the upcoming player able to place it anywhere to give a strong shot on the lowest-number ball to be pocketed.

Well, Valerie ended up winning the match in comeback fashion. Meg won the first rack and Val took two in a row; then Meg made it two racks each. On the winning rack, Meg pocketed a ball on the break, then two more, but missed trying to pocket the third ball and stay at the table. Val pocketed two balls and called a combination shot involving the 9 ball; she sank it, and Meg pried a twenty-dollar bill out of her pocket to hand over. Val rocketed up the stairs before Meg could change her mind and take the money back; however, Meg was a good sport and gracious loser.

We cleared the table and put away the equipment. Meg moved to the stairs, and I made to follow, but she said, "You can stay here. I'm coming right back after I let Val know I'm taking you with me to the bathroom down here. I'll grab shorts and a t-shirt from your bag before I come down again."

"All right," I agreed. In three minutes she returned. I stripped completely naked, going commando with the shorts Meg brought. When my standard equipment was on display and already somewhat aroused, she came around behind me, looped one arm around my waist, and gently massaged my dick to further hardness. "Are you ready, Joe?" she purred quietly in my ear. I leaned into her and said, "Yes, Meg. Take me. Have your way with me."