Perverted and dirty sex acts with a crazy fat chick

On Saturday morning, I was in the kitchen washing my cereal bowl and glass while Zoe was in her bedroom (not that she slept there any more), the door closed. We hadn’t had sex that morning and had barely spoken. I had no idea what Zoe was doing in there, but was obviously curious.

Then the door opened and Zoe walked into the kitchen. She was dressed quite differently than she normally did, wearing a light blue jacket over a white tee-shirt and on her bottom half a navy blue pleated skirt that came down just above her knees. My eyes bulged. I hadn’t seen a girl wearing a skirt like that since the 1990s. On her feet Zoe wore a pair of pristine white sneakers and white cotton socks that came up to her knees.

Zoe had also styled her hair differently. While she often wore her hair in pigtails, this morning her pigtails were braided in two pristine plaits. And very unusually she was wearing her glasses. Zoe was supposed to wear prescription glasses when driving, watching television or using a computer but with Zoe being Zoe she thought she knew better and never did. However, worrying about Zoe’s failure to wear her glasses considering her other problems was kind of petty.

“Hi Zoe, you look very nice,” I said, Zoe’s appearance taking me back to the 1990s.

Zoe simply stared at me with a vacant expression, craziness flashing through her pretty blue eyes. “Um, are you okay this morning Zoe?” I asked, feeling a bit concerned about her behavior, which was strange even for her.

Again Zoe continued to stare at me, before bursting out into a fit of giggling. I wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Zoe, is everything alright today? You’re not feeling sick or something?”

Zoe’s giggling continued and she then said, “You are so boring Sean.”

Understandably, I felt kind of crestfallen. “Um thank you Zoe, I really wanted to hear that.”

“You are boring,” said Zoe, continuing to stare at me with blue eyes that alternated from vacant to crazy within seconds. “You’re so polite, so conventional, so rule-abiding, always doing the right thing. You’re boring, Sean. Boring, boring, boring.”

“This isn’t helping my self-esteem Zoe,” I pointed out.

“I think you want to be bad Sean. I think you want to do really bad things but you’re too scared to. What did we do last Saturday morning?”

“We had sex for the first time,” I said.

“No before that,” said Zoe.

“Um, you went to the toilet with me in the bathroom.”

“Exactly. And you liked that didn’t you? You liked seeing me on the toilet with my pajamas and my knickers around my ankles having a poo. You act all conservative and rule abiding, but underneath you’re a dirty guy Sean with a filthy mind. You like watching girls when they’re on the toilet, don’t you? You like listening to what they do, and you like the smells they make too.”

“No — well I guess yes I did like it — but I wouldn’t …”

Zoe cut me off. “You’re not fooling anybody Sean. You did like it. So why haven’t you joined me in the toilet since then?”

“Because you always close and the lock the door.”

Zoe regarded me with a mocking expression. “And it drives you crazy, doesn’t it? All the time I’m in there, you’re outside thinking, ‘Gee I wish I was in the bathroom with Zoe while she’s sitting on the toilet’ aren’t you?”

“If I said no, would you believe me?”

“No,” said Zoe. “Why didn’t you ask if you could come in with me?”

“Well, you’d closed and locked the door, I assumed you wanted to be left in privacy.”

“There you go again, being all conventional, boring and square. Does anyone even say square anymore? Anyway, I think you want to do something dirty, something really forbidden. You want to follow a girl into the ladies’ toilet and watch her, listen to her and smell her while she’s on the loo, don’t you Sean?”

My heart was racing. “Maybe,” I said.

“Of course you do,” said Zoe. “And you don’t want to do it with any girl. You want to do it with a good girl, don’t you? An innocent, studious, goody-goody, teacher’s pet type. Why do you think I bought these 1990s clothes from a charity shop yesterday? Don’t you think I look like Miss Goody-Goody dressed like this Sean?”

Zoe did indeed look like a studious good girl the way she was dressed, the way she had styled her hair and that she was wearing her glasses. “You do look like a good girl,” I assured her.

Zoe momentarily lifted her pleated skirt to show me her pure white cotton full-brief panties. “I’m wearing my good girl knickers, too. I’m a good girl who needs to go to the toilet. Are you going to be good and wait here for me so I can go in privacy, or are you going to be a bad boy who follows a good girl to the ladies’ toilet?”

I felt slightly dizzy as I followed Zoe, her full figure looking so tempting from behind in the direction of the bathroom. However, as we walked along Zoe without warning farted, the noise obvious. We both stopped short, Zoe clutching her tummy and giggling.

“Oh excuse me, I am so sorry,” she said, her face blushing bright red.

I was a little shocked. Zoe had never farted in front of me before, except that time when she was on the toilet in front of me, but that didn’t really count. “That’s okay Zoe, it happens to everyone,” I said, trying to ease her embarrassment at unexpectedly passing gas.

“Not for girls it doesn’t,” said Zoe. “Girls have very strict rules about farting. We’re only allowed to fart when we’re on the toilet. Girls who fart when they aren’t on the toilet, and girls who do it in front of guys are dirty, bad girls. How can I be a good girl when I farted right in front of you like that?”

“Zoe, it really is okay,” I said, wondering why Zoe was making such a big deal out of it.

“It’s not okay, Sean,” said Zoe. “Bad, dirty girls who fart in their knickers like I did need to be punished so they learn a lesson and become good girls again. You need to punish me Sean so I don’t do it again.”

“Punish you?” I asked.

“Yes, somebody needs to punish me for breaking the rules of wind for girls. And as you’re the only one here, it has to be you. Take me into the bedroom Sean, and sit on your bed.”

Zoe was definitely in one of her crazy moods this morning I thought as I went with her into my bedroom, and sat on the edge of my bed, Zoe standing beside me. She then lay down on her tummy across my lap so her big bottom, covered by her navy blue pleated skirt was right in front of me.

“Right now, I’ve assumed the position,” Zoe said. “Bad girls who fart when they’re not on the toilet get their skirts lifted and their bottoms spanked six times through their panties.”

My cock was well and truly aroused by something so kinky, but my conscience was telling me this was not right. I would never strike a woman ever, yet Zoe was asking me to spank her. “What are you waiting for Sean?” she asked. “Lift up my skirt and smack my bottom six times through my knickers like I told you to.”

“Zoe, are you sure?” I asked.

“Just do it Sean,” said Zoe. “I was a bad girl, and the only way I can be a good girl again is if you spank me.”

With trembling hands I pulled back Zoe’s pleated skirt to reveal her white, full-brief panties covering her bottom. I lifted my hand and spanked Zoe on her buttocks, not very hard as I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“What’s that, I’m not going to learn anything if you spank me that gentle. Spank me properly Sean, you great big bloody woos.”

I spanked Zoe a second time, harder than the first and she said, “That’s better, but you need to smack my bum properly.”

Again I spanked Zoe’s fat panty-covered bottom and she squirmed in my lap. “Yes, that’s better — that’s proper punishment for be being naughty and farting. Now three more like that, come on!”

Still unable to believe I had Zoe over my knee with her skirt raised as I spanked her I delivered three more smacks to her bum. I felt her soft cotton panties each time I did so, the sounds of Zoe getting spanked echoing in the bedroom. When this was over, Zoe got up from my knee and holding up her skirt, massaged her bottom through her knickers, before allowing the skirt to fall back down in place.

“That taught me a lesson Sean, and now I’m a good girl again,” said Zoe. “Now we can pick up where we were — you being a bad boy following a good girl to the toilet.”

My erection already evident, I followed Zoe to the bathroom and stopped as I noticed that Zoe had placed a sign on the door. It had been written out in marker pen, ‘WOMEN’ at the top and a sketch of the female toilet symbol underneath.

“This is the women’s toilet,” Zoe giggled and teased. “You aren’t supposed to come in here, Sean. Only girls are allowed in here.”

Zoe stepped into the bathroom leaving the door ajar, and my heard racing, my erection throbbing I stepped in after her, Zoe closing and locking the bathroom door behind us.

“You’re such a naughty, bad boy Sean following a poor, innocent good girl into the female toilets,” Zoe teased me.

Zoe walked over to the toilet and unzipped her blue wet bag, then stood next to the toilet and lifted her skirt, her knickers now in full view. “You like watching me pull my knickers down to my ankles don’t you Sean?” Zoe teased as she did just this, before lowering her fat bottom down onto the toilet, adjusting herself so she sat comfortably on the toilet seat.

With her plaited hair, her glasses and her demure clothes Zoe looked so hot on the toilet, her blue pleated skirt hitched up around her waist and her pretty white full-brief panties around her ankles, her feet clad in white sneakers and pristine white socks that came up to just below her knees. Zoe’s knees were open, showing me her blonde pubic hair and her slim pink pussy.

“Come closer Sean,” Zoe giggled, beckoning me over with her finger.

As I stood over Zoe she said in a low, seductive tone. “I know you want to see me pee from close up. I want you to watch me pee in great detail. So now’s your chance.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling slightly faint at the thought of what I was going to see.

I put my face closer to Zoe’s crotch, and she opened her legs wide affording me a full view of her vagina. I could also see the water in the toilet bowl, which was still clear and pristine as Zoe had not done anything as yet. This was soon to change as Zoe’s pee stream emerged from her urethra and began to splash into the toilet water, turning it yellow. Zoe’s piss smelled quite strong this morning, and I watched in awe as she urinated, the sound filling my ears her flow of pee showing no signs of abating. She must have had a very full bladder to be peeing this much.

After what seemed a long time, Zoe’s pee started to abate. Several larges splashes of urine emerged from her pussy followed up by a couple of stray drops and she was done. Zoe reached up for her container of cloth toilet paper on the cistern and took a light blue towel square, using it to wipe away the residual pee that saturated her pussy, the cloth emerging from her crotch damp with urine. With her vagina now dry, Zoe put this cloth in the wet bag and looked up at me.

“If I only had to pee this morning, you’d kind of be disappointed, wouldn’t you Sean?” she asked.

“Um, kind of, I guess,” I said.

“You’re a dirty guy who wants to watch me poop, aren’t you Sean?” Zoe challenged me with a smile on her face and a giggle in her voice. “Well, your wish will come true soon. But not at this exact moment. I know you want to do other kinky things with a girl who’s sitting on the toilet, don’t you?”

I smiled. “Such as?”

“Like making out with her,” said Zoe.

At this prompt I lowered my face into Zoe’s, and felt her glasses against my eyebrows. We kissed shallow at first, then exchanged a deeper French kiss. My erection raged in my underpants. I was actually making out with Zoe while she was sitting on the toilet with her knickers around her ankles. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I bet you’d like to fondle a girl’s boobs while she’s on the loo,” Zoe giggled when we finished making out.

“You win that bet,” I said, cupping Zoe’s enormous breasts in my hands and fondling them through the fabric of her jacket, tee-shirt and bra, Zoe squirming her fat bottom on the toilet seat, clearly sexually stimulated by this.

“And I think you want to smell the knickers of some poor innocent girl who’s on the toilet trying to go for a poo, don’t you Sean?” Zoe laughed her crazy laugh and pointed down at her own lowered knickers.

Feeling light-headed with excitement I got down on my knees and lowered my face into Zoe’s white full-brief panties, taking the double-cotton panty saddle in my fingers, first feeling the soft fabric then smelling the cream-colored stains that smelled of Zoe’s wonderful pussy. I had obviously smelled her dirty knickers before, but now I was doing it while she was using the toilet it was so forbidden and so hot.

When I had finished absorbing the feminine smells from Zoe’s knickers I lifted my head up from her ankles and looked up at her beautiful plus-sized figure. Zoe looked me directly in the eyes. “You liked looking in the toilet bowl when I had a pee, didn’t you Sean?”

“I’m guilty as charged,” I said.

“Well, how about something dirtier, and hotter? Would you like to look into the toilet when I have my poo? Make your mind up fast, I’m actually pretty desperate to go.”

“Really, you’d want me to do that?” I gasped.

“Yeah, it’s so bad,” giggled Zoe, who spread her legs wide displaying her hairy pussy to me and leaving plenty of room for me to look into the toilet bowl.

I stared through Zoe’s open legs at her pubic hair and vagina and into the toilet, moving my face closer to her crotch. Zoe farted loudly and an avalanche of brown, messy shit came from her anus with a massive rush and went everywhere in the toilet bowl. While I was used to Zoe making a smell in the bathroom most times she emptied her bowels, this morning was something else again. Her shit absolutely stank, the smell rising from the toilet and filling the bathroom within seconds. I had never smelled poo so bad, the smell was making me feel nauseous and Zoe laughed, her face blushing bright scarlet.

“I am so sorry about that!” she giggled. “That absolutely stinks. Fuck, even I feel sick and that came from my bum!”

“I’m not going to lie to you Zoe, that is one of the worst things I have ever smelled before,” I said, as Zoe defecated again, more of her poo splashing into the toilet water.

“I think you’d better stand back a bit, and watch from a safe distance,” suggested Zoe.

“I think you’re right,” I said, backing slightly away from the toilet.

“It’s essential for your health and what’s left of my dignity that you do,” said Zoe. “Fuck, I can be such a dirty bitch sometimes.”

Zoe took a pink towel square from her container of reusable toilet paper and wiped her bottom, the cloth emerging covered in smelly shit and going into the wet bag, Zoe taking a yellow cloth and repeating the process, this cloth also emerging from Zoe’s bum covered in shit before being placed in the bag. Once again she passed gas and pooped, more splashing sounds audible from the toilet, the smell getting worse.

“Zoe I have to ask, what have you been eating?” I asked as she got a square of white cloth and wiped her dirty fat bottom, then a piece of dark blue cloth which also got covered in her feces. I noticed that she was getting low on reusable toilet paper, and would probably need more before she was done.

“Yesterday I was at the shopping center and I tried that new vegan place,” said Zoe, as she wiped her dirty bottom with an orange cloth and put it into the wet bag. “I had the buffet. That includes curried lentils, eggplant with garlic sauce, bean salad with spinach and onion and steamed cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower. To finish I had the stewed prunes.”

“It sounds healthy at least,” I said.

“Yeah, healthy on the way in, not so healthy on the way out,” laughed Zoe. “Imagine what this is doing to the environment. Anyway, that vegan food didn’t really fill me up, I was really hungry yesterday so I grabbed a donner kebab, then I had a bit of a sweet craving so was bad and bought a bag of licorice. It lasted five minutes. Finally, I started craving cheese so I bought some cheddar and was snacking on that all afternoon.”

“So vegan food, a kebab, cheese and licorice?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” giggled Zoe, as she strained and more poo came out of her rectum, and she took another square of reusable toilet paper to wipe her anus. “That explains it,” I said. The combination of foods Zoe had described made for a lethal cocktail during the digestion process.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the smelliest shit I’ve ever had in my life,” said Zoe.

“Really?” I asked in disbelief. The whole bathroom absolutely stank of Zoe’s poo, how could Zoe have produced a toilet smell worse than this?

“Oh yes,” said Zoe. “About three times. First time I was 18, and in Adelaide for a tennis tournament. I got caught short when I was in the change rooms and really had to run for the ladies’ room before I soiled my panties. I got my knickers down with about two seconds to spare, was on the toilet for over 20 minutes and used so much toilet paper I had to stand up and flush halfway through, then flush again when I finally finished so I didn’t block up the toilet. Anyway, the moment I come out of the cubicle and go to wash my hands three other girls walk in, and of course they all knew it was me responsible for the horrible smell.”

“Were you embarrassed?” I asked.

“Big time, I was kind of prim and prissy back then, so I thought it was a total disaster,” said Zoe. “Second time was years after when I was married. My husband and I had driven out to the Twelve Apostles for the day. I kept telling him to get fuel for his four wheel drive, but did he listen to me, no? He kept telling me to shut up and stop nagging at him, said he knew what he was doing and he would buy fuel when he saw some cheap enough. Anyway, the fucking dickhead runs out of fuel miles out on the Great Ocean Road, and it’s a fucking diesel, so you run out of fuel in a diesel you need to get a mechanic to restart you. We were stranded and it was getting dark, and we’d been fighting all day and he was giving me the shits, so it finally affected my bowels. I had to get a box of tissues and a torch and go and squat in the bush to take a crap. A massive, smelly poo as it turned out. I think the wind would have carried the smell all the way back to Melbourne.”

Zoe looked at me as I thought about these stories and she laughed, her eyes regarding me with that crazy gleam that was clear even though she was wearing glasses. “I can see by the tent in your shorts that you like those stories, Sean? You wish you were there for real, don’t you? You’d have loved to have been in that change room in Adelaide watching an embarrassed 18-year-old tennis player on the toilet with her skirt around her waist and her knickers around her ankles taking a massive smelly shit. And you’d have loved to have been hiding behind a tree watching me squat with my jeans and my knickers down, trying to hold the torch to see what I was doing wiping my bum with tissues out in the bush wouldn’t you, you great big perve?”

I played the mock innocent card. “Who me? Of course not.”

“Liar,” Zoe giggled as she wiped her bottom with one of the pieces of cloth cut from the flowery towel.

“So, what was the third time?”

“The third time?” Zoe asked. “Oh yes, that’s right. It was about a year ago, when I was living with Mum, Dad and my kids. Mum had bought this new washing machine and invited some of her friends over to see it. In a classic case of bad timing, she took them into the laundry just as I finished having a massive poo on the toilet, and the smell followed me out of the loo when I opened the door and washed my hands. One of her friends nearly threw up. Mum was really embarrassed and pissed off at me, but I couldn’t help it. At least you’re not judgmental, in fact it’s useful having you in the toilet with me.”

“Useful?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Zoe. She reached behind herself and took the last remaining square of reusable toilet paper — a blue one — held out the empty plastic container to me and asked, “Could you please get me some more of my toilet paper, Sean?”

“Sure thing Zoe,” I said, taking the container, and opening the vanity cupboard door. I took one of the stacks of cut up towels and refilled the container, then handed it back to Zoe. “Here you go.”

“Thanks Sean,” said Zoe, who was pooing even as she took the container and returned it to the toilet cistern. “You saved me from having to walk there with my knickers round my ankles, although I get the impression that’s something you would have liked to have seen, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, the mental image of Zoe walking with her knickers around her ankles to get more loo paper sending more blood to my erection.

“Maybe some other time,” Zoe promised. She reached up and took the first cloth from the restocked container, then said, “Oh no, I feel bad using him — he’s so cute.”

Zoe held out the cloth for me to see. This square, white in color, had obviously been cut from another kids’ towel, and had a really cute cartoon rabbit on it. “Don’t you think he’s cute, Sean?” Zoe asked.

“Um, I guess,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Zoe affirmed. While I was used to Zoe’s crazy ways, even I was astounded by what happened next. Holding out the square of cloth towel in front of her, Zoe said, “I feel bad about doing this Mr. Bunny Rabbit and I’m sorry, but you knew that when I purchased you that you’d be used to wipe smelly poo from my dirty bottom while I was sitting on the toilet going number two, didn’t you?”

With that Zoe put the cloth between the cheeks of her bottom to wipe her anus, but as she did so she farted loudly and burst out laughing. “Talk about adding insult to injury, I just farted on him,” she giggled. “Oh well.” Zoe proceeded to wipe her bottom front to back and the cloth emerged from her anal area with the cartoon rabbit covered in her shit, before the soiled cloth went into the bag.

I told myself I should have been disturbed rather than turned on by this display of insanity from the girl I was sleeping with, but I had been behaving in ways very different from my normal behavior patterns since Zoe had moved in, so said nothing.

A plain turquoise cloth failed to set off any emotional response in Zoe and she simply wiped her bottom with it, but the next cloth definitely attracted a response from her. Zoe picked it up out of the container and held it out for me to see. “Ugh, it’s one of those toilet wipes.”

I looked at the cloth. Evidently it had been cut from a children’s towel. The towel was white in color, but had brightly colored clowns all over it. “What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

Zoe looked at me with her big blue eyes through her glasses. “Clowns, I fucking hate clowns!” she exclaimed.

“You’re scared of clowns?” I asked.

“I was as a kid, now I just fucking hate them,” said Zoe. “They’re creepy, obnoxious and not funny at all. I see a clown coming, and I walk the other way. Clowns can go and get fucked. Did you hear about the time my parents hired a fucking clown for my son’s seventh birthday party?”

I had indeed heard the story of this debacle from the mortified Adam and Emily who were there with their kids to witness what happened. Mr. and Mrs. Xavier decided to throw a party for their grandson on his seventh birthday, and had invited his friends and relatives. Zoe’s instructions from her parents were clear. She was to show up on time, sober and without her husband to celebrate her son’s birthday. Unfortunately, Zoe turned up two hours late, drunk and with her husband in tow, also drunk. Zoe had worn an ultra-short mini-skirt and blouse that showed off her tits, her husband tight football shorts and a racist tee-shirt that showed a cartoon of a white family at a zoo feeding bananas to a black family that were in a cage. The offensive tee-shirt should never had seen the light of day, but was an even more horrifying faux pas given that Zoe’s son was of course half African-American. Not that Zoe seemed to care about what her husband was wearing.

Zoe had however taken exception to the fact that her parents had hired a clown to do a magic show for her son’s birthday party, and after having a shouting match with them about the issue, decided to confront the clown herself and treated him to a foul-mouthed torrent of abuse. Adam’s attempts to calm his big sister down came to nothing, and Zoe made an even bigger scene yelling more abuse and throwing the magic show props around. The furious clown stormed out sending Zoe’s parents the bill for the props their daughter had damaged, and the party was effectively over from that point.

I decided on a diplomatic response. “I heard you had some unpleasantness with a clown at Jake’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, I wanted to smash that fucking stupid clown in his fucking face,” Zoe asserted. “And I should have had some say about what happened at my own son’s birthday party.”

I did not express my thoughts that Zoe showed such little interest in her kids that her anger over not been consulted at the choice of entertainment at her son’s birthday party was hypocritical at best, and Zoe continued to glare at the clown cloth as she held it up in front of her.

“Here’s what I think of fucking clowns,” Zoe said, lifting her left bum cheek off the toilet seat and placing the clown cloth between her buttocks until it was in direct contact with her anus. Zoe farted loudly on the clown cloth, laughing insanely as she did so, then passed gas again. When Zoe farted for the third time, she moved her bowels and the cloth emerged from her bottom covered in messy, smelly brown poo smeared all over the cartoon clowns. “That’s the only thing clowns are fucking good for,” Zoe declared, before chucking the soiled cloth into the wet bag. There was a massive amount of shit on the cloth and I thought Zoe probably should not have put it in the bag in such a messy condition, but she did anyway and there was nothing I could do to stop her. If seeing cartoon clowns from a cut up towel caused her to react like this, how could I tell her to do or not to do something?

Zoe continued pooing on the toilet for the next five minutes or so, wiping her bottom with reusable toilet paper as she needed it. When her last cloth, a white one emerged from her bottom with no stains from her feces, Zoe stood up, me seeing the absolute mess she had made in the toilet when she got her fat arse off it. Her white panties still down around her ankles, Zoe flushed the toilet to consign her smelly shit to the sewer system.

“Remember how last Saturday I used a wet cloth to wash my bottom after I’d had a poo?” Zoe asked me, standing next to the toilet holding up her skirt with her knickers around her ankles.

“Yes, I remember that,” I said.

“Well, I’m not going to do that today.”

“That’s your call Zoe, it’s definitely up to you.”

Zoe smiled at me. “I’m not going to wash my bottom because you’re going to do it for me.”

I gasped in shock. “Really?”

“Really,” Zoe affirmed. “I know you want to wash my fat arse after I’ve had a shit. Get one of the cloth wipes, wet it down, and wash my bottom so I’m nice and fresh and clean.”

I took an orange cloth from Zoe’s container on the toilet cistern, soaked it with warm water and stepped back next to the toilet, where Zoe turned around, held up her pleated skirt and presented the plump cheeks of her bare bottom to me. Bending over slightly, Zoe said, “Now remember, you need to wash my vagina first and then my buttocks and anus, and with girls you always wipe and wash front to back, never back to front. You’ve got that?”

“Definitely got that Zoe,” I assured her as I put the cloth between Zoe’s legs and washed her vagina first. Moving the cloth backwards I washed her plump white buttocks, then pushed the cloth deeper into her bottom and washing her tight little anus, moving the cloth front to back and never back to front as Zoe had directed.

Removing the cloth from Zoe’s bottom, I noticed a slight brown stain on it from where I had cleaned her anus, but nothing significant. I placed the used cloth into the wet bag and Zoe, still bent over with her arse in the air zipped up the bag.

“Now take my towel and dry my bottom so I’m nice and comfortable,” Zoe said.

“With pleasure,” I said, taking Zoe’s towel and using it to dry her between her legs and around her buttocks. When I had finished, Zoe said, “Okay Sean, now you can pull up my knickers.”

Feeling out of breath with excitement, I reached down to Zoe’s ankles, took hold of her lowered white cotton full brief knickers and pulled them up, adjusting them so they were nice and comfortable around Zoe’s feminine mound, her box and her big bottom, then smoothing down her pleated skirt.

“Now I need to wash my hands, good girls always wash their hands after they’ve been to the toilet and had a poo,” Zoe said, turning and walking to the sink. The simple act of Zoe washing her hands with plenty of soap and warm water after she had used the toilet was for some reason a turn on to me, and my already throbbing erection got worse.

“You need to wash your hands too, remember you just washed my bottom,” Zoe pointed out as she dried her hands

“Good point,” I said, stepping over to the sink and washing my hands, then drying them on the towel that Zoe handed to me.

My shorts looking like a tent, I followed Zoe out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, where she stopped, pointed at my groin and said, “It wouldn’t be fair of me to leave you walking around with that all day, would it?”

Before I could respond, Zoe took the box of condoms — the one that nearly brought us undone and revealed the true nature of our relationship to Adam and Emily — and handed them to me. Then Zoe bent down over the bed, her pleated skirt riding up to show her white knickers.

“Pull my knickers down, get the condom on your dick and fuck my pussy hard,” Zoe urged.

“Standing up like that?” I asked, having never had sex in that position before.

“Of course like that, getting fucked while I’m bent over with my knickers around my ankles is so hot,” Zoe said.

I needed no further invitation, reaching up under Zoe’s skirt and pulling her white knickers down to her ankles. Zoe bent over further so her pretty pink vagina was on display, and I fumbled in my haste to pull my shorts and underpants down.

Unwrapping and slipping on a condom onto my cock, I inserted it into Zoe’s sticky snatch pushing hard up her vagina to the entrance of her birth canal, to which she screamed in delight so loud I thought the neighbors might hear and call the police.

Wrapping my arms around Zoe’s plus sized body, I pumped her pussy hard, feminine-scented wetness pouring from her vulva in abundance soaking my groin. I moved my hand to Zoe’s mound and played with her pubic hair as I fucked her, my hands going through the beautiful blonde curls with vigor.

The prim and nerdy way Zoe had dressed that morning with her glasses and her blonde hair in plaited pigtails was completely at odds with what was coming out of her mouth as I screwed her. Zoe as often was often the case yelled, squealed and swore repeatedly, including ‘Fuck my cunt harder Sean,’, ‘Fuck me until I shit all over the floor,’, ‘Shove your fucking cock harder up my cunt,’ and ‘Fuck me faster, what are you a fucking fag?’ I kept expecting the police to knock on my door, considering how much noise Zoe was making.

With Zoe’s pussy juice all over my groin and the smell of her aroused vagina filling the bedroom, I came in close to ten minutes, Zoe about ten seconds after me. I ejaculated my sticky white load into the condom, and Zoe’s vagina seemed to explode with a rush of female wetness, saturating my balls.

Although hampered slightly due to having her knickers around her ankles, Zoe was eager and quick to get to my groin and tore off my condom, pouring the contents into her mouth and swallowing it, then taking my dick in her mouth and licking off the residual cum.

With her taste for semen sated, Zoe then lay back on my bed with her legs apart and pointed at her twat. I wasted no time in putting my head under her skirt between her fat thighs, licking all her musty pussy juice away from her fanny, then taking a tissue and drying her vagina.

“You liked fucking me standing up like that, didn’t you?” Zoe asked as she stood up and pulled up her knickers, before smoothing down her skirt while I pulled up my shorts and undies.

“No, I didn’t like it at all,” I joked.

Zoe stared at me. “Is that sarcasm? I don’t like sarcasm, and neither do the voices.”

“The voices?” I asked Zoe, feeling more than a little un-nerved. Did Zoe really hear voices?

“Yes, the voices in my head that talk to me,” said Zoe.

Zoe again stared at me, before bursting out in her crazy, hyena-like laugh. “Got you there Sean! Of course there’s no voices. You think I’m crazy or something?”

“No, no of course not,” I said nervously. Zoe’s moods could switch dramatically within seconds, and I didn’t want to piss her off.

“Glad to hear it,” said Zoe. “My fucking parents think I am, they made me see a fucking psychiatrist one time. What a waste of time and money. The only thing that made me crazy was listening to that psychiatrist and his fucking questions.”

Zoe’s eyes darted around the room, clearly unfocussed and then she stared at me, before pushing me back onto the bed and jumping her overweight body onto my stomach, which hurt my abs but the pain was soon forgotten as I could see her knickers up her skirt. “So, what are we doing for the rest of the day?” Zoe implored me.

“Um, I’m not sure …” I began, before Zoe cut me off.

“Let’s go bushwalking. Please can we go bushwalking, up in the Dandenongs somewhere? Please, please, please Sean, let’s go bushwalking.”

Zoe had never evidenced any interest in bushwalking or outdoor activities before so this was out of the blue, but I liked hiking and she seemed keen. “Okay then, bushwalking it is,” I said.

“Yay!” Zoe exclaimed, jumping off me to the relief of my stomach. “Thank you Sean, thank you, thank you! I’ll just get changed, and I’ll be right back.” I was amazed at how her mood was switching around so much, but I wasn’t going to complain as it was kind of hot.

*

Zoe left her hair in braided pigtails, but removed her glasses and put on a tee-shirt, jeans and sneakers for our bushwalking expedition, a broad-brimmed on her head to protect her from the sun. She put a small backpack into the seat behind her and sat in the passenger seat with her feet on the dashboard as I drove to the Dandenong Ranges to the south east of Melbourne, Zoe mainly concentrating on her phone.

While Zoe did have a driver’s license she did not have a car and very rarely drove, which was a good thing. As she had lost her license three times — twice for DUI and another time several years ago for accumulating too many demerit points mainly for speeding — it was too expensive for her to get insurance. Even when not driving Zoe found problems on the road. When Zoe was married her husband had been stopped by the police for running a red light, and Zoe decided to get out of the car and confront the cops over a perceived injustice. When Zoe was told to quieten down, stay out of the matter and get back in the car, she did the opposite and found herself under arrest for obstructing police.

The last time I remember Zoe driving was predictably a disaster. It was when she was living with Adam, Emily and their kids just before Christmas, and one day midweek had to run some errands for which she insisted she needed a car. Emily that week was stricken with influenza — far worse than a common cold and amazing that it happened in the summer when nobody else was sick — and off work for ten days confined to bed for complete rest, something that drove the workaholic fitness fanatic insane. However, as Emily had a fever of 104 degrees, muscle aches and pains, totally blocked nasal and sinus passages and a cough so bad she sounded like she had tuberculosis, she was in no shape to disobey the doctor’s orders.

Knowing Emily would refuse any request to borrow her car, Zoe persuaded her brother to lend her his car. With Adam and two colleagues visiting a client up in Ballarat that day and one of them driving, he agreed reluctantly but laid down strict instructions to his sister about responsibility. The flu-affected Emily warned her husband that something would happen to make him regret this.

Zoe did indeed drive the car according to the traffic laws of Victoria, but where she had gone that day remained a mystery as Adam’s car had over half a tank of petrol when he handed over the keys to Zoe. By the time his sister got back mid-afternoon, she was running on empty — literally. The petrol light was flashing on the dashboard, and the warning bell was sounding. Zoe failed to even put the car into the double car garage — instead she left it in the driveway, parked directly behind Emily’s car and walked to the local shopping center.

An hour or so later Emily awoke from her sleep and found she was out of decongestant. With Adam at work in the country, Zoe nowhere around and Emily’s sister having picked up Connor and Rose from school and taken them out to a park some distance away with her own kids so Emily had a chance to get plenty of sleep, the flu-riddled girl had no choice but to crawl out of her sickbed, pull on some clothes over her nightwear and stagger to the car to drive to the pharmacy to buy more decongestant.

A sick Emily often made for a cranky Emily, and cranky was an understatement when she found Zoe had parked Adam’s car behind her own. Still, there was an easy solution, Emily would simply drive her husband’s car. Getting in, Emily started the car, the engine lasting three seconds before stopping altogether, the car completely out of petrol and blocking Emily’s car in the garage.

Fortunately, the older couple who lived across the road saw the predicament Emily was in and helped her out, the husband driving to the pharmacy to collect the medication Emily needed, the wife putting the sick and dizzy girl back to bed. Despite her ill health, Emily managed to muster enough energy to blast first Zoe for her inconsideration and irresponsibility, and then Adam for enabling this. Poor Adam, tired from working in the country all day, then had to take a jerry can to the nearest service station to buy petrol and re-fill his car so he could move it.

We reached the Dandenongs and I drove to a hiking trail and parked the van. This spot was quite popular and there were quite a few people out and about hiking on the trails.

“Would you like me to carry the backpack?” I asked, thinking I should do this as the male.

Zoe slung it over her shoulders. “No thanks, I’m all good.”

We set off along one of the trails, with the towering trees including Mountain Ash overhead and large tree ferns making it a scenic walk. The bird calls from the bush, including lyrebirds added to the beauty of our surroundings. But to me, the most beautiful sight was the one right in front of me — Zoe’s fat bottom encased in jeans too tight for her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her arse as we walked for over an hour. Then all of a sudden Zoe stopped, clutching her tummy.

“I need to go to the toilet,” she said, clearly in some discomfort.

“I don’t think there’s any toilets near here,” I said.

“I know,” said Zoe. “Lucky I came prepared.” She took her backpack off her shoulders and took out a small trowel taken from my gardening tools, and a roll of toilet paper.

“You were prepared,” I said, thinking that we would be rushing around looking for suitable leaves for Zoe to use as toilet paper.

“Yeah, well as you saw, heard and smelled this morning, my bowels are really playing up today,” said Zoe. She grinned at me. “And I know you liked my story about the time I got caught short and had to run into the bush with tissues to have a shit. Now you get to hide behind a tree, watching me squatting behind another tree with my jeans and my knickers down having a poo-poo.”

Zoe handed me her backpack. “Hold this for me Sean.” I took the bag as Zoe went into the bush, the toilet roll in one hand, the trowel in the other. I followed her, taking my position behind some large tree ferns, Zoe behind the trunk of a large tree.

Through wide eyes, not daring to blink in case I missed anything, I watched Zoe dig herself a hole then unfasten and unzip her jeans. She pulled them down to her ankles, followed by her white full brief knickers. I was treated to the sight of her fat bare bottom, before she turned around in my direction and squatted over the hole, her legs wide apart showing me her pubic hair and her pussy.

My erection throbbed as Zoe began to piss, her yellow urine stream beginning to soak into the ground. When this finished, Zoe unwound a couple of squares of paper from the toilet roll, and dried her wet pussy. Then I saw the look of straining on Zoe’s pretty chubby face as she moved her bowels, me seeing her poo as it came out of her rectum with quite a rush and into the hole.

Zoe unwound more toilet paper, and I saw her wiping her fat bottom, the toilet tissue emerging from her anal area covered in shit, as did the second and third pieces of paper. Then I saw Zoe’s face contort again as she pooped once more, her bowel movements going into the hole with the ones she had already passed. I was downwind from her, so the smell of Zoe’s poo soon entered my nostrils. It felt so bad, perving on Zoe pooing in the bush and my erection throbbed as she again wiped her bottom, messy shit all over the toilet paper as it emerged from between her legs.

Zoe had another bowel movement, and although I was a little distance from her I could hear her farting as she did so, this only adding to my excitement. Zoe got more toilet paper and wiped herself several times, the final sheets of paper emerging from her bottom with no brown poo-poo stains on it, signifying her bowel movements were finished.

I watched as Zoe stood up and pulled up and adjusted her knickers, then her jeans. She bent over and filled in the small hole containing her poo and her dirty toilet paper, then turned and walked back to me carrying the toilet roll and trowel.

“I see you enjoyed the show,” Zoe said, indicating my throbbing erection visibly bulging in my shorts. She placed the toilet roll and trowel on the ground and said, “There’s a small bottle of hand-wash in the bag. Could you please get that and some water and wash my hands for me please?” Zoe held out her hands towards me.

I took the antiseptic hand-wash out of Zoe’s backpack and squeezed some of the green liquid over her hands, then a bottle of water and poured this over her hands too, giving them a thorough wash and killing off any bacteria that remained from her bowel movements.

“Thanks Sean,” said Zoe, replacing the hand-wash, the toilet roll and the trowel back in her bag and smiling. “You like perving on girls who are pooing out in the bush, don’t you Sean?”

“Just you Zoe,” I said.

“Thank, but I don’t know whether that’s flattering or creepy,” said Zoe. She grinned. “You know, when Emily goes away for field work, she sometimes has to take a roll of toilet paper into the bush, squat behind a tree and take a shit if it involves camping in a remote area. Do you think Emily would mind if any male colleagues followed her into the bush and watched her squatting with her knickers down having a poo-poo behind a tree?”

From what I knew of Emily, the thought of any guys seeing her while she was squatting in the bush with a roll of toilet paper in her hand and her panties down around her ankles having a shit would horrify her, like it would most girls. I was lucky Zoe was willing to play along with my perversions which only seemed to happen with her.

“I think Emily would mind. I think she would mind a lot,” I said.

“Yeah, but she’s an uptight bitch at the best of times,” said Zoe. “She and my brother started going out together in 1998, got engaged in 2001, married in 2005 and I wouldn’t mind betting that Emily hasn’t farted in front of him once during all that time.”

I laughed. “I’m sure she must have slipped up at least once or twice.”

“I doubt it, she’s one of the most anal people I’ve ever met,” said Zoe. “Even when Emily was giving birth to her kids and was pushing she would have managed to hold on and avoid farting in front of the doctor and midwife. Emily is definitely one of those girls who only farts while she’s on the toilet.” Zoe took a look at my shorts, still standing out like a tent. “We can’t let you go back up to the trail like that, people might get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, it might be a bit hard to explain,” I said, laughing at my predicament.

“Well, I could walk right in front of you,” said Zoe. “Or, we could go deeper into the bush, you could take a condom out of the packet in the bag and fuck me stupid up against a tree.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Never had sex outside before Sean?” Zoe asked challengingly. “Come on, it’s fun.” She took a firm grasp of my hand and began to lead me further into the bush.

“Yes, but there’s other people around, and well, I have to say it, but you aren’t exactly quiet.”

“I scream a lot when I get fucked?” Zoe asked. “Yeah, lucky I brought something for that too.” She reached into the bag and extricated the condom box, then the pink knickers she had been wearing yesterday. “You’ll have to stuff the dirty knickers I was wearing yesterday into my mouth.”

Zoe never failed to amaze me. “You really had all this planned?”

“Of course I did. I want you to pull down my jeans and my knickers and fuck my pussy up against a tree in the bush with a pair of my dirty panties stuffed in my mouth to shut me up. And I know you want to do it. Now come on, we don’t want this guy to go back to sleep.” Zoe stroked my erect penis through my shorts, and led me further into the bush.

There was a lot of leaf litter on the forest floor and I was a bit worried about snakes, but fortunately we didn’t encounter any. “This is a nice big tree,” said Zoe, selecting one and leaning her beautiful big body back against it.

I reached out and unfastened Zoe’s jeans, then pulled them down to her ankles, followed by her knickers. While I had obviously seen Zoe’s triangle of blonde pubic hair plenty of times, the sight of her bush never failed to excite me. Zoe opened her legs more so I could see her vagina, and with her pussy in plain view and her jeans and white cotton knickers down around her ankles, I hurriedly pulled down my shorts and underpants, putting the condom on my cock so I could get it up her warm, moist cooch as fast as I could.

“Don’t forget to put my knickers in my mouth unless you want me to scream so loud they hear us in Bendigo,” said Zoe.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to get caught,” I said. That would be great, getting arrested with Zoe for committing indecent acts in public. I put Zoe’s dirty pink knickers which bore obvious pussy stains and smells on the saddle into Zoe’s open mouth, and the girl bit down on them with a cheeky grin on her face.

I then moved directly in front of Zoe, she leaned her back against the tree trunk and I pushed my penis hard up into her vagina. I saw Zoe’s eyes bulge and her face contort, but she couldn’t yell out as she normally would thanks to the smelly panties in her mouth.

Having sex in this position was new for me, and I had never done it outdoors before, especially with so many people not all that far away but the thrill of doing this at a huge risk of getting caught made me horny, and I pumped Zoe’s pussy hard and fast. It was lucky Zoe’s mouth was stuffed full of pink cotton panties, as her loud voice and habit of screaming during coitus would have made getting caught a certainty. Zoe writhed against the tree, her twat getting wetter and wetter until she came as usual with a tidal wave of sticky dampness from her box.

My orgasm took a minute or so longer, but despite having cum earlier in the morning I noticed a considerable amount of semen in the tip of the condom. Zoe spat her pink knickers out of her mouth, and with the smell of her pussy noticeable in the fresh mountain air insisted again on removing the condom and drinking the cum, while my face soon found its way between her legs to lick her sticky snatch.

Zoe pulled up her knickers and her jeans and me my underpants and shorts. Not wanting to pollute the environment we placed the used condom in its wrapper and placed it in the backpack for disposal later, and Zoe’s pink knickers also went back into the bag.

Looking just like a normal couple aged in their late 30s or early 40s who had done nothing wrong, Zoe and I made our way back up to the main trail, encountering on our way a pretty girl with long red hair who looked to be aged in her mid-20s dressed in a shirt and jeans, making her own way into the bush carrying a roll of toilet paper.

“Hi,” Zoe and I greeted her.

“Hi,” said the girl, her American accent giving away that she was from the States. “It’s so beautiful up here, but can you believe no bathrooms on this part of the trail?”

“Yeah, we just had the same problem,” Zoe said.

“There aren’t any snakes in there are there?” the girl asked.

I shook my head. “No, we didn’t see any. Just be careful not to go to deep into the bush.”

“I’ll be careful,” said the girl. “Well, I hope you have a good day.”

“Yes, have a good day too,” said Zoe and I in unison as the redhead continued into the bush, and we went back onto the main trail.

“So Sean, you want to hide in the bushes and watch that pretty redhead pull her jeans and panties down, squat down behind a tree to have a shit and wipe her arse?” Zoe asked.

I laughed. “No, I would get arrested if I got caught.”

Zoe also laughed. “Yes, and you’d end up on the sex offender’s register too.”

“I definitely wouldn’t want that,” I said.

“The thing about Americans, have you ever noticed that they always say they have to go to the bathroom, when it’s obvious they have to go to the toilet? Like the girl back there, even if there were facilities up here all she would have found were toilets and sinks, no baths, no showers.”

“Yes, Americans never usually use the word toilet,” I agreed.

“I found that out the hard way,” said Zoe. “The first time I went to America to play tennis I was at this posh tennis club in Philadelphia for a lead in tournament before the US Open. I needed the loo so asked where the toilet was and it was like I had said that I needed to have a shit. They were horrified, but I mean hello — was I going to take a bath or a shower?”

I laughed at the story, and Zoe and I continued to walk the track, again looking like a normal married couple enjoying a fine Saturday bushwalking. Returning to the car, I drove back to Melbourne and home and Zoe and I spent the rest of the afternoon doing housework together while listening to the football on the radio, again like a normal suburban married couple.

*

That evening after watching a romantic movie together while lying on the couch, we went to bed. I was in first wearing my boxer shorts, Zoe came in a few minutes later barefoot wearing her long pink pajamas that I loved so much. She had brushed out her plaits, and her hair was now tied back in the loose pigtails she often wore.

Zoe put one bare foot into bed, then paused, holding her stomach. “Everything okay?” I asked her.

“I need to go to the toilet again,” said Zoe.

“Again?” I asked. Zoe had used the toilet early in the morning, squatted down in the bush to move her bowels and had gone to the toilet for a poo again when we got home from the Dandenongs.

Zoe nodded. “Uh huh.” She took me by the hand. “Come and keep me company.”

I wasn’t going to knock back the invitation, and followed Zoe’s plus-sized, pajama clad body as she walked to the bathroom on her bare feet. “My bowels are still working overtime today,” Zoe giggled as she turned on the light, and closed the bathroom door behind us.

Zoe walked over to the toilet and put down the seat, then pulled down her pajama bottoms and then the lilac panties she was wearing to her ankles. Zoe sat down on the toilet, her pink pajamas, her bare feet and her pigtails making her look so pretty. I waited for her to urinate or defecate, but she did neither at this stage, simply indicating for me to move closer to her.

“You are in for a treat tonight Sean,” Zoe promised me as I stood next to the toilet. She reached out and took hold of my boxer shorts, pulling them down to my thighs and freeing my cock, teasing my growing erection in her fingers. “I’m going to give you a blowjob while I’m on the toilet.”

Zoe lowered her head into my groin and took my dick in her mouth, sucking the shaft and working me with her tongue. At the same moment, the sound of her urinating was audible, Zoe’s piss going into the toilet bowl. She kept my dick in her mouth as she got a cloth and wiped her wet pussy, then as she put the pee-stained reusable wipe into her wet bag Zoe farted, and her poo splashed into the toilet, the smell immediately rising from the bowl.

Getting a head job from a barefoot, pajama wearing girl who was pooing on the toilet was such a dirty experience, but such a turn on. The sound of her shit going into the toilet, her farting as she moved her bowels and the smell of her excrement filling the bathroom all added to the amazement. And last but not least was the fellatio as Zoe worked my cock with her expert tongue. I felt a bit sorry for her; her poo was pretty smelly but unlike me who could breathe through my mouth, Zoe had no such option available but to breathe through her nose as her mouth was filled with my cock.

Still, if Zoe was bothered by the smells drifting up from the toilet bowl, she never showed it. She kept sucking my dick with great enthusiasm, keeping it in there the whole time even when she wiped her bottom with her reusable toilet paper, disposing of the shit-stained cloth squares into the wet bag.

Looking down at the floor and at Zoe’s bare feet, lowered pajama bottoms and lilac panties, I felt my orgasm approaching. Obviously Zoe could sense it too, as she fellated me harder and harder. I don’t think my third orgasm for the day produced as much semen as the other two, but I still shot my load into Zoe’s mouth, Zoe swallowing it eagerly then cleaning away any remaining semen with her tongue.

“That was fucking incredible,” I gasped, still recovering my breath.

Zoe smiled. “Yeah, you liked getting blown by a fat girl taking a shit on the toilet didn’t you? Well, you’ll be glad to know your fun isn’t over just yet. Can you just excuse me for a minute or so while I finish?”

“Sure Zoe,” I said, watching her on the toilet as she pooped for the last time, then proceeded to complete wiping her bottom clean. When the last wipe emerged from Zoe’s anal area devoid of any smelly brown stains, she placed it into the wet bag and zipped it up. Zoe then stood up off the toilet and flushed it, the poo vanishing in a swirl of water. With the sound of the toilet cistern refilling Zoe sat back down on the seat, her legs wide open to display her pussy.

“I didn’t want to get any splash-back by flushing while I was still sitting on the loo,” said Zoe. “When I was married, one night I was on the toilet while my husband had his stupid mates over. They’d had a few drinks, and one of them double-dared him to bust in on me and flush the toilet while I was sitting on it having a shit. And the idiot did it. I just sat on the toilet with a wet arse and a wet vagina, so pissed off I couldn’t speak. I made his life a living hell for a week after to make up for it. You wouldn’t flush the toilet while I’m on it, would you Sean?”

“No, definitely not,” I assured Zoe.

“You’re too scared, aren’t you?” Zoe laughed. “Anyway, you can do other things to me while I’m on the toilet. You know what I want you do with me now?”

“No,” I said, which was true.

Zoe giggled. “I want you to finger fuck my fanny with one hand, and finger fuck my bum with the other.”

“You want me to finger you when you’re sitting on the toilet?” I couldn’t believe it.

“What’s the matter Sean?” Zoe teased me. “Too dirty for you?”

“No, no,” I said, kneeling down next to the toilet, which was still smelly despite Zoe having flushed her poo away. I put my left hand into Zoe’s crotch, stroking her pubic hair then pushing my fingers deeper into her pussy, feeling her moist vagina and circling her clitoris. Zoe squirmed on the toilet seat as I put my right hand on her bottom, working my fingers between the fat cheeks of her bum until my index found her anus. I saw Zoe’s bare fleet clench and unclench on the tiled floor as this finger circled her tight rear opening.

I pushed the fingers of my left hand further into Zoe’s fragrant fanny, and gently pushed my right index finger up her anus and into her rectum, feeling Zoe’s sphincter close around it and how hot she was in her bowels. It was lucky she had been number two just five minutes earlier, as my finger would have made contact with something else.

Zoe writhed, squirmed and squealed on the toilet as I masturbated her pussy, her female excitement getting my hand very sticky and wet. I could see by the way her bare feet were moving that she was turned on, so I traversed her twat with my thumb and gently pushed my right index finger further up her bum. It took about five minutes for Zoe to orgasm, the fat girl crying out in delight as she reached her climax. Inside Zoe’s bum, I felt the walls of her rectum close around my fingers and her pussy released its sticky fluid to signify that she had reached her orgasm.

Extricating my hands from Zoe’s vagina and her bum, we exchanged a deep kiss before I got one of her cloths from the box on the toilet cistern and used it to wash her vagina for her. Zoe stood up off the toilet and pulled up first her panties and then her pajama bottoms, while I pulled up my boxer shorts. Both of us needed to wash our hands — Zoe obviously because she had been to the toilet, and me as I had gotten my left hand soaked from finger-fucking Zoe’s fanny and had had one of the fingers of my left hand up her arse.

“You liked fingering me while I was sitting on the loo, didn’t you Sean?” Zoe asked as we got back into bed.

“When can we next do it?” I asked.

Zoe laughed. “You’ll get another chance to do it, believe me. And I’ll definitely give you more blow jobs when I’m on the toilet. Obviously not all the time, I don’t want to suck your dick and get my fanny fingered every time I’m using the loo, but when I’m in the mood, yeah I’m all for it.”

Lying in bed together, Zoe took hold of me in a firm grip as we spooned in the darkness. I stroked her plump tummy through her pajamas, and I could feel her bare feet against mine. I smelled her beautiful hair, and felt that wonderful feeling of having a romantic crush in my heart. Zoe began to snore lightly signifying she had fallen asleep, and I felt myself drift away to the land of nod, tired after such a kinky, fun and at times downright dirty day with the girl of my dreams. What was going to happen on Sunday?