Inga's 4/20 Poop Story

by Inga

Just yesterday I was reminiscing all of my old boyfriends with
a friend. Not that I had a whole lot of them, but each one was worth
remembering. One in particular, I can never forget.

He was quirky from the start. I think that is what attracted me to him.
But looking back I realize that I should have known. I should have seen
the signs, especially coming from the family that I do with our sort of
background.

This guy seemed to have a great sense of humor, and was gorgeous. I never
guessed that he would be attracted to me. I had just chopped all of my
hair off in a rebellious new phase, and I didn't expect any one to be
interested in me at that time because of how I was acting. I think I was
looking for something new. I got something new alright. A new boyfriend.

He had an incredible body that I still dream about. He was very fit and
had well placed muscles. Not too much... just perfect. His hair was
always tousled and he always had a mischievous grin across his face.

We jumped into the sex thing about a week after I got to know him. It was
nice, not bad at all, sometimes wonderful.

There was one strange thing that I remember about him. He always seemed
interested in what I had eaten. I thought he was concerned with my
weight, but apparently that wasn't it. He would have me describe in detail
what I had eaten the entire day. As I was explaining, he would start
rubbing his crotch and start getting visibly turned on. Whatever. I have
known weirder people, right?

Well, I started noticing more about him as the newness wore off. He would
disappear for a long while into the bathroom. He was obviously relieving
himself, and obviously he was relieving his bowels. Now, I just recently
was talking with a co-worker (a woman) and we decided that men take at
least twice as long to have a bowel movement as women. The women I know
go in, sit, let go, and leave. The men bring magazines, a beer, a radio,
what have you. 45 minutes later.... they emerge... window in bathroom
propped open, fan running.


So I didn't think it was too weird when my boyfriend would take a glass of
water, a magazine and himself to the bathroom. He would spend a long time
in there, and make these incredible moaning sounds, then emerge looking
all shaky. Sometimes some poop aroma would follow him out and through a
few rooms of the house before it would leave him.. I would wrinkle my
nose, but I liked the guy a lot so I didn't say anything.

Sometimes he would do the bathroom thing, and come out and be so turned on
that he would have to have sex right then and there, wherever I was.

Let me tell you some weird things, first. I would go into the bathroom
after he was done, and water would be everywhere. As if he splashed water
from the sink all over himself. Also, the glass would sometimes be on the
vanity, but looking sort of filmy and not too clean. I would shrug, take
the glass to the kitchen, and leave it in the sink. Once when I did that
he apparently had to do some more business, because he came running to me
demanding his glass back.

Okay, I see that I am rambling. Let me get to the whole weird scene. I
started getting these infections. I would get really infected and we
couldn't have sex. My boyfriend didn't seem to care, but he would eat
more popcorn and celery and apples and stuff ( I mean a lot more) and then
spend time in the bathroom .

I wasn't feeling that good with my infections. Oh they were spewy and
bloody and pussy and horrible. This is a person who never has even had a
yeast infection. I wasn't in the best of moods and all of his howling at
the toilet started to annoy me. "Just what was he doing in there" I would
ask myself. He would emerge all sheepish and sweaty and shaky. yuck. I
started to dislike my new boyfriend.

One day I had to relieve my bowels, just finished, the phone rang, and I
quickly wiped and ran to the phone. I thought my boyfriend wasn't home
yet. I talked for awhile on the phone, then went to flush the toilet. I
walked in and there he was with his stupid fucking glass, fishing my poop
out of the toilet. He was humming and looking really stupid as if he were
a small boy who just found some minnows in the stream. I backed out of
the bathroom before he could see me. It was so weird. I didn't know how
to approach him. Then he started hooting and hollering as he has never
before done.

I was so mad that I got myself hooked up with this weirdo. I was almost
healed up and I was feeling stronger. He came out of the bathroom, of
course... you said it... ALL SHEEPISH LOOKING. He wanted to have sex with
me and promised that he was sure that it would be the best time ever. I
really couldn't bring myself to thinking it would be even remotely
pleasurable for me so I made up an excuse and left.

I went for a long walk, and decided that I had to find out what he did in
that bathroom. I devised a plan.

The next day, When he was still asleep, I wrote a note that I ran to the
store. I next hid myself in the linen closet in the bathroom, cracked it
some so I could see out towards the toilet.

Like clockwork, He woke up, whistled a tune, went to the kitchen to get a
glass and his magazine and headed for the toilet.

This image will never leave me.. Ugh.

He sat there, on the seat. He grunted a couple of times, (really soft).
He held his glass under his butt and filled it with the poop. I got
really confused, but kept looking. He opened the magazine, (it appeared
to be a naughty one) and started flipping through it with one hand,
holding his glass of poop with the other hand, and groaning louder and
louder. I watched his sex grow in arousal and I grew horrified as I
thought that I guessed what he would do next. I thought that he might
smear the poop all over himself or something, As I have heard that some
people get aroused doing that. I never really guessed what he did.

What I saw was astonishing. He threw the magazine down. I looked at it
and saw two huge nipples facing the ceiling. I couldn't make out the
lady's face or anything else.

I was stupid to try to see what was in the magazine, for as I did I missed
what he did for the next 15 seconds. When I looked back at him, I almost
choked out loud. He had his male organ shoved up to the hilt into the
glass full of poop. He started moaning and groaning louder. Over and
over he thrust into the glass. He was standing up, and wagging his butt
back and forth. His eyes were half-closed and he started hooting again.
Louder and faster. His hips started thrusting so hard, that I was afraid
he was going to break the glass. He started shrilly whining now, louder,
humping harder. His free hand was waving all over as if he were on a
bucking bronco. He was yelling and hollering and screaming and then he
came.

What force. He came so hard that Both his juices and the poop sprayed all
over his belly and chest. I was shivering and cold and totally freaked
out. I started moving around . I wanted to get out of there. I was so
sick thinking that sometimes he would come to me for sex after this. No
wonder I was infected! I got furious. what a weird shit guy! I burst
out of the closet, and there he stood, leaning against the wall. Spent.
His half-shriveled pee pee with poop all around it, and slippery man
juice. He looked sheepish at me and said with a whiny voice, " Your poop
was the best. Nothing beat your poop. The day that I had your poop was
the day I thought I was in heaven".

I stood there for only a second. Fire in my eyes. I wound up, and punched
him in the face and stomach. He sank to the poop splattered floor and
clutched his stomach, just staring at me. I washed my hand with soap, and
started packing my stuff. He started whining, "But honeyyy..."

I had everything in my car, took a last look around to see if I forgot
anything, and started to leave. The cat brushed up against my ankle. I
pet the cat for a second, looked at my boyfriend. He was full of dried
poop. Still naked. He started wagging his butt a little back and forth
and said, "Are you sure you don't want to stick around for a little while?
You haven't even seen me with the litterbox. I

I punched him again, scooped up the cat, and left.

Today it is just the cat and myself. It was really his cat,, but I
couldn't leave it. I am all healed and I feel like I am over the trauma.
I can once again keep a glass in the bathroom for when I brush my teeth.
I feel like I am ready to move on.

There you go...that was my boyfriend.


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