The Meetings

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This story is entirely a work of fiction.


The meeting was winding down again. But I came as I had been doing for the last several weeks, to people-watch, and there she was, standing across the room, talking to a pretty blonde woman with a healthy figure. It was hard to say whether she was in charge.

But I spent a lot of time tracking Holly around the room with my eyes. Holly was a wide black woman, probably somewhere in her thirties as I was. She was about five-eight, with skin a little darker than chocolate. A mass of big, styled ringlet curls stood straight off the top of her head. She had soft brown eyes. Though she was wide, her belly didn’t protrude much. She was thick through the hips and ass, which is why I stared the way I did. Her butt was probably the widest I’d ever seen on a live person in the real world, with my own eyes. Maybe I’d get a chance to measure it.

The topic of the meetings was the erotic nature of females relieving themselves, and those who apparently had a fetish for that kind of thing. Obviously I certainly did. I discovered the meetings through the internet, like so much else is discovered these days. But the topic of said meetings was not clear until I sent an e-mail, which had gone to Holly’s inbox. My inquiry about the meetings had gotten me an invite to feel free to sit in and get a feel for things.

For the first couple of weeks, that’s what it was. I was the only guy there, and I had been ever since. There were probably a dozen women, ages maybe twenty-five to forty or so. Just my guess. Then one day I stepped out of the building where I worked as an inventory clerk, and right next door, within about 15 feet, was Holly. I had no idea she was a meeting-goer at that point. But, we knew each others names, and at least said hi to one another.

As I sat in the meeting about three weeks in, Holly made her way over and sat herself next to me on the love seat. The room as a whole was probably twenty feet square easily. Easily held the entire group, plus furniture. That evening, Holly turned to me and said, “Casey, you’ve been here for the last three weeks. Got issues?” She grinned, and I knew it was a comment in jest.

“Guess I have the same kink as everybody else here tonight,” I replied. That night, I’d watched half a dozen of the women pair off in twos, chatting and hugging and kissing. Then one pair got up and moved away from the seating area, more toward the middle of the space; a tallish brunette who was neither fat nor skinny, and a shorter, chunkier blonde with a bob haircut and tattoo sleeves on both arms.

The brunette faced me, and the blonde had her back to me , with her arms around the brunette. There was a long silence, and then there was a loud buzz, long, that could only be an indication that the brunette had farted, a deep, bass rumble that lasted several seconds. This far away, I noted no smell, but I bet the blonde did. I watched the brunette grin, and whisper in the blonde’s ear. The blonde stared into the brunette’s eyes, and the brunette laid out another blast. I watched the blonde’s nose wrinkle. The brunette’s ass had sounded like Thumper from Bambi, working his foot hard for five seconds.

The brunette kissed the blonde full on the lips. They separated and the brunette bowed. The she turned, looked at me and Holly, and gave a little two-finger salute off her forehead, with a million-dollar smile for good measure.

I had also watched a plump redhead and a slight, petite blonde, go into an enclosure a bit bigger than a phone booth. It was near one wall, and plumbing led out of the enclosure and into the wall. There was of course, a toilet. The redhead parked herself, and tucked the petite woman between her legs. After a brief silence, the redhead passed gas, producing a riot of noise in the bowl.

She braced herself, carefully leaning and cradling the small woman. The redhead’s face tensed and went slack, and I swear I heard her load hit the bowl. The redhead had let the blonde join her, right on the toilet, while she took a shit. Apparently that kind of thing was not off limits here. Wow, then.

Tonight as I left the meeting after watching the women chat and kiss and cuddle, and seeing two different pairs of women, one gassing her partner,, the other pair stepping into the toilet enclosure to pee, I looked out the door to see the rain dropping steadily. I looked back to see Holly coming toward me.

“Come on,” she said quietly. She led the way out onto the sidewalk, where we both paused under an awning. “You want a ride?” Holly asked me.

“It’s about a twenty-minute walk,” I said. “You don’t have to go out of your way.”

“My house is a five minute drive,” she said. “At least you’re out of the rain. Besides, how long have we been working next door to each other? We’ve been seeing each other at these meetings for two months. “You’re not walking,” she continued. “Would I ask you if you wanted a ride if it was out of my way?”

“Guess not,” I said. Holly opened her bursa escort umbrella, and pointed at a Mazda CX-7 SUV a short distance down the block, probably half a dozen years old but in very nice shape, and looking half its age. Off we went and I piled in. Holly checked traffic and moved far faster than her heft should have made possible. She pulled her door shut fifteen seconds after disappearing.. Seatbelts clicked and Holly checked traffic, signaled, and pulled away.

We drove five minutes and glided into a driveway after two short blocks and two right turns. Holly put the Mazda in park and killed the engine. It was new enough to have a fob and pushbutton engine start and stop. She reached across the console area and took my hand. She reached up and clicked an interior light. She sighed.

“Casey, you’ve never participated at one of the meetings. But you have this fetish going?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“What happens?” she asked. “How does it manifest itself?”

I sighed now. “I think a lot. Mind wanders. I dream. Mostly gas and pooping. Being pooped on by women. Smelling gas. Some peeing and getting peed on,” I admitted.

“What’s the biggest part of it?” Holly asked.

“Dreams,” I said. “But then sometimes I see a woman in my everyday life and daydream and get half-hard,” I shared sheepishly. Holly looked at me, really studying my face. “Would it be okay if I pass gas?” she asked.

“I guess so,” I decided. Without further delay, Holly’s right hand slid up and rubbed the back of my neck. With no indication of effort in her part, there was a deep, constant, bass raspberry of gas, massive in noise and ten full seconds. Rotten eggs hit the interior. Holly looked at me. I stared back. She lifted herself off the seat and ripped another monster, more rumble but not contained by the seat. Still ten seconds, and more rotten-egg odor spread through the interior.

Holly breathed deep. “Number three, on deck,” she noted. Another blast, this crackling sharply, similar in sound to the Thumper demonstration. More eggs, and the entire front cabin smelled intense. Holly breathed again. BBRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!! from her ass, through her straining black jeans. Stink ruled. The Mazda’s interior was leather, so smells were not very easily absorbed.

Holly went still and focused on my face.. Her hand slid off my neck, down to my lap. It worked my zipper, and she gently groped my thickened penis. “Holy shit, Case,” she noted. The smell was not fading fast. Holly kept fondling my cock and swung a leg onto my lap. She pushed my love rocket onto her thigh. Without warning, she gassed again, laying more bad eggs into the poor Mazda. My dick throbbed and I felt the cumshot start. Holly squeezed gently, and said, “Let it happen. Don’t fight it.” And that was it. I sprayed, watching a sticky pool attack Holly’s thigh.

“Fuck,” I sighed.

Suddenly there were headlights blazing through the rear window. Holly adjusted herself and turned. “Ann’s wheels,” she noted. Thirty seconds later Ann rapped gently on Holly’s window. It powered down and Holly said, “In the back. Casey’s side.” Ann slid in. The blonde I’d seen Holly visiting with. Ann’s nose flared in the dim interior light. “Wow. Holly showed off for you.” Ann looked at Holly, an said, “Are you going to take him in and poop together?”

“We haven’t talked about it. I was trying to break the ice a little bit,” Holly said quietly.

Ann said, leaning forward between the seats, “You do realize he watches you a lot every week at the meetings.”

Holly replied, “I could tell. I really didn’t mind.”

Ann’s voice was an octave lower than a high school senior’s, not throaty, but pleasant. She looked at me. “You and Holly gotta hook this up. You the quiet type?” I nodded. Ann’s hand met my shoulder as we looked at each other. “Holly’d be perfect. She’s easy-going, she’ll take good care of you.” Ann shifted on the seat, and suddenly there was a massive, deep crackle, and more stink in her one shot than two of Holly’s boomers.

Holly groped me again, throwing her thigh up. Ann opened her shirt and pulled my face to her tits. “Naughty,” she murmured in my ear. She loosed another raspberry noisemaker, just a few seconds long but packing stink. Short, wet kisses from Ann tickled my cheek as she held the back of my neck. My penis throbbed and I fired on Holly’s black jeans again..

Ann’s blue eyes flashed. She grinned. “Very, very good,” she noted, her smile easy and genuine.

She moved back and made to depart the Mazda. “Nice to meet you, Casey,” she said. Then, “Seriously. Honest to God. You and Holly. Meant for it. Things align for reasons, all the time. This is one,” she noted. “Take care, guys. Keep coming to my meeting joint.” Ann slid back through the door, checked traffic, and a moment later, her car pulled past us and hung a left at the next corner and disappeared.

Holly and I remained in the vehicle. Holly sighed and said, “I’ve malatya escort been kind of wanting a regular partner since I started coming to meetings.” She continued, “You said you dream. Ever think about me?”

I paused. “I have, before. More than once,” I said. Now she asked why I stared. “I like your hairdo,” I noted. Holly laughed. “And?” she prompted.

“Ass,” I said simply.

“Oh. Of course. Plenty of that,” she declared, still smiling. Holly hit the door opener, started the Mazda, and let it roll into her garage. She killed the engine and we got out. Holly led the way to the right, through the door and into her kitchen. The family room was straight beyond it, on a level slightly lower than the kitchen floor. Shoes came off and we headed to the family room, parking it on a microfiber sofa.

Now I could see another wall toward the rear of the room, to the left of, and behind the sofa, that formed an inner hallway, which meant bedrooms and bathroom, no doubt.

Holly hoisted me over her thigh and tucked me between her legs. “So,” she said, “two months of meetings we’ve been seeing each other in that social setting. How often have you been dreaming about me over that many weeks?”

“Two to three nights a week,” I noted.

“Wow, so a couple dozen dreams. And I’m the object. Do we have sex?” she asked.

I said, “Only a handful have had some “regular” sex.”

“So the pooping and some peeing and a lot of gas is a focus point.” I nodded.

She said, “So how many times, after a meeting, have you wanted to ask me if you could join me while I poop?”

“Half a dozen anyway,” I replied.

“And you chickened out every time.” I nodded.

Holly noted, “I just tried to kill you in my vehicle, and you survived.”

I answered, “If the cows in the leather had any “moo” left, they don’t now, because they’re dead.”

“Holly’s got talent,” she answered. “And she has to poop.”

I moved myself away from Holly. She went down the interior hall, turned and said, “Come when you’re ready.” She opened a door in the left wall and disappeared.

Do I or not? I’ve been thinking about her for weeks, having dreams about being her partner when she poops. Wanted to ask her for weeks. Her gas alone makes me come. Is she secretly hoping to draw me in? I sat silently, mulling and analyzing. Eventually, I got up, went to the door, tapped, and stepped in.

Holly stood half a dozen feet away, in front of the commode. She was completely nude. I stared at her wide torso, Each boob was as big as a half-inflated basketball. She turned her back and I gaped at the true marvel of her massive butt cheeks. Each was as round as an inflated basketball, and the overall width, straight across, might have been three feet.

Holly turned again and grinned at me. She wandered slowly across the small distance. She bodied up to me carefully, and I experienced one of the fastest hard-ons in my entire thirty-seven years. Holly’s very impressive knockers were pretty much eye level. But she didn’t face-plant me to them. She just pulled me toward her and held me. I followed suit, surprisingly able to basically get my arms around her broad waist. My mind jumped to her huge rump.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Holly asked.

“I’m hugging a chick with a huge ass,” I noted. My cock throbbed.

Holly laughed. “I knew you’d say that! Marshmallows…just love it.” There was a pause. Holly tooted, a long quiet raspberry. I felt her breathing gently on my neck. “I’m a thick bitch,” she said quietly. She moved her head and we looked at each other. I let her lead me to the toilet. She sat, and I took in her soft form folded to a sitting position. She opened her legs and eased me down.

She tugged me back a bit and held me, not gently, but not very firmly either. She tooted, hard, echoing impressively in the bowl. I counted to ten. Stink. Holly sighed. She took another breath, and I felt her tense. She grunted quietly. “OHHHHHHHH,” I heard. “My God.” Holly stared at me, and I heard the turd sliding out of her. She groaned while she pushed, and when the turd dropped out of her completely, there was a healthy splash. Major ripe stink. Holly groped my cock. She looked at me and grinned. “You might be kinda shy, but your dick will be fine.”

Holly let me off her lap and cleaned herself. I had a look in the bowl. Her turd was as big around as my fist, from one end to the other, except where the last inch or so tapered to a point. In total, it might have been close to eight inches long. Holly flushed and washed her hands. I did, for good measure. Holly collected her clothes and we left.

It was after dinner and full dark by now, and the rain had let up. Holly offered me a ride home and I directed her. She pulled to the curb and put the CX-7 in park. For several second we just sat there looking at each other. She ditched her seatbelt and leaned over to kiss me gently on the lips. We connected çanakkale escort for a couple seconds, and she gently pulled away. “Next week?” she asked.

“Probably,” I told her. She said, “You want a ride, here’s my number. She handed me a Post-It. I pulled my phone and input it, and shared mine, and watched her do the same. I opened the door on the Mazda. Holly slid a hand over my left one. “Next week,” she repeated. I said, “Yeah,” and slid out of the seat and closed the door carefully. I went to my door and unlocked it. I had one light burning in the living room, and once the door opened, I heard Holly slip away from the curb with her SUV.

I slogged through another week of routine; eat, work, shower, clean house, sleep, repeat. On Wednesday, I left my office location and happened to look next door and see Holly coming out of her location just down the street.

She waved. I waved back. She made a brisk walk toward me. “You are coming tonight, right?” I answered that I was, but I was going home to eat and freshen up first. She asked me if we should ride together. I told her I would ride back with her later, but on the trip to the meeting I wanted to walk because the weather was nice. She was okay with that, but stepped close and whispered in my ear, “Turkey.”

We parted ways and I did my thing at home and walked to the meeting building, actually located a block from Ann’s house. It was in a cul-de-sac, no houses within sight to the left, right or rear. Ann’s place was really the only one in the vicinity. Holly had e-mailed me an address and I had Google mapped it for directions. In short, no one was any the wiser with the nondescript building, and it’s address was guarded. Ann owned all the land around the building.

Vehicles in Ann’s drive and in front of the house, including Holly’s wheels. As I stepped through the door, Ann spotted me and held up a hand in a “Stop” gesture. She hustled across the room.

“Casey,” she said, “welcome back. I wanted to say to you, a couple of the other regulars want to work with you tonight. You remember the tall brunette who tooted with the fireplug blonde chick? She wants to treat you to some noise. That redhead who pooped with the little blonde last week too? She wants to see if you’ll join her. Just think about it. We don’t need to know right away. They’ll break away a little later and find you and Holly.”

“Does Holly know?” I asked. Ann looked back into the room. “The brunette, Misty, is talking to her right now. The redhead, Eve, will probably check in in a bit.” Ann turned and I followed and joined Holly. Misty was still there, and she said hi and greeted me by name when I appeared.

It seemed everyone was present, and there was the usual talking in small groups. Misty and Eve’s partners hugged each other for some gas, from the muscular little blonde. The petite woman nestled in and grinned while the stouter woman coaxed three long, deep crackling reports into being. The chunky blonde pecked the recipient on the cheek. The other women had sat in a group, near enough the action to hear it and take in smells. I heard some murmurs of approval.

Holly apparently wanted some approval as well. “How was the gas last week? We cracked jokes, but were you uncomfortable at all?”

“No,” I said. “It didn’t smell good, but I wasn’t uncomfortable with you.”

She said, “Should we go over and contribute a few of my noisemakers?” A long pause from me. Holly said, “Don’t worry. Nobody else will jump your bones. Just you and me and another soft, warm, noisy hug with Holly,” she assured me..

We wandered slowly over to the group seated on the big sectional sofa. Misty and Eve and their partners grinned at me. The other six women all offered small gestures and smiles. Holly turned her back and pulled me close, and we wrapped our arms around each other. Holly was wearing black jeans again, and one of the women said, “Holy lovely hell. Ass. My God. Yes, please.” Holly turned and grinned directly at her. I leaned into Holly, my head on her shoulder. I felt her breathe deeply.

Without further delay, Holly turned loose a long, deep rumble. I counted to ten. Holly’s lips worked gently on my neck. Sulfur tainted the air. After a brief pause, Holly tooted again, mirroring the noise and duration of her first effort. I breathed, oddly comfortable with Holly’s amazing odor.

A couple of the other women, not so much. They had their hands in front of their noses, the way people do when something smells bad. I felt Holly breath again, and she blasted an ungodly loud, crackling monster from her ass. Ten more seconds gone. I watched one woman flare her nostrils, then wrinkle her nose.

Holly sighed with the effort and the relief. Not long later, another one started, a second powerful crackle. I felt Holly lean into me and gasp. Another ten-count, and the impressive popping and crackling soundtrack ended. “Fuck,” Holly gasped in my ear.

“Holly, I’m gonna come,” I noted quietly. Holly laughed, still panting after her mighty ass music. “Eve, American Pie,” she said loudly. Eve reached into a rear pocket of her pants and came out with a tube sock. Eve tugged my zipper. She carefully fondled my member out through the opening, and slid the tube sock over it. She rubbed gently and said, “Shoot it, man.” So I did, liquid love into the sock.

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