About a dozen years ago I was on “intimate” terms with a girl who would involuntarily shit herself whenever she had a particularly intense orgasm.
She was a trust-fund kid who managed to own a house and new car while working four hours a week as a sound technician at a local club. She was given a “normal” name at birth but was so pretentious that she changed it to that of a French humanist philosopher while in her mid-teens.
She was vaguely aware she would never win any beauty pageants, a fact which seemed to lend a rancid bitterness to her personality. Yet for all the sourness in her face and personality, she had a surprisingly good body, her ass especially. I even fucked her in the ass a few times, although it never led to defecation.
But a half-dozen or so times over the course of our “friendship,” she’d emit Vienna-sausage-sized pooplets after oohing and aahing and screaming my name.
The first time it happened, she barked at me to leave the room. I could tell there was something wrong, but I couldn’t see or smell anything amiss. I simply sensed something ominous lurking in the bedroom like a shark hiding in the briny ocean deep.
I asked her what was wrong and she again sternly insisted that I leave the room. Cowering naked in the cold tile bathroom, I wondered what had happened.
After removing the sheets and wiping herself clean, she allowed me back into the bedroom and explained the “situation.” She was, of course, mortified. I was, of course, flattered that my thrusting had led to such a total loss of her muscular control…even the gasket around her poop chute.
Apparently this happens to other women, but then again some women have orgasms as a result of defecating, so I’m not sure what any of it means in an interplanetary, ontological sense. A commenter claiming to be a woman on a “Bowel Movement During Sex” thread claimed it had happened to her thrice—each time “at the peak of ‘intense’ orgasm.
Well, at least I gave her pleasure. I’m very considerate that way.