Sharing

All around them the air is both still and vibrant. Fireflies pop in and out of existence like strange subatomic particles in the yard below, and in the distance they can hear the drone of a lawnmower. Further in the distance car horns usher faint cries as people navigate through the city.

"Jo?"

"Yeah?"

Howard's cheek compressed into her lap, he is mumbling slightly. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Joanne knew this was coming. "Sure," she says.

With lazy abandon he flips onto his back and stares up at her. "Why did you stop playing?" he asks as he nestles further into her crotch, sending tiny waves of electricity through her body.

She sighs heavily and looks down at him. "I had a breakdown," she says simply.

Howard looks surprised in that way shared by people who travel life with a smart yet idealistic optimism. "But I've seen you play," he says. "You're a natural performer."

"I guess not natural enough."

"I don't know about that." He closes his eyes. "Could you get me behind the ear? Ah, that's it."

"He's seen me play," she thinks to herself. She wonders when and where, and thinks back to several years ago, when she was touring throughout Europe. She tries to picture him in the audience of one of her shows, taking part in a standing ovation at the end, or perhaps arranging to have flowers sent to her backstage.

"I don't think anyone saw it coming," she continues. "I don't think I even saw it coming." The words speed up her pulse perceptibly, but she feels compelled to give him a full answer. "There I was backstage one night, and I just told everybody that I couldn't go on. They were all running around, frantic, and here I was sitting down behind the curtain. I was immovable. After that, everything went south. People who I thought were my friends abandoned me." She stops to watch a car drive by, and then continues. "And then I got into this horrible depression, and my marriage fell apart."

Howard's eyes pop open. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She shrugs. "It's all behind me now."

He gets up. Their faces are centimeters apart. He can smell the wine and pasta on her breath. "Now why don't I believe you?" he says.

He closes in and their lips touch, and then he pulls away. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

"Could you . . ."

"Uh-hu?"

"I know it's asking a lot . . ."

"Just tell me already."

"Could you play something for me?"

Her eyes arch up in shock. "I don't know if I could do that."

"It would mean the world to me."

She thinks hard about this. "I'll tell you what," she says, finally. "I'll consider it if you do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Can we stop all of this talking nonsense and just kiss?"

Without another word they come together, their lips locking tightly, forcing deep inhales of breath through their nostrils as their mouths occupy themselves with more important matters. While their tongues thrust about in exploration Joanne hastily repositions herself so that Howard is on top of her. All thoughts of performance anxiety gone now, in her mind she surrenders to him fully. If he should rip her pants off and take her right there, on the porch, for the whole neighborhood to see, then she would let him.

She can feel his cock against her thigh, quickly engorging with blood. It makes her wet, makes her pussy radiate with heat and urgency, and she opens her legs so he can lean in and put pressure on her sex.

But there is still the matter of the night's main event. Dinner has settled; her body dutifully metabolized it, stripped the nutrients away and left the remainder compacted into her rectum, along with days worth of other waste that she has been storing up. Her body sounds the whistle, signaling a drastic need for expulsion.

"Howard"

He is lost in himself and nibbling at her neck.

"Howard?"

"Yeah?"

There is no delicate way to put this, so she just comes out with it. "I've got to . . . um . . . go now."

He shoots up, reality coming into sharp focus.

"Really? Now?"

She nods, and runs her hand through is hair as his eyes dart back and forth across her face in excitement.

"C'mon," she says, taking his hand and motioning toward the house with her head. "Let's go inside."

The house is dark and silent. Leading Howard up the stairs to the bathroom on the second floor, Joanne feels oddly like a teenager on her way to lose her virginity.

The antiseptic white light of the bathroom takes a moment's getting used to. Howard shuts the door behind him.

"I hope that's okay," he says, noticing how much smaller the room has just become. Joanne gives her approval by moving in and kissing him deeply.

This is it, no turning back after this point. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" she says.

Howard answers by taking her hand and placing it on his crotch. She squeezes down, feels his cock pulsate under her touch. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."

The bathroom is longer than it is wide, with the sink to the immediate right of the entrance, and the toilet at the far end, sitting beneath a small window and adjacent to the bathtub.

"Why don't you sit down over here," Joanne says as she points to the edge of the tub.

He waits for her to unbutton her jeans and sit down on the toilet seat, and then takes his place awkwardly; it is the first time she has seen him do anything remotely self-conscious, and for her it loosens the tension considerably.

They are so close that he can see tiny creases in her hip, the result of her slight forward bend.

She isn't ready yet to look directly at him, so instead she stares at her feet.

"Are you still okay with this?" he asks. She nods and closes her eyes. Her cunt is practically dripping with anticipation. In her gut she feels that sublime pit of urgency and release.

But her bowels, so full and ready not only minutes ago, have suddenly turned cold.

"Oh, don't do this now!" she thinks to herself. "Come on, Jo. You can do this."

She pushes with audible exertion. Nothing.

"If your not ready," Howard says.

"No. Just be quiet. Please," she says while gently patting his knee. She regains her concentration. The shit is there; it just needs to come out. "It's just a matter of will," she reasons to herself.

Pushing again now, from under the seat they both hear a high pitched gurgle as she expels some gas. Tiny plops accompany the fart; they hit the water below and pack a pungent aroma that quickly infiltrates the air around them. It smells like a mixture of garlic and bitter eggs.

"I'm sorry," she says immediately, a reflex.

"It's okay," Howard replies. And then, after clearing his throat, and in a slightly husky tone: "I like that." She hazards a glance in his direction. His cock is harder than ever now, practically bursting through his pants. This is very encouraging. She goes back to the task at hand, and opening up a little more, starts pissing.

"Is it okay if I touch myself?" she asks. She can feel him nodding.

As the stream of urine hits the water below she slides her pants all the way to her ankles and spreads her legs. Leaning forward slightly, her first two fingers glide through the air and land in the cleft of her pussy. They touch her swollen clit, making her jolt. She hasn't realized how close to climax she is already. Slowly, as if she was working her way toward a distant crescendo, she starts massaging the outer lips of her cunt, ever so often coming around to rub the engorged bulb perched atop her slit. Howard follows her lead; without taking his eyes off her his hand find its way to the hard-on perching up his pants. With long, harsh strokes he starts rubbing it.

Underneath, Joanne's asshole burns slightly from the acrid shit. She brings her other hand down and inserts one finger, then two into her pussy. With the first hand she continues rubbing her clit, stopping to push out another fart. Her asshole blossoms like her button as a thick piece of shit inches its way out, forcing open her sphincter as it does so and sending tiny, intense shockwaves to her pussy.

Deeper the fingers go as the shit slides out and the orgasm builds. Howard reaches out and caresses her leg, and all inhibitions melt away, any remnants of shame dissolving into the animal heat and foul stench generated by her body.

Through his grip she can feel Howard's desires, how he wants to hear those ugly sounds issuing forth from her asshole, how his mind is currently fixated on the unspeakable substance slinking out of her body, how he is pleasuring himself alongside her, in this most unnatural way that, for her, has always been so natural.

She is almost there now. She staggers up onto her feet, bending forward slightly and steadying herself on a towel rack. Faster her fingers move until they are like a piston in and out of her cunt, making slapping noises that fill the room.

She pushes again. It is much easier now. A loud burst of gas escapes, followed by a long piece of soft shit that quickly flops into the water below to make a big splash. Her threshold reached, she collapses forward as wave after wave of sublime pleasure tears her body into pieces.

She sits back down, removes her sticky fingers, now covered in pussy juice. Howard tries to rise but she gently implores him to stay seated so that she can finish. With trembling body she slowly rolls out some toilet paper and tries her best to calmly fold it. Then, turning her head back, she methodically wipes her asshole, looking at the toilet paper before discarding it into the bowl.

Now she pulls Howard to his feet. She playfully traces the outline of his erection before unzipping his pants and pulling them to the ground.

"I bet you want to come, huh?"

He nods fervently. His engorged dick practically leaps out of his underpants, the head is sticky with pre-come. The two take off all of their clothes; they are completely naked in front of each other. Joanne spins him around presses her body into his, so that he can feel her bush rubbing up on his ass, her hard nipples mashed into his back, her arm wrapped tightly around his chest.

"Now it's your turn," she whispers in his ear as she cocks his head down. The mess in the toilet bowl is almost enough to make him cum. But she wants to help. She grips his cock and forcefully jerks it, pressing herself into him as hardly as possible. In a manner of seconds Howard is arching his back and moaning as his dick erupts wildly with a thick jet of semen that splatters all over the toilet bowl. Joanne watches in amazement at the volume of fluid coming from his body, smiling contentedly. His body convulsing violently, she keeps jacking him with slower and slower motions until his semen drips down her knuckles and his cock is too limp for further treatment.

He spins around and the two lean into each other.

"Next time," he says in a breathy whisper, "I want to wipe you."

She puts her head into his shoulder. "Okay."

IV.

Now the two are in the lesson room, naked; Joanne on her small bench and Howard close by on a stool. He is leaning forward, a glass of wine in his hand, completely lost in the swirling melodies working their way from under Joanne's delicate fingertips. The breeze back, the room is once again infused with the sweet aroma of lilac, this time mixed with that lazy richness of midnight summer air.

Her eyes are closed and she is imagining herself on stage once again. Her heart rate normal, there is no nausea, no shaking or sweating.

With a dramatic sweep, she comes down hard on the ivory and Howard starts clapping as the last few notes resonate off into the night.

"Wonderful, that was wonderful!"

He moves next to her on the bench seat.

"You need to get back out there," he says. "You need to keep playing." She smiles and kisses his cheek. He moves his leg over so that he is straddling the bench and she does the same. They come together, their arms draped over each other's shoulders.

"Can I be honest with you?" Howard asks. She nods. "In the bathroom, I wanted you so bad. I don't know how to describe it. I almost wanted to consume you."

"I know. I could feel it," she says. She looks down and sees his cock getting hard again.

"Mmm . . . making you hard just thinking about it, huh?" She looks up at the clock. "Oh my, she says playfully. "It appears to be getting late."

"Really," Howard responds with a wicked grin. "Then I guess I better get going."

"Not so fast," she says as she inches closer. The shaft of his cock nestles into her thick patch of pubic hair; her lips are kissing his balls.

"But tomorrow is a busy day," he says.

"That may very well be the case," she says as she coyly looks away and presses into him further, smiling as his body trembles, "But I haven't told you about mornings yet."

"What about mornings?"

"Wait." Her brow narrows and her body tenses up. "That was a fart," she says, and Howard rolls his head back and takes in the foul aroma.

She leans in and nibbles at his hear, whispering at intervals. "Mornings . . . my dear . . . are when I usually have to go."

At these words she feels his cock twitch. She giggles.

"Then I guess I'd better spend the night?"

Joanne partially stands up now and gently pushes Howard's forehead into her breasts. She holds it there with one hand, and with the other reaches down and slowly, methodically strokes his cock. She sits back down, using her hand to guide his cock into her, savoring every nerve impulse as his dick glides into her cunt.

"Yeah," she moans. "I think you'd better spend the night."