My Best Friend's Crazy Fat Sister Ch. 02

With Zoe's bras and knickers now in the washing machine and looking very much out of place with my clothes, I prepared to close the lid but Zoe stopped me. "Just one more pair," she said.

Zoe had no other knickers in her hands. "There isn't another pair," I pointed out.

"Yes there is, the ones I'm wearing now silly," Zoe laughed. "Now turn around Sean, don't you know it's not polite for guys to look at girls who are taking their knickers down?"

I obediently turned around, but could not resist the slightest peak as Zoe's panties reached her ankles, and the girl stepped out of them and picked them up. "You can turn around now Sean," said Zoe.

I was struggling to conceal a growing erection problem, and this was not helped by Zoe dangling the white panties with butterfly print design in her fingers before putting them into the machine with the rest of her underwear.

"Thanks Sean, that's a real help," said Zoe as I closed the lid and started the washing machine. Seeing Zoe return to her bedroom going commando, her bare bum and pussy now barely covered by a tee-shirt didn't help at all.

Walking like the time I pulled a muscle in my back in an attempt to conceal my throbbing erection, I made for the bathroom, closing and locking the door and lifted the lid and seat of the toilet to have a pee, but my erection was not going to cooperate.

I could smell the odor of Zoe's bowel movements lingering near the loo, but given the amount of time that had passed since Zoe had been to the toilet obviously the smell had dissipated somewhat. My eyes went to the blue wet bag hanging next to the toilet, and I could see that it was starting to bulge and was wondering when Zoe planned on cleaning it out and washing her reusable cloth toilet paper.

Zoe had been absolutely correct on one thing, the wet bag stopped any smells from the soiled contents within. Never once had I smelled any odors from the bag, despite the dirty cloths that Zoe placed inside it each time she went to the toilet. Zoe was right when she said that she went to the toilet a lot. And I was out most of the day, so she obviously went to the toilet during the day when I was at work.

I looked at Zoe's wet bag and not for the first time I touched the mysterious blue object, pondering what it looked like inside. My fingers went to the zip, again not for the first time. But while on the previous occasions I had lost my nerve, this time my trembling fingers opened the zip and I opened the bag to see what lay inside.

There may not have been any smells from outside the bag, but inside it was a very different story. The scent of stale urine was obvious, as was the overwhelming odor of poo. I looked in the bag at Zoe's used cloth toilet paper. To one side, a white cloth had no poo stains but a huge dried yellow urine stain where Zoe had wiped her pussy after a pee. Another square of towel, turquoise in color, was soaked with pee and obviously the one Zoe had used to dry her vagina during her last visit to the toilet.

Most of the other cloths were stained by Zoe's feces to some degree or another. Some were relatively small, for example a blue cloth with yellow and white flowers on it had brown skid marks all over it, but they looked no worse than those that might have appeared on Zoe's knickers had she been negligent in wiping her bottom after a bowel movement. A green cloth bore similar skid mark stains from its rendezvous with Zoe's bum.

Other cloths however, were absolutely soiled with smelly shit. Two white cloths with pink flowers were smeared in vast quantities of Zoe's poo, huge brown stains covering most of the surface of the squares of cut up towels. This poo looked fresh and damp, and I presumed that Zoe had used these squares on her most recent visit to the toilet about 10 minutes ago. A light blue cloth, a yellow cloth, a lilac cloth and another white cloth were likewise covered in my housemate's messy and smelly shit.

I looked at some of the other cloths. One of the towels Zoe had cut up to make cloth toilet paper was presumably a kids' towel, pink in color with cartoon fairies on it, and one of these cloths bore a dried yellow-brown poo stain that suggested that Zoe had been having loose bowel movements -- borderline diarrhea -- when she used it to wipe her anus. It covered the pink cloth and the white fairies in considerable quantities.

I then saw the blue cloth with the smiling orange sun cut from a beach towel I had looked at the other day. Now it was absolutely covered in Zoe's dried shit, massive smelly brown stains all over the cartoon sun. On this cloth, I could see that Zoe had eaten corn that is impossible for humans to fully digest, the evidence of this clear in Zoe's poo.

My head spinning and just not from the smells within the wet bag, I zipped it up again and replaced it on the hook. There were many more smelly, soiled cloths in there obscured from my view, but I wasn't about to put my hand into the bag to investigate further. I felt weak and trembling, unable to believe what I had just seen and my erection throbbed. Again, I felt bad about looking at Zoe's private things that were none of my business -- this time her shit-stained reusable toilet paper in the wet bag - but I finally could not hold out from looking in the bag. I wondered what the cloths would look like during Zoe's time of the month, but I guess I would have to wait another few weeks to see this for real.

I also pondered why I was so turned on by this. I knew Emily was totally opposed to using reusable toilet paper from what Zoe had said, but even if she did use this method to clean herself up when on the toilet there was no way I would go to her and Adam's house and make an excuse to go to the bathroom so I could open the wet bag and perve on her dirty reusable cloth toilet paper covered in Emily's piss, shit or menstrual blood. It wouldn't even occur to me, and wouldn't turn me on if I did it, even though Emily was a beautiful woman. So what was so different with Zoe? Why was I such a perve with her?

When I finally got my erection under control, I got some cereal for breakfast and Zoe, still barefoot but now dressed in a tee-shirt and skinny jeans that showed her considerable muffin top around her tummy, joined me. I heard the washing machine finish, and said to Zoe. "Okay, did you want to go and get your clothes out?"

Zoe shook her head. "No, it's all good. You do it."

"Are you sure, it's got your panties in there and I thought you might be uncomfortable ..."

Zoe laughed. "I think you're the uncomfortable one, Sean. They're just my knickers, they don't bite. You can get them out of the machine and hang them out, I don't mind."

"Are you sure? It's just that your knickers are personal and I didn't want to ..."

"It's perfectly fine Sean, you have my permission to handle my bras and my panties," Zoe assured me.

It felt strange, very strange hanging out bras and knickers on the line with my clothes and again I got hard, but was able to get it under control. In the morning, I got a call from Adam asking if I wanted to meet up for lunch. I had a job on the outskirts of the CBD, so my schedule was all clear and I arranged the time to meet Adam.

We made our way down busy Swanston Street which was bustling with people. We talked about the football as a means of avoiding the obvious topic we needed to discuss. We reached the Princes Bridge and crossed the river into Southbank, Melbourne's iconic Flinders Street Station directly across the Yarra, the sunlight reflecting off Melbourne's tallest buildings the Rialto on the northern side and the Eureka tower on the southern side where we walked.

Adam looked back at the Princes Bridge and used this to bring Zoe into the conversation. "Remember when Zoe threw up off that bridge and over the boat below?"

I laughed. "Yes, I remember that."

"How are things going with Zoe?" Adam asked. "Is she giving you any problems?"

"No, everything is okay," I said. "She did leave a wet towel on the floor one morning, but that's about it." I did not disclose to Adam that I had sniffed the towel his big sister had left on the floor but failed to smell her pussy, but had been successful at smelling her pussy on her dirty knickers left on the floor several days after this.

"You're lucky then," said Adam. "There's a couple of things I should have warned you about Zoe last week, but with everything the way it was I didn't want you to run to the hills."

I feigned ignorance. "What sort of things?"

Adam looked uncomfortable. "Well, over the last few years Zoe has picked up some unusual, alternate bathroom habits. I wish that she would try to help the environment in other ways, saving whales or something."

"You mean the blue wet bag hanging next to the toilet and the plastic container full of cut up towels that now sits on the toilet cistern?"

Adam blushed. "Yes, exactly that. Mate, I'm really sorry about that."

I shrugged casually. "It's really not a problem. What Zoe does when she goes to the toilet is entirely her own business. It's got nothing to do with me, I don't have any issues."

"There's also ..." Adam began.

"The red bag that only appears every four weeks?" I said. "Zoe already filled me in on that. Again, there's no problem it's entirely up to Zoe to manage that part of her life."

"Once more, sorry," said Adam, his face blushing as red as his hair. "But you seem pretty relaxed about it all."

I of course did not close to Adam that I had listened to Zoe on the toilet on several occasions, smelling the aftermath of her bowel movements after she finished. Nor did I say that I liked to listen to her take a shower. I also did not disclose that that very morning I had opened up Zoe's blue wet bag, looking at his fat sister's shitty, smelly reusable cloth toilet paper, nor did I tell him that I had been getting my rocks off perving at Zoe's reusable cloth sanitary napkins in the storage box awaiting his big sister's next period.

"I just um, leave Zoe in privacy to do what she needs to do," I said, knowing with some shame that how I behaved was hardly respecting Zoe's privacy, in fact the opposite.

"You're amazing that all this doesn't bother you," said Adam. "It drove Emily nuts, she couldn't handle it at all. She said it was dirty and unhygienic, and the kids were asking why Aunty Zoe had a container of cut up towels on the toilet cistern and what Aunty Zoe's blue bathroom bag they weren't allowed to touch was for. Emily won that battle, and she struggled with the red bag situation too but as that was only once every four weeks she would tolerate it, but only just. I didn't want to think about it at all, with Zoe being my sister. I mean, if had just been the bathroom issues we might have been able to work around them, but with everything else she did to drive Emily mad ... I can't thank you enough, taking Zoe off our hands. Just let me know though if Zoe starts giving you any trouble. You know how crazy she can be."

"So far, so good," I assured Adam. "So, how is Emily going?"

A smile came across Adam's face. "She's going around the house singing show tunes. She has been in such a good mood since Zoe left. If Emily continues this way, we'll have kid number three in nine months' time."

"That good?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," grinned Adam. "In fact, I'm actually getting a bit tired down below. Last night I got home and Emily had sent the kids to have dinner with her parents. Emily herself was on our bed, dressed up in her old Catholic school uniform -- the white blouse, the blue tie, the short blue tartan skirt, the white ankle socks and the black Mary-Jane shoes - her hair up in a pony-tail. I'd barely stepped inside the bedroom door and she was all over me. And in the last few days, Emily and I haven't once showered alone." Again Adam grinned and licked his lips.

"I'm glad things are going so well for you and Emily now," I said.

"Well is an understatement," said Adam. "I feel bad for you. Emily and I are so happy, and you're the one stuck with Zoe."

"It really is okay," I assured him, trying to sound casual. If Adam thought I was trying to sound casual, he would no doubt have thought that I was doing so because things weren't okay. But for me, things weren't just okay. They were more than okay.

Friday was relatively uneventful. Zoe this morning was dressed in short blue pajamas that really exposed her fat body, but I thought it was great, especially as the waist elastic in her pajama bottoms kept riding down to show her flowery white knickers.

I went to work, and when I returned at five I saw Zoe's bare feet dangling over the top of an armchair in the lounge, the television on. Zoe herself, still wearing her short pajamas, was lying backwards in the chair, watching television upside down.

"Um Zoe, is everything okay here?" I asked her uncertainly.

"Oh yes," she said in a dreamy way, her eyes flickering all over the room. "I just like to watch TV upside down, sometimes."

Zoe had reverted to her normal position sitting on the couch beside me to eat her dinner -- a large pizza, while I ate chicken salad. I had an apple for dessert, Zoe ice-cream. I looked at the chubby blonde as she sat barefoot on the couch eating. Tomorrow would mark a week since Zoe had moved in. What would the next week bring?

END OF CHAPTER 2 - TO BE CONTINUED