New Year Relief

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It's a New Year and time for another good poo.
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Having loaded the breakfast crockery into the dishwasher, Anne considered how she might spend the New Year Bank Holiday. Brian had gone off to follow the hunt which traditionally met in the Market Place on a New Year's morning, whilst Barnaby and Adam had left early for a non-league football match up in Yorkshire. She knew Adam had left without draining his spuds and that they'd be in for a long drive, a thought which rather turned her on. Aroused by the knowledge that her lodger had embarked on a three hour plus journey without going to the toilet, Anne considered her own needs. She needed to do rather more than a pee, but was in no great hurry and certainly didn't intend wasting a golden opportunity for a little naughtiness whilst it was there.

Although she had a comfortable feeling of fullness, her own need was not yet quite what might be considered urgent. If anything she'd been rather constipated since Christmas, only managing one good poo on Boxing Day and another three days later on December 29th. It wasn't altogether surprising though. Mother had come to stay over Christmas and she'd insisted on cooking the Christmas lunch, a six course affair which was huge in the sense that only Mother could have made it. Spiced parsnip soup followed by smoked fish preceded the main Turkey course which, predictably enough, was accompanied by all the usual trimmings and some unique to Elizabeth Glenning too. Cheese and biscuits had, in French style, followed the main course. As if that hadn't been enough, Christmas pudding served with lashings of brandy sauce, was followed by mince pies and whipped cream, not forgetting the obligatory coffee and post-prandial Port. It was scarcely remarkable that they'd all ended up feeling stuffed - quite literally.

Unable to stop herself if she'd wanted, Anne had, unsurprisingly, done some smelly farts during the Queen's speech. This had naturally aroused the disgust of her mother and resulted in a rather bitchy exchange which neither of them had been able to resist. Thankfully Mother had returned home on Boxing Day, leaving Anne – and her bowels – to do as they pleased.

A week on the memory of that huge meal still made Anne feel a little unwell and she was convinced that part of it still lurked somewhere in her system.

With the house to herself, Anne could easily have put coffee and a magazine on a tray, gone up to the bathroom and had a long, smelly poo, stinking the place out, confident that all smell would long have disappeared long before any of the others returned. However she was in the mood for something much naughtier than that. She had it in mind to take a toilet roll and drive to the woods outside Woodchester where she'd find a favourite clearing, drop her jeans and squat down for an amazing alfresco poo. It was just the thing for a cool, sunny Bank Holiday Monday morning. Grabbing a couple of old newspapers and throwing them into a carrier, along with a roll of loo paper and some wet wipes, Anne stepped outside into the crisp January air, locking the door behind her.

As she climbed into the car, Anne let a couple of good tell-tale farts out. It was as though her butt sensed what lay ahead. More farts followed as she put her keys in the ignition and started out on the journey to Woodchester Forest. It was a good thirty minute drive away but she didn't anticipate much traffic and expected to get there easily enough without any risk of pooing herself.

Fifteen minutes into the journey she was farting steadily and her bladder, which hadn't been emptied for fourteen hours, was beginning to ache. Approaching the outskirts of Woodchester her heart sank as she saw the bypass was closed for road works. Why was it, she mused, that the Highways Department had to do roadworks on a Bank Holiday of all days? Was it that they expected no one to be on the road? Honestly!

Even though it was a Bank Holiday there were plenty of people on the road and, being diverted through the city, added to her journey significantly. Still cutting smelly farts, Anne was now in no doubt that the pleasant feeling of being overdue for a poo had turned to desperation – desperation which increased by the minute as she drove through the commercial heart of lower Woodchester, up past the Cathedral, Prison, Hospital and finally the University where, in her younger days, she'd lectured.

Leaving the city behind her, Anne drove as fast as she dared down the country lanes to Woodchester Forest. Unable to stop herself farting if she'd wanted, Anne's need to poo was growing stronger by the minute and she was desperately close to pooing herself. Finding a convenient lay-by, she pulled up and gingerly got out of the car, taking care to reach for the carrier bag containing the items she'd need.

It wasn't long before she found a favourite clearing where she hoped to drop her jeans and unburden herself. Before she could do so though, an enormous fart escaped from her poor, straining anus and she followed through. So near and yet so far. She'd been seconds away from relieving herself safely on the forest floor, now she'd shit herself.

Removing her jeans as deftly as she could, Anne then lowered her white Sloggi Maxi panties and surveyed the damage. They were quite full, although the massive lump of poo she'd passed was fairly solid. Carefully discarding her panties, Anne squatted on the forest floor and finished her poo. It didn't surprise her in the least that there was much more to come. Five large turds came out in addition to the mess she'd already made in her panties. Releasing a massive torrent of golden pee onto the ground beneath her, she sighed with relief. Finished at last, she tore of some sheets if toilet paper and wiped. There was shit everywhere. She'd made some messes in her time but this was in a class of its own! In the process of cleaning up she even managed to get her hands dirty and was glad she'd had the foresight to bring some wet wipes. They weren't the same thing as soap and water but, under the circumstances, they did a pretty good job. Eventually the clean up was complete and she pulled her jeans back up. They were a little dirty but, unlike the panties, were in a washable state and would see another day.

Arriving back at the car, Anne used what remained of the wet wipes to give her hands another clean. They'd need to be washed a time or two before all trace of the smell disappeared completely and, once home, she'd need a good shower as well as a change. That done she could then log onto her computer and share her New Year Bank Holiday experience with others on an online forum she had recently begun to frequent.

Driving back to Woodchester she couldn't help wondering how Adam and Barnaby were faring on their journey up to Yorkshire. She knew Adam would be determinedly holding it and Barnaby would be teasing him pretty mercilessly. If they had to stop off at service stations she knew that it would almost certainly be for Barnaby's benefit. She knew his limitations well enough, probably better than he did himself. After all, he couldn't hope to have a cock the size he'd got and equal Adam's holding capabilities. Her jeans might have been soiled but Anne had more than a sneaking suspicion that there would be at least one pair of soaked jeans to go in the wash later on, if not two. She could see 2012 getting off to a good start!

The End

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 3 years ago

I enjoyed the tale. I hope the boys enjoyed themselves as well. Its always good to wet your pants with a good friend.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
Mmmmmmm

I want to lick your butt hole after your poo & clean you all up! Delicious

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