Professional Assistance Preferred


Delicately, she lifted her entire, nicely-formed turd out of my lap. Needing no urging, I moved from the toilet as she made room. The waste hit the toilet bowl with a minor splash. She added the used TP, and flushed. She soaped the gloves thoroughly, rinsed, and pulled them off. She grabbed a towel from the cabinet behind the door, threw it down in front of the toilet, sopped up any excess urine, and told ne to drop my shorts on it. Thankfully I had gone commando; no boxers under the shorts. Down they went. Jen stood watching me and immediately noticed my glorious wood.

"Yeah, we need to do something about that. That's probably the third time you've been sprung without firing the big gun. You need that," Jen decided. With that, she moved the towel and shorts out to the laundry and returned. She sauntered over, put her hands at my waist, and stepped in close. Her pelvis touched my standard equipment. I wrapped my hands around Jen and leaned into her.

She simply began grinding her pelvis into my stiffened cock. After about thirty seconds, I was ready to unload. I moved my arms up, squeezed Jen a little tighter, and thought about the fine, fine woman who was working all her charms and skills on me until I came. I groaned like a satiated animal as it happened, willing my dick to pump everything in it at the moment all over this woman's skin.

When it was over, I slumped. Jen, bless her heart, held me up. There was a sticky layer on her lower belly; she apparently didn't mind. We stepped away from each other and she nudged me toward the shower. She looked down, observing the wet slickness on her torso. Wide-eyed, she shook her head and looked at me, opining, "Jesus, Alan, been awhile?"

"A fair stretch," I confirmed. "I can resort to nice dreams of you for a while after this, and get some relief now and then," I added.

"Knock yourself out," she allowed. We proceeded to take turns in the shower, relaxed upstairs while awaiting a load of laundry, and walked to the deli again for exercise and lunch. Returning, we killed the afternoon half-interested in a movie. The other half was interested in each other. She started by kissing me in that gentle way of hers, and it was familiar enough for me to respond in kind now.

We pulled the drapes in the kitchen and living room windows; Jen displayed her wonderful (to me) figure, sat on the couch, and parked me between her long legs for another massage, identical to the first, during which I was in a temporary, still-aware coma of sheer contentment.

When she was done, Jen held me in her lap, warmth from her bare self radiating through me and leaving a pleasant endorphin rush and fuzziness in my belly. When she put my head in her lap, playing her hands over my hair and face, all I could do was groan and fall asleep. She prodded me awake sometime later. She was still nude.

I climbed into her lap again, facing her and cupping her face and running a hand through her soft mass of dark hair. Then I buried my face in her chest, rubbing it with my hands. God, she was lovely.

Later, and regrettably, we separated and Jen dressed. A while after that, I had my nose in a book, and Jen was working on dinner. After about three hours, we sat down to a beef pot roast out of the crock pot, potatoes, gravy, and carrots. I ate generously, but I noticed Jen ate more than I thought she could hold. We lounged for a bit to let things settle, both of us drinking a lot of water to aid digestion after the heavy food. Neither of us suffered discomfort from overeating, but I guessed Jen would likely treat me to another good log from her large intestine tomorrow.

Letting the evening wear on to bedtime, we crashed with me in nothing but boxers and Jen opting for her birthday suit (she was unabashedly comfortable within her personal nudity, I guess, and I sure as hell wasn't complaining.) We were entwined again as sleep came, apparently bonded because of the earlier bathroom intimacy and the healthy dose of mutual affection that followed.

Chapter five

Tuesday. Both of us up and about by eight-thirty. Breakfast was simply flavored instant oatmeal with toast and fruit. Each of us checked in again with our respective workplaces to be sure of no hang-ups; Jen was not falling victim to a barrage of clients requesting appointments, and Dawn was not missing me, nor was she in over her head at the bookstore. She had everything well in hand.

We checked e-mail and Jen kept the house in order, assuring me my help was neither needed nor required. I slipped off to the bathroom at one point to alleviate last night's fine meal from my stomach, and returned to my book; oddly, though I ran a bookstore for a living, reading was a serious hobby and I spent much time with the printed page or the digital equivalent.

Shortly, Jen returned and took some downtime with a magazine. By about twelve-thirty, we decided on homemade macaroni and cheese for lunch; I insisted on cooking after the two of us returned from another walk, which was another thing I had been doing regularly since coming to Boston. When the weather was questionable or downright bad, I rode a stationary bike.

It took twenty minutes or so to complete the macaroni. Tonight we would have a variety of leftovers to select from for dinner. We sat down and Jen approved of my recipe, which added butter and melted real cheese in the noodles with a little milk. I added fresh fruit and plain bagels to get some balance into the meal.

As we finished, I also handled dishes and cleanup, sending Jen into the living room. She found another movie on cable and occupied herself. I joined her when my chores were done. We sat next to one another and cuddled while the movie ran its course. Jen began to fidget and squirm as things concluded. Pre-empting her, I said, "You have to go again, don't you."

"Yes, Alan," she answered. I ducked into the spare room for another pair of shorts, though they wouldn't be required for what Jen had in mind, I would discover. I went shirtless again and accompanied Jen down the stairs to the bath. She took another well-used towel from the linen storage and spread it on the floor.

She stripped again. "Down on the floor, next to the towel. This time, you can just watch the delivery, up close and personal." She was mixing things up a bit. Keeping the experience a little unique and fresh. I did as I was asked. Jen trumpeted more gas for me, lengthy and rather audible, minus any real odor this time.

Finally, she squatted over the towel next to me, within about a foot of my face, and probably two feet above the towel, thanks to her considerable height. I could angle my head just slightly and have a nice view of the whole of her butt. No complaints. My dick was having no trouble rising to the occasion either.

Plainly Jen was ready. She held her position and let herself relax. I watched her anus swell open, and a brown mass ease into it, ready to exit. Jen let the turd ease out a bit more, then inhaled, and pushed gently when she breathed out. A thick, fairly solid two inches hung from her anal opening. She let herself relax for a moment, then breathed and made another push. The turd softened, again rolling out of her ass all at once. It was highly erotic, watching it grow as it slid out, finally dropping free and allowing me to take in its true size. It was a bit longer than her first showing, maybe an extra two inches, and sporting the thickness of a baseball bat right where it broadens just above the handle, retaining the diameter until it tapered and ended. I had been fully sprung since noting the swelling of her anus. Her dump was appropriately healthy, given the quantity of food in her stomach.

Her target was the towel, and she hit it. I noticed just a faint smell, not ripe or sulfur-tinged; maybe more toward earthy. I had no trouble getting around it. As she finished, Jen said, "Shit, I needed that."

"Cute," I said, as we both regained our feet. "Pun intended?"

"If you want to take it that way, be my guest. All I know is, it felt great coming out."

"Thanks for sharing," I said sarcastically. With a smirk, she parried by saying, "Sharing is the point. You paid the big bucks, dear."

"That's true," I agreed. With that, Jen opened the toilet lid, carefully picked up the towel, and tipped the contents into the toilet bowl. She wiped clean, dropped and flushed. We washed hands at the sink and made our way back to the living room. Jen stopped and left the used towel in the laundry area. It didn't appear badly soiled, and would probably be okay for a few days until another load of laundry got done.

Jen elected to wear clothes for a while. She read more of her magazine, while I opted for another walk. On my return the time was nearing five o'clock. A thousand bucks, and my session was nearing its close rapidly. Wasn't that always how it went? To this point I had no regrets, so I might as well not let disappointment in the door, because it didn't belong either.

Around six we made a dent in the leftovers for dinner, and Jen was all ready to cuddle after we'd finished and handled the dishes. We started kissing, then touching and outright groping in all the hot spots. That wound down, and Jen kept me in her lap with her arms wrapped around me. I asked her to let me off.

She moaned. "Um, no. Maybe not," she decided.

"Well, I was gonna play with your feet again, but if you just can't let me loose..."

She pushed me off her lap with moderate effort. Guess she was interested now. She didn't throw in a 'move, you big lug.' (This author is not a big guy--five-seven and 128 pounds.) So she swung her legs up and dropped her feet in my lap and my hands began with the bottoms of her feet and worked to the top, much as they had the first time. Jen slumped back into the couch and completely relaxed. I continued for fifteen minutes, and stopped. Jen protested immediately.

"I've been going at it for fifteen minutes already, no shorter than the first time," I pointed out.

Jen gave me a pouty lip and a look to match. "I think I need more."

My turn to put on a show. I made a big sigh. I said, "All right, I guess we'll make use of the bedroom so I can give your ass a little more attention." She gave me a sideways glance. "Oh, not a little. A lot," she declared. We moved and entered the bedroom and closed the blinds and curtains.

Jen's clothes might as well have disappeared courtesy of a magician. "Someone's a little eager," I teased. She sprawled face-down on the bed. I stripped to my boxers and settled myself across her upper thighs. Wanting a little even-steven for her 'no instant gratification' remark earlier, I began by letting my hands just caress her ass, one for each cheek. I dragged this out for what I estimated to be five minutes. Jen's sarcasm was quick again.

"Someone needs to get to the good stuff."

"Now, now," I said, "no instant gratification allowed." Though I couldn't see her face, I could picture her smirk. I felt her left leg shifting under me. She placed a foot in my back and gave a shove. Carefully, I let myself be pushed so I sprawled across her back. Deciding to use this, I kissed generously from the midpoint of her back and just across the top of her buttocks. Jen gave a little shudder at this point; the good kind.

At this point I did get the show on the road. I stopped kissing her ass and switched back to using my hands; gently, I massaged deeply into the flesh, carefully pushing the extra around as I did so. I treated her to this for five minutes or so. Now, wanting to see if she was going to give a repeat performance, I generously kissed the entirety of each of her buttocks, exaggerating the movements of my lips and allowing Jen to hear some quiet sucking sounds. For the grand finale, I pressed my face to her great-looking crack, rubbing up and down slowly and periodically exhaling long breaths into her cheeks.

Jen was now fully absorbed. She stretched and moaned after taking a very deep breath. Then she was reaching for me, and I stretched out atop her again. "Alan, she said, "I want to roll over and sit on you. Not on your face, on you," she said with emphasis. I slid off and she rolled upright. After I had positioned myself, Jen carefully dropped her J. Lo-grade ass over my pelvic bone and directly to the front of my hard cock.

I relaxed my thigh muscles, granting as much room as I could for her soft, round, fleshy mounds to spread across my lap. As her position settled out, I slid my boxers down and yanked them off, working around Jen's weight. My erection was now firmly pressed into the right half of her ass.

I let myself relax further, relishing the feel of her soft, wide, warm ass resting on me. Then Jen took the reins again. She began shifting with a slow rhythm, rubbing her buttocks around my lap. For a full minute, I willed myself not to come. Then the motion and the soft, smooth feel of her skin became too much. I circled an arm around Jen's waist, let my erection throb, and pictured it buried behind her posterior. I grunted, long and low, gaining another long, powerful release that plastered part of Jen's back. I panted hard and let the throbbing sensation settle out.

Not to be outdone, Jen shifted backwards and rubbed her pussy lips, stroking long with her fingers and massaging deep. She reached behind her, grabbed my right hand, curled the palm, and buried it against her labia. She moaned and panted, holding my hand in place. Then she tensed, screamed, and unloaded a hot rush of fluids against and through my hand, wet and slimy. Finished, she freed my hand and wiped it across my thigh, leaving a good portion of the mess there. I groaned like I was totally disgusted and very grossed out.

"Oh, Romeo, you like it," Jen breathed. She turned in my lap to face me, grinding her spent pussy on me. She wrapped her arms around me, sitting with her legs propped so her knees rested against my rib cage. She leaned into me, resting her chin on my right shoulder. She plastered her tits against my chest. No complaints about that part. Again, I noticed Jen's body heat seeming to radiate out of her to seep into me. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling.

Eventually, I soured the nice mood because I just couldn't stand going without a shower any longer. Given that we'd just cranked each other up sexually, we took turns washing so the endorphins would subside a bit. It was fairly late when we finished, so we turned in for the night, with Jen spooning behind me.

Chapter Six

By the time we rose shortly after eight a.m., the weather was bright and clear. We had breakfast and a little more than an hour later we took a walk. We whiled away the morning, each with our own pursuits, and both of us made sure to stay on top of e-mail. This was now a technology-driven world, and e-mail had damn near become the standard for communication between people. One might miss something important if one didn't stay on top of it.

Around twelve-thirty we joined each other at the kitchen table, plundering more leftovers from the fridge for lunch. We tossed in Cast Away, with Tom Hanks, from Jen's DVD collection. As it ended a little more than two hours later, Jen announced that she was ready for more bathroom action. We entered the basement bath and stripped off clothes. Jen took a towel from the linen cabinet once more, spread it on a patch of floor, and asked me to lie down. I did. Jen put each of her legs to their respective sides of my torso and squatted, facing me and having her butt a couple of inches above my belly.

The first gift she delivered was to soak me with a strong, lasting torrent of piss...the ever-popular (in the right circles) golden shower. I luxuriated in letting her soak me. Enjoying the wetness and warmth. The two of us looked at each other in mutual happiness while this happened. Then she announced that it was time for the coup-de-grace: one final emptying of her bowels for my enjoyment and admiring eyes.

So Jen squatted there, looking at me, and driving gas from her body with two trumpeting reports. No odor drifted in my direction. I figured this deposit would smell rather pungent. She let herself relax, letting her body take its course. Shortly she began breathing and I watched her stomach muscles work just a little. I watched the area of her anal opening. Very soon I saw waste begin to form and slide out to touch my torso, right about the middle of my belly. With one more breath Jen sent the rest of the mass sliding out of her, letting its length crawl along my torso. I felt heat and something soft drawing out along my skin. The movement stopped as the end of the load dropped from her anus. My cock was hard and throbbing again. Big surprise. But wow, Jen had just taken a dump on my belly! Maybe it wasn't the pinnacle of this fetish, but it was a great capping-off activity for me, and I rocketed to cloud nine.

I didn't have a fantastic view while she was pooping for me, so when she stood to move over and wipe, I studied what Jen had left me. A strong sulfur smell. Dark brown and fairly soft. Thick, but not particularly dense. And, lastly, her longest delivery in terms of inches, probably close to 10 inches or so. I looked at Jen, who had retrieved her cleaning gloves. Before I could manufacture a smart-ass remark, she said, "That's right. I saved the longest and one of my healthiest dumps for last."

"I have no reply. Not that I'm speechless, I just can't come up with anything witty on the fly. I feel bad," I admitted.

She rolled her eyes. "Sure you do." She walked over and removed her deposit from where it rested. Miraculously, she made the journey to the toilet bowl without losing any. It went in and she flushed and tended her gloves and hands. I gained my feet. Jen gestured dramatically to the shower. I entered as I heard Jen leaving the room. I got wet and soaped, paying special attention to my stomach and torso. I washed and rinsed my hair and stepped out and dried, then claimed my clothes and exited. Jen was just exiting the laundry area. I let her preceded me back up the stairs to the main floor. It was probably time for the closing conversation. Dammit, where does the time go?

Jen settled on the couch, and carefully pulled me to sit sideways across her lap. Very accustomed to this and choosing not to resist, I let myself get semi-hard. Jen said, "Well, it looks like we hit the end of this particular road, Alan."

"I guess we have, haven't we," I agreed.

"Did things meet your expectations?"

"I probably have to add 'and then some' to that question," was my reply.

"Are you disappointed in any way or to any degree?"

"Hmmmmm...a sexy brunette informs me via e-mail she can help me achieve what I seek, and outside of getting there, I find she can cook, enjoys kink in the sack, is a great kisser, gives a fabulous massage, and just makes me want to melt. Yeah, that's terribly disappointing," I proclaimed. "And I shouldn't leave out the J.Lo replica ass."

The situation was now a lost cause, because Jen had taken hold of me, and tight-lipped, was shaking with laughter and trying to make sure I didn't hit the floor because of the extra motion. Red in the face, she finally got her breathing under control. Her face suddenly became stern.

"Seriously, with all we've done in five days, was your thousand dollars well-spent?"

"Honestly, it is the first time I've paid a service to address my sexual desires. With your looks, your good nature, and your embracing the truly unique aspects of enjoyment, yeah, it was worth all of the money. I'd probably do it again. And again. Because it is possible, where I had thought it my own personal fantasy that no one would willingly help me explore. But you, and Open Mind Matters, did. I thank you for helping me achieve something I didn't think I would have an opportunity for."

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