0 comments/ 16982 views/ 3 favorites The Dragon Lady By: anonymous3 I was walking home from work this Thursday when I noted a late model Pontiac at the side of the street not far from my house. I was located in a quiet middle-scale suburb in New York state. The car had its hood up. As I drew closer I focused on the windshield in the driver-seat area. I noted a woman talking on a cell phone. I immediately wondered if she was trying to call for a tow and not having much luck; her face said that might be it indeed. The driver's door was near me, and as I decided to see if there was something I could do, the phone call ended, and this lady was frowning mightily. We noticed each other, and I leaned down and slid my face into the car. "Maybe there's something I can do to help you?" I asked. "Not unless you got a tow truck," the woman said. "I don't own one, but I know a guy," I responded. "Seriously?" She laughed, and it came out a youthful, pleasant sound. I drew out my own phone and dialed. I spoke with my friend Mike, and let him know how I figured the situation was shaping up. I hung up, after he agreed to help. "My buddy's going to come with his flatbed. You coming back from work?" I asked. She answered, "I have to get there in an hour or so." As we waited for Mike, the lady told me I might as well take a load off, so I walked around to the passenger side and slid in when the door unlocked. I studied the woman briefly; blonde hair, straight, in a ponytail, the end of it just below the middle of her back. Probably 5'8", with a stout build. Medium D-cup breasts. Brown eyes, a youthful face, though she was anywhere from mid-thirties to early forties, I guessed. She told me her name was Andrea. "So what do you do?" Andrea asked. I told her my name was Drew, and I was a proofreader for a self-publishing company, and that I helped Mike with his car lot. He sold cars, but the bulk of his time and talent was spent as a mechanic. Mike showed ten minutes later, and got the car loaded in another ten. It was obviously not something simple, like a flat or a dead battery. Mike took off for his shop, and we spoke briefly. I told Andrea home wasn't far for me, and I could get her to Mike's place where there was a loaner for her. We walked and slid into my mid-2000s Cadillac SRX, bought and paid for for two years now. We drove to Mike's, where Andrea picked out a four-year old Buick Enclave SUV. Mike ok'd it, and told her he'd have a definite diagnosis and details in two days, tops. He called her on the second evening, and they worked a deal because she loved the Enclave and couldn't imagine being without it. Andrea and I walked out of Mike's office to the lot together. I followed her to the Buick. She climbed in, started it, and ran the window down. She had a business card, which she gave me. "Come see us. I'm sure you have some stress in your job. We can help with that. We're a gentleman's club and escort service. No strippers and loud music; we do one-on-one sessions, and cater to quite a few tastes, but we're not high society. Come tell me what floats your boat, although I know there is one thing you should let me treat you to. It's end of the week. I own the place. I have about a dozen ladies, and we do solid business every night of the week," Andrea said. "Thank you. I owe you one or two." "I'll do that," I said. "See you later." I wandered back to the Caddy and climbed in, and scoped the card. Lady Luck...pick your pleasure. Andrea's name and business number and address were below it, and she had written in ink below the typed lines. I flipped the card and found what was no doubt a cell number. Guess I had plans tonight. Maybe even the next few nights. Though I was a bit introverted, not necessarily comfortable around groups of unfamiliar people. Maybe Andrea sensed that, and one of her objectives was to help me overcome some of my shyness. I made it home, put dinner together, then ate and showered. While I showered, Andrea's chunky figure floated in my mind's eye. I recalled eyeballing her round ass, put on display by the fit of the tan slacks she had worn today. My dick stirred. I furthered the fantasy, thinking I'd like to let her take a shit on me. Just squat and take a dump. I wondered how big her average turd might be. And then I wondered how much I might be safe telling her tonight. I pictured her pretty face and fine blonde hair. Chubby women did not have to be unappealing by default. I forced my thoughts away and my penis to a relaxed state. I dressed and killed some time with my nose in a book. My phone vibrated, and as I looked at the screen, I remembered I'd passed Andrea my number; she put it in her phone on the spot. "Hello?" I answered. "Are you coming tonight, or not?" Andrea chided. "I was going to let the evening settle itself before I made my way over. But I was just thinking I'd leave shortly," I replied. "I'm just giving you shit," Andrea said. I'd like you to, I thought. "Whenever it works for you is fine," she said, bringing me out of my naughty thought. "I'll be on my way momentarily. See you in a bit," I said. I thanked her and ended the call. I went out to the Cadillac, and put the address into my Garmin GPS. Ten minutes of driving had me rolling past the neon sign that said Lady Luck. It was on a corner, and I looped around to find the parking lot behind the building. I stepped out and locked up, moving to the main door facing the street. I went in, and found female security near the door. She looked me up and down, studying my face and noting the cap I was wearing. I noted quiet music in the background, somewhat soothing, I guess. The female door-person leaned toward me and asked quietly if I was Drew. I nodded, and she motioned me through. I went past into the large lobby room, noting several doors and two sections of hallway toward the back of the space. Directly ahead was a large double door. There were a handful of people in the lobby, and none paid me any attention beyond the reflex of a casual glance. Andrea was not to be found here. And then the double door started to swing open, as Andrea pushed through. I glanced back at the door lady, who gave me a sly smile. She'd had a heads up I was coming, and then had probably texted Andrea when my name and appearance were confirmed. Andrea walked over, saying, "Hi. Come on with me." She gestured with her hand and I followed. Back through the double door, six or eight feet, and a right-hand corner, second door on the right-hand wall. Andrea used a hotel-type keycard, opened it, and in we went. The space was large. There was her work space, with the desk and PC toward the middle with a few file cabinets behind her. On the right hand wall with the door was a large leather couch. Andrea stepped around and sat. On the left hand wall, across from the couch, were two cubes jutting into the room. One was small, the other hinting at a space at least as big as this main office beyond its door. I propped myself on the arm of the couch near Andrea. Her hand crept up and held mine. "Nitty-gritty time, Drew. What strikes your fancy? What do you enjoy when it comes to the ladies?" I sighed. "Well...I like stout women. Chunky, but not necessarily immensely big and heavy." "A little on the stocky side, maybe a little soft and nicely rounded in spots," Andrea clarified. "What else.?" "Yeah," I said. "The last few years, I've liked big, fairly healthy butts. Big boobs. Ass worship, and face-sitting," I continued. I was silent for several seconds. Andrea let go of my hand and looped her arm near my waist. I stayed quiet. She studied my face. "You're holding things out," she said, conveying the "shame on you...don't be scared," in her tone. I sighed again. "I like some odd things," I hedged. I swallowed. "Can I have your lap?" I asked. Andrea laughed. "On or between?" she asked. "Between, if you can," I replied. Andrea spread her legs, and deftly moved me forward and down onto the couch. She leaned in, and her tits pressed into my back. I surrendered and let my hard-on rage in my boxers. "You've been thinking of me," she said quietly. "Yeah," I said, "I eyeballed your ass in the car lot earlier, and when I followed you in here. You got that chunky round figure, and a pretty face. Nice eyes and that lovely blonde hair," I admitted. She laughed, then gave me a playful swat. "Probably forty is a tad old for you." I told her I was thirty-four. She smiled, then sighed. "I've heard a lot since this place became my business. Out with it. What are these other things? Don't think. Take a breath and talk. Blurt it out," Andrea ordered. I took the breath, and I said, "I like golden showers. And it turns me on when I think about a lady taking a shit. On the toilet or squatting over me and letting it go. When I showered before I came, I wondered what it would be like for me if your lovely self did that to me." I swallowed, and was quiet. Andrea was smiling. "That's fetish stuff. I do have one thirty-something girl here who enjoys the stuff you mentioned. She's wide, solid, with two amazing ass cheeks. We'll get her in in a minute. I've not done those things or ever been asked. A lot of that can get downright dirty. You want that from me?" "Not the dirty aspects, or the humiliation. The woman doing the act, and watching the act, and having a sense of the results, is what turns me on," I clarified. "We'll talk to Dana in a little while. We're going in the big room right now, and I'll give you what we call an erotic shower. Basically, we strap you standing in a big stall, and the lady of your choice does an entire soap and rinse for you, slowly, with emphasis on touch, and washing and watering certain areas. You don't do anything. I want to do yours," Andrea said to me. "You expect me to master my hard-on?" I asked. "You're going to make it worse." "I've seen a guy's cock stand up before," she said, stating the obvious. "Let's go." Andrea walked over and swung the door open on the big cube. She went in. I followed, slowly. I reached the door, stepped in, and closed it. I was in a 12-foot-square room. Dead in the center was a 6-foot square shower enclosure, something you see in a mansion. It had multiple heads and a pair of sprayers on leads. The door had somewhat tinted glass. The stall was even lit in its ceiling. Coming off one wall were a pair of wrist cuffs on 5-foot leads. On the floor, either side of one of the several drains, on three-foot leads, were the ankle cuffs. There was a chair on the near wall of the main room. I used it. Andrea walked over and knelt to remove my socks and shoes. She told me to stand and removed my pants and boxers, then told me to lose my shirt. As we got to this custom shower, Andrea stopped and took off her shirt; no bra underneath. She was a very healthy D-cup for sure. She tugged her pants down and stepped out of them. She slid her panties down and kicked them off the end of her foot. I stood and marveled at her figure. A soft pouch of belly directly below her tits, with a slight droop and one roll. Her skin was flawless, pale and smooth. My erection stirred. She had broad thighs, but not flabby. I entered the shower, and Andrea followed, carefully securing me in position at wrists and ankles. I gawked at the big, round melon-sized slabs of her ass cheeks. The water started. Andrea tested it and walked to me, grabbing a detachable sprayer. She doused my hair. The water was hot, but only comfortably so. Shampoo went into her hands. My head was lathered, scrubbed, and thoroughly rinsed. Andrea stepped close and wet my torso front and back. She lathered a loofah and rubbed it elaborately over my chest and belly. Then she rubbed the soap around with her hands. She had great hands and ample practice with them. As they moved, it was like being subjected to a constant dose of low voltage electricity. My body hummed with a vibe while she worked. She activated the sprayer with a weak stream; apparently this let the water run slowly down the skin, increasing pleasure. My dick stood ramrod straight. The hot water struck my stomach, and I felt the single droplets run on my skin. The soaping and rinsing was repeated on my back and legs and feet. Andrea soaped and rinsed my arms. All that remained was my personal areas. She started with my brass ones, very gently. This I couldn't take. I carefully forced my dick down. Andrea worked. I relaxed and sent a stream of piss all over her right thigh. I moaned in relief. Her hand flashed out and swatted my ass smartly, twice. "Watch it with that thing!" she said sternly. "Asshole," she said with a grin. Even her smile was pretty. She soaped and rinsed my ass, slowly, slapping each cheek repeatedly while she worked, with a fast, gentle pattern. Across the stall on one wall was a padded bench. Andrea removed my cuffs and pointed. She led me over carefully and I sprawled on my belly. She directed the water up and down along my length. At one point, I watched her straddle the bench and sensed her squatting, until her butt met my lower back very subtly. She repeated, then stopped the water sprayer on my upper back and let it course down. Andrea maintained the low squat, grabbing the edge of the bench with her free hand. A moment passed, then I felt something warm touch my back. Andrea squatted lower. Warmth pressed into my back, and I felt it move, sliding up and along. It continued sliding until it was just below the midpoint of my back. Andrea straightened and sighed. Then the smell hit. Mildly rotten eggs. Andrea, you shit on me! I thought. I propped up and craned around. There, settled on a foot of my back, was a big healthy turd from the pretty blonde chunker's ass. Dark, dense, and smooth. The water died. Andrea set the sprayer down carefully. She announced that she was going to go get Dana in here. She left and I settled back down and waited, secretly enjoying Andrea's gift on my back. She and Dana returned in less than three more minutes. Dana walked in and made her way over. She eyed the serious deposit resting on my back. "Andrea, did you drop this load?" Dana asked, looking at her across the stall. Andrea put her hands on her hips and looked at the floor. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "It's nice," Dana congratulated her. Dana pulled a pair of latex gloves out of a pocket. She walked over and carefully lifted Andrea's gift off my back. She asked Andrea to check the outer office area. Andrea reported it clear. Dana stepped out into the office, and a moment later, I heard a toilet flush. Dana returned. I thanked her for taking care of me. Andrea wet, soaped and rinsed my back, more detached about things now. I stepped out of the shower and dried and dressed. Andrea returned to her office while I accomplished this. When I entered the office, Dana was there. "Are you still transferring files from my office to the basement?" she asked Dana. Dana answered yes. "Take Drew. You guys can get to know each other some," Andrea said. Dana departed and I let her pass through the door. "Do you really feel that bad for pooping on me?" I asked. "Yeah. I wasn't trying to indulge you. I shouldn't have done it. Never done it to anyone before. I don't consider it enjoyable from a sexual standpoint," she clarified. "Now go find Dana. See if she wants to play to your fetishes." "Don't feel bad. I enjoyed it. Thanks for the shower," I said. I stepped out the office door, around the corner, and farther down the hall stood Dana. At the opposite end of the hall from the lobby doors was an elevator. Dana gestured toward it. She went back into Andrea's office and returned carrying two boxes of files. We went down to the elevator. We entered and let the doors close. Dana said, "I got a little heads-up from Andrea. You like big butts, huh?" She set the file boxes on the floor of the elevator. She stepped over close and said quietly in my ear, "She said you like to fantasize about women pooping for you too. Been there ,done that. You're better looking than most of the clients I've done it for. In a bit, I might have to take you with me and drop a load." Just hearing her talk to me that way made me hard again. She reached over and gently groped my crotch. "I guess that's a yes," Dana decided. Dana was about 5'8", more round than she was wide. Her butt was wider than her torso. She wore black jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt. Her hair was straight, cut in a bob that curled under slightly at her jawline. Her hair wads dyed pink. Hair dye wasn't something that excited me with women, but it looked right on her, and I did find it attractive . Dana's eyes were a soft brown. She had nice, ample breasts. Her voice was a tad lower than most women, and mellow. I liked hearing it. The elevator hit the basement level and dinged as the doors opened. We stepped into a short hall, and went straight down to a door. There were two other doors on each side of the hall. Dana backed into the door ahead of us and opened it. She stood there while I passed by. She stepped away and let the door close. We were in a large, carpeted room. It held roughly a dozen file cabinets on the other three walls away from the door. Dana wandered over and set both boxes of files near one on the left-hand wall. She popped the lids, grabbed files 3 or 4 at a time from the first box, and placed them in the appropriate drawer. Dana made two more runs, two boxes each. I waited in the file room. She placed each box of files into separate drawers in the same cabinet as the first two boxes. I watched her move and bend and straighten the entire time she worked. I stared openly at her ass for short periods. When she finished, we left the room and stood in the hall. "That's it," she said. "But nature calls. Yes, I have to poop," she added before I could ask. She pointed to the right-hand wall. "Second door,"she added. I walked down and she stepped past to open the door again. I entered. She followed, moving past me to stand near the toilet. She pulled her jeans down and stepped out of them. Her panties, shirt, and bra followed. She lifted the lid and sat. Her torso reminded me of Andrea's, just a bit broader, tits a bit bigger. Her belly pouch was a bit farther down, but she sported a single roll of softness too. She sat. "Come get pooped on," she invited. "I'd prefer to sit with you the first time out," I decided. "So come here," she repeated. I walked over, and Dana spread her legs and backed me in. "Like that?" she asked me. I said yes. "A little tight, but it'll work," she decided. She looped her hands low on my belly, put her head on my left shoulder, and let her eyes drift down. "Shit! Why are you hard already?" she scolded. "I told you. It's the act, and the physical result." "So you gotta have a look when I'm done?" she asked. I nodded. She leaned into my back. "My boobs are gonna push you off here," she noted. I told her I'd live. She relaxed. "Never had anybody sit with me before." I felt her take a breath and let it out. She gripped my belly a bit tighter, and looped her other arm across my lower chest. She passed gas, like a long note on a tuba, then it crackled, echoing wickedly in the bowl. She breathed again, delivering another loud rumble. A third wildly long delivery. Dana took another breath, and I felt her belly shift. Her thighs clamped me tight. She grunted, and it became a moan. I sensed the turd moving out of her, and then I heard a heavy splash, as it dropped into the toilet. "Felt so good. God," Dana noted. "Done?" I asked quietly. "Yeah," she confirmed. "So get the hell off me, you lug," she joked, shoving me gently. I planted my hands carefully on her thighs and stood. She took me by the waist, very gently, to steady me. The Dragon Lady at the Office There are tough, no nonsense, professional Asian girls who look like the very last women who would go to bed with you. But if you can crack that cold exterior they are the most fiery bitches in bed, practically fucking you to death and willing to try anything from anal sex to bondage. Ms. Chen was one of those dragon lady oriental girls, thin and tiny, but a little dynamo in the office. She was a ball buster at meetings, never having a problem ripping a subordinate to shreds and humiliating him for fucking up. About two months before I left for another job, the two of us were sent on a trip together. We traveled for almost two weeks, visiting a different place every two days. We had to work together as a team, and so we spent every night together at dinner and then in either my hotel room or hers prepping for the next day's meetings. We got to know each other pretty well after the first week, and I went from thinking that I would never have a chance to crack her tough shell to being almost positive I was going to be able to fuck her that weekend. Maybe I always knew that her toughness was all an act to overcompensate for feeling like she had to prove she was as tough as the boys, and that what she really wanted was to be able to relax and be commanded herself, to let herself go in the privacy of the bedroom and be dominated in ways that she would never allow in the office. We were in San Diego, spending the weekend because it was cheaper for us to stay over the two nights, even without any meetings, than it was to fly us both back home and back onto the road again. Since we had been working so hard, we decided to relax and go sailing. I had sailed a lot when I was in college, and so I said I would take care of everything. I rented a small sailboat that we could take out for the day, and I made sure to pack a lot of alcohol. It was summer, and so when we were out on the water the next morning, drinking tequila on the rocks and sunbathing, she got pretty hammered by noon. I had the excuse that I couldn't get too drunk, since I needed sail the boat, but I made sure to keep feeding her a new drink every time she was low. We were joking around all morning, horsing around the boat like two teenagers, and by the early afternoon she was sunbathing topless and staggering around the deck. I even got a few shots of her with my digital camera. I thought about fucking her that afternoon, on the deck of the boat, but something told me that she wasn't quite ready yet, and I should wait. At the end of the day, I took the boat in as the sun was setting, and she had sobered up enough to sit and appreciate the beautiful sunset, hanging onto my arm. The next morning, I didn't see her at breakfast or lunch, and when I called her room in the afternoon, there was no answer. I was concerned that she was freaking out, especially about being topless in front of me, and that we were going to be awkward with each other the rest of the trip. I was kicking myself for not just fucking her the day before, and was convinced that I had blown my chance. That night, however, she called my cel phone and said that she had been so hungover that she had just lain in bed all day, but that she needed to eat some dinner and so was venturing out. When I saw her at the hotel restaurant, she did indeed look awful, and she was giving all kinds of mixed signals. I decided to broach the subject of her being topless so that it would be out in the open, asking her if she was okay with it and that I would be discrete. I also said I had treasured the fact that she had trusted me enough to be comfortable with me the day before (I didn't mention alcohol as the cause of this loss of inhibition, of course!), and that I really thought more of her than ever before. She seemed genuinely touched by this, and she said that she respected me now in ways that she had not before, revealing that she had always thought I was a typical male chauvinist pig (I hadn't heard that phrase used outside of 1970s movies!), but I had really changed her mind. I was beginning to think that I had taken the totally wrong strategy with her, and that perhaps I should have donned my "sensitive male" persona with her from the beginning rather than the path of being the hard competitor who eventually forces her to submit. Was I wrong that she really wanted to find someone who she would be willing to submit to, someone who could dominate her and not be weak? The next few days of meetings was full of mixed signals, and I was convinced I had no chance with her. Maybe that's why on our second to last night I just told myself "fuck it" and decided to throw caution to the wind. I made up a pretense after our mid-afternoon meeting to criticize her and denigrate a decision she had made earlier. In fact, I was actually right about my criticism, but never would have dared tell her in such a blunt way before. I could see her anger and she was spitting mad the rest of the day. We had it out in the car ride back to the hotel, and she stormed off to her room. For the first time all trip we ate dinner apart, and I waited until nearly midnight to knock on her door. At first she didn't answer, but after five minutes of knocking, she finally came to the door in her robe and asked what I wanted. I apologized and said that I had been out of line criticizing her, but I was also firm in not saying that I had been wrong. I offered to buy her a drink to make peace. She looked hesitant, and then agreed, and seeing how conflicted she was, I knew I had her. With a combination of martinis and steady and aggressive assumption of the authority of male dominance, I worked on her self-doubt about the "mistake" she had made that day, and by the time of the last call at 2am, she was weak and just drunk enough to be pliable. I walked her back to my hotel room rather than hers, and told her I wanted to talk to her about something, not asking whether she wanted to come in but assuming it. She hesitated, but then came in after me. I broke out some of the Scotch from the bar fridge and poured us drinks, keeping her in suspense. After raising our glasses with a cheer, I told her that she was a sexy woman and that I had wanted nothing more to fuck her that day on the sailboat, and that I knew that she had wanted me to as well. She blushed and began to act shocked and offended, standing up to leave, but I firmly commanded her to sit down. I didn't give her a chance to speak and quickly proceeded to tell her that I knew that she had not been that drunk when she took off her top, and that she probably didn't realize how easy she had been to read, that if she had been able to see herself it would have been obvious that she was horny and had been trying to seduce me. She again protested, but I could tell that I had hit home and that she indeed had been thinking about it. I walked over to her and without asking I kissed her, holding her head by her hair so that she couldn't pull back or turn her head away--I took control of her and didn't let up, kissing her neck and breasts until she began moaning, and then carrying her to the bed, spreading her legs and rubbing her through her panties until the crotch was damp with her excitement. I kissed my way past her breasts and down between her legs, pulling her underwear off and kissing her cunt, licking and fingering her for almost an hour until she had come three or four times. I was her master all night, turning her onto her stomach and spanking her, and then fucking her from behind doggy style, occasionally pausing to spank her until her ass was beet red. I held her hair like I was pulling on the reins of a bucking horse, pounding into her, my balls slapping against her upturned ass, and finally fucking her asshole from behind as she buried her face into the pillow and whimpered. I came in her ass and then forced her around to lick my cock clean, grabbing a fistful of her hair and directing her face to my dick as if her mouth was a human kleenex. "Lick it clean, bitch," I said harshly, and as I suspected the sound of command in my voice brought an immediate acquiescence. I forced her to keep licking and sucking until I was hard again, and then I fucked her, face to face with her knees bent to her chest and her ankles over my shoulders. I plowed into her until she was moaning in submission, and when she was coming again I timed my orgasm to coincide with hers, immediately switching my demeanor after we had finished coming to a softer, gentler tone. I held her and kissed her face tenderly, stroking her hair softly now with my fingers, and I was surprised when tears began rolling out of her eyes as she clung to me and sobbed. We had another night of sex, almost identical, with me in command all the way until the end, before flying home the following morning. We never talked about it after that night, and she pretended as if nothing had happened, but every once in a while in the two months before I left, I would look into her eyes and give her a smirk, and she would quickly avert her eyes as if she were ashamed... The Dragon Lady When I could, I looked in the bowl. Six inches, dark and solid and lumpy all the way, hence the heavy drop. Oddly, the smell was faint and earthy. Dana made sure I got my eyeful, and wiped and washed her hands and flushed. We dressed. "Worth it?" she asked. "Yes. Definitely," I noted. "Should we plan to do it again?" she asked. "Do you have time? Can we figure out some financial arrangement?" "We can agree. And we'll do it outside of here. My place," Dana declared. "Is that workable?" I asked her. "It's just me. Neighbors, but not super close around. My own house, not an apartment," she said. "It'll be fine." "Is there a catch?" I remarked. "I think there will be. Meet me here tomorrow by five or so. We'll leave and we'll talk about it," she decided. "You got night shift?" I asked. "No. Last club appointment by 4 p..m. Then I'm out. Two on Saturday, done before noon. Nothing again till Monday night," she explained. Back up we went via elevator. Dana walked me to the door. "Have a good night. Get some sleep. See you tomorrow." I headed for the Cadillac and then home. Friday I cut work a tad early and drove to the club to meet Dana. I rolled into the lot behind the building dead at 5 o' clock. I entered at the street, and, naturally, the lady who had welcomed me the previous night was there. She motioned me to a booth very near the door, and I sat. Her cell phone appeared and she selected a number and called it. Three minutes later, Dana appeared. She wandered over to the door lady and spotted me in the booth. She stepped over and asked if I was ready, and I said yes. "Am I following you?" I asked. "That depends," she said. "What do you drive?" I told her about the Cadillac. "We'll take yours. Mine will be fine here in the lot for the weekend. Can I drive it?" she asked. It was fully insured, so I said. "Why not?" We headed out and around to the lot. Dana walked to a late-model Honda Accord sedan and retrieved her garage door opener. I went to the Caddy and climbed into the front passenger seat. Dana slid in at the wheel. "Mmmm. Nice," she declared. We drove for ten minutes, into a cul-de-sac. The Cadillac rolled about halfway down, then swung into a driveway. The garage opened and she drove in. We entered into the kitchen, and directly ahead of that was the living room. On the left side was a stairway to the second floor.The outer wall of the stairwell had a pair of doors in it. Dana said one was a closet and the other was a full bath. Two bedrooms and a half-bath on the second floor. "Remember I said there was a catch or two to pursuing this particular interest of ours?" I nodded. "Condition one. I'll cook dinner for two nights. Spaghetti tonight and French toast tomorrow night. Good, solid food to help me do the deed for you." "Condition two. Take this." She held out a medium-size pill. "You know what a BSA is?" I nodded. "OK. It can't hurt you at all. Just one tonight." I took the pill and downed it with a little water. "Condition three. I have never had anyone sit with me on the toilet while I shit. But I liked it. When I was dropping that loaf last night, I thought about one other thing; imagine if he ate some of this. I could feed him. I got turned on thinking about it. So, I haven't pooped yet today. After we eat, I will, and I want to feed you some. Now, not all of it. My loads are always big. Alright. Don't panic. I'm not going to hold you down or tie you to a chair and shove it down your throat. So, I'll get the spaghetti going and we'll eat, then we'll watch a movie." I retreated to the couch with a book. Dana got materials and ingredients together and had the pasta ready in 15 minutes. We added sauce and sat down with some fruit. I ate slowly, and not a lot. Dana had a fair portion. She did dishes. "Did you save room?" she asked quietly. I nodded. We sat down together. Dana tucked me into her lap. We found Gone in 60 Seconds and settled in. Dana took her shirt and bra off. I now noticed tattoos all the way from her shoulder to her wrist on each arm. Two long, multi-colored Chinese-style dragons. I made a note to myself to ask about them. Dana cuddled gently, letting my head rest on her breasts. I let my erection loose in my boxers. The next two hours flew. Dana went back to the kitchen. She turned on the light and dished up leftover spaghetti from the fridge. She plated it, and heated it. She drew out a chair, and led me in and sat me down. She took off her jeans and panties. She took the plate, back to me, and spread her legs and tucked it under her ass. She relaxed, passing gas loudly twice. In another two minutes, she tensed and pushed. I didn't see a lot, but sensed the brown mass of her turd falling slowly to the plate. Dana sighed and carefully moved the plate. The turd she created was thick, long, and looked a bit soft. It curled to the circular shape of the plate. It smelled really ripe. She set the plate on the table, then moved me off the chair. She sat, and put me on her lap. She held the plate, right up under my nose. Her other hand and a fork came up, and she used the edge to slice about an inch from the fat end of the huge loaf. "Plenty soft," she noted. The fork came up. I slowly opened my mouth and Dana guided the fork in. I closed my mouth and pulled the still-warm mass off the fork. It was bitter. A bit sticky. "Work it around in your mouth. Then swallow," Dana recommended. I did, still having a layer there after I swallowed. Dana sliced another forkful. Now knowing what it took, Dana guided the fork and I took a second mouthful. Then a third was down. "Enough?" she asked. I nodded. I took water and swished it fiercely for several minutes. I spit brown. From the bag I always traveled with came my toothbrush and Listerine mouthwash. I brushed my teeth thoroughly three times., with three tools. Then I swished mouthwash another four. The toothbrushes hit the trash. Dana took the plate again and spread her legs. I watched her apparently start to rub herself, then she gasped and stifled a full-on scream. She carefully showed me the plate. She had squirted strongly on her turd. She moved to the bathroom, the toilet flushed, and she washed thoroughly. She wandered back out in a robe. She stepped out after emptying the pasta, letting the plate soak in bleach water, and dropped it in the trash. "What's one spent plate, right?" she asked, grinning. She wandered over and sat on the couch again, beckoning to me. I walked over and she tucked me back into her lap. "That was a big monster," she said, her eyes widening. "It was a heavy turn-on for me. Then when I was done, it was like, "Oh, a little gross...let's not repeat that." "You survived though. Thank you for tasting my shit." Dana busted out laughing. Her statement sounded ridiculous, and I leaned back and relaxed and laughed too. "That's the naughtiest thing I will do with you. And we won't do it again, even if you come to see me a year from now. It was sudden curiosity." "People think I'm a wicked bitch, with the hair and the tats. Some figure my 'Dragon Lady' nickname comes from the combination of those things. I'm really a nice lady. I just play on the look and the nickname when some clients bring it up. And, check this out," she said. She shifted me off her lap and stood, removing the robe. And across her entire upper back was another tattoo. A yin-yang symbol, with a large dragon curled around it, appearing to stare out off her skin. The tail and body drooped down most of her back. "Cool," I said. Several hours?" "Nine or ten," Dana confirmed. As late as it was, we made our way to bed. Dana said it was fine if we shared a bed, and it seemed as though she wanted me to accept. I did. It was nice falling asleep next to her. Saturday Both of us were up early. We had breakfast together, nothing fancier than cereal and juice. Dana was off to her morning appointments by nine. Another thing I always traveled with was my laptop, and I logged on with Dana's help and checked my mail to be sure nothing was sideways at work. Dana returned by 11:30 in the morning. Another half hour and we were fixing sandwiches and some basics for lunch. "This is the routine for the weekend. Eat, watch movies, cuddle, poop together, maybe a little sex, sleep. Wake up and repeat," she said, laughing. I grinned. After lunch, we threw in some exercise. We went after a few groceries, with Dana driving carefully again. We watched more TV, and both of us were avid readers. At dinner time, as promised, Dana made French toast. We sat down to another movie from her personal library, 50 First Dates with Sandler and Barrymore. When it was over, Dana stood me up and turned me around, parking me on her lap instead of in it. She was again nude. I was in nothing but boxer shorts. "Seriously," Dana said. "I've not really been one for cuddling. But it seems pretty good with you." I slid my hands around her upper back, and gently put my face in her tits. I rubbed it around for a few minutes, then switched to fondling her breasts with my hands. Then I used my lips, and Dana was breathing heavy after several minutes. The TV was still on in the background, and we heard a plug for "Kiss the Girls" with Morgan Freeman. "Oh, good movie," Dana declared. I turned so I could watch, and Dana left me sitting on her lap, gently running her hands around my back. This continued for several minutes, and then I eased backwards so I was leaning on her, and we focused on the movie. A half hour later, Dana took one of my wrists and lifted it, and let go. It dropped like a limp noodle. She repeated, and got the same result. "Are you sleeping?" she asked. "Why are you so relaxed?" "This is nice," I pointed out. Dana's hands moved up and down my torso. I let her work, enjoying the feel of her hands. The movie continued, then ended after two and a half hours. Dana slid me off her lap, and channel-surfed. At one point she slid her arm around me, and pulled me close to lean on her. "I don't suppose you'd be up for a plumper hump?" she asked, looking at me with a wide grin and an arched eyebrow. "A plumper hump? Pink hair and tats. A PAWG pumping my dick? Nah. Can't do that." Dana was laughing, because she was listening to my pornstar-flavored language. But then we started kissing, and I got hard. Dana reached to where she had let her robe fall. I guessed correctly that she was chasing condoms. She slid the condom on for me and ditched my boxers. She was positioned to be on top, and she started to move. I carefully tugged her over me. I grabbed her ass and shoved her pussy into my pelvis, and felt some of her weight settle, and I relaxed, enjoying the feel of her warm, soft flesh pushing on me. Dana felt this effect, and she worked a gentle grind. She leaned over and let her breasts engulf my face. The grind continued, and I groaned the whole time. I played with her ass with my hands. Well aware my hard-on was fully loaded, she carefully guided me into her. She started a slow, steady up-down rhythm, and at the bottom of it, with her heft pushing into me, I relaxed. She slowed the pace more, and lip-locked me gently, pushing tongue into my mouth. After a couple minutes of kissing, Dana dropped her head near my shoulder and took over with her hips, pumping up and down a bit faster, shoving a bit harder at the bottom of the stroke. Dana's big drooping ass cheeks shook. I took my hands and let them rest on her butt while she worked. She looped her hands under my shoulders, and she panted hard, breathing deep. This lady had crazy hips, because she set to letting them slam home, and back up again, and down, until she pulled out, and leaned down, grunting long. She buried her nails around my shoulders. I gasped, and took to smacking her ass repeatedly to block my own pain. Then I felt a warm gush, and Dana relaxed. There was a mess at the bottom of my belly, and I wondered if she'd drawn blood at my back. She rolled off me, and gave a stern, no-bullshit order to let her have a look. She reported that there were shallow gouges in each shoulder, just deep enough to bleed a little. She went and got two damp rags. One she cleaned the mess off my belly with, the other stopped the minor bleeding in my back. "I should have been more careful with that. I'm sorry," Dana said, looking at me carefully. "It's not the worst that ever happened to me. Thanks for the wicked pussy squirt," I reported. Dana laughed again. "I noticed you relaxed a lot with my weight coming down," she said. "I was trying to be careful not to hurt you that way either." "You didn't," I said. "But it felt nice the way you let some heft push on me. I liked it. Is it okay that I spanked you?" "I'm fine," Dana reported. I wanted more lap time, so I moved over and Dana obliged me. I took up my book, and Dana started a moderate back rub. Fifteen minutes passed, and she asked, "Are you getting tired of me rubbing you, and touching you?" "Nope, it's good," I said. "I'm not used to being obliged when the plumper wants a fuck," she said bluntly. "I'm not used to someone tolerating my size and accepting my technique for getting laid." "Your technique is fine. I will let you have a fuck anytime you want. You start feeling the urge, I'll leave my number before we part ways, and you call me late in the week. You can cuddle and rub my back and ride my pole, and shake that ass, eat like a horse and shit like an elephant, and I will love you doing all of it to me, every single time," I said, looking her in the face. She was laughing again before I had finished. We continued the evening. Eventually the TV came on again, and Dana hugged me wonderfully. As we sat, she passed loud, long gas twice. There was several minutes pause and she uncorked a third rumbling report. As it came out, I startled abruptly. Dana laughed. "Didn't mean to scare you," she said. "But it's time to shit again, and I have another idea." I slid off her lap. She got up and disappeared into one of the bedrooms, returning in less than a minute with a bath towel that had seen better days. She folded it into a large section and draped it over the empty seat cushion. I was asked to face the back rest, and get my ass as close to the flat seating area as I could. I complied, after removing my clothes. Dana put her hands on my shoulders, spread her legs, and stepped forward. "Gorilla squat," she said with a chuckle. I could feel her lowering her ass within a few inches of mine, and suddenly I understood. She was going to drop her load squarely on my ass. She stood there a few minutes, then I heard her breathing deeply. She exhaled loudly as she started the push. The end of her turd touched my skin. Dana's pushing effort became a moan. The end of the turd pushed on my skin, then I felt it start to grow and move, and more of its length dropped toward my butt. It touched. Dana kept pushing, and the length grew some more. I felt the end drop away, and settle against my skin. Dana sighed, slowly rising to a standing position. A strong sulfur odor filled the air. "That one's just for you, Drew. My gift," Dana said. She let it rest for a bit, then disappeared and came back with 2 pair of latex gloves. I felt her lifting the turd off my butt. She moved to where I could see. In one hand was an eight-inch long, fist sized masterpiece, light brown, smooth, held carefully. In her other was the other set of gloves. She told me to take them and put them on. It took a few seconds, but I managed. "Take it," Dana said. I reached out and Dana placed it into my hands. I curled both hands carefully, feeling the size of her load of shit. By now I was no longer so conscious of the smell. "Whoa," I said. "Yeah, it's big. It felt good again too," Dana told me. She let me marvel a few seconds longer. She took the prize back. Both of us got upright somewhat awkwardly and I followed her to the bathroom. The disposal was made and both of us washed. It was nearing 10 p.m. now. We decided to shower, doing it together, quickly but thoroughly. Dana took her robe ,and I put on clean boxers and a t-shirt. We sat again, me on Dana's lap. "Dana, you want some ass worship time?" I asked. "God, no. That's awful." She leaned into me and said, "I'm kidding. I'd love to let you do that to me," she admitted. We went into the second bedroom. Dana slid out of her robe and sprawled on the bed. I joined her and straddled her knees. I reached out and rubbed both cheeks very gently. Or started to. "No touching. Kiss it first. Do it right," Dana ordered. "Yes, ma'am!" I said saluting in smart-ass fashion. I leaned over and put the lip service to her ass. I started on the left, sucking and pulling on the soft, drooping portion of the cheek, all lips. I moved right, and repeated, up and down the entire cheek. This took several minutes, and when finished, I asked, "Can I touch now?" Dana gave her blessing. I reached out and gently took a handful of each cheek. They were soft and kinda doughy, because my hands sank in an inch or more. "There happens to be a lot here," I noted. "Wow." Dana glared backwards, a decidedly dirty look. I treated each cheek like bread dough, pushing and squeezing and kneading with my hands. Up and down, deep into each cheek, for several minutes. Finally I could stand no more. I went face-first to her ass, and shoved her massive, soft cheeks up around it. My hands shoved them around so they plastered over my face. I paused a few times to breathe. "Damn, talk about soft," I said to Dana. "You like? Rub it more, please Drew. That felt really nice." Now I concentrated on moderate, slow movements, both hands to one cheek. I was seeking to help it really last for her, payment for her fine efforts to keep things interesting when she was pooping for me. I heard a lengthy moan. "Fuck...keep going. More, more, more." Dana panted. I obliged. "Lady Jell-o Cheeks," I said. Fabulous Jell-o cheeks." Dana shook with laughter. I stopped, looking at her nude form, how her extra cushion was arranged, no idea why I found it appealing. "It's too bad my lap won't take your weight. I just wanna soak in all the cushy parts. Just be swallowed up," I declared. Dana was awestruck. She looked at me, her mouth open slightly. She reached out and gently pulled me off her legs. She pulled me toward her. I moved willingly, and she rotated me around so I was facing her. Up on her hip, she scissored her legs open and tugged me in tight, carefully draping the top leg back down. She tucked my face into her tits. I slid my arms around her, and I felt her wrapping herself around me. Breathed deeply into her chest. It was as nice as I could hope. Dana sensed it. "Enjoy," she told me. We stayed kink-wrapped for the next half hour. Then I said, "Dana, I have to piss." We disentangled ourselves. Dana stood and I followed. Suddenly she turned and pulled me in, hugging. Her lips found my neck. I leaned into her, and suddenly I reached and pointed my semi-hard cock at her belly. I pissed, groaning at the relief, hearing it spray on her skin and run down to make a puddle on the non-carpeted floor. Dana gasped, maintaining the hug. I felt the rush of air, and then I heard a nasty crack, and felt pain across my ass. Dana's hand struck hard repeatedly, until my cheeks stung fiercely. I started madly every time she connected. Dana led me back to the bed, and I sprawled so my ass wouldn't protest. She located baby wipes in her bathroom and returned cleansing herself. "That was fun," she said, sitting down next to me after cleaning up the puddle on the floor. She proceeded to sprawl me across her big thighs. I felt her hand move again, and flinched hard. Her hand floated to the middle of my back, her touch light. She drifted down into my lower back and onto my ass, where she proceeded to ever so gently fondle my not-so-padded ass cheeks. She worked. I relaxed, and the pain disappeared. The Dragon Lady I righted myself, on her lap and facing her. I hugged her, resting my head on her right shoulder with my arms across her wide back. Suddenly I felt her torso shifting, then I heard her breathing hard and sucking moisture through her nose or mouth. She's crying...what... I thought. "Dana...Dana, stop. What did I do?" I asked. I felt her shaking her head, 'no.' "Happy cry," she said, looking at me. She swiped tears off her cheeks. "You wanna just let it out?" I asked, and she nodded. I held her, and she let the dam break. She sobbed hard for a full five minutes. Then she dumped me to the bed, straddled me, and kissed me on the mouth. I felt her body tense, and groped her ass gently. Dana broke the kiss, and screamed, thankfully not directly in either of my ears. A massive, long, warm splash plastered my belly. Dana collapsed, quivering. Orgasm. "Holy shit, Dana. God, that was bigger than the first one." She reached down and smeared her sex all over my torso. "Fuck," we said in unison. Now things required another shower. Dana went first, disappearing back to her own room. I finished, then brushed my teeth after using the toilet. I wandered back to the living room, and Dana intercepted me gently, pulled me through the door, and closed it. I hoped the heavy-duty stuff was over, as late as it was. I preferred going to bed. Sunday Breakfast wasn't fancy; more cereal and juice. Dana had two bowls. All the activity crammed into an hour or so before bed last night must have made her hungry. Going to the sink to deposit dishes, I felt Dana behind me, and she reached out and gently patted my rump, finishing with a slightly long rub. She stood next to me at the sink. I blurted, "After your fantastic ass last night, I want to rip your pants off." She was wearing those thin skin-tight black stretchy things. "Knock yourself out," she invited. I took a knee, found the seam in the middle of the seat of the pants, and peeled a section off her skin. I took a good handful at the left, and then right. I tensed my hands, bunched my shoulders, and yanked. The fabric separated in a large hole, and I finished tearing the two halves. Dana's huge, soft, drooping ass greeted me, completely bare. I stood and rubbed it gently. "Lady Jell-o cheeks," I said quietly in her ear. She grinned. Good thing all the window coverings were closed yet. Dana pu;;ed the damaged pants off, wandered over and sat herself on the couch. I followed. Both of us again took up our books. We tended to morning hygiene a bit later. We took a walk to get some exercise in. The TV kept us occupied until lunch again. I ate enough, and Dana filled up. "You need another load from yours truly," she explained. Both of us returned to our books for some time. We pulled another movie from her personal collection. Dana parked me on her thighs again, and I leaned back and relaxed.Her hands played gently with mine, and she rubbed my arms just past my wrists. They drifted around during the first hour of the movie. Then she leaned forward and looped her hands around my waist. "Ready? Noise time," she said. She tensed, taking a deep breath. I felt her belly flex, and her hold tighten. The gas started, a noisy rumble that wasn't really muffled by the sitting cushion. Dana exhaled, and then it became a grunt, as she forced the pressure out. She was panting, and then relaxed. Dana's lips nuzzled my neck, and we continued the movie. In another thirty minutes, Dana sat up, held me, and let go another tremendous rumble, long and rolling and with a wicked, deep sound. "Hell yeah," she noted. In another thirty minutes, the movie finished. Dana moved me off her lap, and returned with another old towel. She spread it over the two couch cushions. She laid me out on the couch so my torso was at a slight angle. She faced me, carefully squatting low on my belly. She stayed that way for two or three minutes. She took a breath, and started unloading another turd. It dropped a couple inches and touched my belly. Dana inhaled and pushed carefully a second time. She didn't need a third. A long sigh, and a huge turd slid up along my belly. Dana's sigh became a grunt, the push not over. Then I heard the end of her dump slap my lower belly gently. The brown log stretched from just above my belly button to just below my nipples. It reeked of bad eggs, but felt warm. "Oh, yes." Dana decided. She moved carefully, off to clean herself. She returned shortly, again gloved up, and carefully disposed of her trophy. It had to be nearly ten inches long, with a good healthy diameter. Baby wipes came out again to clean my torso. Both of us next took time to finish our books. "The Dragon Lady wants another hump session," she decided. I looked at her. "Nope," I told her. She stepped around and faced me. She carefully lowered herself into my lap. She pulled my face into her tits and shook them fiercely. She stopped and pushed them up into my face, gently. "Yes," she said, standing up. She dragged me slowly to her bedroom. I sprawled on my back on the bed. Dana eased her plus-size self over and straddled me. A condom appeared, and Dana worked a handjob until I was hard, and the rubber went into place. She used a little lubricant and guided me into her. "I don't want to freak you out. Part of me wants to just ride you until I come again. But that might hurt you a lot. I want to make it good for you too," Dana said. "Go slow, with a lot of push when I'm in deep. Then go as fast as you want." And so she started, shoving her size into me carefully while she worked. Ten minutes in, I slid my hands down Dana's back, grabbed a handful of each cheek, and held her pelvis down. I came hard into the condom. "Holy shit," she said. "I felt that." She righted herself on top of me. "Alright. Heavy-duty plumper pump time. She leaned over and gave a fabulous kiss, and blew a loud raspberry on my belly. "Ready?" she asked quietly. I nodded and wrapped my arms across the middle of her back. She stayed low, all the motion in her wide hips. She started easy, then when she was sure of the rhythm, she pounded up and down, fast but controlled. Her head was near my ear, and I heard a pure, masculine growl from her. Faster she went. "More," she grunted. I could feel her pussy stretching. She pulled my arms off her and pinned them above my head. She drove her hips madly, the mattress flexing under the thrusting abuse. On she went, until she bucked and my dick slid out. She loomed above me, then screamed at the top of her lungs. Scared the shit out of me. This was followed by a torrential splash, all over my torso. Dana flopped sideways, then rolled so her back was to me. "If the neighbors heard that..." I said. I rolled toward Dana, cuddling against her healthy derriere. Her sex dripped to the sheets. I dropped my hands low and rubbed her wet pussy thoroughly. Dana was perfectly still. She was breathing hard and deep. She shuddered, then began quivering madly. It traveled from her shoulders, down her back, and settled in her ass and thighs. Her butt was a massive mound, like jello, shaking wickedly. I stayed close, delighting in feeling her shaking ass jiggling against me. This lasted ten entire minutes. I eventually peeled myself away and took a fast shower. When I re-entered the room, Dana was as I'd left her. I leaned over and waved a small stack of $20-dollar bills in her face. She snatched them in a blink, and said, "Mine. I hope you're broke." We had to get back to Dana's car. She wasn't due at work till Monday, but as we arrived in the lot, she asked, "Are you doing okay? I was a bad bitch in the sack for a bit." "I think my member broke," I joked "I'll send the bill." "These three days were not like I expected. Your take on ladies and pooping was a total surprise, and I would indulge more people, guys or girls, like I did you, if there were more that enjoyed it the way you do," Dana declared. She leaned over and kissed me deeply. "If you don't come and see me regularly, I'll kidnap you back to my place and give you a brown facial, with a gorilla squat," she said. She opened the door and departed, grinning. The End