I accidentally pooped on a dude.

That’s right. You read that correctly. I. pooped. on. a. dude.

A tragic sentence that played on a constant loop in my head for about 48 hours after the fact.

Here’s the thing. It was an accident – a total fucking accident. I didn’t mean to shit on a dude. A warm, muscle-y, big-cocked fellow whose bodily treats really brought the shat upon himself. I swear. The poop, it came out of my butt, and went on another living human being quite completely by accident. OHMYFUCKINGGOD. I can’t believe this happened to me!

But if he hadn’t bucked so hard inside of me; if he hadn’t had such a deliciously big cock that knocked my g-spot right off the map; if I hadn’t stayed on top so long; and if I hadn’t moved to the goddamned chair this never would have happened.

So here’s the deal — the God’s honest truth — SHIT REALLY DOES HAPPEN. And here’s how it all went down:

Jake had me from his first email: “You seem really cool and I love what you wrote. What do you think about a drink and some conversation? No expectations.”

There’s something about a man who says he expects nothing that makes me want to give him everything. It’s a balance of power and it’s just fucking cool.

We’d exchanged texts for a week or so, nothing too exciting, but I determined that he a) could punctuate correctly in a text (always sexy) and b) he was as cool as his initial email.

Turned out, though, our schedules weren’t matching up. All we could manage was a brief afternoon meeting at 2:30 on a Thursday at a bar near my house. And he had to leave at 5 to go out of town.

He was handsome and tan, sporting a Marine-short haircut. We hugged hello, sized each other up. I liked what I saw. The feeling was mutual.

He kept my hand full of Lone Stars and we braved the heat to share a couple of smokes; laughed and talked almost non-stop. At 5 he says, “Well, I can either hit the road or we can go to your place for a little while.” I opted for the latter, naturally.

I was excited. I’d never really done this before. I had a very strong feeling that to meet him was to fuck him, and I don’t usually. It’s too brazen, even for me. But his easy charm and warm smile put me at ease and I felt comfortable letting my Sex Freak flag fly high.

Once in my apartment I got us some water and we sat on my couch. I don’t even know how it happened, but we were all over each other. I was inordinately excited to take his socks offs. We laughed.

I wasn’t laughing when his jeans came off, though.

I think I may have growled when I saw his big cock standing straight up for me. Or maybe not. I don’t know. But I fell on it with my face like it would turn back time or something.

Immediately he says, “Jesus Christ, that’s awesome.” I murmured acknowledgment around his thick shaft. His balls warm and heavy in my hand, his silky head pliant under my tongue. I sucked harder.

He pushed me back and told me to take off my dress. I fumbled with the ties and trappings.

“You wanna fuck me, Hyacinth?”

“Yes. Very much so,” I answered with a smile. I recaptured his cock in my mouth and then released it, trailed kisses up his torso, nibbled his muscular shoulder and kissed him deeply.

He asked for his pants and pulled out a Magnum, swiftly rolled it down onto himself. I climbed up and slid down. The second my thighs reach his, when his shaft is buried deep inside me to the hilt, I drenched us.

We fucked like animals every which way: me on top, on the bottom, on hands and knees, on my belly. He grabbed my throat and pulled my hair repeatedly. My pussy was a goddamned river and my makeup looked like I was headed to an ICP concert.

“Can I fuck you in that chair?” and he motioned to my bowl-shaped lounge chair.

“Yes, of course “ I said between heaving breaths. “Have at it.” (And here is where I lost my goddamned mind. I had already felt that weird tingling sensation in my hips from the g-spot pounding and I KNOW that means bad things. I’d felt that numb feeling in the past, called off the sex and gone to the bathroom because I could smell something icky only to find a tiny mess on toilet paper. I’d been smart with the other two men this had ever happened with. Not so with Jake. I was clearly stupid-horny and so I pressed on. I think I figured that since only one of the two clues (just the numbness, not the smell) was present that I was in the clear.)

We moved to the new (dry) piece of furniture and he seated himself like on a king on a thrown: knees splayed, arms resting comfortably away from his body.

This chair is THE fucking chair. Something about its width and recline make it a great support for a man and its plush finish gentle for a woman’s knees and thighs. It’s wide enough to spread my legs just a little too far taking most of my control away. I am at the mercy of the man in this chair, and until yesterday, only Troy had ever fucked me in it that I can recall. And I was fucking excited to be in it again.

I rode him for several minutes, my ejaculate sprayed us as we slipped and slid all over each other, my D tits swung in his face and slapped his cheeks. His hands were all over me, grabbing me, pinching me, wrapped in my hair and around my neck. His kisses were searing.

“I want you to cum on me,” I whispered into his ear as his cock pounded into me. And then: QUIET PANIC. I smelled something. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK.

“I want to cum in your mouth,” he countered. WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK!!

At this point, I know something has happened, but I’m certain he hasn’t smelled anything. I’m thinking that it’s just something I can smell, something on my bottom, nothing major. When he got up to switch positions with me I saw some poop on my chair. I threw myself down on it in time for him to sidle up to my mouth. THERE WAS SHIT ON HIS THIGH AND BALLS.

AND STILL HE DIDN’T SEEM TO NOTICE.

I deftly grabbed his cock with one hand and my mouth and with my other swiped the crap away. Voila! [Nearly] clean slate!

I sucked and licked and stroked with everything I had. Horrified on the one hand, determined to get him to cum so this nightmare could finally end on the other.

When he came he told me he was about to and he groaned or grunted or moaned or whatever it was he did as he left a hot, sticky little gift in my mouth. (And some of my own shit in my left hand which I’d kept down by my side out of the mix the entire time.)

I lay on my back, on top of the little shit streak on the chair panting. Glad I’d managed to pull it off. He grabbed a tea towel I had on my coffee table and handed it to me, but not before saying, “Uh oh, something a little messy…” and wiped (what I assumed to be) a fleck of poo off my belly. GODDAMNIT. I was so close!

I asked him to get me a glass of water and when he left for the kitchen I frantically wiped my hand clean and looked for any other mess left behind. When he came back he asked if he could take a shower before he took off. Of course I said yes.

While he was in the shower I ran around like a crazy person scrubbing my hand and throwing the towel away, scrubbing the shit out of the chair. OHJESUSFUCKINGCHRIST.

He apologized profusely for having to leave right away once he was out, but frankly I couldn’t have cared less. He gave me a big hug and a kiss goodbye and that was the last I ever saw or heard of him.

Oh God. Even now this story is mortifying and hilarious all at once. I’ve told 4 of my best girlfriends and they’ve all been in fits, tears streaming down their faces. “It only happens to you, Hyacinth!” they snort between guffaws.

And it’s true.

I immediately ran to the internets to research. Turns out I’m not the only one to whom this has happened and, depending on the partner and person, it ranges from something completely my fault and I’m a (literally) dirty whore or I was just a well-pleasured and unlucky woman. Either way, I found solace in the shared experience.

Which is why I’ve decided to start keeping track of these ridiculous stories here.

I pooped on a dude. And lived to tell about it.

56 thoughts on “I accidentally pooped on a dude.

    • Well, to be fair, I’ve only found comrades in poo online. None of my irl friends have ever had this happen to them outside of anal (and really, who cares if there’s poo then? You’re sorta asking for it on some level, right?? haha).

      But yes! Definitely be nice! xx

  1. Pingback: I’m a dick blogger. « A Dissolute Life Means…

  2. Okay, so I figured to be fair I should start at the beginning, and…

    WOW.

    I can tell this is going to be a blog to visit in stages!

    This happened to me, except in reverse. I literally fucked the shit out of her. I don’t think she knows, to this day. Mortifying and hilarious.

  3. OMG! I can’t stop laughing!… which then makes me feel like a horrible, horrible person for laughing! But Geezusfuckingchrist!… I would have Died. Right there. God love you for managing to finish the fun!

    I’ve so had that numb “oh shit” feeling before…but just without the actual shit.

    Note to self : when numb feeling occurs. Stop! Or blindfold him…

  4. This happened to me last summer with this girl I met online. We had gone at it a few times, she was a squirter too but nothing messy until I spent the weekend with her at her house.

    The sex was amazing and plentiful as usual, she was riding me on top and I felt that warm trickle down my balls which is an amazing feeling I haven’t felt since but then there was the smell…

    Just as I was turning her over doggy style I noticed it, it was on my thigh. All i said was ‘you might wan’t to clean your self off’. She was embarrassed and did, I finished. I left the next day. Never saw her again. Never spoke of it til now.

  5. I love that you posted this….and now you know my “dirty little secret”…it has happened to me and mostly due to childbirth leftovers (muscles that never healed). I live in constant fear and have to be careful not to completely “let go” when the sex is really good..which is sometimes hard since I am also a squirter and the 2 things seem related since I need to relax those muscles completely in order to squirt. Oh dear, much sharing here…..

  6. It’s happened to me about 7 times, always when squirting and thank god always with guys I was in LTR with. Still humiliating and mortifying though. I’ve had three kids. Don’t know if that plays a part or not.

    The first time it happened was the worst. I think it was in the first week I was having sex with that guy. It can suck a lot. It makes it hard for me to let go (which is essential when squirting) because I don’t want it to happen again.

  7. Pingback: Guestblog: A Dissolute Life Means… « Erotixx

  8. I’ve been reading this title in my emails forever…I never got here to check this out. Poop happens. You know I never, EVER say “pussy” but I think that guy was a big ole pussy to run like that. As if his shit didn’t stink! How fucking delicate he is! No big loss, you already have a pussy of your own! :)

    Poop Bisous (ICK!)
    Dawn

    • Dawn! Hahahaha I actually thought he handled it with aplomb. He never let on he knew and the arrangement was for him to leave by 5 anyway (& if I recall, it was close to 5:30 at the time). Anyway, no loss. I was just mortified for a few days. Now it’s just a ridiculous memory :)

  9. Pingback: 2012 in review | A Dissolute Life Means...

  10. I had this happen to me for the second time about 4 months ago. The first time was not that bad, was just a llittle bit, and I just told her to go clean up… But this last time, will stick with me forever.

    I was behind her, giving her all I had, and as man, you like to take. Look at what you are doing. Kind of like watching game tape in live action. Well after a bit of me and her going at it, I finally decided I wanted to take a look.

    What I saw can never be unseen. She was literally shutting out as I was looking. Fighting back the urge to throw up, I told her she needed to go to the bathroom, because I think she might be bleeding. So she ran off while I cleaned the shit off of me(namely my dick) and gathered my sheets and comforter to throw in the wash. She came out as if she had no idea what had happened, so I maintained the bleeding story so she wouldn’t die of embarrassment.. And who says chivalry is dead?

    Anyway, for about the next 4 days, that’s all I could think of every time I got hard. A truthfully traumatic experience. I’m glad you handled yours like a boss!

  11. Pingback: Tool Box Man | Liaisons with Lulu

  12. Hy, I love your blog and this story stuck with me… especially since this happened to me this morning with hubby! He was suuuuper nice about it… gotta love him for that!

  13. OMG Hyacinth…you had me laughing so hard at how you described every moment because I am sooooo “you”. I too have had this happen to me….unfortunately a few times though :( same mortified feeling….knowing I did when I “smelled” it and tried so desperately hard to continue like a champ all the while trying to shoo it away or hide it while performing but would always get my lover “chuckling” and saying….what are you doing? You trying to hide that? OMG….I was soooooo horrified. Luckily my lover is not easily grossed out and prefers the wet, wild, dirty, messy and amazing sex we have over the tiny mess after. For some reason I find this only happens after I have “squirted” over and over again with him. Perhaps it’s because when we woman have female ejaculation we bare down in order to feel the sensation build and then drench our man that it relaxes the anus and then “oops” happens. Sometimes now though I’m actually scared to allow myself to lose control and squirt for fear of the dreaded nugget. It’s so damn embarrassing. But….it can’t be all bad if my lover still craves me all the time :D I’m just mortified if I ever have to be with another man. I love sex…love to please and be pleased. Love getting to that point I drench us because several men find it such a turn on…..but I think I’d hold back from enjoying again 100% with someone new because of this fear…..unless like you….I never had to see him again then who cares….shit happens lol. Thanks for posting…..I thought I was alone.

    • Sarah, you’re very welcome! I posted this precisely because the second that dude left I was on the Internet trying to find out if I was a freak or not and I wanted to let other women know they weren’t alone. I’ve been lucky that it hasn’t happened since, but that’s not to say it couldn’t again! Ugh!

      And maybe it’s just this particular lover’s shape, size and style that makes you poo and you have nothing to worry about in the future. There’s always that possibility!

      • I’m beginning to see a pattern….it seems to go hand in hand with squirting. And I find it’s only after I have squirted “A LOT” (and after a few hours of sex)…..must be from having to “let go” in order to do so. Just wish the anus didn’t decide to let go also lol. I don’t want to give up squirting either because…OMFG it’s amazing and my lovers is so aroused by it. I am wondering if I should invest in a butt plug so I can squirt away without fear hahahaha.

  14. i think shiting goes hand in hand with squirting and luckly for it hasnt happened to me but i usually get the shitty feeling n hold back.try to always empty ya bowels before you go at it.i found it so halarious but what about?shit happens.

  15. holy shit this happened to me today and reading this article brought upon much needed empathy. I feel relieved in knowing it happens. as you said shit happens. omg horrifying none the less.

      • Oh my God, you had me in freakin stitches reading this! Something just as embarrassing happened to me today, and like you, I took to the internet looking for some consolation. I think what happened to me might even more embarrassing. I’ve been having this crazy passionate love affair with a guy at work. During our lunch break we’ll often have make out sessions in my office. So, this morning I pooped at work. Just a little background- when I gave birth to my son I had an episiotomy. My taint was sensitive for so long that I got used to wiping a whole different way. Instead of front to back, I avoid the taint by using one little piece of toilet paper for my vag first, and then another for my butt. I know, not the best order probably. Well, what I think happened this morning was that I reached a little too far back and caught a little piece of poop with the toilet paper that I then pulled into the pubic hair of my vag. I didn’t notice it a half hour later when my lover decides to stick his hand down my pants. A few minutes into it, I smell shit, look down at my belly and notice a brown spot. Same reaction as you- holyfuckingshit! I say I have to pee and run to the bathroom, clean myself up, and wonder how I could pull off just staying in that bathroom forever. So I come back to the office, and he says nothing, and we proceed. He makes me come, and I think I might have just gotten away with it. However, as I look at his hands, I notice he has some shit encrusted in the nail of his middle finger. FUCK! Still, he says nothing until he returns to my office an hour later and says “Do you mind if I ask you a very personal, potentially embarrassing question”? Well, you can just imagine where the conversation went after that. It’s been hours and I am still completely mortified. I have to see this guy tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. How long will it take before I don’t want to hide my head in the sand!? Why did this happen with a man!? The only fucking time its ever happened, and it had to be on the rare morning that I get fingered at work!? WTF!?

  16. Pingback: I have a secret sex blog that won’t be secret for much longer. | A Dissolute Life Means...

What say you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s