The Pooper Peeper
Driving through the southern states on a trip, alone, I had stopped at noon at a major fried chicken purveyor for lunch. Not saying which, exactly, but they have a southern "colonel" as a spokesperson. It wasn't bad, nor great. One of the sides was some sort of greens, turnips or collards, named " mean greens".
Three hours after I ate , I was getting off the interstate again to gas up, and I went to the restroom and threw up. Feeling a little better, I drank a soda to calm my stomach, and kept rolling south.
Almost seven hours after I ate, my lower digestive tract began a series of chortles and chirps, and I knew where it was going. I began perspiring but thought I had time to make it to the next exit. I was wrong ! Things began to escalate rapidly. A blue sign loomed above proclaiming " Rest Area ". Thank heavens ! However, I neglected to see the " No facilities " part of the sign. It didn't matter, I was closing in on situation critical. It was as though I had a large auger in my belly pushing all of my entrails towards my anus. I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk. There were a few cars parked in the asphalt parking lot, and maybe one semi truck. I parked and grabbed a couple of the Colonel's napkins, and a wet-nap, and staggered, stiff legged to the scrub oaks and palmettoes.
I had used these types of areas before to let off beer when beach trip bound. Mostly just people pissing, who couldn't hold it, but, perhaps a few in my own dire condition. And, sometimes various weenie waggers, goot gobblers, and looky lous, which, under other conditions, might have hindered me, but I was far past the point of caring. The auger turned once again, and I almost cried out. I found a small scrub oak, dropped my trousers and shorts, grabbed ahold of the tree trunk, thrust my ass out as far as possible to avoid soiling my clothes, and cut loose. A loud gaseous blatt was followed by the sound of a thousand quail taking flight at once as I beshat, in a spectacular fashion, the landscape behind me. I distinctly heard a voice behind me coo, "Ohhhh, yessssss ! " I unleashed another torrent of shit and wet farts. Sweat poured off of me, running into my eyes, blinding me. I wiped green smears on the Colonel's crinkled face. The wet-nap wasn't meant for asshole cleansing, it burned, but did the trick. Finished, I arose and turned to face my intruder. Boy, was I surprised !
She was middle-aged, tall, darkly tanned, and lovely. Her hand was down her pink gym shorts, and she was masturbating. She gasped, and croaked out, "You were the best one today ! Oh my god ! " I was properly shocked. She looked like some country club matron, and here she was out in the scrub watching people shit ! I was at an utter loss for words. " Hope you enjoyed it, " I mumbled, and made my way back to my car. I'd always heard the ones into the nastiest kink were often the most beautiful. Now, I knew.