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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Jamie's Sick Journey
by Bluepervina (bluepervina@gmail.com)

***

Two teenagers discover the disgusting truth about what 
turns them on the most. (mf-teens, youths, mast, scat)

***

Author Notes: Copyright 2003 by bluepervina, all rights 
reserved. IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise 
forbidden by law to read (any or specific kinds of) 
electronically transmitted erotic material, please do 
not read anything else in this file.

/~bluepervina/ 

This material is copyrighted by bluepervina. All rights 
are reserved. The author specifically grants to an 
individual user the right to download and keep ONE 
electronic copy for that individual's personal reading 
so long as all original copyright notices by 
bluepervina remain included with the work. Any and all 
reposting requires prior written permission from 
bluepervina. 

The Story: A guy named Brett tells about when he was 14 
and his 14 year-old girlfriend, Jamie, has a poop 
accident. She tells him later how much she likes it, 
and they find themselves wanting to play with--and eat-
-her shit again. (You have been warned!)

----1---

When I was fourteen I was stuck with having to rely on 
mere circumstances to move my romantic life along. At 
that age, it's nearly impossible to influence the 
"where" and "when" of dating, but I at least had one 
open option, most of the time: the movies. So it was 
quite often that my parents dropped me off at the 
multiplex theater to meet my fourteen year-old 
girlfriend, Jamie.

We, of course, were going to see a movie... supposedly. 
But the real plan was to sneak off and have some 
private time, which we never got anywhere unless we ran 
off from the movies. We had friends who always told us 
what the movies were about, so that we could answer 
questions from our parents later--which they always 
asked, of course.

We'd been doing our little theater sneak for a solid 
two months, but still we were only kissing, with 
occasionally my hand being allowed under her bra or 
panties. But that was OK. After all, I'd managed to get 
three handjobs from her by then, plus one speculative 
suck, the last time we snuck off. It was so 
tantalizing, being that close to going the distance. So 
when Jamie unexpectedly had her problem, we were both 
ripe to take advantage of it.

As we usually did when we snuck out of the theater, we 
found this deserted alley behind a nearby TJMaxx store, 
where there was a cardboard disposal dumpster sitting 
in front of this alcove for a loading area. The light 
above it was busted, and it was really dark in the 
shadows. The moon was out good enough to see by once 
you got used to it, but Jamie was scared like crazy 
that I was even thinking of taking her back there. I 
was horny, though, and so was she, and she followed me 
up into the loading alcove.

I leaned her against the door and kissed her for a long 
time, and then she pulled away and said, "OH MY GOD!" I 
thought somebody was sneaking up on us or something, so 
I turned around to look; but nobody was there. Then I 
smelled a really nasty shit smell. Jamie was crying and 
covering her face. She had pooped her panties while we 
kissed.

Sobbing, pitiful, she begged me to help her get her 
panties off so they wouldn't mess up her legs or shoes. 
Buzzing with desire, yet conflicted by honest concern 
for her, I knelt there in the dark while she held up 
her skirt. I carefully, slowly, pulled her crap-filled 
panties down her legs and over her feet. If this has 
ever happened to you, I guess you know how long that 
takes, when you're trying to be careful and do it so 
you don't make a mess on yourself. It was forever! I 
had all kinds of trouble just balancing the panties so 
the big mass of turds didn't fall out onto her. And she 
just cried and cried.

Meanwhile, I got to stare at her pussy--lots of hair! -
- and at her shit piled inside her panties. I was so 
rock hard by the time we were done getting them off. We 
threw them in the cardboard disposal dumpster and 
started laughing about it. The smell was gone, since I 
guess we were used to it, and I was super turned-on to 
think that Jamie's shitty bare ass was right there 
waiting for me under that skirt.

She let me pull her skirt back up, and soon I was back 
kneeling again, but this time she let me lick her pussy 
while she spread the lips. It was my first rug-munching 
ever, and I knew I'd be doing that to every girl I 
could from now on!

Jamie just groaned and humped against my face. Finally 
I got really going and slurped way under her ass--and 
got my tongue covered in her shit leftovers! I knew it 
right away, since the taste is so strong, but I didn't 
care. I was so horny, I'd have eaten the shit right 
from her ass if I thought she'd fuck me.

And, at the rate we were going, it was only going to 
take me licking her a little more before I'd be 
sticking my dick right up in there.

But she turned around and stuck out her ass, and said 
in a husky voice, "Lick my butthole, OK?" It was 
stunning. She was completely transformed from the 
weeping little girl of a few moments ago. She reached 
back and spread her cheeks apart, and even in the 
moonlight I could see her ass so white like chalk and 
the streaks of shit in the crack like black tar. I dove 
right in.

It wasn't wonderful, but I was new to sex anyway. For 
all I knew, that's what girls all liked. So I ate it 
all up. I licked and kissed and tongued every part of 
her butt--her cheeks and her crack and her tiny 
wrinkled asshole. She moaned louder and louder. 
Finally, when I just absolutely had to fuck her, I 
stood up and undid my jeans. Jamie turned around and 
instantly laid on me the hottest, sloppiest kiss we 
ever had. I mean she attacked me! Groaning like wild 
and grinding her crotch against my leg, her tongue went 
all around in my mouth. She was getting off on tasting 
her shit in my mouth.

As for me, all our pressing together while we kissed 
got my cock to the point of no return. I came before I 
could even get my pants properly down. But later I let 
Jamie reach her hand in and feel the mess, and she 
giggled and said she liked it. Then she licked her 
fingers off.

"Wow," was all I could think to say. For a very long 
time.

---- 2 ---

We talked about it the next day on the phone, 
whispering so nobody would overhear. She was an only 
child, but I had to make sure my brothers were long 
gone before I could even think about having that 
conversation.

"God, Brett... I'm still really freaked out," she said.

"Me too," I agreed. I wanted to add, "I can even taste 
your shit in my mouth a whole day later--and I've 
brushed my teeth like 100 times" -but I didn't want to 
make things worse. If she hated it, I wasn't going to 
make her hate me, too. For the first time in my life, I 
was falling in love with a girl.

I'd come five more times since standing on that loading 
dock with her, less than eighteen hours before. Every 
chance I got, I was in private stroking, thinking back 
about how sick and twisted and wonderful it had been. 
Now, on the phone with her, I began to have my doubts 
that she felt the same way. But, she'd kissed me so 
hungrily last night! She had to have liked it at least 
a little....

Still, I was fourteen, and I didn't know yet in life 
how most females approached new weird sexual 
situations. Jamie was testing herself--and me--
conversationally, and I just got lucky enough to 
instinctively keep my enthusiasm to myself until she 
perceived that it was safe to be that way herself.

"Well, I guess I just forgot I had to go to... you 
know... number two," Jamie whispered, then giggled. "To 
take a *shit*. I'd been holding it all day, since in 
the morning at gymnastics practice. And every time I 
remembered, I'd either be like, right in the middle of 
something else and having to wait... or else I'd just 
forget because I was busy. Then we started kissing, and 
it was just coming out before I even realized it. I'm 
so sorry."

My throat was dry and raspy, I was so horny again and 
desperate to do something about it with her. My cock 
might not survive too much more rubbing without some 
serious pain, but I got it out anyway while I listened 
to her apologize. "It's OK," I managed to croak back, 
clearing my throat. "I really didn't mind, you know?"

There was a long silence. I could faintly hear a 
dishwasher running somewhere in the background. She 
coughed. Finally, she said, "It made me so horny."

"Me too!" I immediately agreed, and the reality of her 
feelings sent me over the edge, my jism pumping out 
across the carpet in my room, over my discarded pants 
and shoes and a book from school. Fuck yeah! She liked 
it!

"Really?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Yes, absolutely," I managed to say back, controlling 
my voice as I stroked myself back down. "I can't stop 
thinking about it, I loved it so much."

A small pause. "Jeez," Jamie whispered.

"Yeah," I said.

"Do you think -- you know --is this what people, like, 
is this how--" she trailed off.

"Is this how sex is?" I finished for her. "You mean, 
with it being dirty like we were?"

"Yeah," she brightened, obviously relieved that she'd 
found a kind of acceptance of what she wanted to talk 
about. "I mean, the health teacher would never talk 
about that, I'm sure. You know, like, God!"

"Yeah," I laughed.

"And nobody's parents would ever--ever--admit anything 
about sex anyway... So, you know, like it just leaves 
kids to figure it out, right?"

I agreed, of course, because I honestly felt the same 
way and was just as confused and amazed about the 
mystery of it all. She and I were exactly in the same 
place about it, for sure. We liked it, we wanted more, 
but we were shocked that we did, and we were worried 
about whether or not it was a normal thing or a right 
thing. And we had no clue how to find out. More, we 
didn't want to risk trying to really find out... 
because what if we were freaks? How bad would we feel 
then?

But what I said then was, "Yeah, like I'm sure your 
friends aren't ever going to talk about it anyway, not 
those preppie girls!"

We laughed. "That's for sure," Jamie said. "Not even 
Allison ever talks about the details, you know, and 
like it's common knowledge she's been doing it with 
that high school guy since last summer."

For a while we got off onto the subject of people we 
knew who we thought were really doing it--fucking with 
dicks inside pussies--and about what we thought that 
must be like. "Nice," we agreed. "Really good. Must be, 
since everybody wants to do it!"

Jamie asked me if my brothers talked about sex. "Sure," 
I said. "All the time, but not with details, like how 
they do it with their girlfriends. They just talk about 
how a girl looks and how they'd done it with her or how 
they'd like to do it with her. Not like, you know, with 
specific details."

"Oh," she said, clearly disappointed.

"Listen," I tried to say cheerfully, "I really liked 
it. I really did, Jamie."

For a breathless moment I sat with those words ringing 
across the fiberoptics, the shock freezing me in time 
as I realized what a freakish thing I'd just admitted 
to for the second time; but it was a passing panic. 
Jamie saved me.

"Me too," she said simply. "Me too."

Then her voice grew more determined, and a happy chill 
ran down my spine. "Can we do it again," she asked, "on 
purpose next time?"

---- 3 ---

As it turned out, Jamie couldn't wait for the next 
weekend.

That Thursday, as I passed her on the way to fifth 
period, she grabbed me by the elbow and roughly yanked 
me to a halt. "Get out on a pass at 2:00, OK?" she 
hissed. "I gotta see you real bad at 2!"

Her wild blue eyes were wet with need, and she stared 
me down as I attempted to stammer the obvious question.

"W-w-where?"

"Oh," she released my arm and frowned, thinking. "The 
cafeteria. Yeah. Nobody's in there by then, right? And 
the little teacher's dining room off to the side is 
lights-out by two o'clock. I had to go in there last 
month to look for Mrs. Vinson's purse when she thought 
she'd left it. The place was dark and quiet, the lunch 
ladies were gone... and..." she grabbed my arm again 
and pulled my ear down to her mouth. "It's got it's own 
bathroom!" She squealed the last part in a delighted 
shrill whisper, then kissed my cheek quickly and 
skipped off.

"Don't forget!" she called back over her shoulder. I 
was sure there were plenty of other kids around, 
laughing at me for looking like such a pussy-whipped 
guy, but fuck them all. No one ever understands how 
wonderful that status really is. Plus, Jamie's skirt 
was really short that day, and I liked seeing her move 
down the hall, my dick growing thick as she finally 
turned the corner and the tardy bell rang.

At two I was there. Mr. Holt let me go without a second 
thought. I always had my work finished by then, anyway. 
The hallway was deserted at the entrance to the 
cafeteria; in a moment I was inside the darkened 
cafeteria, and Jamie was waiting.

"The door's locked, wouldn't you fucking know!" she 
spat. I'd never seen her so edgy and bossy, but it was 
turning me on. She grabbed my hand. "Come on. It's like 
a graveyard in here. There can't be anybody in the 
kitchen now, either. Let's check it out."

She was right. A couple windows high on the wall 
offered us the only light in the large, tile-clad 
industrial kitchen. It was deserted and clean. At the 
back we found a surprisingly large single toilet 
bathroom, with six lockers on one wall, a nice sink in 
a counter, and a wicker chair beside it. The toilet was 
on its own wall, plenty of room to get up close to it 
on either side or in front, to see what I wanted to 
see.

"This is it!" Jamie gushed, pulling me into the 
bathroom and locking the door behind us. She flicked on 
the light and promptly took off all her clothes, 
hanging her blouse and skirt neatly on the hooks that 
she found on the back of the door. Her tennis shoes and 
panties she stuck in one of the lockers. Once again, I 
felt distinctly as if I was in a warped state of being, 
an adrenaline-induced shock of excitement that froze my 
brain in a sort of panic. This couldn't be happening to 
me! I was bound to get busted! Holy fucking shit!

Jamie had a knockout 14 year-old body. Her tits were 
small and perfectly rounded, the size of tennis balls, 
with tiny pink nipples that poked sharply upward. Her 
legs were skinny but her ass was round and smooth, 
flaring wonderfully from hips that were only slightly 
curvy. It was completely beyond reason--and beyond 
cool--that she was doing this horrid, sexy thing there 
with me. I could only stand and admire her body, 
speechless, seeing it fully nude for the first time, 
trying with all my might to keep from hooting and 
hollering like I'd just won the lottery. That's the 
only way I can describe how that kind of moment feels. 
And then, oh my God, I remembered what it was that she 
wanted to do, and my knees very nearly gave way.

Jamie was about to shit. Right here in front of me. And 
it turned her on!

She climbed up onto the toilet seat, squatting, 
reversed, her hands gripping the exposed pipes that 
rose from the old-fashioned tank module at the back. I 
was still fully-clothed, and Jamie didn't seem to care. 
She was already pushing, ducking her head down to try 
to see beneath her ass. She was in her own lust-blind 
world and barely even knew I was there. It was almost 
as if my only purpose just then was to serve as a 
witness, to be able to verify to her later that she had 
indeed done what she was now trying to do.

If that was to be my role, I was happy with it. How 
often does any guy have a chance to place himself as 
close as he wants to a woman's glorious, shitting 
asshole? I knelt with my face perhaps six inches away 
from her blooming rosebud and the dark turd that was 
already crowning from within it.

"Oh fuck, Brett, oh God!" Jamie moaned, pissing in 
great spurts as she strained to push her bowels. Her 
urine sprayed all over her ankles and feet, it was such 
a heavy and lubricant-obscured flow. Obviously her 
pussy was seriously gooped-up and causing her pee to 
get real sloppy. She didn't seem to care at all. Her 
entire focus was on her straining rectum and it's 
precious, dark cargo.

"Here it--ungh!" she grunted, and a thick dark log 
pushed suddenly out her hole, leaving it gaping, as if 
surprised. I didn't even watch the poop fall--I was so 
transfixed by her open anus. The next turd was right 
there inside! The end of it was almost out, so her 
asshole was still stretched to accommodate it. Not even 
one small smear of brown had left its mark on any of 
Jamie's skin--the first turd had fallen free and clear 
of any stickiness. This next one looked to be more of 
the same. Solid and heavy. Lightheaded, rock hard, I 
reached out and held my hand to catch it. God help me, 
but I wanted more than anything to hold Jamie's shit in 
my hand!

She saw what I was doing. "That's it, baby," she 
encouraged. "Catch my shit! Hold my hot, filthy shit in 
your hand, Brett! -God! This is so sick!"

Then it was out, too. Just--POP--and I was suddenly 
holding this hard, slippery piece of crap, maybe four 
inches long and a couple inches around. It was dark 
brown and barely lumpy at all. It smelled like a barn, 
but it wasn't bad. Perhaps because I was so horny, it's 
hard to say, but I didn't mind the stench at all. It 
had an odor, very strong, but not an odor that repelled 
me. In fact, it worked on me in the opposite way: I 
smelled that putrid chunk of waste and got even harder.

My mouth watered.

I remembered the weekend before, the taste of her shit 
on my tongue as I cleaned her ass in the moonlight. Our 
mouths smashed painfully together as we shared the 
filth between us. My lips, in fact, were still a little 
sore. My entire mouth had stung for a whole day 
afterward from the residue of feces that I could never 
quite get rid of. It was a tingle--and a nearly choking 
aftertaste--that just wouldn't go away. But now I was 
craving to suffer it once again. Despite everything in 
my brain screaming NO! NO! NO! I knew that I might once 
more willingly taste Jamie's fresh shit.

"Mmmmmmm..." Jamie's piss splattered all over the seat 
again, as she still squatted, moaning softly to 
herself. She was finished with her straining, as if 
she'd simply quit, leaving some more up in there for 
later. A lazy hand wandered down between her legs and 
played itself through the last sloppy spurts of urine. 
Small showers of it bounced back onto my own hand and 
onto the gift I held. Jamie stepped off the toilet and 
crouched next to me.

"Look, look at this--the first one's right here." Jamie 
pointed into the bowl, and we both leaned over and 
gazed drunkenly at her first turd for a long moment. 
The bathroom was utterly silent. Beyond the door, not a 
single sound could be perceived, as if we were shut off 
from the rest of the normal world now, we had gone too 
far and we were cast out. Or else we were that 
distracted, that overcome.

The dark log was too heavy to float much, so it had 
slid to the bottom of the bowl, half of it hidden down 
the porcelain throat. Jamie reached in and grabbed it, 
keeping her hand submerged in the water. We watched, 
fascinated, as she slowly squeezed her fingers tight, 
the shit diving, curling out from between her knuckles 
like angry brown snakes. Awkwardly launched free but 
still heavy in the piss-rich water, they all slowly 
drifted down into the curve of the toilet neck, soon 
half-hidden again in a messy mass of coiling shitty 
ropes.

Lifting her hand out of the water, Jamie let the excess 
pissy mixture drip back into the bowl. Some of it ran 
down to her elbow and dripped onto her thigh, but she 
didn't seem to care. She was fixated on her fingers. On 
the clumps and streaks of brown that were still there. 
Then she looked at me. In her eyes was a deep childlike 
terror. It was clear that Jamie was nearly overwhelmed 
with the horror of what we were doing. The little girl 
in her was trying to shake her free.

"This is so sick," she muttered. "There's something 
wrong with me. This is so disgusting...." Her voice 
trailed off as her eyes went back to study her filthy 
hand. I watched as the hormone-filled woman in her 
overcame the little girl. She slowly brought her hand 
closer and closer to her moist, pink lips. Finally, 
with a deep breath, she tightly shut her eyes, opened 
her mouth wide, and stuck in two fingers.

Instantly, Jamie's other hand shot down to her crotch. 
She began to rub her mound with fevered jerks. An 
animal ferocity seemed to overtake her. Soon her 
fingers were in her cunt, yanking on her hole, ramming 
hard. Her dirty hand remained at her mouth, now with 
all four fingers shoved in deep, all the way to the 
last knuckles. Her thumb painted a greasy brown streak 
down her cheek. I could see her throat swallowing over 
and over as she sucked. Once, twice, she gagged hard, a 
retching sound erupting from around her fingers that 
nearly made me puke. But she held her stomach, and she 
didn't remove her hand.

She just knelt there, eating her own shit, fucking 
herself, and moaning a little.

For several minutes we remained like that, Jamie 
sucking on the fingers of one hand while the fingers of 
the other violated her raging pussy. I sat there like a 
big idiot, unable to do anything at all, completely 
captivated. Probably, like my psychiatrist would say 
many years later, I was somewhat traumatized; but to a 
fourteen year-old boy, anything that involved a naked 
girl and her hot, open vagina could not possibly be bad 
in any way, shape or form.

Finally, inspiration struck. Or insanity. Basically, I 
completely forgot about school. I blanked totally on 
that simple fact. Raising my hand, I smashed my pet 
turd onto Jamie's little breasts. Her tiny pink nipples 
were instantly buried beneath a thick swipe of brown 
fetid goo. Chunks fell down her sides, rolled down her 
tummy to rest against her striving masturbatory hand, 
thus mashing crap accidentally into her wispy pubic 
hair and her heavily-stroked clitoris. I relished the 
feel of the thick pudding as I spread it around. I 
found myself painting it all over her upper body, from 
her waist to her neck.

And Jamie loved it. She made sounds that no middle 
school kid has ever heard from a girl before. If a 
person had been listening outside the bathroom door 
just then, they'd have sworn a grown dog was in there 
yelping like that, barking out such a rough need.

Her hand had left her mouth, totally clean, and shot 
down to her breasts. She began to help me smear it all 
around. She laughed. "Oh, fuck, God--oh, wow!" Her 
fingers on her pussy worked even harder, and soon she 
was heading into the first orgasm of her life. She 
stopped all laughing, fell clumsily onto her back, her 
legs flying out from under her. I got my hands back on 
her breasts, massaging the slippery, nasty ass grease 
even deeper into her skin. Lifting her butt off the 
ground, Jamie put her once-more filthy hand down to her 
pussy and rubbed it all over her clit. Crying out, 
thrusting her crotch against her determined fingers, 
she came.

---- 4 ---

Those were the first moments in my life that I ever 
gave myself completely over to what I wanted.

Fuck all consequences. I didn't care.

First, it was the sneaking out, the loading dock, my 
face in the crack of her filthy ass.

Then that last part, Jamie letting me watch her, 
letting me touch her.

Me painting Jamie with her own shit.

I wanted to come. I wanted right then to blast a huge 
mess of jism all over the place, with her lying there 
covered in a disgusting sheen of brown sweaty mess. I 
wanted to fall on her and fuck her hard. My cock ached 
to get free of my jeans and ram deep inside any hole it 
could find. In my immature way, I was still hesitant, 
though. Despite what I'd already pushed myself to do. 
Regardless of all the proof I had now that Jamie was a 
nasty whore who didn't care about any kinds of normal 
rules at all. Still, I hesitated.

I wanted what I wanted, for sure. But there was a way 
to avoid unnecessary pain, too. Part of me had come to 
my senses. No more "fuck all consequences" for that 
day, at least.

"Stay here. Don't move," I told Jamie. Before she could 
catch her breath enough to make a sound, I was out the 
door of the bathroom and through the kitchen and 
cafeteria. A stairwell rose nearby to the second floor, 
and I hit it running. On my watch I saw that we'd been 
gone almost fifteen minutes from class. The bell would 
ring to go to sixth period at any moment.

I remember it felt like slow motion, how I thought some 
student would come out of nowhere and see me--the bell 
was surely going to ring too soon and then everybody 
would come out and get a big fat eyeful of me skipping 
class, running down the hall, my hands covered with 
Jamie's shit.

But none of that happened after all. I made it to the 
far side of the upstairs alcove with no one around to 
see me. Yanking up my shirt tail to cover my shit-
besotted hand, I pulled down hard on the fire alarm--
and ran like a rabbit back down the stairs.

I was all the way back down to the first floor, just 
leaping inside the swinging double doors of the 
cafeteria, before the blaring alarm siren had roused 
anyone out into the hallway on the first floor. There 
was no way I'd been seen. It was a complete miracle. 
Our sixth period teachers would now think we were 
absent, and our fifth period teachers would assume we'd 
gone on to the next class because of the alarm--at 
least, I hoped that's how it would be.

Bursting back into the bathroom, I found Jamie exactly 
where I'd left her. She still roamed her sexy brown 
breasts with one hand and lightly strummed her labia 
with the other. Looking me up and down, she chuckled.

"Nice idea, Brett," she said. I could barely hear her 
voice over the raucous alarm. Dimly behind that noise, 
the clatter and voices of students could be heard 
moving down the halls and out the building. Jamie 
raised her voice a little. "I had an orgasm just then, 
you know. Before you took off."

"Yeah," I grunted curtly, struggling hard to unbuckle 
my pants. My hands were still slippery from the shit 
that hadn't yet dried; but quickly enough I'd shoved my 
jeans and underwear to my ankles. Even at fourteen, my 
cock was man-sized, thick, and purpled. I stroked it 
fast and hard, aiming it right at Jamie's face. I 
wanted to come all over her gorgeous pink lips.

"Oh, Brett, baby!" crooned Jamie, her eyes wide. "He's 
so beautiful!"

That did it--my cock pumped out jet after jet of thick 
white cream. 

Gushing, the world rushing ten ways at once, I was 
suddenly dizzy. Staggering to keep my balance, I saw 
globs of my semen splatter all over Jamie's chest, 
neck, face, and hair. She squealed like a first grader 
and closed her eyes.

I swear an entire galaxy of stars exploded inside my 
head at that very moment. It was an orgasm that still 
shakes me today to remember it. I lost all control of 
myself. My knees buckled. I fell to the floor.

Beside me, as I lay trying so hard to breathe and see 
straight once again, Jamie's slight form stirred a 
little. Her laughter returned.

"Wow," was all she could say. "Wow."

We just lay there muttering that one word--that single, 
stupid, perfect word--for a very long time.

---- 5 ---

Eventually, doggedly, we got clean and we got ourselves 
home.

If it hadn't been for the excellent industrial strength 
pressure-washing wand that we found in the cafeteria 
kitchen, we'd have never been able to get ourselves and 
our clothes clean enough to walk back to our respective 
houses unnoticed. That lunch lady sink was even so big 
that I lifted Jamie up into it so she could take a 
bath.

And it turns out that granulated dishwashing detergent 
is pretty good for getting both the stain and the stink 
out. Jamie said with great seriousness, "I'm gonna have 
to remember that."

We finally emerged out the back door of the kitchen 
into the late afternoon light of the school's service 
alley. Nothing was back there to see us but three 
pigeons and a stray cat. It was four fifteen.

With a shock, it hit me. I was disappointed.

Looking over at Jamie as we emerged from the alley and 
began to lean our separate ways, I couldn't help but 
feel let down and a little jealous. It angered me to 
feel that way, but I just couldn't help it!

I'd been expecting to taste Jamie's shit again--and I'd 
missed my chance.

Pausing, we both stared at each other for a long 
moment. Before turning and walking our own ways home, 
we held that look between us. She was smiling, relaxed, 
twirling her damp hair around a finger. My hands were 
fists in my pockets.

We weren't going to kiss. It would taste awful now, and 
the mood was too far gone. Plus, I was seething at 
myself for being so thick. So we just admired each 
other for one more slow minute or two.

And then finally, wordlessly, we took our secrets home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright 2003 by bluepervina.

Feedback welcomed!

bluepervina[AT]gmail[DOT]com 
/~bluepervina

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 53