Let me be clear: this post is in no way meant to be enticing to those with a fetish for toilet play. The types of video’s I’ve made in this genre have nothing to do with real life. Therefore I will endeavor to use terminology that is not titillating. You should still be able to follow along.
I’ve had my share of flings & one-night stands over the last couple of decades. My preference is usually to not spend the night for one particular reason: I am very ‘regular’ & always ‘go’ as soon as I wake up in the morning. That can make things awkward with a new person, especially if they are hoping for morning sex.
I recently had a one nighter with a fella I just met. (I still have a wonderful boyfriend, for those on the ball…we’re open about the occasional dalliance as we realistically understand monogamy doesn’t usually work…but that’s a whole other topic). This fella was a friend of a friend so I felt comfortable going for it after a brief flirtation. I was out of town though so ended up spending the night at his…& found myself in an awkward predicament I thought my fans might find amusing, cringe-worthy, interesting or at least a nice break from the US political gong-show.
When we arrived at his fancy custom designed home I got the tour. I made special note of the locations of the bathrooms. One on the main level near the kitchen. One in the guest bedroom. One in his bedroom. But wait, what in the actual fuck? The toilet in his open-style bedroom was basically right out in the open. Sort of tucked behind a half wall with no door, fully in view from the bed & most of the room.
I was pretty confident this had nothing to do with a fetish. This was just a design concept that made perfect sense for a single guy.
The sex was fantastic. Lots of fun. We drifted off to sleep with me feeling impending doom about what’s coming in the morning: he had mentioned that he likes morning sex.
From a deep sleep at early light I felt him slip carefully from the bed & out of the bedroom. I slowly start to become more alert…& as it goes every morning my body switches into evacuation mode. I start to panic. In the morning light the toilet sits there half out in the open like a clown at a funeral.
Like a lot of people, women in particular, I like to be discrete about my lavatory visits. I try to be fairly stealth about it. Why? To create the illusion that I don’t even do that nasty bit of business? Classy ladies don’t vacate their bowels? Who knows, but at 40 years old I’m still trying to do it on the sly & the last thing I want a temporary lover to be thinking about or visualizing is what I’m doing in the washroom for 15 minutes.
I listened but could not hear him. I decided to take a risk on the open toilet. I could try to make it to one of the others but I didn’t know where he was & if I would get intercepted. I worried he might think I was snooping or worse, he might actually know exactly what I’m doing. God forbid.
I sat there, like a deer in an open field during hunting season. My bowels locking up in fright & cramping in urgency at the same time. Trying to relax, bargaining that if he walked in I could just ask for privacy. So what if I was doing a #2 for Christ sake. Everyone does it. I could make a joke about it. Maybe I’d even seem cool to not care. But then I heard a noise & my butt clamped shut as I jumped up, flushed & hurried back to bed.
A few minutes later he came back in as I pretended to still be asleep. He slipped into bed & started cuddling me. The last thing I wanted was to be touched. He asked if I’d like to have sex or if I was more hungry? He could make me breakfast or we could go out, then have more sex later. Again, SO wasn’t interested in sex as my poor body sent out alarm bells that it was time for our morning routine. Keeping my game face I tried to suggest as sensually as possible that we go out for breakfast & have sex later. That would allow me to ask to ‘freshen up’ before going out. A great plan! I could use the guest room under the guise of wanting to test out the “James Bond” washroom cleverly hidden behind sliding doors.
I nearly sprinted to the door as he followed & got me a towel…trying to sneak in a little sexy fondle & kiss. Bless his heart. He was actually perfectly lovely but it was everything I could do to not squat right there & relieve myself. I was a woman on a mission. He no sooner left & I got down to business. It was such a relief. I think I heard angels singing. But the moment I flushed he opened the door & walked in saying he was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach the shampoo on the high shelf in the shower. I was MORTIFIED. Was he fucking standing right outside the door waiting for me to finish??? Could he smell it?!
So much drama over a natural bodily function. Why all the fuss? I don’t know but I don’t think I’m anywhere near being more okay with it than I ever have been.
Cheers,
Mistress T
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