Michelle’s Bathroom Ecstasy

Michelle knew straight away when she saw the new temp just how much she wanted to fuck her. Nineteen, straight into the office from high school, about 5 ft 2 inches high, slim, small beautiful tits, and full sensual lips. Her name was Amanda and she knew hot she was with her short blonde bowl haircut, glossy red lips and nails–strikingly similar to a young Laura Dern. Everyday she wore a perfectly fitted, tight navy blue knee length skirt and short sleeved sky blue blouse immaculately tucked into it. Best of all was her beautiful, bronzed bare legs, and she always wore black patent pointy toe stiletto pumps, something that Michelle couldn’t get out of her head when she was pleasuring her cunt every night (always wearing nothing but her own pair which she often sniffed wishing they were Amanda’s pair as she finger fucked herself off the planet). Michelle was 51, same height as Amanda, her long hair still its natural black–a ringer for British actress Caroline Munro–bi-sexual, and interested in exploring new sexual avenues. She had had been reading up on coprophilia in her spare time when she wasn’t trying to balance the books, something she rarely did if she could get away with it, and it struck a chord with her, made her heart thump a little faster. Not full blown scat, that sickened her, all those lunatics rolling around in each other’s poo, “Yuck!” Just the simple sensual idea of masturbating off the smell of another woman’s crap. “Wow!” she thought to herself, “wouldn’t that be something”. She would often go into a cubicle after another chick had taken a shit. After lunch, she noticed Amanda come back from lunch, it was Saturday and they were the only two on duty. Amanda had gone for Chinese. Straight away Amanda headed for the toilets and Michelle slowly sneaked behind her. Amanda’s tight ass swayed in her navy blue skirt, her patent pumps shining bright under the fluorescent lights, clickety clacking on the tiles making Michelle’s cunt wetter than a lake.

It was a single cubicle toilet, right beside the disabled room; Michelle had recently burrowed a discreet but functional hole where she could catch some action. Amanda’s arms were folded as she walked in; she turned around catching a slightly pensive and jittery Michelle behind her, “Oh…um… I’ll just use this one,” she said nervously, going into the disabled restroom, her heart now thumping in her throat with anticipation, her words slightly stuttered with her ever increasingly erratic breathing. Amanda smiled slightly, smugly. “Whatever you say Ma’am,” her twee country Texan drawl nearly making the mature’s hairy cunt short circuit, still staring in Michelle’s eye as she moved on.

They entered their respective restrooms simultaneously, Michelle immediately falling to her knees to catch Amanda lifting the seat, pulling her tight navy blue skirt up around her hips, still smiling smugly to herself. She dropped her pink panties around her ankles, but instead of sitting on the bowl she hovered over it, gently pulling her ass cheeks apart with her fingertips. Her black patent, pointy-toe stiletto pumps gleamed in the light, glistening like Michelle’s pubes as she was playing with herself under her tight navy blue Wranglers jeans, a damp patch seeping through. What she saw and heard next was simply heavenly.

Breathing in slowly, Amanda bared down on her asshole and an enormous dark brown turd slowly began to slide out of her beautiful tight anus–stretching it as far as it would go, her legs quivering slightly, bending inwards. She gently breathed out, a sigh of a satisfied moan in it, the turd sliding all the way out plopping into the bowl. Michelle, now with her jeans around her ankles, had one hand furiously masturbating her clit and the other up her tight red t-shirt pleasuring her nipples. It was inevitable what would happen next. “OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHAGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!” It was the ultimate orgasm, from the ultimate fantasy; just how could Amanda not have heard it for goodness sake! Michelle froze. Her heart somewhere behind her throat and lips, pleasure turning beyond shame to shock and fear, seconds seemingly like hours, her cunt juices all-over her fingers, her jeans still around her ankles, the heel from one of her dark brown leather cowboy boots tapping off the wall unconsciously. Yet Amanda did not seem to notice, she wiped her anus twice: the first time almost spotless, second time perfect. She bent over to pull up her panties with her asshole directly in Michelle’s view, tantalizingly sliding her pink panties back up her smooth lingerie free legs, her long glossy red nails so beautiful and erotic. Flushing, she quickly washed her hands, dried off, opening the door and heading out.

Michelle had gotten away with it! She fell back on her butt, folded her arms and sighed to herself. “That was a close one!” But something was wrong. Amanda’s trademark sound of high heels on the tiles didn’t ring forth. Twenty seconds passed. Nothing. “Where was she?” Amanda mused to herself. She stood up, getting herself together, pulling her jeans and panties back up and calming her twitching foot. She did her best to clean the sexual mess, “It will do, if I sneak discreetly back behind my desk.” Unlatching the door and walking out, she was still looking at her crotch when she felt a forceful hand painfully tugging her ponytail and dragging her back into the disabled restroom. It was Amanda. “You dirty nasty old cunt… What the fuck do you fucking think you are doing?!” Her rural Texan manners seemingly gone, her eyes filled with rage. “I could easily sue you for sexual harassment, hell, worse!” Michelle’s worst nightmares were flashing before her, a sickness appeared from nowhere in the pit of her stomach, gripped by fear and self loathing. Amanda’s tone changed immediately. She gave one of those deep sensual erotic smiles that Michelle would often think about when she masturbating: no teeth, just lips alone with an intense stare. “Maybe since you got you kicks out of me Ma’am, there’s something I could do to return the compliment…,” giggling to herself, remembering the hold she had over boys and girls alike in her sorority days.

Michelle, was of course at the teen’s mercy. “Anything you say,” she whispered, head still bent back slightly, her ponytail still in Amanda’s clenched fist. “You can latch that door again for a start,” she said, slowly letting Michelle’s hair slide from her gently loosening grip, holding it up to her nose as it gradually work itself free. Michelle obeyed, what else could she do?
“Now, turn around, that’s it, you’re a good gal, ain’t you?”
“Um… yes?”
“Come towards me, let’s see what we can do to put this right.”
The phones had rang about five times since their re-entrance into the bathroom, but neither were too concerned right now for varying reasons.
“So, what do you want Amanda?”
Amanda put her right hand on Michelle’s back, then slid one finger up her spinal cord, making a full hand again when it reached her neck, and stroked it. “I’ve always been turned on by women, older women especially.” Stalemate. “Ma’am,” she said, that evil smile appearing again, looking down slightly in false humility, “may I kiss you on the lips?”
As if Michelle would or could say no.

Moments went by in a flash. Before she knew it, she was lying face down on the floor, her buns up in the air. Jeans back around her ankles, Amanda was rimming her anus–kissing it; stroking with the beautiful, gentle, soft, warm, feminine fingers of her right hand; sliding them in and out. One of her stiletto pumps was off, pressed up to Michelle’s nose and mouth with her left hand, and the mature woman was almost hyperventilating with ecstasy. “I really need to come in on Saturdays more often,” Michelle mused to herself, though the thought was one of a billion rampaging through her head, fighting for top billing with the sexual energy that surged through her like lightning.
“What a bizarre day this has been…”

(Image Source: Channel 69 Video)