Philip and Tasha just left my apartment after the three of us spent the last two hours engaged in a stupendous scat session. It's one of the advantages of living above the office: when time becomes available (this time a snowfall forced the cancellation of all the afternoon appointments), and we are all in the mood (when are we ever not in the mood?), it's easy to just climb the stairs to my den of iniquity and get filthy together. They showered while I cleaned up our mess, and I'm still covered in shit, delaying taking a shower myself for as long as possible. I love being like this, as you know, every inch of my body coated in brown ooze. I threw another plastic drop cloth over my couch, and that's where I am now, reliving what just transpired.
Alexa, Philip's wife, is away at a veterinary conference, and perhaps he misses her badly which is why he was so demanding with Tasha and me, his tongue in our asses almost from the moment we had our clothes off, begging us to shit in his mouth, one after the other. Tasha and I usually like to spend some time alone together, just the two of us, kissing and fondling each other, eating each other's pussy and asshole, with Philip joining in only peripherally at first. We like it when he pisses on us, and Tasha and I like pissing in each other's mouth as well. When we are thoroughly turned on and going wild with each other, that's when one of us will shit on the other, in her mouth, usually.
Now Philip gets fully involved, shit kissing with that person or helping to spread the shit on her tits or elsewhere. Philip is often the last of us to shit, Tasha and I well-covered in our own waste by this time, and our favorite scenario is he does it in both our mouths as she and I kiss each other. When he's done and we've devoured mouthfuls of his load and smeared it all over our faces, we share sucking his cock, sometimes until he comes in our mouths. But other times we want him to fuck our cunts and asses some more and shoot his load there. Sitting here now I just pulled my finger out of my ass and a rivulet of cum flowed out.
People always ask me how I like being a nurse's assistant working with Dr. Cramer, and I always say I love it, which is totally true. But when pressed for reasons why, I obviously refrain from mentioning the times like today we spend together in my apartment. That's unfortunate because they are a major reason I love being here. Likewise, my experiences with some of the patients -- often they too have been absolutely amazing.
For example:
One day Daria R. had an appointment to see Dr. Cramer at 6 p.m. She was one of his special "patients" who visited after hours and off the books, always with the single purpose of engaging in scat sex. (I will have more to say about these women in another chapter.) I had never met her before, which was a little unusual since by this time I had at least struck up an acquaintance with these women. Philip had called and told me to expect her, that he was running late at the hospital and would get to the office as soon as he could. "Tend to her as you see fit until I get there," he told me. A little before six, a woman came through the door, early-forties (this I learned later, my first guess was 10 years younger than that), dark-brown medium-length hair, slim figure, very pretty.
"I'm Daria," she said. "You must be Rita, yes?"
A little surprised she had heard of me, I replied, "Yes, I'm Rita. Dr. Cramer is running a bit late at the hospital, but said he'd be here shortly."
"Is Tasha not here today?" she asked.
"No, she left early."
She took that news in and then said, "I had a little accident, Rita."
Visions of screeching tires and crunching car metal flashed through my mind, and I blurted, "Are you okay? Was it a car accident?"
She smiled and said, "No, nothing like that. This kind of accident." She turned around and lifted the raincoat she was wearing up to her waist revealing a large black stain on the seat of her off-white jeans. "I should call it a planned accident, I suppose," she added. "I did it on purpose thinking I would surprise Philip."
With her coat lifted I could smell as well as see what she was referring to. I grinned and said, "Oh dear, I see. That must feel exquisite, however, all mushy, right? Philip would have been more than surprised, he would be drooling, I'm sure." I smiled broadly to reassure her I was unfazed by what she had done, even thought it was erotic. "Come in the back and let's see what it looks like." (She had a bag with her that held an extra pair of slacks.) We went into the old exam room and Daria kicked her shoes off. She unbelted her jeans and hopped onto the exam table, splooshing her ass down and rotating it all around in the mess in her panties.
"I'm so disappointed he's not here," she said. "I drank two cups of hot chocolate before leaving home, knowing what effect they would have on me, especially after the bacon and sausages I had with breakfast. Driving here I could feel all kinds of interesting things happening down there, and I started farting some huge smelly farts, long and juicy, making me all excited. Oh, my God, it was wonderful! As soon as I parked the car outside the office I could feel the first load of shit sliding out of my ass into my panties. The smell was heavenly. I sat in my car for ten minutes as two more massive loads flowed out of me adding to the mess. I kept rocking back-and-forth squishing the shit pile all over my ass. I know Philip would have loved rubbing his face up and down my ass crack licking it all up."
She had absolutely no qualms about telling me all this, though we had met for the first time about two minutes before. Unlike some of the women who came to see Philip, she was easy to feel comfortable with, very open and friendly.
"I know exactly what you mean," I told her, swept in by her geniality. "I love that feeling, too. Especially if the urge pops out of nowhere and you know you're just going to shit right there on the spot no matter what."
"Oh, God, that's so true," she agreed. "I remember one time I was at a wedding reception and maybe had a little bit too much to drink, got done dancing, and as I sat down again knew I was going to shit in like five seconds, and out it came! Fortunately, I was wearing pantyhose over my panties or that would have been a hell of a mess! The smell was strong just the way I like it; luckily no one was too near me or they might have keeled over. A door to the outside was just behind me and I made a beeline for it. I didn't care about the smell so much, I just wanted to get where nobody could see me and I could rub all that shit over my ass through my dress. I stood next to the wall and smushed my ass up against it several times, even found a bench to sit on and wiggle around for a bit. I thought about calling Philip, but just went home, hoping my husband wasn't there. He wasn't, so I was able to play in my shit in the tub and smear it on me."
I told her to turn around and get on her knees, and I would help her remove her jeans. Her shit smelled delicious and the stain indicated her entire ass must be buried in poop. "Let's get these off and I'll help you spread it all over you. Unless you want to wait for Dr. Cramer."
"No," she responded, "who knows how long he might be; it might be drying out by then." She studied me for a second and then continued, "Philip told me about you and how you loved scat and getting dirty."
