Although I often have upskirts on my mind, they’re not the only thing I think about when it comes to sex. This is the first in a series of occasional “Random Musings of The Champ” about topics other than upskirts. But don’t worry, I’ll stick to sex rather than politics.
You know, I really do love anal sex. But when I’m banging some girl up the ass, the last thing I want is a serious case of poop-dick, so I always say NO to skid marks. The Champ does NOT like Pooped-in Panties. But sometimes, Shit Happens. This was one of those fateful occasions.
One night, some years ago (before this whole Turkish up-burqa disaster) I’d met this insanely hot chick at a bar. We’d talked, we’d danced, we’d flirted, we’d talked about what we liked in bed. I’d even hinted at anal, and she hadn’t slapped me or said “that’s disgusting”. It was a good evening, and it only got better when she invited me back to her place. I mentally high fived myself for pulling this one off, meanwhile my cock was already throbbing in my pants just from the anticipation of banging this hottie.
We finally made it back to her place, and we started tearing each others’ clothes off. It was a free-for-all whirlwind with clothes going everywhere. We quickly got to the point where we were both just in our undies. She was wearing a basic white thong – the very one you see in these photos. I bent her over the bed, and started pulling that bad girl down. I had briefly considered putting my tongue in her ass right then and there, but since it was the first time with her, I decided to hold off a while. That turned out to be the best decision I made that year! In our haste, we’d never gotten around to turning off all the lights, and as I got her thong pulled down to about mid thigh, my eye was suddenly drawn to the crotch like a magnet to steel. What I saw horrified me – I thought for a minute I was seeing a discarded Hershey bar wrapper on a hot summer afternoon. I stopped. I looked away. I looked back, hoping the image I’d just seen was the evening’s alcohol coming back to haunt me. But no, there it was again – a huge, brown, poopy skid mark sullying the crotch of what appeared to be new and otherwise snow white thong. “What’s wrong, loverboy?”, she purred. “Can’t figure out how to get my panties off? You did so well with the bra, I thought panties would be a snap for you.”
At that moment, I froze. My brain locked up. How do you tell a woman who is hotness personified, who ten seconds ago you couldn’t wait to throw you dick into, that her thong is full of shit? And worse than that, I could smell it. Not a lot, not like a porta-potty at a Lady GaGa concert. More like a slight but distinct fecal flavor, wafting in my direction. My boner was evaporating, and I realized I was going to have to make a snap decision. “Act decisively, Champ, act decisively” I told myself. I decided I’d still hit it, but try and coax her into the shower first. Even if we didn’t make it to anal, I love to eat pussy, and there was no way I was going down on that fishy brown surprise.
“Sorry, babe, my leg cramped up for a second there” I responded lamely. I finished getting her panties off, baseball pitched them to the corner of the room, which earned me a “what was that?” But I figured it couldn’t possibly improve the situation if she got a chance to see or smell her now brown and white striped thong. I then whipped off my own skidmark free tightie whities, and pondered the best approach to get her into the shower. Having been a Marine, I decided to take charge with a frontal assault. I spun her around, picked her up, and carried her into the bathroom. I got lucky, and she thought it was sexy. I said “hey hon, let’s grab a quick shower first, it was pretty hot & sticky at the club tonight, and I wouldn’t want to have a case of ‘Schwetty Balls’”, referencing the famous Saturday Night Live (SNL) skit. That got her laughing, and I knew I was home free.
We had a sexy shower together, starting our sexcapades right there. In a flirtatious way, I gave her a full body wash, paying special attention to the back door, lest I re-discover my lost urge to stick my boy up her Hershey highway. Back in the bedroom, clean and refreshed, I ate her pussy like Gandhi coming off a hunger strike, and she had her first orgasm while my tongue was still deeply embedded in her vagina. I was amazed and immensely excited by the quantity of thick creamy cum that flowed from her pussy as it throbbed with the intensity of her orgasm. As it turned out, she wasn’t a squirter, but she was the next best thing – a gusher!
We ended up dating for quite a while, and I quickly learned from the bedroom and the laundry hamper that she is one of these women who’s pussy is constantly excreting lubrication. On occasions when she would buy new panties, the crotch was only pristine white for about the first 15 minutes of wear. By the time a month had passed, the crotch of a new pair of panties would be permanently stained from constant exposure to her girl juice. And fortunately, the poopy-thong adventure must have just been the result of a bad day, because I never again had to suffer through a fecal faux pas like that fateful night.