Reader
Open on Literotica

My Best Friend's Crazy Fat Sister Ch. 02

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - When crazy fat chick Zoe moves into Sean's spare room, he quickly finds out just how insane she is. However, Sean is hardly a model of sanity himself, due to his obsessive voyeurism of his new overweight housemate, long his unrequited crush.

Please be aware that these stories are extremely graphic BBW/fat girl fetish stories, and includes female characters using the toilet and having their periods. If these themes are not your thing, please consider whether you want to read these stories. All characters and events are fictional, with any similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Only characters aged 18 or over engage in sexual activity.


***

I was so excited as I drove the van home with Zoe's things in the back, Zoe sitting in the front passenger seat beside me wearing a jumper that showed off her big breasts, and a skirt too short for her figure, but I wasn't about to complain.

Arriving home, I helped Zoe move her things into the spare room, then said, "I'll just show you the bathroom."

Zoe looked at me with her big blue eyes. "Actually Sean, I was hoping to talk to you about that."

"Sure Zoe," I said. "Anything you want."

"I'll explain it when we get in there," said Zoe. She picked up a large sports bag, evidently not too heavy despite its size and walked with me into the bathroom.

"I've cleaned out one side of the vanity for your things," I said opening the cupboard.

"Thanks," said Zoe. "Now what I wanted to talk to you about is that you need to know two things about me. One, I like to save money and two, I'm a friend of the Earth. I just want to make sure that there's no problem with that."

I was unsure of what Zoe was talking about. "Well I can't see a problem," I said.

"Oh good, because it was a real problem with that bitch Emily," said Zoe. She opened the bag and I saw well over a hundred cloth squares of varying colors and designs, and a small plastic container. Zoe took out the container and about thirty of the cloth squares and placed them in the container, then two large blue flowery zipped-up bags. She took these items over to the toilet, placing the container of cloth squares on the cistern, and hanging one of the bags from a small towel hook next to the loo.

"I try to save money and trees by using reusable cloth toilet paper," said Zoe. She picked up three of the cloths -- one lemon, one light blue with dark blue dots and the other pink with purple flowers -- and held them up. "Of course, I use regular toilet paper when I go out and I need to go to the loo. I guess I could carry some cloth toilet paper with me but you never know how many you're going to use when you go number two, and it would be a bit embarrassing to carry around the dirty reusable cloths covered in your poo in a plastic bag." Once more, Zoe proudly held up the cloth toilet paper. "But when I'm at home, I like to use these as my toilet paper."

"You um -- use cloths -- as um, ah, err toilet paper?" I asked uncertainly, not knowing what this entailed.

Zoe laughed her somewhat crazy laugh. "Sean, relax you look so worried. There's nothing for you to worry about, I'll explain it to you. I bought over 20 old towels from a second hand shop, cut them all up and trimmed them into squares. As you can see, I've got heaps of them and I use them to wipe myself clean when I go to the toilet instead of using loo paper from the roll. They're really good, they're softer and stronger than normal toilet paper and they really absorb my pee, my poo and for one week each month, my menstrual blood."

I was worried about what the next stage of this process involved, and Zoe picked up on this. "You're going to ask me what I do with them next, aren't you Sean?" she asked teasingly.

"No," I said nervously, but Zoe again laughed.

"Don't worry, I don't throw them on the floor or anything disgusting," said Zoe. "That's what these bags are for, they're called wet bags. Each time I go to the loo, I throw the dirty cloths I've used in here, zip it up and there's none of my poo-poo smells, no hygiene issues, nothing. And every week, I change the bag over. I clean and wash all the toilet paper I've used during that week, and wash the bag too and that's all there is to it. There's nothing for you to do or see, nothing gross or smelly for you to worry about unless you're brave or silly enough to open the wet bag that's hanging next to the toilet."

"I won't," I assured her.

"So, it's okay if I use reusable cloth toilet paper while I live here?" Zoe asked.

"Yes, I don't have a problem," I assured her.

"That's good, thank you so much Sean," said Zoe. "You made a good choice. One thing you'll learn about me is that I'm one of those girls who's always going to the toilet, takes ages to finish and uses heaps of toilet paper. If I use regular toilet paper, I'm going to cost you a fortune."

"Thanks for the advice," I said, finding it hard to believe that Zoe had discussed such private things with me.

"I'm glad it's not a problem, because it sure was with Emily," said Zoe. "She went off her fucking brain, and made such a drama about it being dirty and unhygienic. I just went back to using normal toilet paper to save me the grief. It will be nice to use these again and not have people bothering me about my toilet habits which by the way aren't anybody's business but mine. I don't hassle Emily for wiping her stinky little arse with regular toilet paper."

Zoe rubbed the soft lemon cloth against her face, before replacing it back into the container with the other cloths. I felt a bit disturbed given that at some stage that cloth would have been used to wipe Zoe's vaginal or anal area clean, probably on more than one occasion, but said nothing and remembered how Zoe and Emily had bickered over the toilet paper situation earlier in the morning. The confusing conversation made sense now.

"Emily had a problem with these too, but she let it go in the end," said Zoe. She removed the other cloth toilet paper rags from the bag and placed them in the vanity cupboard along with the spare blue wet bag, then took out a box and a third wet bag, this one having red flowers.

"I wear reusable cloth menstrual pads when I'm on my period," Zoe continued. "I buy them online. They're nice and soft and absorbent which is good because I have really heavy periods, and each time I change them I put my dirty pads into this red wet bag, seal it up and wash them later, just like my toilet paper. So, when you see both the blue and the red bag next to the toilet, you know what that means and you have to avoid pissing me off that week." Zoe placed the red wet bag and the box containing her sanitary napkins into the cupboard and continued to discuss her pet topic of Emily.

"Emily took issue with me hanging my pads out to dry on the line after I'd washed them because she was worried her kids would see them and ask questions. What she could say is 'Kids, once a month both Aunty Zoe and Mummy like all women shed the linings of our uteruses and have blood coming out of our vaginas, and we need to wear pads in our knickers to absorb the blood. It's called having a period. Your Aunty Zoe, she cares about the environment and that's why she uses cloth pads that she can wash and re-use. Your Mummy, she's an uptight, selfish and anal retentive control freak who doesn't give a shit about the environment and always uses disposable pads that will take hundreds of years to fully decompose.'"

Zoe reached into the bag and to my surprise, extricated a packet of disposable sanitary napkins, super absorbent variety which she placed into the cupboard between the box containing the cloth pads and the red wet bag. She noticed my surprised expression and explained why she had these. "About 18 months ago I got a nasty yeast infection on my period and the doctor said for me to use disposable pads that cycle. These were left over, so I kept them just in case I need them again. I hope not, yeast infections in your vagina are not fun believe me."

Zoe closed the cupboard door and went back to her bedroom, me admiring her plus sized figure from behind, her big bottom accentuated by her short skirt. As she passed her bed, she sneezed and grabbed some tissues from a box.

"You use tissues to wipe your nose?" I asked. I thought that given her preference to use cloths as her toilet paper and that she mainly used cloth sanitary napkins to manage her periods that she would use handkerchiefs rather than tissues to blow her nose.

Zoe regarded me curiously, with a vaguely disapproving look as though my question was too personal and had crossed a line. "Of course I do. What else would I use?"

I thought it strange that a woman who had just shared so many private details with me about her toilet habits and her periods would be offended at a comment about blowing her noise, but much as I liked Zoe and had been secretly crushing on her for years, she was definitely strange.

*

Having a woman living with me occupying my spare room felt a little odd at first after so many years alone and was very different, but given who the woman was it was a good different. I woke up early on the Sunday morning to go for a run, but Zoe was still sound asleep.

Her bedroom door was open and as I passed by I saw her full figure covered with a duvet, sound asleep. Her pretty, chubby face looked peaceful as she slept, and I could have stood looking at her all day, but thought Zoe might be little freaked if she awoke to me staring at her while she was sleeping, so went on my way.

When I returned from my run very sweaty, I could hear the shower running and Zoe was clearly awake. I paused outside the closed, locked bathroom door listening to the water, and my cock grew hard as I thought about what was going in there.

Zoe was naked under the water, washing her curvy fat body. There would be soap and water over her plump bare breasts, the fat cheeks of her bare bum, on her chubby tummy and in the curls of her blonde pubic hair, water going down her plump legs to her bare feet on the shower floor. I got harder still as I thought about Zoe opening her legs to wash her pussy, and parting the cheeks of her fat arse to wash her anus.

The shower was turned off, and I everything was quiet as Zoe dried herself and dressed. I had managed to get my erection under control, but it began to stir again as Zoe emerged from the bathroom. A fat 40-year-old woman probably should not wear hipster jeans, but that was exactly what Zoe was wearing, along with a tee-shirt with three cats on the front that was too tight for her. Zoe's massive mammary glands filled the fabric of the shirt, her fat stomach hanging out of the shirt over her skinny jeans forming a muffin top. It was understandable that Zoe's kids would be embarrassed by their mother when she went around dressing like that, but to me her clothes filled me with desire.

"Hi Sean, been for a run?" said Zoe, her manner chirpy. She stared at me, her big blue eyes while beautiful still undeniably crazy.

"Yes, it was nice out this morning," I said, trying to keep the blood from flowing to my groin.

"You look sweaty, you need a shower," Zoe advised me. Then she completely changed the subject, saying completely at random, "Don't you think the pussy cats on my tee-shirt are so cute?"

"Yes, they are cute," I said, which was true. However, when I thought about Zoe and pussy in the same sentence, I thought of only one pussy, the one between Zoe's legs. What did it look like? Did she have slim vaginal lips, or fleshy ones? What shade of pink was her pussy? Were her vulva and her anus close together, or a fair distance apart? What did her pussy feel like, was she especially damp down there or did her vagina normally stay relatively dry until something turned Zoe on? What did Zoe's pussy smell like, and what did it taste like?

"Well, I'll leave you to it," said Zoe, going on her way with me unable to resist taking a look at Zoe's fat arse filling out her hipster jeans, her white cotton full brief panties visible at the top. That Zoe was barefoot made the look from behind all the more hot, and I felt my erection rising all the more as I hurried into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me.

In the bathroom, I did not have to worry about my out-of-control hard-on, and my penis throbbed as I undressed out of my sweaty running gear. I noticed Zoe had not hung her wet towel up to dry but simply chucked it on the floor and while normally this would have irritated me, the fact that it was done by the object of my desires meant I could not get annoyed.

As I picked up the wet towel, I thought about how it had been used to dry Zoe's naked, plus-sized body. At some stage during that process, it would have gone between her legs to dry her vagina. Could I smell Zoe's femininity on the fabric? I raised the towel to my nose to find out, but was disappointed, not the slightest scent of snatch, not even a hint of pussy smell.

Hanging up Zoe's towel, I remembered I needed a new disposable razor so opened the small cupboard under the sink and immediately stopped. On Zoe's side in addition to her massive supply of reusable toilet paper and other toiletries was the box containing her cloth sanitary pads and the packet of disposable pads. Although my conscience told me not to do, so I was unable to resist taking a closer look at my new housemate's feminine hygiene products.

Opening the box, I looked at Zoe's cloth menstrual pads and stopped in awe. They were among the most beautiful things I had ever seen, such pretty colors and fabrics. The box was divided into two parts, with the napkins on the right side larger and thicker than those to the left and fewer in number. I guessed that Zoe wore the larger pads during the night, and the smaller ones during the day.

My heart raced as my conscience told me that I should not be looking in the box. Zoe's reusable cloth sanitary pads were none of my business, and Zoe was my housemate and deserved better than having her private feminine hygiene products investigated by a nosy pervert like me. I ignored my conscience.

My cock throbbed as I looked closer at Zoe's overnight pads. The designs were so cute; there was a white pad with adorable kittens on it, and another similar one with equally cute puppies. Another overnight napkin was pink with purple flowers, one was sky blue with yellow polka dots, while another had unicorns on the fabric. One other overnight cloth napkin was plain white, but beautiful in its simplicity. Her final overnight pad was light green with dark green edging.

Zoe's standard pads were no less beautiful. One white pad had green cartoon frogs, and I could not help notice a small rust colored stain on one of the frogs close to the center of the napkin, as though Zoe hadn't quite cleaned it properly one time. Another pad was dark blue and had stars, suns, moons, comets and planets on the cover, another was white with pink roses, another had blue flowers and another had a floral bloom print of many different colors and varieties.

There was definitely a pad that would have appealed to hippie chicks, the pad a rainbow of psychedelic colors with anti-nuclear symbols. Especially cute was a pad lilac in color with friendly dolphins on the fabric, this matched by another with a variety of cartoon animals on the cover such as foxes, rabbits, mice and rats. One pad had a seascape design with sea shells, fish, sharks, stingrays, starfish and sea horses. Another cute pad had teddy bears and another was covered with dinosaurs. There was one pad that I supposed only saw action in December; it was white with holly, candy-canes, wrapped presents, Christmas trees and Santa Claus cartoons.

Another pad would have been loved by a menstruating math teacher -- it had complicated calculus style equations and geometric shapes on the cover. I loved Zoe's Australiana style pad. It was yellow in color with green edging, and the cover had eucalyptus leaves and Australian animals -- a kangaroo, a wallaby, an emu, a goanna lizard, a taipan snake, a crocodile, a platypus, an echidna, a dingo, a koala, a wombat, a cockatoo and a Tasmanian devil. Another pad had cartoon superheroes on the cover and I thought they would have to be pretty brave to go where they were going in a few weeks' time. Even Zoe's plainer cloth pads -- pink, light blue, light green, lemon, orange and white -- were beautiful and feminine. There were so many and I could hardly decide on a favorite.

I picked up the purple napkin with the dolphins on the cover, and felt the softness of the cotton and the absorbent material within the pad. The pad had wings that Zoe would wrap around her knickers and popper fasteners to attach the wings together and hold the napkin in place.

I then thought of Zoe pulling her knickers up, adjusting the pad so it was comfortable around her pussy, and in the right position to catch her menses as they flowed in abundance from her vulva. My cock throbbed as I thought of what Zoe's period pad would look and smell like after several hours between her legs absorbing her menstrual blood.

I replaced the pad into the box and closed it, then took my new razor and began to shave, pondering why I was thinking this way. I ran my hands through my light brown hair and looked at my reflection in the mirror, still trying to figure it out. Periods were not sexy, I normally found the subject quite uncomfortable and had never fantasized about menstruating girls before. So why was I getting my rocks off thinking about Zoe on her period and looking at her feminine products? As I finished shaving and stepped under the shower, I thought about how a few minutes earlier, Zoe's beautiful plus-sized body had been naked in here, and my raging erection could no longer be controlled. Taking my cock in my hand, it took less than 30 seconds to cum, sticky white semen spraying in abundance before the water washed it away down the drain.

*

Spending time with Zoe on our first full day together, I found myself wondering if perhaps Zoe was undiagnosed ADHD. She would be concentrating on one thing, then inexplicably would lose interest and find something else to hold her attention. Other times she would stare blankly into space, or pick up her phone and mindlessly scroll through it. Sometimes she would talk to me incessantly, other times it was like I did not exist. ADHD could make sense. As a child, teenager and young adult Zoe was completely focused on tennis so perhaps this masked early symptoms of the disorder, which only came out as she lost her focus and went off the rails later?

Outside the notoriously fickle Melbourne weather had turned wet for the day, so I felt less guilty about watching the football on television that afternoon than weeding the back garden. As I sat on the couch, Zoe came in and sat her big bottom down next to me, looking at me with her blue eyes which darted all over the room. "What you doing?" she asked.

"I'm watching the football," I said.

"Oh, can I watch with you?" she asked.

"Of course, be my guest," I said.

Zoe sat down beside me. "My ex-husband played football. He's a fucking dickhead." After sharing her thoughts on her ex, Zoe stared intently at the game for five minutes before standing up abruptly and declaring, "This is boring." She looked back at me, again randomly changing the conversation topic. "I like living here."

"I'm glad you like it here," I said.

"Yes, because I don't have to put up with Emily. Fuck, my brother's wife is a nagging bitch."

"Emily's okay, Zoe," I said. "I've been friends with her for years."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "It figures that Emily is a geologist, she's got about as much personality as one of the fucking rocks she gets paid thousands of dollars to study. She's a snotty, stuck-up bitch, and ten times worse when it's that time of the month. Mind you, I'm a bitch too when I've got my period. But with Emily, I think the only way my brother tolerates her is that he's allowed to get into her pants. Don't you agree?"
"Um, it's not something I really think about," I said, not comfortable with this conversation.

Zoe sensed my discomfort, and stared at me with her big blue eyes. "Oh sorry, is this conversation about Little Miss Perfect Emily and my whipped brother making you uncomfortable?" Without waiting for my response, Zoe announced abruptly and completely at random, "I'm going to the toilet." She picked up her phone, and walked towards the bathroom on her bare feet.

I should have concentrated on the football, but was immediately consumed by thoughts of Zoe. In a few moments, Zoe would be sitting on the toilet, her jeans and her knickers around her ankles. Collecting a glass and taking it to the kitchen to wash, I heard Zoe close and lock the bathroom door.

Walking extra quiet to avoid detection, I edged closer to the bathroom and was rewarded when I heard the tinkling, splashing sound of Zoe urinating, her pee going into the water of the toilet bowl. My penis got hard at this sound, and when the wonderful sound of her urinating abated I imagined her using cloth toilet paper on her wet pussy, the piss staining the fabric yellow.

My erection throbbed as a series of splashing sounds were audible from the toilet as Zoe emptied her bowels. She stopped pooing for a moment and I thought about what she looked like wiping her poo from her fat bottom. What color was the cloth that was cleaning Zoe's shit away at the moment? I would never know, but could not stop thinking about it.

I heard Zoe fart and once more the sounds of more of her bowel movements going into the toilet were audible, then things went quiet as she presumably wiped her bottom again. I wished I was invisible in the bathroom, being able to see and smell everything she was doing. Zoe had taken her phone with her, was she on it using social media while she was on the toilet? If she was communicating with another person online, did he or she know that Zoe was at this moment sitting on the toilet with her jeans and panties around her ankles as her poo came oozing out of her rectum?

The sounds of Zoe pooing on the toilet continued for close to ten minutes and then were no further sounds of her bowel movements. I heard her flush the toilet and wash her hands, signifying her visit to the toilet was over. I hastily returned to the kitchen so Zoe would not find out I had been loitering in the hallway close to the bathroom, listening to her having a shit.

I probably needn't have worried. When Zoe opened the bathroom door and returned to the living room, she was completely absorbed by her phone and I might as well have been invisible. Thinking about the toilet so much had made me feel the urge to pee, and as I went into the bathroom and closed the door, the lingering smell of Zoe's poo immediately filled my nostrils.

The scent of Zoe's shit was stronger nearer the toilet, and I sniffed in every molecule. As I lifted the toilet seat, I could feel how warm the plastic was from Zoe's fat bare bottom having sat on it for so long. How I wished I could have been the toilet seat. Getting my hard-on under control so I could pee was not easy, but I finally managed it and was able to have a piss. As I shook and zipped myself up, flushed the toilet and washed my hands, the odor of Zoe's smelly poo still evident, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and pondered about my perversions.

This was not the first time I had heard a girl using the toilet or smelled the aftermath of her bowel movements, but at no stage had this ever turned me on in the slightest. One time I had gone to the bathroom when I was over at Adam and Emily's and Emily had been to the toilet immediately before this. I discovered that the ultra-healthy food that health and fitness fanatic Emily put into her mouth wasn't so pleasant when it came out the other end of the pretty brunette's digestive system and into the toilet bowl. But smelling Emily's poo was definitely not sexually stimulating, in fact the opposite. So why was I so excited by the poo smell that lingered from Zoe using the loo? Maybe because it was so private, and something I wasn't supposed to smell? I was perplexed, even as I inhaled Zoe's toilet smell.

On the toilet cistern sat Zoe's plastic container with her reusable toilet paper, and I noticed that now there were fewer in number than yesterday. I reached over, again my conscience telling me I shouldn't and looked at the remaining cloths in the container. I picked up one of the squares of cut up towel and felt how soft the pink fabric was. Evidently one of the towels Zoe had cut up to use as her toilet paper was a beach towel, and the square of blue cloth had a large smiling sun on it, and I wondered if the sun would be smiling so much when it was used to wipe poo away from Zoe's smelly bottom the next time she went to the toilet. The next two squares of cut up towel were plain white and green respectively, and the next one down was light blue with big white and yellow flowers on it. There was an old brown stain noticeable on this cloth toilet paper square, and I wasn't sure if it came from Zoe's poo or from her period, but the latter seemed more likely. For each square, I imagined Zoe on the toilet with her knickers around her ankles, using it to either clean pee from her vulva or poop from her anus.

I glanced at the blue wet bag next to the toilet and thought about what the reusable cloth toilet paper in there looked like smeared in Zoe's foul-smelling feces or wet from her urine. My curiosity was getting the better of me and I nearly opened the bag, my finger on the zip but lost my nerve at the last minute.

People said Zoe was crazy, and this was probably true. However, I was the one who had spent this Sunday sniffing her bath towel hoping to smell her vagina, fantasizing over her feminine hygiene products and her reusable toilet paper and acting like a voyeur when Zoe went to the toilet, things I would never do with any other woman. Maybe I was the crazy one?

The Sunday continued, and that evening Zoe and I went to get take-away for dinner. At the restaurant, we were waiting for our order, and Zoe was listening to music with ear-phones. She was therefore unable to hear the comments of three young guys sitting nearby, who laughed and said 'what a fatso', another saying that the face got an A plus but the rest of it an F, before the guys whispered that they felt sorry for me, waking up next to such a fat wife every morning.

I of course heard it and probably should have said something, but did not, as I was so exhilarated by how the young men thought Zoe and I were married. As we left the restaurant, I felt on cloud nine thinking about how great it would be if we really were married, because then I could have sex with her. As we sat on the sofa that evening, Zoe barefoot and getting stuck into a big bowl of ice-cream, my cock stirred in my underpants as I imagined her beautiful big body sitting there naked, her vagina in direct contact with the sofa.

*

Monday morning meant work for me, but obviously not for Zoe. She emerged for the day barefoot still wearing her long pink pajamas, her blonde hair up in pigtails. Normally, an overweight 40-year-old woman should not wear her hair in pigtails, but Zoe was pretty enough to carry it off well, and I thought they made her look hot. Her big bum in her pink pajamas, her panty-lines visible, made her all the more appealing.

Zoe lay down on the couch, watching television and playing with her phone. I happened to glance into the living room, and my eyes bulged at what I saw. Zoe obviously had some problem with an itchy vagina, as I saw her open her legs and scratch her female area through her pajamas and panties.

However, Zoe's itchy pussy problem was obviously not sated by this. Oblivious to my presence, Zoe kept her legs open, but this time slid her hand down the front of her pajama bottoms and into her knickers, giving her cooch a scratch.

My erection bulged as I watched the plump, pigtailed, pajama-clad barefoot girl on my couch withdraw her hand from her crotch and out of her panties and pajamas. Then subconsciously, Zoe sniffed the fingers that had been inside her knickers, before licking them. With her vagina obviously relieved, Zoe returned her attention to the television, completely unaware I had seen this.

It took me several minutes for my hard-on to subside and me to compose myself enough to leave for work. "See you later Zoe, I'll be back around five. If there's anything you need, just call me on my mobile."

"Don't go electrocuting yourself," Zoe called after me.

All day I kept thinking about how the barefoot, pajama-wearing Zoe had put her hands down her panties to scratch her vagina, and then smelled and licked her own fingers. I thought about what Zoe was doing at the house during the day. Was she masturbating, her fingers up her vagina, with pussy juice all over her hands? Was she getting changed out of her pajamas? Was she sitting on the toilet with her knickers around her ankles wiping her arse with cloth toilet paper? My erection kept rising as these thoughts entered my mind, and I had to fight to keep it down and avoid embarrassment.

When I returned at the end of the day, pig-tailed Zoe was still barefoot and wearing her long pink pajamas, as though she had not moved from the couch all day. However, she had been eating a family sized packet of cream biscuits, food I didn't have in the house. So where had she got it from?

"Hi Zoe," I said, walking into the living room.

"Oh hi Sean," said Zoe, looking up from her phone, then picking up a biscuit and eating it.

"Just out of curiosity, where did you get the biscuits?"

Zoe looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. "I went to the supermarket and bought them around lunchtime. Where else did you think I got them?"

"You went to the shop in your pajamas?" I was dumbfounded. I would never think of going out shopping in my boxer shorts, and even if I did, I would probably get arrested.

"Of course, what's wrong with that?" Zoe implored.

"Um, nothing," I said, becoming distracted by something else. One of the buttons on Zoe's pajama top had come undone, and I could see the fair skin of Zoe's plump left breast. Nowhere near her nipple, but that I had seen at least part of one of her tits sent me into raptures, filling my mind's eye and subsequent dreams with images of what Zoe's big bare breasts looked like uncovered and I awoke on Tuesday, my bed covers like a tent around my groin.

*

Zoe did not help my erection problems on Tuesday. She had risen early enough, and had dressed in a tee-shirt way too tight for her, which showed off her plump tummy, her big boobs and the outline of the bra that fought a losing battle to keep her tits in check. On her bottom half, Zoe wore a long floral 1990s style skirt that came down to her ankles. The skirt was way too tight, but good for me as it showed off her fat arse and the lines of her full-brief panties. Her long blonde hair hung loose today, stray strands on Zoe's chubby, beautiful face.

Again, I had found myself getting hard at inopportune times as I thought of Zoe and what she was up to at home. I pulled into one house to commence a job and had to sit in the driver's seat for five minutes, as walking to the door with what looked like a tent in the front of my pants would have created a bad impression, to put it mildly. Another time, I was close to the city crossing a busy road on foot and so distracted by day-dreaming about what Zoe's big bottom looked like naked that I wandered in front of a tram, and only the urgent ringing of the bell alerted me to danger and allowed me to jump off the tram tracks with seconds to spare.

*

Wednesday morning saw Zoe up and about earlier than me, she had one of her special meetings and had to leave early to catch the train. I watched her walk up the driveway wearing a skirt far too short for a girl of her build, but as this was Zoe, my groin responded accordingly.

Walking into the bathroom to brush my teeth before leaving for work, I stopped short at what lay on the floor. Not her towel as usual, for once Zoe had hung this up to dry properly. It was a pair of her knickers, white full-brief panties with light blue leg and waist elastic lying near the shower.

I felt excited and a bit light-headed as my eyes took in Zoe's cotton panties. My heart pounded as I reached down and with trembling fingers, picked up her knickers from the floor. My conscience was sharply reprimanding me again, but I pushed it aside.

I held out Zoe's big white cotton panties and admired them, my cock rising rapidly. I could see the creamy stains in the double-cotton saddle and feeling the softness of Zoe's undies, raised them to my nose.

What I smelled was one of the best smells in my life. The wonderful, alluring, musty, feminine smell of Zoe's vagina. Finally, I had smelled the pussy of the girl I had had a crush on for the longest time. Also on the crotch were a few small yellow stains, the slightest splashes of urine. I smelled Zoe's dried pee drops and thought it was perfectly reasonable that she had minor piss stains on her panties. Zoe had given birth to two children, so obviously her bladder control might not be quite what it was when she was younger.

I fingered the stained saddle in my fingers then moved my nose to the back of Zoe's pants, smelling the place where her knickers would have gone between the fat cheeks of her over-sized bottom. I sniffed the back panel of Zoe's panties, and what she had said about her cloth toilet paper being superior to regular toilet paper I could believe given how clean she was back there. There was a slight smell of poo-poo where the panties would have made contact with her anus, but nothing significant.

With Zoe's panties in my hand, I wondered what to do with them. I wanted to go and put them in Zoe's dirty clothes hamper and check out her other soiled undies at the same time, but was worried that Zoe might have set this as a test to see if I could be trusted not to fool around with her knickers when alone in the house. Or maybe crazy Zoe just forgot to pick her dirty knickers up from the floor, perhaps the voices in her head were telling her to do something else at the time?

In the end, I put the panties back on the floor where I found them. Zoe would be back before me, and she could pick up her own smelly knickers from the bathroom floor when she went in there. The smell of Zoe's snatch on her panties stayed in my brain all day, causing me again to rise at inopportune times while at work. I could not concentrate, very dangerous for an electrician as one mistake could be the last I ever made. All I could see and smell all day were crazy fat Zoe's dirty white panties.

When I got home, the panties were gone from the bathroom floor and I got ready to go to the local gym for my spin class. As I was ready to leave, Zoe came up to me and said, "Where are you going?"

"To the gym, for a spin class," I replied.

"Oh," said Zoe. Then a smile crossed her pretty face. "Can I come with you, if I change quickly?"

"Sure, I'd love you too," I said.

"Just be a minute then," said Zoe, dashing to her bedroom and emerging wearing a tee-shirt, blue sweat pants and a pair of white sneakers. I drove to the gym, and Zoe and I took our places in the class, Zoe taking the stationary bike in front of me. The other people in the class were fit and slim like me, so the overweight Zoe stood out a bit. Some of the other members of the class looked at her as though they knew her from somewhere, but nobody asked her if she was Zoe Xavier, the once-famous Australian tennis player.

When the spin class commenced, I learned two things. One, it was a bad idea for me to take the bike behind Zoe, as the sight of her fat bum in her sweat pants and her panties showing at the top made it hard to stop getting an erection. Two, despite Zoe having never done a spin class before and me doing them regularly, Zoe was better at it than me.

Although overweight and out of shape, Zoe had no trouble following the instructions given and keeping up, in fact she was probably the best in the class. Perhaps within Zoe's now chubby body still beat the heart of an international athlete? A feeling of inadequacy, a petty almost childish jealousy filled myself on the way home, and it only went away when Zoe went to take a shower to wash her sweaty body clean that I stopped being jealous, and concentrated about thinking about Zoe's fat nudity under my shower.

*

On Thursday morning, I awoke early to put a load of washing in the machine before work. I was just sorting out my clothes when I saw Zoe come out of her room and walk to the bathroom, barefoot and wearing an over-sized tee-shirt. This was great to me as I checked out Zoe's big tits pressing the front of her tee-shirt, the shape of her big bum noticeable at the back and her legs and bare feet exposed.

The bathroom door closed and locked, and soon there came the sound of Zoe's pee tinkling and splashing into the toilet bowl. There came a few seconds of quiet as Zoe presumably wiped her wet pussy clean of urine, then she farted loudly three times in succession. Zoe's third fart turned into a squelching noise and then there was a massive series of splashes as she defecated, her poo sounding like it was going everywhere in the toilet bowl. Again it was quiet presumably as Zoe wiped her bottom, then came another rush of poo from her bottom, then quiet and finally she made more splashing noises as she pooped again for the third time, this ending with another loud fart from Zoe.

This time all was quiet for a minute or so, then the toilet flushed and Zoe washed her hands, emerging from the bathroom. As Zoe passed by me, adjusting her panties through her tee-shirt she suddenly stopped noticing me for the first time.

I was about to start the washing machine, and Zoe stood looking at me, staring at me with her crazy blue eyes, half-laughing and half-annoyed.

"Hi Zoe," I said.

Zoe stared back at me. "Are you doing the washing, Sean?"

It seemed pretty fucking obvious, but I was not sarcastic in my response. "Yes, that's right."

Zoe looked at me, smiling a crazy smile and rolled her eyes. "Sean, how could you even think of doing laundry while I was sitting on the toilet going number twos?"

I couldn't see how my starting a load of washing while Zoe went to the toilet would be a problem, and asked. "Sorry Zoe, is there a problem?"

"Only that I'm running short on clean knickers, and I was going to ask you if I could put my panties in the wash with your clothes this morning," said Zoe. "I nearly missed the chance because you started while I was on the toilet doing my poo-poos."

"Sorry, but it's not too late if you want to ..." I began before Zoe cut me off.

"I'll just go and get my knickers -- I need to wash some of my bras too, don't do anything until I get back," said Zoe. She dashed on her bare feet to her bedroom and returned carrying a number of her cotton full-brief panties and four bras, and I thought how lucky these bras were covering Zoe's big tits all day as she put them in the machine.

Next Zoe put her knickers in with my clothes to get washed. She had several pairs of white knickers including the ones she had left on the bathroom floor yesterday, one pair of pink knickers, one white with blue floral print, one blue with lemon colored leg elastic, the lilac panties Zoe had been wearing on the day she moved in and another a novelty style pair of full-brief panties with cute cartoon animals on the print, similar to one of her cloth period pads in the box in the bathroom although I did not mention this to Zoe for obvious reasons.

One thing all Zoe's panties had in common aside from the fact that all were cotton full-brief panties was that they all had significant snatch stains on the double cotton saddles. I felt my erection rising as I saw the mess Zoe's vagina had made of every pair of her panties, big creamy colored stains. Zoe's cartoon animal panties were the most soiled, I could actually smell her vagina on these and the stains on the soiled saddle were hard. Zoe must have been turned on when she was wearing these to have creamed her cotton panties so much.
With Zoe's bras and knickers now in the washing machine and looking very much out of place with my clothes, I prepared to close the lid but Zoe stopped me. "Just one more pair," she said.

Zoe had no other knickers in her hands. "There isn't another pair," I pointed out.

"Yes there is, the ones I'm wearing now silly," Zoe laughed. "Now turn around Sean, don't you know it's not polite for guys to look at girls who are taking their knickers down?"

I obediently turned around, but could not resist the slightest peak as Zoe's panties reached her ankles, and the girl stepped out of them and picked them up. "You can turn around now Sean," said Zoe.

I was struggling to conceal a growing erection problem, and this was not helped by Zoe dangling the white panties with butterfly print design in her fingers before putting them into the machine with the rest of her underwear.

"Thanks Sean, that's a real help," said Zoe as I closed the lid and started the washing machine. Seeing Zoe return to her bedroom going commando, her bare bum and pussy now barely covered by a tee-shirt didn't help at all.

Walking like the time I pulled a muscle in my back in an attempt to conceal my throbbing erection, I made for the bathroom, closing and locking the door and lifted the lid and seat of the toilet to have a pee, but my erection was not going to cooperate.

I could smell the odor of Zoe's bowel movements lingering near the loo, but given the amount of time that had passed since Zoe had been to the toilet obviously the smell had dissipated somewhat. My eyes went to the blue wet bag hanging next to the toilet, and I could see that it was starting to bulge and was wondering when Zoe planned on cleaning it out and washing her reusable cloth toilet paper.

Zoe had been absolutely correct on one thing, the wet bag stopped any smells from the soiled contents within. Never once had I smelled any odors from the bag, despite the dirty cloths that Zoe placed inside it each time she went to the toilet. Zoe was right when she said that she went to the toilet a lot. And I was out most of the day, so she obviously went to the toilet during the day when I was at work.

I looked at Zoe's wet bag and not for the first time I touched the mysterious blue object, pondering what it looked like inside. My fingers went to the zip, again not for the first time. But while on the previous occasions I had lost my nerve, this time my trembling fingers opened the zip and I opened the bag to see what lay inside.

There may not have been any smells from outside the bag, but inside it was a very different story. The scent of stale urine was obvious, as was the overwhelming odor of poo. I looked in the bag at Zoe's used cloth toilet paper. To one side, a white cloth had no poo stains but a huge dried yellow urine stain where Zoe had wiped her pussy after a pee. Another square of towel, turquoise in color, was soaked with pee and obviously the one Zoe had used to dry her vagina during her last visit to the toilet.

Most of the other cloths were stained by Zoe's feces to some degree or another. Some were relatively small, for example a blue cloth with yellow and white flowers on it had brown skid marks all over it, but they looked no worse than those that might have appeared on Zoe's knickers had she been negligent in wiping her bottom after a bowel movement. A green cloth bore similar skid mark stains from its rendezvous with Zoe's bum.

Other cloths however, were absolutely soiled with smelly shit. Two white cloths with pink flowers were smeared in vast quantities of Zoe's poo, huge brown stains covering most of the surface of the squares of cut up towels. This poo looked fresh and damp, and I presumed that Zoe had used these squares on her most recent visit to the toilet about 10 minutes ago. A light blue cloth, a yellow cloth, a lilac cloth and another white cloth were likewise covered in my housemate's messy and smelly shit.

I looked at some of the other cloths. One of the towels Zoe had cut up to make cloth toilet paper was presumably a kids' towel, pink in color with cartoon fairies on it, and one of these cloths bore a dried yellow-brown poo stain that suggested that Zoe had been having loose bowel movements -- borderline diarrhea -- when she used it to wipe her anus. It covered the pink cloth and the white fairies in considerable quantities.

I then saw the blue cloth with the smiling orange sun cut from a beach towel I had looked at the other day. Now it was absolutely covered in Zoe's dried shit, massive smelly brown stains all over the cartoon sun. On this cloth, I could see that Zoe had eaten corn that is impossible for humans to fully digest, the evidence of this clear in Zoe's poo.

My head spinning and just not from the smells within the wet bag, I zipped it up again and replaced it on the hook. There were many more smelly, soiled cloths in there obscured from my view, but I wasn't about to put my hand into the bag to investigate further. I felt weak and trembling, unable to believe what I had just seen and my erection throbbed. Again, I felt bad about looking at Zoe's private things that were none of my business -- this time her shit-stained reusable toilet paper in the wet bag - but I finally could not hold out from looking in the bag. I wondered what the cloths would look like during Zoe's time of the month, but I guess I would have to wait another few weeks to see this for real.

I also pondered why I was so turned on by this. I knew Emily was totally opposed to using reusable toilet paper from what Zoe had said, but even if she did use this method to clean herself up when on the toilet there was no way I would go to her and Adam's house and make an excuse to go to the bathroom so I could open the wet bag and perve on her dirty reusable cloth toilet paper covered in Emily's piss, shit or menstrual blood. It wouldn't even occur to me, and wouldn't turn me on if I did it, even though Emily was a beautiful woman. So what was so different with Zoe? Why was I such a perve with her?

When I finally got my erection under control, I got some cereal for breakfast and Zoe, still barefoot but now dressed in a tee-shirt and skinny jeans that showed her considerable muffin top around her tummy, joined me. I heard the washing machine finish, and said to Zoe. "Okay, did you want to go and get your clothes out?"

Zoe shook her head. "No, it's all good. You do it."

"Are you sure, it's got your panties in there and I thought you might be uncomfortable ..."

Zoe laughed. "I think you're the uncomfortable one, Sean. They're just my knickers, they don't bite. You can get them out of the machine and hang them out, I don't mind."

"Are you sure? It's just that your knickers are personal and I didn't want to ..."

"It's perfectly fine Sean, you have my permission to handle my bras and my panties," Zoe assured me.

It felt strange, very strange hanging out bras and knickers on the line with my clothes and again I got hard, but was able to get it under control. In the morning, I got a call from Adam asking if I wanted to meet up for lunch. I had a job on the outskirts of the CBD, so my schedule was all clear and I arranged the time to meet Adam.

We made our way down busy Swanston Street which was bustling with people. We talked about the football as a means of avoiding the obvious topic we needed to discuss. We reached the Princes Bridge and crossed the river into Southbank, Melbourne's iconic Flinders Street Station directly across the Yarra, the sunlight reflecting off Melbourne's tallest buildings the Rialto on the northern side and the Eureka tower on the southern side where we walked.

Adam looked back at the Princes Bridge and used this to bring Zoe into the conversation. "Remember when Zoe threw up off that bridge and over the boat below?"

I laughed. "Yes, I remember that."

"How are things going with Zoe?" Adam asked. "Is she giving you any problems?"

"No, everything is okay," I said. "She did leave a wet towel on the floor one morning, but that's about it." I did not disclose to Adam that I had sniffed the towel his big sister had left on the floor but failed to smell her pussy, but had been successful at smelling her pussy on her dirty knickers left on the floor several days after this.

"You're lucky then," said Adam. "There's a couple of things I should have warned you about Zoe last week, but with everything the way it was I didn't want you to run to the hills."

I feigned ignorance. "What sort of things?"

Adam looked uncomfortable. "Well, over the last few years Zoe has picked up some unusual, alternate bathroom habits. I wish that she would try to help the environment in other ways, saving whales or something."

"You mean the blue wet bag hanging next to the toilet and the plastic container full of cut up towels that now sits on the toilet cistern?"

Adam blushed. "Yes, exactly that. Mate, I'm really sorry about that."

I shrugged casually. "It's really not a problem. What Zoe does when she goes to the toilet is entirely her own business. It's got nothing to do with me, I don't have any issues."

"There's also ..." Adam began.

"The red bag that only appears every four weeks?" I said. "Zoe already filled me in on that. Again, there's no problem it's entirely up to Zoe to manage that part of her life."

"Once more, sorry," said Adam, his face blushing as red as his hair. "But you seem pretty relaxed about it all."

I of course did not close to Adam that I had listened to Zoe on the toilet on several occasions, smelling the aftermath of her bowel movements after she finished. Nor did I say that I liked to listen to her take a shower. I also did not disclose that that very morning I had opened up Zoe's blue wet bag, looking at his fat sister's shitty, smelly reusable cloth toilet paper, nor did I tell him that I had been getting my rocks off perving at Zoe's reusable cloth sanitary napkins in the storage box awaiting his big sister's next period.

"I just um, leave Zoe in privacy to do what she needs to do," I said, knowing with some shame that how I behaved was hardly respecting Zoe's privacy, in fact the opposite.

"You're amazing that all this doesn't bother you," said Adam. "It drove Emily nuts, she couldn't handle it at all. She said it was dirty and unhygienic, and the kids were asking why Aunty Zoe had a container of cut up towels on the toilet cistern and what Aunty Zoe's blue bathroom bag they weren't allowed to touch was for. Emily won that battle, and she struggled with the red bag situation too but as that was only once every four weeks she would tolerate it, but only just. I didn't want to think about it at all, with Zoe being my sister. I mean, if had just been the bathroom issues we might have been able to work around them, but with everything else she did to drive Emily mad ... I can't thank you enough, taking Zoe off our hands. Just let me know though if Zoe starts giving you any trouble. You know how crazy she can be."

"So far, so good," I assured Adam. "So, how is Emily going?"

A smile came across Adam's face. "She's going around the house singing show tunes. She has been in such a good mood since Zoe left. If Emily continues this way, we'll have kid number three in nine months' time."

"That good?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," grinned Adam. "In fact, I'm actually getting a bit tired down below. Last night I got home and Emily had sent the kids to have dinner with her parents. Emily herself was on our bed, dressed up in her old Catholic school uniform -- the white blouse, the blue tie, the short blue tartan skirt, the white ankle socks and the black Mary-Jane shoes - her hair up in a pony-tail. I'd barely stepped inside the bedroom door and she was all over me. And in the last few days, Emily and I haven't once showered alone." Again Adam grinned and licked his lips.

"I'm glad things are going so well for you and Emily now," I said.

"Well is an understatement," said Adam. "I feel bad for you. Emily and I are so happy, and you're the one stuck with Zoe."

"It really is okay," I assured him, trying to sound casual. If Adam thought I was trying to sound casual, he would no doubt have thought that I was doing so because things weren't okay. But for me, things weren't just okay. They were more than okay.

Friday was relatively uneventful. Zoe this morning was dressed in short blue pajamas that really exposed her fat body, but I thought it was great, especially as the waist elastic in her pajama bottoms kept riding down to show her flowery white knickers.

I went to work, and when I returned at five I saw Zoe's bare feet dangling over the top of an armchair in the lounge, the television on. Zoe herself, still wearing her short pajamas, was lying backwards in the chair, watching television upside down.

"Um Zoe, is everything okay here?" I asked her uncertainly.

"Oh yes," she said in a dreamy way, her eyes flickering all over the room. "I just like to watch TV upside down, sometimes."

Zoe had reverted to her normal position sitting on the couch beside me to eat her dinner -- a large pizza, while I ate chicken salad. I had an apple for dessert, Zoe ice-cream. I looked at the chubby blonde as she sat barefoot on the couch eating. Tomorrow would mark a week since Zoe had moved in. What would the next week bring?

END OF CHAPTER 2 - TO BE CONTINUED
Log in or Sign up to continue reading!