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Soft Touch
Stories, Vol. 1
Hello, everyone…I’ve posted here before, under the name Lurk, but it’s been awhile. Lately, I’ve noticed a few posts that seemed…well, fictional, at best. So I got an idea. Instead of reading stories and wondering if they were true or not, I decided I’d write a post that was quite obviously fictional, but didn’t need to be constrained such that it looked halfway factual. This story will NOT be the in the vein of the usual Internet "nasty stories"; quite frankly, the human disrespect and depravity in most of them sicken me. It’s an altogether "softer" sort of story - hence my handle, Soft Touch. I may write more in the future, if people like this one. It ended up being rather longer than I expected, and I imagine many of you will probably think the interesting part to be rather short… All I’d say is give it a chance, and try to imagine, and appreciate the setting, and the insight into the mind of the main character. My experience has always been that the! more one can feel with the story, the more one will feel from it. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.


Plod, plod, plod. Kevin stomped up the small trail through the jungle, stripped to the waist and sweating profusely. It was slow going; however, he was making good time up the trail, and not much further along he passed two girls walking and chattering along side by side. He glanced at them as he walked by. They were both blonde, white, not bad-looking but not exceptional. From their voices and clothes, he guessed they were probably from one of the innumerable small California towns that HAD Travel had drawn from for this high school grad trip. One of them turned her head to look at him. Slightly flustered, he smiled at her. She smiled back, then turned to talk to her friend again. Kevin continued his journey up the path.
As he walked, he wondered what exactly the girl had seen as she looked at him, creating an image of himself in his head. A short guy, dark-haired, slim but broad-shouldered and fairly well-muscled. He did, after all, work out several times a week. Nothing to compete with most of these guys on the trip though. Built like trucks. The grad trip had a disproportionate number of high school athletes present. Gee, fancy that, he thought to himself sardonically. Arrogant jocks on a high school grad trip.
The trip… As he passed by another girl walking with her boyfriend, he glanced at the blue plastic identifying wristbands each wore, then at his own. Yeah. This trip. It had seemed like a much better idea when he had bought the reservation - go to Mexico, get plastered with three of his friends for a week, have a blast. Course, that had been before he discovered what a real hangover was like and had vowed never, but never, to drink again. And also before he’d discovered exactly how much he hated clubbing, which seemed to be the main form of entertainment here in Mexico. That realization had taken him exactly ten minutes the first night they’d been there, sitting in the club with earsplitting music, flashing lights, and absolutely no chance whatsoever to have a real conversation with these girls, to find out what they were like. Although, given the chance, he reflected, he might have had a hard time anyway. Like most nice guys, he was pretty shy around girls he didn’t know. Not only that, though, most of the girls on the trip just didn’t seem all that attractive to him - pretty enough, maybe, but the nice ones were mostly here with boyfriends, and most of the others struck him as lewd and superficial. Sometimes he wished he could find someone who seemed like a genuinely good and caring person, someone who seemed pure of soul. And even better if she was a little bit shy herself, so he didn’t feel intimidated.
Still, though, he mused, the trip had its moments. Playing frisbee on the beach, going banana-boating with some people from his high school he’d never really talked to before, shopping in the marketplaces of Mexico. And today, the cruise, snorkeling, and jungle hike. This was an awesome day, so far, though the snorkeling had been atrocious. But the hiking was awesome, and not an hour ago they’d stopped at a waterfall for some cliff-diving. He’d been the second person to climb up at take the plunge from an sixty-foot cliff, when most people were just diving from fifteen feet up or so. The exhilaration, and the fear - and not only that, but people from his high school he’d never even talked to before were cheering him on, and had congratulated him afterward. He supposed he was still shallow enough to think popularity, even if for a few minutes only, was an awesome feeling. And, he supposed, as far as girls were concerned, he could always dream about this one gorgeous gir! l he’d seen several on the trip. Blond hair, green eyes, slender as a wand. She was here, as far as he could tell, with a few friends, but unlike most of the girls on the trip, he’d never overheard her putting anyone down or cracking lewd jokes. She seemed to blush a lot, whatever that meant. Gorgeous girl.
Lost in his reverie, Kevin almost didn’t see the rest stop they were coming to until he nearly bumped into the back of a small building. He stopped and turned around to wait for his friends - he’d started out with them, but after awhile, the macho bullshit had started to get on his nerves, so he decided to enjoy the Mexican jungle on his own and told them he was going on ahead. After a few minutes, they came sauntering up the trail, and he rejoined them.
The stop at the rest stop was fairly brief. After this, they’d continue on to the beach where they’d eat lunch at a restaurant, then hang around until the cruise ship came to pick them up. Kevin talked with his friends for a bit, looking around at the other HAD Travellers along with them. To his surprise, he noticed the gorgeous girl sitting with her friends - he hadn’t known she was along on the cruise as well, since most of the kids on the trip hadn’t come.
Right before they left, he decided to pee here and avoid having to march another mile on a full bladder. He headed to the first foul-smelling building he’d seen earlier. This was to be, however, his first experience with a real Mexican "baño" - up until now, he’d only seen the bathrooms at the four-star hotels they were in, and at the clubs, both of which locales were almost spotlessly kept.
There were four little flimsy half-doors on the ramshackle structure, two marked "Hombres" and two marked "Damas," each leading into a tiny cubicle. He noted with disappointment that the two marked "Damas" were empty; given the nature of the bathrooms, it would’ve been pretty easy to hear whatever was going on in those stalls. That was another thing about him - he’d always found the idea of girls using restrooms exciting. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but just the idea of these mysterious, beautiful creatures being subject to the indignity and crudity of having to relieve themselves - well, he just found it arousing. Especially bowel movements. Ah, well. He opened the door of one of the "Hombres" stalls.
The acrid stink nearly knocked him out. Not only did the toilet not have a seat - that was fairly bad, but he might have expected that given the appearance of the building - it didn’t have a flush. It was just a toilet bowl, and very well used from the smell, though at least there wasn’t anything brown in it. Good thing, he decided, that he didn’t have to take a dump. "Thank goodness for small favors," he muttered as he took down the front of his bathing suit and pissed.
On his way out, he looked into both of the girls’ stalls again, more deeply this time. One of the toilets, he noticed, had an utterly massive load of soft feces sitting in it. Someone, he decided, must have been truly desperate to have to use that bathroom in that condition, and the present state of the toilet seemed to confirm that. He thought briefly of what it would have been like to be in the next stall, hearing some girl relieve herself like that… Aaah, fantasies, he thought.
As he started out on the march, he noticed the girl getting up from her table and heading to the bathrooms. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her head into the second, more disgusting stall, the first being occupied. She opened the door, looked down slightly, and turned around again, heading back to her seat with a somewhat preoccupied look on her face. Kevin didn’t blame her.
The march proved uneventful, and soon he was eating chicken fajitas with his friends in the partially covered, open-air restaurant and looking out at the waves. Really bad chicken fajitas, too, he thought, making a joke about geriatric fowl. Still, he was hungry, so he ate as much as he could.
Half an hour later, he decided to put that up on his list of memorable bad ideas. The chicken apparently wasn’t very fond of its accommodations and wanted to check out early. He looked at the bathrooms, but while they looked a little better than before, the difference wasn’t really something he wanted to trust his weight to, in any sense of the word. At least it was a real building this time. His friends went to play around on the beach while Kevin remained seated and tried to calm his innards down. However, after about ten minutes, it became apparent that that was not going to be an option. It was going to be the bathroom or the jungle, and after a few more seconds of decision, the bathroom won out.
He headed over to the doors and spent an agonizing two minutes waiting for the previous occupant. Luckily, however, no one else seemed to have been affected by the poisonous bird, and when the guy inside finished his pee and walked out, Kevin rushed inside and locked the door.
He looked around the room. Urinal trough on the wall facing the door, with a toilet opposite. Without a seat. Kevin cursed silently to himself and stood there for a few seconds, until his bowels began to remind him of their existence, very loudly. It did have a flush this time, so that was something to be thankful for, he supposed. He locked the door, walked over to the seat, and took down his bathing suit.
Suddenly, he heard a sigh, and the sound of a very full bladder being emptied into a bowl. Startled, he looked around…and then noticed something. The wall separating this room from the girls’ room only went about five-sixths of the way up the wall, providing a perfect aural pathway between this room and the next. Kevin felt himself getting very aroused. The mammoth pee went on. It sounded very loud, for a girl, so he figured that the girls’ toilet probably lacked a seat as well. After the pee stopped, he listened intently, his situation momentarily forgotten…was he really going to be treated to this?
He heard the sound of toilet paper being torn off and used. Oh well, he thought, better than nothing, as his mind returned to the dilemma at hand. The increased dilemma, because now he had to deal with his own embarassment at being heard… No hepatitis for me, thanks, he thought as he squatted over the bowl, careful not to bend too far. As he maneuvered into position, he realized that to do this without making a mess, he’d have to be looking down the entire time. For an anxious moment he hung there in consternation, thinking of the both the girl in the other room and his own vision. Then he thought, to hell with it, and cut loose, watching himself, and hearing himself, blast out some very soft feces into the bowl.
As he hung there for a bit with his stomach churning, he heard the other girl open the door and walk out. And a release of breath as someone else rushed in the door, "Finally!" Wait a minute, he knew that voice… It was that girl! He’d heard her name once, what was it? Maureen? That was it. What a pretty voice she had… He heard her rush across the room, the door slamming behind her, and begin to remove the one-piece, cut-around-the-navel suit he’d seen her wearing. Then she gasped. "Oh, no…" Kevin, his excitement building, guessed that she had probably just looked down to see the condition of the toilet.
A few more moments passed. Then he heard her moan slightly, and remove the rest of her suit. He heard her maneuvering into position, his heart beating rapidly. Unfortunately, his body picked that moment to release a blast of gas and a bit of diarrhea, echoing around the room. His face burned.
He heard her stop. A few more moments passed in tension. Then he heard her voice, quavering.
"Are you…are you going to be much longer, do you think?"
Was she talking to him? Of course, who else would she be talking to? He was utterly and totally embarrassed. Here he was, helpless, and she was asking him if he would be done soon. "Yeah, um, probably…"
He heard her, across the room, whispering softly to herself, "Oh, dammit, I have to go so bad, that other bathroom…" And he realized, in a flash, that she was just as embarrassed as him, probably more. And that her predicament was probably much worse than his, since he’d seen her abortive use of the other bathroom more than an hour ago. She wanted to wait until he finished, but, unfortunately, that would be awhile.
A few more moments. Kevin felt himself harden until he was as stiff as a board. Then her voice again.
"Oh, hell…" BRRAAFFFTP. The sound of a small splash. She took a breath, obviously nervous. BRRRRRAAAFFTPRRRBRAAFPTPTFFPBRRAAFFFFFFF, and more splashing, and more. The briefest of silences. FFRRBRRFTPRAARFFPT - and the sound of the unlocked girls’ room door opening.
Kevin heard another splash simultaneous with Maureen’s yelp. "I’m, I’m in here…" he heard her say in a trembling voice. A moment of silence, then a small expression of gas - FFFFRR, a whimper, and a splash. "Yeah," said the other voice, "I can see that." A small chuckle, and the door closed again.
It was silent again, briefly. Then Maureen whimpered again, and this time… FFFFRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPBRAAPFFPTFPTFPBRRRPPBRRPPBRPPPPFRAAAAAPPPTF. A huge burst of crackling, and gas, and splashing, and more splashing, and more. It went on for perhaps ten seconds. Then, BRFRRRPPPTT, and a small splash, and there was silence.
Kevin’s stomach seemed to be calming down, but he still wasn’t quite done, and, figuring, after that display, he couldn’t be too ashamed, he made a few noises of his own. Then, for awhile, there was nothing but the sound of breathing.
Suddenly, from the other side, a noise a little bit like a stomach rumbling, and a grunt and a huge blast of gas, tapering off into a hiss -BRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPHHSSSSSSSS. Another blast. BRAAAAAAAP. Another. BRAAAAAP. Another, shorter. BRAAP. Then he heard another moan, "Ohhhh….", and she began to pee, tinkling into the bowl - now rather full, Kevin imagined. By this time, he was finished, but didn’t dare move. While the pee was still going on, he heard her, "Unnnhh," and a few splashes. The tinkling slowly tapered to silence. A beat. Then, that stomach-rumbling noise again, and finally one last push. A muted "Mmmmm-" and BRAAAPAPAPFFFSSHSPPPBRAAP, and a splash into the bowl, and a sigh of relief. Muted breathing for a few seconds.
Then, almost a cry, "Oh, no!" Kevin, more excited now than ever in his life, froze. What was wrong? He heard nothing but breathing for a moment, then her voice, again, almost crying, "Do you…is there any toilet paper on that side?" He started, suddenly remembering that he was a presence here - he’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t just a spectator in this situation. He looked at his own, nearly full roll of paper. "Uh, yeah. Lots." "Do you think…do you think you could throw some over?"
He blushed. "Um, yeah, uh, here, lemme just tear some off for myself…" He grabbed the roll off the hanger - luckily, it could be unfastened. Then he tore off a good deal for himself, and arced the roll over the top of the wall. "Thank you…thanks so much." Jolted back to the present, he set to work with the toilet paper himself, and faintly heard her doing the same. He finished up and flushed, and began washing his hands, while he counted about ten wipes from the other side, and then two flushes.
Afterward, he walked over to the door and grabbed the handle, and then blushed furiously. It had just occurred to him that he would probably have to face this girl as they both walked out of the bathroom. He hesitated for a second, then thought, Oh, well, and opened the door and walked out.
Just in time to see the girl doing the same thing. For a second, as they let the doors close, their eyes met. Maureen smiled faintly, and blushed, a bright, bright red, and turned away, and Kevin, a split second later, overcome by embarrassment, did the same. They began to walk on.
Then, suddenly, moved by some hidden, faint reserve of courage deep within him, Kevin looked up. He looked at her, and he said, "Oh my God…that was the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me."
She looked up, briefly, then down again, and said, "Yeah…yeah…that was so bad…"
"Yeah. It really was." A beat. "But I guess it could’ve been worse."
She looked up again, and looked at him. "How’s that?"
"Well, the same thing happened to a friend of mine while we were on a fishing trip…"
"He got walked in on?"
"No! No, he just got sick," Kevin said, "but the boat didn’t have a bathroom. It was the worst thing. Eventually he just had to jump overboard."
Her eyes widened, slightly. "That’s terrible."
"Yeah, it was, really," Kevin said, smiling. "We couldn’t catch a thing all day." She laughed, just a little bit, and Kevin did too. They made eye contact again, both smiling, and suddenly Kevin had the feeling that she was looking at him, really looking at him. It was a strange feeling…yet somehow awesome.
"So…what’s your name?" As if he didn’t know already, but he resisted the suicidal tendency to reveal that fact.
"I’m Maureen…what’s yours?"
"Maureen…what a cool name! I’m Kevin."
"Hello, Kevin."
They both smiled again.
"So, where are you from…" And both continued walking, down, towards the beach. And, just maybe, towards something else as well.