AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story contains watersports, scat (just pooping, not handling it directly) and mild humiliation -- if those aren't your thing, I suggest you leave now. If they are your thing, enjoy!
My best friend Lila starts squirming when we're about forty minutes away from our small college town, crossing her shapely legs and shifting in her seat. I'd know that movement anywhere -- she clearly has to pee, and it's making me distractingly hard.
But she doesn't seem to notice the effect her desperation is having on me. She just looks out the window at the lengthy expanses of flat empty land that seem to stretch on for miles, quietly singing along to the playlist I put together for the four hour drive from the music festival venue back to town.
"You want to take a pit stop?" I ask her after she shifts again.
"Hm? No, we're pretty close, aren't we?" She looks out the window again. "I can wait."
But she shifts again. Her denim skirt keeps hiking up higher and seeing all that smooth skin, even if she wasn't desperate, would have turned me on. But crossing the whole 'best friends since middle school' barrier with my crush feels like a bad move. I'd rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.
And besides, I know she's still a virgin at twenty-three. She deserves a guy who'll give her some nice vanilla sex for her first time and beyond. Everything about her look screams innocent from her wide brown eyes to her thick black hair, which she wears in a long braid down her back. I highly doubt she'd be into all my kinks.
We chat off and on about the songs that come on, only to be interrupted by my maps app telling us there's a new wreck ahead. Sure enough, traffic slows to a complete stop.
"Ah, fuck," I say, craning my neck to see what's going on. "I hope it's not long."
"Yeah, same."
But it is. We sit at a dead stop for at least ten minutes. I step outside of my SUV as many others are doing and see that a tractor trailer has flipped and is stretched right across the highway.
"It looks pretty fucking bad. A tractor trailer flipped and it's on its side across the road," I say when I get back inside.
"Oh my god, is anyone hurt?" Her eyes widen in concern.
"No, it doesn't look like it. Some cars ran off the road and I think they avoided getting crushed, but those are totaled too."
I buckle up again even though we likely won't be moving for a long time. We're still pretty remote despite being a half hour from town. There are fields of crops on both sides of the highway stretching out for miles and we passed the last exit at least five miles back.
Lila crosses her legs, sliding her hands between her thighs and jiggling an ankle.
"I really regret not taking that rest stop," she murmurs, her eyes filled with distress.
My cock starts to really ache and I feel like a fucking asshole. Lila's modest -- a response to her weirdly strict parents -- and I know she's probably mortified right now.
"There are empty containers back there." I nod towards the back, where I've laid down the seats. Our festival gear is lined up on one side, along with empty containers that we brought some weed brownies and other snacks in. Aside from that, the space is pretty empty. "If you get to that point."
"I would, but um...it's both." She squeezes her thighs together and rests her head on the window.
"Oh."
I adjust in my seat to mask my boner. Seeing her desperate to pee is hot, but to shit too? This would be an amazing fantasy, but now I'm torn between wanting to help her and wanting things to fall apart for my own satisfaction.
We sit in tense silence for another few minutes before she swears, which she doesn't often do. She hunches forward, her thighs trembling.