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1. Constipation:

My stools have become dry again these past two days. I sat on the toilet for ages without passing anything.

My anus was both painful and burning. I reached down to touch it, and the opening was stretched wide and round, with a piece of dry stool sticking out at the tip but not coming out. Completely exhausted, I tore off a piece of toilet paper, wiped myself hastily, and pulled up my pants. Walking to school, I felt a pang of sadness: my husband has been dead for over two years, and I've been alone in this empty house every day. The thing I dread most is going home, but where else can I go? At least at home I can release some of my emotions. There are his books and DVDs at home; watching those lewd scenes and obscene content helps me temporarily forget some of my misfortune. Maybe it's because I've been masturbating for too long these past few days that my stool is so dry. Anyway, I'm used to it. The more I can't poop, the stronger my libido becomes. It's like the bloated stool in my large intestine is a man's penis pressing against my anus, and the rubber penis is thrusting in from both ends, giving me wave after wave of orgasms. Accompanied by the loud moans of those slutty women in the DVDs, I squirt out my juices again and again. The sheets and underwear get damp and dry, dry and then damp again. The first thing I do every morning is to air out the blankets, but those damp patches no longer have the man's semen stains.
Lost in these thoughts, I went to school, finished my classes, and suddenly my stomach started hurting again. Maybe this time I can poop? I grabbed some toilet paper and hurried into the restroom. I pulled down my pants on a squat toilet, eagerly awaiting the relief of defecating. But I was disappointed again; the hard, dry stool refused to come out, causing even more pain. As I groaned and gasped, struggling with the stool, the toilet door suddenly opened, and a voluptuous, beautiful girl rushed in. Judging from her impatient manner, I knew she must have been holding it in for a long time. Sure enough, after a rustling of clothes, I heard the cheerful sound of stool gushing from her anus and falling into the toilet bowl, followed by the rapid splashing of urine against the tiled walls. The girl let out a satisfied sigh. Hearing this series of smooth sounds, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

A sharp pain then struck my anus again; I was terrified of tearing it. At that moment, I was willing to pay any price just to relieve myself.

"Teacher, what's wrong? Are you constipated?" The girl was standing in front of me, asking with concern.

I struggled to lift my head, gave her an awkward smile, and nodded haphazardly.

"Then you should be careful. Drink plenty of water, eat more fruits and vegetables, and if it really doesn't work, take some laxatives."

"How do you know so much?" I couldn't help but become interested in this child.

"My mom has this problem too. Sometimes she'll hold it in until her face turns blue, but she still can't poop. A few times she had to use her hands to get it out."

The thought of that scene made me feel a little disgusted. "Teacher, it's okay. Maybe you haven't been sleeping well these past few days, and you're feeling a bit stressed?" Suddenly, I felt embarrassed by our situation—a teacher squatting there naked from the waist down, and a student talking about poop in front of you. "Go to class, I'll be done in a bit." I wanted her to leave quickly.

"It's alright, this is a self-study period. I'll talk to you, maybe you'll get it out if you're distracted for a moment." Whether she didn't understand me or was just being enthusiastic, the girl still didn't want to leave.

In my desperation and pain, I suddenly pushed my stomach out, and the hard, dry stool actually came out.
"Ouch, teacher, you're bleeding!" she cried out in alarm. I looked down and, sure enough, there was some fresh red on the dark brown stool. At that moment, I felt a tearing sensation in my anus, and instinctively reached down to touch it; my hand was covered in blood.

"Let me see." Without a word, she stood up and pressed her arm against my back, forcing me to raise my buttocks. "It's okay, it's only a little tear." As she spoke, she took out some paper and gently wiped my anus.
"No... don't do this, I..." I didn't know what to do or say. This position made me so ashamed that I couldn't speak coherently.

She continued working on my anus, pressing the paper against the wound to stop the bleeding. After a while, I heard her say happily, "It's okay, the bleeding has stopped." Then she threw a blood-stained piece of toilet paper into the toilet bowl.
"Thank you." I finally stood up and hurriedly pulled up my pants. Because I knew that the blood on my anus had dried, but my vagina was already slightly moist.

II. Staying overnight

and returning home.

The house was quiet, cold, and filled with a desolate atmosphere. I lay half-reclined on the bed, watching a pornographic DVD. Three enormous men were simultaneously raping a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl. Although still underage, she was shockingly voluptuous, her breasts almost as large as mine, but her lewdness was beyond my reach. She sat on one of the men, a thick, long penis inserted into her vagina, while she clutched two others in her hands, occasionally turning her head to swallow one of them, emitting cloying moans and gasps.

One of the men, perhaps feeling he was hard enough, patted the girl's head. She understood and rolled over, facing the man who was penetrating her, swallowing his penis into her vagina again, lying prone with her buttocks raised, waiting. The second man knelt down and slowly inserted his erect penis into the girl's anus. The girl screamed, whether from pleasure or pain, I couldn't tell. I instinctively reached for my own anus; a small scab had formed at the site of the tear. At that moment, the two men began thrusting simultaneously, the girl's face clearly showing a dazed expression, and she screamed even louder. The third man went around to the front and shoved his slightly limp penis into the girl's mouth again, eliciting only muffled moans from her.

The third man's penis finally became erect, and to my astonishment, he straddled the girl's buttocks, squatted slightly, and inserted his penis into her anus. Good heavens, I couldn't believe my eyes. How old was this girl? Even an adult woman's anus couldn't possibly accommodate two such large penises. After inserting, the third man bent his body at a ninety-degree angle, his buttocks raised high towards the second man, and carefully pumped in and out with him. His penis would likely slip out if he wasn't careful. The girl's cries were filled with misery; any woman would probably find it uncomfortable to have two penises inserted into her anus.

The camera finally focused on the girl's lower body, which had been filled with copious amounts of semen from the three men, the two gaping holes, especially the almost deformed anus, which gave me a tremendous stimulation. I knew that tonight would be spent in a frenzy of masturbation.

"Knock, knock, knock," someone knocked on the door. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was past nine. Who could it be so late? Having grown accustomed to living alone, I'd become bolder, but this time still made me a little scared.
"Who is it?" I asked softly, facing the door.

"It's me, teacher," a still somewhat childish voice replied. It sounded familiar… yes, it was the girl I'd been with in the bathroom earlier that day. How did she know my house, and why was she here at this hour?
When I opened the door, that familiar face came into view. It really was her, carrying a schoolbag.

"Why are you here? Do you know my house? Is there something you need?" I asked three questions in quick succession.
"Well, I just finished evening self-study. I brought you some medicine; see if it makes you feel better." She unzipped her schoolbag and took out two packets of "Guodao" (a traditional Chinese medicine).

"Come in, come in. I'll take you home later." Touched by her enthusiasm, I invited her inside. She came in gracefully and placed her schoolbag on the small cabinet by the door. I was busy pouring her tea, and she was right next to me explaining how to take the medicine.

When I pulled her to sit down on the sofa, I took a closer look at her for the first time. Her face was full and round, fleshy, with slightly upturned eyes that gave her a unique, alluring charm; her shoulders were broader than most girls', but not unattractive, and her breasts were well-developed, pushing her t-shirt high; she wore a pair of suit shorts, and the inner thighs were as white as jade, tempting me to touch them. Suddenly, her face overlapped with the face of the foreign girl in the DVD I had just watched—they looked so alike, and a surge of heat rose within me. Seeing me looking at her, she seemed a little embarrassed and asked, "Teacher, isn't your husband home?" My face immediately darkened. She was startled and hurriedly asked, "What's wrong, teacher? Did I say something wrong?" Seeing her frightened look, I sighed, "He... he's been gone for over two years." "Teacher, I don't know, I really don't know, you... you mustn't..." "Silly child, I won't blame you. Never mind, let's not talk about him. Let me get you another glass of water."

She stayed in my house for about an hour. I learned that she was a high school sophomore named Kexin. Her father had died, and her mother had remarried, taking her with her. She lived with her stepfather, but she didn't like him. I felt there was more to the story, but it wasn't convenient to ask now. It

was past ten o'clock, and I felt she had to go back, but I had really grown fond of this pretty girl. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since anyone had chatted with me at night, but I really didn't want her to leave. She seemed to sense my thoughts and cautiously asked me, "Teacher, it's too late today, and I don't have any buses back. How about I stay here for the night?" Hearing her say that, I actually felt it was perfectly reasonable, but I still wanted her to call home. She said that she had done this many times before, and it would be fine as long as she mentioned it when she got home the next day. I took out my pajamas and asked her to change, so she slept at my place.

III. Late Night Talk

We went to bed at 10:30. She was wearing my pajamas, which fit perfectly, but because her breasts were so full, the neckline was stretched wide, revealing her black bra through the buttonholes—it looked incredibly sexy.

Although she wasn't yet an adult, I felt she knew a lot. Whenever I felt an awkward silence, she could naturally steer the conversation to another topic. At first, I was a little reserved, but under her influence, I quickly poured out everything I had been suppressing. I told her how I met my husband, fell in love, got married, how we spent several years as a couple, how he was in a car accident and left me when we were planning to have children, and how I had endured the pain and troubles of the past two years. Strangely, while recounting these past events, I didn't feel sad. Perhaps it was because there was someone else beside me, or perhaps it was because the pent-up emotions of the day were being released; I was actually absorbed in the endless narration.

This girl, however, was more interested in the details. She asked me if he had sent me flowers when we were dating, what it felt like to be kissed for the first time, how I felt when I got married, and what I was still dissatisfied with in our relationship. Some of the questions made me shy, but under her undeniable allure, I poured everything out to her. As we talked, a passionate atmosphere gradually developed.
I finally finished speaking and fell silent. She reached out and put her arm around my shoulder, slowly turning me towards her, pressing her face against mine. I felt touched, as if I had found support again. Hearing her slightly rough voice, I felt as if I were leaning on my husband.

Her grip tightened, but for some reason, I didn't feel any aversion. My head slid down, resting my face against her full breasts. The scent of her youthful body seemed to transport me back to that era.

Suddenly, her hand tightened, and I was startled. She whispered in my ear, "Teacher, would you like to hear my story?" I looked up in confusion. What story could a seventeen-year-old girl have? Her voice turned low, and a resentful glint appeared in her eyes. Only then did I realize that she truly had a unique and unusual experience.

"My biological father isn't actually dead. My mother and he are divorced. The reason for the divorce is... because he slept with me. During the summer vacation when I had just started high school, he had sex with me three times on the living room floor. The last time he ejaculated, my mother just walked in. He ejaculated on my face every time. When my mother saw me, my face was covered in my own father's semen."

I was truly stunned. I never expected this child to have such a painful experience, but for some reason, I didn't sense any resentment towards her father in her voice.

“My mom divorced my dad the very next day, but unexpectedly, she quickly married this man. This man is much worse than my father; he's average-looking and doesn't earn much money. I really don't know what my mom was thinking. Was she bewitched? In the second month of their marriage, he actually raped me. What's worse, he raped me in front of my mom. I cried and screamed, but my mom was like she was dead, deaf, and blind, not moving at all. Finally…”

She suddenly stopped and began to sob softly. I turned around and hugged her, stroking her face, but I didn't know what to say. She cried for a while, then nestled in my arms and whispered, "Actually, I wasn't a virgin before my dad took me. My mom took my virginity. She's bisexual, and she often talked to me about these things after I became aware of them. Until one day, she couldn't resist anymore, and neither could I, so she took my virginity. My dad is very handsome. He hates my mom's sexual desires, but because he's often away on business, he can't prevent it. But he never expected my mom to do it to me. By the time he found out, I was already completely immersed in it. He brutally raped me that day because he wanted me to know that a woman can only find true pleasure and become a real woman by having sex with a man. Although I wasn't a virgin anymore, it was still my first time being with a man, and the feeling was definitely much happier and more intoxicating than having sex with my mom. One of the reasons my mom divorced my dad was because she was afraid I would leave her or even reject her. Before I could even understand it, my mom left my dad and remarried, taking me with her."

"Do you hate your dad?" I asked softly, stroking her cheek.

“No, I’ve never hated him. Actually, I was the one who initiated it that time. I’ve always admired my dad since I was little, and I’ve always dreamed of finding someone like him. If my mom hadn’t… I probably would have given my virginity to him too.” I didn’t expect this child to say such a thing. “Do you still keep in touch with your dad?” I asked her cautiously.

“I’m keeping it from my mom. Actually, I go to my dad’s every month. Only there do I feel like a woman.” She said quietly.

“But you’re father and daughter after all. How could that last long?” I was somewhat incredulous.
“Teacher, if you met my dad, you would definitely like him too. He’s really handsome and very manly.”

“This child, I didn’t say I was going to meet him. I just think your relationship is too…” I didn’t know how to say it.

“Too dirty, too disgusting, it’s perverted incest, is that what you’re talking about, teacher?” She spoke rapidly, her voice rising.

"No, no, I... I mean... how can you make sure people don't suspect anything, how can you... how can you cover your tracks..." I was rambling incoherently.

“My dad’s place is very remote, there aren’t many neighbors, and, every time he and I… he would…” She suddenly became hesitant. “What would happen? Tell me quickly.” I asked eagerly, my excitement growing. “He would put my underwear, um, in my mouth, so I wouldn’t make any 'wife' sounds.” God, so that’s how it is, I was even more surprised. “Don’t you feel uncomfortable?” I wondered what it would feel like to have my own underwear stuffed in my mouth during sex. "What's wrong with that? As long as you love someone, they'll be happy doing anything for you. I've never felt uncomfortable. In fact, this feeling of wanting to scream but not being able to actually make me more excited, and I reach orgasm faster. However, my dad always uses my underwear. Sometimes I really want to put my underwear in my mouth, but he refuses. He always says that girls are the purest creatures in the world, and for a man to enter a girl's body is already a desecration. How can he put something so dirty in their mouths? It's simply a waste, something only a bastard would do." I never expected her father to be so considerate towards women. I daydreamed, and involuntarily felt a mixture of envy and jealousy towards the girl in my arms. My jerk never said anything like that. He would often just fall asleep after we were done, completely ignoring how the woman felt. This man, although her father, was definitely a model man. I couldn't help but hug her even tighter.

IV. Trying

"Teacher, have you... done that in the last two years?" She finally asked the question I wanted her to ask.
"Which one? What did you say?" I pretended to be confused.

"You mean with men, you know, hehe." She looked at my face and giggled.

"Come on, I don't have a good father like you, who would I do that with?" I lightly slapped her face.
"Have you thought about it? You're so young and sexy, surely some men will come after you?" She became more explicit.

If she were a normal student, I would have scolded her, but she was an experienced girl. In front of her, she understood all the feelings of a woman very well, so lying was pointless. "I don't know why, but for the past two years, I haven't dared to get close to men. It would be a lie to say I don't want to do that, but I just can't get interested in men. I'd rather... take care of it myself."

She smiled brightly, so beautiful. I felt this girl's attraction to me growing stronger. "Sister, how do you do it, masturbation or with a toy?" She asked very professionally, and without realizing it, she stopped calling me teacher and started calling me sister. I didn't find it abrupt; on the contrary, I felt more natural with her calling me that.

“I don’t have any devices, at most I use a pen or something to insert. I’d like to buy some, but I never dare.” Once, I mustered up the courage to walk into a sex shop, but as soon as the owner spoke, I was so ashamed that I ran out immediately, and I never thought of buying those things again.

“Sister, you must have a lot of experience with masturbation, right? When you masturbate, do you look at things or fantasize?” she asked more probingly.

I couldn’t help but glance at the TV cabinet; the disc was still there, and I thought of that foreign girl who was raped by three men at the same time. “I look at books or watch DVDs. When he was alive, he would make me masturbate for him. Back then, I liked to fantasize. After he left, my mind was often blank; I didn’t want to think about anything. Only words and images could arouse my sexual desire. You haven’t experienced something like that, so it’s hard to imagine what I felt.” I sighed and lowered my head.

She suddenly sat up, pressed herself against me, cupped my face in her hands, looked at me with burning eyes, and said earnestly, "Sister, I want to make sure you're never sad again. I want to see you smile, to see you happy!"

Looking at her beautiful face and excited eyes, I could no longer suppress my passion. I grabbed her head and pressed my lips tightly against hers. If someone had told me yesterday that I would kiss a woman today, I would have thought they were crazy. I never imagined I would have feelings for someone of the same sex; the thought would have been unacceptable. But now, I was kissing a girl ten years younger than me without any sense of rejection. Perhaps I have a latent homosexual tendency within me.

We kissed passionately, our tongues intertwining in each other's mouths, sucking and swallowing each other's saliva like two parched souls who wouldn't waste a drop. When saliva dripped from the corners of our mouths, she would immediately lick it up, only to suck it dry again. In the midst of that wild, passionate kiss, I forgot she was a girl, and I forgot I was a woman. I just wanted this feeling to never end, to let me be forever lost in it.

I don't know when, but my nightgown had been removed, and my bra clasp was loosened. Kexin gently pushed me down, lifted my bra, and pushed my breasts together, then took turns sucking and licking my nipples, making loud, wanton, and seductive sounds, like eating delicious ice cream. Copious amounts of saliva flowed from her mouth, dripping onto my chest. I would pull her up from time to time and kiss her again. The pleasure on my nipples was no longer enough to satisfy my throbbing lust. I groaned and thrust my hips repeatedly, and she rode on top of me, rising and falling with my movements. If viewed from a distance, it looked like two people were having intercourse.
After licking my nipples enough, she slowly slid down my body, past my lower abdomen, past my navel, and to my mons pubis. She used her tongue to comb through my sparse pubic hair until it was glossy and all obediently bent upwards. Then, she used her tongue to separate my labia minora and teased my swollen clitoris along the vulva. Women truly understand women best. Kexin's tongue skillfully and precisely danced across each of my erogenous zones, continuously and intensely, making my lower body slick and wet. With the addition of her saliva, my buttocks were practically submerged in a puddle. Kexin's tongue quickly slid into my vagina, in and out, penetrating deeper and deeper. As it entered, her upper lip pressed against my clitoris, making me feel like a fish on a chopping board, constantly arching my back, only to fall back down in vain, until finally I suffocated…

For nearly a thousand days, no fleshy object had entered my vagina. Now, even though it was just a tongue, and a woman's tongue at that, my long-suppressed passion erupted uncontrollably. I never imagined I'd do this with a woman, but today I felt no aversion. I just hoped her tongue could take me to an even higher level, even if I died there, I would have no regrets.
"Sister, is it comfortable?" Kexin had climbed back up, holding me in her arms and whispering in my ear. She had also taken off her pajamas and bra, her two youthful, full breasts proudly thrusting forward, and I leaned between these two mountains of flesh. I nodded wearily, unable to utter a word. She gently stroked my face, occasionally kissing my cheek, giving me a sense of spiritual satisfaction after my orgasm. "Sister, you just had three or four orgasms, you must be very tired, go to sleep." She murmured in my ear, like hypnotic music, letting me drift off to sleep in peace and joy.

V. True Feelings

I woke up suddenly with a sharp abdominal pain, and without even putting on clothes, ran naked to the bathroom. But I was disappointed again. No matter how hard I tried, there was no response. The abdominal pain intensified, but it felt like a plug was stuck in my anus, refusing to let go. I started groaning loudly and massaged my lower abdomen vigorously, but it was still no use.

"Sister, is it still not working?" I was startled to hear Kexin's voice. Good heavens, I had completely forgotten that there was someone else at home.

After calming down a bit, I came to my senses. "Yes, sister, it's so uncomfortable," I said painfully. She brought me the medicine she had brought yesterday and poured me a glass of water. "Sister, take some medicine and see if it helps?" she said, handing me the water and medicine. I looked at it, swallowed it, and then waited for the medicine to work as if hoping for a miracle. But I waited for a long time, and there was no reaction. My stomach was still hurting terribly.

Seeing my pain, Kexin lifted my buttocks, just like yesterday, but this time I didn't struggle. She gently massaged my anus as before, tentatively inserting a finger, but it was too dry, and I writhed uncomfortably. A warm liquid dripped onto my anus, and with its lubrication, Kexin's finger finally slipped inside. "Sister, just bear with it," she said, bending her finger to remove a hard, dry lump of stool, at which point I cried out in pain. It was like a lid had been opened, and the stool gushed out. The medicine must have worked; this time it felt so good, I hadn't felt this good in a long time.

Kexin held my buttocks like that until I finished relieving myself. Only then did I realize she had been in that position the whole time. I turned to her and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sister, you're done. Go on, it stinks. Don't let the smell bother you." Kexin seemed not to hear me, still staring at my anus. "Sister, I scratched you again. Does it hurt?" I shook my head. She tore off a piece of toilet paper and wiped my anus, carefully cleaning the wound until it was completely clean. She threw the toilet paper into the toilet but still held onto it. Suddenly, I felt something warm and soft against my anus. By the time I realized it was her tongue, she had already licked the wound a few times. I wanted to stand up. How could I let her lick in such a dirty place? She pressed me down firmly. "Don't move, or the wound will reopen. Licking it a few more times will help it heal faster." As she spoke, she continued licking.

I was truly moved. Even my own husband probably wouldn't do this. And she had only met me yesterday, she was still my student, and now she was my closest person. A surge of emotion welled up inside me. I sat up abruptly, turned and hugged her tightly, pressing my lips to hers and kissing her passionately, capturing her tongue and sucking on it. "Kexin, Xin'er, my dear sister, older sister..." I murmured, unable to continue, tears streaming down my face, dripping onto hers. "Older sister, my dear older sister, I love you..." she murmured in response, licking away my tears with her tongue.

And so, two naked bodies embraced tightly, whispering words of love, tears of love streaming down their faces. If we had filmed it then, it would have been incredibly moving.

After a quick breakfast, we rushed to school. Thankfully, Kexin wasn't late. On the way, she said she wanted to stay with me all day. I wanted to too, but what if her family worried? I asked her to let me know when she got home at noon so I could be at ease. She reluctantly agreed. Seeing her distressed expression, I felt something was wrong, but there wasn't time to ask further.

At noon, I bought some good groceries, planning to cook at home in the afternoon for Kexin to enjoy a good meal. But I felt uneasy, remembering the sorrowful look in her eyes when I told her to go home this morning; it seemed she still had many secrets she hadn't told me. Actually, I didn't want to pry into anything; I just wanted her to tell me if she was willing, and if she wasn't, I wouldn't force her. A premonition told me that Kexin might have a lot of unspeakable pain, and I, as her "older sister," hoped I could do something for her.

After my afternoon nap, I started working. Thinking about the satisfied expression on Kexin's face as she ate the meal I had carefully prepared for her that evening, my heart was filled with tenderness. Although this child is developing very well, if she carries too many worries, it will still harm her health; she really needs some nourishment. I happily worked for more than two hours, and it was 5:30. She would be back soon. As I finished the last dish, I heard Kexin knocking on the door.
As soon as the door opened, Kexin rushed into my arms. Having not seen me for about ten hours, she was like a wronged child, hugging me and crying. I pulled her into the house, tenderly comforting her, licking away her tears. For some reason, tears welled up in my eyes too. My longing for her was no less than hers. Seeing me cry, she turned and hugged me tightly, pressing her lips to mine, her tongue prying open my teeth, probing deep into my mouth, entwining with mine. I sucked on her tongue, like a baby nursing. Her sweet saliva flowed into my mouth, and when it was full, I swallowed it with a "gulp." Her hands caressed my chest, quickly unbuttoning my clothes and reaching inside to knead my breasts, sometimes circling my areolas with her fingers, sometimes pinching my nipples and scraping the tips with the nail of another finger. Under this relentless assault, I quickly became breathless and utterly exhausted. But I knew she had class that evening, so I reluctantly pushed her away, took her hand, and led her to the dining table. Like a gentle wife, I served her rice, vegetables, and soup, watching her eat with relish. At that moment, I felt truly fulfilled and satisfied.

"Xin'er, is the food your sister cooked delicious?" I truly put myself in the wife's position and asked a question every woman would ask.

"Sister, I want you to feed me." She was, after all, a girl, and her answer was different from a man's, but her coquettish manner touched my heart.

"Don't be silly, you have class later. If you're hungry when you get back, I'll feed you, okay?" I said gently. "By the way, did you go home for lunch? You…" I really wanted her to stay with me that evening.
A shadow of sadness crossed her pretty face. She whispered, "I went home, and I told my family. I'll stay here with you these next few days." Seeing her pained expression, I knew something was wrong, but now wasn't the time to ask. Maybe she would tell me when we were in bed together.

After finishing her meal, Xin went to evening self-study. I finished my dinner using her bowl and chopsticks, and after cleaning up, I sat on the sofa watching TV while waiting for my "lover."

Six, Crazy.

Just after nine o'clock, Kexin returned. Seeing her come in, I

felt relieved; at least she could stay with me for the night. "Xin'er, want to take a shower?" I asked, noticing she looked a little tired.

"Sister, let's shower together," I readily agreed.

The weather was getting warmer, and after removing the few clothes we had, we walked naked into the bathroom. This was the first time I had seen her naked body. Her snow-white skin, rosy nipples, and jet-black pubic hair made me dizzy. Her breasts were full and firm, her buttocks round and upturned—even a woman would be aroused by her. Without thinking, I pressed her breast. She wasn't surprised or flinched; she just smiled gently at me, put her arm around my waist, and turned on the shower. Steam rose, creating a misty wall between us. I couldn't help but lean closer to her, as if afraid she would disappear in the haze.

We lathered each other with shower gel, scrubbing our bodies, thoroughly cleaning every crease that might harbor dirt. As we washed, Kexin and I kissed occasionally, our desire growing stronger, but neither of us wanted to spoil the warm atmosphere, focusing instead on cleaning each other. The only sound in the bathroom was the running water, but we could both hear the yearning cries in each other's hearts.

I turned off the tap, and Kexin hugged me from behind, breathing into my ear, making me feel ticklish and numb. I patted her bottom and said in a sweet voice, "Stop it, let's go to bed..." For some reason, my voice trembled slightly. "Sis, did you poop again today?" This girl suddenly asked a jarring question, but I really did feel a bit bloated in my lower abdomen. It had been like this for several days, and this morning was the only time I'd had a decent bowel movement. I just didn't know why she was asking me now. I said somewhat awkwardly, "We've already showered, let's forget it, we'll talk about it tomorrow." "No, sis, let's poop as much as we can now, so it won't be uncomfortable when we can't." She gave me a strange smile, "I just want to help you poop." It was then that I realized this child was a little abnormal in this respect; perhaps she was just trying to express her affection for me, I thought. "Okay, but I'll have to shower again." I sat down on the toilet with a sigh.

Kexin squatted beside me, gently massaging my lower abdomen with her hands. I looked at her tenderly, stroking her hair and face. Xin'er lifted my breast and suckled my nipple. "Swish...swish..." After a sound of water, she reached down and touched my pubic hair, then pulled her hand out. Her hand was covered in some of my urine, and her fingers shone brightly in the light. She first smelled it under her nose, and seeing me staring at her blankly, she smiled and put her hand under my nose. A faint, pungent smell filled my nostrils. I frowned. She withdrew her hand but put it in her mouth. Watching her lick it with relish, I couldn't help but laugh. "Silly boy, aren't you afraid of getting dirty? Don't do that." I tried to pull her fingers out. "Anything from my sister's body is the best. Sister, I love you to death." Kexin said, then reached her hand into my crotch and groped around. In this tender and affectionate moment, my second bowel movement of the day went smoothly, a true miracle for someone like me who suffers from chronic constipation. Lumps of formed stool fell into the toilet. Kexin's hand brushed past my labia and reached towards my anus, playfully blocking and releasing it at times. Sometimes, if a piece of stool was too long, she would break it with two fingers. I didn't say anything more, just lovingly embraced her, occasionally kissing her face and lips. A faint, unpleasant odor filled the bathroom, but within this unusual scent, a powerful arousal was clearly aroused. I could clearly feel a thin stream of fluid slowly seeping from my vagina.

"I'm done, let me get up and wash." As soon as the words left my mouth, I was startled by my own voice—a hoarse, climaxing voice, a frenzied, expectant murmur. God, this same-sex love had already captivated me.

Kexin's fingers were covered in my feces, but she still first smelled them, then tentatively stuck out her tongue and licked them. Thinking about what she had just said, I was moved to tears. This was her way of expressing love for me. Perhaps many people would see it as perverted or abnormal, but I felt her genuine affection and absolute attachment to me. How could I possibly criticize her? As long as she didn't leave me, I was willing to be with her forever, even if I didn't get worldly recognition, my life would not have been in vain.

I turned on the tap to wash my anus, and also washed Kexin's fingers clean. She playfully smeared them on my breasts and lower abdomen. I patted her while holding her hand and washing everything clean. When we finished, it was already 10:30. "Let's go, Xin'er, let's go to bed." I took her hand, and she looked at me excitedly and eagerly, nodding repeatedly.

That night was the first time I experienced what a crazy woman was like, what the highest realm a woman could reach was. Women without men can still create miracles of love; women without a man's penis can still reach the pinnacle of sexual pleasure. When Kexin straddled my buttocks, a cucumber connecting us, I could no longer control myself and cried out, "Xin'er, I can't live without you. As long as you don't leave me, I'm willing to do anything you want me to do. Please, don't leave me all alone." Kexin leaned down and grasped my breasts, whispering in my ear, "Sister, do you think I would leave you? Don't you believe in Xin'er's feelings for you? I am your shadow, your lifelong sex slave, your whore." Hearing Kexin's words, I turned around in surprise, but before I could speak, she began to thrust rapidly again. The intense friction overwhelmed me, leaving no room to think about what she had just said.

I don't know how much time passed, or how many orgasms we experienced, but in utter exhaustion, we fell into a deep sleep, embracing each other on the damp sheets. All I remember Kexin saying at the end was, "Sister, we'll be even happier in the future."

[Completed]

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