I Pooped While Having an Orgasm

​This article was written by Elizabeth Ayers-Callahan and repurposed with permission from YourTango.

Once upon a time, I took a shit while I was having sex. Yes, that's a thing that can happen. No, we weren't doing anal. It was just regular old vaginal sex

Here's what went down:

I hadn't been dating Chris long, but I was totally into him, and we were already pros in bed together. We had the kind of relationship where we basically skipped over the "bad at sex" phase, tore each other's clothes off, and had tons of orgasms. That was us. Instantly together.

We'd been out drinking and it was probably 3 a.m. when we got to my apartment. Chris got that look in his eye, and even though I was tired, I jumped him. 

Maybe I was too relaxed. Maybe I was still a little drunk. Regardless, I had an orgasm pretty fast.

By the time he was ready to finish, I started to feel like I needed to go to the bathroom, but I figured we'd be done soon. Then, out of nowhere, he did some sort of fancy sex move that hit my G-spot. BAM! I was having another orgasm—a big one.

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Then, I felt something weird that instantly sobered me up. I had shit myself having an orgasm.

While you absorb the horror of what had happened to me, I want to tell you about Chris.

I really liked him. 

In fact, I was starting to think that he was going to be the one. He was funny, but not in that way that demands the spotlight. He was smart, understated, had a totally bizarre sense of style, and had a pretty good-sized penis. More importantly, he knew how to use it.

He was also nice to my parents, the owner of a mangled rescue cat who was missing a leg (and had six toes on one of her other feet), and knew how to change the oil in his car.

This was literally the LAST guy I wanted to take a shit on during sex. 

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It was my apartment, so I could tell him to leave. I would lie down in my own little mess (it was just a little bit, really), and then tell him I had an early morning.

When I implied that I wanted him to leave, he looked hurt. But I knew I had to be tough. I had to be like the kid in Old Yeller and sacrifice the one I liked the most. It was for the best.

"Yeah, you just gotta leave," I told him.

He looked crushed. There's no better way to describe it. 

"Do you have another guy coming over or something?" he tried to joke, but I could tell he was sort of serious.

"No, just... I want to be alone," I said.

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"Well, that sucks," he said, and started to get dressed.

That's when I started crying. I was tired, still a little drunk, and I could see that I was about to risk losing the guy I really liked because I'd shit myself during sex. There was no way out. I had to tell him.

"Chris!" I yelled, as he was about to hit the door, still covering my mess with my own butt. He peered around the corner. 

"I have to tell you something disgusting, and you're going to hate me and never get a boner for me again," I said.

He sat down warily, and I told him all of it. And he laughed. 

And like a gentleman, he left. At least he knew I still liked him. 

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