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To be frank, Cara loved to poop. Each day, she looked forward to that time, usually about 2:30pm, when she would get the sudden tension in her sphincter, that slight pressure that let her know she had to go. But Cara didnít rush it. There was no mad dash to the bathroom. She sat tight. Sometimes for an hour or more. She answered the phone, and filled out her daily HR reports. If she was feeling especially sassy, she flexed her anus, walked to the kitchen area, and poured a cup of coffee with practiced nonchalance. It was a battle of wills that did not always have a happy ending.
Date Written: May 09, 2003
Average Vote: 3.6