Love to Shit Girls - Constipated Strained Turds

My love for shitting knows no bounds, especially when it comes to straining out those fat, hard constipated turds. The feeling of my insides clenching and writhing, trying to expel what won't come out easily, is exhilarating. I know I have to push, really push, sometimes even to the point where I fear it might hurt. But I can't help myself; the anticipation of feeling my sphincter stretch and my anus widen under the pressure is too much to resist. And once it finally breaks free—oh, the sheer bliss of relieving myself in such a satisfying manner!

As I position myself upon the porcelain throne, there's a thrill that runs through me. I grip the handles tightly, my knuckles turning white, and I force myself to relax. I take a deep breath... and then another. I have to let go, let my body do its natural thing. I feel myself starting to strain, my abdominal muscles tense up as if they're bracing for impact. It takes a moment more before the first turd starts to emerge, slowly at first but then gaining momentum as it presses against my insides.

The sensation is beyond words. It's almost painful, but at the same time so utterly pleasurable. I can feel every inch of that massive shitball being pushed through my rectum, stretching my hole wider and wider with each thrust. I have to give a little groan as it exerts pressure on my prostate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. And then, finally, it breaks free—the first turd slides out of me with a loud, satisfying plop!

"Just... just one more," I whisper to myself. I know that there are more waiting inside me, more fat ones that are just begging to be pushed out. But I'm not ready to give up on this feeling yet. So I grit my teeth and bear down again, willing my body to expel the second one. It's even more of a struggle than the first, but eventually—after what feels like an eternity—it slides out as well. And then I'm done, panting and spent on the floor, reveling in the wonderful feeling of being so utterly full and satisfied.

Looking down, I admire the fruits of my labor. Two beautiful constipated turds lie there, glistening in the light, a testament to the power of my bowels. I can't help but feel a surge of pride as I remember the way they stretched out and strained me, the way they forced me to push past my limits. It's a memory that I'll cherish for a long time to come, one that makes me long for the next time my asshole gets its chance to shine.