In order to take Donna’s mind off her recent break-up with her boyfriend of six months, her friends decided to take her out on Saturday evening. No men – just the four of them on a girls’ night out. This time they decided on curry and a movie, since Pirates of the Caribbean 2 had just hit the cinemas. Donna was inclined to look melancholy during the meal, but Hayley, Chelsea and Sandra never let her stew for long, and kept the topic of conversation well away from Liam, her ex. They kept reminding her that she was young and sexy and could have her pick of any of the men that they knew.
At twenty-two, Donna was indeed a catch, with blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a curvaceous figure with impressive G-cup breasts. Like her friends, she tended to go for low-cut tops and miniskirts when she went out, and tonight was no exception. Her cavernous cleavage was drawing attention wherever they went – a fact that her friends never tired of pointing out.
But it was not just Donna that was getting the attention; her friends were all very pretty. Hayley, like Donna, possessed a beautifully large pair of breasts which she loved to show off in tight-fitting, low-cut tops which exposed the tops of her bra cups. Her long golden hair fell down her back almost to her bottom, and the hemlines of her skirts were always grazing her buttocks.
Chelsea’s plunging halter top had perhaps the lowest neckline, and it constantly threatened to expose her E-cup breasts whenever she leaned forwards. She knew she should probably have worn a bra with it, but she did not really care if strangers occasionally caught a glimpse of her nipples. She too was wearing a tiny miniskirt to show off her best assets: her long, shapely legs, of which her friends were all very envious.
Sandra’s skirt was even shorter – since she was not quite as pretty as her friends, she usually made sure that she was wearing more revealing clothing than any of them. Hence this denim microskirt below which her buttocks peeped out at the back, and the extremely loose and low-cut draped top which exposed practically all of her very sheer bra, only covering her nipples by the barest margin, and failing even to do that if she turned her upper body at all. Her friends frequently pointed out her visible nipples, and she would tug the material across to cover them, only to have them exposed again a moment later.
After the meal they headed to the cinema, bought their tickets, and waited in line until they were allowed in. They found four empty seats in a row, and sat down in them. The adverts played, the trailers ran, and then the film started.
It was good fun, but half an hour in, Donna felt her bowels rumble. Something was definitely not quite right down there. Ten minutes later, she found she was feeling rather queasy. For her friends’ sake, she said nothing, but she began to get the feeling that she might not make it through the movie.
In fact, the others were beginning to experience similar symptoms. Chelsea whispered to Hayley, “I’m not feeling too well. I think that curry may have been, I don’t know, off or something.”
“I think you’re right,” Hayley whispered back. “I’m feeling a little sick too. I hope I can hold on until the end of the movie.”
Half an hour later, all four of them were squirming in their seats. Then Donna, who was on the end, decided she could not hold on any more. Her bowels felt like they were about to explode. She turned to whisper to Sandra, but instead found her stomach heaving. A torrent of vomit surged up her gullet and poured out of her mouth, deluging Sandra’s chest, soaking her bra and sliding down inside her low-cut top.
“Yuck!” cried Sandra in horror. She tried to get up, but was pushed back into her seat by Donna, who was terribly embarrassed and trying to get past her so that she could run out to the toilet. She turned towards the screen so she could sidle past Chelsea, but at that moment she lost control of her anus, and a stream of diarrhea flooded out of her rectum. The thong she was wearing did little to impede the flow, which fired backwards at Chelsea like water from a fireman’s hose, cascading over the brunette’s voluptuous chest.
Chelsea shrieked and turned her face to one side, to avoid getting splashed, but her queasy stomach could not cope with the smell of Donna’s diarrhea, and she found herself throwing up over Hayley’s breasts. In her shock and mortification, she accidentally unclenched her anus, and a rapid succession of very soft, squishy lumps of poo came spurting out of her rectum and into her white silk panties.
Hayley was momentarily appalled to find her chest covered in Chelsea’s vomit, but then her nausea got the better of her, and she suddenly threw up the entire contents of her stomach. Unfortunately, by now Donna was right in front of her, leaning forward over the next row of seats, and Hayley’s vomit surged up Donna’s back, all the way to her shoulder-blades, before sliding back down and splashing down on to Hayley’s thighs.
Sandra had got to her feet and was now trying to follow Donna, but she suddenly lost control of her bowels, and since she too was wearing a thong, once again Chelsea found herself being showered with diarrhea. Sandra was not leaning over as far as Donna had been, however, so the liquid poo hit her upper thighs rather than her chest. Instantly she spread her legs apart, so that the cataract of diarrhea would fall between them, but Sandra, clutching her stomach, leaned forward slightly, and her stream of poo started thundering into the crotch of Chelsea’s panties.
Sandra wanted to stop the flow, but she felt a more urgent biological need to get rid of it all. So she stayed in place, and pushed it all out, and a pile of squishy poo built up high between Chelsea’s legs, moulding itself around Chelsea’s panty-clad pussy.
Chelsea, disgusted, lifted the front of her skirt and pulled her poo-soaked panties away from her pussy. But Sandra was not finished, apparently, and her next blast of poo scored a direct hit on Chelsea’s naked pussy. Before Chelsea could react and let go of her panties, a more solid lump had emerged from Sandra’s anus along with the more liquid stuff, and it landed softly inside the front of Chelsea’s panties, its fall broken by the softer poo already in there. Chelsea let go of her panties to avoid getting more poo in there, and the waistband snapped back against her skin, trapping Sandra’s poo against her pussy.
Chelsea, disgusted beyond measure, unexpectedly threw up again. This time she was facing forwards, and since Sandra was now almost doubled over, clutching her stomach, her skirt had ridden up over her hips to expose most of her bottom. Chelsea’s vomit hit her right in the middle of her buttocks, soaking them and the thong between them.
Sandra attempted to take a step to her right, but she tripped and fell forward, landing with her face in Hayley’s lap. Her stomach heaved, and her vomit surged up between Hayley’s thighs, soaking the golden-haired girl’s panties. As she pulled herself away from Hayley, Hayley lifted herself off her seat in disgust, only to have her anus open up and an explosion of soft poo swamp the seat of her panties.
“Ugh, that was definitely a bad curry,” muttered Chelsea, wiping her mouth.
A middle-aged man in the row in front turned around and glared at her. “Shhh!” he said.