The Summer of '89

"Suck my ass, Brad! Show me how much you deserve this, how much you want it, how much you want me to do it to you!" I noticed that her fingers had started to stroke her clit. I pressed my mouth to her asshole, and began to soul-kiss it. I started with light lapping of her tight hole, savoring the nasty taste, a taste I knew should disgust me. I began working my tongue into each wrinkle of the pretty little brown eye, wanting to memorize its taste and every nuance. Then I began to push my tongue past the tight ring of her anus, so that I could French kiss this beautiful goddess's ass. There were light little hairs that ran inside the crease of her ass and around her asshole, and I could feel them tangle in my nose.

When my tongue had finally gained entry, I was amazed at how cavernous it seemed. Beyond the tight seal of her asshole around the base of my tongue, I felt nothing, tasted nothing. I decided I would try again, and pulled my tongue out of her ass. When I did, I was treated to an assful of rank farting. Heavier and wetter than the last one, it was much stronger and had a very distinct bitter taste to it. It was a taste with which I was to grow quite familiar before the end of the summer.

Even though she was jerking off at the time, Angie thought it was too funny not to laugh at how she had just blown another fart into my mouth. Her sweet laughter added more delicious degradation to the nasty services I was doing for her. I literally swallowed her gas, not wanting any of it to escape. It was so rank, it made me involuntarily gag for a moment, which seemed even funnier to Angie.

Then Angie resumed stroking her beautiful clit, and I resumed licking her asshole. I pondered whether she would let me lick that sweet pussy of hers, then pushed my tongue back up into her asshole again. This time, that cavernous feeling was gone, and things were much more snug inside. I pushed deeper and deeper into her, until the tip of my tongue pushed into something firm and exquisitely bitter. I froze as I felt the electric shock of realizing that my tongue had come into contact with what could only be this beloved female's shit.

I noticed she had stopped too, perhaps trying to read what had happened and what my reaction had been.

"Did you touch it?" she asked tentatively.

Not wanting to break this precious contact, I merely grunted an unintelligible "unh-huh", and nodded slightly, hoping that would be enough to confirm her suspicions. It was so bitter, and yet I couldn't bring myself to pull my tongue off of her shit! I felt totally beneath her.

As though my response quelled some unanswered doubt she might have had, she relaxed ever so slightly and laughed cruelly.

"You want it, don't you!" she said through what sounded like a grin. And I felt her bear down slightly.

The dirty bitterness engulfed the final inch or so of my tongue now as it moved down further in her body. I thought, this is it! I'm about to do the nastiest thing anyone ever did for anyone else!

"I want to hear you say it," she said, "but I don't want you to pull your tongue out of there..." She thought for a moment while I absorbed the taste of her shit through the tip of my tongue. "OK, if you don't pull your tongue out of my ass right now, I'm going to shit — literally. You're making me have to go. Now if you want to keep your tongue in there, you have to agree you're going to eat it, 'cause I don't want to get messy here!"

The sheer arrogance of her proposition made precum spill out of the head of my cock. Then I felt her shit engulf another inch of my tongue as she relaxed her bowel control a little more.

For better or worse, I could not prevent myself from giving her tacit permission to shit in my mouth. I WAS HER SLAVE, and I was going to prove it by EATING HER SHIT!

I felt her fingers busy themselves again with her clit, and then she began to bear down in earnest. I was surprised at how quickly the shit now began to slide down to her asshole, forcing my tongue ahead of it.

And then the moment of truth arrived. With one final grunt, I felt her body begin to wrack from orgasmic waves, and my tongue was expelled in a sudden burst of shit that filled my mouth. It was firm and disgusting, and far worse in taste than anyone could imagine. I felt a strong gag reflex rising, but forced it down, along with the first mouthful of this beautiful girl's excrement. My mouth and throat filled with shit again, and I was forced to swallow it. Meanwhile, she was still at the height of pleasure, and I could feel her body spasm as her orgasm skipped along, almost in time with my shit eating. It almost seemed like my body being filled with shit made her body fill with pleasure.

I accepted this particularly piercing humiliation, which only a person who has been used as another's toilet can know. I sucked and swallowed her shit down while she came violently, obviously at my expense. I wallowed in the bitter-sweet pain of being used in such a horrible way. No amount of imagining and fantasizing can prepare you for the stark reality of the dirty, disgusting taste of shit, and the knowledge that another person thinks so little of you that they would force you to experience the very worst possible tastes of their body. And this girl was coming over it! All the clichés regarding the degradation and humiliation of ass-kissing and shit-eating flash through your mind, with the crystal realization that in your case they are now absolutely real, not mere verbal abstractions.

And then, she finally reached that final climactic part of her orgasm; apparently the skippers were only the harbinger of what was to come. As her hips writhed back and forth, grinding her ass into my face as she filled me with shit, I came too! The stinging shame of it stroked the same nerve that lapping Angie's piss up from the cellar floor had only touched upon, and I came so hard that I thought for sure my head would split, that my brains would spill into the sand, and that my mind would be gone forever.

Angie's orgasm finally subsided, even as she continued to shit in my mouth. Being male, my orgasm had finished well ahead of hers. No longer buoyed by the erotic tension of pre-orgasm, I now had to experience the true nature of my degradation. The bitterness of the shit seemed to permeate the very core of my lips, gums, and tongue. Honestly, I thought I was going to throw up right then, and there was absolutely nothing pleasant about it. But I owed her this, I thought; I promised it to her, and now I got to feel what it really meant to be another person's slave, their toilet. After all, she had brought me to heights that seemed humanly impossible, and frankly from a practical standpoint, she still had to shit.

The lowness I felt as I ate the rest of her shit cannot be described. I felt like I might die. And yet I ate it all. I even kissed her asshole clean as she instructed, then tasted the foulness again as she told me to lick her shit off my lips. I did it all because I worshipped her. And she did what she did, because it was fun for her.

She spent the rest of the summer enjoying the privileges almost no one on earth has experienced and none truly deserve. She shit on my face and in my mouth so often, I found that I actually began to crave the incredibly foul bitter taste of her shit. One weekend, she insisted that I eat nothing but shit and drink nothing but piss. I think she came 13 or 14 times.

She only let me lick her pussy once, and I could taste the distinct flavor of sperm, and to this day I have no idea whose it might be. I never fucked her, and she never sucked my cock. Our sexual relationship was restricted to exploring the erotic possibilities of dominance, humiliation, and toilet slavery.

I'm amazed that I never got sick, but somehow I didn't. When Angie left at the end of the summer, a chapter of my life closed. Since then, I have never come close to realizing any of the amazing fantasies that Angie made so real for me then. She gave me a very sweet kiss on the cheek and a warm hug when her limo arrived at our house the day she left.

"Thanks for a wonderful summer, Bradley," she said with a wink. And then she was gone. I stared after the limo long after it disappeared. She went back home and then off to college. I didn't see much of her in the years after that, and we never wrote or called each other. She's gone on to become a very successful writer, living in NYC. I still live in NJ, but I've got hardcover copies of all of her books.

Recently my aunt (her mother) decided to show off their latest mansion by throwing a family reunion, and I'm going up to Long Island to attend. I understand Angie is going to be there...