The Summer of '99

I looked at the impossible beauty of the globes of her ass pressed against my face, and knew in my heart that my destiny was to eat her shit whenever she deigned to feed it to me. I simply nodded without removing my face from her ass.

"This is my favorite way to come, Brad, did you know that?" she said, and she began stroking her clit. It reminded me of the very first time we had done this over a decade ago. "Lick my asshole, like a good little slave preparing to eat his mistress's shit, Brad. Show me how much you appreciate this treatment by lovingly licking my asshole."

She was so much more verbal now! I loved it! I went about the business of trying to make her feel comfortable to abuse me in the worst way, tasting every wrinkle of her asshole, and then pushing my tongue up inside. It seemed easier to get my tongue up there than I remember from the past. It slid easily in, and I found myself opening my jaw painfully to slip it in just that extra quarter inch or so. I loved the feeling of her beautiful sphincter wrapped around the base of my tongue, and the thought of where the rest of my tongue was embedded.

Then I tasted shit for the first time in 10 years. It started slowly down her anal canal and I licked the tip of this obscene excrement cock. I could feel her furiously rubbing her clit. I heard her moaning softly, then she would bear down with a gentle grunt. Her shit came closer and closer to the end of its journey, with me frantically licking every nook and cranny, burying my tongue in the softer spots. Shit tastes every bit as bad as you imagine it to, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I wanted to suffer for her whim. It made the abuse so much more real and personal.

"Oooh, yes!" she cried, and she began to come. "Oooh yes! Eat it, you worthless shiteater! Eat my shit when you get me off! Yes, eat shit!"

Somehow her words stung in a way that our kinks had never done before. She cut through the veneer of my older age and wisdom like a hot knife through soft butter, and made me feel more degraded than I imagined was humanly possible. And then her shit pushed its way out of her asshole and into my mouth! And once again I proved that I was a bottom feeder in this world, sucking and chewing on her shit as fast as I could. I was more concerned about making sure I could eat fast enough so that she could keep a continuous flow of shit into my mouth than I was with the sheer outrage of being made to eat another human being's waste.

She was always a violent cummer, and this time was no different. Her body wracked with waves of pleasure as she made me eat shit, and I was so absorbed in the stinging humiliation of it all that I surprised myself when I began to come too, right in my own pants. I remembered vaguely that in the midst of all of this, I hadn't even taken my clothes off. I realized that this was all about her and her pleasures, her cruel pleasures, and I loved it. I became convinced at that moment that my young crush on her was no crush after all. Angie was the perfect woman.

After her orgasm subsided, she lay there satisfied and happy, like a spoiled brat princess, and let me finish the task of eating her shit, then licking her ass clean. I didn't even have to be told to kiss her asshole afterward in gratitude. That was something that we had established that summer so many years ago, and I was still well-trained.

She didn't move as she said, "God, I almost forgot how good it can feel to do something like that to someone else! Mmmmmm... you even remembered to kiss my asshole in thanks! You ARE spoiled, you lucky bastard, getting shit on by someone like me!" And then she gave me one of those wonderful derisive laughs.

My humiliation kept me silent. I felt like the bottom in an abusive relationship; the addict that can't stop themselves from destroying themselves for the other party. It felt horrible and wonderful at the same time. It was the feeling a voluntary slave should have.

She broke the silence after a few minutes.

"Brad, I'm tired. All that wine is getting to me. Do me a favor and leave your phone number on the pad on that desk over there. I'd like to get together with you again sometime, maybe. It's been nice seeing you."

It was barely 9 o'clock. I was stunned by this apparent dismissal. It was not how I expected this to turn out. Not that I had a clear idea of what might happen, but... I quickly scribbled down my number on the pad, and went over to the bed, where Angie was still sprawled out in all of her wonderful naked beauty. I leaned down and kissed her cheek and said, "It's been good seeing you too! Call me, Angie..."

And then I turned and walked out.

I heard her chuckle and say, "Your breath stinks!" just before I closed the door. I paused for a moment, then thought it would be best to just leave.

Perhaps the most embarrassing thing about it is that I really waited with bated breath every day after that for her call.

About two weeks later, she finally did...