Our unique arrangement persisted, no matter how much time passed or how frequently we communicated. Christina held the power to beckon me, transforming me into her personal toilet. The contents of her calls remained a mystery, as I never knew what she had consumed. Despite feeling queasy, the exhilaration of our encounters never waned.
It had been a while since Christina and I last saw each other. I pondered whether she was now married or involved with someone new. Upon our reunion, I was captivated by her enduring beauty, and I craved the distinctive flavor of her waste. We selected a secluded spot, and she positioned herself on the table, her rear end filled with a warm, thick delicacy. She spread her legs and commanded, “Crawl in here and open your mouth!”
My gaze fixated on the black hole before me, and I obeyed, drawing near and parting my lips. A large, pungent mound instantly filled my mouth. Earlier, she had indulged in a hamburger, ribs, and cake, as she whispered softly. The taste was unmistakably Christina’s, the essence of my woman, my mistress. In that moment, I focused on one thought: I must complete this task swiftly and thoroughly!