I Swallow His Cum

Warning, the following story contains elements that some readers may find distasteful. This includes sex involving bodily waste. If you find the above offensive, please read no further.

I swallow his cum. It's our one rule, that every time, I swallow. Without knowing I'll do it, it's almost impossible for him to finish. He usually finishes in my mouth, but if he doesn't, I still have to swallow, even when he cums in my ass. I'm not the biggest fan of cum, but I've always been a swallower. With him, it was different though. He has some kind of fetish or something. He can fuck until he's raw and exhausted, but he can't quite get there without knowing it's going to be swallowed. He even has trouble getting off when he masturbates. So, I made my promise that I'll always swallow. Sex with Kyle is swallowing. And since I love him, I swallow, every time.

We'd had a nasty fight. Probably the worst one in our relationship. We'd gone over a week without hardly talking to each other. I was worried that things were never going to get back to normal, and my whole world had paled. Every one of his angry glances, and each of his sullen silences stabbed me through. I fought back tears, and begged for forgiveness. I was sure that he was going to leave me. I was so stupid for cheating on him. I don't know what I had been thinking. He wouldn't even touch me either. I was starting to accept that he was never going to hold me in those strong arms again, caress me with his large hands, or slide his wet cock out of my body, and press it into my mouth.

Then, earlier tonight, something changed. He didn't seem so sullen or angry. He seemed nearly as sad as I was. I was hoping that something had changed, and that maybe we could put all of this behind us. We were both sitting on the couch, on opposite corners of course, watching TV. When the show was over, and he clicked the TV off, I glanced over to him, and said, "You know... I'd do anything to make things right again. I'm so sorry, Kyle."

He didn't say anything. He just sighed, and looked away. I tried to stop the tears, but they just came out of nowhere, gently rolling down my cheeks. I got up, and walked to the bathroom, hoping to get control of myself. I pushed the door closed behind me, and then sat on the toilet, letting my tears silently fall for a couple of minutes.

I got control of myself, and remembered that I needed to go to the bathroom. I had needed to go since before the show started, and had been holding it all this time. So, I pulled my pants down, and sat back down on the already warm toilet seat. I leaned forward, and tried to relax.

My reverie slips away with the noise. Just as I had started peeing, I hear the door. Kyle stands in the doorway. Although he's still dressed, his cock and balls are both pulled out through his fly. He's almost fully engorged, red and veiny, and is bobbing in the air to his heartbeat. He silently walks forward, and then stops, standing right in front of me. His cock is twitching, stretching for my lips, and just a couple of inches away.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I say quietly, looking up at him with what I'm sure are wide, bloodshot eyes.

"You said, 'Anything'," he says, and that's when it strikes me; something's changed. I don't dare refuse him. Things might finally be getting back to normal again.

He brushes my hair back, out of my face and past my ear, and then his large hand grips me gently by the back of the head, as if to keep me from pulling away. Like I'd pull away from the only tenderness he'd shown me in a week and a half. He leans forward a bit, and the head of his cock brushes against my lips, glazing them with a glossy layer of precum. My lips part before the thought even crosses my mind, and then we're both moving at the same moment, and his swollen member is deep in my mouth.

His musky smell is deep in my nose, and I take him over and over into my mouth. I want him to cum, but I also want this to last forever. With only a little surprise, I realize that I just want to make him happy. If he wants to fuck my mouth, my throat, and cum that like, it's alright. If he wants to fuck me first, that would be okay too. But the thought makes me ache below. My pussy's getting a little wet, but my bladder is about to explode.

I pull off of him, and glance up again. "I... I need to pee."

I realize that I'm actually begging. There's even a whine in my voice. I don't understand his slight smile, or the twitch of his cock. He doesn't respond, at least not verbally. I hold it, sensing that he wants me to, as he strips. I admire his broad, muscular body. After he gets done, he strips me too, leaving me sitting the whole time on the toilet.

He slides his even stiffer cock back in my mouth, and puts his hand at the back of my head again. "Just sit there. Don't move. Don't... do anything."

My lips are wrapped around his shaft, but I made a questioning noise, looking up at him. He just stands there, with his cock in my mouth, not moving, just breathing deep. I feel... something inside of him working, or trying to. It's fascinating. Like something straining and then relaxing, over and over again. His cock takes turns, going flaccid a little, and then getting more rigid again. I can feel his heartbeat pulsing in my mouth.

Whatever he's doing, it's driving me crazy. My clit's pulsing, and my pussy's wet. All this strange teasing, after the longest dry spell of our relationship, is driving me into a frenzy. Even though I feel like I'm about to burst from needing to go to the bathroom so bad, right now, what I want more then anything else, is to have him thrusting deeply into me. He could put it anywhere, and I wouldn't complain.

He sighs, and mutters something under his breath. I think I catch, the words, "...not working," but I'm not sure. He pulls out from my mouth, and I'm too worried to ask. Is he giving up? Has he changed his mind? Are things about to go back to the angry looks and silent treatment?

Instead of answering any of my unasked questions, he confuses me even more, and takes both of my wrists in his thick hands. He pulls me up to me feet. My eyes go wide with unanswered questions, and I wonder if he's forgotten that I need to go to the bathroom. I clench up all down there, trying to hold everything in.

He pulls me into the shower with him, and quickly spins me around. I squeal just a bit in surprise at the spin and push, as he backs me into the corner of the fiberglass stall with a hallow thump.

He kneels in front of me, and starts moving his face toward my wet sex.

"I... I just peed... I-I didn't get a chance to wipe..." I say, worried that he's going to be revolted by the taste. I normally worry about the taste anyway, but this was extra humiliating.

"It's alright," he says, to my shock. "Just don't piss on my face while I'm eating you out. If you do... I'm going to punish you."

My breathing comes faster, as I see that same little smile on his lips again. He's... enjoying this! How dare him, get off in some sick way to my embarrassment and humiliation. My pulse pounds harder, and it's about all I can hear, as he moves forward, and licks my wet pussy. I don't know what's worse... that he's enjoying my humiliation, or that I am. My hands find his hair, and I pull his face hard into my dirty pussy, grinding against him as his hungry tongue and lips lap up my wet, pissy, pussy.

He's like a hungry demon between my legs, licking, sucking, and even biting, like he couldn't get enough of my dirty pussy. I let go of all of my worries, focusing in on just two things: my pussy, and trying to keep from going to the bathroom. The two feelings, felt together for the first time, mix together strangely. There is only the sensations of those things impending, both coming close, and me watching in an almost detached fashion, wondering which will come first.

I realize that my hips are bucking wildly, and my hands are clenching wildly at his hair. I'm coming. I gasp, and cry out, as I feel my pussy clenches convulsively, trying to squeeze a cock that isn't even inside of me. I'm just barely holding against pissing all over his face or shitting. And he doesn't stop. Oh God, he doesn't stop. As the waves of my orgasm subside, Kyle keeps licking me, and I can feel a second, more powerful orgasm building. I don't care anymore if I piss on him. I just want the next orgasm.

He doesn't let up, and he reaches up to grab my tits in his hands. He grabs them hard, painfully, like he knows I like it. It's suddenly like I'm being eaten alive, like he's devouring my pussy, and tits all at the same time. I feel his teeth on my clit, and I let go again. I don't even know how long I spasm, or how much noise I made. I'd slump to the floor, but something's holding me up. My tits and clit hurt good, and I just keep cumming.

For a moment, I just go away. I am just floating by myself, unaware of any other existence other then clenching pleasure. Riding the orgasm, spasming over and over again, all I know is ecstasy and darkness. And sucking. My clit, feeling bigger then it's ever been, is being sucked like it's a little cock, and then there's a tongue flicking it, and huge hands are still kneading my tits painfully. And I'm pissing.

Something holds me up, and all the pain goes away. Something pushes me into a hard corner to keep me from slumping entirely to the floor, and I sit on a hard little shelf. Piss is going everywhere, pooling up around my ass, flowing down my legs, and puddling around my feet.

A large hand is cupping my sex. It pulls away slightly, and I can hear myself filling the hand with piss. Then there's a warm shock as the piss filled hand grabs a tit. Then it repeats the motion with the other tit. I become a little more aware of what's going on, realizing that I've just had one of the most powerful orgasms in my life, and I'm still riding the endorphin high from it, while I'm being bathed in my own piss. It's the nastiest, dirtiest thing anyone has ever done to me. I should be enraged or disgusted. Instead, I find myself sitting up under my own power, and arching my back. I open my eyes, and meet the next piss filled hand with a reddened tit.

Kyle is kneeling between my legs. What piss isn't going on my body, what isn't pooling up around me, is running all over him. His face is drenched, and his hair is wet. He's got that evil smile again, and he's not even trying to hide it anymore.

He lifts a pissy hand up to my lips, and pushes the fingertips against them, trying to push them in. With a pounding heart, I let him. I'm prepared to be revolted, but as he lifts his hand, to let the little bit of piss cupped in his palm pour into my mouth, I'm not. It doesn't exactly taste pleasant, but it's not too bad. It's sort of like cum. Not pleasant, but not too bad. It's a little salty, with a slightly pungent taste reminiscent of ammonia. I swallow.

His other hand collects another handful of piss while I drink, and then he raises it up. He raises it to his lips, not mine, and then he drinks. He grimaces a little, probably like I did, and a vast feeling of love for him washes over me. My bladder nearly empty now, I slide down off of the shower's shelf, and kneel in front of him. I quickly wrap my arms around him, and he returns the hug. I kiss him long and deep, our wet bodies pressing together, and smelling of piss.

After a bit, he pulls away, and says, "My turn to cum. And it's time for your punishment too."

I just smile, and say, "Whatever you want..."

He leaves me on my knees, and he stands up. I suck the piss off of his cock, and he pushes deep into my throat with nearly each stroke. I've long since gotten used to this, but it's still hard to breath with his thick cock sliding in and out of my throat. I let him throat fuck me for a bit, the whole time realizing that I'm not going to be able to hold my bowels much longer. I'm virtually pulsing down there, to try to keep from dropping a big stinking turd between my feet.

He doesn't finish in my mouth, like I had thought he was going to. Instead, he pulls out, and tells me turn around, facing the corner.

"I.. I still have to go to the bathroom." I mumble, facing him, and feeling my cheeks turn scarlet. I can't meet his gaze.

"No biggie. We're already covered in piss. Now turn around." He reaches for me, to guide me into the corner.

I can't even look at him, but I half resist as he turns me around. He uses more force, and I give in. My face is just an inch or two from the seat I had been on. The seat has a molded rim most of the way around it, and so the whole thing is still filled with piss. He nudges my mouth toward the little notch in the rim, where a little rivulet of piss is trickling out of the seat.

"I have to go..." the whine is back, and even worse then before. "It's... not pee this time."

I'm so humiliated, I feel like I could just die. I feel like I'm blushing all the way to me toes. My heart pounds, and I definitely know that there's something wrong with me, because I can feel my clit pulsing again. No matter how I feel about it, there's something about being treated like this, that turns me on.

There's a long, pregnant pause, as if neither one of us knew what to say or do. I just sit there, on my hands and knees, staring at the pool of piss I'd left, and feeling my asshole contracting again and again, trying not to shit in front of my boyfriend. I can't look at him, so I don't know what he's doing, and I definitely didn't know what he's thinking. I can't tell if he had that horrible little smile again, or if he's looking at me like I'm the most disgusting thing on Earth. I'm not sure which would be worse. Things have changed all right, and not for the better.

I start moaning as I can't hold it any more, and I feel my asshole expanding to push the first, hard turd out of me. Tears run down my face again in my humiliation, and then I feel it. His hand on the back of my head. He's pushing me forward, closing the last few inches to my pool of piss. I tense up all over with that touch, and I feel a turd get cut off, and fall to the floor between my knees with a little thunk. My tight lips touch the little stream of piss, and my eyes are clenched closed.

Kyle kneels over me, his chest resting against my back, and his mouth next to my ear. "You said, 'Anything'," he whispers.

I had. A shudder goes through me, and I open my eyes. I look to the side, and could sort of see his face out of the corner of my eye.

"Yes. I said anything..." I prompt.

"Drink," he says again.

"We can go back to how we were?"

"We can start fresh."

I bend forward, and put my mouth back where he'd put it, and then open my mouth. As I do, I can't help but relax a little, and I feel my ass open back up as more shit starts to push out. I slurp up my pungent piss, swallowing every drop I get in my mouth, and I do it with a smile. He'd said we can start fresh.

I muffle a startled scream when he pushes his cock into my ass. He's fucked my ass plenty of times before, but never when I was already full back there, or when I was shitting. It's like the first anal I'd ever had, or like loosing my virginity all over again. The searing pain, like something being torn and forced open, and this alien thing being pushed into me, is intense. I white knuckle the seat as he takes the first slow strokes in my full ass, and then everything starts to settle down. It still hurts, but not quite so badly now. He strokes in and out of my full ass, and I can smell my shit. I continue sucking up my piss, and eventually resort to licking the dregs up, as he continues to thrust in and out of me.

Each time he pulls out entirely, more shit falls, and pretty soon, there's a pile between my legs. I can feel the thick stuff smeared on my ass cheeks, and all along my crack. I can feel it on my pussy. I think there might even be some in my pussy. This is definitely the most disgusting thing anyone's ever done to me. There's got to be something wrong with me for letting him do this to me.

Even worse, is that this is turning me on. I've become his little sex whore. I'll let him do anything to me, and I won't complain, no matter how gross or humiliating it is. I imagine him making me piss in a glass, and shit on a plate, making me sit down to eat a meal of my own waste at Valentine's dinner, with all the good china and silver. I imagine him taking pictures of it too. And then, I imagine him making me rub my pussy with shit, and masturbating with it. Masturbating with a turd. In front of his friends.

I grunt heavily, and pump hard against him, fucking him as hard as he's fucking me. I'm so fucking horny right now, imagining all of the horrible things he could tell me to do, and I'd just do it. Yeah, things have changed. I realize that I cheated because Kyle didn't treat me like a piece of ass, like a disposable whore. And now I realize that that's exactly what I need. It has to mean that there's something deeply wrong with me. But I've seen his smile, and whatever it is, it's wrong with Kyle too. He gets off on treating me like dirt.

"I want to cum," I moan. I didn't even realize that I was going to say anything.

He doesn't answer right away, but doesn't slow his fast fucking either. I don't pause. I want to cum again, but it's up to him. He holds my hips tight, and continues to fuck, but then says something odd to me. "Show me your shit."

At first, I'm not sure what he means. But then I remember the pile of shit between my legs, and I reach a hand down to it. I touch the dark brown mass tentatively. It's warm. Somehow that surprises me. I want to recoil in horror, but with my fingertips, I pick up a warm, sticky mass of it. It's marbled and lumpy, like a crumbly cheese. It's pointed on one end, and seems to have been broken off at the other end. It's harder then I had imagined, but still somewhat yielding under pressure, sort of like putty.

I lift it up to show Kyle, the turd in my fingertips, and only a foot or two from my face.

"What is that 'Becca?" he asked.

"...my shit." My cheeks were burning again, and the fire in my crotch was growing.

"What are you going to do with it Becca?"

I paused for a moment, my stomach fluttering in fear. What did he want me to do with it? He surely didn't want me to eat it, did he? Like in my fantasy? My mouth watered in anticipation of something terrible, and I felt my lips turn down in a grimace. What did he want me to answer? Oh God...

"Answer me!"

I didn't think about it anymore. I just blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. "Whatever you want me to!"

"Good girl. Squeeze it in your palm."

I did it. Oh, I somehow thought it would be more disgusting then that. It's still bad enough though. It's kind of slimy, despite the firmness. Too much pressure, and it just deforms. It made it smell stronger too.

"Look at your hand."

I do. I open my hand. It's covered in shit. Some of the kurds have flattened entirely, while others had burst open like a grape. There's unidentifiable little dark masses in it too. I suppose that's what they mean by "fiber". Bits had squeezed out between my fingers. It's disgusting, but somehow, it makes my pussy and clit yearn even more to be touched. I'm pretty close to cumming as it is, even with just the anal.

"Do you still want to cum?"

"Yesss...." I whisper, snakelike, in my humiliation.

"Make yourself cum. Use your shit hand."

Oh God. Now I don't want to cum. I don't want to touch myself with that disgusting hand. Besides, it'll give me a yeast infection, or worse. It could even kill me if I get a really nasty infection down there. Yet despite my too true thoughts, I watch in horror as my hand moves away, down toward my crotch. I moan, both in lust, and in half strangled horror, as I touch myself. This is so disgusting. This is wrong. I'm going to get so sick from this. But Kyle wants it. Kyle wants it. He... he's pulled out. He's watching me. With a loud moan, I feel my shit covered fingers push deep into my sopping pussy. A few quick strokes, and then they pull out, and start stroking my clit. Is that even my hand that's doing that to me? Surely, that must be someone else's hand. Someone else's shit covered hand.