Days in Rodanthe Pt. 02

Za'ana suddenly stirred around, removing the jacket. She indeed wore a halter top, gathered at the neck, and angled down her sides toward her waist, revealing just a hint of the sides of her tits. The thin, silky top offered no support, and the peaks of her roving, soft nipples caught the light whenever she moved. My dick began to grow. Even the sight of her dark hair across her bare back sent blood to my cock.

"Robert, sweetie, want to speak my native language?" she asked in a whisper. She tilted her head and smiled as I nodded. "Repeat after me."

I quietly echoed about a dozen syllables back to her, assuming I had just promised to wear lacy panties the rest of the trip or something in Persian.

"You just begged to lick my asshole!" She covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.

"Good! Can I beg in English too?" I said into her ear, smiling and feeling my dick expand even further in my pants. This was not where I first thought my mouth would first land on her body, but it was something I had fantasized about repeatedly, since I had never done it before.

She quietly unfastened her seat belt and unsnapped her jeans, then turned away and bent over. I moved into a better position, slouching down and looking straight at her beautiful ass. We had been occupying the middle and window seat of a three-seat row, and with the armrests up, there was enough room to curl into a sort of a sixty nine position, while staying hidden behind the tall seatbacks. My mouth watered as I watched the jeans slowly creep down, revealing the elastic bands of a lime green thong. She reached back and moved it to the side, exposing her crack and finally, her beautiful hole. It was dark brown and recessed slightly, with irregular ridges radiating outward from the center, all surrounded by small red dots where she had apparently shaven or waxed. I stiffened my tongue and plunged it in as deep as I could, withdrew, and dove in again several times, tasting her saltiness. Her other hand appeared and she grasped her cheeks and spread them, the dark red polish of her long nails contrasting with the surrounding flesh. I spent the next several minutes with my tongue extended, probing, licking and quietly kissing her crack and flexing asshole. She maneuvered her cheeks into different positions, at times widening her opening, providing me with a quick but potent whiff of her innards. My dick was rock hard in my pants. My arms had been pinned under her thighs awkwardly and just as I freed one hand to caress her, she yanked the jeans up and sat down, smiling, and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Very nice," she said quietly. "Your tongue is very talented."

Za'ana checked the aisle in front of us, then motioned for me to follow her back to the bathroom. We quietly latched the door. My mind was racing with the possibilities. I had always heard about airline lavatory sex, and now it may be my turn. Za'ana had never re-snapped her jeans, and was now pushing them and her panties down to her calves, while her breasts jiggled nicely in the halter. She stood up straight and my eyes traveled immediately to her crotch. She had apparently gotten a full Brazilian wax while I was buying clothes, as the skin was smooth as silk, if a little red, all around her protruding pussy lips.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" she said in an angry half whisper. Her demeanor had suddenly turned sour. "I let you lick my asshole and you still stare at this! You like this? Huh?" Za'ana held her crotch for a moment, then slapped my cheek. "You perverted piece of shit!" Two more slaps stung my face. I realized this was her first time slapping me directly, without a belt or flyswatter.

"Yes I love it!" I replied.

"On your knees and get closer then, you snot-eating masturbator!"

There was barely enough room, but I managed to drop to my knees and look up at her. I was hoping for an order to start nibbling on those sweet lips, but realized I was wrong when she sat on the toilet. Za'ana slapped me again and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me until I was halfway reclined on the floor, with my chin nearly on the toilet seat between her widened thighs. She yanked her green panties up to her knees and harshly rubbed them on my face.

"Smell! Perverted bastard!" she said, then pushed them back down.

To my surprise they were damp and fragrant. She had only been wearing them a couple hours; I guess I had done a good job probing her rectum. As I took in the breathtaking view of her pubic region, I detected the sound of rushing air. The stink of an onion-laced fart hit my nose as she emptied her bladder. I had forgotten how intense the smell could be. In between my gags, I could hear the echo of the urine as it hit the darkened metal beneath her. Suddenly she raised up, allowing some of the dull florescent light beneath her hips. A grunt from her was the only warning that a rapid succession of stinking, loose, Mexican food turds was about to blast its way out of her colon. The rotten vegetable smell was of course horrific, but I took it in as my damn cock, having enjoyed the sting of my face being slapped, her scented underwear and the idea of this olfactory torture, strained against my jeans. In the dim light I watched the silhouette of her nearly liquefied shit. It made an almost melodic song as it pelted the stainless steel toilet bowl and trap door before descending into the chemical-laden blue water.

"I see your cock is nice and hard Robert," She said, looking at the bulge in my pants, after her onslaught was over. "Show it to me, but do not touch it."

I opened and unzipped my jeans. My dick was painfully stiff. I hadn't jerked off in over a week, hoping to be able to make at least one real mess on a girl's face, with or without permission, in Lauderdale. If I didn't actually fuck or get a blowjob, maybe I could find a passed out girl alone and slide her clothes off enough to see some titties and jerk off on her, I had fantasized. It was ironic that Za'ana's arrival at the dorm meant that my face and mouth would now be the likely recipient of that load.

"You love smelling and watching my bowels, don't you? "

"Yes I love your bowels." I said, a new wording of the same old phrase. My dick was red and throbbing, pointing at the ceiling as I groveled on the floor.

"Don't you wish I had just made this maird all over you face?" she bent over and looked me in the eye. The halter top fell forward slightly, revealing even more of the side of her tit. "Will you beg to eat my bowels again?"

"Yes of course," I replied like someone in a trance. Her brown eyes could make me mumble practically anything.

Za'ana cleared her throat. "Now beg for my saliva!"

I did so and held my mouth wide open, receiving and swallowing two blasts of viscous, but mint flavored, spit.

"Okay now, clean my ass with the paper and then soap and water."

I stood and did as she instructed, wiping her ass, then soaping, rinsing and drying her brown orifice as she stood facing away from the sink, my embargoed cock sticking out. Za'ana kissed my cheek and left, leaving me to clean the seat and its surroundings, which had suffered multiple splatters from her high-elevation bombing.

We eventually slept and arrived in Miami at sunup. The rest of the warm Saturday was another assortment of lines, baggage claims and shuttles as we switched airlines to fly to San Juan, and finally to the island of Saint Martin. Za'ana treated me like a king in public, hanging on my arm frequently, flirting and asking my permission unnecessarily to use the bathroom or look around a duty-free shop. Little could anyone tell what was really going on between us.

Za'ana had warned me that our accommodations were not going to be five-star, and we would not be on the main beach. I didn't care, as long as it had a shower with plenty of soap and hot water. She spoke in French to our taxi driver, and we took a winding road uphill to what looked like an old military base, with a half dozen older, small, single story wood-sided buildings in straight rows. They were painted in tropical colors, however, and there was thick foliage all around. More conversations in Francias ensued as we checked in at the office, and then were shown our cabin. It was not much bigger than a single-car garage, with a living room, bedroom and bathroom in the corner. Everything, walls, ceiling, furniture, was painted white. There was a stained deck in the back that overlooked a small cove thru a wide sliding glass door, an anachronistic modern addition. There were mountains and large beaches in the distance. Below that was a two story-high rock cliff, with a battered-looking stairway leading down to the water. Za'ana had chosen well; this place was very private, and the secluded deck and small grassy yard would be a good place for our activities, especially at night. A few sailboats were anchored in the cove. She explained she had stayed here years before during college with her sister and some girlfriends, but offered no details.

We took turns showering and getting dressed for dinner. I wore one of the light colored suits I bought, and Za'ana looked terrific in a long yellow dress, nearly backless with deep armholes that nearly showed her whole side as she raised her arm. Layers of extra fabric draped loosely across the front could not completely obscure the movement of her braless, bouncing tits beneath as she strutted out to the taxi. I suddenly felt much older, not just like some average college dork. Her wavy dark hair was down but swept away from her face. She wore full makeup and some jewelry and turned quite a few heads as we entered the restaurant. She seemed aware of this but ignored it. I complemented her profusely. The dinner, at which we intentionally overate, and wine were delicious. We walked around the town afterwards and I bought her some flowers, just like in the movies. We had a couple more drinks, then headed back to the cabin.

After a brief chat on the sofa and another glass of wine, Za'ana stood and announced she was going to change. She paused and pulled her dress aside, revealing a beautiful tit.

"What are you looking at? You fucking pervert!" She reached out and slapped me. "You come into the room when I call you! No clothes!"

Soon I was naked as per her request, finishing my wine. Za'ana finally summoned me into the bedroom, which was on the water side of the cabin. My heart raced and the adrenaline began pumping. My dick was nearly hard just remembering our prior encounters.

The bedroom was lit but empty, and a white cotton bra and panty set with small red polka dots was laid out on the bed for me. I slipped them on, and luckily remembered to fasten the hooks first and spin the bra around like I had seen my roommate's girlfriend do back at the dorm while I pretended to be asleep. My dick was stretching the cotton to its limits. Za'ana was outside, standing on the darkened deck, wearing a similar underwear set. She was facing away, leaning on the railing, taking in the view. The deck spanned the width of the house and was about eight feet deep. She had moved the table and chairs to the side.

"Get out here Rob and lie down!" she turned around, drink in one hand, the other down the front of her panties.

I laid down, facing up, expecting to play a night game of catch the log. The uneven deck boards dug into my back but I didn't care. She gulped the last of her drink, stepped over and straddled my head, then lowered her beautifully shaped, panty-clad ass toward my face, stopping a couple feet away. Her knuckles contorted the front of the cotton panties as she rubbed her clit. Without warning, a dark spot appeared in the crotch and quickly grew, and soon a yellow stream of warm, liquor-smelling piss was erratically dripping on my face and neck. Some seeped out the hem of the panties and trickled down her smooth thighs and dripped onto my shoulders. As I caught some of the salty liquid in my mouth, to my surprise, I noticed a rapidly expanding bulge in the back of the panties. The unmistakable smell of shit assaulted my nose. She moaned and muttered something in French, then apparently translated it for me.

"I just love shitting in my pants! Stand up!"

I slid out from under her and arose, my cheeks and neck dripping with piss, aching stiff meat sticking out a leg hole of my cotton underwear. She stood facing away and I looked down at her heavily loaded panties; they were shaped like a dill pickle and a baked potato had been stuffed inside. The entire lower half was soaking wet and translucent, revealing the sepia contents within as they dripped with tinted liquid. The elastic hems were pulled away from her lower back and butt cheeks, barely restraining the putrid shit, the remnants of at least two meals. Thoughts of my hard cock plowing through all that and plunging into her feces-filled hole whirled about in my brain.

"You like me soiling myself?" she asked, carefully turning around, still rubbing her clit.

"I love it!" I responded, still in shock that she crapped her own pants.

"You love doing these disgusting things with me, don't you Robert?" She wiggled her hips and did a little hop, adjusting the straining panties, breathing heavily as she spoke. "I bet you would love to show the people out on the boats how well you can jerk your cock. Would you like that? Beg for permission."

The lights were on in the cabin, and our backlit activities were probably visible to someone with binoculars on the sailing vessels scattered in the small cove. The other cabins were about forty feet away and hidden by foliage, but a spectator could sneak through it to observe if they wanted to. I remembered the car that had stopped and was probably watching during our escapades in the woods beside the interstate. The thought of complete strangers watching me do this woman's bidding made me even more excited.

"Please let me jerk off for you, Za'ana. Please."

"Beg again, you fucking bastard."

I repeated myself, with a whinier tone, rocking back and forth slightly.

"Okay." To my utter shock she knelt in front of me. "Jerk your cock and squirt your orgasm mess into my mouth. Every drop!"

I pulled my throbbing meat out and stroked it crazily, looking at her gorgeous face and body as she watched me and rubbed herself, moaning quietly. The pent up excitement was too much to bear and within a couple minutes I was ready to explode. I stepped forward, felt her lips surround my upper shaft and I grunted loudly and blasted her palate, the head of my cock bouncing around like a pinball in her mouth. My spasms were so violent I felt them in my balls and rectum. I realized I had been groaning the whole time; someone next door could have easily heard. It felt like a pint of sperm had passed through my dick.

Za'ana quickly withdrew, lips closed, and arose, leaving a white gloss on the head of my dick, then pressed firmly down on my shoulders, prompting me to kneel. She grabbed my face, still a little wet from her piss, and pressed back. I looked up at the stars, but only for a moment, as my eyes closed from reflex as I was inundated with my own jizz. She spat the huge creamy load all over my cheeks, forehead, and drooled it into my open mouth, her hand clamped on my jaw. The smell was intense.

"Whatareyou, Robert?" she asked sternly, with a few small white drops beneath her lower lip. She maintained her grip on my jaw.

"Za'ana's perverted, nasty, masturbating, panty-assed bitch." I said, still looking upwards, out of breath, nearly gargling with my sperm.

"Don't you love wearing your messy orgasm all over your face for me?"

"Yes, of course." I said as I felt it drain down my cheeks and neck. A drop hung from my eyebrow.

"Have you missed the taste of my bowels?" she asked, still clutching my head.

"Yes very much." It wasn't a lie. It was not so much the taste itself as it was the rush of the degrading activity. Like spicy food, it's bad for you but you still want more.

"Then beg for dessert, you sick bastard." She then spoke angrily in another language.

"Za'ana, please, please let me have some delicious dessert."

She released her grip as she flung my head to the side. "Eat it Robert! Eat theallthe shit out of my panties!" she said loudly. The stink intensified as she spun slowly around, holding the top elastic band open to display her creation. Sperm from my face dripped off her fingers.

I took the stretched waistband from her and lowered my head, diving in as if I was in a pie eating contest. It was wonderful touching her ass with the side of my face. I wanted her to feel my enthusiasm, since she couldn't see behind her. My face was buried, and I was gagging as I scooped a huge mouthful of Za'ana's putrid, warm excrement. It tasted much like the last time, and the bitter juice permeated my entire mouth quickly. It was fairly firm, no doubt from the foods with cheese she had been ordering. I chewed only briefly and gulped it down loudly, then gasped for air, all so she could hear.

"Come up here Robert, I want to see you swallow my bowels."

Using my other hand, I held the wet panties from below and pushed up the dark brown mass and gathered a second mouthful. I let go of the waistband carefully so as not to spill any of the precious cargo, and rose to step around to face her. My bulging mouth was so full I couldn't close my teeth. A blob fell from my chin down my chest, staining the bikini top stretched across my chest. I was proud of my efficiency; over half the shit was gone already. With my brown-coated face a foot from hers, I chewed slowly and kept my lips apart, extending my jaw open completely each time, letting her see the disintegrating mush. Semen, now cold and watery, dripped out of my hair and down my forehead, forcing me to close an eye.

Za'ana's masturbating hand became more frantic and her breathing erratic as short, high pitched hiccups sounded from her shiny lips and perfectly white teeth. She continued to surprise me with her next request.

"Kiss me Robert!" she said, breathless, tilting her head to the side. "Share the dessert!"

I leaned in, and instantly she grabbed the back of my head and shoved her tongue into my mouth. She moaned loudly, and more quiet squeals emanated from deep within her as she literally sucked most of the remaining crap into her own mouth. The beautiful woman withdrew and our first kiss ended as her body began to convulse. Her hand chaotically assaulted her clit beneath her panties. In the dim light I could see the insides of her thighs were glimmering with moisture. She noisily swallowed, then gasped.

"More! More!" she said, almost pleadingly, and grabbed the waistband of the panties behind her back. Her teeth were no longer white and strings of brown spit hung from her chin.

I rushed around and quickly gathered a good sized mouthful and returned, and once more her tongue was in my mouth, bullying mine out of way. The excess shit splattered on the deck below our faces as our lips parted, our thickly coated tongues sliding across each other.

She dropped to her knees, putting only about a foot between her face and my stomach. She shocked me once again.

"Piss Robert! Soak me!" She looked up into my eyes. Her hand was frantically moving between her legs. Her lips were surrounded with brown smears from our tongues flinging excrement everywhere.

I pulled my recently satisfied dick out of the thin panties and aimed slightly upward, right at her face, and shot a yellow stream into her open mouth. I aimed as best I could, but she was jolting around and the warm liquid splashed all over both of us. She leaned back, arching her spine, seemingly wanting me to piss on her crotch. I stepped back and aimed downward and soaked her tits, stomach and the front of her panties. Suddenly Za'ana almost seemed to stop breathing, then convulsed and gasped loudly as she climaxed violently. She kept rubbing her clit, less frantically as she continued kneeling on the deck boards, surrounded by a puddle of piss and random splatters of shit. Her nipples were at full attention inside the soaked white bra, and brown slime trailed down her neck past her collar bone.