Natalia Kapretti was standing in front of the mirror, slowly undoing the buttons of her shirt. She took a deep breath and slid it off her shoulders, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contained her perky nipples. Her eyes darted down to her stomach, still flat despite having three kids. With a sly smile, she reached under her skirt and slid her hand down her soft, smooth thigh, until finally, she grasped the cheeks of her ass. She pushed her skirt up, inch by tantalizing inch, revealing more and more of the lacy black thong she wore beneath.
Her heart raced with anticipation as she stepped out of her puddle of clothing, leaving her completely naked in front of the mirror. Slowly, she grabbed a jar from the nearby dresser. It was large, and heavy, filled to the brim with her most prized possession - a jar of her own freshly made shit. She unscrewed the lid and held it up to her nose, inhaling deeply. The rich, earthy smell filled her nostrils and sent shivers down her spine.
With a soft moan, she dipped her finger into the shit, then slowly brought it up to her mouth. She swirled her tongue around her finger, tasting the sweet, salty mix of her own shit and spit. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a low growl of pleasure.
Closing her eyes, she imagined being reunited with her beloved shit. She pictured it coating her tongue, sliding down her throat, filling her up. She couldn't wait to feel the warmth and weight of it in her stomach. And when it was time, she would push it out again, and the cycle would continue.
Suddenly, she felt a sudden, intense urge. Without thinking, she opened the jar and tilted it, letting the cool liquid pour down her throat. She gagged a little, but the pleasure was too intense to stop. She kept going, taking big gulps, until the jar was empty and she felt full to bursting with the warm, squishy goodness of her own shit.
With a satisfied sigh, Natalia carefully rinsed out the jar, then put her clothes away and climbed into bed. As she lay there, the waves of pleasure washed over her, and she could feel the shit in her stomach moving, reminding her of the delicious taste and smell that still lingered on her tongue. She drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the next time she would be able to make love to her beloved shit.
