As I poured my second cup of coffee, I looked directly into your eyes and explained the situation that had been plaguing me for the past few days. My toilet was broken, and I had been holding in my shit for what felt like an eternity. The thought of the massive turd I had been storing up sent a shiver down my spine.
"I really need to take a shit," I confessed, my voice shaking slightly. "I've been holding it in for three days now."
You watched me with concern, your eyebrows furrowed in sympathy. I couldn't believe I was about to ask you what I was about to ask you, but the desperation was too much to bear.
"Can I please use your mouth?" I asked softly, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
For a moment, you didn't say anything, and I wondered if I had taken things too far. But then, with a small smile, you nodded gently.
"Of course, darling. I'm here for you."
It took me a moment to process your response. I started to undo my pants and wondered what the hell I was doing. As my underwego came down, exposing my pale, trembling ass, I felt a wave of nerves wash over me. What if I couldn't go? What if I stuck halfway out and ended up getting locked in your throat?
But then I felt the familiar twinge in my gut, and I knew it was time. Slowly, I lowered myself onto your face, feeling the rough texture of your skin against my sensitive flesh. I tried to relax as you cupped your hands behind my knees, supporting me as I positioned myself over your mouth and nose.
I took a deep breath and pushed. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The thick, warm sensation of my shit filling your mouth was both revolting and exhilarating. You took it like the good friend you were, swallowing as much as you could while I pushed even more of my immense load into your throat.
As I felt my ass relaxing and the last of the shit sliding down your throat, I collapsed onto your chest, sobbing with relief. You stroked my back soothingly, murmuring words of comfort as I struggled to catch my breath.
When I finally looked up at you, I saw that you were smiling, a strange mix of amusement and admiration in your eyes. I felt like I had just shared something intensely intimate with you, something that no one else in the world would ever know.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the effort of holding in my shit for so long. "You're a really good friend."
"I'm just glad I could help," you replied, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze. "And please, call me anytime you need to use my mouth for, well, anything."
We shared a laugh, and for a moment, the weirdness of what we had just done felt completely surreal. But then, the reality of my broken toilet and the enormous load of shit that needed disposing of hit me again, and I knew there would be plenty of opportunities for us to repeat this unusual bonding experience in the future.
As I sat up and wiped the remnants of my shit from your chin, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a brave and understanding friend like you. Would you be willing to experience the same overwhelming relief that I just felt? Would you open your mouth and invite me to fill it with my warm, thick shit? Only one way to find out!
