The moment I stepped into the cozy cafe, I could sense a familiar aura emanating from the table by the window. It was Christina, my long-lost friend from college. Our eyes met, and hers sparkled with mischief as she beckoned me over.
"This was our game!" she exclaimed, grinning in delight. I remembered how we used to play this depraved game during our senior year at university—no matter where we were or how much time had passed, she always had the right to call me and ask for use as her personal toilet. It was an arrangement that left us both thrilled and disgusted at the same time.
Despite feeling a bit nauseous, I couldn't help but feel wildly excited at the prospect of tasting Christina's shit once again. We hadn't seen each other in years, and I'd been wondering if she was still single or if she'd married her husband. As it turned out, she was still unattached...and very much enjoying her singlehood.
As she filled me in on her life over the phone, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she still was. She had grown into her features, her once-boyish figure now curvy and womanly. And yet, there was no mistaking the look in her eyes—they were filled with the same twisted desire that fueled our perverse game all those years ago.
When she finally arrived, she strutted up to me with a coy smile and sat down at the table. Her ass was filled with warmth, and I could see the bulge beneath her clothes as she spread her legs invitingly. Slowly, she crawled towards me and looked me straight in the eye as she whispered, "Crawl in here and open your mouth."
Without hesitation, I did as she asked. Her black hole of pleasure was insistent, demanding my attention as it filled my mind with images of what was to come. I crawled towards her, my body trembling with anticipation as I opened my mouth wide.
A moment later, a huge, stinky pile of shit filled my mouth—I could taste Christina's unique flavor, the taste of my girl, my mistress. Her scent was intoxicating, and despite the initial shock to my senses, I found myself wanting more. One thought reverberated in my mind as I savored her offering: I had to do it quickly and cleanly.
The rest of the night was a blur of passion and perversion as we relived our twisted past and explored new depths of depravity. As I lay there, covered in Christina's filth, I couldn't help but smile. We may have grown up since our college days, but some things, it seemed, would always remain the same.
