Expressing His Birthday Desire - Chapter 2
After Emma left angrily, I spent a lot of time reflecting on our argument. I was confined to a small room with just a toilet, leaving me plenty of time to think. I understand her point in trying to help me with my wish. Yet, she should've realized I couldn't breathe under her, right? I asked her to make the experience feel real but maybe I shouldn't have been so literal. She did try to communicate differently, but I could've phrased it better. I guess I was still shell-shocked from almost passing out.
The front door opened and closed, and Emma entered the room. She was wearing a headband and a running top, without any bottoms on. She must've gone for a run to relax. I didn't have much time to process before she was turning and sitting on the toilet. I had to open the lid quickly. Her legs were apart, and I could see fresh sweat dripping from her stomach down to her pubic area. Her crotch was wet with sweat. She got closer to me, and I could feel the sweat droplets falling onto my face. She unexpectedly released a forceful stream, but fortunately, I'd gotten the hang of it by then. She just said, "Toilet paper."
I started working, hoping to break the silence.
I heard Emma's footsteps not long after. The lid lifted and she sat down, ignoring me completely. She peed without speaking a word. As soon as I finished, she didn't get up immediately. Maybe she would apologize for almost killing me? Instead, she moved slightly forward, raising her right leg over the other. Her left butt cheek pressed against my face, covering one eye. Then, she raised her right leg over me. Her asshole hovered above my face, and Emma passed another long, loud fart. She looked like she put all her effort into it. The hot, wet, and sticky air filled my nose and mouth. She cleared her throat and stood up. I saw a glimpse of a smile on her face before she closed the lid and left.
The cabbage smell under the lid was intense. The fart still burned in my nostrils. Did she save it up for this? Was it a punishment? She definitely wasn't princess-like but more like Queen Mary. Maybe I should talk to her and apologize first.
When she entered the next time, she sat down and closed her legs. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel the warmth coming from her vagina, the hair on her crotch brushing my nose, and her breathing. I felt the vibrations of her tooting through her buttocks. She didn't laugh while she did it. Just normal, casual expulsions. The typing sound continued as she continued peeing. She didn't check up on me once. When she was finished, she stood and moved to close the lid.
"Emma, wait!"
She looked slightly surprised and murmured sarcastically, "Oh! I must be going mad. I hear voices and yet there's nothing but me and a toilet here."
"Ah-ah-ah. Caught, huh? But look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be ungrateful. It was sweet of you to worry for me. But it was unreasonable of me to expect you to realize what was happening in my mouth. I was wrong. Please, forgive me? I promise I won't complain anymore."
Her half-smirk turned into a more genuine smile, but she kept up her charade: "I have to be strong. I can't give in and talk to the toilet or I'll definitely lose my mind. I'm all alone in this house. Luckily, Grace texted me. After dinner, I'll see her and have some fun. I haven't done much for myself this weekend. I think I'll drink and dance my problems away."
As the hours pass, I hear music, the sound of the shower running, and the aroma of cooking. My imagination is put to the test as I attempt to create a mental picture of Emma moving around the house using nothing more than these muffled sounds. I'm feeling a bit hungry myself, having consumed nothing except someone else's leftovers since earlier in the day. It might not be the best idea to complain about that, though...
There is a positive aspect to this, though: I don't have to go to the bathroom. I had planned to withhold my bowel movements for the entire weekend. However, Emma must have fed me several liters of her own urine by now, and I need to release some water as well. This is something I've prepared for. With limited movement in my restrained right hand, I reach for the bottle next to me and secure it in place. Slowly, I introduce my penis into the opening, tip it upright to minimize spills, and let myself go. This might not be the most convenient method, but it should do for a while. After positioning the bottle, I'm left to stare at the ceiling and let my thoughts take over.
The setting sun brings the sound of approaching footsteps. It's a different gait, almost a clack... shoes with heels? Before I know it, Emma's face appears above the toilet seat.
"Toilet, toilet on the floor, who's the fairest of them all?"
I can't help but exclaim "Wow" in surprise. Her smile recognizes my reaction as intended. The makeup is subtle, with shades that make her look like a gothic princess. Her top is a low-cut gold crop-top that exposes the side of her breasts and the piercings on her nipples. Below, she's wearing loose shorts, which allow a glimpse of her lower stomach and the cleft of her hips. A while later, she slides out of the shorts, exposing a barely-there piece of blue lingerie. Her move is confident and nonchalant.
She picks up a linen skirt.
"I'm not sold on the pants. I'll try something else."
After lowering her pants, she slips on the skirt. The blue lingerie is now visible through the translucent fabric. She glances in my direction and rolls her eyes. She delivers a monologue, seemingly addressing me.
"I can't believe men think they get a say in how women dress. The most important thing is that I like what I'm wearing and I'm comfortable. If they don't like it, they can either appreciate it or shut the hell up. It's a damn good thing I don't have a boyfriend criticizing my outfit!"
She turns back to the mirror, frustrated and sweaty.
"Too bad the underwear is sticking out so much. I can solve two problems with one solution. I'll go commando, looking better and feeling cooler!"
She removes the lingerie and tosses it aside. I attempt to express an opinion but I'm greeted with a reproachful gaze. She mimes a silent conversation with herself.
"It's f*cking annoying. Men are so demanding. I don't care if they like it or not. I'm not doing it for them."
She goes back to the mirror and adjusts the straps on the shoulder blind to her skirt. She appears a bit irked.
"Sh*t, I wish you'd get a clue!"
With her plan in mind, she straddles me, and a few quick, short streams of urine land on my face. I quickly clean myself, and she leaves, saying,
"At least I don't have a boyfriend breathing down my neck. I can go out drinking with Grace."
I stay in the dark as the front door closes.
The rest of the night is uneventful. I contemplate my thoughts for hours on end. Is she ignoring me to make my fantasy come true or is she still upset? Perhaps the "pretending not to have a boyfriend" scenario is just a coping method. I can't stop thinking about it… and I can't help feeling like she's having a bit of fun. She seems more confident and a bit meaner, as if teasing me. What was that with the intentional fart on my nose? And she definitely seemed annoyed that I didn't clean her up last time. I manage to doze off, but my sleep is anything but restful.
In the morning, the sobering sound of heels on the floor returns. They tread more evenly this time. Something hard drops to the floor, followed by barefoot steps. The lights turn on and Emma's disheveled, hungover face greets me. She seems pleased.
"Look at that," she brags with a smirk. "I made it to the weekend without dying of dehydration and wasted stomach."
She giggles, as if amused by my predicament. I feel a gloomy foreboding and begrudgingly accept another weekend of servitude. As I hear her rustle through the kitchen, I wonder what other new adventures the day might bring.
Greetings darling. I apologize for my harsh demeanor earlier. You could have been a bit less disrespectful, but you did eventually say sorry.
"Hey babe! It's so lovely to hear your voice. What time is it?" She responds jokingly, "I don't know, probably around 3 AM. We were kicked out of the club to close it. Grace and I had one last drink before leaving, chatting about random things."
I inquire about the events, "So, how did it go? What happened after the club?"
She moves closer to me and says, "Shhh... open up. You're still a bathroom facility for me until tonight." She plops on my face, her ass threating to squash my nose. She lets out a delighted giggle, then reestablishes her balance. A strong urine stream fills my mouth. It still tastes of beer. Simultaneously, I feel a foam forming in my mouth as it blends with urine.
"Yikes, thanks. I needed that." She rises and says, "You may wash me now."
I clean her while contemplating this statement. Her pussy appears wetter than usual. It's not just from urine. It's different than the dampness she had this afternoon, stickier, and less, well, salty. Then it clicks; she's turned on. Wait... I could ask her about this, but instead, I continue dutifully licking the pee.
"It was wonderful reconnecting with Grace and dancing. She helped distract me from today's chaos. The only downside was getting a bit too drunk. I shouldn't have consumed so much." She notes.
Her eyes dart in a contemplative manner as she decides whether to reveal something, "To be honest, this 'toilet first, boyfriend second' idea... I think I may have taken it a tad too seriously."
I stop licking and say, "Please continue." Her bottom lip is between her teeth. "Forgive me, baby. While dancing, I unknowingly brushed against a fellow club-goer. He started dancing behind me and held my waist. At a certain point, he lifted his hand, moving it up to fondle my chest."
Her eyes become wet with visible anger and frustration. "We had a fight. I was so consumed with the thought of being a toilet instead of a boyfriend this weekend that when he kissed me... I didn't push him away. I'm sorry, okay? It was just the alcohol muddling my mind with sex and fantasy." Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "You know I don't think rationally when horny and imbibed."
A tear lands on my forehead, "The next thing I witnessed was him forcibly pinning me against a couch and thrusting inside me without any warning. He was so aggressive... unlike you."
She brushes her neck as she describes the experience, "I returned to my senses, freed myself, and confronted him. He fell off the couch. I ran back to Grace. I... I feel awful. It was just the alcohol, not me! I need to believe that, right? Can you spare some forgiveness?"
Her eyeslock on mine. I should be mad, but my heart softens. To a degree, I was responsible for this outcome. I accused her of being a toilet, then rejected her, she became desperate for affection. Does that make this her fault, or mine, or both?
"You're forgiven." She kisses my forehead gently. "Now, there's a small complication. My not-boyfriend fantasy took a strain on my poor pussy. You've partially consumed it throughout the day using 'toilet paper,' then it got stimulated in the club... We can't leave it utterly neglected."
She nibbles on her lower lip and scoots back from me, "What say we end our role-play early, and you fuck me properly?"
"That's quite an enticing offer, my beautiful lady... however, can't we complete my birthday gift first? It's just a single day, and afterwards I'll gladly make it up to you! As soon as you kiss me to change me back into my boyfriend form."
She huffs in dissatisfaction and aggressively lunges towards me, smothering my mouth with her wet pussy.
"This is a bit harsh. I've never been turned down after an offer like that. And you're insane if you expect me to kiss you before you clean your mouth at least a thousand times! Well, suit yourself, toilet man. The least you can do is eat me out now!"
She doesn't allow any response or delay. I start kissing her pussy, examining it with my tongue. Emma's annoyed expression begins to soften with every movement. Wait, she just let some stranger eat her out at the club, yet she's the one who is furious and I'm the one who's apologetic? Soon her breaths become quite heavy. I concentrate on her clit. I circle around it, press and slightly suck on it. She lowers her leg more, granting me better access. Emma is moaning now, gently squeezing her breast. A captivating sight. I increase the pace and pressure. She leans back, pressing down harder. I'm stuck to her pussy. She grabs my hair with a hand and pushes her clit forcefully in my mouth. Moving my tongue needs major effort. The moans are growing louder, and wetness is flowing down the side of my cheeks. Emma relaxes her muscles, allowing more fluid to reach my mouth. Suddenly, she shifts and unlocks her buttocks. Her asshole winks a few times, just an inch away from me. Finally, she farts a few times. The hair strands hit me, leaving my eyes in a state of shock.
"This is a pleasant surprise: I don't have to stand up to fart after my orgasm."
She extends her tongue out, restores the lid, and stumbles away. The stench imprisoned beneath the lid becomes my only ally for the night. I drift off to sleep with her saliva drying on my face.
As the sun rises high in the sky, the lid is lifted. Emma's glassy-eyed face appears in the white circle. You can clearly see the hangover on it! I mockingly shout:
"Top of the mornin'..."
She slams her wet pussy on my mouth, interrupting my sentence. Rather impolite!
"Quiet! Hangover! Headache! No talking! Just toilet." Pee begins to flow simultaneously with a couple of stinky farts. She hovers above me before leaving. Shortly after, the aroma of coffee permeates the bathroom. I once again attempt to release some pee, being cautious not to soak myself in my own old pee.
Mid-afternoon, she appears with a large coffee mug in her hands. I raise my eyebrows, noticing her expression as she faces me:
"Oh yes, I know... This is the third one. I need to combat this hangover somehow."
She sits and starts to pee. While I am cleaning, her lower stomach rumbles. She stares at it in surprise, then at me:
"This is unexpected. I've never gone two days in a row! And you're in luck, sir, I just made you brunch!"
She grins wickedly and leans towards me. Unlike yesterday, there's no request for consent. The moment her anal opening aligns with my mouth, a wet fart permeates it. Less than a minute later, another fart follows, accompanied by a small ball of gooey waste. Ugh! Yesterday tasted terrible, but this is beyond imagining - it's bitter, and incredibly acidic. On top of that, the liquid-like consistency makes it easy to spread around my mouth.
The stench reaches Emma and she quickly covers her nose, "Ewww, I'm sorry. That smells like something from the underworld! I drank way too much yesterday."
I hastily swallow it, eager to get rid of the taste. Her stomach rumbles again and she stands up.
"Here it comes again. Let me use the actual toilet."
Halfway through, she stops and sits back. I'm still open-mouthed. She grins wickedly, "Actually, I believe in keeping my word. Plus, this'll surely put an end to this fantasy of yours." [
emma and i agreed she'd give my face a gentle pee during her orgasm,but she would keep the actual poop inside her. that was a deal we made],she grits her teeth, arching her back, and lets loose a series of loud farts, then one final wet fart. she deviously adjusts her buttocks and aims at my mouth, "this is the gift i promised"
her asshole winks a few times, nearly touching my lips. but suddenly, to my surprise, she stops, "i uh, i think i left a little present for you in the toilet bowl. here you go"
she lowers the lid, pulls off the hinges and tosses it to me, "go on, eat me out.", she says, as i look back at her
She stares directly into my eyes and shifts her body until her anus lines up with my open mouth. She focuses, narrowing her eyes and biting her lower lip. I notice her abdomen tense as a massive fart combined with hazardous feces bursts into my mouth. The mixture of air and semi-liquid causes my cheeks to puff out. The subsequent stream of liquid feces fills my mouth to the brim. A little bit slips out and trickles down my cheeks. It would seem her plan has succeeded. This should deter any sane individual. Nonetheless, my perverted side objects. Maintaining eye contact with Emma as she pushes these feces into my mouth creates the ultimate toilet humiliation. She voluntarily defecated in my mouth to degrade me. I experience an intense orgasm developing in my groin. A pressurized surge of semen, stemming from the frustration of the past few days, overwhelms me. The pleasure exceeds the repulsive background taste of feces still occupying my mouth. Emma tenses. She reaches for her lower back with one hand. She withdraws it and eyes the string of semen between her fingers before looking at me.
"Jesus Christ, you genuinely enjoyed that? You liked it that much?"
A shred of disgust flickers across her face before she can regain composure. She calmly says
"Please just clean me quickly. I need to escape this stench."
I gulp down the toxic liquid and comply, half in ecstasy and half embarrassed. As I clean, the semen dribbles from her thigh onto my forehead, still warm. She stands, closes the lid, and departs. I hear the shower operating shortly thereafter. As the post-climax understanding takes hold, an unsettling thought occurs. Did I just surpass the threshold? I am left to ponder, with the taste of her feces in my mouth and my cum on my forehead - vivid mementos of the recent events.
I must have fallen asleep at some point since I'm roused by delicate kicks to my head. I barely open one eye to observe Emma holding her phone like a flashlight in one hand and mouthwash in the other.
"Sorry, I forgot before and then dozed off on the couch. It must have been terrible to maintain that taste in your mouth..." I perceive her mind revisiting the moment her plan went wrong "...I guess."
She pours a large amount of mouthwash into my mouth "Here, rinse. I need to pee."
She sits, but in the gloom she misses my mouth, pushing my nose against her ass. "Sorry" she laughs and takes a step back. My nose glides on her dry pussy until it reaches my open mouth and she expels a few drops. As the trained toilet she unintentionally made of me, I begin licking her clean without any instruction.
"I guess this was the last of my pee you'll consume. " She hesitates for a beat "I am uncertain I want to know how that affects you. Let me release you so we can go to bed."
She stands and looks at me through the white oval "You can remove this yourself. I'll let you know when I feel prepared to kiss again."
She goes. I take a moment to relish the final moments of my birthday wish. I savor this now familiar thought as I consider the white rim. Ultimately, I shift the chair to the side, erasing the last piece of my porcelain form before standing up as a human.
Read also:
- Step-Mother's Spectrum of Intimacy, Sequel 2
- Gathering at Dan's Residence: Slutty Spouse VI
- Fathers and Daughters: Volume 5
- I Recently Had to Sleep with Dad
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