Days in Rodanthe Pt. 03

Once she calmed down, Za'ana stood and faced me. She had almost as much shit on her as I did. From her knees up to her eyes, she was smeared with brown in patterns similar to those created when waxing a car. Her black hair was plastered around her face by sweat, and to her collarbone on one side, stuck in a piece of clinging, mashed turd. Trails of wet, brown slime ran down her chin and under the necklace, which was caked with shit as well. Her stomach, navel filled with feces, and chest undulated quickly as she breathed heavily. Suddenly Za'ana yanked on the back of the chair until I was at an angle, and she could straddle one of the arms, one foot on the floor and her other leg resting on top of my forearm. Her inner thigh was warm and moist. One of her gorgeous tits was just out of reach of my mouth.

"You've been obsessed with my breasts ever since the beach house," she said, out of breath, pulling outward on a crap-coated nipple with her stained fingers, nails no longer glossy, obscured by dull glaze of fecal matter. "I saw you looking at them the first day, and you shit your pants just so I would reveal them, didn't you, Robert? You're such a sick bastard! Did you think about them as you masturbated, after I left? Have you enjoyed staring at them all this week, you pervert?"

"Yes I did and yes, they're beautiful."

"I bet you would love to suck them wouldn't you? Imagine them in your mouth, your tongue caressing and lips surrounding it..." She tugged and twisted teasingly, then retrieved some shit out of my lap, wiped it on the top surface of her tit and covered the nipple. A stiff blob hung precariously off the end. She wiped the excess crap off her hand by yanking on my throbbing dick several times.

"Beg for my breast, you panty-ass crybaby nasty boy!" She spat in my eye.

"Please let my suck your tits, Za'ana, Please!" I said, back to using only a single eye, spit running down my cheek.

"Again!"

I repeated myself twice, with more than one extra 'please' and ended with "I want to suck them so bad." I was literally bouncing slightly as I whined.

Finally she stuck one of her turd-covered, handful-sized tits in mouth, and my cock jolted upward happily. Her nipple and wrinkled, bumpy areola were stiff, dense and rubbery, and the biggest I had ever had in my mouth, the size of the end of one of my fingers. My tongue circled around as I noisily alternated nibbling and sucking as hard as I could, the morsels of shit long gone down my throat.

As a double treat, I felt her hand, slick with spit-thinned crap, begin to jerk on my cock. I moaned her name with blissful pleasure.

"Tell me when you are close to your orgasm," she said, "I don't want to miss it."

She pulled her tit, now the cleanest area on her body, away to switch sides, made me beg again, and resumed yanking on my cock. The introduction of a fresh, stiffened, shit-covered nipple in my mouth brought me close to shooting.

"I'm coming!" I said out the side of my ecstatically occupied mouth, out of breath..

Za'ana immediately took her hand away and backpedaled, leaving my brown coated dick pointing at the ceiling at an angle, throbbing rapidly, and my mouth empty. She raised her open hand to shoulder level, and I could see her palm and rings were dull with a brown coating.

"Are you ready for your dripping orgasm? Beg for it, you shit eating bastard!" She continued to yell for me to beg her as the sadistic beauty smacked and backhanded my gunky face at least half a dozen times, creating more brown rain that landed on both my shoulders and the floor beyond.

"Please let me come, Za'ana, please!" My cock was aching, and it felt like it was already leaking a little white sample. My face stung from her slaps.

Suddenly I cried out loudly as pain seared up the side of my swollen, stiff dick. I looked down and Za'ana's middle finger was coiled up and held back by her thumb, ready to flick my cock again. The threat against my helpless dick was the final stimulus, and jizz began to flood out of my pee hole. A shockwave of sorts went through my body as her finger painfully grazed the head, and the semen shot out nearly a foot in the air, catching her off guard as she rushed to catch it in her hand. I shook as the built-up load intensely coursed out with pulse after pulse. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears over my moans, like when awakening from a nightmare.

"Here. Lick your mess off," she said, shoving a sperm-coated palm onto my mouth, open from being out of breath. I spent the next minute slurping the warm, beige, feces- tinted semen off her fingers as she commented that I didn't suffer enough torment on the verge of my orgasm. The remaining jizz trickled down my stomach, cutting a path through the smeared crap and into my pubes.

Afterward the beautiful, naked, shit-plastered woman took a plastic spoon from off a shelf, broke a section of the top off, then lowered the sharp edge down to my nuts, poking them, nearly hard enough to draw blood, several times as she laughed and I squirmed and voiced my discomfort. After a dozen jabs or so, she used it like a knife to slice the plastic tape off my extremities and chest. Finally freed, I stood and stretched, pausing to help her remove her necklaces, which ended up in a pile on the edge of the sink. In a few moments my ruined shirt was off and we were standing in the dry tub, with the white curtain closed around us. We looked like members of some primitive tribe, tan all over, with ceremonial markings all over our bodies, courtesy of Za'ana's colon. She squatted in front of me, and took my soft, sore dick between her thumb and forefinger.

"Piss Robert!"

No problem there, I needed to go for the last hour. I relaxed and felt a warm spray as she waved my dick all over like a celebratory champagne bottle, directing some in her mouth and then soaking both of us, giving a new gloss to our shit spray tans. I was then told to lie in the tub, and sat in a puddle of sepia-tinted urine. I loved the view of her athletic curves from below. I was only partially reclined when she released her full bladder from between those beautiful, brown-caked labia, soaking me from face to knees as she thrust her hips around, giggling loudly.

Next, we stood and kissed again for a minute or so as the flavor of her salty piss lingered, its freshness temporarily overpowering the dull taste of the shit, which always lurked in my mouth with the intensity of burnt, gas station-quality black coffee. Afterward I got the treat of shampooing her hair and soaping her entire body, head to toe, no restrictions. I took my time with her awesome tits and ass. She even had me insert soapy fingers into her pussy and butthole. Of course this all made my cock hard again, but she ignored it, and stepped out as soon as the last of the suds were rinsed off, right before the hot water ran out. She dried off and brushed her teeth for about fifteen minutes, and then cleaned her jewelry with another toothbrush for just as long, as I took the first of two cold showers I would take that night. The second one came after I spent over an hour cleaning the splattered walls, floor and chair with supplies she had apparently pilfered from the housekeeper.

I emerged from the bathroom and received an invite into the bed with her, where she wore a clingy, sheer white nightgown. I drifted off to sleep as she spooned behind me, mumbling about her 'nice guy'.

2

The next day, Tuesday, began with her remaining in the same sheer nightgown as we drank our coffee and tea out on the deck in the morning sun, where she had me stand behind her and brush her wavy black hair and taught me how to give her a manicure and pedicure, shaping then painting her nails in a sparkling mint green. Until then I had only painted R/C cars, but it was nice holding her extremities while I pampered her. After that we went into the bathroom and I spread the smelly hair removal foam on her legs, armpits, and pubic mound, then helped her rinse it off. Then I got a lesson in how to apply her eye makeup, which was a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. The day only got better as we ventured out to the nude beach once more. Her public persona was again that of a flirtatious, clingy but sophisticated girlfriend, enjoying her vacation. That night after dinner, we stopped at a bar, and Za'ana got pretty drunk. I was surprised that she let down her guard, as she usually tried to be so dignified. Once she had staggered out of the taxi and into our cabin, she demanded I meet her in the bathroom, naked. I stood and waited, with no idea of exactly what she had planned, but my dick began to grow as I thought about the possibilities.

She shuffled in, wearing only the leopard print bra and panties that had lurked under her clothes at dinner. I only knew what underwear Za'ana had worn because she lifted her black cocktail dress to flash me on the way home in the taxi. Most of her hair was now gathered into a sloppy pony tail, high and askew on the back of her head. Strangely, Za'ana carried an open bottle of soda from the mini-fridge and a plastic covered cushion that came from the seat of one of the metal deck chairs. She dropped the cushion to the floor, fell to her knees and grabbed my semi-hard cock. She took a slug of the cola, which surprised me since she usually drank diet drinks. I realized she must have wanted the sugary soda for a reason as the sticky suction of her hot wet mouth fully hardened my meat in seconds. I moaned loudly and said her name twice as I watched the crooked part on the top of her head move back and forth. Her pony tail and earrings swung as she sucked loudly on my appreciative dick, looking up at me occasionally. After a minute of this ecstasy she stopped and let out a muffled laugh, yanked harshly on my nuts and rose up to kiss me, pressing my cock between our stomachs. My tongue never left my mouth as hers was clearly in charge, almost angrily suppressing mine. She guided one of my hands to her tit and I massaged it thoroughly, fingering her stiff nipple through the thin, stretchy material. Our kiss ended with two slaps across my cheek and what was probably an insult in one of her languages.

Za'ana grabbed the seat cushion and placed it at the end of the tub opposite the faucet. Barking slurred instructions and guiding me with her hands, she had me lie on the cushion, face up, my back against the end wall of the tub with my legs in the air and suspended out over my face so I formed a letter C. It was like the time during our first encounter when I shot a load onto my own face with a carrot up my ass. The cushion at least let me lean my head back and kept my chin from being jammed into my chest. My face felt flushed as the blood ran to my head. I had a great view of my knees, hairy thighs and the underside of my hanging dick and balls, with the white paneled ceiling beyond. She kneaded and smacked my ass a couple times, then left me alone for a minute or so. She returned, leaned in, her face between my thighs, smiling her beautiful smile, before spitting on my cheek and mumbling some insult.

I could smell the cola and liquor in her spit as it drained past my nose. To my surprise, Za'ana squatted in the small space between the wall and the rounded end of the claw footed iron tub, her face hovering over my asshole. Only her head and shoulders were visible to me beyond my hairy nuts.

"Beg for me to play with your zzztinking, nazzsty man hole!" she said, slurring her words and taking another gulp of the soda.

She didn't wait for me to finish my first whining sentence before latching her cola-coated mouth onto my rectum. I stopped begging to moan, as her slick, strong tongue felt terrific. I wanted to flex my sphincter as a show of appreciation, but was afraid gas would escape in this bottoms-up position. She farted and belched in my face routinely even if I was asleep on the couch or we were just hanging around the cabin, but I didn't dare attempt it myself.

I looked up to see Za'ana's beautiful face, eyelids a little low, spit toward my hole and then suck on her middle finger. She flipped me off, laughed, and with it still straightened, inverted it and began to slip the glistening digit into my asshole. I knew there would soon be no way to retain the gas that had bubbled upward past the turds that were gathered in my large intestine. The shit was my first solid feeling product since her invasion with the strap-on two nights before. My moans of pleasure, a reaction to her probing my rectum ever deeper with her wiggling, wet finger, were interrupted by her shocking solution to my dilemma.

"Let me have your dizzz-gusting bowels, Robert!" she said, as if she was accepting a dare. "Everything!" One shoulder was rhythmically flexing, indicating she had started massaging her clit.

I was surprised she wanted my shit up close, since she usually kept it at arms length, such as the windy rooftop deck in Carolina or neutralizing the odor of my enema by blasting her own all over me first. Maybe she needed to be drunk for this. So, I relaxed and let the rumbling farts fly. I could see Za'ana turn away, then force herself back into their wake, wincing, crying out and cursing, her breaths shallow. She spat into my crevice and I felt my asshole spread and willingly embrace a second finger. Both her tanned shoulders, accented only by the black straps of the leopard print bra, were in motion now, one for her clit and the other with the elbow raised, her fingers flexing and rotating in my receptive anus.

"Show me your nazzty maird, you fucking bazztard!" she demanded, her eyes focused on my ass. Her two fingers began to rapidly fuck my hole, her palm slapping my cheek as they hit bottom. Her earrings flailed about, as she seemed to really be into her masturbation down below.

I pushed the turds upward as best I could, fighting gravity. Progress was slow, as her invading fingers kept pulverizing and pushing most of the crap back down the tunnel. Finally I was apparently successful as Za'ana squealed, yanking her two fingers out and seeing them coated in shining, sepia-colored shit. I couldn't tell if the squeal was one of delight or shock, as she closed her eyes and used her tanned forearm to cover her nostrils. She turned her head away and yelled angrily in what sounded like Russian, no doubt in complaint of the smell, a combination of swamp and rotten eggs. Her attention then turned back to my asshole, which felt like it was erupting with warm, soft, formless shit, based on the feeling of it traveling down my crack and surrounding the base of my balls.

Suddenly all I could see beyond my nuts was the top of her head, and I felt her face buried in my groin, frantically pressing down and roving around. Za'ana made a variety of noises, crying out, moaning and breathing deeply and loudly. I felt her fingers, tongue and lips in my crack, along the base of my nuts and thighs, yanking on pubes as she seemed to be gathering and swallowing my mushy, stinking shit in noisy, labored gags and gulps.

After I had squeezed out what I could, I felt air on my coated crotch as her gorgeous, shit-mottled face came into view. My loose, glistening excrement was barely darker than my girlfriend's tanned skin, and was smeared and dripping from her cheekbones down to her chin and nearly to each ear on the side. Her sliver hoop earrings dripped with feces, and despite her attempt to keep her hair out of the mess with the ponytail, the lower few inches of it were shiny and matted with crap as well. Za'ana's masturbating arm was furiously at work, and her lips and teeth, coated in brown, remained parted as she looked at the ceiling, making the short hiccupping grunts that usually proceeded her orgasms. Trails of liquid shit began to run down her neck, and she was almost in a bizarre, zombie-like trance as she slid out from behind the tub. She reached out to grasp the wall for balance as she rose to her feet, leaving a gooey handprint of crap on the white enameled wood paneling.

Standing but leaning forward, I could see her from the thighs up, and a considerable bulge was present in her panties, below her rapidly massaging hand. At first I thought she had filled them with her own shit again, but the protrusion was flat-ended and cylindrical, and I realized she had stuffed herself with the latex dildo, freed from its harness. I hadn't noticed that she brought it with her, and I wondered if my dick would ever make it into her pussy, which was now making her tanned thighs shine with moisture. Her hairline and upper body glistened with sweat as well. Blobs of brown mush formed a necklace of sorts and oozed down into the gentle valley of cleavage the bra created while cradling her quivering tits, nipples lumpy and stiffened with arousal. Za'ana pushed the panties down with her shit smeared hand, allowing them and the embedded latex dick, shining with her juices, to slowly fall to the floor. With the same dirtied hand she yanked a tit out from beneath the cup of the bra and yanked and stretched it away from her body, then, to my surprise, smacked it, sending a brown spray airborne. The exotic woman, one tit exposed, then had a succession of loud, convulsing orgasms as she alternated rubbing her clit and harshly slapping her pussy.

Once her spasms were over, Za'ana slipped her tit back into the bra as she bent down to face me. She smiled and made kissing motions, then spat onto my face, hitting my forehead, then dropped to her knees beside the tub next to my ass. I saw both her hands move in the direction of my shit-plastered hole and I moaned and spoke her name as an increasing number of fingers slid into me. The pressure on my anal ring increased and I cried out as I saw both her elbows bent and elevated, and realized she was using what I guessed were three fingers from each hand, back to back, to widen my opening. Intervals of sustained outward pressure several seconds long were followed by painful jerks in various directions as I grunted in protest. My hips, stiff dick and balls jolted around as her biceps and deltoids flexed.

"Do you like being my bitch, Robert?" She looked down at me.

"Yes, I love it!" I said, looking into her gorgeous dark eyes.

"We have to work on ssstretching you," she said, slurring her words a little less, turning to look down at me, smiling with her sweaty, shit smeared face. "This summer you will need to spend entire days with a large vegetables in your rectum, because I want you to be able to take my entire hand!" She held up a fist, knuckles angled and thumb forward as if in a tennis grip, three of her fingers and shiny green nails dripping with brown goop. She used the thumb and coated brown forefinger of her other hand to encircle the tip of the fist, then quickly pushed her hand through the opening, nearly halfway to her elbow. Watery brown liquid rained off them as she graphically demonstrated the extreme diameter changes that my anus would experience.

"Okay!" I said, unable to mask my unexpected enthusiasm. For some reason, I never thought about her fistfucking me. My dick twitched as I thought about Za'ana's limb plowing deep inside me, as if she had grown a giant cock. It would be part of her, not a sex toy, where she could actually feel me surround her, to a much greater extent than her tongue or fingers. My stomach leapt with adrenaline at the idea of the painful, risky, sustained effort needed to make the degrading, very submissive act possible. While her boney fist was luckily longer than it was wide, and about three quarters the size of mine, it would still take a substantial opening to accommodate it. I hoped she would see how much I loved her by willingly undergoing such an agonizing, permanent, physical alteration to my body.

Za'ana reached over to take a few gulps of the cola, getting shit all over the label and mouth of the bottle. She suddenly stood, the latex cock in one hand, and stepped into the tub, her foot next to my head, then placed her other foot on the edge of the white, high-sided iron bathtub, giving me a terrific view of her glistening pussy.