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“Good thing we left early. We need gas,” Angela told her husband, Kurt. He grunted, not happy with the announcement, but taking it in stride. He was nervous. His kid brother was going to propose to his girlfriend tonight, and he’d invited the whole gang out to witness it. So, they were on their way to a posh drinking spot – formal ware required. So, Angela was in a beautiful blue silk evening gown, and Kurt was in a fancy black tie affair he’d had to rent.
She pulled into the gas station. It was really more of a truck stop then a gas station. At any rate, the store was closed at this time of night, and there wasn’t an attendant, but all the lights were on, the pumps were running, and the restrooms were unlocked. It was a filthy place generally, and seemed a dangerous sort of place to go at night, especially for a woman by herself. But it was the only gas station for miles and miles along their prospective route, so it would have to do.
Angela got out, and handed the keys over to Kurt. “I need to use the ladies room,” she told him.
“Uh… not really a good place for that,” Kurt responded, worried, “Can you wait?”
“Nope. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Um… Do you want me to go into the stall with you? Or I can wait outside if you prefer, after checking that there isn’t some degenerate hanging out inside.”
“Aww…. You’re so sweet. I think I’ll be fine though. I’ll scream if I need you, ok? Why don’t you pump, while I’m in the ladies room? That way, when I get out, we can scoot on down the road.”
Kurt looked uncertain that it was a good idea, but he relented. What she said did make sense, and he wasn’t going to be all that far away. Just forty feet or so. He got out, and started fishing for his wallet. Angela swept up to him, and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth on her way to the restroom. It’s gonna work, she thought, suppressing a wicked smile on her way to the restroom, thinking of the plan she’d set in motion earlier in the day.
When she got to the restroom, she opened the door. The room was dark and smelled dirty. Piss and dirty pussy, and worse assailed her nose. She fumbled briefly for the light switch, and in a moment, the harsh hum and glare of the bare, overhead fluorescent lights came one. The room was unoccupied. The room was as dirty as it smelled, with black marked tile floors, dried piss stains, and a sink that looked like something used by a mechanic. Angela quickly walked in, and let the heavy spring shut the door behind her. She locked the door, and went to work. First, she checked to make sure that the attendant had left everything the way she’d specified, when she bribed him earlier in the day. There was no toilet paper, no paper towels, and no seat covers. Good. Then she walked a few steps to the sink, and turned both handles on, for both the hot and cold water. Then dropped down to her knees in front of the sink, and found the shut off valves next to the wall. It didn’t take her long to have the water shut off at the wall. She was ready to start.
She pulled up her dress, and pulled down her panties, and sat on the dubiously clean surface of the toilet seat. She suppressed an inner shudder. Women usually “hovered” over public toilet seats, especially ones in restroom like this, and Angela was no exception. But today, with what she had in mind, it wouldn’t make any difference. She had to get used to the idea.
She really did need to use the restroom, and so she did so. First she urinated, and then she moved her bowels. She came close to emptying herself, but left just a little bit ready to go in both the front and back. It had been at least five minutes since she’d come into the restroom. Kurt had to have been finished by now. It was time to do this… or to chicken out.
Angela got up, and then flushed the toilet. She sort of waddled over to the sink, with her panties still pulled taunt between her knees. She looked deeply into her own eyes in the mirror. Her perfectly permed blond hair, done in loops and swirls, almost like prom night again. Her perfect make-up, and bright blue eyes. The dress really made her eyes pop, making them stand out and look bluer then normal. She looked as good as she ever did, and she normally looked pretty nice. She worked hard to maintain her cheerleader physique, exercising nearly everyday, and always watching what she ate.
Kurt, with his dark, curly hair, ever present five o clock shadow, and demeanor that seemed a little dangerous was a perfect compliment to her. Better yet, beyond the shallow appearances, he was a good husband, and they loved each other deeply. But Angela had had some problems with jealousy. Specifically, she was jealous of the porn that he looked at sometimes. It made her feel like she was lacking somehow, that he looked at other women on the internet. Sure, she realized that it was stupid and irrational to be jealous of pictures and movies, but she was. At least he didn’t have a closet full of porn or anything like that. Still, sometimes she’d secretly check his internet history to see what websites he’d been bahis firmaları visiting, and what movies he’d been watching. Most of the time, she didn’t bring up much. He seemed to clear his history on a regular basis. She’d even do searches on his computer to see if he’d downloaded anything, but that always came up blank as well.
It all changed a couple of months ago. He had been up late on the computer, and when he finished, he just sort of stumbled to bed, barely able to walk straight. He’d woken Angela up coming to bed, and she couldn’t believe that he was up so late. The next morning he was almost late to work, but just managed to get out the door in time. Angela only had to work half a day herself, and when she came home, a little after noon, she found that the computer was still on from the night before. Kurt had forgotten to clear his history, and he’d forgotten to close out his hidden folder of porn. Angela couldn’t resist looking, and what she found, shocked her to her core. The normal porn she’d found ran a rang from very tame, to hardcore ass to mouth porn. That wasn’t terribly surprising. He loved Angela’s firm, hear shaped ass, and anal sex was something that they both enjoyed pretty regularly. But in a smaller sub-folder, she found his collection of scat porn. He liked shit.
It was disgusting and horrifying to discover. She wanted to confront him about it, but what would she say? What could he possibly tell her that would make it right in her mind, that he was into something so disgusting. She simply closed his folder, and erased his internet history, and she never brought it up. But it got her mind to working, and she found herself actually disgusted at first to have anything to do with him. Was that something that he’d done with other women, had them shit in his mouth, like so many of his videos were about? Would he actually cheat to get something like that, that he couldn’t get at home?
At first, she found herself pulling away from him. It was a horrible thing, this barrier of secrets between them. But deep inside, she still loved him, and his disgusting kinks didn’t really change who he fundamentally was. There was a cold spell in their relationship, but Angela worked to overcome her revulsion, and rebuild their bond. She was still jealous of course, she always was when he looked at porn, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Well, not unless she confronted him, and laid his secrets bare. And if so, if she did, would he ask her to do those things that he liked in his porn? Could she?
Over the next few months, never breathing a word to him about it, or letting him see her dark explorations, she started to experiment with the kinds of things that she’d seen in his porn. She started to seek out the sort of porn that he liked, to know what she was up against. She started slow, simply by letting a finger trail along her shit while she expelled it, or by looking at it before cleaning up. Weeks later, she was shitting into her hands, or onto paper towels, or a plate instead of in the toilet itself. She eventually even started to experiment with smearing herself with her excrement. It was disgusting, but there was a place deep inside of her that reveled in the depravity, that was aroused by it. She was doing this all for him, preparing herself to become what he yearned for, but couldn’t bring himself to ask for. The idea made her heart pound, the disgusting levels to which she was willing to go for her beloved husband.
She braced herself, and over the course of several weeks, had actually gotten herself to the point where the taste and smell of her own waste in her mouth didn’t make her want to throw up. She couldn’t swallow much and keep it down, but just having it in her mouth wasn’t much of a challenge. She was ready for him. Ready for whatever he would want to do to her. The only problem was, that she couldn’t bring herself to actually talk to him about it. It was too gross, too perverse, too taboo. What if he liked fantasizing about it sometimes, liked looking at it, but actually couldn’t or wouldn’t go through with something like that in real life? What if he judged her poorly for it? What she needed, was a way to breach the subject without it seeming like one of them was a pervert. She’d tried simply being less fastidious with her hygiene, of leaving her ass just a little dirty on nights when she thought that they might make love. He never said a word about it, and so the subject of her dirtiness never came up at all, but she noticed that he did take extra care and extra enjoyment with licking her ass on those occasions. On the other hand, he seemed to take extra care not to go ass to mouth when she was dirty, perhaps afraid that she’d revolt at the taste, or be disgusted that he was turned on by what she should find disgusting.
So, she had come up with this plan, a way to force things along. She was looking at herself in the mirror, and she shook a little. The next few minutes would be terrifying. They could break the marriage if things didn’t work out right. But, in all likelihood, they’d give kaçak iddaa them both what they wanted. It would give Kurt the disgusting scat sex he was looking for. And it would give Angela the pleasure and knowledge that she could give him the ultimate sacrifice.
She reached down, and pulled her panties off entirely. She laid them down on the dirty, but dry, sink. Then she pulled off her evening dress. It left her wearing nothing but her sexy stockings, and high heals. The dress, she carefully hung up on the coat hook on the restroom’s door. Make or break, it was time to start.
Angela walked to the door, and unlocked it. Tentatively, she opened the door a crack, and peeked out. She saw Kurt near the car, looking impatiently at his watch. In a genuinely nervous voice, she called out, “Kurt! Honey!”
His head snapped up instantly, and he looked at her with a puzzled look. “I need you. Come here!” She waved him over. His look quickly transformed from puzzlement to concern, and he trotted quickly over.
He got to the still cracked door, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, both from the deception, but also from the shear embarrassment of the situation. She instantly wished that she had never come up with this crazy plan, and wished there was a way to call this all off. But what alternative was there?
“Um… there’s no toilet paper. I can’t wipe. Do you have anything?” She knew that he didn’t normally keep anything like that in his pockets anyway. There just wasn’t room for a man to carry anything that they might need in a few pockets, and with the big event tonight, he’d slimmed down to the bare minimum.
He shook his head. “Uh… do you really have to wipe? I mean, if you only peed, it’s not a big deal, right?”
She grimaced, and felt her cheeks burn. “I… yeeah. I didn’t just pee.”
“Maybe there’s something in the car? Your purse?”
She pursed her lips, and shook her head. “No. I cleaned it all out today. Just a tiny clutch, and not even a napkin in there.”
“Well, um…. maybe I can figure something out. Can I come in?”
She opened the door, standing brazenly under the bright fluorescent, as he walked in, her perky breasts, and shapely legs briefly visible to anyone that might be out in the dark watching, her only clothes the black hose and heals she was wearing. Then she let the door shut, and slid the heavy slide bolt home. “There’s nothing in here,” she said, “Not even any trash.”
“Well… okay, why don’t you sit down on the toilet, backwards?”
Her eyebrows arched, and she sucked her lips into her mouth nervously, but did as he said. As she sat down, she could feel the dirtiness where she hadn’t been able to wipe when she defecated earlier. Her cheeks burned in shame now, and she couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this. It was both humiliating, and disgusting. It was dishonest too.
Kurt tried the sink, but found no water came out. He sighed loudly, and leaned back against the wall, looking at his wife in profile. Her perfect hair and make up, her sexy hose, and high heels. The harsh light actually made her skin look milky white. She looked up at him with burning cheeks, and said, “I don’t know what to do. We can’t miss your brother’s proposal. We don’t really have time to go all the way back home so I can change, and then head out again…”
“Now, don’t cry… I don’t want you to mess up your make up. You’re beautiful, and I don’t want to mess that up. Actually, you’re sexy as all hell, straddling that toilet backwards like that, just in your thigh highs and heals. If the situation was different, I’d press you up against the wall, and take you hard, if you’d let me. But right now, we just need to get you cleaned up, so we can hit the road. I’ve… I’ve, um, got an idea. It’s really gross, but I think it’s the only thing we can do right now.”
She got a hopeful look on her face, and just looked up at him.
“I can… um,” his voice faltered for a moment, and he closed his eyes, and pushed his breath out quickly, took a sharp breath, and forced the words out before they could catch in his throat, “I can lick you clean.”
It was what she was hoping he’d say. She sighed, folded her arms on the top of the toilet’s tank, and laid her head down. “Okay. But you might want to take your pants off first. You don’t want to get your pants dirty.”
“Um… right.” As she listened to Kurt take his pants slowly off, her skin pebbled in goosebumps, and not from the cold. Her nipples stiffened, and she could already feel herself becoming aroused. He was going to do the nastiest thing any man had ever done to her, far worse than going down on her when she was on her period. She’d tasted her own waste before, and knew it wasn’t exactly pleasant. That he loved her enough to do this… it made her want to do anything for him. Or maybe he was just doing this because it was a long seated, unattainable fantasy of his. It probably didn’t matter, but she told herself that it was love that had him on his knees behind her, and his kaçak bahis hot, moist breath on her naked cheeks.
His soft, warm hands found her cheeks, and spread them further. She arched her back to try to give him better access. Then she felt his lips on her, kissing gently, yearning, first on one cheek, and then on the other. He kissed her like that often before licking her back there, or kissed her thighs in a similar fashion before going down on her. Then she felt his tongue licking, gently working at the edge of her filth. He pulled back a moment, and he wondered if he was fighting to keep from gagging, or if he was going to spit her waste from his mouth. But then his moist, gentle mouth returned to her, and he hardly pulled away at all again. Instead, he worked diligently, carefully, lapping at her unclean hole. His greedy tongue even squirmed and wiggled, trying to gain entry into her back door. She didn’t suppress the sighs, shudders, or small moans that came to her. It was like being eaten out for the first time again, that nervousness, wondering how awful it might be for him, but he never stopped until the job was done.
He finally finished, and pulled away, saying nothing. She lifted her head up again, and then lifted a leg up and around the tank, so both legs were on the same side of the toilet. She spun slowly around on the toilet until she was seated in the normal fashion. He was standing, facing away from her, getting read to pull his rented tuxedo slacks off of the wall.
“Thank you,” she murmured quietly. He said nothing, and started to pull the pants down. She intuited that something was wrong. She stood, and took a few steps toward him. She hugged him from the back and kissed his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…” he said.
“Don’t be all quiet and start shutting down on me,” she said, “Something’s bothering you.”
“I… um… sorry, couldn’t help it. Please, don’t think I’m a freak.” The last almost came out as him pleading. He turned slightly, and looking down, she could see his erection straining at his boxer briefs.
She turned him fully around, and pressed him against the wall. She looked him straight in the eyes, unflinching. “No other man would have done that for me. Just you. I love you, so, so much. I just want you to know that. And to know that I don’t think you’re a freak.”
She leaned up, pressing against him, and kissed him deeply on the mouth. His mouth tasted far more strongly of ass than any other kiss she’d ever had from him, but it wasn’t overpowering. It was almost erotic.
She reached down and freed his erection, pulling his underwear down a bit, to where the elastic band was caught beneath his large, firm balls. She ran her small hand up and down over his shaft, occasionally giving him a firm squeeze as they continued to kiss with open mouths, with tongues flirting with one another. She found his tongue her mouth, and she sucked it seductively, a stand in for his cock, and she didn’t care that it was still slightly dirty and likely stained brown. She teased the head of his cock, and rubbed his pre-cum all over the spongy head of it.
Then she finally pulled away, breathless, and deeply aroused. Angela took a few backward steps, and sat down on the toilet, facing him. She didn’t need to speak. He knew what she wanted.
He stepped up to her, and she leaned forward, to take his member deep into her mouth. She sucked on thick girth for several minutes, letting it get sopping wet, letting her spit run down his length in a messy blowjob, feeling the spongy head and veiny shaft run in and out of her mouth and lips enough times to where she was starting to loose fine sensation of what at any moment was passing in or out of her. When she finally pulled away, she gave him a smouldering look.
“I want you in my ass,” she said. He gasped, and his eyes widened. She stood, and he backed out of her way. She turned around and sat back down on the toilet, with her back toward him. “I loved how it felt when you were licking me. That’s where I need you Kurt. I need you inside me.”
She heard him spit, and then he squatted down behind her. She felt that spongy cockhead against her tightest entrance, pushing gently to enter. She moaned gently as the shaft started to push in, past her resistance. She shivered in the pleasure and slight pain of feeling him push into her.
He only managed to get it about half way into her before the resistance became too much to continue forward. He pulled it mostly out, and then pushed it back in again. He slow fucked her as her body got used to his familiar girth, and loosened up to let him take her in her most forbidden hole. With the awkward angle, he had hold of the handicap rail with one hand, and to the sink with the other. She clung to the tank as he fucked her.
Her pussy was wet, and her clit throbbed as he fucked her, but she didn’t touch herself. She could never remember being so excited as this, as this filthy, nasty fucking that they did with such caring, and she was starting to wonder if she might be able to come without any direct stimulation. Either way, she was happy to be used like this. She’d used him, lied to him, tricked him into licking her shitty ass clean, and so anything that he did to her now was fair game.
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