Natalia Kapretti - Every morning Im fisting husband with shit

Every morning, I wake up to the sound of my slave-husband's whimpers. He's been trained to expect nothing less than the intense pleasure and humiliation that comes from being fisted in his big, warm ass by his loving wife. As I crawl out of bed and stretch, the scent of his unwashed body mixed with the rich aroma of yesterday's shit fills my nostrils, making my pussy tingle in anticipation. I snap my fingers, and my slave obediently rolls over on the filthy mattress, presentation alley between his spread legs displaying the dark, gaping hole that will soon be filled with my fist.

I kneel between his legs, savoring the sight of his eagerly anticipating asshole, and reach for the nearby bucket of warm, fresh shit. Smearing some of the slippery gloop onto my hand, I rub it into my skin, feeling it warm and squishy against my palm. Then, without further ado, I plunge my fist deep into his ass, feeling the soft protestations of his sphincter as he's stretched to accommodate my invading fist. Once I'm settled in to the hilt, I start working my other hand up and down the length of his cock, feeling it pulse and twitch against my palm as he moans and gasps in pleasure.

As I work my husband's cock and bottom with practiced ease, I can't help but marvel at the intense sensations coursing through my body. The smell of shit wafts through the air, filling up my nostrils and making my mouth water with perverse anticipation. My husband's stomach churns and gurgles as I force his insides to contort themselves around my invading fist, and I take immense pleasure in hearing the sickening slurping sounds that echo around the room. Every so often, I'll reach down and scoop up some of the lewd soup of shit and cum that's gathering beneath his lower back, smearing it all over my body and his limbs before returning to my thigh-numbing fist fucking.

My husband's ass is always such a lovely home for my pistoning fist, and it's comforting to know that he'll be soiled and disgusting before we even start our day. When he finally cums, shooting hot, creamy jets all over the filthy mattress, I grunt in satisfaction and drag my fist out of his ass, using my other hand to massage his prostate one final time. With a groan and a grimace, I withdraw my hands from his body, leaving a thick, glistening coating of shit and sweat in their wake.

As I stand up, my hair and clothes sticking to my body like glue, I look down at my husband, seeing him lying there, arms and legs splayed wide, covered in a thick layer of his own filth. His eyes are half-closed, breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and I find myself thinking how lucky I am to be married to such a pathetic little worm. It's then that I realize that I am, too, covered in the vile layer of shit and cum that we've both so meticulously crafted, and a smile spreads across my face. "You know what, slave?" I whisper, leaning down to press my shit-covered lips against his ear. "Let's just say that today, we're going to try and be extra discreet when we go out in public." I stand up straight, stretching languidly, and saunter towards the bathroom, certain that my husband will follow me every step of the way.