Natalia Kapretti - Im waiting, toilet, eat my shit

Natalia Kapretti approached her bathroom with excitement, her gut churning and her legs feeling heavy with anticipation. She loved these mornings when she got to see her dear toilet bowl; her faithful companion who she knew would be waiting for her. As she opened the door, the cool air hit her warm, damp skin and she let out a sigh of pleasure. Her toilet bowl was hers and hers alone, and today would be no different.

She undid her pants, letting them fall to the floor, and stepped out of her panties. Her rounded ass was smooth and pale, glistening with sweat in the early morning light. Gently, she caressed her left cheek, feeling the warmth of the feces from her last shit still clinging to her skin. She took a deep breath, savoring the intoxicating aroma of her own shit, and lowered herself onto the cold porcelain of her toilet bowl.

She placed her hands behind her back, ready to feel the coolness embrace her as she shit. And shit she did. A small turd slid out of her anus, leaving a slick trail of mucus behind. It plopped into the waiting water beneath her, causing ripples to spread outwards. As she pushed harder, a larger turd slipped out, followed by several smaller ones. Soon, the water was murky and full of her warm, sticky excrement.

Feeling satisfied, Natalia leaned back, her weight supported by her arms. She loved this feeling of emptiness, of being completely and utterly filled by her own shit. It was a sensation like no other. Her toilet bowl was a part of her, and she was a part of it. They were one.

She raised her head, letting her hair fall forward to block her view of the filth below. Slowly, she brought her hand up, covered in shit, and touched her lips. It was time for her toy to clean her up. She knew he would be eager, ready to please her with his tongue and lips. She sat up straight, her breasts swaying slightly as she leaned forward, offering herself to him.

A moment later, she felt his lips touch her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her. She moaned softly, arching her back as he began to lick the shit from her body. It was exquisite torture, knowing that he was devouring her waste without a single hint of disgust. She reached down, feeling the cool smoothness of the porcelain under her fingers, and guided him closer. She wanted more, needed more of his undivided attention.

He didn't disappoint her. His tongue darted between her fingers, exploring every inch of her skin. She could feel it on the insides of her thighs, on her tummy, even on her breasts. His hands were as devoted as his tongue, massaging her body and leaving behind trails of shit and smeared skin. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations washing over her. This was what she lived for. This was her addiction, her toilet bowl.

As the morning wore on, Natalia and her toilet bowl continued their ritual. She shat until she was exhausted, her legs trembling from the effort of holding her weight up. And he cleaned her, loving every moment of it. This was their bond, their connection. They were two souls intertwined, mingling their love for each other and their love for the filth that bound them together. It was perfect, it was beautiful, it was theirs alone. And they knew they would do it again tomorrow, and the day after that, and for as long as they both shall live.

Until then, they relished in their shared messiness, their shared deviancy. They were a great pair, inseparable and complete. The scent of shit and the taste of each other's flesh mingled together in a symphony of depravity. And as Natalia finally stood up, her legs trembling, she knew that her toilet bowl was proud to be her plaything, her toy, and her treasure. They had conquered the world, together.