Days in Rodanthe Pt. 03

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As I sat taped to the white wooden chair wearing only a t-shirt, rubber ball gag in my mouth, and my disappointed soft dick exposed, I hoped whoever was walking into the cabin had come in to rescue me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if a small crowd had gathered outside to watch the nightly sex show. Word had probably spread about the lame, gullible, ankle-grabbing college boy that eats a woman’s shit right out of her panties and gets pounded with a strap-on. Now I was about to suffer one of the worst humiliations, other men she just met getting to fuck her for the first time right in front of me, before I was even given a chance. It reminded me of the time I spent trying to date this one girl, Kristi, I really liked the previous summer. I followed the rules, was respectful to her and wasn’t trying to use her just for sex. After a few dates, it got back to me that Kristi had recently been picked up by some random guy in a bar and had such a good time getting fucked that she had to tell her friends all about it. Now it was if Za’ana could read my mind, or had hacked into my computer, and was expertly toying with my insecurities as well.

If this mystery visitor was actually here to free me, I planned to get the hell off Saint Martin and away from this cruel bitch as fast as I could. Ideally I would be able to swap my plane tickets and make it to Miami while she was busy with the two goons. From there I could take a bus to Lauderdale and drink myself stupid as originally planned. Such thoughts suddenly ceased when I smelled Za’ana’s perfume. She was back, and maybe this was another part of the game. Deep down, I knew I was totally pussy-whipped and couldn’t resist her, and would go crawling back, even after she blatantly fucked other guys.

“Yes it’s me.” she said, but not cheerfully. “I forgot my fucking key for the door. Amir just called and said their plane won’t land until ten fifty-five.” She walked right past me without even looking my way.

Any hope I had faded instantly. Maybe she would release me and I could just leave.

“Fucking lawyers! They are always late.” she said, sounding more Russian than French, her accent emphasizing her irritation. She slammed her purse onto the bed and sat down, adjusting her skirt, avoiding eye contact.

The image of the Middle Eastern beauty sitting halfway up on the bed, long dark legs crossed, black high heels hanging from her toes, silky red top clinging to the peaks of her braless tits as she held the TV remote, blurred as tears filled my eyes. I was miserable, stomach churning and face dripping with snot. I closed my eyes, wishing I was elsewhere, continuing to sniffle. After a few minutes the TV was off and I heard her leave the bed and step towards me. I kept my eyes closed.

“Don’t be such a crybaby,” she said condescendingly. She was right in front of me, based on where her voice was coming from. “So, I see your cock is not hard, Robert. Are you not getting your jolly, ready to watch me act like a horny, desperate whore, just like all men want?”

I felt her fingers on my face as she smeared the snot all over my cheeks. Then thick, warm saliva splattered onto my right eyelid. I heard her spit again, but didn’t feel anything until warm, slick fingers grabbed my chilled, shrunken dick.

“Let me help you jerk your cock, Robert. Does that feel good? You can show Amir and his friend how you will get nice and hard while you watch me fuck them many times like an insatiable slut!”

She tugged ardently, stretching it upward. I heard her spit again and she began rubbing my hairy nuts, coating them thoroughly. The sound of her humming a few notes softly was accompanied by the clinking of her bracelets and necklace.

“Your cock feels very nice, Robert. Maybe someday I will allow you to stick it in mouth again for a few moments, so you will get a sample of what these men will feel tonight when I take their cocks completely down my throat.” She made a slurping noise for emphasis, and a moaning laugh escaped her closed mouth. I realized with my eyes closed I was missing the view of her, bent over in a sexy outfit, giving me the first and maybe the last hand job I would get from her. I could probably have seen down her top and watched her tits flail around as she moved her arm. But I was mad at her and had to resist.

I tried to not show any stimulation, but her ardently yanking fingers quickly made my uncooperative dick hard as a rock. I mean sure, watching people fuck is awesome. I get boners just listening to my roommate go at it with his girlfriend in the dark at my dorm, and I was able to peek at my older brother a few years before as he doggy-styled some naked girl from the bowling alley on the family room sofa when my parents were out of town. I’ll even admit I even clandestinely watched a guy jerking off in the woods at church camp once, then did it myself. If Za’ana had proposed something like this on the first day we met, sure, I might have agreed. But now it was too late, I believed I was in love, and was insanely güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri jealous, and thought I was at least someone special to her. As I slowly began to accept the fact that I was just a plaything, she kept pumping my solid meat, increasing her speed, spitting and switching hand positions frequently.

“Hopefully their first orgasms will be plentiful,” she began with a pleasant tone, taking her hand away from my throbbing dick. Her next words were grunted through a clenched jaw, right into my ear. “so there is enough to coat your fucking face and make you choke as you swallow it, still heated from their testicles!” She harshly grabbed my nuts and began to stretch them outward.

“Open your fucking eyes!” she yelled. “Look at me, you nasty bitch!” She yanked painfully on my nuts and I cried out from behind the gag, lifting my lids to see her beautiful face, brown eyes widened insanely. “I think we will roll you outside tonight so we can piss on you as well!” she said, smiling, and slam dunking my balls onto the wood seat, then slapping me three times.

The chair I was helplessly bound to did have rollers on the four feet, as it belonged with a small desk that sat in the corner of the room. I didn’t think the mobility had a purpose until that moment. Za’ana walked around behind me and pulled the chair, but toward the bathroom. My temples and cheekbones stung from her slaps.

“I’m tired of the sight of you, you fucking disappointment. You will stay in here until they arrive,” she said, flipping the lights on. Her biceps bulged as she pivoted the chair over the threshold onto the shiny sheet vinyl floor. She moved around in front of me and pushed backwards until my back was against the wall and I was in between the toilet and the edge of the tub.

After my little journey, she lifted her skirt and sat on the commode, a pair of tiny red panties around her ankles. She urinated and then stood without wiping, stepping out of the panties and high heels, and hiked the short black miniskirt way up, baring her from the waist down. I looked at her beautiful quivering ass as she quickly backed toward me.

“Here, I’ve got some nice gas for you, masturbating, crybaby bitch!” she said angrily, apparently acting on an afterthought. I would have to smell her stink as well as sit in the bathroom bound and gagged for the next three hours. I guess I was being given a time out.

She had been intentionally belching and farting in the proximity of my nose whenever we were alone since our arrival. I told myself this current gas couldn’t be too bad, just some leftovers, since she said she already crapped this afternoon. The dark haired beauty must have really wanted me to get a close up whiff, as she hopped up backwards and stood on the chair, putting her ass right in my face. She had a heel between my legs, and one foot on the edge of the iron tub for balance. She bent forward at the waist and I had a terrific close up view of her asshole and fleshy pussy, glistening with drops of piss. Her supple, perfumed butt cheeks felt awesome as they pushed my head back into the wall. I felt a finger slip between the belt of the ball gag below my ear, so she could control the direction I faced. I readied myself for her toxic flatulence, which would replace the fragrance drifting from her vagina.

I heard a grunt, but no fart. There was a squishing noise, and my eyes instantly closed as a very warm, moist, sticky turd surrounded the bridge of my nose. The smell was repulsive, with a broccoli and garlic undertone. I gagged and my traitor dick twitched with joy as I realized this was a sneak attack and she was going to shit all over me. I couldn’t turn away because of her grip on the ball gag. Za’ana cursed angrily in multiple languages as she began to grind her ass around on my face in all directions, sliding and bouncing, mashing and spreading the stinking shit her asshole was noisily squirting out. Blobs slid off my chin and were soon replaced by more. I also heard Za’ana breathing quickly and her bracelets rattling constantly; she must have been rubbing her clit, getting nice and wet for the two lucky dicks that were on their way. I managed to open one eye after the half minute-long assault, and watched her cheeks jiggle as she stepped off her perch.

Za’ana had cocoa-brown mush, only a couple shades darker than her tan skin, smeared all over her ass, surrounded by a thicker border ring. There were large smudges on her heel, upper thighs, wrist, lower back and on the edge of the black skirt and red top, victims of her enthusiasm. Her crack, despite her effort to use my nose as a cleaning tool, was packed with feces. When her thighs were parted, it looked like she even had some crap clinging to her pussy lips.

She backed toward me again, standing on the floor but bent forward, her ass hovering over my crotch. The gas she promised finally arrived in the form of a loud, flapping wet fart, accompanied by a couple squirts of thick, yellowish, translucent brown goo that güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri landed on my stiff dick and formed strings that momentarily spanned the distance between her coated, pouting rectum and the red head of my throbbing meat. Her finale was to rub her crack up and down on the knuckles of my restrained hands. Obviously Za’ana had lied about already having taken a dump this afternoon while I was outside on the little beach. This horrific smelling load had to have been everything she retained since her explosive enema last night. The twisted brunette turned around to look at her results, finger briskly rubbing her clit, exposed below the hiked up skirt.

I must have looked like a monster from a bad horror movie, one eye open and my face melting as shit slid down it. I could feel bits of stems and small lumps of roughage present in the mashed turds that covered my forehead and cheeks. My nose felt like it had taken a slight punch and was weighted down with caked crap. Her putrid mush was in my hair, an ear, and all over my lips and the ball gag. My blue 5K run t-shirt was covered with brown, wet trails as flattened pancake turds made their way down to my lap or tumbled onto the chair and floor. Some of it had slipped into my mouth past the gag, creating a bitter juice around my lower teeth. It was getting hard to breathe, and I snorted like a horse, trying to clear my packed nostrils. I gagged and coughed, my face flinging small lumps of shit off in all directions. Migrating nuggets tickled my bare inner thighs as they slid downward. Something brown, shiny and wormlike dangled from the head of my cock and seemed to be moving on its own. I hoped it was an undigested piece of onion, flailing around as my meat throbbed.

“Mmmm! Your cock is nice and hard Robert. You love doing these nasty things! You loved having my bowels smeared all over your face, didn’t you? You’re such a disgusting bastard!” She seemed to be aware she had gotten shit on her clothes and stopped masturbating to pull them off.

With mixed feelings, I nodded my head. It had been thrillingly degrading, but after her announcement of the visitors, my enthusiasm was waning. Usually I can’t take my eyes off her, but I looked down at the floor, even as she stood naked and untangled the red top out of her large necklace, tossed it in the sink, and ran the faucet for a moment to soak her clothes. She left footprints of shit on the beige vinyl floor.

I fully expected to be left there in my current state as she cleaned up for her visitors, but to my shock, Za’ana then stepped over and knelt in front of me. She was so close her arms rested on my splattered hairy thighs and her tits were jammed together on the seat of the chair between my knees. They were nestled in the shit there that had been plowed into a peak due to the movements of my legs. The lower segments of the gold necklace were collecting their share of the brown gunk as well. I watched as her full, dark red, glossy movie star lips opened so wide I could see the tops of her white lower molars. They closed and surrounded my cock, which throbbed beneath the blobs of crap that covered most of its reddish, vein-laced top surface. She grunted as she looked up at me and her warm, wet mouth created a suction that pulled my skin along the shaft. A load moan from both of us preceded a lip-smacking pop as her mouth slid off the head.

My meat was now shiny and almost free of shit, including the viscous last squirt she had landed so accurately. It didn’t last long, as Za’ana drizzled the watered down feces from her extended, pointed tongue back onto the shaft. Her tongue circled around her lips, and brown slime leaked out of her mouth, including the onion string, which fell into my pubes. Her neon yellow nails lined up as her hand surrounded my stiff cock, tugging upward.

“You’re such a silly boy, Robert.” Za’ana said, one hand slowly working my excited dick and the other holding my forearm. She started to slide up my body, twisting her ribcage so each tit’s erect nipple was alternately dragged through the shit between my legs. She stopped halfway to my face, looking up into the one eye I could use. “Do you really think I would squander our time together here for boring, regular sex, with men who have no idea what I require? Do you think I would really go out in public alone, wearing such a revealing outfit, to meet strange men?”

Yes I did, if it meant crushing me emotionally. But I shrugged, realizing she had fucked with my befuddled brain once again. She seemed to be saying that no one was joining us, and maybe she was going to let me fuck her after all. Still, I was skeptical.

“I’m flattered by your devotion, Robert,” she said. I almost looked like her eyes were misting. She quickly snapped out of her romantic trance; there was shit to be wallowed in and eaten, and plenty of it.

Za’ana pushed up my t-shirt as far as it could go, limited by the tape across my chest and upper arms. She continued her upward trek, putting on a güvenilir bahis şirketleri show, gathering handfuls of shit out of my lap and rubbing them on her tits, then grinding them against me, which felt awesome as her hard nipples were dragged in various directions across my dick, thighs and midsection. Her breasts were pliable but had a firm inner core, which I first felt when she hugged me in the dorm. She released her grip on my cock, and it fit nicely in the valley between her tits as she pressed them inward from the sides. Gradually my stiff meat was shoved against my lower stomach by her thigh. The gorgeous brunette reached out and unbuckled the ball gag. I gasped and thanked her as I took in more air. The gag was nearly covered with shit and dripping brown juice from my mouth. She tossed it into the iron tub, the rattle of its metal buckle echoing throughout the bathroom.

“What about the voicemail?” I asked, still slightly suspicious that somebody, like a porn site video crew, may still show up as a surprise. I hadn’t even thought up a stage name yet, maybe Dirk Dungboy, or Jerkoff Jameson.

“Oh, that was two weeks ago, from my brother Hassan. He and his wife flew in from Buenos Aries and their plane was late. We will go visit them this summer! Argentina is simply beautiful. You will love it!”

Well, at least it didn’t seem like I was getting dumped anytime soon. It would take me until summer to clean up anyway.

“Kiss me, my nice guy Robert. Share my bowels!” Za’ana smiled and slid a heaping palm full of corn-impregnated feces into her open mouth and approached my face. She moaned loudly and kissed me forcefully as we crushed and shared the bland, bitter shit, then she paused to scoop more off my face with her teeth and lips. Still leaning against me, her breathing became deep and fast as she rubbed her clit, her wrist pushing my stiff dick aside. The smell of excrement was overwhelming, but after such lengthy exposure it became almost intoxicating, like when one first tasted whiskey or vodka as an adolescent and thought it was awful, but learned to tolerate it and eventually develop a craving in its absence. It was the same with her feces; but the cycle started anew each time and was always awful at the beginning.

“Look how close our genitals are,” she squirmed her hips around, breathing heavily. “So close you could almost insert your circumcised cock into my pussy,” she said, the recesses between her teeth packed with a sepia paste.

There was really no way it would have worked in the position we were in, but I got the point. I had never heard her use the word ‘pussy’ before. Most girls I knew wouldn’t even say it when men are around, and the ones who did said it fast and softly. Za’ana used ‘vagina’ or said vah-jean, or caso-lette, which must be French. She always annunciated the ‘k’ in cock, and now poo-see was another emphatic pronunciation for me to enjoy.

She went on to describe how warm, smooth, and muscular the chamber between her legs was, and how close we were to fucking in Rodanthe had we not been separated so abruptly. We frantically kissed for several minutes, our brown coated tongues twisting and gliding across each other, slinging strings of brown spit in all directions when our mouths opened. Za’ana masturbated furiously, breathing erratically and moaning loudly.

After a few more minutes of writhing together, I realized the brief honeymoon was over as she pulled away, raised a thigh and quickly jammed her knee harshly into my nuts, pushing my stiff meat sideways and propelling a spray of shit upward from between my legs. I grunted as she pulled back and swung harder. Sitting in the chair, there was really nowhere for my balls to go like when they were hanging and she would slap them around, and the considerable pain burst into my senses quickly. I cried out as she reared back for another strike. Before her third attempt, almost in tears again and stretching the tape around my ankles, I instinctively managed to close my legs enough to protect myself. Our kneecaps painfully collided and she cursed loudly in some language, eyes widened. Suddenly she punched me in the jaw with a closed first, sending a rain of the shit and sweat mixture that coated my face into the tub next to me. My head reeled sideways from the blow, and I as I realized both my watery eyes were open now, I turned back and looked at her incensed expression, my mouth throbbing. My eyes looking directly into hers, I dutifully spread my legs as far as possible apart, opening the space below my throbbing cock, and braced for another blow, hoping no permanent damage was imminent. She smiled, then resumed her look of concentration, focused on her target. The agony came, but was not as bad as expected. She mercifully altered her angle so my thigh took most of the brunt. She then spat on me, landing a wad on the side of my nose that dripped off my upper lip.

Aroused by her sadistic exploits, she squatted down in front of the chair, one hand between her legs, and one clamped onto my aching, shit-slathered nuts, her nails digging in. She had several tit bouncing, convulsing, mouth open, facing the ceiling, vocal orgasms as she indulged in one her favorite pastimes, yanking roughly on my scrotum as I squirmed, moaned and gasped, as all the muscles in my lower stomach and groin tightened with pain.

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