As Lara, a striking redhead hooker from Wurzburg, stepped out of the cold wet alley and into the dimly lit apartment building, she couldn't help but feel the anticipation building inside her. She loved these late-night house calls; they were always so much more intimate than her regular clients on the street corner.
The young man who had called for her services was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, his eyes widening as he took in her figure wrapped in a sheer black dress that clung to every curve. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he said, his voice quivering with excitement.
She smiled seductively and made her way over to him, placing a hand on his chest and feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "That can only mean one thing," she purred, leaning in close enough to feel his warm breath against her neck. "You're ready for me."
The young man nodded eagerly and grabbed her hand, leading her into his darkened bedroom. As they entered, Lara could feel the power dynamic shifting – she was now in control, and he was her willing plaything.
He knelt down at the foot of the bed, raising her dress up over her hips without being told. She slipped out of her black panties, revealing her shaved pussy to his hungry eyes. "You're such a good boy," she praised, running her fingers through his hair. "Now, time to prove yourself."
She climbed onto the bed, spreading her legs wide as an invitation. He crawled between them, his tongue darting out to tentatively taste her sweet nectar. Lara moaned softly, encouraging him as she ran her fingers through his hair, urging him on.
As his tongue teased her, she felt a rumbling in her stomach. It had been a while since her last bowl movement, and the thought of finally releasing it onto her young lover sent shivers down her spine. "Close your eyes, baby," she whispered, her voice taking on a husky quality. "This is going to feel so good for you."
Slowly, she lowered herself down onto his face, feeling his breath on her pussy as he braced himself for what was coming. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the wave of nausea that threatened to consume her. But she knew this was what he wanted – to be used as her personal toilet.
With one final push, she let it all out. The hot steaming pile of shit oozed its way over his face, covering it from his hairline to his mouth. He groaned in pleasure, his tongue darting out to taste every inch of her filth.
As she felt the last of it release, she pulled away and sat up, wiping her hands on the crumpled sheets. "Well done, baby," she purred, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Now get rid of that mess before your mom comes home."
Smirking, she walked out of the room, leaving him to clean up her filth. She knew this wasn't a normal relationship, but it was what they both needed. And as she made her way down the stairs, ready for her next appointment, she couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing that she had fulfilled her client's every desire - even if it meant shitting on him.
