Romans & histoires Poop Fetish

she said. I pouted and nodded slowly. “Yeah” I agreed. She grabbed my hands, pulled me up and hugged me tightly, then rubbed my back comfortingly. “He said I'm not skillful enough” I sniffled. “That's because he's shortsighted” Shortsighted? Ok, that's one funny way of comforting people. “I mean, I just want to turn my addiction into a profession, but he's giving me a hard time” I paused briefly. “It's better I become a porn star, than having people call me a slût, is that too much to ask for?”

“Turning therapy into foreplay?” I smiled sweetly. “If the shoe fits.” There was a pause. Thick. Tense. “You’ve had how many partners in the last year?” he asked suddenly. I shrugged. “I stopped counting after thirty.” “Men or women?” “Mostly men. But a few women, yeah.” “And did any of them make you feel… satisfied?” I opened my mouth, then shut it. Because the answer was too ugly to say out loud. Instead, I looked away. “Satisfied enough.”

I only have four toes. Me: Fine... I will make an exception for you. Caroline: But you hated for toes! Me: Not when it comes to your toes. I have this fetish called "Caroline's toes," and I can't stop thinking about your fourth toe. Caroline: Oh my god! You disgust me! Stop! I'm CRYING in this hospital bed, you freak! Me: It wasn't that funny. Caroline: Fine... I might only be laughing because there is no entertainment at the hospital, but still!

Her lips trembled when she heard the question and even though she decided this was the path she would take, she was still not ready to provide her shameful answer. She clears her throat and slowly swallows her spit and in a stuttering, shaky voice, she explains, "I have a very odd fetish. I'm a bit of a pervert Alpha. I like collecting used underwear. The scent helps me fall asleep at night," Her voice and heart sinking in shame at every word she mutters.

THEMES: Nightclub, Lesbian love, LGBTQ, Dom- Sub energy, bodily discovery, Funatari. KINKS: Belt play, Foot play, foot fuck, Tit play, Tit fuck, Dirty talk, Size tease, Eye contact control. LESSY'S POV "Use your feet." I gulp at that, "My... ffe... feet." "Yes love, use your feet just like you would use your hands on my cock." I swallow again, this... is a new thing to me; I've never met anyone with a feet fetish before.

“Yes! There’s something wrong with you. You need help! I also think you have a taboo fetish.” He pauses in the middle of scooping vegetables into our food bowls. “Fetish?” “Yes. That’s why you’re fixated on me…” I wave my hand as I try to find the right word. Thinking hard about it, it actually makes sense if he has maybe some sort of Taboo fetish. People easily have one of those. “If I wasn’t your step-sister, I’d be nothing to you, Cicero.” His eyes narrow, but I’m currently on a roll and can’t stop. I need to get this out.

"But there are a few that stand out. You might even think they're weird." "Trust me." I lower my voice, let her hear the arousal. Push up against her, let her feel my hard length. "There are things I find sexy about you, that most people would commit me for. Borders on fetishes," my confession is whispered as I lean in, nipping lightly at her neck. "Do tell." I tap her hip, looking forward to hearing her sing my praises. It hasn't happened often enough in my personal life.

The screen showed a woman in a sterile hospital room, sweat-slicked and straining, her legs splayed wide on the stirrups as the baby's head crowned. I remember freezing, my dick twitching in my jeans for no goddamn reason. It wasn't the baby; it was her... the raw, animal power ripping through her body, the way her pussy stretched impossibly around that emerging life, lips swollen and slick with fluids. I jerked off that night for the first time to the memory, cum spilling over my fist as I imagined being there, close enough to touch. Years later, the fetish had burrowed deep, like a parasite feeding on my soul. By day, I coded algorithms for a faceless corp, smiling at meetings, flirting ha

“Do you need a break?” I shake my head, not as a response to his question, but to the internal battle about to consume me. “Good.” He assumes it is my reply and resumes his job. I take a deep breath. Eyes on him, but not for long I start battling the urge to look down. Foot fetish is my dark fantasy. One that I’d rather take to my grave than explore. Because one silly mistake and it may affect my brand. “Pose like you're selling those straps to me.” He groans, quite frustrated at my poses. “Tilt your face… just a little…”

"I like the observe, voyeurism involves watching sex unfold from a distance but I don’t, I like watching sweet women like you getting fucked for the first time until the good girl in you breaks, revealing you for what you are. Seeing the exact second a woman realizes she isn't in control anymore and taking it upon myself to fuck her in ten thousand ways from sunday. That’s my fetish." Sandy swallowed hard, her heart hammering. "And you, Bobi?" Bobi leaned back, his massive frame dwarfing the armchair. He looked like a king carved from obsidian. "I’m a simple man, Sandy. I’m big. I’m powerful. And I like to feel that power against something soft. Something that shouldn't be able to handle me,