Today, after three long months away due to family issues, one of my favorite toilets has finally managed to get free and return to my service. I told him clearly: I havent seen you in so long that I expect a proper feast today. And yes, Im full. Very full.I make him enter on his knees as always. First I want him to reclaim what hes missed the most: my sweaty feet after a full day. I sit comfortably on the spanking bench, legs spread, him on his knees on the floor in front of me. I order him to slowly lick the soles, between the toes, the accumulated sweat dripping into his mouth. Hes already panting, tongue digging eagerly, as if hed been waiting for nothing else for three months. I tell him to savor it properly, to inhale the scent hes missed, while I relax and get ready.Then I stand up from the bench and slip off my panties slowly. He stays on his knees, eyes fixed on my ass. I order him to slide his tongue inside to dilate my hole. He obeys immediately, tongue pushing deep, swirling, exploring, trying to open me up as much as possible. He pants hard, excited by the taste and smell, ready for whats coming.When I feel the moment is right, I order him to rest his head supine on the edge of the bench, mouth wide open facing up. I position myself over him, ass facing his face, and sit slowly on the bench next to his head. I relax completely.It comes out plenty, creamy, as usual. I watch it fall straight into his wide-open mouth: a wonderful mix of colors. Intense green from yesterdays spinach, dark brown from the chocolate tart, yellowish streaks from the milk and chia seeds. A true rainbow of filth filling his mouth in a compact mass. I tell him to hold it there for a few minutes, to really taste it, to feel the weight and warmth on his tongue. He gurgles, eyes glassy, but doesnt dare spit.Then I sit more comfortably on the bench beside him. I scoop up with gloved fingers what spilled at the corners of his mouth and smear it all over his t-shirt hes not naked, hes wearing a thin shirt that soaks through immediately, staining brown and sticky. I pack the shit into small mouthfuls and feed them to him one by one while he chews slowly, struggling but never stopping.Meanwhile I tease his tiny cock with my feet: a slow footjob, soles rubbing the shaft already hard. The more he eats, the more his cock swells, throbbing against my soles. Ridiculous. I had promised him a ruined orgasm if he ate everything without complaints. And he hurries: chewing faster, swallowing with difficulty, tears in his eyes but determined.In the end he finishes. The shirt is a sticky brown mess, mouth empty and filthy. He deserves the reward.With my feet I bring him to the edge, rubbing slowly, building the rhythm. He moans, tenses, hes about to come and right at the peak I pull my feet away. The ruined orgasm dribbles out weakly, pathetically, pooling on the already dirty shirt. He shakes, pants, humiliated to the core.I look down at him, satisfied. Good toilet. You kept your promise. Come back in a week. And next time I want you even fuller.
