Akira Kiuchi

Sex story with: Akira Kiuchi

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I was filled at all. Possibly I could have taken more, but I decided to take I probably could have held the enema for quite a while (how long do you retain yours?), but a small gurgle from within me suggested that I was maybe ready to expel the fluid. I was in for a number of surprises. The first surprise was the force with which the now filthy water jetted from my Akira Kiuchi gallery open asshole. Warm water and softened shit splattered against the foot of the tub, splashing back onto my Akira Kiuchi gallery feet, legs, ass, and even up onto my stomach, so strong was the stream that was flowing uncontrollably from my Akira Kiuchi gallery bowels. The second surprise came when the flow stopped as suddenly as it had begun. I couldn't understand it, surely I couldn't have dumped a full quart of water so quickly. It hardly seemed enough. My doubts were answered by a soft groaning from my Akira Kiuchi gallery bowels, and the sensation of something making its way towards my anus. I squeezed, and the flow of water and shit resumed. It continued like that over the span of a half hour, my Akira Kiuchi gallery ass dispensing the enema in short, but copious, batches, until I feared that the stream of shit and water would never stop. Eventually though, I was as empty as the bag that hung above me and my Akira Kiuchi gallery feet, pressed up against the foot of the tube, were literally buried in a pile of soft, brown shit. My third surprise was how much I had relished the experience, the helplessness as my Akira Kiuchi gallery gut continuously delivered another load of filth to expel, the delicious shame as the steaming shitwater filled the tub, flowing along my Akira Kiuchi gallery body and streaming through my Akira Kiuchi gallery hair, inundating me in its strong odor, the beauty of the generous pile of shit that smothered and stained my Akira Kiuchi gallery feet. I could have orgasmed right then, but I knew I was not finished. I had turned myself, during the day, into a human piss factory, drinking glass after glass of water and expelling the results into a large glass jar. That jar now sat in the sink, surrounded by hot water. I retrieved it, opened it up and checked the temperature. It was warmer than the tap water I had used, but I did not wan't to wait for it to cool down slightly. I poured the fragrant, ...(cont.)

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