I was sat on one of those long barstools with a cheap metal table in front of me, and crushed glass around my feet. I felt the wad of illegally obtained money rubbing against my leg in my pocket.

Some girl sat next to me. I’d had a few beers, and was running on an empty stomach, so I was a bit pissed. I start chatting her up, in the skilled way someone drunk can. She was stunning – beautiful blonde hair ran past her shoulders and on to her supple breasts. I told her some really bullshit stories. I told her the story of the two British serial killers, Burke and Hare, who would kill people and sell their bodies for medical research. And, when they got caught out and arrested, Hare turned on Burke, gave loads of evidence against him and got off Scot-free, and Burke got hung. I then told her that Burke was my great-great uncle. Man, there’s something wrong with your mental state if you try to impress a girl by telling her you’re related to a famous serial killer.

Anyway, she was impressed. Fuck it man, it is pretty impressive. It’s all lies, of course – the story of them is true, but I’m not related to William Burke to my knowledge. We kissed and caressed each other. I ran my hand up her beautiful figure, massaging her breast with it. This was surprisingly easy.

The end of the night reaches us, and I’m pretty pissed, and up for a drunken fumble. I whisper in to her ear, “Oh, shit, I’ve nowhere to sleep tonight.” I then begin to bite and nibble her earlobe. She gasps.

“…Come ’round to mine. You can have a drink.”

Eventually, we end up at her place. “Alright darlin’,” I slur; stroking her face with an unbridled love for the nameless woman I’ve just met in a shitty club. She looked up at me, smiles in her eyes, and at that moment I decided that I would pursue an interest in the perverse arts. I’d done grandma, now I had another opportunity – I should go for it. I’ll seize the moment and take a journey into depravity, and I’ll go for number one, or perhaps number two; that is, including grandma. “Are you open minded?”

She was pissed too. “Yeah,” she replied drunkenly. She grinned. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, poking me in the belly in a way she probably thought was cute.

“Y’know when you go to the toilet, right? You do it pretty regularly. It’s a normal bodily process – it’s something completely natural. Taking a shit, I mean.”

She nodded her head in pissed approval, her curling blonde hair and her cute face smiling, and her slim figure screaming her sexiness. She smelt fantastic – the smell of a beautiful woman.

“Well, what’s the harm in doing that on my face?” A pretty simple argument, I thought.

“Come up to the bathroom,” she says, in a sultry voice, pursing her pretty lips into a kiss. She stands up. I take a quick look at her arse. A rush of blood flew to my penis.

“Alright,” I say, heaving myself up. We troop upstairs to the bathroom and she instructs me to lie down in the bath. I’m lay down, looking at the white enamel gleaming at me and shimmering, and her standing above me, towering, like a Goddess. She takes off her pants with the sultry, whorish sexiness of some cheap hooker, throws them on the floor, and slowly removes her knickers. She turns around and squats above my face.

I stare up at that lovely, curved, toned arse, sniffing expectantly like a fox coming out of a hole. She unleashes a giant fart. It smelt immediately of a strong raw egg odour. I gag, coughing, my eyes streaming with tears. I hear her giggle, and then a brown solid turd begins to protrude.

I lick my lips with eager anticipation. The shit moves closer and closer to my quivering face, and eventually lands with a thud on me. I open my mouth and chew a little. It tasted quite bitter – think of a pile of tomatoes, allowed to go brown and sloppy for a few weeks, compressed, with a load of other random flavours thrown in, and then shoved in a quarter-pound shit in your mouth.

I could barely eat any of it when the second one landed. The stench was overpowering. I immediately wanted to be sick, but I repressed the urge and carried on savouring the smell of the shit.

The amount of shit quickly became heavy, and it started to smother me quite a lot. It was over all of my face – opening my mouth to breath was sure to invite in plenty of shit. I pictured me like someone trying to take some desperate breaths whilst they drowned in a muddy lake.

The smell you wouldn’t imagine. It was beyond words. It was terrible. It was sickly, with a hint of rotten flesh. The warmth was quite weird.

I unbuckled my pants with one hand, pulled them down, and began to masturbate with one hand. With the other, I smeared the faeces over my face, coating it with a thick brown sludge. Bits of undigested food rubbed against my cheeks. I wiped her shit over my mouth, sticking my tongue out and collecting the sticky, smelly, rotten sludge on it. I licked around my face desperately, and looked at my fingers on my non-wanking hand. They were coated in brown fudge that I started to lick off my fingers, which reminded me of when I used to make chocolate fudge cakes with my mum.

I gagged, slobbering all over my finger, before wrapping my mouth around it and sucking all the shit off like an ice-lolly. If she’s eaten meat, does this go against my vegetarianism, I wondered.

No time for moral questions now, I thought. I carried on wanking and eating shit. I considered how difficult it was to multitask in such a demanding situation. Her anus opened and closed above me.

Looking into this gaping intestinal cavern, I began to climax. Semen erupted out of my penis, landing on my stomach. My hand became thick with the mass of sperm, which I imagined struggling to survive on my hand. Every time you wank, you kill millions of sperm, which are potential humans, no less. It’s almost a mass murder.

“I have to wipe,” she slurred.

I sat up and licked, lapping her arse like a cat to milk. My head and neck were covered in shit. Semen dripped off my hand and hit my leg. It felt cold. I didn’t concern myself with the fate of the sperm. They don’t care. They don’t even notice they’re dying.

“Take a shower,” she said, pointing at me with a slender finger, “and get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert.”

So I did. I didn’t expect her to call me back, although I gave her my number. We probably went too fast.