Pregnancy Cravings Ch 01

This story contains watersports and poo eating, so if that is not your thing, then proceed no further. If it is, then I hope you enjoy.

I was ten weeks pregnant and my bump was just beginning to show when the craving began. It started slowly, I would go to the toilet, and as my, you-know-what would splash into the bowl and the smell would reach my over-sensitive nostrils, I'd get the weird notion that I had to eat my, poo.

I brushed it off as ridiculous at first, but after a week the craving to eat my own poo was so strong, I found myself scooping out a dark brown stool from the bowl without even realising what I was doing.

I came to my senses before going any further, but didn't drop it back in to the bowl in disgust as I knew I should. Instead I brought the large hard mass to my lips. The smell was strong, but not overpowering, and I couldn't understand why, but it was enticing. I flicked out my tongue and licked it.

It was already cold, which disappointed me, but I still took a nibble before dropping it back into the bowl and flushing it away. I considered how depraved I must be, to eat my own faeces. It was disgusting, vile, I was still chewing on the piece I had chewed off. I swallowed, feeling an abatement to the craving.

I wiped myself clean, washed my hands and left the bathroom determined that it would be a one-off.

Over the next twenty-four hours the craving returned and grew steadily until when I went to the toilet the next time, I put my hand between my legs to catch the first piece of poo as it came out of me. I let most of it go into the loo while I munched on the small piece I had caught. It was hard and bitter and I had to brush my teeth afterward.

I realised then that I hadn't done so the previous day and my mouth must have stank of shit all day. Leo, my husband, hadn't said anything, but I assumed he must have guessed that it was a dose of baby related halitosis. I decided if he asked, that was what I would put it down to.

Day three of my descent into depravity and I put one leg on the rim of the bath, the other on the closed toilet lid and defecated into the sink. The smell was stronger this time, and even more enticing. I didn't think I would be able to resist gobbling it all down.

While the taste called to me, the texture didn't, it was too hard and gritty, so in a flash of inspiration I finished by pissing on it. I emptied my bladder into the sink, filling the bowl almost to the overflow hole.

Ravenously I scooped up the turd floating in a sea of golden pee and crammed it into my mouth. The taste was a revelation, soaked in rich piss, it was heavenly sour and perfectly earthy. It even maintained a good temperature for me to eat the whole lot.

When it was all gone, the relief was so great it was almost sexual. I imagined if I'd put one hand to work on my little clit while I ate I would probably have cum like I hadn't in a long, long time. I even considered drinking the shitty piss from the basin too, but pulled the plug before I ended up dunking my face into it and lapping it up like a dog.

As I brushed my teeth, feeling a sense of fulfilment, and just a smattering of wicked glee, I wondered if I was the only one who craved my own poo. Pregnancy cravings are very common after all, and lots of women crave different things, some normal, some weird, mine was just weirder, disgusting, but, I realised, so satisfying.

I carried on the same for the next week, by late evening my cravings would begin to kick in, by the morning it would be insatiable and I couldn't get in to the bathroom and push one out quick enough.

That was when the turning point in my depravity happened.

It was a Wednesday morning and I had been awake for almost an hour, biting my lip waiting for my bowels to tell me they were ready. In truth for the last half hour I had been pushing down on my sphincter, trying to get one near the edge before I got up so I wouldn't have to stand around in the bathroom like a junkie waiting for her next fix.

I hadn't given much consideration to the thought that this practice might result in me shitting in the bed. When I did think of that it was just as my pushing began to work, with a vengeance. I suddenly felt a huge turd crowning from my bum hole right into my panties.

I flung off the duvet leapt out of bed and practically ran to the bathroom. I kicked the door closed behind me and yanked my panties down. Bending down to do that though was too much for my persecuted bowels and while I stood in the bathroom, bent over, my nightie hiked up around my waist and my knickers still around my knees a huge turd worked its way out of me. It landed on the vinyl with a thud.

For a moment I wasn't totally sure what to do, but then the craving and my wicked side combined to take over. I squatted over the turd, and as I squeezed out another one I let my full bladder go all over it and the floor. With one hand I held on to the sink, with the other I began frigging my already swollen clit as I peed. I never knew pissing could be so stimulating. I guessed that it probably wouldn't once my cravings ended, but in the meantime I was damned if I was going to let up on this possibility.

By the time I finished pissing, and the warm liquid had surrounded my feet the smell was so ripe, the first piss of the morning is always the strongest, my synapses were firing so hard I could practically hear them.

I flung my nightie over my head, dropped to my knees in the puddle of pee, soaking my panties in the process, and propping myself up on one hand, the other was still feverishly working on my clit as I built closer and closer to an orgasm.

As soon as I bit off a chunk of shit and the taste assaulted my palate I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out as I came. The release was so great I nearly collapsed on the floor in my own defecation.

The craving to eat what lay before me was still as strong as ever, so keeping working on my clit, and pushing two fingers into my pussy, I dived in to the feast before me.

That was when the worst happened.

I was so engrossed in what I was doing I hadn't heard Leo come in to the bathroom. 'What are you doing, Helen?' he asked.

I froze, my fingers in my pussy and my mouth full of shit. My first thought was, this is not real, if I say this is not real enough, then it won't be real.

But it was. I felt my whole body flush in shame as I thought of the picture I must be presenting to my husband. A depraved bitch, her arse in the air, eating her own shit and piss off the bathroom floor. I couldn't think of anything to say in mitigation. I couldn't even look at him.

Then I felt him take me gently by the arms and lift me to my feet. I was still too embarrassed to look at him so I kept my gaze firmly on the filthy floor. As he turned me around I saw his cock standing to attention in his shorts. Was the sight of me tuning him on?

'Are you okay?' he asked.

'I don't know.' I knew I wanted to grab his cock and ram it into my pussy so hard the baby could use it as a rattle. You're a disgusting bitch, I told myself. But I couldn't get that image out of my head once it was there.

'Let's get you cleaned up,' I let my sodden knickers fall to the floor and stepped out of them as he guided me gently to the shower.

In the shower, as the warm water hit me, he stood behind me and began soaping my body. I stood there passive, immobile, still flushed with embarrassment as he stroked the sponge over my breasts and extended belly. Then he started on my back. When he worked his way down to my bum, he pushed the sponge between my cheeks and I desperately wanted to push another shit out, onto the sponge. I wanted to let him spread it all over my bum and down my legs, I wanted him to smother me in shit.

I couldn't help but start working on my throbbing clit again. It had been interrupted mid wank, and wanted satisfaction. I knew it wouldn't give me any peace until it got what it wanted. The sponge was rubbing back and forth along my crack, I realised he was maybe testing me. Maybe he knew I was wanking myself. Hoping, I leant forward, with my hands on the wall of the shower, I spread my legs as far apart as the stall would allow.

'Where would you like it, Hon?' I could hear the smirk in his voice. We had never engaged in anal sex before. I'd let him probe my bum-hole with his tongue once or twice, when I'd had a bit too much to drink, but never, that.

So I was a little surprised to hear myself say 'In my arse of course. Fill me up!'

He didn't need asking twice. I felt the tip of his cock push against my slippery hole. He pulled my cheeks apart as I concentrated on fingering myself to oblivion.

When he breached the entrance and I felt his full length slide up inside me, I thought I was going to explode. The feeling was so intense. He pulled partway out, and with a grunt, thrust back in, further. Each time he pulled back, each thrust seemed to be deeper and harder than the one before.

I came at least twice while he fucked my poor arsehole. By the time he came, and I felt his spunk splash inside me, I felt as if he was fucking my head. When he pulled out, I collapsed to my knees under the shower.

Turning around with some difficulty, I came face to face, as it were, with his still semi hard cock, smeared in shit and still dribbling spunk. I had to have it and shoved it into my mouth like a starving animal finding a treat.

The taste was incredible. Musky poo, salty cum, mixed with his sweat, I grabbed his arse cheek with one hand to hold him in place and rubbed myself silly with my other hand. I didn't let him go until he had got hard again and we had both cum a second time.

That night Leo asked me about what had happened. I confessed it was just a pregnancy craving and I couldn't help myself. 'But I know it's disgusting,' I told him as we curled on the sofa together.

I had felt so ashamed, and I still did, but being in his arms, not being pushed away, made me feel at least a little less detestable.

He brushed his hand through my hair and whispered, 'you looked really hot on your knees though.'

'I noticed you weren't too put off to get it up.' I laughed.

'How often do you get the craving?'

'Really all the time, but as I've only ever gone once a day by the morning it's nearly killing me.'

'And it turns you on too?'

'Oh yes.'

'Then it's only fair I do my bit to help.'

'Really?' I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but I was so pleased he was embracing my weirdness I didn't care.

That night we had the best sex since I'd found out I was pregnant. Not quite as good as what we had experienced that morning in the shower, but damn close.

The following morning, I'll tell you about next time. X