Today, K-kun, who wanted panties stained with naturally absorbed discharge that lacked an artificial feel and shit wipe-residue smears, came over.
Standing bow-legged and peeking his face up from between my legs, K-kun held a Tupperware container below to catch the shit.
I lightly wipe my butt with tissue, put on the panties, and apply the shit wipe-residue stains.
It’s not simply about having a lot of shit, nor is it just a slight leakage; the exquisite amount of remaining residue is K-kun’s point of excitement.
The reason he developed a fetish for shit wipe-residue on panties seems to be that when he was little, he discovered laundry belonging to his friend’s beautiful mother, specifically her panties stained with shit residue.
If his friend’s mother hadn’t been beautiful, he probably wouldn’t have become a wipe-residue fetishist. If there had been too much shit, would he have been completely repulsed and never developed the fetish…?
Numerous fragments of eroticism lurk in everyday life, and we never know when or where one of those fragments will sprout.
The world of fetishism, which is mysterious, aesthetic, and allows one to feel a sense of the mystical, strongly captivates me today as well.
