A few years ago, my French bf-at-the-time took me to Paris to meet his family….His mother, a haughty Parisienne who believes that her only son is GOD, and that no girl could possibly be classy enough to deserve him. Their regard is mutual – he worships her as much as she worships him.
One evening after a champagne-soaked dinner, she left to go to the theater. Expecting that she’d be gone for several hours, we started having regular sex, and then anal sex, on a couch adjacent to the table at which we’d had dinner. Things kept getting hotter, and my b.f. started f*cking my ass with the slim end of a champagne bottle. This felt good at first… but then I realized that something felt off. I slowed him down in an attempt to understand what on Earth my body was doing, and I realized that my bowels were moving. And I kind of realized that it was too late to stop what was happening.
At this already Godforsaken moment, we hear a key in the door and his mother pops into the room. The bitch had forgotten her shawl or something. So there I am, naked, on her couch, while her son, also naked, is holding a champagne bottle that is obviously deeply embedded in my ass. We shriek, and he yanks out the bottle. And immediately out comes a LARGE, dark brown, smelly piece of poop. It just rolls out – this felt like it was happening in slow motion, and I kept trying to stop it but I couldn’t – and lands on her couch.
The French boy and I broke up shortly thereafter. I dumped him – pun intended.