No, she wasn't ill, this had taken some effort. Being completely loaded meant she'd had to forego any sex during those days. Obviously, someone jamming their prick up your arse would be bad, but past experience had taught her that even a common or garden orgasm could be enough to relax just the wrong muscles and screw-up the job more or less entirely. That job was Neville teen Oswald Green, he was executive director of Turnright and Green which had an annual turnover of something like six hundred million and as such Neville's main pad was an eight bedroom faux Tudor mansion in Bray, Berks, about twenty five miles from London. It wasn't a frequent event, at least for Jenny, but every few months her agency rep would phone and meekly inquire after beating about the bush for some time, with tedious pointless questions and entirely avoidable asides, all the more obvious by their absence for standard jobs, whether or not there was a possibility that she might, if willing, be able to do another special appointment. That basically boiled down to 'Do you wanna take two days off then get shat on by a millionaire'. That meant spending a few asian days fuck-free in London, no biggy. Annoying, but no biggy. The request itself counter as a special job, obviously, but the agency, like most of them, even considered anal a speciality job. This had always seemed bizarre. Jenny would take the extra money, of course, it was essentially free money but she really rather enjoyed getting a big, hard cock up the arse, especially with a decent fit chap on the back end who knew how to give it what for. In her onscreen career she was getting known as the first name in fetish work, and especially the eagerness with which she put stuff up her hole. In the prostitution game she was doing more and more unusual jobs, partly because she quite enjoyed the novelties, and partly because most of the girls would simply never even consider doing what Jenny was about to do. At this point you might be wondering why. You might be sitting there in alarm, surely not that, you might be pondering. Now, as mentioned, Jenny enjoyed anal, and experimenting. Her first time discovering 'the taste' was the first time she'd stuck her tongue up a man's hole. Once you've done that a few times, and especially when you've tried it after a chap has had the decency to enema themselves out, you learn that a properly clean rectum tastes more or less the same as a mouth, and so everything else, including 'the taste' was, in fact, well, shit. So, Jenny had come to understand that not only had she tasted it before, but that doing so it hadn't even been bad enough to stop licking out those arses. There's a long, long way to go, of course, between tasting traces and something more dramatic. That had come during filming. It had nearly been enough to put her out of the industry, especially at that age. She'd been on her back, thigh high latex boots with gigantic platform soles wrapped behind the neck of this gloriously slender African, whose mouth was exploring her intimate areas in a rather satisfying way that had the potential of her cumming like a rabbit. On the other end, his knees were either side of her shoulders, positioned by the make-up girl so she had enough flex in her almost white hair to get access. Her tongue was fully extended past ultra-gloss red lips closed on a caramel puckered ring, and embedded as fully as she was able into the bowels of her coal-hued co-star. The director was whispering that the punters couldn't actually see her tongue with her lips pressed in so, and it was as she pulled back a little, lips coming aside, and with a head turn just enough that the camera could capture her pink muscle japanese wriggling inside the man's colon. The first warning was the chap whimpering, not a pleased sound but alarm. The process overall was quick a second or two, maybe three. He started to pull away, but Jenny's legs were locked behind his head, so he couldn't go anywhere, really. There was a blast of wind which hit her square pussy in the face, and as she was recoiling, back, down, to the side, the gush of shit simply exploded. That first shot was textured like porridge, and it hit her in the mouth, splattering up her face, down to her neck, clouds of it in her hair, and yes, she hadn't closed her mouth fully, so for the first time in her life, little Jenny had human faeces in her mouth. The reaction was automatic, her head turned sharply, and the shit was expelled by the spontaneous projectile vomit that shot out, over her stallion's left leg, her own hair and the bed covers. Whilst this was happening a second perhaps more traditional turd has escaped it's enclosure and leapt like a seal onto the ice-floe of her right ear embedding itself in the area in a general sort of way. By this point her legs had unlocked, and her body was in automatic, her hands and feet crawling her away from the brown fountain of horror, but, sadly, not quite quickly enough as a final third convulsion dropped a hot tube of crap right between her tits. You'd have thought, given how much time was generally taken up making sure your talent was feeling fine, so, there'd always be drinks and food and the like, much pampering and generally a feeling of fun on a set, that when the saw their screw du joir getting literal shit in the face, that they'd spring to action. Instead, as Jenny dared to open one encrusted eye, most of them were just japan staring. The camera was still rolling. It took what felt like half a day before someone asked if she was OK. While I pleased Tom, Damian and Jericho were driving me to the brink. She asked if we had reservations, because they were all booked up for the evening. “I’ll look into it then.” I assure them. “You have no idea what kind of girl I am,” her smile was mischievous once more before she leaned japanese over and engulfed his member. The last thing I wanted to do was sleep. His fat wife grinning at my mom. "Oh yeah, just like that!" “It's a pleasure to meet you.” I had not noted the carnage I left behind the night before; the three corpses were in teen almost identical positions: on their backs with their chests torn open, contents strewn about. Here I am holding her around the waist, trying to figure what should be next. He hadn't expected it. My legs gave out and my hands slipped off the shower door. With a whimper of utter asian defeat, she tossed the useless device aside with a flick of her wrist and it bounced off the passenger seat and onto the floor. I feel so exposed and self conscious. I stared at them as they were consumed by japan the lust in pussy inspired in them. I’d wake up and see I texted like six people I haven’t talked to in months.