The Nutella Kink – BDSM – Sex Story


Our bedroom is small, we have a king-sized bed, a tv and thick blackout curtains. It might be sexier if it were a palatial suite with bouquets of flowers and satin sheets, but I’m not rich. The previous owners of the house (before we rented it) installed a sliding wardrobe that takes up one full side of the room. The front of the wardrobe is mirrored. When my wife and I make love, I like to watch her body moving with mine. My wife has the most incredible body, she is the classic Rubenesque shape of total femininity – round full breasts with that slight droop that only nature can craft. A full and touchable stomach and curvy shapely legs. And her skin, wow, her skin is majestic – smooth, olive. I am obsessed with her, she’s my world.

Ann, her name is Ann. She is about five foot five, brunette and full-figured. We met online, back before meeting online was really a thing. We have been married for more than two decades. I am still in awe of her, and every now and then she still finds a way to surprise me. I tell her that I would do anything for her, and I want to do anything for her. I like her to push my boundaries, to make me prove myself – because I just want her to know that she is the queen of my soul. Sometimes. We have been married for two decades and even I can not sustain constant wonderment. For the most part we’re a ordinary boring couple with the usual mixture of highs and lows, frustrations and delights. This is a story about how a frustration led to a delight.

I refuse to take shopping lists when I go for groceries. Even when I do take them, I tend to leave them in my pocket. I’m very forgetful, it’s a issue. On a particular Saturday, I got back from dropping our kids off at their numerous clubs and friends’ houses and unpacked the car.

“Tell me you remembered toilet paper.”

I was fumbling to put the food in the fridge, I was planning to make a cooked brunch. Ann had come downstairs and was standing in the archway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Her dark eyebrows knitted together, her full lips pressed together. Her right hand rested on her hip. A slim sliver of skin showed between her white flowery blouse and her dark blue jeans, like a glimmer of sunlight bursting through the clouds to illuminate a summer field.

I stood frozen between desire and defensiveness. I had remembered the toilet paper, hadn’t I?

“What was the last thing I said to you before you went out?”

Ann’s eyes met mine with a focussed intensity that my light Saturday mood left me entirely unready to deal with. I looked down and blinked. She was right, I had forgotten to pick it up.

“Shit, I’ll go get it.”

Ann didn’t look impressed. She sighed, she was pissed off. So pissed off.

“I’ll just go back to the shop.”

Ann walked into the kitchen. She began picking up food items and shoving them in the cupboard.

“I’ll do that, then I’ll go get it.”

Ann snatched something from the cupboard and turned on her heels.

She stopped in the archway and turned her head back. Her stern eyes fixed me through cascading rings of curls.

“Don’t, just get this put away.”

As I carefully put the rest of the food away I heard Ann’s footsteps on the stairs and one of the upstairs doors slam.

With a deep sigh, I finished putting the rest of the food in the cupboards. I put the ingredients I had set apart for lunch: bacon, cheese, puff pastry and tomato in a neat pile in the fridge. Then trudged my way upstairs to clear the air.

“Lawrence.”

Ann’s voice was muffled behind the closed bathroom door. She still sounded angry.

“I’m right here.”

“Come in, I want to show you something.”

I slowly turned the handle and opened the door. Ann was sitting on the toilet, bare legs pressed together.

“What is it?”

Ann pointed to the empty toilet roll holder. She reached her pointed finger, still outstretched, and pressed the flush.

“If you can’t listen to me, you’re going to have to help me.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant.

“Do you want me to get a flannel?”

Ann shook her head, her misty blue eyes smouldered.

“You caused this, you’ll have to fix it.”

I stared at her blankly. Her eyes didn’t shift from mine. Ann stood up. Her jeans lay at her ankles, she placed her left hand against the wall and swung her body round. With both palms pressed against the wall she pushed her ass out.

The white blouse hung just covering her skin, the curve of her cheeks visible below it. Her eyes stayed fixed on me the whole time.

“Get on your knees, and take care of your mistake.”

I stuttered. I wasn’t quite sure what Ann was asking, but there she was her bare legs curving up to the pert crescents that peeked out beneath the flowered blouse. I suspected, and I felt a rush of blood away from the head that thinks.

“Do you want me to wet a towel?”

Ann stared blankly at me. She answered in stern measured syllables..

“Don’t ruin my towels, kneel down and take care of it.”

I hesitated, just for a second. Ann’s tone suddenly shifted.

“Knees!”

She pointed down, as if I were a dog at her command and I felt a surge of shame. I knelt down, not because I wanted to be spoken to like that, but because I liked it.

I knelt down before her ass.

I began to kiss the backs of her thighs. I could feel her press herself towards my face. I ran my hands up her legs and on to her firm buttocks. I spread them aside.

I stopped. The sight of slick brown mess was worse than I was expecting.

I felt a hand grab my hair and pull me in.

“Lick it clean.”

I held my breath and stretched out my tongue, horrified that I was allowing myself to do it, but so hard that my dick was causing me pain.

I couldn’t believe how good it tasted, nutty and chocolatey. I thrust my tongue in deep, hungrily lapping. Ann was still holding my hair. I licked it until every last speck was clean. Then I stared at the slick bud of her anus and pressed into it pushing my tongue as deep as it could reach.

“That’s enough stud.”

I looked up. Ann turned around and cradled my head between her palms.

“I think I’m clean now.”

My eyes darted hungrily into her crotch. Then back up to her smiling face: Damp with weakness and longing. My cock so hard it hurt.

Ann reached down and pulled up her jeans.

“Can we please?”

The words came out high pitched and needy, I was embarrassed by them.

“No, clean your face and let’s go out.”

I turned to the wash basin and saw the jar next to the sink. It was Nutella, thank God it was only Nutella.

I turned and Ann was still smiling, self-satisfied but charming.

“Next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”

I cleaned up and we went out. By the time we were done, the kids were back and I was left with the memory of what had happened.

I wasn’t quite ready to admit how hot I found it. But biology kept pestering me. Over the next two weeks I sprayed my load thinking about it five or six times but it didn’t scratch the itch.

One night we were watching TV. Ann sometimes lies on the bed with her ass sticking up. Ann was watching some documentary on Bigfoot, I was bored.

My palm was rubbing her firm butt, I ran my thumb along the black frill of her underwear, feeling the contrast of textures between the rough of the cotton and the satin smooth of her skin.

I slid my hand under the fabric and let my fingers glide up and down the curve of her cheek. It took me a few seconds but I plucked up the courage.

“I was thinking about that time, you know, with the Nutella.”

Ann continued to watch her show, but she pressed her ass slightly back against my touch.

“I didn’t think I’d like it, but now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Ann flicked her head back and caught my gaze.

“You mean the time I made you lick the shit off my ass?”

I nodded.

“You would like that. God, if the people you work with knew how disgusting you are. I don’t get it. Why do you like to be degraded so much?”

I shrugged.

“It’s just hot.”

Ann smiled.

“Keep rubbing my ass.”

I kept rubbing her ass.

“Do you think we could, maybe, do it again?”

Ann flicked her head back to the tv.

“I don’t know. It’s pretty messy, I’ll think about it.”

Days passed, that Friday we made love. Nothing unusual, just my hands touching each curve – feeling the softness of her body as I pressed deeper and deeper inside her. We came together and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I didn’t press for more Nutella, because I wondered any pressure might end my chances forever.

The following Friday, I had made dinner and the kids were all asleep. There wasn’t much on TV and we had settled on reruns of Father Ted. Ann went to the bathroom. I was getting tired.

When Ann came back, she lay on the bed – her knees bent, gorgeous ass in the air. Her nightgown showing off her black underwear.

“Are you tired?”

I was exhausted.

“Not really.”

“Take off my panties. Slowly.”

I reached forward and slid Ann’s panties. Kissing the cheek as I did.

“I got you a present.”

I looked at Ann’s ass. It was filled with a brown material. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it wasn’t Nutella.

“You wanted another try, right? Try this.”

I looked at the substance, it was thicker and lighter. There was a bumpy texture to it. And streaks of a darker brown.

“Don’t get any on the bed.”

I gingerly pressed my tongue out and into the mess. I was hit immediately by the taste, rich, savoury and sweet. A solid object entered my mouth. I crushed it between my teeth and broken fragments of peanut filled my mouth.

It was all over her, a blend of marmite, Nutella and crunchy nut peanut butter.

I looked at our reflection in the mirror, her full ass pressed in the air. My palms resting on both cheeks. I took a second to burn the image into my mind.

Then, I devoured it.

I licked and licked until every drop was gone. Sliding my tongue up and down the crack of her ass, then forcing my tongue inside her anus and circling to make sure not a drop of it was left.

I checked my face in the mirror, and rubbed my finger to catch a drop that had stuck to my cheek. Ann was up on the bed and facing me.

“On your back.”

I lay on my back. Ann pulled off my boxer shorts and looked down at my erection.

“My, somebody likes eating shit. Don’t you?”

I nodded. Ann threw her leg over me.

“You know why you like eating shit, don’t you? It’s because you are shit.”

I nodded.

Ann grabbed my erection and yanked it hard into a painful stretch. Then took the palm of her hand and slapped it across my balls.

“Are you my little shit boy?’

Ann put me inside her.

“I am. I love it.”

Ann reached her hand back and slapped me hard.

“Shit boys don’t get to talk. They’re only good for fucking and eating shit. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded. I could feel my eyes tear with weakness as Ann fixed me with those blue grey eyes.

She pulled her nightgown over her head. Then threw it over my face, pressing her palm against it so that it covered my eyes. Her slick pussy rocked up and down against the length of my cock.

I felt her breast press against my chest. Ann pressed her mouth against my covered ear and whispered.

“Shit boys don’t get to look at me when they come.”

Ann was riding me hard, pumping against me. I felt her fingers squeeze my left nipple, fingernails digging into my sensitive skin.

I exploded with a spasm.

Ann took the nightgown away from my face. She was smiling down at me in amusement.

“You are so nasty. Go clean up.”

It was magical. I should have left it there. I should have appreciated the time and thought she had put into the recipe and the execution. But two weeks later I was still inflamed with the kink.

I had asked four times. Even as I asked I knew it was a bad idea. Even if I thought it was subtle. There was nothing sexy happening, it was a boring Wednesday night. Ann was eating Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups and watching a show about ghosts. She turned and held the packet out.

“You want some?”

I leapt on it.

“You know I all the time want to eat your chocolate?”

Ann was not impressed, she frowned at me and turned to face the TV. I could tell I’d pissed her off.

“I knew I should never have let you do that stuff with the Nutella. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

I panicked.

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t discover it so sexy – I just discover it SO sexy.”

Ann sighed. Her chin rested on her palm.

“Look, I don’t mind it – I just don’t want it to be the rest of our lives.”

“Sorry. I won’t pester you with it again.”

Ann’s expression subtly shifted. There was a slight sense of mischief, even cruelty in the smile that I was looking at.

“Ask me again, and I’ll really make you eat shit.”

There was that familiar twitch in my pants. The one that meant my brain had turned off the lights and left my dick to wrestle with the complexity of the situation.

“What do you mean?”

Ann raised her eyelids.

“I mean, if you really want to do it again, we can do it one more time. But, you will have to eat my real shit.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. My brain was processing how nice Ann’s breasts looked in the soft material of her checked pyjamas, the fullness of her lips as she formed each word and the slenderness of each finger of the hand she had placed on her hip.

“If that’s what it takes.”

Ann smiled.

“Not tonight. When I feel like it.”

I nodded,

“Are you sure you want this?”

My dick answered on my behalf.

“I would beg for it.”

So, it was Saturday. I dropped the kids off at their respective locations.

“Maybe we can do something when I get back.”

I intended to keep the tone light but there was a suggestive lilt to my voice I had failed to disguise.

“Like what?”

I blushed, Ann knew exactly what I wanted, she looked annoyed.

“Like lunch or something.”

“You want to eat something?”

I nodded.

“See you soon.”

When I got home, the house was quiet. I put the keys on the table and sighed. I had been thinking about Ann’s ass the whole way home and I was partially hard.

“Upstairs. Come upstairs.”

I didn’t waste any time. Ann stood outside of the bathroom. Her body language was neutral, arms hung by her sides, poker faced and nude.

I looked at the curve of her hip, the ripeness of her thighs, the lines that pulled my eyes up past her stomach and into those intense full eyes.

“You ready to eat my shit?”

My mind stammered, my blood rushed down and my heart began to pump as if it were the bellows to a hungry fire.

“Yes.”

Ann beckoned with her finger. She turned the handle to the bathroom door.

I stepped forward. Ann wagged her finger.

“Strip.”

I pulled off my shirt and threw it to the ground, kicking my shoes off as I fumbled with the button of my jeans. Then followed her into the bathroom, my engorged phallus swinging with idiotic zest.

The bathroom stank. It stank of shit.

As soon as the smell hit me I began to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew. Still, I asked for it – I must want it.

Ann stood in front of me.

“Kneel down.”

I dropped to my knees in front of her. Her beautiful hairy pussy was right at eye level and I stopped noticing the smell so much.

“Hands and knees.”

I went down on all fours. Ann grabbed my hair with a firm grip.

“Crawl.”

I crawled across the floor towards the toilet. Ann had turned the seat up. The smell got worse the closer I got. She pulled my head forward so that it was over the bowl.

There was shit in the toilet. It didn’t look like Nutella, or peanut butter, it looked like shit, and it smelled like shit.

Ann tightened her grip and pushed my head down.

“Just to be clear, that is what you’re asking to eat. Still sexy?”

The stink was in my nostrils and I bit back the urge to retch.

Ann pulled my head back so that I was looking up at her.

“You can still change your mind?”

I gulped.

“Can we go back to Nutella?”

“It’s this or nothing, but before we begin – to show me you’re serious, I want you to reach into the bowl, pick it up and take a bite.”

I retched.

“Sorry,” I said, “I wondered I wanted it.”

“But you don’t?”

I shook my head.

Ann smiled.

“Well, thank God for that.”

She leant over me and the flush sounded like a sigh of relief.

“Go wait in the bedroom. Don’t lie on the bed, I’ve just made it.”

I walked to the bedroom and stood waiting. In the large mirror of the closest I could see my dwindling erection beneath my paunch.

Ann took longer than I was expecting. I wondered if I should get dressed.

After a few minutes Ann walked into the room. Much to my relief, she was still naked and smiling.

“You really will do anything I ask, won’t you?”

“You know me.”

“If I’d have told you to go ahead with it, would you still have done it – even though you didn’t want to?”

I was blushing, I could see it in the mirror. I could also see Ann’s ass.

“Are you still checking my butt out?”

“I love it.”

Ann softly took my hand and placed it on her ass. I felt myself swell. She looked down at me and giggled.

“I haven’t really changed the sheets.”

She sat down on the bed.

“Kneel down.”

I knelt down.

“I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”

Ann wrapped her leg around my head and pulled me in. The smell and taste of her pussy was sweeter than chocolate. I licked her until she had nothing left. Then, I looked down at her full body on the bed and I knew it was her that was my kink, every curve, every line, every dimple on her body.

I plunged in deep to the hilt and kept plunging until she dug her nails into my skin and I filled her.

Afterwards, I lay with her head on my shoulder, looking at us both in the mirror – knowing that I had everything I wanted.

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