Date: Tue, 28 Apr 2020 17:50:32 +0100
From: namab mass <namabmas@gmail.com>
Subject: Kinky Love Under Lockdown 2

This is a story involving scat play between adult males.  All characters
are eighteen years old or over.  If this isn't your sort of thing or it is
illegal for you to view it wherever you are, please leave now. This story
is entirely fictitious, and any resemblance to actual individuals is
coincidental.

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so we can continue to enjoy it.


Kinky Love Under Lockdown


Chapter Two


Despite the unfolding chaos and tragedy in the world outside I was still
trying to write my thesis, and I was sticking to a routine.  On weekday
mornings I was up early, went for a run for my hour's exercise, and then
was at my desk by eight, where I worked through until five with a break for
lunch.  Ed, on the other hand, had nothing much to do, and he spent ages on
the gym equipment in his room and sat up late gaming and chatting with his
mates online, and then slept in late.  When he got up he'd make himself
some breakfast and both of us a coffee, and then on some days he'd call me
through to the bathroom half an hour later.  I'd sit on the side of the
bath and we'd chat as he had his daily bowel movement, taking his time over
it like he usually did, and then when he was done I'd wipe his bottom for
him and we'd wank off together over it.  We didn't do that every day, but
we did adopt a pretty much open door policy about shitting.  Well, he did:
I usually shut it to keep the smell out of the flat, but on days when I
didn't go before he was up I'd let him know I was about to do it, and
sometimes he came with me.

Usually when it was a working day we just used the toilet, but sometimes
one or other of us squatted.  I loved the sight of him fresh from his bed
and morning coffee, squatting with his pants round his knees and his
T-shirt hitched up, curling out a turd onto the floor.  His shit turned me
on like nothing else.  I fucking loved the shape and colour of what his
beautiful body produced, and his delectable smell.  At first he looked a
bit shocked when I held my face right over his lumpy brown pile and
breathed in the heat and aroma as I wanked, but he soon got used to it and
he started doing the same with me.  He was so fucking sexy, and when he was
really turned on his dick throbbed and dribbled and danced even though he
wasn't touching it.  The sight of me squatting in front of him always had
him edging, and as often as not he used to cum before I'd even finished.
We experimented a bit with positions too.  I loved the sight of him doing
it on all fours with his back arched and his bottom down; a perfect young
hunk shitting like an animal, and I wanked off and came all over his
unwiped bottom.  Then one morning we both needed a shit at the same time,
and on impulse we dropped our pants, and sat down together on the side of
the bath with our bottoms hanging over the tub.  We had a slow, intense
dump together, watching each other's faces closely as we pushed and
giggling like kids when I let out a big wet fart.

Shitting together felt naughty and intimate, and it turned both of us on
massively, but he quickly became more comfortable with his shit fetish and
we got more familiar with each other, and we started getting more
adventurous.  We were cooped up together in the flat and our conventional
love lives had come to an end, and maybe the filthy sex we started to have
was a way of working off our frustration.  Besides, being under lockdown
gave us endless time to fantasise together and watch scat porn online, and
then put some of the ideas we'd had into practice when we needed to shit.
Both of us had imaginative, dirty minds and our fetishes and turn-ons
complemented each other very well, and in the nicest possible way he was a
horny young slut who got a massive kick out of pushing his sexual limits.

The lockdown had another effect too: our diets became more basic, and in
his case healthier.  I cooked us endless stews and curries and casseroles,
with loads of pulses and brown rice, and used the bread-maker my parents
had got me to make lovely crusty wholemeal loaves rather than nipping out
to the shop.  I'd always eaten like that so it didn't make much difference
to me, but it made Ed fart more often and shit a lot more.  He still went
once a day, but where before he usually did two long turds, now he might do
three, and sometimes even more on top of that, and his warm little smell
got a bit stronger as well.  I'd always remember one morning when he did a
particularly big one, and as I knelt with my face right over it, sniffing
deeply and fighting back the urge to plunge my face into his turds, he
wanked off and came all over my back and neck and hair.  I'd made sure we
were as well supplied with cleaning products as we were everything else,
but we got more plastic bags, bleach and disinfectant when we had to go out
shopping.  As we got more adventurous we started to need them!


* * * * *


I loved being with Ed when he needed a shit.  Just knowing that his perfect
young body was getting ready to defecate; that his full rectum was sending
him the 'you need go to the toilet' signal, sent a thrill of anticipation
through me.  I liked how he used to look all stiff and serious as the
pressure in his chute mounted.  He used to fart at first, but then he'd get
too full and he'd start to wince and clench his taut bottom up and squirm
in his seat.  It was so fucking sexy, such a gorgeous, confident lad in
such an embarrassing, uncomfortable predicament, and I used to get him to
hold it in as long as he could.  He used to get all excited too, and touch
himself through his pants whilst he screwed up his face in discomfort.

Ed was very regular and the routine of life under lockdown made him even
more so, but just on the odd day he either wouldn't need to shit in the
morning or not need to so badly that he couldn't ignore it, and on those
days he'd go later.  That was what happened on Tuesday afternoon, when I'd
just finished writing a difficult section about my research methods that
I'd been trying to get right for days.  I was just tidying up the last
couple of sentences and contemplating going and making a cup of tea to
reward myself when I heard him moving about.  Then I remembered how we'd
mentioned when we had lunch that he hadn't been earlier, and my heart raced
a bit.

'Cam...' he called from across the hall, 'I need a poo now.'

We made a drink and went and sat in the living room together.  He had that
serious look about him again, but today we was all intense and horny again.
For a couple of days I'd had my head down working and we hadn't seen much
of each other, and I got the impression that the beast was going to come
out roaring.  We'd ended up wanking and watching a bit of scat the night
before.  I remembered how turned on he'd got as in one video some trim lad
dirtied his pants and sat in it, and smeared his bottom and thighs with
shit.  He already knew I liked doing it, and although a couple of weeks
back when we'd only just started playing together he'd said it was too much
for him, now he'd wanked and mused on how it would feel to do it himself.
Now I glanced over at him as he sat fingering his mug and wondered what he
was thinking.  His expression stiffened for a moment.  I leaned in closer
and our eyes met.

'Ed ... that video last night...'

'Yeah.  That's what I was thinking about...'

He gulped and looked at the floor.  He looked very intense, almost scared,
even, but I could see he had a hard-on through his tracksuit.  His face
stiffened again and he fidgeted slightly.  He needed a shit badly now, and
he wasn't bothering to hide the hard-on tenting out the crotch of his
jogging pants.  I leaned towards him again, and he took a deep breath.

'I wanna do it,' he breathed.  'When I'm really desperate, and I can't hold
it...'

He got up suddenly and pulled down his tracksuit.  He modelled underwear
for a couple of retailers and catalogues, and he had a huge collection of
pants he'd been given as freebies.  He was wearing white trunks now;
stretchy ones that were tight across his bottom and showed off his
erection.  He stood and posed, wiggled his slim hips at me, and turned
round smiling.  He was fucking gorgeous, and the prospect of him doing his
shit into the pants he modelled had my dick thrusting urgently against my
jeans.  Then he screwed his face up and clenched his bottom, pulled his
jogging bottoms back up and sat down.

'You wanna be really, really desperate then?  Shall I make you an espresso?
You know what that does to you in the morning sometimes!'

'Ha ha, yeah, go on!' he chuckled.  'And then it really won't be long!'

I went and got him one, sat back down next to him and fondled his cock
through his pants.  He was very hard, and he let out a little whimper as I
fingered his shaft.  The coffee seemed to work quickly, and after only ten
minutes he started screwing his face up again cutely and squirming in his
seat.  A little fart escaped him, and the sultry smell made the scene even
hornier.

'I bet you've never posed for a shoot when you're desperate for a shit,
have you,' I said softly.  'nah, you wouldn't would you.  But ... strip
now.  Show me those pants you're wearing again...'

He gulped, stood up sharply and pulled his tracksuit down and his T-shirt
off, and stood in front of me.  He folded his arms across his chest and
looked down at me with that awesomely cool look he wore in his photos, just
for a moment before he clenched his bottom and winced.

'Oh I need a poo so bad!  I can't hold it much longer!' he groaned.
'Quick, you get naked too...'

Quickly I got up and stripped whilst he stood in the middle of the room,
jigging up and down and wriggling his hips with his face screwed up in
pain.  A bead of sweat ran down his cheek, and he shot me a tense smile as
he clocked my massive hard-on.  Then I knelt down on the floor in front of
him.  He turned away from me, put his hand on his hip and struck another
catalogue pose or two.  But then his chute started to cramp and push again
and he doubled over, squirming and groaning.  For a few minutes more he
struggled to hold it in, and almost danced in desperation with his thighs
clenched tight together.

Then suddenly he lost his battle.  He gasped and stood up straight, his
whole body tensed up and his bottom tightened even more as he squeezed his
hole up in one last frantic attempt to hold back his turd, but he was too
late.  Already I could hear the soft squelch and hiss, and then I got the
first whiff of his smell.  It was subtle and inviting, and it made my dick
throb.  He stuck his bottom back slightly and I saw he was actually
touching cloth.  There was a little dimple between his cheeks, and it
swelled up a little with a filthy, soft sound.  For a second he stood
there, still squirming and fighting to hold it in even as he skidmarked
those expensive pants and his warm, dirty smell thickened in the room.
Then he gave in.  He bent forward and stuck his bottom back towards me, the
squelch and hiss started up again, and the dimple grew into a lump and then
surged downwards with a crackle and a gasp.  More came out on top and the
bulge swelled backwards, and his smell hit me in full force.  It was
filthily, crazily erotic.  He strained a little and pushed out another one,
grunted and then straightened up, swaying from side to side slightly.  He
looked round with his face all flushed and intense.

'Okay?'  I asked.  'Feel nice?'

He nodded and turned to face me, and I saw that he'd been edging as he did
it.  There was a big sticky splash spreading out from the head of his cock.
He looked down at it, whimpering in his throat, then fumbled it hastily out
through the front of his trunks.  It was throbbing and swollen, actually
bobbing slightly up and down, its purple end all sticky and glistening.  He
struck a pose for a moment, pursing his lips.  A bit more pre-cum oozed
from him and I realised he was straining, and then he swung round away from
me again, parted his legs and bent forward.  He let out a moan and a long,
muffled fart, and pushed another solid turd into the seat of his pants.  It
piled up on his bottom, squelched and spread out, and pushed his bulge into
a great lumpy mound.

'Ah...' he sighed.  'Oh God...'

He turned around to face me.  His dick was going crazy and he was trembling
all over, whimpering as if he was about to cum.  I reached out and put a
hand on his arm, and he stood still and composed himself for a few seconds.
He looked all shocked at what he'd just done, and he drew breath sharply as
he moved and it rubbed against his skin.

'Phew!  Ooh it feels good...' he sighed, and laughed suddenly.  'Can't
believe I've fucking pooed myself!  Ugh!  Ooh, it does feel really nice
though.  It's all warm and ...ooh ... it's so heavy...'

'Yeah!  You've done such a big one.  Can I see it?  Turn round...'

He turned away again and bent forward a little, so I could pull out the
back of his waistband and look down at the great lumpy brown clump nestling
against his bottom.  I sniffed at the warm fug rising up from it.

'God you smell so nice!' I breathed.  'Pose for me again...?'

He stepped away from me and struck one of his photo shoot poses, looking
back over his shoulder with smouldering eyes, and stuck his bum back to
emphasise the size of his bulge.  I got him to stand and wiggle his bum a
bit, and then squat slowly down.  His shit pressed against his bottom and
the back of his balls and the sensitive bit in between, and he gave a
little whimper and rocked backwards and forwards.  He did it harder, in a
humping movement, and straightened up suddenly.

'Oh!  Oh!  Ooh ... I'm gonna cum!'

He clenched up tight and just managed to stop himself, but his dancing cock
dribbled another big gout of sticky white cum onto the wooden floor.  He
stood trembling for a few seconds, and I reached out and touched him again.

'Sit in it,' I said.  'It feels properly incredible, trust me.'

He gasped a little and his mouth fell open as he took in what I'd said.
He'd seen it done and he knew I did it, but I don't think he ever expected
he'd do it.  He stood and stared at me, and then swayed his hips.  He was
so cutely vocal when he was really turned on like this, and he let out
little helpless whimpers as his shit rubbed gently to and fro on his
bottom.  His dick had softened a bit, but now it stood right up again,
throbbing and twitching.

'Sit in your big shit,' I said again.  'You'll cum so hard, I promise.
Feels tremendous as you squish it all over your bottom!'

'Oh God...' he moaned.  'Oh yes, I'll do it ... I'll sit in it.  Fuck, this
is ... it's so nasty, but it's amazing!  It's all gooey and warm...'

'Mmm!  Come on then...'

I got up and took his hand, and got him to lead the way over to the
bathroom so I could watch his bottom.  He waddled cutely with his load
swinging to and fro, put down the toilet lid and turned to face me.  The
smell followed us in and thickened the air, and I got him to wriggle his
hips and bend over slightly again, and hump the air until his dick went
crazy again.  He stopped, breathing hard and letting out little moans.  I
reached out and picked up the poppers bottle from the side, took a sniff
and handed them to him with my head starting to rush.  He took a long sniff
and sighed, and his dick pulsated.

'Now ... sit,' I said simply.

He gulped.  But then he fixed his eyes on mine and lowered himself down
with a soft squelch and a whimper.  He hesitated for just a second with his
bottom hovering over the seat, and then took a deep breath and sat right
down.  His shit squashed loudly, his head shot up and he looked at me for a
split second with eyes wide and mouth falling open, and then he came like a
volcano.  His body jerked as if he'd had an electric shock, he squealed out
loud, and his dick fired spunk explosively all over the floor.  He slumped
down on the toilet, looking drained, and looked down in faint disgust.

'Ugh ... such a mess...'

'It's okay.  I'll clean you up.  You just get in the bath and take your
pants down.'

I grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and a spare toilet roll – yes, we had
loads! - pushed some ordinary toiletries away from the action, and stepped
up behind him as he pulled his pants down.  His big brown clump was well
flattened across the back of his pants and they fell to the floor with a
squelchy thud when they got past his knees, and there was a big
semicircular brown patch on his bottom.  I reached in and grabbed the pants
and bagged them up quickly.

'Now, before you turn the shower on, want me to piss on your messy bottom?'

He looked round sharply and for a moment I thought he'd stopped enjoying
the situation, but then he relaxed and nodded, and knelt down so that I
could get into the bath behind him and hose his smeared cheeks down with
piss before I turned the shower on to wash him down properly.  It was then
that I came too, in the shower when he was clean and I'd washed him down
with disinfectant and we'd hosed away all the traces of what he'd done.  He
started to get another hard-on and he made a grab for my cock and wanked me
off, and at the last minute I spun him round and shot all over his
beautiful arse.

Afterwards we settled on the sofa with a beer.  It was the first time he'd
actually touched shit in a sexual sense, and he admitted he was a bit
shocked at himself.  He'd never really thought about actually getting
messy, and now he felt a bit guilty and self-conscious, as if he still
smelled of shit and needed another shower.  He soon relaxed, though.  It
had been tremendously horny for both of us, and he was up for doing more of
it, and he winked at me and said he'd love to see how an experienced
pants-shitter did it.  Later that evening I cooked us a big dinner, and we
sat up late and drank a bottle of wine.  He wriggled closer to me on the
sofa, leaned to the side and farted, and smiled sexily.

'That tagine thing you cooked...' he mused. 'Well, that had loads of chick
peas and apricots and other stuff in it that really makes you shit, didn't
it.'

'Yeah, I did think of that!'

'I thought you did!  Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow, if we feel like it...'


* * * * *


The next morning we woke up together in my bed, faintly hung over and horny
right from the start.  I should have gone and started work, but as we kept
exchanging excited little grins as we ate a slice of toast and drank a pot
of coffee together it was pretty obvious that wasn't going to happen.  In
my mind I wrote the day off and contemplated what was going to happen
instead.  We hadn't actually made a plan or anything, but then we didn't
need to: we both knew what we wanted to happen!  Then I started to need a
shit.  At first I thought it was one of those loose hangover shits that
would send me running to the bathroom, but then it seemed to ease off a
bit, and instead I felt a slowly growing, solid pressure inside me.  Across
the table I saw Ed's face stiffen as if he needed the toilet.  He took a
sip of his coffee, looked up and saw my face, and smiled.

'Do you...?' I asked.

'Yeah, big time.'

'So do I.'  I leaned towards him.  'So ... who can hold it the longest?
Get desperate together...?'

Half an hour later we were in the living room in our pants and dressing
gowns, with another pot of coffee.  I'd gone and cleared the bath of soap
and shower gels, and got the disinfectant out in anticipation of us making
a mess and plastic bags to cover the floor and to clear things away with
afterwards.  I'd gone and put on some suitable pants as well; old grey
boxer briefs that were getting a bit tatty but were still nice and tight,
and when he joined me in the living room with the coffee pot I saw he'd
gone and changed as well.  He was wearing briefs; white designer ones that
hugged his luscious bottom and his semi bulged out at the front.  He was
holding in a fart, he said, and I got him to come over and stand in front
of my, pull the back of his pants down a little and bend over so I could
get my head under his dressing gown and my nose between his cheeks.  He
farted right in my face, and then clenched up quickly.

'Ooh ... I really need to go!' he breathed.

I kept my head under his dressing gown for a moment, inhaling his fart like
poppers and growing as big a hard-on as I've ever had, and reached round to
wank him through his briefs.  For a moment it distracted me from the pain
in my chute.  I was really desperate for a shit by then, and he smirked
when he turned around and saw me squirming, trying to fight back an almost
uncontrollable push from my bowels.

'Gonna poo yourself soon, Cam,' he grinned, fingering his erection through
his crotch.  'You can't hold it much longer, can you.'

'No, I don't think I can.'  I winced as I fought down another spasm.  'Can
you?'

'No.  Not for much longer.  God I need the toilet!'

We went for a walk around the flat, both walking stiffly with our arses
clenched up tight and hard-ons bulging out our pants.  Walking made the
need to shit even more urgent, and when we went into the bathroom and saw
the toilet I doubled right over, clutching my backside and groaning.  My
arsehole was clenched rigid, but even so I could feel my shit starting to
force it open.  A turtle's head was slowly coming further out no matter how
hard I tried to stop it.  I was shitting myself and there was nothing I
could do about it.  He saw what was happening and his face lit up, and he
stepped around behind me, breathing hard and pawing at his cock through his
pants.  I had tacky shit in my crack now, forcing its way between my
clenched cheeks, and all of a sudden I could smell it.  Like he'd done I
stood there for a second or two, bent slightly forwards with my are
sticking out, teetering on the edge with my dick throbbing.  I heard him
draw breath behind me right as my head blew apart.  The awful, ecstatic
moment of losing control of myself; the sheer pervertedness; the shame of
it; the sound and the smell and the awesome physical sensation as I did a
huge shit in my pants actually made me cry out. He glanced at the floor as
if he thought the neighbours downstairs might hear, and stood and wanked
and stared at me.  I could see his face in the mirror, his eyes wide and
his mouth open in amazement.  I pretty much emptied my bowels in one long,
crackling rush that started off firm but then got a bit softer, so that
when I gave a push a surge of slimy hot shit squashed loudly across my arse
and shot forwards behind my balls and I let out a big wet fart.

'Cor!  Fucking hell Cam!'

I grunted and strained, farted again and pushed out a few small turds, then
straightened up and turned around to him.  He wasn't wanking now, but his
dick was twitching in his pants, still looking at me in awe, but also
shuffling his feet in discomfort.

'Fucking hell Cam!' he said again.  'God ... you must have been desperate!
How does it feel?'

'Incredible!  Seriously, you've no idea how good that felt!  Phew ... ooh
it does stink a bit!'

'Yeah!' he said enthusiastically, but then screwed his face up.  'Oh ... oh
I really need to go too.  I need to poo so bad!'

He took my hand and led me quickly through the flat.  I waddled awkwardly
with my shit pushing about on my backside and the smell following us,
gasping with the sensation.  His room was the bigger of the two, with his
bed on one side and his big, expensive home gym set up on the other, next
to the wardrobe with the full-length mirrors on the inside of the doors.
He was clenching tight as he went and stood at the end of the bench he did
his weights on, bent over and put his hands on it, and stuck his beautiful
bottom out.  He shuffled his feet one last time and then went still, and he
looked round and met my eyes.  His expression suddenly became blissful, and
he relaxed all over and let his aching body take control.  He did a big
solid turd that pushed the back of his pants out into a point, started to
bend, and then snapped and collapsed into a lumpy bulge.  He let out a
little whimper and straightened up a bit, wriggling his bottom slowly, but
then his face stiffened and he went down again.  His bottom filled out as
he strained, grunting softly, and he drew breath and pushed out another
hefty turd that pushed his bulge down and slightly back, and swelled it up
to more than the size of a cricket ball, all lumps and bumps with brown
little spots of moisture starting to come through.  I could smell it too:
even over the stink over my own I could tell he was quite ripe that
morning.  I leaned in close behind him and sniffed at his bottom, breathed
in the smell of the young model's shit as he did it in his designer pants,
and right in front of my face he started to grunt and push again.  He
forced out another turd, and another that sounded softer and smaller.

'Ooh!' he sighed.  'Oh that felt good!'

He stood up straight again and turned around to face me.  His briefs
couldn't contain his erection, and he fumbled it partly out so it stood up
above his waistband, its end all sticky with the cum he'd emitted as he was
shitting.  He looked on and smiled as I got mine out too, thrusting out in
front of me like a gun.  For a minute or two we both stood there, wriggling
our hips and savouring the sensations on our arses and the sensitive bits
behind our balls, stiff cocks bouncing in front of us.  The smell of what
we'd both done filled the room.

'Uh,' he grunted.  'Oh I wanna sit in it again.  You gonna sit too?'

'Oh yes!  Feels so good sitting in a big load like this, and I properly
love having a big brown arse.  Wanna see me make a real mess...?'

'Cor!  Fucking hell yeah!'

He grabbed my hand and half-dragged me across the hall, with shit pushing
about on our backsides and the vapour trail following us again.  In the
bathroom he turned to me with his dick up and dancing and his face all
intense, and he stood and watched in awe as I sat in my shit.  I lowered
the toilet lid, turned around and sat down firmly, and almost came as it
exploded across my bottom.  For a few seconds I lost control completely and
squirmed about in my mess, and then as I calmed down I met his wide eyes.

'Fuck ... that's so hot!' he breathed.  'Let's see...'

I stood up part way and turned around to show him the mess.  In the mirror
I could see a great brown half-circle squashed across my cheeks and nearly
up to my waistband.  My stink seemed even stronger now.  I sat back down
again, and got him to move in front of me, bending over and squatting and
humping the air until he was whimpering and edging, and then to calm him
down I got him to stand in front of me again, facing away with his hips
thrust back so I could sniff his dirty bottom, and pull his pants out at
the back to admire the big brown clump nestling against it.  He strained as
I looked and let out a little squeaky fart, all muffled in his shit.

'You sit too,' I said.  'Go and get a chair or something.'

He turned around and grinned at me, and walked out of the room with his
shit swaying to and fro on his bottom, leaving me sitting there in my own.
I fumbled in the cupboard and found the poppers bottle, and then a moment
later he came back in holding a wooden stool he kept in his room.  He put
it on the floor in front of me, took the poppers and had a deep sniff, and
then stood over it and lowered himself down.  His eyes were nearly closed
in ecstasy.  He reached out and put a hand on his arm.

'Turn around.  I wanna see your shit squish!'

He turned round, breathing hard, and lowered himself back down onto the
stool right in front of me.  His tight pants pressed his load against his
skin and he moaned, and then his bulge touched the seat, spread out a
little, and then squashed across his bottom as he sat in his turds.  His
head shot up and his body tensed, and he let out a long, quavering gasp.
For a second I thought he'd cum, but then he wriggled lightly from side to
side with a squish and a contented sigh, and shuffled himself round to face
me.  He'd fumbled his dick right out now, and it bobbed and danced in front
of him.  For a few minutes we sat and squished and wriggled about together,
sharing the amazing sensations in our pants, and he leaned back to show me
where shit was squashing out around his thighs, vivid brown against the
white plastic toilet lid.

'Cor!  I can't believe how fucking nice this feels!' he breathed hoarsely.
'I'm covered in shit, but it's so good.  I wanna get so messy!'

'Heh, really?  Messier than you are now?'

'Yeah!'  He squirmed to and fro again.  'Oh fuck, what's happening?!  I
feel like I wanna get so fucked up and messy, and the nastier it is the
harder I'm gonna cum!'

'Ooh!  Yeah I know that feeling!  Like this?!'

I started to squirm and wriggle hard and bounce up and down, so that my
shit went everywhere and started to leak out around my thighs and squash
out of the top at the back.  I'd never been so turned on in my life, and
once again he looked down at the floor and put a finger to his lips to keep
me quiet.  His eyes were wide and his dick was throbbing, and then when I'd
stopped and sat there edging he began to move too, sliding backwards and
forwards until he too had shit squashing out of his pants.  He sat back
again with spunk dribbling onto the floor.

'More...?'

He nodded eagerly.  His face was fierce and intense and he was trembling
all over.

'Okay, get in the bath.'

He climbed in and bent over, showing the big mess he'd made already, and
then I got in behind him and took his hips in my hands.

'Ready...?'

He nodded, and I grabbed him tight and pulled his bottom back onto me
humped him hard and smeared shit all over his bottom.  He gasped out loud,
and then his voice shot up a couple of octaves and he squealed.  I reached
round in front to wank his cock as his shit squashed out of his pants and
covered my crotch.  The filthiness was unbelievable, and the buzz was like
nothing I'd ever felt!

'Oh!  Oh I'm gonna cum!'

Quickly I stepped back and hauled his pants down.  His cheeks were brown
all over and now he had big smears down the back of his thighs as well.  He
grabbed his cock and wanked frantically, and then we came together and I
cried out again and spurted all over his brown bottom.

Cleaning up was a pretty horrible job.  As normality returned he looked
around us and down at the mess, and gagged a little.

'It's okay, I'll get you clean,' I said.

Quickly I opened the window to disperse the smell, and got in with him.
I'd left a bag handy by the bath and now I dropped both of our destroyed
pairs of pants into it, and then turned the shower on full to hose him
down.  It took a long time to get both of our bodies clean and then start
on the bath itself, and when I had to push one lump down the plughole he
looked on in disgust, gagged again, and for a moment I thought he was about
to be sick.  He soon relaxed, though, once all the shit was gone and the
smell was dispersing and mingling with the disinfectant we washed our
bodies with and the bleach I splashed around the bath.

We ended up giving the whole flat a bit of a clean, partly because it
needed it and partly just to assuage the slight sense of guilt and
dirtiness such a messy session had left us with.  By the time we'd done
that he was cheerful and laughing again, and I made us a cup of tea.  We
sat down in the living room and chatted for a bit.  I'd thought at first
that we'd gone too far and freaked him out, but then he took a sip of his
tea and winked, and came out with something that surprised me.  He'd been
thinking about how sex when he was tied up turned him on, and scat when he
was tied up would be even better.  It had never been something that
interested me but I was up for trying, and it opened up some fun
possibilities.  He saw my face and chuckled sexily, and I realised our next
messy session wasn't going to be long in coming!



Enjoyed this?  You can find a complete list of my stories on the prolific
author page.  Name: namab mas

Feedback and ideas are very welcome: namabmas@gmail.com