After my dirty experiences with my buddy, Darby, I was hard-pressed to find another guy as willing to get low-down and stink-filthy with the ass. What made it all so sinfully delicious and exciting with us was no one had a clue we were faggin' off with each other. We both had girlfriends, played competitive sports and kept up macho fronts for the public eye. The more we messed around, the bolder we got. At school, Darby might walk up to me in the gym locker room when no one was looking, push his butt into my crotch and break hard wind. He'd grin dirtily over his shoulder and grind his ass against my dick, going, "Aahhhhh, yeaahhhh. I'm horny as all fuck, man. Stop by the house after school. The folks won't be home until late." Of course, he could've called on one of his girlfriends to relieve his sexual tension easy enough. Babes adored Darby. But chicks wouldn't wallow in the pig trough with him like I would. We were each other's human sex toilet. He could do depraved stuff with me he couldn't do with anyone, and vice versa.
We got into some nary scenes in Darby's basement. One of our favorites was stripping down to our skivvies, one of us lying on his back while the other straddled him, slowly raising and lowering his ass to the other guy's face. With his muscled butt hovering near my face, Darby would let go a breeze of smelly poot, and then start pissing. His warm yellow piss would leak through his shorts, splattering down on my face and chest. Sometimes I'd open my mouth wide and he'd press his crotch to it, and then piss his shorts while I lipped his dick and nut through the wet fabric. This worked us up for the main event.
Teasing me with vulgar ass squats, up and down - - poot! Up and down - -poot! Darby would stop, hold his butt inches from my face and noisily fill his tightie-whities with hot brown shit. The smell made my head swoon. He'd have his cook out, jerkin' it furiously, bucking and rolling his hips like a gutter whore with his knees bent. All I'd see was those sexy, clenching buttocks and the dark lump growing in his shorts. Then he'd lower his ass down so the big donkey mound pressed flat against my face.
"Yeeeahhh, smell that?" he'd taunt me, squirming his ass around. "Yeeeaah. Get a good, long huff, man!" I'm jackin' so hard and moanin' so loud, when I shoot my wad it squirts halfway across the room. I cum in buckets! Next time, we switch places - - Darby on his back, my ass in his face.
Other times, we'd snort lines of coke and huff poppers squat over a mop bucket in the basement or over a toilet in the upstairs bathroom, spread our butt cheeks apart and watch each other fart big, long, fudge turds. I'd never seen a boy's butthole stretch as wide as Darby's when he was squeezin' out a log. And he could grunt them out thick and firm where he'd pause halfway with the big brownie protruding from his buttocks like a butt plug. He'd admire his nasty work in the bathroom mirror, swiveling his hips this way and that to get a good view, then reach back to feel it. We played with each other's turds on several memorable occasions.
Darby was the first boy I ever fucked up the ass. Our fucks were so hot his shit hole was so tight and felt so good, I'd op a boner in my pants just watching him strut down the hall at school with a pretty chick on his arm.
Then Darby moved across the state and I was without a freak buddy. I dated a lot of hot girls, some kinky, but none into the really piggy stuff. My folks had me enrolled at State College when I turned 19 and things started to pick up a bit. My first week on campus, one of the sub-teachers cruised me in the parking lot, then followed me into the men's room in the Creative Arts Dept. He was about 45, Greek and good looking for an older guy. I walked down the line, checking toilet stalls while he went over to the pisser. Satisfied we were alone for the first time being, I entered one of the rear stalls and waited. Seconds later, the teacher followed me in and locked the latch. The front of his dress slacks had a vulgar bulge in them. He was lightly squeezing it with his fingers and looking me over. You ever get that tight, almost nauseous feeling in your gut when something really turns you on? Like you have to take a mean dump or blow some gas you've been saving for hours? That's how I felt right then, standing in that smelly toilet stall with a strange man almost twice my age, about to commit an obscene act with him.
He put his hand on my crotch and squeezed it and I fondled his thick cock bulge through his slacks. I could tell the dude had a big one. He unzipped his fly, reached inside and pulled it free. I was right. The fucker's schlong looked like a baby's arm, very veiny, thick and uncut. I unbuttoned my trousers and pushed them partway down with my shorts, thinking the guy wanted to do some mutual cock sucking.
"Turn around," he said. "Show me your ass. I don't wanna fuck just look and touch."
I did as he asked, bending over the shitter and pushing my buttocks back. He ran his hands over my buns, up my crack, going, "Maaaan, you have a pretty one." The dirty teacher squatted down and stuck his nose in my ass crack, moving it around and sniffing. My dick sprang rock-hard. He started tonguing my fart hole, teasing my anus; make it puff in and out. I put my hands against the wall and worked my butt in a lewd humping motion, real slow, grinding into the guy's scratch face. He was jackin' off and groaning like he'd been shot. The force of his head burrowing into my butt crack had my hips lurching and swaying. He strained so hard to push his whole tongue in my poop chute; I heard ass-wind burp from the seat of his pants. The sound was piggish and turned me on. Someone entered the bathroom and the guy pulled his face away, staggering to his feet. I made a face and a warm fart wheezed out of my butthole. I grabbed some shit paper and wiped his spit from my crack, and then pulled up my pants. My dick was still hard as a steel pole. So was his.
"Meet me outside," he said in a quiet voice, barely above a whisper. Stuffing his penis back in his pants, he zipped up and left.
When I came out of the men's room the guy was talking to a female student by the drinking fountain at the end of the hallway. He made eye contact as I walked by him, heading outside. Moments later, he followed me out and met me by the steps.
"My name is Dimitri," he told me. "What's yours?"
"Freddie," I said.
"Well, Freddie, I could make a meal of your sexy ass. That's my fetish: young men with tight, lovely butts. You like to get rimmed?"
"Yeah. A lot," I said.
"Do you rim?"
"Uh huh."
"Slowly and for a long time?"
"Yeah. I like that."
"Do you get fucked?" Dimitri asked. His questions were getting me hard.
"Yeah. Sometimes."
"Well," he said. "When it comes to anal pleasure, I'm pretty shameless. I love to please and be pleased. I'd love to invite you over to my place for a drink, maybe a little smoke, and to pick up where we left off. Interested?"
"Okay."
Dimitri gave me directions how to get to his apartment and his phone number, in case I got lost. I didn't follow him in my car because I had to stop by my place to feed the dog and put her out in the backyard. Somehow, between the school and my place, I ended up losing both his number and address. On top of that, I never saw him on campus again. Not once.
Nevertheless, I soon discovered a whole sleazy, seamier side to college life, i.e., the campus restrooms in between classes. There were so many young queers guys getting it on with each other in the toilets, campus security started patrolling them. That didn't stop anything. They figured out which bathrooms were the least patrolled and hung out there instead. There were big, gaping holes cut in the stall partitions for guts to stick their cocks through or back their assholes up to. Funny as it may sound; the filthiest guys seemed to be the mild, timid-looking, computer science majors with dorky glasses and New Wave haircuts. Those geeks used to hang out for hours at a time in the men's rooms, loitering on the toilets, suckin' cock after cock as they passed through the glory holes. More than a few were craven ass-eaters. Real butthole swine. You always could tell these guys because they'd walk in the bathroom and go stand at the urine trough like they were pissing. They'd stand there and break vulgar wind, one at after another, peeking back over their shoulder at the stalls to see who was watching. This one little redheaded geek with coke bottle glasses got his kicks by squattin' behind dudes while they stood at the urinals pissing. He'd press his nose to their butts to smell their gas through their pants and furiously masturbate. Huffing guys' farts would excite him so, he often crapped his pants in the process. Then he'd jump up and flee the bathroom with a seat full of dodo. The same little guy is now regional manager of a big West Coast electronics store chain you've probably heard of.
More to come from AssFrkNasty and soon...