This story depicts acts of a homosexual nature and includes frank descriptions of watersports, raunch and scat. If you are underage or offended by this type of behavior, please do not read any further. If you like the story, please send me an email: nastybottom_in_vegas@yahoo.com
A week had passed since that last amazing scene with my carpenter. No calls, no visits, nothing. I was beginning to think that he wasn't going to come here again. Why would he go to the trouble of building this elaborate bathroom setup if he wasn't going to use it? I was beginning to get bummed. Finally I had found the guy who could fulfill my nastiest desires and he had forgotten me. Then, almost two weeks later, I got a call.
"Fag." He said.
"Yes." I replied, my heart beating.
"I'm not in town," he said as my heart sank. "Back tomorrow. 2:30."
"OK," I said as the click cut me off. Well, only another twenty four hours to wait. I guess I can handle that.
I kind of puttered around the house for a couple of hours, and then began to think. Maybe I should go ahead and set up the restroom, just in case I forgot how it all went together. I was rationalizing to myself so I could get the thing set up and enjoy it.
I dragged out all the pieces and positioned the toilet in its place. Then I set up the three walls and used the bent nails he had slipped through the hinges to hold it all together. The I set the ceiling panel on top of it and plugged in the cord that ran to the bare lightbulb. I went to my bedroom and dressed in my butchest clothes. Flannel shirt, torn jeans and tan workboots. I caught myself in the mirror and realized I could have been one of his coworkers on the job site. I went to the fridge and grabbed my poppers and walked out and around the house. I slipped through the front door and into my fantasy restroom.
I looked around and thought to myself, "Well, it's almost complete." It needed something. It needed a few more items to make it more believable. I went back into the house and grabbed an old trash can that had been hanging out in the garage, an old plunger and a well used toilet brush. I also grabbed an old framed mirror and stuff to hang it with. I stopped at my real bathroom and emptied the trash into the can for the fake bathroom, gathered up all the stuff and took it through the front door.
I put the trash can, plunger and bowl brush beside the toilet and hung the mirror directly opposite the toilet. I hoped this would turn him on, not piss him off. One last thing: I went and grabbed a sharpie marker from my office and carried it into the new restroom with me. I dropped my pants and sat on the shitter. As I looked around I was transported by the sights and smells to a place where my deepest, darkest fantasies were quickly becoming my reality. I inhaled a hit of the poppers and absent mindedly played with my cock and balls as I wrote on the wall above the hole. It blended with the other graffiti, but if his attention to detail was as strong as I expected, he wouldn't miss it. I wrote,"Free fuck and suck service." and drew an arrow pointing to the hole.
I sat there and passed a fart into the bowl and admired the handiwork, both mine and his. I was rapidly becoming aroused and I decided, hell, he won't be here until tomorrow. I may as well jerk off. I sat on the john, stroking my cock and smelling the stench of a poorly maintained shitter and worked up my load. I jerked it harder and faster until finally I popped my load into my waiting hand. I wiped it clean with some toilet paper and dropped it in the trash. Then reached back and wiped what litte brown was around my hole off and dropped it in the can too, adding my aromas to this perfiectly built restroom. I stood up. Just about to pull up my jeans when I spied the hole. I stuck my still semi-hard cock into the hole and looked around. I noticed that if I moved the mirror over a little, I would get a remarkable view of myself fucking the hole. I got my tools, moved the mirror and surveyed the changes, hoping I hadn't gone too far.
As I walked out the front door, I turned and closed the lid of the toilet, just like he had left it before.
As 2:30 neared the next day, I went around to the front door and made my last minute inspection of the can. It looked and smelled great. I dropped a fart bomb and quickly left, closing the door behind me. Hopefully some of the smell will still be lingering when he got here.
I made my way back into the house, stripped, grabbed my poppers and slid into place just as I heard the door open. He walked in and closed the door, I heard a deep sniff and sounds like he was stretching. The sound of his belt buckle being opened, his zipper going down slowly, the the rustle of jeans. With the poppers coursing through my veins, my blood was pounding alsmost loud enough for me to hear it reverberating through the toilet bowl. Through the crack between the seat and lid, I saw him turning to look around. Then I saw him reach into the trash can and pull out some paper. Then more deep sniffing sounds. Bingo! I had guessed right, he was as nasty as I was and he was getting off on smelling a stranger's ass wipe. I heard him stroke his cock a few times and then turn around. He lifted the lid without even looking back and sat squarely down on my mouth.
"Ahhh," he moned as he blasted a loud fart into the bowl. I sniffed it up and began to lick around his ass crack. As usual, it was sweaty with a smearing of shit that had not been wiped away. I licked all around the hole and finally started to make my assault on his tight manhole. The taste was slightly different today. Something I would come to realize was just variations in his diet. It tasted great. Man I was a fuckin pig! He was riding my tongue as usual but he seemed to be a little preoccupied.
I heard him say, almost as if to himself. "Free fuck huh? I wonder if there's a chick in the next stall?"
I quickly slid out from the can and crawled around to the hole. I pressed my mouth up to it and formed a seal around it. Tasting the dried remains of god knows how many blowjobs that had happened through this hole. He pushed his finger through the hole as if checking out my tongue then he stood up and slid his cock into my waiting mouth. He slid in and out several times as I slobbered all over his mantool. The he pulled out.
"Push you cunt up against the hole, bitch." He ordered gruffly. "I want some of that free pussy."
I quickly stood up and turned around, bending over and centering my hole on the gloryhole opening. The breeze caused by his movements were causing my mancunt to twitch. I heard him hawk up some spit as only a real man can and jumped a bit as he spit it directly onto my hole. Then I felt him line up his cock at my asshole. Suddenly I was gasping for breath as he sunk the entire length into my hole in one stroke. I swear I saw stars as I felt the weight of his body slam against the wall. No points for subtlety for this guy. As soon as he was in, he was sliding back out again, not even giving me a moment to catch my breath. After several minutes of fucking my ass roughly, he pulled all the way out.
I heard him say, "suck."
I spun around and locked my lips around the hole again. He slid his pole into my waiting mouth again, but this time it was different, this time I was eating my own shit from his tool. I gagged a little and retched at the taste, but I got through it. I cleaned off his tool and began to suck him in earnest. Just as I thought he was going to come, he pulled out. Grabbing his nut sack and squeezing it, pulling the sack down and stretching it. He backed up to the toilet and sat back down.
Taking this as my cue, I once again slid under his ass to take my rightful place. As soon as I was in position, he farted again. As I was sniffing, his hole started to flower open and I saw the tip of a turd poking out. I quickly wrapped my lips around it and locked onto his hole. This time though, he didn't stop at half an inch, it kept going.
"Holy shit, what do I do with it? It'll choke me if it keeps going." I thought.
He sensed that enough had come out to get to the back of my throat I guess, but instead of pinching it off, he just managed to stop it. I laid there, the smell and taste of the turd clouding all my senses. It lay on my tongue and my eyes watered. Finally I realized what he expected of me. Against everything that my brain was telling me, I bit through the creamy textured turd and quickly swallowed, trying not to think of what I was doing. I took a deep breath and pulled my poppers bottle up to my nose, man did I need this. I inhaled deeply a few times and when I was back in the right brain space, once again I locked my lips around his hole.
As before, his man shit began descending into my mouth and finally the end of the turd exited his hole and slipped easily down my throat. It was getting easier and my mind was reeling with the implications. I was doing the most taboo thing in the world this side of murder. And without thinking about it, my cock was rock hard.
After he was done shitting, he started to jerk himself. I started to stroke my own cock and surprisingly blew my load just as he was beginning to grunt and blow his too. He sat there for a few more minutes and I realized that he had picked up the marker and was writing on the wall as I softly licked away any traces of shit on his pucker. Then he shifted forward a little and tucked his cock into the bowl. He started pissing as I quickly raised my head and wrapped my lips around the head, swallowing down his golden nectar. After his stream trickled to a finish, I sucked the head and worked the tube with my tongue to clear the remaining drops.
He stood up a little, leaned forward and wiped his ass, this time, dropping his used shitpaper on the floor, just missing the trash can. He stood up, closed the lid and I was left in the dark only to hear the sounds of him pulling up his pants and zipping. He opened the door and walked out, leaving me to jerk off again.
After I finished up, I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, feeling a little nauseous and a lot degraded. I got dressed and walked around to the front of the house. "How odd this must look to my neighbors." I thought, as I caught a glimpse of Joe who lived next door.
"Hey Alex," Joe said with his usual friendly smile. I walked over to him and we talked over the fence. "You getting some work done on the house?"
"No, why do you ask?" I said, realizing too late what he meant.
"You've had a carpenter over here a few times, just thought you might be getting some work done." He said.
"Oh that, yeah, I'm getting some bathroom work done. Nothing too major." I smoothly lied to him.
"I see." he replied, then got an odd look on his face. "Man, did you fart or something? I think you need to check your pants. It smells like you shit yourself." He laughed.
My face turned beet red I'm sure as I realized he was smelling my breath. "Um yeah, I farted, sorry man... ya know, silent but deadly. I'll catch you later." I quickly turned and walked into the front door.
I was once again caught off guard as I was transported into the public john. I sat on the lid of the toilet and tried to catch my breath. I was overreacting. It's all good. Then I noticed the new writing on the wall. It said simply:
"Hot Action - M-F 2:30pm"
Well, I guess I had my orders, but could I do this five days a week? Fuck, can HE do this five days a week?