This fictional story depicts acts of a homosexual nature and includes frank descriptions of piss, raunch and scat. If you are under age or offended by this type of behavior, please do not read any further. If you like the story or have ideas for new chapters, please send me an email: buttsniffer777@gmail.com.
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Enjoying the View
By Butt Sniffer777
Chapter One
I have a good job working in a white-collar industry, even though I'm a blue-collar guy by nature. I'm fortunate to have an office with a large picture window on the ground floor of a multi-story building, and I've enjoyed being able to look out and see what's happening as life passes by. There are some hot guys who work in other offices, and it's always a treat to ogle the eye candy as those men go in and out of the main entrance just down from my window. Having sexy men walk by the window on a regular basis certainly hasn't helped my productivity over the years, but it's helped me to love my job!
A couple months ago I was chatting with the building manager in passing, and he told me that the management company had decided to give the front of the building a facelift with the goal of selling it in the next few years. Since the building is fairly old, they'd decided to take out the current landscaping and build a series of terraces along with better ADA access and an exterior facelift. It was going to be a year-long project, and the thought of seeing hunky construction workers outside of my office window for the coming year made my crotch tingle and my mouth water. The building manager kept me in the loop on the expected timing of demolition and construction, and I eagerly awaited breaking ground.
One Monday I came into the office early and was greeted with the sight of a couple construction workers starting to put up fencing around the work area. Since the main entrance was going to be closed during part of construction, a new temporary ramp was going to be built right outside my window, allowing visitors and workers to access the building from a side entrance. The guys setting up fences were pretty decent, but not super hot. I was a bit disappointed after the weeks of fantasizing about the studs who would be on the job, and after watching for a few minutes I turned back to my terminal and the work on my desk. I had some complex stuff to work on, so I focused on the task at hand and bit by bit I forgot about the goings-on outside the window.
After about an hour, I heard muffled voices on the other side of the glass, and I turned to my left to see who was there. HOLY FUCK. The construction manager had showed up - at least I figured he was the construction manager, as he had his hardhat on and was holding a clipboard along with a roll of architect's drawings tucked into one armpit. The guy was a fucking stud - a silver daddy with a close-cropped beard wearing tight, double-knee Carhartts and black Danner construction boots. He had a polo shirt on with the construction company logo on it. The guy was big and buxom, but firm, and his ass was magnificent - a true work of art. The ample curve of each slab of ass filled out every bit of his Carhartts, and the back seam of his pants cut perfectly into the cleft of his beefy ass, highlighting both globes of stud butt beautifully. I involuntarily gasped, completely mesmerized by the hefty, broad-shouldered guy standing with his back turned to me. He was talking with the guys who had been setting up fences, and I immediately wheeled my chair a bit to the side so that the fencing guys were out of my line of sight but I could still see Stud Boss Man's spectacular ass. I could feel my mouth watering, and I knew that the year ahead was going to be much better than I'd even imagined if this god was in charge of the project.
So much for getting anything done at work - all thoughts of the spreadsheet opened in front of me went by the wayside as I obsessed about the amazing view going back and forth outside my window. This guy was major jack-off material, and I took out my phone and surreptitiously snapped some pics of his round, firm ass as he stood in front of my office, focused as he was on the work his crew had begun. I knew what I'd be doing tonight when I got home - jacking off to pics of my newest obsession! As he walked back and forth, I could see that he filled out the front of his Carhartts just as beautifully as his ass did the seat of his jeans, and his thighs looked like two Christmas hams, meaty and shapely. He had a slight, firm gut. The effect was one of voluptuousness rather than fat. It was lust at first sight.
I tried in vain to keep going on my work for a couple of hours, and finally I got up to take a piss break. The men's room is down the hall from our suite, and the front door of the suite is situated directly off of the main lobby by the front entrance. I was just exiting the office when the main door opened and in walked the construction manager. I felt myself chubbing up just by being near the stud. I knew I had to find out who this guy was. Fortunately, that proved to be easy. The guy gave me a big grin which I promptly returned.
"Looks like your project has finally started!", I said, hoping to get a conversation going.
"Yes, it has - this one's taken a lot of planning to get off the ground." He offered a big, meaty hand for me to shake. "I'm Chuck, the project manager."
"I'm Pete - great to meet you! I hope the job goes well for you." I shook his hand, and the grip was firm. The day was getting to be a warm one, and I could detect the slight smell of man musk as we introduced ourselves. The smell was amazing - natural and masculine, and the pheromones emanating from Chuck were more enticing than the most expensive perfume. We chatted about the job and what the plans for the first phase entailed. He was friendly and open, and he seemed completely at ease as we chatted. It was all I could do to keep from popping a big boner as we talked.
After a few minutes he took his leave and headed to the elevator. He said that the building had given him an empty suite on the second floor to use as his office during the project. I left him at the elevator as I headed back to the men's room. I figured that I'd be heading up to the second-floor men's room a heckuva lot more over the next year - I had to stay near this fucking stud. The thought of encountering him in the bathroom had me salivating.
Once at the urinal, it took me awhile to piss since I was half hard after meeting Chuck. I finished up and washed my hands, heading back to my office. There were a few workers out in front of the building continuing with staging, and after initial disappointment at not seeing Chuck, I finally focused again on my work until lunchtime.
After lunch, I looked out my window and saw that Chuck was back out on the job site. Damn, that beefy ass was perfection. he was taking some initial measurements of the construction area, using a tape measure and referring to his clipboard. He had a can of neon spray paint in his hand, and as he figured out a measurement, he bent over to spray the ground, marking off where the temporary ramp was going to go. I looked down the hall in my office to be sure that none of my coworkers were near, and I dug my phone out again. I turned on the camera, scooting my chair closer to the window, and I pushed the button to start a video. I was seated on my chair swiveled around so I was facing in his direction with the phone camera resting on my seat between my open legs. I could see the screen to be sure I had him in view, but I wanted the phone hidden in case anyone in the office came down the hallway. Chuck was focused on his work, measuring and then bending over to mark the distance with spray paint. The afternoon was downright hot, and I could see a dark area on his back and on the seat of his pants where he'd been sweating. The trench of his ass must have been completely ripe by now as he worked in the sun, his greasy ass juices stewing away in the heat. His ass stink had to be overwhelming with all the sweat and filth that had marinated between the round hams of his butt. The thought of his ripe, slick ass crack had me squirming in my seat. I could imagine shoving my face right into his beefy butt and staying there for hours as I rooted around in his ripe, sweaty shitter. My cock was hard as a rock as I filmed, all the time on the alert for any noise of an approaching coworker. After a couple of minutes, Chuck stood up and wiped an arm across his forehead. His head was turned to his left as he wiped the sweat from his face. Something must have caught his eye, because suddenly he swiveled sharply in my direction and stared at my office window. I knew that the large glass panes had a UV coating on them to reflect heat, and it made viewing into the building more difficult. But it was still possible to see in. FUCK! As soon as I saw him turn my way, I flattened the phone onto the seat of my chair, pushing the button as I moved so that the film would be stopped. I immediately pretended that I was moving over to a file cabinet on the other side of my office in hopes that I hadn't been busted spying on the studly project manager.
My heart raced a mile a minute, and I used my peripheral vision to see if Chuck was reacting in a way that told me I'd been nabbed filming his ass. I couldn't tell for sure. I kept looking busy, trying to fake my nonchalance as I pulled out a file drawer and pretended to look inside for a file. He stayed where he was for a few seconds, looking toward my window. There was another swipe of his arm across his brow beneath the rim of his hardhat. He stared in my direction for another beat, face impassive, and then he turned back to his work.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid Pete, you idiot! I mentally berated myself for taking such a risk, slipped my phone back in my pocket and waited for my racing pulse to slow down. Chuck didn't look my way again and I sat at my desk, staring blindly at my computer screen. I promised myself that I'd stop with the foolishness and not fuck everything up.
I got home that night and couldn't wait to download the pics and vid I'd sneaked earlier that day. Even though I was still pissed at myself for taking crazy risks at work, it all vanished when I saw the video. It was amazing, watching Chuck on film as I sat in front of my computer jacking off. I sat staring at the monitor, slowly working my rock-hard cock with one hand as I enlarged the film on my screen. The beefy man's ass was a banquet encased in denim. I zoomed in on his ass and slowed the film down so I could watch every nuance as he bent over with the spray can. Now that I could zoom in, I could see the long dark spot where the sweat and manstink had soaked through his pants. I could only imagine what that would smell like if I could get my face planted up his butt, my nose tracing the length of the back seam as I sniffed up and down. Just the thought of it was such a turn-on that I couldn't hold off for very long before I jettisoned a big load - I shot so strongly that the computer monitor was pelted, and I was left watching Chuck through oozing trails of cum that dripped their way down the screen. It looked like I was watching the stud through the bars of a prison cell. Damn -- I hadn't cum that hard in ages! After I caught my breath, I wiped everything clean and headed to bed.
The morning alarm went off, but it made no difference. I'd been awake, lying in bed for over an hour. I was obsessed with the thought of Chuck's greasy, filthy anus impaled on my tongue as I dug deep for his shit. I wanted that god in the worst way. I could have shot at least a couple more loads already, but I purposely held off. I needed to stay horny, hopeful that I would get to ogle some construction worker ass again today. I went to work, excited for more construction porn right outside my office. My heart sank when I got to the building and there were no workers in sight. Chuck had told me that he was managing another project besides this one, so I assumed that he was at the other jobsite. Eventually, a few workers showed up later in the day and started digging out a shallow trench where the temporary ramp was going to go, but that was all the action for the day. A big disappointment, but I reminded myself that the job was going to last for a year. That thought allowed me to actually get some work done. Once I got home, I spent another evening with the video. All I could think about was Chuck's shit hole. I knew for certain that it would be amazing, but what exactly would it be like? Would he have a lot of hair around his shit hole? Would it be trimmed or untrimmed? I'd checked out his arms the first day, and they weren't very hairy. So that could mean his ass was smooth, although I'd known more than one guy in the past who had been smooth up top and hairy as fuck down below. It was definitely possible he'd have a fair amount of hair down there. I knew he'd at least he'd have a halo, and I hope he left it untrimmed so that the hair could soak up whatever filth was going on. And I bet there was a whole lotta nasty shit happening in that man crack - fuck me! Since Chuck was in construction, I couldn't help but imagine that his trench got totally skanky and ripe after working outside all day, those tight Carhartts holding everything in so that all the filth and sweat percolated between his meaty ass cheeks. It had to be a greasy, putrid mess. I also hoped that he was minimal in his ass-wiping, leaving skids of shit to add to the explosive chemistry going down between his ass cheeks. I was so turned on, I ended up shooting two more loads before heading to bed.
That evening's newscast had showed a real cooling trend for the following few days. Sure enough, the next morning was chilly and very cloudy. I got myself ready for work and hit the road. When I got to the office, I was overjoyed to see that Chuck was there by himself. He had another pair of Carhartts on, and I could see his magnificent ass in its full glory as he was bending forward. He had his plans unrolled on a low brick wall at one end of the entry portico, and I could see that he was making notes on it. He looked up as he heard someone approach, and he grinned at me, giving me a wave. "Good morning, Pete!" He stared at me for a beat longer than normal, I thought. But I wasn't sure, and I figured it could be my nerves since this was my first time talking to him after the close call with the video.
"Hey, Chuck - how's it going?", I said as I approached. He reached out with his big mitt again to shake my hand. I felt a surge of blood to my groin as our hands made contact. "Looks like you're starting to get some stuff figured out."
"Yeah, today we're going to get the temporary ramp built, and then I've got to figure out some elevations out front here for the new permanent ramp and the concrete work." He was using his pencil to point things out on the plans when the pencil slipped from his grasp. He twisted to his right a bit so he was facing away from me as he bent down to retrieve his pencil. He fumbled for it a bit once he got down there. I was powerless to stop myself from bending over slightly to see if I could catch any stink coming from his ass crack. Since his body was between me and his head, I figured I was safe to bend down just a bit because he couldn't see me. I did just that, quietly taking in a deep draught of air. It was faint - but I could definitely smell some stink. I wished this had happened on the hot day, as that probably would have greatly increased my chances of getting a strong whiff of his shit fumes. I came back up as quickly as I could, holding his smell in my nose for a few seconds to be sure I caught all that stench that I could without giving myself away. I swallowed as much stale air as I could on the off chance I'd be able to pick up any taste on the way down. Chuck stood back up and finished his thought. I tried to quickly bring the conversation to a close, wishing him a good day. My dick had really started to get hard so I needed to get away from him before he started to suspect something was going on.
Holy fuck - this was going to have to stop - whenever I saw Chuck, it was like my brain ceased functioning completely, at least the part of my brain that normally allowed me to have good judgment. I couldn't believe how hot that beefy, buxom man made me feel. His pheromones alone short-circuited my brain. I felt like I was taking big risks, but I needed to get a load of his shit stink. I hoped he'd be using the restroom on our floor. If not, I was definitely heading up to the second floor whenever I needed to shit or piss. I made myself get to work, trying to focus on what needed to get done. But it seemed to be useless. I was fixated on the hunky project manager.
As if matters couldn't get any worse, it wasn't long before I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned to the window to see Chuck working along the shallow trench right outside my window, again marking where the ramp should be situated using his spray paint. He was at the bottom of the slope, facing away from me. He would bend over, mark the ground and then scoot backwards a couple of steps to make the next mark, all the while coming closer and closer. I gave up all pretense and had to just stare, my mouth agape. I thought about turning my camera on again, but I didn't want to risk anything after the close call from before. Finally, he was right up against my window. His head gave a brief quarter turn to the right, then he leaned over and prepared to paint the final mark. His ass was almost touching the glass, but not quite. He was bent totally over as he was going to spray the last mark between his legs. As he sprayed out the paint on the ground, I heard a rumble and realized that a circular filmy haze was developing on the cool window glass. Right behind his ass. Chuck was farting a hot fart right onto the glass! The gas was coming out at exactly the same time as he sprayed paint, almost like he'd pushed two buttons at once - the one on the can and the one that operated his greasy starfish. HOLY FUCK. As he stood back up and moved away from the glass, the round blast of fart haze remained. Chuck turned around, looked at me with my mouth hanging, and used his index finger to draw an arrow pointing straight up in the middle of the haze. He backed away, still looking at me while I looked down to see what he'd done. I could see the arrow wiped onto the damp glass, even as the haze of fart gas was dissipating. He looked at me, giving an almost imperceptible nod toward the side door, my heart beating a mile a minute. He turned and headed that way.
I wasn't sure what to do, but I waited about a minute and then headed to the hallway he would be entering. That's where the restrooms were, so I decided I would start with the place I'd most like to find him. I pushed the door to the first-floor men's room, and it was completely empty. And then I realized why he'd drawn the arrow pointing up - duh! I turned around, went to the stairway and made it to the second floor. The restroom was fairly close to the stairwell, so I made a quick turn through the door. I bent down, and sure enough - the stall was occupied, and I could see jeans, black Danners and a can of spray paint standing on the tile. Jackpot!! Chuck had just landed as I was bending down to peer under the stall, pants pushed all the way to the floor and legs spread. He let out a soft grunt as he landed. Fuck me. I came around the corner to where the urinals stood next to the only stall, and there was a guy just finishing up at one urinal, leaving me to choose the one right next to the toilet stall. Bingo. As the urinal guy flushed, I could hear Chuck release a wet, rumbling fart which reverberated loudly in the toilet bowl. I figured he knew it was going to be a big one and he wanted to hide it as much as possible under the sound of the flushing urinal. It was an impressive, moist-sounding fart. Just seconds later I was hit with a wall of his shitty gas. I made no pretense about sniffing deeply, taking in as much of the putrid stench as I could, drawing it into my mouth and lungs. Piss guy finished at the sink and he left the restroom. Once I knew that Chuck and I were alone, my next breath of shit fumes was long and deep. All of a sudden my own noises were completely buried by another blast of fart. Chuck groaned with the release, breathing "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucckkkk" as the sound abruptly changed. I could hear a sticky, wet crackling as it became evident that his spectacular ass was pushing out a big log. His crap must have been hard and slick, because the popping sound as his log emerged from his shithole was incredibly loud. It was my turn to groan as I listened to a heavy torpedo of shit splash into the water. I could hear Chuck's nasty laugh as I snorted another big gulp of air that had become saturated with the silver bear's shit fumes. Wow, they were strong fumes -- overpowering, but so nasty smelling that I immediately started to salivate as my taste buds were activated by the stench.
"I knew you were trying to get a huff of me this morning, pig, not to mention the vid I saw you scamming yesterday." Chuck said softly, as more turd crackled out of his hole. "Lots of you nasty pigs to be found around construction sites. Queers who want to get off on real mansmells. Or more. Something tells me you're in the More category, faggot -- am I right?" He pushed out another gassy pile of turds. It was clear that his crap was loosening up with the gurgle of the wet farts accompanying his dump. He chuckled again.
"Fuck, man -- you got me pegged. I wanna be your human toilet, buddy -- give me whatever you've got, fucker." I breathed quietly, completely high on his fumes.
"Figured as much, fag." I could hear him standing and pulling up his Carhartts and his underwear in one movement. "Come to 240 and you'll get your wish, shit-eater." I could hear the sound of his zipper coming up and the belt being buckled. Suddenly the stall door pulled open and Chuck was walking behind me, pulling the restroom door open and turning down the hall, his bootsteps becoming fainter.
I realized that he hadn't wiped or flushed! Fuck -- I couldn't believe what was happening. I shoved my aching dick back into my pants and headed straight for the stall. Sure enough, Chuck's dump lay in the toilet bowl. There was a fat, knobby log curled off to one side of the bowl, along with a softer pile of crap closer to the front. I didn't want to keep that hot fucker waiting, but I was transfixed by the fat, knobby torpedo of shit. Without even thinking, I ran to the sink and got about eight paper towels. Coming back into the stall, I reached into the toilet and gently grabbed the fat cylinder of feces. I found that it was hefty and solid as I lifted it out of the water, holding it for a few seconds to drain a bit before I placed it in the middle of the stacked towels, rolling the turd up. I was nervous as hell as I opened the door to the hallway, checking both directions before I emerged with Chucks first turd wrapped and stowed next to my leg, hopefully hiding it should I encounter anyone. I hot-footed it to suite 240, fortunately without seeing anyone. The door was very slightly ajar, and I quickly opened it and slipped inside.
Chuck was standing at the doorway of an inner office, waiting for my arrival. I shut the outer door and locked it, turning toward the hot stud. I was almost wobbly, I was so hopped up on a combination of adrenaline and shit fumes. I walked to the back office. Chuck followed me with his eyes, and I knew the instant he saw the wrapped cylinder of turd, looking like a giant cigar wrapped in brown paper towel.
"I see you brought along something to eat - didn't you, crap muncher? You'd best put that off to one side, because you have plenty of work ahead of you before you get to your meal. Sick, fucking pig. Get in here."
The office was bare, save for a desk to one side. The rest was carpet. Chuck turned to the desk, opened up the top drawer and pulled out a couple of items. It took me a couple of seconds to register that he had a bottle of poppers and a bottle of lube. "I could tell you were gonna be a shit swallower as soon as I saw you yesterday, faggot. You had that look about you, so I figured we'd be needing these soon enough." He picked up the poppers and took off the plastic seal, so I knew they were fresh. He then brought both bottles to the middle of the room and laid them on the floor. "Get your clothes off and get down there where you belong, you sick pig. We have some business to attend to."
I immediately started to get undressed. I couldn't believe I'd have poppers to help me take care of his mess. Fucking perfect! As I unbuttoned and unzipped, Chuck bent over to unlace his boots, his ass facing me. The back seam of the Carhartts dug deep into his shitty trench, right where I knew my face would soon be. I hoped that his crack would be a filthy mess. I was as hungry for shit as I'd ever been in my life. He farted again, a slow, popping sound accompanied by tiny blasts of dank, greasy gas. I snorted them in as I dropped to my knees, sitting on my haunches and staring up at the stud as he got out of his Danners. He turned to face me, his eyes never leaving mine as he reached down to undo his belt and his Carhartts. I glanced down to see his work pants descend slowly, looking up every few seconds to see that Chuck's eyes never left me. Finally, he looked down as he lifted each foot out of its pantleg. He tossed the pants toward me, and I grabbed them, pulling the seat of his Carhartts to my face and inhaling deeply. The smell was insane -- sharp and dank. These were going to be some seriously strong turds if they tasted anything like the smell I was getting out of the ass of his jeans.
Chuck laughed softly as he watched me pigging out with his work pants. "My washer crapped out on me last night, faggot. Not only are you going to eat my dump, but you're going to be my washing machine too. Need these shorts cleaned out for me first so I can wear `em again." He pulled his dingy, white boxers down as he spoke. He stepped out of them, and I could already see a huge smear of dark, reddish brown even before he tossed the nasty shorts my way. "Let me see you suck the crap out of my drawers, ya perverted fuck." He half sat on the edge of the desk, one thigh running along the surface of the desk while his other leg stood on the floor. The gorgeous man fisted his fat meat as I got to work.
"Thank you, sir." I said, staring down into the seat of his boxers. Sure enough, there was a massive skid mark rubbed into the seat of his underwear. There was also a discolored circle that radiated around the thick swipe of feces, probably dried ass sweat from him working out in the sun the prior day. I took a huge double hit from the bottle of poppers and waited for the rush to come on as I turned the shitty shorts inside out, aiming to place the greasy skid track into my mouth. I rubbed the greasy mess of turd under my nose to keep the smell with me, then I looked straight into Chuck's eyes as I wadded up the seat of his boxers and shoved the shitty knot of fabric into my mouth, skid-first.
Chuck had a nasty, alpha sneer on his face as he watched me start to suck and chew on his shitty boxers. Almost instantly the crap began to release its greasy flavor onto my tongue. The flavor was even more intense than the fart smell embedded in the seat of his Carhartts. The texture was initially really soft, as the first thing I could taste was the fresh, soft shit he hadn't bothered to wipe when he stood up from the toilet. It was creamy and pasty, with lumps of digested waste creating some variation to the texture. I sucked like there was no tomorrow, using my tongue to loosen the solids from the cotton fabric, creating a sloppy, wet mess in my mouth, swallowing the filthy slurry down and going for more.
The sexy man sat at the edge of the desk, jacking his massive erection as he watched me clean the filthy underwear. "That's it, pig -- get the crap outta my nasty boxers. I've got quite a buildup in there for you -- haven't wiped for a few days. Clean my greasy drawers, you twisted faggot. Make it snappy too, because I have a lot more cleaning for you." I sucked and sucked, swallowing the nasty mush in between hits from the bottle of poppers. "Let me see how much of my waste is left, pig." he ordered as he continued to pump his fat prick.
I pulled the underwear out of my mouth and held them up suspended in front of my face for Chuck to inspect. The seat of the drawers was a light, reddish color. All of the solid shit was gone and that was as good as it was going to get. "That's going to have to do, you twisted fuck.", Chuck said. "I have another mess for you to work on. He stood up from the edge of the desk, and sure enough, there was an ass print of fresh feces spread along the edge of the desktop where he'd been sitting. "Get over here and clean my desk up before you get to work on my shitter." I crawled over to the desk and leaned down to the sticky sunburst of shit on the edge of the desktop. It was smeared, but I could actually see the imprints of the hairs pressed into the surface of the crap, as well as a few stray hairs that were stuck in the feces. So he hadn't trimmed his ass hairs -- awesome!
I took another deep hit from the popper bottle before leaning over examine the smear. All of a sudden, I felt the project manager's strong fingers of his right hand pressing my nose and mouth into the filthy mess on the desk. "Get that tongue moving and lick it clean, Shitmouth. I want that desk sparkling." I let out a groan of pure pleasure, taking long swipes along the surface of the desk and pulling as much crap into my mouth with each pass. "That's it, fucker -- make that desk sparkle. There's still a lot more for you to eat." Chuck growled. "I haven't wiped my ass for a few days. I was pretty sure that I was going to have a shit licker at my disposal soon. Looks like I know how to call `em. Get yer ass over here, toilet."
I lifted my face from the surface of the desk and did a final check. There were a few small streaks, the residue of my shitty spit as I cleaned everything up with my tongue. I could feel bits and pieces of his feces between my cheek and my jaw and stuck into the spaces between my teeth. I worked some of the big pieces out from where they'd been lodged using my tongue, feeling their texture and appreciating the intense, putrid flavor as I chewed the small chunks before swallowing them down. I turned around and saw Chuck as he leaned over and rested his forearms on the desk. I scooted around to get behind him, and sure enough, his trench was a shit licker's banquet.
Chuck's ass was spectacular. His meaty cheeks and thighs were every bit as amazing and beefy unclothed as they had looked when I was ogling his butt through my office window. His ass was full and firm, voluptuously rounded and covered by a fine coat of hair darker in color than the silver of his head. The triangle of hair on his lower back created an amazing downward pattern, sweeping into the top of his ass crack as if each hair was pulled into line by a hidden magnet embedded in his shitter. As the hair moved down into his trench the color became even darker as the hairs became increasingly caked in his filthy waste. It was clear that Chuck hadn't wiped in quite a while, and the buildup of crap became a matted, greasy mess the closer it got to the vortex of his crap hole. I leaned forward from where I'd been sitting on my haunches and brought my face as close as I could to his shitter without actually touching him. I wanted to see everything as closely as possible in an attempt to memorize every minute detail. The hunky man's ass moved slightly from side to side just in front of my face, allowing me to stare straight ahead, taking in all the detail of the filthy, shitty landscape that passed back and forth in front of my eyes. I sucked in a deep draught of shit-laden air, moaning softly as my brain short-circuited on the nasty, putrid smell.
"Get a mouthful of this, pig." Chuck said over his shoulder as a massive, wet fart was jettisoned from his hole. Crap splatted in fat little clods all over my face as it was hurled right at me from point blank range. I could feel a chunk of turd lodged at the opening of my right nostril, and my tongue reflexively darted out to swipe at some crap that had landed on my lips. I groaned loudly in ecstasy, still unable to believe how nasty this stud had turned out to be. Once I felt the warmth of the feces that had been inside of his rectum only seconds before, my self-control vanished and I dove into his shitty crack. "That's it, you twisted fuck -- get in there and clean me out. You've got some work to do, pig. Get me clean and I'll feed you the rest of my shit before you eat up the log you brought with you. Get to it, man."
I was a pig in rut -- absolute shit-lust. Everything disappeared from my consciousness except for the fact that my face was buried in Chuck's massive crack. My tongue took swipe after swipe of his shit, scraping up both the fresh, softer crap on the surface and the older, pastier turds that caked the halo of butt hairs. His shit was insane. I chewed on chunks of feces, rolling bits and pieces of shit around in my mouth before swallowing down the muddy paste. Over and over again I pushed deep into his crack, sucking on the hairs and loosening the man mud so that I could suck it into my toilet mouth. I groaned in depraved bliss as I slurped and sucked at the stud's beefy ass, taking long passes with my tongue until his ass was clean. I breathed heavily through my nose, moaning in ecstasy as my strong tongue honed in on the target of his anus, drilling deep into his guts in search of anything I could find.
Chuck felt my tongue spearing his shit ring and pushed back against my face. I could feel the puffy ring of his sphincter blossom around my tongue. My hands cupped his meaty ass, and I grabbed hold of each cheek in order to push as deep as possible into the warm, shitty gut. "Uuuugggggghhh -- got something fresh for you, faggot. Get ready, pig -- I'm not holding back." Sure enough, in no time at all a large blob of pasty turd was pushed into my mouth. Chuck let out a groan of pleasure and release as he spewed the last of his dump into my toilet mouth. "Take that, you sick pig -- time to chew on my filth while I watch you eat it all. Don't you dare waste any of it." He turned around again and leaned against the edge of the desk, looking down at me with a mouth full of his feces. He jacked his hard, fat tool as he sneered at me. My cheeks were puffed out to accommodate the soft load of crap, and I immediately got to work swallowing portions of his warm waste. Because it was so soft it took me no time at all to get it into my stomach. Within a minute I had downed the whole dump, and I looked up into the sexy fucker's eyes as I opened my mouth to show him that it was all gone.
"Jeez, sicko -- what a nasty toilet mouth you have. Fuck! You missed some, shit eater." Chuck reached down and scraped a glob of crap off of my face with his thick middle finger and then stuck it into my mouth so I could suck it clean. I moaned as he fucked his finger into my mouth over and over. Soon enough he took his hand away and twisted to his side. The paper towel-wrapped log lay to his left and he reached for it. The layers of towel were damp as they had soaked up the toilet water. When he peeled back the final layer, the massive cylinder looked as fresh as if it'd just come out of his anus. Chuck put the log down onto the desk again. "Get over here and finish your meal. Suck a big load of that faggot juice up your nose, pig. I want to see you eat every bite of my filth. Recycle my dump." I walked on my knees to the desk and took massive double hit of the poppers as I looked down at the hefty, meaty shit on the towels. It was a work of art, still knobby and firm even though it had been under water.
The rush of poppers moved through my body, spreading into my extremities and making everything tingle. I was bowled over by the familiar wave of horniness as the poppers hit, and I felt like the filthy, slutty shit whore that I was. I dove into the turd, biting firm, grainy lumps of crap and rolling them around in my mouth as I chewed. By this point I'd ingested so much of his filth already that I didn't need to take so much time with each bite. I ate like I was starving, gulping mouthfuls of crap down one after another.
"Fuck, buddy -- you're a real pro, aren't you?" Chuck panted as he jacked his cock harder. "Chow down, man. Get it all!" I did just that, working my way steadily from one end of the turd to the other. As I tongued up the last chunk, I looked toward Chuck. His arm was a blur and I could tell he was getting close. "Open your mouth, pig -- let me put some topping on that dessert." He leaned in toward my open mouth that still held the final chunk. With a roar he unleashed a massive load of cum, spewing droplets of semen all over my face as he groaned and emptied into my mouth. He panted and heaved, and drops of sweat fell off of him as he came down from his ejaculation. My jacking reached its peak as I chewed the sticky mess that remained in my mouth. A huge nut hit just as I swallowed, emptying my mouth for the final time as I sprayed my load all over the carpet. I gasped for air as I came harder than I ever had before. I felt completely drained, even as my gut ached with a stomach full of another man's digested waste.
Little by little we both came back to earth. "Holy fuck, buddy -- that was insane!" Chuck said as he reached down to help me stand. "Damn -- you're the real thing. A genuine human toilet. Have I got plans for you, fucker." He grinned at me as I stood there. I couldn't believe it -- that was the hottest scene I'd ever had. I was secretly amazed and proud that I'd managed to chow down on every morsel of shit that came my way.
"Your face is a mess, man." Chuck breathed. "I don't think you're going back to work today." I was sure he was right. I'd had my whole face sandwiched in between those big slabs of man ass and I knew I was a mess. He said, "I'll help get you to your car, buddy. You need to get home." We both got dressed again, and Chuck peered out into the hallway to be sure the coast was clear. We sneaked down a side stairway toward the parking lot, Chuck running interference the whole way until I was successfully in my car. "Cancel your plans for this weekend, Pete. I'm gonna be putting your mouth to good use!"
With that, he turned and headed back to the construction site in front of the building. I got out my phone and texted one of my coworkers. I told him that I'd had an upset stomach all morning and had had an accident in the men's room. I was going home -- could he turn off my computer?" I started the car, and looked in the rear-view mirror to see what the damage was. Sure enough, I sported my own reddish-brown halo of shit, and I could smell it with every breath. I ready to get home and jack off again, smelling his stench in my mustache and thinking about the amazing meal I'd just had -- the best ever!