Liam

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

Liam

Chapter Thirty-Six

Liam didn't get much chance to play for the next couple of weeks. He was working right up to Christmas, and unlike the year before his grandparents came to stay, so he didn't get the house to himself once. With six people in it the family's small house was crowded, and Liam found himself getting irritated. On Christmas Eve afternoon he finished off the things he'd promised to do for his mum and retreated to his room. He pretended he still had presents to wrap, but really all he wanted was some time to himself. He lay down on his bed, stroking his cock, which had started to get hard as he thought back on the big, splashy shit he'd heard Sam take the previous morning. Sam stood up to wipe, he'd spotted, and in his mind was fixed the image of that horny cricket-playing straight lad standing in front of the toilet he'd just filled, with his fingers in the crevice of his arse.

Horny, he logged onto his favourite video site and found that Alfie had just uploaded another video; another covert recording he'd made as one of his anonymous scallies fed him. Like last time, he'd left the money on the side, so that the lad had to bend down in front of the camera to pick it up. He was a tall lad, eighteen or thereabouts, who looked deliciously straight with his trendy haircut and glinting earring and surly expression. He counted the money into his pocket, looked down and nodded stiffly at Alfie and then stepped over and straddled him, unbuckling his belt. His arse was sturdy and pale when he lowered his jeans, and then he sat down slowly.

'I always 'ave to piss when I take a shit,' he said. 'You got a bucket or summat?'

'S'okay,' said Alfie hoarsely. 'Just piss on me. Want some poppers...?'

The lad nodded and took some, then rested his elbows back on his knees and grunted several times at long intervals as he began to push out his shit. He sounded as if he was constipated. He wasn't, though, and when his shit did come Alfie couldn't keep up with it. His turd was thick and chocolatey, and it curled around on Alfie's masked face as he started chewing, begging the lad to stop and hold it in through his crammed mouth. Eventually the brown hole above him pinched shut.

'Ooh,' said the lad self-consciously. 'I should've warned you, my shit really smells!'

Alfie gagged as he swallowed. Some of the shit slid down his cheeks and thudded onto the floor. Some fell into his mouth, too. He retched again, and a little sick ran down his cheek. Liam could see him tensing up as he steeled himself to swallow it. The lad's piss was running down his sides and over his shoulders.

'Ugh,' he gasped thickly. 'Ugh yeah ... it stinks. Tastes so fucking nasty too! You got more? Yeah? Need to do it now?'

The lad nodded, grunted and strained several times with Alfie wanking underneath him, and then farted softly and started to push out a slim turd. He did it slowly and it hung above Alfie's waiting lips for a long time before it fell. The lad reached for the toilet paper and lifted his arse off the rimseat to give himself a quick wipe. He mumbled something indistinct as he pulled his pants up and left, leaving Alfie to wank off and Liam, shortly afterwards, to do the same.

Christmas passed peacefully, and he enjoyed the time with his family, but by Boxing Day afternoon he was feeling cooped up again, and he took the dog out for a long walk to get some time to himself. He hadn't been for a shit yet that day, but he began to need one as he ambled through the wood. Faintly horny, he toyed with the idea of seeing if anyone might be free for some fun, but decided against it; he knew Callum and Nick weren't and he doubted Simon would be. Connal was too far away, and Aston seemed to have disappeared and hadn't answered his texts. Instead, as the pressure in his bowels grew slowly stronger he contemplated the prospect of going in the wood. The chance was too good to miss, and he fingered the packet of tissues in his pocket and began to look for a suitable spot.

A few minutes later he chanced upon some thick bushes right by the forest track. He pushed through them, and found himself amid a clump of trees. He looked around and listened once more, but there was no-one in sight or earshot, so he tied the dog's lead to a handy branch and got ready to do his business. The dog lay down and put his head on his paws as Liam pulled the tissues from his pocket, lowered his pants to his thighs, and squatted on the mossy ground. He loved shitting in the open, and he savoured the cool air on his naked bottom, the smell rising up around him and the sensation of his turd sliding out. He looked down between his legs to watch his first thick log touch down on the ground, bend and drop with a soft thud, and another one fell on top of it. He grunted contentedly as he held his dick down to piss, and as it tailed off another turd slid slowly down the chute. His festive shit was huge and smelly, doing it felt wonderful, and he had half a hard-on by the time he'd finished. When he stood up he took a quick photo of the big, curled pile he'd produced, gently steaming in the cold air, before he started wiping his bum.

He'd only seen one or two people in the hour he'd been out walking, and he was nearly back at the car when he encountered the next ones, a middle-aged man and his son walking slowly in the same direction as him, with a portly old Labrador trotting along beside them. They looked well-off, and as Liam drew closer he could hear the father talking in a clipped, BBC English accent. Liam eyeballed the son as he got nearer. He was a lad of about eighteen or nineteen, slightly stocky, with a nicely tanned complexion and fair hair. As he went by Liam noted his handsome, confident-looking face, with slightly prominent lips.

'No, I can't, Dad,' Liam heard him say. 'I'll hang on til we get back to the car, though.'

Liam wondered what he might mean by that. It could be anything, he mused, but it could well mean that the lad needed the toilet. He couldn't see any reason to delay having a piss until they got back to the car either. All of a sudden visions of that handsome, well-spoken young man having to shit in the woods flitted through his mind. Another car had joined his in the car-park, he found when he got back; a mud-spattered but expensive Audi that looked just the sort of thing the people he'd passed would drive. It was parked in the opposite corner, facing away from his. As he looked at it a plan formed in his mind. He changed out of his walking boots quickly and let the dog jump into the back of the car, where, as he always did after a long walk, he lay down and went to sleep. He got into the driver's seat, let the window down a little, and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later he heard voices and a door slamming as the pair got back to their car. Looking round, he saw the son pick something up from inside the car, turn around and walk, not back across the cleared ground they'd walked through to get back to the car park but in his direction, towards the trees in front of him. He turned and pretended to look at his phone, but as the lad walked past he saw that he was holding a toilet roll. His plan was working, and his heart thumped as he slid down in his seat and watched. What he knew, and the lad evidently didn't, was that a stream ran down the side of the car park, and that he couldn't get far enough into the trees not to be visible, either to his dad or – if he came this way to avoid that – Liam. He slid further down in his seat as he heard footsteps coming nearer. They could only have been a few yards away when they stopped. Liam waited a few seconds, willing the dog to stay asleep and wishing he'd stop snoring, and then cautiously poked his head up above the dashboard. Then his hand went to his jeans.

The lad was facing away from him, only about ten yards off, the thin brambles in front of the car giving him no privacy at all. He must have looked right at the car and decided it was empty, Liam surmised, for he'd stood the bog roll on a tree stump, and was standing next to it undoing his belt. He did it hastily, Liam noted, as if he was desperate and touching cloth. He pulled his jeans down to the top of his Wellington boots and his boxer shorts followed, and then he hitched up his waxed jacket. His thighs were muscly, and his bottom was broad and smooth and curvy. Liam had the perfect view of it as he squatted down, facing away at about 45 degrees, and he pawed at himself through his pants.

Liam thought he could hear the sigh of relief as the lad let rip. He pushed out a big, thick log, hitched his jacket hastily up a little further, and then curled out another long turd that started off firm but quickly turned into a gassy stream that ended in a sharp little fart. His big mushy pile steamed underneath him, its slightly orangey colour vivid against the earth. He added another few little lumps to it before he reached for the toilet roll. Liam prepared to duck out of sight quickly, but the lad didn't even stand up: he rocked forward and supported himself on his left hand whilst he reached around to wipe with his right. Liam could see the smears on the first few pads of toilet roll he used, and he wiped for quite a while before he stood up. No doubt he looked around as he set off back to his car, but Liam was out of sight below the window line, and he stayed there until he heard the Audi drive past him and turn onto the road. Then he shot over to where the lad had squatted, nudged a few bits of crumpled toilet paper to the side, and knelt over his shit. It was huge and beautiful, and the coarse smell hung around the scene. Unable to resist it, he tore his pants down and wanked off over that handsome lad's pile.

Liam went back to work a couple of days after Christmas, and no more chances to play came up. Callum was working a lot of overtime, saving up for a new car, and Nick and Simon were working a lot too. So was Connal, and there there was the added problem of how far away he lived. Aston did get in touch, apologising for disappearing and saying he'd had a bout of depression and hadn't felt up for it. Liam sympathised with him and they did try and arrange a meet, but there was never a a time when they were both free and horny, and one of them was full. Liam started to think he'd have no more fun before he went back to university. Then one afternoon when he got back from work he logged into his favourite scat site to find a message for him.

Hi. I love your profile, and you're nearby. Fancy chatting a bit? Ross

Idly he clicked onto the profile. Ross, it said, was 22, straight-acting and slim. There were no pictures, and just a couple of lines explaining that he'd had occasional scat fantasies and wanted to experiment a bit. He lived in a bigger town about ten miles away. Liam could see no harm in responding, so he did, and they got talking.

Ross was so handsome, Liam saw, first in the photos Ross messaged him, and then when they got talking on Skype. He was tall, on the slim side of average, but toned and sturdy, with obvious pecs and a curvy bubble bum. His skin was tanned and his hair a lovely chestnut brown, fringing a sharp but sweet face with bright eyes and quite prominent cheekbones that pushed out cutely when he smiled. He was mainly a bottom, he explained, and quite submissive. He liked being spanked and dominated. Shit had come up in his dirtiest fantasies since he was a teenager, he said; usually quite mild fantasies about watching masculine guys do it, but sometimes darker thoughts about being being denied control of his own, made to hold it and then ordered to do it in front of other guys. He liked doing it outside, too, and when Liam agreed and related his encounter in the woods the week before he smiled cutely and suggested they meet up. Nothing heavy, Ross emphasised, and maybe only for a drink, if he found he was freaked out by meeting someone into such a thing. No problem, Liam reassured him; he was happy to do as much or as little as Ross was comfortable with, and just watching this exquisite guy take a shit would be horny enough! They exchanged numbers.

Two days later he hastened home from his morning shift, showered and got changed quickly, and set off for the next town. As he crawled through the traffic on the main street, looking for somewhere to park, he spotted Ross ambling along the pavement towards the coffee shop he'd named. He was even hotter in the flesh, his movements lithe and sexy despite the thick winter coat he was wearing. Liam had butterflies in his stomach as he parked the car and scuttled across the road to the coffee shop.

'Liam? Er ... Hi. Nice to meet you.'

Ross shook his hand awkwardly. He was nervous; more so than anyone Liam had met up with until then. As he waited for his coffee Liam eyed him discreetly, fidgeting and playing with his phone, trying to look casual but looking all the more cutely embarrassed because of it. He'd need to put him at his ease before he tried anything, Liam mused, and he'd need to ignore the need for his usual post-morning-shift shit he was starting to feel! He thanked the barista for his coffee and went back over.

Ross relaxed quickly, and as they chatted about Ross's job and Liam's degree Liam quickly got to like him. He was intelligent and witty and pleasant, and so very handsome. By the time they were half-way down their drinks he'd remarked on how normal Liam was. He laughed cutely when Liam pointed out that that was everyone's reaction to meeting someone with his fetishes, including his own. That broke the ice. Ross glanced at the table to their right, almost within earshot, then leaned forward, looking at Liam under his eyebrows. They talked softly, first about some of what Liam had done, and then he steered the talk onto what turned Ross on. He liked other guys' shit, he admitted: he didn't go out of his way to sniff toilets that guys he fancied had used, but on a couple of occasions it had happened by chance, and it had turned him on. It fed the fantasies he'd occasionally had for years about watching guys shit, and the submissive side of him had started to explore thoughts of being made to wipe guys' arses after they'd done it, or even catch their shit in his hands. That fantasy had led him to do it on the floor a few times, he admitted, and once or twice he'd done it in his hand. He didn't often get the chance to play, though, since he lived with his family, and anyway he always felt guilty after doing it, as if playing with his shit was a boundary he couldn't quite bring himself to cross. He smiled coyly as he said that, and Liam's heart thumped a bit as he realised Ross was pretty much inviting him to lead him across it. He leaned forward again, face flushed, with a sly grin playing across his face.

'Go on then,' he said softly. 'What's your shit like? Do you do big ones...?'

'Er ... yeah.' Ross looked taken aback by the question, but then smiled. 'Yeah I do. I ... um, well, I don't go every day, so when I do it's really big. You?'

'Yeah, pretty big too. I go every day, but I eat a lot, and...'

'Have you been today?'

'No,' said Liam, heart thumping harder now. 'I haven't, and I'm starting to need to. Have you...?'

'Er, no,' said Ross in a hoarse whisper. 'I've not. I'll probably need to later.'

'So. Would you want to ... and is there anywhere...?'

'Yeah,' said Ross. Liam noticed his hand was shaking a bit. 'Yeah I would. Can I just watch you on the toilet? Just to see how that feels, if you see what I mean. My mum and dad are away so I've got the house to myself, if you fancy it...?'

'Yeah. Let's do it. Er ... is it far? I'm really starting to need the toilet!'

'Nah, only a few minutes walk. Come on.'

They finished their coffees, pulled on their coats and set off. Ross didn't say much as they walked: he looked a bit shocked at what he'd just agreed to do, and Liam wondered if he might change his mind, but he seemed to steel himself as they turned into a side street. Ross fumbled in his pocket for the key to a smart semi-detached house they'd stopped in front of. In the tidy, slightly fussy hallway he turned to Liam, swallowing nervously.

'Are you sure?' he asked, biting his lip.

'I am, yeah,' said Liam softly. 'Are you? I really need to go to the toilet, and I'd love to have you there when I do, but whatever you're comfortable with...'

'Er...' Ross hesitated, then grinned. 'Oh come on, let's do it. I can't back out now!'

He led the way upstairs to the bathroom. Like the rest of the house it was cluttered and a bit twee, but fastidiously tidy. The toilet was under the window on the long wall, facing out into the room. Liam looked from it to Ross, and then as Ross smiled encouragingly and sat himself down on the edge of the bath a few feet to his right he stepped over to it and unbuckled his belt. The pre-session sense of unreality descended on him again. As he pulled down his pants his dick sprang out, already half hard, and Ross looked at it wide-eyed as he sat down, and his hand went to his own crotch.

'I'm gonna do it now,' he said softly. 'Here it comes...'

He'd never felt so self-conscious about taking a shit as he did then, sitting on the toilet with Ross watching and pawing at himself only a few feet away. The crackle as his first thick turd slid out seemed to ring in his ears, and the heavy 'plop' as it fell rang in his ears as water splashed up on his cheeks. He had to hold his semi down as he started pissing, and then caught Ross's eye.

'Okay...?'

'Er ... yeah ... just can't believe I'm doing this! Feels so weird ... oh but I gotta wank.'

He stood up and fumbled his trousers down. His cock was really big and shapely, and as he sat down stroking it he looked at Liam, smiling sexily.

'Have you finished?' he whispered.

Liam shook his head. In truth he'd barely started, for he'd clenched up after he'd let his first turd out to let Ross get used to what they were doing. Now he relaxed, and grunted with satisfaction as the brown glacier slid down his chute and pushed his hole open. The filthy crackle and loud 'ploops' as he dropped another big turd filled the room, along with the vapour trail.

'Ooh,' said Liam self-consciously. 'Oh that smells a bit...'

'Yeah it does,' said Ross, his eyes dropping. 'I ... er ... I like it. Oh shit this is so fucking horny ... feel like I could cum!'

'No man, don't cum yet. Save it ... at least til I've finished. Here comes some more ...mmm!' He closed his eyes with pleasure as his last few lumps dropped from him, then looked back at Ross. Now ... you wanna see it before I wipe?'

'Oh fucking hell yeah!'

Liam's curled, golden-brown logs filled the bowl completely, and jutted up above the surface liked a group of little islands. Ross looked down at it, almost whimpering, with pre-cum dribbling from his dick, and Liam smiled at him.

'Do you ... er, do you wanna wipe me?'

Ross's hand was shaking again as he nodded and reached for the toilet roll. Liam stood in front of him, bent over and parted his cheeks for Ross's fumbling, inexpert wipe. His hand was still shaking and he was breathing hard. When he'd finally dropped the last pad into the toilet, Liam straightened up and they turned to one another, with erections like ramrods. Ross's hand went to his, but then he drew it away again, looking into Liam's eyes.

'What's up?'

'I ... I need to as well. It's not bad yet, but it's coming on!'

'Mm, good! Gonna be a big one...?'

'Yeah, it will be,' he said with a coy smile. 'I've not been since yesterday morning. You wanna watch me do it?'

'Fuck yes! I can't wait ... mm, seeing it ... and smelling it!'

'Yeah...?' He raised an eyebrow teasingly. 'My shit stinks.'

'Good. I like a smelly guy. So fucking horny!'

Ross was really into it now, he realised; he'd got over his shame and fear over finding it a turn-on, and was enjoying himself. He was rock hard and breathing hoarsely, his eyes all wide and bright. He talked more animatedly about his fantasies as they went and sat in his room for a bit, and his need to shit built up. Liam hoped he'd need to fart and give him a preview of how his shit was going to smell, but he didn't. He just looked more and more tense and horny, until he finally he stood up.

'I ... I really need a shit now.'

He led the way back into the bathroom. He was wide-eyed again as Liam took up his old position on the side of the bath, wanking slowly, and he breathed hoarsely as he pulled down his pants and let his hard-on spring out. He had the most beautiful, pert, rounded bottom as well, all pale and hairless, curving beautifully as he sat down. He looked at Liam again, swallowing nervously.

'I ... I'm gonna go now. Okay?'

Liam nodded and smiled encouragingly. Ross hesitated just a few seconds, then looked away, as if he didn't want to meet Liam's eyes as he did the deed. He relaxed, and farted resonantly, and his face reddened as the soft squelching and crackling began below him. It went on for a long time...

'Plomp ... plomp-plop.'

'Uh,' Ross grunted.

The smell rolled over to Liam. Ross's shit really did stink; a harsh, rank reek that hit Liam like a sniff of poppers. Sniffing at it, he stared intently at Ross as he tried in vain to piss, and another turd crackled and plopped into the toilet. He looked so hot sitting there, all red-faced and embarrassed about taking a dump in front of Liam, but madly turned on by it too. He wrinkled his nose as he looked up.

'Mmm,' said Liam. 'You weren't kidding. Your shit stinks! So nice...'

'You like it? Serious?!'

'Ooh yeah. Told you I love the smell of a hot guy's shit! Yours smells awesome. It's so fucking strong! Is it a big one?'

'Yeah ... really big.'

'I wanna see it. Can I see it?'

'Yeah,' breathed Ross. 'Let me finish first though ... ooh, listen!'

He screwed his face up cutely, and grunted as he strained. After a good minute of this he gave a sudden sigh of relief.

'Squelch ... Plop! Plop! ... plop-plip.'

The smell grew thicker and stronger. Properly turned on now, Ross wanked slowly as he pushed out the last few nuggets, and then said quietly that he'd finished. He stood aside to let Liam come over and look at his big shit. He'd done two long, cracked logs, sticking out of the water at the front of the pan, and at the back a jumble of smaller turds poked up towards the seat. They were a beautiful, deep, chocolatey brown, and the smell was intoxicating. Liam glanced over at Ross's arse, the brown deposits fringing his hairy little hole very obvious.

'Can I wipe you?' he asked. 'Let me wipe your arse for you.'

Ross hesitated again, trembling, but then without a word he bent forward and parted his cheeks. Liam loved wiping a guy's arse for him: there was something marvellously intimate about cleaning him after he'd had a shit. Maybe Ross felt it too, because he whimpered constantly as Liam did it, and then as soon as he was done he jumped up and spun round, dick in hand. They wanked off together and spunked into the toilet, all over Ross's beautiful big shit.

Later that afternoon Liam drove home, horny and happy. He and Ross had chatted for a long time afterwards, and agreed they definitely wanted to meet again. He doubted it would be soon, since he was going back to university in not much over a week, but he badly wanted it to happen. He had the feeling that he could have great fun helping Ross explore the darker side of his sexuality!

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