Our Farewell Fuck

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Our Farewell Fuck (M/M, t/b, M/b, M/t, [other combinations], oral, anal, ws, scat)

by Coproman

Hunter Martin: 6'2, 180 pounds, black, light-skinned, VERY handsome, VERY sexy. Also, my neighbor, my student, my teacher, my homey, my lover. For almost 12 years. Ever since he was 4'6, 70 pounds and I was 5'10, 150 pounds (which, by the way, I still am).

Now he was about to turn 21 and about to move on, all the way across the country. I had promised him that, for his birthday, I would book a hotel room for him and his new boyfriend. It was a contingent gift, though, because I told him that I would do it ONLY if he promised to christen the room--and the bed--by fucking ME there first, since, if everything went as planned, it would amount to our farewell fuck. Smiling what had become his signature lopsided smile, he agreed to this but said he would not cum in me because he wanted to have a nice big load for his boyfriend. I was disappointed, but I understood.

So now, the day before Hunter and his boyfriend would take over this room, here he stood before me, beautifully naked, his eight-inch erection looking both menacing and enticing as he casually stroked it, coaxing out a long sticky strand of pre-cum.

"Come on, Kev, let's go," said Hunter. "I got other shit to do today."

Hunter had gotten to the place where he preferred having his dick sucked only in preparation for fucking. So I got the chance to swallow his sword (along with that strand of precum), making sure to bathe it in plenty of spit. When it was well-lubed, I pulled it out of my mouth and gave it a little kiss on the tip; then I looked up at the 20-year-old, smiled, and turned around, surrendering my ass to him.

Hunter gave me exactly what I wanted--several times, in fact, starting out on the bed then moving to the easy chair, the floor, up against the wall, and back to the bed. But every time he felt his orgasm coming, he backed off, slowing down his strokes and sometimes even stopping until it receded. I knew all that edging would lead to his building up a humongous load, and, yeah, I was more than a little jealous that his boyfriend would wind up getting what Hunter had accumulated by fucking me.

So I was totally surprised when, during our last go-round, with my arms around Hunter's neck and my legs on his shoulders as he fucked me face-to-face, he began to speed up, slamming into me, ravaging my rectum, grunting louder and louder, sweating all over me, all the signs I'd come to recognize over the years that told me he was about to--

"Fuck! I'm cumming! Take it right up your fuckin' ass, bitch!"

Right away I felt the familiar throbbing in my rectum followed by a larger-than-usual rush of wet warmth in my bowels. Just knowing that I, and not the new boyfriend, was the recipient of the fruits of Hunter's labor made me feel so contented, so special, that I came without even touching myself, spurting a big slimy load all over my chest and stomach.

Afterwards we both lay there quietly recovering. After a while, though, I just had to know:

"Didn't you say you were saving it for your boyfriend?"

Hunter smiled. "Well, at least for right now, YOU'RE my boyfriend."

I smiled back, gave him a peck on the lips, and drifted into daydreaming about our very first encounter....

At the time I was seventeen, a high school senior, and had just broken up with my girlfriend of six months. Hunter, on the other hand, was all of nine years old and had just started fourth grade. He was light-skinned; I was dark-skinned. We lived next door to each other on the top floor of a five-floor tenement in the South Bronx. The only things we had in common were that we were both male, both only children, and both being raised by single parents. Other than that, there was no reason for our life paths to cross. But our moms were friends, and I needed money at the time, so babysitting was our bridge.

The problem was that, like most seventeen-year-olds, I was perpetually horny, and with no girlfriend to help me relieve my blue balls, it was either a matter of jacking off a lot or finding someone new. But I hated the idea of wasting my seed by masturbating ten times a day, making Kleenex and Charmin rich; and finding someone new, at least for me, wasn't easy, being that I was shy and, though not hideous, not the most attractive guy on earth either. So what was the alternative?

Before I go on, let me say that I have NEVER considered myself a pedophile. Had a cute teenage girl fallen into my lap at that time, I'd gladly have skipped the babysitting, borrowed whatever money I needed from my mom, and satisfied my sexual urges with the pussy at hand. But Hunter had already been "primed" for hooking up, meaning someone, probably his mother's boyfriend, had already introduced him to the pleasures of prepubescent sex. And now that whoever-it-was was no longer in the picture, Hunter was eager for a new playmate.

How did I know? Well, when you babysit someone for the very first time and two seconds after his mom leaves the house, he asks if he can suck your dick, it kinda gives you a clue.

"Where'd you learn about stuff like that?" I asked, shocked that something so vulgar had come out of his mouth.

That was the very first time I saw his face morph into his now-familiar lopsided smile. "I promised not to tell," he said. "But he told me sperms was good for little boys 'cause they make us grow up to be big and strong. And I wanna be big and strong. So will you give me yours?"

This was an early turning point in our relationship. I could take the high road by telling Hunter that whoever had told him that had lied, that it was wrong for a little boy to suck a man's penis, and that drinking sperm wouldn't make him grow any bigger or stronger; then I'd explain to him about "good touch" vs. "bad touch," and that if anyone did anything like that to him again, he should tell his mom; finally I would tell my own mom about it, so she could speak to his mom about being more careful who she left Hunter with.

Or I could take the low road by saying nothing to straighten Hunter out, since he had grown accustomed to having sex, and there was no getting the genie back in the bottle; in other words, he had already developed a taste for it, and no matter what I said, he would continue to crave it; so if it wasn't me, it would be the next male babysitter and the next until Hunter was able to satisfy that craving.

So with my teenage hormones raging, my dick sitting hard and ready in my jeans, and a cute little boy standing ready and willing in front of me, you can guess which road I took.

"Sure," I finally said, smiling as I rubbed Hunter's close-shaved head. "You can have my sperm. But I want you to do it with me the same way you did it with whoever that other person was, okay?"

"Okay," Hunter said brightly.

Right away the fourth-grader urged me to stand up, and when I did, he started fiddling with my belt until he managed to unbuckle it. Then he expertly unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the zipper, and began tugging on them until they dropped to the floor. Then he grabbed the elastic band of my boxers and pulled them down as well. When my fully erect penis popped into view, Hunter grinned like it was Christmas morning and he'd just opened his favorite present. But instead of diving in, he kept nudging me, forcing me back until I bumped into the sofa and plopped down on it. Two seconds later Hunter was all over me, or at least his lips were, sliding up and down my pole while I clasped the back of his head.

"Yeah, suck my dick, boy!"

And did he ever! Holding on tightly to the base of my cock, the nine-year-old proceeded to give me one of the best blow jobs I'd ever had. To my astonishment, he even moved his hands and deep-throated me a few times, burying his nose in my pubic hair, and never once did he come close to gagging. I had to thank that unknown person for training the boy so well. I was hoping that this wonderful experience would last a little longer than it did, but Hunter made that impossible when he began using one of his hands to massage my balls. I mean, there's only so much a horny teenager can take!

"Fuck! I'm cumming!" I yelled, lifting my hips and pulling down on Hunter's head, burying my cock in his throat. "Drink my fuckin' cum, Hunter! Swallow it!"

It had been almost 24 hours since I'd jacked off, so my teenage balls had cooked up a big fresh batch of baby batter, and here I was feeding it to a nine-year-old boy! If that wasn't hard enough to believe, what was even harder was the way Hunter gulped down every gooey drop of it, even snuffling up and swallowing the tiny streams that were about to drip out of his nostrils.

Naturally, my babysitting of Hunter increased dramatically after that and, of course, I was more than happy to provide him with as much of my magic elixir as I could. But given the limited ways we did it, which mostly involved Hunter sucking my cock from different positions or me fucking his mouth and either cumming down his throat or shooting my load in his face (after which he'd scoop it off and eat it), I figured whoever had trained him must have had an oral fixation or something. That was fine, but there was obviously much more to being a boy toy than just mouth action, and I felt an obligation to continue Hunter's training....

My trip down memory lane was interrupted when Hunter pulled his dick out of my ass. As usual it exited with a squishy little "pop," leaving me deflated as a rush of cool air took its place. Hunter moved back, taking my legs off his shoulders but pushing my thighs back, so that my knees were nearly on my chest and my ass sat up high. Then he bent down to get a better look at my asshole.

"Go ahead and push it out," he said. "I told you I got other shit to do today."

Giving him a wry smile, I flexed my sphincter, causing my pucker to kiss at him, and two seconds later I felt something warm and slimy drooling out of my anus and into my ass crack.

"Oooooo!" Hunter cooed, grinning. "That's a big fuckin' load in there."

"I'm just glad you decided to give it to ME instead of you-know-who," I said, flexing again to eject more of his spunk.

Giving me his signature smile, Hunter said, "You didn't REALLY think I was gonna fuck you up, down, and sideways then give it to somebody else, did you?"

"Actually I did," I admitted. "You've been talking so much lately about how you did THIS with Diego and THAT with Diego and how Diego is SO cute and SO smart, I thought you couldn't wait to pump his Puerto Rican rump full of cum."

Still smiling, Hunter considered what I'd said for a moment then replied, "Nah, I wouldn't do that to you. We been together too long. Besides, since this is our last time, I wanted to make sure I gave YOU the same thing you gave ME the FIRST time. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. I'm just surprised YOU do," I said as Hunter's cum continued to ooze out of my bowels and began to pool under my ass cheeks. In fact, I remembered it all too well....

That phase of our relationship started when I compounded the initial lie Hunter had been told by telling him that he would grow up to be even bigger and stronger if he swallowed sperm "from both ends." He looked totally confused when I said that, so I explained to him that taking it down his throat would help the top half of his body grow bigger, but taking it up the ass would make the bottom half grow bigger too, and how he really needed to do both "for balance." But after that he looked scared.

"You mean, somebody gotta stick they dick in my butt TOO for me to grow up big and strong? But that's gonna HURT!"

"Relax," I said, trying to calm him down as tears welled up in his big brown eyes. "I'm gonna help get you ready back there, so when you do it, you won't feel a thing, okay?"

I could tell by the look on Hunter's face that he was still skeptical, but he trusted me, so he gave a quick nod and mumbled "okay."

Well, I did as I'd promised, lubing up Hunter's tight little boy-hole with Vaseline and gently sliding my middle finger in and out of him every time he sucked my dick. Over time he was easily able to take two fingers, complaining only when I rotated them in his rectum, and wincing only when, a few sessions later, I introduced a third finger. By then he was ten years old, and though his boy-hole was still tight, I could now stretch it open more than an inch without causing him any real pain.

"It's time," I said the next time I babysat Hunter.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said confidently.

We were both right. It WAS time and Hunter WAS ready, as he bravely took all six inches of my super-hard cock up his tight little ass without shedding one tear. Sure there was a lot of grunting and groaning and an occasional gasp, especially when I started fucking him. But as I repeatedly plunged my pole in his poop chute, I kept reminding him how it was all for his benefit, so he would grow up to be a big strong TALL teenager, and "I know" became Hunter's breathy mantra throughout my anal assault.

So taking the fourth-grader's ass cherry was as awesome as awesome could be, in particular because, knowing what I was planning to do that day (and despite my perpetual horniness), I had somehow managed to refrain from jacking off for a full week, so when I finally did cum, I exploded, baptizing the boy's bowels with the biggest load I think I've ever shot, even to this day.

"Oooh! I can FEEL it!" Hunter squealed in apparent delight, as I flooded his virgin boy-hole with hot slime. "It feel like it's goin' ALL the way up my butt!"

"Yeah," I said. "You're gonna grow up to be big and strong, top AND bottom."

For me, just knowing that hundreds of millions of my sperm were swimming up Hunter's ten-year-old turd tunnel, only to turn around and swim right back out again, was another major turn-on, and I savored the unique sensation of my dick being bathed in a warm balm of my own semen. (Fortunately I would be with Hunter all day, so when the last of my phalanx of little swimmers finally made their return trip downstream, his mom would never get to see the big wet starchy stain they left in the seat of his SpongeBob Squarepants underwear.)

Anyway, fucking became part of our babysitting routine, though we didn't do it every time, as we alternated between it and the dick sucking. Besides, I didn't want to wear out Hunter's asshole by making it LOOK like it was regularly swallowing six inches of hard teenage cock. After all, either his mother or his doctor or somebody else who had a legitimate reason for checking him out back there might notice that his "round eye" had become more of an "oval eye," and a discovery like that would not necessarily be a good one for either of us.

Pretty soon Hunter was not only eagerly participating in our fuck sessions but initiating them by suggesting different places outside the house where we could do it. He would then tease and flirt with me--as only a cute little boy can--on the way, so that by the time we got to wherever we were going, I was so horny that I was ready to fuck his brains out. I ended up banging his little booty in abandoned cars, on barren rooftops, in pissy public bathroom stalls, even in secluded parts of St. Mary's Park, among other places. And the idea that we might get caught at any moment only heightened our enjoyment.

However, not long after Hunter turned eleven, it occurred to him that he was being exploited, and he demanded that I suck HIS dick and that HE fuck MY ass. Well, what could I say? My little fuck buddy was right, and since, at 19, I was already starting to feel more submissive than dominant, he couldn't have approached me at a better time. So I started sucking his three-inch pecker and letting him poke it in my poop chute. It was good but also funny hearing him mimic me by saying how he had a "big load" for me and how he was going to give it to me either "down your fuckin' throat" or "up your fuckin' ass," being that he was still too young to produce sperm and his "loads" all consisted of dry orgasms. Nevertheless I enjoyed how hard he worked at thrusting his slender little stiffie in my mouth and ass and how it throbbed when he climaxed.

Not too long afterward I discovered a nasty little move called ass-to-mouth, and I was eager to incorporate it in our trysts. But I knew how difficult it would be to get Hunter to suck my dick right after I'd pulled it out of his ass because, even at his young age, he was something of a clean freak. If it had a speck of shit on it, he'd go through all kinds of contortions before deigning to put it in his mouth. On top of that, he'd probably insist, from that point on, on giving himself an enema right before we had sex, and I certainly didn't want that.

So though we did do ass-to-mouth, I ended up doing it for Hunter instead of him doing it for me, not that he still didn't complain about it. As I gradually developed an appetite not only for bottomness but filth as well, I would deliberately leave my asshole dirty, knowing full well Hunter's pet peeve about getting shit on his dick. So after he fucked me and pulled out, I would usually hear, "Jesus, Kev! Don't you know how to use fuckin' toilet paper?!" Hearing the 11-year-old say this not only made me laugh but also turned me on like crazy because I knew his supposed distress was temporary at best. The minute I started sucking his stinky little shit-stained pecker, he always calmed right down again....

"Yeah, clean that dick, bitch!" said Hunter, again awakening me from my reminiscing. "There better not be no shit on it when I fuck Diego."

Even at half-mast, Hunter's dick was formidable, not even remotely resembling the pricklet it used to be, and I wanted to think that I was responsible for that; in other words, Hunter had believed so strongly that getting his ass fucked would cause him to grow bigger below the waist that it actually DID! The only problem was that it now took much longer to tongue-wash him after he fucked me--especially since, as usual, I'd brought him a dirty hole to plow--and it took even longer when he could no longer hold his bladder and let go with a stream of hot piss right down my throat, catching me off guard. But I quickly caught up to the flow and was able to swallow it fairly easily.

"Shit, I'm gonna miss goin' to the bathroom like this without gettin' out the bed," said Hunter, continuing to pee in my mouth.

Since I was still busy drinking it, I didn't respond, but since he'd brought up the bathroom-in-bed subject, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to segue into something Hunter was less keen on discussing. So after lapping up the final drops of his piss, I pulled his cock out of my mouth, burped, and looked up at him with pleading puppy-dog eyes.

"Hey, Hunter, speaking of going to the bathroom, will you...ummm...do me a favor before I leave?"

"What?" he asked, immediately suspicious.

"Do 'it' for me again?"

"You mean--"

"Yeah, that."

He frowned. "But you know how much I hate that."

"You didn't used to have a problem with it."

"I know, but--"

"So do you have to go?" I quickly asked, pressing him.

"Yeah. Matter of fact, I was gonna go right after you left."

"So why don't you just go ahead and go now? What? You saving it for Diego?"

"Ewwwwww!" Hunter responded, chuckling while pretending to be offended. "HELL no! You the only one I know who's into freaky shit like that!"

"So do it this one last time," I said. "For old time's sake. For me. Please?"

Rolling his eyes, Hunter finally relented and said, "Well...okay. But this is absolutely the last time."

I'd heard that before. The last three times we'd done it had all been "absolutely the last time," but despite Hunter's protests, I knew there was something about it he liked. If nothing else because it gave ME so much pleasure. So I stretched out face-up on the floor and Hunter squatted over my head, making sure to ask "You see it?" as his anus opened up and the tip of a light-brown turd appeared....

I didn't always have to beg for it. In the beginning Hunter had absolutely no reservations about doing it. In fact, the very first time I told him how I wanted him to take a shit in my mouth, his eyes lit up and he was smiling all over his face. The idea that his sitter actually wanted to "eat my doo-doo like a big hotdog," to use his words, thrilled him; and as I lay in his bathtub staring up at his little high-yellow hiney and his puckering anus, I was equally thrilled.

At the time I knew nothing about being a scat bottom or being fed directly from a shitting asshole. All I had to go by was what I'd seen on some extreme porn sites, and I had no idea how edited or faked those scenes were. But Hunter made it easy for me by shitting out a log more semisoft than stiff that first time, so I was able to swallow it without much chewing. Also, being that he was only nine, Hunter's bowels held a lot less shit than an adult's, so I was able to handle his whole load.

As soon as Hunter was done, he stood up, turned around, and, frowning severely, stared down at me as I ate the last mouthful of his shit. I put on as much of a show for him as I could, smacking away with my mouth open, gulping everything down, then opening my mouth wide and sticking out my shit-coated tongue to show him that what had been in his bowels was now in my belly. This caused Hunter's face to squinch up even more, as if he were on the verge of barfing, and this pleased me to no end. After all, wasn't he supposed to be disgusted by seeing me do something so disgusting?

After an awkwardly long silence, Hunter finally asked me, "So how my doo-doo tasted?"

I wanted to answer him right away, but my stomach suddenly lurched, and I knew if I made a move to say even one word, I might throw up everything I'd just swallowed, ruining the whole experience. So I held up my finger to him and waited for the nausea to pass before speaking.

"Not...bad," I finally croaked out.

"So you LIKED-ED it?" he asked, amazed.

Instead of answering this time, I motioned for Hunter to turn back around and squat over my face again. He did, and I held his bubble butt in place, spread his asshole open with my thumbs, and licked the leftover shit out of him. By the time I was done, my stomach had calmed down, Hunter's anus was so clean that it glistened, and I knew not only that I would no longer have any trouble holding down anything the boy fed me out of his cute little shitter but that this would be the first of many scat sessions with him.

And so it was, not every time I babysat him, since he didn't always have to go while I was there, but often enough to keep it special. Over the years, I became a shit connoisseur, at least when it came to Hunter's bowel movements, savoring the consistency of them--sometimes firmer, sometimes softer--as well as their subtleties, as I negotiated which of them I needed to chew up and which could easily be swallowed whole. I could also pretty much tell what he'd had to eat by the way his turds smelled and tasted. And the older Hunter got, the more the limits of my stomach's elasticity were tested, as the volume of his shit steadily increased and I resolved to eat every crumb of whatever he fed me. Making this effort alone spiked my overall horniness. But what probably turned me on the most, believe it or not, was living that personal contradiction, that public/private hypocrisy: There was just something SO deliciously dirty about participating in a freshman colloquium at college in the morning and serving as a ten-year-old's toilet in the afternoon.

All was well until Hunter turned twelve and started going through puberty. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he was self-conscious about the way his shit smelled and concerned about what would happen if I got sick eating it. Though it often took some doing, I always managed to quell his fears, telling him that his shit smelled "fresh" and that nothing coming out of a healthy body like his could possibly make me sick.

But one day, not long after he turned thirteen, I realized that he was farting excessively and asked him if he had to go.

"Yes," Hunter said curtly, not looking at me.

But when I asked him if he would give it to me, he looked annoyed and shouted "No!" after which he ran in the bathroom and locked the door.

At first I thought he was just playing hard-to-get, but as I stood by the door trying to persuade him to let me in, I heard more farting, only muffled this time, and I knew he was sitting on the toilet. This was followed by a series of quiet splashes, as Hunter dropped his load in that big white porcelain mouth instead of mine. After he was done, I thought maybe he'd save it for me, but when I heard the toilet flush, I knew that particular bowel movement was lost forever.

By the time Hunter came out of the bathroom, I had returned to the living room and was sitting on the sofa watching TV, totally ignoring his reappearance. He called me a couple of times from the doorway, but I pretended not to hear him. Finally he said, "I'm sorry." That's when I looked up.

"So why didn't you let me eat it?"

"'Cause."

"'Cause what?"

"'Cause it's MINES!" he declared. "I don't have to let you eat it if I don't want to! Matter of fact," he added, "you shouldn't even BE here! I'm thirteen! I don't need no fuckin' babysitter!"

So THAT was it. Hunter was not only asserting his independence by refusing to indulge me, he was also doing so by making it clear that he felt he was responsible enough to be left alone in the house without supervision. Finding it hard to stay pissed off at him after that, I just shrugged.

"Well, that's something you need to discuss with your mom," I said. "I know they can be clingy--especially single moms like ours--but they just want to make sure we're safe."

Having said that, I could tell by Hunter's expression that he was feeling guilty for taking things out on me because that half-smile of his slowly made its way back to his face.

"I didn't wipe so good," he now offered, "so you can have what's left, if you want."

I smiled back. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

With that, Hunter turned away from me, unbuckled his belt, pushed his jeans and underwear down to his knees, and bent over. I knelt down behind him, spread his cheeks, and was pleased to see tiny brown lumps clinging to the folds of his young teen anus. After deep-sniffing his dirty hole, I proceeded to feast on the tasty treat he'd left me, making sure to search for more leftovers by digging my tongue as far up his shit trail as I could get it....

I was wrested away from that pleasant little foray into the past by the reality of a huge turd making its way out of Hunter's asshole and heading straight for my mouth.

"That's it! Eat my fuckin' shit, bitch!"

As reluctant as Hunter claimed to be about feeding me his feces, once he got started, he always seemed to enjoy it. We were so practiced at it by then that he knew exactly how much I could handle at a time, depending on the turd's consistency. Since this one was pretty thick, he pushed out only about a four-inch piece each time before squeezing his sphincter shut and allowing me the time he knew I needed to chew it up and swallow it down. As soon as he heard me gulp and begin to pant, he immediately bore down again, dropping another short log in my mouth.

Repeating this procedure several times, it didn't take long for Hunter to empty his very full bowels in my mouth, leaving himself two pounds lighter and me two pounds heavier. As I licked his asshole clean afterwards, I was convinced that he'd planned to feed me all along, knowing how much I enjoyed the nasty activity. So he never really intended to wait for me to leave then dump his load in the toilet. He just wanted me to beg for it.

When I finished tongue-washing Hunter's anus, he stood up, turned around, and stared down at me wearing a weird expression.

"So, freaky deaky, who you gonna get to shit in your mouth when I'm gone?" he asked.

Licking my lips, I just looked up at him and shrugged. "That's a good question. I just wish I had a good answer. You know anybody?"

His expression morphed into his familiar one-sided smile. "Nope. But don't worry. Somebody'll come along."

I only wished it were as easy as advertising on craigslist, but God only knows what kinds of weirdos would respond to something as dirty and provocative as "Looking to eat a load of shit out of 20's asshole [28] (South Bronx)." No, finding someone to do that--someone who was even half as physically appealing as Hunter--would be a long, slow process that might never pan out, much the way my shit-snacking episode with a sheepish 13-year-old Hunter turned out to be my very last time babysitting him....

When Hunter discussed the matter with his mother, she agreed that he was indeed mature enough to no longer require supervision. So after that, we invited each other over as friends, either me to his house or him to mine, depending on whose mother happened to be away at the time. And now that he had the house all to himself for a few hours, Hunter invited other people over as well, both boys and girls, broadening his sexual horizons, particularly the following year, when he turned 14 and became a high school freshman. He seemed to delight in doing his thing with them and, after they were gone, inviting me over for "clean-up duty," meaning I would suck the pussy or anal residue off his dick. I was more than happy to oblige, since I was usually rewarded with a rehardening of Hunter's cock, a rigorous mouth fuck, and a blast of fresh teen ball juice down my throat, often followed by what seemed like a gallon of hot piss.

As Hunter approached fifteen, he grew taller and more muscular, and his semen rapidly matured from thin and watery to thick and gooey. There was also a LOT more of it with every ejaculation, and I was eager to have him deposit as much of it as he could in my mouth and up my ass. This was made a lot easier when I finally moved out of my mom's house and got my own place a little further uptown, near Yankee Stadium. Now I no longer had to schedule my sexual encounters based on when my mother or Hunter's would be home, and I could also arrange for Hunter to use my apartment whenever I spent time with my mom.

Hunter was happy for the opportunity. As a horny teenager, he was eager to stick his now-six-inch dick in any available hole as often as possible. Yeah, he would still occasionally slobber over my schlong and suck down my sperm, but as a young, developing top, he was now much more interested in giving dick rather than receiving it. By then he had a fairly steady girlfriend, boyfriend, and me, his 23-year-old fuck buddy, and, believe it or not, we were all getting our fair share of cock. On one occasion, I offered to let him use my apartment if he'd let me hide in my bedroom closet and watch him fuck either his girlfriend or his boyfriend, and when he gave me his patented half-smile, I knew he was more than open to the idea.

He chose his girlfriend because, he said, he wanted to show me that it wasn't only guys he was good at fucking. She was a petite white girl, cute as a button, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and she seemed to adore Hunter. And I was indeed surprised to see how expertly he kissed her, sucked her tits, and ate her pussy. But I was even more surprised to see how passionately they fucked, despite how tiny she was. At one point, with his dick planted deep in her cunt, Hunter lifted her up off the bed, held her mini buns firmly in his palms, and, with her arms draped around his neck, proceeded to fuck her standing up, bouncing her up and down on his shaft; and she apparently loved every minute of it, as she grunted and groaned between screaming at him to fuck her harder.

When Hunter finally shot his load in her, I wanted so badly to burst out of the closet and suck it out of her pussy, but I'd promised to stay put, so I had to settle for watching her stand there afterwards with her legs spread wide and her hands on her knees, letting him watch his cum drool out of her cunt. There was so much that it left a sticky little puddle on the linoleum, and after she left and I came out of hiding, Hunter ordered me to lick it up. In a flash I was down on my hands and knees lapping it up while marveling at how just ONE load from Hunter's dick had managed to satisfy TWO horny people.

Over the next couple of years, there was a slew of similar scenes with different people in various places (but, more often than not, my apartment), as Hunter seemed to change girlfriends and boyfriends almost as often as he changed his underwear. It was a fuck-fest not only for him but for me as well, as I rode his coattails as the loyal older sidekick in his sexual adventures. He even occasionally invited me to take part in a threesome "so there'll be at least one person in bed that I trust," he claimed, though more than likely, it was because I would do anything he told me to. So I found myself constantly performing "outside the box" by doing things like fucking a girl's pussy while Hunter fucked her ass, being spitroasted by taking Hunter's dick up my ass while another guy fucked my mouth, and even getting double-penetrated by Hunter and what he called a "co-packer," which I complained would split me in half one day, being that Hunter always sought out guys whose cocks were the same size as his "'cause it don't work if one dude's dick is mad bigger or smaller than the other's." (But I have to admit that it was a tremendous turn-on being dominated by two studs and taking a double dose of ball juice up my ass.)

Soon Hunter was seventeen

and, having grown two inches taller and two inches longer, was fucking his way through his last year of high school. Along the way he somehow also managed to keep up with his studies well enough to be accepted at a small college. But that college was in Texas, so at the end of the summer, as Hunter prepared to leave for his orientation, I prepared for what I assumed would be our farewell fuck.

Of course my heart was heavy. I'd gotten used to getting together with Hunter at least a few times a week. Now he'd be gone for months, and during his breaks, who knew if he'd even come home? He might end up on a beach somewhere, getting drunk and fucking every young man and woman in sight. In other words, it was possible that I might not see him for as long as a year.

I knew that Hunter's mom was planning a surprise going-away party for him the day before he was due to leave, so I invited him over to my apartment two days before, and we fucked pretty much the way we did years later at the hotel, with Hunter giving me more going-away presents than I could ever have hoped for. But afterwards, as I lay on my bed with my belly full of spunk and a fresh load dribbling out of my asshole, I broke down, sobbing openly about how much I'd miss him and how I'd probably never see him again, much less have sex with him.

Hunter listened patiently to my lament and was very understanding and compassionate, gently massaging my ass while assuring me that he would make every effort to see me those few times during the year that he came back to the City. Right after saying that, though, he dropped the bomb: Giving my ass a hard slap and smiling his familiar smile, he confessed that he had decided not to go to college in Texas after all. Instead he would be attending the State University of New York (SUNY) College in Purchase, NY, a mere stone's throw from the Bronx, and would probably be back home every weekend!

Hearing this I was utterly relieved and, at the same time, thoroughly pissed off. Of course my relief quickly swallowed up my annoyance, knowing that Hunter wouldn't be thousands of miles away after all and that we would continue to be fuck buddies for the foreseeable future. But I still grabbed him, put him over my knee, and spanked him for being such a bad boy by leading me on that way, and I took particular pleasure hearing him "cry" and watching his high-yellow hiney turn bright red.

So Hunter and I continued our get-togethers over the next four years. But I swear I don't know how he managed to finish college, much less do so well, because he was summa CUM laude in both the classroom and the bedroom, fucking guys and gals of all nationalities and in all combinations, and I was usually right by his side to witness and take part in it.

One day he even convinced a bunch of his "freaky fuckers," as he called us, to get together for an orgy, which, of course, took place at my apartment. The music was so loud, the drinking and pot smoking so heavy, and the sex so prevalent that I was surprised my neighbors didn't call the cops, because I'm sure they could hear and feel the walls thrumming with passion, as straight, gay, and bi sex took place in every room of the house. That night I swallowed what seemed like gallons of semen, cunt juice, and piss, gloriously topped off when a drunk Hunter dragged me into the bathroom, pushed me to the floor, pulled down his pants, and, with several people watching from the doorway, took a massive shit in my mouth while screaming, "EAT it, you fuckin' toilet!!"

It took me a while to recover. My head ached for two days, my stomach was upset for three, and it seemed as if cum would never stop drooling out of my asshole, forcing me to change my underwear several times the following day, but I wouldn't have traded that wild experience for anything in the world, and I knew Hunter felt the same way.

What I didn't know, however, was that in the midst of all his indiscriminant fucking, Hunter had secretly met someone special, specifically during his junior year at SUNY Purchase, someone he did not invite to the orgy. He was a 20-year-old classmate of his named Diego, and the two of them had hit it off, not just as one-on-one sex partners but as real friends, and their bond was growing closer every day.

When Hunter finally introduced him to me on one of his trips back home, I could tell right away why he'd been so attracted to him. With his green eyes, curly black hair, and cafe-au-lait complexion, Diego was close to being beautiful. Yeah, he was a bit on the thin side and didn't have much of an ass, but this didn't seem to bother Hunter at all. They had both applied to graduate school at UCLA for computer programming, had both been accepted, and were planning to fly out to California together right after graduation to settle in before starting their studies....

"I think everything's gonna work out," said Hunter as we toweled off after showering together at the hotel.

"Yeah, for YOU," I grumbled.

"Come on, Kev, don't be like that. We had a lot of good years together, you and me, so don't ruin it. You know it's time for both of us to move on, so let's do it as friends."

Of course, he was right. So I apologized for being a Negative Nelly and wished him and Diego well, adding that I hoped they also had a nice time occupying this room the next day.

"Just don't do anything WE didn't do," I said.

Hunter smiled. "I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die."

We exchanged a knowing laugh because we both understood that whenever Hunter said this, it really meant that he intended to break whatever promise he'd just made. So I asked him if I could hide in the closet and watch them, but he said no, that he wouldn't be comfortable with that, being that Diego was "special."

"Besides," he said, "whose birthday did you get the room for, mine or yours?"

I thought about this and knew that, again, he was right. In my desperation, I was trying my best to hog in even more on something that was supposed to be for him and Diego. I should have been more than satisfied that he'd agreed to fuck me, especially since he'd also given me the cumload he'd been saving for Diego. So I apologized again and, as we got dressed, resolved to bury my jealousy and simply accept that there are beginnings and endings to everything in life, especially relationships, and it was simply our turn.

Hunter and I left the hotel together and walked to the corner, upon which we hugged, promised to keep in touch, and headed in opposite directions. A part of me wanted to turn around and get one last look at that magnificent ass, but I resisted the temptation and continued to head for the subway; then another part of me wanted to double back to the hotel and book the room next door to the one I'd gotten for Hunter, but again I resisted. Still, I couldn't stop thinking how, either later on that night or the following day, Hunter would return to the hotel with Diego, and the next chapter of his life would officially begin. I just hoped Diego could appreciate how lucky he was.

On my way home, I got a phone call. I was hoping it was Hunter calling to say he'd changed his mind, was dumping Diego, staying in New York, and wanted me to come back to the hotel. But, of course, it wasn't him, and I didn't recognize the number, so I didn't bother to answer. When I got home and played the voice mail, it turned out to be one of the "freaky fuckers" who'd taken part in the orgy. He said his name was Devontae Martin, that he was Hunter's cousin, and that he hoped I didn't mind that Hunter had given him my number. Though the idea that he was related to Hunter peaked my interest, in my depressed state of mind I was reluctant to call him back. But I figured if I waited, he'd probably call me again, when I might be in an even worse mood, so I decided to go ahead and return his call.

When I called back, I learned that Devontae was actually older than Hunter, but only by a year, making him 22. Hearing that peaked my interest even more. He then told me that Hunter had introduced us the night of the orgy, but by the look on my face at the time, I probably didn't remember. I admitted that he was right. I'd been introduced to many people that night, but my brain was so fogged-up on booze and pot that only a couple of them had left an impression. I wondered if he was one of them.

Well, we proceeded to talk about the orgy, and after sharing some of the things we'd both done and witnessed, he finally confessed that he was one of the people standing in the doorway of the bathroom when Hunter took a shit in my mouth. Right away my entire body tensed up, and I wanted to drop the phone, crawl away, and hide under something.

"I gotta tell you," said Devontae, "I ain't NEVER seen nothing like THAT before."

I tried to explain it away by saying I was really high, and how when I got that way, I did crazy things, especially when I was with his cousin.

"But you actually ATE it," Devontae continued. "I saw you."

"Yeah, I know," I said, "but, like I said, I just..." I didn't know what else to say because I was terribly embarrassed and didn't want to talk about it anymore. But Devontae did.

"Well," he said, "I thought what you did was really...impressive."

Impressive?

"Umm...thanks, I think," I said, which made him laugh. I certainly wasn't expecting to hear him use a word like that to describe what he'd seen, so it came as a big surprise. Suddenly I wasn't so eager to hang up, slink away, and hide anymore, as both my embarrassment and my depression lifted a little and I began to wonder where he was going with all of this.

"Listen, Kevin, do you think we could get together for a drink or something?" he asked. "No strings attached. Just to meet each other again."

"Sure, no problem," I said, intrigued by Devontae's interest in what Hunter and I had done.

We decided to meet at a local bar, and I deliberately got there early to see if I could tell who Devontae was when he walked in. That turned out to be easy. I recognized him immediately. He was indeed one of the people from the orgy who'd left an impression on me, being that he looked so much like Hunter. No, he wasn't a spitting image of his cousin, being about half a shade darker and not quite as tall, but he came damned close, close enough to make it obvious that they were related, and also close enough to put a smile on my face and make my dick stand at attention.

So we sat in a booth, and a few drinks later, we were talking and laughing like old friends. That's when Devontae further confessed that he'd known for years about the scat play, ever since he and Hunter were 11 and 10, because in the midst of competitively comparing sitters, Hunter had bragged about how HIS sitter not only let him stay up late but was also his "shit slave," and whenever he had to doo-doo, he would go in his sitter's mouth, and his sitter would EAT it!

"Of course I didn't believe him," said Devontae, "so Hunter told me he'd prove it by letting me come over his house one day, so I could hide in the closet and watch." He paused, took a sip of his drink, and smiled. "So, no, the orgy wasn't the first time I watched you two do that."

I was dumbfounded! Not only had the little big-mouth fucker told on me, he'd even let his cousin SPY on us doing it! Being that it was the same thing I'd done when he and his little girlfriend were fucking, though, I couldn't even get mad at him. All I could do was smile and shake my head.

"Ever since then, I wanted to do that to MY sitter," Devontae admitted. "But he was straight as a fucking arrow, so I knew I couldn't ask him. Then I asked Hunter if he thought you'd let me go in your mouth, but he said you made him promise never to tell anyone about it, and he didn't want you to know he'd broken that promise by telling me. So I waited all those years, wanting it the whole time but never having the nerve to ask anyone, 'cause I was so scared of what people would think of me. But then there was the orgy, and when you guys did it with the bathroom door wide open, I figured you didn't mind at least the people there knowing about it."

I started to tell him that it wasn't my idea to invite a fucking audience to watch us play our nasty scat game, that I was just following his crazy cousin's lead. But I didn't want to interrupt him because my dick was even harder and the rest of my body was getting all hot and tingly just listening to him tell his story. But I was still going to wait to see how long it took him to ask me if I'd do for him what I'd done for Hunter.

Despite constantly sipping from his glass of "liquid courage," however, Devontae couldn't quite bring himself to go there, despite all our talk about the orgy and all his years of waiting. After all, asking a near-stranger to eat your shit isn't the easiest thing in the world to do, even if the two of you like each other and are getting along. Because what happens if, for whatever reasons, he declines? Where do you go from there?

That's why I decided to bail Devontae out by telling him the truth of how Hunter and I came to play our nasty little game in the first place. He needed to understand that I was not Hunter's "shit slave," that going to the bathroom in my mouth wasn't something that Hunter, realizing that I was a bottom, had come up with to see how far I would go. At only nine years old, the little fucker simply didn't have that kind of imagination or the balls to ask me to do something like that for him. No, Devontae needed to know that all of his cousin's bowel movements would have ended up being deposited in the toilet if I hadn't specifically TOLD him to feed them to me.

"You're kidding!" said Devontae, totally surprised. "YOU approached HIM about doing it?"

"Yep. So instead of you asking me, I should be asking you," I said; then I smiled and whispered, "But I want you to ask me anyway."

"Okay," he said, suddenly looking very relaxed and confident as he smiled back at me; then, leaning forward and lowering his voice, he asked, "So, Kevin, can I please take a shit in your mouth?"

"Only if you fuck me too," I repied.

"Deal!" he said, laughing, and we shook hands on it.

Well, all that was over a year ago. Since then I can't even count the number of times Devontae has fed me his shit, though that first session was probably the most memorable, as I was not only introduced to his puckered port but also to his Hunteresque eight-inch cock, which he used to destroy my asshole from about six different positions that day before pumping a load in me that I swore he'd been saving up since junior high school!

After that, before I even had a chance to fully recover, he pushed me down on the floor, squatted over my face, and dropped a huge brown bomb right in my mouth, sounding a lot like Hunter when he yelled, "Yeah, eat my shit, you nasty bitch! Eat it ALL!" Though I struggled to chew up and swallow his massive load, I was so turned on by his enthusiasm in turning my asshole into a pussy and my mouth into a toilet that, as I was gulping down his last turd, I spontaneously shot my load all over my stomach while moaning in ecstasy.

Not all of our sessions have been quite that intense, but unlike my final days with Hunter, I never have to beg Devontae for his shit, since he now considers me his "personal toilet." So I have to thank Hunter, who actually lied to me when he said he didn't know anyone who could take his place feeding me. Just like he'd fooled me before by saying he wouldn't cum in me at our farewell fuck at the hotel and leading me to believe he was going away to that college in Texas, he'd let me think that I'd have to find another handsome feeder on my own, knowing all along that Devontae was lurking in the shadows.

Nowadays Hunter and I correspond regularly, and now I can honestly say that I am happy for him and Diego, though I'm not so sure how happy Hunter is anymore over the sole-partner thing. In his last few texts, he's complained that while he needs to "spread his wings" and still has "wild oats to sow," all Diego ever talks about is getting married. That's why, now that their school year is over, Hunter is taking a break from him and returning to the City for a few weeks. He told Diego that it's to visit his mom, but he told me that, just like I'd booked the hotel room for his 21st birthday, he and Devontae have something special planned for me for my 30th. I asked Devontae about it, but all he did was smile like a Cheshire cat and say, "Sorry, Kevin, but he swore me to secrecy, so you'll just have to wait till he gets here to find out."

I'm not very good at waiting, but I will try my best to be as patient as possible this time. After all, as the saying goes, "Good things come to those who wait," and I have a feeling that if I wait for Hunter to get here, wait for him, Devontae and me to get together, and wait to see what they have planned for my 30th birthday, it'll be one of the best things that's ever cum my way :-)!

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