Disclaimer: This is a story EXTREME SCAT (i.e., shit, puke, piss) and other depravities. Do not read if younger than 18. This is entirely fantasy and does not represent any real people.
My name is Travis and I'm what you might call a "fixer." I'm part lawyer, part private investigator, but mostly a dealer, pimp, and conman. My job is to make sure the multimillion-dollar deals of my clients go through, no matter what it takes. Sometimes that means it is drugs and cunts that skid the wheels, sometimes it is good old-fashioned blackmail. Other times it is knowing the depraved, sick things people really want and making sure they have them, no matter the cost.
It is a sleazy business. Fortunately, I love the sleaze. I live for it. Swimming deep in the filth of humanity's darkest desires is what makes me so good at my job because they are my desires too. The nastier, the better. I'm a pig that could wallow forever in the shit, piss, and cum of an endless stream of anonymous men. My favorite place is the floor of a rancid roadside men's room, covered in the shit and loads of countless truckers and roadtripping daddy's who tell their families to wait in the car.
So I was particularly happy to wrap a deal for a pair of Texas oilmen who wanted the rights to some godforsaken piece of near-desert land in the middle of bumfuck, Arizona. The poor redneck farmer who tried to eek a living off it was skeptical to sell at first. That is until we shot up some meth and I ate his shitty ass while his 80lb hounddog Bubba fucked me while he watched. He spent an hour tugging on his massive, fat, leaking cock while I bucked up against his dog and took the knot like a pro. My face was coated in the old man's shit and he stared at the spectacle of my depravity with his mouth open, chew-stained drool flowing down his chin and onto his hairy pot belly. Of course, I was in heaven--and just doing my job. The farmer signed the deal and then finally exploded all over my face in what must of been a gallon of cum.
Naturally I was lot more put together--dressed in my most expensive, tailor-made grey suit and handcrafted leather shoes--when I met John and Jacob Park a few days later with the deed to the land. That poor farmer had no idea his trailer was sitting on millions of dollars of crude. Of course, he got what he thought was a king's ransom, plus I'd given him the opportunity he needed to unlock his inner pig. When I left he was letting Bubba mount him for another go while he sucked on a solid turd I'd deposited on his floor before I left. So hell, even the dog was happy in this deal, which isn't how it always goes. And that meant John--the square jawed former Marine CEO of Park Industries Global--and his son Jacob were also happy. Not that they would have balked if darker tactics had been used, but it is always better when I can report that the farmer in question was more than happy to sign in the end. Of course, I left out all the details of how we got there.
Still, I wondered... My sixth sense was going crazy with this father/son executive team. Call it "piggy sense." Jacob was clearly being groomed to take his father's place, but he couldn't be more different from the old man. If his father looked like a retired linebacker, the son looked like a punk band frontman. Even sitting there in his $8,000 suit, it was impossible to miss the tattoos on his neck, hands, and arms. He was as thin and wiry as his father was solid and stocky. As different as they were, the father and son were inseparable. Jacob was clearly being groomed to take over the company, in spite of what had obviously been a colorful and potentially wayward past. When John spoke, Jacob hung on every word; and when Jacob spoke, John beamed with pride. Away from all their staffers and suckups, the two became even more intimate. They sat next to each other even when there were other seats in the room. They often leaned into each other and spoke in deep whispers as they discussed business and the deals at hand.
Tonight it was just the three of us in their hotel suite as we went over the final documents. I knew that an obscene amount of money would be in my bank account tomorrow morning for my help in closing the deal. But tonight I was content to bask in their almost palpable masculinity and familial intimacy. We'd returned to the suite after a massive steak dinner and several bottles of wine to celebrate the close of the deal. Both John and Jacob sprawled on the couch, boots off and ties loosened. I could see more webs of Jacob's tattoos peaking through the now-open collar and up his arm where he rolled up his sleeve.
John's shaved head and square jaw glistened as he lit up a cigar and the two of them radiated sensual heat as the smoke swirled into the room. Needless to say, my cock was rock hard and dripping as I sat across from the father and son, who clearly felt relaxed enough to lounge back against each other, lightly but intimately touching at their shoulders and legs.
John asked if I wanted to join him, holding out a fine Cuban to me. I looked at Jacob to see if he'd be joining in. He chuckled, and said "I like to smoke just about anything but never took to cigars." I smiled and reached into my suit jacket pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned cigarette case. Jacob cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, and then laughed when I opened it to reveal several masterfully-rolled joints. "Now that's more like it," he said with a note of approval.
"Do you mind," I asked John, still feeling like I needed the father's permission before indulging with his adult son.
"Be my guest," John replied.
I came around and sat next his wiry son. I sparked up the fattest from the case and inhaled deeply, passing it to Jacob. The stuff was strong, and hit fast. Weed always makes me horny (o.k. hornier) and the close proximity of the Park men and the swirling haze of cigar and pot smoke had me about to burst out of my suit pants. I noticed that it was hitting Jacob strong too, and as we passed the joint back and forth, he became even more relaxed. He unbuttoned three of his shirt buttons from under his tie, revealing a smooth chest that was inked across every inch. I was beginning to think he might be a fucking illustrated man straight out of a carny show under that tailored exterior. He also leaned back further into his burly father, who beamed with pride as he huffed on his gar. By this point my rigid cock was pumping about a gallon precum into my suit pants but I didn't care. I was so turned on by these two.
That's when Jacob ripped a loud, wet fart. Nobody said anything but Jacob didn't seem embarrassed as the thick stink filled the space around us, mixing with the weed and gar smoke. It smelled like heaven. Both he and his father seemed to be waiting as the noxious gas hung around us. Maybe it was the weed or my heightened horniness, or maybe I was playing my hunch, but I leaned down towards Jacob's trim, suited ass and took a deep breath. Then I looked him in the eyes and rumbled "Nice." It was all the young oil heir needed to hear. We locked eyes and he began pushing out a string of raunchy, wet ass rips. With each one I got closer and closer, finally dropping to my knees in front the couch and bringing my face to the navy blue silk and wool of his suited ass.
I felt a large, meaty hand push my face into the silk seat of Jacob's tight ass. It was John, gazing down at me with his cigar clinched in his teeth, pushing me into the suited mounds of his son's farting buttcheeks. "Good pig," he rumbled. I knew then we were all on the same page. We were all pigs here and things were about to get raunchy.
My eyes moved back to Jacob as I began running my hands up and down his thighs and crotch. I could tell even through the suit pants that his throbbing cock was an amazing length and it was straining against the fabric. "You got more?" I asked him before pressing my face back into his suited asscrack.
"Next one's gonna be a log," he said with a gleam. "You want it?"
"Fuck yeah," I moaned. Jacob started to unbuckle his belt, when I stopped him. "Push it out with your suit on," I told him. John chuckled, and I looked back over to the hulk of a man and gasped. He'd quietly unzipped his pants so that his monster, veiny cock escaped and was throbbing in the open air, dripping precum down to the floor. It was thick and so riddled with gnarled blue veins it looked like a treestump entangled in vines. He pulled a bottle of poppers from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and took a series of deep huffs.
"Go ahead, son" the gruff CEO grunted around the last of his moldering cigar. "Shit into your suit so we've gone some stink to play with."
Jacob also pulled down his zipper and reached in for his cock first. While his father's cock was like a veiny beercan, Jacob's was a beautiful sausage, wickedly long--at least 10 inches--and slender. I again thought briefly of a tattooed carnival freak when I saw that his cock too was fully illustrated--a snake tattooed onto his own long trouser snake. Like his old man, he was leaking precum like a faucet.
His monster thus released, he stood on the couch, squatted slightly, and began to push. At the same time he rock hard cock began pissing, slow and dribbly at first, but then a massive arc of steaming golden rain. John grabbed me around the neck and hauled me like a piece of meat under the steaming stream. We both doused ourselves like ducks in the rain. By now I too had released my throbbing cock, my length and girth landing somewhere between the father and son. Other than that, all three of us still wore our suits, and Jacob's piss soaked our ties, shirts, jackets, and pants, pooling all over the hotel room carpet and the coffee table between us. The piss was a torrent and John and I writhed under the hot steam, alternatively gulping it down, rubbing it over our suited bodies, and meeting each other in slobbering, mouth open drool kisses. I reached into John's drenched suit and found puffed up nips nearly this size of thumbs. I twisted them greedily as he found mine and did the same.
Even as the deluge of piss continued, we could here the loud farts and wet squishes as a massive shitload was deposited and began straining against his silk suit pants. As the piss finally dwindled, Jacob swung around so we could see the seat of his pants obscenely stretch out and turn wet as he pushed more and more shit into them. I absently began tounging John's nose and sucking his snot as we watched hypnotized by the growing lump pressed against Jacob's ass. Meanwhile John was tugging on his obscene tits, his cock jerking with strings of precum dripping down.
At last Jacob's shitting ended while his dad and I took hits from the poppers bottle. His father then commanded, "get over here son," directing him to the piss-pooled coffee table in front of the couch. Jacob instinctively knew to get on his elbows and knees on the furniture, his suited ass pointed high in the air, wet and reeking. John's meaty hands grabbed either side of the straining seam and ripped the back open in a single motion. Piles of shit spilled out (Jacob hadn't bothered with underwear). It was a huge mound that rose to just below Jacob's now-exposed dangling, massive balls. Still more clung stubbornly to his tight ass and hole. It was a beautiful sight--piles of shit leading to a pair of horse balls and that long inked cock, as well as meaty ass cheeks smeared in filth. I was in pig paradise.
In an almost identical motion to how he ripped open his son's pants, he now reached over to my piss-soaked shirt and yanked it wide, sending buttons flying and exposing my hairy chest and stomach under my still perfectly-knotted tie. He did to the same to his own tight dresshirt, exposed thick matted hair across every inch of his massive pecs and thick belly. I let him take the lead, guessing where this might be going. He didn't disappoint. Grabbing handfuls of shit from under his boy's ass, he began smearing us both in filth. We snogged as we rubbed the rancid shit into each other, covering our pecs, tits, and stomachs under our flapping open shirts. Then we grabbed more and smeared our faces and heads.
All the while, Jacob looked over his shoulder at the sight of his father and me quickly disappearing under a thick layer of brown muck. As he huffed from his own bottle of poppers he slowly jacked his leaking cock, grabbing shit as lube so that his beautiful tattoo eventually disappeared under the same layer of brown that covered us. As John and I made out, thick streams of slobber ran down our faces and chins. We hungrily ate out of each other's noses, blowing streaming snot. "Fuck, you two are so hot," Jacob moaned as he slid his hand up and down his shit-slick cock. "I need something in me pigs," he cried out, almost desperately. "Daddy, fill me up with your hairy arm."
John broke off our shitty makeout session and turned to his son. Thanks to the boy's massive amounts of shit, the burly man was able to scoop up more from the tabletop pile. Using the stinking heap as lube, he began fingering his son and heir with his meaty paw. Three, four fingers slid easily in and out. Clearly this was not Jacob's fist rodeo. Then John fisted up and drove it into the young man's sucking hole. Jacob moaned loudly, urging his father on: "Fuck yeah...punch me with your fucking fist you fucking pig. Fucking wreck my hole with your shitty arm. Fuck yeah. Fuck. Fuck."
I watched mesmerized, but soon the urge for something warm on my cock shook me out of my daze. I walked to the other side of the table to Jacob's open drooling mouth. As I walked I started pissing, allowing the stream to spray everywhere ahead of me. As I rounded the coffee table, soon it was hosing down the still-suited but fist-impaled tattooed young man on his knees on the coffee table. As I approached I pointed my cock to his face, where he greedily drank down my rank piss. Eventually cock and mouth met and I shoved it into his throat down to my balls. He took it like the best-trained whore, deep throating my still-pissing rod and then slobbering up and down the shaft as the last drained out. I twisted my shit-covered nipples as he sucked me down his throat. I occasionally hocked up loogies that I spit into his hair and face. "Here," John grunted, and handed me one final pile of shit that wasn't already smeared over our suited bodies. I immediately began rubbing it all over Jacob's face and hair, coating him as he continued throat-riding my cock, never missing a stroke. Soon he too was plastered in shit, just like his father and me.
I looked across the coffee table and the suited pig on it and saw that John's arm was inside his son up to his elbow. It was all so depraved-- father and son coated in filth but still suited, the one riding the other's arm while impaled on my throbbing cock. It was too much and I finally went over the edge, sending streams of jizz straight into Jacob's warm belly.
John took my cum as a cue, pulling his shitty arm out of his boy and coming around to my side. He hauled the boy up to his feet so they stood face to face, shitty cocks rubbing greedily against each other. Jacob looked longingly into his father's eyes, telling him without words what he wanted next, in a language only two pigs could understand. John took his shitty fingers that had just been deep in his son's guts and shoved them mercilessly down the younger man's throat. Jacob hadn't so much as gagged on my cock when he deep-throated it, but clearly his father knew just the right spot. The tatted pig gagged and then hurled as his father pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. As their mouths, bodies, and cocks ground against each other, puke flowed down between them, coating them in a thick mess of stomach juice and undigested food.
It was obviously what they both needed to share because the father and son's slippery, grinding cocks both began to spurt long ropes of cum. I dropped to my knees to catch what I could in my hungry mouth, but the loads were massive and cum literally flew everywhere. My face was coated, and there still was the cum of five men around me. I came up off my knees and brought my slimy mouth to theirs, still locked in a passionate puke-lubed kiss. They welcomed me into a slobbering triangle, as everything we had shared swapped between mouths, across tongues, and down our faces. It was beautiful.
Eventually we came down off the euphoria and the two men invited me to spend the night, provided no one cleaned up first. At long last our suits came off so that we could climb into bed together. Our bodies were a strange patchwork of filth-coated parts and other body areas that had remained perfectly clean under our expensive clothes. Jacob's smooth body was indeed covered with as many tattoos as a carnival freak and he lovingly cuddled with his father and me in a sweaty pile of intertwined limbs. My final thought before I drifted off to sleep was, "fuck, I love my job."