Butt Sniffer - Part 6 by Rim4you Part 6 More Cabin Fever Chapter 1 Dad had more tricks up his sleeve. Or should I say, up his butt? After our group session out on the hiking trail and we had returned to the cabin, Brad and I watched curiously as he placed two ice chests by the fireplace. "Listen up, guys." Dad said, as the four of us gathered around. "The blue one is for shit. The red one is for piss." "But we do have a toilet, Dad." Jeff remarked. "Yeah!" I snickered. "Your mouth!" "We've got several toilets around here from the looks of it." Brad added, with a laugh. "Here's the deal, guys." Dad continued. "I thought we'd have ourselves a nice pig fest on Saturday night. So I figured we'd store our goods until then so we'd have alot of shit and piss to wallow in. With five of us and Saturday being two days off ..." "Our own sewer pit!" I said. "Great idea, Dad. I take it we don't wipe our butts either?" "You got it, son. Our butts stay nice and ripe and nobody showers. Agreed?" "But what if we wanna have some fun beforehand, Dad?" Brad asked. "You'll have to do it the old fashioned way, Bradley." "What's that, Dad?" Brad continued. "Jack off or have vanilla sex! Remember what that was like, Bradley?" Dad responded, with a chuckle. "The point is a good scat party has got to be planned ahead of time. Know what I mean? And besides, I have some ideas I think you boys would enjoy." "Sounds like a plan to me, Mike." Alex said, lifting the lid of the red ice chest up and whipping out his dick, proceded to take a nice, long piss. "Oh man!" I moaned, smacking my lips. "Uh-uh-uh!" Alex chuckled, looking over his shoulders at me. "You heard what your Daddy said, Tommy. This juice has gotta ferment and ripen! You can look but you can't drink!" "Knowing Tommy," Jeff laughed, "he'll be sneaking in here for a midnight snack!" "No I won't, Jeffery!" I protested. "A little sniff perhaps?" We all cracked up laughing and headed back outside to get the steaks on the grill and have some chow. "Eat big. Shit big!" Dad quirked, as he placed the juicy t-bones on the sizzling grill. Chapter 2 I had often turned the idea over in my mind of shitting in an empty coffee can and saving it, storing it away for future use. About as far as that went was Brad and I not flushing the toilet in the bathroom we shared and then giving one another shit rubdowns in the shower. That was always erotic. Scooping up a handful of shit out of the toilet and into the palm of my hand. Feeling its slime in my hand and inhaling its powerful stench as I held it up, like a gift, to my brother and watching the expression of pure lust spread over his face as he sniffed the stinky sludge, always boned me up. Just knowing that what I was holding in my hand was a combination of Brad's shit and my shit, aroused me deeply as the two of us stood naked in the shower stall, our noses inches away from the ripe turds. Our cocks throbbing. Our bodies trembling. Our breaths raspy with horny desire. I'd gaze at the muscled, sculpted chest of my brother, so creamy white. His dreamy expression as he took a hit of poppers and the way he'd take his hand with mine and together we'd smear the pungent sludge of our butts over his chest. It was almost ritualistic, the manner in which we rubbed our bodies down with shit. We'd take great care in working the reeking filth into each other's hairy armpits. Swirling the stink out over our chests and down to our hard, aching cocks which twitched at one another's filthy touch. As we added fresh shit to our dirty deed, Brad and I would then smear our asses, dragging our hands up and down the hairy trench of the other while we grinded our nasty crotches together and kissed each other deeply, hungrily sucking at one another's tongues and passing spit back and forth. If we had a turd that was firm and knotty, we'd put it in our mouths and suck on it together as we rubbed our filthy bodies together. Laying down in the shower stall, we'd writhe and wallow in our filth, greedily sucking on dirty dicks, toes and armpits. We'd exchange the shittiest of kisses as we shampooed one another's hair in piss and shit. The stench that swirled up our nasal passages only drove us deeper and deeper in our crazed lust for each other. Wrapping our legs around one another we'd hump our dirty cocks together groaning and panting, whispering our raunchiest desires to one another. When we could no longer hold back the floodgates of our lust for each other, we ejaculated hard, sending geysers of creamy cum flying into the air and splattering down on our heaving bodies. But there was something else Brad always did. Something that touched me deeply. After we'd played and the edge of our lust had dissipated, he'd hold me close and kiss me deeply and whisper, "thank you, Tommy. I love you." I melted in Brad's strong arms everytime he did that. It was the crowning moment of what had transpired between us. It was as if a seal of approval had been stamped upon our sexual act that didn't make what we had shared together, something dirty and nasty. Rather, the feelings I perceived were quite the opposite. I began to wrestle with my emotions and feelings about Brad and I. I loved Brad. How could I not? After all, he was my brother. But there was something else knawing away at me. Chapter 3 By Friday evening the ice chests were filling quite nicely. The fermenting odor of stale piss and rancid shit permeated the cabin keeping all five of us in a state of horny anticipation. I was still wrestling with my emotions. What teenager dosen't? I needed someone to talk to. "Jeffery?" "Hey, Tommy! What's up?" "Can we go for a walk? Just me and you? I need to talk to you about something." "Sure, Tommy." Jeff said. "Let's go down by the pond, okay?" "Yeah. Okay." I replied. It was a warm, beautiful evening. One thing about being out in the middle of nowhere is that the night sky is awesome. The stars stand out and seem to shine more brilliantly. "What's on your mind, Tommy?" Jeff asked, drawing me in that familiar way of a big brother concerned over his little brother. "I think ... uh ... I think I've fallen in love, Jeffery." I stammered. "That's not a problem, Tommy. That's a good thing." "You don't understand, Jeffery." As we approached the pond we sat down on the soft grass. The crystal clear water glistened in the moonlight. All was still and quiet except for a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees all around us. "Tommy? Help me to understand. You know if there's a way I can help you, I will." "When you went and joined the Navy, Jeffery," I began, "at first it was really hard on me. It seemed that I was crying all the time because I missed you so much." "I know, Tommy." Jeff said, putting his arm around me. "It was hard on me too. If I had realised how all of this was going to effect you, I could have, probably should have waited." "No." I replied, haning my head. "That wouldn't have been fair to you, Jeffery. To hold off your dreams on account of me." "Hey!" Jeff said, with a tender look in his eyes. "You're my brother and brothers can and do make sacrifices for one another." "I know. But that's all in the past now, Jeffery, and now ..." "I think you're having jitters about what the future holds for you, Tommy. Am I close?" "Well, sorta. But it's this other thing that's knawing away at me." "You mean love? Yeah. That can complicate things sometimes but not all the time." "Well I'm fucked!" I said, with a sigh. "How so? Who's the lucky guy, Tommy?" "How do you know it's a guy, Jeffery?" I asked, rather dumbly. "I know you, Tommy. It's a guy. Well?" "Well what?" I was picking my way through this conversation. My heart was racing. "Bradley." I whispered, in a barely audible voice. "Huh?" Jeff asked. "Bradley!" I replied, louder. "Our Bradley?" "Yes." "I see." Jeff said. "Am I whacko, Jeffery?" "No. You're not, Tommy. You're a young man with feelings and emotions." "It's just that ... uh ... Brad and I ... I don't know. We have the raunchiest sex and all and ..." "Love isn't all about sex, Tommy." "Oh, I know, Jeffery. It's just that everytime Brad and I have sex, and we just don't have sex but do things together, afterwards ... uh ... he ... he always thanks me for it and tells me that he loves me. And when he does that I ... oh god, Jeffery! It makes me feel so good inside. Understand?" "I think I do, Tommy. How does Bradley feel? Have you talked to him about this?" "No. I'm scared to. What if he thinks I'm nuts?" "He won't, Tommy. Perhaps in his own way, Bradley is trying to convey how he feels towards you. Testing the ice so to speak." "You think so, Jeffery? When he holds me and kisses me it's all so tender. It's in his eyes. I can see it." "And you can feel it, Tommy. Remember what I told you about Bradley a long time ago?" "Yes. I do." "And was I right?" "Yes. Bradley is rough and tough on the outside but inside he's gentle and loving." "That's our brother, Tommy. That's our Bradley." That night, as I crawled into the king sized bed I was sharing with Dad and Brad and pulled the covers up, Brad rolled over and drew me into his arms. "I love you, Tommy." Brad whispered, gently kissing me. "I love you!" "Oh Bradley!" I sighed, wrapping my arms around my brother. "I love you too!" As we kissed our hands roamed and trailed along naked flesh to throbbing cocks and balls filled with creamy spooge and into hairy crevices ripe with manstink.
I admit it. I'm a total shit freak. I can't get enough of it. For years now I've been eating my own shit. I love the taste, the smell, the feeling of it when I chew it. I am a total scat freak. When I was just fifteen I heard about scat. I was already sucking off some of my friends by then, and was looking to broaden my horizons. On the internet I discovered pretty much every fetish known to man. But the one that interested me the most was scat. Eating shit. I just had to try it. I started by trying to eat my own shit - that took some time. It's an acquired taste, and once I acquired it, there was no stopping me. I can't remember the last time I flushed one of my turds. I just keep eating them. A few years later my grandfather came to live with us - he was bedridden and used a bedpan. It was my job to dump it. Of course, I ate it. No one ever found out. Sometimes it was really runny and like diarrhea. I'm more of a fan of solid shit, but having really runny shit every now and again is good. My last boyfriend never knew about my shit eating. As often as I could I would "break" the toilet. I'd make it so it didn't flush - hope he would take a shit - and then offer to fix it. I would always emerge from the bathroom with a full stomach saying, "it flushed!" I love shit. But, until now, I had never had anyone actually feed me shit. I've always just found it on my own without anyone knowing. But, I managed to locate a site online that was a scateater site. Every guy on there was into scat, and it was a great place to meet guys. They also had listings and stories about scat cruising places. Now this interested me the most. Meeting a stranger and eating his shit - without knowing anything about him. That's what I wanted to do. I had read about this rest stop on the highway that was frequented by truckers who are into most anything, including scat. You were supposed to sit in the far stall, wait for someone to come in, and say "Hell of a night, isn't it?" This was the scat fan's code to avoid any possible sticky situations. The usual cruising trick, tapping your foot, wouldn't work on the scat fan because you never know who's into scat - even if they want to suck your cock or not. I drove out there that night - I couldn't wait to get some shit in my mouth. It was late. I got there at about 1:30 in the morning. The site said the best time to cruise for scat was between midnight and 4:00 AM. I sat down in the stall and waited. I was all alone. The suspense was enough to drive me crazy. My dick bobbed up and down, hard as a rock. Then, suddenly, the door swung open. All I saw were the feet. The paused for a second, then moved to the urinal, but slowly. From what I could tell, this was a big guy. I was sweating and nervous. I could barely speak. "Hell of a night, isn't it?" I said. I heard him stop in mid-stream. He started walking towards my stall, with a very slow and deliberate pace. "It sure is, little fella," he said. As he came closer I finally got a look at him. He was huge, probably about 6'4" and at least 250. He was muscular though, strong, not just fat. His dick was still hanging out of his pants. It was hefty, uncut, and very thick. He was wearing a blue checkered flannel shirt completely unbuttoned. I could see his hairy body. His jeans were old and stained. He had a trucker's cap on and bushy blonde hair sticking out of it. He also had a moustache. "You hungry?" he asked me. I couldn't say anything. I just smiled, and he knew. "Well get ready then, `cause I got a big fucking log in my ass and I want you to eat every inch of it." There were no words to express how excited I was. He walked into my stall and turned around. His ass was huge, and his hole looked like he was no stranger to cocks in his ass, or fists for that matter. He had great big asslips surrounding his hole, they were twitching and expanding. It looked like I could fit most anything in there - and that made me all the hornier. He backed up until his ass was right against my face. I placed my hands on his waist. He grunted, and out came the shit. My mouth was wide open but it didn't matter. This was a huge fucking shit log. It was firm, but not completely solid. It snaked into my mouth as far as it would go but it just kept coming. The rest of it smashed against my chin and then some fell onto my lap. And still he kept pushing. Another long log came out but there was nothing I could do. It fell in my lap with the rest of the first log. My face was practically buried in shit and my mouth was completely full. I swear this guy shit out two feet of shit. He turned around. "Now eat!" He didn't need to tell me. I was already chewing madly. The taste was terrific. My cock was raging but I was just concentrating on eating this stranger's shit. For all I know he could be diseased, but I didn't care. This was far too erotic to waste this wonderful shit. I started swallowing and finally ate all that was in my mouth. "Now pick up the rest and eat that too." Again, he didn't need to tell me. I picked up all the rest of the shit and smashed it into my mouth. Some got smeared on my face but that only spurred me on further. I could see him - he was aiming his cock at me. He started to piss all over me. I felt glorious. I hadn't done golden showers in years but I forgot how good they were. I started pissing too - my cock was going wild and piss was getting everywhere. It all went on his cock and pants and he seemed to like that. I was still eating and swallowing this guy's warm, brown, shit when I started rubbing some that was on my lips all over my face. I wanted to be covered in shit. I rubbed it on my face, in my hair, and on my clothes. I was off the deep end of passion as I chewed and savored this shit. I had never felt so amazing. I was in heaven. This guy's shit was so fucking smelly and brown and tasty I couldn't get enough of it. And now it was all over my body. Finally I swallowed the last bit. I was licking my lips. The guy was still staring at me with his cock at attention. "Open up." I opened up willingly. He grabbed my shit-covered head and started fucking my mouth. He was really giving it to me. His cock was about 7 inches from what I could tell, and it went down easy. He was furiously fucking my face and I was loving every second of it. Within just about a minute or so he started cumming. He pulled his cock out partway, leaving just the head sitting on my tongue as he deposited his load in my mouth. I moaned louder than I ever had in my life and came myself. After he shot his entire cum wad in my mouth I gladly swished it around in my mouth and swallowed. It tasted so fucking good. "Fuck. You're just a regular shit-loving cockslut aren't you?" "Yes, oh god yes." "Next time I'll fuck your ass like that. After you eat all my shit like a good shiteater, okay boy?" "Anytime you want." And I meant that. He left then. Quickly. Surprisingly no one came in the stop during that whole experience. I can only imagine what they would have done. I was still reliving the experience when the door opened. There I was, covered in shit and piss, my cock out and dripping cum.... Whoever it was walked over to my stall. It was a cop. "Christ, you are a mess!" I just stared at him. "I should arrest you. I know what you were doing in here." "You can't prove anything." "I don't need to." "Fuck. Are you really going to arrest me?" "Well, that depends on what you want to do for me." This night is just beginning, I thought.
It was a quote by Santorum, whose name is synonymous with the stuff that comes out of a butthole after gay sex, so I thought the stories were appropriate. The guy is your typical closeted, self-hating gay basher.