I made my way out of the crowded conference room and down to the bar. The waitress brought a plate of dark pate sandwiches when she brought my scotch.
A bearded, chubby man, like me, walked into the bar, looked around, and made his way to my table.
"Saw you leaving," he said. "Great idea. Mind if I join you? I'm Josh, Chicago." He turned to show me his nametag and affiliation. "Mind if I say I noticed you a couple of times taking a piss and you clearly noticed me."
I laughed. "Yes, I do check the possibilities. Name's Mark." I showed him my nametag. "Thanks for taking the initiative. I could use company."
He laughed too. "Is that chopped shit on that cracker you're eating? What're you drinking?"
I was glad to have the second question while I considered the first one. "Scotch, neat," I said, "tastes like good piss though," I said, "to go with the shit pate."
He ordered the same drink and we were quickly exchanging remarkably similar autobiographical details: both married twice and divorced, both out, he versatile but more top, me the opposite, i.e., more bottom, both into piss and scat, he a couple of years younger. He also had experience in sm, which I had lately wanted to try.
"I'd love to have my balls played with," I managed to say into our third drinks. "Are you busy this evening? Are you staying in this hotel? I should tell you I have trouble getting and keeping a hard on because of medication but nothing wrong with my tongue, mouth, or hands, and I still emit good liquids and solids."
He said simply, "Great. I'll just increase my contributions."
Turned out he had an appointment that evening, which he promptly canceled with his cell phone, and had a room upstairs, where we repaired.
We kissed as soon as he locked the door behind us, and first I drooled onto his tongue. He spit into my mouth and inserted a finger into each of my nostrils, then his tongue. We undressed each other and went into the large toilet with its Jacuzzi.
In the Jacuzzi, I sat down on a seat and he stood in front of me and pissed into my mouth, first in short spurts, to see how I'd swallow him, then in a steady thick stream, which I gulped down as best I could. I did the same for him and we kissed.
He insisted on rimming me first and swallowing my small turd, which I had to force out. "I love your extruded hole he said and, if I may say so, your hemorrhoids. I hope you don't mind mine." We laughed.
"Let me lick some shit marks off your beard,? I said. "And spit in my mouth, please."
We sat on the sofa while Mark poured us straight shots of scotch from his own bottle and talked of our adventures. We kissed often as we talked, exchanged spit and nose mucous, and played with each other's cocks and nipples.
"Play with my balls, Mark," I asked. Mark got up and got one of the hotel sandals, returned, and told me to spread my legs. Then he slapped the sandal sharply against my cock and balls. The surprise caused me to yell out.
"It didn't hurt that much, Mark, sorry. Just surprised. Do more, please."
Mark leaned forward, kissed my limp cock, and then took cock and balls into his mouth, rolling them around. After a while he let everything out except for one testicle, which he bit and chewed delicately. Then he did the other, to my continual moaning.
He told me to put my legs together and let my wet balls and cock rest on my lap. "Lift your cock," he said, "and hold it." He then began a steady slow slapping of my ball with one hand while holding them in his other. He kept increasing the speed and firmness of his slapping as the initial pain turned into pleasure throughout my groin until I came forcefully in his face.
We rested. "Are you ready to fill me up with a full shit?" he asked in a while. "I'm hungry and horny and need to come fully by now."
The balls attack had made me want to shit and I did indeed provide Josh with a full shit, turds first, then some mush, and finally a dribble. We cleaned ourselves up and agreed to meet for the next two nights of the convention.
We groped each other in the elevator, kissed, and walked to his room.