from Studs BBS
(415) 495 - 2929
ENEMA FRIENDS
Uploaded to Pink Triangle by David Daines
I had known Michael for about a month. My adult lover, Kevin, had introduced us and when he had told me that he was going to be out of town for our usual weekend sex get-together, he suggested that Michael might enjoy some time with me. I agreed because the man was attractive, bright and had a nice, thick cock which he'd shown to me in flashes when we had been together in public bathrooms. At fourteen, I knew that although I loved my man friend, I wanted sex every chance I could get it. Kevin knew what might happen and I knew what I hoped would. Kevin told me that what he really wanted, was to give me a chance to play the enema and shit games that I loved with another man because he wasn't particularly turned on by them but knew he knew that I was.
That first weekend with Michael had been arranged. He picked me up at Michael's, my mother not caring a whole lot where I was. Michael and I spent some time talking about stupid stuff, and then he showed me some photos he had taken of young men, none as young as me, though, taking enemas. He asked if that type of action interested me. It did and so he took me down into his basement.
The basement was warm and well lighted. The floor was tile and there was a large bed against one wall. In the middle of the room was a large, plastic child's wading pool. At one end was a rack made of thin pipes. Along the wall opposite the bed were counters with drawers and hanging above them were rubber objects, some familiar, and some not. They were all dildoes of some sort or another. I moved over to them.
I examined the dildoes along the wall closely. There were some which were similar to those I'd used with Kevin, my man friend. These were regular dildoes of all different sizes from a little three inch one about the size and shape of Geoff, a young friend of mine at that time (but that's a different story), all the way up to one that I knew I couldn't accommodate: a 15" by 4" monster. There were duplicates of each of these. One with and one without a length of tubing attached. But there were other rubber items which were strangely familiar but not easily identified. They looked vaguely like dicks but not quite. I picked up one. It was about nine inches long, 2-1/2" at its widest and point at the tip without an obvious glans. I looked quizzically at Michael.
"Donkey," he said and then proceeded through the group of odd cocks: dog, pig, horse and bull. I'd need a lot of stretching to take that one.
The rack I described wasn't for tying people to. It had mounted on it two hoses which were attached to the wall of the basement and which fed a single spigot. After showing me around the basement, Michael suggested that we go eat lunch. LUNCH! I was hungry for one thing and my hard, adolescent cock attested to that fact. I wanted sex. More than that, I wanted an enema. Michael insisted and when I got upstairs, I was glad he had. He had a great meal prepared consisting of hamburgers, greasy fries, milk shakes and two bottles of beer. For dessert we had ice cream with hot fudge. I was stuffed to the gills by the time we had finished, lightly high from the beer and beginning to feel the need to piss. I also was aware of having my belly full and needing to empty it soon. I had an idea what Michael had in mind for the near future.
After we finished the lunch, I thought that we'd go back downstairs for some action, but I was wrong. Michael had different plans in mind. He asked me if I'd like to see more pictures. My exposure to porno was minimal in those days and the ones I'd seen earlier of young men shooting the hose had gotten me really horny, so of course I said "Yes."
We went to his living room and sat on the couch. Michael brought out several large cardboard boxes. He pulled a photo binder from one of them and opened it up. I was amazed at what I saw over the next half hour or so. What I did see made me squirm in the couch and got me so hard and horny that I was sure I'd pop my nuts right then. Michael would have none of that and kept me from touching myself while we pored over four of what I estimated were twenty such binders.
The photos were a combination of black and white and colour ones. The people in the pictures were mostly young men, most in their early twenties, some as young as sixteen or seventeen but some were much older as well. Michael had taken many of the pictures himself and most of the participants were represented through the series of books we viewed. The first binder showed men posing and playing with themselves or with others, nothing really unusual.
There were a fair number of cum shots in the book. Although I'd had a great deal of experience by that time, it was mostly with a few other boys and three men (not including Michael). I was intrigued by the differences in size, shape, colour and form of the penises I saw as well as the amount, colour and quality of the semen and the way it could shoot.
The next binder was of men having sex in various positions and combinations with each other, oral and anal. There was nothing new here except the combinations that three or more men could get into and the ability of some men, particularly one sixteen year old red-head, to take really big cocks in their mouths and asses. My lover Kevin, wasn't exactly tiny, and at fourteen I'd developed a good comfortable seven hard inches, but I was truly amazed at the size of one man whom he sucked to the root and whom he then proceeded to accommodate in his well stretched hole.
The last two binders contained the more unusual photos of the afternoon. The first part of book three had men using dildoes and everyday objects on themselves and each other. The redhead was in many of these shots. He took golf balls, candles, carrots, hot dogs, hard boiled eggs, lemons and a really huge cucumber. Michael saw my interest in this youngster and told me that he felt that someday, I could surpass his abilities if what he suspected about me was correct. The second part of the book involved the men with animals: dogs mostly, but also some goats, sheep a pig and even a pony. Michael explained that he had a friend who owned a farm. I had thought about what it might be like to have sex with animals but figured that was so kinky and far out that on one else ever thought about it let alone did it. I was wrong. Here were men sucking the different beasts to erections or rubbing the strange, misshapen penises, penises much like the odd dildoes downstairs. Some of the photographs showed the men with open mouths and wads of what I took to be animal sperm dripping out. Some of the photos were of men helping the beasts to mount another man and the fucking which took place afterward. The redhead was prominent in these pictures once again, and he was the only one in the photos involving the pony.
I suspected that Michael kept the last book of photos for last on purpose. They were the filthy shots, the ones of men pissing onto each other, into each others mouth or up their asses (shown by a sequence of photos.) There were pictures of men shitting by themselves, sequences which showed the action from start to finish and other sequences which showed men in groups of twos, threes and fours shitting for and onto each other. The last pictures in the binder were really messy ones, including men jacking themselves or others off, their bodies smeared with shit. You can guess who was in almost all of these photos. The young, horny redhead, of course. The last page of photos was of him with four other men. He was on a bed and in each photo a different man was crouched over him and laid his load on the kid. The final shots were of him pulling on his shit covered cock, a wad of spunk flying from its tip and a man whom I recognized as Michael squatting over his face. A long, firm turd hung from Michael's asshole and ended inside the boy's mouth. The final shot was a close-up of the kid's face, brown turd well inside his mouth. He looked like he was sucking off some strange penis, but the penis was obviously a piece of shit.
By the time we finished our viewing, I was hot and sweaty, ready to cum at the least provocation. The tip of my cock had been oozing pre-cum, for the better part of the half hour and there was a small dark spot on the front of my Levi's from where it had soaked through. It looked like the beginnings of a piss spot, but both Michael and I knew better. I was also extremely full in the gut and the two beers had worked their magic in making my bladder full as well. Before I stood up to go, he undid my pants, reached into my crotch and cupped his hands around the bulge in my underpants that my hard-on made. I thought that he was going to bring me off right there in my pants. Instead he took his fingernail and pinched the tip of my penis, sending a pain through it which was sharp enough to cause it to wilt and to bring me back from the edge of an orgasm.
When we went downstairs, Michael undressed me except for my underpants. He kept those on me but pulled them down in the back to examine the seat. The meal we had eaten had given me gas which I had been passing openly and sometimes noisily while we were upstairs looking at the photos. There were some brown streaks in the seat of the white jockeys, stains which usually embarrassed me but which this day I knew were appreciated. Michael put his nose down into the pants and took a long, full breath to smell the scent of the stain. When he had exhaled, I gave something else to smell, partly on purpose because I could have waited, and partly unintentionally because I could not have waited long. He drank the raunchy smell of my fart and then pulled a pocket knife from his pants. With these he made as small hole in the middle of the skid marks in my pants. He put the knife away and then undressed himself to his own shorts. These, too, were streaked, more so than mine. I repeated the ritual of smelling them that he had performed on me and he, with some straining, managed to blow off a silently but very smelly fart right into my nose.
Michael went to one of the drawers along the wall and took out several enema bags and a variety of tubes and nozzles. He hung one of the bags on the rack by the wading pool, filled it with water and told me to climb into the wading pool. I did so and lay on my belly as I was told to do. He stood over me and carefully inserted the nozzle of the tube through the hole in my jockey shorts and after a moment of probing with the tip, into my hole. He hadn't lubed the tip, so it was a little rough going in, but I liked the way the roughness felt.
"You told me upstairs that you were an expert at taking enemas," Michael said to me, "so let's see how much of this you can take." He opened the pinch valve on the tubing.
I expected the customary rush of air then water to occur as soon as Michael had opened the pinch valve on the enema tube, but nothing happened. He pulled the nozzle out of my hole and examined it. It was streaked and smeared with my feces. He held it up so I could see it from my position on my belly.
"Plugged," he said. "You've got a pretty good load in there." He snipped the nozzle with his finger and re-opened the valve. The small brown plug popped out and landed by my head. Michael then crimped the tubing and placed the tip of the nozzle against my pucker. Then he released the hose so that water pushed against the sphincter as it flowed out and slipped the spurting tube into my rectum easily.
It had been several months since I'd given myself a hosing and the initial surge of water in my intestine felt good. Because I knew that I would be playing enema games with my lover's friend, I had avoided having a bowel movement since the previous morning. The meal Michael had given me was still sitting in my stomach but deep in my intestine was a sizable load wanting to come out. The warm water from the enema hit the barrier and filled up the lower end of my intestine, making me feel like I needed to unload the liquid almost immediately, but I fought the urge and soon the water was beginning to expand the intestinal walls in order to let the water flow deeper.
As I've told you, I had been taking enemas since I was eleven years old and taking them on my belly was one of my favourite positions. But I had never taken one while wearing my underpants and those underpants I was wearing were soaked from my earlier pissing. As my gut filled, I pressed my belly against my hard cock. Michael knew what I was doing and knew as well that I could give myself a premature orgasm that way. He reached under me and pulled my penis down so that it was wedged between my legs. At that age I had a fair amount of length, especially when hard, so my cockhead was touching the enema tube as it filled my ass.
The pressure from the water pushed against my already full bladder causing me to lose control and begin pissing again. The piss flowed up against my crack and soaked the rear of my jockeys. Michael watched for a moment then pinched the flow shut until I was able to control the flow myself.
The water was flowing around the load in my gut, filling me so that I beginning to cramp. I wanted to hold as much as I could. After all, I had bragged during our meal that I could hold as much as two quarts of water which was true, true if I was previously cleaned out. I didn't know how much I had taken but I knew I couldn't take much more. One final, vicious cramp caused my sphincter to spasm and loosen. Mike had been watching closely so as soon as the nozzle popped out, he had turned off the water and pulled it from my pants. A sudden flood of water filled those pants so that I could feel them temporarily balloon with the liquid before the water splashed out around my legs. Almost simultaneously, a large, solid mass splatted from my hole, pressing against my hard cock. After the first turd came out, another flood of enema water came, bringing with it a large amount of soft, small pieces of shit. I lay breathless in my stink, Michael massaging my ass through the sodden cotton of my briefs.
So I lay in a puddle of stinking enema water, a load of my own shit massed within my wet underpants. Michael was massaging my ass, gently pressing a single, large turd against my softened prick. There were within the pants, numerous smaller, softer pieces of my excrement as well. The warmth of the turd stirred sensations within me as did Michael's attention.
Once I was hard again, Michael pulled me to my feet. His own cock was still only semi-erect. He attached a second enema set-up to the rack and filled both bags, commenting as he did that I was only able to take about two cups of the liquid.
"Hope you can do better the next time," he said.
While I had long been involved with enemas and water sports, these were mostly solo games or fairly restrained ones. Not since my games with John when I was 12 years old, had I actually shared the filth of my activities so openly with another person.
When the bags were both bulging with warm water, Michael handed me a large jar of Vaseline and the enema tube I had recently had in me.
"This is for me, now," he said. "Grease me up well and slip the nozzle in. I'm in the same condition you were before and I need a good cleaning out." He turned his back to me and bent over.
Michael was heavier than Kevin but it was mostly muscle which he carried. His cheeks were tight and firm as I pulled them apart to reveal his brown pucker.
I took a gob of Vaseline on my fingers and began to rub it around the hole. As I did so, Michael winked it at me with the culito several times. We both laughed when he did. As the sphincter got greasier, it relaxed and I was able to slip my finger in. Yes, Michael was in a similar state to my own previous one. Almost upon insertion, my finger came up against a solid, soft barrier.
I pushed my finger in as deeply as it would go, forcing the turd farther back up into Michael's rectum. He moaned as I did so.
I pulled my finger out. It was well streaked with shit. Without thinking, I did something that I frequently did after I finger fucked myself. I licked my finger clean. Instead of being grossed out as some men might have been, Michael looked pleased. The nozzle of his enema slipped in easily.
When I had finished my insertion, Michael had me bend over and then slowly pulled my dirty underpants down. As they settled about my ankles I had a chance to see them clearly for the first time. They were far filthier than I had imagined. Michael's massaging had smeared the crap about them well. I looked at my penis as it sprang up from its recent imprisonment between my legs. It was rock hard and nearly as dirty as my pants were. I bent over as I was ordered to do and then Michael showed me what he was about to insert in me. It was one of the long, flexible rubber tubes. As he began pushing it into me, I asked him if he was really going to try to get it all in.
"Try! I'll get it all in and have you begging me for mercy as I do."
Actually, the tube felt good as it slipped along my intestine. Several times it would hit against a kink in my gut which Michael expertly got around by having me change my position or by twisting the tubing slightly. My bladder had barely been relieved of its contents earlier and it was now calling to me for relief. I couldn't help myself. As the last of the tubing slid into my ass, I started to piss. Michael grabbed my spewing cock and my squeezed the flow off and at the same time squeezed my balls so hard that I cried out.
"You will only piss and shit when I tell you. Do you understand?" he said. I nodded in pain, tears in my eyes. But I'd stopped peeing and I knew that the man's principal concern was that we both have as good and as dirty a time as possible.
We were ready. Michael connected the tubing that protruded from my rear end to the free enema bag, pulled up my pants and had me lie down on my back. My cock was soft from the pain he'd given me but it was starting to stir in anticipation. He knelt over me, his own hard cock and clenched asshole in my face. Then he turned on the water for both of us.
For those poor souls who don't like enemas, high colonics are among the worse forms of torture. At fourteen, I had never had one until that glorious, shit smeared weekend. I lay in the wading pool with my filthy pants pulled snugly against my abdomen and the two feet or so of tubing in my intestine. When Michael turned on the valve, an intense, warm surge of water blasted me in what felt like my stomach. A wave of nausea came but quickly passed as my belly began filling up. What did stay up, though, was my seven inches of young meat.
I glanced from my own rising belly to Michael's ass which was inches above my face. His cock was as hard as mine and I knew that the hose in him was delivering water into his rectum as forcefully as mine was doing to me. When I started to touch my hard on, Michael pushed my hand away.
"Later," he snarled, "I get to come off first and I'll tell you when you can.
If you can't keep your hands off yourself, I can tie them down."
There wasn't any need for that for although I was aching to jerk on my prick, I was willing to hold off the final pleasure in order to enjoy the filling up I was getting. The water was making its way down my intestine toward my hole.
My distended guts pressed against my bladder, adding to my discomfort. I had never felt so full in my whole life: my bladder ached to be emptied, my guts were ready to spill out the water that so thoroughly filled them but mostly I wanted to shoot my load so badly that my penis tingled.
I heard a gurgle from the other bag. Michael had taken his full two quarts. Shortly afterward, my bag gurgled and a bubble of air entered my guts.
"Please" I pleaded, not sure what I was begging for. Michael knew. He pulled the tube from his ass with only a small amount of water squirting from it and spattering my face. He began to withdraw the tubing slowly from me, talking to me softly as he did, encouraging me to hold the contents of my intestines within me. He kept my hole squeezed tight and finally got the end out. I didn't know how long I could hold the two quarts of water in me, but Michael didn't wait long before he pulled my pants off and dropped them between my legs and pulled my legs up over my head.
Without his hand to keep my ass closed and with the added pressure from the position my legs were in, the warm enema water began to squirt in short burst from my hole. Almost immediately, Michael slammed his hard cock into my asshole and began fucking it in a frenzy. Water and bits of shit sprayed around the pounding prick as Michael fucked me. I could feel the water in me sloshing throughout my system as the cock tore into me and battered my prostate. Even though Michael wanted to come first, I beat him to it, my cock spewing gobs of semen shortly before his did. With all of the water in me, I couldn't feel the jizzum he shot into me, but I knew he was cumming when he collapsed onto my stomach and lost control of his own bowels, spraying us both with deep brown water and large pieces of his shit. I, too, lost complete control, forcing out his softening penis in a flood of my own intestinal deluge.
We lay together in our stink for several minutes catching our breaths as if glued together by our excrement. Never before had I so thoroughly shared in my own degradation with another. I loved it and I loved it when Michael began to rub my drooping dick with something slimy, soft and warm. He was getting ready for another round.
At fourteen, a boy can do a lot that we grow into men no longer becomes possible. At that age I could have five or six ejaculations a day with little effort, the limiting factor being whether the shaft of my penis was sore or not. If I was at home alone, I would usually wait about half an hour or more before starting again on the road to pleasure. When with Kevin, we would always cuddle for at least that long before starting anything again. But now, I knew that Michael intended to continue his games with me regardless of whether I was "ready" or not. He, not I, was in charge.
I looked toward my crotch. He was, as I expected, rubbing my soft, rubbery dick with one of the pieces of shit he had expelled from his intestine during his orgasm. After several minutes of smearing me, he got to his knees and turned so that his ass was facing me. Without so much as a "how do you do," he let fly with the remaining liquid in his intestine. There wasn't much shit in the water, but he got my face and chest well soaked with the warm fluid.
After emptying himself, he removed the enema bags from the rack and refilled one of them. He told me to stand up and then handed me the long colonic tube and had me attach it to the bag's regular tubing and then insert it in his hole.
I love getting multiple enemas and have since shortly after I began giving them to myself. However at that time, after a full lavage, I could never take as much on subsequent fillings. My hole just couldn't clamp tight enough to keep more than three or four cups of water in (if I was lucky.) I wondered if Michael would be able to take the full bag so soon after his own cleansing. He knelt on all fours and had me open the valve. At his direction, I hung the bag on the highest hook on the rack. I knew that the water was surging deep in his intestine and marvelled at how easily he seemed to take it. The bag flattened quickly and I shut the valve off when it did.
Michael stood and slowly pulled the tubing from his ass without spilling a drop. He then walked with cheeks clamped over to the wall of dildoes and tubing and pulled down a device whose purpose escaped me. It was a hose with two strange looking nozzles attached. On one end was what looked like a regular enema nozzle but was much wider with a wide opening. At the other end was what I subsequently learned was a double balloon enema tube. This he slipped into my ass easily.
After putting the enema tube in me, Michael inflated the inner balloon. It felt tight against the inside of my anus and I felt like I needed to expel it but could not do so. Then he inflated the second balloon on the outside.
"You'll keep in what I put in you, now," he said. Then he handed me the other end of the tube.
"This might be a little messy, he warned, "but put this in me." He bent over and pulled his ass cheeks apart. Doing so caused a spray of enema water to spurt out before he could clamp his hole shut. I put the nozzle at the hole and pushed it in, again causing a gush of water to spray from his hole. I got the tube in with only minor leakage.
I lay down in the wading pool on my back. Michael stood over me, his belly distended with the two quarts of water he had taken earlier. He undid a pinch valve on the hose and the next thing I felt was the gurgle of air that announces the beginning of an enema and then the rush of warm water directly from my enema friend's shit tube. He filled me quickly, both from gravity and the added pressure he was supplying. As my colon filled, I knew that I would not be able to take very much. I tried to hold it, but I lacked the muscle control to be able to do so.
I don't know how much I took into my young ass when I gave up trying to hold it and relaxed my sphincter, expecting the tube to explode from it in a shower of used enema water. The nature of the enema tube became clear to me. Even though I was now actively trying to rid myself of the intruding liquid, The tube stayed in me. I lay on the ground in agony as Michael drained nearly two quarts into me. When he finished, he disconnected the tubing from his end and clamped it shut. The cramps were so bad that I thought I was going to barf.
Michael pulled me to my feet and brought me over to a chair that was made from a toilet seat so that I could sit down and not disturb the apparatus protruding form my young hole.
"Bedtime," he announced.
While I watched, Michael made the bed next to me. He started with a plastic sheet and then laid out bedsheets and a blanket.
"Wait here on the seat," he told me and then disappeared up stairs for a time.
While he was gone, I sat wondering what the evening would bring, my abdomen smeared with my own shit and my belly painfully full of Michael's previous enema. The man returned while I went over in my mind what might be next.
Michael was carrying a box with him when he returned. Inside there was six pack of beer, some sandwiches, two bowls of chocolate pudding and two bottles which I didn't recognize. As full as I was, the last thing that I felt like doing was eating, but Michael insisted that I do so. I finished off my two corned beef sandwiches and drank two beers. My stomach was beginning to cramp badly and when I told Michael that I thought that I was going to throw up, he had me lie down for a few minutes until the feeling passed. When I felt better, I got up from the bed and finished the pudding. Then he handed me one of the strange looking bottles. I had metal wires that held a glass stopper in place like the Grolsch beer bottles which were popular here several years ago.
"Drink down the whole bottle," Michael told me while showing me how to open it by opening the one he held. He drank his in three gulps. "It's sodium citrate which is a rather effective laxative, nothing else, though."
Although I expected it to be, it wasn't bad tasting at all. After I'd finished mine, we finished the remaining beers. Then I got into the bed, shitty body and all, and Michael got in next to me. Because of the tube set-up extending from my asshole, I had to lie on my side. I turned over so that I was facing Michael. The nights I'd spent with my lover, Kevin, had gotten me to where I loved to cuddle with people and I intended to do so with Michael that evening, even if we both stunk and I was in no small discomfort.
"Do whatever you need to do," the man told me as he pulled me close to himself. Then he began to fondle my limpness until the warmth in my penis displaced the ache in my belly as my main centre of focus. He pushed his own penis against mine. It was hard, of course.
Michael spent the next hour rubbing my cock and bringing me to the edge of an orgasm and then pulling me away from it, usually by squeezing my nuts, but sometimes by pressing my belly so that my stomach ache resurfaced or by wriggling the tubing around in my ass. Gradually the activities of the day overcame me and I drifted off to sleep with a dull ache in my gut and a full bladder. In my sleep I felt someone moving my body around, but I slept through it. I could also feel an easing in the fullness I was feeling.
I awakened abruptly from my sleep with a tremendous stomach cramp to realize that I was pissing in bed. I hadn't wet my bed (except deliberately) since I was a very little boy and the time with my friend Kevin when his lying on top of me during intrafemoral sex made me lose control of my very full bladder. My first impulse was to stop the flow of the warm liquid but then I remembered where I was and that Michael had told me to do whatever I needed to. I could feel one of his hands against my crotch, feeling the flow of the urine from my penis and obviously enjoying it. To my surprise, he was feeling it through cloth, and I looked to see I was wearing a pair of tight fitting shorts which he had evidently slipped on me during my sleep. I was lying on my side with Michael kneeling over me, his other hand pressed against the cloth of the pants at my rear end. Apparently he had removed the tube when he had pulled the pants over my legs. He had a raging boner which waved near my face.
As I said, I had awakened because of a bad stomach ache. I could feel Michael rubbing against my full rectum and I knew what he wanted so I let go of the contents of my guts just as I was finished pissing. The pants filled with soft but not liquid, warm shit. The mass spread a short way down my legs and up my back and was trapped by the elastic of the pants legs and waist. It seemed like I kept going for a long time, the mass of shit spreading between my legs and up the front while filling the back completely. The stench was glorious and I got hard immediately. I was living a dream. All the while, Michael kept massaging me front and back, pushing the shit around so that enveloped my hardened cock. The pressure of his rubbing forced some of the squishy mess out from the elastic waist band in front.
I scooped some of the shit from my belly and began rubbing it on Michael's hard on. He rolled me from my side to my back and pulled my shorts down to my crotch. My own shit covered hard on sprang up when released. He repositioned himself and let go of a stream of gooey shit that hit my cock and spattered over my abdomen. He had far more than I did and when he was done, my cock, belly, chest and upper legs were covered in his stink. Without breaking rhythm, he jacked his cock and mine using the combined mess that covered me. It didn't take him long before I was squirting wads of semen into the air, some of it falling back onto my face and chest and some of it spattering into Michael's avidly open mouth. Shortly after I came, Michael began his ejaculation, spewing his spunk into my mouth and on my chest. When he finished, he took his finger and mixed the cum with the shit on my chest.
We came three more times that evening, fucking each other and jacking each other off. Finally we were both exhausted and had almost no semen left. We drifted off to sleep inn each others arms, satisfied and stinking, knowing that we each had a scat partner who could share our individual perversion... and love it.
Let me reset the scene. When I was 13, I began a relationship with a San Francisco fireman whom I call Kevin in these stories. He was the first man with whom I shared my body in the most intimate ways: We would fondle each other, suck each other and play with each other until the sperm was flying. Kevin was the first man to fuck me, although I had been fucked by (and fucked) several boys my own age and younger. Anyway, Kevin liked to share in piss games with me and there were many times that we would drench each other in the tub or in his bed. He particularly liked to piss into my mouth while I knelt in front of him, his willing piss slave. We both enjoyed it when he would put his cock in my rectum and flood me with his first piss of the morning or after he held it for a long time. Unfortunately for me, though, that is as far he liked to go. I could unload in the tub but he wasn't turned on by it or by shit in general. As a favour to me, he would let me wipe his ass for him after he had a bowel movement. Whenever I did this, I would hold the smeared toilet paper to my nose and inhale his stench. Kevin would laugh but also asked me not to go any further. As a sign of his love for me, he would sometimes wipe my rear after I pooped. Because I loved to receive enemas so much and they gave me powerful orgasms, Kevin would administer them to me. He was always very good at it, varying the rate of flow or the temperature of the water, or trying to make them passionate. He didn't like them, though and I never gave him one in all of the years that we played together.
Kevin knew that I was missing a part of my sexual life with him, a part that although he did not disapprove, one he could not join in on. Thus he introduced me to his friend, Michael. I have read in the condemnations of paedophiles written in the press that one of the "awful" things they do is pass boys around. Well, Kevin wasn't passing me around when he introduced me to Michael. He was comfortable enough in the love we had for each other to let me enjoy myself with someone who could give me something he couldn't.
And give something Michael did. That first weekend was a real sleazy, scummy, shitty one. As you recall, on the first day, Michael had given us both several enemas. We played in the mess we made and both of us came several times. After a large dinner, we played some more, the evening ending with him taking two quarts of water up his ass which he then proceeded to give to me by way of an enema tube inserted in my rectum and kept in place by a balloon. Ass to ass communication, it was. We went to bed and after some preliminary play, I went to sleep. I found out by that experience that if you take an enema and can keep it in sufficiently long, the liquid will absorb through the intestines and ultimately end up as piss. Well, as you know I pissed the bed royally and then shit on myself. Michael then shit on my chest and abdomen. After becoming thoroughly besmeared with the our crap, we jacked off four times. When we were done, Michael pulled my pants back up around me and we went to sleep in each others arms and each others shit.
I awakened first the next morning, my ass and crotch itched from the shit, but I was thrilled by the fact that there I lay in the stench of shit which the two of us had played in. Michael was on his side, back facing me. I reached inside the back of the pants he had slipped on me before our bed play and scooped out some of the soft shit that remained. I leaned over him and touched his firm but flaccid cock. Still asleep, Michael rolled to his back.
I started rubbing the shit in my hand on the underside of his penis and then down to the balls. The hair on his balls was already smeared with a combination of our crap. I just added more. Michael woke up at about the same time that his cock did. He pulled me on top of him and thrust his tongue into my mouth as he thrust his hard cock into my shit covered belly.
"Are you full?" he asked while frenching me deeply. I knew what he meant.
"My bladder is. I have to piss something fierce," I answered.
"What about your gut?"
I took stock of the feeling in my belly. While my bladder was indeed almost bursting from all of the enema water my intestines had absorbed, my gut was moderately full as well. "Pretty soon," I answered.
Michael licked at my face, slurping a small piece of faeces onto his tongue. "You taste pretty good," he said and then pushed his tongue back into my mouth. I now know of the dangers of eating shit which I was not aware of then. I also have had a vaccination against hepatitis B which allows me to partake in small quantities. But at that time I was naive and enjoyed the filthiness involved in doing so. One time when I was twelve I took a crap onto a dinner plate and ate three spoons full of it before I got sick and threw up. The only other times I'd actually tasted shit was when I would wipe my finger across my ass after a bm and lick my finger clean or the times I was able to lick the asses of my younger friends. Kids never wipe well. Although the taste of shit is pretty bad, I had gotten used to the bitter acridness of it. This time, combined with Michael's spit, the little bit of shit tasted "good" to me.
"Time for your morning juice," he said rolling us over so that he was straddling my chest. I knew what was coming and opened my mouth. The spray hit the back of my throat at full force and I had to clamp my mouth shut and swallow to keep from puking. Michael didn't stop pissing but splashed his piss all over my face. I opened up as quickly as I good and took much of what he put out.
"Your turn," he said as he shook the last dribbles from his penis. "Do it from there."
I pinched the tip of my penis shut and strained my bladder muscles. When I could feel the piss pushing hard against my blockage, I let go. A stream of yellow liquid burst from the tip and arced upwards toward Michael's waiting mouth. He positioned himself to catch it quickly and swallowed greedily. Even as the flow diminished, he followed it down until his mouth ended up against the tip of my dick and then pulled that into his mouth, suck it clean of the shit from the previous night.
"I'm hungry now," he announced as he let go of my turgid penis. Michael then lay down on his back and directed me to squat over his face, back toward his face. I was on my knees and could see his face through my legs. This was to be a first for me and suddenly I became a little bit "poop shy." I tried but nothing would come out. Michael intervened by playing with my hole gently and then sticking a spit slickened finger in. He withdrew it and showed it to me.
It was streaked with my shit.
"You got it in you, kid, and I want it in me. Take your time."
Michael's play inside my ass loosened the muscles and my inhibitions enough that with the next squeeze my ass opened up and a long, thin, dark brown turd started coming out, dangling down toward Michael's waiting lips. It was one of those soft turds that could break off easily so I squatted a little closer.
As it got within a centimetre or so of Michael's lips, he stretched upward and kissed its tip then opened his mouth. I squeezed harder and the turd kept coming in one long string. Michael was letting it pile up in his mouth and when his mouth was full let it mass on his face. When I finished I spun around in amazement to watch the man as he began to chew and swallow my shit.
"Fuck me," he mumbled through his full mouth, pulling his legs up to his chest.
I was super hard by that time. I spit on the tip of my seven inches and crammed it into his ass as he crammed his mouth full licking more shit into it and what he couldn't get with his tongue he pushed in with his fingers. I came as soon as he finished what I had fed him, licking his lips just as I began my orgasm. He could tell I was cumming and pulled me down to his mouth and began to kiss me with his shitty lips and tongue. I had a feeling that the shit I was tasting that morning would only be a start.
As we finished our kissing, my cock softened and plopped out of Michael's ass.
His prick, though, was at full hardness, pressing urgently into my belly. I touched it and felt a shiver run through Michael.
"My turn, shit face boy," he said as he rolled me off of him. "First let me get you ready." He had me kneel down on the bed and began to clean my ass with his tongue. When he was done, he had me lie on my back. He proceeded to clean off my pubis, my hair and my cock with his mouth. The attention aroused my penis. It filled with blood and got into that semi-hard state that is for me its most enjoyable state.
"Put your hands out," he directed. He scooted around so that his asshole faced me and began his morning's unloading. First his hole peeked open and then shut. Then it opened again as a piece of brown shit started to push its way out. I could tell that his turd was going to be harder than mine had been. In the two years that I'd been playing infrequent shit games with my younger friends at that time (nor in the time that has passed since) I had not tired of watching as shit oozed, plopped, squished, squeezed or poked its way out of an asshole. This was certainly the most intimate look I had gotten up to that point. Michael's turd grew to about six inches before it broke off at the hole in a little point and dropped into my waiting hands.
"Hold it," Michael said, "but don't do anything with it yet." He continued squeezing his gut and two more smaller turds plopped out. When he was done he lowered his butt to my face and told me, "Kiss my shitty ass, turd boy. Lick it clean." I did as he told me, swiping at the hole with my tongue and gathering in the small bits of crap that remained from his bowel movement.
When I had finished, Michael lay down on the bed beside me and then had me straddle his hips while still holding his pile of shit. He grasped his iron hard cock and told me to lower down on it. I loved being fucked by Kevin, my lover that way. When I could feel Michael's cockhead at my asshole, I strained my sphincter to open it. The big head forced its way in with a little pain (which I loved) and I began sliding down the man's six inches. Although he was average in length, Michael's cock was one of those chubby affairs that gets fat quickly and stretched me as I slid down. When I was seated at the base of his cock, he began bucking upward and I followed suit so that he was sliding about half of the cock through my hole. It was hard to maintain my balance with my hands full of Michael's morning offering.
As Michael settled into a steady fuck rhythm, he reached over to my hands and scooped out a small amount of shit. He put his hands to his mouth and licked most of it off.
"Not as good as yours, shit boy," he said. Then he took more from me and then put his hands to my mouth. I opened my lips and let him put his fingers in my mouth. I sucked the man's shit off his fingers and swallowed it. He scooped a larger amount and fed it to me. I tried to swallow it but there was too much so I had to chew first and then swallow. Michael kept fucking harder and harder as he fed me most of his shit, smearing some of it on my face and eating some of it himself. As he was about to cum he grabbed my hands and pushed them into his face and had me smear him as he spasmed violently up my ass. He held me in place as he softened, though he softened without losing much of his size. I felt thoroughly stuffed and was beginning to feel a need to go a second time that morning.
Michael had his hips around my waste and pushed his pelvis upward firmly and then I felt the warm liquid stating into me.
"Go ahead," Michael said, "if you have anything left from the first time, let it go. Go ahead and piss." He must have sensed that my bladder would be full again. As he pissed, I let my flow go, arcing it upward and spraying it around his head and onto the pillow and his chest. I felt my ass fill with his wet warmth and he continued long after I had finished. I began to cramp as he kept his piss going and some of it squirted out from around the firm plug in my ass. I clamped tight to hold the rest of it in. Finally the man had finished.
"Hold tight, honey," he said and then pulled his prick out. I lost a small amount but held pretty well when he did. "Good boy," he said, patting me on the butt. "I want a drink now."
I reversed my position so that my ass was pointed toward Michael's head. He lowered my buttocks down till i could feel his breath on my cheeks and then his tongue played gently at my hole.
"You're a little torn there. Does it hurt?"
I shook my head. I couldn't answer because to do so would have meant that I lost my concentration and would have lost the precious liquor inside me. He continued poking at the rim with his tongue and after several minutes pushed it hard in, saying at the same time, "Let me drink it now. Squirt it out slowly."
I let a squirt of piss splash from my ass and then another. I kept up squirting at Michael while he kept on drinking most of what I shot at him. I watched over my shoulder as I "pissed" on him from my ass. As the urine squirted on him, so did small bits and chunks of poop. These he ingested eagerly. Finally I couldn't control myself any more and let everything go. A flood poured out of my hole in a fantail of yellowish liquid. As that surge stopped, I could feel another mass developing right inside my rectal opening.
I let this go as well. It wasn't the piss which Michael had put into me that came out. I had unloosed all of that right before. Instead, a wave of brown, liquid shit surged out. Michael was being drenched in liquid shit as I watched; I was laughing hysterically to see him covered in my stench and filth. It was a dream I'd often had. Maybe later I could be at the receiving end.
After I had unloaded thoroughly on Michael, I bent over and took his flaccid penis in my mouth and lowered my own floppy dick down to him. I sucked on the flesh tube which had so recently been in my ass as Michael sucked on mine. My cock firmed in the warmth of the man's mouth. I didn't get a real hard on, but I can remember the pleasure that his rolling my cock around in his mouth gave me. We continued like that for about five minutes then we pulled apart.
I moved around and snuggled up to Michael, my head laying in the puddle of watery shit I'd splashed on him.
"Let's get cleaned up, Billy," he said as he licked bits of shit off of my face. "We can play with some of the toys I have over there," (indicating the dildoes and enema adapted dildoes along the wall) "or we can spend a fun day in the country. At my friend's farm."
FARM! I immediately thought of the photos I had seen the previous day.
"Is this the same farm I saw pictures of?" I asked.
"The very same. Wanna come?"
Did I ever! My cock hardened at the thought of playing some new games I'd never played before.