This fictional story depicts acts of a homosexual nature and includes frank descriptions of piss, raunch and scat. If you are under age or offended by this type of behavior, please do not read any further. If you like the story or have ideas for new chapters, please send me an email: buttsniffer777@gmail.com.
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Perving Over my Coworker
By Butt Sniffer777
Chapter 3
My world had been rocked by becoming sexy Bry's shit-eating human toilet. After the scene we'd had at his house I was obsessed. All I could think about was his nasty hole shoved into my face while I sucked out every bit of his shit and savored it. I lay in bed that night with the smell of his filthy ass soaked into my beard, huffing his fumes. I couldn't wait until the next time we could get together for more nasty fun.
The following day I made it into the office first, and I wondered to myself how things would be at work now that I'd become Bry's personal pig. Would things be the same during the day, or would our working relationship have changed? I'd just gotten logged in and ready to work when the office door opened and I heard Bry's footsteps coming down the hallway. I hesitated to do anything, preferring to wait and see how he acted. I figured I'd take my cues from him. Soon enough, his grinning face poked around the door frame. "Hey, shit eater -- that was fucking amazing yesterday. Fantastic job!" He walked into my office and leaned against a filing cabinet I had near my desk. "I sure hope you enjoyed that too, because you're going to be eating lots of my shit in the future whether you liked it or not. So best get used to it."
I breathed a sigh of relief and flashed Bry a grin. "Fuck yeah, buddy -- that was insane. I loved getting all that nasty shit out of your hole. I can't wait to eat your amazing turds again."
"Good answer, pig!" Bry said. "You're going to get a bunch of bellyfuls from me soon enough. I was doing some thinking last night and I've got some ideas. Tomorrow night I've got basketball. I want you downstairs at 9."
Shit -- literally! I knew exactly what Bry was talking about. Our building has locker rooms in the basement and many of the tenants commute to and from work by bike. I'd been known to go down there to piss some mornings just in case any of the studs who worked in the building where there showering after their commutes. And I mean studs -- there were some mighty hot guys who worked in various offices -- one of the huge perks of working where I did. It was always nice to catch a glimpse of a sexy guy toweling off. Bry and some other guys in the building played basketball one evening a week -- nothing super organized, just a pick-up game. There was an outdoor court in a park about a block away from the office, and they'd often play for a couple hours and then catch a beer before heading home. The idea of taking care of Bry's sweaty, shitty hole after a couple hours of shooting hoops sounded like perfection. I immediately started salivating at the thought.
"Fuck yeah, man -- I'll be there!" I answered immediately. "I want your sweaty shitter on my face. Get you cleaned up after the game."
"That's exactly what you're going to be doing, pig." Bry said. "Until then, here's some homework for you." His hand emerged from behind his back with a bulky lump in a ziploc bag which he tossed to me. I caught the bag in mid-air and immediately identified it as a pair of underwear as I examined its contents in my hand. "I've had these in my locker downstairs for a couple weeks and keep forgetting to take them home to wash. Now that I know I work with a fucking human toilet, I won't need to take these home to get them clean anymore. That's your job, shit-eater." Bry had an evil twinkle in his eye. "Those stay in the bag until you get home. They're gonna be fucking pickled by the time you open them tonight. Eat `em up, nasty pig!"
I couldn't believe my good fortune -- a pair of shit-encrusted underwear worn by such a hot man, and they were mine to lick clean. "Thanks, Bry -- Fuck! I can't believe I get to suck the shit out of those tonight. You're awesome, man." I couldn't wait for this day to end. I had a date with a fat reefer, some poppers and a baggie full of crusty, sweaty drawers. Let me at `em!
"This stays between us, bud. We carry on work as normal, but you're mine to use whenever it suits me. Starting now. Have fun cleaning up my waste tonight, fucker." Bry turned around to head to his office, then suddenly thought better of it. He returned to where I was sitting. "Here's something to help you get through your job today. Huff it all, pig." Bry turned around as he grabbed my head and shoved it into his spectacular, round ass. I was held in dark confinement up against his ass trench. I wasted no time in inhaling deeply to get his smell into my nose and lungs. He was already ripe even though the day had scarcely begun. He was clearly paying attention to me as he waited while I held my breath, letting my body take in his odor. I had no more released my lungful of stale air when I felt his hand apply pressure to the back of my head and my face was blasted with a wall of dank, shitty gas. PPHHHHFFPPPHHHLLLLAAAAAAATTTTTTTT! The onslaught seemed to last a good 10-15 seconds as the rumble continued, eventually losing its strength and finishing in a soft series of moist pops and a final sigh of rank gas as the fart expired. I could feel my skin vibrate from the force of his fart. I sucked in deeply, trying to capture every molecule of his stench, feeling the greasy, putrid air cling to my face and to the inner surface of my nostrils. The fart had been a wet one, and I could hear the crackling, popping squelch of his ass as he pushed his shitty air into my face. The smell was incredible, penetrating deep into my body as I held his massive, greasy fart in my lungs. I could feel myself salivating as the taste buds toward the back of my tongue were activated by the thick gas.
I groaned as I breathed in load after load of his butt blast, losing myself in the depraved joy of inhaling Bry's waste fumes. If anyone caught me like this I'd be totally fucked. Eventually I felt the handsome man release my head and I pulled my face back. Holy shit, that was hot! I could smell his putrid fart soaked into my beard and mustache, and I knew that I'd be living off that smell all day, huffing my upper lip whenever I needed a hit. Bry grinned at me and turned around, giving me a show of that perfect, buxom ass as he headed to his office and our days began for real.
I have almost no recollection of anything that happened that day. My brain was completely short-circuited from start to finish. All I could think of was the baggie of Bry's shitty drawers that I'd stashed in my backpack. Between that and the knowledge I'd be getting his crap factory skewered on my tongue in a little more than 24 hours, it was miraculous that I functioned at all. I took many whiffs of his fart from my mustache, and eventually the smell dissipated. I was happy that was the case, because I wanted to be completely cleared out before I took my first whiff of Bry's underwear.
Eventually the afternoon passed and I hot-footed it out of the office. Bry gave me a leer as I left but said nothing. He already knew exactly what I'd be doing tonight. I got home and immediately stripped, taking a warm piss in a pint glass so I'd have something to drink when the action started. I pulled my stash out of a kitchen drawer and rolled myself a fattie. I was planning on getting completely blasted. I worked my way through more than half of the J over the space of fifteen minutes. By the time I took my last hit I was beginning to feel the effects of the weed. I knew I'd be completely wasted soon. I had a fresh bottle of poppers, but I decided I needed to save that for tomorrow night. I grabbed another bottle and walked over to the front hall where I'd dropped my pack. I'd deliberately held off from touching the baggie when I got home, preferring to be super stoned before I took it out of my pack.
I took several swigs of my still-warm piss and unzipped the pack and put my hand in, immediately making contact with the baggie that crinkled with my touch. I brought it out of the knapsack but still didn't look at it. I carried the bag gingerly and made my way to my bedroom, poppers and piss balanced in my other hand and a boner already pointing upward and swaying as my cock led the way down the hall.
I deposited the poppers, piss and baggie on the nightstand and wasted no time in getting out of my work clothes. I went into the bathroom to grab a towel and my lube. I climbed onto the bed, tossing my treasure in its bag onto the sheets. I situated myself kneeling, the baggie in front of me, and I unscrewed the lid of the poppers. I took a huge hit, drawing the amyl deep into my lungs and holding it there, counting to ten before I exhaled. The rush was massive and coursed through my body, making me feel like an absolute, filthy pig. Only then did I reach for the crusty underwear.
I brought the bag containing the shorts to my face. They were white and looked to be the tighty-whity type, probably some sort of lycra. The white band had two narrow stripes of red and blue. I could see the tip of a reddish-brown stain on the fabric as it disappeared around the curve of a fold, hidden in the middle of the bundle. I knew I was going to have some fantastic huffing and eating.
Bry had left air in the baggie -- I'd remembered that it'd been softly puffy when I'd put it in my pack. Right now, the baggie seemed to be fuller, more stretched taut. I figured that whatever was growing on that underwear was producing gas, and my cock almost ached with the realization, I was so turned on. I exhaled, clearing my lungs of air. The buzz from the poppers was in full force and my heart raced as I opened one end of the Ziploc closure, creating a gap maybe three-quarters of an inch long. I put the opening of the baggie against my nostrils and drew in as much of the contents of the plastic bag as I could, sucking all the gases out of the bag.
The smell was staggering in its intensity. I reeled as the stench hit my taste buds and nostrils at the same time. It was the filthy, greasy smell of rancid shit and sweat that had been percolating for days, probably. I felt my lungs burn slightly as they filtered the shitty air and sucked another man's gas into my blood stream. The rush was incredible! I breathed into the bag over and over, drawing out more nasty air and taking it into my lungs. If Bry could only see me turned into a filthy toilet in an instant, blissing out on his crappy drawers. Eventually the first hit of poppers wore down and I set the baggie in front of me. I needed to have that hot stud's nasty skivvies in my mouth -- now.
I uncapped the poppers and took another deep hit, sucking the pungent fumes all the way in until there was no more room in my lungs. I held my breath as I brought the bag up and unsealed Bry's underwear. The electric rush of the poppers surged through my body as I extracted the drawers.
The stretched crotch of Bry's shitty undies faced me, still displaying the distended fabric where the head of his cock had been. He must have worn the underwear for a long time, because the crotch was dotted with many circles of dried piss in varying shades of brownish-yellow to rusty orange. The result was an appearance of fabric that had been tie-dyed. It was crusty and stiff with urine and dried cum. I brought the crotch of Bry's drawers up to my nose, inhaling the filthy public park urinal smell into my nose and deep into my lungs. Such a filthy, evocative stench. I pushed my nose into the fabric and huffed over and over, finally sticking my tongue out and taking a long, wide swipe along the expanse of piss stains and dried cum. Fuuuuuuuuccccck...... The taste was absolutely incredible. My mouth watered as I sucked the nasty fabric into my mouth and applied suction, reconstituting the dried mess with my saliva where it formed a pissy, nasty drink that I promptly swallowed down. I kept salivating as the dried piss and semen were eventually cleaned from the fabric. I jerked off furiously in between deep hits of poppers, completely lost in sick, filthy abandon. Every once in a while I'd belch up piss fumes, both from Bry's reconstituted piss as well as my own liquid that I continued to drink in between huffs. As I finished up my work on the front of Bry's drawers, the strong, shitty smell emanating from the seat of his underwear became too compelling to ignore anymore.
I took another hit, this time filling my lungs, holding and releasing, and filling them a second time, holding the fumes in me until I couldn't last any longer. My body buzzed and I felt like a fucking pig slut as I turned the underwear over. Ho. Ly. Fuck.
The smeared mess of Bry's feces permeated the fabric anywhere his shitty trench had made contact with the cloth. It was a mess of varying shades of rust red to dark brown, ranging from light smudges to big chunks of dried shit. I wasted no time in shoving my nose, mustache and beard into the turd-encrusted seat of my coworker's underwear and rubbing my face in it. I huffed huge snorts of crap fumes into my lungs. I was quickly learning that, even though he smelled different whenever I inhaled his farts or shit, there was a certain "Bry-ness" to the smell -- something that was undeniably him. I stuck my tongue into one particularly thick area of brick red shit and started licking. The shit was incredible -- really fragrant and intense, almost rich. And the taste and texture of his turd was absolute perfection. Smooth, but with body, and the most perfect flavor of shit I'd ever tasted. If Bry had been in my room at that moment, I'd have sucked every bit of turd right out of him in a flash. Instead, I dug my top teeth into the shit and pulled back on the cloth, scraping a great deal of his feces onto the back side of my upper teeth. I pried it off of my teeth with my tongue, turning the chunk over and over in my mouth as it created a slurry of crap in my mouth. I chewed on the piece and felt Bry's digested food as it broke apart in my mouth and I swallowed everything down.
Keeping myself strung out on poppers, I worked my way around the whole seat area of Bry's shorts, sucking a small section into my mouth and working the cloth with my tongue and my spit to loosen up the shit. I sucked every bit of it into my mouth, savoring the chunks of Bry's waste before swallowing the mess down. I could hardly believe that I was so lucky. Instead of being fired for getting caught huffing the gas out of Bry's office chair, I now found myself in the hottest, most taboo situation I'd ever been in. My hunky office mate's filthy underwear was in my mouth as I sucked stale feces out of the seat. My mouth was awash in a slurry of his shit. I could feel that the paste of his crap had a grittiness to it, and bits and pieces of his feces lodged themselves in between my teeth and in the space between my cheek and gums, almost like a plug of shitty chewing tobacco. My tongue worked overtime dislodging the chunks from their hiding places so I could swallow the mess down. With each hit of poppers, I'd close my eyes so that I was focused solely on the taste and texture of his waste. The flavor was so intense! I could taste the richness that told me his shit had once been food he'd eaten, but with the acrid edge of bile that came from the digestion process. And all of that had been pushed out of his anus to be caught in the fabric of his underwear until my tongue and teeth took up the job of scraping the greasy shit into my mouth to be swallowed and digested a second time by me. It was the ultimate act of debasement to clean the filth out of another man's underwear. I felt both honored and completely depraved as I sucked every bit of Bry's waste out of his drawers.
Finally, I'd gotten as much of the shit and piss stains out of the fabric as I could, leaving a wet, slightly discolored circle that had once been encrusted with my buddy's nasty crap. I pulled the underwear over my head so that the faint area of damp shit was over my nose and eyes and lay back on my bed jacking furiously. I sucked in the last remnants of Bry's smell from the shorts as well as my beard and mustache, feeling my climax fast approaching. All the while I thought of how it was going to be to feed directly from his greasy, sweaty shithole tomorrow night. That filthy, twisted mental image catapulted me past the point of no return. My cock exploded, sending cum jettisoning in all directions as I moaned in ecstasy. I heaved and panted as if I'd just finished running a marathon, eventually catching my breath as I came down from my perverted session. I lay there in a weed haze with the underwear still pulled over my head, shit stain front and center. I could see just enough out of one of the leg holes to grab my phone from the nightstand and take a selfie, texting it to Bry. I pressed the send button and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later I heard the ping of his response.
"Way 2 go, fuckn pervert. Just how you should look. Ur gonna wear those all nite. Be ready for 2morrow pig -- make sure ur good and hungry."
Fuck! I could hardly wait. I drifted off to sleep in anticipation of what was to come.