Sometimes you can look and look and look for shitplay and hardly ever find decent action. We all know how that goes. But just like when you misplace keys and determine the fastest way to find them is to stop looking for them, I've recently found that nasty sex can appear almost out of nowhere, when you least expect it.
And so it happened to me, when I least expected it. You see, I live in a quiet, not-so-gay condo complex with 34 other units. Everyone is cordial, if not overtly friendly...but that's ok. Everyone keeps to themselves, yet watches out for anything abnormal or out of place. One of my neighbours Doug lives three doors down. I knew all along he's gay, just via gaydar. The rainbow and leather flags on his wrangler jeep were also a clue. I never really talked to him, other than friendly hello's, etc. I occasionally saw him at bars, usually the leather oriented ones. I figured he was 33-36 years old, Anglo Saxon, probably midwestern (?).
He is rather handsome, but not a "hot steroid muscleboy" or "gym queen" by any standards. He has a weathered look to him, probably because he works for a landscaping company in town. At about 6'1" and 180, I think his "naturally masculine" physique comes from working outside, shovelling, lifting trees, etc. He is definitely not the type I would scope at a bar (I like the skinhead punk type) but I could see why he always was chatting with someone at the bars.
Well I guess he also knew I was gay, and was a bit friendlier to me because of it. In a likewise fashion, I was probably not his type, but I probably wasn't someone he would toss out either. One evening while grabbing my mail, he was coming in from work and grabbed his mail. He said hi, and went into his flat. As I tossed my junkmail into the bin, he re-emerged and said, "hey you live in 13C right?" I said "well until I win lotto, 13C is my castle."
He chuckled, and continued, "well this will seem odd but I'm in a pinch . . .I am leaving on vacation for two weeks and my housesitter just had a baby so I'm in need of someone to keep an eye on my place, water the plants a few times, and turn the lights on/off on weekends . . .I'm leaving in the morning and was wondering if you'd be willing to help me out?"
I thought this was no problem, so told him that would be fine with me since I didn't have any plans anyway. He let me into his place, and showed me the plants, lights, etc. He gave me a key and said he'd leave a note in the morning with details. After I left I thought it was odd that he would give a 'stranger' a key, but I guess he figured I was trustworthy enough.
The next afternoon I let myself in and found his note on the fridge. He outlined just to keep an eye on the place, keep the plants content, and to rotate the lights now and again. He left contact info (vacation on St. Thomas!) and a PS. not to turn off his computer since it was a server with his company's WWW page on it. He left $200 in cash in the envelope, which was a nice surprise but totally ridiculous, so I left it there. This housesitting would require all of 5 minutes a day and certainly not worth $200! I left since he had tended to the house that morning, and returned the next afternoon.
Over the next week I did what he asked, being careful not to disturb anything. His place was very neat, organised, and stylish but not faggy or overdone. For a landscaper I thought it to be rather elegant, nice taste. Not many pictures, except two shelves that showed him in photos at various leather gatherings with friends, one was at IML 1996 based on the banner in the background. In that pic he was in leather harness and chaps, hmmm but no hankies showing. He was the looker of the bunch, though again not a musclehead or anything.
His bedroom was simple, and I'm sure his closet was filled with goodies though I did not want to snoop (well I wanted to but knew it was rude). There was a dart board in the bathroom (!?!?) of all places, with the picture of some guy in the centre with hundreds of dart holes through it. Hmmm some ex I figured.
Well his flat didn't provide me a whole lot of information about the enigmatic guy. He was, in my opinion, a leather dude who lived comfortably and rather low key. On the second to last day of my housesitting, however, my insight changed dramatically. While watering the coleus on the window ledge over his computer, I bumped his computer mouse (the computer was whirring as it had been for the two week period). When the mouse moved, the monitor came to life and showed his desktop. Windows NT on a 450mHz PII. Nice system. The monitor was a 21" desk hog, and filled with about 30-40 icons.
Not meaning to snoop I merely looked at the various icons. There were the usual ones, IE4.0, Network, Netscape, Trash bin, etc. But he had several JPEG and text icons, and then WHHHAAAMMMM!!! it hit me like a ton of bricks, and totally out of left field!! One file icon was "beiscat.jpg," another was "scatdig.txt" and a third was KV_HEE~7.jpg"!! Not only did I know these files, I had them on my computer! Unless he happened to have these shit files on his computer by chance, this guy must be a scatboy like me! Oi!
Now keep in mind that the thought of scat associated with this guy had never once entered my mind! And that I was totally not expecting to "find" this stuff, it was truly serendipitous! I plunked down in his desk chair (water bucket splashing all over me) to take this all in. I looked over his desktop and saw 4 other icon that were shit related, based on their name, though I didn't know what they were. I was very tempted to start opening files and digging through his computer to learn more about his scatological interests and was about to start clicking away when I remembered he had a server running (something I know nothing about) and that I could very well mess things up badly. Also, on my computer, I can easily tell if someone has been accessing it, and I figured he might be able to tell if files has been opened, etc. I definitely should NOT snoop his computer, as much as I wanted to.
Well I tore out of his flat, half out of excitement, half out of embarrassment (but why!?), and half out of being blindsided (in a good way!) like that. Yes I know that makes 3 halves but give me a little poetic license here. I still pondered whether those files meant he was into shit, or if it was some coincidence. I decided the odds were overwhelmingly in my favour on this one, no one vanilla has that many shit files on their computer just sitting there! Suddenly I also realised this masculine, attractive guy was suddenly MUCH more appealing to me. I was truly in a zone at this point, and had a cold beer to calm me down.
But now what to do? Do I snoop through his condo to look for more incriminating evidence? Too rude and too risky. Do I just keep it secret that I know his fetish, leaving him ignorant of my shitsex lifestyle? Well I did the next best thing. I went to the scatdigest archives, since I saw one of the lists on his desktop. I looked through the previous 6 months of entries to see if I could possibly match one to this guy. I found 3 possibilities, but not enough details. It seemed I would have to somehow tell him I was also into shit. But how!? "Um, I noticed on your computer you have scat files, I'm into shit as well!" NO - that shows that I was snooping (even though I really wasn't!). "So, what kinds of sex you into?" Yeah right that's a cool line, like he'll just out and say 'I'm into shit and piss. 'Think! Think! There has to be a way!
I mulled it over that evening and thought of a great idea that might be fairly effective - and rather clever indeed! Sometimes being a genius has its perks. Doug returned from his trip Thursday, and knocked on my door later that evening. God my heart dropped into my rectum! I answered the door, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. I let him in, asked bullshit questions about his vacation, and told him I'd grab his key. As I got his key I explained that absolutely nothing worth mention happened at his flat or in the complex during his absence, though a bulb blew out in his living room floor lamp. As I handed Doug the keys, he took that cash out of his pocket and said he wanted me to take it for my trouble....
I said, "Really it was no problem at all, and I wont accept your money. But perhaps I could ask you for a return favour?" He said "Sure anything at all, but I don't do windows..." (thinking to myself, he DID say ANYTHING!!!) I responded "Well next weekend I have to go to my brothers for 5 days, do you think you could sit on my house and talk to my plants while I'm gone?" "No problem, just let me know the details I'll be glad to." With that, I showed him out (the phone was ringing) and said I'd hop over in a few days to give the key and stuff. O.K. so I had the hook and line, now I needed a sinker...I organised my condo on Thursday (I was leaving Friday), and strategically placed two plants next to the TV, which sits atop the VCR. In the VCR I put a tape (I put it into the slot as if it had been viewed and ejected but still sitting in the slot with the label out), that was labelled "Chris Rage #6". Next to the VCR I "clumsily left" two other ids, "Life of Service" and "Basic Training, Call Style." I walked over that night, and gave Doug the key and explained simply to water the plants, turn the TV on Saturday, and that's about it. I mentioned that the ferns next to the TV needed to be kept wet as to be sure not to miss watering those. Well, I thought that my chances were pretty good that not only would he see the tapes, but that he would know them by name (any shitguy worth his weight in shit knows those vids). It was my way of "telling him" without saying a word.
I left on my mini-trip, highly anxious. Those 5 days took forever to pass, and I eagerly awaited getting back. I wondered what his reaction would be, if any, and if he would even catch on in the first place. I got back on Tuesday, and went over to Doug's place (heart racing) when I heard him get home from work. I tapped his door, and he answered and let me in. I said "I hope everything went O.K.." He replied, "Everything went well .. . really well in fact..." But then his damn phone rang and he had to take the call (someone's sprinkler system seemed to be blowing up). I returned to my place wondering what he meant - if anything - by "really well." Hmmmmm...??? Well I didn't' see him all week, until Friday night when I saw him at the local late night leather bar (ok I knew he'd be there). I had a beer in hand, and walked over to his small group to say hi.
Doug didn't notice me until I subtly walked past him bumping him. He quickly introduced me to his friends, and mentioned that he didn't know I frequented that bar. I explained that it doesn't get going until late, when I'm usually too tired to endure crowds - but every now and again I try and avoid turning into a pumpkin and hit the place. His friends broke off, leaving us standing there. I honestly thought he looked at me differently - but knew all to well that might only be in my mind.
We moseyed over to a less trafficked area, and started chatting, our first 'real' conversation. He had had about 4 or 5 beers I guessed, to my 3. He was not at all drunk, but was rather expressive, much unlike I had seen him before. He thanked me again for housesitting, and I returned the thanks. There was a brief silence, and then he said, "you know, I dot know how to bring this up, so I will just be blunt; when I watered the plants next to your TV I noticed some porn videos by your VCR. . .with titles that not too many people probably have or want to have . . ." Acting surprised I said, "oh my god did I leave those out!?!?" Doug returned, "no don't worry, I'm into that kind of thing too..." Sinker!!! And with that the topic was out in the open! I said, "Well it's not like everyone knows it about me, but its a fetish I've been into a while and can't seem to shake." Doug said, "Same here, I'm actually glad I saw those videos, I guess we have a lot to talk about now." "Indeed we do, indeed we do" I replied.
We ended up going back to his place to have more beers. I couldn't tell if sex was in the air or not, it was all so hard to read. We shared how we each got into shitsex, and what we like about it. He showed me some of his videos, and asked if we could swap. Um, DUH! We kept drinking, and he popped one in his VCR. It was European, I hadn't heard of it before. I was now extremely horny and hard. I guess Doug and I, although not seeking to play, were heading in that direction.
The video was pretty hot, but the quality was so so and it kept jumping. He said he wanted to get a better dub of that film, but that it was hard to find. He started rubbing his dick under his jeans while we watched, and after a few minutes just lost his jeans revealing a tight jockstrap that was entirely too small to contain a largish cock and his pubic hair. He is the type that has hairy pecs, a trail of hair going to his navel, then a lot of hair below his navel leading to his crotch. He had probably shaved it all about 4 weeks ago, as it was about 1" long and very coarse. His dick was 7-8" cut, veiny, great head, and simply a hot dick to look at.
I took my cock out of my jeans and played with my PA. He was shocked that I have a PA, and said he had considered getting one sometime. We watched the vid, slowly losing clothes, and admiring each other becoming very horned up. I told him I had to piss and I could either use the john or . . . And with that his mouth swallowed my dick, and I pissed all that beer. He drank it all, while I rubbed the hair on his chest and in the small of his back. Doug was becoming a much different person that I had ever imagined him to be. And all this time he was next door!.
He muted the TV after finishing my piss, grabbed more beers and some bottles of poppers, and returned. His cock was oozing precum which I took care of for him. He kneeled in front of me, and lifted my legs over his shoulders. He dived at my hole, and locked his lips to my anus. His goatee felt so awesome against my ass, and his tongue was obviously not virgin to eating hole. God it felt great! And as he ate my ass, I lay back and pondered how I hardly knew this guy 3 weeks ago, and now he's plunging into my rectum with his tongue.
He pushed my legs back further, up to my chest, and continued burying his mouth and goatee into my ass. He began blowing air up my hole, something I'd never had done to me before. Since my gut was full with shit, that caused a lot of pressure. I considered pushing him back, and explaining that my ass was full and that he'd really better be into scat, etc. because it was going to get messy. But I decided that he had to know what he was getting into, and that I should simply 'go with the flow.'
He blew up my ass twice before I had to relieve the pressure, I farted back and he sucked it outta me like taking a huge drag on a filterless red. That made him more aggressive, and he dove back into my ass. His tongue had to be inside me because I felt that "loss of control" feeling that you get when your anus opens up. I lay back and took some poppers and just faded into the awesome feeling on uninhibition. After about 10 minutes I put my legs down and got up and went to the bathroom knowing he'd follow.
I turned the dart board around, I hated those eyes of his ex staring at me. I had him kneel in front of the john, and spread his knees. His ass was so awesome, lightly hairy, and a perfectly shaped pucker. I tasted it - very clean - something I knew I had to change. I took the tube of lube and lightly coated three fingers. He took some poppers, and I began digging up his ass with three fingers. He was VERY full with semi-firm shit. I ran my fingers between his rectal wall and the load of shit, slowly penetrating and withdrawing. I was buzzing, partially from the poppers and mostly from the smell of shit filling the bathroom. As I fingered him I turned the tub water on hot to fill the room with steam - to make a shit sauna if you will. I upgraded to four fingers, becoming more rough with his ass. He had no trouble taking it, though he grunted as I tried in vain to shove the shit further up his ass. There simply was no room in there. He began licking the toilet seat rim as I plunged into his ass. I wanted to fist him so bad, but didn't want to ruin that great shit just yet. I told him to stand up with my 4 fingers still up his gut. He got up and took amyl + ethyl hits. It was harder to work his ass when he stood because his rectum clamped down. Oh well I never refuse a challenge. I turned us around so I could sit on the can and work his ass from below. With my left hand I sodomized his shithole.
With my right I felt his strong legs, his coarse pubic hair, his firm stomach, and his cock. As I toyed his cock I pressed on his bladder with my left hand inside him. Of course he began pissing, and he sighed as he let it out. His piss was warm and slick, great beer piss. He was tweaking his own tits, enjoying the rectal massage, the beers, and the poppers. I removed my left hand from his ass and lube my cock with his shit. He saw that and kneeled in front of me, and started sucking my cock. He had not a care that it was shit- covered. It felt indescribable, seeing a goateed mouth slurping down my shitcock, but I had to push his head back so I wouldn't shoot my load. He said to me that he was hungry for shit, and if he couldn't suck my dick, he'd have to go elsewhere...
He lifted my legs again and nailed my ass. This time he used his fingers to try and open me up. He began whispering "push it out and feed me baby, feed me good" I loosened my gut and pushed out about 5-6" of firm shit. I stopped before it pinched off, and he started sucking the brown log as if it was my cock. He was 'going down' on my shit. It was difficult not to pinch off that shit, but to see him sucking it like it was his first cock was too good to ruin. He absolutely did not gag either - just kept sucking it. Then without warning he pulled the log out of my ass with his mouth and began swallowing it. Fuck!
I took some poppers as he chewed, and when the rush hit I pulled his head up to mine and began shitkissing him. We were both moaning a bit, sharing my shit. He kissed so hard and deep, and was able to throttle my ass with his hand while we kissed. He let go, and went back down to my ass. He asked for more, but I told him he'd have to dig it out of me if he really wanted it. He lubed his right hand and began reaching into my gut. He pulled out wads of shit, and spread the first two down his torso and hirsute stomach. The next piles of shit came from deeper within me, and he ate it all down with no problem - still no gagging!. I began pissing and he went after my cock for a piss chaser. By this point the room was steam-filled and smelling of total filth. The air still had amyl and ethyl circulating, so it was like a baseline rush the whole time. He was digging a lot of scat outta me, but I was able to keep producing more since I was about 2 days backed up. He leaned back and said "fuck I need this more often!"
We got into the shower since my legs were stiff from being pressed back for so long. He had several dildos in the tub, and a shower shot. I grabbed the medium dildo, lubed it with my shit, and plunged it into his colon. He buckled his knees, leaned his brown hands against the wall, and prepared himself for a serious fucking. By now I was so horned up I was getting rather dominant and aggressive. I drilled the cock into his ass as hard and fast as I could. It was totally shit-covered after the first 3 pumps. I drilled his gut that still hadn't been emptied of its hot shit yet. He took it so well, I could tell he had done this before. After 2 minutes or so the shit began oozing out as he could no longer keep it in whilst I raped his hole with that 10" dildo. I collected the shit as it dropped, and caked it into my groin. God is smelled awesome. I pulled the dildo out and started using my fist. He took my fist without any trouble, and just leaned against the wall like a bitch being fucked by a dog.
His shit was velvety smooth and perfect consistency. My fist and wrist were covered, and I tasted it to compare it to mine. No difference really, except not as firm as my shit. I took hold of the shower shot and inserted the probe about 5" up his hole and turned the valve. He held the water well, about a quart or so I guessed took it out and told him to pinch down. I lathered some shit onto my hardon and mounted him. I pressed my shitcock into his gut, and began fucking the bowel full of shit slop. The enema started spraying out on me, fuck it was great! He was farting and spewing enema slop all over my crotch and balls. I used some of it to lube and jerk his cock while I continued to fuck his pussy.
We both paused a moment to take poppers. I had to stop screwing him lest I cum. It's hard for me to control myself when I'm really turned on! He turned around and began filling my ass with the shower shot. I took as much as I could, maybe 30 seconds worth. He then knelt down and buried his mouth onto my hole again. It was obvious what he wanted. So I took one more popper hit, leaned my head way back, and released my rectum down his throat. If anyone can tell me what's hotter than blowing enema shit into a hot guy's mouth, I'd love to hear it, though I wont likely believe you!. He gulped it down like a sick pig, and filled my butt up again. I straddled his face again and pushed as hard as I could to get the deep sludge out. He was almost manic about devouring it all. Finally, when empty, I knew I was at the acme of my hormone surge, so I turned around and told him to open his mouth. I inserted my shit cock and within 3 pumps was unloading my cum down his gullet. When he tasted my load, he jerked his cock and started shooting onto my left foot, which he then got down and licked clean. I almost collapsed I was so spent. I had sought titbits so many times, and had just experienced the hottest shitsex I ever had without even "going out" to seek it.
We recovered (I turned the water to cold) and washed each other thoroughly. It was a very intimate cleaning off each other, like lovers might do. We spent at least 30 minutes bathing and suckling each other from head to toe. Finally we emerged the tub and cleaned the bathroom. For once I had no feelings of guilt, remorse, regret, or anything like that. It was as close to perfect nasty sex as I could think of at that time.
I went back to my flat, saying that I needed to reflect on the evening. We continue to play regularly in what is an ideal relationship. I don't want a lover, nor does he. We both just want hot nasty sex with no strings. And in that sense we are perfect, and continue to do new and different things each time. I'm sure glad I refused that $200! Oh, and one last thing . . . as I left that first night he said to me, "you know you really shouldn't leave video tapes like that laying about when you're gone." I replied, "yeah, well you shouldn't leave incriminating icons on your desktop either" and winked at him as I closed the door. He made the connection.