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I remember the day I explained my “thing” to Mark (a Millennial) while we were on break downstairs, in the smoking area. I told him point-blank that I liked to watch guys shitting. I liked shitting in front of other guys. It was the intimacy, I explained. What happened next was pretty interesting, a window into Mark's mind. It was certainly unexpected.

He started asking questions. “What do you like, diarrhea?” That was one of his questions. It seemed as if he was interested in the subject. Upon later reflection, it sounded like he was into diarrhea. He was not judgmental at all. He was nice, real, almost human, not his usual jackass self. Not guarded and fronting. In fact, he wanted details. That he cannot deny.

I told him I was definitely not into the heavy stuff. In fact, I called it “scat lite.” Not into touching it, much less the eating part. He was curious, I could tell. He asked more questions. I liked to see guys on the toilet, I told him. I wanted to see what was in the bowl. I liked to be watched.

Years later, again on break in the parking garage, I told Mark that Paul was flying to town to visit relatives. He would have some free time for “various activities,” I intimated strongly. I boldly stated to Mark that I had never been wiped before and was eagerly looking forward to Paul doing the deed.

I mentioned that Paul was in his early thirties. He spoke Spanish fluently. He worked as an international recruiter at a university in his hometown. I did not volunteer that Paul was 6’1”, handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes, blessed with a swimmer’s build. Who was into "it."

Mark stood there quietly, taking it all in, as if we were discussing the weather. He asked me if I was nervous about the visit and wanted to know more about we would do. He was genuinely concerned for my safety! I told him yes, that I was nervous, because I’d never done anything of the sort before. I was almost giddy. I had butterflies in my stomach as we calmly talked about a young, handsome dude coming over to poop and watch me poop. I mentioned the ass-wiping again.

I told him I would be careful. We would meet at the McDonalds across the street so I could get a gauge of him before inviting him inside my home. It was completely matter-of-fact and comfortable to be talking to Mark about my favorite fetish.

My disclosure never affected our work relationship. In fact, it opened up new opportunities. Mark shitted at work every day, twice a day, like clockwork. I knew his schedule.

I can't count the number of times Mark and I pooped together in our favorite restroom, the one with two stalls, and no Muzak. I loved his little red sneakers.

POSTSCRIPT

Mark and I worked in the same department; in fact, we sat side-by-side in a dual-cubicle arrangement long deemed obsolete by today's standards.

There were corridors and walls everywhere (think Office Space), which allowed for far more privacy than is seen in today's detested open plan. Nothing separted the two of us but an insubstantial divider between our workspaces.

So we saw when the other left his cubicle. When one heads in a certain direction ~ 8:15 a.m. every day, it doesn't take long for the other to figure out where he's going and what he's going to do in there.

That's how it started for me and Mark.

On the drive to work the following Monday, the only thing on my mind was the day's morning break. (I mentioned that it was in the smokers' area, in the parking garage outside. Neither of us smoked.)

There was a concrete wall just tall enough that it made for perfect leaning. It was a time for preening and boasting while continuously one-upping the other with insults, quick quips and witty repartee. None of that was on tap that Monday.

I wondered who would begin, who would open that door.

It was Mark.

I'm sure he was aware of just how nervous I was. Perhaps that's why he brought it up. It was his way of breaking the tension, since he undoubtedly knew I wanted to tell the story of Paul. He got it out of the way at the outset.

"How did the visit go on the weekend," he asked nonchalantly. Wow, I thought to myself. He's being nice. Here we go.

I said, "It went great. We had a really good time. I didn't have any idea of what he was gonna be like, but when I saw him, he smiled at me. Made me feel good."

"He was tall and good-looking," I told Mark. "Right away, we clicked. There was chemistry. I could tell he was really smart—and he wasn't crazy. I didn't have anything to worry about."

I said that he had gone first and it was all I wanted it to be. I didn't dare get graphic. We were in uncharted territory. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him off, for him to erect a wall.

"Next, it was my turn," I told him. "And, you know what we talked about? That happened, too," I said, with a laugh. "He was perfect, very gentle." I even mentioned that we jerked off, which was pushing it, I thought. I certainly didn't tell him that Paul's dick was the size of a banana.

Mark even asked me if I thought we might get together again. I couldn't believe it. "Yeah, that's a possibility. He does have family here."

And that was it. I was very happy with myself. I had recounted to Mark, my co-worker, the story of two guys, just having met, pooping in front of one another. And I was wiped for the first time.

I wondered what he was thinking, but, then again, Mark has always been a tough nut to crack. He seldom presents his true self. He's always hiding something. He once told me he was a true introvert (despite his penchant for being the life of every party, especially when alcohol is involved. It's an act, it is.)

He had also mentioned to me that he felt insecure at times, that he didn't measure up to his father and grandfather in terms of families and achievements. I think every man feels like a failure at one point or another in his life. No matter how much success we might achieve, or how many "things" we accumulate, we beat ourselves up over the small stuff. That's the sad fate of the American male.

As we walked back to our cubicles, we were quiet. I knew that we had just experienced "a moment." Talking comfortably about deep, dark secrets with someone you can trust is a very rare thing indeed.

Ted and Adam

In the towering glass facade of downtown's premier corporate headquarters, Ted and Adam navigated the daily grind of spreadsheets, meetings, and relentless deadlines. Both in their mid-20s, they were the epitome of urban fitness—lean, muscled frames honed from gym sessions and weekend hikes, with sharp jawlines and easy smiles that turned heads in the elevator. Ted, with his tousled dark hair and piercing blue eyes, worked in finance; Adam, blond and green-eyed, handled marketing. They barely knew each other beyond polite nods in the hallways, but fate—or perhaps the rhythms of their bodies—had a way of drawing them together in the most unexpected place: the men's restroom on the 15th floor.

The bathroom was a utilitarian expanse, with six stalls lined up like soldiers, separated by wafer-thin dividers that did little to muffle sounds. The gaps at the bottom were high enough to glimpse shadows and shoes, and the open tops allowed echoes to bounce freely. It was a secret symphony for those in the know, a chorus of grunts, explosive farts, and resonant plops as stressed executives sought relief. And for some, like Ted and Adam, it was more: a clandestine spot for a quick wank, the tension of the job melting away in rhythmic strokes amid the anonymity.

Adam loved the morning ritual. Arriving at 8:45 sharp, he'd slip into a stall, drop his slacks, and let his body take over. The first push was always a rush, his firm ass cheeks parting as a thick log emerged, splashing into the water with a deep, satisfying plop. He'd hear others joining in,  a neighboring stall erupting in a barrage of wet farts, another with labored grunts building to a crescendo. It turned him on, the raw masculinity of it all, and often his hand would wander to his hardening cock, stroking slowly as he imagined the men around him doing the same. A shitting asshole, whether confidently crackling a behemoth, or a succession of torpedos ejaculating with brown authority to the roaring cavalry charge of a relentless flow, he took pride and joy in not just indulging the sounds but being part of making them happen.

Ted was similar. his morning and post-lunch dumps were not just legendary in his own mind, he was an exceptional shitter, because he had a unique colon that was bigger and longer than the average man’s colon, which meant his shits were destined for Olympic Gold medals, because his shits were beyond impressive. Apart from his inner circle of friends and his gastroenterologist knowing, he revelled in the quiet joy and pride of his big shits. The  afternoon slump was often banished by the release of a second massive load, coils piling up until the bowl groaned. He'd listen intently, his ears perking at the telltale signs: a soft moan from the next stall, the faint slap of skin on skin. Knowing he wasn't alone in this guilty pleasure made his own sessions hotter, his erection throbbing as he jerked off to the soundtrack of male vulnerability.

Over weeks, their paths crossed more frequently. Mornings for Adam occasionally overlapped with Ted’s; but afternoons saw them side by side. They'd choose adjacent stalls, the thin divider vibrating with each other's efforts. Ted would hear Adam’s deep breaths, the crackle of a turd emerging, followed by explosive plops that echoed like thunder. Adam, in turn, was fascinated by Ted's sighs and grunts, as he seemed to be shitting never ending logs. Adam grew hard hearing the distinct crackling sound of a massive poo gorging its way out and it seemed to last forever. Adam tried to time his own logs so that Ted would hear his ass crackling, but his seemed swift in comparison. Together, their pooing symphony of release, and the subtle, rhythmic sounds was a mutual indulgence. Neither spoke, but the awareness grew like a silent bond forged in shit and secrecy.

Adam had longed to comment on Ted’s big shits, but feared it would make things awkward if it all went south. Afterall, Ted was more senior in the company and what if it was all just an imagined fantasy on his side?

As the months went by though, they began bumping into each other grabbing a coffee, lunch, pissing next to each other at the urinals and of course it seemed their guts became more in sync as they serendipitously would find themselves arriving at the same time for their regular shits.

One Friday afternoon, a few months later, the bathroom emptied except for them. Adam finished first, his final plop echoing triumphantly. As they emerged simultaneously, stalls creaking open, Adam caught Ted's eye - a flush on his cheeks, his fitted shirt clinging to his toned chest. Heart pounding, Adam mustered the courage at the sinks. "Hey man, that sounded like an awesome shit. I bet that felt great."

Ted froze, he felt his cock twitch with excitement. "Aah thanks man, yeah, good shits make for better moods too." His voice was husky, eyes lingering on Adam's reflection in the mirror. Ted chuckled and sheepishly replied: “and a sense of achievement and pride too right? Or maybe it’s just me”. Ted noticed Adam had pressed his pelvis up against the basin, to tame his growing erection. Adam turned to Ted and gave him a warm smile: “That makes two of us, and gave him a wink. We should drink to that, you heading out too after this? Ask Ted.

Adam’s eyes lit up as he tried to contain himself and sound normal. Umh, yea.. I mean no, I don’t have plans, what are you thinking? Ted felt it too, he replied with, let’s do O’Malley’s down in 7th Ave, you know it?

Adam had been there once before, it was the perfect Bar that offered the perfect atmosphere for good chats.

Shall we leave here in 15? Asked Ted as they were both leaving the bathroom? Yeah, said Adam. Sounds good, meet you there.

At the dimly lit bar downtown, they claimed a corner booth, the din of patrons masking their conversation. Beers flowed, loosening tongues. "You know," Adam confessed, our daily shits together at the office has become the best part of my day at the office. Ted felt a warm buzz ignite inside of him, it was his favourite part of the day too and he had the suspicion it was mutual between them. Same bud,  replied Ted. Shitting is a big part of my life both literally and by the amount of pleasure it brings. Ted went on to explain to Adam his unique colon and how he was gifted in how much he could shit. Adam, feeling intrigued by Ted sharing this intimate part about him, smiled boldly at him, shared what he had always suspected. Hearing you shit amazes me man. He admitted how he had over time decided to time the length he would hear Ted’s asshole crackling out a turd and nerdly confessed that 3 minutes was the longest he had heard him shitting what sounded like one continuous log. Ted was flattered but also aroused by this confession. He sheepishly announced, its why I flush often, because I clog the toilet too often and don’t want to be “that guy” who fucks up the office shitters. Ted felt it safe to say, its why I love taking a shit out in the open where I really get to appreciate my shit in all it’s glory.

Where do you live that you get to enjoy shits in the outdoors? Asked Adam. Ted described the cabin he lived out in the North side of the city that was close to the main river where you had mountain countryside against the backdrop of the city, the perfect oasis for the modern man who loved the city but also being out in nature.  His modern cabin was tucked away on a piece of land, just shy of 12 acres. It was declared sacred land and was owned by his forefathers and passed down in the family. Wow, Adam exclaimed in amazement. Lucky you to own that land! Wow, so how does it feel and how often do you do it? Asked Adam.

Morning shits? Like now in summer, it will be most mornings on the weekends mostly, unless the weather doesn’t allow it or I am running late. Sometimes it’s a shit at sunset. Adam was intrigued. He had never really taken a shit in nature. He had experimented before taking a shit on the floor and in a bucket, but longed to shit out in nature. The closest he had come to shitting outdoors was in an outhouse longdrop. This news was surprising to Ted, as it felt like second nature to him. You’ve never experienced the joy of an outdoor shit? Asked Ted? Adam just shook his head.

It was getting late and Ted still had a drive home. There had been a silence between them, as Ted sat thinking, finishing his beer. You got plans tomorrow Ted asked? Nah said Adam, just want to chill after this week. How about you? Ted spoke with confidence as he decided he wanted to invite Adam to his cabin. So you serious about wanting to experience a shit out in nature? Fuck yes, said Adam. Come stay the night at my place. We can drink more beers and chill out and see if your gut allows you to take a shit with me tomorrow outside? I got spare toothbrushes, extra towels and you can shower at my place. Adam, feeling dumbfounded felt honoured and lustfully aroused. He couldn’t believe Ted was inviting him to his place. Was a yearning fantasy about to become reality? Sure he replied with sheepish confidence.

They were ok to drive to his place in convoy, Adam was bursting with anticipation and lust. When they arrived at Ted’s place, Adam was amazed. What an epic spot. It felt rural yet, the city lights were just behind them. The place felt rugged, but clean and safe. Scents of cedar, pine and crisp mountain air filled his nostrils. Ted gave him a quick tour of the place.  The place felt warm and oozed masculinity.

The exterior had rugged hand-hewn cedar logs, a sturdy stone chimney, and a deep covered porch perfect for evenings by the fire pit. Inside, the open great room centered on a massive stone fireplace, surrounded by deep leather armchairs, a wide suede sofa, exposed espresso beams, and warm hardwood floors under an earthy wool rug. The compact kitchen featured rustic white washed cabinets and butcher-block counters, while the bedroom offered a tufted leather bed layered with plaid blankets and crisp linens. It all felt strong, timeless, and quietly stylish—never showy, just inviting.

The open-plan bedroom flowed seamlessly into an expansive, doorless en suite where a crisp white assertive rugged trough-style toilet boldly drew focus. Its exceptionally large, deep bowl built to handle anything with ease, set low and wide so you could sit comfortably with legs spread wide like a king on his throne. Adam could picture Ted naked on the toilet, and the thought of it, sparked lust. Positioned just a couple of feet from a floor-to-ceiling window, it faced outward toward the lush forest view, letting morning light and treetops greet you mid-session. Nearby, a raw, hand-carved rock basin sat heavy and elemental on a dark timber vanity, while the generous walk-in shower—framed only by glass on two sides—opened directly to sliding barn doors that, in summer, could be thrown wide to blur the line between indoors and the whispering pines, turning every rinse into an invigorating communion with nature.

Adam boldly remarked, I bet you have enjoyed plenty of epic shits here? Haha, oh fuck yes, my best seat in the house. Ted boasted with such confidence. But I still love shitting out in the open, you know, as nature intended it. But yeah its not always possible and in the winter, It’s the only sweet spot to take a shit. Love my custom made shitter. Wow, that is impressive thought Adam.

Another beer? Said Ted clapping his hands as he shimmied to towards the kitchen? Uh yeah sure thought Adam. He would need a few more beers to give him an impressive booze poo for the morning outdoor shit and he wanted to be sure he would have a big and urgent load that would hopefully override his nerves and allow him to perform. He was a big shitter too, but had never had a chance to be this intimate, he didn’t want to be clammed up tomorrow, he needed more reinforcement.

After some chilled music, and the brimming confidence inspired by another 3 beers, the feeling felt right. Adam had gone to take a piss and had lowered his pants and underwear, leaving his beautiful ass exposed. Ted had walked into the room, noticed his cute butt invitingly staring at him. I love the way you take a piss. Adam felt his cock becoming aroused. Ted was watching him and began slowly undressing in the room until he was in his underwear as he spoke further. I would love to watch you sitting comfortably on my toilet you know said Ted. I can’t stop thinking of you on this epic throne and what epic shits you must have taken here Adam said. Ted gave a naughty wink as he approached Adam closer and closer while he still stood in front of the toilet. With one hand Ted put his hand hungrily to Adam’s ass. That’s one fine ass you have there mister. Adam quivered with vulnerability and lust. He almost lost his balance in the turn, but Ted caught him and allowed him to glide onto the toilet. Adam sighed with comfort. Wow this feels like the most comfortable shitter I have ever sat on. Ted nodded while still drawing in closer and said, see I knew you would love it.

The sexual energy now electric, ignited with lust as Ted pushed Adam so his back would relax against the wall. Ted put his right leg over to straddle Adam on the toilet and they kissed passionately, both now on the toilet. It felt raw and invigorating and Adam was rock hard, his cock between Ted’s legs while Ted’s cock was raging in his black underwear, bursting to be released. Adam was losing his clothes rapidly as Ted helped ravish them off. But his legs and feet remained constricted, by his pants still around his ankles, shoes still tightly on. Ted slid sleekly backwards and commanded Adam to remain sitting on the throne. He undid his shoe laces and with lustful intent, made a point to do it slowly, taking in the smell of his socks, then his feet and allowing the sensuality of it all to build the sexual tension even further. Ted’s cock was still raging in his underwear, but he would take care of that later. He removed Adam’s work chinos, but grasped Adam’s underwear, while throwing the pants far behind them. Sniff it! Said Adam, I want to watch you sniff the scent of my junk. To which Ted, closing his eyes, brought Ted’s underwear to his face, burying his nose in the hot sweet musky scent of Adam’s underwear. Fuck that’s hot and wild. Ted paused, his cock now raging and beginning to leak pre cum from the hot intensity of Adam’s feet, body and underwear. His cock bounced as it released from its holding. His beautiful and thick uncut cock begging to be sucked. Adam and Ted were both well endowed. Adam wanted Ted’s cock in his mouth and he signalled him closer. He was in the perfect position. He leaned forward and took Ted’s cock to his face. First smelling the rich manly aroma, not overpowering, just the right kind of scent that drove Adam wild. He caressed his cock slowly with his tongue before really going for it. Ted was ecstatic and so turned on by Adam’s talented cock sucking, he nearly came, but stopped himself abruptly. Not yet he said, I will shoot my load in your mouth if we didn’t stop. Don’t you want that? Fuck yes, but I want to delight you some more first. Let’s take this to the bedroom he said.

They shifted quickly from the toilet to the bed, both fully naked and hungry for sex. Adam devoured Ted’s ass while Ted was blowing Adam. They didn’t get round to any fucking, because both blew their loads in unison, both exploding in shuddering climaxes. It was the most profound connection either had known

Saturday dawned, but with it a cosy storm. The clouds had rolled in to bring gentle thunder and a steady rainfall.  Adam stirred, appreciating the cabin's charm: wooden beams, a cozy kitchen, and through the windows, endless greenery against the misty grey skies. Over coffee on the porch, the familiar urge hit them both—bellies rumbling, asses clenching.

"Remember what we talked about last night?" Ted grinned, eyes sparkling. "That fantasy... an intimate bush dump."

Adam's cock stirred again. "Here? Now?"

Well no, not right now. My shitter will have to do, replied Ted. But…I mean after last night – and wow!! Just by the way, winked Ted, I want to experience the ultimate with you. We’ve been shitting next to each other for how long now at the office? Adam smiled looking down, responding warmly: Months I know. Like we discovered yesterday evening, we both passionate about shitting and I love that you can admit that. I thought I was the only one so crazy to that way.

Nah man, it’s not crazy at all said Ted.

What might be crazy is that… Adam paused.

What? Asked Ted intrigued.

This may be too crazy because we only just got naked last night and… its maybe too early.

Ted extended his leg towards Adam, who was sitting towards his right. He gave Adam a intentional peek of his dick through his thin silky boxers that he knew Adam ‘s eyes were drawn to. Ted oozed sex appeal, lying back casually, with just his thin boxers on, cock now starting to bulge in the crotch area. His olive skin body was toned perfection.

Ted grabbed his own cock, cupping it with his right hand. He said:  I’m wanking way too much solo on the shitter these days and sex has felt so vanilla this past year. I want more kink and intensity. I’m bored fucking women and they don’t get my fantasy of a blumpkin or hot fuck on the shitter. I am finding myself way more into men and if I am being honest, I want to get dirty with you and last night drove me wild the way you ate my ass out and blew my cock and fuck… your cock was the best and hottest cock I have ever sucked. Fuck you even bigger than me and that drives me wild! And the best part is… Do you know what the fucking best is?

Adam was hanging on his words… I think I may know, but I want to hear it.

Ted exclaimed, that you love shitting as much as I do! Fuck that turns me on.

Adam was blown away by Ted’s confession. I feel the same bro. Shitting, wanking, fucking, and getting fucked are the ultimate.

There was a calming yet sexually charged silence. Ted downed his last bit of coffee and so did Adam. You feeling it yet? Ted asked. Yeah I can feel something brewing…

Adam followed Ted inside towards the bathroom.

Was Ted nervous? Or was it the mounting pressure of an impending shit and him trying to exercise sphincter control? Ted was doing the dance and had a grimace in his face. How urgent is yours he asked Adam? I’m still good. Said Adam

Aaah thank God, ok well I’m going first then, I really need to shit. As his words came out, so Ted dropped his sleeper shorts to reveal his beautiful naked arse towards Adam. He was swift and began making his way to the toilet.

Adam found it incredibly sexy that Ted’s perfectly toned bubble butt that oozed such sex appeal as he walked, was about to put on a show for him. Ted took proud ownership of the toilet, legs spread wide and confidently, his cock, already semi hard, hung forward naturally, the shaft thickening just enough to arc gently downward, while his balls dangled low and loose, swaying freely without clinging tight to his scrotum. It all positioned perfectly inside the rim of the classic open-front horseshoe seat.

His perched his feet onto the squat stool to raise his legs up. He definitely was a serious shitter who understood the benefit of simulating a squat for a better smoother release. His muscular smooth legs and thighs spread perfectly, was a sight of pure masculine sexiness. Now settled comfortably on the shitter, he reached down and lifted his cock upward with a casual grip, revealing his beautiful bubble butt nestled comfortably into the seat's contours—the rounded cheeks spreading just right in a perfect, inverted heart shape that cradled him securely. His asshole puckered invitingly in the ideal intended position, centered and relaxed, primed for a smooth release. What an epic view.

Ted’s asshole immediately began crowning widely, as an assertively large turd was already poking its way out. You ready said Ted? Fuck yes said Adam, his cock raging from the anticipation and thrill of what he was about to witness…

Here goes… Ted gently tipped his head back, eyes closed and let his asshole do the work. Ted’s anus was a true marvel and his shit - thick, smooth, and incredibly long, with a wonderful fibrous texture like a thick rope, its surface a rich mixture of similar shades of dark brown, veined subtly with earthy tones. It slid out with a soft rustling sound like silk against skin, followed by a gentle ppffffft as air escaped around it. As the end pinched off with a quiet finality, his uncircumcised cock—held upwards and to the side to give Adam an unobstructed view of his flexing asshole—gave a half salute, twitching upward in a subtle nod of release.

It coiled lazily into the toilet, no loud plops, but a soft shhhlup as it gently touched down, grazing the side of the bowl as it came to rest up against it. As he continued shitting,  loop after loop formed a perfect spiral, the length seeming endless as his body worked it free. A quiet moan escaped his lips, not dramatic but profoundly satisfying, a low "mmh" that vibrated through him like a wave of relief washing over his fit frame.

Adam stood transfixed in front of the toilet, transfixed on Ted’s asshole, his eyes wide with bedazzled arousal, the intimacy of the moment pulling him in like a magnet. He watched as the succession continued: another big, long one followed seamlessly, firm and unyielding, its smooth fibrous texture gleaming like coiled ropes in those deep brown hues, rustling out with that same subtle whisper, punctuated by sporadic ppfffffts that filled the air with a raw, earthy scent. As this one pinched off, Ted's cock nodded again, a half salute that sent a thrill through Adam's veins. Ted's colon gifted yet more, the pieces coiling in a mesmerizing, very long succession, each one thicker than the last, his body handling it with effortless confidence. Midway through, as another robust length eased out and pinched free—prompting yet another twitchy nod from his cock—a few drops of piss escaped the tip, dripping warmly against his inner thigh, the unexpected trickle adding to the raunchy allure without a hint of mess.

Adam felt a surge of amazement at the sheer scale, intrigued by the raunchiness unfolding before him—the lust in Ted's quiet sighs, the bold vulnerability of it all—his own pulse quickening, drawn deeper into the erotic haze of the scene. Ted let out another soft, mind-blowingly content groan, his relief palpable yet understated, as the final coil settled, leaving them both in a charged silence. In the aftermath, Adam's gaze lingered on Ted's anus, surprisingly clean and not as soiled as he would have imagined after that long anal workout—smooth, pinkish-brown, and only lightly kissed with residue, a testament to the effortless confidence of the act.

Adam understood now why Ted needed a custom made toilet. Even with its extended size and large landing area, it was full and no normal toilet would be able to handle this amount of shit without being completely clogged.

Fuuuck man! That was amazing! Adam stood up, his cock raging with an erection as he approached Ted closer. Ted took Adam’s cock in his right hand, gripping it confidently and giving it a stroke to reveal that his cock was wet from pre cum. Ted took Adam’s cock in his mouth and slowly sucked his cock while staring intently into Adam’s eyes. Adam felt waves of pleasure cascading in his body… Adam abruptly had to withdraw, announcing, I really have to shit now too…..

Please be my guest Ted gestured as he stood up, Ted proceeded to flush. The niagra fall flush surprisingly handled Ted’s massive poo pile with relative ease, leaving the toilet scarred with epic skidmarks. Adam took to Ted’s toilet, loving the warm seat and feeling a sense of ultimate honour. Ted said, now your turn.

Adam could feel the pressure in his asshole and as he positioned himself to give Ted a show, his asshole momentarily went shy. But it wasn’t long because the urge was stronger and so he relented and let his asshole do it’s job. A thick long turd made an urgent exit, sending a distinct plop of a heavy turd crash landing In the water below. Aarrgh!!! Fuck… that felt good, said Adam softly, feeling an overwhelming wave approaching….

Nice said Ted, that was an epic landing….

Oh fuck, shit its coming…. Exclaimed Adam, a bit worried that this would be a shit spatter.

It wasn’t fortunately but what did follow was a messy torrent of shit – loud, strong flowing and primal. Shame, disgust and lust danced together as Adam’s asshole gave a very different performance to Ted’s.

Ted was equally intrigued as Adam was, fascinated and honoured to be witnessing such intense intimacy. The look between them as their eyes met mid shit, gave Adam the assurance that Ted was loving this, and so, his cock growing stiffer, he let go of any shame and pushed with pride, his man hole gorging with confidence.

Finally it stopped and Adam seemed to have held his breathe the hold time, let out a sigh of pure relief… Fuck that was intense!

Adam noticed Ted with a very stiff boner, giving him the confidence that Ted enjoyed the show! Fuck yeah bro, that was epic!!!

The toilet was quite full of a mushy mess, but seemed like a giant had had an average shit simply because of the size of the toilet. A regular toilet would have been filled well above the water line, but this toilet had space for more than double the capacity.

Ted then did what Adam would never have expected. He said, I want to shit on your shit, let me hop on, I’v got round two already waiting.

My god, really? Said Adam surprised.

Oh yeah said Ted, I mean it when I said, I have a very large colon.

As they swapped seats again, Ted was back on the toilet and was going to shit his load onto Adam’s below.

Ted got himself comfortable, but this time just leaned forward as he waited for the next load to unleash.

Adam, not sure what to do next, let his lust lead the way and he went down on his knees in front of Ted. Ted’s cock was still hard and Adam wanted more than ever, to blow Ted while he was shitting.

Do you mind asked Adam….

Without Ted having much of a chance to answer, Adam took his cock into his mouth and began rhythmically sucking Ted’s beautiful uncut cock, while using his other hand to gently massage his foreskin up and down as he tantilised the tip of his cock.

Shame danced with desire as Ted, having never experienced this before, trusted Adam and let himself go too.

Adam could not believe how Ted’s asshole just kept giving and giving, crackle after crackle the turds kept coming. Ted was starting to relax more and lean into the sensation… as he approached orgasm, it was like his asshole shifted into 5 gear to ramp up for the climax.

Jets of warm cum erupted in Adam’s mouth as a now torrent of shit was exploding out of Ted’s asshole…. Ted jolting from pure ecstasy, his cock slipping out of Adam’s mouth, while he was still coming, as a stream of cum landed on Adam’s ear, shoulder and chest. Adam felt the warm cum trickle down his back as he attempted to continue swallowing the mouth full of cum in his mouth.

Spent and still quivering slightly from the aftermath. Ted regained himself again properly on the toilet. Another full load, this time their shit mixed in together in a heaped pile beneath.

Adam stood up, while Ted remained seated on the toilet. Ted widened his legs and sat back for them to admire the load below. This was the ultimate intimacy. No more needed to be said. Adam leaned down and slowly kissed Ted. Ted tasting the reminants of his own cum.

I want you now to cum inside of me said Ted.

Adam still close to Ted’s mouth as they were kissing, said, I don’t have more shit in my tank like you bro…

That’s not a problem, I meant, I want your cock inside my asshole please! I want to feel that monster inside of me.. and I want you to fuck me on the shitter.

They were both standing by this point, hands around each other’s asses. Ted turned Adam so his back faced the toilet so he could take his seat. Adam almost flung back onto the toilet. Ted taking assertive charge.

Asher likes to retell the story of how he met Max. They were postgrads at McCombs School of Business at the University of Texas, working toward a Master of Management in Hospitality.

Max’s dream of owning a restaurant was years in the making. With his connections and networking abilities, he obtained financing to build on his chosen site in Austin. Asher was tasked to design his dream kitchen.

After years of hard work, determination, judicious risk-taking and a bit of luck, they were the duo behind Zaffiro, a bistro located in Austin’s urban core. It’s known for northern Italian cuisine, with an emphasis on freshwater fish and filled pastas. Zaffiro was awarded one Michelin star in 2024, the first year of Michelin eligibility in Texas.

Max is General Manager, overseeing business operations and the front of the house. Asher is Executive Chef, jefe of the back of the house.

The restaurant business is difficult, as attested by anyone who ever worked in one. With the Michelin star came crowds, media coverage and national recognition. Neither man rested on laurels. Their goals were to innovate and improve. An additional star would be icing on the cake.

Spouses and children were on the horizon for now.

“Hey Max, I’ve been thinking.”

“I get worried when you say that, Ash.”

“We’ve been on the job fifty hours a week since 2023. We have a good team. The place is running like clockwork. How about a vacation? Somewhere with no crowds. Outdoors. How does a rainforest sound?”

“I like it. You’ve done research? Pray tell.”

“There’s a couple with two cabins in a small compound south of the National Park in San José, Costa Rica, near Uvita. From the looks of it, it’s fucking paradise. There’s whale-watching, diving, kayaking, waterfalls, sea caves, hiking trails.

“I have a layout of the compound. You should know it’s not The White Lotus. It’s not a luxury resort. There’s no fine dining, no spa, no influencers. You can hike fifteen minutes and see a waterfall. You in?”

Max answered, “You’re reading my mind. I’ve been thinking about how much I want to get out of this town. What else?”

“I checked the best times to visit Costa Rica. ‘Green season’ is coming up. Yeah, it’s rainy, but the crowds are lower, and it doesn’t rain all day. The rainforest is lush.”

“Sounds like a plan, Ash. Let’s carve out two weeks. I just finished quarterlies, so no upcoming reporting deadlines. Get on it!”

“I’m ahead of you, Max. I have their contact info. I checked availability and found open days. Once I get confirmation, I’ll notify the staff. No need for an all-hands. I’ll send details to the leads when I have them.”

“Tell me about the meals situation, if there is one,” Max continued.

“The hosts opened the place 10 years ago. Good reviews, too. There’s a communal area for dining, coffee, drinks, snacks. They provide breakfast and will pack a lunch if we order in advance. Dinner we’re on our own, but guess what. Uvita has a food scene, lots of restaurants, casual, upscale, the works.”

“Fucking sold, Ash!”

Rodrigo and Isabella were amiable and gracious hosts. Everything was in order. The accommodations and location were spectacular. Since it was late afternoon, they decided to drop off their belongings and find a restaurant.

“Hey Ash, you mind if we turn in early tonight? I’m tired after that five-hour flight. I want to get an early start tomorrow.”

“I’m with you, Max. I have some ideas for stuff we can do. I’ll run ‘em by you later.”

The guys met their hosts for Desayuno Típico, the typical Costa Rican breakfast, a simple meal found in homes around the country. Starters included fresh fruit—papaya, pineapple and cantaloupe—served with strong coffee and fresh-squeezed juices. The heart of the breakfast is Gallo Pinto, a mixture of rice and black beans sautéed with onions, red bell peppers, garlic and cilantro. The secret ingredient is Salsa Lizano, a slightly sweet, slightly spicy, brown vegetable-based sauce.

There were eggs (huevos), fried plantains, and natilla, a thin, slightly sour Costa Rican cream, typically dolloped over the Gallo Pinto or the eggs. Handmade corn tortillas round out the meal.

Near the end of the big breakfast, Asher whispered to Max, “I need to shit.” Max replied, “So do I. Let’s go.”

Max led the way down the path to the facilities. The “ceiling” was made of tree branches intertwined with vines. Max took the toilet in the back. A second toilet was directly in front of it at a right angle.

“Well, this’ll be a new experience, Ash. We’re pooping in front of one another, and everything that entails. You OK with this, as if there were any other choice.”

“I guess I was right when I said this isn’t The White Lotus,” Asher answered, as he dropped his shorts and sat down. He felt nervous anticipation.

Max farted twice. Asher let a long, airy poot.

Seconds later, Asher’s asshole spread wide. Numerous wet and sticky turds splashed in the water below. It was loud and dramatic.

“I’d say you got it all out, Ash.”

Max then loosed a steady stream of crackling mush into the bowl with force. It lasted almost four seconds.

“Wow, dude, that was epic,” Asher commented. “There is an upside,” he continued. “With no doors, no ceiling, I don’t have to smell your shit.”

“You forget I’m downwind from you.”

“Whatever, dude. I’m about to wipe my ass now. See these trash bins? The plumbing can’t handle toilet paper. Used paper goes in the bins. Otherwise, you’ll be the one telling our hosts you clogged the toilet.”

“Will do, Ash.”

Asher lifted his ass cheek, then ran the toilet paper up his crack. He checked it, saw it was very dirty, then tossed it into the bin. He wiped four more times.

Max, silent, took it all in, low-key. It was the first time he’d seen a man taking a shit. And another first that a man watched him perform his most intimate act. Max was accustomed to being in charge, not vulnerable.

As he sat there, a big shit load floating underneath him, his mind raced. He looked at his business partner. Asher was tall and well-built, with a textbook bubble butt. Seeing his ass from the side only accentuated its roundness and heft. He even had a butt dimple. His thighs were muscular and sculpted, with a wisp of blond hair. Even his calves were chiseled.

Max was intrigued. And curious. The look of concentration on Asher’s face. His farts. How he held his breath, then tightened his stomach when pushing. The sound of his chunky shit hitting the water. The look of relief. The smell. The smile at the end. Max, who always played the strait-laced boss, envied Asher’s easygoing playfulness.

Then there was the way Asher wiped his ass. He didn’t stand up, like he did. He wasn’t a front wiper either. He was a folder, and not a “one and done” guy. No courtesy-flush. Being a numbers man, he gave Asher an “A” in shitting.

His thoughts manifested in the part of his body that had a mind of its own—his penis, which was growing, thickening, and leaking profusely. Asher could see between his legs if he looked in his direction, so he covered his crotch discreetly with his left hand, pushing his penis down as if pissing. He didn’t care if Asher saw his thick pubic hair.

Max rose from the toilet, positioned his ass toward Asher, bent over slightly, then dug in. He was reluctant to reveal his penis to Asher just yet.

“So, you stand up to wipe. That’s a new one.” Asher looked in Max’s bowl. “Would it be a faux pas for the Executive Chef to comment on the General Manager’s impressive shit load? Would that be taken as a compliment?” Asher again displaying his laid-back sense of humor, Max thought.

Max, eager to soften his image, and push some boundaries, laughed, “Not at all. Get a good look. But I expect reciprocation. Stand up and let me see what you’ve done, Chef.”

Asher, taken aback slightly, decided to roll with it. He could see that the trip was already influencing Max, who desperately needed to chill.

Asher exuded confidence. He decided to give Max what he appeared to want: A show.

He dropped his shorts on the floor and rose from the toilet, facing Max head on, giving him full view of the bowl. Nothing was left to the imagination.

Asher’s poise extended to his penis size. He was a member of the “Average Guy’s Club.” He was cut. The rub was that he was a grower, not a shower. In some situations, it was downright small. But when erect, it was slightly above average. Upsides were girth and his oversize mushroom head. His pubic bush, a shade or two darker than his blond hair, was lightly trimmed.

“You want to look at my shit? Can you see it from there or do you want to come over here to get a better look?”

“I can see it just fine, Ash. I don’t know how much you usually poop, but this one is a proper bowl-filler,” Max said.

“It’s just another morning, Max. I eat lots of fruit and veggies. All that fiber makes big loads.

“We done here?” Asher asked.

“Yeah, I’m finished. A warm shower sounds good right now. You ready?”

“Sure thing.”

Asher saw Max on the bench, still clothed. Sensing he was nervous, Asher turned on the charm, cracked a joke, then asked, “Are you ready to do this,” pointing to the single shower.

“If you are, dude.”

They stripped and stood under the warm water together. Asher was comfortable in the space. But he felt he needed to break the ice. What better way than a compliment?

“Wow, Max, I always thought you were hung, and damn, those big low-hangers!”

“I get no complaints, Ash.”

“You’re a shower, Max. I’m a grower myself.”

Max returned the compliment. “Nice glutes. You work on them?”

“Yeah, I do a lot of squats.”

“There must be some genes involved. You get some stares,” Max asked. He was finally letting go. Asher was pleased.

“From men and women. I’m used to it.”

After a few minutes, Asher turned to Max.

“Speaking of growing, I haven’t busted a nut in four days. You mind if I jerk off?”

Max blushed and laughed, adding, “Go ahead. Just aim it away from me!”

With Max’s blessing, Asher started masturbating. Soon, his dick was erect. He liked to edge, to prolong the pleasure. He glanced at Max occasionally, noticing he was watching as he continued stroking.

Asher looked at Max, a silent signal to “get ready,” then at Max’s big dick. He closed his eyes, turned away, then came. He counted five spurts.

“Fuck man, that was good,” he said to Max.

“I bet you sleep well tonight,” Max replied.

It was Max’s turn to ask a favor.

“Hey Ash, I have a request before we finish up. There’s something my girlfriend does for me that I can’t physically do myself.”

“What is it, Max?”

“She washes my back. Would you consider taking this washcloth and wash my back? Give it some effort. You won’t hurt me. It feels good to be touched. You know I’m not gay.”

“Sure, I’ll do you if you promise to do me. You want me to wash your ass?”

“Go ahead.”

“OK, turn around for me.” Asher soaped up the washcloth, then started scrubbing Max’s back, beginning with his broad shoulders, working his way down. He placed his left hand on Max’s shoulder for support, then scrubbed some more.

He had an idea. He used his left hand to separate Max’s fleshy ass cheeks. “Bend over slightly, please.” Max complied. Asher used his soapy fingers to cleanse Max’s asshole.

“You all right,” Asher asked.

“Yes. Thanks for indulging me.”

“Any time, partner. You ready to do me?”

“Sure thing. You want me to do your butt like you did mine?”

“Only if you feel comfortable, Max.”

Max started at the bottom. He lathered his hands with a bar of soap, then guided the soap up and down Asher’s deep ass crack until he was satisfied it was clean. He gave Asher’s back a good scrubbing.

“All those squats are really paying off, Ash!”

“Hey Max, If I knew all I had to do to get you to unwind was show you my big ass, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

Max, a smile on his face, had nothing to say.

“Let’s get dressed, Max. I have a whole day planned. There’s active time and relax time.”

Max said, “I’m over making any decisions on this trip. Some days I want to sit on the front porch with my Kindle. Order in lunch. Have strong drinks while we watch the sun set over the Pacific.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I want the ‘chill Max’ when we get back to Austin.”

“That’s my intention, Ash. While we’re talking openly, I have another request. Feel free to turn me down.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I enjoyed pooping with you today. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s not about sex. It’s about a friend I can trust.

“If you agree, let’s meet in that little room every morning for the rest of the trip. Tomorrow let’s switch toilets. I want you to see me the way I saw you a few minutes ago. Am I nuts? Too out there for you?”

“I’ll do it for you, Max. I have a freaky side, too, if you’re up for some exploration.”

“Let’s keep this between us, Ash.”

“Don’t worry, Max. What happens in Costa Rica stays in Costa Rica.”

Here's video "Number 2"!!!

More of the same as last time, no scat shown, just relax and watch me poop.

Hello all! Here's a compilation video of me and my giant belly, taking huge poops lol. No scat is shown, camera POV is me on the pot only. (You do, however hear every sound my body makes 😅)

I love casual vids of boys on the toilet doing their thing, but I don't see many compilations like this. "Be the change you want to see in the world", I guess haha.

THE OUTHOUSE

Charlie began to stir in his sleeping bag early the next morning. It took a few seconds for him to remember where he was. He looked over and saw Bo, still fast asleep. He decided to get up and start the coffee, putting on his sweats and sandals.

He climbed down from the loft and walked to the area where they had set up their equipment, next to a card table and a couple of camp chairs, taking care not to make too much noise. He started the single-burner propane stove he had brought, then filled the old-style, blue-enamel percolator with ground coffee and bottled water.

That done, he went outside to take a piss. It was 6:30 a.m., about a half-hour before sunrise. He could see a faint light in the east. The weather was cool, around 50°, with a slight breeze. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

When he reentered the barn, he saw Bo moving around. He must have smelled the coffee brewing. Let Bo rest, he thought. He started breakfast.

Charlie reached into the Yeti, searching for the eggs and bacon. He knew there was a half-cantaloupe somewhere. Ah, there it is. Bo had a double-burner stove, which he placed beside the brewing coffee. Next, he found the pans he needed for the eggs and bacon. He added six eggs to a plastic bowl, whipping them up for scrambled eggs. Found the butter.

Next were paper plates, napkins and plasticware. He peeled off eight slices of bacon, halved each, then placed them into the larger pan. He lit the stove. He’d get the eggs going just about the time the bacon was done. He hoped Bo liked his bacon soft. Charlie never ordered bacon in a restaurant, because, inevitably, it was served so well done and crispy that it crumbled into pieces when touched.

He placed the carton of half-and-half, along with a few packets of sugar, next to the coffee pot and mugs. While the bacon was cooking, he took a knife to the cantaloupe. He cut up half of the half for serving, placing the rest back in the cooler for the next morning. Everything was shaping up nicely. Bo would be surprised at how good breakfast was going to be.

Charlie remembered when he was a kid, staying overnight at his favorite grandparents’ house. Waking up to the smell of bacon cooking was one of his fondest memories he had of his grandmother, who was a scratch cook and a classic Southern woman who never measured anything. One of her secrets was bacon grease. Every Southern woman in those days saved bacon grease, usually stored in a Folgers can kept near the stove. No woman worth her salt strained the grease. Ham hocks also added flavor to fresh vegetables and red beans (pintos).

Her garden was filled with growing vegetables—she was an accomplished gardener. Every year she would do what Southerners called “put up” the veggies (canned them) for fall and winter. In her time, grocery stores stocked only seasonal fresh vegetables, unlike today, when a dizzying array of fruits and vegetables are shipped in from around the world. Unfortunately, today's store-bought tomatoes are still inferior to home-grown varieties.

In winter, she sometimes asked Charlie to go out to “the shop” to pick a few jars of whatever he liked. New potatoes. Snap beans. Squash. Chow-chow (pickled relish). Okra, maybe. He wasn’t too keen on boiled okra. He liked it fried. She occasionally served meatless meals in summertime, which always included fresh corn on the cob and sliced tomatoes in the large spread. This was years before anyone ever heard of “vegetarian,” much less, “vegan.” She was ahead of her time.

Bo was up now. He said, “Wow, you got bacon cooking, and I can smell coffee. You’re a man after my own heart!”

“Back in a minute. Gotta take a piss.”

It was time to start the eggs. Charlie had some cheese for the eggs, and a small jar of salsa, ready to go.

When Bo returned, seeing the whole setup, he said, “You sure know your way around a camp.” Charlie commented that from an early age, he and his older sister had been brought up learning how to cook. He was afraid that the art of cooking was lost on the younger generations, both the Millennials and Gen Z. Their idea of dinner was popping something into a microwave, or ordering from DoorDash.

Bo poured coffee, offering some to Charlie. He sat down on one of the chairs, watching Charlie cook the eggs, adding a bit of cheese at the end, while they were still runny. “I can make them over-easy tomorrow if you want. We have a dozen left in the Yeti.”

“I’ll take ‘em any way you wanna serve ‘em, Charlie.”

Everything was ready. Charlie portioned the eggs on the paper plates, then added some bacon he had wrapped in paper towels to keep warm. Last were chunks of sweet cantaloupe. It looked pretty good, if he did say so himself. Time to dig in.

It wasn’t hard to see that Bo enjoyed his breakfast. He ate every bit of what was on the paper plate. “That was some good stuff there, Charlie. You can cook for me anytime,” he said, as he leaned back on the chair and took another sip of coffee. Charlie was pleasantly surprised when Bo offered to clean up. There wasn’t that much to do besides wash the pans. He used paper towels to wipe the grease from the bacon pan before washing it. The rest was tossed into the garbage bag.

They talked about what was on the agenda for the day. Bo wanted to take a hike on the property, stopping at the big tank. Charlie brought his camera, so he wanted to check out the wildflowers and any wildlife roaming the property.

While Bo was talking, Charlie felt his stomach rumbling. He knew he had to poop, and soon. He didn’t want to hold off, so he said to Bo, “Hey man, I need to head to the outhouse. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Bo, chuckling, replied, “You read my mind, dude. I gotta drop a big load myself. You mind if I join you? We can break in the new two-holer!”

Charlie had pooped next to Bo in public restrooms a few times, and he had seen Bo on the toilet many times at both of their places. Bo had even seen him shitting before, including that time when Bo “accidentally” walked in while Charlie was wiping his ass. But he’d not been that intimate with Bo before. What the hell, he thought.

“Sure man, let’s go.”

They headed outside, toward the outhouse. Bo opened the door, taking the seat on the right. “That’s you, Charlie,” he said, pointing to the left. Bo pulled down his shorts, sat down, and farted immediately, and loudly. From experience, Charlie knew Bo to be a shameless shitter. Charlie sat down and adjusted his ass, the butterflies now accompanying the rumbles. He let out a little squeaker.

Charlie glanced at Bo sitting there, not even a foot away. He noticed that Bo’s butt covered more area on the seat than his did. Bo was bigger and taller than he, that was true.

“Let’s break in this bitch,” Bo said, laughing again.

Bo let loose first. Charlie heard what sounded like a torrent of mushy turds fly out of Bo’s ass, making thudding noises as the pieces hit the lined pit below. It was a good six feet to the bottom. He stopped for a second, farted twice, then expelled another wave, this one not as dramatic as the first.

Charlie had held it in long enough. He relaxed his asshole and eased out the load. He surprised himself when it just kept coming; they did have a big dinner last night. Multiple farts accompanied the shit pieces. He could hear them hitting the bottom of the pit in rapid thuds, just like Bo's poop.

They were done for the moment.

Then, Charlie realized he had more. With a loud fart, a sizeable mass blew out of his ass like a projectile, startling Bo.

“Wow, dude, that was loud. You really had to go, didn’t you,” Bo said, grinning as he noticed a sheepish look on Charlie’s face. “No need to be embarrassed, Charlie, we all have to poop. You just took it to another level.”

Charlie did feel a bit embarrassed, but he realized he had nothing to be ashamed of. Here he was, pooping with his best bud, legs almost touching. Bo had fucked him the night before. The level of intimacy between them had just skyrocketed.

Besides, he was thinking that this episode was just another way of expanding their friendship. He thought, “If you can’t feel safe and comfortable shitting with your BFF, the relationship isn’t as strong as you thought it was.”

He said to Bo, “I was just trying to keep up with you, dude. That last bit might have put me over the top. I think I beat you!”

Bo laughed out loud. “I like your style, Charlie!”

It was time to wipe, upping the ante even more.

Bo said to Charlie, “OK, dude, you ready to see me wipe my ass?” He was smiling as he said it. Bo really wanted to make this a special occasion, Charlie thought. Why not go with it?

“Yeah, I’m just sorry you put me over here. You’re not gonna be able to see me lift up. Was that your plan all along?”

“Hell, yeah. What did you think? All right, don’t you do anything yet. I want all your attention on my ass right here.”

“OK, let me see what ya got.” Charlie was all in. He hadn’t really explored this subject. It was new to him, but he was beginning to get the hang of it. It did intrigue him that his best friend had just asked him to watch him wipe his ass. He couldn’t believe he just thought that. As long as it doesn’t get extreme, he was fine with it, he thought. Just two guys, having a good time.

Charlie knew that since Bo was both bigger and stronger, his ass was larger as well. He watched as Bo took the roll of toilet paper, then twirled the paper around his right hand. He wondered how much Bo would use. A good amount, he noticed, but not too much.

Then, Bo lifted his thick butt cheek high off the seat, showing off, Charlie thought. He watched intently as Bo dug the paper into his crack, wiping front to back. He was relieved that Bo did not offer to show him the results of the first wipe. He repeated the process four more times, checking the paper after the third wipe. Finally, he finished up by retrieving one of the wet wipes from the container next to the two rolls of toilet paper, then digging it up his crack one last time.

“All right, Charlie, I’m done. What did you think?”

“I’ll say that was a first for me, but it wasn’t too bad. In fact, it was all right. You surprised?”

“Not at all, man. I was hoping you'd like it,” Bo said. “Now, it’s your turn.”

“OK, I’m ready. I don’t know how much you’re going to see.”

“I have an idea. Hold up a minute.”

Bo rose from the toilet seat and stood directly in front of Charlie. He was wearing nothing but a t-shirt, his penis and balls about six inches away from Charlie’s face. “While I’m here, why don’t you suck on it for a few minutes,” Bo said. “Cup my balls, too, please.”

Charlie thought that that was a lot to take in. He didn’t know how to react. The visual of a guy on the toilet sucking the dick of another guy, his best friend, with whom he had just pooped, was crazy. Again, he decided to go with it.

“OK, Bo, you the man,” Charlie said as he grasped Bo’s flaccid penis. Even soft, it was impressive. He knew it wouldn’t take long for it to grow to full-size. Even the balls were big. He went to work. He knew what to do.

“Mmm, Charlie, that feels good. Get my balls, yeah.” Charlie started getting excited, too, his heart rate increasing, as he continued to blow Bo, who was liking it. All this exertion suddenly manifested itself in his gut. There was more shit left.

He stopped momentarily to say to Bo, “I’ve never done this before. How am I doing?” Bo answered, “This is kinda nuts, isn’t it? You’re all right, Charlie, for going along with all this stuff these last few days.”

As Bo talked Charlie pushed again. A small load eased from his hole. The rest. Then, one of those rare, deep farts. Keep pushing as long as it stays open. The most satisfying fart of all.

Bo laughed out loud. He couldn’t believe Charlie blowing him while shitting at the same time. “I love it, man. You win. Three parts!”

Bo dropped to his knees, then moved in position to see Charlie’s right ass cheek. “Go ahead now. I can see everything.” Charlie was taken aback, but he wanted to please Bo.

Charlie pulled off a length of toilet paper, scrunched it in his hand, then lifted up his right butt cheek. He dug in for the first wipe. Imagine his surprise when Bo said, “Show me.” Charlie did not expect that request. He said nothing. He showed the very dirty toilet paper to Bo, who said, “Keep going. I want to see every wipe.”

Charlie obliged. He wiped three more times, but he was still not clean. Bo had another idea. “Charlie, stand up and hand me those wipes.” Charlie stood up, as did Bo, who said, “Charlie, turn around and prop your right leg up on that part between the seats.” Charlie did so. Bo pulled out two wipes, then used one to finish the job on Charlie.

Bo had never really “looked” at Charlie’s butt. It was a bit like his philosophy on the penis. Bo considered their parts to be utilitarian. He didn’t classify them in terms of how “good” they looked. He knew his butt was bigger than Charlie’s, and he also knew that there’s an awful lot of gay men who like a big ass on a man. Not clownishly large, no, but thick and beefy nonetheless. With some heft, definitely.

But, as he stood there, about to use the second wipe on his best bud’s butt crack, he could see the appeal of a smaller, round ass. The bubble-butt aspect is what did it for him.

He gave Charlie’s relatively long ass crack the going-over, realizing for the first time that everything back there was smooth, even the tight, pink rosebud. The whole package was downright attractive.

He slapped it, saying, "Nice butt, Charlie! You ever been rimmed?"

I couldn’t believe my luck! The man I had been fantasising about, the man whose cock I had longed to suck and whose ass I yearned to rim was giving me avant guard access. We decided to choose one of the bathrooms tucked away on the 4th floor in a passage that was walled up entirely and pretty sound proof so that we could play safely. It was fortunately unoccupied, so we chose the last stall, and spacious were these stalls which helped when there was going to be two of us in there.

 He was wearing a smooth well tailored grey pants that accentuated his bubble butt and bulging manhood, with a crisp white long sleeve shirt and a fragrance that really personified his sexual attraction and presence. His dark brown shoes were also emaculate and perfectly polished. I was wearing a dark grey tailored pants with a navy blue shirt and black formal work shoes.

I was brimming with excitement and my heart was beating hard in my chest. I had butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. I wondered how he was feeling, was he also adrenalin pumped and ready for action?

We were in the stall now and he closed the door quickly… I somehow maintained a cool composed posture with all this excitement going on inside of me. He said, let’s do this together. I would also like to watch you in action too. Sure I replied (oh you definitely going to see me in action, I thought). You go first I said. Thanks he replied. I was hoping to go first. I have a big load waiting.

He unbuckled his belt and started unding the button of his trowsers. He had White Calvin Klein briefs beneath those grey pants which really accentuated his huge bulge. I couldn’t wait to see it.

I watched intently as he slowly lowered his pants and briefs together while looking down. I was transfixed by his beautiful hanging cock and muscular legs and watched him as he took his seat on the white porcelain throne and our eyes met.

He adjust his legs and spread them apart. I’m ready to unload he said. I moved in closer to him and knelt down in front of him so that I was now between his legs and almost eye level with his cock. He lifted his white shirt and took his penis gently and lifted it above him, holding it so that I could get a view of the show he was going to put on for me.

Legs spread apart and his anus ready for release he asked: You ready?? I nodded. He closed his eyes gently and I kept my eyes fixed on his hole between his legs. His anus flexed… It was preparing for the big release.

I was soon welcomed to a huge thick turd, poking its head out of his hole and enjoyed the music of this turd as it crackled its way gloriously out of his hole. It was 1 big massive turd that birthed its way easily out of his manly hole. Even though the light was quite dark in the bowl, I could still make out this magnificent piece of work. It slid neatly into the water trap below and because it was so large, it rose above the water line and significant part of the turd rested up against the front side of the toilet. He grunted and sighed with manly relief.

WOW, I said, that was fucking hot and amazing!. He had his head tilted up and his eyes still closed and said softly, I’m not done yet. There is more.

I watched his anus and it flexed some more. His sphincter was not done yet and he was going to feed this hungry toilet with his massive turds. After what could have been about a minute, came the sound of more crackling and his anus stretched open yet again to reveal another impressive turd making its grand entrance. This one was almost as big as the first one and was also still attached and kept coming as it touched the water. This large turd also landed neatly next to its big brother and stood above the water line, only a few centimetres shy of its brother.

His penis was semi hard and was growing into a proper stiff boner. My cock was pulsating. Let’s make this easier he said suddenly. He bent down to untie his shoes, while still seated on the toilet seat and I moved back to give him space to remove his shoes. He stood up and removed his pants and underwear to free his ankles and hung his pants and underwear neatly on a hook against the stall wall. He then gestured to me that it was now my turn to go on the shitter.

I happily obliged and undid my bulging trousers to reveal my hard throbbing cock. I had already a film of pre cum lining the head of my cock. I sat down on the warm toilet seat and now had a nice view of his bare tight ass and his cock that was also hard and standing up. He was well endowed, thick, and beautiful.

I could feel I would need to go, but how would I match his 2 big and impressive turds he had just unleashed?? He watched me and I sat back so that my back touched the seat. Legs spread apart, I closed my eyes and just stroked my cock and tried to focus on my anus.

I gave a purposeful push and only let out a fart that echoed in the toilet bowl, I felt quite vulnerable being in this position with a hot man staring at me and waiting for me to release my load.  I fortunately did not disappoint. I felt a sudden cramp and my bowels doing what they do best and before I knew it, I felt a large turd pressing at the escape and knew, ok, go ahead and release this one.

I gave a gentle push and my anus opened wide to release a nice thick turd that grazed the back of the toilet bowl with a nice big skid mark as it slid out nice and long. We were going to overfeed the toilet with a nice healthy load of turds.

I sat a while longer, waiting for more pooing action, but nothing else came. The elusive stranger signalled to me that I get off, because he had more waiting to release. I stood up, and he shifted back onto the seat again and said, watch this: His legs spread confidently apart, he held his erect penis up towards his belly and his anus triumphantly released a second wave of turds. It was much smaller and smoother turds that came out this time. A brilliant succession of 7 average sized turds plonked their way into the toilet like little torpedos. He released a fart at the end and just sighed with deep relief. He lifted his ass from the seat and we both peaked into the bowel. What a great load. The toilet was full of shit, a proud load it was too.

He leaned back and closed his eyes to take in the bliss of this glorious shit. He then gripped his cock firmly with his left hand and began stroking his cock…. I sat back and watched in amazement. This was a wet dream coming true and I couldn’t believe it….  I would have loved to have deep throated that beautiful cock of his, but he seemed intent on just stroking himself only (for now). I didn’t mind.

I watched him pleasure himself and although I was raging with lust and longing to suck his gorgeous cock, I sat back and watched.. It was wonderful to watch him just wanking and observing his pure male sex appeal. He kept his eyes mostly closed while he stroked and stroked and stroked that hard uncut cock of his. He was almost about to come. His pelvis tensed, his hand grip grew stronger, his face changed and the tension erupted in loads!

While it was not intended, he blew a thick strand of his cum all over my face and some got on my pants too. He shot another two thick strands that erupted forcefully from his cock and it projected onto the toilet seat between his legs and the last strand on the floor just below.

God that felt good. I needed that.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to shoot my load all over you. Here is some toilet paper to wipe it off. I took it, but didn’t wipe up. I wanted his cum to stay on my face. I was dumbstruck for a few moments, completely blown away by this very hot encounter, I couldn’t bring myself to snap out of it. He got up from the seat., reached for his underwear and pants and got dressed quickly, he put on his shoes and said, I will go next door and clean myself up. Should I flush he asked? I signalled no with my head and said, I will finish off.

Great he said, thanks for a great experience, let’s do this again. I smiled and said, you are so welcome.

He slipped in next door and by the sound of it, wiped his ass and cleaned his cock off. Flushed the toilet and exited the stall. He washed up and then left. I was the only one left in the bathroom and I was still seated on the floor.

I traced the cum on my face with my finger. It was still slightly warm and thick. I brought my finger to my mouth and tasted it. It was sweet and manly at the same time. I traced my finger again and sucked on it, imaging I was sucking his cock. The cum that was on the toilet seat was now dripping down the side of the toilet. I leant forward and put my tongue against the cold porcelain and traced my tongue up the side to get it all in. It was so good.

Not many guys used the decrepit wooden outhouse by the swamp at the far end of the summer camp at Dark Lake. It looked rotten as the fallen tree trunks submerged in the murky swamp water, the ones fungi grew on and turtles crowded to bask in the sun. The outhouse had four holes but two lacked seats and were split and seemed like they were ready to cave in.

 Dan, blond and muscular, green-eyed and long-limbed and horny, felt the slight urge to move his bowels and the pressing one to jack off. In the cool stinking interior, he could do both. Pulling open the wobbly door and stepping into the gloom, he all but jumped when he saw that one seat was occupied–by another tall, 18-year-old counselor, Kyle Daggett. “Sorry!”

 "Hey.”

 Kyle was one of the hottest guys at camp, six feet tall, a couple of inches beyond Dan, with coal-black hair, close-set cobalt-blue eyes, and an arrogant jawline. Lean and lithe, he’d been a prep school track star, hard-bodied, with a thick, kielbasa of a cock and an ass so perfect Dan couldn’t imagine it cutting a fart , let alone dropping a log.

 “I can go.”

“No way, man. Stay. Have a seat.” Kyle indicated the one next to him, inches away from his bare thigh. Kyle was wearing a red St. Tropez T-shirt, and his Madras shorts and boxers were pushed to his ankles. He squeezed his legs together, censoring his privates, but his bush was exposed in all its glory, as were his barbell-hard calves. Kyle grinned. “Really.”

Maybe the dingy light would camouflage Dan’s blushing. Unbuckling his belt, he yanked down his dungarees and white cotton briefs in one quick gesture. As he did, he realized Kyle would have a close-up view of his bare bottom and deep crack, both dusted with wiry, golden hair.

Dan settled on the toilet seat, accidentally brushing his right knee against Kyle’s left. He drew it away quickly. “Close quarters.”

 “It’s kind of peaceful.”

It reeked, but the loose boards in the walls and roof allowed fresh air and sunlight to enter the structure.

Kyle pulled on one buttock, as if to open his crack wider. His face turning red, he cut a dry, windy fart. “Sorry…” Then he laughed. “Your turn, bro.”

Dan didn’t dare glance at Kyle, too afraid he’d fixate on his cock. He himself was hunching over, hiding his own rapidly bobbing hard-on.

“Let’s hear it, Dan.”

Truthfully, camp had constipated Dan: the gross food, the new schedule, and yeah, the lack of privacy. He hadn’t had a BM in two miserable days. He grunted, his face hot with embarrassment.

“Nothing?”

“I’m trying, hey.” 

“Shitting a brick?”

“A fucking brick wall.” Dan snickered.

Kyle shifted, so that he inched closer to Dan and the hairs on their thighs touched. “I gotta let one.” Kyle pushed, and pushed his thigh directly against Dan’s, all the while staring at Dan with his cobalt-blue eyes. “Man. It’s coming.” Kyle cut a loud, wet series of farts and then a heavy turd smacked onto the oozy pile of toilet paper and worse below. “Ten pounds lighter!”

Dan dared say it. “Congratulations.” He clapped Kyle on his track-hard shoulder, then, with even more daring, left his hand, warm and trembling, on the shoulder a moment too long.

Kyle stood, exposing his amazing bare bottom, square, hard, with a tight crack. Kyle peered into the hole, where both boys saw the massive coil of Kyle’s soft grunt. “You’re next.” Kyle’s cock dangled, low but semi-erect, interested.

 Dan was sporting a full-fledged hard-on. “I’m…bound up.”

“Come on, we had beans for lunch.” Kyle re-claimed his seat, closer to Dan’s, so that their bare bottoms pressed together. Kyle circled his muscular arm around Dan’s shoulder. “You can do it, brother.” He cupped his hand around Dan’s knee. Dan was leaking pre-cum the way the antique camp pump leaked water. “Do grunts. Come on, gassyboy.”

Dan obeyed his bro. He strained, staring into Kyle’s teasing eyes. He pushed, and a cannonball of a turd popped out.

“I want a log. I want a fucking redwood.”

Dan could smell Kyle’s turd and sweat and the spearmint gum he chewed to disguise his smoking.

 “Do grunts.”

Slowly, inch-by-inch, a cement-like turd, a regular pylon, came out, out, out. “Fuck…”

“Later,” Kyle said. “When the coast is clear. Dirty bums.”

 At last, the grunt hit the expanse of slop. Dan almost cried but sighed and gasped instead.

“Let me see.” Gently, Kyle lifted Dan off the toilet seat and the boys inspected Dan’s huge log of a BM. “Fucking world record.”

Kyle took Dan’s hips in his strong hands, grinding their boners together, before they even wiped their cracks. Dan never knew which boy came first; they both erupted, soaking their cocks, balls, bushes, and thighs in a streaming flood of stickiness.

Kyle knelt, picked Dan up in his arms. “Hey. Grunt-brother.” Snickering, he bit at his neck.

Dan could have come all over again. Wow, it was incredible, all-out amazing. It was like their assholes were married.

(Might be a bit grosser than the previous 2 parts)

Mr Brown

You stood there, hand on the entrance door handle, terrified to walk inside again, getting horrible flashbacks to your interview. Once you’d gotten home that day, it’d taken a good hour to even get close to washing the lingering stench off you. After this had happened, you’d told your stepdad that you didn’t want to go back. However, he hadn’t listened and drove you here anyway, no matter how much you begged him not to. But you were here now, and didn’t seem to have any other option. So, you took a deep breath of clean air and headed inside.