Paul's Show

By Piggietail

Published on Apr 7, 2024

Gay

The following story is purely fictional. Please read it legally - be of a legal age and in a legal place. Any similarity in plot or resemblance to a real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Please do not copy and/or publish this story without expressed permission from the author.

Thanks :)

Please be aware that an archive of this size needs your donations to be kept alive and offer the pleasure of reading to you and many others.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Pauls-show 2

The least I would have expected was that Paul turned to me that offensive with his obsession for holding shit. Not even that he would turn to me at all. As it seems, he had observed me for nearly two years until he decided that I was the right man for a filthy performance.

Now the cork was out of the bottle, so to speak, and I asked me whether this would be a singular incident or something that will be continued.

We met again at one of the periodical meetings for the organisation of the cultural centre. He appeared late and found a free chair at the table opposite to me. During the discussions he gave me some smiles and one time he also rubbed his belly while sending me a broad grin over the table. As he emptied out about a week ago, his belly was sunk in and very suitable for his extremely skinny body.

After the meeting had a short talk.

  • 'U'r okay?'

  • 'Yeah,' Paul smiled, 'had a lot of fun with the stuff on my phone' he grabbed his chrotch involuntarily as his penis obviously started do grow, 'I'm jacking off to this stuff three times a day, 'I must be cautious not to miss my performance with Betsy...'

  • 'maybe she get's jealous over your phone'

  • 'she'll never understand what I am doing -- now will she understand what we've done.'

  • 'that's obvious for me'

  • 'Anyway, this was the hottest thing I have ever done!'

  • 'There's always time to do hot things like this again,' I smiled.

  • 'I'm really thinking about this -- but so far I am far from another show,' he patted his flat belly, 'I haven't eaten much since I met the pizzas at your studio.'

  • 'really?'

  • 'I've been feeling full all days -- haven't been hungry at all'

  • 'well, I can wait...'

  • 'you should wait -- I will do a journey with Betsy for the next three weeks'

  • 'where are you going?'

  • 'we'll be visiting France and Spain and will end up in Portugal at her parents place.'

  • 'sounds like some great times upcoming'

  • 'yeah, her folks have a house close to the Atlantic down there'

  • 'so, there's not much to see for me the next three weeks...'

  • 'Yeah! - but I will bring you some souvenirs home from there,' he sported his evil grin, 'so far I can only offer you this,' His face turned to a concentrated expression, then he let out a fart. Just loud enough to hear for me. A slight, earthy and somehow manly odour wafted through the air, 'keep this as a memory until I return, he smiled and turned to go home. He swung his behind like some kind of samba dancer as he went off -- that was a new one...

So I prepared for three weeks of routine works without extra thrills. Whatever a photographer with a small studio is facing in his daily life. At least I had the 'landscape'-shows of Pauls asscrack to edit, when there was no other work to do.

Three days after Paul left I received a message from him on my phone, 'Paris is great but food is soo expensive over here. Betsy is glad that the hostel features a free breakfast consisting of a milk-coffee and one croissant. I keep them as a souvenir for you and am glad that it is not more :)'

...seems that the bastard tries to have me participating in his food intake. I replied: 'Hey fancy influencer, next time there will even be photos of your food, okay :)'

It was only another four days later when he followed my proposal -- somehow. My phone vibrated for the following message: 'we're in Marseille right now with Betsys uncle. He invited us to a restaurant where they do excellent fish dishes. Here they are!' The attached photo showed his reflection in a bathroom mirror with his t-shirt pulled up exposing his naked belly which was apparently still quite flat.

  • 'cant't wait to see more pics of your storage compartment ;)'

I continued received messages at irregular intervals they all had an individual style of their own. Considering that he normally didn't text me at all or only in case of emergency this kind of conversation has must have more meaning than just some texting between friends.

Four days later: 'we're in Barcelona and will stay for three days at one of Betsys Aunts -- here's a sound from the city :)' he attached a recording of him ripping a long fart -- apparently recorded directly at his hole.

  • 'your phone must be quite smelly by now!'

  • 'nope! Everything's dry over here' (thumbs up)

He continued his teasing two days later, 'Barcelona is great -- we've been at the 'Sagrada Familia' -- I've never seen such a phantastic building! - btw: Betsys aunt got a beautiful bathroom :)'

Incoming with this text was a film he recorded obviously in this bathroom. Paul was lying on his back and had rolled up so that his knees were next to his head and his bare bum was pointing up in the air. He was filming his butt and smiling face. He was flexing/winking with his beautiful asshole until it opened up and sucked in air then he left it stay open for some seconds until pushing out the air with a farty noise. The lighting was not ideal but it seemed that his ass was still empty.

  • 'thanks for actual status messages ;)'

Some days later: 'finally we're in Portugal at the sea -- we will be staying for one week until we return home :)'

  • 'have fun in the sun!'

Obviously he had much more fun than me -- so much that I didn't receive a message until the last day of their stay, 'this evening we hop on the night train to Germany -- I collected a lot of souvenirs for you :)' The attached photo showed him naked as he took a photo of his reflection in profile in the bathroom mirror. He developed a nice tan except the white line of his bath-trunk and his long, curly hair had bleached. The most remarkable detail in this picture was his obviously bloated belly which he additionally stretched out by intention, as it seemed.

  • 'nice -- can't wait to see you -- seems that you got a lot of presents for me :)'

It was two days later when he appeared in my studio at closing time. The benefits of his holidays were clearly visible at first sight. His sun-tanned skin and now nearly blond curls gave him a big sexy boost.

He gave one of his broad smiles as he approached.

  • 'hey, had a nice holiday?' I greeted him, 'you look phantastic!'

  • 'yeah, it was a great time over there. - I hope I wasn't annoying you with my messages...'

  • 'ah, no, not at all -- they were some fun during my life routine over here. - I wouldn't mind to receive stuff like this more often!'

  • 'well, now, the original is back!' he grinned and rubbed his now quite visible and cute belly.

  • 'so, you just came over to give me a shit-show?'

  • 'not really, you know,' he hestitated, 'to be franc -- I heard you know a bit about electronics...?'

  • 'ab bit, yes -- why do you ask?'

  • 'my washing machine is on strike.'

  • 'what's the matter with it?'

  • 'the lights are blinking but it does really nothing'

  • 'hmh -- never heard of this -- but if you like, I may come over to your place and bring my repair tools with me.'

  • 'that would be great,' he smiled luckily, 'shall I wait until you close?'

  • 'I don't think that the ten minutes left to open will change a lot -- give me a minute to look for the tools.'

I got a toolbox with stuff for basic electronic repair duties at my studio. My equipment is quite old and especially the flashes often need some help staying alive.

Some minutes later we were our way to his place. He shared a small flat with another guy who was not present at the moment.

  • 'Joe is at his parents till the weekend,' Paul announced, 'and Betsy is out with a friend.'

  • 'you're signalising for some special reason that we are all alone and won't be disturbed?' I said smiling as I set off my toolbox.

  • 'uhm, just in case tat you're wondering whether we may speak openly with each other.'

  • 'well, at first we should take a look at the washing machine, shouldn't we?'

  • 'Ah, yeah -- it's over here in the kitchen'

  • 'it was the typical kitchen you may find in every flat shared by young men.

A lot of unwashed dishes in the sink, an overfloating waste bin and stuff of all kind lying around. And now, a washing machine pretending to be a zombie.

  • 'let's see...' I switched on the machine and after some seconds literally all lights began blinking synchronously.

  • 'that's a funny one...'

  • 'can you repair it?'

  • 'let's see..' I googled a bit about the symptoms for this specific type of machine and found several hints that pointed the to switching power supply of the unit. It seemed that a capacitor in this machines power unit was known for not being very reliable.

We pulled the machine out of von under the worktop and took off the lid. Then the search for the power supply began -- I found the power unit, but had a bit of a hassle to get it out. The guys who constructed this thing did their best to make a repair complicated. In the end I had the power supply out and open on the table.

  • 'this looks complicated,' Paul summed up, 'can you find the broken part?'

  • 'I need to find the smoothing capacitor -- let's see...'

Luckily the capacitor had left some signs on his way into death. It had spilled out some electrolyte on the board which was marking quite visible who died here.

I soldered it out of the circuit board and looked through my toolbox if I have a part, suitable for replacement.

We were lucky. I had a capacitor of the same value which I normally hold in stock for my flashes. It was valuable for much higher voltages than the ones one would expect here, but the detail won't make a difference in the washing machine. I soldered it in the board and put all parts back together at their place.

While I did so, Paul was sitting on the other side of the table and telling me about his holidays and was watching what I did on the electronic parts.

  • 'do you think that It will be back okay by now?' he asked as I reconnected the wiring.

  • 'when we're lucky, this is the only part that is broken -- we should take a test-wash before screwing on the lid and pushing it back.'

  • 'that's great' Paul ran to his room, 'I got a lot of laundry from my holidays!' he returned with an arm full of textiles and stuffed them into the machine. Meanwhile I had reconnected it back to power and switched it on. It took two seconds until the signs and lights lid as they normally should do.

  • 'well, choose your program.'

Paul set the washing program of his desire. 'and now we have to watch the washing machine whole the time?'

  • 'well, kind off...'

  • 'the program runs two hours.'

  • 'I will take this time for you and your washing machine.'

  • 'maybe we order a pizza and chat a bit?'

  • 'sure, why not -- I am a bit hungry by now.'

We ordered at the pizza delivery we already found out being the best. This time Pauls appetite was a lot smaller than the time before.'

  • 'only one normal sized pizza?' I kidded, 'what's the matter with you?'

  • 'I not too hungry,' he replied, 'you know, Betsys aunt made a kind of mega dinner for our parting evening -- Paella and lots of other stuff and she insisted that I should eat from all of this.'

  • 'seems that she tried to force you on the toilet.'

  • 'if she tried this, she failed for sure,' Paul pulled up his shirt and presented his cute swollen belly, 'see, this is still far from the belly I had when I did the show for you.'

  • 'seems already quite bloated for me...'

  • 'I feel comfortable with it.' Paul said casually, 'I think it will still last some weeks until I'm ready for you.'

  • 'may I ask you some personal questions?'

  • 'sure, why not?'

  • 'when did you start holding back your shit?'

  • 'I think I'm doing so since I can remember -- maybe till I was three or four years old?'

  • 'what do you remember doing back then?'

  • 'as a kid it was fun for me holding my shit -- getting it real big and hard was exiting for me -- especially when I managed to push out my load in front of other kids.'

  • 'you already did shows for others when you were a kid?'

  • 'I've always been teased for being skinny. That made me feel inferior.'

  • 'Kids can be cruel if they want to.'

  • 'Yeah, but this was kind of my revenge -- every time when I felt that I had a biggie in my butt I forced other kids in a competition about who can make the biggest shit.'

  • 'sounds like fun for me'

  • 'yeah, and I always won!'

  • 'really?'

  • 'yeah, the big kids always had much smaller shits than me,' he smiled, 'as you could imagine I always tried to hold my shit in as long as possible because I never knew when I needed it for a competition.'

  • 'and so you did these competitions through whole your childhood?'

  • 'not really, but when I came into school it turned really serious. The toilets in school were awful and dirty. So I never went there, even when I had a real serious urge.'

  • 'this is heard often from school-time...'

  • 'I think so -- but when I returned home the urge often had disappeared and didn't return until next day in school. So It happened that I didn't go shitting for whole the week.'

  • 'that's impressive'

  • 'and when the weekend offered enough fascination I even forgot about shitting then.'

  • 'and you began a new week already filled up?

  • 'quite like this -- when something captivates me or distracts my thoughts, I totally forget about my body functions -- and my body forgets also.'

  • 'so you came to your talent early...'

  • 'I can't tell about how many days or weeks I could hold in back then but I know that I was shitting turds that were quite too wide to fit for the piping when I was in my forth year of school.'

  • 'that's when you were about ten years old'

  • 'yeah, about this age,' Paul agreed.'Wait, I got a school picture of me from back then. He ran in in his room and returned with a small album in which he showed me a group of kids arranged for a group photo. 'This is me,' he pointed on a skinny, pale boy with curly hair on the photo.

  • 'I would have never found out with your help,'

  • 'look at that belly,'

Indeed, the small boy on the picture sported a remarkable bloated belly under his slightly too small shirt. Together with the extremely skinny arms and legs he appeared somehow funny.

  • 'were they still cheating on you back then?'

  • 'well some tried but they stopped doing so very fast because I was the master of toilet.'

  • 'what???'

  • 'By that time my shits turned out not to fit in the pipes of any toilet. This is how I overcame my disgust for the school toilets because there I had no worries when they did not fit in the pipes there.'

  • 'oh!'

  • 'I just left it lying there and told the others where I left my turd. So they went there looking and worshipping me.'

  • 'so you were some kind of celebrity?'

  • 'yeah, kind of -- sometimes they even waited in front of the stall to be the first to see it,' Paul smiled in remembrance.

  • 'and you left your hometown to get rid of your fans stalking you at public toilets?'

  • 'not really,' he laughed, 'when puberty hit us everybody had personal problems. That moved me a bit out of focus.'

  • 'Oh, I would have been even more interested in you if being one of your classmates'

  • 'I'm sure you would. But me and my classmates found enough fascination in their dicks and I became interested in girls and the miracle, how to attract one?'

  • 'oh, I forgot...'

  • 'oh, I have another funny picture for a connaisseur like you...' He fiddled through the album pages, 'this is me at the age of sixteen...'

He turned the album to me and pointed on a photo in which an young, very high shot, skinny guy was leaning on a wall smiling sheepishly in the camera.

  • 'you were really skinny back then -- except maybe your belly'

  • 'I weighted only 90 pounds and was almost as high as now -- and you can see where my weight concentrated,' Paul giggled.

The Paul on the picture was so boney that his shoulder bones and rib bones were visible through under the t-shirt. But the belly was unnaturally swollen.

  • 'that belly is even bigger than the one you carried in my studio.'

  • 'don't forget, how skinny I am on this picture.'

  • 'maybe that's why...'

  • 'but my shits were very big by then.'

  • 'I bet they were.'

  • 'I always made sure that nobody witnessed me going or coming from the toilets because I didn't want to talk about my toilet habits to anyone.

  • 'you were no longer proud of what you could do.

  • 'of course I was proud!' insisted Paul, 'but I feared that others were talking about me like I was a freak or something abnormal.'

  • 'oh!'

  • 'so I left my shits behind secretly and gave them something to wonder about.'

  • 'but, there were already school-pals who did know about your shitting talent.'

  • 'I forgot to mention that we moved by the time I was thirteen. I visited a new school by then and nobody over there knew about my secret.

  • 'ah, okay, - how big were your shits by then?

  • 'Oh they were as wide as the one I shat on your table but most of the time one solid sausage of this width and long as my forearm.'

  • 'wow!'

  • 'often they didn't fit in the bowl so that one end stuck out of it.'

  • 'and they never found out about you?'

  • 'no, not at all -- they always thought that this must come from one of the very heavy boys.'

  • 'ahh, I see...'

  • 'Was always great fun hearing them argue about who might be the originator of the gigantic leftovers,' he smiled.

Ringing from the door interrupted our conversation -- the pizza service had arrived. We put the boxes on the kitchen table and began eating -- this time a lot slower than the last time.

Btw: the washing machine appeared to be fine with the new capacitor -- only half an hour left until it would be finished with the test load.

We continued our talk while we munched on our food.

  • 'did it ever hurt you to shit your load out?'

  • 'thinking back I must say that it never hurt in a way that I remember it being uncomfortable. - you know, of course it hurts when my asshole is stretched but it is kind of a satisfying feeling. I never feared going to the toilet when my guts were ready to burst -- My fear was more that I might fail holding in.'

  • 'and? Did you fail doing so?'

  • 'not really -- I had moments when my shit began pushing out of my hole even as I tried to keep my hole shut but I always had the chance to sit down and wait until the urge disappeared.'

  • 'and so you oly got another pair of ruined underpants'

  • 'yeah, I produced quite impressive skid-marks when my hole pressing against the fabric -- but I never got caught with this, Paul smiled.

  • 'If I were your schoolmate I would have sniffed on your pants for sure!'

  • 'you like sniffing underwear?'

  • 'when it's from sexy, constipated guys like you, of course!' I smiled.

  • 'maybe I got something for you, then...'

  • Paul left the table and returned with a pair of briefs. This is a little present for you!' He handed me the briefs over and returned on his pizza.

Even as I still had some of my food left, I needed to take a short examination on the clothing. At the seat of this briefs there was a stale, dark brown circular imprint by the size of a grapefruit. Earthy smell emitted from the fabric

  • 'someone was sitting on his turd recently!'

  • 'that was me on the train back home.' Paul wend a bit red-faced as he told me this, 'Betsys mom stuffed me so much that I got a very strong urge as we climbed the train with our heavy luggage. I was lucky that my shit slid back in my butt after some hours of sitting and waiting.'

  • 'and it didn't return since then?'

  • 'I feel it sitting in my butt but it is not pressing.'

  • 'maybe there's a market for briefs used by sexy guys with constipation -- I would buy some for sure.'

  • 'I should think about this,' he said, 'do you really think that people are buying such stuff?'

  • 'well,at least, there are guys who offer their used pants on sex sites. There must be some market for this.'

  • 'how much do these cost?'

  • 'They sell a pair of used briefs for something like 200€.'

  • 'really?'

  • 'yeah -- and they claim that the were wearing them for a week or so without washing, have pissed and jerked in them and some also feature skid marks.'

  • 'well, this may be a way to get some extra money.'

  • 'I may find you some profiles that feature this if you like to -- just for getting an idea.'

  • 'well, so far, I don't really need to sell my dirty underwear -- seems the washing machine is back in business.'

As if to confirm this, the machine had just started spinning the laundry dry as its last act for today.

  • 'thanks for helping me with this problem,' with a happy smile in his face Paul fetched out his laundry to put it on the dryer and I began to rescrew the cover of the machine. Then we pushed it back in its place.

  • 'Im thinking how I may repay you for this service.'

  • 'that's not really necessary -- you acted as my model for free for so many times and some of the pictures were sold successfully,' I replied, 'so you payed them somehow in advance.'

  • 'I really think that you earned yourself some extra modelling by this,'

  • 'as I already said -- I don't expect something in reverse.'

  • 'you know what?' he kept to owing me something, 'we may do some asshole shots of a special kind if you want to.'

  • 'Uuuhhw, really?'

  • 'you know, i do like the attention you give me when taking pictures -- and as long as I am not recognizeable on these I will be really happy with this.'

  • 'I would be the last person to resist this.'

  • 'so, what about tomorrow evening?'

  • 'sure, I will be ready for you'

  • 'so, I will visit you after my shift in the bookstore'

We heard keys turning in the flats doorlock -- I quickly grabbed the briefs lying on the table and stuffed them into my pocket. Betsy was back from her evening out and Paul stood up to give her a kiss.

  • 'oh, you repaired the washing machine?'

  • 'yeah, we were lucky -- it was nothing serious.'

  • 'was it expensive to do?'

  • 'no not really -- Paul will pay this with some modelling for my camera.'

  • 'are you really making money with these pictures?'

  • 'well, somehow, yes -- there's people who like to decorate their place with pictures of a skinny, young man,' I replied, 'but now I leave you two alone -- I've got to open my studio early tomorrow morning.'

I grabbed my toolbox and walked home -- 'Betsy is really cool with him doing nude photos for me,' I thought by myself, 'I don't know many girlfriends who would react like her knowing that her boyfriend is posing for a gay guy...'

At home I took a more than close observation of his briefs -- they were not not really smelling like piss or dried jizz but the earthy smell of Pauls shit was really present together with some sweaty odour. His skid mark was quite present -- more like a dense covering of dried shit by the size of an orange sitting in the seat of these trousers.

They definitively worked well to get me hard within seconds of smelling on them and It didn't last long until I sprayed my cum on these -- what a treasure!

I soon fell in a happy sleep.

The next day at noon Paul popped buy in my studio. He was on his way to his bookstore shift.

  • 'hey, I'n really excited for this evening,'

  • 'so am I -- I will get everything ready for you for seven 'o clock.'

  • 'can you, maybe sort me some of these profiles out that are selling briefs?' I am really interested in how they present their stuff.'

  • 'yeah, why not.'

  • 'I'm off for now -- have a nice afternoon.'

My afternoon was more than happy -- not really from the work to do but from the things to come up.'

Paul appeared right at closing time at the moment, I just pushed my last customer out of the door.

  • 'ready for action?' I asked.

  • 'more than ready!' he replied. His dick could be seen pulsing quite obviously in his jogging trousers.

  • 'fancy to see dirty sex profiles first or would you like to take some pics first?''

  • 'let me see the profiles selling underwear'

I had sorted some profiles out on a sex site where I occasionally lurked around, which claimed to be young men selling their dirty underwear.'

Looking through these made him really excited.'

  • 'so their customers send them underwear to carry for some time and they send them back when they are smelly and dirty?' he commented on the stuff he saw, 'some of these guys are really sexy from what I see...'

  • 'It works better when you appear sexy, you know...'

  • 'you know what, we should do some pics for making such a profile for me during our next meetings.'

  • 'okay, I am happy to help you with this.'

  • 'may be we begin with a picture pulling up my shirt to show my naked belly,' he handed me his smartphone and presented his sexy swollen belly.

  • 'and now you should hop on the models table,' I told him after taking this shot.

He stepped out of his clothing as I set up the lighting. He was looking hot and sexy as ever when he was sporting a bloated belly. It was not really prominently poking out of his skinny body but seeing him naked with that visible sign of constipation made my dick quite excited.

  • 'how do you want me?' he asked as he climbed the table.

  • 'on your knees with your butt up in the air facing to me would be great.'

  • 'ah, and here's my phone -- please take some extra pics for me, okay?'

  • 'sure, will be a pleasure for me.'

Paul took the position I asked for and presented me his always beautiful butt-trench. As he pointed his butt up, his hole was still sunk in deeply in his crack.

  • 'nice, your ass still looks like it's all empty.'

  • 'is my hole okay for you like this.'

  • 'yeah, great -- can you keep it relaxed but closed?

  • 'sure that's an easy job.'

  • 'I did some hot close up of his deeply sunk in hole. The deep folds of brown pigmented skin in his crack made a nice frame for his well developed sphincter muscle. It was fun experimenting with the light setting on this to work out the ideal shadows.

After twenty minutes I was done with this pose.

  • 'maybe we do another pose with you lying on your back with your legs bent really wide?

Paul took a change in position and offered me his crack in total frontal view.

  • 'is it okay like this,' he asked.

  • 'more than okay!'

  • 'like this my shit is a bit pushing, you know...'

  • 'so far it couldn't be seen to much -- makes a nice view for me.'

And indeed it was nice -- his muscle framed by his pelvic floor covered in folds made an extremely hot closeup.

He patiently gave me views of his hole relaxed an tightened as long a I needed it for my work -- and I also did some extra shots for him with his phone.

As always, his anal region was clean as if licked. Some of the shots wouldn't give you the idea of an asshole but of something very aesthetic and mysterious.

  • 'with a hole this clean you will have some problems to sell dirty underwear,'

I really needed to comment on this.

  • 'we all know that there's the necessary stuff waiting just on the other side,' he replies and pushed a little hissing fart directly into my lens.

Instantly his earthy aroma hit my nose..

  • 'eeew, you're such a dirty guy!'

  • 'but only for the ones who know how to appreciate this.'

He slightly pushed his hole out with his sphincter really tightened. That gave me the last photo for that evening.

  • 'I think, I am done so far -- your hole was a beautiful motive as always.

  • 'great, I think Betsy is already waiting for me.'

  • 'good to know -- I could hardly stand this sight for much longer...'

  • 'no touch for you!' he laughed as he sat up.

  • 'lucky me got some briefs to work on...'

  • 'not to forget, some really closed up photos.'

  • 'oh, that's a professional thing -- I won't get off on these!'

  • 'I can't believe this!' Paul was staring on my hardened dick snaking down the leg of my trousers.

  • 'oh, come on -- tell me one person who could stand a sexy butt like yours!'

  • 'let's see what the professional mind of yours will do with the pictures when we hook up the next time.

  • 'when will that be?'

  • 'what about Saturday morning?' he proposed, 'five more days will make some changes in my butt and nice new motives for you.'

  • 'okay -- I will have time for you on Saturday.'

  • 'what about eleven?'

  • Okay, then, let's hook up at eleven.

He gave me a broad smile as he left.

I took my time during the week to do the editing on the shots I made of him. It turned out to be quite challenging to see his asshole on a 24inch screen in closeup.

By end of the week I could say that I know every wrinkle in his crack for sure.

Concerning my professionallity I had quite a hard work to stand my permanent erection as I did the editing...

On Thursday he messaged me:' can you send me a pic of the briefs I gave to you? You know what's necessary to see in the pic, don't you ? :-)'

Of course I knew! I did my best to make his shit stained briefs look as delicious as possible as I returned home that evening.

He replied the next morning: 'Thanks for the pics -- they will do a great job. I made me a profile on that site -- maybe you want to take a look?'

He added the link to this profile.

Shortly after that he sent another message: 'may I use your P.O. Box address for the guys who might want to send me underwear?'

  • 'for sure you can - I gladly support young entrepreneurs wherever I can ;)'

Of course I checked out the profile during a break.

26 year old Paul turned out to be just 19 presenting himself with some very cute pictures showing his naked body from behind. A shot of his semi erect dick, his hole and, of course his bloated belly. Not to forget the pics of his dirty briefs. He had made sure that he could not be recognised and shifted his location some 300 kilometres away.

He, of course mentioned that he would trade dirty underwear with the ones who liked to do so und did quite a nice text about his habit to hold in his shit: 'I tend to be severely constipated since early childhood and like it a lot to be so. I often hold my shit for weeks until it is really big and hard like hell. By the time I am really full, my shit often pushes heavily in my underwear. Maybe you are interested in stuff like this...?'

Not bad for a start -- I was sure that he would be bombed by requests in no time.

The message I received on Friday afternoon approved this: 'looking forward to see you tomorrow -- my shit is pushing nicely by now. Btw: my profile turned out to be very popular...'

As the met that Saturday, he was in a quite excited mood and needed to talk instantly what was going on at his sex profile.

Lots of men were interested in buying underwear -- better yesterday than tomorrow and pushed him about his address. Of course he resisted politely to tell these details, he told me but 'how should I deal it with the money?'

  • 'I think, it's best to let them buy the underwear and send it together with the money you want for your service to the postbox. So, you're on the safe side that they pay.'

  • 'if it's okay for you to have your postbox overflowing by textiles...'

  • 'be sure that there won't be as much happening at it seems right now.'

  • 'but they are all so excited'

  • 'it's easy to be excited when things are not getting serious, you know,' I replied, 'make sure to communicate that you won't be able to soil the briefs and whatever instantly. Tell them that they have to wait for weeks or that they should send you their stuff on your demand.'

  • 'that's an good point.'

  • 'never forget to communicate when you received their stuff, that you are thankful and that you are delighted to spoil the textiles for them...'

  • 'to keep the climax?'

  • 'yeah, exactly -- and to show reliability. And send them photos of the soiled pants before you send them back. I'm sure they will like it.'

  • 'seems like good ideas to keep them at the rope.'

  • 'and make clear what you don't want and what you won't do for them -- men need clearly communicated frontiers to understand where they have to stop.'

  • 'I will try to keep this in mind -- sounds quite helpful to get new underwear as well,' he smiled.

  • 'yeah, you may send them Amazon links about what boxers you want to receive and that you want to have two identical ones -- one for your client and one for yourself.'

  • 'now, that's a clever move...' he laughed -- but now, I want to see what you made from our last times shots.

We went over to the computer where he sat down with a moan,' My but is quite full, you know,' he commented, 'I like it pushing back in my ass when I sit down.'

I opened the folder with the edited pictures.

  • 'ooh, that's all my hole?' he cried out with his eyes wide open, 'I would fall in love for this if it weren't already mine!'

He clicked through the photos. 'the frontal shots of my hole are really hypnotic, I think,' he commented, 'They would do great in some Yoga classes!'

  • 'depends on what kind of Yoga you're thinking of...'

He laughed out loud, involuntarily ripping a booming fart, 'I like a lot what you made out of my asshole -- these are some really hot pics!'

  • 'Yeah, I see how much you like them,' his joggers were bulged enormously due to a raging erection.

  • 'you mean, they don't excite you?' he turned around on the chair in directly looked at the bulge my trousers were sporting, 'so much for your professionality,' he smiled...

  • 'speaking of yoga,' I returned, 'wasn't there something we wanted to take photos of?'

  • 'fancy to take some photos of my growing hole?'

  • 'I remember that this was the topic of our encounter.'

  • 'so, let's start,' he went over to the corner where I take the photos and took off his clothing.

  • 'don't forget to hand me your phone to complete your personal collection.'

  • 'ah, yeah, thanks to remember me,' he bend over to fiddle for his phone in the pockets of his trousers lying on the ground. His butt spread wide as he did so and gave me a good view on the upcoming things.

He sported a remarkable bulge around his visibly tensed hole. Already now his crack was no longer a trench. It was totally filled by his protruding pelvic floor.

  • 'now this looks promising,' I whistled.

  • 'I like it a lot when I'm at this stage,' he replied as he handed me his phone, 'the pushing in my butt gives me nice sensations.'

He permanently sported a half erect dick that involuntarily jumped up from time to time.

  • 'how long can this last?'

  • 'up to a week when I'm lucky,'

  • 'and you permanently have your dick like this during that time?'

  • 'Yeah, most of the time it's excited like this -- sometimes even more,' he smiled luckily.

  • 'Betsy must be delighted to see you like this.'

  • 'well, she is indeed,' he grinned, 'but more due to my belly because she things that I am currently obviously eating enough for her opinion.'

  • 'not because of your dick?'

  • 'not that much -- she thinks that I want to fuck with her all the time I have kind of an erection,' he sighted, 'this impression gives her kind of discomfort even as I always point out that it doesn't mean this.'

  • 'but you leave her in her thought that you're eating more when you have this bloating belly?'

  • 'yeah, why not?' he shrugged, 'she is happy with my belly and I don't need to explain why I am not hungry -- that's fine for both of us!'

  • 'well, then get yourself in front of the backdrop and turn your back on me just standing upright and relaxed.'

Having Paul standing like this in front of my camera offered a real sexy sight. The little bubbles of his sitting muscles were visibly parted at the lower half of his crack. I did some total shots and also just his hips and legs. The light was set from one side so that the gap between his butt-cheeks appeared deep, wide and mysterious. Of course I also did some pics with his phone for him.

  • 'now show me your profile,' he turned his left side to me. His bloated belly sported an almost round bulge about the size of a soccer ball jumping out of his skinny body around his cute navel. I did some shots for me and with his phone -- on the pics showing whole of his body he turned his head away from me.

It was a real sensual and sexy view with his half-hard dick hanging in a downward curve under his doming belly.

  • 'can you please put your right hand on the top of your bloat and the left hand below, just as if you were pregnant and holding your baby?'

He did as I asked him -- this pose made him even more sensual.

  • And now push your hips forward as if want to present your belly very proudly -- yeah, quite like this,' he had pushed his hips so much that is was close to get a comical character. His butt was real tensed in this posture making his cheeks springing out quite as round as his belly did.

  • ' let your arms hang down from your shoulders like ropes, but with your fingers spread from your hand.'

I never did more sexy pictures from a bloated belly!

  • 'thanks with this,' I moved the lights over to the table, 'I think it's time you hop on the table...'

  • 'did you take some good shots?' he asked as he climbed up.

  • 'Yeah, for sure! -they would also make a nice addition in your vending profile.' I gave him his phone and he checked through the latest pics.

  • 'wow, these look hillarious! - I had no idea how sexy my body looks in profile when I am stuffed like this!' His erection had straightened visibly while he checked the pics. His dick couldn't be overseen as he presented some good eight inches erect, but he behaved as if it wasn't there.

I've seen a lot of hard dicks in my live and career as a photographer from which I can tell that all men really needed to touch their erection when one was present, but he wasn't touching at all.

  • 'don't you want to touch your dick,' this was worth a question.

  • 'no, I shouldn't do this by now,' he neglected, 'I would come within seconds when I get these sensations in my butt. Even pissing is a challenge by now!'

  • 'so let's look for the reason of your anal arousal,' get on your knees and lower your butt so far that it is at the height of your heels -- yeah, just like this...'

His bubbly cheeks were still not really parted but the bulge of his bloating pelvic floor already was growing in the gap in between. His seat muscles clung to the bump like to an old friend. The symmetry in this sight was hot and his sphincter tensed to a meaty knot completed the sexyness of this view.

I did some total views and detailed pics for me and with his phone.

  • 'can you please relax your hole slowly as far as it is okay for you in this position?

  • 'oh, I think I may relax it up to the total point today,' he responded and did what he was asked for.

I did a juicy series as his hole was slowly getting more relaxed and his bulge moving out a bit more as he did so. In the end his asshole was a fleshy, wrinkled area at the size of a small Orange just in the centre of the opening, his butt-cheeks offered for his pelvic floor.

  • 'this is great in so many aspects,' and it was worth several photos.

  • 'can you, uhm...'

  • 'yes?'

  • 'can you put some lip gloss on your hole for the camera? - I want your muscle look real juicy.'

  • 'shure, no problem, - do you have some?'

I handed him the little bottle and he carefully placed the shiny substance on his muscle.'

  • 'now this makes it really tasty!' I did some shots for him and me, maybe now you lie on your back as you did in the sauna, pointing your feet and hole towards the camera. The new pose gave his ass and crack some mystical lighting and the shining of his still relaxed hole covered in lipgloss made it appear like some animal hiding in its foxhole.

  • 'now tighten your hole, please.' he acknowledged my wish with a grunt. His sphincter contracted, forming a big glob of lipgloss in it's centre that was slowly running down -- I never expected to take such pictures of Paul!

  • 'I need some tissues...'

  • 'just let it go -- it looks extremely hot like this!'

  • 'you have to clean up the studio, not me...'

  • 'okay, thanks for that -- you may now dry off your hole,' I offered him a tissue.

  • 'hmh, this lipgloss even feels nicer than the oil tissues I normally use for my butt,' commented Paul with delight.

  • 'you may come over and clean your butt with lipgloss whenever you want to...'

Anything else I may pose for you?'

  • 'yeah, maybe on your knees with your butt up in the air'

  • 'nothing more easy than this...'

With his butt pointing to me the trench between his cheeks was more a discreet but clearly visible bulge formed of wrinkled skin with his muscular asshole clenched shut in its centre.

I managed to illuminate it like some kind of mysterious hill with something meaty and organic on top.

  • 'what if you relax your hole?'

  • 'it may open up really fast now!'

  • 'that's okay for me.'

I took a series of photos as his asshole relaxed slowly and sunk in the skin level like a big, round, red, bulgy carpet.

Then a small hole appeared in the centre and his rectum began to suck in air while his hole relaxed more and more to an opening at the size of a tennis ball.

  • 'that's so hot!' I took pictures that should later appear as if this hole was some kind of geyser waiting to spill out some hot magma.

  • maybe you can put your hands in your hole from both sides and pull it open?'

He did as requested and pulled slightly at first.

  • 'can you pull real hard for me?' Now he obviously ripped his hole open as wide as he could. I did some hot shots for me and then also with his phone. He managed to tear his hole open nearly as wide as the space between his sitting bones -- that were some impressive seven inches. His deep red meaty rectal tissue pushed in the opening and in the middle there was sitting his load of shit. Still somehow deep in his rectum but nearly as wide as he had pulled his hole open.

As I took the pics with his phone, his butt sucked in more air und his turd sunk in more deeply getting somehow lost in the wide opening of his rectum.

  • 'these are some hot shots -- and I think the last pictures for today.'

he carefully pushed out the air and clenched his hole shut.

  • 'let me see what's in my phone!'

Paul was very satisfied with what he found there, 'oh, how much I love my asshole' he commented with great happieness, 'there's lots of nice photos for extra content for my underwear profile,' he giggled.

  • 'you shouldn't post to much at once -- it's better when you change your content from time to time...'

  • 'maybe corresponding with the actual state of what's going on in my butt,' he giggled.

  • 'yeah, that's a great idea,' I agreed, 'also I have got a lot of hot pictures to work on -- this was a great shooting!'

  • I was quite fun for me,' he was back on his feet and getting back in his joggers.' with the last pose my shit slid back deeply in my bowels -- makes it a lot more easy to piss for me. He went for my toilet as he mentioned this. When he returned he said, 'when my shit is big and pushes in my butt, it somehow blocks my bladder. This makes it extremely complicated to take a piss without having my shit sliding into my hole -- pulling my hole apart really does the trick to make my shit disappear from there for some time.' he smiled very satisfied.

  • 'so, you drop me a line when it's getting more serious in your butt and then we'll meet again for some shots?'

  • 'sounds like a good idea -- but now I have to return back to my study-books. I will be hanging on my butt for the next one or two weeks for sure to get work for the university finished.'

  • 'Sounds like fun and constipation for me...'

Over the weekend there was not much communication between us. He only mentioned on Sunday afternoon that the web was going nuts over his sex profile that was not really a sex profile.

I spent my time editing photos of a well-known asshole and even as the pictures were phantastic, I somehow developed the wish to do something different. Bees or plants, maybe...

On Tuesday I found three anonymously sent envelopes in my postbox that obviously were not meant for me, 'hey! I've got some fanmail for you'

  • 'hey thanks to your message -- I unfortunately have to stay at my books for now. Is it okay for you when I come over tomorrow evening at closing time?'

  • 'sure -- just for picking up your mail or also for photos?'

  • 'just in case -- be prepared for photos -- Betsy tries to stuff me with food on every possible occasion. She turns me mad with her fear, that I might die from hunger :('

Wednesday came and in my postbox there were another eight envelopes -- maybe Paul should install a postbox of his own when this goes on...

  • 'now, there's already eleven envelopes waiting for you'

  • 'oh shit! How should I fulfill all these requests?'

As I finished my last shoot in the evening, Paul was already waiting at the counter of my studio.

  • 'you're early,' I greeted him, 'and you're kind of a star!' I handed him the envelopes as I closed the entrance door.

He ripped them open and examined their content.

  • 'dammn! I got underwear for the rest of my life'

I tuned out hat his 'customers' had all bought underwear he wanted them to buy for him in double exemplaries.

And it turned out that his price for preparing one of these pants with skidmarks and piss stains was 200 Euros. One of the guys also wanted him to jack off in his underwear -- that made the price rise to 300 Euros!

  • 'it seems that you discovered capitalism...' I needed to comment on this.

  • 'I really don't know what to do with this much of requests,'

  • 'maybe you should close your shop for some time until you finished with all these pants.'

  • 'sounds like a good idea,'

  • 'or you open up a waiting queue.'

  • 'I already got one as you see, 'he pointed to the envelopes, 'and maybe there's still coming more'

  • 'so you can only be happy that Betsy does her best to make your business going forward.'

  • 'She's crazy about feeding me. Yesterday we had sex and I showed her my belly in hope that she sees by herself that I don't need so much to eat. But the only this she said was that she doesn't want to get this disappear again!'

  • 'maybe she's a feeding fetish?'

  • 'every day she brings me food in tupperware or even cooks at our appartment!' he began digging in his backpack and offered me a tupper-box, 'maybe you like maccaronis?'

It was a quite big portion of food -- enough for three people with good appetite.

  • 'she began observing me if I am really eating and how much. I a really glad that today she was in hurry.'

  • 'I will gladly help you out with this -- I havent eaten yet.' the box went in the microwave and I began to snack out of it.'

  • 'take as much as you want -- preferably simply eat all!

  • 'you sure that you don't want to eat from this'

  • 'definatly not!' he shook his head in disgust, 'I am still stuffed with food from yesterday that I can taste every time I burp. And tomorrow she will come with new food for sure.' he made a helpless face.

  • 'you should put this clear with her somehow.'

  • 'for shure I should, but I don't know how. - maybe I'll bring you tupperware every other day or I begin too feed my room-mate -- he's kind of always hungry and in need for money.'

  • 'let's play theatre for her...' I took out nearly all maccaronis from the box and stored them on a plate in my fridge. -'I leave a bit inside so that you can say to her that you nearly ate all from it.'

  • 'thanks a lot!' he sighted 'Im am glad that I will be sitting on my butt the next week so, my shit can't come out.'

  • 'not forgetting that you have some boxers to soil!'

  • 'that's the ideal moment for this -- in the next days my shit will force my hole open almost constantly and while doing so I also dribble piss. This will make one underpants per day.'

  • 'so, has Mr. butt-full-of-gold something to show me today?'

  • 'sorry, there's no big changes in my butt so far -- I only feel bloated like hell,' he burped loudly and pulled up his shirt. He indeed was bloated like hell. His belly popped out right above his waistband up to his ribcage like he was close to explode.

  • 'this is quite bigger than the time before you shat in my studio*

  • 'it also feels bigger but so far I am just bloated -- no bigger pressure in my butt, sorry'

  • 'well there's more days coming and I can wait.'

  • 'be sure that you will be the first person to witness when I'm getting off my shit,' he smiled weakly, took the backpack with his fan-mail and went home.

Next day I found more fan-mail for him, 'there's another five envelopes for you'

  • 'I closed the queue but these must be letters that were already in the line.'

Later the day he texted, Betsy is so happy that I ate up the macaroni -- and she left another Tupper for me. I gave it to Joe and he gladly ate it up :-)'

In the evening: 'Things are getting pushy in my pants, but not dramatic -- everything under control (thumbs up)'

Two days later in the afternoon: 'we need to talk! - have you got time for me?'

Now, that was a new one, 'sure, come over.'

  • 'can you come over to me? I really need someone to talk but I really don't want to come over!'

This sounds serious! - 'I'll come over! I'll be at your place in half an hour, okay?'

  • 'okay, great!'

I closed my studio earlier and went over to Pauls place.

As I came up the stair to his flat he stood in the door with a pale face. His eyes were red as if the had cried and he was struggling with snot in his nose.

  • 'what's the matter with you?'

  • 'I had an argument with Betsy and...' he sniffled sadly, 'it's a catastrophy!' tears formed in his eyes.

  • 'lets go in and talk,' I pushed him into the flat. He sat on his bed, still sobbing in tears and patted on the mattress on his left side, 'can you sit next to me, please?'

  • 'need an arm around on your shoulders?'

He nodded silently.

After a while sitting in silence I asked. 'so, tell me, what happened...'

  • 'Betsy came with a lot of spaghetti that she wanted me to eat,' he sobbed, 'I was felling so full and couldn't eat that moment. - but she insisted that I should eat from this and that she won't leave until I haven't eaten at least a plate of spaghetti.' he rubbed his eyes, 'and then she took a plate and put a mountain of stuff on it and set it in front of me -- I was shocked!'

  • 'what happened then?'

  • 'she insisted that I should start eating -- I had no choice!' he sobbed, 'I started eating but I was still burping from the previous days' food. And as I began stuffin with noodles I began feeling really sick.'

  • 'oh man, that's hard'

  • 'I told her that I wasn't feeling well but she only said that his must be something in my mind and that I must eat. - and all of sudden I threw up!' he sobbed, 'I made it to the toilet on the last second and then I threw up so hard that I collapsed in front of the toilet. The toilet was full of food -- not only spaghetti but also stuff I ate the last three days. It all stank like hell and I felt so awful!' he began to cry. I wrapped my arm tighter around his shoulders and let his tears run.

After a while he continued talking, 'Betys was shocked about what happened and I only wanted her to leave. I cried at her that I don't want to see her any more. Then, she ran away. And now I don't know what to do,' again he began crying.

I waited until his tears stopped -- anyways my shirt was already soaked in tears and snot.

Then I asked him, 'what do you want to happen?'

  • 'I want Betsy to stay my friend, I love her, you know, but I don't want to be fed by her any more, our love can't continue with her filling me up with food, it's so awful...' his body began to shake and again loads of tears soaked my shirt.

It lasted a while until no snot was left in his head. He sat on his bed staring into the empty; he began shaking as if he was freezing. I fetched a towel and dried his face (and my shirt). Then I gave him a long hug. -'maybe you should lie down and get warm again -- let me fetch you a blanket.

When I came back into his room with a woollen blanket I found in the kitchen, he had stripped of his clothes and was lying in his bed still shaking. I spread the woollen blanket over him and sat on his bed.

  • 'can you stand the night with me?' he looked at me with his red, swollen eyes.

  • 'is it so hard?' he already went on crying. 'oh, my...' I lay myself on the blanket besides him and wrapped an arm around is shoulders.

We lay speechless like an hour long, then I heard him say with a broken voice, 'I'm still cold -- can you lie with me under the blanket?'

I never experienced him this needy and he was such a mess that I agreed. I stripped down to my boxers and shirt and crawled under his blanket. He snuggled his skinny body at me and lay his head on my chest. Slowly it began to darken -- the night came. We were lying wordless. Paul had begun snoring silently and smelled like vomit. I just stayed by his side and gave him my body warmth.

Somehow I also must have fallen to sleep. I woke up in the night from the splattering sound of piss in the bathroom and someone using the flush. I turned to the wall and pretended to sleep as I heard Paul come back. He crawled back in his bet and snuggled close to my back wrapping his arms around me. I felt his breath in my neck -- he was no longer smelling -- maybe he drunk some water while he was in the bathroom.

I fell back into sleep and didn't wake up until sunlight hit the room. I didn't really wake up by the sun but by someone rubbing his hard-on at my hips.

I must have turned on my back in my sleep now I had Paul in my arms, or, maybe he had me in his arms -- I don't know really. His hair was tickling in my face as he had his face lying close to my head and his body was lying half on mine. Quite a nice feeling, I must admit, but not the situation I'd expected to find me in. Not to forget that Paul was rubbing his erection on me through the fabric of his pants. It was kind of unintentionally but as his dick was big enough to not be ignored it was more like he was searching for a place to stick it in. He still seemed to be sleepy. Of course his remarkable belly also rubbed on my side. I began kindly stroking his back and without a word he changed his position a bit to give me easier access to bis back. Slowly I let my hand slide deeper towards his tailbone and he still tried to give me easy access to this region of his body. The way to his butt-cheeks was short -- and worth it as he moved up a bit towards my hand and bend one of his legs so that his ass-cheeks parted. I took it as an open invitation to stroke his crack -- or, as I instantly felt, the big, hard bulge that grew in my hand as I slipped my hand between his sitting muscles. I literally fondled his constipated shit sticking out of his body only covered by his pelvic skin and the fabric of his boxers.

Paul sighted and began rubbing his dick harder on my hips. I continued fondling his bulging hole and he really seemed to appreciate it -- his breath turned faster. Suddenly he pulled down his boxers. From one moment to the other I had his protruding hole sitting in my hand with no protection -- his sphincter was contacting involuntarily. And I made the best out of it and continued stroking the part of Pauls body I always wanted to touch the most. Somehow he managed to push his dick into the leg of my boxers and his hips began to rub faster. I continued fondling his hole and made myself ready be having my boxers flooded.

His moanings turned more intense -- I decided to grab his bulging hole like someone would grab an apple to test it's quality - that made him come within seconds. I felt his muscular hole contracting unbelieveably fast as he pumped a constant flow of sperm in my underwear as it it would never stop. I still fondled his contracting hole -- it felt like his whole pelvic floor was contracting like mad and he couldn't stop moaning. I was sure that his balls must have been pumped empty already but his dick was still hard and contracting in the leg of my boxers. And, of course, his moaning didn't stop. He was pushing his butt against my hand as if he wanted me to fondle harder on is hole -- and, well, I did as I was asked. Now I finally found out what pleasure he got when his hole was pushing out so massively. This bulge had the right size to fit in my hand and it was great fun to rub gently on that dome. Even as Paul signaled that he wanted to get rubbed harder. Why not? I intensified my pressure on his shit-bulge as if I wanted to push it back in bis butt and he got nuts by starting another orgasm in my boxers. His hole contracted hard into the palm of my hand while his bowels forced his shitload against my hand. Pauls whole body contracted as he whimpered in my ear, 'it's sohotsohothorhot,' he babbled before re relaxed totally. His exhausted breath at my ear, his semi soft dick still jumping from time to time in the leg of my boxers and his now even bigger bulging pelvic skin and asshole in the palm of my hand. This must have be some kind of heaven. I continued gently stroking is monstrous excretion organ and he seemed still to enjoy it by the sounds he was producing. Slowly his body was relaxing more but he still pressed his butt against my hand, or, maybe it was just his bowels pushing his asshole against my hand. I felt his sphincter getting softer and all of sudden I sensed that there was no longer skin covering his shit! His hole had opened quite wide and the palm of my hand was filled by the tip of the monstrous turd that was now sticking out of his butt. As he was still moaning it continued fondling his asshole. I had my fingers running along the silky ring of folds forming his asshole and let them glide over the well lubed, slimy surface of his turd. What he seemed to like the most was me having the tip of his turd pushing in the palm of my hand and stroking the border of his open hole with the tips of my fingers -- and I also liked it a lot.

His asshole contracted slowly from time to time and so did his semi-hard dick in my boxers. We continued lying like this for a long time as if the moment was meant to never end. Then he wispered, 'that was the hottest thing of my life' and pushed his butt gently against my hand.

  • 'I didn't expect this to happen -- but it was also the hottest thing I experienced in my life...'

Again none of us two was talking for a long time. My sperm soaked boxes began to turn cold but fondling his bloated butthole was still a lot of fun.

Then he pushed himself up a bit and looked in my face, 'You're a real friend, you know,' he looked quite seriously, 'you know I'm not into men but this stuff would never happen with a girl, right?'

  • 'are you sure about this?'

  • 'no girl I ever had wanted to touch my asscrack like you do!'

  • 'I really don't know why...'

  • 'you touched me like I always wanted to be touched by another hand.'

  • 'well I touched your butt like I wanted it to touch for long...'

  • 'can we do this some time again?'

  • 'I would be the last person to refuse this,' I smiled in his face, 'you decide when it will be...'

He pursed his lips and came close to my face as if he wanted to kiss me -- but then he turned his head and choose to nibble on my ear rubbing my face cheek to cheek, 'you know, I don't like to to kiss with men,' he whispered apologetically in my ear.

  • 'you know I don't like to kiss with my models -- except their assholes!'

He giggled for a moment, then his body straightened and he sat up, 'I think I have a lot of stuff to work on today, he proclaimed. 'especially talking with Betsy,' he said with a sad face.

  • 'maybe we should take a shower first.'

  • 'you're right!' he jumped up and walked into the bathroom. His protruding hole hang out of his butt rubbing between his ass-cheeks. I followed after him. The shower turned out to be far too small for two persons. But I had the privilege to watch him showering and even being allowed to soap his back. He clenched his butt-cheeks close very hard for the whole time sporting a freshly hardened erection as he stood in the shower. Then we changed. He dried off, brushed his teeth and left the bathroom. No soaping my back for me. As I was finished cleaning myself I saw him moving stuff in the kitchen. For sure, his flat needed some serious cleaning. There were still spaghettis glued to the toilet and the whole bathroom featured a stale smell of vomit.

I went to his room searching for my clothing and as I entered the kitchen he was kind of tidying up the place. We wore only a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. Even as he was still looking kind of fucked due to his breakdown yesterday he was looking damn hot at the same time walking the room with his sexy belly sticking out under his shirt and his still semi erect dick dangling in his underwear.

  • 'I don't have much for breakfast over here,' he said in excuse, 'but I may warm up some spaghetti if you like.' he pointed toward an enormous Tupper-bowl standing on the table -- obviously the one Betsy brought here yesterday.

  • 'hmh, why not... -but only if you can stand the smell of this.'

  • 'well actually I don't feel bloated any more,' as he said so, I remarked that his belly was back to being ball-shaped, 'I may even try some as I feel a little bit hungry...'

He put two plates and some cutlery on the table, 'serve yourself as much as you like to eat,' he said as he arranged a small portion on the plate he meant being for himself.

  • 'are you talking to Betsy today?'

  • 'I don't know if I can stand this.' he looked sad.

  • 'so, you want to leave her?'

  • 'no, I urgently want some things to change, to make out relationship continue.'

  • 'why don't you write her a message if she has the time to talk.' I proposed, 'you don't have anything to loose by now.'

  • 'I don't feel strong enough to start this myself,' he said as he took out our warmed-up food from the microwave and sat at the table, moaning silently as his butt hit the seat of his chair.

  • 'I may type the first message for you, if it helps...'

  • 'uhm?'

  • 'well, like this you only have to send it when you're strong enough.

  • 'need to think about this,' he said slowly chewing on his noodles. 'these are tasting kind of boring,' he announced and went to the fridge and fetched out a bottle of ketchup.

He poured some over his pasta and offered the bottle to me. Well he was right -- the spaghetti indeed tasted somehow boring after hanging out on the table for one night. The ketchup helped a lot.

We ate in silence, both staring into the empty. Then he asked, 'can you take these envelopes with you on your way?' he pushed over two big pre-franked envelopes -- obviously he had already worked for his customers.

  • 'sure, no problem -- I will pass by a post office on my way to the studio.'

...silence returned.

  • 'maybe you really should type the first message for me,' he sadly said as he pushed his phone over to me. I typed in a text like 'can we please talk?' and pushed it back to him. It was no big thing but sometimes one needs help with the first step.

  • 'thanks...'

  • 'how is your business going?' I asked

  • 'besides everything else, it is going really well by now, 'you know, my hole is gaping quite permanently when I sit down and there's always drops of piss oozing out when my shit is pushed back in my butt. So I just need to slide around a bit with my bum on the chair, and there's already a skidmark in my underwear and every thing else they are asking for.' he explained, 'and if the guy also wants some dried jizz hanging in his order, I simply have to to this,'

He stood up and tensed his butt-cheeks. As they were pressing tightly he instantly got an erection tenting the front of his boxers. He pressed his butt tightly together with a kind of absent face and moved his hips back and forth several times. His face tensed and he moaned as his dick pumped some spurts of sperm through the fabric of his boxers.

  • 'you know, when I'm full like this the pressing in my butt is so intense that I am close to an orgasm almost permanently. I can trigger it like this very easy.'

  • 'oh!- so your orgasm was kind of an unavoidable accident this morning?'

  • 'are orgasms avoidable in the morning?' he asked back with a little laughter, 'you doing this on my butt was a totally different thing, really!'

He had finished with his food and got the concentrated look I already know from him when his shit is about to push out. 'ohhh, this aready triggered it, he moaned as he shifted whole his weight on his butt to press it against the chair, 'the guy who sent me these boxers wanted his heavily caked with shit, 'he moaned, 'And I am sure he will get this by now...'

  • 'you should put it in a ziplock-bag before sending it back.'

  • 'he put one of these for me in the envelope -- he wrote, for preserving the aroma and keeping the drug dogs away.'

  • 'obviously he is not ordering this this for the first time.

  • 'yeah, obviously...' Paul stood up to put our plates at the overloaded sink that waited for someone to to take care of.

As he walked over, the seat of his boxers was kind of glued to the round bulge hanging out of Pauls butt. He saw me watching and commented, 'I leave my hole gaping by now -- it makes the fabric really caked with shit.'

  • 'maybe it is already prepared enough that I also can take it to the office for you.'

  • 'good idea,' he nodded and peeled the boxers off his butt right in the kitchen. -'look,' he said to me as if it was necessary to get me watching was was happening right now. His dark shit column had pressed out of his butt as wide as a big orange. His swollen asshole was visible as a bulgy, red frame gaping at the level where his ass-cheeks embraced his shit-load.

  • 'you're such a hot shitter!'

  • 'not, I am such a hot shit-holder,' he corrected me and tightened his hole. The obvious strength of this muscle surprised me like always as it was slowly pulling itself over the surface of his shit-load stetching his pelvic skin with no mercy. In the end his asshole was sitting on top of this bulge like a bulgy, red donut. His pelvic skin was stretched out so much that its deep folds showed a pink glow in its valleys.

  • 'oh, how much I love it when my hole is rubbing on my shit like this,' he moaned. He fetched an envelope, pulled a zip-lock bag out of it and folded the now impressively dirty boxer-shorts in, after he took a picture of it lying on the kitchen table. His customer could be lucky to get some pants that have their seat caked with an almost closed layer of earthy smelling shit.

  • 'you're taking your business quite seriously,'

  • 'it's quite fun earning money like this,' he went for another envelope and put on the boxer he found in it, 'by this evening I will have some more prepared for delivery.'

Maybe we should meet soon to take some pictures of your impressive gaping hole and stuff...?'

  • 'maybe I got time by this evening,' he hesitated, 'depends on what happenes with Betsy...

  • 'uhm just drop me a message -- I may also find time for you during the weekend.'

Soon after I left his flat with envelopes filled with filthy boxers. Thankfully it doesn't matter, opening so late because I had no fixed appointments.

The day passed with nothing special happening.

In the late afternoon my phone beeped -'Betsy and I had a long talk and it seems that we will go on with our relationship -- I a sooo happy :)'

  • 'oh, that's a nice success!'

  • 'do you want to meet me later?'

  • 'if it's okay with B?'

  • 'she's stuck in a job and wants to meet me at ten this evening. I may come to you by five if you like?'

I checked the calendar and noted a new appointment with Paul for five, 'I'm delighted to meet you at five :)'

In the afternoon Paul appeared at my shops counter. He walked in with his butt-cheeks pressed together which made him walk a bit funny. As he entered he sat on the first chair he could get and sighted, 'I really need a seat after this walk,' he commented, 'my shit is pushing quite hard by now'

  • 'that's nice to hear,' I said as I locked the door shut.

  • 'on my way to here I dropped off another six envelopes at the post office,' he said proudly.

  • 'and I received six more for you as I checked out my postbox!'

  • 'oh nooooh!' he rolled his eyes, 'these guys are going nuts for me!'

  • 'obviously!'

  • 'one guy is posting me messages how much he wanted to send him one of my turds. - is there something left that these guys don't want to have?'

  • 'when it comes to constipation and big turds, the doesn't seem to be limits...'

  • 'what do you think?'

  • 'it depends on what you want.'

  • 'well its better earning money with my shit than throwing it away...' he said with a thoughtful face, 'but how can this be done?'

  • 'there are special packages for sending stuff that needs to be coolled. He should buy such a parcel suitable for, let's say, two kilos of load and send it to you prepaid. Then you put the cold packs in the freezer and have everything ready when you're ready to send the parcel back to him.'

  • 'dindn't know this -- I should text him this!' he opened the sex site on his phone and typed something in.'

  • 'so, how was the talk with Betsy?'

  • 'it was a hard,long talk and we both cried a lot,' he resumed, 'but now we have clear that we are still in love and want to stay together.'

  • 'what about her feeding fetish'

  • 'I said to her what I absolutely couldn't eat as much as she thinks that I should. In the end she understood that my system is for eating little bits during the day and nothing else will work.' he smiled happily, 'she was really shocked after i'had thrown up and is simply happy that nothing serious happened to me and that I still want to be friends with her,' he hesitated for some seconds, 'even I was shocked how much I choked up -- the whole toilet bowl was filled by my vomit!'

  • 'was it all spaghetti?'

  • 'no there was a lot of stuff I was forced to eat the last days -- and it was really disgusting to smell and see this pouring out of my mouth.'

  • 'your stomach bust be quite big'

  • 'I think, the food was all backed up in my stomach because my system is processing food so slowly,' he thought 'I never want to experience this again!'

  • 'thinking back of you wolfing down three pizzas in my studio...'

  • 'but my stomach was empty that time and I wanted to trigger my bowels for you! - I wouldn't be able to do this after a big meal and I haven't eaten for days after these pizzas, you know?'

  • 'of course I know -- was just joking...'

Pauls phone beeped -- he checked it out. A message from the sex-site, 'the guy wants to make the deal with the parcel!' he shouted out, 'he wants me to film shitting the turd out of my ass and send it to him additionally!'

  • 'tell him a price that justifies such a service -- and think about that he will be posting your vid quite everywhere.'

  • 'I tell him that I want 300 for the film,' Paul typed in his phone, 'and another 800 for my turd!'

  • 'that's some decent price,' I whisteled.

  • 'I will tell him that there's other guys in the line being happy to pay this price. - anyways I don't need to do this -- it's him who wants my shit!'

Obviously capitalism hit my young friend with great success...

Almost immediately his phone beeped again -- he checked it out and typed some lines, 'as you told -- he thinks the price is too high...'

  • 'and have you told him about the waiting customers?'

  • 'yeah, of course...'

His phone beeped again, 'he wants a day to think about this,' he typed an answer.

  • 'what did you text him in response?'

  • 'I told him that I may hold my shit some days longer but not very much longer.' he sighted pressing his butt on my chair, 'and that the next opportunity to receive something from me will be in a month or longer.

  • maybe I can help a bit with your business...'

I checked in on the site and went to his profile. There I left some text in his comment section and posted a picture.'

  • What did you write???'

  • 'check it out!'

He hastily went on is phone and read aloud with wide open eyes, 'This guy is totally hot! I received the biggest turd I ever saw in my life from him. Two and a half kilo of quality nuggets that tastet unbelieveably hot. So sad I rejected to have him filming him shitting this out for me...'

He laughed out loud, 'you're such a bastard -- this is so obvious!' he checked on the picture, 'damn, you posted a pic of my last turd!'

  • 'well, obviously he needs some proof -- and now he has something to think about...'

  • 'are you really into eating shit?'

  • 'uhm...- I like tasting on it, but only if it's from a guy I really find hot and if he's constipated.'

  • 'so, you tasted mine?'

  • 'what about you? - didn't you lick your fingers after you pushed your shit back in your butt the last time?'

  • 'but it's the taste of my own stuff -- that's something different!'

  • 'does this really matter?'

  • 'uhmmm -- I think, you're right,' he said after a pause, 'it's okay for me when you're hot for it'

  • 'okay, then, are you ready to take some photos?'

  • 'I think my bowels are less active by now -- let's try it.'

He stood up and we went to shoot.

As he took his clothing off he carefully peeled his boxers off the shit protruding from his butt. Just like this morning, he then contracted his asshole forcefully. I took some shots from his tightened, well developed muscle still showing a little gape with dark shit sticking in it, framed by his bubbly ass-cheeks.

  • 'maybe we should do one with you sitting on the pillar...'

The pillar was more like a wooden box I made for male models to sit on. When one sits diagonally on the box, the arse cheeks come out quite beautiful. For Paul the corner of this seat would be visible quite between his ass cheeks and make a nice space to press his hole on.

My idea worked out extremely nice. He tightened his hole as he sat on the box. His protruding pelvic floor pressed hard against the seat of the box and made the stretched skin bulging out between his ass-cheeks appear like a fascinating, foreign object. He moaned lustfully as his shit worked out of his butt almost at the size of one of his ass-cheeks. The deep folds of his pelvic skin gave it a very plastic effect.

  • 'it's pushing so hard,' he moaned.

Obviously his hole had opened up -- his swollen sphincter popped out where his bulge touched the box. This made even hotter pictures.

He shifted his weight on his asshole and grunted loudly. The frame of his asshole was swelling up monstrously and so did his pelvic skin. As the exit of his bowels was blocked by the box, his shit had no chance but to widen the anal canal.

  • 'things are getting serious,' he panted, 'I shouldn't lift from this box if I want to have my shit stay inside!'

He stayed for several minutes pressing his butt against the box. The structure growing out of his butt-trench was pushing against the surface in waves.

  • 'I want to stay it inside of me,' he grunted angrily as another peristaltic wave stretched his anal canal.

  • 'maybe it helps to push your shit deeper into your butt?' I proposed.

  • 'yeah, maybe this is the only chance.'

It took him serious effort to tense his sphincter hard enough to get grip on the shit-column trying to force it's way out of his butt. After several, what it seemed, painful efforts, he managed to close his hole far enough to keep his shit from sliding out of his butt.

Them he hastily climbed off the box and went on his knees pointing his butt up in the air. His pelvic skin was bulging out of his butt forming a structure appearing like a third butt-cheek.

This effect enhanced as he tightened his hole more. His skin began to spread over his fecal mass. He began working on his load with his hands -- not with great success, as it seems.

  • 'maybe I should push it back in for you?'

he hesitated a short moment, 'maybe this is a good idea -- give it a try!'

He moaned loudly as I put the palm of my hand on his hole. I startet with a gentle push but the force from inside of his bowels couldn't be conquered by gentle pushes. So I pushed much harder.

  • 'oooh, that's so hot, he moaned loud. His hole began contracting and sperm began to squirt from the throbbing erection dangling between his skinny legs.

I continued pushing his shit back and as I enhanced my force, the bulge finally began sinking back into his butt.

  • 'oooh, it's growing inside of me' he grunted, still leaking sperm on the puddle that had formed between his legs. Now, he obviously tensed his belly muskles. His shit pushed harder against my hand an I also pushed harder.

With every push he gushed piss and sperm on my studio-floor. And with every push his hole widened more as my hand slowly sank into his butt.

  • 'I'm collapsing any moment, ' he gasped.

  • 'keep on for some seconds,' I worked his shit deeper into his over-dilated rectum. Suddenly he fell in a mixture of groaning and whimpers. His hole literally snapped my ancle and contracted hard as he pumped a fat stream of jizz out of his painfully swollen erection. His hips fell to one side pulling my arm with them. He panted heavily and it took a long time to relax his hole enough to give my hand it's freedom back .

I fetched some towels to dry him and the floor up.

  • 'Thanks so much,' he sighted, 'now I am so massively blocked!' he stroke his massively bloated belly. And I may easily close my hole by now!' he remarked with astonishment.

Indeed, his gigantic excretion organ was lying peacefully but monstrously swollen in his butt-trench. Slight shit streaks could be seen in the deep folds of his massively swollen anal ring. I took some pictures of this unique sight.

Then he got up to get back in his clothes. -'I've never been soo bloated,' he moaned. By the sight he gave I could tell that this was nor exaggerated. His bloat pooped out so massively under his rib-cage that one could easily put a glass on it. His muscles were tensing under his skin so sexily and gave his bloat an irresistible appearance.

  • 'my hole is so sore rubbing in my butt!' he whimpered as his dick was already swelling up again. 'Thanks for this hot service!'

He wrapped his arms around me and whimpered as I gently stroke his butt. I felt his boner pulse against my leg. By now, Pauls life apparently had become a never ending orgasm.

  • 'I should leave for Betsy by now,' he said by a look on his phone, 'its time already...'

  • 'have a nice time and give me some updates if you like.'

  • 'I will for sure, he said as he left through my studios door.

Next morning he texted me, 'I'm so happy -- everything is great again with Bets. We had great sex and she likes my belly. And she promised that she will never push me to eat whatever :)'

Later that day: 'my business is going quite well -- my hole is gaping but not really coming out of my butt. I need to rub the underpants on my shit by myself. Makes me cum evry time :)'

and in the evening: 'whatever you've done -- my shit sits in my booty like you nailed it there. I never felt so full!'

On Sunday my phone beeped again, 'I got something you might want to see ;)'

and 'got some time for me? -I'd like to talk...'

  • 'sure -- let's meet at my studio.'

  • 'what about now?'

  • 'K!'

I took my bicycle and rode over to the cultural centre. We arrived quite at the same time. And went to my studio.

As I opened the door, Paul stepped off his bike and ripped a loud fart -- he giggled.

  • 'that's a new one, I commented -- normally his farts were somehow silent or hissing.

  • 'it's like this since you did your pushback....'

I locked the door after we entered -- Sunday is no regular opening for me.

  • 'tell me, what's up?

  • 'butthole first or business first?

  • 'I take business first, then...'

  • ' the guy who wanted to buy my shit thinks that I am neither real, nor honest and he doesn't want to pay.'

  • 'at least you tried...'

  • 'he turned really aggressive leaving bad comments on my profile and bombing me with messages.'

  • 'a bad looser?'

  • 'yeah -- I blocked him out for everything.'

  • 'so, you're looking for new customers then?'

  • 'there's no need to because your comment brought two other guys up who really wanted to buy for the conditions I named,' he said proudly, 'one will be buying my turd by the time it is baked ready and he is buying the film too!

  • 'oh, that sounds great!'

  • 'he has only two extra conditions -'

  • '...and?'

  • 'he wants some pics and a film of my shit sitting in my butt to be sure that I am not exaggerating about the size of my shit.'

  • 'this should be no problem to deliver,'

  • 'yeah, but I don't want to do this by myself,' Paul said, 'you know, you're much better in keeping my face out of the picture.'

  • 'seems like this is my payment for you being my ever-ready and also filthy model...'

  • 'so, you will do it?'

  • 'Yeah, I will do it and I may even do the filming and editing by the time you work your load out of your butt.'

  • 'Wow, that's great!'

  • 'I'll be in the first row like this,' I smiled.

He laughed out loudly showing his beautiful teeth, 'aren't you always in the first row at my butt?'

  • 'yeah, somehow -- wasn't there something you wanted me to show about your butt?'

  • 'let's go over to your equipment...'

He stepped out his clothing and within seconds he was standing in front of me only with boxers on. They had quite visible stains at their front and smelled spicy like his piss always does when he is blocked up.'

Meanwhile his belly was no longer forming a bulge or dome. The whole area between his hips and rib-cache had popped out almost cylindrical doubling the diameter of his body!

  • 'wow, you're reaching to new levels!'

  • 'yeah, and somehow this was triggered by you.

  • 'but how?'

  • 'as you pushed my shit back so deeply it somehow changed its width. Now it is sitting inside my rectum and isn't even really touching my asshole. But it feels really wide and stuck that It couldn't move down again.'

  • 'oh, and what do you want to do with this situation?'

  • 'I will wait as long as it takes -- as always!'

  • 'How do you think, that it will last?'

  • 'really no idea -- it's the first time I am in this situation -- maybe another week, maybe two...?'

  • 'but your belly is bloating like hell!'

  • 'I am a bit in a worry about this,' he said quite unhappy, 'when I feel hungry and eat something, I am saturated instantly like there's no space left in my stomach.'

  • 'are you permanently hungry?'

  • 'yeah, quite like this -- I always have something to snack around because I am just one bite away from being saturated.' he looked around, 'tbw., you don't have something to eat over here?'

  • 'I got some caramel sweets if you like to?'

  • 'they'll do,' he replied gladly and hastily stuffed one of these in his mouth.

  • 'you know what's the best thing right now?'

  • 'tell me!'

  • 'I can easily piss when I want because my shit is not blocking my bladder any more,' he smiled.'

  • 'wow!'

  • 'and I can rip nice farts -- the ones I never was able to rip before.' a loud trumpeting sound escaped from his boxers and changed the air in my studio to something manly and earthy.'

  • 'and see what is happening when I'm flexing my asshole.' he made a concentrated face. Within seconds he sported a big erection and some seconds later he moaned and ejaculated with brute force through the fabric. Big globs of his sperm rinsed out of his boxers.

  • 'thanks for ruining my studio-floor so nicely...'

  • 'but the best thing is the hole itself,' he stepped out his boxers and folded the cloth soaked in piss and sperm with a visible plate of shit inside carefully away. Then he bent forward presenting me his spread butt, 'Isn't it gigantic?'

  • 'yeah! I've never seen it this big before.'

  • 'I think, this comes from the massive stretch inside.

Maybe this was the only explanation possible. The area between his ass-cheeks appeared a lot wider than before -- and the whole space was filled by his sphincter and folded pelvic skin.

  • 'let's give this view a try on with your butt up in the air on my table...'

  • 'can you first take a pic of my bloated belly for me?' this was done fast. Then he climbed on the table and pointed his butt towards my camera.

  • 'tighten your hole real hard,' as he clenched his asshole shut it formed a hard, bulgy knot, pulling the whole pelvic skin to something that appeared like a volcano seen from above -- as hole relaxed, itwas nor even less volcanic -- to be precise like some kind of bubbling magma pot in a volcano seen from above.'

  • 'I need to fart...'

  • 'wait, I'll film this with your phone,'

  • 'great idea! - keep on filming afterwards -- I will try to open my hole up...'

  • 'camera is on!'

He pushed out a booming fart right in the lens of his camera and my face -- this was like some dream to come true' Then re slowly relaxed his hole -- it sunk in his trench quite deeply and then it opened up. Some air was sucked in as it quickly widened to the diameter of a big orange. About three inches deeper in his rectum was sitting his shit. It was quite easy to film that it was a literal wall of hard dark-baked nuggets -- the smallest at about the size of chestnuts and the bigger ones were like potatoes. I gave the camera some time to film this inferno. Then I stopped the filming.

-' can you stay like this for a moment,' he didn't move.

I fetched out a 5-Euro banknote and put it on his tailbone just above his asshole. Then I took a picture with Pauls phone.

  • 'like this they will have some proof of the sizes.'

  • 'that's a great idea!'

  • ' may I take some professional shots of your hole as it is open?'

  • 'Yeah, sure -- no problem to keep it like this.'

I managed to take some macro shots of an unearthly place where in a deep valley some kind of monster is sitting in a wide-gaping cave. These were the most landscape-ish pics I've taken of his butt so far.

  • ' still got an idea what might look even hotter -- I should take some pics of you squatting right over the lens!'

I put two chair side by side with a gap in between so I could lie on the floor pointing my camera up. Then I set the lights so that it strokes the profile of his skin.

  • 'get your feet on these chairs and squat over me.!

Paul climbed on these chairs and spread his ass really wide as he squatted only inches away from the macro lens. His hole was far too big to appear in the lens in total.

-'we need to change this a bit!'

He got off the chairs and I put some thick books on each seat to get his butt lifted about eight inches away from the lens. This worked a lot better.

His sphincter filled with blood so that it became a massively swollen structure at quite the size of a donut throwing a long shadow over the deep folds of his pelvic shin.

His balls hanging deeply with the half erect dick having a drop of piss sitting at his piss-slit gave me a lot of opportunity to play with light and focus.

We tried out the scenery with his hole being relaxed and being tightened -- both made amazing sights witch no-one would ever recognise.

-'I'm finished so far,' I ended the session, 'your hole is a bliss -- it always makes me want to strike it -- or better, lick it!'

  • 'you may give it a try...'

  • 'can you get off these books?'

He kicked of the books and squatted much closer over my face. I lifted my head and began licking his asshole carefully -- he almost instantly began to moan like hell. I examined every wrinkle of his ring-muscle with my tongue and he began to push it out slightly to give me easier access to this secret place. I felt slimy globs of precum dripping on my chest.

Some beeping from the phone took his attention, 'oh my god!' he cried out and climbed off my face, 'I totally forgot that Betsy's coming over -- I can't stay with you!'

He was in a total hurry getting in his trousers.

  • 'well...,' I knocked the studio floors dust out of my clothes...

  • 'I'm sooo sorry,' he babbled, 'tomorrow evening I would be free for sure -- you got time by then?'

  • 'I think so...'

  • 'see you!' he grabbed his bicycle and went off at high speed.

Being interrupted in my play so brutally, I decided that I should tidy up the studio and go home -- there must be some crappy film waiting for me in the TV.

He forgot the boxers -- underwear he had carefully prepared for some pervy paying customer. I examined a bit what would be on delivery when one orders at Pauls filthy business. I directly went for the seat of his boxers as I wasn't that much interested in what he had soaked in in the front. The back of these trousers ware perfectly caked with a decent layer of shit covering about the size of his gaping hole. It smelled deliciously like warm earth -- damn, how much I would have liked to suck on these, but they were not meant for me.

I fetched some plastic bag and sealed it in.

This studio begins to smell filthy -- I really should mop it up. There will be a shot with two poodles on Monday afternoon and these dogs would find out for sure was had happened here...

Some mood told me to hang up a note at my studio-door that I will not open before noon on Monday.

I went home to my little one-room-apartment and found horrible stuff waiting in my TV -- I let an awful show running in the background and hat my laptop on my knees editing the latest shots from Paul.

These picture were really kind of unreal -- even as they present a butthole at full screen, you won't get it what it shows until know it. I should find some place there they are shown and find some customers with money. Actually Paul was doing way better than my business with his selling underwear to everybody.

As I felt getting dizzy, I converted my couch to a bed and fell asleep.

I had wild dreams and only woke up as my phone beeped. I instantly forgot what these dreams were about, but they were really filthy and Paul had a carrying role in them -- the rest was gone from my memory.

It was already noon and I woke up by a message from Paul: 'sry for yesterday -- my date planning is totally fucked up :('

Just moments later the next one, 'may I come over to you this afternoon? - we could spent tome nice time together, maybe eat, and maybe also spent the night together...?'

Seems that someone has plans with me...' 'sure,' it replied, 'what about three?'

  • 'four fits better for me :)'

  • 'see ya at 4 :)'

I used the time left to get the flat tidied up and prepared my rimseat. I hadn't used it for long but Paul would be the person who will do great on such a thing. I tucked it a bit out of sight. It shouldn't jump in his eyes on the first moment he gets in.

I found some sweets for him and even a sealed bag of crisps was found. For sure he still would not be able to eat enough to still his hunger. I decided to make a custard for him. I made one of my specialities -- vanilla and chocolate custard mixed together like a two colour swirl. It had enough time to set and get solid until his arrival.

Paul knew my address but he had never been at my place before. He was surprised about how small my flat was -- literally one room, the landlord majestically called it 'Studio-Flat'.

I just offered enough space for a convertible couch and table, a little kitchen drawer in one corner with a small table and two chairs an a bookshelf plus a TV. There was a small bathroom in one corner where literally one person fits in, barely able to close the door.

  • 'well, it is cheap and I may keep this place even when business is not running too perfect,' I told him, 'and in the end I spend most of the time at my studio, as you know...'

He found it funny anyways and looked around if there was something left in this little space, he hadn't yet discovered.

He found a big printout from one of the shots I took of him during our second asshole-shooting.

  • 'he admired the picture for being so unreal and acted as if he didn't realise that it was a closeup of his hole and butt-trench shot like a landscape.

  • 'oh, come on, you silly thing! - this is a shot of your hole -- don't you recognize it?'

  • 'really?'

  • 'you're seen this pic on my computer that evening'

  • 'it's totally different being edited and printed out in big format,' he cried out in real astonishment.

  • 'see, what some light changes on an asshole?'

  • 'on my asshole,' he corrected, 'it's something special, you know...'

  • 'do you want to see the shots we took yesterday?'

  • 'yeah, of course!'

We sat down on the couch and looked through the pictures on my laptop.

Looking at the arrangements I did on his hole made him visibly hot. His erection was jumping permanently in his jogging trousers and he was barely able to sit still while he was scrolling through the shots.

  • 'my hole is so beautiful,' he said in dreamy voice.

  • 'are we actually falling in love with our own asshole?'

  • 'hey, I've never seen it this way -- and I surely will only do so on your photos...'

  • 'we're lucky that we met each other.'

  • 'and I'm lucky that you discovered my asshole,' he giggled.

  • ' by the way, it seems that you forgot something in my studio,' I fetched the plastic back with the soiled boxers and threw it over.

  • 'oh damn!' he shouted out, 'good that you saved it for me!'

  • 'how many underwear have you pepared for the filty nation since your start?'

  • 'right now I had twenty envelopes to prepare.'

  • 'so you earned 4000 Euros in one week! - quite a nice sum of money for such a short time.'

  • 'I didn't expect this to work out so big,' he said, 'when it goes on like this I may easily finance my rent and life and pay back the credit I took up for the university'

  • 'You're not sponsored by anybody?'

  • 'my parents are not rich enough and I didn't catch a scholarship.'

  • 'so we should do our best to keep this thing running as long as possible.'

  • ' btw, the parcel for the cooled shipping of my turd should arrive Monday or Tuesday.'

  • 'and by when should your turd arrive?'

  • 'no idea so far -- it is still stuck in my ass and not really moving to my hole.'

  • 'how do you prepare the skid-marks?'

  • 'I push the seat of my boxers through in my gaping hole. My fingers can get in far enough to get the fabric stuck to my turd.'

  • 'it looks pretty much like they were painted by your turd sticking out of your hole.'

  • 'well, this was plan A, but you spoiled this a bit,' he smiled.

  • 'don't you like it this way?'

  • 'I like it a lot like hell! -I've never been so blocked up and bloated!' he shouted, 'I'm permanently at the border to the next orgasm -- that's soo hot!'

  • 'speaking of orgasms...' I pulled out my rimseat from behind the couch.

  • 'what the hell is this???'

  • 'it is a toilet seat mounted on four legs,' I explained the obvious, 'and it's damn practical if there's someone to get his asshole licked in a comfortable way.'

  • 'I never heard of something like this!'

  • 'do you want to try it out?'

  • 'hell, yeah, of course!' he already began to strip off his trousers and underwear. I lay out a bath-towel on the floor, lay myself on it and put the toilet seat right over my face.

Paul stepped over and looked down on me, 'this looks funny -- just like youre stuck in a toilet!'

  • 'take your chance on this!'

He stepped over me and lowered his skinny butt on the toilet seat. Having his hole so close in front of my face made it appear to me as if it was filling the opening of the seat almost completely with its deep-folded pelvic floor having this beautifully swollen muscle sitting in the centre.

As I sticked out my tongue to lick on his asshole he instantly shivered and began to moan, 'oh man! That's so cruel and sweet at the same time!' His meaty muscle obviously doesn't know if it's better to be relaxed or contracted while I fondled on it with my tongue. As often, his hole appeared extremely clean for me. In the beginning there was a stale, slightly bitter taste as I worked my tongue to the centre of his sphincter. But this disappeared within seconds. Quite irritating, to know that there was a shitload, several weeks worth, waiting on the other side of this hot hole but there was absolutely no leaking. Only when his hole relaxed there were small, silent farts sneaking out, giving me portions of his exiting aroma in my nose.

  • 'wait a second,' he moaned and lifted his butt from the toilet seat. Meanwhile he had a raging hardon, 'my dick is dangling at the toilet seat,' he excused, as he sat back, pulling his erection to the upper side of the seats ring.

This change in position made his butt spread even wider. Not that I needed better access to his hole -- bis butt was so skinny that it would also be an easy game to lick his hole while he was standing -- but sitting made his pelvic skin stretch his hole a lot more.

  • 'try to leave your hole relaxed as much as you can,' I mumbeled.

He did his best, to follow my instruction as he slipped more and more in absolute sexual arousal.

I had begun darting his hole with my tongue. He liked it a lot and did his best to keep his hole from contracting. When it finally came to tense up, his well trained muscle pushed my tongue out rigorously and from the wet feeling on my chest I could tell that his throbbing dick spitted another glob of precum on my body.

Time to try another one: I sealed my lips on his hole; I needed to open my mouth quite wide to accommodate it for this swollen, over-developed muscle. Then I started sucking it in my mouth.

  • 'Uhhh, what's you doin?' he whimpered in excitement.

I sucked on him while his hole was quite relaxed -- this made it swell into my mouth. It felt like filling it totally. The opening of his hole practically slipped over my tongue and gave me deep access into his anal canal.

Now he was getting wild!

He started to push his hole actively into my mouth -- it was quite overwhelming to have my jaw forced open by his excretion organ. Of course I also sucked on and pushed my tongue as deep in his hole a I could.

By now his contractions went faster. Every time his hole clenched shut, it totally retracted from my mouth for a second, only to massively swell back on my tongue after. From his grunts I could tell that he pushed his hole out as hard as he could. From time to time I tasted a little bitterness on the tip of my tongue. Small farts escaped from his anal canal directly into my mouth when my tongue gave enough room for them.

Also my excitement had grown to irresistible heights. I had fetched my dick out of my trousers and jacked it carefully. One movement too mutch would have made it explode instantly!

Paul himself was not too far from exploding himself. He panted heavily, still pushing his hole out as much as he could. It was an extreme pleasure to suck it in. Meanwhile his contractions appeared faster and when he tensed his hole it contracted in small bursts as if he finally wanted to shoot his load.

  • 'this is so hot,' he moaned as he obviously tried to push his orgasm as wide away as possible by keeping his hole relaxed and bulging into my mouth. I did my best to give him as much anal sensations as possible as I could to get the focus of his arousal away from his dick.

The room was filled by heavy panting and butt munching sounds.

Then quite out of nothing he growled heavily and his hole contracted massively. I still licked on it but now be began to fire his load. His muscle contracted like mad and I heard big platters hitting the ground everywhere around us -- that was the right moment to bring my orgasm on the stage. Some fast, jacking movements of my painfully hard dick, and also I shot my load.

Paul mixed some sounds of astonishment in his moans and growling, but was obviously still occupied by his own bodies impressions.

After a time that felt like endless, the contractions went slower and his hole kind of relaxed again.

As it was practically touching my lips in this state, I continued to gently kiss and lick on it. His muscle was massively swollen by his pushing an my sucking on it and had turned into a big, puffy pillow-like thing that just felt wonderful to caress.

He sat wordlessly on the chair and enjoyed my attention. From time to time he sighted, but these were the only sounds heard. Now it was real easy to push my tongue in his hole. His anal canal was soft and relaxed -- but far too long for my tongue reaching in his rectum. When I retracted my tongue from him, small farts escaped his bowels.

I felt peaceful and weightless.

  • 'can we,' he cleared his throat, 'can we take a break from this?'

  • 'yeah, of course...' I pushed a last kiss on his hole.

He lifted his butt and stood above me with shaky legs. He was totally soaked in sweat and sperm -- there were even garlands of our jizz hanging in his shaggy hair.

He pointed on his head and said: 'you were shooting so hard...'

  • 'and what about you?'

  • 'it was -- absolute!'

He obviously had no other words for this.

  • 'Want to take a shower?'

  • 'great idea.'

  • 'wait, I'll fetch you a fresh towel.

I dried up the floor and did a little tidy-up while he was fighting with my micro bathroom. I heard him bounce against different obstacles he didn't expect where his legs and arms found them.

  • 'how do you manage to take a shower in there?' he asked as he returned back.

  • 'it's a question of training,' I smiled and took my turn to get clean again.

As I finished showering, Paul had swept back in his jogging-trousers and hoodie snuggling himself in the sofa cushions.

  • 'have you got something to snack?' he asked, 'I feel really hungry.'

  • 'thinking about your storage limitations I would propose this custard I prepared for you.'

  • 'oooh, is it vanilla and chocolate?'

  • 'well guessed!'

  • 'I love both!' He grabbed the bowl and asked :'and what do you eat?'

  • 'I thought about us both eating from this, maybe...'

  • 'I feel like I could eat this all alone!' he smiled, 'got a spoon for me?'

  • 'I'll fetch us two spoons...'

We ended up on the couch with him holding the bowl on his legs and both of us eating from it. He was literally inhaling the custard. I didn't expect this because I used a whole litre of milk preparing this. As he complained the whole time how complicated it is currently for him to get some food in, this was a total change. I barely had a chance to get some spoons full for myself.

  • 'this tasted great,' he patted his belly and burped loudly as the bowl had emptied, 'got more?

  • 'I didn't expect you to get all this in...'

  • 'me neither!' he admitted, 'but it tasted so good and went in so easy that I coulnd't stop.' he burped loudly and giggled, 'I was barely able to get any food down the last three days -- this was a real surprise for me.'

He rubbed his belly proudly, 'and I feel like eating more!'

  • 'okay -- do you feel like sweet or spicy?'

  • 'I fell like lasagna!' gargling sounds from inside his bloated belly seemed to agree with this.

  • 'we may order some food.'

  • 'let's take the Italian delivery,' his eyes turned shiny.

We fetched the card and he choose a big, spicy lasagna and two bottles of Coke. I choose a pizza Napoli. No idea what he suddenly wanted to do with all this food:

I ordered the stuff -- as always they told me that our order will last half an hour.

We sat together on the couch -- Paul had switched on the TV -- some gameshow was running on low volume.

He snuggled to my side and burped silently in my ear, 'know what I am feeling right now?'

  • 'no concrete idea -- tell me!'

  • 'I feel somethings moving in my butt,' he smiled sheepishly.

  • 'should we prepare for something big to come?'

  • 'no, I don't think so -- it's just moving, you know?'

  • 'can you describe this a bit more precise?'

  • 'it feels like something big is trying to push closer to my hole, really!'

  • 'does it succeed?

  • 'It feels like it is to wide to get there.'

  • 'how can you tell this?'

  • 'it bumps against something deep in my hips. It is quite a circular pressure. Then it slides back again.'

  • 'You think that your shit is too wide to slide through your hips.'

  • 'it is quite this feeling,' he agreed.

  • 'do you like it'

  • 'kind of, yeah!' he rubbed his belly, 'I like holding back and now I found another tool to hold back.'

  • 'don't you fear that it might never come out?'

  • 'naaah, how long it ever took -- it always came out in the end. It squeezes out somehow at some point.'

  • 'have you ever had the situation that you were in an hurry to shit?'

  • 'uhmmm, I had urges of variable intensity and some were really hard, but in the end it was always me who decided when to shit,' he said proudly.

  • 'so we don't need an emergency protocol or something like this for our filming?'

  • 'for sure, no! - I can tell you in the morning if I need to come over in the evening and most of the time I tell you several days in advance by when it get's serious.'

  • 'that's good to know -- so I got time to charge up the cameras.'

  • 'you want to film me shitting with several cameras?'

  • Let's make your shit more epic than it already will be -- different angles, closeups and all that stuff.'

  • 'wow!'

  • 'you do the shitting and I do the camera work and editing.' I replied, 'afterwards you get a small film with kind of a preview and the real one can be found on your Onlyfans or MyDirtyHobby-profile, where people pay to watch it'

  • 'I don't have something like this.'

  • 'Yeah, but you should ! - I propose that I make one for you and do the administrative work for this.'

  • 'you would do this for me?'

  • 'not for free, really...'

  • 'ah, that's okay -- you're doing whole the work to keep my personality a secret. I think, that's worth enough to get half of the profit:'

  • 'glad that you propose this,' I smiled,' I also had some kind of 50 percent-idea...'

  • 'or do you want to have more?'

  • 'ah, no, no, fifty-fifty is more than enough and I hope that it's also enough for you.

  • 'I don't expect anything, so, I can only win!'

...Paul is quite a wise guy...

The bell rang. The Italian delivery brought his goods.

Pauls visit developed to a 'let's try out what people could possibly all do on a couch'-event.

Actually we were lying in the cushions , our food on our knees, slowly munching the stuff down. The program changed and some spaceship and it's pathetic crew went to places where no-one ever went before. Obviously this was a 'the big spacehip'-night.

This made a nice background to our evening and helped in the moments where no words were spoken.

Paul was eating kind of slow and cautious for his standards.

All of sudden he mumbled with his mouth full of food,: 'how did you found out that you are gay?'

  • 'depends what you mean exactly with 'found out''

  • 'what do you mean, then?'

  • 'I always fancied males and I always tried to be close to my male friends of any age as long as I can remember -- By the time I got into school I also sorted out that I don't like it that much to be close to girls, but it was at the age of 15 when I found out that intimate stuff with other males was called gay sex.'

  • 'really?'

  • 'I had no words for it and nobody around me was talking about it. Back then nobody told us about the options a sexual life may offer.'

  • 'you never had sex with a girl?'

  • 'there were some efforts from both directions but they very early turned out truly disastrous'

  • 'I don't know if I'm gay.'

  • 'is this still necessary to know?'

  • 'we're having sex together -- this could be called 'being gay''

  • 'it may as well be called 'being bisexual''

  • 'maybe I am bisexual...'

  • 'I don't bother anymore about these definitions. - the only thing that counts is if they are interested in starting something with me or not. It needs no definition to have fun together.'

  • 'But, when I get excitement from my asshole -- doesn't this mean that I am gay or bisexual?'

  • 'call it what you want -- for me you're a guy whose hole gives him a lot of fun and who has a filthy thing going on -- and this guy has found someone to have fun with him on this.'

  • 'What shall I tell Betsy?'

  • 'doesn't she already know all necessary things she needs to know?'

  • 'what do you mean?'

  • 'she knows that we share some kind of sympathy and that we spend time together -- even for erotic stuff. And we spend a lot of time talking.'

  • 'Yes, but for her you're some kind of mentor for me.'

  • 'and this is quite right, isn't it?'

  • 'somehow you're right,' he smiled, 'I really like your mentoring!'

  • 'I will never tell her about our filthy activities and I will never show her pictures that will link you to filthy stuff you possibly did.'

  • 'so won't I!'

  • 'And the thing about your profile, photos and films -- it is necessary to keep your face, apartment, personal clothing and voice out of this. As long as we stick to these rules, she won't find out what else you're doing.

  • 'I think, that's right...'

  • 'and I don't expect you falling in love with me. We're partners in filthy stuff she won't be doing with you -- and she will never be interested in doing so.'

  • 'Yeah' she doesn't like my asshole -- she even never touches my butt when we're together.'

  • 'did you ever ask her for this?'

  • 'I tried to guide her hand but she pulled it back with a disgusted face.'

  • 'that's quite a clear signal!'

  • 'but I love her and she loves me -- she is a great partner and I want to spent my live with her!'

  • 'and this should be happening! I'm okay with this and -- to be open -- don't expect you to be stuck to me all the time...'

  • 'you think that I will kick you away?'

  • 'no -- I am happy with everything I can experience with you but I know that there's nothing for granted. It's the moment that counts.'

Silence -- even in my TV -- someone beamed from one spaceship to the other...

Some gargling sounds out of Pauls belly.

  • 'may I try one piece of your pizza?'

  • 'sure -- how's your lasagna tasting?'

  • 'have a taste, but not too much,' Paul smiled, 'I'm still quite hungry!'

  • 'you may explode any moment but still you try to get as much food as possible!'

  • 'Hey! I'm a young man -- and young men need lots of food for a good performance, he mumbled with his mouth full of pizza napoli. Then he patted on his bloated belly and belched loudly -- the smell of Lasagna filled the room.

Oh, how much I forgot what it is like to have a meal with a man in his twenties when he tries to be funny...

Paul returned on his lasagna -- well on what was left from a portion that could easily be meant for two persons. He was eating slowly and made lots of pauses.

  • 'it looks like you're getting full, finally...'

  • 'not yet, but I'm close to it -- but the lasagna is really good and I feel still hungry.'

  • 'take your time...' meanwhile it looked to me as if he was choking down the bites - or as if he was swallowing them down several times because they were coming back up his throat. But he seemed to be happy with his situation.

Then he sat up in the couch very straight and made a concentrated face. All of sudden he burped massively! -'that needed to come out...' he smiled happily, 'the pushing in my butt is getting much harder,' he commented with a thoughtful face, 'not in a kind that my shit is coming out but my hole is swelling up.' ... 'would you mind, lying again under the toilet seat licking on my hole while I continue eating?'

  • 'I'm not sure if all this is just a trick to have full access on all food for you alone.'

  • 'maybe, it is also this,' he smiled sheepishly, 'but it is worth it, I promise!'

  • 'well, then...' I laid out a new towel besides the couch, fetched the toilet seat and installed me with the seat on it.

Paul went over me. His massively swollen sphincter was forced out of his butt, sexily framed by his small sitting muscles already as he was standing over my face. As he lowered his butt on the seat, his butt-cheeks widened and gave room for his asshole to grow even bigger. A small opening appeared in its centre giving access to his anal canal. I instantly sealed my lips to his butthole as he arrived on the toilet seat. His silent moans showed me that I did exactly the right thing.

With his hole being relaxed I had an easy game to push my tongue in his anal canal and fondle the deep folds of bowel tissue that began to excrete sweet tasting anal slime. Paul moans turned louder -- but he obviously had begun to continue eating. That sounded more like his moans signalised about the superb taste of his lasagna, but not about what my mouth was doing on his hole.

He was eating slowly and chewing thoroughly before swallowing while I was sucking on his anal ring swelling more and more into my face, sticking my tongue as deep as possible into his hole and trying to suck his insides out.

  • 'that's so hot,' Paul moaned, 'everything feels so hot and warm right now!' ... 'my shit is pushing so hard from inside but it is not moving...'

He swallowed another bite and took a break from eating. His hips were moving like he was stretching out his belly by making a hollow back. That gave much easier access to my tongue to get deeper inside his bowels. All of sudden, he burped loudly. The insides of his anal canal bulged into my mouth and for a second, the tip of my tongue felt the bitterness of his shit-column.

-'can you suck harder?' he grunted, obviously trying to keep his rectal tissue bulging in my mouth. I did my best to follow his wish. His moans signalled that I did exactly the right thing for him.

He continued eating while I sucked more and more of his anal tissue out of his gaping hole. His hole must have looked enormously sexy by then but I had my mouth sealed to it and was quite busy to not having my nose sealed shut by his bulging sphincter.

Sucking on his slimy anal tissues shot me in seventh heaven and made his hole hanging out of his butt more and more. From time to time there were weak contractions of his asshole -- those were the moments when a new glob of presumingly precum dribbled on my chest.

Paul emitted moans and grunts of delight while he was chewing on his lasagna, or, maybe already my pizza -- that had no importance anymore.

From time to time he took a break from eating and silently shifted his hips like he used to do when he wants to avoid his shit coming out. In this silence gargling noises could be heard from inside his belly. In the end he was always burping, but also pushing his rectal insides out into my willingly sucking mouth. In these moments my tongue could touch his shit-collumn for a short moment. For me it seemed as if this monster was slowly moving closer to the exit of his bowels with every of his efforts to push his hole into my mouth.

But this doesn't count for me by that time -- sucking on his slime emitting hole bulging into my wide open mouth was the thing for now and it could go on forever.

Now I heard the noise of the pizza box sliding -- obviously he was now for my pizza. The gargling noises inside of his belly turned somehow louder and appeared more often.

He took another break from eating and moaned, 'man, I need to fart!'

Without waiting for my reply he began push out the insides of his wide gaping hole harder than before -- at first with no other effect than his rectal insides forcefully filling my whole mouth. Than, he grunted again and all of sudden a rumbling vibration shook his pelvic floor as his hole parted even wider to give room to a long fart that somehow made it's way past his enormous shit load. Its force filled my mouth and lungs as his hole sealed my mouth and I had no choice than breathing his stink out of my nose. The dark, earthy aroma made my dick jump in anticipation.

  • 'ahhh,' Paul sighted, just to take a second, even harder grunt to push out more gas. This time his hole parted so wide that my nose was also sealed. Another fart passed by his shit column, forcing my lungs to expand to their maximum. The fart was so forceful that his whole body was vibrating. Obviously these vibrations also made his shitload move closer to my tongue. Licking his load would be easy right now but I was really busy to get his gas out of my lungs. I began feeling really dizzy and needed to turn my head to the side to take some breaths of fresh air. Meanwhile another fart was booming with a strange hissing, vibrating sound out of his wide gaping hole. When it ended a wet creaking sound could be heard coming out of Pauls rectum. Obviously the pressure in his shitload was increasing. His protruding anus was hanging out of his crack far too low or me to turn my head back into licking position.

-' if we want to continue with this, I need to change the legs of this chair to some longer ones...'

-'oh?'

-'...just to make sure that I can breathe,'

-'does it take long?'

-'just a minute or so, nut you have to stand up for that moment.'

-'ah, I undestand,' Paul lifted his butt from the toilet seat and stood up. The sight of his massively swollen hole framing just another frame of bloating haemorrhoidal tissue around the now visible tip of dark, knobbly pieces of shit caked together to a massive object stuck in Pauls rectum was priceless. His small butt-cheeks were pushed to both sides to give space for this monstrous excretion organ.

I got up to change the legs of the chair to the set of slightly longer ones.

  • 'I can't wait to continue,' he moaned, rubbing his juicy hole with one hand.

  • 'so do I!'

  • 'do have something let that I can eat?' obviously all Italian food went down into Pauls guts.

  • 'are you still hungry?'

  • 'Yeah, somehow, I am still hungry,' he looked around in the room, 'and it's really great fun to snack on something while you are sucking on my hole!'

  • 'well, for such a case I have some chips stored in the kitchen drawer.

He walked over to my small kitchen -- the view of his giant hole rubbing sexily between his butt-cheeks made me want to come.

  • 'oh! You have a family value pack of Pringels,' he shouted out in exitement and pulled out five rolls of chips to take them over to the couch.

  • '...and you plan to eat them all???'

  • 'yes, why not?' Paul smiled

  • 'your shit has moved a good piece closer to your hole while you ate the Italian stuff.'

  • 'I fell this, but it is still blocked in my hips,' he insured me, 'and I love the situation of you sucking on my hole while I am snacking and watching TV,' he smiled and ripped off the foil that packed the Pringels rolls together, 'it's time for you to get back under the toilet seat!' Paul commanded and I did as I was told. The longer legs at the toilet chair turned out as a really good idea. Now I was able to even look at Pauls magnificent hole as well as seal my mouth to this overgrown shitting organ.

As I restarted licking over this inferno of bloated anal muscle and slimy anal tissue Paul moaned as if he had been waiting for this for hours. His hole tensed for a short moment and his erection dribbled a big glob of slime on my chest. He grunted as he pushed out his rectal tissues a bit more for me and I, of course, knew what I was supposed to do with this tasty offer.

I heard someone opening a Pringels-roll and munching on some chips. I sealed my lips to Pauls hole and sucked so hard as if I could suck the chips through his bowels into my mouth. He moaned in shivers as he gave his rectum a push to make it grow into my mouth.

The sound of munching chips doesn't stop -- I also heard him opening a cola bottle to sip from it. The gas in the liquid made him burp loudly and instantly push his butthole closer to my mouth. I tried to get my tongue as deep inside as possible. His haemorrhoidal tissues nearly filled the gap in his hole, but my tongue found it's way through the slimy folds of rectal tissue to the tip of his turd. The thought that this might be processed pizza he ate several weeks ago, made me crazy. I sucked as hard on his hole as I could and simultaneously push my tongue as deep inside as possible. He grunted loud as a short spasm of his sphincter made his erection dribble some more slime on my chest. Then he shifted his hips again and grunted to force another fart out of his bowels. His whole pelvis vibrated as he forced a long fart in my lungs. This time I didn't blow it out of my nose but pushed the gas back into his rectum. This made Paul whimper from surprise and lust, 'you're such a bastard, he grunted as he tried to push his fart back into my lungs. More slimy dribbling on my chest. This time I let the gas pass out of my nose. A I stuck my tongue back in his hole, his shit-collumn had obviously moved closer to the exit. Now I was able to push my tongue between the turd and the stretched out wall of his rectum. I must have triggered his prostate because he began to whimper and my chest began to get really wet. The flexing of his hole turned into a faster mode. I sensed that he had begun to fondle on his erect dick from time to time -- but not too intense as if he was frightened that he might get his orgasm too fast.

Instead he decided to better eat some more chips and continue moaning as I gently pushed my tongue against his sintered shit bulbs. Not that I was able to move this massive weight, but he felt this for sure as his reactions signalled.

I filled my lungs with fresh air and sealed my lips around his protruding hole as I blew this air into his bowels. He again whimpered in surprise and instantly tried to push it back out. I gave him a small fight as I pushed the air back in over and over again. He peed fat splashes of urine on my chest every time he strained to get the air out of his bowels. As I finally gave way to his gas, his hole opened real wide and his shit slid a big closer to my mouth. 'it is so fat in my hips!' he whimpered and another spurt of piss splattered on my chest. His hole tensed as he obviously began to stroke his dick, but it didn't reach to get close. The fecal mass in Pauls hips took so much space that his pelvic skin hat no flexibility left. Good for me as I still hat easy access to his haemorrhoidial ring lying around the tip of his turd like a frame of soft, tasty cushions. Sucking on Pauls flexing hole made these swell up even bigger and tastier.

'I can't stand this any more!' he grunted lustfully as his asshole began to contract in quick salvos and his throbbing erection pumped everything it could find on my living room floor. My bath-towel was barely able to suck up all this slime and piss. During his orgasm, his hole contracted so strong that it formed a hard, bulgy ring. As always, I was surprised by the size and strength of his sphincter, even as his hole was no longer able to really close completely. This gave me a good chance to continue sucking on it as hard as I could.

It only took me a few strokes on my dick and also my sperm was shooting up high in the air. During my orgasm I sucked so hard on Pauls hole that he whimpered that he couldn't stand it anymore.

It took us some time to relax after this session. I had the best view of my life, staring at his half gaping, red swollen hole presenting the tip of Pauls shitload. Only the wetness of the soaked bath towel was a bit disturbing.

It took another fife minutes until Paul was able to stand up. My beautiful sight disappeared as he lifted his butt from the seat. His asshole was not only swollen, but also his pelvic floor was back bulging out between his butt-cheeks. But this time extremely wide -- so wide that his hole was still far too narrow to let his stool pass. He tried to tensed his widely parted sitting muscles but instead of forcing his pelvic floor back in, he only compressed his swollen asshole that now appeared like two monstrous lips stuck in his crack. He moaned loudly as his dick sprung up to re-erect.

  • 'my shit is pushing so hard on my prostate,' he complained, 'don't know how to piss now...'

He went to my bathroom with somehow shaky legs. He was often kind of goofy in his movements but now he appeared unsure about how to walk.

Meanwhile I converted the couch to a double bed.

I took like an eternity until I heard the weak splatter of urine from my bathroom. He had left the door open and stood over the toilet with his legs wide open. Between his gaping butt-cheeks his pink swollen asshole was perfectly visible. As he finally pinched off his piss, his sphincter contracted to such a big knot that his butt-cheeks were pushed apart a bit more -- a damn sexy sight.

  • 'my shit is pushing so hard in my hips that I barely couldn't piss -- and I don't really feel my legs -- they are like numb.' This would explain his goofy walk.

  • 'maybe your shit is also pushing on the nerve which is responsible for your legs.'

  • 'it must be so massive! -I never before had effects like these!'

  • 'I hope this won't last forever,' he moaned as he crawled awkwardly onto my bed.'

We ended up with me lying on my back and him half at my side and half on my chest watching TV. The Pringels and Coke were at hand and we silently fondled on each others.

Paul had discovered my left nipple and was now playing with it and I was stroking his butt. My hand was already in his trousers sliding lovingly over his almost hairless sitting muscles and gliding occasionally in the trench between them. Paul was tickling my nipple that stood out hard and triggered nice feelings in my chest.

He changed the position of his legs to give me easier access to his hole. It was a bliss to hold his massively swollen asshole in my hand or massage it carefully from time to time -- and he really liked both, as his throbbing dick told me knocking at my hips.

  • 'I shouldn't have sucked so hard on your hole.'

  • 'why not? -- it felt soo great!'

  • 'Your asshole is really swollen up.'

  • 'that's no problem -- it feels great having it rubbing in my crack and I am used to it because it is swollen like this every time after I took a shit.'

He docked onto my right side. His slime-covered dick, still half erect and slowly pulsing rested on my hips and I had my hand on his butt. He had pulled up his right leg resting on my body -- that gave me easy access to everything I would have ever dreamt of to fondle.

I heard from his breathing that he had snoozed away. I took a sip from the Coke and checked out which extraterrestical encounter was currently going on in the TV.

I had an extraterrestical encounter of my own as my hand was lying on this blown out asshole that was lazily contracting in the palm of my hand. I always liked to fondle other guys assholes but this one was like a life-form of it's own. My hand felt as if Pauls sphincter was searching for it and was welcoming everything I did on it with my fingers.

Slowly massaging this soft but also extremely muscular structure had some hypnotic character and he acted in his sleep as if he had some nice dreams from this.

From the inside of his hole his loaf of shit was pushing from time to time. Not in a way that his pelvic floor bulged out but I clearly felt the skin around his hole hardening from time to time as it moved closer to his body's exit. This was kind of the heaven I always thought about -- well, at least for this moment.

I also swept away in a light sleep. Somehow I found myself in a dream where I was feeding some fish in a park. They were very trusting, expecially one of the fish in particular - it was a large carp - was almost sucking on my hand with its mouth.

I came back to reality by some soft moans close to my ear and felt the sensation of Pauls sphincter slowly sliding over the palm of my hand. I behaved as being still asleep to check out what he had in mind right now.

From what I felt going on at his hole his muscle was relaxing from time to time - giving room to a gape quite as big as my hand itself -- then his hole slowly contracted again, rubbing between the shit pushing from the inside and my skin.

My erection was stuck under his thigh, searching for some relief -- and Paul seemingly was working on this by slowly rubbing himself on my dick.

Needless to mention that his erection was lazily pumping its snot in the gap between us.

I never had an asshole fondling my hand -- I decided to stay still and enjoy this sensation for longer. Paul was obviously in intensifying the feeling of his asshole stuck between his shit and my hand. I heard him holding his breath from time to time and silently grunting as he tried to push his shit against the palm of my hand. As he did so, the contracting of his ring muscle went faster.

I pretended that I woke up by his manipulations and shifted the pressure of my hand in his crack. Satisfied moans at my ear. As I was pressing on his hole as he obviously wanted it he began rubbing his dick at my hips.

  • 'is there someone going for another round?'

  • 'uhmmm -- just go on like this -- I want to keep in this moment.'

This 'moment' went on for quite a long time -- we stayed tucked in each other, lazily fondling each other quite private parts -- more like comforting that driving it to any kind of height.

The sensation of his swollen hole gaping and closing over the bulky surface of his turd on the palm of my hand was exactly what I ever wanted to feel while watching something boring on TV. Our play left us like this for, like it felt, an endless time...

  • 'I need to piss,' Paul crawled off the bed and went over to the toilet. His gaping but-cheeks gave his butt some extra sexiness. I got a nice sight on his back as he stood over the toilet trying to let his pee run. Although kind of still sunk in between his ass-cheeks, his hole could be seen visibly gaping -- and contracting from time to time. I think, it took him so long until he was able to pee because he had to find the right tension of his asshole -- like he couldn't piss with it totally gaping neither when it's clenched shut. By the time he kept it half-gaping, his piss began dribble in the toilet as a thin, dark-yellow, endless stream.

After several minutes of rinsing piss he pinched off the last drops - he grunted lustfully as his hole contracted.

  • 'what a beautiful sight,' I commented the show.

  • 'you nifty thing watched me whole the time,' he giggled as he came back with his half erect dick dangling.

  • 'I would like to record your hole working on your load,'

  • 'but you can see this life as long as you want,' he turned around and bent forward presenting me his gaping hole.

  • 'naah, I'd like to use it as a teaser for your video profile for upcoming things.'

  • 'that's good idea!' be stayed bent forward, 'do your job if you like to...'

I fetched my phone and took a short clip of him spreading his butt with both hands and letting his hole contract slowly over and over again. His hands gave a good idea about how big his hole was opening.

  • 'that's enough for the internet!' 30 seconds of film should do the job.

  • 'fine -- let us get back on the mattress.'

Seconds later we were back snuggled together. The atmosphere was still loaded with sexual desires but for the moment we lazily watched TV. Paul was snacking on some Pringels.

Later I had his head lying on my chest and we slowly drifted over into a happy, deep sleep. At some point the TV decided that it was bored and switched off.

The morning dawned when I woke up by the spattering sound of piss from my bathroom. Then a silent grunt from Paul as he finished pissing.

I was lying on my back still half asleep when he came back and docked to me half besides my body, half lying on me. I felt his half erect dick on my hips and the wetness of his glands -- maybe from piss, maybe from leaking precum.

I took him in my arms and we drifted back to sleep.

Some hours later I woke up by the impression that someone was fondling on my dick and that my hand had miraculously found a magic spot between Pauls asscheeks. Or was it because he was rubbing his throbbing erection on me?

His strong sphincter slowly contracted in the palm of my hand. From time to time Paul relaxed his hole so far that it opened up and gave access to the hard, knobbly tip of the turd-monster sitting in his ass. His pelvic floor was not really protruding yet but the area between his ass-cheeks was kind of widened from the inside. I had my hand lying easily between his sitting muscles and enjoyed the flexing of his asshole.

Obviously Paul hadn't checked that I was already awake -- he pushed his hips back against my hand and grunted silently in my ear as he tried to push his shit column a bit more against my hand. He also did his best on my dick and the rubbing and wetness of his erection on my body couldn't be ignored.

So I answered his begging and grabbed a bit harder on his asshole.

  • 'uuuuuuhhhhmmmm.' he moaned in my ear and pressed his hips tight on me. His sphincter contracted to a big knot pressing against my hand, literally begging to fondle it harder. There was nothing I preferred to do more! His asshole behaved like a being of it's own pulsing it's well developed muscles in my hand.

His moans went faster and more tormented as he rubbed his hips faster on mine. Right now my dick was reduced to the status of a handle -- obviously he had too much to do with his own sexual triggers -- and I did my best to enhance this.

Only seconds later his asshole began to contract heavily and he pumped his orgasm in warm shots on my chest. I pressed my hand against his hole as hard as I could -- he appreciated this by pressing is hips harder and holding his body on mine tightly.

Then a long sigh and his whole body relaxed. His asshole softened and invited me for more fondling. The silky skin of his relaxed muscle easily filled the palm of my hand. A pleasure stroking on its soft tissue.

Paul sighted and remembered my erection in his hand and began giving me some reward while I massaged on his hole. His dick was slowly pulsing between our bodies, obviously preparing for a second round. Paul managed to relax his hole so far that it opened up for more opportunities.

I led my fingers slide along the thick, bulgy border of his muscle and slowly pushed my fingers in the tight gap between his turd and the wall of his rectum.

Paul answered with soft moans and slight contractions of his gaping hole.

I managed to slide all fingers of my hand under the border of his sphincter. From the impression I got, his shit load had widened massively since our last encounter. I slightly pushed on it -- this was answered by his muscle contracting around my fingers and a warm glob of slime emitting from his erection.

His shit load was sitting so firmly in his rectum that my fingers could easily feel his tailbone through the tissue of his bowels. Every time I gave his shit-column a push, Paul moaned and his erection hit my hips emitting more slime. Obviously I triggered his prostate quite well.

But also his bowels tried to add some pressure on Pauls sexual centre.

I sensed that his shit load began slowly pushing more forceful against my fingers and that his pelvic floor and hole began to push out more prominently.

I decided that it would me more fun to feel this from the outside and pulled my fingers out of his hole.

And, yeah, the slowly emerging bulge with the contracting ring muscle sitting on top was a major kick in the palm of my hands. As always it was great fun to massage and push against it and Paul was rubbing his hips on my body. This time he also managed to take care of my dick -- and he did it quite well!

His moans intensified as the bulge between his ass-cheeks slowly protruded further. This time it was no longer able to fit inside of my hand. His asshole was contracting forcefully but every time it relaxed, it opened up wider than before. I tried to push against his load but this time the movement was quite too forceful. It just continued bloating out of his hips, no matter how hard his asshole contracted. His moans had turned louder and faster and so were his hips pressing harder against the wet spot that had formed on my body. His hand grabbed my dick quite hard as he still tried to jack on it even as he was already close to be overtaken by his own lust.

His pelvic floor was now bulging at a size and width as if a third butt-cheek had grown out of his ass. He tried to clench his seating muscles together as hard as he could but it doesn't seem to have any effect on the force pushing out his shit. He had his sphincter contracted as hard as he could and it was still able to nearly close when he did so. The impression of feeling his bulgy shit load through the stretched out skin of his pelvic floor was almost extraterrestical. I rubbed my hand on the massively hardened knot of his ring muscle and brought Paul closer to his boiling point.

He pressed his hips harder against me, shivering and shaking uncontrolled as he was jacking my dick like there was no tomorrow.

The he grunted loudly and his hole began to contract even harder in a series of very fast spasms. I came hard on my chest and he flooded the space between our bodies with his lust. His contracting asshole intensified the pressure on his prostate, so it seemed. His dick was pumping semen for a, what it seemed, endless time.

Then Pauls whimpers turned more silent and the contractions of his hole appeared slower.

  • 'That was so hot,' he finally whispered.

  • 'I can only confirm this! - seems that you're really full by now...' every time his hole relaxed, it gaped wider than my hand from Pauls shit pushing from the inside. Of course the muscle tried to close again every time this happened, but the contractions were kind of weak.

  • 'yeah, it's pushing in my ass like hell,' he moaned, 'but it seams to be stuck where it is right now.'

He was right -- actually there was no more pushing from inside of his rectum. But the bulge protruding from his pelvic floor was a lot wider than the last time I witnessed it.

I wondered how he would sit on this comfortably.

  • 'you've got the sexiest hole I've ever met on a guy,' I still gently fondled his hole.

  • 'can you please continue caressing my butt -- I love this sooo much!'

We stayed in this position -- his body docked to mine, rubbing his bloated belly and half erect dick on my body and me with my hand in his gaping ass-crack gently fondling his tired asshole gaping from a turdload of shit, held back for weeks.

After a long hour Paul said, 'I'm afraid that I need to get back to my flat -- I've got some programming to do for the university.'

He slowly unknotted his body from mine and turned over to sit up on the border of my bed.

  • 'Uhhh! - that's enormous!' he hissed as he sat up and his shit column pushed back in his rectum. He fished for his clothes to get them on without standing up. Well the last step -- pulling his trousers up -- needed him to stand up. His butt was a great turn on to watch while he was doing so. His little butt-cheeks were pushed far to both sides by his massively protruding pelvic floor that took the same space in the middle of Pauls butt than both butt-cheeks together. His asshole was visibly tensed but still gaping as wide as a tennis-ball on top of this bulge. Even as he pulled up his boxer shorts the bulge could be prominently seen. Paul patted this bump with his hand, 'this will leave some nice decorations in my pants,' he smiled and pulled up his jogging trousers, 'shall I fix us some breakfast?'

  • 'great idea,' I said as I also stumbled over the border of my bed.

He prepared a coffee for me -- he preferred to drink a glass of water -- and put some stuff on the table he found in the fridge.

He moaned as he sat at the table, 'this is quite the hottest state I've been in so far, 'he commented, 'every push I get on my butt makes me leak more precum!'

He ate his toast as if there was still some space left in his body. The size of his belly spoke another language.

  • 'what do you think, how many days will it last until you will shit this out?'

  • 'I don't know -- i've never been in this situation,' he replied, 'I am as full as I've never been before but my shit is stuck in my hips by now and it doesn't seem to move further so far...'

  • 'so, you want to see how far you can go with this?'

  • 'yeah, feels like a good idea for me,' he nodded, 'I have a week of work sitting at my computer. So I am sure that it won't come out, however hard it will push.'

  • 'you know that you need to come over to my studio by the time you're ripe?'

  • 'Of course! I will ride on my bike -- the saddle will hold my shit back from sliding out when it's getting serious.'

  • 'okay, - we can do the filming only in the evening...'

  • 'and I will sit at my computer till the evening or longer if necessary,' he promised. 'I've already texted the guys who want to get shit from me. There will two packages arriving for you soon...'

  • 'let's get your business blooming,' I smiled and sipped from my coffee.

Paul walked a little wide-legged as he left my apartment soon after.

I spent the rest of this Sunday restoring my apartment, especially my couch that was more than soaked from Pauls body liquids right in the middle of the seat. A shame that I had to clean this away -- the milky smell of his sperm made an irresistible aphrodisiac. So in the end I also had some more of my sperm to clean up, but this doesn't really matter any more...

It seemed that Paul was quite busy with his programming during that day -- only in the late evening I received a message from him: 'damn, my shit is pushing so hard that I am leaking whole the time -- I already ruined three boxers for my happy customers :)'

On Monday morning I got another one: 'I woke up several times during the night because my shit was pushing so hard at my hole -- but it couldn't come out. That's really weird!'

I had fetched Pauls fan mail and two priority packages for freezing goods from the postbox on my way to the studio. And texted him that there's some stuff arrived for him.

He asked me if I may put the cooling packages in the fridge at my studio and maybe bring him the letters to his flat on my way home.

  • 'hmmm -- we're getting lazy, don't we?'

  • 'Lots of programming to do -- and want to stay seated as much as possible...'

  • 'ah, okay -- I will pop by in the evening...'

There was some time left between customer appointments. That gave me the opportunity to prepare the filming set , set the lights and check all cameras necessary to have everything ready for Pauls showdown -- whenever this would be.

In the evening I rang at Paul's apartment. It took some time until the buzzer opened the door. I climbed the stairs and found the door of his flat left ajar. When I visited him the times before he was always waiting at the door.

I found him in his room in front of his computer.

  • 'lots of work to do?'

  • 'yeah, kind of,' he replied, 'but also necessary to sit on my butt.'

  • 'trying to hold your shit in?'

  • 'it's more like avoiding to have it sliding out more.'

  • 'what do you mean?'

  • 'every time I get up fro the chair my shit is slowly moving out of my butt -- but when I sit down again it is not really moving back in.'

  • 'oh, okay... - here's your envelopes,' he opened one of them and took out a boxer short.

  • 'I will show you,' Paul lifted his butt for a moment from the chair and slid down his jogging trousers. The he sat back and stepped out of it. Then he grabbed an old towel, lifted his butt again and peeled off the boxer shorts from his butt. The seat of this shorts was literally caked to his shit column and as he peeled it off, it left a thick layer of dark shit worked in the fabric. He hastily layed out the towel on the seat and sat back.

He stepped out of the boxer shorts and folded it carefully before he put it in an envelope lying on his table -- there were visible wet stains in the front of these trousers.

He took the new boxer shorts and stepped in. as he lifted his butt to pull it up I saw the changes at his crack. His shit had no longer a rounded tip. It was flattened from permanently pushing against the chair. It hang out of his butt in a quite cylindrical form at the width of about four or five inches, framed by the bulgy border of this gaping asshole.

  • 'Uuuh! That's massive!'

  • 'It's never been bigger!' Paul tensed his sphincter that was slowly and as it seemed, painfully closing the opening in his butt. As it did so, Paul grunted and a big glob of precum oozed in his boxer shorts, 'it's soo hot,' he moaned and pulled the trousers fully up. He grunted again and his half erect dick tented the front of his trousers obviously pushing another glob of slime in the fabric. His face showed an expression of pain and pleasure.

  • 'your customers must be extremely happy!'

  • 'I hope so,' he moaned, 'look, what's happening when I sit down,' he lowered his butt on the seat and as it touched the seat, he moaned again. At the same time a large splash of spicy smelling piss soaked his underwear, 'almost done,' he moaned and slowly rubbed his ass on the seat. Then he opened a new envelope and took out another boxer shorts.

He stood up and peeled the now ruined underwear from his butt -- the seat of his trousers was freshly caked in shit at the exact size of his gaping asshole.

He stepped in the new boxer shorts and repeated the procedure of flooding the fabric with precum and piss, followed by smearing his shit in it.

It only took him a minute to ruin the trousers so much that he changed to a new one.

  • 'so, you established a serial production?'

  • 'yeah, if you wait some minutes, you may take all envelopes to the post office for me?'

  • 'looks like you changed to smearing your shit into these pants instead of shitting it out some day,' the tip of his turd had turned into a contour-less surface from being rubbed in countless boxer shorts.

  • 'Yeah, but it works so damn nice like this!' he pulled up a new shorts and sat back on the chair, to impregnate the front with slime and concentrated piss and rub his shit in the fabric.

Some minutes later he had finished nearly all envelopes I brought for him. He took out a pair of white briefs from the last one,' the guy who sent me these wanted them heavily loaded,' he groaned as he sat back on the chair, 'I think I will keep them on for this night.' The front of these briefs immediately looked as if they already couldn't take any more. But this obviously doesn't bother him. He pulled up his jogging trousers and grunted lustfully as he sat back on the chair -- all this efforts for a happy customer...

  • 'what about making the film by tomorrow evening?' he proposed all of sudden.

  • 'sure, - do you thing that you will be ripe for shitting this out by tomorrow?'

  • 'I think that it should reach an end' -- he moaned -'I barely can stand this almost permanent leaking of quite everything.' He pressed his butt against the seat and a wet spot formed in his crotch, 'it goes on like this whole the time...' the expression in his face was something between being annoyed and pure lust, 'Betsy is coming back from a seminary on Friday and I don't want her to see me like this, understand?'

  • 'Yeah of course I do -- Betsy is not me,' I smiled, 'tomorrow I'll be available for you from three in the afternoon and whole the night if you'd like to..'

  • 'thanks, man -- and thanks a lot for taking these to the post office...'

I left his flat with a bunch of about twenty envelopes or better: almost 20 underpants soaked with precum and piss and caked from his shit -- concerning his price structure, Paul has earned some 4000 Euro just with these. Well somehow a young man needs to finance his studies...

I was on my way to bed as phone beeped with a message from Paul: 'sorry that I didn't really had time for you -- I am deeply into programming and this constipation overdrive really drives me mad!'

  • 'no problem -- anyways it was hot to watch you preparing underwear :P -- looking forward to meet you tomorrow-'

  • 'seems like this will be a long night at the computer for me. I'm glad to sit on my ass ;)'

I got no idea how Paul could stand all this just for being constipated. I myself was already driven crazy by just watching him. I couldn't imagine what I would do in the situation he was actually stuck in...

Next morning in my shop I received another message from Paul: 'hey! I coded whole night . Finally all is working fine. I am tired like hell and take a sleep -- seeya later :)'

At three in the afternoon I had my last customer out of the shop and did some tidying up. The cameras needed for Paul were all charged and memory cards emptied.

I was in the back of my shop when I heard someone come through the front door pushing a bicycle, 'Hallo! Is everything ready for my show?'

It was Paul. He leaned his bike at the counter and came towards me, walking a little wide-legged, 'You won't believe me how hard this thing is pushing in my ass,' he moaned as he sat on my desk chair.

I went to the front door to lock it and hang the 'sorry, we are closed'-sign at it. Then I returned to him in the studio. He had already begun taking off his clothes. His upper body was already free when I entered the room. He kicked off his shoes and stood up to take off his trousers.

His massively bloated belly stuck out of his skinny torso like a barrel. His jogging trousers appeared somehow smudgy from his permanent leaking of liquids of all kind.

  • 'can you please take some pics of me in this briefs and how they look when I take them off?'

  • 'I can also film this if I may...'

  • 'good idea -- we should try both!'

I ordered him over to the studio background and turned on the lights. Then he led his jogging trousers slid down. The formally white briefs had turned in some kind of total mess -- in the front there were marks of dark yellow and grey spots -- I took some photos of these. Then he turned around -- a big brown mark was easily detectable trough the fabric of this briefs and as he pulled these trousers off his ass, he had a fat layer of dark brown shit sitting inside emitting its earthy aroma.

Of course I also took photos of this -- then I asked him to put the trousers back on and repeat his presentation for filming. We took an extremely hot shot -- this time he pulled the trousers down and presented his gaping hole for the camera. Then he tensed his asshole as hard as he could to make it close - or, more precise: closer than before. The poor, over-dilated and swollen muscle was only able to fulfil half of its duty helplessly flexing in front of the massive shit-load that was literally hanging out of Pauls boney ass. His pelvic skin was stretched hard by his holes efforts to cover his excrement. Obviously it was high time to let his load go!

I invited him to climb o the table I had prepared for filming. He went on his knees and pointed his butt towards me. There were cameras installed that filmed his butt in total from behind, from the side and in closeup. And there was even one that filmed his hips from the front. With me on an additional hand camera there should be enough material to cut an impressive film from his defecation.

Every viewangle offered a neutral background and his face could not be not seen.

I remembered him not to talk too much -- talking would make him identifiable -- I would have to cut out some comments but it's better not to have too much of them.

  • 'your crack is quite smeared with shit -- do you want to have it like this in the film?'

  • 'oh, good that you mention it -- can you fetch the oil tissues out of my backpack? I'd like to clean my hole before we film...'

I fetched his oil tissues and went on all fours. Then he began rubbing is crack clean. To my surprise he managed to tense his asshole forceful enough to get is nearly close. He grunted heavily as he did so -- obviously no easy job.

  • 'maybe I should help you a bit?' I proposed, 'so you can concentrate on closing your hole and I can do the cleaning job easier as I can see the target.'

  • 'Yeah,' he grunted and pushed the package of tissues over to me, 'let's do it this way'

Paul tensed his hole as hard as he could. He massaged his glands to give his hole an extra trigger to tense strong enough. Meanwhile I rubbed his trench and hole clean, following the deep folds in his crack to the cramping ring-muscle doing the almost impossible job to stretch his pelvic floor far enough to cover the tip of his protruding turd.

  • 'your rubbing makes me hot like hell,' Paul whimpered, 'you should finish in time or I will come on your equipment!'

  • 'okay, I'm finished!' I replied hastily, 'can you stay in this position until I have all cameras switched on? - like this we may start filming with your hole almost shut.'

  • 'okay,' he moaned, 'but do it fast -- I feel the pressure rising again!'

I started all cameras in no time and gave the command to begin his show. Paul went back on his knees and perfectly pointed his butt to the centre-camera. He grunted heavily as he still kept his hole cramped. It was more like flexing his hole in order to keep the visibly pushing turd in his butt -- what a hot sight for the beginning!

Then he relaxed his hole that opened quite fast to give room to the massive shit-collumn that wanted its way out of his rectum.

The tip of his turd had lost the knobbly structure one would normally expect. Well, this was the tribute to pay if you want to rub your shit in countless boxer shorts. But his turd was freshly covered with a wet sheen. Paul had kept his hole closed long enough to get his turds tip moist again, and this gave it quite a natural appearance.

He left his hole gaping from his shit for some minutes -- from time to time he grunted on his load. This made it move a little bit more in the opening of his gaping sphincter -- obviously not gaping wide enough for his shit as two folds appeared on both sides of his already massively swollen anal muscle. His butt cheeks were pushed to the sides by his protruding pelvic floor as he grunted his load out -- each grunt only made some millimeters but this gave his hole the time to adapt to the diameter that wanted to pass through.

The room was filled with the dark, earthy aroma I already knew so well from his shit.

His pelvic floor stretched out more and more between his sitting bones and changed to a tube-like shape. His sphincter was enthroned on the tip of this three-inch-long structure and was struggling to dilate sufficiently. The frame of his overstretched asshole had turned into a veiny bulging monster, nearly wide enough to let this massive load pass through, but there was still some work to be done.

Pauls grunts became louder and harder in order to reach this target. Little gas bubbles were appearing around his turd -- the pressure in his rectum must be enormously high!

I was busy to check all cameras were still running correctly and took closeups of his hole.

Now, his grunts mixed with whimpers of pain and lust. It seemed that his pushing was turning into involuntarily cramps. The front camera got a good view on his semi erect dick shooting spurts of piss every time his muscles cramped to force his shit out.

His pelvic skin was stretched to such an extreme that it appeared like paper-thin. His veins were visibly bulging from the pressure he had built up and his haemorrhoidal ring had turned almost blue from being pumped up to it's maximum.

Paul did one last, loud grunt -- then he sighted happily -- all of sudden his stretched out hole and skin slid back to the level of his butt-cheeks. Just like it was a sock being pulled of a leg.

Now his turd was sticking uncovered out of his butt. At a good seven inches wide, it took up the entire surface between Paul's sinewy arse cheeks. The ring of his swollen asshole framed this monster at the thickness of a donut -- but, of course, a lot wider.

Paul took a break leaving this scenario stand for some minutes -- and I took the time to record closeups of his shit-monster stuck in his bum.

Then be returned on grunting his load through the opening of his hips. This was really hard work as it was working it's way out of Pauls butt at almost invisible slowness.

I had problems, concentrating on my camera work as my throbbing dick was almost constantly leaking in my pants.

I took closeups of the pulsing veiny structure formally known a Pauls asshole, framing the shit monster that was now slowly bent downward by its own weight.

A piece, some good 10 inches long broke off and fell on the ground.

It opened the sight on a wall of potato shaped boulders from dark brown, almost black colour stuck in Pauls rectum. Pauls asshole tried to flex but as he started again to grunt on his load, it had no chance to close.

The load still stuck in his butt was not as compact as the first loaf -- the boulders were moving slowly in his rectum as his grunts tried to push them out. They worked their way out one after the other. Their size varied from prune to grapefruit -- of course they were really smooth but also irregular shaped. They forced Pauls hole in all possible directions and made him whimper over and over.

Dribbles of sweat were running down his back, giving his skin a shiny appearance.

Pauls shit was moving faster by now -- there were loads of little black cherrie-shaped pebbles raining out of his monstrously gaping hole followed by thick chunks that forced his hole back to it's maximum width.

Every of Pauls grunts forced more of his stone-hard shit-lumps out and formed a mountain of dark brown, steaming rubble between his feet.

Now, he managed to flex his hole closed between his grunts. Only to force this veiny donut open again to its max to work out more of his weeks old waste.

Then he pushed his hole open with a very last grunt -- no more shit in his rectum, but his anal tissues filling the tasty opening of his hole with a red, slimy flower. He kept the pressure to let this view stay for some seconds. Then he sighted and flexed his hole close for the final time. The final scene would be the slime-covered, monstrously swollen donut of his overgrown asshole taking the whole space between Pauls little butt-cheeks.

  • 'can you help me to get up?' he whimpered, 'I am totally exhausted!'

I offered him a hand to change his position -- for the beginning he choose to just be sitting on the table and recover.

I took some closeups of the impressive mountain of shit, towering on my shooting table.

  • 'This shit will put a lot of people to shame!'

  • 'I think, this one is among my biggest,' Paul sighted.

  • 'maybe you can sit on the table with open legs with your shit between them.

  • 'that's a good idea!'

He moved his body, still goofy from his hard work, in the position I told him -- and it made quite an impressive sight. He tried to get his hips as close enough as possible but had visible problems to open his legs sufficiently. In the end, the mountain of shit covered the whole space of the triangle formed by his thighs to a height of his bellybutton.

Quite unbelievable that all this came out of his skinny body and a really impressive picture to give an indication of the quantities he had just produced.

  • 'I'm quite exhausted and hungry too,' Paul mentioned with a voice, still rough from all his grunting.

  • 'what about putting your work in the fridge and going over to my flat and have something nice from the Italian delivery, you like so much?'

  • 'Yeah, let's do this -- may I also stay at your place for the night?

  • 'keep in mind that I don't guarantee for anything!'

  • 'this is something I seriously count on,' he smiled and hopped off the table to get back in his clothes.

I took out the containers from the packages to fill in Pauls shit. It turned out that these containers were not really capable to take up all.

  • 'seems that we have too much of your goods to deliver...'

  • 'a pity, what can we do with this abundance?'

  • 'just an idea, but we may put it back where it comes from.'

  • 'you mean, stuffing my shit back in my ass???' Paul asked with eyes open wide.

  • 'why not?' I asked back, 'it's fresh, it's yours and your hole is still relaxed enough that I may stuff this back in.'

  • 'You want to enter my ass with your hands???'

  • 'It would be a good idea to do it this way in order to get these boulders back deep in your bowels...'

  • 'that's too much information for me for the moment,' Paul replied with a shaky voice, 'can we take the rest of my shit over your flat? I need some time to think about this plan...'


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate