My Best Friend, Part 6.

It had been a few weeks since my encounter with Barry and Steven. As much as we wanted to continue our dirty exploits, life seemed to pull us in different directions. I got a new job. Barry moved in with his girlfriend and her young son. Steven went on a long road trip. Not working with Randy anymore was killing me. We still talked now and then, and I would pop in every other week for D&D, but we had no alone time anymore. Best I could do was nab some socks, maybe a pair of dirty underwear if I was lucky.

I could tell Randy had been restless too. One does not unlock a sexual desire and just put it away. I could tell he wanted to at least talk about this more, but between our separate jobs and his family, there was just no way we could make it work. Until…

His wife got an unexpected vacation from work, and they had planned to go visit her family in Virginia. However, Randy couldn’t take the time from his job, and had some repairs and maintenance to do around the house. Plus, he wasn’t crazy about her side of the family anyway. She took the kids and left him home, and finally, he had a week to himself.

He couldn’t invite me over fast enough. The Royal Rumble was on, and during the undercard we ventured into familiar conversation. I decided to tell him about Steven, though I left Barry out of the story. He understood, he knew I thought his brother was attractive, and was actually glad that he found someone to share his desires with. I asked Randy how he was holding up.

He told me that he had been thinking about trying shit play again, intentionally. Trying to hold it so he could cum again from the pressure on his prostate. I told him there were other ways to stimulate his prostate. He responded by taking off his sneakers.

The smell hit me hard. His thick fat feet were covered in socks that had formed to every curve and wrinkle. They were steaming. I took one to my nose immediately and inhaled like a diver coming up for air. My olfactory senses were burning for his foot stink. It took me a second to realize he was rubbing his other sweaty paw on my diapered crotch. I savored each sock until I peeled them off and placed them in a ziploc bag.

I asked Randy how long he’d been holding it in, and he said he was on day two. I could see him fidgeting just a bit and decided to let him wait. As I suckled his toes like a pacifier, I let go and began to flood my diaper. A soft hissing sound could faintly be heard above the din of pro wrestling. Randy moaned blissfully as my tongue worked in between each toe and over his meaty soles. After a while he broke the moment to take off his pants and shirt.

He was wearing my favorite underwear- light grey Gildan boxer briefs. He lay his 300-pound bulk face down over my lap, his pelvis centered over my thighs. I could feel his boner poking into my leg as he gently rubbed back and forth, back and forth. He smelled faintly of swamp ass, and sure enough, as I slid my hand under the leg hole of his briefs and invaded his nether regions, my hand was greeted with his sticky, pungent odor. It wafted into my nostrils and I groaned, letting go of my bowels. A day and a half of soft serve rushed warmly into my diaper, up underneath my balls. Randy heard the gurgling, bubbling sound and smiled as the stench rose around us. My fingers began to probe his hole, and when I pulled them out, they were covered in a tan glaze. I began to rub his ass through his underwear, and after a few minutes, began to notice a small, wet stain appear on his backside. Rubbing more, I felt it start to flow through. Warm, tacky shit began oozing slowly from Randy’s hole. It was loose shit, but it was coming out at a slow pace. I couldn’t tell if he was controlling it or just letting nature take its course.

The stain began to spread around the seat of his underwear. Some began flowing out of the leg holes. It was hot and reddish-brown, not quite the thickness of peanut butter. It smeared so easily.

I looked at his inner thighs, the dark, chub-rubbed skin was starting to get a coat of paint. I runner some shit gently on his inner thighs and he gasped at the touch. A short rush of poo blorted out of his hole and widened the stain in his underwear.

His shit was now starting to work its way down between my thighs, which were pressed together. As more and more of his brown stew seeped between my legs, Randy worked his hard prick in there with it. His fresh warm shit was lubing him up and he began to fuck my thighs. I sit back and let it happen. His shitting was less controlled now as he humped, farting and slopping out of his big fat rump. The more of a mess he made, the faster he fucked, until finally, with me three fingers deep in his asshole, I felt it push and clench at the same time. A mass of shit rushed forth over my fingers and hand, out of his underwear and down between my legs. Randy cried out in sheer pleasure as he came, firing off a dozen shots of whtie-hot jizz between my fat, shit-smeared thighs. I moaned and babbled softly as my orgasm washed over me, cumming quietly into my wet and soiled diaper.

Randy got up after a few minutes, put his pants back on, and said, “Day One, done.”

I couldn’t wait for day two.

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  1. God I love your stories. Always had a thing for big smelly, chubby guys, including ones who have no problem soiling or pissing themselves. The smelly socked feet is an added bonus for me too. 😉

  2. Yours are among my favorites too, Jenkits. I always get off reading them. I love fat men, and I know that many of them would rather just shit themselves than get up or find a toilet. They live how it feels mashing between their chubby cheeks and legs. There I go again, LOL.

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