Tale of Shameless Shitting-Part 2

When the door opened the tourist went into high gear, yanking up his pants before finishing his wiping. It was bad enough Steve had seen his private act, he wasn’t about to let another stranger see him on the crapper. No doubt his underwear would be glued to his messy butt within the hour. The tourist hurried to the sinks not even taking time to flush his mess. The footsteps that came through the door went to the urinals leaving Steve alone on his shitter holding in his load. About ten minutes later the door opened again and this time the footsteps approached, seemingly unaware of where they were going. A young man dressed in a tour bus drivers uniform rounded the corner, obviously used to this open concept, he headed passed Steve unbuckling his tight regulation pants that stretched across a wide firm butt. He got to the end toilet, stopped, muttered something about “fucking pigs” and then took the middle toilet. He undid his belt and took his trousers down so they were slung between his calves and took his seat, immediately cutting  a growling fart into the bowl with a quiet sigh. Steve farted to mark his territory and started to bare down with a growl. The driver sat with his elbows resting on the top of his thighs, seemingly calm and unperturbed by the open arrangement. He cut another fart which ended with a heavy plop. He breathed and bared down again, sending another few plops into the water. Steve clenched his own hole closed cutting his log into a piece which fell with a similar heavy plop, and he sighed loudly. The driver seemed to be dropping an endless load of shit, in splashes and plops that suggested a dense stool. He let out a streamer of piss, holding his cock down between his thighs and sighed in relief. By now Steve was fighting the urge to let his whole load go, he held his hole closed and started to piss, feeling his thickening cock throb as the stream flew out of him. The driver let one further bit drop into the water and started to clean-up, no doubt adhering to his tight schedule. He wiped his ass from between his legs at the front, then worked from the side lifting his drivers ass off the seat. He finished up, casually stood reveal his full youthful ass, pulled up his pants, not caring if anyone was looking or not. He buckled up and flushed, leaving Steve alone once again.

A couple of guys came into piss, a few farts ringing out in the low ceilinged building. And still Steve held out for more. A few minutes later the door opened again followed by quickening footsteps that neared in haste. A uniformed cop darted around the corner, breathing hard and tugging his belt open, quickly undoing his pants and throwing himself onto the middle toilet not a minute too soon. He farted out a torrent of gassy diarrhea that sounded like a waterfall. He groaned loudly rubbing his lower abdomen. He sat hunched over, exhausted, breathing hard. Steve grunted out a bit more log and sighed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cop rolling paper onto his hand, and then dabbing at the underwear gathered at his feet, no doubt trying to clean a shart off of his briefs. The cop took a deep breath in and sent another cacophony of farts and liquid shit into the bowl. This guy was obviously in distress, but still Steve remained quiet. The cop sat breathing heavily and cut another few wet sounding farts out of his hole. He looked to be in his late forties, well groomed, handsome, smart looking in the uniform. The storm calmed down for a few minutes, the cop whimpering to himself in the silence. And the door opened again.

This time the footsteps were uncertain, they moved towards the urinals on the other side of the wall and then slowly made their way around the corner. Another tourist. This guy was about 6 foot two  inches, like a giant, young, blonde, rugged looking  Nordic Adonis. He stopped short when he saw Steve and the cop sitting out in the open with their pants around their ankles. He muttered a quiet comment, something that sounded like it might be in German. He moved slowly toward the end taking it all in, looked in the last bowl and then moved to the second last bowl, the one beside the cop. He casually put down his back pack and yanked his shorts down to his ankles without a care and sat down on his bowl. He was blocked from Steve’s view, but Steve’s hearing was keen, and yet there remained a silence. The cop moaning and breathing and the young hunk quiet, just sitting winding up for what would probably be a big one. But there was only quiet and the sound of the door opening again.

The footsteps shuffled around the corner, the sound of thick soled construction boots, covered in mud and filth. Steve looked up to see one of the construction workers moving into the space slowly, undoing his belt and overall bib. He was a big boy, a Rob Ford lookalike. He still had on his hard hat. The cop looked up, gave a little wave. They obviously knew each other. The worker made his way down to the last toilet, uttered a sharp “fuck!” and strolled back down to the toilet beside Steve, turning his ample ass in Steve’s direction completely oblivious to the fact that Steve’s face was a foot from his face. He ripped out a crusher of a fart creating a slight breeze and warmth in Steve’s direction. Steve’s cock was now in full throb hidden under his hand. “How’s it goin’?” the worker asked casually. The cop looked up wincing a bit,” suffering from a bit of food poisoning I think. I have got a painful case of the runs” The worker undid his bib and lowered his overalls to the floor exposing one hell of a huge big boy ass to Steve. Obviously these guys were used to this set up, like in the army, strange at first and then it gets easy. Almost fun, a game. The worker settled onto his seat and let out a solid column of hollow sounding air, no doubt the precursor to a big-boy dump. Steve grunted to keep up and dropped some more shit. The German  was silent and the cop was straining against his cramps. “Where’d you get food poisoning?” the worker asked winding up, his voice groaning to bare down. “Subway, yesterday. Officer Brooks and myself went there, came back here to supervise traffic around the site and that’s when it hit. Hit Brooks first. Poor guy didn’t make it to the can, shit himself half way up the sidewalk. I found him in here trying to clean up. Man was he humiliated.” The worker started on his thick sounding log talking over the strain, a few farts issuing from around the moving log. “That’s why! I came in here to have a shit and the end toilet was covered in it, like someone sat down on it with shit all over themselves. Pair of pants on the floor, brown on blue.” “He was a mess, all down his legs, and boy did he stink. Anyway I got him his civilian clothes from the car, and he got cleaned up pretty good, we locked the place up for a while so he could hose off”  The Cop took in a breath and farted hard, moaning. The worker let go with another log and a last lengthy fart. Steve grunted out the last of his log and sighed in huge relief. Here they were four men all experiencing one of the greatest pleasures in life. The dump.

The cop started to clean up, wad after wad shoved into his no doubt splattered hair cheeks. The worker, once again unaware of Steve’s proximity stood , his ass practically in Steve’s face, he pulled aside his cheeks, leaned forward a bit and worked the paper between his huge cheeks, repeating this about eight times. The cop was done, walking out he told the worker he would see him at the site. The German was silent, either shell shocked by the North American barbarity of it all or just taking it all in. The worker blew out one last fart with a wave of warm over Steve’s way, he got his overalls up flushed and wandered out as if that had been the most normal thing in the world to do.

Steve sat wondering how he was going to wipe and get out with the boner he had between his legs. He sat trying to think of bad things to ease his swelling but nothing was working. Out  of the blue, there was a sudden large welling up in his rectum and he let fly one loud ringing fart, quite by surprise. It was then the German made a sound, a kind of whistle, a comment on the fart. Steve turned and looked down the row of toilets. The Nordic God had his hand between his thighs, moving slowly up and down. Feeling Steve’s eyes on him, he sat back, and let his stiff cock fly . Of course it was huge and beautiful, crown with light brown, thick bush. The German gave  Steve a smile and that’s when it really got interesting.

To be continued

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