wedding

My cousin married his wife about 6 years ago in a formal wedding. It was in a converted old house on a property that was once some rich person’s land, but now is a state park.
It was too warm to be wearing a tuxedo, but every guy was, including me. I think I looked good in my glossy suit, satin lapels, fancy shirt. Bow tie and cummerbund, patent leather shoes, those weird silk socks only perverts wear. Heh. Pants tight enough.
I was getting more and more turned on looking at all these 20-somethings sweating in their tuxes, getting drunker and drunker. Waiting on line for the one men’s room was really nice: I am a pervert and really liked watching all the guys squirm cause they had so much beer. So much pretending that it was cool, like, we are not gunna piss ourselves like little boys, we are grownups all dressed up. Our underwear is not damp.
Someone was crapping and farting inside the bathroom, with groans loud enough to come through the thin door, so I was a little hard listening to that, but then the need to go got worse; I lost the boner and gained the desire to piss really bad.
Woods were behind the tent, so I left the toilet line and headed away to take a leak there. I wanted to at least drip in my pants, maybe a squirt to let some pressure off, but I was afraid it would really show on the front of my tuxedo pants, plus I can’t tell how much will actually spray when I have to go really badly, so it wasn’t worth the risk. I kept my hand in my pocket around my dick as I tried to casually walk and smile at people; like, ‘hey, having fun? Just strolling around. Don’t I look like guy who’s ready to wet himself?” Didn’t actually say the last part.
There actually was another little building behind a fence, behind the tent, and as I walked around it to pee against it, I realized that it was the public restroom for the park. It stank. I really like piss, but this smelled so strong even outside it. I mean, reeked.
Inside, even more.. A wall of urinals with puddles on the floor under each one was around the corner from the broken pipe ends where sinks used to be. Then there was a group of stalls, half missing their doors. I got more and more turned on, standing there in shiny shoes and a silk tux, in that stench, feeling more and more pervert-like, unzipping my fly, hand in my pants rubbing my cock, kind of going into a jack-off trance, but then was startled to see shoes moving under the last stall door. Jeez.
Hand out of pants fast, and on my way to the urinals to do it and get out. I did not want to get caught whacking off in the middle of the room, like not that far from all those people at the party.
This guy comes out of the toilet. Big, a little dirty. A construction worker or maintenance man, tan pants and tan shirt, staring at me, not so friendly looking. He said ‘aren’t you pretty’ and walked straight up to me; said that he knew why I was in there. He said ‘you like the smell right? I heard you sniffing. You like it..’
My heart was beating hard, I thought I would get hit. Sweat dripped down my sides. I was panicking, and suddenly I realized my leg felt warm. I was pissing myself, in expensive clothes. No control, just gushing out my underwear and down my left pants leg, then both legs, making my feet inside my shoes warm. Pissed in my shoes! And flooding, my beautiful pants with the satin stripes on the sides, soaking them. Be careful what you fantasize about, eh?
He looked down and said ‘you like that too..’ ,put his hand between my legs, and squeezed. It sort of hurt, but sort of felt good. My crotch was still dripping. My dick stiffened. This was getting good.
He wiped his wet hand on my shirt and sort of dragged me into the stall. Boy oh boy, what a mess: shit in the bowl, pile on the seat, wiped on the wall. Flooded on the floor, yellow. He was struggling to pull his cock out of his pants, and then he was pissing on my leg, and then he was pressing me to my knees and pissing on my shirt, and then on my chin. I opened my mouth. I told you I am a pervert. I started licking the end of his wet dick, and he got hard, but still pissed, just with less force, but still enough to fill my mouth too fast to swallow. I frantically rubbed my hardon on the inside my stained tux pants. He squirmed around, I was overwhelmed.
It seemed like he was farting, but then I thought maybe it was just the smell of all the shit. Then I heard it, while I had my wet chin pressed against his balls, my hands on his thighs. I could feel his muscles tense and he was shitting himself, bubbling farts and powerful smell, his pants stretching tight as the back of them was filled.
He actually shit himself while I was blowing him. On purpose? Who shits when they get blown? It was amazingly hot. I came in my underwear, hands free, as soon as I pressed on the warm lump in his pants.
He made me suck him in the piss puddle for a while, then made me sit on the filthy toilet seat, and finally blew a load onto my jacket.
He just zipped up and left. Not even a wave. Walking out bowlegged, big dark spreading splotch on the seat of his tan pants. My hands were stained brown.
I jerked off twice more, so soaked in sweat and piss my clothes were wet through, then walked around in the trees, trying to figure out the best way to the parking lot where no-one would see me in my piss soaked, shit stained tux.
I got home sitting on two old towels and a plastic bag. The smell was fantastically strong, even with the windows open. In the garage I jerked my poor sore cock one more time. I am really a pervert. The tux is in a plastic hanger bag in the cellar, and it still works every time I smell it.

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Responses

  1. You the good writer, One of the best story there, but more than the story, The writing style is amazing. That feel of a natural flow that lead you from a line to another, and that very impressive immersion and visualisation. Waiting for others with so much attention to the style 🙂

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