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Message-ID: <61076asstr$1301011802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: blue pervina <bluepervina@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Dirty Work {bluepervina} (MM, FMM, anal, fist, enem, ws, scat, voy, inc, twins, cd, feet, oral)
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Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2011 20:10:02 -0400
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It takes a pro to satisfy the filthy needs of a crossdressing twink and his
twin sister.
<1st attachment, "dirty_work_by_bluepervina.rtf" begin>

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   ----------------

   Dirty Work



   by bluepervina, ?  2011, all rights reserved

   bluepervina [AT] gmail [DOT] com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/bluepervina/www



   ( MM, FMM, anal, fist, enem, ws, scat, voy, inc, twins, cd, feet, oral )



   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18/consent, or otherwise forbidden by law to
read any or specific kinds of electronically transmitted erotic material,
please do not read anything else in this file.

   This material is copyrighted by bluepervina.  All rights are reserved.
The author specifically grants to an individual user the right to download
and keep ONE electronic copy for that individual's personal reading so long
as all original copyright notices by bluepervina remain included with the
work.

   Any and all reposting requires prior written permission from
bluepervina.

   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   Furthermore, this is a work of fiction.  Your responsibility as the
reader is to acknowledge that the following story is not a true account,
not based upon fact, and is not in any way connected with reality.  It is a
fantasy.  Please do not read this story if you cannot or will not accept
that this is purely a work of the imagination.

   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



   Music pounded through the walls, savage vibrations stabbing at me right
through the cinder block.  I was headed straight for another headache.  For
what seemed like the millionth time I found myself wondering why I ever
agreed to set up shop there.  It was a small town theater, and there was a
whole half of the mini-multiplex that was shut down, so the space was
great. But the noise.  Fuck.  The noise!



   Had its benefits, though.  That's what kept me there.  Being at the end
of the town's only legitimate strip mall, having parking on three sides of
the building, multiple entrances leading to multiple stores, the theater,
public restrooms, a shitty Chinese buffet place it was superb camouflage.
Visitors could blend right in, then disappear whenever the moment was
right.



   So much better than working from home, that's for sure.  Attempted and
rejected.  More than once.  What can I say?  I tend to learn most things
the hard way.



   But meanwhile, the noise.  The goddamn action soundtrack.  I wish I
could say that it was fitting, so perfectly apropos, that we were men on
the make, heroes suited with fists ready to fly, or romantic vigilantes, at
least, heavy in tatts and black leather, with voices low, eyes deep, souls
teetering at some bittersweet abyss.  What a bunch of bullshit!  Our
soundtrack was the pig pen.  The crowded Saturday night stalls in the
leather bar bathroom.  The basement dungeon with the drain in the floor and
chains bolted to the beams.



   The tatts, at least, those I did have.  I do love my dragon!  And I've
got the leather, for special occasions.  But I was pretty sure I had no
fight left in me.  As for my soul and the abyss, well, I had some good
bourbon to deal with that.



   We did business when the theater was open, when the strip mall had
people coming and going.  It was that simple.  Gave our customers cover. 
So we suffered the sound.  I suffered, at least.  Borders, he didn't hardly
notice, far as I could ever tell.  Kept his nose buried in his book du jour
with earbuds jammed deep inside his ridiculous mess of hair, presumably in
his ears.  Noise canceling noise.  Words canceling thought.  Borders had it
so fucking easy.



   He didn't talk much, but he was six-foot-six and liked my money, did
what I asked.  He read Nietzsche and Erich von D?niken and a whole hell of
a lot of Sue Grafton, for fuck's sake.  Ate a lot of Pringles.  Smoked a
lot.  Like me.  That was about all we had in common, far as I could tell.
But, then again, I'd never really made a move on him.  Unfortunately,
experience had taught me a healthy fear of rejection from huge,
well-muscled men.



   But he liked my money, did what I asked, so I merely admired him from
afar.



   In addition to the sonic bombardment, my sinuses couldn't take much more
of the vague mildew our part of the building seemed infested with.  I'd
gone around intermittently for weeks with a flashlight and bleach in a
spray bottle, but the mildew remained.  It was in the thin utilitarian
carpet, for sure; it was up in the dusty baffles, too, and inside all those
suspiciously squishy, folding seats.



   Borders ignored the mildew like he did everything else.  If it bothered
him or not, I'd never know.  He'd found a desk in the projectionist's
storage upstairs, along with a desk lamp and a decent chair on wheels that
only squeaked a little as he absently swiveled while he read.  His bulk
reassured me every bit as much as his silence annoyed me.  I often caught
myself watching the giant hulking shadow the lamp cast against the
curtained wall so far away from me, catching his every move as he studied
those pages and noshed in his quiet vigil.  He was my receptionist as much
as my bodyguard, so he kept his distance, but not too much.



   I was more or less sure I was in love with him.  At least maybe I was.
Or maybe I was just bored.  One thing I knew for sure: it was annoying as
fuck that I was almost fifteen years older than him.  Worse still, I didn't
even know his real name.  But honestly I didn't want to know, not in this
line of work.  Less to worry about.  Pay cash, not attention.  That's how
it was supposed to be between us.



   Me, I had my mattress.  I also got the big corridor restroom that still
had a functional toilet.  I ran a hose out of the faucet in the sink, using
a cheap rubber attachment that worked surprisingly well, so with the
ubiquitous and oh-so-classy drain in the middle of the once-public restroom
floor I even had my own humongous shower.  Borders had to hike up to the
projectionist's bathroom when he had to go.  Perks of being the boss.



   I also had the cheap studio set-up, lights and all, three stationary
cameras on tripods, a handheld for Borders if the client wanted a more
precise view of things.  The rig about broke me, but a good lighting frame
could make or break those precious few times when you'd film something
decent enough to turn around and sell.



   There was a rope strung up horizontally across the corner behind the
bed, with the spare set of sheets hanging off, making a silly little
private changing area for the more absurdly modest that wandered in.  The
trunk full of toys was back there, too, along with the mini fridge.  The
computers and the video editing software were back at my apartment.  I
could risk theft of the cameras and the lights but not the real
money-maker.



   We specialized, of course.  That had its pros and cons.  A lot of days
we got no traffic, not even any calls.  It was a little like real estate.
Make one sale a month and you're set, right?  Two and you're almost a
legend.  That was our business, too.  Our hope, though, was to get one a
day.  That would keep us eating for sure.  Really, though, two or three a
week was enough.  That was usually about all I could handle, anyway.  Some
things took more time to recover from than others.



   I spent a lot of time studying Borders' big, solid shadow, waiting for
my month to come in.  Sometimes, though, I got out the ratchet set and
passed time pulling out more rows of seats, piling them up near the top of
the room, near the entrance to the corridor.  Where I hung out, down at the
flat bottom beneath the giant sour-streaked gray screen, it was hard to
find much better to do.



   Borders would get a call, arrange terms, then disappear at the appointed
time to go collect the customer from the rendezvous point by the shoe
store; he'd lead them down the service corridor, through the back door of
the unused half of the theater, and finally present them to me.  Or him to
me, I should say.  I serviced hims.  Men.  Cocks.



   Until the day a cunt came, too.  And then I made some real money.



   ``I want to watch him do it,'' she said, coming up slowly behind Borders
and the john.  Without breaking stride she began circling my bed, looking
everywhere at once, looking a lot at me.



   She was short, barely five feet tall, petite and pretty all over small
tits, narrow waist, tiny bubble ass.  Her blonde hair was cut off at her
chin, but it was razored in this chic way that made her look a lot thinner
in her face than she really was.  Plus, it was streaked this cotton candy
pink, just enough to notice, not enough to annoy.  And her pierced nipples
pushed against the inside of her smart blouse with the kind of knobby,
chunky defiance of her bra that simply amazed.  I found myself liking her
muscular, lean legs a lot, the way her calves balled up nicely as she stood
in those three-inch strappy heels, the way her skirt rode up her thighs as
she stalked around me, watching me watching her.



   Much to my surprise, I felt my cheeks flush, my gut clench.  This was a
woman I could want.



   It had been a decade since I'd started to specialize; my senses had
grown so dull toward women that I barely gave a second thought to scoring
fresh pussy in my free time.  Hell, I went fishing a lot.  I watched ESPN
and fucked around on the PlayStation.  Pounded the weights.  Find a hot
bitch and get laid?  That sounded a lot like real work, when you got right
down to it.  Cockless sweat-time with no payout, no reward.  Certainly not
love.  I was no fool.



   The john, for his part, was every bit his companion's sexy equal.  Like
her, he wore top-shelf brand name shit, right down to his double-knit
embroidered socks.  He was blonde, too, with white streaks instead of pink,
and his hair was only a little shorter.  He was maybe twenty five, a little
older than Borders, and lean, hard-muscled with long lines like a tennis
pro or a surfer.  Where she was short he was tall, well over six feet,
nearly as tall as Borders, but a quarter his mass.  And delicate, somehow.



   Handing me a roll of bills, Borders nodded his head toward the woman and
mumbled, ``She wants to run the camera.  I told her it was probably more of
a 'why not' than a 'hell no', but you'd stick to your price.''



   I nodded, ``Yeah, same price, but she can be the eye, I don't care.'' I
was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king mattress, naked,
absently stroking the hair around my navel with one hand, my cock with the
other.  ``But if she wants to do more than film?  You two talked about
that?''



   Borders shrugged.  ``Sorry, no...  didn't, ah...  I didn't realize that
would be on the table.''



   The woman stopped her pacing and cocked her hips, crossed her arms. 
``You think I want that big gay dick of yours?  Are you serious?'' Her eyes
narrowed, hard and cold.  ``You think I need to come to a place like this
for my kicks?  What the fuck?!''



   Borders grunted and rolled his eyes.  This wouldn't be the first time
I'd managed to talk my way out of a buck.  You had to really think first
before talking to new clients.  And sometimes you just shouldn't talk at
all.



   The john, though, was about as locked in as any man who'd ever laid eyes
on me.  His jaw muscles twitched as he ran his gaze over me, glancing at
the woman with a desperate, pleading hunger in his eyes.  He didn't want to
go, but it was clear the choice would be hers.  His first words came out in
a pitiful kind of croak.  ``S- Sissie...  come on...'' he begged, looking
at her, raising a limp hand in her direction.



   The woman blinked, then smiled charmingly at her companion.  She lost
her hard pose and went to him, threw her arms around him.  She strained to
pull his face down to hers and kissed him deeply for nearly a minute.  His
hands fluttered, finally resting lightly on her hips, as if awaiting
further instructions.  When the woman finally broke off the kiss and
stepped back, he seemed more than a little relieved.  But his dick was
obviously hard; it pushed against the inside of his crushed denim with an
impressive curving girth.



   Turning back to me, she chuckled.  ``Just kidding, by the way.  I'll be
the first to admit what a horny little fag-hag I am.  That's for damn
sure.'' She elbowed the man sharply in his ribs, grabbing him by the arm
before he could stagger too far away.  ``But how can I fucking help it? 
He's a fucking hot piece of ass, right?''



   She looked at his crotch and laughed, swiping a quick hand across it. 
He jerked his hips back immediately, setting his jaw and blushing hard.



   ``This sexy fucker's name is Andrew.  He's my twin brother.''



   It figured.  Only an idiot or a blood relation could possibly resist a
kiss that good.



   ``He's been fucking queer since day fucking number one,'' she went on.
Her hand tried for his pants again, but he caught her wrist and threw it
back, rolling his eyes.  ``Much to my endless disappointment....''



   She chuckled and gave him some room.  ``And his wife's.''



   ``Oh, fuck you, Sissie.  Angie.  Bitch,'' the john hissed.  His voice
was higher than his sister's by a half-octave, at least.  And the color in
his cheeks was entirely fetching.  I found myself stroking with a little
more purpose.



   Angie ignored her brother's insult and focused on me, instead.  ``I see
you're fucking ready, huh?  Man-whore?  Is that what you are?  What do you
dudes call yourselves, anyway?'' She glanced over at Borders to see if he'd
react, but he was already back in his book, all the way over on the other
side of the cavernous room, at the top of the hill.



   ``Borders is just my business partner, that's all,'' I countered.  ``My
Chief Operating Officer.  He's about as queer as you are, I suppose.''



   The woman threw her head back and guffawed.  ``Wrong, asshole!  So
wrong! I am one hell of a gay bitch when the mood strikes.'' She kept her
hungry eyes on Borders for a while, long enough for me to hate her just a
secret little bit, and then she went on, turning back to me.  ``But I guess
you're not exactly a people person, are you?  So I guess I'll let you slide
on your, um, error of judgment.  Can't exactly hold it against you, since
you sit around all day alone and naked on a fucking rubber sheet in the
smelliest fucking cave you could find.  I mean, Jesus, is there enough
mildew in here or what?  Do you fucking get off on it or something?''



   ``For the record, ma'am, I only shed trou' about a minute before you
walked in.'' I stood up on the bed, dropping my penis, letting it jut
heavily before me, letting my trim waist, thick chest, and heavy shoulders
speak for themselves.  ``It helps the, uh...  the customer make up his mind
a little faster.''



   Andrew sucked in his breath, eying me from head to toe with open lust.
He pressed the heel of a hand against his cock, then got a full fist of
trouser and began to squeeze.  I didn't lift weights for three hours a
night for nothing.  I liked to close the deal, and close it fast.



   Angie whistled, settling her hands on her hips and appraising me with a
new kind of grin on her gorgeous face.  ``Well now, I can sort of begin to
understand your high fucking price.  Just look at you.''



   In response I twitched my pecs a little, let my abs ripple.  I knew from
endless practice how that made the dragon inked across my chest appear to
jump, wriggle, and almost fly.  Turning, I struck a lat spread, then a
double bicep, making sure my right calf was out, my hammie good and hard,
my ass clenched with all the promise I could muster.



   This time, almost in unison, the twins simply sighed.  I relaxed and
turned back around to find them staring not at me any more, but at each
other.  Angie was nodding, gesturing in my direction.  Andrew was smiling
almost stupidly, nodding right back.



   ``OK, Andy-boy, is this what you wanted?  This the kind of man you get
off on?  He's got to be butch enough for your pansy ass, am I right?''
Andrew just kept on nodding, looking between his sister and I with a
singular kind of excitement.  A kid on Christmas morning, really.  That's
what he was like.



   ``He's been cooped up in his tidy little marriage ever since college,
poor thing,'' Angie explained.  ``He's about ready to bust.''



   ``He can bust all over me as much as he wants, of course,'' I crooned,
giving him my best gentle cowboy eyes.  ``He's got until midnight.  Plus,
I've got whatever, um, little helpers he might need to keep him going, you
know, if it comes to that.''



   ``Jesus, Andrew, you hear that?  Five fucking hours of that cock!  That
ass!  Jesus!'' Angie threw both hands in the air and pounced on the
handheld camera, which sat on the floor near one leg of the light rig.  ``I
couldn't find a man that hot in a hundred years of trying.  Not one who's
single and straight.  I mean, fuck, how fucking twisted is this fucking
world?''



   I wasn't a fool.  I wasn't going to deflate the moment, in Andrew's
case, anyway, by throwing out some kind of cool-guy line about being
bisexual.  I had business to get to, after all.  Besides, the woman seemed
pretty fun as a pissy bitch.  Why open some unexpected door and fuck up the
nice vibe the three of us finally had going, you know?



   But I did make a small, simple plan in the back of my head.  For later.
Just in case.



   Angie flipped the lens cap off, hit the switch on the lights, and
swooped in directly on my cock.



   ``Let's see this monster drool, huh Andy-boy?'' she called out over her
shoulder.  ``You gotta want a shot of this sweet piece of meat for
posterity.''



   I laughed an obliged her with a little dick dance, clenching and
unclenching, making it bob around and fling precum a little here and there.
A thin rope of the stuff splattered up onto my chest, right across the
dragon's face.  Another little bit landed on Angie's toes, but she didn't
seem to notice at all.



   ``Oh, shit, bro, you got to get naked and fuck this stud soon.  Get him
while he's fresh!''



   I laughed again and watched his sister weave around me like a master
cinematographer as Andrew fastidiously undressed, folding his pants
carefully and hanging his shirt off one of the light clamps on the rig.  He
was fresh and pink like a baby when naked, pale but flushed, hard and long
and a little sweaty already.  His cock, much to my delight, was longer than
mine, thinner, but with a nice fat red head.  He had no tatts, no
piercings, and hardly any hair.  A total twink.  My type of man.



   ``So,'' I wondered, ``What's the plan?  You know how I play, right?''



   Andrew swallowed hard and nodded, looking at his sister.  She cut away
from her greedy zoom on my balls and sighed.  ``Well, Andrew, what the
fuck? You gonna tell him or am I?''



   Andrew lowered his eyes and muttered, ``You do it.''



   ``Fine.'' Angie turned to me and jerked a thumb in her brother's
direction.  ``He's a big-time cross-dressing freak.  I mean, he looks
fucking better in women's clothes than I do, you know?  His legs are
fucking amazing.  And his ass.  God!'' She set the camera on the mattress
at my feet and went over to her chunky purse at the foot of the lighting
rig.  ``Anyway, he likes to dress up in lingerie and prance around.  Been
doing it since we were like ten.  Now he does it at my house three times a
week, at least.  Goes out with me at least once a week, too, dressed like a
fucking fashionista.  We rock the fucking hell out of the tapas bar, the
two of us.''



   She pulled some silky things out of her purse and tossed them into her
brother's trembling hands.  ``You get a little makeup on those sweet cheeks
of his, color up his eyes, fatten those lashes...  I mean, Jesus, you ought
to see him take down a whole happy hour.  He's the ultimate fucking queen.
They line up for blowjobs in the parking lot like it's the fucking DMV.''



   Andrew shyly wandered over behind the spare sheets and assembled himself
out of sight.  ``But we're not going to fuck with the makeup not this time,
at least,'' Angie declared, rearranging her small tits with both hands,
shoving them up higher in her bra, it seemed.  She grinned at me and ran
her fingertips over her blouse, right on top of her obviously stiff
nipples. ``This might get to be a regular thing, cowboy, you never
know....''



   In extremely short order, Andrew reemerged, transformed.  His short
blonde hair seemed to fly away from his face with more volume, his mouth
and his eyes were relaxed, softened, and sensual, his movements fluid and
graceful.  Confident.  He wore a thin white chemise, low-waisted white
panties with delicate little side ties, and tight white thigh high hose
that gripped him perfectly, with no need for garters or a belt.  His long
feet in high spiked clear plastic heels were perfect, the toes absolutely
succulent, pedicured, delicate.



   Angie had the camera again and was circling her brother, cooing
appreciatively.  ``That's my girl, that's my hot bitch....  Just walk
around a little, let me watch you work it a little.''



   As Andrew proudly sauntered by, his head held high, back arched, hips
swaying, I couldn't help but notice Angie stooping a little beside me, her
feet far apart, bent to the camera's viewfinder intent on the perfect angle
to capture her perfectly queer brother.  I could smell her pussy.  I could
see the unmistakeable glint of her juice running down the inside of her
thigh.



   ``That's it, Andy, sweetie, work that ass.  Fucking work it....''



   Despite myself, I had to think business.  I needed the plan.  My fee was
high for a reason.  Well, a lot of reasons.  I needed to know which reasons
they had shown up for.  No self-respecting whore just wings it, after all.
If a customer gets more than he pays for, well, word of that gets out way
too fucking fast.



   Andrew had circled my mattress almost three times before I finally
cleared my throat and asked again, ``So, what's the plan?''



   Andrew, as if on cue, dropped to his hands and knees and crawled up onto
the mattress until his face pressed into my balls, his nose sucking air,
inhaling my scent.  Then he moved his mouth up onto my shaft, sucking me
in, taking me after three tries all the way down to the root.  My knees
barely held.



   Angie, catching it all on video, simply muttered, ``We paid for five
hours, manwhore.  Five hours of full, unlimited service.  So the plan is...
any fucking thing he wants.'' She pulled her eye off the viewfinder and
stared up at me.  ``Am I right, or am I fucking right?''



   Andrew's tongue was on my balls.  My cock head was buried deep in his
throat, getting squeezed with an amazing rolling sort of sensation that
only a nice, fat adam's apple can provide.  It was already almost
impossible to remain standing, and I realized it was also pretty damn hard
to talk.  I just nodded.  Over and over.  My hands fluttered around the
queen's head as he sucked and licked and slobbered me into oblivion.



   His finger began exploring the crack of my ass, and I widened my stance
to accommodate him there.  He expertly gathered some of his own saliva
running off my sack and used it to lube my hole.  I groaned as one, then
two fingers drove far up inside me, twisting, digging, searching.  Such a
delicious, dirty sensation, the opening of one's ass!



   Finally, I found my voice, groaning down at him, ``Yeah, bitch, dig in
my ass.  Get up in there.  Get you some!''



   And he did.  I had a heavy load of shit, as was my habit, ready and
waiting for any customer that might come along.  Years of training my diet
and bowel movements had me ready with a full ass every night.  It didn't
take Andrew long to discover that for himself.  He went rigid and shivered
all over as his fingers finally dug into the lowermost lump of my tightly
confined crap.



   ``Oh yeah, baby, you're in his shit, aren't you?'' Angie yelled, jumping
around behind me to get at his hand plowing up into my crack.  ``Goddamn,
that's hot as fuck!  Pull it out and let me see.  Let me see!''



   I had to sigh.  It felt almost better to have his fingers come out of
me, feeling that sweet gaping moment of being open, of nearly letting it
all out.  Then closing it back.  Keeping it in.  Letting the mass move
down. Press down.  That ridiculously pleasant feeling of fullness.  Of
impending movement.  As much as I wanted his fingers back inside me, I
wanted to feel my shit moving out of me almost more.



   I staggered back from Andrew's face as he un-schlepped my cock and knelt
there staring at his two fingers covered with a thick round blob of feces.
Angie swooped in with the camera, egging him on.



   ``Go on, baby, lick that nasty brown lollipop.  Go on...  go on....''



   And he did.  Without any hesitation Andrew popped his fingers in his
mouth and sucked hard, working his tongue all around.  After a moment he
pulled his hand away, and his fingers were nearly perfectly clean.  Only
the brown rime around his fingernails could attest to what he'd just
dredged out of my ass.  I was impressed.  Even my regulars who play with
their own shit and mine on a pretty frequent basis will often have a little
hesitation, a tiny moment of mental gymnastics before the ravening begins.
But not with Andrew.  By the time I took my eyes off his gleaming wet
fingers and looked back at his pretty face, he'd already swallowed his
mouthful without a bit of trouble.



   Then he held his fingers out and up, but not to me.  His sister pulled
the camera away long enough to lean in and close her mouth around those two
wet slimy digits, sucking on them for nearly a minute while she moaned and
roughly aimed the camera at the side of her own face.  When she finally
pulled away she snuck me a wicked glance and a wink before putting the
camera back to her eye.



   ``Sorry about that, manwhore,'' she muttered.  ``Guess that wasn't on
the invoice.  Won't happen again.''



   I could only shake my head and laugh, but I didn't disagree.  Hell yes,
they'd pay more if she got involved.  I could double-down on my Harley
payment that month, for fuck's sake!



   ``Taste as good as mine, Drew-baby?  Does it?  Does it?'' Angie goaded,
circling us again.  ``I thought it was a little fucking rich, but what
should we expect, right?  This stud's shit's gonna be just as strong as he
is.  Ha!''



   Andrew was back on my cock, his fingers back in my hole.  As he dug
around, sucking hungrily, I considered breaking one of the best practices
of whoring.  Never, not ever, ask a john personal questions unless he has
made it clear that he wants to spill beans about himself.  If the book is
closed, don't try to open it.  Nothing can turn a trick cold faster than
that.



   It was so tempting.  But no.  I was a pro.  Besides, it was obvious they
were fucking twins.  The clich?  had to have some merit, right?  Share
everything....



   Still, despite more than a decade of whoring hell, despite more than
quite a full life of fucking it was my first experience with twins.  It was
a crazy rush, and all she'd done was suck on his shitty fingers.



   Borders had noticed, too.  Suddenly he was just on the other side of the
lighting rig, his book back across the theater, sitting forgotten on his
desk.  He stood silently with his hands in his pockets, watching Angie film
us, his eyes glued to her ass, her skirt riding up dangerously high as she
clambered all over and around the mattress.  Her heels were long kicked
aside and she wore no hose.  Her inner thighs were a shining slick mess of
cuntwater it was clear she wasn't wearing panties.



   I wondered if Borders, for the first time in the two years I'd known
him, would finally reveal the gigantic tool he kept hidden in those baggy
cargo pants of his.  I wanted to see him stroke it, if only this once. 
Hell, I wanted to see him use it.  On the horny blonde bitch jumping all
around us with my camera.  But she gave no sign she even knew he was there.



   Over and over Andrew pulled globs of shit from my ass and sucked his
fingers clean, giving his sister an aftertaste every time.  A few spare
chunks slid free before I could close up once or twice, the dull splat upon
the mattress more felt than heard.  I didn't think either of them had
noticed until Angie suddenly made a dive for the small pile between my
feet, shouting, ``Time to get dirty!''



   Taking up a handful, she smacked her palm hard against Andrew's cheek,
which was at that moment surrounding my seriously edging cock.  Shit
speckled me up to my tits, but most of the slush wound up going over the
queen's eye and into his beautiful hair.  He didn't flinch at all.  He kept
right on sucking, right on digging his two fingers up deep inside my
spasming ass.



   Angie scrounged for the remainder of my droppings, painting the other
side of Andrew's face much more carefully.  Finished with his face, she ran
her hand through his hair, matting it, streaking it with brown.  Then she
plunged her fingers into her mouth, licking her hand with abandon, somehow
still managing to keep her eye glued to the viewfinder of my handheld.  I
was truly impressed.



   At my crotch, Andrew moaned.  His eyes were glued shut with my shit.  It
would probably sting like hell for him to open them.  I gathered a ton of
spit in my mouth and carefully drooled down on first his left, then his
right eyelid.  Putting my thumbs gently against his skin, I slowly massaged
his lashes free of feces.  He finally blinked, timidly at first, but
eventually with more confidence.  Apparently I'd done a pretty damn good
job.  He gazed up at me with doe eyes and sucked with renewed fervor.



   ``Jesus, how fucking beautiful,'' Angie giggled, zooming in on Andrew's
pretty blue eyes.  It annoyed me that she had taken more liberties with the
face painting, but it was keeping Borders interested.  He was still
standing right there, still watching.  That was nice.  More than nice.



   Andrew sat back on his haunches, his mouth slack, huge ropes of drool
hanging between my the head of my bobbing cock and his slimy cheeks.  The
thin white chemise clung to his chest, a wet mess of saliva and streaks of
shit.  His nipples stabbed out against the fabric, huge and fat.  I
wondered if he pumped them.  I wanted them in mouth.



   He turned to his sister with a pouty, almost guilty face.



   ``He's so full, Sissie...  there's so much...'' he fell forward onto his
stomach, then pushed his ass into the air.  ``I want it in me, Sissie.  In
me!''



   Angie zoomed in as he reached back and untied the strings at his hips,
whipping his panties away, spreading his ass apart.  His anus gaped an
inch, easy.  It was bright pink, moist, quivering.  It was all I could do
not to fall on him in full rut.  He was far and away the hottest man I'd
ever seen.



   But first, of course, to tend to the customer's needs.  ``I fist him, is
that it?  Shit in my hand or something and push it up inside him?  Is that
right?''



   Angie was backing up, away from both of us, pulling at the buttons of
her blouse, still filming her brother's delicious ass.  In a moment she was
topless, her bra coming free with one flip of her fingers, shrugging easily
off her shoulders as she juggled the camera, not missing a beat.  I was
right about her nipples they were each pierced with a thick silver bar,
from which hung a half-ring.  Her nipples were even more gigantic than her
brother's.  Her breasts were mostly, in fact, puffy nipples.  Not much fat
or tissue elsewise.  Just the big, tasty, fat tips of her teats.  Borders
whistled quietly from a couple of feet away.



   ``Well, hell, Andrew, which is it?'' Angie asked breathlessly, yanking
open the side of her skirt and letting it fall, kicking it up and over
Borders' head.  He couldn't yank a hand out of his pockets fast enough to
grab them, and he didn't turn to retrieve them, either.  He stared, like I
did, at Angie's shaved, slippery crotch.  She was pierced above her clit
with an identical bar and half-ring like her tits.  The rig seemed to push
down and out on her clit, which lewdly stuck out of her hood almost like a
little cock.  It was round and pink and wet, like the tip of a tongue.



   ``Usually,'' Angie panted, staggering over to Borders, ``it's like that
at home, like you said.  Me shitting into my hand and then putting it up
his ass.'' She pushed the camera into my bodyguard's surprised hands, then
danced over to her purse.  ``Then I fuck him with this.'' She held up a
thick black dildo secured in a harness, a really high-quality, custom-fit
strap-on.  She tossed it onto the corner of the mattress and bent down to
her purse again, emerging with a new roll of cash, rubber banded,
heavy-looking.  She threw it at Borders, who was ready that time and caught
it with ease.



   ``But I bet this time it's your shit, my hand.  Am I right, bro?''
Andrew moaned an affirmative.



   ``And my cock?'' I guessed, hopeful.  They had come all this way to see
me, after all....



   Angie giggled as she crawled up behind her brother.  ``Well, duh!'' She
immediately buried her face between Andrew's spread cheeks, her tongue
buried deep in his sphincter.  I was left standing by, not even stroking
myself, wondering what I should do.



   Glancing over at Borders, he was all business.  The cash was in his
pocket, the camera to his eye.  He was focused on Angie's ass, on her
pussy, filming the cunt drool sliding down her thighs.  I knew he'd get
plenty of her face on Andrew's shit hole, too, but for a moment I felt
almost betrayed.  She'd just hijacked my gay gigolo thing.  Goddamn!



   But I was still on the mattress, wasn't I?



   Her face suddenly separated from her brother's ass with a squelchy
little pop.  Angie turned to me in the same motion and sucked my cock down
to the root.  Caught off guard, I staggered and nearly fell on top of her.
She giggled with her mouth full, which made her gag, and she pulled back
off.



   ``Well fuck, cowboy, you ain't had a hot female mouth on your dick
before?  You scared?'' She stroked me as she taunted, a wicked, happy smile
on her wet face.  Andrew was still on all-fours, still spreading his ass,
moaning quietly.



   ``Now you get down next to that little bitch and you kiss on that pretty
mouth of his,'' she commanded, shoving at my hips.  ``While I conduct a
little business.''



   With my face pressed against the mattress, my mouth against Andrew's, my
ass in the air, I felt for the first time in a long time a deep kind of
thrill.  My tongue licked across Andrew's shitty nostrils.  I tasted my own
crap, moaned a little on own.  I got ready to push.



   ``No, goddamn it,'' Angie barked, settling herself behind us.  ``Don't
fucking shit on me!'' I felt her fingers on my asshole, wiggling, testing.
``I want to go in and get it myself.''



   She licked my hole.  Her tongue was amazing.  It was fat and soft one
moment, hard and long the next.  It felt like a corkscrew.  Like a finger.
I opened right up.  Her slobbering, hungry attack on my ass was the best
I'd had.  Ever.  No one had come close to this kind of rimming before.  I
could hardly breathe.  Drool cascaded over my balls, down to the tip of my
bouncing cock, dripping all over the mattress beneath my belly.  Andrew
watched me, smiling, rocking.  I got the impression that Angie's fist was
already inside him, opening him up, fucking him good.



   ``She's a great ass-eater, isn't she?'' he whispered, licking at my
chin, my nose.  He bit at my lips, panting.  ``But her hand feels even
better.''



   Soon enough, her entire hand simply popped right up inside my
slack-holed ass.  The stretching was sudden, intense, and perfect.  I drove
my face into the mattress and growled, and it was over.  No more pain. 
Just her hand, her wrist, her forearm inside me.



   It's hard to describe the feeling of being reamed by hand.  My cock
throbbed with every little move she made.  My prostate was quickly primed
to the point of pain.  But it was the best kind of pain.  Not the cruel
abrupt hurt of a hand splitting an ass no, the hand inside brought torment
of an entirely different kind.  I didn't want it to stop, but I did.  I
wanted to come, but I didn't.  My grunts and groans got steadily louder the
longer she worked her arm into me.  It wasn't going to take long before I
screamed.  Her hand shoved hard against my guts, and I swear it felt like
it was headed halfway up my throat.



   Reaching back, I felt her buried to within an inch of her elbow,
twisting, pushing.  She was a small woman, almost the size of a child, it
was no wonder she could get so far inside.  Her hand was flexing and
relaxing.  Her wrist undulated, turning within me in a snakelike dance. 
Then she pulled it out.  Tears came.  I wept quietly, despite myself.  I
was moaning.  The absence after that fullness!  God!  I was wide open.  I
could feel air rushing in.  I wanted that arm back!



   A thick glob of shit slid out beneath her cupped, rising palm as she
pulled her hand away.  It teetering on the edge of my gaping anus, then
slowly tumbled down over my balls and slapped down onto the mattress. 
There was a kind of sticky, sucking noise, and Andrew groaned and rolled
his shoulders beside me, his eyes rolling.  He was weeping, too.



   What a couple of hopeless queers we were!



   ``I'm shoving your shit deep up his ass, manwhore!'' Angie happily
reported.  ``Your hole's still wide open and waiting for me, isn't it?  You
want me to come get some more?''



   All I could do was grunt and nod into the mattress.  I wiggled my ass a
little.



   Then she was back in, digging, twisting, filling me.  My cock spurted on
its own, rope after rope of thick jism painting the mattress and my chest.
I kept my face in the mattress and fucked my ass back against her arm as
she kept shoving.  Spurt after spurt erupted from my spasming shaft.  My
gland swelled and clenched over and over, tight-loose-tight against her
wrist.



   ``Ahhh, somebody's feeling goooood!'' Angie crooned.  Both her hands
were busy, deep inside our asses, but I felt her shift her weight.  Her
bare foot slid beneath my cock across the mattress, digging itself into my
puddle of semen.  I could feel her toes kneading through it.  They came up
and grazed my dick.  Then she tried to capture it between her first and
second toes, but there was no way.  She was too slippery and my cock was
too thick.  It was a funny little battle, though, for the few seconds it
lasted, neither of us able to see it, fighting by feel only.  Her toes
trying to pinch my glans, my penis still dancing, crazy in the throes of my
maddening, spasming prostate.



   Eventually Angie pulled her foot back, and my ass stopped its crazy
clenching.  It felt like it would be starting up soon again, though, but
for right now it was strangely tight, swollen, and tender inside.  Angie,
mercifully, chose to withdraw her arm.  Another sludge pile of feces slid
its way over my balls and splatted between my knees.  ``Here's some more,
bitch!''



   I listened as Andrew took more of my shit within his ass.  Later I would
watch Borders' video and see that she was holding his ass open with the
hand that had been fisting him, pulling down hard and firm on the lower
half of his sphincter.  He gaped big enough for a baseball to pass through
without touching.  With that much room it was easy for her to bring over
her hand from my ass, covered in shit, with a big brown mound of it piled
up in the palm, and just put it inside.  She worked her arm in halfway to
the elbow, then turned it so the palm was down, and pulled out.  When her
arm re-emerged it was still brown, but the mass from her palm was clearly
gone.  My shit had a new home.



   Twice more she farmed inside me, and the last time I came again.  Or my
body tried.  My gland went crazy, my cock swelled and strained painfully,
but not much came out.  It felt horrible in the best kind of way, like
peeling off a scab.  I hated it.  I loved it.



   Finally she was done.  Her hand was gone.  I could feel her weight
shifting behind me, away from me, then around me.  My anus was still wide
open, and so was Andrew's.  Borders, the consummate videographer, kept the
camera on our twin gapes for a good long time, documenting their slow
return to normal, the shutting of our pink-and-brown holes against all that
dark, rank shit.



   Then Angie stepped up in front of us, slid her foot beneath Andrew's
face.



   ``Suck my fucking toes, bitch!'' she ordered him.  ``Lick this fag's
jizz off my pretty feet.''



   Her brother eagerly, sloppily licked and sucked.  My spunk was soon
gone, and her foot was shiny, slimy, and indeed quite beautiful.  She moved
it to me next, and I opened my mouth in anticipation.  But she lifted her
foot suddenly and brought it down hard on my cheek, grinding my face into
the mattress.



   ``Don't worry, it's paid for!'' she laughed.  Then the foot was gone and
she was back behind us again.  Neither Andrew nor I moved.  She squatted
low, shoulders between her splayed knees, and scraped her hands across the
mattress between my knees and Andrew's, collecting all the stray, fallen
globs of feces.  There were several quiet minutes of that, with her
grabbing up all the shit she could, passing it back and forth between her
hands.  Almost as an afterthought she'd reach out every so often and paint
a handful across my rump or Andrew's.  Mostly, she just stared at the brown
clumps on her hands, sniffing, humming.  She sounded for all the world like
a happy housewife hanging laundry.



   Borders, of course, was always in the proper position to film it all, so
in due time he zoomed in on her cunt from behind.  It was oozing freely. 
Thick white female cum sludge was flowing out of her, draining onto the
mattress.  On the video you could hear him grunt, just a little.  It was
the only sound he ever made on anything he ever filmed.



   Then Angie was up again, leaning over me from behind, grabbing me by the
hair with her rancid, shit-covered hands.  Her nude body was on fire, her
flesh as she pressed against me made me jump away reflexively, it was in
such hot contrast to my sweat-covered, clammy skin.  But she laid claim,
got hold of me good.  She yanked hard on my hair as she drove her
hard-tipped little titties into my lower back.



   ``Now it's time fuck!'' she declared, hauling on me, maneuvering me up
and onto her brother's back.  ``Get that big cock up that bitch's ass! 
Fuck the shit back out of him!''



   I don't know how soon I'd be shooting anything, but I was still plenty
hard.  It didn't take me long to dive right in.  Andrew took my weight like
a true slut, bracing himself and pushing back, getting me deeper.  Soon we
were both panting, sweating, and ignoring everything else in the world.



   The more I thrust into him, the more shit I dredged out.  My eyes
watered, stung a little from the fumes.  The rancid odor wafting up from
our combined shit was so bad!  I looked down and saw lighter and darker
brown and all kinds of strange ropes and clumps and nuggets of shit coming
out around my dick.  It squirted, popped, and splatted its way out.  My
belly and crotch was quickly, stickily covered in it.  Andrew's ass was a
thick pasty morass of sewage.  He repeatedly reached a hand back and took
some of it off, carrying it back up to him mouth.  Chewing, swallowing,
reaching back for more.



   Angie came around beside us and watched, helping Andrew gather some of
our excrement for him to feed on.  She painted her belly and small breasts
a little, too.  Then she looked me in the eyes and brought both her brown,
sludge-covered hands to her own face and smeared.  Within seconds she wore
a thick mask of shit.  It was up her nose, over her eyelids, everywhere. 
She struggled and reopened her eyes, knuckling away some of the worst of
the shit in the corners.  Ignoring the tears streaming down her face she
went back down for more of our waste, this time bringing it up onto her
head, working it into her fine, blonde and pink-streaked hair.  Soon she
was every bit a brunette.  A shit-brown stinking beast, grinning from ear
to ear.



   She stood up and straddled her brother's back, her ass only a few inches
above his spine.  She faced me and lifted one leg, settling her foot over
my shoulder, the heel resting at the top of my back.  She leaned toward me
so that our heads nearly touched, her knee crooked beside her face.  One of
her hands worked its slimy way into my hair, acquiring a grip.  The other
was down flat on her brother's back.



   We kissed.  She moaned into my mouth.  I could taste the shit she'd been
enjoying.  I hadn't seen her eat too much, not from my prior position
face-down on the mattress, but it was obvious she'd had at least a little.
Inside her mouth I found a wonderfully nasty flavor, slightly bitter,
pungent.



   I felt more than heard her.  She sort of loosened herself, then she bore
down.  She was shitting on her brother.  Our kiss lasted exactly as long as
her bowel movement.  When she was done, so were our mouths.  She broke away
from me, removed her foot from my shoulder, and staggered back to inspect
her work.



   A nicely coiled pile of thick brown shit lay atop Andrew's heaving back.
I was barely thrusting into him now.  He was mainly doing all the work,
fucking back against me while I focused on his shit-smeared sister.  He
reached back quickly and dug his hand into the side of the pile, digging
out a nice mouthful for himself.  His moans grew twice as loud, his fucking
twice as urgent, the moments he tasted his sister's shit.



   Angie laughed and pointed at her heavy, quivering mound of excrement. 
``How fucking nice is that, huh?  I've always crapped these huge monsters!
I could fucking feed an army!''



   She took a handful of her own, then, and without hesitation brought it
to my mouth.



   ``Here, have a fucking taste.''



   If I hadn't opened my mouth she'd have shoved the whole handful against
it anyway.  As it was, I barely got my lips open and teeth apart before I
had my mouthful.  The remainder on her hand went all over my face, smearing
me good.



   I chewed, swallowed several times in a row, fought the usual urge to let
it back up.  Angie's crap was heavy going down, left a kind of grassy,
dirt-on-the-roots sort of taste behind.  It was thick but without much
texture.  Kind of like what it would be like eating out of an old-fashioned
jar of art paste, if art paste tasted like shit.  It stuck to the roof of
the mouth, but in a great way.



   I loved it.



   So did they.  I looked over at Angie just in time to see her lift a
hefty helping up to her own face, taking it in with just one massive
opening of her mouth.



   ``Mmmmm,'' she mumbled, chewing for several minutes in deep
concentration, standing next to me with her eyes closed, running her
shit-covered hands all over her body.  Every now and then she would collect
more from her pile on Andrew's back, smearing both legs all the way down to
her feet, her arms from shoulders to fingertips, her armpits, her neck, her
ass, everywhere she could reach.  And all the while she was chewing,
swallowing, chewing.



   ``Here, help me out,'' she pressed a nice handful of turd at me,
muttering around her latest mouthful.  She presented her shoulder blades,
hunching over a little, working shit into her face again as I steadily
covered her back.  It was surreal.  We could've been doing suntan lotion at
the fucking beach.  She was so cool about it.  So casual.  Just how freaky
was this gorgeous girl?



   Meanwhile, Andrew kept up his furious thrusts beneath me, impaling
himself as deeply as possible on my cock.  He was getting close.  Angie
danced away from us and motioned to Borders.



   ``Come on, Little John, get your big ass up here and film this shit! 
Drew shoots like a fuckin' porn star when a dick's up his ass.  You gotta
get a low angle!  He's gonna blow real soon!''



   Borders obligingly wobbled up onto the mattress and bent over, holding
the camera down between his calves, almost resting it on the mattress.  He
stared down intently into the eyepiece, focusing carefully on the bobbing,
swelling head of Andrew's cock.



   Angie got behind me then and began working her hand back up inside my
rectum.  I didn't know if I could take it!  Andrew was bashing his ass
against my hips, while his sister was assaulting my anus from behind.  I
felt trapped, stabbed, and fucked.  It was all I could do to keep quiet; I
felt an insane urge to scream.  Angie was twisting and turning her hand
back and forth inside me, punching gently up into my guts.  Andrew's
asshole clenched and pulled on my dick, hammering it hard, rocking it deep
up inside his filthy ass full of his shit an mine.



   I couldn't believe I was getting paid to feel this fucking good.



   ``Oh yeah, cowboy,'' Angie purred in my ear, ``I think you like girls,
too, don'tcha?'' She got on her knees then and slid her other hand slowly
up inside me, withdrawing the other.  Over and over she alternated hands,
sliding one past the other in and out of me, until a crazy pressure finally
hit me, making me groan claw at Andrew's hips for support.  Angie's hands
had met inside me, clasping, clenching.



   ``Take it, manwhore!'' Angie screamed.  ``Take it deep!'' She shoved
harder and harder.  I'd been double-fisted before, but never without a lot
of discussion, planning, and Crisco beforehand.  And never without a sling.
There I was on my knees fucking somebody, I mean, what the hell?!  The
angle alone was dangerous.  She was going to fucking tear me open!  All she
had to do was flex her wrists apart.  I felt like I might fucking die.  I
could rip right apart at any moment.



   ``Drew-baby,'' Angie called, ``are you ready?  Ready to fucking come?''
Andrew only moaned in response and kept right on impaling himself.  Angie
went on talking.  ``'Cos I got both my fucking hands inside this gorgeous
hunk of man your fucking.  Both hands, Drew!  I'm fucking his ass while he
fucks the shit out of you!  You're a fucking shitwhore, Drew!  A fucking
faggot shitwhore!!''



   Andrew convulsed with a mewing, strangled kind of cry, shuddering from
head to toe and jamming himself violently onto my cock.  I could feel his
prostate pumping hard, over and over.  In the video it was amazing.  Semen
got all over the camera lens.  Borders had been at least two feet away from
Andrew's face, straight in front of him, angling for shot to catch Andrew's
face and his ejaculation both.  It wasn't just the mattress and the camera
that got it, though jet after jet of jism sprayed Andrew's belly, chest,
and face, too.



   ``That's it, baby!'' Angie shouted from behind me.  ``Come hard!  Make a
big fucking sticky mess!''



   Shaking even more violently than before, Andrew finally slumped forward
onto his stomach, sliding off my shit-covered cock.  His face fell right
into a puddle of his own cum.  He immediately began to absently lick at it,
his eyes closed, his breathing heavy.  His asshole gaped open, all kinds of
shades of brown shit caked all around it, clumps and lumps and streaks of
turd everywhere.  I could see the pink and red insides of him.  Pulsating
flesh.  Oozing folds of rectal tissue, rectal slime everywhere in there,
gray-brown glimmers of wetness.



   ``Like the view, baby?'' Angie growled, flexing her hands menacingly,
deliciously.  ``Is he wide open?  Can you see right up his fucking ass?''



   Borders was beside Andrew, getting a shot of his tongue lapping at his
own jism.  Then he came up beside me and filmed the slender queer's gaped,
destroyed ass.  I stole a look at Borders in profile, wondering how turned
on he might be.  But, as usual, it was impossible to tell.  His mass of
curly hair fell all around his face.  He was hidden from me.  I glanced at
his pants.  Nothing.  Stupid fucking baggy cargo fucking pants!  He
could've had the biggest hard-on of his life, and I'd never be able to
tell.



   Then the lens swung around at me, at my dick, and I looked down.  I was
a mess of splattered, smashed, streaked, stinking shit.  My cock head was
purple, with a heavy collar of crap wedged hard all the way around beneath
the flared rim.  My balls were caked.  Everywhere I looked there was brown
sludge inching slowly toward the mattress, no longer trapped between Andrew
and I, no longer getting smashed stickily back and forth between crotch and
ass.



   ``All right, cowboy, time for dessert!''



   Angie pulled up, just a little, and I was suddenly face-first in
Andrew's ass, straining away from her in pain.  But I couldn't get away. 
She followed me forward, kept her arms in place, her hands deep inside me.
But the pain was soon gone, the angle much better, and I wasted no time. 
My mouth sucked hard against Andrew's asshole, my tongue digging in deep,
tasting the filth inside, slurping up the sewage.  I brought my face out
and spit a mouthful onto Andrew's back.  Then went back for more and did it
again.  His ass was like a slowly bubbling spring of shitwater.  The more I
sucked up, the more flowed up to replace it.



   I felt Borders move around again, getting a shot of Angie's arms moving
back and forth in my ass.  She was halfway up to her elbows, carefully
keeping them together, concentrating more sweetly than I would have
expected.  The video caught her expression pretty well.  She wasn't quite
the freaky domme I'd assumed.  She looked worried about doing it right, not
really hurting me, and making me feel good.  Her brows were knit.  She was
biting her lip a little.  I was busy spitting ass juice onto her twin
brother's exhausted, shit-smeared back.  She was busy perfectly
double-fisting the queer shitwhore who'd given her brother the best
shit-fuck of his life.



   ``You like that, don't you?'' Angie cooed at me.  My pelvis was up off
the mattress just enough to let her in at a great angle.  My face was
buried again in Andrew's asshole, slurping and sucking.  I grunted my
appreciation as best I could and rocked my hips back against her thrusting
hands.



   ``Know what, cowboy?'' she purred.  ``I think it's time for a drink. 
Don't you?''



   Her hands were suddenly out.  I was wide open, full of air, empty.  I
knew I was probably every bit as gaped as Andrew.  Probably more.  My ass
went down twice as deep, too.  It had to.  Angie's fucking arms had been
inside me!  Borders made sure to catch it, getting the perfect angle, my
rectum pried open, my anus dilated as big around as a grapefruit.  I was
clean inside, though, unlike Andrew.  No sludge or slime.  No gray-brown
weird goop.  Just pink and red and wet.



   I collected myself and waited, letting Borders get the shot.  Angie
wanted a drink.  Would she be the one pouring or swallowing?  Before I
could roll over or look up or anything, I got my answer.



   ``Hold your ass open, OK?'' Angie commanded, straddling my hips.  ``I'm
gonna fill you right fucking up!''



   Not that my asshole needed help staying open, but I reached back and did
as she said anyway.  Her calves soon pressed hard against my splayed hands,
my hips held tight in the grip of her squatting legs.  Her spread pussy was
right over my asshole.  She held her lips apart and let loose.  A hissing
jet of hot piss thundered down inside me.  I quivered involuntarily,
jumping at the intense heat of her urine as it cascaded into the far
reaches of my tender, over-stimulated rectum.



   I'd been pissed in before by more dicks, in fact, than I could ever hope
to count.  Piss enemas were pretty standard in my line of work.  I'd even
held myself open for them before, letting the john fill me right up.  I'd
never, though, had piss come into me so heavy and so fucking hot.  I jerked
and cried out, despite myself.  My cock ground against the mattress beneath
me in a whole new realm of throbbing agony.



   ``You like that, don'tcha, cowboy?'' Angie sneered.  ``You love my piss
up your ass!  You're such a filthy fucking sonofabitch!''



   Hilarious, of course, coming from a woman completely covered in three
people's shit.  Nevertheless, I did fuck the mattress a little more
intensely after she said that.  I was, after all, an undeniably filthy
fucking sonofabitch.  I did indeed love her piss up my ass.



   After what seemed like forever she finally finished, reaching down and
shoving my ass cheeks together, rubbing them, making my hole slowly close
back up.



   ``OK, Drew-baby, are you thirsty?'' Angie crooned, stepping around to
kneel beside her brother's face.  She used a fingernail to scrape a smiley
face out of the shit on his cheek.  ``Roll over, baby.''



   I carefully scrabbled back away from Andrew's ass, out from between his
legs, but I remained very cautiously on my hands and knees.  My butt was
full to the brim with warm piss, and the lid wasn't on very tight.  If I
moved too much I knew I'd lose it.



   Angie and her twin brother were soon each lying on a hip,
chest-to-chest, their shit-slimed legs sliding back and forth together, his
cock still long and hard, squashed between their bellies.  Their arms were
around each other, and each had a hand on the other's nipple, twisting and
pulling.  Their shit-caked faces were pressed hard together.  They kissed
deeply, obviously wildly in love.  Borders and I did nothing but watch for
a long time.



   Finally, though, they were ready for me.  Angie broke off their kiss and
pointed her face and Andrew's up toward the ceiling, their cheeks pressed
together.



   ``All right, stud,'' she called out.  ``Time to pop a fucking squat!''



   I crawled slowly until I was level with their heads, then I got myself
gently into position.  The sloshing weight of the piss was almost
unbearable.  It was liquid shit, of course, more golden than brown, and it
wanted out!  Only a miracle of willpower kept my anus closed as I wiggled
and leaned myself into the proper height and angle.



   And then, just before I relaxed and let nature have its way, Angie
reached up and slapped me hard on the rump.



   ``Fucking let go!  Give us that hot shitty piss!''



   She was barely done screaming before I lost it.  The slap had shocked my
muscles past the point of my control.  My asshole let loose.  Looking down
between my legs, I watched as a torrent of piss blasted onto the twins'
faces.  Their mouths were open and their eyes were closed.  I waggled my
ass around to be sure and spread the deluge evenly over both their pretty
faces.  They were gulping, swallowing, spluttering.  It was up their noses,
in their ears, and certainly down their throats.  They were smiling,
licking at each other's faces, licking at the yellow stream of Angie's
steaming piss.



   Borders was right there, filming it all.  Holding the camera low, near
their heads, he was able to get some great shots.  The lens got splattered
again, of course, but that simply added to the overall intensity of the
moment.  Then, when I was done and shakily collapsed nearby, he zoomed in
on the two of them kissing again, licking the pissy shit off their skin,
moaning and grinning and swallowing.



   ``Fucking awesome!'' Angie sighed.  She called out to me but she
couldn't see me.  I was on the other side of Andrew.  ``You sure as fuck
know how to make a couple perverts happy!''



   I grunted.  ``Any time, ma'am.'' And I meant it.  I'd made a whole lot
of fucking money, that was for sure.  Angie had gotten her way, but she'd
paid for her way, too.  That was fair.



   One more long shot of the two siblings, covered in shit, kissing,
squirming against each other, feeding each other little bits and piece of
shit they picked off the mattress or out of each other's hair.  I was
curled up an arm's length away, watching them cool down, trying not to feel
too much about it all, not even sure what those feelings would be, anyway,
if I were to let myself have them.



   Then Andrew piped up, his voice high, thin, and exhausted.  ``But
Sissie, you haven't come yet, have you?  Don't you want to?''



   ``Only if you two queers are up to it,'' she taunted, rolling over on
top of her brother, straddling him.  She slid his shit-slicked cock easily
up inside the puffy wet lips of her cunt.  Then she looked over at me and
reached back, patting her own ass.



   ``Come on, cowboy,'' she grinned, ``mount up and ride!''



   Honestly, I was tired.  I'd come gigantically already, then I'd been
forced into coming again, but too soon.  I was sore all over the insides of
my ass, my asshole hurt in a weird, almost injured way, and I had the
strangest shivers.  My mouth was a cesspool, feces was stuck to my teeth
and wedged up high in my gums, and my jaw ached.  One of my eyes stung like
hell and wouldn't stop watering, and both my nostrils were plugged full of
shit.  I could barely fucking breathe.  But they had me until midnight. 
They'd paid more than enough for that.  I had no choice but to get up and
fuck that bitch in the ass.



   Tough job, but somebody's got to do it!



   -----



   by bluepervina, ?  2011, all rights reserved

   bluepervina [AT] gmail [DOT] com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/bluepervina/www
   
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