****** Jose, the Puerto Rican Shitter by Rich Dick ******
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Jose, the Puerto Rican Shitter


I'm no shit eater and never will be because I don't think it's a healthy
practice. Nor do I engage in scat sex because I would find it extremely
disgusting, so my story may appear somewhat perplexing to some but it is
nevertheless true.

When I first met Jose, we immediately formed a bond. He had a hard little body,
compact with a tight little butt that would cause any normal guy to spring a
hard-on. If he were in a prison setting, his would be the first ass pounced
upon, I guarantee. He always wore his shirt hanging out of his jeans not
wishing to show his gorgeous tail, but his shirt consistently settled above his
well-defined butt and only served to highlight its perfect form. Right from the
start, we would acknowledge my interest in him with both disdain and
fascination, often triggering in me a state of total arousal. So it became
commonplace that I would take liberties with h im in order to enjoy his
negative though homoerotic responses to my advances. He would spit towards me;
he would fart and belch openly right in my face. Once he blew his nose between
his fingers and smeared his snot on my shirt. Whatever he did only served to
arouse me further.

Once I told him how turned on I got when he'd spit so now he frequently spits
whenever he sees me. He belches, farts and sneezes on me. Once he threw a
snotty Kleenex into my face.

"Jose, nothing you could possibly do could ever disgust me," I told him.

"Oh yeah," he said, "what if I sat on your face and had diarrhea?" Well, that
was far fetched, but this guy turned me on like no one ever had, and I could
not imagine being disgusted by him no matter what he did.

One day on my way back from morning break, I saw Jose going into the john. I
waited a while before heading there. Once inside, I saw that no one else was
there and that he had entered the middle stall. With some trepidation and an
enormous hard on, I entered the adjacent stall and dropped my pants. To my
surprise, I could clearly see his boxer shorts down around his ankles, and to
my great amazement, I also observed piss stains and an obvious skid mark on his
otherwise white shorts. Just when I thought my excitement was at its peak, I
heard him strain and grunt and then heard a gigantic plop as his turd dropped
into the water. From the sound of it, I'm sure he splashed water right up his
open asshole. Instantly, the strongest smell of shit I had ever smelled wafted
its way under the stall, and as I became more and more intoxicated by the smell
of fresh Puerto Rican shit, I nearly shot my load. Never in my life had I
smelled anything as heady, it was like taking a hit of poppers.

After he gave his asshole a cursory wipe, he flushed and left in a hurry. I
stayed there and took in the smell of his shit as long as the smell lingered.
Then I returned to the workroom floor where I ran smack into Jose. Not wishing
to mince words, I told him directly, "Hey, Jose, you've got shit streaks on
your skivvies, don't you know how to wipe your ass?"

He just looked at me and smirked and said, "Hey, pervert, was that you in the
john?" Later in the day, I ran into him again and told him how wonderful he
smelled for someone who didn't wipe his ass very well. He didn't say a word.

About a week later, I was minding my own business and doing my work, when Jose
passed by and tossed a soiled toilet paper into my face. At first I didn't
think it unusual because he had done it before. But then I noticed the tell-
tale signs of ass wipe on the paper. I couldn't take my eyes off it and I took
the tissue and inhaled deeply to verify my suspicions.

He turned and smirked at me, saying "Hey hombre, I left a burrito for you. Why
don't you go get it?"

As humiliated as I was, I disappeared into the john. Fortunately, no one was
there but the strong aroma of shit hung in the air. I entered the first two
stalls and saw nothing. Disappointed, I entered the third stall and there it
was--the most beautiful 10-inch turd I had ever seen. It was a single turd with
a large, knotty head tapering off in the rear. It rested there on top of a pile
of toilet paper, the water around it golden brown. What should I do? I fell to
my knees and fished out this beautiful, slimy, mucus-covered turd with my bare
hands and brought it to my nose. Turd juice dripped from my hands onto my
clothing. As I took in its shitty fragrance, I suddenly lost control and shot a
tremendous load of cum against the commode. In my excitement, I dropped the
slippery turd and it fell from my hands into my underwear. Disgusted now after
my orgasm, I lifted the heavy turd from my soiled underwear and quickly flushed
the foul thing down the toilet and hastily returned to the workroom floor.

A few days later I came to regret my decision. I had held in my hands the most
beautiful Puerto Rican turd the world had ever produced, smelled its rich
fragrance and felt its wonderful slimy texture, and then flushed it down the
toilet. How I now regretted my loss of this great cargo. I firmly resolved to
redeem my actions at the first opportunity.

In the most heated frenzy, I searched out Jose. I found him hot and sweaty
after having loaded a truck in the 95 degree heat. I stared at him, smelled him
and craved him with all my heart. His unshaven face and soiled clothes only
turned me on more. He smelled slightly raunchy. He knew what was up. And I knew
now that there was no turning back.

"What's up, burrito?" he asked.

"Can I watch you take a shit," I asked bluntly. "I'll do anything you ask. I
just want to watch you drop your turds. More than anything in the world, I want
to see you take a dump ."

He just smirked and said, "Five Hundred Dollars."

I knew then that I was lost. I just had to see his turd shoot open, his hairy
asshole part as he dumped the rich and fetid contents of his intestines. Money
meant nothing to the pleasure of seeing his hairy ass lips open up to push out
a hard, smelly shit log.

So all I said was, "Agreed."

Throughout the day, I kept a raging hard-on, unable to think of anything other
than Jose passing his smelly man-turds in full view of an ardent admirer.
Around closing time, Jose came up to me and calmly said that he had to take a
shit really badly. From the way he paced back and forth, I could tell he was
having trouble holding it in.

"I'll be in the toilet in the park," he said, "but I ain't no faggot and I
don't want you touching me." Just to insure my continued interest, he cut a
loud and very smelly fart before turning his tail and heading out towards the
park.

Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the nearly deserted park and searched out
the john. There were only two stalls, so I entered the one not occupied. To the
left was a gigantic glory hole about nine inches in diameter. I immediately
recognized Jose's red T-shirt and his jeans down around the ankles. Even more
surprising was the sight of his gigantic pinga, hard and uncut, with the rosy
head just slightly peeking out of its protective covering.

He recognized me immediately and instructed, "Don't touch. Did you bring the
money?"

I handed a wad of bills through the hole and then begged "Now let me see that
tight little shit hole dump some steamy man-turds."

He turned his back to me and then sat sideways on the commode. He sat there
silently for a while, then lifted one leg and sent a smelly fart in my
direction. He turned his head and smiled and then stood up and pulled his ass
checks apart. I nearly fainted a t the gorgeous sight of his hairy bunghole.
How I longed to tongue that tight little orifice. He strained once or twice.
The lips of his anus first flared out, then puffed up and finally dilated into
a dark little opening that gradually enlarged until I could see clearly
something deep within him. I moaned loudly. This only seemed to stimulate him
and he opened up even more. His asshole winked at me several times as though to
say "I know what you want," and then I gazed for the first time on the rosy
interior of his turd chute, delicate and never before seen by man or beast. The
tip of a turd appeared and I got the first intoxicating whiff of his shit. I
inhaled deeply. He held his turd there for several seconds for me to admire and
then strained again and pushed out about five inches. The stretched anal lips
clung tightly to the dark turd. He turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Hey, hombre, you like my burrito?" he asked. "Smell my shit, man; you like how
good my shit smells. Tell me you like my shit, man."

"I like your shit, Jose, I like how it looks and smells. Can I please see
more." I nearly shot my load as he pushed out his perfect turd. It plopped out
of his anus and hit the water with a big splash. Water hit me in the eye but I
kept my eye glued on his asshole, afraid I would miss even a tidbit of what was
to come next. His anus melted shut and the black hairs quickly covered the
little opening so that it was all but invisible. He squeezed his sphincter a
couple of times and then sent a blast of farts into my face that almost caused
me to pull back from the glory hole. He fingered his asshole briefly as if to
coax out another turd. Then he pulled his ass lips apart so I could view the
rosy interior of his shit chute. He strained again and out came the most
fantastic rope of shit one could imagine, softer and lighter in color but of
magnificent fragrance. The flies were swarming around him just hankering for a
taste, that's how wonderful it smelled. In the cool Autumn air, the hot shit
sent up a puff of steam. A fly settled close to his anal opening, but another
blast of farts sent it away without a taste. When he had finished producing
this glorious offering, I could see, as he turned, that his foreskin had
snapped back and the rosy head of his dark prick glistened with sex juices and
a trace of head cheese. I felt my prick suddenly swell up uncontrollably and I
quickly rammed it through the glory hole just as I began shooting a tremendous
load of cum into his stall.

Now he was shouting, "Pervert, don't get any of that shit on me."

When I pulled back out and glanced through the glory hole, I could see cum
splattered on his red T-shirt and long streams running down his brown, hairy
legs. I wondered if it was just my cum or both of ours. On the floor, he had
sprayed a big puddle of piss that must have been released when he pushed out
his turds. He quickly wiped, flushed the toilet and, as an after thought,
tossed his soiled shit paper through the hole. Counting his money, he then left
without so much as washing his hands.

I sat there for a long time and thought about what had passed. Then I looked at
the shit paper he had tossed through the hole. There was a long, dark streak of
shit on it and several black, kinky ass hairs were pasted to the shit streaks.
I brought the paper to my nose and inhaled deeply. To my surprise, it smelled
not only of shit but of fresh cum and a hint of head cheese. He must have wiped
the cum from his legs and shirt and prick after he had wiped his ass. I felt
myself getting rock hard again but resolved to save this treasure for a lonely
night. Instead, I strained and pushed out a couple of my own hard turds. After
wiping thoroughly, I stood up to mull up my jeans. A long strand of glistening
pre-cum yo-yoed its way from my prick head all the way to the floor. I left my
turds there for others to enjoy and left the toilet a horny but satisfied man.
As an afterthought, I returned to his stall to examine the puddle of piss he
had left. In the puddle were several globs of cum. I took out my handkerchief
and soaked up the precious Puerto Rican fluids and added the soiled
handkerchief to my treasure trove for the day.

As I was leaving the shithouse, a skinny teenager, about 16, nearly knocked me
over as he skate boarded into the toilet. A little curious, I waited on a
nearby park bench to see what he was up to. After about fifteen minutes, he
skated out of the toilet and glanced my way with a shit-eating grin on his
face. In front of me, he did a little flip with his skateboard before skating
off into the distance. More curious now than ever, I returned to the toilet and
went into my old stall. To my surprise only one of my turds remained. He had
been most selective in choosing the knotty one and had apparently made a real
mess devouring it. Shitty finger prints ringed the lid of the toilet seat. Then
I saw it--long strands of creamy boy cum dripping from the porcelain commode
were he had sprayed his precious juices. Unable to constrain myself, I licked
up the tangy boy cream from the white porcelain. Never had I tasted such a
creamy load and I savored the tangy goo in my mouth until the flavor left. I
licked the commode again hoping for more boy cum and then spotted a large
puddle on the floor which I eagerly slurped up. I wondered briefly if I had
committed a jailable offense by eating boy cum in private. After I left the
park I saw the kid down the street doing jumps on his skateboard, invigorated
from the snack he had consumed in the toilet.

That evening, I spent the hours sniffing Jose's shitty toilet paper and the cum
and piss soaked handkerchief, longing for my next encounter with him. Although
I was down $500, I had a life-time of memories. And just who knows what secret
sentiment I had touched in Jose so that some day he may let me actually have
sex with him. I longed to see him tomorrow and make arrangements for our next
meeting, but I didn't want to put out another $500.

The next morning, Jose showed up in the same red T-shirt, cum streaks clearly
visible. He was unshaven and smelled slightly raunchy which only turned me on
more. He ignored me all morning, knowing full well that he had me in his hands,
completely at his disposal.

Around nine o'clock he said, "Hey, hombre, I'm hungry; go get me something to
eat."

I didn't respond because I was so used to his asking me for things. But he
persisted, "Come on man, get me something to eat so I can feed you later."

My dick hardened in an instant. Like I said, I would never consider eating
shit, not even his, although I would really love to drink his hot Puerto Rican
piss and swallow his spicy cum.

"Get going man, I'm hungry," he persisted.

I went out and got him two cheeseburgers, fries and a tub of potato salad. When
I returned, I watched him eat with gusto, smacking his lips and belching
frequently. When he had finished, he lifted one leg and let out a smelly fart.

"Getting hungry?" he asked.

"I can't do that, Jose," I protested.

"Wanna bet? Smell your dinner," he smirked as he belched right in my face. He
got up and scratched his ass as headed back to work.

All day long I worked with a throbbing hard-on, fantasizing about his shitty
asshole surrounded by thick black hair. I knew I couldn't do what he suggested
but I could go one step before that and maybe have him think I was doing his
bidding.

Finally, around closing time, I went up to Jose and said, "I'm hungry now, can
I have my dinner?"

"Man, you better be hungry because I've got some major unloading to do. Meet me
in the back lot," he said as he sauntered out into the evening air.

My prick almost broke through my jeans as I followed him down rows and rows of
stacked pallets. Finally, at the end of a row, he turned into a little cul-de-
sac. "Hombre, over here," he yelled.

There in the twilight I watched as Jose jumped up on the stack of pallets. I
walked up to him, my head at his crotch level. He opened his fly and pulled out
his prick and before I knew what was happening he sent a blast of hot piss
right in my face.

"Drink up, pervert" he said, "and get ready for your dinner."

I did all I could to catch as much of his hot piss as I could without touching
him. It had a delicious flavor, syrupy and tangy. His piss splashed wildly
through his overlapping foreskin but was quickly cut off when he suddenly
sprung a hard-on. I could smell his cheesy cockhead as the foreskin receded
from his hardening prick. He blasted a final spurt right in my eye. Finally,
the hard prick cut off the flow of piss completely and he was left standing
there with his hard prick staring me in the face. I yearned to clean the cheesy
film from his rosy cock head. A strand of precum began to leak from his prick.
He flicked the clear liquid into my face. I pulled out my own prick and began
to beat it furiously, almost certain that I could stand no more arousal and
would shoot my load shortly.

When he saw my arousal, he smirked, "Mierda, you are one sick puppy," as he
spit a glob of phlegm right into my face.

He then unbuckled his belt, turned around and dropped his jeans and shorts. A
dark skid mark was clearly visible on his shorts. Squatting over the edge of
the pallets, he exposed his hairy ass to my view.

"Don't touch me, pervert, but come and get your dinner."

I walked up close, his anus just inches from my nose. I became intoxicated with
his smell--manly and musky with just a hint of shit. I inhaled deeply and had
to do all I could to prevent myself from plunging my tongue into his ripe
asshole. Instead, I blew air unto the black hairs surrounding his steamy shit
hole. He rewarded me with a burst of smelly farts.

"Get ready to dine out, man, I can't hold it any longer."

Then I saw it, the most incredible sight on the face of the earth. His ass lips
puffed out, once, twice and then, on the third try, the eye dilated as the tip
of his shitload began to push out. The smell hit me strong and I nearly lost my
resolve never to take shit into my mouth. And then it came, an endless flow of
shit, all in one piece, flowing like an eel out of his hairy asshole. As I
savored the fetid odor, I marveled at how his anus flared out like a piece of
tubing as it formed his shit into a long sausage.

"Aah, mierda," he sighed in pleasure as the shit escalated from his anus.

In just seconds his mile long turd snaked its way out of his shit hole and fell
to the damp ground. He squeezed his sphincter a couple of times and then with a
blast of farts sprayed my face with small particles of shit.

"Una mas, una mas!" he pleaded.

He strained again and quickly pushed out a 6-inch turd from deep within his
gut. I let it fall into my hand where I felt its warmth and wjatched the steam
rise from the turd. His asshole made several more tight contractions but
yielded no more treasure.

"Aah, that felt good, hombre" he muttered as he sent a farewell blast of farts
my way.

Then he wiped his ass with his finger, flipping an inch long piece of shit into
my face; the turd dropped into my shirt opening and settled somewhere down
around my stomach where I felt it warm stickiness.

Spinning around, he smeared his soiled finger across my lips and suddenly
screamed "EEEY, faggot! leche! leche!" as he unexpectedly sent a volley of hot
cum across my face.

"I'm out of here, puto; don't waste that mecos," he said as he pulled up his
jeans, grabbed his lunch bucket and left for home.

There in the near dark I fell to my knees and worshipped his defecation. It lay
there on the ground like link sausage in a coil with the end fltipped over the
main trail. How could such an abundant turd pile come from such a little guy. I
closely examined his turds and admired their perfection. I wondered briefly how
much I had contributed to them, whether they were in fact the meal I had fed
him or if they were from his earlier meal which the hamburgers had displaced.
But these gigantic manturds did smell meaty and their fragrance convinced me
that they were in fact from the hamburgers. I took the dark knotty end of his
turd in my hand and admired it. I smelled its rich pungency and rubbed the
slimy turd on my cheek. It broke away from the rest of the pile and I laid the
long, hard log into my lunch bucket, careful not to disfigure its perfect
profile. I collected as much of his turd pile as I could. My hands were covered
with his shit and I rubbed my nose with it so that his scent never left me.
Before I put the lid on my lunch box, I shot a tremendous load of cum on top of
his shit. It looked like cream on a fudge sundae. Through all this, his cum was
running down my face and I kept lapping it up. In my excitement, I had
forgotten about the shitty fingers he had smeared on my lips and now I tasted
his shit for the first time. As abhorred as I was, I couldn't part with his
shit and took his entire load with me as I left for home. Only then did I
realize that Jose hadn't asked for any money. For the price of two hamburgers I
got a whole lunch bucket full of pure Puerto Rican gold--enough to last me a
life-time if I didn't squander it. And I came away with a new appreciation for
what a guy could do with a $10 lunch, a hard little body and an eight-hour
wait. I resolved once again never to eat shit, but I was already looking
forward to our next meeting.

The End

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