Shitty Boyfriend (Amy's Story)

It has come to my attention that an ex-boyfriend of mine named Gene Zedoun wrote a story about me. While he didn't use my last name, everyone in our hometown knows exactly who he's talking about. Accordingly, I leveraged a certain photo of him that's still in my possession to force him to upload this story of mine onto his page. Truly, he doesn't want anyone seeing that photograph, and I don't blame him. How embarrassing: a grown man with feces and sperm all over his face, and another man's cock at his lips...

Oops, did I give away the ending?

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MY STORY:

First things first, my name's Amy and I am not a "good time girl," as Gene claims. When I fucked the brother of his friend in a car, that was only the third guy I'd ever slept with. Hardly a high body count for a then-20-year-old.

As for Gene, I had a crush on him throughout the summer we worked for the parks department. He hardly noticed me despite practically throwing myself at him. He was always too wrapped up with his own clique, mostly male friends. I should've seen the signs... more on that later.

The night we first had sex is described pretty accurately in Gene's story. That crazy party in the woods. It was a full moon. I remember I had just finished my period and was feeling energized. Gene came on to me from the moment I arrived. He suggested we swap underwear then took his shorts off right there by the campfire in front of everyone. The flickering light danced across his erection. I was shocked, but his friends acted like it was the most ordinary thing. I made everyone turn around when I pushed my own jeans down and stepped out of my comic-strip undies. I handed them to Gene and he handed me his white briefs. He pulled on my panties and turned Garfield into Pinocchio. We all laughed.

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Sure, I gave Gene a blowjob in the cabin. I was happy to. Someone kept knocking at the door, however, so we had to exit and go outside. A much less romantic spot. I sat on Gene's lap and cinched my flower down onto his thick rod. I leaned forward and hugged him while he kissed my neck. That made me forget all about scratchy pine needles.

He never even gave me his phone number afterward. I had to ask around to find out he was going to the state college north of town. I wasn't sure if he wanted a relationship or not, but I figured it was worth a shot. As he described in his story, I called... and called. Maybe my number was coming up as "UNKNOWN"? Finally, he picked up and agreed to let me come visit.

His off-campus apartment was small but clean. There was a mattress on the floor. Our first night was magical. He went down on me for a really long time, lavishing attention on my backside. No one had ever kissed me there before.

After Gene fell asleep, I got curious. Who was this man? He could be a serial killer for all I knew. So, I did what any woman would: I searched his drawers. The man snores like a chainsaw, so I had no fear of getting caught. Eventually, I found his porn stash, and boy was it a doozy! Some normal-looking magazines, DVD's and VHS tapes on top, but down the stack was a mag called "MNPWR" which had on its front cover a leather-clad dude with a mustache jerking off another dude's hairy cock. There was also a magazine from Japan that had umpteen shots of women squatting over guys' faces and peeing or pooping on them! I was stunned. It never crossed my mind that people would do such a thing.

'Well, if that's what my man's into,' I thought, 'I'm game.'

The next morning, before leaving, I went pee in Gene's toilet and "forgot" to flush. Let's just say I was testing the waters.

Next time I visited, I "forgot" to flush again; this time leaving a huge turd in the bowl. I wiped my ass and carefully placed the shit-smeared toilet paper face-up. I closed the bathroom window. It stank in there!

When I called later, I specifically asked Gene if I had left anything behind or forgotten to do something. This was his chance to object to my uncleanliness. Instead, he informed me that everything was fine. In fact, we now know that after I left, he had his head down in that toilet bowl enjoying my aroma.

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My feelings for Gene were growing deeper. While I worried about his same-sex attraction, I was eager to fulfill any other fantasies he might have.

The next time I visited him I had to poo so bad! I was holding it for the right moment. I must have farted 10 times that night. I even pulled the covers over his head once while he was sleeping to give him an extra whiff. He kept snoring.

We ate breakfast at a diner. My bowels were about to burst. After we got home, I suggested we do 69. He stripped down immediately and leaped onto the bed like a happy dog. I crawled over him like a cat. By the time I brushed my tits and nipples across his body, his dick was stiff. I straddled his face and Gene started sniffing my butthole as usual.

"Zzzzrrt!" Gas blast. My farts are lethal when I'm holding in a poop. After one mild complaint his nose was back in my crack. That's when I decided to do it...

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In his version Gene says I was "gauging his reaction" by slowly letting my log out inch by inch. And, that's true. But also, hovering over a man about to crap on his face is a powerful feeling. I wanted to savor it. Finally, I let go...

Gene gasped!

I glanced back and saw a perfect poop spanning from chin to forehead. Elated, I pushed back and mashed his face with my cheeks. His tongue and nose were like mini-penises rubbing against my clitoris and asshole. His boner was bobbing up and down with each pulse of blood surging into it. I started licking and sucking it. He rubbed poop on his shaft and cockhead, and I tasted my own fundament for the first time. It was foul, but I was too far gone to care. Soon, Gene ejaculated in my mouth. Without thinking, I spun around and started making out with him. Tongue kissing with stringy cum, shit and pussy juice. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever done.

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Then the fucker ghosted me.

He stopped returning my calls and texts. Like a switch turning off. I was seriously heartbroken and walked around for half a day crying. Eventually, sadness turned to rage!

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Tito is an old friend. He was the first guy I ever gave a handjob to. The first guy I ever made cum. As I plotted my revenge against Gene Zedoun, I knew Tito could play a role.

"Tito, what do you think about scat?"

"You mean the singing style?"

"No, dummy. Poop!"

"Huh?"

"You know, when a woman poops on a man's face."

"That's not a thing."

"It is a thing. And, I want to do it to you."

"What!? Why??"

"Just lie down."

Believe it or not, he did as instructed. That's loyalty!

"Here's the plan," I explained while pulling off Tito's shorts and freeing his oversized penis, "I am going to shit in your mouth and take a picture of it. Then I'll send the picture to my so-called boyfriend Gene. It'll make him so jealous that he'll come sniffing around again. And, when he does, I'll maneuver him into a compromising situation and take a photo of him. That way I'll have something to hold over his head forever."

"Damn girl! Remind me never to piss you off. But, what does this have to do with you shitting on my face?"

"Because it'll make Gene jealous. See, he gets sexually aroused by women's poop and pee. It's like an addiction. And, how many other women will do that for him like I did?"

"You did!?"

"I did. Now open wide."

"Wait a..."

Zzrrrtttt.... Plooppp.

Snap. SAVE. "Thinking of you, Gene." SEND.

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That did the trick. Gene wrote to tell me he was coming home for Thanksgiving break. My plan was taking shape.

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"Tito, I know someone who would definitely suck your cock."

"Who, your boyfriend that you hate?"

"I don't hate him."

"Oh. But, you are blackmailing him."

"No, not at all. I just want some incriminating evidence against him. A nuclear option."

"I don't understand. Is your boyfriend gay?"

"He's not my boyfriend. And, yes I think he's a little gay. I found a fag-rag hidden in his apartment with a bunch of pictures of men humping each other."

"Sounds pretty gay."

"Either way, he hurt me bad, and I want to get back at him."

"By having him suck my dick?"

"Yes, and more. I'm going to use his fetish against him. If we can lure him into a threesome with you and me, he'll let me shit on his face and then you can rub your cock all over him, especially in his eyes. He won't be able to see when I grab the camera. I'll take a picture. BOOM! It's perfect."

"It's fucked up."

"It's fucking perfect."

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And that's how it went down.

Gene's story is accurate about the hotel night, except that he never realized it was all a setup. Tito and I teased & pleased him with cock, pussy, shit and piss. Then we left him cold. Poor thing, heehee. No surprise to read in Gene's story that he got into the bathtub after we left and used Tito's jizz to lube up and fuck his own fist.

He'll certainly never touch my pussy again.

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You got that, Gene? You will never be touching my pussy or sniffing my asshole again.