HOMEFirst Anniversary:
A Trip to the Farm[ MF, cd, heavy scat ]
by Ed & Minxi Stercus, © 2012, all rights reserved
edere.stercus@gmail.com – please email us and
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By now you know I was passable in women's clothes (and I still am). I'm 5'10", thin, with long legs and a surprisingly well-rounded ass. My wife calls it my "bubble butt". I keep my hair long – halfway down my back – but usually I keep it in a pony tail for work. I keep my legs and pits clean-shaven, and I was blessed with light, thin hair on my arms. Basically, I can wear a dress like the hottest bitch in town. All I need is a little help in the tits (the water bra was like a fucking miracle), and I'm good to go. We never went down the estrogen road – Minxi likes my cock nice and hard and always ready, thank you very much. We did experiment with the idea of implants for a while, but then we decided an entire identity change wasn't going to work for us in the long run, so I'm still a he who hides as a she for the occasional kinky date.
Our first wedding anniversary was just such an occasion. I was in a long formal gallery dress – blue with some sequin trim and a nice high thigh cut, black pumps, thigh highs, taped cock-in-thong, up-do, the works. Minxi was in her own formal, of course, but with an even higher slit on the side. We were at one of those steak houses where they bring out the dry-aged meat on a cart and you got to point at the one you want. She got a filet. I got the ribeye. And we killed a liter of bourbon. (God bless the good old BYOB brown-bag restaurant laws in that town!)
There is this one thing Minxi loves to do when she is horny. She loves to finger her asshole – digging in her ass, pulling out her hand, licking fingers. I catch her at it a lot when she is especially drunk and ready to fuck. She loves the taste of her back hole.
Minxi kept shifting in her seat, dropping a hand, and coming back up a few moments later to discretely sniff and suck on her fingers. We'd gotten a corner table and were nicely bracketed by a couple of tall ficus plants. It was a perfect little nook for Minxi to surreptitiously flip that slit far out to the side, until she was sitting on her bare ass. All she had to do was rock over a little on her hip – as if she was simply rearranging her posture in the chair. Her finger would slip in, dig around, and come back up with tasty treats.
At one point I slid my glass to her. She ran her brown fingertip over and over along the rim. What a way to enjoy Maker's Mark! I kept passing my glass to her. She kept refilling it and re-streaking the rim. Yum.
Then she came back up with quite a dollop. Grinning. I was shocked and instantly looked all around to see who might be watching. No one was. Minxi set the little brown blob down on the edge of her plate, next to her filet. She cut into her steak, then dragged it through her small, soft nugget of shit, picking up about half. It took only two more bites before the blob was thoroughly gone. Then she went back down and got more.
I thought my dick was going to rip right out of the tape. It was nearly impossible to sit on it, that was for sure! I had to slide forward to the edge of my seat until the head wasn't squashed between my ass the cushion. This time Minxi gave her rectal condiment to me, and I dove in. Ribeye-in-shit. You have to try it. I'm not joking. Steak with shit is amazing.
By the time we were finished, we were good and drunk. And ready to fuck. Minxi paid the bill and led me to the ladies room, where we made out in a stall like teenagers, not caring how many women came and went in the meantime. Finally we straightened up, re-did our makeup, and staggered out of the restaurant. By then, of course, there were plenty of people staring. My cock had long since ripped free of its binding. It was pressed tightly between my belly and fabric of the dress, pointing straight up to the sky. I tried keeping my purse demurely positioned in front of it, but it was still pretty obvious. A few gasps, whispers, that kind of thing trailed behind us as we left.
In the parking lot I sort of just stood there beside the open door and let Minxi tape me back up. We had to wait for three or four giggly minutes first, while I kept trying to think of stupid stuff to take my mind off my cock and let it go down. Then she went in there with the tape and I just about had to start all over again! Finally, though, I was back to being a girl, and we slowly and carefully drove away. It was time for some dancing.
The lesbian bar we chose was known for its dueling pianos, its karaoke Tuesdays, and – one Saturday a month – its Ballroom Glamour Night. Women from miles around were there in their best evening gowns, drinking and laughing and making out. Most danced, sooner or later. We danced the whole time.
Minxi and I had been practicing for months, and we were eager to get to it, despite our alcohol impairment. I let her lead. I got hard again. We managed to escape before our little secret attracted any attention. Thank God for that little purse!
We staggered back to the car, laughing at my traitorous cock again. It was clearly time to fuck. Minxi had a place she wanted to try.
She drove us for over an hour out of town, way into the country. I dozed, in a bourbon-induced haze, finally awakened by the bumps of an old side road as it tossed me about in the passenger seat of our car. The headlights fell upon the side of a large barn, just as the Camry rattled across the parallel rails of a cattle guard. We passed through the gate and pulled to a stop near one end of the structure. Minxi killed the light. The digital clock on the dashboard read 2:07 AM.
“Just a farm I know about,” Minxi offered, in answer to my confused silence. “The family lives in a house about a half-mile farther that-a-way,” she gestured out into the very dark night. “It's plenty far away, trust me.” She leaned over and nibbled at my earlobe. “Nobody's near enough to hear a thing.”
I was quickly getting hard again. Minxi nuzzled at my neck, licked her way up my jaw, then went back to my earlobe. “I came out to this barn for a little... paid work a couple years ago,” she purred. I knew she had been hired for some gang bangs, of course. Apparently this had been the site of one of those.
“The farmer and his brother and a bunch of their buddies fucked me all night long in there,” she continued. “It was some bachelor party bullshit. I danced and then fucked them one-by-one, then two-at-a-time after that. Made some sweet money that night....”
She pushed toward my door, and I stumbled out. She came around and grabbed my hand. “Kick off your heels, baby,” she instructed. “Toss them in the floorboard. It'll be a lot more fun barefoot.” Once my pumps were off she began pulling me toward the big barn doors, the grass cold beneath my stockinged feet.
I could hear the soft stamping and nervous whinnies of several horses as we approached and stepped onto the concrete slab at the barn's entrance. The smell of hay and horsehide permeated the air, along with the unmistakable scent of manure. Minxi laid her weight against one door, while I staggered to push against the other, slowly rolling them aside enough to step through. A few small-wattage light bulbs shone down from the arched ceiling high overhead, spaced apart at regular intervals. It was enough for us to dimly see where we were going.
There were twelve stalls on each side of the barn's one long gallery, split by a large tack room on one side and a feed room on the other. The main aisle was nearly twenty feet across. Despite the white-fenced propriety of the surrounding paddocks, the interior of the stables themselves were rudimentary and only superficially clean. The gallery's paver-tiled floor was swept, but hay and other detritus encrusted the circular grates covering the drains that were periodically spaced out along the center line of the aisle. Clearly this was a working farm, not a show farm.
“Farmer leaves the upkeep for the boarders to take care of,” Minxi explained. “He's mainly in the cattle business, but he keeps this end of his property for the equine fanatics out there. People come out and get lessons and all that.”
She pulled my hand again, leading me toward the far end of the aisle. “I actually fucked him a lot – for about a year, I guess – after that first party here.” We passed the large room halfway down on the left – its door stood wide open and I could see a variety of saddles and other tack arranged within. Minxi waved at it as we went by. “That was mostly where we did it,” she reported. “He loved bending me over a saddle and drilling my ass.” She sighed. “He never wanted me to suck him clean when he finished, though. Funny guy.”
The horses seemed to be trying to speak with us, or else they were talking to each other. As we approached and passed each stall, the beast within would stick its head out over the enclosure's gate and snort or whinny. Clearly they were irritated at being awakened in the middle of the night. Minxi ignored them. My slight idea about our purpose there rapidly disintegrated. Clearly my wife was not interested in the animals. (Not that night, at least!)
At the other end of the stables was another huge set of sliding doors. Once outside again, I could see we were completely enclosed within the stable's maintenance paddock, which was a gravelly expanse stretching out for about fifty yards in three directions. There was a John Deere Gator, as well as a grass-cutting deck attachment just a few feet away from the concrete slab we stood upon. The silhouette of a tractor loomed several yards farther out in the darkness. The parts to a disassembled portable corral were stacked and leaned together with surprising precision just a few feet to our right, sheltered against the barn's back wall. Minxi took my arm and turned us to the left, however. And I saw at once why we were there.
It was a wagon full of horse shit.
To be more precise, it was a low-walled, open-topped utility trailer – the kind that would be pulled behind the tractor. Its tires were set against large wooden chocks, and the hitch was resting firmly upon a short stack of cinder blocks. Roughly eight feet long by four feet wide, its sides rose at least two feet or more. And it was packed to the brim with piss-soaked hay and manure.
Minxi shivered and pulled me close. “I used to wander back here and dream about this thing, back then,” she murmured. “The farmer made me wait on him sometimes for hours until his wife was in a deep sleep. I would finish studying and then have a walk around. This trailer gets filled as the week goes on, and nobody drags it out to dump it except Mondays, sometimes Tuesdays.” She shivered even more. “Every now and then I would, you know, lean over and... almost get a handful.” She reached out her hand to demonstrate, clutching at the air. “But I never did. Farmer boy would've known something was up. It's not like you can hide that smell real quick once it's on you.”
Then she dropped my hand and turned her back to me. “Unzip, please,” she politely asked. I did, not surprised to see that she'd gone without her bra, panties, and hose for tonight. The next instant she stood naked on the concrete slab, turning me around with her eager hands. My zipper down, she got after my bra next, then my taped-up thong. My thigh highs she rolled down last, until I stood before her with my cock jutting out, stiff and ready. She ignored it.
“Oh God, here I go...” she squealed, grasping the side of the trailer and putting a foot on top of the tire. She swung one leg over and stepped down into the muck. “Whew! It's so cold! And thick!” Minxi pushed off the side and brought her other foot up and over the edge of the trailer, plunging it down into the manure. She stood still for a moment with her eyes closed, reveling as she squirmed her toes around and wiggled her feet deeper. “I'm standing on the bottom now! It's not too deep at all. Come on!” she begged, waving me in. Then she giggled and forcefully squatted. “Oommph!”
I watched her work her ass deeper and deeper into the shit, until she was buried to her tits in the stuff. She raked it up onto her chest by the handfuls, sighing. “It doesn't crust over too much during the week, see,” she explained, squishing thick chunks of manure in her fists. “They leave it parked here against the northern wall of the barn, where it's coolest all day. Keeps it from stinking too much all week, so they only need to empty it when it gets full.” She began patting handfuls onto her short hair. “So I knew it would be just perfect to play in!”
I'll admit, I was shocked. In all of our truly perverted adventures to that point, we'd never come close to this. Horse shit? My wife wanted to fuck around covered in manure? Eating each other's ass candy was extreme, I know, but it was the ultimate expression of intimacy. We both cherished how much more bonded we were because of it. We fed each other our own excrement. We feasted on all that the other could give. But this? What was this?
Minxi stopped her joyful slopping around and rose up a little, reaching for me over the side of the trailer. “Come on slowpoke!” she chided. “You're missing all the fun!” I let her grab my arm with her thickly-covered hands. I allowed her to pull me closer. Then she let go and waited for me to climb in. I looked down. My cock was still rigid and throbbing. I took a deep breath, inhaled all that stink. My cock twitched, a drool of precum splattering down my thigh.
What the hell. I put a foot up on the tire and hoisted myself in.
I cautiously squatted, amazed at how firm and supportive the manure was – as long as I didn't move too much. It really felt amazing up between the cheeks of my ass against my balls. My hips wanted to thrust. I found myself really eager to just start fucking the shit that was packed in all around me. Whatever small hole I'd made when first squatting was gone. All the manure had fallen back against my body, holding me firmly in place. I cautiously bucked against it a little, then a little more. My dick certainly didn't mind.
The broken ends of hay stuck into me here and there. It was the piss- and shit-gunked hay that had been swept out of the stalls. There was also the hay comprising the bulk of the manure, of course, which was much harder to discern in the darkness, but which occasionally appeared in striated relief within individual mounds of the dark, thick equine feces. It all smelled like hay, too, but in the most fecund, earthy way imaginable, a heady aroma like freshly mown grass and deeply turned soil mixed together and – well, baked, then allowed to cool.
I grabbed some in each hand and let it squish and crumble however it would. Some parts were certainly more wet, while others much more dry. Then I drove my hands in deep and felt around. It was amazing how quickly I grew accustomed to the stench and texture. It simply wasn't all that revolting, not in the visceral sense. I had not the slightly urge to vomit. Not at all.
Minxi, once she was satisfied I was staying, flopped backward into the muck, spreading her arms in an awkward attempt to make a manure angel. She sank slowly deeper and deeper as the motion of her arms served only to wriggle her upper body farther down. Soon her entire body had sunk below the surface, with just her nose and mouth peeking up at me. The rest of her was sucked completely in, the manure closing back over her, claiming her. I couldn't even see her eyes anymore. The shit was quickly rising as her head descended, and in a moment her whole face would be under.
“Come get me in a minute!” was all Minxi had time to squeal, before she sucked in one last, deep breath. Then she was gone. I couldn't see any trace of her at all. She was utterly buried in manure.
I surged slowly toward where Minxi lay and felt for her legs. Once oriented, I worked my way between them as fast as the thick, heavy horse shit would allow. It was a solid minute before I was sure I was there, but I finally felt her cunt at the head of my cock, and I pushed. It was at least another thirty seconds before I succeeded in digging down to her face, grasping the back of her head with one hand as I held the cascades of manure at bay with the other. Minxi gasped and strained to raise her face higher.
“Don't stop fucking me!” she panted, her mouth and nose full of shit. “Oh GOD! Don't stop! Don't Stop!”
But after a few minutes the strength had left us both, and it was too hard keep her face clear of the avalanching shit. We helped each other up to standing and took a minute to catch our breath; then Minxi got back down on her hands and knees. She worked herself as deep in as she could get, of course, but even though the rest of her was once again covered, she finally had herself in a position that kept her face above it. I got behind her and went back to work. Minxi groaned as my cock pushed a significant chunk of manure deep inside her. She lowered her face into the shit and simply wallowed, holding her breath until she shook violently and had to raise her head. She repeated that over and over again, driving her head down into the thick muck and spasmodically jerking it loose when the need to breathe overwhelmed her.
I don't think I need to tell you what a woman's cunt does when she's fighting to breathe, do I? She milked me twice in that position, her pussy like a vise as she struggled against asphyxiation. I wouldn't say that I came so much as I had my cock nearly ripped off, and I happily kept thrusting for more.
When we were finally too exhausted to go on, Minxi and I simply took a standing half-squat in the middle of that trailer and added our own shit to that of the horses. The contrast in color, mass, and texture was amazing. We left our respective piles right there on top, too, for anyone to see in the morning.
There was a spigot and hose in the wall nearby, and for the better part of the next thirty minutes we took turns shivering and rinsing off. At one point Minxi gasped and quickly squatted, frantically rubbing at her clit, as a series of small chunklets of manure fell out of her vagina. The little bits of horse shit were covered in her thick creamy cunt drool as they plopped onto the concrete slab.
After douching her thoroughly with the hose, we collected our dresses (and my underthings) and made our way back through the barn. The horses were all still and quiet. I figure they were either asleep and accustomed to our presence, or else they were too horrified to move.
When we got back in the car and Minxi cranked it up, the digital clock read 4:19. We drove to the city in the pre-dawn emptiness, naked, exhausted, and extremely satisfied with our date.
Let us know how you liked our story! That would be great.
- Ed
by Ed & Minxi Stercus, © 2012, all rights reserved
edere.stercus@gmail.com – please email us and let us know if you like our stories!
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