From Under the Spotlights

A quick glance at my watch indicated the ninety minutes had passed and it was time to conclude the proceedings. All three women had defecated now, all three were covered in shit; the only thing left to do was to reward themselves for an incredible performance, if they could (it would be the least they deserved), and that would be by bringing each other to orgasm. Hilda lay on her back, her legs spread slightly, and BHG stretched her body out next to hers sideways, stroking Hilda's pussy with one hand while sucking her breasts. She arched one of her legs above Hilda's body so Hilda could finger her as well. SG assumed a position on Hilda's face, facing forward, rubbing her own clit vigorously while sliding her pussy and asshole over Hilda's mouth and face. It was incredible for me seeing Hilda the centerpiece of this arrangement. When Hilda and BHG were getting close to orgasming, they switched to fingering themselves over the last hurdle. It was beautiful to behold, with Hilda and BHG coming first. SG took a bit longer to climax, but when she did she squirted forcefully, drenching the other two girls as well as herself. Everyone was thrilled at the squirt, which seemed to take the three girls totally by surprise. They talked and laughed with each other for a few seconds, no doubt over the squirt, and then somewhat sheepishly got to their feet. We in the audience stood and clapped loudly, several "Bravos!" raining down toward the pool. The women bowed, then hugged each other briefly before exiting out through the curtain they had entered by.

I sat down again, my brain on fire and racing like a train about to derail. I imagined there would be a rather lengthy cleanup period for the girls. Should I wait and surprise Hilda as she was leaving? Would my sudden appearance delight her or might it backfire on me, seem too intrusive, be too big a shock for her? Would she think I was invading her privacy, a space she hoped to keep secret? Might she simply have other plans with the other two women that would leave me standing with my hat in my hand? Too many unpleasant thoughts clicked off in my head, so I decided I would leave and figure out a way to approach Hilda with what I witnessed and loved after more deliberation.

Part 3

I was glad I had not waited for Hilda after that Saturday night performance, because by Monday I had calmed down and was not thinking like a lunatic. By then I had also masturbated to every single detail I could remember about their performance several times, which I'm not sure helped calm me down, but certainly made me feel satisfied. I decided I wouldn't say anything to her about it at work, that I'd wait until we were alone in a more intimate setting, maybe our next date. I did ask how her weekend was, willing to push the envelope that far at least, and she said "Fine," and that she had "met up with a couple of old girlfriends." It took a great deal of effort not to burst my bubble over that and spill everything then and there.

In order to iron out and finalize some business dealings for the firm, I was scheduled to fly out Thursday noonish on a trip to Milwaukee lasting through Sunday, and I told Hilda I would hate going two weekends in a row without seeing her, would she like spending Wednesday night with me? She said Thursday was one of her stay-at-home flex days, so she would be happy to.

I picked her up at her place Wednesday about 8 o'clock and took her to a nice Chinese restaurant we both liked. We were both in a good mood and having a great time. Just as we were finishing up, I decided the time had come for the big reveal. Maybe because we were having such a good time I was actually looking forward to telling her, confident she would take it well.

"You know, Hilda," I began, "I hope this doesn't make you angry or anything, but I have a secret I need to tell you."

"Really? What's that? You have a girlfriend in Milwaukee and you're going to propose to her sometime over the next four days?"

I laughed, thinking that was a startling yet pretty hilarious reply, and shook my head. "That's crazy. So that's what you think?" Then a totally goofy thought popped into my head and I said, "Actually, it's my boyfriend."

She laughed so hard that other customers glanced at her. "Somehow, knowing what you and I have done together, I just can't picture that. Sorry."

"Homophobic, I see," I said laughing as well, but trying not to. "He's going to be very mad at you when I tell him."

"No, no, no," she blurted, her smile as broad as ever. "Forgive me. I'd say give him a big kiss from me, but I guess he wouldn't appreciate that too much."

"My kiss, definitely; that it was from you, not really, I'm afraid." And we both burst out laughing again.

After calming down for a bit, I started in again. "Anyway, like I was trying to say," I began, not sure what affect that little side-step into inanity would have on my announcement, if any. "You told me at the office on Monday that you'd spent some time with a couple of girlfriends over the weekend, and I think I saw you all, that is if they were the ones with you on Saturday evening. That performance was absolutely wonderful, gorgeous, and I loved every minute of it."

Her body stiffened and the look on her face instantly changed from cheerfully carefree to startled and shocked. "You were there? How?"

Shit, I thought. Don't tell me this is all going to go up in flames like some empty pipe dream. "Well," I began, stammering, "here's another little secret for you, but it just so happens I have been a devotee of the scat fetish my entire adult life, and a friend of mine texted me about the show. I got myself invited, wouldn't miss it for the world if I could help it, of course had no idea you would be part of it." I paused for a few seconds, and then repeated that I had no idea she would be there. I was now staring at a frightened and confused face looking back at me, and added, "Fuck, Hilda, you look about as shocked as I would expect you to be if I had told you I had a boyfriend in Milwaukee."

Her countenance then changed from shock to a blank stare. "I'm just surprised," she said. "Talk about a secret! That's a part of my life I've kept hidden from just about everybody I know. I'm sure you can see why."

"Of course, I get it. But, Hilda, it's not a secret to me anymore, and I'm telling you, it was amazing seeing you like that, so sexy, so filthy-lovely, that's how I think of the scatting experience. Gloriously filthy-lovely! I was the happiest person there on Saturday, for sure, my brain on fire with images of us doing that together." There, that was everything, all my thoughts and feelings, hopes and desires.

The look on her face became less featureless and she even managed a smile.

So I took that as a cue to mention my next obvious concern: "Unless, of course, you tell me you only scat with other women and wouldn't think of doing that with me."

"That would upset the applecart pretty badly, I bet," Hilda responded.

"It would devastate me, totally. If you want to see a grown man burst out crying all over his leftover moo goo gai pan, just tell me that."

That made her laugh as I hoped it would. "I'm tempted to say it just to see you do it," she chuckled. "But no, that wouldn't be true."

Oh, yes. Thank you, thank you, I thought.

We were silent for a bit and then she said, looking at me, much more like her old self, "Let's see, today is Wednesday and that was on Saturday, so you've been obsessed with having scat sex with me for the last four days?"

"Definitely the last four days; every time I saw you at work I had to force myself not to say anything yet. But certainly longer than that, though more in the abstract."

"How do you mean?"

"I told you I love scat sex, but unfortunately that doesn't mean I've indulged in it very often; finding others who are willing hasn't been easy."

"You just don't know the right places," she quipped. It felt like a slap for a second, telling me I was inadequate somehow, but she smiled broadly, indicating I shouldn't take her too seriously. Which I imagined to be a good sign, her joviality signaling a warming up to the idea of us scatting together, at least not dismissing the idea outright. Then she continued, "But what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, there's always that fear of overplaying your hand. You know, saying or indicating something that makes the other person want to hightail it away as fast and as far as possible, such as suggesting engaging in a taboo practice. I love being with you and wouldn't want to risk losing you by announcing a desire to have scat sex with you. But you're always so open and willing to do anything while we make love, that I fantasized about crossing into that territory with you."

Then she said something that made me believe everything was going to be all right, the planets had all lined up perfectly, the cards had been dealt and I held four aces. "Honestly, the only hightailing I've ever thought of doing with you is angling my ass higher so you could lick and fuck it deeper." What an incredibly sexy, dirty thing to say! And exciting, too! I almost threw myself across the table to kiss her.

Instead, I smiled and said as calmly and mock-seriously as I could, "Um, you wouldn't care to elaborate on that, would you? Granted we only have about ten minutes or so before they kick us out, but are there any details regarding that image you might wish to expound upon in the meantime?"

She laughed and her eyes gleamed, "You just want me to talk dirty to you, you sicko pervert, you."

"That's Mister Sicko Pervert, if you don't mind, and don't let me stop you."

She leaned over the table toward me slightly, briefly touching my cheek with her finger. The look on her face now was radiant with sexual exuberance. "The way you fuck my asshole with your tongue; I love that, you know. That beautiful tongue plowing into my asshole, oh so wet and deep, I don't know how I haven't just shit right in your mouth already. I have thought about it."

I groaned and said with some exaggeration, but not much, "Oh, woman, you're driving me out of my mind. My cock is about to burst. More, tell me more."

"Only like you I was scared. What if he eats my ass like there's no tomorrow, but has no thought or desire to go beyond that? Lots of men enjoy doing that to their lovers with no wish to engage with what's on the other side of that sweet little rosebud. Suppose what I'm thinking of doing would only disgust him? He's dead-ended right where the fun begins. Better play it safe and not rush it, leave it up to him to take that step."

"Are we just a couple of little chickens?"

"I hope not. I guess we'll just have to find out." Then she added, "I think the restaurant people are hoping we'll leave now."

"Okay," I said, putting my credit card on the table along with the bill. The waiter took both and soon returned with the receipt. Then I said before we stood up, "Hilda, will you come back to my place now and make love with me the same way you did with those two women on Saturday?"

In the softest, sexiest voice I think I've ever heard, she said, "Yes, of course. I would love that. Come on." My heart took a leap and I thought it might fly out of me, and I had to take a deep breath to calm myself.

We left and I drove us to my condo. She put her hand on my thigh as I drove, and I put mine on top of hers. I asked her, "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions about Saturday night?"

"No, go ahead."

"Well, first of all, the other women, what are their names? In my head I referred to one as Stocking Girl and the other as Brown-Haired Girl."

She laughed and answered, "The brown-haired girl is Veronica, the other girl is Nancy. Veronica happens to be my roommate. It's strange you two haven't met yet."

"Your roommate! Really!" I blurted, overly surprised. I don't know why that surprised me so much; maybe it was a sudden surge of jealousy as my next mental image was of the two of them making love daily, multiple times daily, okay, constantly, covered in shit. I wanted that to be me. "I've only been to your place a few times, I guess that's why our paths haven't crossed."

"Her father hasn't been well recently, so she's been spending time with him."

Before I could say anything else, Hilda said, "One thing I want you to understand. It would be a mistake to say we do it just for the money - we've scatted long before any money was involved. But certainly the money has come in handy. Some performers, to make lots more money, interact with the audience, which we never do; that would be crossing a line. Like pole dancers and strip club performers it's strictly hands-off while on duty." That seemed to be important to her, something she wanted to make clear.

"The three of you seem to have a very intimate relationship, no doubt about it," I said.

"That's true, we do."

Then, feeling super confident and overjoyed at what was transpiring, I asked, half joking, "Have you ever thought of adding a male performer to your act?"

"Ah, you would like to audition, I assume you're saying. I don't know, we'll have to see just how good you are, won't we," she said, chuckling, trying to keep my ego in check. In a sudden flash of bravado, I thought to myself, but fortunately kept my mouth shut, Oh, baby, you wait and see how good I am!

Meanwhile she continued, "Besides, and don't crash the car when I tell you this, we already have someone for that when needed." She looked at me to see how unnerved that would make me. "His name is Jason. He used to be my boyfriend but is now an item with Nancy."

More jealous thoughts raged through my brain, but faded out quickly, to my surprise, probably because she said he was Nancy's now.

She asked me about my experiences with scat. "It's really been difficult finding interested partners, like I said," I told her. "My last time was at an orgy a friend of mine was scheduled to attend but had to pull out of at the last minute. He told the host about me and I was allowed to take his place. It was great, I had a terrific time, the women were unbelievable, really into getting filthy. I thought I made a decent enough impression, gave and received as much as everyone else, but haven't heard from anyone since."

"Maybe you won't have to think about them now," she said to me and lifted my hand and kissed it.

She told me she was glad we already had six weeks of dating under our belts, because she felt she could trust me. "For me there is no more intimate sexual act than scatting," she said. "If I didn't trust you I could never do it with you."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, but figured there was a lot of truth there for her, that like so many things in the sexual arena, things were different for her, a woman, than me.

"You've been planning this, I assume, since Sunday," Hilda said. "So I gather you're prepared."

I knew what she was talking about, so said, "Yes."

She opened her handbag and took out a small pill case, from which she extracted two small pills. She popped them in her mouth and swallowed them, telling me to remind her to drink a couple of glasses of water when we got to my place. "I haven't gone today yet; these will just make sure I do. I'll need about an hour for them to work."

The thrill of anticipation was at a fever pitch for me by now. I wanted to touch her, kiss her everywhere, carry her into my condo in my arms and lay her out on my bed like a goddess. My bed had been prepared for two nights now, plastic sheeting overlaid with a regular fitted cotton sheet on top of which was a dark-blue comforter. I thought of all the marvelous, intense love-making sessions Hilda and I had had over the last six weeks, and how tonight's adventure would be enhanced so many times over by the addition of one major element.

"Ready?" I asked, taking her hand after parking the car.

"Come," she said. "Let's get filthy."

Part 4

I just barely made it to the airport in time for my flight to Milwaukee on Thursday. I think I would have sold my soul if it would make this trip unnecessary and I could spend the day with Hilda instead, but my going was essential for the firm. It was a two-hour flight and would give me time to reflect on the night I'd just spent with Hilda, the best night I've ever had in my life....

I remembered we went into my condo and I reminded her about drinking some water for the laxatives she'd taken.

"I have a better idea," she said. "Do you have any beer? That will work with the pills and should really make me want to pee as well. I had a beer before we began on Saturday night, and you saw what that did for me." She smiled, and I told her I remembered perfectly. I got us both a beer and said it usually had the same effect on me. We sat on the couch drinking and talking, but I couldn't restrain myself very long and pulled her on top of me. We kissed briefly, my hands caressing her through her clothes, when she broke free and said she should take her dress off before it got all wrinkled. She had me help her and she didn't stop with the dress but removed her bra and panties as well before draping herself in my arms again. She liked being naked while I was still clothed, she said; it made her feel the center of attention.

"Oh, you are that, no doubt about it," I declared. "Here, have another sip of beer." I put my beer bottle to her lips forcing her to take big gulps while some of it spilled onto her breasts, causing her to squeal. She arched her back offering her drenched tits to me to suck. When I bent down to do so, she poured the rest of the beer in the bottle that was hers over my head.

"Oh, dear," she cooed, "I've ruined your shirt. Better take it off," and she started unbuttoning it, which wasn't easy to do as I kept trying to kiss her, especially her tits, as she laughingly tried to concentrate on my shirt.

It wasn't long before we had moved from the couch to the bedroom. I took my clothes off as Hilda crawled into my bed. I told her I had protected the mattress, in case she was wondering, and she said that was good because she hoped we would get really messy and not have to worry about that. By now I had joined her and was stretching my body out on top of hers. This was reminiscent of so many of our love-making sessions: feeling each other's bodies mashing into one another, lots of caressing, finger-exploring, and kissing. I loved raking my fingers through her hair as we kissed deeply, our tongues fencing in our mouths.

I rolled over on my back, taking Hilda with me. I told her to turn over and lay on my front, facing the ceiling. I kissed her neck and put my hands on her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples. I told her to spread her legs and pulled her up higher onto me so my cock was between her legs.

"This ought to work," I said, and began pissing. When she saw what I was doing she immediately grabbed my cock and pointed it toward her body on top of me, my piss drenching her belly and breasts, which caused her to shout with glee.

"Push harder!" she cried, "so it reaches my face!" I pushed harder and my piss flowed onto her face and even into her medium-blonde hair, which she loved. I peed for quite a long time, thanks to the beer and not having gone since that morning. But eventually I ran low, but not before soaking both of us.

"Hold my legs open," she said to me, "and pull them back so my pussy is aiming for us." I rolled her so she lay mostly on her upper back on my chest, and then she began to pee. It was just a little dribble at first, but then became a gusher, her pee skyrocketing and landing on her tits and then her face and hair as well. Much of it was hitting me in the face, too, and her piss was clear and tasted delicious, about the same as mine. With her hands she swished the liquid around on her breasts and belly, laughing and loving it, and put her drenched fingers up to my mouth to suck.