Mountain of a Mess Pt. 04

This is the fourth installment of the Mountain of a Mess series! While it's not necessary to read the other parts to enjoy this one, this part does reference the first three in several places, so reading them may fill in some plot holes.

*****

It was 4:32 in the morning when I was woken up with a start.

"Fuck!" Blake hissed in the darkness as he struggled his way out of bed. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dark room. My head cleared and I remembered the events that transpired a few hours ago, and couldn't help but smile to myself. "Fuck, where's the light switch?!" Blake's voice yelled from the (still dark) bathroom. With a groan, I swung my legs out of bed and felt my way through the darkness with relative ease.

Before I could reach the light switch, the room was filled with the sudden, wet squirting sound of Blake emptying himself. I flipped on the light, finding my husband sitting on the toilet, head leaned back against the cabinet, eyes closed, hands resting on his thighs. "Fuck..." he groaned, rubbing at his eyes as they adjusted to the light. I crossed my arms over my exposed chest and frowned.

"I guess it goes without saying you're not feeling any better."

"I guess not," he groaned, leaning forward and resting on his elbows. I shifted awkwardly. He'd peed while I was getting ready in the bathroom before, but never anything like this. Despite our encounter only a few hours ago, something about it still felt awkward—but in an amusing way.

"I'll get you a Gatorade?" I half offered, half asked.

"Thanks," he looked at me and nodded. I slipped back out into the dark hotel room, rummaging around in our travel cooler for a drink. Only a few hours ago we'd been having wild, dirty, fantasy-fueled sex in the most filthy way imaginable. Now, half-asleep, it felt as if it had all been a dream. I grabbed a Gatorade and stood up, heading back to the bathroom. I reminded myself it was real.

"Anything else I can do for you?" I offered. Blake grinned and bit his lip, looking my body up and down.

"I can think of a few things."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" I smugly crossed my arms across my chest, knowing I was just out of his reach. He took a swig of the Gatorade.

"Get back in bed and I'll show you."

"Why don't you show me right now?" I took a step closer, standing over him.

"Hmm..." Blake hummed, a smile on his face. He ran his hands along my ass and hips, letting them linger before bringing his hand around to the front. He pressed two fingers between my legs, tempting me to stand a little wider and open them. "I don't think I can do much right now."

"That's true," I knelt down, "but I can."

Blake spread his legs involuntarily at the sight of me kneeling in front of him. I ran my hand up the inside of his thigh, stopping to brush my fingers against his semi-erect cock. He shuddered at my touch.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blake asked. I adjusted my position and began stroking at his cock, which was almost entirely hard now from the promise of attention. I pumped him up and down, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes. I leaned forward, taking his cock in my mouth, never breaking the eye contact. Blake cursed under his breath and leaned his head back. I worked my mouth back and forth over his cock in slow, hard motions. He groaned and shifted slightly on the spot.

"You're not going to stop, are you?" he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear. I mumbled back a muffled 'nuh-uh' around his cock. Blake laughed and forced himself forward a bit more, causing me to deepthroat him further. "Well, if you don't stop, you know what's going to happen."

"Uh-huh." I ran my tongue the whole way from his balls to the head of his cock, earning a husky groan. Blake grabbed my hair with one hand and urged me back down on his cock; I obeyed. He moaned and his muscles tensed for a moment as he let out a loud, messy fart, which echoed in the bowl. I sucked harder and he relaxed again. This time, hot, almost entirely liquid diarrhea spilled out of him in a sudden torrent. "Ah fuck..." Blake hissed, stroking my hair and keeping me down on his cock. The smell emanating from beneath him was disgusting—and I loved every moment of it.

He pushed this time, and a series of loud, sputtering farts forced out another bout of diarrhea, hitting the water with several lewd plops. His cock throbbed in my mouth, making it evident he was getting off on this. After a moment more of me going down on him, he nudged my shoulder.

"I'm done," he told me. "Let's get up."

"Okay, if we have to," I murmured, brushing my lips along the swollen head of his cock.

"Don't get me wrong, we're not done yet." He tore off a piece of toilet paper and looked at me with raised eyebrows, as if expecting me to move. "You going to get up?"

"No," I told him simply, resting my cheek against his knee.

"Suit yourself," said Blake, leaning forward so that he could wipe. I grinned as I watched him; there was something so amusingly intimate about this. The water beneath him was filthy and soupy, darkened by his mess. I thought about our fun a few hours and silently wished we could be doing that again. He wiped and noticed me staring.

"You like watching?" Blake asked with a laugh. I nodded in response. He turned the soiled bath tissue towards me, showing me how it was streaked with heavy, sticky smears of his shit. "You like that, don't you?"

"You know it," I purred, sitting up on my knees. He laughed and pulled off a second sheet. This time, he held it out to me.

"You want to do it?" Blake offered.

"Sure!" I felt as if I responded a little too enthusiastically, but I didn't care. I took the paper and slipped my hand between his legs, brushing against his balls as I did so. His cock twitched at the stimulation, still erect. I pressed the paper against his hole lightly, swiping at the sensitive area. Blake couldn't conceal a shudder as I touched him through the thin material. I looked at the paper without removing my hand; it had a bit of shit on it, not too bad. I dropped the paper into the bowl but, again, didn't remove my hand. Blake waited patiently, unaware of what I was doing. I brushed my bare fingers against his asshole, which was still somewhat dirty and sticky with his filth.

"Fuck," he hissed, opening his legs wider. I expected him to try and stop me, but to my surprise, he didn't. I took his cock in my mouth again, keeping my right hand between his cheeks, playing with his entrance. He leaked precum into my mouth and involuntarily jerked his hips against my face as my fingers circled his asshole. I pressed against his tight hole, rubbing at the last sticky streak of shit that had been smeared there and worked around the entrance. I sucked on the head of his cock, which was pulsating as if he was only moments away from squirting into my mouth. Slowly and gently, I managed to slip half of my index finger into his tight asshole. His walls were tight and hot, and the tip of my finger brushed against what felt like another turd. Blake moaned and threw his head back, but finally took me by the shoulders and moved me away.

"Come on, you," he told me, "let's wash our hands and get back in bed. I'm going to have my turn at you." As I stood up, he took my wrist and examined my hand, notably my two fingers that were smudged with his waste. He stood as well, but without releasing my wrist.

"You try that again," he placed his lips against my ear, "I'll put those fingers in your mouth, dirty girl."

I froze at the thought. I never wanted to be one of those fetishists who ended up eating shit—no, that was too much, even for me...gross, unsanitary, just not appealing—but there was something wildly erotic about the thought of him doing that. I pressed my legs together, which he noticed.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up."

--

We washed our hands and raced back to bed, both equal parts horny and exhausted. Blake pulled me on top of him, desperately stroking at my soaking pussy.

"We're both tired. Want to just fuck, sleep, and fuck again when we wake up?" I asked, but couldn't help but grind my hips against his hand as I did so.

"No, I want you on my face. Come on," he was grinning as he tugged on my hips in an attempt to get me to turn around.

"Sixty-nine? Twice in one night?" I teased. He laughed from behind me and eagerly pulled my hips down to his face.

"You'll see."

My husband licked at my soaking pussy, flicking his tongue from my clit to my entrance. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock as my lips wrapped around the upper half once more. I didn't mind—I loved giving him head. I teased the slit of his cock the same way he was teasing my clit.

"You know," he pulled his face away long enough to speak, "I had to shit so bad I forgot to do something."

"What's that?" I licked the head of his cock with my tongue, broad and flat like I was licking ice cream.

"I didn't piss..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, such a shame I have to get up again..." his voice trailed off, and I knew what he was hinting at.

"No need to get up, you can go right here, right now," I said, giving him the exact response I knew he wanted. He groaned loudly and buried his face in my pussy again, eagerly pushing his hips up against my mouth. I took half of his cock in my mouth and wrapped one hand around the base again, toying with him slowly to wait and see if he'd let go in my mouth. It took a second, but sure enough, he began to fill my mouth with his salty urine. I swallowed it down with ease; his stream was slow and came out in erratic pulses due to his erection. He continued to release his hot piss in my mouth, moaning and grinding his hips and loving every minute of it. I loved every minute of it, too, and felt my inner muscles tighten as I neared the verge of orgasm.

We both moaned as his stream died off in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the tip, cleaning up any last drops of piss. His erection throbbed in my mouth, and he suddenly grabbed me by the waist and pulled me so I was sitting up. I found myself essentially sitting backwards on his face. Blake placed his hands on my ass, squeezing at my cheeks.

"Blake..." I moaned quietly. He pulled his mouth away from my dripping pussy, causing me to whine. He silenced me by moving his mouth over my asshole, not hesitating at all before licking at the tight entrance. I gasped and bucked my hips involuntarily. He used his hands to keep my cheeks spread, allowing him a deeper, broader angle. He circled his tongue around my asshole, wetting it with his warm saliva. Blake pressed hard against the hole with the tip of his tongue.

"Relax. Relax, baby, loosen up," he soothed me before going back to what he started. Once again, he forced his tongue against my asshole, but this time he was able to force the tip of his tongue inside. I squealed at the feeling and found myself rubbing at my clit. He kept his tongue broad and pressed harder. Within seconds, I was seeing stars, crying his name and panting and sweating before collapsing on top of him. When I finally came back to my senses, he was grinning like an idiot.

Blake wasn't done. He pushed me over, holding up my legs and taking me missionary style without hesitation. I was still high from the previous orgasm and the added stimulation was insane. My entire body shook as he pounded into me, forcing his thick cock into my dripping pussy.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips lewdly slapping against mine, "you're fucking soaked."

"I know...It's because of you..." It took all the effort I could find to manage to form an entire sentence.

"You like when I eat you out, huh? Front and back?"

"Yes!" I panted, now digging my nails into his biceps. His thrusts became hard and erratic as he drew closer to the edge.

"You like when I stick my tongue in your tight little asshole?"

"Blake!" All I could do was cry his name and hold onto him as if for dear life.

"You're so fuckin' bad," he panted, "I love it." Blake forced himself the whole way in and held it there, releasing his load inside of me. My walls clamped around him in ecstasy as we both finished. He fell onto his side, both of us just lying there in a sweaty mess. After catching his breath, Blake laughed and dragged one hand along his jaw.

"Promise me this isn't just a vacation thing," he said, looking over at me. "Promise me we'll keep doing this when we get home."

"You have my word," I agreed with a laugh. Blake smiled and rolled onto his back.

"Think we'll get more than a few hours of sleep this time?"

"I'm not getting out of bed until noon," I agreed. We both cracked up. Blake pulled me close to him, sighing contentedly.

"I think I'm finally feeling better," he told me. I smirked.

"What a shame."

--

It was eleven thirty in the morning when we did eventually get up. I rolled onto my side, warm and comfortable and not wanting to get out of bed. My body was still physically exhausted from the previous night, but I wasn't complaining. The movement woke Blake up, though he just grumbled to himself and rubbed his eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty."

"Like...in the morning?" Blake opened his eyes and looked around at the now-bright room.

"Like, in the morning."

"Fuck." Blake rested his arms behind his head and looked over at me. "What are we doing today?"

"I don't know," I replied, pulling on a t-shirt. "We have all of today and tomorrow morning booked here, but I don't really want to go back to the park."

"Yeah, it kind of sucked."

"Don't get me wrong...I enjoyed it," I said with a grin. Blake mirrored my expression.

"I did too, but I could do without the crowds," he laughed and sat up. "And I'm hungry."

"I don't blame you, I don't think you have much in your system. Want to go get some crackers or...canned soup or...something?"

"There's a Waffle House down the road," Blake suggested.

"What! Waffle House!? The way you're feeling?" I looked at him incredulously as I tugged on a pair of jeans.

"What, you gonna' cook up breakfast in this uh...gourmet kitchen?" He motioned to the shitty microwave that served as the hotel room's only form of 'kitchen.' (There wasn't even a mini-fridge, and to be fair, the crappiness of the suite made me feel a little bit better about Blake shitting in their bath tub).

"Listen!" I laughed, "it was advertised as being way nicer than it actually is. The rates were good."

"Oh yeah, real five star hotel. It's...functional," Blake snorted, searching for a clean pair of pants. "Come on, I feel better. We're getting real breakfast at a real Waffle House."

--

A hot breakfast indeed proved better than eating crackers in a hotel room.

"This is so fucking good," Blake said between forkfuls of waffle. I couldn't help but grin as I watched him chow down.

"Slow down, hun. You're going to end up sick again," I warned, taking a sip of my coffee. He smiled and took another bite.

"On the contrary, you need to eat more. You've barely eaten this entire trip," he told me, motioning to my plate with his fork. "If you don't eat up, I'm gonna take yours, too," Blake teased. I laughed and pulled my plate closer defensively.

"I don't like eating junk food, you know that," I replied.

"It's not junk food, it's breakfast food. It's in a league of its own." Blake leaned across the table and took my coffee, stealing a sip from it.

"Woah woah woah! No coffee!" I laughed, taking it back from him. "Coffee doesn't agree with you on the best of days."

"I don't really care. Do we have anything better to do than stay in the room all day anyway?"

I glanced outside. It was gray and raining and cold, not really the ideal day for exploring a new town—not that there was much to explore. The town around the mountain was less than savory, the mountain had been a tourist trap, and the weather sucked. It was shaping up to be a pretty shitty trip (pun intended), but at least we knew how to make it a good time.

"You're right. We could rent a movie," I suggested, watching as Blake finished off the last of my coffee. Just in time, a waiter passed by and offered to refill the mug. Blake nodded in smug, enthusiastic agreement.

"Good idea," he agreed once the waiter had gone. "I say we rent a movie, grab some snacks, and make use of that hotel room." He winked at me over the mug of coffee and I rolled my eyes.

"Give me back my drink."

---

It was another two hours before we ended up climbing back into bed. We picked out two movies from Redbox, stopped by the store, and headed back to our economy suite. Blake fiddled with the cheap DVD player provided by the hotel as I took off my pants behind him.

"Hang on there, wait for me," Blake scolded, but grinned.

"You got all night, don't worry," I replied as I kicked the jeans aside. Blake tossed the remote onto the bed before turning to me.

"Now," he began, taking me by the hips, "where was I?" Blake pulled me flush against his body, one hand on my ass, one hand on my back as he kissed me. I took off his ballcap and let hit the floor, running my fingers through his hair. Without warning, he grabbed me and picked me up, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me over to the bed and dramatically threw me down. I couldn't help but laugh as I hit the bed, leaving him standing over me.

"Strip for me," I challenged him, sitting up. He laughed, dragged one hand across his beard, and nodded.

"Alright," he agreed complacently.

"Shirt first!"

Blake lifted his shirt off over his head slowly and dramtically.

"Flex for me."

"No!"

"Come on, Hercules," I said, sitting up and running one hand along his chest and stomach.

"Hercules," he snorted with sarcastic bemusement. "I haven't been Hercules in ten years." Blake couldn't help but grin as he held up his arms and flexed, striking a pose. I settled back and watched. He turned his back to me and repeated the motion, showing off his backside. I admired how tightly his jeans stretched across his firm ass, which I leaned forward and swatted at. When he turned back around, I rewarded him by stroking myself through the fabric of my panties, opening my legs wide so he could see.

"Good job," I crooned. "Pants next."

"You know what?" Blake undid his belt buckle and tugged his belt off. "If you don't stop bossing me around, I'm going to use this on you."

I raised my eyebrows with both excitement and amusement. He held one end of the belt in each hand and made a loud 'snap' with it, but dropped it onto the floor. I watched eagerly as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before forcing them down and stepping out of them.

"Next?" asked Blake.

"Touch yourself," I instructed. I slipped my hand beneath the thin cotton fabric of my panties and bit my lip teasingly, putting on a good show for him. He did similarly, stroking his now-erect cock through his briefs. He ran his hand up and down the shaft of his cock, pressing to emphasize the outline of his bulge through the material.

"Do you want to fuck me?" I asked, working my fingers in and out of my pussy.

"Yes," he groaned, "of course, baby."

"What do you want to do to me?"

"Everything."

"Like what?"

Blake bit his lip and desperately pawed at his erection through the constricting fabric. "I want to bend you over on all fours."

"And then?"

"Fuck you in the ass."

"God," I gasped, pulling my panties to the side so he could watch my fingers work in and out of my pussy.

"Can I get it out?" Blake asked, motioning to his cock. There was a damp spot on the gray fabric of his briefs where the head was pressed against it, already dripping precum. I nodded, and he wasted no time pulling out his length and stroking at it. He didn't take his eyes away from my hand. "I want to bend you over and force my cock into your tight ass," he moaned as he pumped his cock up and down. "I want to do what we did last night."