Introduction: Who, What, When, Wet, Waste Ada changes lives. It's probably stupid, but if I had to give someone a “what to do before death” suggestion, hooking up with Ada is what would first come to mind. But to talk about Ada, I'll first have to give you a brief introduction to the rest of us and what we were planning to do. I'm Gerta. It's actually Gertrude, but that's probably the only way you could make that name less sexy. Normally I wouldn't do this, but I know how these writings go—I basically have to. I'm about five-foot-five, very dark brown, almost black hair that I've been wearing in long, loose layers lately. I'm also a fairly big girl, with dimensions similar to model Ashley Graham's: Waist. 34". Bust. 42.5". Hips. 47". Fortunately, it's never really kept me back in life nor the sexual playing field. In fact, people tell me I remind them of Graham all the time, but I sort of figure it's their polite way of saying “you're big but I'd smash.”

I'm Thirty-three years old. My husband, Kenneth, he towers over me. He's pretty fit for a guy his age (thirty-eight). He can even pick me up off the bed and body-slam me back onto it in the position he wants to fuck in next. He keeps his hair in a tight buzz, and was born in South Africa in the end days of apartheid. And even though he's actually half white, half black, I swear to God he's got the dick that more than proves the black-man-big-dick stereotype. Puts it to shame, even. He's got at least nine and a half juicy, meaty, uncut inches between those thighs. If you're wondering how a sort of short, pudgy lady named Gerta wound up with a veritable African fuck-god, it's pretty simple: complete love in every way. He and I swing together, separately, bring people home for one another to share in threesomes. We like orgies, key parties, and we're filthy-kinky. While there are some things he and I haven't tried, the list of hard no's is very short, maybe two or three items. So we're adventurous.

On good days, Ken comes home to the reward of some good poon and ass, and on the bad days he can come in and take it out on me, ahahaha. There is one more player in the story so far. Her name is Beth, and she's a woman I worked with briefly at a daycare, but with whom I forged a strong friendship. She's either fifty-nine or sixty, her brown hair graying to the point she'd began dying it solid white. But despite her age and hair color... and the little bit of extra cellulite that comes with time, etc., she still looked quite youthful. Wrinkles around her mouth from smoking, but still a fairly tightly composed woman. Her tits sag some, but it'd be weird if they didn't, given their size. She's a widow. Her husband was buried not long before she and I met. She was crying some at work, and I asked her the problem. She explained, and then, with no way of knowing what a dirty girl I am, she went out on a limb and, using the politest terms she could, she said, “Well, not to be too blue or anything, but on top of the loss I could also use a good... uh, man's touch. Or woman's. Just touch me, someone!” And then she giggled, playing it off as a joke and not honesty.

I invited her over to ours that night for drinks, and conversation quickly flowed. Turns out that she hadn't just been unfucked since her husband's death—he hadn't even touched her sexually in years. “He'd keep saying I wasn't the woman he married, but damn it, I was thirteen!” Both Kenneth and I sort of tried to hide our looks of shock. “It was a different time!” It wasn't, though, not that different. She said she had her twins at 20 or so and after that he was never attracted to her again. And so, long story short, that night Ken and I fucked her the best we could—me under her eating her out, Kenneth continuously applying a generous amount of lube to her dirty, pungent asshole as he slipped most of his cock in and out.

From then on, the three of us were basically all in a relationship. Or maybe we were like family? I dunno, maybe. One thing we'd never done with Beth, though, was scat play. We enjoyed it immensely in private and with others we knew liked it, but we always sort of worried it could scare Beth off. Once, in another threesome, Ken was plowing a young cute blonde's ass, just, raw, when she began to shit. It was liquidy and runny, quickly running down to drench my hubby's shaft and balls in drips of shit. We both tried to settle her. I began by sucking Ken clean, but when I tried to let the girl let me lick her hole spotless, she finally got too squicked out and left. It was a bummer, pun intended. But then Beth got the internet, and she, like everyone else, began to use it as we do: sex, porn, erotica, and streaming TV shows. We'd known she was having something of an awakening with all the nonstop porn—Ken did her IT work and we saw the tons and tons of folders of, just, every kind of fetish you can probably imagine, but we still never suggested something that'd scared someone away already.

And then, I was out grocery shopping one day. I'd just picked up the produce and milk and such when I could feel my tummy rumble. Breakfast and lunch was ready to come out the other end. I looked around me to see if I was alone or unnoticed. I wasn't—two men, a young mom and her kid were all in my immediate area, and the mother actually made eye contact with me. There was no subtle way to do what I needed to do, so I just tried to time it so no one was looking and I doubled over, pulled the elastic waist of my underwear out some, and checked. Phew. I'd worn bikini panties that day and not a thong. Shitting thongs is great, but when in public, sometimes you wind up giving yourself away with nothing more to catch your load. I then rested my forearms on the handle of the shopping cart, bent over maybe 75 degrees or so, crossed my legs, pretended I was super attentive on the bacon selection, and just let loose. I cross my legs because I always have, since I pooped myself as a girl. I like t, though, because if you do it right, you can squish it up your crotch more and into your cooch. I remember someone saying it smelled like shit, right before I let a pretty loud involuntary fart as I pushed the last out. “Oh my goodness!” I said in my most innocent voice. “I'm sorry, I have terrible gas today. It's that time of the month.” Again, it wasn't, but it's a story I've found works almost 100% of the time.

When I was finally on an aisle alone, I grabbed the front back of my panties and pulled them way up, super tight, smushing my poo around more. I was in ecstasy while pricing taco shells. And then I got the call. It was Ken. Beth was in the room with him. They asked if I could come by Beth's place on my way home. They're both there and Beth has something to share. “Well sure, but she should know I had an accident in the store. It's that time of the month and all.” “No it's not, I know your cycle. I also know what you like, but don't worry. It'll be a plus. You'll see.” Curious and a little worried my scent would cause more problems (it was a particularly bad go, and my pants were dark brown but not dark enough), I cut my shopping short, got to the car, sat down in the driver's side, and began to wiggle back and forth, smearing and spreading my poo all over the insides and outsides of my ass crack and pussy. I did this more or less until I got to Beth's.

When I got to her door, she answer eagerly and waved me in. She was in a pretty unremarkable, blue dress with few frills, but it was too small for her in the bust so it was still rather hot. “Come on, quick! I can't wait!” She was giggling like a schoolgirl. “Okay, but you should know I h--” “Yeah, Ken told me you shit yourself in public. Very nice.” Beth then leaned forward and gave me a deep whiff from crotch to nose. “You smell... fucking amazing, Gertie.” I was a tad surprised, but not all that much. Before I could say anything more, she lead me into her living room, still talking the whole way. Right outside the doorway, she stopped and turned to me, blocking me. Inside the living room I could hear a porno in another language, sounded like Dutch. IT also sounded pretty vigorous. “You know those adult-only sexual fantasy and fetish cruises they started running a few years ago? The ones where each ship has one or two specific fetish themes that everyone focuses on?” Beth asked me. “Yeah, I've heard of those, but it seems sketchy,” I told her. How could that possibly be safe when Carnival and Disney and such can't even have a flawless voyage?” “Well, they've had no problems yet, only rave reviews, and the tickets were on sale so I bought three. You can go with Ken and I or just have to make do with the photos and videos we bring back.” That made me laugh. She's always been funny, I think. “Okay, Beth. Okay. What theme did you choose?” “Well, that's the thing! I was worried it'd be a bad choice until I heard what you did in the market, so let's see. Come with me.” Beth turned and walked on into the living room, me following.

As soon as I rounded the corner, my eyes first went to the large monitor Beth had connected to her laptop to show porn. On the screen were four people, two couples, having glorious, raunchy scat sex on stage in front of an audience! I know, not that amazing, but it got me going immediately, the combination of scat and exhibitionism. And then, from the monitor, my eyes wandered right more to my husband, Kenneth, sitting bare-ass naked in Beth's La-Z-Boy, his cock tall and throbbing, almost against his chest. “You've probably figured it out, Gertie, but if not...” Beth said as she walked over to Ken. She ran her fingers lightly over his cock, then knelt to engulf it in her mouth. It was beautiful. “May I join?” I asked. “Not yet!” Beth said with a popping sound as she took Ken out of her mouth mid-suck. “Ahahaha! Okay, Beth.” Beth then stood, and bending slightly to grab the bottom hem of her skirt, she lifted it to reveal that underneath she was wearing only her smeared vaginal discharge from playing with herself, and a fresh ring of brown around her anus, a sure sign of a dirty ass. I had definitely figured it out, but why stop this?

She began by grinding her clit lightly on Ken's cock before unleashing a steady stream of smelly piss. I moved in behind her and tried to spread her cheeks and she slapped my hand away. “I'll say when, Gert.” “As you wish.” Then after licking some of her piss up, she got up on the chair crouching over Kenneth and began to lower herself into a squat. She first let out a wet fart, followed by a heavy splat of light brown poop that made up her first salvo. She massaged into into Ken's cock, jacking him off with it. And then, she lowered her ass onto it. It was so, so loose. She'd definitely been doing more than exploring. This lady had been experimenting. She bounced up and down on Ken's cock for a bit until he finally shot his load in her ass.

That's when she pulled off it and called to me, “Okay, you can play now.” I instantly took to sucking the shit mixed with my hubby's spunk from her ass, and while doing so she splattered my face with a speckling of shit from a fart. Then, after falling from trying to pull my pants and undies off too fast, I had my own shit-covered coohie and asshole over his dick. Until it got hard enough for another go, though, I had Beth's face buried deep in my crack, lapping away. The sight had him hard again in about four minutes or so, and I let him take my dirty ass with me facing away in the chair so Beth could clean my cunt with her loving mouth. When he came again, Beth returned the favor by sucking on my ass, and then she got to enjoy licking both our waste off of Kenneth's pecker as it went soft again.

Fifteen or so minutes later, as we were smoking a blunt on her patio, Beth finally remembered she hadn't finished her train of thought. “So, what's your guess on the theme?” “Uh, is it scat?” I said, pretending it wasn't obvious. “Well, that's a big part of it, but it's also all bodily functions and smells. It also says here...” Beth continued, tapping the explicit brochure, “That you can bring your family, anyone that's of age.” “I don't see why that matters, none of us have kids of age.” “Well, I do,” said Beth, “But we ain't on speaking terms, much less fuckin' terms. I just like that it means we could maybe get in on some family fun!” That part seemed like a pipe dream of hers, but still, I was sold on the cruise. The ship was leaving about four days from then, from a port in Florida (almost a day's drive), so we all went ahead and began packing. No sex toy, kinky outfit, costume, bottle of lube, or anything else along those lines were left behind. Each of us had roughly two more bags than we could possibly need, but apparently that was fine. **Coming in part two: Our trip reach the ship and Ada is fully introduced. If you liked this even a little, you wouldn't wanna miss it (when it's ready to submit)

THE SEAWARD SEWER - TALE OF A SCAT CRUISE

PART 1 BY FECAL FAYE (MFF, trio, ws, scat