We pulled into the garage, and as the door was shutting, he (of course) ordered me down on my knees. He had me unlace his boots and pull them off. He took off his leather chaps and then started undoing his jeans. He carefully took them off trying to keep the squashed turd pile in them as undisturbed as possible. His ass was caked with shit. As much as I tried, he wouldn’t let me get my face near his ass until he had put on his chaps and boots again. Who was I to argue? Then after sticking a bottle of poppers under my nose, without ceremony, he turned and shoved his unbelievably shitty ass in my face demanding that I clean it up good. As if I had to be told, but I said, “Yes Sir,” like I was supposed to. Most of you probably know that this sort of job is no small thing. It takes real time and effort to spit shine an ass as caked and smeared with fresh shit as this one was. First you have to shovel up all the big, chunky parts off the ass cheeks with your tongue. These require real chewing, which takes some effort. Daddy’s ass was hairy as fuck, so this added to the challenge of licking it clean. Eventually I got the cheeks more or less clean, and after another hit of poppers, dove snout first into the crack. There was pretty much a whole shit log wedged and reformed in the crack, so instead of diving in with my tongue, I had to go teeth first and chew my way in. By now I was used to the taste of his shit, and was able to do this with genuine relish. The shit was so firm that I was able to clean up his hairy crack faster than I thought I would be able to. Daddy must have sensed my disappointment because he said something about there being softer shit up there for later. He wasn’t kidding. I was also wondering what his plans were for the mess in his jeans. I found out before long.
I had finished cleaning up his ass, and was feeling very proud of myself for not puking. I was also getting a little antsy, having held off from shooting my load (with considerable difficulty) for the last 45 minutes or so. He ordered me to lie on my back on the concrete. As I watched, he walked over to his jeans on the floor. He lifted his big-ass boot and brought it down in the middle of the mess in his jeans. He ground it around for a while. Knowing what was coming, my dick got rock fucking hard again. Daddy then strolled over and without preliminaries, planted the Vibram sole of his boot square on my already shit smeared face. He ordered me to clean out his treads. I got to work prying out morsels of Daddy’s shit from in between the lugs of his boot soles. This was no easy task, but the toe of his other boot was dangerously close to my nuts, and he reminded me of this fact.
As I continued to eat the caked shit from his boot soles, he asked if my mouth was getting dry. Sensing what he was getting at, I said, “Yes Sir”. There was none of the awkward waiting one often has to do when a man is trying to piss in your mouth. His piss stream was strong, hot and immediate with the removal of his boot. I’d be lying if I said that I swallowed it all without missing a drop. Piss went fucking everywhere, but I swallowed a considerable amount of it, along with much of the shit that was caked onto my teeth. He must have been holding it for a long time because his piss went on and on. I was afraid to touch my dick because I knew I would blow my load if I did. When he was done pissing, he stepped into his piss puddle to moisten the remainder of the shit on his boot and replaced it on my face. The piss helped a lot, and I was able to clean up his boot sole much easier, getting my tongue between each lug to do a thorough job.
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