The tarps were fastened securely to my glass coffee table and spread out from them. I took position beneath and laid in wait. It seemed to take Beauregard forever to set up atop the table, hunching backwards and spreading his a** cheeks. Finally his brown star burst forth its filthy payload, and I began stroking my c*** vigorously. That was the last thing I remember.
When I awoke it was daylight. Beauregard was gone, and I lay naked beneath the table and tarps, encrusted with hardened s****. Feces was all over the room. It smelled fantastic.