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On My First Time Pissing On a Guy (and other short stories)

I’ve never been particularly interested in piss.

Shortly after graduating from college, I had a regular fuck buddy. We’d get drunk with a bunch of his friends then fuck around. Afterwards we’d shower together and he’d always, in his drunken state, beg me to piss on him.

It wasn’t something I was into, but I wasn’t opposed. And so I’d try. But I never could. I was too turned on from being naked with him in the shower for the mechanics of that situation to play out as he might have hoped.

Almost 10 years have passed since those drunken nights with my fuck buddy. In that time, I haven’t had another opportunity to try watersports. Sure it had been mentioned in passing with a few of my tricks, but it never materialized. And it still never really piqued my interest.

This summer, some friends and I took a couple trips to a gay, clothing-optional campground. The first weekend we were there was a leather weekend, and there were leather parties to attend at night. The first night, the party was quite epic. I was having an awesome time. I was drunk off my ass.

More importantly, though, my bladder was getting full. However, in the building where the parties were held, there was no bathroom. But there was a bath tub in the back room. With a man lying in it, fully naked of course.

It seemed to be the convenient option, rather than leaving the party to go find a tree, or walk all the way to the nearest restroom. I wasn’t sure if I could perform, but I figured it was now or never to give it a try. So I approached the man in the tub.

I began to piss. Success.

But then the man in the tub started to make some friendly conversation. Now, I don’t know a lot about the watersports scene, but I certainly didn’t expect my human toilet to engage me in conversation. He told me how much he loved it and gave many encouraging words as emptied my bladder onto his waiting body.

It was certainly a strange experience. I visited him several more times throughout the night.

The next night another party was taking place in the same space, and the human toilet awaited in the tub again. By this time I knew the drill. It was familiar territory. We chatted about the weather as I gave him all I had in me.

Later in the night, I came back to piss again, and the man was out of the tub. I asked if he had had enough. He said, “no, of course not, my body is just too old to sit in that tub all night.” So he got down on his knees for me to piss on him again.

As I finished emptying my bladder for what was probably the 10th time over the two nights, he looked at me and told me I was cute. I smiled and said thank you. Then he stood up and patted my face gently. It was a sweet gesture.

Except that his hand was covered in piss — mine and that of god knows how many others as well.