A pissing story I came across
When work finished that Friday, a group of us from the office went to the bar at the base of our building, as we did on most Friday evenings. I was particularly looking forward to this get-together as I knew that Emily, the girl who had started with us that week, would be coming along. I had been attracted to Emily the moment my boss brought her over to my desk to introduce her. She was a slim, small-breasted girl in her early twenties, with brown eyes and brown hair dyed red which she usually wore in pigtails. I liked the clothes she wore, tight T-shirts, pleated skirts that gave her a girlish look. From the couple of brief conversations I’d managed to have with her, I knew she had a sense of humour and pretty good taste in movies, so I was keen to find out more.
About six of us crammed into a booth in the bar, and began going over the week’s events and gossip. Emily was, unfortunately, sitting at the other end to me, but as a few people left I was able to manoeuvre myself next to her. She was drinking beer — I think that’s always a good sign with a girl — and she told me how she had moved here from the country a year ago, and this job was the best she’d had (before it, she had been a waitress).
After an hour, we were the only ones of our party left, and I was delighted to see she was in no hurry to leave. I bought another couple of beers for us, and asked her about her family. The more I looked at her, the more attractive she seemed. She was wearing a red T-shirt, a very short black skirt, knee-high black stockings and red patent leather shoes.
Emily was telling me some story about her father, who was a dairy farmer, but I’m afraid I wasn’t listening. I was looking at her face and then, without thinking about it, said, “You’re really cute, you know?” I guess it was a pretty lame thing to say, but it had the desired effect. She put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me quickly on the mouth. I put my arms around her slim little body, and kissed her properly, sliding my tongue between her lips, and she kissed me just as passionately back.
We must have been locked together like that for a good five minutes, and then she whispered the magic words, “You want to come back to my flat?” I needed no persuading. We left the bar and caught a taxi. We resumed kissing in the back of it, and I managed to get my hand under her T-shirt and feel one small, firm breast through soft cotton bra she was wearing.
Arriving at the flat, Emily led me straight into the bedroom. She lay on her back on the bed, and I lay next to her, kissing her face and running one hand over her body. I pushed her T-shirt up, then her bra, and kissed her tits, which had pale pink nipples. She sat up and pulled the T-shirt and bra off, them pulled her shoes off and tossed them on the floor. I took my shoes off too, then my shirt. Emily climbed on top of me, and I slipped my hand under her skirt and found that the crotch of her panties was wet, and rubbed her cunt through it. She was fumbling with my belt, so I undid it and got my pants off. Emily grabbed hold of my cock and, sliding off me, knelt on the bed and began to suck it, while I continued to play with her pussy, which I was delighted to find was shaved smooth.
She lay on her back again and I pulled her panties down and began to lick her hairless cunt. I pushed her legs back so her bum was raised off the bed, and licked along her slit and down to her arsehole, which I tongued thoroughly. Then, spreading her legs, I pushed my cock into her and fucked her.
It had all happened so fast — it had only been about half an hour since I told her she was cute in the bar — that I think we were both a bit shocked. Afterwards, we lay next to each other for a while, not saying anything. Then she sat up and said, “I need to pee.” She looked at me with a curious expression on her face and said slightly hesitantly, “Do you want to watch me?”
“Ah, yeah,” I said, a little surprised. “Sure.”
I thought she would go into the bathroom, but instead she reached down and brought out from under the bed a green plastic dish. Standing up, she placed this on the floor and squatted over it with her legs apart.
Now I must confess I’ve always found the sight of women pissing erotic, and I used to enjoying watching one of my more uninhibited previous girlfriends doing it, so the idea of Emily doing this was a turn-on for me. I slipped off the bed and lay on the floor in front of her, putting my face close to her cunt to get a good view. I heard her sigh, and saw her body stiffen, and then a little squirt came out of her pee-hole, followed by a thick stream of golden pee which splashed into the dish. It was a lovely sight, and I breathed in the smell of it, and grabbed hold of my cock, which was rapidly hardening, and stroked it.
The stream gradually ceased, leaving her pussy glistening and little drops of urine running down her crinkled cunt lips. It was an entrancing sight and — I couldn’t help myself — I pressed my face to her pussy and began to lick it, getting the taste of her piss, strong and acrid but not unpleasant.
I stopped and looked up at her and she was smiling mischievously. “You liked that,” she said.
“Yes,” I said, my face wet with her piss.
“I have some more.”
I didn’t even think about it. “In my mouth,” I said. “Do it in my mouth.”
I lay there with my face over the dish and my mouth open, taking in the sight of her cunt lips open and her pale pink insides. I watched the little dot of her pee-hole, the flesh around it palpitating slightly, and then a little pee spurted out which landed on my chin. I repositioned myself hurriedly and the next spurt went into my mouth, and then my mouth was being flooded by it. I was overcome by how hot it was, and the strange taste of it, like nothing I had ever tasted before. I began to swallow it, struggling to keep up. I wanted to swallow all of it.
The stream ceased. I gulped the last of it down and sank onto the floor for a moment, overwhelmed. I had been wanking myself the whole time and was hard again. Then I sat up. Emily was still squatting on the floor, and I pushed her gently onto her back. She spread her legs wide and I got on top of her, pushed my prick into her still-sopping cunt.
The dish, about half full of yellow pee, was on the carpet by her head. With the weight of my body on my right hand I dipped the fingers of my left hand into it, and then put them to her lips. She licked the piss off them greedily, going “Mmmm.” The sight was too much for me and I came.
Withdrawing, I sank down on top of her, and kissed her mouth, which tasted of piss.
“That was nice,” she said. “I just love people watching me pee. Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve tasted my pee, now I should taste yours. Can you piss for me?” she asked, reaching out and touching my dick.
As I’d been drinking beer, this wasn’t going to be a problem, or so I thought. “If you want,” I said.
“Stand up,” she said. She knelt in front of me, took hold of my cock in both hands and kissed it. “Go on, piss for me. On my face and in my mouth. I want to be your toilet, your piss slut. Go on. Give me that lovely piss.”
Her green eyes looked up at me pleading, rubbing her face against my cock and balls, then opening her mouth. I tried to piss, but I couldn’t, though my bladder was full. It just felt so strange to be doing this.
Concentrating, I finally managed to piss a little bit. It splashed on Emily’s nose and dripped down onto her mouth. “Mmmm, yum,” she said, licking her lips.
Then all of a sudden it came. She was holding my dick and pointed it at her open mouth, and a thick stream of yellow piss went into her mouth, quickly filling it. She drank it down greedily but couldn’t keep up and it began to drip down her chin and onto her tits. The she picked up the dish and held it under my cock so the last of my pee went into it. Smiling sweetly, she raised the dish to her lips and drank some of the piss from it — hers mixed with mine.
“That was great,” she said finally. “Come on, we’d better get cleaned up.” She led me into the bathroom and we had a shower together, toweled each other dry, then got back into bed. She fell asleep in my arms, and I was soon asleep as well.
That night my head was full of confused but happy dreams of urination. When I woke, the clock on the bedside table told me it was ten o’clock and I panicked momentarily, thinking I should be at work, then remembered it was Saturday. Emily was lying with her back to me and I put my arm around her slender body and kissed her on the cheek. She woke and stretched, then rolled around to face me and kissed me on the mouth.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Good,” she said. “Did you have fun last night?”
“I did. It was…interesting.”
She smiled. “So, you don’t mind my little kink?”
“Not at all.”
She slipped off the bed and walked over to a bookshelf and, after rummaging around in it for a while, came back with a small magazine which she handed to me. It was called ‘Pee-Scene’. It had a colour photograph of a very pretty young blonde girl standing against a fence. With one hand she was lifting up her skirt, with the other pulling down her red panties, and a great shower of golden piss was bursting from her pussy.
Intrigued I began to flick through the magazine, which was full of pissing pictures and stories. “Here,” said Emily impatiently, taking it off me, opening it to a particular page and handing it back.
I found myself looking at a photo spread of Emily. In the first, she was sitting on a bench in a park or garden, wearing a black top and tartan skirt. She had her legs spread, and the crotch of her pale blue panties was wet with piss so that you could clearly make out her pussy lips through the material. The next shot showed her on all fours on some grass, her backside to the camera and her panties all wet. The final photo occupied a whole page. It showed her sitting on, or rather squatting above, a toilet. She wore a black bra but nothing else. Her pussy was shaved, and a stream of piss was squirting from it into the toilet bowl. In all three photos she was smiling happily.
There was a brief interview accompanying the photos, which I read.
“What can I say?” cute 23-year-old Emily told us. “I’m a pissy girl! I’ve always been prone to accidents — even laughing too hard can get me going — but lately I’ve been wetting myself a lot on purpose. I love the feel of wet panties against my cunt, and piss running down my legs. I’ve been pissing a lot in public too. Sometimes I wear a pair of black jeans, so it’s not so obvious, but other times I’ve worn a skirt. I love watching people’s reactions. Sometimes they look so shocked, but others, especially guys, they laugh and think it’s great. I’m quite an exhibitionist too, but you probably guessed that. Luckily I have a boyfriend who’s into this too. We like to piss on each other when we fuck, and he says I have the nicest pee he’s ever tasted.”
I looked up from the magazine. “Wow,” was all I could say. Emily grinned at me.
“You, ah, really do that? Piss in public, I mean.”
“Yep.” She took the magazine back and looked at her photos. “They’ve got a website too. There’s some photos of me on that as well.”
“And who’s this boyfriend?”
“Oh, he was my boyfriend before last, actually. My last boyfriend, he wasn’t into pee at all. That’s one of the reasons I dropped him.”
“Well, you can piss in front of me whenever you like. I love watching it.”
I was sitting on the bed next to her with part of the sheet over my lap. Seeing the magazine and Emily’s shameless pictures had got me hard, and I pulled the sheet off me and showed her my cock. “In fact, you can do it now if you want.”
“You bet,” she said, grabbing hold of my hand and leading me into the bathroom. “You want me to do it in the toilet?”
“No,” I said. “I want you to piss on me.” I took a towel off the rack and laid it out on the tiled floor, and sat on it. Emily sat on the edge of the toilet set and began to play with her pussy, stroking her clit and pulling the lips open, as I lay on the towel, wanking myself.
“Do it now?” I said. “Piss on my cock.”
She stood up, still rubbing herself, then squatted over me so her cunt was a few inches above my prick, which I held stiffly in one hand. A few drops of pee spattered on my cock and belly — again I was surprised at the warmth of it — then she let herself go and the piss splashed down on me as I wanked myself furiously. It felt wonderful and I came.
Finishing off, Emily knelt beside me. “Hmm, I think you liked that,” she said, running her fingers over my sopping cock and balls, then leaning forward to lick the sperm and piss from them. When she had finished she said “I think it’s my turn”. I stood up and she took my place on the wet towel, spreading her legs wide. Slipping her fingers into her cunt, she opened it right up and I aimed a stream of piss at it, filling it, then trained the stream onto her face and tits. She loved it.
Piss play became a regular part of our lovemaking. Sometimes we would begin by pissing on each other. Other times, after we fucked, I would keep my cock in her pussy and pee into it. I had soon become used to the strong taste of her piss, and began to crave it. I would get her to piss into the dish and we’d use it in our sex play. One of my favourite things to do was to sprinkle it on her, on her face or tits or arse, and lick it off.
Emily had a lovely little round arse with a neat pinkish-brown anus, and I was pleased when I found out she was quite into anal sex. I would get her to kneel on the bed with her arse up, dip my hand in the dish, the spread the pee over her arsehole and pussy lips. I’ve always loved licking girl’s arseholes, it just seems such a dirty thing to do, and licking a pee-drenched hole makes it seem even dirtier. Emily liked it when I stuck my fingers into her arse, and this sort of play usually ended with me grabbing some lube from her bedside table, rubbing it into her anus and giving her a good arse-fucking. Another kink of Emily’s was she liked having her hair pulled, and as I was fucking her arse I’d reach forward and grab her hair, which as I mentioned was usually on pigtails, and pull her head back. After I came, if I had any piss in me, I’d pee into her bowels. When I pulled out, I loved to see it spilling out of the swollen hole, all mixed with my sperm.
And let’s not forget Emily’s fondness for peeing in public. The weekend after we first got together we went shopping, then went into a bar for a few drinks. We sat in the beer garden out the back, which had six or seven table in it, with umbrellas over them, three of which had people sitting at them.
Emily drained her second glass of beer, put it on the table, and said, “Mmm, think I gotta pee. I don’t know where the toilet is though.”
“You could ask someone,” I said.
“Yeah, I suppose, but I gotta pee pretty bad. I don’t know whether I’ve got time.”
“I see. That’s a problem.”
Emily stood up. She was wearing a white shirt and a pleated blue skirt and looking gorgeous as usual, and she stood there for a while, leaning against the green plastic chair and surveying the garden. It was a warm, sunny day, and the other people in there were chatting away.
“Oh, no, I can’t hold on any longer,” she said softly, A circle of darker blue appeared at the front of her skirt and gradually widened. As the pee began to trickle down and splash onto the concrete, I wanted to turn around to see if anyone else had noticed, but to be honest I would have been a bit embarrassed if I’d caught anyone’s eye. Emily was a lot braver than me.
When she had finished, she sat down again. “Did anyone see you?” I asked.
“Don’t think so,” she said. “Oh, that’s better.” She said, swaying from side to side slightly as she ground her wet crotch and bum against the seat of the chair. When I went to get us another drink I saw the puddle she had left under the table, with little rivulets streaking away from it across the ground.
A couple of drinks later, Emily repeated the performance. When she sat down again, she leant across from me and said, “Ooh, I think that waiter saw me.”
“Perhaps we’d better go,” I said.
“Mmm, yeah, let’s go home.” She grabbed my hand and we left through the back of the garden . We walked up to the main street then headed for her flat, which was about fifteen minutes walk away. Emily’s skirt was soaked at the front and back, and I saw that a few people noticed it. About halfway there, we were standing at a crossing waiting for the light to change when Emily said, “I don’t believe it — I’ve gotta pee again!”
If I had any remaining doubts about Emily being shameless, they were dispelled now, for she started to piss right there. A young guy with a ponytail standing right next to us looked down and saw the piss splashing on the pavement. He said “Whoa!” and stepped back a few paces. A middle-aged woman saw it too and looked disgusted. Then the lights changed and Emily, giggling, ran across the road, piss still dripping from her, with me trying to catch up. We ran the rest of the way.
Emily was laughing as she unlocked her front door. “I can’t believe you did that!” I said.
“Did you see the look on that guy’s face?” she said.
I grabbed hold of her and started to kiss her, and reaching under her skirt grabbed hold of wet crotch. “You dirty thing,” I said. “Get on the floor, on all fours.”
She did as she was told, and I flipped her skirt up onto her back, revealing her panties — pink with black polka dots and soaked through. Pressed my face against her arse, I breathed in the heady smell of her urine, then licked and sucked at the pissy material.
Unzipping my jeans and I got my cock out and rubbed it against the damp panties until I was hard, then pulled the gusset aside and slipped it into her cunt. The wet material was rough against my cock as I fucked her, and the image of Emily pissing in the street was in my mind. I reached forward and got hold of her hair at the back and pulled it hard, and she was moaning and, unable to hold back any longer, I shot my load inside her.
We collapsed onto the floor — we were still in the hallway — and lay for a while face to face, and I kissed her. “You’re amazing,” I said. I meant it, and I knew this was only the beginning of our pissing adventures.
