Bottled Water 1

Posh cafes, I can take them or leave them. Venues don't usually do it for me, I'm more into the clientele. So as I walked in, I was scanning the occupants, rather than the decor, looking more for someone to sit with, than for a comfortable corner. A quick look around, because it's best to know where you're headed before you set off. Be a hawk, and leave the fluttering to butterflies.

By a window there was a woman on her own, her hair a halo in the early evening backlight. 30's, blonde, slender, feminine business dress. Alone. Alone for a reason though? Maybe her posture, legs crossed and half turned towards the window, hinted that that was what she had chosen. Or did the outside light, shining on the pages, make it easier to read? She'd been there for at least a half wine glass, so plenty of time to have been approached. But she was alone, and eyes glued to the page, not returning my eye contact. But fortune favours the brave, I reminded myself, as I went over. Sauntering, I didn't want to arrive like the cavalry.

She didn't look up, so I had a moment to take things in. Despite the glass in her hand, a bottle of water on her table was not unusual, but the two others in her bag were. I'm like that, I notice things, and these piqued my curiosity. All three bottles lacked their labels, and were filled to the brim. With tap water, maybe?

In situations like this, you always need an ice breaker, and this seemed as good as any.

"Do you drink a lot of water then?"

She looked up, a quizzical expression on her face.

"I'm sorry...."

"Do you drink a lot of water then?"

"No more than anyone else, I imagine."

"You seem to have a lot with you, that's all."

"They're not for me. They're for the one I'm going to meet."

"You expecting him to be thirsty then?"

"Oh, I do hope not. But just in case, I have water for him."

She was enigmatic, but perfectly friendly. And attractive too, which was why I'd started this conversation, though I now felt I was getting out of my depth. Still, sink or swim.....

"May I sit here?"

"Be my guest." She had an enchanting smile. And I was still very curious about her water.

"I wouldn't be taking someone's seat?" I questioned. "Only before, you mentioned meeting somebody..."

"Oh, there's no date or anything. It's just in case I do meet someone." She paused. I waited. "I do seem to meet people often..."

Looking like she did, that didn't surprise me. "You've met me."

She smiled at this. "Yes, I have, haven't I?"

"But you haven't offered me any water."

"I don't know if I want to, yet."

"OK. While you're deciding, I'm going to get a drink. Would you like something? More wine, maybe? Or something different?

"A glass of white, would be lovely. Thankyou."

I returned with my beer, her wine, and an empty glass. Now it was her turn to ask questions.

"Who's that glass for?"

"Me, if or when you've decided I'm worthy of your water. It's not holy water or something is it?"

She laughed. "No, it's just tap water. But all water's good for you, isn't it?"

"It is indeed. My Dad always said, 'if you don't drink you'll die...'"

"He sounds a wise man."

"He was. Though he meant alcohol. He made his own, see, didn't want to see it wasted."

She opened her bottle and poured some into the empty glass. And more, filling it, right to the brim, till some slopped over the rim.

"Oh my, look what I've done. I've spilled some," she said, with a coquettish smirk. She held my eye, smiling, and I was now getting an idea of where this might be going. The idea of some spillage, with her, was quite arousing.

"Now drink it, and don't spill any!" she commanded.

Seems I was wrong about the spillage.

I'd already drunk most of my beer, though she'd hardly touched her wine.

"Another beer?"

"Sure, thanks. Though if I keep drinking this quickly I'll be running to the toilet every five...."

"Don't!" Her interruption was just a little too strident. She looked around, appearing a little flustered, then stared at the table. I knew I'd touched something, so continued pressing.

"What is it?" I asked, showing concern. "Something about your water?" I was wondering if my first impressions had mislead me.

"I'll get your drink. Wait there." I was going nowhere, I was now completely hooked.

She came back with two glasses, both full, neither holding wine. While she'd been away I'd finished my beer, but now had another two to get through.

"I've not had a lady try to get me drunk before", I quipped.

"Not drunk, just full. I'd like you to drink a lot, just a lot of liquid."

"I see. You're doing pretty well at that so far. What do you hope to get out of it?"

"Can't you guess?"

I thought. And thought some more. "I can't. Tell me." And hoping my puzzled expression was really showing that I wasn't bluffing. I really had no idea why she wanted me to drink so much, but not get drunk.

"I guess you've not done it before," she said. She made 'it' sound so enigmatic, especially in her cultured accent, spoken from her red lips.

"I guess not, whatever it is. But I'm intrigued now. So tell me."

Her expression was earnest, and I had the feeling that somehow I was now going to be put to the test. She took my hands in hers and asked, "What do you think about when you pee?"

I stared at her for a moment. And thought about my hands in hers. Her small & soft hands. That was very forward, wasn't it? I wasn't thinking so much about my answer, instead why she might be asking. "Just peeing, I guess. I don't think I've ever thought about what I was doing, when I was doing it. Except maybe sometimes relief. Y'know, when you're busting, and you've had to wait. That's a nice feeling, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Seems a terrible waste though, doesn't it?"

"What, the pee? I suppose so. hadn't thought about it like that. But what else can you do with it except pee it away?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, I can think of a use."

I waited. "You gonna tell me?"

She looked around furtively, but said nothing. Instead, she pulled her bag onto her lap & took out a pen. Then fumbled some more through it, and eventually took out a napkin. She wrote on it, shielding her words with her hand, then slipped it across the table, her hand still obscuring the words. Slowly she withdrew her hand, leaving the napkin in front of me. On it she'd written, 'I WANT TO DRINK YOUR PISS'. I read it again, forming the words silently with my lips. 'I want to drink your piss....'. Now that was a first, no-one had ever told me that before. But as I thought about it, thought about her doing that, an image came into my mind. Her on her knees before me, my cock in her mouth, her hand around it, me holding her head to it as my piss flowed out, into her mouth, she drinking it as quickly as she could, some of it running out of the corners of her mouth. Damn! That turned me on. I looked at her, across the table, and she looked back at me with an intense gaze. I felt like she was reading my mind.

I leaned forward, and told her, "Come closer, I want to say something." Our heads came closer. "Even closer", I said, and we both leaned forward until we were within whispering distance of each other. Her hair was fragrant.

Very slowly and quietly I said to her, "I want to piss in your mouth too. I do now, anyway, that's for sure. All I've drunk, I'm going to flood it, there'll be so much piss that you won't be able to keep up, it will run out of your mouth, down your chin & over your tits in a golden shower. And when I've emptied myself, I'm going to keep my cock in your mouth, I'm going to hold your head there and fuck your mouth, and you're going to suck me, until I give you your dessert. And if that runs out of your mouth too, even better. Is that what you had in mind?"

She turned her head towards mine, her lips & breath brushing my ear as she answered.

"Exactly!" she whispered. "Now finish your beer."