Exploring Piss On A First Date Pt 01

Anna was freshly eighteen when she first started to explore the feelings she got when she had to pee and started to feel that certain tingle between her legs that meant she was getting turned on.

It started by browsing the internet, stumbling across videos of girls peeing on themselves. She would watch them and wish it could be her, wistfully staring at their writhing bodies underneath the healthy streams. The videos would bring out an entirely different kind of orgasm than she had ever experienced. And it didn't take long before she started experimenting, herself. It would start with holding her pee for a couple of hours and enjoying the relief of letting it all go when she finally let herself go to the toilet. And one day she finally had the courage to put on a cute pair of panties and a pair of old leggings and step into the shower to let it all out. The hot stream running down her legs, turning the leggings see-through, the hissing noise it made when it hit the fabric between her thighs. She relished it all.

The first partner she experimented with was her college boyfriend. On a drunken night, she squatted beside a bush to pee, making sure he was standing guard a few feet away. It turned her on, especially when he glanced back to watch her, obviously intrigued.

So she took him home, stripped naked in the shower, and asked him to pee on her. She came without even having to touch herself, the hot piss streaming over her enough to send her over the edge. Maybe it helped that they were both drunk and didn't have inhibitions, but the sex after they rinsed off was intense, him pumping harder into her than he ever had, her screaming out his name when she climaxed two more times.

And in general, asking guys to piss on her after they had been drinking wasn't all that crazy. Most of them would say yes, and more than half of them would be into it, especially the way she moaned and rubbed the piss over her body, or held their cock in her hand, directing the stream across her breasts or directly toward her clit.

But only a few guys had taken it farther than that. None of them had seemed to be into watching her flood her panties, or a pair of pants. So she just did that in private, sometimes filming herself to post online, a faceless video with a bland background so she couldn't be identified.

Her videos attracted plenty of messages, and after a long time chatting with someone named Trevor (username piss_guy34), she found out he lived in her town. She had sat on that information for a few weeks before revealing to him that she also lived there. She got ahold of his other socials and made sure he seemed like a real, normal person. Once she was satisfied that he wasn't just an internet creep, she asked if he wanted to meet up.

So that brings us to now. Anna makes her way down the block toward the bar they agreed to meet at. Nowhere near her house, just in case. His name is Trevor. He's 31, divorced, no kids, and he works as an engineer.

She spent an hour picking out what to wear, how to do her hair. She landed on a tight fitting mini dress covered with an oversized jacket to cover up with in case things don't seem to be going well. She pulled her short dark hair back into a clip and put on minimal makeup. Underneath her dress she's wearing a matching bralette and panties--blue satiny fabric that makes her feel sexy.

It's dark in the bar, and she has to wait for her eyes to adjust for a moment. She looks around the room for him, and spots him quickly. He's tall, maybe a little over six feet. Racially ambiguous, dark hair, tan skin. She can spot his jawline from all the way across the room. Impressive. A short beard covers it up, but it still shines through. He's wearing a denim jacket, brown pants, and a button up tee.

They're awkward at first. Anna thinks he's about to go for a handshake, but he turns it into a side hug at the last minute.

He speaks first. "Wow, weird to finally meet in person. In like, a normal setting."

She's seen videos of his cock, pissing a strong stream onto the ground, or a cumshot onto the bathroom counter. She blushes, but it's too dark in here for him to see, she thinks.

"Yeah, who would have thought we'd be here," she laughs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes are on her, but she feels shy.

He's got a beer in front of him. "What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll take a tequila tonic, to start off." She realizes the mini dress is so short it means her pussy just has this thin layer of fabric between her skin and the chair. She can feel herself getting wet, despite the nerves.

"Be right back," he tells her, walking to the bar to order her drink. She keeps a close eye on his hands, making sure he's not going to slip something in it. From their video calls he seems like a fairly normal person, but especially because he's the type of guy to post about kinks on the internet, she does worry deep down that he could be hiding other deviant behaviors.

She tries to think back through their messages, trying to remember something she can talk to him about besides piss play. It's not the only thing they've talked about, but they generally keep the conversation on sexual topics, rarely venturing into anything else. He's great at messaging, knows exactly what to say to get her off. His messages make him seem like a gentle lover, and it makes Anna want this date to go well so they can get there.

He's back with the drink, and holds his beer out for her to cheers with. "To finally meeting in person," he says, winking. It makes her heart flutter. She sips her drink, shifting in her seat and noticing the wetness in her panties. It's thrilling, meeting up with someone who has the same kink as her--someone she won't have to have careful conversations with to judge the interest level without freaking him out.

They talk about work for a bit, but she's boring herself and the tequila works its magic to quickly make her comfortable. She asks him about his life outside of work, careful not to steer too quickly into sexual topics. He's a good conversationalist, asking questions, and follow up questions, and actually seems interested when she tells him about her garden, and her collage-making hobby. He's into sports, and sports betting, but he's careful to explain that it's not all he spends his time doing. He fosters dogs (swoon), and is working on building a house on some property outside of town.

They're finished with their drinks before she realizes how long they've been sitting. She gets the second round, taking the opportunity to shed her jacket and show off her ass as she strolls to the counter.

On the way back, juggling both of their drinks, she spills a little of his beer down her arm. She smiles at him as she licks it off, and the effect is instantaneous--his gaze follows her tongue like he's in a trance, and his posture stiffens. She giggles. "You like that?"

He nods, a slow smile reaching his face. Their eyes lock and they don't have to say much to know that this date is going well. He slides closer, glancing around the bar before speaking in a low voice. "I'm not used to going into a date already knowing the sexual preferences of the person I'm with...so forgive me if I'm being too forward." He clears his throat and bows his head for a moment to look down at his shoes. When he comes back up, he leans in closer, and she can feel his gaze on her cleavage as he speaks, "I could use a trip to the restroom, if you want to come...watch."

She sucks in a breath, her heart fluttering. "Um, yes. Let me drink this quickly, so I don't leave it here."

He grins, teeth bright in the dark lighting. "That's fine, I can wait a bit." He sits back, and she notices him adjust the front of his pants as he does. She doesn't realize right away, but she's grinding into the hard chair beneath her ever so slightly, feeling the hardness under her thin panties, the wetness seeping out and threatening to coat the barstool.

Before she can overthink it, she opens her legs a little, lifting the edge of her skirt so he can see up it to her panties. She keeps her eyes on him as she does this, gauging his reaction. His gaze snaps immediately to her, and he blows out a breath, biting back a smile. She sucks down half her drink in a big gulp. As each moment passes she gets more excited about feeling that mouth of his, on her lips, on her skin...other places.

There's mostly just ice left in her drink, and she takes one more sip before standing. "I'm going to go back there now, and you follow in a minute," She tells him, letting her hand touch his knee and drag along his thigh as she sweeps past him.

As she hoped, the bathroom is private. There's two of them, so they won't need to rush. She stands at the sink and fixes her hair, leaning forward to glance at her makeup. She slides a hand down to feel the wetness on her panties. Sure enough, it's seeped through the thin fabric. She wonders if it left a mark on the chair. The thought makes her shiver.

A light knock at the door, and she opens it for Trevor. Standing right next to her, he's so tall. He's here in front of her, looking at her lips with a fire in his eyes. He locks the door behind him and turns to her.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" he asks in a hushed tone, glancing back at the door.

She shakes her head, eyes wide. "No, never. I'm nervous." The tequila lets her be honest. She feels her clit, suddenly so aware of the way the wet fabric at her opening brushes against it, teasing her.

"I haven't either. I don't know the etiquette." He's standing there in front of the door, still.

"Well," she says, looking around the bathroom. "I'm not having sex in here, if that's what you're getting at." She starts to say more, but he cuts her off.

"No, no, I wasn't thinking that. I mean, I didn't come in expecting anything, but look at you. You're hot, and...I know what you look like under those clothes. And we've been drinking." She notices the bulge in his pants, now. Is it getting bigger? Her heart pounds.

She nods, fighting the urge to bite her lips as she looks up at him. She bites her cheek instead, waits for him to say more. He doesn't. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe...if you tell me what you were thinking, I might be thinking the same thing?"

He takes a breath, steeling himself for the words. His eyes rake up her body once again, catching between her legs--nothing is visible, but, like he said. He knows what she looks like underneath that tiny dress.

"I was just thinking you could watch me piss, and I could watch you. And we can do more than that if you want, but I don't want to make a mess."

She nods. "That sounds like exactly what I want to do. Except--I need to wait a little bit longer to pee." It's not that she doesn't have to go--she could certainly make it happen. She just enjoys that feeling of being full, the desperation that makes her squirm. And he knows that, she remembers.

He nods, a glint in his eye. "That sounds good to me. Couple more drinks wouldn't hurt, right?"

His hand has drifted to his button, and it seems to be fighting the urge to touch that bulge, that, yes, has grown considerably. She pictures his cock, gripped in his hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his bedsheets. More wetness flows between her legs.

"Right," she says, aware of the fact that she's staring. She pulls her eyes away to meet his. He's smirking.

"Naughty," he tells her, and starts to unbutton. She smile back, bringing a finger up to her lips to bite gently.

He frees his cock, standing at attention, pointing directly at her. She bites down harder on the finger and adjusts her stance, feeling her slick pussy gliding in the juices in her panties. She leans against the wall beside the toilet, and he widens his stance and points the head down toward the water.

If someone were to ask her why this is turning her on, she wouldn't have a good answer for them. She's watched people pee before in nonsexual contexts and it doesn't necessarily turn her on, although she would be lying if she said if never turned her on. It's something about this setting, the secretive meet up in the bathroom, the thrill of meeting her sexting partner in person. Plus, knowing that they mutually enjoy this taboo--in past sexual encounters when her partner didn't enjoy it so much, she wouldn't have felt comfortable openly staring at him as he peed, and she wouldn't have been able to enjoy it. But here, she's free to enjoy it.

Once the stream starts, she can feel his gaze on her, watching her watch him. He lets out a soft breath, barely audible over the sound of the piss hitting the water. He adjusts the angle of the stream, leaning closer. Anna crosses her legs to feel the soft press of her thigh against her clit. Trevor watches, eyes glued to where she's biting her finger. She breaks eye contact with his cock to meet his gaze, and she can feel the smile on her face mirroring his. This feels like just the beginning of something very fun.

The stream dribbles now, and he leans closer to the toilet as the last stream comes out in a quick spurt, and then a few drops, and then nothing. He shakes his still hard cock, and she has to marvel at the length--in person it does seem even bigger than in his videos. Impressive how easily he can pee with it so hard, too. Useful skill.

He tucks himself back into his pants, buttoning back up. Anna steps forward, needing to taste his mouth before they return to the bar. He gets the hint immediately and reaches down to cup her chin, taking a brief moment to look into her eyes before bending down to touch his lips to hers. He tastes like beer, and his breath is warm, and his tongue expertly pushes into her mouth, and his lips are only a little chapped, and his stubble isn't so sharp that it hurts as it scrapes against her skin. She lets a small moan escape, and his other hand comes to her waist to pull her closer. She can feel his need in this kiss, and she's sure he can feel hers, too.

But they're both suddenly reminded that they don't want to take this too far too fast, in this bar bathroom, of all places. He gives her lips another gentle nip before pulling away, and they're both breathing hard. She wipes her lips, feeling how swollen they are. If her pussy was wet before, it's practically a waterfall, now. She can feel her juices flowing out of her, and her thighs are slick now.

"You go out first, and I'll wash my hands and meet you there soon," he instructs her, one hand still lingering on her waist and reluctantly pulled away as she turns to leave.

To be continued...