Fun 1

Kate was in the kitchen. It was seven in the morning. I was awake with an evil hangover, a bad taste in my throat, eyes swollen and unhappy. I crawled out of bed and staggered into the kitchen.

"Hey," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Kate whispered. "I'll be going in just a minute. I have to get to work early." She cleared away her breakfast dishes.

"No, you didn't wake me, I wanted to come talk to you," I said, groggily, sitting down on a kitchen chair. "Last night was crazy."

"What happened?"

"God, it was insane. Just too emotional." I tried to focus my spinning head. "I just found out a friend of mine is getting divorced, and she was devastated. So Beth and I took her out drinking, and got carried away." I looked at Kate sadly, "That was the first time I've puked from drinking."

"I'm sorry, but it's a rite of passage, you know?"

"Yeah. But the problem was that earlier in the evening, I came onto Beth, and she rejected me. That sucked donkey cock."

"Poor Honey. You can tell me more later, I really have to leave." With that, she gathered her things and was off. I locked the door behind her, and went back to bed.

I hadn't told her about the watersports.

Beth had given me a little goodbye hug at the entrance to the T, and then we had gone our separate ways. Freezing rain had been soaking my jacket and shoes. The walk home had seemed infinite. And then I decided, through haze of rejection and alcohol, to just fucking go for it.

I had been wearing khaki pants, white socks, and sneakers. The night was black and the street deserted. I could see for a mile in both directions, and there was no one around. This was my fantasy. I'd fantasized about my fantasy so much I could hardly think of it as a reality, but then here I was. I cursed myself for peeing before I left the bar. I hoped I would have some left.

I stepped behind a lamppost, and stood legs shoulder width apart. The cold from the ground and puddles underneath my feet was almost unbearable. And yet, I was pissing myself.

I let go, just let my muscles relax, and felt the hot piss begin to well in my underwear. It took an incredibly long time for it to gather enough weight to spill out, but then it was and it was spilling down my legs. I felt the streams tickled my ass, hot!, and soak my khakis in dark patches on the inside of my legs, spilling onto my socks and shoes.

I kept pissing, until my bladder was empty. The cold hit me immediately. The rest of the walk home, I shuffled and skipped, alternating, and splashed in puddles to try and cover up the signs of my "accident."

It was funny, I didn't even consider that Kate would be up when I stumbled into out apartment, or even worse that she might have someone over. She didn't though. I was greeted with a warm, dark house. I took off my soaking shoes at the door, and left piss-damp sock prints on the carpet on the walk to my room. I turned on my light, and looked in my full-length mirror.

My face was red from the cold. My pants were wet. Spreading from below my asscheeks was the telltale path of the piss. It ran down both legs, and pooled at the cuffs. I stripped off my clothes, and reveled in the nakedness as I danced to the bathroom.

The air was tingly on my bare ass and belly. I read somewhere that you'd better wash pee off your body quickly if you didn't want a rash. I stepped into the shower, turned the water on hot. I soaped myself up, especially between my legs, and practically fell asleep right there, under the showerhead.

Back in bed, I had been too tired to masturbate, but I had managed to throw up in my trashcan before passing out. That had not marred the evening, it had simply seemed rather strange.

After Kate left for work, I found myself in bed, contemplating the events of the previous evening. I had just engaged in my first truly deliberate act of public lewdity. I was dizzy with power. Well, not really, but I was rather horny.

I found my hand slipping down between my legs. I smiled in my hung over, sleepy way, and enjoyed the wetness seeping from between my pussy lips. I thought of my new boyfriend Jake and his gorgeous cock. Our bodies fit together like nothing I'd ever experienced. When he fucked me, I could feel him pulsing with every stroke. I sighed and imagined his fingers digging into my cunt, my legs splayed and gripping his, my hands hanging onto whatever they could grab.

I'd hinted to Jake about the watersports. He didn't seem into it, but he wasn't disgusted either. I couldn't help it. Whenever he'd take a break to go into the bathroom, I would listen by the door. My masturbation scene changed. Instead of getting fingerfucked by Jake, I was exploring watersports joy with him. My jack-off scenario went like this:

Jake and I are in the bathroom, brushing our teeth before bed. As custom, he gently grabs my shoulders and points me to the door when he wants privacy. I don't budge.

"Honey," he says, "I have to take a piss." He looks at me strangely, as if I'm suddenly not well.

"Can I watch?" I ask, with a big smile I can't control.

"Uhhh…" he stammers.

"It would make me so happy." I have him where I want him. He's melting.

"It would make you happy to watch me piss?"

"It would make me even happier if you pissed on me, but maybe we should save that for later." I bat my eyelashes at him. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can go outside," I head for the door.

"No, Honey, wait." He grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. "OK," he whispers into my ear, taking little bites of my earlobe, "whatever makes you happy."

That is all I need to hear. I make sure the door is locked, then I pull him into the bathtub. I strip off my shirt and shorts and open his bathrobe. He's semi-hard.

"Honey," he says, "I've never done anything like this before."

"Oh, yes you have," I say, stretching out below him in the cold bathtub, "you've pissed hundreds of thousands of times in your life. But this time, it'll land on me. You come on me. It's the same thing." I reach up and stroke his chest. I've got time on my side. He really has to go.

He's got his hand lightly squeezing his cock. His eyes are closed. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asks, one more time.

"Yes!" I exclaim, reaching up and stroking his inner thigh.

"OK," he says, and lets loose a stream of piss, the force of it stinging my breasts as it hits them and runs like rivers over my ribs, into my armpits and then the bathtub. "Do you like that?" he asks, using his dirty-sex voice.

"Yes," I moan, "but please, piss all over me." He begins to move his cock around, his piss slower now and streaming down my belly. He pauses when he gets to my cunt, stays there a little longer, working my clit.

He's getting into it, he knows how dirty I am. He gives me a quick look and lets the last of his stream out over my face. I close my eyes and part my lips. I am filthy, I am a whore and I adore it.

He moans deep and guttural, loud, as he realizes that I am getting a mouthful. I'm tasting his piss.

He grips his cock and jerks a few times. That's all it takes before he explodes onto me. Thick cum spurts onto my chest and neck. It stings. In a good way.

"Christ, motherfucking Christ," he grunts.

In bed, and convulsed and came onto my hands, drooling onto the pillow. "What are the chances he'd actually go for that," I wondered. And even if I could convince him (through bribery or whatnot) to piss on me, would that get me any closer to my actual goal? I dreamed of marking him. I wanted to sit on his lap and piss on his cock.

I'd just come, but I felt my lips swell again at the thought of the joy of that. I'd sit him down and smile into his eyes. Then I'd let go. My full bladder would burst; torrents of piss would flood down his legs. His cock would harden immediately, if only from the sudden warmth. I'd smell the light scent of fresh urine rise from my stream. He'd moan. He'd fucking grab my asscheeks and grind me into him. I knew he'd take it. I knew he'd like it if I could get him to do it.

I'd piss till I was empty, then we'd fuck like mad. I'd show him the new videos I'd purchased; the ones with desperate girls wetting themselves. We'd drink a lot of water together.

I sighed. I was still hung over and I still needed to sleep. I turned over and closed my eyes. He was a really good guy. I'd work on him. I could break him in.