My Passive Aggressive Friend

Before reading, be aware that this is a story about watersports and non-consent.

Until this happened, I'd been friends with DeShawne for years. We grew up on the same block, went to the same schools, and hung out with the same people. It was unsurprising to me when he suggested we move in together after college, and I readily accepted, not having many other options on my income.

After a while, our friendship gradually started heading south. It was just the strain of living together, minor disagreements piling up over time. It was getting worse and worse with each passing month.

Finally, one day, everything seemed to change. I was doing nothing different, DeShawne just started being nice to me out of nowhere. Always offering to bring me drinks from the fridge, not just grabbing a can of soda, but pouring it in the glass and everything. He started cooking dinner's from home, something he had never done before.

Our friendship seemed to be turning around. He wasn't an amazing cook admittedly, the drinks he brought and food he made always had a weird taste to them, but I was just glad to be done with the conflict.

It started months ago.

"God I hate that asshole. I keep asking him to not leave his dirty clothes lying around. No matter how many times I ask he never does it." DeShawne thought to himself, pulling open the fridge door angrily. He had initially come into the kitchen to grab himself a soda to cool off from our argument. As he looked around, he couldn't find a single one.

"Inconsiderate fuck drank them all" he huffed. He was about to shut the door when a sudden urge overtook him. It was urgent, the kind of urge that leaves you running to the bathroom, barely pulling your pants down in time before the piss hits the bowl.

Looking around, he saw the sink full of his dishes, a definite no go. Then he saw it, in the middle of the fridge, a half empty bottle of juice. In his desperation he grabbed it, practically ripping the cap off of it. Dragging his big cock over the lip of his sweatpants and aiming it directly into the jug.

He barely made it, the minute his cock was positioned above the entrance to the bottle he let loose. A heavy stream of piss mixing in with the orange juice with a satisfying hiss. DeShawne grunted like an animal, taking what he thought could have been the longest piss of his life in the previous half full orange juice container.

As he finished up, a vile thought occurred to him. What if he just...put it back? A grin crept across his face.

The next morning, I sat down at the table, placing my plate of toast in my spot before grabbing a glass from the cupboard. I opened the fridge and pulled out my jug of juice, weirdly it was fuller than last time. Maybe DeShawne had drank it all and bought a new one? I didn't ponder any further, pouring myself a full glass of it.

I brought it over to the table and took a big swig...weird taste, must be getting old. Whatever. At that moment DeShawne stumbled in, still looking tired. He looked at me, glass in my hand, lips wet from the drink.

I thought he was going to yell more about last night, but he just...didn't. He just laughed and walked out. After that, DeShawne started being nicer, always bringing me drinks or dinner and laughing about it to himself.

After I learned what he was doing, he told me all the things he'd done over the months.

Any time he'd bring me a drink he'd pour it in a glass specifically so he could fill the other half with his warm piss. If he was making dinner, more often than not it was filled with his cum. But that wasn't the worst, the worst is when he told me about the time he spent the day making "soup".

I had a long work day ahead of me, DeShawne knew this. I left early in the morning, and told him I wouldn't be back til late. He let me know he'd have dinner ready for me when I was home.

Well, his method of "cooking soup" certainly wouldn't show up in any recipe book. He grabbed a huge pot from the cabinet, and placed it on the floor in front of the couch. Then he just spent the rest of the day sitting naked on the couch, drinking beers and gaming, enjoying himself.

He enjoyed himself so much that he didn't even get up until an hour before I got home. Any time he had to piss? The pot sat there, between his legs, he was so lazy about it he didn't even move it. He just moved himself to sit on the edge of the couch, hung his black hose over the pot and let go. Letting his gut churn the beer he was drinking into disgusting, frothy beer piss.

He spent the whole day repeating this process, sitting up, taking his disgusting beer piss in the pot, shaking the last few drops off in, and sitting back. Treating the pot like his own personal toilet.

Then, after a long day of cooking up and serving his home-brew from his black snake, he grabbed the pot and tossed it on the stove. Chopping vegetables, adding chicken, cooking a meal. When I got home he served it to me, when I asked why he wasn't eating he just told me "he'd already had some"...I ate the leftovers every day after that until there was none left.

The final incident, the day I figured out what he was doing, he told me we were going to have a guys night. The issue is "he told me the wrong time". This was planned.

He got home early, spent the night having a few glasses of whisky. He grabbed a large empty mug from the cupboard, and placed on the table in the middle of the living room. He waited, right before the time he told me to be home.

He set up his phone to record on the couch, aimed at the table. Then, he dropped his sweatpants, walked over to the other side of the table. He took aim, holding his long cock and pointing it directly at the glass. Dark yellow piss flowed from his cock straight into the mug, the height giving it a frothy coating.

I got home a minute later, he lead me to the living room. He was talking the whole time about some new brewery he'd found, local, fresh beer. He sat me down and passed me the mug, pulled out his phone and started recording, saying he wanted to capture my reaction.

It was warm, tons of head...super bitter. All in all, kind of disgusting was my initial thoughts. That's when he did it, he couldn't contain himself any more. He showed me the video, the whole time my head reeling, seeing him pissing in the glass I was currently drinking from. He sat me down and told me all the disgusting things he did to make me drinks his piss. By the end, I was sitting there dumbfounded, nothing to say...and the worst part is, I could feel my head swirling, am I getting second hand drunk off his whisky piss???