Desperate Measures

"Dude, I gotta go."

"Dude, I am going and there's not much I can do about it. You gots to wait."

I'm squirming outside the bathroom; squinty legs, hopping feet, the works. I knew I was going to have to burst in on my friend who was stuck on the loo evacuating his bowels - somewhat, it has to be said, against his wishes.

Of course, this was no accident. Several pints of liquid throughout the day for me; a mild laxative unknowingly mixed into his curry for him. Over time, we had watched pee porn together quite a lot and, perhaps oddly, always enjoyed the more intimate sharing of lesbian peeing videos as opposed to the generally abusive gay peeing stuff. But it had never gone farther than that and I was curious. I hoped he was too.

"Dude, I really gotta go. I'm coming in."

I opened the door purposefully and stepped over to the toilet.

"Spread your legs, I'll aim in-between." He obediently does so and he flashes a micro-smile at me. That's the confirmation I needed to go to the next step.

I unzip myself and then unbutton my trousers and pull my boxers and trousers down, letting them fall brazenly, exposing myself to him.

I take aim. I release and splash the seat a bit on startup but then manage to hit the gap between his legs; those wonderful hairless legs. Slowly, I move the stream closer to him, closer to his crotch, closer to that cock I enjoy so much. Suddenly my delivery jerks and hits him directly, splashing off him, going everywhere.

He shoots up. I take my hands off my cock but don't stop peeing. I glance down at the pee splashing off his thigh and step forward, pressing our bodies together. He doesn't withdraw. This is good.

I take his face in my hands and kiss him tenderly while continuing to pee, apparently, uncontrollably. I kiss his top lip, pulling it out slightly. I released and flick my tongue out, stroking the underside of his lip. I feel his tongue instinctively reach for mine.

I move my hands to the back of his head. I look at his mouth, his nose, his eyes. I feel the warm pee soaking through the bottom of our shirts. I feel it creating rivers and lakes between our bodies. I feel the primeval liquid making its way down my leg, caressing each individual hair as it goes; inviting every hair and every millimeter of skin it crosses to join the erotic party.

My manhood is burgeoning and wants to move. I feel his throb against me. Our bodies part momentarily and our organs grasp the opportunity to readjust. I'm now peeing upward slightly and as we press into each other once more, my cock finds itself a home pointing up and over a bit. The pee fights through our shirts and dribbles onto our legs.

I feel it puddle at the top of my sock, gradually soaking downwards.

I run my hands down his back to his bottom; my fingers trace his spine. I feel his soft flesh through his shirt, gently stroking the inward curve of the top of his buttocks with my thumbs. I let my fingers find the crease of the underside of his bum and indulgently follow the crease inward toward his crack. Through his shirt, I run the side of a finger up his crack, gently pushing his shirt into his dirt. As I pass his quivering hole, he almost ejaculates excrement. At the same time, his throbbing penis throws off all pretenses and, near instantly, becomes fully hard, fighting against the closeness of our bodies to look skyward.

The feeling of his expelling onto my hand, even through his shirt, is more intimate than I could have imagined. I feel so close to him; I've exposed myself in a way I've never done before. I could only do this with a complete stranger or with the guardian of my heart; my trust and passion balloons without limit.

I urgently press my lips to his, closing my eyes as I do so. He responds with a hug of intensity and warmth and a tongue of moist intimacy. There's a wonderful squish as our soaked clothing is pressed between us.

My hands are still on his crack and his cheek. I feel a spasm and my hand is almost pushed aside by what feels like a torrent of waste. It escapes him with noisy farts and smashes to the ground. I feel it splash my feet.

Both our mouths, still touching, morph into dirty smiles and our bodies part as we gaze into each other's eyes. His unfettered penis, now pointing uncompromisingly skyward, releases a fountain of golden wonder. It feels like slow motion as it rises into the air directly into my chest. My shirt was already clinging to me, embracing me through mild sweat. Now the tension of the shirt was released as it was soaked with a liquid more intimate than I could have anticipated.

I step backward, allowing his now slightly intermittent output to arc over in the air before splashing on to me. I slowly arch my back, instinctively throwing my head back, exposing my neck in erotic abandon. My pleasure is intense; I can't help but close my eyes again.

The stream falters. I feel him move closer once more. I don't need my eyes to know what he is doing. I feel his lips on my Adam's apple. I feel his hands on my sides caressing my soaked shirt. I feel his erect flesh dance with mine.

We are soaked. We are dripping. We smell.

"We are dirty bitches," I whisper, my voice almost broken through erotic stimulation.

"You might be." He stands up straight.

I bring my head forward and open my eyes. I experience a wave of relief when I see lust and fun in his eyes. Our cocks twitch in unison.

His next words? "Clean me."

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