First Time WS
I never thought I would be into WS. But 20 years ago I was hooking up on the m4m chatrooms. Young and just out of my first relationship, I was determined to have some fun. And I had finally figured out I wasn’t exactly vanilla, starting with my love for outside sex, which shouldn’t have been a surprise given from the age of three I’ve loved getting naked outdoors.
I’d mainly fooled around with guys in their 20s and 30s until I hooked up with this nice guy in his late 40s. He was so kind when I admitted I didn’t really like to top, and explained to me I was a bottom. For someone known for a dirty mind, I’ve always had a naive side. After him, I started adding older guys to my mix of hook-ups because they had a lot of experience and didn’t mind showing a novice new tricks.
So one day found me chatting online with a guy who sounded fun. He was older, not a muscle daddy but not bad looking. He said he liked to play for a while, no 10-minute fuck and go. He said he could get into outside play on his condo’s back deck if I would go for some WS. I had never tried it nor wanted to try it. But, if you cater to my kink, I’ll cater to yours. “Sure,” I said, if you don’t mind a first-timer.
We decided to meet up the next morning and discussed a few details. He surprised me by asking if I minded coffee piss and if I would drink lots of coffee before coming to his house. He was really into the taste of coffee piss.
Being inexperienced, I had assumed we were just going to piss together and on each other, like some little boys do before they are taught it’s wrong. Now I was being asked to drink?
Outside play won out. I could bail if I didn’t like piss. As to the taste, once I was willing to try WS, I wasn’t going to hesitate over a lesser point. Could the taste really be a big deal? He told me to come over the next morning.
It was a hot summer day, already in the 80s when I arrived about 10 o’clock in my usual tricking uniform, thin gym shorts and T-shirt, plus, of course, a fresh bottle of poppers. I was also full of coffee and had to piss really bad.
He had told me how to get to his back deck. When I got there, I saw it was within view of at least two other condo units. I knocked on his sliding glass door. Dressed in just a thin robe, he let me in. We exchanged names and promptly forgot. “Why don’t we have another cup of coffee?” he suggested. I hoped the fun would justify how my bladder was hurting.
He admitted he had never played on his back deck in daytime, just pissing on himself now and then after dark.
“Are your neighbors home?” I asked. I was ready and wanted to get into what we had discussed. Plus I really had to piss. I felt like a little kid whose father won’t stop on a road trip.
“Let’s go outside and see,” he said, adding the lady with a direct view of his deck was usually home but rarely went outside.
The coast was clear, although I noticed the flower pots on the lady’s deck looked like they were tended daily. But I like the thrill that someone might see. To break the ice, he suggested we wet each other down with the water hose first. I quickly dropped my shorts and pulled off my T-shirt as he did the same.
He grabbed the hose and let the water run over my chest, then my back and down my butt. I did the same to him. I was already getting excited.
“I’ve got a bladder full of good coffee piss. Why don’t you get on your knees and drink some?” I had thought we would start with pissing on each other first, but of course I knelt down and took his cock in my mouth, savouring the sweet taste of his head and wrapping my arms around his hips.
I started rolling my tongue around the head of his cock. I felt a little trickle of piss and let more of his cock in my mouth. I had swallowed plenty of cum and it didn’t seem that different—at first. Then he moved his cock in further as the trickle turned into what suddenly felt like a jet stream.
As the piss flowed like a torrent, yes, I could taste the coffee in it. I wasn’t sure what to do so I swallowed as long as I could until I couldn’t keep up with the amount of piss he was feeding me. (I would like to think I could easily swallow it all now.) He was at that point where you just can’t stop. It kept coming and started to fill my mouth until I nearly choked, both on the piss and the strong taste, and had it all over my face. The painfully full sensation in my bladder added to the choking effect.
He took his cock out of my mouth and said, “Stay down there and let me piss on you.”
I grabbed the bottle of poppers and offered him some. He took a couple of strong hits, and I did the same. Oh my God, it’s hard to describe the feeling of being pissed on for the first time, and then it being outside. It felt so liberating and nasty at the same time, and my cock was hard.
Finally his stream died down and then became a trickle again like at first. “Let’s switch places,” he said.
Finally. My bladder was fucking killing me. I stood up and he knelt down and took my cock in his mouth. His eyes told me he was so looking forward to a good drink. But with my cock hard, I couldn’t piss. The more I tried, the more I couldn’t.
The man was so patient. I was mortified and with my bladder was killing me so much, I was about to bail. Then a few dribbles came. Rather than it starting a stream, I seemingly dried up, his hungry thirsty eyes turning into disappointment.
He released my cock. “Are you nervous? Would you rather come back another time?”
“No, let’s try again, please.” I was loving the scenario.
He took my cock in his mouth again and I tried. It just wasn’t happening. Then I remembered an old trick from a sailing trip I had taken with a bunch of straight guys. Both of us had trouble pissing off the boat in front of the others. I was desperate, and something was wrong with the boat’s toilet. As a last-ditch effort, I closed my eyes and imagined the tall urinal in the overheated bathroom I always used in high school at the same time every day. It worked that time. Would it work now?
My host did a hit of poppers and handed to me. I did three good hits. Oh my God, the pounding of my heart as the sun started beating down on us made me feel primal. I kept my senses enough to imagine that high school urinal. It took maybe 10 seconds, but the dribble started again. My host was a pro and when I let loose a fast current of piss, he took it all down. The combination of heat and poppers had me lightheaded, but the piss continued. At one point he looked up at me as if to say, “Aren’t you finished?” The stream kept going at full force. Finally, I was able to get it to stop and pulled out.
“You sure make up for a slow start,” he said.
I hit the poppers again and then, while he was still kneeling, pissed all over his head, his face and his chest. It was so fucking hot, yet also natural, just pissing on someone outside in the sun, spinning a little from poppers.
As soon as I finished, he stood up and we both started pissing on each other, almost as if our cocks were waterguns in battle.
When our bladders drained and we stopped, mine felt full again.
“Want to kneel down again?” I asked. I was turned on by the idea of pissing on his shaved head. I not only pissed all over the top but then aimed for his face, his mouth opening to drink a good bit, before I drenched his chest again.
Coming to another stop, we swapped the poppers and I knelt down. First, he pissed all over my hair until it looked like I had just had a real shower. Next, he had me take his cock in my mouth for another feeding. That coffee piss was still strong but I drank it all that time. “Good boy,” he said.
We exchanged piss one more time before we felt drained enough to rest a minute. He grabbed the hose and hosed me off, and I did the same for him. Not that I was ready to stop. I was loving every minute of being outside and went down on his cock, hungrily working his shaft while playing with his balls. He was getting close and then withdrew his cock.
“Let me suck yours a while,” he said. I got up, took some hits of the poppers, and wow, I was really getting into being sucked on his condo deck in the middle of the day. He knew what he was doing and it wasn’t long before I blew a load down this throat.
I said, “Let me finish you off,” but he assured me he had what he wanted. (These days, I’m of the same mind, being the bottom slut who gets off more by not cumming.)
I put on my shorts and T-shirt, kissed him “thank you” and dared him to hose off his deck naked rather than putting on his robe.
Even though we had rinsed off, I still smelled of piss aplenty, the first but not last time of getting into the car and suddenly thinking I hadn’t thought about driving home covered in piss.
I’ve come a long way since then. I still love piss outside, but also let guys piss up my ass and everything else that WS pigs do when the timing is right.