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Toilet training is insidious. I'm pissing in the bathroom when I realize my stream is hitting the upper inside of the toilet bowl, not making a mess at all, but not making any noise either. So I consciously move it to the center of the bowl. And when my piss starts splashing into the water in the toilet, the pleasure of just the sound of it was a deeply felt experience, a child-like joy at receiving praise and approval.*Even as a middle aged adult, I recognize the pleasure of the sound of my piss hitting the water in the toilet as a Pavlovian response that rings a bell originally struck years and years ago in my childhood.*

Perhaps this is why men like piss play. The sheer freedom of putting your piss somewhere besides the toilet or urinal. Down someone's chest and balls and legs, down someone's throat. Let's not even get started talking about the pleasures and freedoms of being on the bottom. So when people complain about putting the toilet seat down or our inner voice complains about not hitting the water, we'll rightly respond, "Stop trying to toilet train me," and piss on them or our boyfriend, "I'll do what I want with it."*

I aim my stream back at the side of the toilet bowl, and enjoy the relative quiet. Maybe next time I won't aim at all.*

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