Puddlecheckfr

23 hours ago, Puddlecheckfr said:

Pissed directly out of my bedroom window for about a minute straight tonight, only catch is the file is too big for this site and EroMe won’t let me upload for 24 hours. If I haven’t posted it by this time tomorrow, someone remind me 😜

I’m nothing if not a man of my word ❤️ hope it’s as good to watch for you all as it felt to create!

(This clip also brings proof after years of heated speculation that Puddle is in fact an extreme grower as opposed to a shower, a truly rare breed.)

Pissed directly out of my bedroom window for about a minute straight tonight, only catch is the file is too big for this site and EroMe won’t let me upload for 24 hours. If I haven’t posted it by this time tomorrow, someone remind me 😜

The rare Puddle cock reveal, mugshot vs. profile

(Topics for the story include risky pissing, public pissing, being watched, and mutual pissing. Male and female pissing are depicted.)
Sage, From Great Distance

#3: Escalation, Elevation

A week or so had passed since Sage caught me pissing, and while I can't act like I wasn't in constant fear of my life blowing up, I was finally starting to get the first feeling that maybe it was behind us. She wanted to scare me or tease me or something, but if she was gonna do anything, she would've done it already. Right? Well, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, don't go making stupid assumptions like that, cause they'll probably come to bite you in the ass. I should probably mention the rub before we get too far in, the embarrassing detail that I've been omitting. I had mentioned my inability to find any other viable job, and the big missing puzzle piece here is that the hotel was my home. After I flunked out of college, I didn't exactly have many places to go, and my family wouldn't let me return home out of principle, so Mr. Hearst took me in. All the way at the top, tucked away in the back corner of the 11th floor was a single person suite that had been my humble abode for about five years at that point. Full bathroom, little kitchenette, a bed, and a tv, good enough for me, and the cost of living was baked into my salary, so finding a new job would've also involved finding and paying for a new place to live.

I was half awake on this particular morning, groggily stumbling into the bathroom to do my morning business. The Shop opened at 7 sharp every morning, but part of Mr. Hearst's agreement with me living here is that I'd do all of my "commuting" outside of hotel check-in hours, meaning I had to get to The Shop at 5am, and couldn't go home until 11pm, every day. So not only did this afford me a mere five or so hours of sleep a night, it also meant I had to get all of my morning preparation done at like 4 in the morning, while it's still dark outside. I was rubbing my eyes, not even bothering to flip the bathroom light on as I let my bladder loose into the toilet. Any other time, I love my dirty secret way of pissing wherever I want, but something about that first morning pee is just so satisfying when splashing into the toilet, a noise that I didn't hear this morning.

"Well, good morning to you too." Sage remarked with some amusement, evidently sitting in front of me in pitch darkness.

"HOLY SHIT!" I shouted, jumping back but still pissing, now trembling a bit.

"Shhhhhhh!" she hushed me before speaking with a low voice that I hadn't heard yet, "At least you didn't stop this time."

"What is your problem?" I managed to ask after a stunned minute of silence, "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything." She said in a convincingly serious voice before letting out her first full blown laugh, which stung, "Have you stopped to think that maybe this is more about you than me? Why were you peeing in the garden? Why don't you turn the lights on in here when you go? Why haven't you said anything since I busted you?"

"I-I... I'm-" I found myself once again lost for words, a feeling that Sage would only continue to evoke from me.

"Pathetic, that's what you are." She interrupted, "I already told you that, and you have made no effort to prove otherwise."

"Did... Did you want me to prove otherwise?" I asked.

"When did I say that?" She retorted. 

With that, Sage stood up from the toilet and gently pushed me back, walking over to the entrance of the bathroom to flip the lights on. Instantly, I saw that her white dress shirt was ruined, with slight yellow stains the backdrop of a translucent window revealing her body underneath. I couldn't help but feel my eyes scan her up and down, noticing a wavy, ruffled pattern on her lavender bra below, as well as a diamond belly button piercing. I found myself blushing hard as I grew stiff in front of her once more, slightly more lenience in her reaction this time, though she was seemingly still either repulsed or disappointed by me.

"You really are into that, aren't you?" She asked with a great deal of curiosity.

"Yes." I admitted.

"You're lucky I am too." She whispered in a deadly serious tone, then turned to leave the bathroom and said, "Take care of that and then meet me back out here."

After doing as she told me, I emerged from the bathroom to find her sitting on the foot of my bed, somehow changed into an entirely new, dry outfit. Did she wear that white dress shirt just for me? Where was she keeping the second outfit? I couldn't believe that she was starting to infect my thoughts so much, but she was. At her gesture, I sat down beside her on the bed, prompting her to instantly stand up and head over to the kitchenette. I heard the minifridge briefly pop open, and before I knew it she was returning with a frosty glass bottle of mineral water that I definitely didn't have in there previously. How long had she been waiting in my room?

"Drink it. All." She instructed me, sitting back down.

"How did you even get in here?" I asked.

"Please don't start asking stupid questions now," she responded with a deep sigh, before continuing with, "just listen to me. I don't like that you can't do this without losing control, but you very easily could've tried to take things further than just getting hard in front of me, and you didn't. Twice now. I can work with that."

"Work with it how?" I followed up, the only thing I could think to ask while processing all of that.

"I guess the stupid questions can't be avoided." Sage shook her head, what little sentimentality was present in her previous statements now reverted back to her usual robotic self, "The outfit you ruined is on the floor of your closet, you'll take it to the laundry room and have it returned to me tonight. Now finish that water, it's time to go to work."

Figuring that it was best not to ask more questions that she would just ridicule as stupid, I continued to tip the bottle back, trying to finish it before I got another displeased remark from her. I've always struggled to take orders, so I have no idea why Sage's commands had so much power over me, but they did. I found myself working harder for her in these fleeting moments than I worked for my boss in ten years, harder than I ever worked in school. What was she doing? Taking the bottle away from me, she then led the way to the door, trying to speed up our departure as much as possible. It was an oddly peaceful and relaxing morning after finally getting a little piece of insight into her mind and her intentions, and I boarded the elevator down to the lobby feeling a renewed sense of understanding.

"So," Sage started as soon as the doors closed in front of us, pressing each floor button, "you're going to piss in here right now, or that video of you is going everywhere."

To Be Continued

(Author's Note: This entry starts by saying "here's the rub"

but then it ends with the actual rub, our first true glimpse

into the Sage rabbit hole. Sage is a character that I've been

developing for a while, while also trying to find the perfect

story to integrate her into, and just found that she would

dominate this plotline and this setting. There is still much

deeper to dig within the depths of her naughty darkness,

but this entry is the first where we truly get an idea of

what she's about. All of it really makes you wonder

how far she's willing to go, though...)

(Topics for the story include risky pissing, public pissing, being watched, and mutual pissing. Male and female pissing are depicted.)
Sage, From Great Distance

#2: Dealmaking

I could see my whole life flashing before my eyes, I could feel my heart pounding through my chest, how could I be so stupid? I let my dumb, horny desires overcome all logical thinking, and now I was caught with my dick in my hand... Literally. The previously roaring stream of piss died down to a slow trickle as my body froze over in horror, Sage's cold eyes repeatedly scanning me top to bottom then back again. It was only in this moment that I saw an angle of terror within her pretentious self-presentation, a frightening new perspective. I was no basketball player in terms of height, but even still, she was a tall woman, the tallest I had ever seen once I gave it some serious thought. Even without heels on, most people found themselves craning their necks up to meet her vampiric glare, which never met them with respect if at all. With paper-pale skin highlighting her veins and definition, she had curiously muscular arms and legs that I never had the nerve to ask about — not a bodybuilder, but clearly built beyond what just standard exercise will yield you.

Her hair was down on this night, lazily kempt bangs draping over her forehead to barely obscure the tops of her eyes. All of her movements flowed smoothly from underneath the pastel rose chemise she wore, a white dotted dress shirt with puffy, translucent sleeves underneath, all of which complimenting her curvaceous and busty figure. With nails painted a soft pearl color and spherical opal earrings staring back at me, fashion that I normally thought of as nothing more than just excessive for a hotel gift shop, suddenly felt like it was constricting me. I no longer felt like it was only her perceiving herself above me, I was starting to perceive it too, manifesting in all of those little ways. I felt all of this in icy, flashing moments after she told me she was going to interrogate me, only snapping back to reality when she spoke again, now standing directly beside me.

"So," Sage started, impatience evident in her tone, "first of all: why did you lie about where you were going?"

"I-I-I," I stammered fruitlessly, trying to think of a good answer.

"What did I just say?" She snapped to cut me off, "Don't lie. I'm not telling you again."

"I didn't think you would question me..." I admitted, face red and hung low after giving her my honest answer.

"Right." She said, no indication of intention, "Did you do this to disrespect the resort, or my grandfather, or me?"

"No!" I answered maybe a little too insistently before correcting myself, "No... I would never."

"So... This is just something you do?" She asked while unblinkingly staring down at me.

"..." I struggled to get anything out; my heart was racing so bad I thought I would pass out, when I finally admitted, "...Yes."

For the first time in my life, I saw Sage's expression change when I gave my answer. Her thin lips curved up into a dimpled grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. The part that freaked me out, however, was that I found zero comfort in this otherwise cute expression; like, if it was happening at any other time it would've been such a nice smile, but something about the way she did it in response to my shameful confession made me shiver. It didn't help that she kept that face held for quite some time, continuing through to when she reached her hand forward to delicately rest a fingertip on the underside of my flaccid cock head.

"Could you keep going if I did this?" She asked, raising then lowering her finger repeatedly to make my dick bob up and down.

I tried my best to keep pissing, but the combo of being watched so intently while she was handling it was too much for me, and before I knew it I was growing hard to her touch. As soon as my cock started truly getting stiff, she retracted her hand urgently like she had just touched a hot stove. When I shifted my eyes to hers, the grin had melted to disgust as she already turned around to walk back inside. Before popping the doors open, she looked back at me to speak one last time.

"You're pathetic." She said while shaking her head in disappointment, "You should work on that, cause I haven't decided on you yet."

"What do you mean?" I managed to ask, still feeling pinned to the tree.

"You'll find out." She responded with a teasing snicker, disappearing back into the hotel before I could question her any further.

And there I was. Pants around my ankles, caught on video pissing all over my place of work, dick hard with a few drops still dribbling out, frozen in fear against a tree, now being blackmailed by my violent boss' intimidating granddaughter. I was all on my own and needed the money, it was my only way to sustain myself in my circumstances; believe me, I looked at every other possibility. So, I was now at Sage's cruel mercy, unable to do anything but play her psychotic games. I thought from this first encounter that I understood what I was getting into, but I had no idea, not even close. Sage was just getting started with me.

To Be Continued

(Topics for the story include risky pissing, public pissing, being watched, and mutual pissing. Male and female pissing are depicted.)
Sage, From Great Distance

#1: First Contact

Studies show that more than half of the population doesn't like pineapple on their pizza; to about a quarter of people, it's the grossest possible topping. I mean, in its purest form, pineapple is a tropical fruit after all, so what place does it have being cooked and served with cheese and tomato sauce? People who love it often times conceal it because it's not worth the teasing they'll receive, they keep it inside and only enjoy it in private. Oh, the things people will say about you when they don't realize they're talking about you. It should be pretty clear by now that I'm not talking about any kind of pizza, I'm talking about my love for filling my bladder and emptying it, and my love for others doing the same. 

To most people, taking a pee is just an annoying detour in their daily routine, but it's the highlight of mine. To feel the woosh of it in my palm like I'm holding a garden hose, to hear it spraying down in front of me with complete control of my stream. It feels good, it sounds good, it is good. It's actually a frequent occurrence that I drink as much as I can, hold it until I'm physically unable to anymore, and then let it go wherever I am. And I mean wherever. The kitchen floor, my car, the jogging trail, wherever I happen to be. What the thought of tits and ass does for most guys, that is how I feel about this whole subject. Except... You can chat with your buddies about a pair of big tits or a nice ass, but how the fuck are you supposed to tell them that you're rock hard from holding your piss in?

When I started working at the shop, I was under the impression that it would just be a Summer job to net my 15 year old self some pocket cash. Ten years, two-and-a-half promotions, and an abandoned business major attempt later, and there I was still. I know "the shop" makes it sound like I was fixing up cars or something, but it's literally The Shop, that was its name and also the depth of the business. Tucked away in the back of the lobby floor of a gimmicky resort and casino sat The Shop, which was nothing more than a souvenir store when I started all those years ago, but essentially evolved into a mini mart for people who are too drunk and / or fixated on gambling to leave the hotel. Back in the gift shop days, it was a one-man-at-a-time operation, but we expanded to two after the influx of drunk visitors trying to smash bottles or steal cookies. There was even one time where an especially plastered guest wandered into the store, having mistaken it for the bathroom next door, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't observe the situation a little longer than I needed to before calling security to escort her out.

That second employee I mentioned was Sage, who I was forced into hiring. Despite being the manager, my authority was in title only, because The Shop was owned by the same person who owned the resort itself and everything inside: Mr. Hearst. At first, he may have struck you as the typical grandpa type of old man who's always cracking jokes and telling stories, but in a split second he could turn deadly serious; his eyebrows got all angled, his eyes went dark, he'd start aggressively questioning you. Sometimes more. To give an example, the one time he ever took issue with me was when I suggested that we stop selling lava lamps because they take up a lot of shelf space and never get bought... He responded by repeatedly asking if I thought I was smart, and then before I could even register that his hand was moving, he had already punched me in the gut so hard that I passed out in front of a store full of customers. Not necessarily someone who I intend on displeasing ever again, and Sage is his only granddaughter, so she didn't interview so much as she was just suddenly here one day.

I had encountered her a few times prior during the decade leading up to this, and every single time she was just completely rude, dismissive, and disinterested towards everyone and everything. Even after working every day with me for six months, she was still a complete mystery. On the rare occasions that I got more than two words at a time out of her, I learned that this was just her time-killer while she took private law courses. She went crying to Mr. Hearst after all of her applications for more desirable jobs were met with crickets, and then suddenly she was second in command at The Shop. I feel bad to say I hated her, but I really did. She had those same piercing dark eyes that her grandfather got when he was angry, except all the time, somehow more frightening when paired with an outright lack of expression. She would just glare like a robot, like nothing was on her level; I had never seen her smile or frown. She wore these needlessly frilly and excessive dressy outfits, like what you'd see an elitist librarian wear, except with the tendency to show off jewelry that makes you wonder why she even wants to work in the first place. I think the part that I came to hate the most, though, was that she completely killed my pissing fun.

When it was just me in The Shop, I could relieve my pent up desperation wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. It was too small and inconsequential compared to the rest of the resort for Mr. Hearst to have installed any security cameras in there, so as long as I cleaned my messes up, it was my naughty secret. But now that I was sharing a space smaller than a dorm room with a direct connection to the guy who employs me and also would hospitalize me in a heartbeat, I was kind of fucked. I know it sounds a little dramatic, but I needed this release, I had spoiled myself to pissing in dirty places, spoiled myself to being bad. Sure at home I was free to let loose anywhere, but I was spending most of my time at work, and suddenly I was forced to relieve myself the boring way. All because of someone who didn't even want to be here, someone who was gifted the position. Well, after half a year I decided that I couldn't take it anymore, so I thought my plan out once and for all:

Down the hall from the store's entrance was a doorway for hotel employees only, leading to an area with lockers for people to keep their personal belongings, as well a private exit to the staff parking lot. Most importantly, however, was the employee rest area, designed both for smoke breaks but also for employees to grab a breath of fresh air, ironically. A little courtyard with a couple of trees and a flower garden, walled in on all sides by the rest of the resort. In other words, that employee area was the only way to access or view it, a private patch of wilderness just for us. In all my time here I'd never seen anyone go out there at all, and I almost always ate my lunch in the garden, so I was feeling pretty certain. Shortly after sundown on an especially slow Wednesday, I told Sage that I was going for a bathroom break, with a devious satisfaction in my knowledge of the fact that I technically wasn't lying.

I had a smirk and a warm glow on my face as I walked defiantly past the bathroom stationed next to The Shop, instead emerging through the restricted doors to the abandoned area. After doing a quick scan to make sure that nobody was lurking by the lockers or having a smoke, I stepped out into the crisp chill of the purple evening sky to probe the area. Water the garden? Hose down a tree? Spray a perimeter around the walls? There were so many options, and the liter of water I'd guzzled since returning from lunch that afternoon was making each one equally tempting. After a minute of considering all the possibilities, I landed on the idea of leaning back against one tree and attempting to shoot my piss all the way to the other one. By that point, I could feel my bladder bulging out and couldn't stop tapping my foot, so I dropped my pants and made short work of unloading myself, sighing in immense relief as a hot stream of crystal clear bliss came jetting out. With fingers gripping the tip of my cock to adjust the direction, I tensed myself up, causing my pee to blast even further forward, a satisfying splatter sound accompanying it finally reaching the bark of the tree across from me. 

"Fuck..." I moaned under my breath, a fusion of comfort and arousal.

"Having fun?" A voice cut through from behind me.

I snapped my head around in an instant cold sweat. Sage. Phone pointed at me with the recording light blinking. Arms crossed in the doorway. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would form aside from hushed stuttering. My legs were buckling, on the verge of collapsing under the shockwaves of my racing heartbeat. I was fucked. Shortly after making contact with her intense eyes, she returned the phone to her pocket, stepping forward, her poker face unwavering all the while.

"Here's the deal." Sage proclaimed with an eerie matter-of-fact confidence, a rare deviation to her usual unfeeling tone, "I'm going to ask you some questions. If I don't like your answers or I feel like you're lying to me, that video is going out to everyone, starting with my grandpa."

To Be Continued

(Author's Note: I'm so excited to share this story

with you all, I have some really awesome things

planned that I think you will love! Apologies

for this 1st chapter being mostly setup, I promise

that the story as a whole is gonna be a relentless

rollercoaster of naughty pissing fun, there's just some

stuff to set up now so that it can pay off later! Please

leave feedback, I love hearing thoughts, speculation,

questions, critiques, everything! Thanks for reading,

stay tuned to this thread for the next entry!)

I have had two exceptionally loud partners and both were just absolutely amazing to listen to. One of them was the standard loudness of intense hissing, but the other one, god, she had this magical, waterfall sounding spray that was intoxicating and so arousing to me. Like, you'd think the sink or the shower was running; such a unique, booming noise that never failed to make me throb. I actually just shared a story about this partner last night in the real encounter section, so the allure of her spray is still very fresh on my mind.

Hey!

I was just recently introduced to this site and thought it could be a great outlet for me. I am a writer at heart, I love abstracting all of my feelings and experiences into prose, and more relevant to this topic, I've found a lot of personal enjoyment in sharing my sexual stories in the form of erotica. While I have places and people that I share those recollections with, I've always found myself omitting the piss-related ones just because it's such a niche interest that categorically scares a lot of people away. So, as you may imagine, I was quite excited when I found this section of the forum, and as the title suggests, decided it was finally the place to document... My Piss Chronicles.

Now, I'm a very sexual character, it's in my nature. I am a respectful, attentive, passionate, pleasure-oriented person who loves to charm and flirt; combined with the long, curvy secret in my pants, I've been gifted lots of amazing sexy experiences with lots of amazing sexy people that I am forever grateful for. Now, as much as I love humble-bragging anonymously on niche kink forums, this fact does find relevance in our story here today. A lot of people have to hope that they find partners who share their kinks, but I was blessed with the ability to open people's minds. While I have many taboo kinks and fantasies, one of the foremost has always been piss for as long as I can remember, and I have taken many of my partners from a place of disinterest to a place of kinky bliss. This leaves me with many directions I could start with, but I think the best tone-setter for this collection of experiences would be that of the soft Catholic girl who ended up with a wide-open smile in the midst of a relentless golden shower.

While I had participated in some kink play before, this was my first romantic partner that I ever shared my piss interest with, and as luck would have it, she was the first one to give it a try too. Frosty blue eyes, hip-length golden brown hair, angular and curvaceous, smooth snowy skin, and an aura of powerful, professional poise. If your head didn't turn while reading that, it certainly would while she passed you by. Except for me! Not because I was disinterested, but because I was looking down at an email on my phone and bumped right into her, knocking her over. It was in the hand offered to help her up where I met that wintery gaze and instantly became enraptured (and apologetic too, I felt like a total asshole for bumping her over). The connection was instant and electric, as a couple of friendly hangouts quickly spiraled into a very intense emotional and physical connection. The only hang up, she was super duper Catholic. I don't mean "goes to church every Sunday" super duper Catholic, I'm talking "direct family member is a high-ranking clergy member" super duper Catholic.

Now, I should add to this that while I am not a religious person, I don't take issue with those who are. I just bring up this aspect to say that as a young, smooth-talking, atheistic person, I am kind of like a vampire to those circles, I had never gotten so personally close with one just because my lack of religious values tends to put them off. But, underneath a veil of sheltered innocence, she was looking for more. She knew what I was, she pursued me after I helped her up, she made first contact. She had done classic shy Catholic hand stuff with some guys before, but had never even been naked with someone else, and here she ended up. While I gave her plenty of more exciting experiences than a half-assed rubbing through the jeans, this site isn't about that. Funnily enough, I never even dreamed of bringing the subject of piss up to her. At least, not initially...

It was sweltering hot in the thick of July when we were participating in an all-day outdoor event (short sidenote here: I really do not love giving identifying factors. When I'm not a caveman-brained sex goblin, I do some pretty specific stuff in some pretty specific areas, so you'll have to fill in some of the less sexy blanks yourself across these chronicles), moving from place to place on foot with no cover from the scorching sun. Our only defenses were our giant insulated water bottles, which we kept filling with freezing water and emptying all throughout the miserable day. Finally, exhausted, we got back to my house to crash and relax, where we weren't even five minutes into an episode of Arrested Development when she got up and proclaimed that she was about to explode. It was her favorite show whereas it was my first time watching, so she insisted I keep it playing while she ran off to the bathroom.

TV volume up, bedroom door closed, all the way down the hall into the bathroom, which also had a closed door. This is how far and through how much filtering she was from me, and yet you could've believed there was a fucking waterfall right next to me. The show was by no means at low volume, yet suddenly I couldn't even hear the softer delivered lines underneath the intensity of the fire hydrant that was evidently cracked open in my home. It was genuinely so jarring that I had to step out into the hallway to make sure that my suspicion was right, and some confirmation it was as I approached the bathroom door. The distinct ring of spraying in the toilet bowl splashing down into the water would've been enough, but through it I could hear her soft little moans and sighs of relief, and suddenly I was throbbing in my underwear.

Time tends to have that Matrix slow-mo effect for me when I find myself in a sexy situation, and I didn't have a stopwatch on me, so who knows how long it really went on for, but I swear she was draining herself for two minutes straight, letting out those whimpery noises of relief all the while. Towards the end, the noises got a little bit louder as the final spurts sprayed out in sporadic little blasts, which to me is one of the hottest parts of the piss experience. I wish I could say that I was able to play it off like a master, but I have a very prominent bulge, and the humor of Darren Cross sadly does not make it flare up, so she immediately questioned me when she returned, whereupon I had the structural integrity of a pancake. I confessed to her that it was her pissing that turned me on. While she may have teased about needing to mega-hydrate more often, before solving my predicament with lips still smirking from her joke, it was pretty clear that she was weirded out, or at least didn't understand it.

I was perfectly fine to leave it at that, I really was! I would never impose my interests on someone who did not want them, I don't find that very attractive or particularly consensual for my own liking. So that was that. Or, I would've thought so. Shortly after this, she'd begin announcing when she was going to pee, something that she had never done prior; while my spider senses were tingling, I also suffer from major confirmation bias habits, so that wasn't necessarily enough to ping my radar. But once it escalated to her texting me and telling me how good it felt, how relieving it was, or how much she needed to go, nearly every time she went, then I finally had to bring it up. Was she messing with me? Was she just trying to cater to my interests? The answer, according to her, is that she just couldn't stop thinking about it. My reading of the tone was correct, she was very offput that first night because she had no forewarning and it was quite out of left field for her after what was already a very physically and mentally exhausting day. But the more time it sat with her, the more time she wanted to understand it; it was something she had never even heard of before. When I tried to probe further into her curiosity, she shut down and did not want to talk about the subject anymore, so I backed off.

It was an innocent enough afternoon spent relaxing and playing Mario Kart when she asked me to come with her, the tone in her voice successfully deceiving me. I thought she might have needed my help with something, or wanted to show me something she found earlier and forgot about, but she led me by the hand into the bathroom, where she dropped her shorts and panties to her ankles in one fell swoop. I will never forget the look she gave me in this moment; the reddest face I've ever seen in my life, powerful eyes afraid to meet mine for the first time, knees involuntarily bouncing back and forth from a full bladder. That gaze-averting inverse staring contest dragged on for a hot moment before she finally got comfortable enough to start, the first trickle enough to get me raging hard in an instant. Stepping forward, I put my left hand on her bouncing right thigh, while the right hand gripped her chin to pull her in for a kiss. It may not be a Cinderella-esque vision to most, but kissing a beautiful woman while she's pissing ranks in among the most intimate and special things to me, I absolutely love the feeling of it like nothing else and seek to do it as much as I can as often as I can in my life. 

She didn't say anything in that moment or immediately after, and she didn't need to, I could see in her eyes that she also felt what I just did. Still, I find the verbal confirmation sexy, and that came when she asked if I needed to go too, in a low, hushed tone that I had only ever heard before while whispering obscenities from deep inside of her. As luck would have it, I did have to go, and made no hesitation dropping my own pants. She left her own at her ankles as she stood up to lend the toilet to me, her eyes laser focused on my cock as I now found myself the one burning up and hesitant. It was only a couple of seconds into my own stream that she stuck her hand down in front of it, moving her fingers through it before softly grasping them around my tip, sliding up the whole soft length with a swirl, cause my piss to spray into her palm and back onto me. There was a certain tone in the way she said "It's so warm" that sticks out to me even today; a tone that wasn't trying to be sexy or turn me on, it was a real observation, she said it with such fascination and an underlying tone of arousal... I couldn't stop myself from growing in her hand until eventually she was stroking me with both of them, the wet sounds of my cock lubed by my own piss only topped in hotness by gushing several thick ropes of cum down into the fusion of our collective relief.

This kind of back and forth play became a fairly recurring, unaddressed dynamic in our relationship, and it was fucking awesome. To get back from an evening on the town, or pause a movie, or get up in the middle of the night and just both know what's about to go down for what is just a boring bodily function to 99% of people. To know and to experience each other in such a dirty way. But things can't go unaddressed forever, everything comes out eventually. Or, as you're probably thinking: "Where the fuck is the golden shower already?" Same thing. Either way, after a nice little while of this routine, she finally asked the questions that had been building in her. I'll skip most of the questioning, as the majority of it could be easily gathered by a glance at my profile, if not just the general fact that I'm on this website and writing this thread right now. The relevant questioning here came when she asked if I was fine with the part where I spray it on her hands. Of course I was, I was more than fine with it. "Well... Would you want to do it anywhere else on me?" Of course I would. I told her all of the places I wanted to. On her busty chest down to her stomach, from her thighs to her feet, on her round little ass, all over her soft pink pussy, and of course I wanted my piss drenching her beautiful face, to soak her flowing hair. I wanted it in her mouth. I wanted it in her thoughts. Simply put, I wanted to spray her down completely.

I know the grand climax here is sort of spoiled by the start of the story where I mentioned a very eager goldens shower, but it couldn't come full circle any other way. She was sheltered, she was shy, she never presented herself to the public as anything other than a completely composed and serious person, and yet here she was kneeling in front of me in the shower. I am a lover of the human body, I am so sensual and passionate, I find beauty everywhere and could gush forever about the infinite beauty I find in every pose of every body part of every partner I've enjoyed, and I was so struck by this feeling. The idea of pissing on someone is hot, but to piss on someone who I find so special, so beautiful, so unique, it was without proper words to describe it. To see her in her most natural form, gazing up at me with eyes like shimmering gemstones, a smile on her face that couldn't be faked... That was my "It's so warm" moment, my brief moment of unfiltered fascination and lust before unleashing a lifetime on unfulfilled desire. As she modeled and danced for me in an ever spreading puddle of my piss, a full mouth and dripping head to toe, I came to a realization.

I'm a very sexual character, that's how this whole story began. I'm ashamed to say that early on in my sexual career, I was so thrilled by the ability and the possibilities that I found myself getting into situations just for the stimulation, pairing with partners just because I could and not because I felt anything. That's why this story is special to me, and why I see it as the proper start to my adventures. My realization in that incredibly sexy moment was that nothing compares to exploring this part of myself with someone who I'm truly attracted to. I don't find people attractive very often, my mind is just picky and yearns for a specific fusion of personal, intellectual, and physical attraction that I have rarely ever found. I think I could probably have sex with anyone, but to find someone attractive is very special and rare to me. Why would I go through the sexual motions with people I'm obligating myself to when I could plumb my deepest fantasies with people I feel a magnetic pull towards? From that moment, I never again have done anything sexual with someone I didn't have that primal attraction to. It may give me way less potential options, but quality blows quantity out of the water.

Thinking back to the moments in this story fill me with such a deep lust, I hope they've done something for you, or at least have kept you entertained. Either way, this is only the beginning of My Piss Chronicles, so stay tuned for more! Like I said, I have many wonderful experiences to share which I'll be documenting in this thread, I just felt this one to be the most appropriate introduction. I'll add onto this thread as more recollections fondly come to me, feel free to leave any questions, comments, or concerns and I'll address 'em, I love feedback!