And totally unrelated (though coincidentally not, RIP R Kelly’s career) K asked me to piss on him on his mother-fucking birthday. Birthday is pretty much that one day when veto power is void, and you’ve just gotta oblige your lover. Annnnd I’m up for trying new things. And we have a bathtub. And I really had to pee, or so I thought…
Pretty much the hardest part about pissing on someone is the eye-contact. I can’t regularly pee too well if I’m making eye-contact with someone in general. Sometimes it’s hard for me to even get going in a crowded public bathroom. Or at a party when it’s a really small echoey bathroom and you know everyone can hear you pee… Now imagine that you are balanced one your tip-toes, straddled, each foot placed upon one side of your mini-tub (euro-sized cause we’re in europe) thigh muscles heating up, boyfriend crammed in underneath you, looking up at your face expectantly awaiting said piss upon his chest. Not too easy. And I mean it was a little after midnight, I’d just woken up, I really really had to pee. It was there. I needed to go, urgently, just moments before. I could feel my bladder begging to be emptied. So why Why WHY would the piss just not come? Why gun-shy? Why??
(Had to take a bathroom break while writing this, just the memory made me need to pee just to prove to myself that I could…)
So here we are. I slowly lower my pussy down towards his chest. He’s looking up at me, expectantly. And I just caaaaaaaan’t. So I cover his face with my hand. Still nothing. Then I reach over and turn on the sink faucet. Ok. Deep breath. Annnnnnnnnnnnd: PEEEEEEEEEE!
Finally. I really had intended upon pissing a good five, ten minutes before this. I really had to go. I started getting a good stream going. I moved my hand off his face. I aimed and filled up his belly-button. I aimed and made a waterfall cascading down his happy trail and into his bellybutton. I pissed on my boyfriend’s chest. It felt good.
Happy Fucking birthday Baby!
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