Content Note: All about piss play!

Let me sail, let me sail, let me crash upon your shore

Let me reach, let me beach far beyond the Yellow Sea

Words from Orinoco Flow by Enya

The desire is lodged in my chest, a sudden onslaught of need is physically gripping me, I can barely catch my breath and the ache for you is unbearable as I consider you in a way I have never done before. One story was all it took, a story where warm piss fell upon soft skin and my mind raced to thoughts of you, my heart pounding, my want rising, as my debauched little mind begged me to ask this of you. 

I imagine myself kneeling in your shower, eyes wide, chest heaving as you stand in front of me. Always eager, ever curious, but hesitant all the same because it’s not every day a girl asks you to piss on her after you’ve fucked her. 

I always feel so alive post-fuck, so perfectly me and in those moments more so than any other time I am so passionate how wonderful it is to be a freaky pervert. What better time to indulge in something that shines a light on how deep those perversions run?

My mind is building on my desire, I’m covered in your spunk, I watched closely, my eyes captivated as you came all over my tits. As you cock softens your resolve hardens and you decide it’s now or never. Your hand curls into my hair, you fist against my scalp as you drag me up and off the bed. 

I can feel your apprehension lingering in the air, but as your words dictate I get into the shower, on my knees, eyes closed, hands on my head, I can sense other things too; excitement, power, desire, all coursing through your veins, causing the adrenaline to rise within you and I feel like this moment could be your becoming. 

My vibrator is on my cunt as my imagination roars and my mouth begs to feel your warmth trickling over my aching, desperate, dirty flesh and I cum so fucking hard as I imagine your piss splashing across my chest washing away every last ounce of propriety I have.

I am in awe that you have reduced me to this, even if only in my mind and I am consumed by a yearning so fierce I know that this is just the beginning. 

Inspiration is a funny thing, I didn’t think I had any fictional writing in me this week. No reason, just the ebb and flow of creativity and then I read A Story About Huw by Kate Lessons and I was thinking about streams of piss, as one does, and suddenly a line from a much-loved song from my childhood years came to mind and bam! Dirty words were occurring!