Less than a week after we had hung Jacob from his ankles and repeated used him, I was off to the monthly piss party in Chicago. According to my notes—I didn’t fuck as much and I drank a lot of piss. I mean, A LOT. I was tanking up for later that night…but that’s a story for the next entry.
Here are three moments of an eventful (and very wet) gathering.
It’s dark in the back corner. I stop feeding the piss I made on the road down the throat of an old reliable. I go and am refilling my water bottle when I notice them come in. It is the couple I met at my first piss party, years and years ago. (The older top had sized me up, literally hefting my hard cock which was jutting out from my damp jock. He pointed out his slightly younger boy who was bent over in the middle of the room, taking raw dick in both his holes, only stopping to pull off the cock and open his mouth wider, when a third man pissed all over his face. “You can do anything you like with him,” he told me.)
I smile. And wait for them to check their bags with the cute clothes check otter. I wave at the top who goes over to piss on a groveling pig in the wading pool. He gives me a thumbs up from across the room. The good looking boy grabs a beer and takes a healthy swig on his way to me. We embrace. It’s the only time this man will be dry during the next four hours.
“Suck my dick.”
“Yes, Sir!” He gets down on his knees, leaving his beer on the back bench.
I always forget how good this man is with his mouth. I love good head, but it’s rarely going to get me off. I am now letting a man blow me who could certainly get me there if I let him. The suction, the tongue action, the pressure—all are perfect. Another man about our age comes over. Without asking he just unloads a hot flow of piss all over my cock.
The boy groans and his dick, which never gets fully hard, flickers to life for a moment. He guzzles the piss noisily until it peters out, then he goes back to sucking me. His mouth is now so much hotter. Literally, after the cold beer.
I pull out and pinch his cheeks until he ovals his mouth. I spit. It lands on his tongue and sends a shiver of appreciation through his entire body. I shove my cock back in him. I take charge now. I hold his ears and fuck his face. He whimpers quietly—making me even harder if that’s possible.
I finally have to stop, dammit. We are only 40 minutes into the party. I pause and cool down by ordering him to lick my balls. A man approaches from behind the boy groveling in front of me, licking my hairy sack. I nod at the man giving me a questioning look. Piss erupts from his cock. It covers the boy’s head. It runs down his back. It forms a pale yellow trail down the crack of his ass.
The piss subsides. “Stand up and bend over.”
He grabs the bench where his beer sits, untouched, thrusting his ass at me. I kneel and lick the stranger’s piss out of his ass crack. I spit on his slightly open pucker. It’s early. I rarely fuck in the first moments of the party, but I know I’m going to stick my dick in him. I push in, slowly, until my damp pubic hair is grinding against his piss wet ass….
“Have you met him?”
The grey haired pig standing in front of me, waves his beer in the direction of a very furry cub standing at the bar.
I tell him I haven’t.
“He comes from somewhere in Michigan. He looks thirsty. You should go say hello.”
I smirk, fill my water bottle and go to introduce myself.
He is about half my age. He is also shorter by about a head. He is extremely furry, carrying a shade more weight than he likely wishes he did. But he wears it well—and it just gives him more area for fur. He has a beautifully shaped beard. I learn he lives in a bigger city, about an hour from my home. We exchange names—and the fact that we barely know anyone who does watersports in Michigan. Well, our type of watersports…
We’ve talked enough. I need to piss. I aim it at the pouch of his jock. He groans as I empty about half of my bladder on him. His cock is hardening from the soaking. I kneel and begin sucking the fabric dry. Soon, I’m sucking his smallish dick. He gets rock hard in my mouth.
“Let me try that monster.”
I stand. He kneels. I let him slobber over my dick. He’s good. I think about giving him the rest of my piss. But I hold off. I wait for his knees to tire and for him to get back up. He turns his back to reach for his forgotten drink. I let fly all over his ass. He groans out the word “Fucker.” He is so hairy it clings to him. Every drop it seems. Barely any hits the floor. But my knees do. I bury my face into the furry jungle of his ass. Now he really groans and tells me to “Eat out my furry asscunt.”
I do. Savoring every drop.
I am standing in the middle of the room. The party is beginning to dwindle down. The Coat Check Otter has emerged from behind the counter. Totally naked. And hard.
I suck his dick for a moment. But he pulls me off him and drops to his knees in return. He takes me to the root and deliberately looks up at me, with that cute face crammed with my engorged dick. My dick head swells deep inside him—and spits out a gob of precum. His tongue works my slit until there is no trace of it.
He pulls off my cock, looking right at me still. “Fuck me.”
He all but pushes me backwards to one of the high benches. I lean against it. This puts my cock at the perfect angle to enter his ass. He spits on my dick one last time and impales himself on me. He barely stops to adjust to the size. He’s on a mission: to get off before we are interrupted with someone needing him back at the coat check.
He grunts. So do I. He feels damn good. I tell myself not to get off—I have other plans for my load tonight. CCOtter grinds down on me. Again. And again. His hand is a blur as he pleasures his dick as my cock hits every nerve in his ass.
“Fuck me. Fuck me!”
Guys come watch the fuck. One stands right in front of the Otter. I know what’s coming. A geyser of piss hoses down the boy on my cock. From his neck to his crotch. He is dripping piss.
The Otter’s hand moves faster. His ass tightens. My cock is encased in the tight sleeve of his butt as he shoots his load into the puddle of piss on the floor in front of him. Spurt after spurt hits the wet concrete. I hold him. I let him shake. My arms tighten. I kiss the back of his neck and tell him he’s a good boy…
Any other time, I would have given the Otter my load. But I had other plans that night. I was staying the night with a blog reader…