October Piss Party

Chicago--October, 2011

My  yellow jock is still hanging on the shower head, limp and twisted.  I’ve showered with it hanging there, this last week and a half.  It reminds me of the great time I had--but also that I’ve not written it up yet.  So here goes, trying to condense four  hours of play into a couple of pages….

I’ve paid the man to get into the back bar and I’m stripping out of my gear.  It’s hard to see in the darkened room after coming in from the bright, hot October afternoon.  I unzip my flight suit, revealing my yellow jock.  I work the legs off over the rounded heels of my second best pair of combat boots.  I am third in.  No one is here yet…but it starts to fill fast.  I recognize many regulars and also several new faces.  The room can hold 80 guys--but with the gorgeous weather outside, I’m guessing about 50 will show up.  It seems none of my regular bottoms are here…h’mm…

I fill my drink container with tepid water from the huge thermos.  I find water at room temperature goes through me faster.  I sit on a shelf along the side wall and watch the video playing on the back wall--a mainstream porn company trying for the fetish market with mixed results.  I lounge, drink, knead my cock thru the jock.  Just plump it.  No need to be hard.  There’s lots of time.   I chat with several regulars--the weather, the size of the crowd, ‘I missed you at the last one’ type stuff.  A hot young man in boots and a black jock is watching me.  He’s had his eye on me from the moment I pulled off the flight suit.  He has a beer and is sipping.  I meet his gaze and, after a moment, I go sit next to him. He tells me he’s new to this.

“New to piss?”  I ask.

“Naw.  I’ve just never attended this group.”  He looked around at the various men getting undressed.   “Does it take long to get going?”

“I think guys are still hydrating.  I tried to do some before I got here, but I had to drive in.”

“So…” His cinnamon colored hand starts to pull at his jock.  “Where do you piss?  Just in that blow up pool?”

I smile.  “No.  Anywhere you want.  The pool is really for those who want too roll around in it.  Most guys either drink or just like it to play over them as they have sex.”

We chat a little more--but he doesn’t make the first move.  I don’t either.  I keep thinking he wants to fuck me.  He excuses himself for more water.  I look over at the door.  There is a fuck bud from Michigan--Mark--one of the few I’ve found near home who loves watersports as much as I do.  He’s older than I, with a chest that I envy, a thick cock stuffed into a yellow jock and a dragon tattoo winding over his bicep, back and shoulder. I go over to give him a hug.  We’ve recently played--but he’s never been here.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”      

“I got away from work.“  He grins.  “I need to piss so bad.”

I drop to my knees.  Next to no other play is happening.  So all eyes are on us.  A new face.  Center of attention.  I take his meaty cock out.  I can barely get it into my mouth before he starts to piss.   His flow is huge.  And he’s not doing any starting and stopping to help me breathe and swallow.  It cascades down my throat.  Sweet and clear.  My own cock, which had been filling with blood, stands up.  I stroke.

I swear, it just takes some one to start.  The room is suddenly awash with guys sucking and pissing.  In one corner I see the hot new guy cover the chest of a man who’s been sucking his large cock.  The man rubs it into his pecs, concentrating on his nipples.  I walk over.   The sucker rises and goes for a refill.  I kiss the full lips of the new man.  Immediately, he’s down on his knees, working my cock--hand on shaft, head in his mouth.  I’m almost hydrated, but not quite. I take a long slug of water as I revel in him now sucking the full shaft.  He stands.  His cock is as long as mine, though slightly thinner.  It fits perfectly down my throat.  I suck, my two hands squeezing the globes of his bubble butt.  I know he has no piss, so after a moment, still on my knees, I turn him around.  My tongue sinks into the rounded mounds of his ass.  I have to pull them apart to get to his hole.  He sighs.  And bends--giving me full access.  He tastes slightly metallic and something  tangier I can’t quite place.  I rise.  I place my cock in his crack.  He looks wonderingly over his shoulder.  And I piss.  His head jerks back in pleasure.  It coats his crack, the mounds.  I play some directly on the hole I was tongue fucking.  I stop, saving a little in reserve, kneel and begin cleaning every inch of wet flesh with my tongue.  My piss, made from tea and tons of water, mixes perfectly with the taste of his skin.  When he senses I’m  done, he pulls me up--and does the best thing possible--he kisses me.  It’s long, deep, roaming, searching for the taste of his inner self on my tongue.

We separate.  I watch him from time to time as the hours progress.  The next two hours are all about mutual oral with or with out piss.  I play with several regulars and welcome a few new ones.  Without the usual posse of bottoms, no one is getting fucked yet.  No, I’m wrong.  In the back corner is this hairy, nicely proportioned middle aged guy who I find out later, has a killer French accent.  I watch a muscle bear bend him over and fuck him hard.  Always helpful, I go over and piss on the bear’s cock entering his hole.  They respond enthusiastically.  Eventually they slow, stop, kiss and separate.  This group is not about getting off.  It’s all about edging.  Enjoying the ride.  The top tells me to make sure to get some of that ass later.  I tell him I will.  He complains about the lack of bottoms.  Do I know any here?  I look around.  My friend Mark is kneeling near the bar, getting piss from three different guys.  I tell the top he should try his ass. I was there last week and it was great.  When the scene at the bar plays out, I go over to Mark and tell him there’s a guy who wants to fuck him.  They look at each other from across the room.  Mark looks at me and I nod.  The top gestures to us and we head to a semi private spot along the back wall.  The three of us kiss.  Then it becomes all about the two of them.  Mark arches his ass back and up, towards the top.  I do nothing but stand in front of Mark and hold him as he receives a vicious battering.  I can feel ever thrust as his whole body is shoved against me.  The muscle bear fucks long and hard.  He doesn’t cum but--

“You want piss?”

“Yeah.”  Mark’s breathless.  “Fill me.”

Mark clutches me as he feels the man unleash in him.  After just a few seconds of internal release, he pull his still pissing cock out and finishes hosing the crack of Mark’s ass.  I turn Mark around and rim the piss off his hole and ass cheeks.  Mark has the top’s cock in his mouth.  Eventually we share a communal kiss.

I don’t know for sure what happens for the next hour.  More of the same, certainly.

I watch a man who’s kept on a white t-shirt and  a pair of jeans, climb into the pool.  Like a magnet, about ten guys ring it, I’m one of them.  He kneels.  He gets piss from all directions.  He goes from perfectly dry to covered in a matter of seconds---all his clothing clinging to his body.  He  lays in the pool on his back, fighting to get his cock out.  He finally does.  I aim directly at it.  My piss hits his dick as he fists it.  He shoots an arc of cum all over his stained t-shirt.

I need to fuck.  I find Mark already in the back corner.  He getting fucked by a young studious type.  The Frenchman is there too.  He bends over, holding on to the same back bench Mark is leaning on.  I slip up the Frenchman’s ass.  Side by side with Mark.  I see that the muscle bear has a third bottom who he is plowing, but I can quite tell who it is.  But we are all in a row.  All fucking hard and deep and noisy.

It’s the muscle bear who says  “Change.”  He comes down and slips into the Frenchman, I move to Mark.  It feels like home.  At this point he’s extremely well used and open.  The studious boy moves down the line into--holy fuck….it’s the new guy.  The beautiful boy who’s ass I covered--who I thought wanted my butt.  Studious boy is just bouncing off that bubble butt.  Mark clenches his guts  and almost makes me cum.  I hold off.  The next shift, we just sense.  No one has to say anything.  The bear plows into Mark, the boy goes round to the Frenchman and I slip into the wondrous cinnamon colored bubble butt I’ve wanted all night.  He doesn’t even know who’s in him at this point.  I smack his ass.  He turns.  It only takes a second before a huge grin crosses his face.  He steps up the milking of my cock.  I change up and do short strokes.  Then I’m back to long dicking that wondrous butt.  He clamps down hard on my cock.  Shit, I’m so close.  Instead, I realize that I’m making him cum.  He is shooting his load all over some pig who’s worked his way under us.  Oh, fuck he’s gonna ask me to stop in ten seconds.  That thought sends me over.  I shudder.  Burst  after burst.  I can’t stop. He’s says something but I can’t make it out.  I hold still, marinating my meat in his sloppy hole.  Without thinking, I piss.  He turns to me.  Our lips meet.  I can’t stop.  It’s a huge, huge load.  The pig who took his cum, senses what’s happening.  He squirms around a little at our feet and is in position for when I pull out.  I slowly pull my swollen cock out of his ass and piss cascades out and onto the pig who shoots his own load.

I lean into the new boy’s ear and whisper. It’s just one word.

“Welcome.”