Pissing on I-90

Chicago (and points East)--November, 2011

November’s piss party (from 5 to 9pm, every second Saturday of the month) was down in numbers (only 40 or so guys), but they were the right 40 guys…


It’s 9:25pm and I’ve just hit the tollway. And I have to piss. Fuck. I squirm in my seat for the entire 20 miles or so to the first service plaza. Even then, I don’t go in. I reek of piss. I hadn’t noticed until I’d stepped outside 40 minutes ago, but in the fresh air it became evident how seemingly every man there decided to piss on me as I was having sex…

I pull into the far end of the parking lot, piss in my metal travel mug, will myself to stop, open the car door surreptitiously, dump the contents and refill the mug again. I’m back on the road in a moment more and my mind (and cock) start reliving the last four hours.

Drinking water.

Drinking piss.

Drinking the piss of a hot construction worker type, who is all big chest, matted hair and looking to feed.
The quick fuck of my South American former model who has a terrible night as his clean out continually betrays him.

Covering and feeding two guys making out in the inflatable pool.

A fuck bud from previous Chicago trips arrives. I knew he liked piss, but he’s never been at this group with me. We see each other from across the room. Rod is prematurely grey, nicely built, has a big cock and is truly versatile. We hug. He turns and presents his ass to me. I’m instantly on my knees. It’s a hard bubble butt. I have to separate the cheeks with my hands. My cock pushes out of my yellow jock and is actually painfully erect as my tongue connects to his pucker. His asshole opens easily and my tongue is deep, deep in his butt. I lick, chew, piston it in and out, as Rod bends over, grabbing on to a passing man to help him keep his balance. I pull out slightly and spit on his hole.

“Fuck, yeah.” His voice is muffled, being buried in the man’s mouth. I look up and dive in again. And the first strand hits me. Someone behind me has let loose a piss stream that hits at the top of Rod’s ass crack. It pours down over my tongue. I slurp. I swallow. I push some into his hole with my tongue. Fuck. I rarely get this and here it is, almost first thing…

Rod is making incoherent sounds. The piss slows and stops. I start to rise, but someone else pisses a long sweet stream for me to do more of the same. Rod is jerking like crazy. I eat his hole, barely able to get air. I’m light headed, it goes on so long. I finally pull off his hole, gasping. A third guy lets fly directly into my open mouth. I swallow some, but finally have to stand. I let the piss coat my cock as I catch my breath. And shove it up Rod’s hole. Damn, he knows how to make his ass sleeve cling to my cock. We don’t fuck long. It’s a hello fuck. It’s a God-I’ve-missed-your-ass fuck. But it’s long enough that the man holding Rod let’s go, pisses on his arched back and coats my cock as it plows into Rod. He watches us. I eventually slow. The third man kneels as I pull out. He lovingly cleans my cock. He’s rewarded with a piss load of mine down his throat.

Shit. Back to reality. I need to piss again. It’s been thirty minutes of driving. At the party I was pissing every fifteen, so it’s beginning to slow. I eat more saltines to absorb some of the liquid in my system. I can’t make the next rest area. I pull off on a wide piece of shoulder and repeat the process with my mug…
I am back on the road, thinking of it all again.

Lots of guys sucking my cock.

Some getting my piss.

Some pissing on my cock before they suck it.

I remember introducing Rod to my older piss bud from Michigan. Rod’s response is to turn him around and bend him over. I spit on Mark’s hole and Rod’s big piece slides home. Mark holds on to me as Rod jackhammers his hole. Two guys close to us aim piss streams at Rod’s cock. Rod grunts. I look at him. I know he’s gonna shoot.

“Cream his hole” I tell him. “Give it to him.” Rod is spasming and bucks into him. He falls onto Mark’s back and holds on as his cock is shooting. Slowly, he pulls out, in that intense pleasure/pain moment right after you shoot. I move around to clean his cock. And felch the load. And get covered in piss as some anonymous stream sluices down Mark’s well fucked ass crack into my mouth. I almost shoot right there.

SHIT. Road piss number 3. This time I make a truckers only rest area. I fill, repeat, fill…

It’s late in the party. I’ve been watching him all night. A young man with intricate tribal tattoos, with pierced nips and a pierced cock that hangs fat and obscene on his lithe body. A pretty face, with far too much hair product. He’s been the center of attention. All night. I can’t get close. But we’ve made eye contact. Finally we meet in the back corner.

“Hey,” he says. “Would you eat my ass like you did in September?”

I smile and kneel. He bends over a stool, presenting me with beautiful globes of ass flesh. They are as soft and malleable as Rod’s are hard and muscled.

I go slow. My tongue traces patterns down his crack and on to his cheeks. I tease the hole. As he starts to whimper, I dive in hard, tongue as deep as I can get it.

“I don’t get fucked by guys as big as you,” he apologizes.

I grunt, completely happy where I am.

And a piss spray splashes onto us. I go to some secret place where it’s all about sensation. The warmth of the piss. The feel of his young skin. The taste of his sweet hole, tinged with the piss. I don’t know what heaven is supposed to be like--but mine could be very much like this moment.

Suddenly he pulls away from me. What the fuck? He turns and shoots a huge load onto my face and open mouth. He bends down and pulls me up. We kiss. His finger touches my cheek, scooping up some cum and feeds it to me. He kisses me once more, though not too deeply.

“What’s your name again?” he asks as he shoves his cock into a black jock strap. I tell him. “I have your number from when we met before. I want to get it in my phone. I throw great parties.” I sit, a little dazed on the stool, and watch him across the room, as he collect his bag from the clothes check, gets dressed and leaves. I sit long enough that my wet body begins to feel uncomfortably cool in the draughty back bar.

On the road, I realize I‘ve gone forty-five minutes without pissing. My phone lights. I squint at the message. It’s from the young boy.

“Consider yourself added. You are the best ass eater. See you next month.”

My cock stirs as I flip the phone shut. And happily munch a saltine.