Foreword: This is a work of fiction. None of the people in this story are real. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
CAUTION: This story depicts acts of kinky sex known as "water sports," involving a male consuming the urine of one or more women.
Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (firstname.lastname@example.org) as the author, and as long as you don't make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks.
I could hear the band three blocks away as I walked down the sidewalk, past the power tower, toward Fraternity row. The weather was warm for the first weekend in December, and everyone seemed to be in the mood for a party after returning to school from Thanksgiving break.
Although I wasn't often among the beer-chugging crowd, I went to one or two of these beer blasts each semester for fun. It was a Friday evening, and I had just escaped from my last class an hour ago. After stopping off at the dorm for a quick shower, I headed out.
After paying my five bucks to get in, I passed through the frat house to the back yard where the crowd was already well on its way toward a drunken stupor. Sloshing across puddles of spilled beer in the grassy mud through the crowd of guys and girls, I made my way to one of the tables and paid another dollar for a plastic cup filled with the cheapest, palest, panther piss ever to call itself beer.
Being one of the few frat houses that had a pool, it had a tiny cabana out by the side of the pool for changing and I caught a glimpse of a guy and girl sneaking into it. Good for them I shrugged, and continued to mingle.
I tried to talk to a few girls I knew from some of my classes, but it was near impossible to have a coherent conversation. God! Those speakers towered over me by several feet! I stood and watched the band play for a while, just grooving to the music.
My roommate, the stereo-head that he is, showed me in Rolling Stone a few days earlier that their first CD just made platinum and a couple of big-time rock stations in New York and L.A. picked one of the tracks to be the next hit single.
"If you go to that beer blast," he told me, "enjoy them up close and personal while you can."
The guitar player's fingers were just a blur on the strings, and I thought the drummers sticks would punch through those drums if he beat them any harder. The singer was hot--a tall beauty with long black hair in a satin-red dress that had a neckline that plunged to her bellybutton. And what a sexy, throaty voice! Tch, way out of my reach!
After my second cup of panther piss, er, beer, I needed to take a whiz. One of the perks of being a guy was that I walked past the line of about ten females waiting to use the women's bathroom in the basement of the frat house. I walked down the steps that led from the back yard into the basement, and right into the men's room, did what I had to do, and headed back out again. The band had taken a break, and it was relatively quiet just then.
"Damn! That's not fair," a female voice slurred out.
Turning to see a vacant-eyed girl with shoulder-length brown hair in a beer-stained white tee-shirt swaying in the mud at the end of the line, I replied, "Huh? You talking to me?"
"I've been waiting five minutes and there's ten people in front of me. I can't hold it in no more!"
"Yeah, that sucks," I said.
"But you guys don't have to wait. It ain't fair!" She smacked my arm.
"Hey!" I rubbed my arm. I figured I'd try to gross her out and get away, so I said, "What do you want me to do about it--let you pee in my mouth in the bushes or something?"
Her eyes brightened. "Hey, yeah! That's sounds like a plan. C'mon!"
In that instant, she grabbed my arm again and pulled me through the crowd. She had to be kidding, but we made our way to the side of the frat house that was somewhat secluded in hedges.
"C'mon-n-n," she said as she wobbled in place. "I gotta go-o-o. What are you waiting for?"
"So pee if you gotta," I said. "What do you need me for?"
"I can't pee against the side of the house, asshole. C'mon! Get on your knees."
"What!" I gasped.
Before I could think, she pushed down on my shoulders and I got down on my knees. Then--I couldn't believe it! She dropped her jeans and slid her panties down her legs. I was staring straight into her crotch! And then she started walking bow-legged toward me. The two tiny mounds on each side of her dark slit buried in her muff hair jiggled with each step she took toward me. My cock suddenly came to attention, though I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy what was about to happen to me.
"Hey! Wait!" I stammered as I crawled backward on my knees.
"Don't be chicken, it ain't gonna kill you. Hell, I bet you'll like it. My last boyfriend did."
At that, I backed up against the side of the house, and she kept walking forward until she had her muff pressed against my face. "C'mon! Tilt your head back!" she demanded as she arched her back aiming her pussy at my mouth.
I took a breath, and then she did it! A stream of hot, salty liquid splashed against my tongue. It wasn't as awful as I thought it would be. It was relatively tasteless and I swallowed small gulps as she slowly peed into my mouth.
After she finished, I stood and spat the rest of her pee out while she pulled her jeans back up.
"Hey! Don't spit that out there!"
"What? You expect me to hold it in my mouth while I walk to the men's room?"
"No! Swallow it!"
"Yeah! You guys want us to swallow your cum! You can swallow my water."
"Well, I swallowed some of it."
"Okay, thanks," she said and walked away.
I waited for her to leave and then I made my way out from behind the bushes on the side of the house. It was then that the taste hit me. My mouth suddenly tasted they way I remembered a dirty restroom in a gas station once smelled. I made my way back to get another beer to get the taste of piss out of my mouth.
Mingling with beer in hand again, that girl whose pee I just drank caught my eye. She was walking toward me with another glassy-eyed girl, both carrying cups of panther-piss beer. I walked up to her--we practically had sex, and I didn't even know her name--and she leaned up against me, putting her hand on my shoulder, and whispered into my ear, "Karen needs to pee too."
"Uhm..." I stammered and checked out Karen. Super cute with short blonde hair and a tight green sweater showing her bare midriff.
"You have to! Look at the line," she said while pointing at the line that must have had at least 15 women standing in it. There were even three men waiting to use the men's room.
I shrugged, "Okay."
Karen and I headed off to the side of the house amongst the bushes again, while the first girl disappeared back into the crowd.
"How do we do this?" she asked in a slightly slurred voice.
Having established the procedure, I got to my knees and tilted my head back. "Uhm, just walk up to me," I said, shocked at myself that I was explaining to her how to use my mouth as her urinal.
"Okay," she said. She dropped her jeans and shuffled up to me with bowed legs, pressing her twat against my mouth like it was a urinal for females.
Again, it was over quickly. I stood and swallowed the last of her pee while she pulled her jeans up and left. She didn't even say, "Thank you."
Having near-oral sex with two women within a matter of minutes was a brand new experience for me. But I had the taste of a dirty restroom in my mouth once again. Then, urp! My stomach convulsed and a flood of yellowish puke gushed out of my mouth onto the ground against the house, leaving the most horrid taste in my mouth--worse than piss. By morning, I knew there would be more than this one puddle of puke around here, so I didn't worry too much about abandoning it there.
I stood there for a moment taking slow breaths to clear my throat, then headed to the men's room to take a drink of water. A few other guys at the sink gave me knowing looks--everyone knew that puking was an unavoidable consequence of attending beer blasts.
I figured my wow-meter was redlining after what had just happened, so at the top of the basement stairs I headed back into the house to leave. But someone grabbed my arm as my foot stepped into the doorway. "Hey!" Karen slurred, sloshing her beer as another girl gazed at me with vacant eyes.
"Uhm, I'm leaving," I said.
"No! You can't leave. I gotta pee again. And so does Cynthia."
I considered bolting, but Karen had a firm grip of my arm with both hands, and Cynthia just grabbed my other arm. "Okay," I said.
"Ewwww!" both girls said when they saw that puddle of vomit on the ground between the bushes that had become the ad-hoc girls' bathroom. I had forgotten about that.
"Now what?" I asked, relieved that I might get out of urinal duty.
"I know!" Cynthia said looking to the rear of the yard. "Over there."
It had become dark, and the back yard was lit by a few floodlights on the upper floor of the house. The line of females waiting to use the women's room was snaking halfway around the house by then. Karen and I followed Cynthia out back to where the crowd had thinned and entered that cabana by the canvas-covered pool.
.... There is more of this story ...