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.
Tiny, it was, too. Lit inside by a single bare bulb on the ceiling, it was just big enough for one vinyl padded bench pushed against one wall and a couple more square feet of floor space to stand and turn around in. A rusty pail and other junk were tossed in the corner.
"C'mon!" Karen said. "Hurry up! I gotta pee!"
I got on my knees and Karen dropped her jeans and panties once again.
Cynthia pointed to the bench and said, "Wouldn't it be easier if he lied on his back on that?"
"Okay, but hurry up!" Karen said.
I wasn't sure how that would make it easier for them, but I pulled the bench a little away from the wall on a diagonal and lay on it with my head at one end and my feet flat on the floor at the other end.
Karen walked around and straddled me, facing my feet. For a moment, she straddled my head between her thighs, giving me a close-up view of her ass and cunt as I stared straight up into her hairy crack. I hope she didn't plan to stand like that and pee on me.
Nope! A split second later, she sat. On my face. I suddenly couldn't breathe, and it felt like my skull would crack open any moment from the weight bearing down on it. Then she started to pee. Her stream of hot, salty piss splashed against my tongue and collected at the back of my throat. I managed to take a swallow while she peed, but it was painfully difficult to do so while holding my breath as 100 pounds of fem-ass rested on my face. My cock got hard again, and stayed that way.
She stood immediately after she finished peeing, and I swallowed the remainder of her piss then sucked in a lungful of cool air. I managed a couple more breaths before Cynthia took Karen's place on my face as I heard Karen leave.
As Cynthia also faced my feet, her ass cheeks were mashed against my eyelids and forehead while her pussy bore down on my mouth. My nose had slipped into Cynthia's anus, and she gave it a squeeze with her sphincter. I knew I'd need to need to wash my face when Cynthia was done with me. She relaxed her sphincter's grip of my nose, and she began to flood my mouth with piss. Again, I managed to swallow once while she peed, and then again after she stood.
I sat up and Cynthia said, "Thanks!"
She set her empty cup on the floor in a corner of the tiny room, reached into her purse, and jammed a dollar bill into the cup.
"What's that for?" I asked.
"A tip," she said and giggled.
Leaving the dollar in the cup, I was about to follow Cynthia when she opened the door and paused.
"C'mon, let's get out of here!" I urged.
"I think you got a waiting line," she said.
I peered out the door to see three women waiting in line. That first girl who used me (I still don't know her name) was second in line.
I bit my lip and tried to follow Cynthia back into the crowd.
The first girl in line grabbed my arm. "Hey!" she said. "You can't leave now! I gave up my place in line for the bathroom and been waiting in this line for five minutes!"
I sighed and went back inside the cabana. I looked at her. She was cute--short and skinny, with short ruby-red hair. I could sort of make out my reflection in the pinkish lenses of her wire-frame glasses.
"C'mon! I gotta pee!" she said.
Now where did I hear that before? I lay on the bench again exactly as I did a moment ago. She pulled her jeans and panties off and sat on my face like the two women before. Where did these women suddenly come from whom so easily show their bare bottoms and cunts to a guy they never met before?
The details were the same: my skull felt like it would cave in under her weight any second, she peed, I swallowed, she finished peeing, she stood, I swallowed again, she pulled her pants back on, and left. Oh--she also shoved a dollar in that cup.
That first girl with the brown hair who got me into this predicament came in right after that redhead left.
She took a seat on my face and said, "Ohh, this is a lot easier than standing up against your face."
With her 100-or-so pounds pressing down on my mouth and nose, I couldn't answer. She even added another dollar in the cup before she left.
The third girl in that line came in and--oh gross! I saw a smear of blood on her pussy lips just before she sat. She gave me a drink and another dollar.
Finally! I sat up to leave as she walked out the door--then another girl came in behind her.
"Where'd you come from?" I asked.
"Me? I've just been waiting in line."
"What? Wasn't that last girl the last in line?"
"No. There's about five people in line behind me."
"Five?" I sputtered.
"Yeah! Sure beats the line for the bathroom. God! There's got to be 20 people in line! Why don't they ever have enough bathrooms for women at these things?"
By then, I had to pee, myself. "Uhm, I've got to pee first, okay. Close the door."
Next to the pail in the corner was a rusty gas can that was a catalyst for cobwebs. It didn't seem to have been used in years and it was completely empty. I dropped my pants and slid my wiener into the cap opening. It felt weird to be taking a leak while a strange woman I never met before stood in the same room watching me pee, but considering what she was about to do to me, I guess it wasn't so strange after all.
I finished my business and got on my back once again. The band had just started to play another set while I got a face full of fem ass.
Holy shit! Something was dripping into my mouth, and it wasn't piss. I knew that taste. I smelled it every time I spanked the monkey. I lifted my arms up and tried to push her off. "Hey!" she giggled. My head was pinned under her ass, and I was completely immobile. I was stomping my feet on the floor and kicking against the bench, but that accomplished nothing. I reached over my head and back and tried to grab her by the buttocks and lift her off me. "Stop that!" she giggled again, then the piss began to flow.
There was nothing I could do but hurry up and swallow before she filled my mouth. I felt more nauseous from that one woman than from all the women before her--including the one having her period. As soon as she finished and stood, I jumped up and leaned over a rusty pail and puked--and not from drinking her piss. That made me feel a little better, but I still felt queasy, just knowing what else I swallowed in addition to her piss.
After she left, I counted five more women. Then another five women. Then I lost count. But, God! How come I never got lucky at one of these things? I had to swallow at least five pussy-loads of spunk, and I even lost count of that. After swallowing spunk from different women's cunts a few times, the few who were having their periods didn't seem so gross.
Every so often, I got up to pee in that gas can. It was still a weird feeling to have a strange woman stand there watching me pee while she waited for me to finish so that she could pee into me. That cup was jammed with dollar bills and someone had started a new cup with a couple of dollars in it.
The band had taken another break between sets, and it had become quiet again.
"How long is the line for me?" I asked one of the women who came to use me, since conversation was possible once again.
"The line for you is about 20 people."
"Holy shit! How long is the line for the regular women's room, then?"
"Uhm," she thought for a moment, "I guess about ten or so."
Wow! I didn't know what to make of the revelation that a majority of the women would prefer to use me instead of the normal bathroom. My stomach already felt bloated, and I had no idea how I was going to be able to consume all the fluid that was currently being stored in the bladders of ten women just outside that door.
A few more women used me, then--holy shit--a black woman came in. Of course, there's nothing wrong with black women. Just coming from a rural area, I never mingled with black people--never even knew any--though there were a couple of black kids in high school.
My first glimpse of her was of hair all in cornrows and braids, and wearing a bright purple sweater. The whites of her eyes gleamed brightly against her coal-black skin, though she didn't make eye contact with me. Like most of the others, she dropped her jeans and took a seat on my face. For a split second, I got a view of the utter blackness of her ass-crack between her dark brown cheeks, and the thin pink slit of her pussy shown brightly against her black hairy pussy lips. After that, it was all the same: she peed--I swallowed.
My stomach still felt bloated and I had no idea how I had managed to keep up with all the women who had used me so far. It seemed that I had been peeing in that gas can after almost every woman lately--so it was just flowing through me at that point. A few women later, one finished peeing and said, "I spent my last buck on beer, but I can pay you some other way. Okay?"
"Uhm, sure," I said, having forgotten that I was accumulating quite a stash of cash. She fell forward onto me, leaving me looking up at the ceiling past her twat still pressed against my chin and up through her ass crack. She unzipped my jeans and whipped out my, still hard, cock. At first, she licked and tickled my cock-head with her lips and tongue. After tasting the pussies of an army of women that night, I was on the brink of coming, though my cock was sore from being hard almost continuously since Karen and Cynthia used me at the start. Then, "Ah!" I gasped as she engulfed my cock with her mouth. She began to slide her lips up and down the length of my shaft, and that was all it took for me to explode into her mouth. I began bucking rhythmically as she rode me, grasping tightly onto my cock with her mouth.
After my last couple of grunts showed that I was empty, she released her lip-lock on my softening member and sat up on my chest and twisted her neck around to grin down at me.
"Wow!" I told her. "Thanks!"
"Sure," she shrugged, put her pants back on, and left.
A few more women used me. Then as one woman was peeing into my mouth, she started gasping, and jumped off me, spraying my face and drenching my hair with her piss.
"Urp!" she gasped and rushed out of the room. A moment later, I heard her, or someone, puking from around the side of the cabana to a chorus of "Ewwww!"s just outside the door. God! That was a close one!
A little later, while licking my lips after a short-ish bleached-blonde was pulling her pants up, she said, "Hey, You're making out pretty good since the last time I used you."
"Huh?" I said. I didn't remember her using me before. I learned that night that there's quite a variety among pussies and asses. Some ass cheeks are vast expanses of cellulite and others are wee mounds. Some anuses are pinholes, and some are twisted knots. Some twats are thick with muff hair, some thin haired, and some are shaved. Some clits are no bigger than a pimple, and others hang down like little dicks. Some pussies keep their secrets tightly lipped, others hang loose letting the breeze flow through. Perhaps I could learn to recognize a woman just by her pussy and ass, but that's not a skill I had yet to master.
The blonde pointed to the corner and I sat up to see her pointing at three empty plastic cups overflowing with beer-soaked dollar bills.
"Yeah, wow, I guess I am," I told her.
"So, uhm," she said, "you wanna fuck?"
"Sure!" I said--what guy doesn't. I started to reach into my pocket. "I think I got a rubber in my wallet."
"I'm on the pill. You don't need no rubber."
"Great!" I said.
She straddled my hips and grabbed my cock. A moment later, she had impaled herself on me.
I felt myself so deep inside her what with her sitting on my cock like that. I swear the sight of her hairy crotch pressing down on my hairy crotch added another half-inch of penetration.
I leaned up a little and said, "Come down here and kiss me."
She pushed me back down with her palm and said, "No way! Just fuck me."
"Sure," I said.
I began lifting my buttocks up and down, sliding my cock in and out of her cunt. Man, that was exhausting work lifting her body up and down with every thrust.
That blowjob a while ago had satisfied me. Still, countless pussies pressed to my lips over the past few hours had overcharged me so much that the pressure built in my loins so fast that it didn't take much effort to reach the summit and explode in wave after wave of ecstasy.
She, too, began having an orgasm. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried as I shot each wad deep into her pussy.
"Oh man!" she gasped as we came down from our mutual climax.
"You liked that?" she said as I was panting and coming down.
"Yeah!" Duh, what a question!
Sliding herself off my cock, she walked around and sat back down on my face again.
"Now clean up your mess," she said.
Oh shit! I had always imagined that sucking my own spunk out of a woman's pussy would be the grossest thing ever, but after sucking down unknown spunk from earlier pussies, I guess my own wasn't so bad after all. But I still felt queasy after she left.