Last weekend, Sunday evening, to be precise, my man did something to me that he never thought he’d do.
“I want you to piss on me.”
He looked at me a long moment, “you what now?”
I repeated myself and he nodded.
“That’s what I thought you said.”
He looked grim, told me that he’s up for many things, but that that was pushing it a bit, even for him.
On Dicks and Pissing
In case I haven’t mentioned it (enough), he’s German. German men, the many I’ve encountered at least, tend to sit down to piss. I asked him a long time ago about the logistics of this. How does he keep his dick from touching the toilet?
“I’m not that long,” he said.
“Excuse me?!”
Like the Brits I’ve known in my time, he does, actually, touch himself while he’s pissing; holds his dick steady with a few fingers. When he told me this, back then, my clit lit up. But let’s be honest here, just talking about his cock is a turn on, talking about him touching his cock sets me off. Seeing him touching his cock is dynamite.
I asked if I could watch.
It’s not like we hadn’t pissed in front of each other before, but these were the early days and I didn’t want to scare him off with my dick obsession. I had always aimed for some kind of surreptitious nonchalance, until I dared to ask for permission to watch him in the act.
He laughed at me, but invited me in for the next toilet trip. And I watched him drop his pants, exposing his already hardening dick.
He sat, pressed down on his dick and we waited.
“You don’t make this easy.”
“Sorry.”
I was grinning, feeling silly with my power, enjoying the surge of heat I felt in that moment. He managed, eventually, and afterwards I washed him and knelt before him. In between sweeping, slurping licks, I told him how hot it made me watching him piss.
“Weirdo.”
And the idea was born. And the idea was brooded over. For a long time.
Spunk!
I love having dicks unload their spunk on me. I love the feeling of the warm liquid spurting onto my skin, those seconds it takes to unload, jet after jet of it. I like it best, when they’re really turned-on, super horny, because the build-up has been so long and so damned intense, and the jizz gets really liquidy and just spurts out and hits me like a mini pressure hose. Ahh, yes.
The initial heat of it as it hits my skin, is gorgeous. The texture of the liquid, the way it feels as it runs down, cooling as it goes. I love to trail my fingers through it after, the slickness becoming sticky.
Then there are the times when, if you’re really lucky, there’s more than one dick involved. More than one dick owner for you to drive to insanity, before they come. And eventually, inevitably one of them does, and then, and this is the best bit: the other uses the jizz to tease you higher. Stroking it in circles over your nipples, or using it as a lube for clit action, or spanking your jizz covered ass or pussy. Mmmh. Uhh.
I adore his dick; I’m obsessed with it. Watching him touch himself, yep, yes please. Being ejaculated on is mind-blowingly hot. Hell, just watching him piss turns me on.
So, how does it feel to be pissed on? Is it as hot as someone wanking off onto you? I’ve done a LOT of imagining about this.
We watched this show on Netflix, where a woman built sex rooms for people, and in one episode, she built a wet-room for exactly this purpose. That kindled my preexisting interest. Since then, I’ve been curious and I’ve read many articles, looked up statistics, asked a good friend, who is very adventurous. In my quest to understand how it feels, I’ve reached the conclusion that there is really only one way to find out.
Am I a weirdo? Perhaps, yes. But not because of this.
Just so you know, I actually did mess with the space-time continuum a bit with this post (I’m also a nerd). I wrote the post, before he pissed on me. I wrote it to explain to him, why I want this, and what I think might turn me on about it.
To tell him, I need to know how THAT feels.
How THAT Feels
So, cutting back to the start. He did indeed look grim. I passed him my mobile, and he read my draft of this post, which at that time ended around here.
He handed my phone back to me.
“You’re keen, aren’t you?”
He often tells me that it’s not so much what we do, but my enthusiasm in the moment that is the biggest turn-on for him. I gave him my best wide eyes and nodded.
“I don’t know if I can, but since it’s you; how do I picture this?”
And that’s how I found myself on my knees in the shower cubicle after a busy day’s teasing on Sunday evening. He stood before me and yeah, he was grinning at me. He pulled his joggers down, exposed the top of his semi-hard dick, reached in and pulled it out. The slow deliberate tease of his actions played against him though.
“Bugger.”
I giggled.
We had to wait; he struggled a moment with his hardness.
This piss-play malarkey is not as easy as you’d think. I watched him trying to bring himself back under control, and all I wanted in that moment was to make him harder. I was just staring at his dick, he was staring at me, staring at his dick and he was not getting any softer. He let out a grunt of frustration. His was dick looking more suckable by the second, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it …
“Let’s just try again some other time.”
Reaching for his cock, I knelt up and took what I wanted. He stood straight before me and watched me through his darkening eyes.
“Stop. More wine.”
He made me sit on my hands on the sofa, in my bathrobe, and he put on a Queer Eye and we drank more wine and water.
Attempt number two was a complete success and I can very definitely tell you that I now know how it felt.
I loved being on my knees, watching him standing over me with his dick aimed at my tits. Waiting those few seconds before he let rip were some of the hottest moments of anticipation I’ve ever felt; the power dynamic, knowing I’m going to be completely humiliated, degraded, waiting for that warm liquid to hit me. It was so exactly my thing, catipulted me into extreme horn.
He let his breath out with an AAAH and the first spray hit me square in the middle of my chest. He did not hold back.
The jet pushed in at my tits as he moved his cock back and forth. My mouth was open with the surprise of the reality of what was happening, but I shut it again fast enough. The spray-back flew into my face, my hair, the warmth of the liquid running down over my body like a sheet.
It was intensely humiliating, which I loved. It felt endless, compared to having someone blow their load over you.
But it was also extremely uncomfortable, the splash-back and the faint scent of it overloaded me.
I safe-worded. He immediately aimed his piss at the floor of the shower beside me. It’s not like you can just stop pissing when you’ve saved up so damned much of it.
Despite being covered in his piss, he pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me, embracing his piss.
I couldn’t help giggling.
“You do choose your moments, love,” he said.
And he stepped into his piss puddle with me, shut the door and we settled for some steamy shower sex instead. And it was perhaps just a shade hotter than usual.
So, in conclusion, the experiment was a success. And I now know how THAT feels. The absolute best part for me was the psychological experience; the power dynamic between us, the anticipation and the humiliation. The sensory experience, the warmth and the feeling of being drenched was also very enjoyable, just very shocking!
I would definitely not rule it out in the future, now that I know how it actually feels.
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