I have had a fascination with the sight and sound of women peeing for as long as I can remember. Indeed, I began fantasizing about having my cock bathed in a hot, steaming gush of pee long before I ever heard the words ‘golden shower’. In my late twenties, I actually considered visiting an escort who specialized in such things but I was ultimately too frightened to go through with the plan and it never happened. Accordingly, my fantasies of pee-sex remained unfulfilled except while stroking myself to images and videos I found on the internet. 
Until now, that is…

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Since this past autumn, I have been involved with a really lovely, sexy girl by the name of Anya, and I think of her, sort of, as my girlfriend. I say ‘sort of’ because, in truth, our relationship is really hard to define. Neither of us is seeing anybody else and we spend most of our time in each other’s company, even though we live in separate residences and only occasionally share a bed together. I suppose I love her, and she seems to have genuine affection for me, but whether we can be called lovers in the proper and usual sense of the word is difficult to figure out…

Before I explain further, let me say that I found Anya instantly, almost desperately, attractive the moment I saw her for the first time. She is taller than me, by an inch or so, but she gives the appearance of being taller still because, whereas I am quite stocky, she is very slender. She has long, very straight, jet-black hair that falls to her shoulders and she has her bangs cut in a straight line right across at the level of her eyebrows. She also wears very dark eye-makeup, rather like a Goth, and this, accentuating as it does the deep, smokiness of her eyes, really adds to her mysterious allure.

As to her figure, Anya’s breasts, though quite small, are pretty indeed and she has a delicious, heart-shaped bottom that most men (indeed women) would kill for. She is desirable, and makes me want her but, even worse than the off-hand state of our ‘relationship’ (such as it is), is the fact that she has never let me fuck her.

Never has… Never will. Period.

She is strange about that. She has told me that she finds the ‘humping and bumping’ (as she puts it) ludicrous. She has no interest in having a cock inside her and seems to find it unfathomable that other women do. Now, you may, on reading that, come to the conclusion that she doesn’t enjoy sex but in that you’d be wrong. She is in fact a very sexual person and I’m sometimes hard pressed to keep up…

What Anya likes is oral sex. Lots of it. She wants (no, demands) it frequently, and she likes it for long periods. I have no problem with that, of course. Anya doesn’t shave, neither pubes nor armpits (which is fine, by me) and putting my face down into her hot, steamy bush is incredibly, intoxicatingly exciting. Sometimes, when she is especially horny, she also wants me to pay attention to her asshole as well and will sometimes begin a session by presenting her delectable bottom to me in an unspoken, but clear invitation to worship and service her delectable little opening, Again, I am more than happy to please her that way.

My releases, much less frequent than hers, come mainly by way of hand-jobs. Sometimes, Anya lets me bring myself off between her thighs, and sometimes between, or more accurately, against her tits. Twice, after servicing her bottom orally, she has also let me slide my cock between her cheeks so that I came over the small of her back. Mostly though, and mainly because Anya loves watching me ejaculate, she uses her hand (sometimes squatting with her pussy or ass pressed squarely on my mouth) and gets me off that way. I’m happy with that, for the most part, and sometimes I can quite cheerfully forego the pleasure of intercourse because she is so fucking skilled at what she does for me…

Anyway… To bring this story around to the actual point, my interest (my desire) for pee play didn’t seem like something that would ever happen. Not at present anyway. It just wasn’t a subject I felt I could broach, despite Anya’s deep, sometimes kinky sexuality, and I pretty much got used to the idea of this being nothing but a private, very intense fantasy. Then … It happened…

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One Sunday afternoon, I was over at Anya’s. She was busy at her computer with some project for work and I took the opportunity to pop down and use the gym in the basement of her apartment complex. Afterwards, I came back up to shower and then, when I was done, I located a pair of her nail clippers and tried to remove an irritating and painful hangnail I had develop on my right foot. I was attending to this task, still naked, with the foot in question resting on the edge of the tub, when Anya walked in. She was wearing nothing but a pair of panties (which is how she prefers to lounge around the house), and she waked over to the toilet, slid the panties off and sat down.

Now, I need to mention at this point that, when it came to the bathroom, we had never laid down any specific rules about what was private and what was not. There was no special reason for this as the subject had just never came up. She did her business while I was elsewhere and I did mine alone a well. Accordingly, I was a little taken aback when she plopped herself down in front of me like that and I stopped what I was doing.

‘Go about your business,’ Anya said, with a dismissive flip of her hand. When I didn’t reply, still staring in surprise, she rolled her eyes. ‘Were you maybe planning to just stand there and watch me pee, then?’ she asked.

Again, I had no idea what to say. The idea of watching her was certainly an exciting one, of course, but it didn’t seem as though she were actually inviting me and I didn’t dare communicate my interest. You can imagine my shock then when she shrugged in acceptance.

‘Well, you can’t see anything from up there,’ she said. ‘Come over here.’

Holy Shit…

I didn’t need to be told twice and I stepped out of the tub to stand before her. She motioned for me to lower myself and I kneeled on the floor, just inches away from the toilet. My cock was already beginning to harden.

‘Are you ready?” Anya asked.

She sat with her hands resting on her knees, her thighs apart, and there was a moment of silence as her stomach tensed and she strained to let go. It took a few seconds but then the first tentative drops tinkled musically into the bowl, splattering against the porcelain. Her bush, as I have said, was very full and I couldn’t see much until her stream suddenly burst from her in a thick, golden jet. As I watched, she scooted back on the seat a little and spread her legs wider. I was entranced by the sight but I managed to tear my eyes away for a second and I saw that she was staring at me intently. Her eyes were glistening and I could see that she was getting turned on.

‘God, this does excite you, doesn’t it?” she said. My cock was straining now, my erection pointing right towards the dark patch between her legs. She leaned back even further and used the fingers of both hands to spread the lips of her pussy so that I could see the pinkness within. Her stream was finger thick, emerging, I could see, from just beneath the upper margin of her inner labia. Above it, her clit poked through in obvious tumescence.

‘You want to be peed on too, don’t you?’ she asked suddenly. There was a note of wonder in her voice as if she had suddenly had a revelation. ‘Maybe all over your cock?’ I knew she was staring at me speculatively but I couldn’t meet her eyes. Still entranced by the hypnotic column of gushing urine and the bubbling, thrumming sound as it met the toilet water, I could only nod dumbly, wishing the moment could last forever.

All too soon, of course, the stream dwindled away to a final few drops. Anya stood up immediately and by the time I climbed to my feet she was already beginning to pull her panties back on. I was desperately aroused now. I wanted to eat her, to fuck her, to bury my tongue deep in her ass, but she was having none of it. She swatted my cock, making it bounce.

‘I don’t have time to deal with that, right now,’ she told me. ‘I have work to do still.’

She turned to leave then, but stopped by the bathroom door. This time, when she spoke, her voice was a little softer.

‘Maybe later we can see what we can do for you,’ she said.

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The rest of the afternoon and early evening seemed to pass in agonizing slowness. We ordered Chinese for supper and afterwards watched a documentary that Anya had been wanting to see. Usually, when Anya is horny and plans to do something about it later, she gives me little signals, some intentional, some unconscious. On this particular night, however, she gave me nothing and I was beginning to think I was going to be disappointed.

It was only later that she finally asked me to brew her up a pot of Chamomile tea.

‘A good big pot, she said.’ She then gave me a meaningful look that made my pulse race, and added: ‘I think I’ll be needing it…’

Well… you can probably imagine my feelings at that moment. Anya actually ended up drinking two pots of tea all by herself and I am fairly sure that her slowness, and the exaggerated way she savored each sip was calculated to make crazy with anticipation. Even if that was imagination on my part, that was the effect and, by the time she finished the very last cup I was a jangle of nerves. Finally, she stood up.

‘You get undressed,’ she said. ‘And, don’t come into the bathroom until I call you…’

My God… the next five or ten minutes seemed like an eternity. I was hard even before I was fully undressed and I was just about hopping from foot to foot in an agony of frustrated longing until she eventually summoned me. I walked to the bathroom and, with my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest, I pushed open the door.

The shower was running at full blast, the water echoing with a steady roar against the empty tub, and the room was hot and close with clouds of steam. Anya had placed a towel on the floor against the foot of the toilet and she was standing facing me. She wore, about her hips, something she had used a number of times before, consisting of a narrow, studded leather strap around her waist with two even thinner straps extending downward and running beneath her on each side of her mound. Way underneath, I knew, was a ring connecting to a second set of straps that attached to the back of the belt an spread her pretty bottom cheeks apart. She usually only wore this for those special sessions when she was planning for my oral attention back there. She looked, I can only say, alluring in the extreme…

I stepped towards her, stopping at the edge of the towel between us, and I was about to say something when she reached up and place her finger across my lips. I’m not even sure what it was that I wanted to say to her at that moment, but it was clear that I wasn’t to speak.

‘If we are going to do this,’ she said, ‘we are going to do it all… I’m going to pee for you. I’m going to piss over your cock and balls and then,’ she continued, ‘I am going to save some. What I save… you’ll take in your mouth. You are going to taste what I give you right from my cunt… Is that agreed? Say now if you have second thoughts,’

Oh God…

Let me say here that I was fully aware that many men like to drink pee and I had seen it often enough on porn videos and the like. Still, I had yet to even be peed upon, much less in, and actually taking it in my mouth was a step well beyond anything I had fantasized about. In a different, less charged moment, the mere contemplation of the idea might have repelled me but, suddenly, in the steamy hot fug of the bathroom, about to realize a cherished dream. I discovered I wanted it desperately. The thought of tasting her hot nectar, the sheer intimacy of the act, blossomed as an ache of intense longing deep within the pit of my stomach…

'Yes,’ I croaked hoarsely. ‘I’ll… I’ll do it.’ Anya continued to look at me expectantly. ‘I’ll do it for you… and I’ll do it because I want it,’ I added, stammering in my haste.

She didn’t smile, but she nodded as though something important to her had been satisfied and motioned me to lie to the towel. At first, I thought she expected to lie cross-wise on it, sitting against the tub, but she had me turn and lie flat so that my legs extended out along the toilet. My thighs were pressed against the chill base of the porcelain and I could also feel the coldness of the tile floor through the towel. The contrast with the humid atmosphere only added to the sensual charge of the moment and my cock strained, its tip mere inches from the bowl.

The toilet lid was down but Anya, moving with a deliberate slowness, raised both it, and the seat, to the upright position. She then stepped over me and sat down on the bare porcelain rim. I am not really sure why she chose to do it this way. Possibly, she expected the coldness to stimulate her to pee, or something, or, maybe, it just excited her to do it like that. In any event, it excited me, I have to say…

Anya reached behind herself to grasp the rim with both hands and looked deeply into my eyes. She held my gaze for nearly a minute and then her eyes closed and she tiled her head back. I saw a ripple of tension flick across the flat expanse of her tummy and then, all of a sudden, she raised herself slightly and thrust herself forward so that the tangled black tuft of her pubic thatch was just resting on the very front of the rim, mere inches from my throbbing glans.

This time, there were no tentative drops or dribbles., just a sudden solid jet that burst from her gorgeous hairy cunt and struck the head of my cock with sufficient impact to force the whole shaft back. The stream exploded in a shower of spray, splattering my chest and running in rivulets down my swollen member to trickle beneath my thighs and ball-sack.

God… it was SO hot!

That first incredible jet lasted only a few seconds and then stopped abruptly. There was a pause for a moment then Anya tensed again and, with a little grunt of effort, she blasted me again. I can’t say for sure now, but she must have had her eyes open during this part because her aim was incredible. She managed to direct her stream with unfailing accuracy right against the underside of my shaft just beneath the cleft portion of the head. She held it there, the force of the jet thrumming against me so hard and so long that I very nearly ejaculated right then and there. The fleeting thought crossed my mind that she was going to empty herself and have nothing left for me to taste but, instead of finally dribbling to a finish. She managed to cut off the flow. She stood up, her feet wide apart and framed her cunt with both hands.

‘Now,’ she hissed, with desperate urgency, ‘Take my piss in your mouth.’

I needed no further urging and I clambered to my knees, reaching out to grasp the back of her thighs. I bent to her and placed my mouth against her, encircling her tightly. I could smell her now. There was the rich, heady musk of her pussy and, mingled with it, the sharper tang of fresh pee. She grabbed my head and then, with a sudden thrust of her hips, let go into my mouth…

I have to stop for a moment and attempt the almost impossible task of describing the taste. For those, like myself, who have never experienced it, the expectation is that urine must be very salty and acrid but, in fact, it is neither. There is a saltiness, to be sure, but it is faint and there is an almost sweetness to it too. More than that I cannot really say except that even if you could, you'd never describe the taste as being, well… delicious exactly, there is something about it – pheromones, maybe- that makes it compellingly, deeply intoxicatingly arousing and my cock began to jerk madly up and down, making me dangerously close to coming too soon…

Well… I couldn’t have imagined doing so before that moment but I actually drank that hot, heady cocktail. If I had thought about it academically, I might have guessed I would spit, or otherwise let it run from my mouth but I gulped hungrily in two, full swallows. As I did, I dimly heard a sound from Anya, a sound unique to herself, a half groan, half sigh, that she only makes when she is highly aroused.

I looked up at that moment. When I saw that her eyes were glistening, and her face flushed, I knew instantly that she hadn’t really expected me to swallow… that the fact that I had done this most intimate act was deeply, deeply exciting to her. She pulled my face to her dripping thatch once again.

‘More,’ she gasped. ‘I have more…’

My nose was buried deep into her groin, my expectant mouth wide around her opening. Her hips were trembling now and then they jerked as she squired twice into me. Hungrily, I drank back all she had and then I was licking her, sucking the drops of pee from her sopping thatch, and probing her deeply. I thrust my tongue into the hot, satin folds of her vagina and upwards to the hard nubbin of her clit.

‘Oh fuck… oh fuck, you dirty, dirty bastard,’ she moaned.

I felt her knees buckle and she stepped backwards, grabbing wildly for the top of the toilet tank to stop herself from falling. Her other hand was tangled in my hair and she pulled me forward until I was leaning right over the bowl, still licking furiously. Again she moaned and then she came explosively, jerking her hips back and forth for nearly a minute until she was finally spent in a last shuddering series of aftershocks. Abruptly, she pushed me away and regained her composure. My cock was throbbing and straining as I clambered unsteadily to my feet and a quivering string of pre-cum hung precariously from the tip. She grasped the shaft…

‘Clean up the mess and then come to the bedroom,’ she said, her voice tight and thick. ‘You haven’t nearly finished yet…’

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