Exploring Piss on a First Date Pt. 04

When Anna steps out of the shower, the towel wrapped around herself, she listens for Trevor, returning with more drinks. She hears nothing, and ventures into his bedroom, taking a moment to look around. The waterproof blanket is spread out on the bed, waiting for something to begin. Anna still isn't sure if she wants to have sex tonight--but the swelling lips of her pussy remind her that she does need to have an orgasm. However they get there is fine.

Her dress is on the floor of the bathroom, and she decides to slip it back on without panties or a bra on underneath. In the mirror, she fixes her hair and wipes mascara tracks from under her eyes.

She hears Trevor's footsteps coming down the hall, and the excitement of his return sends a fresh wave of urgency over her, forcing her to clench her thighs together before composing herself and coming back out into the bedroom.

His eyes sweep over her body again, assessing her. His small smile tells her that he finds her outfit satisfactory--especially the way his eyes catch on her hard nipples peeking through the thin fabric.

He hands her another glass of water, and takes a sip from his beer. "I poured another shot of tequila into a glass but I wasn't sure if you wanted more, and I didn't want to spill anything coming back up here."

She takes a long sip from the water. "This is good for now," she tells him, suddenly unsure of where to stand, or where to put her hands. Five minutes ago, he was pissing all over her, and now they're both fully clothed and a bit awkward. But the tequila from earlier is still coursing through her, and encourages her to take a step closer to him, laying a hand on his muscular forearm. "Feel better?" she asks, gazing up at him through her lashes.

He nods, his eyes watching her lips. "Mhmm." Then his lips are on hers, and he's deftly taking the glass of water out of her hand and setting it on the dresser beside them, and his kiss is turning hungry and insistent. Her clit responds underneath the thin fabric of her dress, and she moves to position his leg between her own, grinding into him gently to satiate herself. He groans from underneath her lips, and firmly grasps each of her arms, moving them to the edge of the bed and sitting down first, pulling her on top of him. The fabric of his jeans is stiff beneath her bare mound, but it activates a hunger within her when she gently rubs against his bulge. He presses upwards into her, and their mouths are still locked, his tongue exploring her mouth and their breaths hot against each other.

His hands, too, explore Anna's body--one grasping at her ass, the other stroking her side and gently cupping her breast in his palm. She moans, nipping at his bottom lip, before pulling away to grind more insistently, using his hardness beneath her as a way to stop the sudden need to piss. She can feel her juices smearing into the fabric, and when she glances down there's a distinct wet spot over where his erection rests in his pants.

His hands are at her hips as she rocks, and if they weren't full clothed, she would think they were having sex right now. Maybe it's silly to wait for a second date...

Then he flips her onto her back, in a swift motion, and it sends a stab through her, nearly losing control of her bladder. "Warn me next time," she gasps, curling into a ball with a fist jammed between her legs. She can feel wetness, but after assessing for a moment, determines it's just the usual wetness and not a fresh wave of pee.

He's sheepish, gentle all of a sudden with her, tugging the fabric of her dress down so she's not as exposed, and standing before her. "Sorry, got carried away." His gaze drifts down again, to where her hand cups the curve of her vulva, hiding it from him. "Do you have to go badly, or can I...?" he gestures with his fingers, making a familiar "come hither" motion.

She removes her own hand, the sudden wave having passed. "No, that would be nice. Just... be gentle, in case."

"Or don't, right?" he winks, but she understands that he'll do exactly as she says.

She uncrosses her legs, and he pulls her down on the soft blanket by her legs, positioning her hips at the edge of the bed. With one arm, he leans over her torso, and with the other, he lifts the hem of her dress and begins to gently massage the inside of her thigh. She can feel herself leaning into the motion, and already the juices are flowing again.

"Do you want me on the bed more, just in case?" the blanket is so soft and luxurious underneath her, she can't believe it's actually waterproof. Maybe he's lying to her, but why would he?

His fingers have moved to caress the outside of her lips, gently, and she gyrates her hips against him, craving his touch inside of her. "It'll be better for you on the edge like this, with the angle," he says, and she can tell he's well-taught, or has lots of practice. "But if you start feeling like you need to go, just pull yourself higher up."

She nods, and lets out a small gasp as his first fingers work their way into her wetness, smearing it around and nudging at her sensitive bits. One finger circles her clit. He continues the motion but leans down over her, his lips finding hers again. All the sensations converge and her hips spasm against the flutter of desperation pushing in again. His fingers pause but then his palm comes in to press against her, and she presses back into him. "Yes, just like that," she breathes, clenching her thighs around his hand and enjoying the pressure.

His palm continues to press in, but makes small movements that activate her clit, sending a different type of sensation through her. Her breathing is ragged as she informs him, "nobody's ever done this. It feels... amazing." She means the way he's helping her hold on to her desperation, the way he's engaging with it. But she doesn't have the words to say all this.

The encouragement lets him guide just two fingers to her entrance this time, keeping his palm over the rest of her. The fingers draw out more wetness from within her before pushing inside, then pushing further, and entering as deep as they can go without losing the pressure of his palm. And then the fingers get to work slowly massaging within her.

She's moaning now, each breath louder than the next. And she's writhing against him in pleasure, her eyes shut to better experience each individual sensation he gives her. He's not just good at this--he's an expert.

An orgasm is beginning to build within her, and she notices that her legs have begun to shake--she positions her feet to help hold her in place on the edge of the bed, and scoots back just enough to have a few inches on the blanket. His hand followers, the pressure never leaving. Instead, he lifts up and uses the hand not inside of her to help her scoot back father. He's right--being back here isn't quite as good, but it's probably a good idea, now. The way his fingers are stroking her g-spot might mean she'll be a squirter, tonight.

"Don't hold back," he breathes, again positioning himself over her to nibble at her lips, and then dragging his mouth down her neck, into her collarbone. Her hands find her breasts, massaging while she bucks her hips up into his hand. Her moans fill the room, and then a sharp gasp as she loses control--whether it's squirt or piss spraying out from her, she's not sure, but he continues digging deep within her to coax more out. It's squirting up in short bursts, arcing over the blanket beneath her, and landing on Trevor's jeans, coating his thighs.

He pulls his fingers out for a moment to rub in a frantic motion at her clit, and the pleasure makes her scream as another spray comes out, his rubbing making it go everywhere--all over his arm, onto her dress, and over the blanket. It must be squirt, because she still feels enormous pressure within her bladder when he presses gently with his other hand on her abdomen. This motion creates her orgasm, with his fingers back inside of her, and she grips the blanket on either side of her and arches her back, pressing into his fingers and screaming as she comes, legs shaking, another wave of liquid coming out and pooling beneath her.

Trevor continues working his fingers and pressing his palm into her clit, but slows as she comes down from the orgasm, until he's simply rubbing her swollen lips, smearing the wetness all around her. Her moans have subsided to long sighs, and when she opens her eyes she sees Trevor watching her, rapt.

"Thank you," she breathes, raking her hands down her dress to feel how soaked it is--not very, until she gets to where the fabric sits beneath her--wet, very wet. His hands come away from her but reach back to meet hers, sliding underneath her ass to show her the pool she's created. Not to mention the spray of dark stains across his own shirt and jeans.

"You're incredible," he tells her, bringing his hand back to her thigh and wiping his drenched hand along a dry section of her skin. The touch makes her shiver, and she notices the urgency still within her--subsided, surely due to the squirting, but still there.

He helps her sit up, and she can feel more of her dress getting soaked in the back in the process. Their faces are close now, and she brushes a kiss to his lips, soft and slow--she's still recovering. He's gentle with her, his hands finding her hips and holding her steady, and one barely wandering upwards to cup a breast, softly, beneath his palm. It leaves a damp mark on her dress when they pull away.

"I still have to go," she admits, suddenly feeling shy--why now? She looks away, down at the blanket beneath her.

"I figured," he replies, lifting a finger out and tilting her chin up toward him, eyes hungry when they meet hers. "Naughty."

The word sends a thrill through her, and his eye contact is intense, heated. It makes her braver, but she remembers him saying that his past partner feeling shame for squirting turned him on--she can play into her shame, for him.

"I can't believe I got everything so wet. I didn't mean to."

He nods, wordless for a moment as he looks around them, down to his own pants. "Accidents happen," he says, bringing his eyes back to hers. A thrill goes through her again, straight to her clit. "Can you hold it for a little longer?" he asks, his gaze catching on her nipples, hard and visible through the thin fabric of her dress.

She nods to him. "What do you have in mind?"

He steps away and brings her the cup of water from earlier, forgotten on the dresser. "Finish this first."

She does as instructed, and holds the empty glass out for him to take again. His other hand has found the bulge in his jeans, resting a casual hand over it. He sets the glass down and sits on the bed beside her, placing a hand at her waist and nudging her closer to him. She gets the hint, twirling to straddle him so their faces are inches apart, breath mingling. She settles into him easily, feeling the wetness from between her legs soaking into his jeans once more, and fitting her crotch perfectly over where his bulge is, squirming to get the placement just right, and to relieve the pressure. His hands on her back pull her even closer, and she sighs into him, but his mouth closes around hers before she can let the full breath out.

Gradually, he lays on his back, pulling her on top of him, and while they kiss, Anna grinds into him, her swollen pussy lips already hunting for another release. She pulls her face away from his in order to lick his jawbone, his earlobe, his neck.

He gasps and his gentle hands on her back find firm holds on her hips, pushing her down into him harder, his hips coming up to grind harder into her. She moans against his skin, kissing down his neck to the collar of his shirt. He smells like cologne and salty sweat, and when she licks his skin, it's salty and tangy. His groan beneath her is feral, and one of his hands comes up to cup her neck, just under her face--a soft version of a choking motion. She nods down at him, and his hand closes around her throat more firmly. It sends a wave through her, and she loses just enough control that the urgency takes over, and she has to rock into his erection, using him to staunch the impending flow.

When she's regained control, he takes his hand away from her throat to grab at her left boob, squeezing gently and then grabbing for her nipple, taking it between two fingers. She moans again, and the rocking motion with her hips is to feel her own wetness gathering between her legs now, juices flowing directly out from her and onto his jeans. She reaches down to unbutton them, wanting to feel him closer to her. He lets her open his fly and expose the bulge, sitting just under his boxer briefs. But then his hands find hers, stopping them from pulling his cock out.

"Not yet," he breathes, pulling her back down to kiss her lips. They continue to kiss for several more minutes, until Anna's lips feel bruised and swollen, and her pussy lips, grinding against his boxer briefs, are soaked--leaving a wet spot on the fabric of his underwear.

She's had to clench her thighs together several times, and now the desperation has really kicked in--she uses a hand to cup herself, wedging it between their hot genitals to gain access. He watches her squirm over her, and grabs at her wrist, gently tugging so her hand falls away. "Don't hold back, I told you," he says simply.

It's not shocking to learn that Trevor wants her to piss on him, but it turns her on more than she expected--to have someone fully clothed beneath her, in a bed, inviting her to let go... she moans and rubs harder against him. He laughs softly. "You're gonna make me come in my pants," he tells her, easing his hips away from hers to lessen the friction.

"Don't tempt me," she replies, but eases off. Her lips find his again, and this time, when a stab of urgency rockets through her, she doesn't try to hold it in--soon, she feels warmth spreading in the space between their bodies, and she sits up to watch.

He groans loudly, eyes fixed on her. She lifts her dress for him to see better, direct access to her shaved pussy and the spout of urine ejecting from her and directly onto his erection. She gyrates her hips and the stream continues, but splatters over the edge of his underwear, spilling out onto his abdomen. She lifts up then, and the hissing noise as the hard stream hits his soaked underwear makes them both moan. She soaks him, making sure to get his jeans, too. And then she sits back down and continues grinding on him as the piss continues. His breathing is ragged and he bucks his hips against hers, and she can feel her second orgasm building within her.

The hot piss covering their clothes and skin, cascading down onto the bed beneath them... it's a fantasy she's never been able to live out until this moment.

"Fuck, I'm coming," Trevor announces, grabbing at her hips to position her movements perfectly over his shaft. She watches in awe as his cock twitches beneath her now thin stream of urine, and from the soaked fabric of underwear there emerges a glob of cum.

It's all she needs to be sent over the edge herself, and before his orgasm has subsided, hers begins, the final spurts of her piss coming out of her as the spasms rock her, and she rubs at her wet clit, listening to Trevor's groans beneath her and feeling the piss-soaked fabric between their bodies. Her legs are weak, and her clit pulses a final rhythm as she pulls her hand away and collapses onto Trevor's chest, their fast heartbeats matching each other.

to be continued...