"FLOORPISSING": The Great Finals Locker-pissing Capers by BadBoyKal
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Disclaimer: This (all of these) are not proofread or edited prior to my having them posted. Please refrain from judging me for any errors they may contain.
I finally get to some butt-sex in this part.
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Jeremy looked pretty fly, the back of his tight calves pushing back against the hem of his purple basketball shorts. His ¾-length orange-and-heathered-grey shirt send that rest of the message: this kid came from a nice family... this kid had influence.
Of course that was all of him you'd see at the moment, because he was standing up next to a urinal--last in its row, emptying his hose from the tangle of brown pubic hair that gave birth to his 15-year-old cock. Next to him, on his left, happened to be none other than Mr. Floorpisser himself, Peter. Consciously deciding he didn't give a fuck if he thought him gay, he turned his head and made eye contact with the boy. "Hey, Peter--have you heard of 'the Great Finals Locker-pissing capers'?"
Peter broke eye contact to adjust his boy-tool, slanting his body open toward Jeremy in order to ensure that the last 30% of his bladder wound up on the floor. The school may've made it harder to do the real evocative floorpisses (in the current climate, anyway), but Peter thought it was important to stand on principles. It was not just a matter of doing what was right, remember: it was also about his reputation. Therefore he did this with each "non-floorpiss" load he ejected, insisting on at least 10% of his liquids be put to better use than entering the plumbing. And he always did it just like that, tilting his whole body, so the other boys could see without question what he was doing and give him the respect for it that he'd earned.
So with Peter's cock still pissing away at the tiles at Jeremy's feet (and in fact, his Nikes were getting a bit splattered!)--while Jeremy still held his own piss pizzle and continued emptying it into the urinal, Peter said "No! But if it is anything like what I think it sounds like, I, I - I--I reckon I just might be interested." He sealed his self-caricature with a wink.
Jeremy backed up a step but left his unit out for the moment, elastic under the balls (like you do). He'd done it to be free to gesticulate while he spoke, but Peter's attention quite seriously went out the window the moment he suddenly had a new, sexy, uncut teenage cock to stare down. His confidence--which had already been pretty high due to his even-keeled temperament, had lately gone through the roof. His... "stature" in the class meant that he could, without hesitation or fear, stare directly at a classmate's cock in public, making no attempt to hide what he was doing. He did it constantly nowadays, even including every single day in the gym locker-room. Some bros thought he was gay, and he didn't really care. Maybe he was, even.
"Yo!... Peter! Uh... my face is up here" Jeremy found himself saying, slightly annoyed and a touch bewildered. He'd never thought he'd need to use that line in his life, having been born a man!
"Look, bro... I wanna hear about this 'caper,' I do... but I think the needs of this little beauty between your legs is a little bit more urgent." He stepped forward and grabbed all of Jeremy's junk in his right hand, mashing it around, then squishing his own junk (now hard) against Jeremy's. Blindsided, this move took Jeremy's breath away momentarily; to his complete and utter shock (and not entirely to his comfort, Peter leaned right in to Jer's face and stuck his tongue right directly in the other boy's mouth. Jeremy had never kissed anyone, much less a boy, and Peter himself had only done it two other times (both in the last two weeks: one of them a boy)--but, kinda instinctively, you could say, he fought back against the tongue invasion and decided in an instant that this was pretty cool, making out (not to mention the attention his cock was receiving as it rose to full mast). Other boys shook their heads, exhaled derisively, or turned the other way, as Peter (at least four inches taller than Jeremy, btw) basically PUSHED Jeremy all the way into the handicapped stall. The five-incher in his hand was indeed a worthy piece of the boy to be pushing by, Peter thought, if pushing it had to be.
This was simply the new Peter, everyone understood. It wasn't the first time they'd seen such things in school bathrooms, and it wouldn't be the last. Peter was as randy as every other fourteen-year-old there, but he had the inexplicable advantage of having solidified his social position and confidence so strongly that not even a completely 100% gay and 'forced' sexual encounter in a public space at school was gonna be able to knock him down! They all knew it, accepted it, and mostly envied it: Peter got to live by Peter's rules.
Peter held the stronger but shorter boy in both arms now, holding his chest close to his own. 'Twould be only his second "hook-up" in a handicapped bathroom stall... it was gonna be a little hard to get comfortable. At first he lowered Jeremy onto the toilet seat and tried kind of leaning on top of him...: that didn't work. They wanted to keep kissing, not just find a position for sucking or fucking. After a minute Peter said, "Jeremy, do you trust me?"
"Um, yeah...? Wha-what are you thinking?"
"Oh, I just have a different idea for how to do this. Stand up!" He did so at once, and again Peter held him in both arms. Then, Peter gently, softly, dipped the fit brunet right onto the floor on his back, while Peter himself took a knee and then two; finally, when Jeremy was down, Peter lay down softly on top of him--oh, yes sirree Bob: the floor of the boys' bathroom of a middle school. The trio filled the whole right wall of the stall, their heads tucked right beneath the bulge and curve of the toilet; each boy spotted, within the first ten seconds, at least five things about this position that were disgusting and wrong, and, yet, strangely, the nasty factor seemed to only add to the high not just for Peter but for Jeremy too. It felt so raw and wrong to be slabbed down on the cold granite floor by a tall, handsome, sweet, agressive classmate suitor; Jeremy was turned on not only from the grossness itself, but especially from watching how he had ALLOWED Peter to do all these things just because he wanted to, and hadn't resisted or so much as asked a single question. This is TOTALLY new territory to him, and he was surprised over and over again that it seemed so right, so naturally, just, him.
The boys continued tongue-fighting inside their mouths, as Peter humped Jeremy from above, grinding his hard-on up and down. Jeremy decided that he may as well enjoy Peter's body as much as Peter was enjoying his: he moved his right hand from back near his head straight onto Peter's formidable piece. <Wow,> he thought, in his mind--while, out loud, he gasped! He had never touched another guy's hard dick before, and had had no idea it would be so HOT! As open as Jeremy was to new experiences, he hadn't had any reason to think he might be gay thus far in his life... judging by what was happening right then, though, he figured he'd now have to call himself bi! (His body had fully responded the moment Peter'd starting pushing him toward the stall, anyway!) Meanwhile, Peter got chills at the touch of the other boy--his horniness doubled, and as Jer gasped he let out a low, gleeful laugh--not quite believing that his life really was this fuckin' awesome and sexy!
Jeremy found that he was comfortable with this already; he was feeling pretty horny and he wanted to up the ante. On a whim he grabbed a whole big chunk, a whole handful of Peter's exposed ass--and, fuck! did it ever make him hotter. Peter made an "mmmm" sound and then raised his mouth up fro Jer's, looking him in the eyes and saying "You like that? You like my ass, man?" "Fuck yeah!" "Okay, well... you wanna fuck it?"
Behind his casual and in-control tone, Peter was hiding something: the fact that he was still a virgin. He knew he liked guys (but no labels), and had done a good bit of watersports with them, a tiny bit of cocksucking (without cumming), a few handjobs (more often than not without cumming), and now making out (for only his second time). It turned him on, went to his head, that all the other guys thought he was already a fully-fledged gay slut. But he had much left to discover. All talk of fucking aside, even, there was the fact that at this point Peter had not yet even tasted his own piss, much less drink from another!
At this point the bathroom was empty except for the two of them; the bell had just wrung and so these intrepid explorers of ours are officially late for class. It was agreed wordlessly that, whatever, they didn't care. They kept making out and grinding into each other's dicks, and Jeremy had double-fistfulls of Pete's hard round teen boy ass. He was imagining what it would be like to fuck it. He had always assumed his first time fucking would be with a girl. He reasoned that maybe that was how his real first time would be--the special one, the sacred one... but maybe, he thought, he could mess around as much as he wanted with guys and have it never count against his virginity! In fact, he could get better at fucking by fucking other guys, so he'll already know how to do it well when the real time came! The rationalizations unwound swiftly like this, through his head--: his other head, meanwhile, had made the decision minutes ago already!
Breaking the tongue-kiss with a turn of his head to the right, Jeremy said. "Yeah, okay. I'll do it. I'll fuck you. Keep it to yourself, though. I don't want to make people think I'm gay. And, for the record, I'm not gay. I like girls. I have crushes and fantasies on girls. But apparently I like guys too, so I guess that makes me bi. Or, whatever--just not gay."
For a moment perfectly serious, Peter looked him in the eye and said simply "Okay. You have my word." With that Peter pushed up off of Jeremy and stood up. "Okay, so how are we gonna do this?"
"Okay, so you... put your hips on the front edge of the toilet seat, ass facing up and out, and stabilize yourself with your arms either on the plumbing or the wall. And then I'll go behind you with my legs spread wide against the partition wall corners, and lean down into you, and brace myself with arms extended against the wall. It'll be perfect."
First Peter took the liberty of removing his shorts and underwear, leaving on t-shirt and shoes. Jeremy decided to do the same (and they formed little piles in the far corner). Immediately they tried the position and it worked. Jeremy's cock was lined right up with Pete's hole, and he had plenty of room to move his hips back and forth.
"Okay... uh... do I need to do anything first, or?"
"Why don't you start by fingering me? Before even that, though, we need lube. Spit a big lougie in my hole, and cover your fingers with more spit." He did so and starting first with his right pointer finger. He was surprised how tight it was, and how warm. Somehow it wasn't like he expected.
Peter exhaled in pleasure. This fingering part felt pretty good, anyway. After a minute he told Jer to use two fingers (finding that to be a little less pleaureable, but not downright painful). Peter was impatient, though. He really wanted to get fucked, despite all the stigma and possible problems that raised. He knew he should go for three fingers, but instead he just told Jer "that's good. Just go ahead with the real thing, please. But add as much more spit as you can."
Jeremy's hard-on had flagged slightly during the reorganization and fingering part, but as soon as Peter said those words it went surging back to full mast: 4½ inches, 'bout an inch in diameter (and still growing). His boner stuck out almost painfully from his groin. He spat in Pete's hole, then spat in his hand and rubbed his cockhead in it--And then, all the sudden, it was the moment of truth.
"Okay, Peter, I'm ready. Here goes." And then Peter felt Jeremy's cockhead on the outer edge of his hole.
Jeremy pushed.
The cockhead went right in (lucky shot). Peter screamed. It hurt! Thank God the halls were empty now, and all the classroom doors most likely closed. Jeremy felt bad, but he didn't really wanna pull out or anything. He was just about to get going!
"Wait! Wait--just hold it there." Jeremy obliged--but, man, was he relieved when after a few moments on pause he heard Peter say, "alright, go on." }:)
Jeremy just slid his meat right on into his classmate's, then. He merely leaned on his cock and felt it sink slowly in, deeper and deeper, more and more of it being engulfed. It felt GOOD. He was savoring every sensation.
That first long 'thrust' in seemed to last forever; both boys were literally holding their breath without knowing it. When Jeremy bottommed out inside Peter, however, it was time to get down to FUCKING! He pulled back, and then THRUST in all at once! In no time he found a rhythm, and it was a fast one. It was fun to see that he was literally MAKING Peter moan and gasp with every stroke. He kinda had some power in this: It was awesome!
He decided he'd also play with Peter's cock while fucking him--so he pushed off the wall with his hands and instead put all his weight on Peter: On his ass and on his back. (If he didn't like supporting his weight, well, too bad :-P.) It came up quickly, though: "I'm cumming! What should I do?" Peter was glad he had asked, because he had an answer. He'd recently started tasting his own semen and was hoping to try other guys', too.
"Quick, stand up and let me in front of you! I want you to shoot it all in my mouth!" Jeremy had NOT been expecting that, but it was fine, he guessed. In no time Pete was on the floor, head of Jer's cock in his mouth, as Jer flailed it with his fist like a madman. "Okay... here it comes... I'M CUMMING!"
Both boys were VERY satisfied. Peter still had to get off and decided to take care of it himself, real quick... wouldn't be hard while he was savoring his first mouthful of another boy's sperm.
"I'm gonna jack off real quick. Do you want my cum?" Jeremy shook his head. Standing and facing the wall to Jeremy's right, right in front of the toilet, Peter did the deed in less than a minute. He was very pleased to have the pleasure of making a little mess with his cum, just like he liked to do with his piss... He pounded his long, slender, wand-like dick until it erupted massively onto the wall before him. He was still new and a little uneasy about all this gay stuff (he wasn't about to tell Peter how to cum), but he had to admit that Peter making a cummy mess was just as much of a turn-on as watching a guy floorpissing.
For a precious few moments there was silence and stillness. Then Peter said "that was awesome." "Agreed," Jeremy replied. "But, just, please don't tell anyway about anything but the making out (the part that other kids actually saw)." "Okay," said Peter. "Don't worry."
Underwear and pants back on, and presently the two were ready to go on to class. Peter had biology and Jeremy had English. As they were opening the stall door again (at last), something popped into Peter's brain, though: "Oh, Jeremy, I had totally forgotten!: What was it you wanted to tell me before I attacked you with my tongue (lol)? Something about floorpissing and lockers?"
The other kid was suddenly effusive! "Oh, God, right! I forgot all about it, too! Lol. But dude, you're gonna REALLY like this idea. So far it's three of us. So you know how on Friday we're hosting the High School Basketball Association Tournament Finals game on Friday? Us versus Westerpoint? Well, I decided this is gonna be my opportunity to piss all up inside a locker. It's SUCH a big fantasy--just letting loose all over another random person's stuff, while they're gone. I haven't ever tried it, though, mostly because it's obviously meaner than floorpissing 'cause it targets just one person. But I have decided that I'm okay with doing it--as long as the victim is someone I got something against. So, here's what I've decided: You, me, all the guys we can get, sneak into the 'AWAY' locker room in the middle of the game, open up lockers 'til we all have found one that's occupied that we wanna piss up, and go for it! Nobody needs to know that we're doing it for the joy and the glory of it, 'cause people will assume it's just a prank because of our rivalry with them! It's a perfect caper! Don't you think?"
Peter was flabbergasted, but as he'd listened to Jer talk a slow, broad smile spread slowly across his face. "Genius. Bro, you know what this is all about. Game recognizes game. I would be honored to participate with you," Peter pronounced,"in the Great Finals Locker-pissing Capers. And with your permission, I'd like to spread the word to grow our numbers. No one in their right mind'd turn down this chance. Heck, I think my only worry is that we get SO MANY guys signed on that the mob of us get's caught before even entering the locker room. But I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
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It's Friday night, and the boys are gathering for the "Capers." They've snuck out of the stands and out of the gym, one by one, citing need to use the restroom or desire to stretch their legs. They'd decided to meet in the 'HOME' locker room, which is just one set of double doors away from the bathroom that opens onto the gym. Over ten or fifteen minutes, they've staggered their exits, each pretending to piss for exactly as long as any non-floorpisser guys are in the bathroom--but then pushing through to the locker room just as soon as can be. Now there are eight: Just four more. All are quiet and tense; the one's who've waited the longest are getting stir-crazy and overexcited about the job; more than one boy has a bladder that feels it might burst. Fluorescent lighting seems to amplify the anxiety of the moment.
Presently three more have drifted in; just when certain of them start to think that surely, they will wet their pants tonight, the last guy arrives. Immediately they move. They walk past the showers, through the bathroom area, into the zone of the actual lockers, to the "front door" of the 'HOME' locker room. Jeremy, the mastermind of this Caper, leads the pack. He pulls open the door and swings it open as he passes, not looking to see if it was caught... but it was, and the pattern continues on by one, 'til the last one--Ariel--is through. There's a short passage through a darkened school, as the group makes it to the "main entrance" door to the 'AWAY' room. Thanks to all that is holy, the door is unlocked, and the group file in as quickly and silently as they may. There is a hallway of some 30 feet which heads left before opening on the portion of the lockerroom with actual lockers. The boys congregate here, perfectly silent, waiting 'til they're all together before starting on the main event. Finally Ariel enters. "You're the last one?" Jeremy asks quietly. Ariel nods. "Okay, then. Here goes!"
Rounding the wall which forms the hallway, they're faced with 48 lockers: two rows of 12 each; a bank like this on the left, and one like it on the right. For the first time in ages Jeremy talks at full volume: His voice booms!: "Okay, Boys! You know what came here to do! Find a worthy way to spend your bladder! PISS AT WILL!"
The boys closest to the first few lockers immediately open them--and of those first four, two are rewarding. Some guys spread out and start looking from the opposite end; some guys go with the first one in use, while others "shop around" for one that might be particularly fun to piss up--or just one that feels right. Within five seconds of Jer's announcement, the first streams have begun dribbling down through the Westerpoint's clothes; it seems they've come straight from school (or from a post-school practice sesh), 'cause nearly every last occupied locker contains shorts or pants and a t-shirt they'd've worn to school!
Sebrand has his very own original plan, and there is laughter as the other boys notice/catch on. Instead of looking in the bottom row of lockers like all the rest, he opens one after another of the top-row ones! He runs through a whole seven in a row ("Hey, Sebrand, you find anything yet?") before at last there is one that's in use! Now, Sebrand's plan could only work, of course, 'cause he was one of the guys who REALLY had to go! He was counting on having so very much piss that, from a position standing on the bench a good 2½ feet away from the locker door, he'd be able to arch his stream all the way into the locker--and not just in it, mind you, but ALL UP AND DOWN IT. The dude got great points for ambition.
By the time Sebrand finds his target, seven other boys are already pissing (and you can hear the giggles, the "whee!"s, the "Ha-ha!"s... the "check this out"s, the "Wow!--This is fun"s (of the floorpissing virgins), the "soak up all my piss you motherfuckers, how you like that?"s). The other four are looking for the last hidden bottom-row lockers, having either not found one at all yet or (more likely) having passed on one that another guy came in to claim after that. It happens that there are only three more in-use lockers, for four boys. Daniel and Zach are the last two, and realize their predicament. "Wanna share?" Zach asked.
"You know what? Actually--nevermind. You keep it. I'll just do me a straight floorpiss. I'm straight!"
When Sebrand found that in-use top-row locker, just past the middle of the bank, he wasted no time. Maneouvering around pissing classmates on both sides, he steps right up onto the bench, walks down to it, undoes his belt (so his jeans and his briefs fall ankleward) and grips his cock. "Fore!" he yells just before the stream emerges; being sloppy and dopey as he was, he didn't particularly care about the fact that almost surely he'd piss on Scott as the latter pissed up the locker one to the right and down. All in good fun... although Scott was unlikely to think so!
His arch grew quickly, leaving only a dribble, a splash, down Scott's left side and back before becoming big enough to reach its target. There was a small toiletry bag, unzipped, with deodorant, soap, baby powder and the like... this was lying on the locker floor, and into it and its contents was the first place Sebrand's stream went. Giggling, he waved it back and fourth, soaking every item in the pouch and then pausing to just let it fill up some with piss! But he determinedly bore down some more and kicked his arch up to the next energy level, because he wanted to reach the kid's clothes in there, as well! These were a pair of black jeans, bright green athletic shorts, red boxers, and a windbreaker! Gloriously our hero made it work! his stream extended so it struck all these clothes hanging up right in the middle. Back and forth and back and forth he waved his cock and stream, soaking each one--the ending with a few herculean blasts that sprinkled, just a little bit, the top parts of the clothes (at the hooks).
Most boys there--10 out of 12--had an experience like this: You furtively, naughtily open the locker door and get hyped up on malice for the dude whose things they are. Still focussing on the hated objects, you unzip your pants, unbuckle your belt, and withdraw your flaccid cock. You step back slightly so you have room to play with the stream a little. You aim and piss. The rush is immediate.
You make short work of the average of three objects of clothes, either hanging or piled up at the bottom of the locker. You get another, perhaps deeper rush when you go out of your way to splash on the couple of non-clothes belonging: cell phones, watches, toiletries... agendas or school books. Then, presently, you find that you're barely halfway through and the Locker Caper job is done! You're proud of what you've done so far, but to continue in the same litte space--though you might do that--just wouldn't be as much fun as expanding your territory. So, what's a boy to do? You back all the way up to the bench and start pissing on the floor. (Perhaps you stumble backwards into sitting upon the bench, and accidentally make a small mess on your own pants!) You piss on the floor, and you turn to your left and start walking, and keep pissing on the floor. You run into your buddy or three who are likewise wandering through this clusterfuck and pissing on the floor. If you're smarter than the average bear, you don't wander at all, but turn to the bench, covering it as far as you can reach and then turning your dwindling stream back toward right in front of you so that it, too, goes on the bench.
When all the other boys had already turned their backs on the mess and were headed back into the darkened school, Jeremy paused a moment to reflect on his event. The entire space of the lockers were simply drenched with piss-- it covered the floors, it oozed out of ugly gaping locker-doors, it dripped down painted aluminum and shone brightly on locker-room benches. In short, it could not have gone any better, and he was proud of this. This would be one for the record-books.
THE END
Wanted to let you guys know that (as you'll have guessed, I hope), I'm trying to incorporate more regular sex into these stories (and also more regular watersports (piss drinking)). Stick with me and reach out.