"FLOORPISSING": Tyler and Everett -- Part 1 by BadBoyKal
If you enjoy this story, let me know! Your emails are the only way I'll ever know that anybody's so much as read these things... And I think they're turning out good, but I'd love to hear it from you! Email me at thepatternking@gmail.com. Also, consider donating to Nifty to keep it afloat, if you have the means to help.
Everett had just turned elven. He was an only child, and both parents worked, so they'd hired a babysitter ("nanny") to watch him for three or four hours every afternoon. The lucky young guy was 18-year-old Tyler--lanky, seemingly all arms and legs. He had a good attitude, he was an Eagle Scout, and Everett's parents loved that they had found him such a good role model. Both felt completely comfortable entrusting their child to him each day. Best of all, Everett LOVED Tyler! He was always going on about how Tyler was the best babysitter they'd ever had. Tyler always talked to Everett like an equal, never talking down; Everett LOVED when his nanny showed him things that older boys did.
This is a story of precisely one of those times.
The two friends (for this is how they tended to think of themselves, despite the differences in age and authority) had driven to Seneca Park, which was large and flat and open, space for EVERYONE who wanted to play any kind of game whatsoever. Tyler and Everett were throwing a baseball, Tyler offering pointers or encouragement every now and then. (Everett was going to try out for Little League for the first time just a few weeks in the future, and he knew he needed practice on the basics if he was going to make the team.)
They entertained themselves in this fashion for some 45 minutes or so, at which point Tyler noticed Everett's peppiness and general interest level seemed to be waning. "Why don't we stop here," said the babysitter. "Let's walk a lap around the track and talk, and see what all is going on."
"Can we at least get the soccer ball and that way we can dribble it around as we go?"
"Sure thing, Everett. Just don't start complaining once it hits you that a mile and a half is a really long way to dribble."
"Yeah, yeah," Everett gesticulated, rolling his eyes. "If I get tired we just put it back in the car. Easy!"
"Alright, buddy. Fair enough."
The car was close by, and they set out on their walk/dribble presently. They'd begun about in the middle of the enormous field, and once they'd walked a full ¾ mile, they'd be at the same place on the far side of it as they were on their current side then. If they had to go to the bathroom, the tiny building which served for the who broad grassy field was another tenth of a mile or two and then across the field (on the side they were starting out from, that is.)
Somehow the conversation came and filled the long sauntering walk. They spoke of school for Everett (and for Tyler, too); they swapped funny stories that had happened with their extended family... Everett even stopped dribbling and turned to Tyler to confess, blushing, that there was a girl in his class he liked (and this was his first time liking someone like that). Tyler shared his own two cents about relationships, especially his present one of two years.
In this manner the walked passed rather quickly. Before they knew it they'd arrived at the point opposite where their car was; at this point Tyler spotted the restroom "cottage" and spoke up "Hey, kiddo, I gotta pee. What about you? You gotta go, too?"
He hadn't been thinking about it, but, sure enough, Everett had a bit of pressure on his bladder. "Yeah, sure"; and, they changed course, crossing the field.
In the course of that crossing Tyler seemed uncharacteristically withdrawn, terse... Everett wonder what was happening with him. But presently Tyler spoke up to explain. "Everett, there's something I wanna show you that I think you'll like... it's something lots of boys do once or twice in middle school or high school. It's something we could do in the bathroom."
"Well, okay, Tyler. That's fine."
"Well, I didn't tell you the serious part yet. The thing about what I'm hoping to show you is completely against the rules. If you got caught you could get in real trouble at school, or, in theory, even get citation or a charge from a police officer! I don't want to do it at all unless you're sure you understand to be very careful, and never to talk about it except with boys your own age... it should be fine with them."
Everett was very intrigued, mystified, even. What could this thing be? Sure, Tyler bent and stretched the rules for Everett all the time, he was cool like that--but he hadn't thought he would do something really serious.
"What is this thing?" Tyler asked. "If you think it's cool then I'll do it, I trust you... If you say I'll like it then I prob'ly will. I mean, I like most everything you show me. But this sounds really serious, Tyler! I don't want to go to JAIL!"
Stopping short, Tyler exclaimed "Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah whoah! I musta totally said the wrong words, I'm afraid. Don't worry, Everett--it's not that big of a deal. It's not a crime or anything, just a little mischief. Naughty fun. Seriously, forget I even mentioned the cops. It's a risky thing to do, but that's what makes it so exciting.
"So, Everett... Are you in?"
"I guess so, but... Can you just tell me what it is?"
"It's called 'floorpissing.'" By this point the pair were less than twenty yards from the bathroom building. It was seriously tiny for the size of the park. Inside everything was on the right side of the room: Sink, hand-dryer, one old steel urinal, a regular stall, and a handicapped stall. But this place was NOT the nicest bathroom you'll find, and was a far cry even from being the best park bathroom you'll find. The whole floor was made of rough concrete; the walls of the room and also the stalls were of cinderblocks; the doors were thick metal, painted over innumerable times and at present having landed on a very dark green. There was a sizeable wet spot--almost a puddle--in front of the urinal, and Tyler knew from experiences like the one he was just about to share with his young friend that there was usually a large puddle of water in one of the corners of the handicapped stall, too. A drain in the center of the floor completed the picture of skieviness and squallor. <There really couldn't be a better location for Everett's first time than this,> thought Tyler, with pleasure.
The moment he crossed the threshhold into that room, Tyler BOUNDED down to the stalls and bent over, checking for feet on the floor in each of them. They got lucky that there were none.
Poor Everett couldn't understand Tyler's agitation and sense of hurry--but finally Tyler was starting to explain the thing. "So, it's called floorpiss, and it's just what it souds like. You piss on the floor, or the walls, or the toilet paper--anywhere you like except absolutely NONE in the toilet or the urinal. Got it?"
"What does 'piss' mean?" The babysitter had to laugh.
"'Piss' just means "pee." It's a cooler way to say it and I recommend you say it every time around kids in your grade... It'll make you cooler. It's considered a 'bad word' though. Kinda like 'shit.'"
"Okay--wait--are you telling me the thing is we're just gonna pee all over the place except not in the toilet?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Now, let's hurry up and get the deed done. There's a bunch of people in the park today and literally any second that door could fly open and leave us caught. It's a bummer the room's so small.
"Now, here's what I was thinking: You do it in the handicapped stall and I'll do it in the open part of the room near the back wall. The handicapped stall has a puddle of water always in it in one corner, so if you wanna ease your way into it you can just add to that same puddle. Sound good?"
Everett couldn't believe his babysitter was seriously encouraging him to break every rule of bathroom conduct! This was definitely a side of him Everett hadn't seen. He was a little stressed... a little overwhelmed... yet, he had to admit, it somehow sounded kinda cool. "Look at me, I'm too cool for toilets." "Look at how brave I am, flaunting every normal term of decency." And who didn't like making a mess, in any event?
It was only because of his immense trust of Tyler that Everett had the courage and the willingness to act on what he now saw was highly time-sensitive. "Yeah, that sounds real good. Why wouldn't you take the other stall, though?"
Well, first off, I'm old hat at floorpissing... I like the extra excitement of being out in the open where I could get caught any minute! Secondly, to stay near to you, in case you need anything or want to show me your work, or anything. The teen clapped his hands together as though he were praying. Okay, so, we're good? We really better get this show on the road, big guy! We've been talking way to long.
With that, both strode to the rear of the room; Everett grabbed the handle of the stall door and pulled; it SLAMMED back against the frame, startingly the young guy. He checked out his surroundings: the stall was about six feet square, and in the right corner immediately adjacent to the door was the puddle his babysitter had promised. The toilet was set off to the right, close to that wall and its T.P. dispenser--this left a good--oh, four feet of open space to the left of the toilet. Yes, there was definitely no shortage of places for his pee--piss, piss--to fall.
Easing into it like Tyler'd said was a good idea. 'Cause, frankly, he'd gotten a little overwhelmed. He strode tentatively right up to the edge of that puddle, and--trembling--undid belt and fly, finally fishing out his little white boy-cock. He looked down at it, and at the puddle, and seemed to be unconvinced. He tried to piss, then, but nothing came out. Meanwhile he heard the bright sound of the splashing of his role model's "floorpiss." He closed his eyes, willing the piss to start coming. After a moment, it did! Everett's "clear and copious" urine splashed loudly in the puddle that was a good three-eighths-inches deep, with that same bright sound as Tyler's was making--apparently pissing into a puddle is always more musical and echoey than pissing into a toilet bowl.
As Everett got his feet under him, he resolved to be a bit more daring and see if this was really his kind of thing or not. Anxiety formed a knot in his gut, but at last he moved his stream out of the puddle, to the left, onto the dry part of the floor. Everett liked what he saw, what he was doing! He admired the shape of ever splash, from all the points of the floor he was covering. Suddenly he was having real fun-- getting totally into this mischievous act. Naughty determination eclipsed anxiety as his primary emotion (If it weren't for the fact that he had not yet hit puberty, he would've known part of these feelings as horniness.) Finally, something like slap-happiness came upon him then, and he decided he would get as much of that stall as he freakin' could before he ran out--quickly he darted to the wide-open left side of the stall, tracing loops and zigzags on the concrete. That area being basically well hit, Everett spend the last of his bladderfull on the rear wall of the stall, changing the cinderblocks' color from light gray to slate. <Wow, that was somethin'!>, he thought, filled with inexplicable joy and well-being. He certainly hadn't expected all these feelings, but then again he'd had all of two minutes or less to think about floorpissing before actually doing it. But, somehow, he felt like he mattered more, like he was higher version of boy compared to all of those who'd never done this. He felt he was actually breathing easier, even.
These thoughts went by in seconds; immediately, then, he put his dick up, zipped up, and buckled up, before hurriedly rushing to check on Tyler outside the stall, who, if the sound was any indication, had not yet finished his floorpiss.
Shyly he edged around the stall door and saw his 18-year-old babysitter holding a man's cock. Everett quickly saw what he had done with his bladder juice: the WHOLE back wall was coated, dripping; there was a very sizeable (and not shallow, either) puddle he had pissind into the corner; he seemed to have done waves up and down with his stream on the left wall. Then, it appeared he had meandered, trying to cover as much space as possible but not necessarily covering it 100%.
When Everett came out, Tyler was waddling backwards, swaying left and right and moving his penis along with it. But, suddenly, Tyler did something hot that Everett wasn't expecting: he turned a 180, exposing his pissing cock right in clear view of the doorway!Finding that the amped up risk was fun enough, he just pissed the rest of his bladder into one, again, by-no-means-puny puddle ('bout level with the one urinal).
Everett had been really taken in with the thrill of Tyler's floorpiss, to the point that he hadn't even thought yet about the pretty meaningful fact that he had now seen his nanny's penis up close. ¡What was more, unless in his youth he didn't know what he was talking about, it sure seemed like Tyler's penis had gotten hard!
Tyler interrupted what had apparently become a reverie; Tyler remained planted right where he'd been, slowly stroking his 6.2-inch tool. It was obvious that the kid was totally ga-ga now, seeing his role model make an enormous mess in a respectable public facility--but, really, Tyler knew, it was the cock. He prob'ly hadn't seen many--maybe he had seen none! (well, hard, anyway!).
"Hey, Everett! Come over here." Tyler's voice was soft, but clearly commanding; forth he came.
He stopped fully two feet away from the teenager and his man-meat; Tyler had to add "closer." With that, Tyler dropped his own hand from his dick, reached out with his right hand for his charge's right hand, and guided it directly on the shaft of his teen penis. Tyler kept his hand on Everett's, and brought it up, and down; up, and down... He didn't think it was quite the right time to get off, though of course it was tempting; the truth was they were still in a very exposed position, and Tyler had the problem of "jail-bait" to worry about (much more serious a risk than being caught having floorpissed, Tyler suddenly recalled!). Shit.
With a new urgency, Tyler lifted his young friend's hand OFF his cock and let go of it. Then, squirming a little with the new anxiety he was glad he'd remembered about before they'd gone any further, this lanky young man shoved his boner as best he could into his boxer-briefs, and zipped and buckled up: "Let's get out of here!" he called out--and with no further ado they flitted out, mission very much accomplished (and what amazing luck, too, that they weren't interrupted and caught.
"Oh, Everett! I didn't get to see your work!"
"My 'work'?"
"You know, the job you did in there. the results of your floorpiss! Man, I am so sorry for that. I was tied up in my own stuff, and the risk..."
"It's okay," said the younger boy. I think I did it just right. I started in the puddle that was already there, but then I got most of the stall floor and also the back wall."
"Nice!" Tyler gives him a high-five.
"So, how did you like it."
"Gosh, it was amazing, I don't even think there are words for it... I feel... so good, so empowered... strong, maybe... Tyler, I liked it a lot. Thank you for showing it to me."
"Awesome, little bro. Glad you liked it. Now that we both agree, we can do our best to try to get it done once every day--or every day we leave home, anyway. It doesn't have to be a shitty bathroom--nice ones can be really exciting. I'm thinking the mall, or a restaurant, or the airport, or Home Depot... You can always do a floorpiss, 'cause the only thing you need is already attached to you for good. Oh, school's a great place for it, too. You can be sneaky and never get caught, but it's much more fun to actually do it in front of other boys... they'll treat you like a fuckin' hero, Everett."
Idly the pair walked further down the huge oval fielding, drifting and talking. It was time, already--right then to bring up the jailbait issue. And talk about sex stuff more broadly, too.
"Hey, Everett... something happened back there that I need to talk about with you. It's nothing you did--it's really more like something I did. It's really important, though.
"There are strict laws against adults doing sex stuff with children. The law says even if the children are okay with it and want to be doing it, it's still a crime--it's called 'statutory rape.' Then there's laws against child molestation. I could literally go to jail for years for what I just did with you, having you feel my cock. I just wasn't thinking. But in the future, stuff like that can't go on in any public place, even if we've just done a floorpiss and get hard. Got it?"
"Yes," was Everett's serious and earnest reply.
"Now, I don't want you to think just because they have those laws that we're never gonna mess around. (Do you understand 'mess around'? No? It's, like, playing with our penises... doing sex stuff.) My PERSONAL opinion is that you are old enough to express yourself whether you want to do things like that or not. What do you think about the idea of 'messin' around,' Everett?"
The youngster was suddenly embarassed and almost seemed to have lost his voice. "Well, I, I mean, I don't know... I mean... *TYLER I WANT TO TOUCH YOUR WEINER AGAIN!" What a blurt.
Tyler laughed. "Well, okay, kiddo! That is what I like to hear. I thought you would want that. Don't worry, it'll happen. In fact, we've got two more hours until your parents come home... maybe we can pick up where we left of... hehehe." He grinned wolfishly, carnivorously.
"Oh, but, right--I forgot to finish talking about the how of messing around, not the whether. So, the "how" is this: strictly at home, or at my place, or other safe non-public places. I'm talking draw the curtains, clean up all evidence afterward (whatever that may mean). And here, Everett, this is the most important part--and it might be a big ask, but it's just absolutely CRUCIAL: Whatever sex stuff we ever do together, don't tell ANYONE. Not Jeremy [Everett's best friend], not any kid at school, not your family, not your doctor, not other people you mess around with: NO ONE. (I guess the only exception would be if you confessed it to a priest--'cause they're sworn to secrecy... hehehe.) You got it, Everett? You gotta be 100% sure on this."
"Everett remained quiet for a long moment. "It will be hard to not tell Jeremy. Anything sex-wise I do I wanna be able to share with him. Everybody else--yeah, that's fine. I prob'ly wouldn't wanna be telling people, anyhow. I understand what you're saying. I would never want you to be locked up!"
"Of course not, buddy. So, just Jeremy, you think... Maybe that would work. Has he kept secrets for you before?"
"Uh-huh"
"And did he ever tell other people those things?"
"No, Tyler! Tyler, I trust Jeremy with my life. His is my brother. What I think I'll do is explain to him about the laws and be sure he understands what that means."
Tyler had come to a new idea that might solve this: "Everett, I know what I wanna do. I want you to have Jeremy over directly after school one day this week. And I wanna talk to him, and see if he really is the kind who will always keep his mouth shut. I'll only tell him the vaguest things, like that we did something that I could really get in trouble for, and I'll explain the laws and how important it is. But, meanwhile, until we do that, not a word! Okay? Don't go rushing to Jeremy telling him you touched my cock. Wait. Okay?"
Everett replied with a certain level of exasperation "YES, TYLER!"
They'd reached the bottom end of the long oval field and turned around, doubling back on the path that led right past the bathrooms. (It was the quickest way back to Tyler's car.) Both boys got quite a kick out of watching the traffic around the bathrooms. First a black man about sixty went in... then, a high-school cross country team came by, and stopped for a water break--and three of the boys went in to use the bathroom. Both boys, despite the vast differences in their ages and experiences, felt giddy inside as they daydreamed of the restroom-goers being angry and shocked, or, the high schoolers being maybe more respecting it, even thinking it's cool. But, on they walked.
At last the two were simply silent for a while, each in his own thoughts.
"Hey, Everett," Tyler called. "As long as you don't tell anyone, including Jeremy...We can still go home and explore a little bit more of our, uh, body parts."
Everett giggled. "I know I can think of at least one part of your body that I'd really like to get to know better."
"Lemme guess: it's my cock?"
"Well, OBVIOUSLY," the cute preteen patronized
"...That can definitely be arranged," responded the young adult, as he unlocked the car for the ride home.
TO BE CONTINUED