Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.watersports Organization: The Pipeline Lines: 14 Message-ID: 4748as$mom@pipe1.nyc.pipeline.com NNTP-Posting-Host: pipe1.nyc.pipeline.com
I awoke and realized a huge cock was in my mouth. It was taking a relentless piss down my 19 year old throat. It was swallow or drown. I started gulping down the gushing, salty stream, and looked up to see the source of this sudden assault and realized it was the big Italian cop that had arrested me for hustling the corner of 53rd and 3rd the night before. I was in a jail cell in the 51st Precinct, it was the middle of the sultry summer night, and my sweat-covered left arm was handcuffed to the bars. "Drink piss, you fuckin' faggot whore!" he barked at me when he saw I was awake, and slapped me - hard enough for me to see stars -- across my face.
"I told the whole night shift about you, kid ... tonight, baby, you're our toilet."
Who wants to write the next paragraph?
Being the continued adventures of a 19 year old male hustler arrested for trying to peddle his peter on the streets of New York who finds himself handcuffed to the bars of a cell and being used as a toilet by, at this point, a pair of cops...
NOTICE: This is a work of fiction by an adult for other adults who are into urolagnia (pissing and piss, for those of you without your Ph.D's.) If you are a juvenile under legal age in your particular jurisdiction, please do not read any further. You have no rights as sexual beings. Your parents suffered amnesia about their own childhoods when you were born, and honestly are under the delusion that your minds -- and other places -- are as empty and pure as a calla lily. That this hypocritical insanity is one of the causes of endless neuroses, psychoses and violence can be overlooked as long as they can comfort themselves with fairy tales.
Well enough babble. On with the show. And by the way, all you pedophile hunters out there, don't come knockin on my front door, I dig older men, always have, and can prove it.
This second cop, who was now pissing into my mouth and accenting it with wads of spit, was a big Irish freckled redhead with a dick that was almost chalk white, except where it was flaming crimson (such as its extremely wide head). "Hey, Rocky!" he says to the Italian cop, "looks like we got ourselves a live one! Look! He loves it; his dick is standing straight up!" And it was true -- I had a boner that might as well have been made of steel. Whatever was happening was zinging my libido. The Irish cop starts pissing on my dick and mick-turating all over my balls. "Spread your legs and scoot down, kid," he sneers at me, "I wanna take a leak on your asshole!" I'm in no position not to obey, and as he's pissing on my tight little hole he turns to Rocky and mutters to him in a low, lewd growl: "Lookit that pussy!! You need a microscope to find his slit! I do believe we've got ourselves a virgin."
And it was true. My hustling career had been strictly as a top, with the johns paying big bucks for my big ten inch (and it wasn't a 78 of your favorite blues either). They liked me to dress like a hood, with a torn tee-shirt and a leather jacket and boots like the young Marlon Brando. They'd go down on me on their knees while I stood over them with a fucking cigarette dangling from my lips (these guys liked a full dress production, man), the ashes dropping on their face. Some guys wanted me to hit them while I fucked their mouths, and I was glad to oblige both because I got off on it and because for every rap on the chin I found another bill being stuffed into my pocket.
Piss was extra. It didn't take me long to figure out that piss freaks were so hot for their favorite drink that they'd pay through the nose for it. I couldn't believe I was making my living taking a leak! One guy was this big-time TV executive and his thing was he'd arrange with me to show up in Central Park in the dark where he'd be sitting on a bench still dressed in a tuxedo from some function or the other, he'd hand me a $50 bill and I'd whizz all over his black silk tie and everything. If I'd remembered to drink a lot of beer and not go for several hours and had a strong stream that lasted and lasted and lasted he'd go apeshit and start wonking his wang and handing me more cash.
And the Irish cop was right. I drew the line, and the line was my butt was not for sale. This citidel of my manhood was unexplored territory and I intended to keep it that way. Something about the way this paddy patrolman was smirking as the last few drops from his dangling prick finished lubricating my pucker told me that after tonight, my boy-cunt would no longer be second-cousin to a maraschino.
to be continued....
******Attention porno publishers! This is free doodling for the amusement of my fellow GS freaks. My BEST stuff, like that of my hero, is FOR SALE. Keep those contracts coming...