Ever since I was seven years old, I had been a pissfreak. Not just regular clear piss (although it would do in a pinch to quench a nagging thirst) but a nasty,morning-or-held-all-night-before dark,stinky foaming,fermented near-cider piss. It all started when my uncle had to babysit me while my father worked at night. My mother had died when I was 3,and my father drove a truck throughout the northeast (we lived just outside of Allentown PA).
My uncle loved to drink Colt 45 malt liquor in the 40 ounce bottles. He had a huge thirst for the stuff,and although my dad forbade him to drink around me, he figured since my dad was away so much of the time he would never get caught. He would drink 7 or 8 of this huge 40 ouncers without getting up to piss once. When he did finally piss, I could hear every precious drop hitting the toilet bowl with the force of a waterfall or dam bursting( the walls were thin, and my room was right next to the john) At first the sound of his torrential pissing made me uncomfortable and of course,made me have to go like a racehorse. Fearing my uncle (he could be a bastard when angered,more so with liquor in him) I would try to hold it till he finished.
But,with a bladder like his holding close to 4 gallons of hot malt liquor piss, his urinating took something like 10-12 mins (once, I timed him at 20 fucking minutes of straight full force urinating-the man was a fucking fire hose!!)and when you're a litte guy with a little bladder,even 1 min of holding your pee was an eternity. Plus, he made such noises,grunting and sighing with the pleasure of relieving such a full full monstrous bladder.
He would curse and piss,sometimes stopping only to let out a fart and then continuing the river with even fuller force. The noises he made began to make my naive pecker stand up. As soon as he would finish, I would rush in to urinate,practically pissing myself. My uncle would often be too drunk to flush the toilet, and the sight of all that dark,dark foamy piss, along with the stench of it filling the tiny room was too much. My curiosity got the better of me one day when he stumbled out after a short session (five minutes for my uncle,which was short,he stumbled drunkenly out of the bathroom without even zipping his fly. As usual,the toilet was filled almost to the rim with unflushed foamy dark stinking pee. Without knowing he was watching, I ducked my head into the scalding bladder wine and sipped it straight from the toilet. Because he pissed for so long and so hard, the bowl was almost devoid of water to dilute the dark cider. The taste blew me away. Once I slurped a foamy patch, I was hooked.
After my first slurp, I ducked my head in to get another taste when my uncle bellowed, "Well, a hot mancider drinker!! I knew someone in this family besides me like hot stinky pee. Well, I thought you might have to go pretty bad so I cut off my flow, but theres at least 4 or 5 more gallons of sweet dark foamy malt liquor pee for my little piss-drinking nephew to drink. Get on your knees boy and get ready for your thirst quenching late night drink!!"
With that, I dropped, shocked and excited to my knees, my mouth automatically popping open to drink. With a loud sigh of relief, my uncle unleashed a torrent of his dark malt liquor brew, first all over my face, the hot liquid dripping through my hair and face and nose, and then finally aiming for my mouth. My small mouth would fill quickly from his torrent. My uncle would cut off the thick piss stream every 30 seconds or so so that I could swallow the acrid,thick dark brew-urging me on to drink and drink his piss, how he loved my little piss drinking mouth and how he would be quenching my thirst for dark apple cider from now on. After 3 or 4 mins of this, my own little boy bladder ached. When I gurgled that I had to pee through his piss storm,my uncle abruptly cut off the flow so that he could free my little dick from my now soaking pajamas. He aimed it at himself and I released a mini-torrent of my own, surprisingly lasting for almost a full minute. My uncle laughed and said I was following in his foot steps. I tried to finish quickly so that I could return to drinking his stinky,acrid brew down my thirsty throat.
He kept me in the bathroom for almost 2 hours that night, alternating between pissing in me and getting pissed on by me, filling a milk quart with his foamy brew and watching me drink ( I couldn't drink it all down right away-it took me several minutes to down it, then he would fill it again and again) That night, I knew I was born to drink dark,strong piss. That was 10 years ago, and now,equipped with my own 4 gallon bladder, I roam the streets looking for anyone drinking malt liquor, so I can drink their dark brew and reminisce about my sweet, piss-filled uncle.