The Love of Piss

By Henry James

Published on May 24, 2024

Gay

The Love of Piss 2

As the name implies, this is a story about a young slut who loves water sports, pissing on others and being pissed on himself. If that's not your thing, then please read another story. If it is, kick back and enjoy. All feedback is gratefully received. If you would like your name to appear in another chapter, tell me what you're into; or have plot ideas, please send them. And remember guys, Nifty needs our donations as well as our stories.

I could hardly believe my luck, I'd just been invited back to the flat of my dream fucker, who not only loved dishing out piss for sluts like me to drink, but was an enthusiastic piss drinker himself. That huge cock would be in my man-cunt again tonight, and hopefully tomorrow too and I could get drunk on his piss and cum.

He lived in a large flat in a Victorian mansion block off Russell Square, a twenty minute walk from Substation. Our clothes had dried but we still stank of piss, so it was probably just as well there were very few people around this early in the morning. He had his arm around my shoulder, and mine was around his waist. But as we walked across Russell Square, his hand slid down my back, wormed its way inside my chinos and a finger played with my still slimy cunt, while he gently massaged my arse. My whole body tingled with anticipation. I wanted his cock so badly I could have sucked him off then and there, but I didn't want to shock the breeders, before breakfast. When we got to his block, and in the lift, I grabbed his cock and groped it hard, the huge ridge was outlined clearly in the mirror.

As soon as we were inside, we immediately stripped and he pinned me against the wall. No finesse, no preparation, I was pressed face forward against the wall, and he was probing for my cunt with his cock. I was ready for its size, and deliberately relaxed as he roughly pushed inside. The glorious plunge into me began. It still felt huge, but fuck, how I loved it! I hoped I was going to get very used to this. He was obviously in a hurry, because he rabbit fucked my arse hard and fast, his hands on my shoulders pushing me against the wall. I was almost sobbing with the pleasure coursing up my spine.

I just repeated, "Oh yes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Shit that feels wonderful. Please don't stop."

It seemed he was listening. Because he slowed down, leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Like that Slutboy? You like that big cock fucking your arse? He likes your cunt too."

If he slowed down, he didn't stop the pressure. If anything he fucked even deeper and harder. Then suddenly he stopped, frozen, and I felt the huge shalt pulsing deep inside me, as his cum pumped out.

He didn't piss inside my arse this time, I guess he didn't want piss all over the parquet flooring of the hall. And as his cock softened, and then slid out of me, he hugged me tightly, panting against my neck, from the effort. He nibbled my ear. "You have the best cunt, I've ever fucked, Slutboy. And I've fucked a lot."

"And you've got the best cock that's ever been in my cunt. And there've been hundreds up there believe me." I replied with a chuckle.

After a couple of minutes, he said, "I have to piss. Thirsty."

"Always."

He pulled away and taking my hand led me into his bedroom and then into the bathroom off it. There was a big tub, and climbing in he pulled me in with him. I automatically went down on my knees to drink his piss. Shit, how many thousands of times had I done that over the years? And every time was wonderful; every time was a glorious new, wet, adventure.

He wasn't kidding about the urgency, I'd hardly knelt down before the garden hose went off in my face. I tried to drink it, but for the first time in I don't know how long, I couldn't manage it. It filled my mouth and my frantically gulping throat, but most of it boiled over and ran down my chin, and chest and soaked my own rigid cock. It was too much and I came without even touching myself. I doubled up with the pleasure, and his piss soaked my hair and ran down my back.

When I'd managed to sit upright again, I just managed to get the still pissing cock into my mouth to drink the last of the flow, before he ran out. I looked up and opened my mouth to show him the pool of his pale golden piss inside. He looked at it greedily, knelt down with me and kissed me. I let his piss flow into his own mouth before, together, we swallowed it down. I took the opportunity while he was kneeling down, to scramble to my feet, then holding my cock and looking down at his handsome face staring up, I showered him with my own piss, He opened his mouth wide to catch as much as possible. But I soaked his hair too because I love seeing piss running down a beautiful face.

Fuck, life could be bloody, fucking wonderful sometimes.

His cum was safe, deep inside my man cunt; his piss was safe inside my belly and mine in his; suddenly I was overwhelmed with tiredness. I could hardly keep my eyes open and leaned against him. He held me as he got up and turned the shower on. The hot water cascaded over us as we kissed. For just a moment I pretended it was piss, and chuckled to myself. Now that would be a neat trick to organize, a piss shower! How wild would that be?

We dried ourselves off quickly, and already half asleep went to bed, where I crashed out into a sleep filled with dreams of pissing cocks, and spurts of cum.

When we woke up it was already midday, and I only woke up then because muscular arms wrapped round me and a big hand started wanking my cock, while a far bigger cock was probing my arse. This is absolutely the best way to wake up.

Having woken up I relaxed backwards and that wonderful cock was once again sliding back into my cunt. I slightly arched my back and pushed my arse back to meet him. I couldn't stop the deep groan of pleasure as he hit bottom,

"Oh yes, shove that cock home." He didn't need asking twice; knowing I was awake and relaxed, he once again shoved hard. The whole thing went into my arse in one glorious cum lubricated slide.

"Fuck!" It felt as if I was being fisted. That had only happened twice before, when I'd just been gangbanged and was flying on a couple of lines of coke, and two of the gang decided to find out just what my arse could take.. That had been a year ago; I was still deciding if I wanted to be fisted again......

He pulled the cock out until just the huge nob was still inside, then slammed it back hard, pushing me down onto the bed and almost knocking the wind out of me. He pulled my hips up a bit and went on fucking me hard and deep. Then flopping down on top of me, he slowly moved his cock round inside my cunt, pushing it in deep, then slowly pulling it back out again. I was loving it. But at the same time thinking, shit, how would I have coped if my cunt hadn't been as flexible and open as it is?

He nibbled my right ear, and whispered, "I'm turning you into a cunt, boy. My cunt. A cunt for me to fuck. Fuck hard and deep."

A little alarm went off in my brain. Boy? He was my age. On the one hand I was loving what he was doing. There was a part of me that loved being used, and used hard.

"I heard the story about your gangbang on the stage. A hundred and fifty loads of cum in your cunt and down your slut throat. Drinking cum by the glassful." He leaned over me, speaking into my ear.

"Like that did you? You're just a bitch in heat. Take any cock you can get, won't you? The bigger the better. Never enough cock, never enough cum, and definitely never enough piss. Well, you've got the jackpot. Mine's the biggest."

He was right, I'd loved being on that stage in front of a crowd of people having glasses of cum poured down my throat. I loved being in a back room, with my arse out being fucked again and again by strangers, till sperm was running down the back of my legs. It was why everybody at Substation called me Slutboy. It was why I was told as a student that I had the best arse in Oxford.

I'd always been horny. From the age of fifteen, when I'd sucked my first cock and swallowed my first load of cum, I've been addicted. Then, when one of my teachers and his boyfriend had introduced me to piss, I knew I would never get enough of that either. I'd swallowed and drunk my way through sleaze clubs and backrooms from Los Angeles to New York, and from Berlin to London. And I'd been gangbanged from Rio to Amsterdam.

I grinned at the memory of the huge fucking I'd got through one long hot night on the beach in Rio. When word got round to the unemployed beach boys, that some gringo was taking on everybody at $20 a time, everybody wanted a shot at my arse or mouth. It cost me nearly $1400, but fuck was it worth it! I had to keep going (staggering would be a better description) to the cash machine to get more $29 bills. Some of those Brazilian cocks would have given this last guy a run for his money. I was on my back in the hot sand, legs back and on my chest, for three hours, as boy after boy came forward, grinned down at me as he wanked his cock, then, when he was ready to cum, knelt down, shoved the head in my mouth or arse and filled it with cum. Then taking one of the $20 dollar bills I was holding, let the next one come forward. Big, black, and so hard, with shiny heads spitting cum into my mouth and arse.

The trouble was there was no pissing. That had to wait till I managed to shuffle back to the hotel where one of the night staff saw the growing cum stain on back of my shorts where my arse was leaking. He was obviously gay so when he asked me what had happened, found out what I had been missing, happily came back to my room and used me as a urinal, to make sure the cum was well washed down.

But there was another part of me that said, he isn't interested in how you're feeling. He isn't interested in your pleasure. In fact he was enjoying my discomfort. He wanted to hurt me. But not only that, he enjoyed putting me down in some kind of power trip. Boy! He called me his fucking Boy! The people who fuck me regularly in the club, aren't putting me down, they just enjoy my body and know that as they shaft my arse I'm getting as much pleasure as they do.

Even as I felt the pleasure of his cock still deep inside me, I thought this isn't quite right. At that moment I just wanted him to cum, so that I could get out. I arched my back and squeezed his cock with my arse. I heard him groan, and suddenly he was there.

"Oh yes Slutboy." I felt four hard jerks into me, as he once more pumped his sperm into my arse. For a few seconds afterwards he froze, then slowly, as he moved sideways, I felt his cock pulling out of my cum filled hole. He collapsed next to me, on his back panting. Nobody could say he didn't put everything into his fucking.

Before I could do anything he reached over and took my arm pulling me to him.

"You've got my cum inside you now, Slutboy. Marking you."

After a few more minutes luxuriating in the afterglow of a well fucked arse, I said quietly, "I have to go."

He didn't say anything. So I got up and went back to the hall to get my clothes. One sniff, told me I couldn't go back on the tube smelling like this, piss and poppers, the authentic smell of backrooms all over the world. Even on the street I would have to avoid people. O well, it was a forty minute brisk walk to Knightsbridge and a lot of that would be across Hyde Park. I let myself out and set off home. I mustn't complain. I'd just been fucked gloriously after an entire evening of sex, I'd been soaked in his piss, and I'd drunk even more. My arse felt open, slimy and well used. That's a good night in any slut's reckoning. I put an extra spring in my step and did a little dance in the middle of the park.

It was a warm day, and as I got a bit sweaty the smell of piss got stronger. There must have been twenty young guys stripped off, kicking balls around in the hot sun. I did a swift calculation; that would be two litres of piss for me to drink. As I looked at them I was pleased I was still thinking of cock. This last adventure may have had its downside but that wasn't going to stop me getting my arse opened up on a regular basis in the future, or guzzling piss at every opportunity.

I looked at a particularly fit lad, his broad shoulders shining in the sun, and his muscular tanned legs flexing as he kicked the ball. I took aim with my finger and thumb, pulled the trigger, grinned and jogged the last half mile back to Belgrave Street and home.

When I got inside I realised that I had to take a wicked piss. I went to the kitchen and got a large glass, held it under my cock and watched it slowly fill with the pale golden liquid, feeling its growing warmth in my hand. Then, when it was done and the glass full, bent over it, breathing in the smell, and staring into it while I savoured the moment. Then I slowly brought it up to my lips, thinking of the young footballer.

Next: Chapter 3


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