Posted by Jamie on January 26, 2000 at 17:39
Several years ago, while I was in college, I began dating another college student, named John.
His family had originally come from Japan, but both his father and himself had been born here in the U.S. His father was an industrialist, with holdings both here and in Japan.
In the beginning, John's and my sex life was pretty "normal", but over time, my boyfriend gradually revealed a side of his passion that, at first, struck me as kind of wierd.
One evening, as we were returning from a night out in the L.A. area bars, John unexpectedly took a turn onto a well-lit side street.
Without saying a word, he parked under a street light, and reached under the driver's seat of his BMW. He pulled out a wadded up T-shirt and placed it on his knee.
He then casually unzipped his jeans and pulled out his semi-hard penis, around which he loosely wrapped the T-shirt. He did not look up at me, or he would have seen a look of utter astonishment on my face.
He waited until he noticed a man and woman walking along the sidewalk, approaching our car. Being parked very close to the corner, anyone waiting to cross the intersection would necessarily have to stand fairly close to our car.
The couple paused for several minutes, as the traffic whizzed past.
John groaned softly, and flooded the T-shirt he was holding around his dick. It only took a moment, and the sodden T-shirt allowed his urine to stream onto the carpet, where it made a splashing sound.
He watched the couple cross the street right in front of us, and began to stroke his now stiff penis through the soaked T-shirt. As he got close to his climax (which came on quickly), he allowed just the tip of his dick to poke through the folds of wet cloth. He groaned loudly as his semen spurted out over his wet fist, and dribbled over his hand onto the soggy floor.
Then, without a word or a look at me, he wiped the cum off of his hand, stuffed the T-shirt back under the seat, and put his penis back into his pants.
Then, he started up the car and drove me home.
Neither one of us said anything, till he let me out in front of my apartment. Then he kissed me goodnight, and said he'd call me tomorrow. I didn't know what to say, except for ,"OK."
The next time that he arrived to take me out, I had to ask him what that whole thing was about the other night. He explained to me that, ever since he'd been a kid, when his bladder got full, it gave him "certain feeelings" which he'd come to find that he liked. As he got older, he found that fantasizing about urinating in his clothes, or in front of people, really aroused him. He hadn't warned me about what he was going to do, because he was afraid of how I react to his suggestion. He'd just wanted to see if I freaked out or not.
So, how did I feel about it? I couldn't really say...I was just taken by surprise, you know...
Over the next weeks and months, John shared more and more of this with me. Mostly, it seemed, the fact that I was there watching him and helping him get away with his exploits really added to his pleasure.
One time, we were at a loud, dark bar and John had knocked back a few beers, when he said, "Turn around." He put his arms around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder, looking down. I knew what was to come...I was wearing an ankle length skirt and high heels, so I shielded him from being seen by the crowds of people in front of us and behind us was a wall.
Immediately a wet spot formed on the front of his jeans (it was difficult to see in the dim light, but I was always turned on watching him piss himself, so I was really looking hard at his crotch). The spot rapidly grew into a dinner-plate sized patch and spread down both thighs. I wished that I could see better, 'cause I'd found that I loved watching the piss flow...
Soon the urine had streamed completely down his right leg and was dribbling onto his shoe and the floor. In the flashing lights I could see a shiny puddle around his feet. I glanced up at his face and I saw that his eyes were closed and when I placed my hand against his chest, I could feel him breathing fast. I just couldn't resist reaching down and pressing my palm against the hard swelling in the front of his pants.
"Come on," he said, and we began to make our way through the tightly packed room. It was so crowded that I'm sure no one paid much attention to us as we passed, and with me and my long skirt in front of him, no one noticed John's wet pants.
Once outside, we made our way quickly to the car, parked in a dark corner of the parking lot. He unlocked the passenger side door and sat down, unfastening his jeans as he went. I went around to the driver's side, climbing in as he unlocked the door for me.
I closed the door and kneeled on the driver's seat. I pushed the soggy denim away from his hard-on and took it tenderly between my lips. With a gentle suction I drew his whole length in, and then slid my lips back to the very tip. He was not particulary large, even when erect, but that was just exactly how I liked it. Having given head to a former boyfriend who was impressivley hung, I had learned that having my entire throat jammed full of thrusting penis was not any kind of fun. John's erection filled my mouth nicely and I could still breathe (which meant that I could enjoy his pleasure, too...)
Anyway, it only took a few minutes of stroking his stiff dick with my tongue and lips for him to begin panting and burying his hands in my blonde hair. With a moan that was more like a sigh, he shot spurt after spurt of salty cum into my mouth, which I swallowed. His semen was tasty, like the taste of tears...
When we'd finished, he quickly put his dick back into his wet jeans, and we switched seats. The drive home was mostly silent, except for the radio. When we got home, John made the most wonderful love to me.