**w4m- Need to pee! (H—- Square)**
“My bladder is bursting. Can I hold it long enough for you to be my toilet? Send me a pic of you, clothed, holding something with today’s date. You must host. You will receive only.”
Ok, so my bladder isn’t quite bursting yet, but I’ve been holding it in today and drinking water steadily. It’s getting close. True to CL fashion, most of the replies are garbage. So many unsolicited genitals. I wonder if people even bother to read the ads. There is a danger to this impulsive move and I have to trust that I’ll choose someone who won’t kill me and put me through a wood chipper. Time’s getting short and I’m getting fuller.
I think I might have found someone who looks good. He’s older than I am, salt and pepper hair with blue eyes. Stubbled and in decent shape. I’ve always been attracted to silver foxes. He says he is in the square. By this time, I feel pressure building in more than just my aching bladder. It’s been building for a while. My fetish has gotten the best of me finally. I answer his email with my number telling him to text me.
Then I wait.
Five minutes pass and I start to think this was stupid. There’s no way this guy is real. Real in the sense of actually following through, that seems to be the definition of reality on Craigslist. Another five minutes go by and I’m preparing for disappointment. I guess I’ll just go to the bathroom like a normal person, maybe play with myself while I unload. Then my phone vibrates.
A thrill passes through me.
“Do you still need to piss?”
“I’ve been holding it just for you. Do you have a place?”
“Do you have a pic?”
I take a quick selfie with the square in the background then shoot that off to him. It must have met approval because I receive a reply …with an address. This is my last chance to bow out and put this crazy idea aside. No way. I’m too pent up to do that this time.
“I’ll be there in five. Hope I don’t wet my pants before I get there.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I’m almost dancing when I press the button for his apartment. The door buzzes and I enter a cool, dark hall. A door down the way to my left opens and I walk towards uncertainty and closer to relief. He stands at the door in a button down and tie. Shirt tucked in to well-tailored grey slacks. The picture was accurate and I’m very pleased. He greets me and I enter his upscale apartment. Wood floors, shiny stone counters and modern furniture make me feel out of my element. I get over that quickly because with all those hard surfaces, clean up won’t be an issue.
He closes the door behind me and I turn to him.
“I can’t wait much longer” I say almost bursting at the seams.
“Then by all means, tell me what you want.” His voice is husky and eager.
I walk to the dining area which features a large glass-topped table surrounded by iron and wood chairs. There’s a single gerbera daisy in a thin vase in the center. The room is full of sunlight. Beams reflect off the polished wood, illuminating the ceiling and making everything glow.
“Loosen your tie and unbutton your shirt.” I demand. “Take it out of your pants, lay on the floor.”
I point to my feet. He complies, revealing a trim torso with an adequate amount of body hair, also salt and pepper. He’s on the floor at my feet, at my mercy, looking to me expectantly. I am so full, but I take my time undoing my shorts, and I bend from the waist to slide them down my legs and off my feet. My panties are on and the white satin is wet near my clit with arousal. I don’t remove them but step one foot over his prone form, straddling him.
“Yes, give it to me.” He says eagerly.
“Be quiet.” I tell him.
A moment passes while I try to relax. This is so hot, so wrong, and exactly what I need. Finally I feel the muscles give and a trickle starts, soaking through the fabric of my underwear and running down my thigh. I’m watching myself, watching my panties get wet. I relax more to let it flow out. In an instant, my stream is strong enough to stay cohesive. It splashes on his belly below me. He groans with pleasure. I squat down closer, and pull the crotch aside to soak his chest, full blast. My piss runs through his chest hair and bounces to hit his face. It sparkles in the sunlight. He has his mouth open, trying to catch some of it. I buck forward a little to give him a bit of what he wants. I don’t want to be done yet, so with an effort I cut it off. He’s licking his lips as I straighten up.
“Is that it?” He asks.
“No, be quiet. Stay there.” I reply.
I can see his erection straining the front of his grey slacks. His hand begins to drift there.
“Don’t touch yourself.” I command.
I step away for a second to peel off my soiled undies. I put them in my mouth, letting them dangle over my chin. I reposition myself with my feet on either side of his hips. I lower myself so my vulva is floating just above that bulge in his pants, and let loose again. I’m release hard, right on his clothed cock.
He moans as his slacks darken from the wetness flowing from me.
I cut myself off and crawl up on my knees so I’m above his chest again, his arms on the other side of my legs. I grab his tie and use it to wipe the drips away. I hope it’s an expensive one. I hope I’ve ruined it forever. I rub my clit through it. I’m so wet that when I pull the tie away to look, it’s slimy with my juices. He watches intently, his hands drifting to my thighs. I lightly slap them to let him know I don’t want them there. Like a good boy he moves them back to the floor.
My attention’s back on that silk tie. I stretch it out along his belly, and I piss once more, moving around to make sure I soak as much of the tie as I can. I stuff my panties into his mouth. He likes it, smiling through the fabric. I think I might be running out soon. One more time, I stop myself and slide back on the pee covered floor, straddling his legs. I can’t help myself at this moment. I see his hard cock through his pants, soaked and clinging to the fabric. I reach down and wrestle open the catch of his slacks then yank down the zipper to splay them open. His boxer briefs are blue except for where he’s wet from my urine. That’s dark blue.
I pull the waistband down. His penis pops out, hard and red with blood. I hook the waistband under his balls, lifting them up and out. His junk lays, waiting. He breathes heavy.
I get up on my knees, then lean forward and put my hands on the floor beside his ears. On my hands and knees above him, I look straight into his handsome face. I let go one last time, shooting right onto his stiffness. It feels so deliciously good. I reach down and finger my clit. I can feel my pee splashing off him. I lower myself more, my gushing mound now barely touching his hard shaft. He twitches against my lips then groans. I know it’s taking everything in him not to shove himself inside me. A few last spurts escape me, then I’m done, dripping from my labia onto him.
I know he thinks I’m going to have sex with him. I feel him impatiently moving under me, his erection is brushing against me, knocking me when it twitches. I get up onto my knees only, out of reach of his admittedly nice looking prick. I look him up and down, taking in his wet, pissy disarray. I see he still has my panties hanging from his mouth.
“Stay there.” I tell him one last time.
I stand to retrieve my shorts but I make sure he behaves while I pull them up and fasten them. I could so easily stay here and ride him until I squirt as well, but instead I walk back to the door and turn to look at him laying on the floor destroyed by my body fluids. He’s beginning to sit up as I turn my back to him, walk out, and leave the building.
Written by Lizzy Livewire
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