Utopia (Part 3)
“You can’t waste it! I’ve got plans.”
“You can’t waste it! I’ve got plans.”
“0h. I should have realised! What plans?”
Mary had just announced she needed a pee, but I desperately wanted to get her to enjoy playing with her piss. Or mine! She had watched me drink hers last time but hadn’t played at all. I hoped to rectify that.
“Have you thought about it since last time?”
“Have I thought about it? Ha. It wasn’t exactly something easily forgotten.”
“So?”
“So, I’ll give it a try.” My face lit up. “No! Not drinking it! God, I couldn’t do that, but I’ll pee on you if that’s what you want and perhaps we could try you peeing on me. Not near my face though.”
She sounded less than enthusiastic but the fact she had agreed to try it was a positive sign.
“Okay, that’s so good. Let’s go.” I led the way, not to the bathroom, but downstairs to the kitchen. I came to the conclusion early on that simply peeing standing over the loo or even in the bath didn’t turn me on nearly as much as peeing where I shouldn’t.
“Where are we going?” Mary asked. I told her and explained why.
“Silly me. Of course, peeing over the kitchen floor is so much sexier.” There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I was going to have to work on her to get her to enjoy this. The sensual atmosphere was fast disappearing at least on Mary’s side, so when we arrived in the kitchen I turned to her, hugged her, and kissed her open-mouthed. Much to my relief, she responded and soon our hands were busy on each other’s bodies. I worked on her pussy and felt her juices beginning to flow. This wasn’t how I’d planned it but I didn’t want to break the spell so said, “Let go. Piss over my hand.” I withdrew my fingers but kept rubbing her lips. We were still kissing. Then I felt it. A drip or two, then the flow began. The warm piss cascading over my fingers. A delicious sensation. She’d said she was full so I didn’t rush. I let her get comfortable with her pee flowing over my hand then dropped to my knees, urging her legs further apart, and took the stream in my face. Oh so magical. So deviant. So perverted. I moved my face around under the stream as if showering, then opened my mouth and let what remained flow in. I swallowed a mouthful. She was nearly empty so I held the rest in my mouth. I watched her face. I could see she was turned on.
I stood up, put my head down to her tits and let the piss run out over them. She was nuzzling my neck. So horny. All was well, still. I began massaging her tits and brought my head up to kiss her. She didn’t hesitate. I thought she might. The taste of piss must have been on my lips and tongue. Her kiss was as sexual as ever.
We came up for air. I held her head against my breasts. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That was magical.”
She didn’t speak. Seconds passed. I began to wonder if she was having second thoughts but then, “My turn then. You like it kinky, Tracy Parker so how about I lay on the kitchen floor and you piss on my tits?” She didn’t wait for an answer but walked to the other side of the kitchen and lay down and started playing with herself. That was too much. I got sidetracked from the idea of peeing! Perhaps that was her intention. I sunk my head between her legs and licked her pussy. The aroma, combined with the taste of the mixed piss and juice was intoxicating. Her body was reacting to my ministrations. Her hips began to tremble. I thought she was going to squirt but she didn’t. “Do it now.” she hissed. “Pee on me. Anywhere!”
God. Did she mean it? I wasn’t going to ask. I stood over her and let my flow go, controlling it as best I could. Short bursts. First on her cunt. Then her stomach. Then tits. Her eyes were shut but her expression was of sheer horniness. I hesitated. I desperately wanted to piss on her face. To give her the chance to taste it. But she had said no originally. Did I take her entreaty to do it anywhere as authority? Or was it given under duress? The nicest possible duress but would she regret it after? I decided it better to have her frustrated than livid, so was about to release my last load over her tits when she whispered again. “Do it! My face! Do it, fuck you!”
The words spat out. I knew exactly what she was thinking. They mirrored my own thoughts on so many occasions. What you’re suggesting is the most obscene, vile, depraved thing imaginable but I have an undeniable need for it.
I edged up her body, raised myself over her head, and forced out my remaining pee. I wished it was more, but it was enough.
I gyrated my hips pissing all over her face, into her hair. As I felt the flow subsiding I aimed for her lips. Her mouth was closed. It remained that way. A shame, but she had gone so much further than I’d expected. I was sure it would come. As I was about to. I bent forward, found a hand and placed it on my vagina. She needed no urging. I knelt, returning the favour and kissed and licked her face. More of that taste and aroma. Urine mixed with her exotic perfume. Our climaxes came close together again. Hers accompanied by her signature spurt. Perhaps my imagination, but longer and harder than ever.
We continued kissing long after the effects of the orgasm had subsided. I was desperate to know her reaction to what we’d done but didn’t want to break the spell.
Eventually, she broke into a spontaneous giggle. I leant back from her and looked. “What?”
“It’s just occurred to me. What a preposterous sight. Two middle-class middle-aged mums doing deviant sexual things in the kitchen! It’s unbelievable. It’s so silly. We should be having tea and sowing cardigans and joining the WI.”
“If you want to. Except I think you knit cardigans, not sow them” I replied.
She punched me on the arm. “Silly! Anyway no. I wouldn’t swop these last few hours for all the tea in all the WI meetings in the country.”
“This last thing’s not put you off?”
“Does it look like it? I was right though. It is perverted. But it’s what this boring middle-aged woman needs. I’m not sure I could actually drink the stuff, but the rest, yes that’s a horny turn-on.”
Those words! God how my life had changed in these few short months.
“I really ought to go.”
“Can’t you stay the night?”
“What excuse could I give Katie? She knows I’m not drinking.”
“Do you need an excuse?”
“Oh no, silly me. I’ll just tell her I stayed over to have more sex after we’d screwed twice and pissed over each other in the kitchen. It’s normal in our circle. I’m sure all her friends' mums do it.” She giggled again and stood up.
“At least have a shower before you go.” I offered.
“Mm. That probably a good idea.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Alone though. Otherwise, I think we might get too distracted.” Damn! She’d read my mind.
