The Letter - Part 3 - Sex Stories

The Letter - Part 3

... whip dropping to the floor. Thank fuck for her piss fetish, the merest hint that a golden shower was on the cards and Jess was putty in my hands. She knelt before me, eyes wide, face tilted upwards with lips parted thirstily. She looked so beautiful and the desire in her eyes was divine. “Do it,” she pleaded. “I want to taste you.” My bladder was nicely full so I was primed to produce a steady stream of golden urine for my darling Jess to enjoy. I simply had to relax and let it go. Any second…come on… I faltered, momentarily thwarted by my surroundings. Jess was kneeling in our living room, our lovely clean living room with the lavish real oak floor. I couldn’t take a piss on that - it would soak in, it might stain. What would I say to our friends when they enquired about the large yellow mark on our expensive flooring? “That? Oh, that’s nothing. It’s just where I pissed on my wife!” Yeah, I could picture the looks I’d get. “Do it, Rob,” she repeated. “Do it here. It’s so naughty!” Oh fuck, there was that word - naughty . I couldn’t resist that word and the way Jess pronounced it, drawing it out to making it sound so dirty. My cock tingled and the air escaped my lungs in a low grunt as I let go of my first trickle of pee. Pungent golden droplets showered down onto the wooden floor in front of me with a soft patter. Groaning with satisfaction I watched my stream intensify, enabling me to arc it upwards straight into my wife’s delectable, gaping maw. Pain, pleasure, guilt and ...

... release mixed together in that moment to create the perfect recipe for euphoria. Sod the mess, I loved pissing on Jess. It drove me wild to see her take my fluids into her mouth. My inner voices persistently condemned me for performing such a vile act but my guilt simply served to enhance the pleasure. Time and time again I experienced the same mix of conflicting emotions that had surged through me the very first time I’d plucked up the courage to piss on Jess. The experience never lost any of its thrills. And so, as I said, my life was good - no, perfect. That’s why the appearance of a second letter from Jess made me apprehensive. Why another letter? What had I done wrong this time? Jess’s first letter had been prompted by her dissatisfaction with our marriage but surely that wasn’t the case anymore? Things were great between us, never better. So why leave another note? The prospect of bad news terrified me. How could I bear it if Jess was still unhappy? I’d done everything in my power to show Jess how much she was loved. If that wasn’t enough, I was sunk. I had nothing more to give. The appearance of that second letter, propped against the toaster on the counter, turned me cold. The letter was left on a Friday, a couple of weeks after the delivery of Jess’s ‘specialist clothing’ parcel. Jess was out at a friend’s baby shower and I’d been to the pub after work before picking up pizza and beers. With Jess out for the evening the TV was all mine and I intended to make the most ...