Beverly Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Beverly Ch. 02

... clarity of a high-definition photograph. I decided, between long licks, that I would let my beard grow out and not wash it on what I had already decided would be our "dirty weekends."

And something about that image struck between my legs and I came.

Apparently, she was surprised because she coughed.

When she coughed I felt a little hot jet of urine on my chin and then dribbling down to puddle on that hollow under my throat, above my Adam's Apple.

And I knew there were still more bridges to cross.

I moved so that my mouth covered her pussy and started probing with my tongue. I'm not a doctor, but, well, I've looked pretty closely at Bev's pussy. So I was probing below the hard little button of her clitoris, seeking that tiny opening, her urethra. I wanted to taste the rest of her.

It was morning, and I was sure she needed to pee as badly as I did. I could feel her, just a tiny tension where I was touching with the tip of my tongue. I used my hands to gently spread her cheeks and then my fingertips to find that tiny little orifice, her asshole, and tickle it, not demanding, but encouraging.

Somewhere, deep in my mind, where I never really completely quit thinking unless I'm asleep and, I guess, even then I'm thinking somehow, otherwise why the dreams?

Anyway, somewhere, deep in my mind, I realized that what I was doing now, what I was seeking, wasn't really sex, I suppose, when you get down to it, that can be said about any fetish.

But what we did ...

... last night, and what I was doing right then, wasn't sex, the accompanying orgasms and ejaculations notwithstanding.

This was a completely different expression of our love and our acceptance of each other. It was intimacybeyond sex.

All of these thoughts were working somewhere deep in my mind as on the surface, in the here and now, my tongue kept touching and my fingers kept playing.

Just as I tasted the first little dribble of her hot, salty, acrid, bitter piss, my low mind, way down there just above the subconscious, had one of those "Eureka" moments that if you're lucky you might experience twice in a lifetime.

The more vile, the more disgusting, the more revolting, the more repulsive society would consider an act, the more perfectly intimate it was.

In our 21 years of marriage, I had been in the bathroom a few times when Bevvy was peeing and I had always been fascinated with that odd hissing sound she made. It was like her bladder was forcing urine out under pressure.

The was none of that here.

She just relaxed and her bladder started emptying.

But it was still faster than I could swallow and I coughed, making my eyes burn where it splashed and soaking my chest and her belly.

That seemed to trigger something in her and now she WAS pissing with the force that would make that odd hissing sound.

And I was being waterboarded.

I tried to swallow but the sheer force of what she was doing kept my epiglottis closed. Hot piss was forced into my sinuses ...