The full story of me and Mr. Davis - Sex Stories

The full story of me and Mr. Davis

... together to catch his discharge. It was quite warm and refreshing. I opened my mouth, beckoning him to let me taste it. He did. I did not know what to expect, but the tangy fluid was not awful in taste. It was like drinking old, diluted, unsweetened lemonade. Of course, it was a bit salty. Sorta like gargling with salt water to help a sore throat. I swallowed the first mouthful, then waited for more. It was quite erotic for him to piss on me, and I could tell this might become something we do again. I caught another mouthful of his piss but did not swallow it, then stood up. I looked at him with a questioning expression to see if he was interested in tasting it too. He knew what I meant and kissed me. He got some of his piss into his mouth when we kissed. My only indication that he enjoyed himself was his erection that stood out from his loins. I may have uncovered the secret kink of Mr. Davis. If it made him happy, he could piss on me every day.

We showered and rinsed off and got into bed. I asked him if he liked pissing on me. He said he liked the idea of pissing on someone, but not necessarily on me. I asked what about pissing on someone was interesting to him. He said it was a power thing. He had been raised to always go with the flow. To never question authority or society. Getting pissed on was shorthand for getting screwed by society. And if he could be the one doing the pissing on, he would get back at society, in some tiny way. Mr. Davis was quick to re-assure me ...

... that he did not have a desire to specifically piss on me. It was merely symbolic. Before he met me, he always fantasized about hiring a hooker solely so he could urinate on her. He thought it would make him feel better. He didn’t have the courage to even speak to a woman so hiring a hooker was totally out of the question. It was one of those unfulfilled fantasies that he struggled with since it could never be realized.

But then he met me. And once he knew my story and how I had almost literally been pissed on by my own, drugged-out mother due to the way she raised me, his own fantasy melted away. He realized that how he was treated by the world was nothing compared to the difficulties I had experienced. He still loved the idea of pissing on someone, but not decided about doing it to me.

I told him I understood completely. I had a rough childhood, but I overcame it. And meeting him was my greatest good fortune. And more importantly, I wanted to please him. He meant the world to me. So, he could piss on me anytime he wanted. I jokingly told him it was another good reason for him to drink more water. He said “OK”.

Chapter ten – the book

Mr. Davis really was fascinated by my life story. The very fact that I grew up an orphan, then bounced from foster home to foster home, yet managed to become a wonderful person was astounding to him. He had read and edited several non-fiction childhood development books when he worked for a publishing company. None of the research in ...