Three Caught Short - Sex Stories

Three Caught Short

‘What the fuck happened to you?!’ My mate, Weasel is not best pleased, I can tell. I can’t say I blame him, as I’d left him ordering extra beers at the bar last night, during the half time interval in the mid-week cup match, while I went outside for a pee and then never came back! A few days ago, I hooked up with a sexy older woman, who I fucked and had some dirty pee play with, in a coffee shop toilet for the disabled. Then, last night, on a whim, I rang her from outside the pub and wound up screwing her again and having yet more golden showers. In fact, I’d had very little sleep and was grateful that it was Weasel’s turn to drive the pair of us to work at the cop shop. Not that I’m a cop – I just maintain their fleet of vehicles, with Weasel and a few others. We’re a couple of grease monkeys, but we scrub up well and like to think of ourselves as babe magnets on the weekends. Well, what single guy in his mid-thirties doesn’t? My mystery MILF is around ten years older than me, but fucks like a train and seems to have an inexhaustible supply of piss, which she just loves squirting in my direction. ‘It’s a long story,’ I tell Weasel when he asks again why I vanished from the pub before the end of the match. Launching in to the entire tale, I could see my pal’s jaw dropping further and further until it was almost in his lap by the time I got to the end. ‘Fucking hell, Billy!’ he declares after I finally finished my bizarre story. ‘Call yourself a mate? Shagging a hot babe like ...

... that and not sharing her with your old pal?’ Billy’s not my real name. I used to be a fat kid, so I was nicknamed Billy Bunter after the famous fictional porker and it kind of stuck. ‘Look, if I’d not been so busy keeping her hungry pussy fed and lapping up her hot pee, I might have found time to give you a call and get you to fill her in for me, while I got my breath back,’ I tell him. ‘I’m fucking knackered this morning!’ ‘Well, if you get another go with her, cut me in, that’s all I’m saying,’ says Weasel, grumpily. All such thoughts are soon swamped by the daily grind as we set about our mundane tasks, fixing the fleet of much-abused police vehicles in our care. Soon it’s tea break time and Weasel returns to the topic over a brew and a doorstep cheese sandwich. ‘So, this pissing game, what’s that all about?’ he asks, spitting a mouthful of mature Cheddar on rye at me as he speaks. I wipe a fleck of crumb-encrusted spittle off my overalls and glare at him. Although we’re sitting in the rest room, the other mechanics are not too far away and I don’t want the entire fucking workshop knowing what I’ve been up to. ‘Not here!’ I hiss back. ‘I’ll tell you later over a pint.’ All afternoon I keep thinking about my night of pure filth with the sexy MILF, her hunger for my cock in her pussy and her insatiable desire to taste my pee and have me taste hers. It had been a long, messy night, full of hot sex and I couldn’t wait to have another one with her! Weasel can hardly wait for me ...