Three Pissing Adventures

I am flat broke.  I am in a coffee house.  I have a gallon of water, a bus pass and a dollar to my name.  When this cup of tea ends up in my belly I have to go back to my temporary place of slumber to see my cat and my bio family.  I have to take a wicked piss.
I have had a couple good piss sessions since I have been in the city.  Three actually.  They were all super hot.
I met a boy in front of a bar adjacent to Golden Gate Park.  He had a car with dark tinted windows, the kind that are illegal in California.  We jumped in his car and drove it to the side of the park.  I ordered him to strip naked and stroke his prick for me.  As he amused with his little doggy show I pulled off my dark green tights and had him push his seat back all the way.  I climbed up onto his shoulders and squatted over his face.  I shot a stream of piss into his mouth and ordered him to swallow it.  I shot another one and then another one really quickly.  He dribbled a little on his nice leather seat.  “Don’t dribble or your car will be covered in piss,” I told him.  “Open” I demanded.  I let a long slow stream of piss into his mouth.  He tried to swallow it without closing his mouth.  It ended up getting all over the place.  I laughed and kept pissing.
At some point I tried spinning around and pissing into his mouth with my ass in his face but the design of the auto was not accommodating. I didn’t have enough clearance to sit up so I went back to my original position and emptied my bladder into his mouth just as a random pedestrian came walking by.  It was a nice way to welcome me to the city.
A few days later I found myself in the east bay with a man who has a very large and sexy collection of vintage nightgowns.  After the long ride on the BART I had to piss something crazy.  As soon as I got there I has him put on a pretty pair of panties and lay down (on the piss bed he had made with tarps and sheets in anticipation of my arrival).  I gushed all over him.  I stood above him as he lay there in his silky little lacy things and emptied my bladder all over his face, onto his panties, and it just kept coming.  I had more piss that day then I usually have.  By the time I got to his place I was working on my third gallon of water and shit if he didn’t almost drown.  At one point he had to sit up cause he was chocking on piss.  It was a sexy little sadistic thrill watching him suffer like that.
We played all day long.  I pissed on him three times.  Long hard pissing, not little trickles.  I made him come in his panties and then I made him take me back to the BART while he was covered in my urine.  I didn’t even let him wash or dry the pee off him.  I just told him to put on something he could be seen in and away we went.  As long as he did what he was told, he should be sitting in the pissy panties at his office job right about now.
The third, and hopefully not last, good piss time I have had in this wonderful part of the country happened yesterday when I went on what was a seemingly benign photo shoot.  I met the photographer at a coffee house near the beach.  We headed down to the ocean to shoot me pissing off some strange old sewer block.  The thing had a crazy cesspool around it.  I stood at the top of this bizarre concrete, graffiti covered, monstrosity and pissed down into the cesspool twenty feet below.  He took pictures from a variety of angles. Two actors who were rehearsing there put up with our strange behavior as long as they could, then they quietly left.  A strange dude with a brown bag drink came walking by and offered to be my toilet.  Some tourists watched from a distance.  All in all, not a soul said anything unpleasant to us as we shot pissing porn across the city.  There were a lot of people on the beach yesterday.  It was a nice day in san Francisco.  We could have never done that in socal.  I love this city.
After the pissing on the beach we crossed the street and headed to the park.  We shot a variety of interesting things.  Pissing was the intention so we shot strange art and as I had urine to expel we shot piss photos.  It was one of the most wonderful photo shoots I have ever had.  He was fun to work with, he took awesome photos and he was able to tell stories about Foucault.  Apparently the piss shooting photographer had lunch with Foucault some twenty years ago.  He told me about his food and sexual habits.  Foucault was pretty into the gay kink scene here in San Francisco.  He liked fisting, also he ate his sandwich with a fork and knife.  I need to know more about my favorite philosopher’s odd behavior.  I like fisting and could read Foucault all day, every day.  I was wildly impressed with the level of intellectual conversation that the photo shoot engendered.  And wait till you see the photos.  My gawd they are fucking hot.
So those are the three pissing adventures I have had in the city.  Hopefully they are not the only ones I will have.  I leave Tuesday and like I said at the beginning of this series of stories:  I’m in the city, I’m broke and I have to pee.  Call me up if you want to make yourself useful!
Widow Centauri
619.884.2376

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