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Note: This is not a story for people who like piss stories. If that’s your thing, this story will probably just annoy you. No shame in liking piss, but I just don’t, and the story reflects that. Just like if I wrote a story about how I’d respond to drinking whiskey, a drink I don’t like, I’d write about how I don’t like it. Yet, this does in no way mean I have any problem with people who enjoy whiskey, nor even the idea of enjoying whiskey. I just don’t like it, personally.
It is not even really a sexy story (except for the final chapter), it is a sarcastic joke. I am satirizing the claims people have made about my preferences. I just put it in the “fetish” category because it’s probably too raunchy for the “humor and satire” category.
If you like squirt, though, and are annoyed at how the topic is misconstrued online, and gets confused with piss, you may find this work amusing.
End note.
Chapter 1
So, some guy online told me I have a pee fetish. Needless to say, I was surprised. He read some of my stories, and wanted to let me know that I am obsessed with drinking piss, and that I should just admit it. I told him that squirt is different, but he pointed out that squirt is just watered down pee, same as when a woman drinks a lot of water and then pees. Squirt, he explained, is when a woman involuntarily pees during orgasm. Several other people said the same.
I took this seriously, since when a random person online tells you something, it must be taken as fact! Even though I had researched it and knew that hydration alone does not make a woman’s pee odorless, tasteless, and clear like true, pure squirt, and that true squirt will always be further purified than urine could ever be, by definition, I tossed out that, and all of my knowledge of squirt.
I told my wife, “Honey, I just found out I have a pee fetish.”
She kicked me out. She is a squirter, but draws the line at pee, I guess. I tried to tell her what the guy online said, that pee and squirt are identical, but she wouldn’t listen. She refused to pee on me, and said she is only comfortable squirting because it doesn’t smell or look gross, and tastes like water, and I wouldn’t budge on the issue, so that was that. I wandered off, and tried to find my way.
At first, I tried reading erotica stories about women peeing into the mouths of men and women, and them drinking it, just like what I write in my squirting stories (but in mine it’s always squirt, not pee). I figured they should turn me on, because they just use a different word for the same exact event. I found several that had really similar writing to what I write, yet for some reason when I read “gritty” when describing the pee, or “strongly flavored,” “very bitter,” “yellow,” or “that intense, acrid pee smell,” or “ammonia smell,” I got completely turned off. I couldn’t believe it!
I tried focusing on just the action, and ignoring the pee descriptions, but every one I could find wasn’t really about women coming and involuntarily pissing at the same time (which is what I was told squirt is), it was about them just pissing, more often then not while they weren’t even having any kind of sex at all. Even when it was during sex, it wasn’t caused by orgasm, and, still, then the description of the pee made it gross for me.
Eventually, though, I did find one story where a woman pees stinky, yellow, bitter and foul tasting piss during an orgasm, but I couldn’t get over those descriptive words. They made me feel almost like I was smelling and seeing, or even tasting these things, and I couldn’t even finish reading the story. In fact, I couldn’t finish any of the pee stories. I even managed to find a story where the woman’s pee is really mild, but still was described as smelling like pee, being lightly yellow, and tasting faintly like pee, and that grossed me out, too. It almost seemed like the qualities that are so well known to describe pee are what people with pee fetishes are turned on by. So, what the fuck was wrong with me? Why didn’t it work for me?
Squirt is pee, and yet no pee erotica turns me on at all. Truly bizarre!
I reasoned it must be something about language turning me off. So I watched several videos of hot porn actresses pissing. Inexplicably, though, the fact that they were just peeing, and not orgasmically, involuntarily erupting at climax ruined it for me. The yellow color of the pee turned me way off, too. I managed to find a video of a woman orgasmically peeing, but, again, the yellow color there turned me off. I was totally disillusioned and confused.
Chapter 2
Time went on, and I met a new woman. I told her I’m obsessed with drinking pee, and she was down. We had a nice dinner, where she made onikişubat escort sure to really fill up on water. I lost track of how much she drank, but I think it was around a liter per hour for a few hours. Then, when we got back to my house, she pissed all over me. For some reason I kept gagging at the smell.
“What’s your deal? I thought you said you liked piss?” she asked, frustrated that I kept avoiding her as she tried to interact with me during and after the mess.
“I’m sorry, I really love piss, but I must have a stomach bug or something which is triggering my gag reflex. Who knows?” I replied, apologetically.
She walked over and grabbed my dick through my pants, and said, “You’re not even hard, like at all!”
“Sorry, I promise you this does turn me on, I was told so. Maybe I actually need to drink the piss?”
She pissed directly into my mouth. I drank some, and immediately threw up on her legs.
“What the fuck!?” she demanded as she backed away.
“I’m so sorry! Must be the stomach bug!” I said.
She stormed out. I looked around at all of my couch furnishings. All of the lighter colored ones, like pillows and stuff, were stained yellow. I threw up again at the sight. Then I couldn’t stop gagging at the smell she’d left behind. I had to run into the bathroom, and then hold my breath while running into the room and bagging up the things she’d pissed on, and then throwing them into the garbage outside.
Chapter 3
I called the doctor’s office and asked, “Should I see a psychologist, or a general practitioner if I can’t stand being peed on, and can’t handle even looking at pee stains and smelling it, even though I love pee, and have a pee fetish?”
“Sir, I hope this is not a prank call,” replied the receptionist.
“No, I’m being totally serious! I threw up twice today, I’m ill,” I said earnestly.
She made me an appointment with the doctor. Once I got into the office, I explained what happened to the doctor.
“It sounds like you had a normal reaction to getting urine on you. It’s normal to throw up in that situation,” said the doctor.
“But I was told I love urine by someone online,” I replied.
“Well, I get the feeling you don’t, unless you’re a masochist?”
I thought about it, and couldn’t remember ever enjoying pain of any kind, so I said, “I don’t think so,” and then added, “also, no one online has ever diagnosed me with that, so, no, definitely not.”
“Well, I hate to go against the fact making environment that is random people online, but it seems like you do not, in fact, like urine,” said the doctor.
“But, I love when women have an orgasm that causes them to spray odorless, clear, tasteless liquid during sex, so I love pee!” I said, getting frustrated.
“Well, that doesn’t really sound anything like a woman peeing. I think you’re talking about the phenomenon known as squirting. There is some overlap, but they’re certainly not the same thing, as I’d think you’d be realizing at this point,” replied the doctor.
I stormed out. How dare he!? I went to a psychologist. We talked about what happened, and he suggested I go back to my wife and apologize. I stormed out of there, too!
Chapter 4
I went to a psychic. He told me that my future lie in heat, clouds, and mist. Obviously, I went up into the mountains. I met some weird hippy chicks there on some kind of camping retreat. They smoked weed with me.
“So you like, left your wife because someone online told you you like to drink piss?” one of them asked as we sat around a campfire, smoking a joint.
“Yeah,” I said, and then coughed my head off. I’d forgotten I had just hit the joint, and tried to start talking with smoke in my lungs. Finally, I regained my composure, and said, “Yeah, my wife squirts, but this dude online said squirt is pee, and so since I love my wife’s squirt, I love pee. I tried to get my wife to pee for me, but she thought that was weird, and she kicked me out.”
“Wow, that’s fucked up man,” said another of the hippy chicks. Several had dread locks and all had tattoos.
“You should go on a spiritual journey to find the solution,” suggested another of them.
They gave me some kind of hardcore hallucinogen, and I wandered off, up the mountain. The trees bent as I walked. I noticed that they jiggled when I laughed at this sight, exactly in time with my rising and falling chest as I laughed. The sun started to come up, and I saw a black panther in the distance. I was terrified. It sobered me up entirely. Black panthers are not indigenous to where I live, so it made no sense.
It walked up to me. I was tense all over. Sweat beaded up on my entire body, despite the ordu escort chill air. Everything in my life had come to this moment, as I was face to face with death. The world became nothing but me and this panther. I looked into its eyes, which sparkled green, and felt its spirit as it approached, walking mere inches from me.
It said, “Liking drinking odorless, clear, tasteless squirt is no more liking pee than liking drinking met is liking puke turned to poop.”
“That’s it!” I shouted.
The panther ran away, and I screamed with joy into the air. It all made sense, now! Suddenly I was cold, again. I looked around, and the hippy chicks were coming out of the trees.
“Did you guys follow me?” I asked, realizing the drugs were gone. Probably quickened in their departure by the adrenaline caused by the panther.
“No, dude, you never left the campsite,” said one of them.
“Yes I did, I hiked up the mountain!” I replied.
One of them pointed and I followed her finger with my eyes. Sure enough, we were only thirty feet from the fire where I sat the night before.
“We were watching you, bro, don’t worry,” said the same hippy chick. “What the fuck was with that panther, though? Are you okay?”
“The fucking panther was real!!??” I asked.
“Yeah, man, what the fuck?” she replied.
“Did you hear what it said?” I said.
“That part was probably in your head,” returned the hippy chick as she walked over to me.
Another approached, and said, “That must have been his spirit guide! That’s why it got so close, and why it didn’t attack him when he flipped out! What did it say?”
“It said, ‘Liking drinking odorless, clear, tasteless squirt is no more liking pee than liking drinking met is liking vomit turned to poop.'” I said.
“Wow, that must be like, a prophecy, or something,” said one of them.
“Or maybe “met” is an ancient word of the people who lived here thousands of years ago?” suggested another.
“Either way, it’s the truth, I know it on a deep, spiritual level. Met doesn’t mean you like puke turned to poop, so me liking drinking squirt doesn’t mean I like pee!” I said, triumphantly.
Chapter 5
I left the hippies, then, and went back to my wife. I told her all that had happened, and what the panther had said, as we stood on the porch.
“First of all, didn’t you write a fucking essay explaining, using scientific data, that squirt isn’t pee? Didn’t you tell me that the reason you were so obsessed with researching it was because my squirt is nothing like pee?”
“Yes, of course, and the studies show that a well hydrated woman who is a squirter, and is turned on immediately after emptying her bladder will squirt basically just water. Squirt is different from pee on a sensory level, and even on the chemical level that is beyond perception without lab equipment, where we find that squirt can be well over 99% water, with just trace urine chemicals, while normal urine has as high as 10% urine chemicals, and as low as 90% water.”
“So, why did you believe some jackass online about liking pee, when you know you only like squirt? It’s obvious to any idiot that it being pee in some technical sense isn’t the same as it truly being identical to liking what we normally call pee,” she said.
“People online are always right.”
“Honey, you need help,” she said, as she walked inside, and began to shut the door in my face, but then paused, and said, “Oh, and by the way, met is the German word for mead, which is an alcoholic drink made from honey. Honey is essentially bee vomit, which is eaten and pooped out as ethanol by yeast. People drink it, and no one claims that means they like drinking vomit turned into shit. That’s clearly what your subconscious was trying to tell you. It wasn’t a talking spirit panther. You were tripping, you dumb motherfucker,” and with that she slammed the door.
Well, at least I tried to figure myself out. Good thing my spirit panther taught me the truth. Too bad I lost access to my only source of true squirt, which was my wife, and true squirt is extremely rare. While any woman can piss, only certain ones can make the unique odorless, tasteless, and clear version of pee, which is nothing like pee at all, known as squirt.
Oh well. I guess I do have a pee fetish, but only if we define “pee” as something completely different from, and nothing like “pee.” Too bad I didn’t realize this before I ruined my life and my wife kicked me out.
I walked away from her house that day, and wandered aimlessly around for a few hours, sad and depressed.
Chapter 6
A few weeks went by, and one day I got a text from my wife. It said, “Come by at six, be my squirt slave, örnekköy escort and I’ll take you back.”
I arrived very excited, and she told me to get under her desk. I did so. She was watching porn and masturbating. It was nice to see her wide hips, perfect pussy, smooth brown skin, and large natural breasts, all undulating slightly as she pleasured herself.
“Oh fuck I’m coming!” she yelled as she worked her clit. Then she stopped for a moment, and then said, “I’m going to squirt, drink me!”
I pressed my mouth against her pussy, and allowed her hot, flavorless liquid to flow over my tongue. She kept gushing, and I kept swallowing her in gulps.
“Don’t let any spill out!” she moaned.
Then she moved her chair back and told me to lay on the floor. I did so, and she straddled my face, with her face toward my feet. She rubbed her pussy on my lips, and I licked her clit. She whined and moaned.
“This is punishment, so you’re not allowed to drink me this time! I’m going to drench your face!” she said, breathlessly as she worked up to another orgasm. “Oh yeah, don’t stop! Just like that! I’m coming!” she said.
Her legs shook, and her thighs gripped my head as she came, and then her stream started to shoot out of her. I kept my mouth shut, and it sprayed onto my face. She wiggled her hips, causing it to squirt the stream back and forth, getting all over my face, and soaking my hair. It had no smell, and so it didn’t bother me. I was just glad to be back with my wife. It also turned me on like crazy, as I realized my dick was so hard it was aching.
She finished gushing onto me and got up, turned around, and sat on my face, putting her pussy right onto my mouth.
“Okay, I’m going to make myself come one more time, and you are allowed to drink me,” she said.
She rubbed her clit rapidly, and then moved her fingers, and said, “Open your mouth! I’m going to squirt into your mouth!” in a whiny voice.
I opened my mouth, and she started to spray into it. She filled my mouth up, and I swallowed, as I watched her stream leave her body, glistening in the light, and fall down into my mouth. Her squirt was so smooth, it reminded me of spring water, and always had. She then lowered herself so that her pussy was flush with my mouth, and I could hear her stream shooting onto my tongue when it was quiet, between her moans of pleasure. Her pussy lips spread as they pressed down onto my mouth, and her bush brushed pleasantly against my nose. I was finally home, again.
Finally, she finished, and got up.
“Well, did you learn your lesson?” she asked.
I smiled, and said, “Definitely!”
“And you’re done calling my squirt pee?” she asked.
I screwed up my face, and said, “Well, technically it is pee, and shouldn’t we use the word pee to be more accurate, and to appease the people on the internet?”
She rolled her eyes, and said, “Okay, so, let’s say we’re sitting and drinking wine together, and I say, “This wine is going straight to my head, and kind of making feel like I want to pee,” what would you say?”
“I guess I’d have to ask if you mean you need to use the restroom, or if you mean you want me to pleasure you sexually and make you come.”
“Do you see how that’s fucking stupid, and a waste of time to use the same word for two very different things?” she said.
“Yeah, I guess I see your point. That is dumb. Okay, I guess we’ll just keep up like always, where “squirt” means odorless, tasteless, clear fluid produced by arousal and emitted during orgasm, and “pee” means stinky, bad tasting, yellow liquid that goes in the toilet. So, if you say “I want to squirt,” I’ll know you mean sexy, watery liquid, and if you say “I want to pee” I’ll know you mean bathroom stuff.”
“Genius,” she said, rolling her eyes again. “This whole thing was fucking stupid, and a lot of time and headache could have been saved by this obvious logical solution. The same solution, I might add, that was already in place, and that everyone but weird internet trolls already uses.”
I nodded in agreement and replied, “Not to mention, the difficulty, frustration, and downright absurdity presented to those women who are themselves into pissing, when someone might be shocked if their piss is not clear, odorless and tasteless!”
I laughed, and, seeing my wife’s confused look, I went on, “Saying “I want you to piss for me.” and then being displeased when their pee is, well, pee, is not very fair to them! So, maybe no one should ever call pee squirt, if nothing else just to avoid this awkward, bizarre, and, frankly, asinine situation! If someone asks a woman to pee, the woman should be able to confidently know that that person wants some piss! And if they ask for squirt, they should be able to understand that this cannot be the same thing. Confusing the two is just mean and unfair!”
“You’re right, honey, but, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you that you could ever get these wires crossed in the first place?”
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