GBL 1/GBL 1.iso/gay_text/gay014.txt

Text File | 1992-10-15 | 10.9 KB | 168 lines

         WET                   Uploaded to The Club by Wet Bear

         I can remember loving to pee on myself since I was very small,
         always in the bath tub until I hit 11 or so. At that time I
         became more daring: I would sometimes stand in the tub and piss
         on myself or lie back and direct the pee into my mouth. I was
         beginning to be attracted to boys at that time and fantasized a
         lot about certain ones doing these things to me. I was a "latch
         key" kid and since I was alone for hours at a time, could play my
         fantasies out. At about that time I began to wet my pants on
         purpose and walk around the house wet. I would also piss into
         cups and drink everything I gave out . When I was 12, I was
         particularly attracted to my next door neighbor, a French
         Canadian/Irish boy who was about six months younger than I.

         John and I had a relationship which was fairly normal at first.
         We played around in the neighborhood, went swimming (I would do
         my best to sneek a peek at his pubic area - he had a nice,
         substantial boy cock), and would play games in his or my house.
         Eventually, we began to play some less common games, but ones
         which are not unknown to boys of 11 and 12. We had been playing
         Monopoly in his basement rumpus room. The game had been taking
         its customary long time when John announced that he had to take a
         piss. Up until that time, he had always acted like a chaste, holy
         Catholic angel. The word "piss" what totally out of character for
         him. The very sound of the word coming out of his mouth excited
         me.

         I told John that I, too, needed to "drain my weiner." We went
         to the downstairs toilet and pulled out our penises. We crossed
         streams and splashed our piss against the side of the bowl until
         John began to move back from the toilet slowly, arcing his stream
         so that it would make it to the bowl. He looked at me and
         giggled. John was not such an angel, after all. Thus started our
         pee games which would go on for several months.

         We engaged in very typical (it turns out) piss games: who could
         piss the farthest, the most (caught in quart mayonaisse jars),
         the longest, the highest. John's basement was perfect for these
         games since it was cemented, had a drain and thus could be easily
         hosed down. I was determined to see how far I could pull him into
         my world of piss and raunch. One day when we were playing the
         "who could piss the most" game, I challenged John to drink some
         of his piss. John was reluctant to drink the mayaonaisse jar of
         piss that he held in his hand so I took the first drink of mine.
         We were both about 12 at the time, John six months younger than
         me. He giggled as I drank my pee, put the jar to his own mouth
         and started to let it touch his lips. Again, he pulled the yellow
         liquid away. I took the jar from him and took a gulp. I was
         surprised to find out that his piss tasted differant from mine. I
         dared him again and this time he took the jar, placed it to his
         lips and drank it all in one draught, more piss than I'd ever
         drunk at one time. He laughed at having tricked me into tasting
         his. It was obvious that he'd been doing it himself for awhile.

         Our various piss games continued for several months, mostly
         distance and quantity as with your friend. One day I asked John
         if he'd ever pee'd his pants. "Not since I was a baby" was his
         reply. Again a dare, again an acceptance. We stood in his
         basement in our blue jeans facing each other. I strained my
         bladder as he did. Almost simultaneuously small wet spots
         appeared on the blue material of our pants and spread down our
         legs. When I was half done I stopped pissing but John kept going
         until the wet spot had covered the front of his pants, down the
         right leg and had extended up the rear in matched, dark blue
         patches.

         I still had a lot of piss in my body so I told John that it was
         fun to wet my own pants but I wondered what it was like to wet
         someone elses. Could I wet his pants? He was just about in
         hysterics at the idea. I whipped out my little dick, unzipped his
         Levis, (no 501's in those days) and slipped my dickie into his
         underpants and pissed. It was a gas feeling my piss wet his body
         and I got a super little stiff doing it. It was nicest feeling
         our bodies pressed together, though. I pulled out while my prick
         was still streaming and finished off spraying his pants and my
         own from the outside. Of course we had to wash our clothes in his
         washer next so we stripped them off and waited around in the
         rumpus room next to the washroom. This was the first time that
         I'd seen John completely nude except at the swimming pool and
         then it had been quickly and mostly from the rear. John, though
         younger than I, was starting to develope in the genital
         department. He had a few wisps of red pubic hair whiich I
         examined closely and his pricklet was starting to get chubbier.
         More fun was to come that afternoon.

         After we put our clothing in the washer, John and I stood
         facing each other rather shyly looking at each other nude for the
         first time. As I said, he was 6 months younger than I but his
         cock was starting to fill out and he sported some long, downy red
         hair around its base. Mine was still very much a little boy's
         penis, but looking at John had made it very stiff. John and I
         were both Catholics and I knew what I had done was a mortal sin,
         but what I was about to do was going to be worse. I reached over
         and touched his sweet, semi-erect penis, softly at first and then
         more firmly. He went from semi-hard to steel-like in a flash. I
         pulled him into his rumpus room by his peg and we lay on the rug.
         I put my head as close to his prick as I could and began to rub
         it like I rubbed my own every day. John moaned and sighed and
         placed his hand over mine so that I couldn't stop if I wanted to.
         I didn't want to, of course. In a moment of daring I did to him
         what I dreamt of doing for many months. I touched the tip of the
         small cock with my tongue and then swallowed the whole thing into
         my mouth. With a shudder, John squirted his small gout of semen
         into my mouth. I knew about jiz at the time but had never seen,
         let alone tasted any. It was sweet and bitter. I spit a small
         amount out to see what it looked like but it looked like creamy
         spit to me. Next time, I would see what it looked like, I thought.

         John was too wiped out to do anything to me so I mangled my own
         dick until I had a dry orgasm of my own. We ended the session by
         drying our pants and promising not to tell anyone but to get back
         together in my apartment the next day. During those days I had
         re-discovered the joys of putting things up my ass. It started
         with my finger and then progressed to olives, tootsie rolls,
         candles, candy and finally hot dogs. I sometimes would dare, when
         I was feeling very raunchy, to poop out what I'd put in and eat
         it if it were small, for instance an olive or tootsie roll. My
         greatest discovery at that time was an enema bag. I loved to fill
         it with warm water or my own piss and shoot it in me, gradually
         getting so I could take a cup and a half at a time.

         In bed that night after giving John my first blow job, I
         fantasized about all the things I wanted John to do with me. I
         had spent much of the early evening that night playing with
         myself. I took a candle to bed with me and poked it into my hole
         while I fiddled with my pricklet, pretending that it was John's
         cock. The next day he came by as we had planned. We were both shy
         about beginning any more games. Finally he said he had to pee, a
         signal that maybe we should begin. I told him to take off his
         clothes and I did the same. We went to the bathroom and got into
         the empty tub. I asked him to piss a little on me and he did.
         Then I knelt down and held his hose an inch from my mouth. "Go
         ahead," I told him. It was hard for him to start; he was shy
         about pissing in my mouth. He strained, farted when he did and
         then let lose a stream of warm gold which I sprayed on my face,
         in my hair and then into my mouth.

         Watching me made him hard enough where he couldn't piss
         anymore. I suggested he try my rear end. He used some of my
         mother's cold cream and slipped his dick in easily. He was
         smaller than the candle but it was heaven for me to have him
         inside. He fucked me two or three times and came quickly, falling
         on top of me in the excitement of his orgasm. I had a sharp,
         intense orgasm while he fucked me. He was about to pull out as he
         softened, but I told him to finish the job - piss in me. He
         didn't need to be told twice and the next thing I knew he was
         filling me with more liquid than I could hold. I exploded in a
         shower of piss and little bits of shit just as soon as John
         pyulled out of me, barely missing getting him dirty. I stunk but
         I discovered that I loved the smell and the turn on that I got.

         Fortunately, when I released the piss from inside me, I'd been
         able to hold most of the contents of my intestines inside me, or
         else I would have been more embarassed than I was. I liked the
         idea of "letting go" but was shy about it in front of John. As it
         were, he kidded me greatly about crapping on myself although I'd
         only lost a few little bits of shit. He rinsed me off with the
         shower hose we had and I climbed from the tub and gingerly made
         my way to the toilet where I evacuated my bowels with a loud and
         smelly fart. John was interested in how it felt and I offered to
         plug him and piss up his ass. He seemed interested, but like you,
         was reluctant to go through with it.
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