Golden Shower

It was about 3 in the afternoon and I was pissed. I’d already gotten thrown out of a club for threatening to bottle the bar staff after they gave me a dodgy pint, and I was sat on the pavement drinking straight from a bottle of vodka.

I shuddered. I can’t really tolerate strong spirits, I thought. They just fuck me up. I can hardly even drink ‘em. I took another swig from the vodka and felt my body react to it. The rain was falling miserably. People strode quickly by, trying to shelter themselves from the rain. I spat bitterly.

A female hobo crossed the street and sat next to me. She looked greasy, skinny and unwashed, her face shattered by the meteors of homelessness and heroin addiction. Sorrow rested comfortably behind her eyes. She looked fucking depressed. She put an arm around me.

I felt really vulnerable and depressed, mainly from the booze, and she was at least providing a woman’s unique comfort, be it from an ugly junkie or a beautiful siren. I sighed and passed her the bottle, sinking like a baby into her chest. She took her own swig.

“Piss in my mouth,” I asked her openly. It just burst out, honestly. The rain suited her quite a lot, and I was drunk and didn’t care about looking like an idiot and she was a hobo anyway. Her lips formed into a smile. I felt slightly more confident, so I followed with, “please?”

“Why would I piss in your mouth?” she asked, laughing slightly.

“Because I want you to. It’s no harm. C’mon,” I replied.

She took me to a back alley and lay me down on the floor. It smelt faintly of urine already. Her shoes were already kicked off. She removed her pants, exposing her skinny legs to the cold. A smile crept across my face. I needed to pee a little bit, too, but I could hold on. Pre-empting the future, I got an erection. I couldn’t really pee now anyway with a hard-on – it’s too much difficulty.

She took off her knickers and dropped all her clothes on the floor. Wearing just a t-shirt, a jumper and socks, she stood on my wrists and squatted. I looked up at her trembling vagina, about 18 inches from my face, pink, horribly unwashed with a small yeast infection going on. I turned away from it in disgust. She began to pee.

Fuck it. I turned towards it again and opened my mouth, trying to catch the piss like a whale catching fish. The golden urine fell past my gums and landed on my tastebuds. It was salty and savoury. It really reacted badly with me – a sublimely unpleasant taste, the combination of every pissy smell out of every toilet, a shockingly nauseating aftertaste of bile and horribly tangy. Fucking gross. I swallowed.

She peed more. It sprayed all over my eyes. It was more and more erotic as the urination continued. I was bathing myself in a waterfall of her piss, her glorious piss. I guess I idolised every woman. It swam past my hair.

Amongst the tinkling and spraying, amongst the yellow liquid immersing my face, I smiled. “Cheers love,” I gurgled. She giggled.