Discovering watersports 6 and last
“Have another glass of wine”, Andy offered.
“Thanks”, said Teresa, my mother.
Quite how we got to this point in the evening I’m not sure, but there she is in my sitting room, definitely in a taxi-home state and showing no signs of going. I’m convinced this is some weird pay-back for seeing me and Andy fucking this morning when she arrived early with the k**s. There was definite eye contact as she parked the car, and I’m sure she saw Andy behind me, fucking me. Just because I’m paranoid...
“Anna, wouldn’t it make sense for Terry to stay the night?”, asked Andy. This is usually a solid way to get her to say she’ll take a taxi.
“I’d love to, thank you”.
No option now but to enjoy it, I suppose. “I’ll just go and check the spare bedroom”, I said and did just that. Andy was pouring another glass of wine when I got back.
“I’ve been wondering all day”, she started. “Have you two been into pissing games for long?”
What do we answer? Andy always believed in tackling things head on. “How did you know? No, we’ve only tried it a couple of times. Why do you ask?”
My mother has always been assertive and outspoken.
Please, please don’t let her want to join in. That would be awful.
She eventually spoke much more softly than usual. Almost sadly. “You don’t understand how pleased I am. I made a promise to Roger’s mum that I never had the courage to follow through with you Anna. Anna’s dad and I tried pissing games in a very small way for a few years before he was killed, I guess you were too young to notice. After his funeral, his mum had me make this promise.”
She was actually crying now. She doesn’t do crying, last time I remember was at the funeral, and I lived pretty close to her for 7 or eight years after that.
“Then today I just put two and two together – all that washing on the line when we got back from York, the smell of the dining room when I called this morning brought back memories, Anna’s hair in a right state - you’d never usually let it get like that – and the way you blushed and were on edge this morning. If you’d just been in the middle of a fuck when I arrived, I think you’d have been laughing, not edging me out.”
I was really wrong-footed. My dad, Roger, was killed in a road traffic accident when I was 11. We called our son after him. But he and my mum, and watersports?
My dad, pissing on my mum? Why do I need to know? And now she’s crying?
“I’m happy to get that taxi now, if you like. Or I can tell you a story and honour the promise.”
Andy was the first to react. “Seems to me you might as well tell the story now. We won’t think any differently of you, after all, we’ve probably done much worse.”
I nodded, scared that I was actually feeling quite concerned about my mum. And so she began.
“We’d been married about six or seven years. So you’d be the same age, Anna, in bed by 9. And one night we were doing that previous lovers thing. I didn’t have much to tell, just a story about the shop-owner who tried to **** me where I had a Saturday job, and the odd grope with boyfriends and girlfriends. But Roger had done 5 years in the army, and this is what he told me. I can remember it all...
‘I was in Berlin and an American mate and I went out. We ended up with two prostitutes. We went to a hotel. Jed and his went to one room, me and mine another. She could speak quite good English, and she made it clear she’d only fuck or oral with a condom. Well, I didn’t have one, and she’d run out. She said she’d give me the most erotic evening but no physical sex for $50. Alright, I said. She told me to take all my clothes off, and then she went to the little bathroom and put the bathmat on the floor across the door. She told me to come and sit on the edge of the bath. And then she began to take her clothes off, slowly, till she was naked also. I was getting quite aroused, she did it slowly and provocatively. Then she got the toilet brush, broke the handle in half, and sexily sucked it, giving it a mock blowjob. She put it to my mouth, and I did the same. She stroked my prick with it and then she slowly fucked herself with it, leaving it in there. My prick was rock hard by now. Then she stood over my feet and started to piss on them. The warmth and wetness was incredibly erotic, as the piss ran down her legs and straight onto my feet, and I started to leak precum. She moved up my legs and was soon pissing all over my prick, and she reached down and jerked me off, while still pissing. In about thirty seconds I came, shooting up at her cunt. Her piss stopped, and she reached down and pulled out the piece of wood. She wiped the cum that was running down my prick with it, and then licked it sexily. Then she turned round and knelt down doggy style at my feet. Piss on me, she said. So I did, all over her back, legs, feet, hair. It was fantastic. When I finished, she stood up, took the towel and dried herself, went into the bedroom and dressed. She took the $50, said you have the room for five more minutes, and left. And I remember every second till this day’”.
Mum was in a different place from us, her mind reliving a night about 30 years ago. “And that’s when it started, I was really turned on by the story and him sharing it. That evening Roger pissed all over me in doggy style on the kitchen floor, before giving me such a hard fucking from behind. Other nights, he’d simply piss a bit on me as I sat on the toilet, splashing my tits and fanny. Or he’d have me piss on his feet and willy. Each time we fucked after, he’d be stiffer, harder and we’d be a bit rougher. It never got violent. And every time I would come, every single time. And he’d always be so gentle and loving for weeks after, not like after straight sex.
“And now I can only really come with some piss on my fanny. I come without, but the real climax needs piss, mine or my lovers, on my hair down there.
“And then the amazing thing, About a month after the funeral, his mum and I were sitting having a cup of tea, you’d have been at school I guess. And then, out of the blue, she said “Tell Anna she must have her man piss on her. She has to engineer it, it keeps them faithful. Once they’ve done it, they’ll never forget it, and they’ll want it again and again. And it’s sexy, too. You must tell her. My mum told me and my s****rs, and I’ve got no daughters. Tell her to pass it on to her daughters”.
My mum stopped, exhausted.
I went over to her, and put an arm round her. We had a brandy and she went to bed.
Andy looked at me, obviously curious.
“I’ve not told Paula yet”, I said. “But we did have a nice visit to my gran’s in that home, didn’t we?”
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